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#and her brother as well
princeofmints · 1 year
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checking on the boys because i hear them doing their Play Meows and i want to make sure they aren't hurting each other and this is what i see
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regonold · 1 month
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Danny gets deaged and heads to Gotham to find jazz at collage there's only one problem he knows where the collage is just now where jazz's class is
Enter one bruce wayne who genuinely just so happened to be there (he's pulling a brucie wayme stunt) seeing a small kid looking around worried so what does the serial adopter do? Well he goes up to the kid of course crouching down to ask if he's ok whats his name wheres his parents or siblings?
Now jazz, jazz all but raised danny she protected him from a young age and helped him with anything he needed and durimg her time at collage she had worried for him, with the amount of bull her parents spouted she wouldn't be surprised if danny up and left
So imagine her surprise when she spotted her baby brother de aged talking to some stranger and at that moment every instinct flared and she remembered every warning she read or heard about Gotham and she acted
Danny was just looking for his sister when some guy crouched down to talk with him after asking some questions danny heard a sound he was familiar with jazz running
Bruce really wasn't expecting to be kicked for trying to help a kid
Artistic representation of jazz kicking bruce\/
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welcometogrouchland · 2 months
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[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post
#dc comics#dc#damian wayne#dick grayson#talia al ghul#batfamily#dc robin#nightwing#anyway. yes im a self-indulgent ''dick as damians secret third parent'' truther#like i DO think it's way more complex and nuanced than the schmoopy affectionate fan portrayal of it#they're brothers they're father and son they're partners they're the dynamic duo except only in past tense etc etc#but consider! I'm not immune to schmoopy affection in fanworks. it compells me despite itself#anyway it's technically not that crazy when it comes to dick and damian. they hug! often! at least they did#it's not as big a leap to these types of scenarios#also talia ''somewhat absent for complex reasons on both her and damians part but very loving and loved by her son'' al ghul#you will always be famous to me#son of the demon origin...bwahhh#anyway. someone made a comic kind of like this/like a post i made abt this topic#but way funnier bc dick and talia starting trying to beat each other up#so go look at that as well#anyway. it's been a somewhat difficult few weeks so I'm. desperately trying to take it easy#i got some reading with me (first vol of kevin smiths GA run that i found second hand and jaimes BB run vol 2!)#so we'll see how far i get through those. considering there's demons in my head telling me to re-read things (LET ME OUT!!!)#when i finish GA and BB i do plan on rereading robin 2021. as a treat to myself#it's a run I've really warmed up to as time went on#I'm keeping up w/ the current b&r run even though it is. admittedly very slow w/ some weird dialogue#i read it for the damian content more than anything. also nikas back so that's neat :]#idk I have a feeling that after absolute power shakes out we might get some more creative team switch ups#so if anyone at dc is interested in taking over the reigns on b&r...that could be very neat#mine
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Freelance Inventor Part 2
Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)
"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.
The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .
It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.
It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.
"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.
Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."
Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.
This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.
Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.
He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.
For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.
It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.
"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.
Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.
Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."
Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."
"Yes, Danny"
Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.
"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.
"You don't speak Romani."
"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"
"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.
Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.
Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.
______________________________________________
"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.
Anxious.
It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.
Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.
"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.
Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.
He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.
Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.
Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"
"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.
Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.
"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.
Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.
Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.
Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.
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"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.
It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.
His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.
He hadn't meant to.
He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.
Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.
He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.
It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.
Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.
Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.
This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.
He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.
Only heard, he was not enough.
So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.
He just needed to respect it.
"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."
Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"
"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."
After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."
He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.
Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.
"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."
"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."
Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.
"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"
"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.
The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.
"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.
Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"
The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.
But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.
Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.
Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.
(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)
No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.
His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?
Bruce being Batman?!
Please.
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hychlorions · 1 month
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a what-if i've been thinking about for forever... trucy knowing the truth before anyone could tell her
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bluerosefox · 4 months
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Our Well Deserved Break
Its
Shenanigans (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Time again!~
-x-x-
Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.
This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!
Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.
An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...
Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."
"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.
This was totally going to be fun!
-x-x-
When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.
He smiled and said
"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."
Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.
"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"
After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.
Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)
"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."
Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'
"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.
