#and it’s also the first and only thing i could draw since my nephew died 👍

[wawataka]

i know this jokes been made like a million times but here’s my take

[i-will-go-with-you-five]

My Five Lore

Heyyyyy I thought it was finally time to make this post! I've been doing ZR for about nine months now and have been posting from the sidelines so I figured it was about time to introduce myself and Five. Just a little rundown on what my Five is like and her story and stuff. She's basically me, but with a couple things changed.

Apperance:

She’s on the shorter side- Sam is always putting his elbow on her shoulder to annoy her but she secretly loves it :) And pretty stocky but really strong. Simon challenged her to a lifting competition once and while he eventually won, she had him sweating and it was a close thing. She wears her hair in really long double Dutch braids, and has a round face with bright hazel green eyes and a big smile. She also wears really brightly colored gear, especially shoes, its a long-lasting joke with her and the other runners. She's unreasonably attached to axes and baseball caps, and is pretty much constantly wearing something Jody made her.

She has a couple of pretty faint nicks and slices on her hands, from before the apocalypse. She got those was first learning to butcher as a teenager. But since the outbreak, she's gotten a stab wound on her left shoulder, and permanent bruising on her shins. She's very susceptible to shin splints, but its the apocalypse, so it's not like she can properly rest and treat them.

UPDATE: she has new scars now from the ending of Season Two. They are Pretty Important.

[One day I will make the most beautiful drawing of her ever. One day.]

Background:

Five is basically me, with a couple things (appearance, where she lived, some family details, etc) changed. She lived in Northern Montana, a stone's throw away from Canada, and was doing college remotely while working on a farm that raised big animals, and took care of her nieces and nephews while her siblings were at work. That's why she's such a jack-of-all-trades, with book and street smarts, she had a very diverse range of skills due to how she grew up. I consider Five as an AU of myself if I had been thrust into the apocalypse, so personality and history-wise Five and I are similar, except for the trauma of the apocalypse, where she was on her own for almost four months after Z-Day, and hardened her a bit. Five's real name is Lydia, but not a single person besides her knows that.

Early Outbreak:

She went on a rare vacation with her best friend, Nina, and her best friend's family to London two days before the outbreak, in early November of 2023. The worst timing. One day she's on a plane, the next she's seeing Big Ben for the first time, and the day after that hundreds of people have turned, including Nina's family, and they're fleeing for their lives in the chaos.

The plan was for the two of them to try and contact Lydia's family and try to find a way to get home, but the phone lines were all down within a day. So they decided to just get out of the city. Nina got bitten when they were on the outskirts of London, after a week of them surviving together. Lydia stayed with her as she died. Nina begged Lydia to kill her zombie-self, but Lydia just couldn't do it- she fled instead. She decided to kill her name, Lydia, along with her friend's death. It was the only way she felt that she could mourn.

She was then on her own for about four months, and her circumstances really changed her. She'd always been a a happy and trusting person, but each person she tried to group up with ended up betraying her, in a multitude of ways. She threw up mental barriers and became pretty grim and trusted no one. She can talk, but only to people that she likes, and only to one or two people at a time. The bigger the crowd, the quieter she is. But when she gets in a place of being comfortable, she has a lot to say. But in those four months, she said less and less, to the point where some people assumed she was mute. She had to stifle who she was in order to survive, and it took a huge toll on her. The pain of her bottled-up emotions was buried deep.

She's a Christian, and the only thing that kept her going in the apocalypse was clinging onto Christ with all of her might, even if her faith had been shaken by what seemed like the end of the world. She just kept running and fighting for something greater than herself. Save the next person stuck in a building, even if they stole her supplies. Run supplies to different groups of people, even if they then beat her bloody and left her for the zombies. Lead a pack of zombies away from a guy trapped in a tree, even if he then throttled her neck and made it even harder to speak. Give a message to a radio outpost, even if they then dishonored their side of the agreement and held her at gunpoint, rather than just attempt to send airwaves to the States in search of her family. Because if she couldn't do the right thing, and try to stay faithful to her values and Jesus, what good was left in the world?

She ended up at Mullins because, once again, she got betrayed. A group of highway robbers caught her unawares, and she literally ran into some soldiers, who promised to just help her get out of the tight spot, but instead brought her to Mullins and enlisted her. Sour and panicked, she was so uncooperative to the point where they shipped her out to Abel for Project Greenshoot so they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore.

Getting to Abel:

While the apocalypse has been The Worst Thing Ever, getting her helicopter shot down was probably the best thing that ever happened to her in the apocalypse. It was the last thing that she expected, a rocket launcher barreling towards her, after everything she's already been through, and it shook her. For the first time since when she had a depressive episode as a preteen, she just simply wanted to die. Death seemed like the best option as she fell through the air to the sound of hungry zombies beneath her. Everything hurt too much. God wasn't answering her sobbing cries of help every night. She'd given it her all and it still wasn't enough. Gave far more than she took and got hurt every time. If she gave up, everything would just be easier. She was about to accept her death and simply let go of life. It wasn't like she had any friends or family left to love her anymore.

But when that voice crackled into her headset, urging her on and giving her a name, Five, which felt right in a way she couldn't explain, encouraging her- she knew she had to keep going. Life wasn't over yet. There was still hope. So she ran. And the longer that voice, Sam, spoke, the lighter she felt and the less emotionally exhausted she became. A voice in the back of her mind told her that this was the answer to her prayers for a friend, and for help. But she was still incredibly cautious. This seemed like the nicest person in the world, but what if he hurt her? What if she got betrayed again? After all, she knew nothing of who this Sam Yao was, beyond being awkward and sweet and kind of adorable. Wait, adorable? Where had that thought come from?

She wanted to be mistrustful of everyone at Abel when she got there, that was her intent. Especially after the doctor threatened to not let her in. But having those people show her kindness that she hadn't seen in months crumpled her barriers like wet paper. By the time her 8-week training was over she'd sunk right into Abel perfectly. Jody was her good friend who was always up for a hug and a story, Janine was smart and practical and reminded her of her older sister to the point where she started to treat Janine like an older sister, Eugene was a goofball who made bad jokes with her while sympathizing with what she'd been through, and Maxine was a God-send for figuring out how to turn off her survival mode again.

And during that time, she wanted to become friends with Sam, the voice who saved her, so badly. But he was wrapped up in grief from Alice's death. Which she understood. Nina's death still ate at her. Not to mention having no idea if her family was dead or alive. So even though it killed her, because this was the first time she'd wanted to have a friend in forever, she kept her distance to protect him from her brokenness. Because even though she'd lightened up, she still was a woman of few words who held all of her pain back from everyone. Even if that voice in her head saying Sam was God's answer to her problems got stronger and more insistent every day. And even if Maxine told her multiple times that Sam relied on her more than he could express or she could realize. She had to hold back.

Being a Runner: falling for each other

Until the night run in the dark. [fanfic one shot here that will eventually become a twoshot once I finish the post-run debrief.] Where all that slammed through Sam's head was I need a miracle for Five, and all that slammed through Five's was I'm running for Sam. And the moment she crashed into Sam's arms, him sobbing with relief and her sobbing with exhaustion and delirium, was the moment that she realized that she did, in fact, love Sam Yao. And for Sam, that was the moment he realized that he had to become her best friend. And the rest of that night was the first time Five told anyone about her past and her pain and what the apocalypse had been like for her. And Sam was there. As they talked and listened to one another was the moment they firmly became best friends.

Five’s love for Sam only grows in the next few months. But… she doesn’t know what to say, or even think honestly. She’s never been in love before. Ever. She’s, well, she’s scared. Which she knows is stupid. But what do you even say about something like that? ‘Hey Sam, you've chipped away at the hardened exterior that I was forced to adopt bit by bit, and I've become myself again, and you push me to be even better than I was every day. Also I am totally in love with you.'? So she says it in every way besides words. With each moment with Sam. Each gesture is her way of saying I love you. And she runs. For the same reasons as before- her faith. Her trust in God. Her putting goodness back into the terrible world. But now for another reason too. For Sam. For his voice. And even if he doesn't understand it, how he pushes her to trust in her faith even more. Her faith and trust in God are stronger than ever now and she's very strong in it and tries to shine that light to others.

Sam realizes that he loves Five when someone sends Five to die out of spite, as revenge. She's coming back into the gates, angry but not as angry as he is. He's ready to throw down with the person who did that to his runner. Then the way she just grasps his shoulders, locking eyes with him, and reminding him to breathe, he just- falls. So hard and so fast. He knew that this was coming. He's felt it growing since she came back brandishing supplies with the biggest smile in the world for the DnD campaign he was starting. But he ignored it. And now he can't anymore. Because it's Five. His Five. But what do you even say about something like that? ‘Hey Five, you mean everything to me, actually. You've given me something to fight for each day, given me hope when I've had none, and have helped me grow so much and overcome my doubts. I really, really, really love you, more than anyone or anything.’ So he tells her with his words, with every single thing he says. Every voice crack of fear or excitement over comms. Except those three, which are coincidentally, the most important ones. He talks, for the same reason as before. To protect the people he loves. But now for another reason too. For Five. For her running. For who she's pushed him to become. How she's taught him to fight for something even bigger than before.

There is an ending for their story (its REALLY good) but you're just gonna have to wait to read it until I'm done writing it tehehehe! It's more climactic that way. I'll link it here when it's done.

And there we go! A little bit about my Five and her story <3 Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

@stellar-collective made my pfp! It's from this fanfic dabble

Ao3

[ducktoonsfanart]

Donald Duck and his family mourn the dead in memory of the victims of the terrorist attack and bombing - Donald Duck and his family in Moscow (Russia) and Belgrade (Serbia) - Duck comics - Duckverse

Unfortunately, sorry for the long wait, because I was sick for a few weeks, and I'm recovering a bit now, so I haven't had a chance to draw and post new drawings. Yes, I'm back and will post follow-up drawings related to the previous holidays that were marked as well as the following holidays in the coming period.