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shigaeru · 11 months
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what if the three monsters were best friends, what then
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 2 - Psyche Skills
Part 1 - Part 3
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#disco elysium#MDZS disco elysium au#jiang cheng#jiang yanli#yu ziyuan#While it's more in vogue to draw a character's skill roster tailored to them -#One of the more subtle details I love in DE is how some of the skill portraits parallel character portraits of people hbd associates with.#Theres somethine rather poetic to be said about how other people shape out thoughts and sometimes act as a 'voice' in our head.#How we are in part a collection of impressions other people left behind on us.#I am a huge Skillhead (Those are my friends! My party members! They love me! They have their own agendas and alliances!)#so of course a healthy portion of this AU is dedicated to them <3#the Int skills go basically unchanged from DE. Psy as well (with changes to a few quirks in voice).#Fys skills though...well...wwx is in a different body! Those voices belong to Someone Else.#Esp electrochem (MXY in this AU also partied to near death. WWX is withdrawing and craving substances he's never even heard of before)#While I personally don't fully subscribe to Volition Jean I *do* see Volition Jiang Cheng. The voice of your Not Brother keeping you afloat#All three of these parallels make me unbelievably sad. They are also both purple. Art is like that sometimes.#Empathy Jiang Yanli...oh man do I have a lot of thoughts about her. Disco fans Who Know....you can probably see what I'm cooking.#Authority is a really interesting skill in DE because *yes* its about power and intimidation - but it's also about finesse and respect#Titus Hardie and YZY both abuse *and* finesse how they establish their authority - in a way that leaves quite an impression.#2 more mdzs disco posts that I *need* to create and then I'm off to working on raffles <3
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Shoutout to Tim Drake for teaming up with the only other teenagers with messier family dynamics than the Bats
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sysig · 5 months
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“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)
Bonus:
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Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c
#Doodles#Handplates#UT#Fellplates#UkaGaster's answers about Toriel really interest me :3c#As evidenced by the quote caption lol - but his other ones are very interesting too! Since it sounds like she's still around!#Poor classic Handplates!Gaster believed Tori dead for such a long time while she was at the Ruins#Meanwhile Fellplates!Gaster is just like ''? I saw the Queen last week she threw me into the pricker bushes? -.ò'' lol#But anyhow lol ♪ The implications that they're still in each other's vicinity really makes me curious about their relationship!#And how Toriel might react to knowing that someone - someone other than her - is having So Much Success on one of her sore spots#Not just of having children but of the constant reminders of Gaster's success where she has to live every day with a heavy heart for her own#Being cruel to him over it - well that's just par for the course isn't it ♪#He mentions that she's much more of an emotional sadist - insulting him and then making it Very clear that she does Not approve of the holes#''They're ugly and you should feel ashamed for drawing so much attention to something so unsightly''#I do think that her knowing that he's so intent on being kind and merciful and then twisting the knife on how much he's hurting her-#Making him feel guilty for daring to even attempt the betterment of all - for giving pieces of himself away and try to be a good person#''If anyone will break my spirit it will be her'' :)#Although that's all assuming that Toriel even knows about the brothers! :0 When I thought about it later it'd make more sense if she doesn't#It was still too good to not do something with the idea hehe - but imagine her betrayal if/when she found out tho she'd kill him on the spot#Gosh I haven't drawn Tori in foreeeeever I can't even remember the last time#Doing a/nother study on her would probably be fun haha she's rather plain how I draw her currently#I wonder if her Fellplates version would also wear reading glasses hehe#And the bonus :3c Where are the plates featured in Fellplates? Surely it's not just called that as a reference right ♪ Hehehe
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muffinlance · 8 months
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prompt: Ozai has Azula watch Zuko (his progress or rather lack thereof) from way earlier on, possibly even before Aang gets away from the iceberg in the first place
There it is, written at the bottom of his banishment notice, wobbling in and out of his vision and he’s not sure if it's his eyes—
(Father wouldn’t have meant to blind him. Being blind won't help him catch the Avatar, so he’ll just not go blind.)
It’s either his eyes, or. Or the rage. It has to be the rage.
So Zuko reads the line again, and lets the fire brim up and overflow, until sparks chase the shout from his lips.
“Banishment to be overseen by Crown Princess Azula?”
- - -
“Prince Zuko,” Azula says, standing as tall as an eleven year old can. She’s using his title, so that he’ll use hers. And if he doesn’t then he’s ill-mannered and not fit for his own. 
“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko grits out.
“I’ll just be inspecting your ship, then. Father’s orders.”
Two men are in shackles by the time she’s done. 
“—Fostering mutiny against your prince,” she is yelling, and somehow her voice is just as high-pitched as his without sounding childish at all. “When our father hears about this—”
- - -
“So you had them executed,” Fire Lord Ozai inquires. Lightly. And from behind his flames.
“Of course, father,” says the kneeling child. “It was an attack on our family.”
Her father doesn’t say anything.
Azula is eleven. Eleven, she had presumed, was old enough to count. 
One, two, three. Four, with Uncle. The royal family.
Her father is silent still.
One. Two.
“Forgive my impertinence, Fire Lord,” she says. “I will bring them to you for judgment next time.”
“Do so,” Fire Lord Ozai says. He does not contest the ‘next time.’
- - -
“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko says.
“Your bandage is off, brother,” Azula says. “Are you blind?”
“No.”
(The blur of her red robes, the eye-searing glint of sunlight off her headpiece—he’s not blind in that eye. He’s just… still recovering.)
“Lovely,” she says. “Then what’s your excuse for the condition of this ship?”
…He has an increased budget for repairs, by the time she’s done. 
- - -
“Brother,” Azula says, “traditionally knives are to be delivered to the back.”
“I… what?” her brother says, still holding out the inexplicable thing. “No, I bought it at port. For you. See, it matches the one Uncle got me.”
“How original,” she says.
Her brother turns a shade of red that puts his bending to shame. Not that it’s a particularly high bar. “Fine, I’ll just—throw it out.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. At the least, Mai will want it.”
- - -
“Nice knife,” says Mai, looking at the hilt peeking out of Azula’s boot.
“Be silent,” Azula says, thus ending that conversation.
- - -
“Did great-grandfather… did we…” starts her brother, fresh from scurrying about the Eastern Air Temple like some particularly dim-witted pheasant-monkey, the dust not even brushed from his clothes even though he knew her ship was waiting down here. “Azula, there were children—”
“Be silent,” she says.
- - -
“You’re leaving frequently,” comments father, as his knife cuts through the pheasant-monkey, clicking against the plate below. The persimmon-cherry sauce is thick and red and smearing.  
“I find it advantageous to cultivate a working knowledge of our nation’s tactics,” Azula answers. She does not push around her meat like a child, but she does eat only lightly; the dish is more sour than she remembers.
“And your brother?”
“Oh, him,” she says, to which her father smiles.
- - -
“...What?” Zuko asks, blinking down at the scrolls. 
“It’s your birthday,” Azula says. “Apparently, I should have gotten you a calendar.”
“Thank you?”
She sighs.
- - -
“Do we… tell him we can hear him?” asks the assistant cook, as the prince continues monologuing. Dramatically, and loudly. Through the pipe connecting the drain of the kitchen sink to the ones in the shower. 
“Ssh, I think this is one of his new plays.”
- - -
She gets him a calendar for his next birthday. It’s not funny.
- - -
He gets her a doll, for hers. The look on Uncle’s face as she torches it in front of them both is hilarious.
- - -
“Brother,” she says, looking up at the damage to his ship. “This is not the way to requisition additional repair funds.”
“Captain Zhao,” her uncle says in the background, with heights of pleasant antagonism she can only aspire to. As if a general could mistake Zhao’s new insignia. Particularly with all the polishing he does. 
“It’s commander now.”
“How did you manage this?” she asks.
“Uh,” Zuko says. “Can we… speak alone?”
She eyes her brother’s shifting stance. Eyes, too, the way Zhao’s men are already moving to intercept and interrogate his crew. One of the new commander’s more noxious habits is stalking her brother’s every move. 
Well. She’d been meaning to deal with that, anyway.
Azula snaps her fingers at the commander’s guards.
“Detain him,” she says. And for a moment, just a moment, her dear uncle freezes, as if she were talking about someone he actually cared for.
The guards don’t. She’s trained them better than that.
“Princess,” Commander Zhao says, his snarl well hidden behind a smile. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Crown Princess Azula,” she corrects. “Now hush; the adults are talking.”
- - -
They have an Avatar to catch, apparently. Her brother is coming home.
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couch-house · 9 months
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@toffejo's tags on the original image (below cut) as shadow and maria... your mind
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yakny · 2 months
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who are you to change this world? silly boy! no one needs to hear your words, let it go.