Unfortunately, due to the recent events, I am publishing my sad drawings where Donald Duck and his family mourn the deceased. The first drawing shows Donald Duck with Daisy Duck, along with his nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck who went to Moscow (the capital of Russia) and where they are mourning the dead and honoring the departed since a week ago (22.3. 2024) a terrorist attack took place in Moscow, in the Crocus City Hall, where over 140 people were killed and over 360 wounded. More could have been killed, if not for a few young men (Muslims and Russians) who saved the other people and took them out of the concert hall, because a concert by a Russian music group was about to take place. Among the dead were not only Russians, but also members of other nationalities who wanted to see that concert. The perpetrators are alleged Muslim terrorists from the Islamic State, and all of them were later caught. I don't want to go further into the discussion about the main principal who financed these terrorists, nor do I want to go into the discussion about the current war in Ukraine, because my blog is not about politics and please don't ask me those questions. This just shows my respect for the deceased not only the victims of that terrorist attack but also all the victims who died in terrorist attacks in the last more than 24 years. It is certainly a terrible event, which is why two days of mourning were declared after that, and I drew the Russian flag at half-mast, because on the day of mourning, the flag is only flown at half-mast, and Daisy in that drawing is wearing a coat and a black bow as a sign of mourning and black clothes are usually worn at funerals. Behind them, you can see the Basilica of St. Basil as well as the Spasskaya Tower, which is located within the Kremlin. Rest in peace to those victims.

Покойтесь с миром жертвы теракта! Слава им! Аминь.

The second drawing shows Donald with his family who are in Belgrade (the capital of Serbia) where they are mourning those who died and died during the bombing by NATO in 1999, as well as the victims in Kosovo and Metohija in 2004. I said that I come from Serbia and what happened 25 years ago was something that many residents of my country cannot forget. I was two years old when it started, so I don't remember it, except from the story of my parents. I don't want to go further into the discussion about the beginning of the war because the topic is too painful, and I doubt that many would understand what I would say. All in all, civilians did not deserve such a thing and it is very difficult to get over such wounds. Because among the dead there were also children who suffered from NATO bombing. There was also the courage of the soldiers who defended the country from the attackers and died bravely defending their country, so they are also honored. In addition to Donald, there are also Daisy Duck, Grandma Duck (Elvira Coot), Scrooge McDuck, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck (Donald's nephews), April, May and June Duck (Daisy's nieces) where they pay tribute to those who died in that war as well as in the violence in Kosovo and Metohija that occurred in 2004, when there was also a mass exodus of Serbs, Roma, Bosniaks and other non-Albanian people from Kosovo and Metohija and the demolition of numerous Orthodox monasteries and churches by Albanian fanatics. Behind them is the Church of St. Sava, one of the largest Orthodox churches in the world, as well as the Beogradanka building, where one of Belgrade's television stations is located. On that grave is written the dedication to those victims as well as the flowers brought to that grave.

Rest in peace to those victims! Amen.

Вечна слава настрадалима и нека почивају у миру! Амин.

Also, since tomorrow is Good Friday, the day of the martyrdom of Jesus Christ, which is a sad day for Christians.

These are my tribute to those victims as well as those who suffered, and that the victims should not be forgotten and history should not be forgotten, because if it is forgotten, it will repeat itself again. Feel free to share this, but please do not use this for other people's purposes and please do not complicate it with political issues, because this blog is not dedicated to that. May God welcome the victims into the Kingdom of God and may they receive eternal glory! Rest in peace! Amen.

[intothetlkverse]

Decided to challenge myself by drawing every single TLK character out there, up until this point in time, and post it here. You can see the finished project on my main account, though I figured to post it on my tumblr just show I could proudly show off my work and a few of my head canons.

Here are all the warthogs across TLK:

Starting off we have the OG warthog Pumbaa(foolish, amuse) and his family: his mother Mnene(thick), brother and sister Pumu(asthma) and Pumzika(take a rest/relax), and father Mpa(belly-Southern Sotho). Mpa and Mnene were childhood sweethearts, although Mpa died when his hoglets were very young due to protecting them from a leopard attack. Distraught, though determined, Mnene found help with her sister-in-law and several other pigs of a sounder to raise her hogs in and named them with names reminiscent of her late husband(although she is unaware of what her boys' names mean). Mnene would tell stories of how kind and sweet a warthog her husband was to her hogs, and between that and being raised by his uncles and aunt would inspire Pumbaa to adopt the nurturing, paternal figure and take in orphans to raise. Pumu and Pumzika are Pumbaa's brother and sister. Only girl Pumzika adopted much of her aunt's behavior with a deep appreciation for prettier things and less... mucky warthog activities, so she spent more of her time frolicking in flower fields, bathing in creeks, and otherwise prissying up her looks. She's rather vain and proud of her looks, which unfortunately drove a wedge between her and Pumbaa, due to him struggling to make friends due to his extreme flatulence. She got married young and hasn't seen her brother or much of her family since. Pumu has much more confidence then his younger brother, though that's mostly due to lack of insecurity and less brain cells then Pumbaa. He's since joined a sounder and will be having a family with hoglets soon, though Pumbaa hasn't seen much of him since.

Speaking of family, we have Uncle Boaris/Boaraya(boar-Somali), Uncle Ernie/Erbe(mercy-Igbo) and paternal aunt, 'Auntie'/Anti(aunt-Zulu). After Mpa's death, Anti was first to offer support and help her sister-in-law take care of her niece and nephews. Erbe and Boaraya, though male warthogs tend to have not much to do with hoglets, were close friends to Mpa and wanted to honor their friend, so they became the supportive and paternal uncle figures. Their attitudes and life lessons would inspire Pumbaa to later take on and adopt several orphans and babysit other creatures, nurtured by his uncle's kindness.

Boaraya is younger here, hence why he has hair, meant to look like his original's Russian ushanka hat, though he later goes bald like Erbe. Aside from his nasty eye and scar, caused from  a fight with a rival pig, Boaraya is extremely warm, kind, and welcoming, as well as very graceful and musically-inclined for a warthog. His dancing is what initially caught the attention of his later wife Anti, who has a taste for the finer things in life, including home furnishings and matchmaking her nephew with potential suitors. Uncle Erbe is Mnene's brother. Erbe may look the toughest, but he's a real teddy bear of a pig, sort of like a soccer coach and personal motivator. Boaraya often commented that the reason he doesn't have any hair on his head is that his brain is so big it pushed it out. Very philosophical, supportive, and optimistic, Erbe cares deeply for his family and his niece and nephews.  Anti and Boaraya also have two hoglets together, Pika and Tumbaa.

Mr. Buttons/Bọtini(buttons-Yoruba) is Uncle Boaris' younger brother, talking to Rosebud/Irozi(rose-Zulu) here. Irozi was Pumbaa's mother and other family member's idea in order to make him happier by betrothing someone who actually appreciated the more unappealing aspects of his... life. However Pumbaa was already living with his boyfriend Timon and raising Simba at the time, so he helped get his uncle Bọtini with her, as he did have a crush on her and was struggling with his own insecurities about his appearance. They have been happily married and have several hoglets together, and Pumbaa was the best pig at the wedding.

Baampu(disaster) is Pumbaa's cousin through uncle Erbe. Baampu is also the father of Amba's children, including Growler. Since he was intended to be a backwards Pumbaa, I decided to change him more by flipping his nose and tooth around, pushing forward his mane, and gave him larger tusks and a more stouter, rounded body, basically more yokel style. He is also the father of Amba's children, including Growler.

Pika(cook) is a female warthog, Boaraya and Anti's daughter, Tumbaa's sister and Pumbaa's cousin. She is very close with her cousin and often they spend time together with her hoglets and husband.

Next up we have two love interests for Pumbaa: Growler's mother/Amba(big) and Sharla/Sharifa(distinguished-Arabic). Amba is the mother of Growler and four other hoglets(Dharau, Umo, Kiru, and Soka) and part of her father's sounder. They come across Pumbaa's trio while out foraging and Amba is smitten with Pumbaa and his kind, funny nature and willingly started to teach him the more 'warthog way of life', including burrowing and finding food when it was scarce. However her attention towards him made her eldest son Growler envious and he began lashing out at Pumbaa, eventually resulting in an event where poor Pumbaa was framed and almost mobbed, though thankfully was resolved without violence, although Amba did have to exile her son for his treachery. This event made her realize that she perhaps needed to ensure that her children received enough of her attention so they would not become like their brother, and so Amba and Pumbaa parted ways amicably.

Sharifa is the sister of Irozi, Chukua, Kesi, and Tuka. She and her brothers are part of a sounder, of which her former boyfriend Pumbaa was part of before his flatulence ostracized him from the group, though she did still have feelings for him. She's an authoritative and strong leader, but she is also very kind and compassionate, something her followers value her for.

'Guy'/Kijana(guy) and Pongaa(congratulate) are a couple. Pongaa is a warthog that Pumbaa saves from a python and becomes infatuated with him, before his more 'clean' lifestyle disinterested him and another warthog caught her attention. Guy is only mentioned by name and never seen, so I took some liberties designing him. I decided to give Kijana green eyes since his name is close to the Swahili word for 'green', Kijani. Considering he appears right as Pongaa loses interest in Pumbaa, I got the impression he was nearby hoping to snag her for himself, hence why he had a bit of a sleezy look. In my book he is a womanizer who leaves Pongaa when he gets what he wants, leaving her and a slew of broken hearts in his wake. He never gives his name to his ladies, so all they know him as is 'that Guy'.

Next up we have Amba's father Chief Warthog/Chiifu(chief-Igbo), and her son, Growler/Gquma(growl-Zulu). Chiifu is leader of the sounder of The Rocks and is very protective of both his territory and family. He was willing to let his daughter invite Pumbaa to stay for a week to learn about being warthogs, hoping that he might become a stepfather to her hoglets after her mate dipped, though his grandson's actions sabotaged any beginning relationship and made him reevaluate his perspectives. Gquma was his favorite grandson and he had hoped for him to take over the sounder when he was older, showering him with affection and building up his strength and confidence with training. Gquma grew up spoiled under all the attention and praise, and grew up conceited and rude because of it. When his mother started showing attention to a newcomer, he let his jealousy get the best of him, first trying to push Pumbaa away with aggressive, rude tactics, but when that failed he tried to manipulate his grandpa's feelings by making him believe that Pumbaa was here to steal his land. When Pumbaa's friends and mother found out, Amba ousted him from the sounder, declaring his a disgrace. It's unknown where Gquma is now, though Amba hopes if she ever sees him again that he will have learned that his actions do have consequences and has changed for the better.

Continuing with leaders, Cisco Pig/Chago(supplanted-African) is a leader of a small sounder in the plains. Though known for being rough, rude, and dominating, the group does have some honor in not harming the young and innocent, as well as returning the favor for good deeds shown towards them. Tumbaa(tobacco) is the opposite. Pumbaa's cousin, Pika's younger brother, and Anti and Boaraya's only son, he was much more rude, entitled, and disrespectful, preferring to use his strength to get what he wants, even if he has to fight and bully others for it. He's paired up with a similarly-minded, buff meerkat named Pimo and both have become something of an infamous duo. He's currently estranged from his sister and parents and have recently paired themselves with a lion named Lesion.

However neither antagonistic warthog could very compete in inciting fear and pandemonium as the Walivaa uovu(wear evil), or the 'Werehog' as some call it. A story shrouded in mystery and terror, a shadowy creature that stalks in the night, sucking blood from sleeping creatures and tearing flesh off bone in an instant, leaving behind a skeleton to be found in morning while the soul remains blissfully unaware and sleeping for all eternity, unknowing of what had transpired. To those who encounter the beast on a full moon describe it as a warthog-like shape with a crocodile-maw of teeth, hooves like lion claws, and occasionally more bizarre features such as antelope horns, bat wings, a tail like a snake, etc. These are all just rumors, as the figure is often comparable to the shadow monster known as the Zimwi, and the legend is popular in more scrubland, rocky plain areas, or misty cliffsides where warthogs are often found, though one thing is certain, on nights of the full moon, best stay deep within your den or burrow and avoid being in moonlight. For if the Walivaa uovu finds you, you will never be found by anyone else ever again.

Next is a trio of warthogs that is part of Sharla's sounder(which, according to the storyboard, names are Chunder, Kevin, and Tunka), so here is Chukua(take it), Kesi(case), and Tuka(split). They are Sharla's brothers and together they form a sounder.

From the T&P episode "Animal Barn" Mr Pig. is Nguruwe(pig) and is the father of Rosebud, Sharla, and the above trio and is a very prideful, serious, and rude, especially towards Pumbaa, which both of his daughters have expressed interest in. Mr. Giant Forest Hog from the Lion Guard is Mzizi(root), and despite his introduction and attacking the mocking gorilla princes, which in fairness valid, is a pretty reasonable and likeable fellow. He's very young, hence why then lion cub Kion was able to pounce on him, but by the time he's an adult, he'll still be up to size with the princes, though will thankfully have a better relationship with them. Despite them coming into his territory and mocking him with imitations of his calls, he's actually a very relaxed, gentle fellow who enjoys gardening.

[moku-youbi]

Starker plot bunny

So I've been having all these fandomy dreams lately. And like, don't get me wrong, it's sort of awesome, because they're like full-length fanfics playing out and it's just great. But on the other hand, some of them are for ships I don't even ship? And I'm like I don't even go here, but this is really good?? And maybe I should write it?

Like this Starker dream I had where hand-wavey magic happens with Dr. Strange and Peter at some future point. Where Dr. Strange feels like there's something really shady going on with Peter, but can also tell that HE, himself cast whatever spell is causing it, so he's not going to poke at it. But then Peter made a wish to go back in time and somehow forced Strange to do it? Look, it was a dream, okay. I'd have to work on that part of it. Because I'm actually on planing on writing this *facepalm*

But Peter ends up transmigrating back before Endgame/Infinity War. He doesn't know HOW, but he's going to fix everything, and he's got all the time in the world to figure it out, because it turns out Strange's spell permeates time and space, so everyone still has forgotten him.

So he still it starts doing the Spider-Man thing, although with far more sophistication than his original sweats and goggles, with all the knowledge of Stark's technology from the future. Of course he doesn't have access to all of that but he is able to slip around the edges of society finding bits and pieces of what he needs to construct his suits. Also he obviously isn't posting about himself on YouTube this time around (like, I could see him doing it just for the ad revenue but he has no identity in universe, so how's he gonna get paid??)

Stark still takes an interest in trying to figure out who this person is but is particularly frustrated when he can't find any sort of trail. Peter is way more savvy with age, aware of surveillance and staying under the radar so has not to draw attention to himself. He's having a difficult enough time as someone who is in a 14-year-old body with no family or friends, no identity, trying to earn enough money to get by getting paid under the table for various jobs. The last thing he needs is someone whether the police or shield or whoever noticing what this kid is getting up to and/or knowing Spider-Man's identity.

For Stark that means never being able to catch the transition from Peter to Spider-Man anywhere on video, so he has no visual of Peter to go from, he's also tried showing up at Spider-Man's battle scenes after the fact gathering what clues he can. Partial fingerprints from torn gloves get him nowhere. He does find DNA that eventually leads him to Ben Parker as the only living relative to him, and a close one at that. However there are no records of any other member of that family living. He considers that it could be Ben's brother faking his death, but the DNA would indicate a nephew, and his only brother died never having children.

It's a mystery that is really driving Stark insane. What started as curiosity and wanting to reach out to Spidey to see if he's interested in joining The Avengers has now turned into a bit of an obsession. (Especially since spidey always manages to disappear when Stark tries to confront him with Iron Man) Part of this is due to how Strange's spell works. In my dream, the way I conceived of it is that it doesn't actually erase memories or physical evidence of Peter, it just makes everyone forget he was there in the first place. Like, memories with him are still there, but the mind just slips over the parts with Peter. Photos of him are still there, but it's a sort of Westworld-esque "that doesn't look like anything to me" reaction. They just don't see all the places where he is or was in their lives.

And we all know Tony will not leave shit alone, this is like an itch in his brain. So the spell itself is actually fuelling Tony's obsession. It's a puzzle he needs to understand. The more someone tries to focus on those gaps, however, the more the spell fights back. So Tony is getting these awful headaches and occasionally reality goes all blurry, and he keeps getting what he thinks are hallucinations but are actually memories overlaying the gaps in reality that the spell has caused.

This is where the dream got to weird so that when I write it I'll have to figure out my own solution. Because in the dream Tony and Peter had been lovers in universe before Tony's death, and one of the biggest clues was him finding love letters they'd exchanged, and I'm just not feeling that at all. Peter would have been way too young for Stark to even consider it, and I don't want him cheating on Pepper, and I am trying to keep the original timeline close to canon.

So IDK how exactly Tony figures it out, which is one of the bigger hurdles on face when I actually start this fic. I think it has to come to a head when Spider-Man is forced to approach Iron Man for help with some mission and being in that close proximity, hearing Spider-Man's voice, his jokes, something familiar about the way he talks and moves is going to cause a serious mental break for Tony at the worst possible time.

Of course Spidey saves him and is sort of frantically checking that Tony is okay after the fact crying and babbling about how Tony can't die again about how Peter needs him, about how the world needs him, just losing his shit. Tony can hear the cracking of his voice, can tell how young he sounds now when he's not affecting a deeper register. And he's also picking up on all the little clues and what Peter is saying that just confirm his suspicions that somehow Tony should know him. Pulls off his mask, and sees his face, and doesn't know where the name comes from, but whispers, "Peter?"

Anyway, I woke before it could entirely be resolved. But I imagine with Tony in his corner, Peter explains as much as he can about what he knows is coming and the two of them start working together to prevent Thanos from ever having access to the various stones. And over the course of it falling in love. I mean Peter was pretty much already there, but Stark is having a hell of a time with it. He knows intellectually that Peter is an adult and really tries to acknowledge that and treat Peter with the respect he deserves, but he also has trouble getting past what Peter looks like in his teenage body. And Peter struggles with it knowing that if they do this, Tony is never going to reconcile with Pepper and Morgan isn't going to be born, which is a lot of angst I'm not prepared for right now. IDK. Maybe I could go for some sort of poly ending, or Pepper being a surrogate and coparent??*shrugs* (like I said, I don't go here--im all about the Spideypool, and I love Tony/Pepper, what was my brain on??)

Also trying to decide where to set this in the timeline of the past, because I really want to save Ben, but it fits better for the storyline if he comes back post Civil War and Homecoming. Because then Stark has memories of Peter that have been affected by the spell.

So, obviously it needs workshopping, if anyone wants to help, lol.

[chilly-me-softly]

Lifespan • Mason Mount

Warning: mention of death, other than that I hope you like it x

-

When you started to think that something was wrong, that you were different from everyone else, you were afraid. Whenever you were on the verge of talking to someone about it, you simply couldn't; the fear of being seen as crazy or not being believed was always in the forefront of your mind.

It all started when you turned twenty-one, before that you had never had a chance to believe that something was wrong with you. Your sister had just become a mother and everyone in the family was so happy with the new arrival, including you, that you went to see them with your hands full of presents as soon as you could.

That little bundle was so small and defenceless, in his cradle carefree and ready to live all the life he had ahead of him. You took him in your arms, careful not to be too rough, cuddling him for a while, captivated by that little miracle and swearing to yourself that you would do anything to be an example to him.

Something shiny on his leg had caught your attention, a series of numbers running backwards like a countdown had you raising an eyebrow in confusion. 89:54:12...11...10...09... you had brushed it tentatively but nothing happened.

"You're all right (Y/N)? Is something wrong?" the new mother had asked, seeing you focused on looking at her son's skin and knowing how you were always looking for the smallest details.

Looking up at your sister and back down at the little leg, it was all gone. Just as it had appeared it was gone and you shake your head, "Nah don't worry about it. I'm just still in shock from this beauty"

Over the next few days that episode buzzed around in your head annoyingly, you were curious wanting to find out what it was but at the same time it scared you. What if it was a curse rather than a good thing? Several times you had gone back to visit your nephew and each time the number was different, lower. And you found you could only see it once a day, the sign disappearing just as it appeared. At its own pace. You could only see it on the side of the left leg, it was hard to see when covered up and you couldn't see it on yourself.