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ryssbelle · 2 months
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Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.
But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.
Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.
Bonus
Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree
Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother
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Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D
In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death
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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
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The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.
But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.
“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”
The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.
Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.
The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.
For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.
Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.
His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.
———
“Alright, kiddo, good job.”
Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.
“You did great.”
“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”
Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”
His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”
Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.
(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)
Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.
“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”
He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”
“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”
Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.
He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.
He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.
As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.
“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”
“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”
“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”
“Hunk —”
Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.
“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”
Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.
“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”
“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”
Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.
“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”
Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”
A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”
Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.
He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”
“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.
“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”
Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.
“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”
Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.
———
The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.
Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.
Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.
But he can tell something’s off.
Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.
How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.
Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.
“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).
Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”
“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”
Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.
Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.
“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.
Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.
Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.
He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.
“Can you write mission plans in pink?”
The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.
Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.
“…Why?”
“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it’s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.
He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.
“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”
Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.
“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”
He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.
“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”
Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.
“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”
To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.
“You sound like my mother.”
“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”
Lance does.
“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”
Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.
“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”
Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.
“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”
The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.
“You prayed?”
“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”
“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”
Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”
Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”
“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.
“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”
Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.
“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.
It takes a moment for it to click.
Shiro considers banging his head against the table.
“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.
“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.
“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”
“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”
Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.
“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”
“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”
“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”
Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.
“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”
Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”
Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”
Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.
He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”
Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”
356 notes · View notes
cheshiresense · 8 months
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[From Here]
Dithered over which pov to write next, figured I’d try Yuzu.
-0-
When Yuzu gets a phone call from Ichigo that they would be having two guests for dinner tonight, she is delighted. In all the years she’s known him, her brother has only ever introduced one person to them as something of a friend. Mizuiro is half a sibling at this point, trusted enough to be around them even when Ichigo isn’t, but before him, and after him, nobody else has ever caught Ichigo’s eye enough to warrant an actual invitation to dine with their family.
“They’re related to ghost stuff,” Ichigo adds bluntly, and Yuzu understands that to mean that these two will at least be tougher than the average yakuza on the street, even if they can’t match up to her brother.
“I understand!” She chirps back cheerfully. “I’ll let Karin know. I can’t wait to meet them!”
Then she hangs up, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work in the kitchen. No guests of her brother’s will ever accuse them of being ungracious hosts on her watch.
(Karin comes home from soccer practice half an hour later. She laughs, as Yuzu does, when Yuzu tells her of their impending guests.)
-0-
Two hours later, Yuzu is putting the finishing touches on the meal when the sound of the door being unlocked carries through the apartment.
"Welcome home, Onii-chan!" She calls out, plating the last dish before carrying it over to the dining table. "Dinner's ready!"
She can hear Karin leaving their bedroom and coming down the hall on deliberately heavy footsteps. She appears just as Ichigo comes in from the front, Mizuiro a step behind him, with two men bringing up the rear, vaguely middle-aged at first glance, younger at the second, and then just ageless the more you stare.
They're tall, is Yuzu's first thought, but everybody's tall from her perspective. Still, they're taller than Ichigo, especially the one in the very back, and bigger too, even if they've got that same elegant dancer's gait her brother walks with, the one that whispers danger in the hindbrain even to those who don't know what to look for. They're also both blond, one darker than the other, but both with hair that nearly reach their shoulders. One wears modern clothing, the other more traditional, and one is empty-handed while the other carries a cane, but both of them take in the whole room in one calculating sweep that misses nothing. And they're both already smiling politely as they walk in, one with a harmless playful edge, the other with a harmless mysterious air, but both as fake as each other.
Yuzu exchanges a glance with Karin just to check she's not seeing things. Karin gives her the eyebrows that means she's noticed too.
Mizuiro had given off a far less dangerous aura when Ichigo had first brought him home. And he still feels much less threatening than these men now, no matter how much Guest One and Guest Two are probably trying to play it down. But back then, Mizuiro had also come in with sharp eyes and a guileless skin-deep smile, and that at least is exactly the same.
Their big brother sure does have a type. Yuzu sometimes wonders if Ichigo goes out and picks the most suspicious and unsettling people he can find to entertain him, or if he just somehow attracts them with his innate charm.
"My sisters, Karin, and Yuzu," Ichigo introduces without suspense, then jabs a thumb at Mizuiro. "And Mizuiro lives next door but he eats with us when we're here."