That thought now took up all your spare time, you had even researched it on the internet but had not been very lucky. You had found out what it was at your own expense.

You had errands to run that day and got up early, it was a nice day and you thought you'd leave the car in the garage and go for a nice walk. You look down at your phone as you wait for the pedestrian light to turn green and as you do so you realise your shoe is untied. You lean down to fix it and a sparkle draws your attention to your right, a little girl apparently alone with a backpack bigger than her on her shoulders is waiting beside you. 00:00:06 is written on her leg.

The light turns green and lots of people start walking quickly before getting stuck in the red light again. You hurry walking but when people start shouting to be careful you instinctively grab that little girl by her backpack pulling her to you avoiding an accident, a truck that didn't even stop.

"Thank you, ma'am"

"Oh my god are you alright?" you murmur shocked walking the child to the other side of the pavement safely as she nods and then goes on her way, you following her with your eyes. Until she collapses to the ground and you swear your heart skipped a beat as your legs start running towards her, 00:00:00 in red on her leg.

-

Mason immediately notices something is wrong with you as soon as he opens the door, your expression blank and your face almost colourless. He immediately wraps you in a hug closing the door gently and your grip tightens when he would like to pull away to look you in the eye.

"What's going on (Y/N)?" he asks worriedly, stroking your hair as you shake your head, you held on as you tried to resuscitate that little girl in vain; as they loaded her into the ambulance with the sheet on her tiny body and even as you answered the police's questions. And you're literally exhausted, tears start to roll down your cheeks as Mason forces you to look at him, laying his hands on your cheeks gently but firmly. "You're worrying me"

"There was an accident today" you murmur with a broken voice and he takes a step back to look at you entirely and make sure with his eyes that nothing is out of place. He pulls you to his chest again as he tries to get you to move towards the couch.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks softly not wanting to push you, you sit by his side leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. Your tongue goes to stop a tear that is falling down powerfully at that moment.

"There was a little girl" you tremble at the mere memory, "she was maybe twelve. And we were... there was a red light and then we crossed and she was alive"

"Oh babe" he sighs stroking your back, watching you shake your head.

"No Mase, she was alive on the other side of the road. Then... then she fell to the ground and-" a sob shakes your body as he looks at you helplessly.

"I knew it"

"What? Babe it was a random accident, you couldn't have known"

"I knew it Mason! I knew something was going to happen but I thought that having saved her from the truck she was going to be saved and instead..."

"What are you saying (Y/N)?"

"Mason, I'm losing my mind" you look at him genuinely scared and he wastes no time in wrapping you around himself again. "You just went through a traumatic event, it's normal for you to feel upset honey"

"No I- I need to tell you something" you sit up properly not breaking eye contact, watching him swallow but waiting for you to continue. And you tell him everything from the beginning trying to be as accurate as possible, from the birth of your nephew to the shiny writing on his leg; the research and testing to find out more and more every day, to that day when you really realised what it was by learning that you can't change fate.

"What's the point if I can't do anything to change it?" is the first thing you ask to a silent Mason, trying to absorb that strong informations all at once. And you can't blame him if he doesn't want to believe you, I mean it's kind of surreal, isn't it?

"You can see the date of people's deaths?"

"Apparently. But please call it a person's lifespan instead" he nods, his hand touching your knee to make you feel his presence and his thumb stroking you gently.

"Wow all this is just... wow. I wonder if there are more of you out there"

"You believe me?" you're on the verge of tears again as he smiles softly.

"Why wouldn't I, you have magic" he manages to make you laugh in spite of everything, a tear escaping your control but you promptly wipe it away.

"How does it work? Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, "I don't feel anything, just this light which is then replaced by numbers... I should have realised sooner" your gaze ending on Mason's legs who is thankfully wearing long trousers, no more numbers for today.

He follows your gaze, "Have you seen mine?" the question pops up and you quickly shake your head closing your eyes. "I can't see it if you've got it covered and I don't want to please"

"No hey it's okay, it's okay" slowly he pulls you with him until you're lying on the couch, you sigh settling yourself better in his arms focusing on his beating heart and nothing more.

"Have you tried searching on the internet?" you nod, "Yeah but I haven't found that much"

"Yeah but maybe now that you know what it's for you can look more properly"

"Some other time. I can't do it now"

"We'll do it together when you want to" he leaves a kiss on your temple as you give him a first sweet smile after all those tears.

-

Having someone to share all this with turned out to be a godsend. Just as he had said, since the accident Mason had been with you through everything and you had almost moved in with him.

You would have liked to say that you had learned to live with it, but the truth was that since that day you had been so afraid it might happen again that you no longer looked down. Mason had researched it for you, urging you to try this and that, sometimes much more excited about discovering new things about it than you were. But at the same time he'd also given you your space to decide how to deal with it all and you'd simply decided not to deal with it; not being able to do anything to avoid the inevitable had stopped you from studying how to live with it.

Your phone vibrates and Mason's name appears on the screen after a moment, your smile disappearing little by little as you accept the call. Hearing his voice calms you a little, but that doesn't mean you don't feel your heart in your throat when he tells you that he's in the hospital and that he and Declan were in an accident.

He needs you and you don't think twice about getting in the car and driving to him, phone to your ear as your eyes work further than your legs to try and find him as quickly as possible. And when you do, the relief is so intense that you hold him tightly to you as he groans slightly.

"How are you? Declan?"

"Just a few scratches. He was unconscious when they took him away" Mason sits back in the chair and you at his side stroking his back as you let him run through what happened with his mind, holding him in your arms when he breaks down just like he did to you when you needed him.

"(Y/N) I need you to do something for me" you don't need to make him continue any further to understand what's going through his head.

"No Mason" you shake your head seriously, "don't make me do that"

"Please (Y/N), I need to know" he murmurs looking into your eyes.

"Why? Even if it was you couldn't do anything so why would you want to know?"

"I'd like to make sure he's going to be okay and because I could be around if him..." his breath dies in his throat at the very thought.

"I can't" and you try to stop him as he shakes his head walking away to get some air, putting a glass divider between you and him.

Your gaze drifts from him to the door where nurses come in and out, your leg shaking rhythmically. You don't want to be the one to tell him that news, it would destroy him. But then why does it have to be bad news? Yeah, but what if it is?

You look at Mason one last time before getting up, your mind not even registering what you ask the nurse in the hallway; her sweet smile leading you past the room you seek.

"I'll only stay a couple of minutes, thank you very much" the nurse walks away and you watch your friend from a distance, still undecided as to whether that's the right thing to do. Silently you step into the room moving closer until you're beside the bed, Declan has a few scratches on his face and an injured shoulder at first glance but the fact that he's been unconscious for so long doesn't give the doctors the green light to dismiss him at the moment.

His legs are covered by a sheet and for a moment you think it's a sign. Your hand freezing in mid-air on the first try. And then the glow starting to appear even from under the sheet, your hand moving on its own to uncover his leg and your eyes closing at that light more brightly than usual. Your heartbeat the only thing you can hear for a moment until you open your eyes. A few tears escape your control as you pull the sheet down as if you got burned, your hand going to cover your mouth as you hurry out of that room.

"Oh (Y/N) what have you done?" you almost clash with Mason and he's quick to wrap his arms around you as you try to pull yourself together. When he hadn't seen you where he'd left you once he'd gotten back, he'd known immediately and the guilt had hit him hard.

He shouldn't have asked you, not knowing the emotional effort you have to put into all that. Declan was going to be fine and even though his fate may be another, knowing that beforehand wouldn't have changed anything; he'd be by his friend's side no matter what and putting you in that position...

"It's okay, I had to do it. If I can't use it to calm those I love, then when?"

"So...?"

"I can't know what's next for him but Declan still has a long life ahead of him" despite everything it's a relief to hear and the boy cheers slightly, his gaze inevitably shifting to his bed visible from outside.

And maybe that's what it's used for, knowing to be able to spend most of our time with someone we love; no regrets.

"Go to him" Mason leaves a kiss on your lips before going to sit next to his friend. A solid 62:03:20 runs down his leg.

[marvelatthetwilight]

Found in Forks

A/N: A quick one. To satisfy an Emmett shaped need in this story.

Y/N’s POV

Months had passed since we had declared our love, solidifying my bond with Paul. We were inseparable. I couldn’t bear to spend time without him, and even in his company, I NEEDED to be as close to him as possible.

When the pack were discussing the threat of the newborn army I couldn’t help my nerves from making my legs shake, my foot tapping against the leg of the table. Paul reached over and squeezed my hand. He gave me a look that said it’ll be ok. I was desperate to believe that was true.

“We are meeting the Cullens in an hour to train.” Sam said after hanging up the phone to Carlisle.

I felt Paul shake with anger beside me and a growl left his lips. “Why do we need to train, we’ve hunted bloodsuckers before?” He said, whilst I curled up against him to dissipate his anger, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Carlisle said this will be different, we need to trust them right now Paul. This threat isn’t just for them, we need to protect the reservation” the pack nodded at this and Paul didn’t press any further.

Everyone split off after this, with Quil and Embry heading off on patrol, agreeing to meet in the field in an hour. I turn in my seat to look Paul in the eye. “I want to come to training.”

Paul laughs, then sees the serious look in my eye and shakes his head. “Nope, not happening. I’m not putting you at risk by taking you to the bloodsuckers. That’s ridiculous.”

I place a hand on either side of his face and look deep into his eyes.

“I need this. I need to see that you will be ok. If I see you train it’ll make me feel better, help me to visualise you winning. Please Paul.” I try my best puppy dog eyes that I know he can’t refuse and he huffs in reply.

“Fine. But you will NOT be leaving my side, promise?”

“As if I ever would.” I reply and he pulls me tight towards him, kissing my forehead.

“I love you Y/N” he looks down at me, his eyes now softer.