Then he gestures at the two men. "This is Hirako Shinji and Urahara Kisuke." He pauses for a brief half-second, and his eyes flash gold in Yuzu's, and Karin's, direction. "Hirako's a bit like me." He pauses again, and a funny half-smile hitches at one corner of his mouth. "They both are actually."
He says nothing else, so Yuzu takes that as her cue to sketch a neat half-bow paired with a bright smile. "Hello! It's nice to meet you!"
Beside her, Karin parrots the motion, if in a more perfunctory manner, but they weren't raised in a cave, so they know how to be courteous.
The men murmur back their own greetings even as their gazes shift back and forth between them and their brother like they're trying to pick up on a second unspoken conversation, but it's not as if there's anything for them to hear either way.
It's just that the introduction was short, names and little else, so Yuzu knows that they're equally untrustworthy, which makes sense because Ichigo couldn't have known them for more than a week or two. But the little else he'd tacked on had been a sign as well— not just that they're like him in some ways, in different ways, but also that Ichigo likes Hirako more than Urahara. Nevertheless, the fact that he'd brought them here at all means that they're interesting enough to make them both tolerable.
Yuzu understands, as does Karin, but they give no indication of it as everyone shuffles around to wash their hands, and Yuzu quickly scoops out a bowl of rice each for everyone in attendance.
"Onii-chan never invites anybody over, so I made a lot of extra food today," Yuzu tells them happily. "Please eat as much as you want!"
"Everythin' looks delicious," The darker blond, Hirako, grins at her, and this time, the expression seems more genuine. At the very least, it gives her a warmer feeling than the other blond, Urahara, who also smiles and trills agreement but radiates more distance than an overseas phone call.
Everyone settles around the dining table, although Mizuiro spares a moment to pull an exaggerated moue of aggrievement. "Never invites anybody over? Have I been forgotten, Yuzu-chan?"
Karin rolls her eyes while Yuzu giggles merrily. "You don't count, Mizuiro-nii-chan. You already eat with us almost every day anyway."
Mizuiro drops the act in favour of a smirk, though he looks pleased too, to be counted as family, as if the novelty of it still hasn't worn off. To be fair, it had taken a whole six months before Ichigo had been willing to leave him in the same vicinity as Yuzu and Karin on their own, and Yuzu knows that being trusted like that by her brother is no small feat.
Conversation drops as everybody begins digging in, and Yuzu lets her gaze drift casually over to their guests as they too pick up their bowls and chopsticks.
It's Urahara she lingers on first because he's the one who lifts his bowl to his mouth, only to stop at the last second, chopsticks poised. His expression doesn't really change, and the lapse only lasts a fraction of a second before he's moving again, smoothly pretending to eat a mouthful before lowering his bowl again, chewing and swallowing thin air masterfully. Even Yuzu only spots it because she's been watching the whole time from behind lowered eyelashes as she grabs some eggplant from one of the vegetable dishes.
She lets her gaze drop completely when she feels the man's eyes move from the food to her and then to Ichigo. Still, she can't quite suppress a pout, although she supposes she can't be too disappointed either since Hirako at least eats a good five bites of his rice before suddenly stiffening, glancing down sharply even as his eyes flicker with the same burnished gold colour that her brother possesses.
Then he looks up, looks at Urahara, looks at her, looks long at Ichigo, and then-
-he laughs. It's a bark of one that echoes with a snarl, except the mirth in it is also entirely genuine, enough for Yuzu to glance up with startled eyes. But the rest of the table does as well, so at least she doesn't stand out. Of course, that doesn't prevent Hirako from grinning at her, all teeth, with a bite that would feel like claws at her throat if not for the fact that it's coloured by something even warmer than when he'd complimented her spread. Appreciation, maybe.
"Is it the rice?" He muses candidly, and then actually eats another bite. "Nah, can't be, it was from the same cooker. It's the bowl, right? Not bad, I can't smell or taste anythin'."
Yuzu blinks and shares another look with Karin, who looks largely bored by the proceedings and hasn't stopped eating. Soccer practice always makes her hungry. But she also shrugs in agreement that Hirako is being sincere, so Yuzu relaxes and looks at her brother next.
Ichigo also hasn't stopped eating, although he isn't shovelling food into his mouth as speedily as Karin is. He swallows, glances leisurely at their guests, then looks back at her. "Not bad. Nothing in the food though?"