“And I love you” I smile up at him and kiss him softly on the lips.

~~~

We had made it to the agreed field, with the Cullens already standing waiting. I could see Bella who Jacob always talking about was standing there too, recognising her from school, so I’m not the only human here. I send a small wave and a smile in her direction and she waved back, surprised to see me with the pack. Edward whispers something to her and she nods in understanding.

I slide off of Paul’s back once we come to a stop, and he gestures for me to take a seat in the grass. He lays down beside me once I am seated.

I look across at the Cullens, my first opportunity to see the whole family, having only seen the “children” briefly at school before.

Your eyes land on Emmett. You remember him from school, sitting in the cafeteria with the other Cullens, and you are reminded how much he looks like your dad and your grandpa. The similarities are uncanny. Images of your dad and your grandpa flash in your head as you compare them to the cold one you see in front of you. Weird.

You glance away and see Edward staring at you, a look of realisation on his face. Paul growls from beside you and you stroke the fur around his face before leaning your head against him. “Oh be quiet Paul, he’s doing nothing wrong” you whisper to him. He huffs before turning his attention to Carlisle, who begins to address the pack.

“Welcome, Jasper has experience with the newborns, and will teach us how to defeat them.”

Paul nods slightly beside you.

“They want to know how the newborns differ from us” Edward says as he reads the packs’ minds, Paul had told you about the gifts they possessed on your way to the meeting.

“They’re a great deal stronger than us because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months of this life” Carlisle explains. You shudder at this thought, fearful for your friends and Paul. As if sensing this he leans towards you, and your body relaxes with the contact.

Jasper steps forward, and addresses the pack. “A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. But no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are; first, never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. The second, never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that, and you will lose.”

The Cullens begin to demonstrate fighting, as Jasper narrates, advising the pack on what to do, or what not to do in some cases.

As the training comes to an end, Jared and Paul head off for patrol, Embry and Quill promising to get you back to Emily’s safely as they wait for you to finish talking to Bella.

“I’m so sorry the pack need to be involved Y/N.” Bella says quietly, an apologetic look on her face.

“The threat is a risk to everyone, including the reservation, they would help whether you ask them to or not, it’s just what they’re like.” You say with a smile as you watch Embry and Quil practise some techniques with Jasper.

“Y/N” Edward joins Bella, an arm quickly wrapped around her, pulling her close to his side.

“Edward, nice to see you again.” You were briefly lab partners a couple of years ago and you always appreciated how little he talked, no awkward small talk, unlike some of your peers. Little did you know that he also appreciated working with you, your mind was never filled with the inane gossip of your classmates.

“I don’t know if Paul has told you, but I can...hear people’s thoughts. I didn’t want to alarm you but I need to talk to you about something you thought about when you first got here” you nodded slowly, trying to remember what you had thought about.

“Erm...ok? I can’t remember what it was though?”

“It was when you were looking at Emmett, you thought he showed some similarity to some family members?” He motions for Emmett to join them.

“I’ve always thought it, but dismissed it before as it was ridiculous. He looks exactly like my dad and my grandpa, I’m sure my grandma has some photos of my grandpa when he was younger in one of her photo albums and he looks identical”.

Emmett appears at Edward’s side just as you finish talking. He frowns slightly and then asks; “where are your family from Y/N?”

“Erm...well my dad was born here in Forks but my grandpa was from Tennessee...Gatlinburg I think my grandma said.”

Emmett’s eyebrows dart up in shock and shortly after Edward’s expression changes to shocked too. Emmett walks closer, not worrying about the distracted wolves.

“What was your grandpa’s name Y/N?”

“Ernest Y/L/N”

Emmett smiles a big smile, and turns to Edward, then motions for Rosalie to join them. He squeezes Rosalie’s hand, excitement showing on his face.

“Y/N, I think your grandpa was my nephew. My older sister Mary was his mother, Mary Y/L/N. That makes me your great-great uncle!”

You laugh at this, moving forward to hug Emmett, he picks you up, wrapping his large arms around you. This draws attention from Embry and Quil, who quickly realised that Paul would destroy them if anything happened to you. They move forward quickly, as if they are going to attack before Edward steps in front of you and Emmett trying to explain.

“They’ve just discovered they’re related, it’s a hug! He isn’t attacking her.”

The wolves look at each other, then back at you as Emmett sets you back on the ground.

“I’m fine guys, just happy!”

You turn your attention back to Emmett as he speaks again, “when I died I worried about my family a lot, I was the only son, I was strong and provided for them when my dad got too old. I left them some money, but after we moved away I never found out what happened. Now I know!”

You smile at this. “My grandpa always used to tell us stories about his uncle when we were younger, he was wild, he used to say, really strong, and an amazing hunter. He said they were all devastated when you were eaten by a bear...”

Emmett looks sad at this.

“Were they ok though, how did Ernest end up here?”

“I’m not really sure, but my grandpa owned a hunting shop just outside of Forks, they were comfortable I think. My dad is a lawyer, based out of Seattle during the week, then he comes home to Forks at the weekends. My grandpa saved up to put dad through school, he was so proud of him.”

A smile returns to Emmett’s face, as he thinks about his nephew, hard working like him, providing for his family.

Rosalie walks over and wraps an arm around his waist. “So all these years of wondering, wanting to go back to Tennessee to try and find them and you’ve found your family in Forks?”

“Looks like it babe!” He ruffles your hair as he speaks and you try to swat his arm away.

“I’m so happy to meet you Y/N, I’ve spent years wondering, and now I know.” You smile at your great-great uncle, wishing you could tell your family. Edward heard this and walks to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You are welcome to our house anytime, you’re part of the family now...with...er...wolf bodyguards of course” he adds as he glances to the wolves growling behind you.

You laugh as you look at the wolves, then back at the Cullens. I’m so lucky to have found so many people to call family.

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle

[randomnameless]

I write and write and make comparisons between a swimsuit and themes like tolerance and freedom,

But in this fandom, some people draw more dubious comparisons, especially ones regarding a certain game - and I warned (who?) at the beginning of the FE16 trend that while it wanted to have a Jugdral flair, it obviously failed. You have a sprinkle of Jugdral in FE16, but it’s only a surface image, or even a mirage.

“CrEsT SyStEM”? Holy Blood? No, those comparisons at least were made in good faith and had some merits.

One of the worst comparisons was noted by several friends, a certain someone, wanting to push a certain ship involving a certain character, managed to write :

“Every route makes one villain from Genealogy of the Holy War the hero, Edelgard being Arvis, Dimitri being Eldigan, Claude being Travant and Rhea being Manfroy”

:(

This will not be a post about Manfroy’s hips, you are warned

Who is Eldigan (Eldie)?

A man who is the carrier of Hezul’s holy blood, Hezul being the founder of Augstria, a sovereign state. Everyone loves Eldie, he is good-looking, strong, kind, chivalrous and has the magic blood that makes him able to use his magic sword.

Is he the King of Agustria? No.

The King is a man named Chagall, who has an ugly sprite, doesn’t have Hezul’s magic blood and cannot use the magic sword. He also killed his father, and is really jealous of Eldie.

However, Eldie’s line (House Nodion) has sworn to support the royal line of Augustria (Chagall’s), so even if everyone wants Eldie to ascend to the throne, he will never accept it. Even if Chagall pisses on him, or imprisons him because he felt like it, Eldie will not rebel against his King. Eldie is seen as a Camus, because he will fight and die for Chagall, and his country, when Sigurd is... more or less attacking Chagall (because Sigurd’s forces are occupying Augstria and Sigurd’s orders are to bring peace to the land, Chagall doesn’t want peace and wants to fight to retake his throne). If everything ends well, Eldie will promise Sigurd he will try to talk one last time his king, try to convince him to accept a ceasefire and peace with Granvalle - but Chagall is an ass and beheads Eldie.

Dimitri... isn’t like Eldigan, at all. First of all, Dimitri is supposed to be the crown Prince, instead of being a mere knight sworn to serve the royal family. Secondly, Dimitri doesn’t die because his liege beheads him - Edelgard will never be his liege - he dies either by defending his borders against someone who is bringing war to his lands and wants his head, or he dies because he pursues Edelgard in a three way battle in Gronder.

We do not know what Rufus is like to his nephew, but I am pretty sure he is no Chagall.

The only common points Eldie and Dimitri have is their blond hair, and sometimes, their manner of death. there is also something about bonds with their sisters but we’re not here for that

Who is Travant?

Travant is the King of the Thracian Kingdom, a proto Nohr-like place, where farming is difficult, and the people living there are starving and often turn to banditry or become mercenaries to be able to earn some money.

Thracia’s neighbour, the Manster District (Manster) could export food to Thracia... but they do not, because, well, the people in charge of the Manster District do not like Thracians a lot (and use slurs to talk about them, but Quan is a special character). So Thracians raid the border, with hopes to reunite the peninsula, with the dream that, one day, they will seize the arable lands in the North.

Travant has an infamous line, which more or less went like “I will unite the peninsula for the sake of my people, and if that process dooms me to hell then so be it”.

And to hell he will go, because by Jugdral standards, ambushing Quan and his family in a desert (horses cannot move in sand, another example of gameplay and story integration!) with horseslayers, is despicable, especially since he leaves no one alive, even, apparently, killing Quan’s young daughter Altena.

(Travant ranks pretty high in the douchebag ladder).

With time, Altena grows, unaware that Travant, who adopted her, isn’t her real Father, Quan was. Things happen, Altena discovers the truth, and Travant finally achieves his dream by making a suicidal charge against Seliph’s forces (he doesn’t even bring his magic lance to the fight!), with him dead, finally, the peninsula can be united under one leader.

Claude? Also has a wyvern. And comes from another land than our hero (but which one?). And... that’s all.

If Almyra raids every sunday, it is not because they are starving, but because they are doing it, per Cyril, for funsies. Claude pretends to be a schemer and underhanded, but he never does something on the scale of the Yied Ambush (the moment where Travant pulled out the horseslayers against Quan). Claude never takes a child hostage, and never orders his daughter to punish civilians.