Yuzu frowns. "It's the first time you've invited them over, Onii-chan. I didn't want to scare them off."
Also, they're tolerable, and Ichigo even likes one of them, so she'd chosen the mildly poisoned bowls over the severely poisoned ones.
Ichigo just looks amused. "They don't scare easily."
Yuzu pouts again before glancing at their two guests, who are both watching them openly now. Hirako still looks like he's just heard a grand joke, while Urahara seems more than a little bemused, but neither of them feels angry.
Her big brother really is an excellent judge of character.
"You really didn't notice anything at all?" Yuzu asks in earnest, peering at Hirako before squinting at Urahara. "Then how come he did? And did you already shake the poison off?"
Hirako snorts and reaches for the communal chopsticks to swipe another chicken wing. "My... constitution's pretty good at negatin' toxins. And Kisuke's trained for this sort of thing."
Trained? Yuzu stares wide-eyed at Urahara long enough for the man to stop exuding caution and start manifesting awkwardness, which isn't what she wants so she hastily blurts out, "Are you really? So you can identify any poison? But the one I made is an original, so you shouldn't have come across it before."
Urahara stares back at her for a long blank-faced moment, not even bothering to stitch on a smile anymore, and like this, he matches the flat undercurrent of his emotions much better, like ice over water, except the water is the ocean and you don't know how deep it goes or what's waiting underneath.
"Ah," The man finally says, lifting a hand to his hat for a moment and pressing down on it so that his eyes are hidden. Then he looks up again and eyes her like he's seeing her for the first time and is pleasantly surprised by what he's found. "I may not know the exact poison, but I could still tell there was something off. Also, it's plant-based, isn't it?"
He pauses, and then, just like Hirako, he picks up his rice bowl again and swallows a decent mouthful, chewing almost thoughtfully beforehand. "And refined with reiatsu. That's actually more difficult to hide from me. Your technique is clumsy too. Give me an hour and I could probably also tell you the strains you crossed to make it. For now, at the very least, I can say there's definitely wisteria in this."
Yuzu is rendered speechless for a full five seconds. And then she snaps out of it and rounds on her brother with the best puppy eyes in her arsenal. She knows they don't actually work, but Ichigo tends to give in to her when she pulls them out anyway because it means she really wants something. "Onii-chan, you'll invite them back again, won't you? Urahara-san is amazing! I could learn so much if he teaches me!"
Ichigo's eyebrows go up for a moment in a way that speaks of indulgence, but he also glances lazily at Urahara before going back to his food. "Ask him yourself."
Yuzu pulls up short, always slightly stunned whenever her brother refuses her, even when it's not a direct refusal. But generally speaking, if she or Karin wants something enough to ask for it, Ichigo has always been the sort to simply make it happen for them. The only times he's ever refused is when he'd thought it too unnecessary - Karin really shouldn't have asked for a flamethrower for her birthday, it's unwieldy and she can't hide it in her backpack, plus they know how to make Molotov cocktails already anyway, which is almost the same thing - or when he'd considered it important for them to get what they want on their own, usually because it would make for a useful life skill in the future.
Never has it been because of a person.
But for the first time ever, this situation seems to have fallen into that exact category, which... She looks back at Urahara with more curiosity than before. For someone Ichigo only finds tolerable, something about this man has... impressed him? Is that what's going on here? Not even Mizuiro has ever succeeded in that before, so for once, Yuzu has no precedent to draw from.
Well, that doesn't matter right now. The important thing is that Urahara will probably remain in her big brother's life for some time to come, which means-
"Urahara-san!" She shoots to her feet, chair clattering back with the force of it as she bows. "Please teach me more about poisons! It's okay if it's just a little bit, whenever you have time. I promise I'll work hard! And of course, I can pay for the lessons!"
She does some mental tallying. There's a bake sale coming up for her club, and the venue they've chosen is close enough to the Karakura border to attract people from the neighbouring town. If she plays her cards right, some thugs from nearby yakuza groups probably wouldn't mind donating to her cause. Pretty little girls offering pretty little cakes are bound to reel in at least a few idiots.