If Claude wants to unite the two countries, it is not because he wants his people to finally leave their life as mercenaries and bandits behind, but because he wants people to understand each other.

Edit because I’m sleeping : Travant will die for his dream. Claude... always survive. Always. I am not saying he doesn’t believe in it, but he is not as desperate as Travant is.

Comparing Claude to Travant is like comparing... Virion to Iago. They are both male with long hair, and pretend to scheme. Bar that? Well... they both have hands...? I guess?

Who is Manfroy?

Manfroy is... both a mastermind and a plothole.

Manfroy was the one in the shadows engineering a war in Jugdral, not because he likes wars, nope, but because he wanted political instability to recreate the Loptyr Empire.

He will help a douchebag to conquer the world, and use him to sire Julius, the only person in Jugdral who can become a host for the dark dragon Loptyr. The last time Loptyr was there... well, apparently it wasn’t roses and sunshines, slavery was rampant and citizens were pitted against each other to make sure the strongest ones would become citizens of the Empire.

Why Manfroy does this? It depends on the sources, but it is heavily implied Manfroy is part of a sect (sect as in group of people practicing a religion, here the Loptyr religion/cult) persecuted by a lot of people in Jugdral - to the point where Agustrians were having witches hunts to chase them. Manfroy and his followers escaped the the Yied desert, touted to be an inhospitable land. His people had no where and no one to turn to, so they prayed to their God Loptyr (who doesn’t give 3 figs about them).

Manfroy is thus the Archbishop of the Loptyr Church. He also killed his son in law, for some reason, and planned to turn his granddaughter in a zombie. Manfroy also supports (and conducts?) the child hunts, basically the plot in the second part of FE4 and FE5 where the Granvalle Empire and the members of the Loptyr Church round up children, take them from their families (sometimes by killing said families) to send them to Granvalle, with the highly suggested goal of sacrificing them one way or another to Loptyr.

On the not-so bright side, Manfroy doesn’t kill Julia - when Loptyr/Julius expressly asking him to do so, because Julia is the only person, story-wise, able to kill him.

What a guy! 

Now, Rhea?

There are some comparisons to be made, unlike Claude and Dimitri, but again, it reinforces how they could be seen as foils.

Rhea? Yes, also engineers the birth of a vessel.

However, unlike Manfroy who “forced” Arvis and Deirdre to marry and have a baby, Byleth’s birth, born from the union of Jeralt and Sitri, was completely unexpected. There is no trace in canon of Rhea arranging Jeralt and Sitri’s meeting, and future wedding.

Rhea? Also wants her granddaughter to “die”?

Well, not this one, since Rhea thinks Billy is actually an amnesiac Sothis. Billy would just recover their memories.

Rhea? Doesn’t start a war to build her Sothis vessel. Hell, the DLC is about her previous experiment to resurrect her mother - it was a failure, but someone supposes she fails because she did not want to bleed dry the Four Apostles. Rhea wishes to resurrect a benevolent Goddess (when Manfroy knows Loptyr is... far from benevolent) but will not kill to do so.

Sitri? Asked her to save Billy, by offering her own life.

The most interesting foil though is... how Rhea and Manfroy both belong to a community that was persecuted by others, the people they are supposed to live with.

Manfroy? Went the “if the world hates me, then I will hate it and burn it down” route.

Rhea? Doesn’t want to kill humans, hell, she and her brother disagreed because she didn’t want to kill children of the people who wronged her! She opens a monastery and offers guidance to anyone who needs it, a shelter for the needy and tries her best to protect peace and the humans living under her care.

They could have followed the same path, but didn’t. Manfroy rounds children to kill them, Rhea offers a new home to children who lost theirs.

They can also be compared with their “welp” points, Rhea gave CF!Billy the means to destroy her, just like Manfroy “forgot” to kill Julia - and yet, again, it is different. Rhea trusted Billy and never wanted to use them as a tool, in the other routes, it is because she trusted Billy with “those means” that Billy is able to save the world. Manfroy? Berserks Julia, wishes to use her as a tool and suffers when she regains some agency and beats her brother. But even without Manfroy, Julia would have recovered the Book of Naga to end Loptyr.

Rhea and Manfroy are definitely not parallels, but foils.

And the best for the end...

Who is Arvis?

Well... to summarise Arvis in a few words...

it’s impossible.

So, Arvis is the descendant of one Jugdral’s God-Crusader, Fjalar. Arvis is very proud of his heritage, but he also bears Loptyr blood, through his Mother. And yet, since the Loptry blood exists thanks to Saint Maira - the brother of the Loptry Host of that time, Emperor Galle, who rebelled and helped the Crusaders - he is also very proud of this heritage and his two brands.

Arvis’s familial history is a mess, his father was a womanizer and his mother abandoned him (which might have fueled his Freudian complex?). When his Father died, he exiled all of his bastard siblings, bar Azelle (his bastard half-brother, sired to his mother’s favorite maid). Arvis apparently wasn’t interested in women before he met Deirdre and fell in love with her...

But he had time to sire a bastard (on his best friend and confidante).

Arvis wants to build a world free of prejudice and oppression, and wants to build it by... associating with Manfroy, who blackmails him about his Loptyr blood (if Arvis is proud of his Loptry blood, sadly the Agustrian witch hunts are still a thing, and it will not be well seen in Granvalle’s nobility); however, he made it clear, to Manfroy himself, that he will never allow another Loptry Empire to be reborn. Arvis thus uses hiw fellow Dukes Reptor and Langobalt to set up a coup against Prince Kurth (the Prince of Granvalle) to kill him. Arvis grows close to Kurth’s father, Azmur and more or lesses takes care of everything in Granvalle, since Kurth has no heir left.

And, by chance, Deirdre, Kurth’s bastard daughter, thus rightful Princess of Granvalle, appears at his door. She bears the mark of Naga (the special blood of the Crusader Heim), so they marry, and if they have a son, their son will rule over Granvalle, Arvis acts as a regent until then.

(women can’t rule shit in Jugdral)

Then what? His plan is set into motion, all Granvalle Dukes die, he and Sigurd (plus his pals) are the only ones left, Sigurd dies after being lured to a welcoming party, and Arvis becomes the last man standing able to rule Granvalle, who became, through his plans and treacheries through the 1st gen, an Empire.

(and then his son becomes a Loptyr host, vaporises his mom and makes his sister disappear, wrestles power from him and he is reduced to a sad state (oldvis). He makes a last stand against Seliph, after delivering him Sigurd’s magic sword, and dies.)

Okay.

So, now, Edel.

Arvis managed to become the ruling... person in Granvalle by eliminating all of his rivals, and securing a nice marriage. Edel becomes Emperor... because Ionius gave her his crown, as her father.

So they do not rise to power the same way.

Edel never talks about her brands, but Arvis is proud to bear them and proud of his ancestors. Judging by how Edel speaks of Wilhelm I as a traitor who sold humanity to creatures, I am not sure she is proud to bear his blood.

Also, while Edelgard is extremely prejudiced against Nabateans, Arvis wishes to create a world... free of prejudice (his actions though...). He does not mind Manfroy preaching his stuff, when Edelgard will not allow anyone to follow the Seiros faith (friends put it better, but in several routes, the people who were followers of the Church of Seiros are missing in Adrestia...).

While both Edel and Arvis think they are making “sacrifices” for the greater good, as pointed out earlier, this greater good is different. They both ally with a death cult, but Arvis is naive enough to think Manfroy will not backstab him - he even wishes for him to preach his nonsense freely. Edelgard has been hell bent since day 1 on getting rid of Thales and friends.

By the time Arvis learns of the child hunts and Julius’s nonsense... he wants to stop it. He is however powerless to do so (or so we think! Apparently he and Ishtar managed to hide every children captured in a castle!) but, at least, he tried to do something.

Crest Beasts... are still used, no matter the path, and even after Edelgard became Emperor.

Now, if Manfroy had to capture children and round them up for execution to make sure Arvis would become Emperor, would Arvis have supported him? I... don’t think so. If children were captured during Arvis’s conquest of the world and it was a “necessary evil”, would Arvis have accepted it? We don’t know. Prideful as he is, I don’t think he would have agreed.

(which is all kinds of wrong, the man can start wars and backstab friends, allies and turn his own brother to ashes, but hunting children is too much? Meh. And yet, Manfroy mentions something about his ways and his pride being an obstacle to the realisation of his dream).

Arvis is... a complicated character. A douchebag through and through, who tries to redeem himself at the end, but ultimately fails. He is rewarded for his actions in the 1st gen by the 2nd gen, where Julius becomes Loptyr and destroys his Empire. He had it coming? Yes. Is it painful to watch? Yes.

Edelgard... does not face any retribution for her actions.

Yes, she can also kill her (step) brother. But either she didn’t remember it, or only cries after it, and ultimately puts the blame on him - so it is not a sacrifice ?

People doubt her words? Well, it doesn’t matter, Linhardt, Yuri and Lysithea are still alive after their... interrogations. Reptor doubted Arvis’s words? Aida was sent as back-up (and... backstabbed him).

Ultimately, Arvis loses Deirdre (whose ghost chills with Sigurd’s), Julia and Julius, whom he loved dearly. Edel loses... Billy, and some randoms.

So, in a way, Edel feels like a discount Arvis, because she misses his ascension to power and his downfall. Arvis doesn’t mow down enemies on the front lines like she is doing, Arvis maneuvers to ensure victory.

Both fight for ideals, but Arvis seems to believe in them when I cannot believe a world for “humanity” involves continuous making of Crest Beasts.

Both betray the main character, but Edelgard is hit with the uwu hammer, thus cannot kill Billy - Thales does it in the non CF-routes.

So... short story, long story, Eldie is not Dimitri, Claude is not Travant, Rhea is a foil to Manfroy and Edelgard is a discount Arvis.

Also, I don’t know what kind of weed the person who wrote this take had, but labeling Eldie as one of FE4′s villain is as dumb as labeling FE7 Karla a villain because she appears as a red unit you have to fight.

where is edel’s bastard son

[innerchorus]

I couldn't stop thinking about my ArSen AUs and OCs and such and I currently have nobody to talk to about them so I've come to bother you about it! I apologize! You can ignore this ask if you wish to!

Kazai actually likes Narsus's art! Daryun disapproves. In the first AU they meet when Kazai and his clan are trying to run away from Pars with an eleven-year-old Arslan in tow— Arslan is Kazai's nephew and Kashi, Kazai's elder sister, was Arslan's birth mother— but in the second AU where Arslan doesn't become a Prince because Andragoras found another unfortunate infant, Kazai and Narsus only meet several months after the whole Ecbatana debacle.