Of course, she'll have to ask Ichigo to get rid of them afterwards. It's better not to risk putting anything too lethal into a school bake sale, just in case of an accident, so she'll have to stick with upset stomachs at most. Once they've paid up, Ichigo can make them disappear. Those upset stomachs can get really gross, and blood and guts aren't much better if cleanup gets messy, so Yuzu would rather not deal with that part.
Unlike her siblings who don't mind it, Yuzu is unfortunately something of a clean freak. Karin always taunts her about having inherited their father's delicate constitution, and Yuzu can't even refute it, no matter how insulted she feels. It's seriously unfair because she can gut a fish in the kitchen no problem, but human intestines make her gag.
"I-" Urahara starts, jolting her out of her thoughts. The man looks taken aback all over again, and like he's missed a step somewhere. He even feels a bit nervous as he whips out a paper fan of all things, one that hides half his face from view. His gaze bounces between her and her brother, emitting enough anxious vibes that Yuzu suddenly wants to give him an emotional support dog or something. "I'm not sure I would be the... best choice for this sort of thing, Kurosaki-san."
Yuzu is unsure who he's talking to, but just in case it's her, she rearranges her face into the most kicked puppy look of disappointment she's capable of. "Why not? You know your poisons, and it looks like it'll be hard for me to kill you. Onii-chan can only teach me so much, it's not really his area, so I've only been able to trial-and-error it for months now. But I'm a quick learner, and I swear I'll listen to anything you're willing to teach me. Or, is it the money? Just name your price."
Even if she can't come up with it all on her own, she's certain Ichigo will help pay the rest. Honestly, even if it's within her budget, he'll just pour the same amount she shells out back into her bank account. The only reason they have to go in a big circle like this is because Ichigo wants them to learn how to handle money responsibly.
"That's not-" Urahara stops again, then snaps his fan shut, and then all of a sudden, it's like a wall comes up, and everything about him shuts down. He straightens, features as unreadable as the rest of him, and then he turns to Ichigo so that it's unmistakeable who he's talking to this time. "Kurosaki-san, is this really alright?"
Ichigo's basically finished eating at this point. Karin gets up for another bowl of rice. Mizuiro watches them like he's binging one of his romance dramas. And Hirako has his head propped up against one loose fist, eyes half-lidded but intent.
In response, Ichigo only shrugs. "I mean, you can say no. But like she said, I can't teach her much more than I already have, and it's not like she's gonna find a better teacher than you at this point, right?"
"And where did you learn it from?" Urahara asks, grey eyes riveted on Ichigo with the sort of focus that feels like he might've forgotten anyone else even exists.
Ichigo actually quirks a smile, sardonically amused. "Same place I learned everything else."
He doesn't expand on it, keeping the conversation on track instead, much to Yuzu's delight. "Anyway, if you're asking for permission, obviously it's a yes. I wouldn't have let her ask in the first place if I wasn't okay with it. And she's smart. You could do worse for a part-time student."
Urahara remains motionless and unblinking for another few seconds. "...Was this why you invited us for dinner?"
Ichigo shrugs again. "Not really. It's not like I knew you knew poisons. I just thought my sisters should meet you, that's all."
"And why's that?" Hirako interjects, also watching Ichigo with gleaming eyes that never waver. "Cuz ya don't seem the type to let jus' anyone get close to your nearest and dearest."
Ichigo turns to him, and his eyes are fond in a way they very rarely are when aimed at anyone not Yuzu or Karin or Mizuiro. It's not quite on the same level, but it does make it even more obvious that Hirako has her brother's favour.
"I thought it'd be good if they knew a few Shinigami," Ichigo says offhandedly, although judging by the slight stir of surprise from both guests, they hadn't expected he would just come out and say it. Or perhaps they're surprised he's talking about it in front of Yuzu and Karin and Mizuiro? But they're family. Yuzu doesn't know everything about Ichigo, but that's just because she doesn't want to know that much about her brother's life, not because Ichigo wouldn't tell her if she or Karin asks.
"You seem like you might bring trouble to my doorstep one day," Ichigo says, somewhat out of the blue, and all at once, Urahara tugs at his hat again just as Yuzu gets a sense of shifty-eyed discomfort all but waving support lights over the man's head. Hirako sort of feels the same, but in a less... personal way.
So whatever's going on, Urahara's probably the one in charge.