Shapur's fate in the first AU is a bit up in the air since I don't know how to convince him to ditch Pars and accompany Kazai's clan to their long lost homeland and he'd die if he stayed. But in the second AU he lives, thanks to the tools and tricks he picked up from Kazai. (Let's just say… as a mage and a “mercenary” and the general sort who dwells in the shadows Kazai does not fight fair.)

The Marda clan does not believe blood is the end all be all for forming a family. If you want blood offspring, great, you do you, but inspired by their god-who-they-say-is-not-a-god Araya they honor, they have adopted a sort of “finders-keepers” mentality in regards of acquiring a child. They also firmly believe that children are precious and must be treasured, and parents and nurturers are respected in their clan. Which is why they will often “kidnap” a neglected or abused or abandoned child. It is not only Kazai who does it, but also many of the adults of the clan. Kashi took in a young Gieve whose own family died from a disaster— Ayunnen (Kashi's husband and Arslan's father) would have taken Isfan in if Shapur hadn't arrived and passed Ayunnen's “test”.

The Marda pride themselves on being able to create and/or nurture things, and a wedding tradition of theirs is that the marrying couple display what their creations they're proud of, whether it be embroidery or woodwork or crops or art or anything at all. They also plant a tree together as part of the ceremony.

Daryun and Narsus, who became part of the clan in the first timeline, marry some time after arriving at the ancient homeland of the Marda, after their rebuilding has made good progress. Narsus of course displays his ✨Artworks™✨. Daryun is not amused but Kazai is very pleased. After all, Kazai is— in Daryun's very exasperated words— “an enabling piece of turd”. (I still have not decided what Daryun could display though ahahaha…)

In the second timeline, Kazai and Shapur would marry— though only under the Arayan faith and not the Parsian since I'm pretty sure same-gender marriages didn't happen in Pars? Kazai is good at embroidery and painting and calligraphy and spell-array drawing (which could be considered a combination of art and calligraphy and magecraft I suppose), and I headcanon that Shapur might pick up some craft so that he can honor the Mardal tradition but again I have no idea what he'd actually learn, or if he had a crafting hobby from the start. Whoops!

For all that he is a force of chaos who don't give no shits about rules, for all that he can be seen as dishonorable or even cowardly due to his admittedly underhanded methods, Kazai is defined by the people he protects and loves. He is willing to compromise his morals and principles if it means the remnants of his clan can survive and be safe. Honor is for the strong. The weak simply survive.

Shapur and Kazai in the second timeline had a rough start, what with Kazai having zero trust in Shapur and Shapur feeling baffled and irritated in general bc Kazai is Like That™, but they come to make things work out between them (smol Arslan helped with that, but that's a topic for another time). Shapur has thought, on more than one occasion, that courting Shapur is like trying to tame a starving and injured feral cat who doesn't trust humans.

That's all for now! I apologize for dumping this in your askbox, but I really didn't have anyone I could dump this all on and I'm too shy to just directly make posts about it since I don't have actual fic and artwork to display for it (except an unfinished fic I had deemed unsatisfactory and is in the process of being rewritten)… I hope you have a fantastic day!

Ahh I'm really late to respond to his message but I have to share it here because this is some go౦ԁ sHit👌 and you should be proud of your worldbuilding! ...also I'm just sat here happily daydreaming about Shapur being married.

[arcturusreads]

Christmas Whiskey Part Two - Merhayes

@merxmac asked for a part two to this fanfic so I hope this doesn't disappoint. Also, if y'all have prompts please send them my way, my dissertation is killing me and I'd love a distraction

Cormac wasn’t surprised when he got home on Christmas Eve to find his boys still awake playing video games and Irene in the kitchen prepping the turkey. He’d managed to draw the boys’ attention from their game long enough to propose the idea of dropping in on Meredith and her family during their walk.

He wasn’t at all surprised at Irene’s eagerness to the suggestion. His sister-in-law had been wanting to meet Meredith since her own visit to the hospital. Once she’d found out that the General Surgeon was out of her coma and back on her feet, she’d kept asking Cormac when they could meet. So far, he had managed to put her off by saying that Meredith was still recovering and that everyone’s schedules at the hospital were still crazy as they came out of the peak of the pandemic. What Cormac had been surprised at was how easily the boys agreed to it, Austin even saying that he was looking forward to it.

***

Christmas morning had passed. By the times the boys had woken up, it was more like afternoon. They’d opened presents, lit a candle for Abigail and the boys messed around with their presents, which included a new set of goalposts in the garden that were a bit studier than the ones that Cormac had put-up when they had first moved there, and a drone. Cormac and Irene spent most of their time in the kitchen sorting out Christmas dinner. Afterwards, they’d all sprawled out around the living room, half comatose, wondering why they decided that a second helping was a good idea.

It was 5pm by the time the four of them had managed to haul themselves out of their seats and change out of their pyjamas. As he shrugged on his jacket, Cormac couldn’t help but feel slightly jittery at the thought of seeing Meredith today. He had texted her that morning to wish her a merry Christmas and ask if they should bring anything over to hers. She’d said that there was no need, they had enough food to last them until the end of January but said she was looking forward to seeing him.

“Mac, you ready?” Irene nudged him with her elbow. “What are you smiling about?” She teased.

Cormac hadn’t even realised that he had been smiling in the first place and quickly replaced his expression with a more neutral one.

“Probably thinking about Dr Grey again,” Liam joined in on the teasing as Austin made kissy faces behind his brother.

“You know it’s not too late for me to take those drones back.” Cormac threw an arm over each of his sons’ shoulders and began walking towards the door.

***

There was a large park that happened to be smack in the middle of the route between Cormac Meredith’s houses. After taking a long walk around it and having a kick about with the football the boys had bought with them. They began to make their way to Meredith’s.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have brought anything with us?” Irene asked him for the 20th time as Meredith’s home came into view.

“We’re bringing Da, I’m sure that will be more than enough.”

Cormac groaned, a red flush crawling up his neck. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his family. “Can I trust you all to behave when we go in there?” He was praying that they wouldn’t make any comments in front of Meredith, or he would be mortified.

“I’ll have you know that me and my nephews are the best-behaved people you know.” The smirk on their three faces told him otherwise and he shook his head and he began walking again.

“Heathens, the lot of you. Don’t know why I put up with it.”

He was responded to with snickers and rolled his eyes. As the Hayes family walked up to Meredith’s door, Cormac cursed at the butterflies in his stomach. Damnit, he was a grown man with two teenagers. He should be past this stage of feeling nervous about seeing a woman. It wasn’t like this was a date. She’d invited him over as a friend, their kids were going to be there.

Cormac continued trying to convince himself of this as he knocked the door. It didn’t work though because the moment Meredith opened the door to his family an entire zoo erupted in his stomach. She wasn’t dressed up to the nines, in matching white loungewear and hair half pulled up but it was the flush on her cheeks that caused a wave of feeling to wash over Cormac. The grin on her face, the glint in her eyes and the ease of her shoulders. She was radiant.

“Hey, sorry it took a while to get to the door. We’re used to people just walking in and out. Come in!” She ushered, Cormac, his boys and Irene into her home.

Before Cormac was able to say anything, Irene stepped forward with a grin on her face. “Meredith, I have to say it’s nice to finally meet the woman behind the name. I’m Irene, Mac’s sister-in-law.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Irene. Sorry we couldn’t meet sooner.”

Irene waved off the apology, “I hear you were a bit tied up, so no worries. Thank you so much for inviting us to your home.”

“I have an open-door policy at this house, you guys are always free to drop in if you need anything. Most people do. Austin, Liam, feel free to hang your coats up. You guys have a good Christmas?””

Mer turned to the boys who were slightly surprised that she had managed to identify them both correctly. They’d only met two or three times and they hadn’t even expected the surgeon to have paid much attention to them.

The boys nodded and launched into how their Christmas had gone so far. Cormac couldn’t believe with how much ease and comfort the boys spoke to Meredith. Sometimes he found it hard to get two words out of them when he got home from work.

Meredith began to herd the four of them into the living room where everyone else was lounging around. Cormac realised he hadn’t actually said anything to Meredith since he had gotten there, he reached out and gently grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards him.

“Hey?” Meredith looked at him, slightly confused.

Cormac quickly let go of her arm, “Uh, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Just wanted to say Merry Christmas.”

“The same thing you text me this morning?” Meredith teased, arching a brow. “Merry Christmas to you too, Hayes” She grinned at him, seeing him slightly bashful was a new thing. Cormac was usually a lot surer of himself.

“Come on, let’s head in.”

Meredith found that there was no need to make any introductions to the kids. Austin and Liam and sat on the floor with them, which was covered with blankets and cushions. Liam had started to chat with Zola and Bailey whilst Austin was taking a keen interest as Ellis showed him what she had gotten for Christmas.

As Cormac said hello to the other surgeons in the room, Meredith headed into the kitchen and began to heat the milk to make the hot chocolate. Whilst she was never going to be the next MasterChef, hot chocolate was one thing that she could manage.

Stirring the pan of milk, Meredith looked out onto the living room. Seeing the way both Cormac and Irene had settled into conversation with everyone else. Seeing both her and Cormac’s kids getting along so easily. A feeling passed over her that she had not felt in a very long time. Not since Derek had been alive.

She’d always felt at home here, a sense of belonging but now there was a feeling of completion within her. There was nothing missing, her heart didn’t feel as though it was yearning for anything. It was like something had just clicked into place.

“Can I help you out?”

Meredith had even seen Irene approach her, “You’re our guest! Go and relax.”

“You wouldn’t let us bring anything, the least I can do is help you with the hot chocolate. Where can I find the mugs?”

Knowing that Irene wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Meredith directed her towards mugs. “They’re in the cupboard to the left of the sink.”