Ichigo seems to sense it too, or he's long guessed it considering his not great feelings for Urahara. Either way, he scoffs, and the light in his eyes says he's annoyed, but not annoyed enough to do something permanent about it. Yet. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So I figured it's better for you to know who you should do your very best to protect if shit goes down around them, because otherwise, I might not even feel like hearing you out. Understand?"
Hirako glances at Yuzu, at Karin, even at Mizuiro, then he turns back to Ichigo, solemn in a way Yuzu hasn't seen since they met, "I understand."
It sounds like a promise.
Ichigo hums, satisfied. Neither of them prods at Urahara for an answer, and Urahara doesn't give one. He feels flat again, like a scrap of paper.
"So like I said," Ichigo continues briskly. "If you wanna teach her, knock yourself out. You can send me the bill."
Yuzu beams at him. Looks like she won't have to waste any cakes.
From his seat, Urahara heaves a sigh, and now he just seems tired and still a bit baffled, but he also finally looks at her again like he's assessing her potential. Yuzu straightens and adopts her best imploring face.
This of all things makes Urahara's mouth twitch, and he even feels amused, except it's the sort of amusement that's all wrapped up in razor-wire mockery. That bit doesn't show on his face of course. Still, Yuzu's fingers suddenly itch with the urge to swap out his bowl with the other one after all.
"So clumsy," The man muses, one finger tapping at the cane leaning against his chair. "...Very well, I suppose I may have a few things I can impart to a budding... chemistry enthusiast. On one condition however. And I don't want money."
He looks at Ichigo again, except he doesn't say anything. Ichigo seems to understand anyway because a grin pulls at his lips, a touch too savage to fit on a human face, and aimed at anyone else, Yuzu knows they wouldn't even have time to pick out a coffin.
Urahara seems to be an exception. It makes Yuzu wonder if he's just that strong, certain in his ability to forever remain stronger than her brother, or if he's simply gambling with his life, and it's Ichigo instead who's decided to be uncharacteristically patient.
She hopes it's not the former, because she has no faith in anyone who thinks themselves capable of staying ahead of her brother forever. But if it's the latter, then maybe she'll have enough time to wheedle out everything Urahara knows of poisons before Ichigo snaps and kills him.
"That seems a bit unbalanced," Ichigo remarks.
Urahara inclines his head, and this time, his voice rings of the same vow that had reverberated in Hirako's earlier. "Upon my blade, my life before your family's, should the worst come to pass."
Ichigo laughs, soft and without humour. "This trouble must be something else. That, or you don’t think your life’s worth all that much. But fine. We'll hash it out tomorrow. Keep your word, and I might even go along with whatever you and your people have been cooking up. But Yuzu gets to bug you for lessons any day of the week from now on."
And once again, between one breath and the next, Urahara trades the gravity for the false affability from before.
It's like watching a performance, Yuzu thinks.
She glances at her brother and watches him watch Urahara, still annoyed, still a bit like he could put a knife through the other's ribs if it wouldn't mean the hassle of mopping blood off the floor.
Ichigo likes Hirako. Yuzu does too, even though they just met not even half an hour ago. There's something about him that makes him approachable and friendly despite the very obvious beast lurking beneath his skin. But that too might be part of the charm because Yuzu's long used to the same thing from her brother. Knowing even just that much, it's not a shock that Ichigo has clicked with him - a fellow monster - in a way he never has even with Mizuiro.
But Urahara is different. Urahara is treated with tolerance only, with irritation and discontent and even derision, on and off. But Yuzu knows that her brother has killed people for a whole lot less than that, and yet here Urahara sits at their family's table while Ichigo looks at him from time to time, tolerant and irritated and discontent and derisive, and he can't stop looking.
She wonders if even her brother is aware of what he's doing.
"I'll leave my number," The man offers, complete with a genial smile. "And you may stop by my shop anytime. Allow me a few days, and I shall have some reading material organized for you."
Yuzu perks up, nods, and finally sits back down, then gets up again to fetch two extra bowls of rice, this time clean of any poison. Hirako snickers but accepts his with a nod. Urahara does the same, with that same winning smile, and then dinner restarts, this time uninterrupted.
Well, who cares if Ichigo is aware or not? He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And besides, it’s all the same in the end— people who push her brother too far will face the consequences, and those who don't will not. That's just the simple truth of it.
But in the meantime, Urahara at least won't be going anywhere, which means Yuzu can finally get some guidance for one of her favourite hobbies, and honestly, that's all she really cares about.
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