“You know, I haven’t seen Mac like this since before my sister died,” Irene placed all the mugs on the counter next to the stove and began to spoon the cocoa powder in there. “When he first moved back to the states, I was excited to have him and the boys here but he wasn’t himself. Not that I was expecting him to be after everything he’s been through.”

Irene sighed, placed the spoon on the counter and turned to face Meredith. “Ever since he told me that you were awake again and leaving the hospital, there’s more light in his eyes. He’s more playful, like he was before. His tread isn’t so heavy anymore.”

“I, uh,” Meredith wasn’t quite sure what to say. She knew that things had changed between her and Cormac, but she didn’t think that any of the changes that Irene had mentioned were down to her. “I mean, work has gotten a lot more manageable lately with the Covid numbers going down so that’s probably helping.”

Chuckling, Irene began to stir the hot chocolate and Meredith poured milk into the mugs. “We both know that isn’t true. My brother-in-law has started to fall hard for you, Meredith. I just don’t want to see him hurt if you don’t feel the same way but from the way you’ve been looking at him, I’m going to guess that you do.”

With that she picked up two mugs and walked into the living room with them. Meredith stood, mouth agape as she watched Irene walk away. Her own sisters had only danced around the topic about Cormac and her, teasing her and making the odd comment when they were seen together. They definitely had not been as forthright as Irene had just been with her.

“Momma! Hot cocoa time!” Ellis’ voiced pulled Meredith out of her thoughts as she took as many mugs as she could carry into the living room.

Eventually there were only two mugs left and as Meredith made her last trip from the kitchen, there was only one person, other than herself left without a mug.

“Hot chocolate?” Meredith offered the mug to Cormac who took it gratefully, their finger brushing against each other.

“Thanks, Grey.”

Looking around for a place to sit, Meredith found that the only place left was next to Cormac on the two-seater.

“Do you mind?” She asked, motioning to the seat next to him with her head.

“That you sit on your sofa in your house?” The glint in his eye made simultaneously made Meredith’s stomach flip and made her want to punch him

“I don’t know why I bothered asking…” Meredith muttered under her breath, but Cormac managed to hear and laughed.

From the other side of the room, Irene kept an eye on them the entire night. Now 100% sure that Meredith Grey did feel the same way about Cormac and come hell or high water, she was going to make sure that they both did something about it.

[ohmypreciousgirl]

Xicheng Rec List

I compiled my favorite fics for @waterandsilver after they posted they were finally seeing the appeal of Xicheng. I volunteered to give them good fics to help them understand better the appeal of our ship! So, here we go!

Post-Canon Fics

A Bit of Ruthlessness 110,111 When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proven time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.

Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.

Moments of Clarity 5,201 Snapshots of Lan Huan's road to recovery with a helping hand from Sandu Shengshou. Companion piece from Jiang Cheng’s POV: A Present so Promising 

Faith 8,109 [Part 1 of the The Provenance of Hope series] Lan Huan isn’t sure he’s ready for this. (or, Lan Huan and Jiang Cheng meet on a night hunt.)

Visiting Cloud Recesses 7,566 [Part 1 of the Visiting Cloud Recesses series]   Since the sunshot campaign they haven't interacted a lot outside of sect business, but Jiang Cheng has always found the First Jade of Lan gracious and pleasant to be around. Especially in comparison to his younger brother, who would never smile at Jiang Cheng the way Lan Xichen is right now, as if he's genuinely happy to see him.

It's easier to let go (let me hold you) 24,464 Five times someone noticed something was wrong and the one time someone did something about it.

Carried on the wind 1,129 [Part 1 of the The courtship of Jiang Wanyin & Lan Xichen series] Lan Xichen’s voice is very soft when he says: “Today is the day our mother died.”

Overgrown 1,408 [Part 1 of the Coming home to you series] Jiang Cheng has better things to do than follow Lan Xichen around Lotus Pier, and yet here he is.

Regret 2,290 Lan Xichen is left standing in his garden, his garden of regret and shame and all the bad things Lan Xichen hates about himself, and suddenly he can’t stand it for one second longer.

A lovely name 3,146 [Part 1 of the Paws for thought series] Jiang Cheng doesn’t like the feeling of a curse sinking through his skin at the best of times, and now he’s a fucking cat, because Wei Wuxian thinks he’s hilarious. Well, he won’t find it so hilarious when Jiang Cheng changes back and breaks his legs.

Breaking Anew 20,389 There are different ways a person can break. It is a lesson Jiang Cheng will spend his life learning.

Under The Morning Sun  22,739 Jiang Cheng returns to Cloud Recesses to find peace and stability. Instead, he finds an unexpected romance with Lan Xichen. Sequel: Strength of Your Love 

(nothing special) (something special) 4,950 Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen both have jagged edges. But perhaps their broken pieces can fit together into something new. Sequel: won't you say you love me later

Come to Decide 2,381 [Part 1 of the Little Talks series] “This is why I lose sleep over you,” Jiang Cheng murmured. “You might think I’m pining for your touch or your voice or your gaze, but no - I’m just worrying about you being an idiot.”

Don't stop being rude 2,582 “The Hanshi,” Lan Jingyi suddenly says, effectively jolting Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts, and bowing again. 

“Please talk some sense into Zewu-Jun.”

“Oh, that I will,” Jiang Cheng promises and when a tiny spark of fear enters Lan Jingyi’s eyes, he gives him his sweetest smile before he walks off.

“Oh gods, what have I done,” he hears Lan Jingyi mutter behind him, but he doesn’t try to stop him.

Clever boy.

Don't let him win 1,685 “What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asks him, voice much softer now, and he’s quick to carefully rub some warmth back into Lan Xichen’s hands.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Xichen whispers, the same thing he always says when Jiang Cheng forces his way into Lan Xichen’s seclusion, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t give less of a fuck about this.

“Well, neither should you,” he gives back, a well-rehearsed dance by now, and Lan Xichen’s mouth twists in that all too familiar way.

Good things about Yunmeng 3,343 Or, the one where Jiang Cheng attempts the impossible.

Love Is For Other People 3,704 It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng never thought about it. About love, that was.

Listless 1,787 When Jiang Cheng came up with his list, he knew that everyone else's would be different from his. It just hurts to find out again and again that he would never be the first.

And then there's Xichen.

twinkle of a bell 7,821 Jiang Cheng and Lan Huan meet at the abandoned village, looking for at least a glimpse of a new life.

Tread 1,647 “I’m going to take him with me,” Jiang Cheng says and even though Lan Xichen can’t see them, he can feel the tension in the air.

“No,” comes Wangji’s almost immediate answer, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Not that it ever stopped Jiang Cheng before.

these tears flowing down aren't a waste 2,002 “How do I confess my love to someone?” Jin Ling asks.

“Do I look like someone who has been in love?” Jiang Cheng questions back.

Through a Storm that Never Goes Away 32,948 For all of that, for his inherent complicitness in Jin Guangyao’s crimes, for trying to maintain impartiality until he had enough evidence, Lan Xichen could understand wanting him dead.

He could even understand if there were those who still felt the need to take some revenge for what Jin Guangyao did and were dissatisfied that he was dead. Lan Xichen might look like an acceptable target.

But to target Wangji as well...

I am cursed to love you (to the grave) 39,410 Jiang Cheng can't sleep.

The Comfort of You 24,904 [Part 1 of the The Belonging series] On the eve of Jin Ling's 20th birthday, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen take a step forward into a life that will forever be changed.

(Three years after the events of Guanyin Temple Lan Xichen asks a pivotal question of the man he's been falling in love with for the past year. Jiang Cheng has never really felt what he feels for Lan Xichen and falls apart in his hands. And that's okay.)

I Put You First 7,178 Lan Xichen gets a little jealous when the Other Boys thirst over Sect Leader Jiang. Luckily, Jiang Cheng only has eyes for one man.

Canon Era Fics

A Small Measure of Peace 122,790 With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.

There's Hope for the Hopeless 11,791 Part of being Sect Leader means going to weddings, both those important to him and those that he is convinced to attend.

5 times Jiang Cheng went to a wedding + his own.

A good night's rest 1,795 [Part 1 of the Sing for me series] Jiang Cheng is standing at the end of the pier, clad in simple sleeping robes, and he’s walking up and down, bouncing a sniffling Jin Ling on his arm. And he is singing to the boy, his voice soft and low, but clear enough to ring out over the water and carry.

Lan Xichen stops dead in his tracks and keeps still, not wanting to disturb Jiang Cheng or upset Jin Ling again. The boy is clearly fighting sleep, but the steady movement of Jiang Cheng and his lullaby are doing wonders in dragging him to sleep anyway.

Beside You 6,624 [Part 1 of the Lan Furen series]

Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier behind him, giving up his position, his family and his home to start a new life as a rogue cultivator. He can't quite make himself leave Yunmeng completely though, not just yet, and as he loiters on the outskirts he comes across Lan Xichen, evidently on the run.

Together, they fret for themselves, their loved ones and each other as the Wens and impending danger draws closer.

The Desperate Search Began 2,361 [Part 1 of the Some Day I'm Gonna Make You Mine series] It starts with a fight, Jin Zixun and Jiang Wanyin bumping heads over a battle plan. The Sunshot campaign will not slow for one brush of ego, but Jin Zixun has found himself outranked by a boy that he feels of no consequence compared to a member of the shining Jin sect.

When Nie Mingjue is present, or even Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun keeps his counsel. He does not push. Sadly, the bruise to his ego will not appear to have forgotten that while he is a valued member of their war council, Jiang Wanyin is a sect leader now. The fact that he’s a boy younger than even Jin Zixuan, rankles.

Add that they are only witnessed by Lan Xichen and Jin Zixun becomes a discredit to Lanling Jin.

remember these words i say 4,133 “Please, allow me to fix this.” Lan Xichen finds himself asking, begging. It is for his own peace of mind, but it is also for Jiang Cheng and for Jin Ling, for the people of Lotus Pier who have watched their home burn and fought hard to build it back.

“I do not know how you could.” Jiang Cheng points out.

Lan Xichen nods in agreement. “I do not know either, now, but –” Wangji isn’t the only stubborn one in the family, “I will find a way.” He promises, determined.

fill the cracks in (with your light) 2,947 [Part 1 of the moments through the years series] Lan Xichen's voice doesn't have the usual light note in it when he asks, “What are we doing, Jiang Wanyin?”

Waxing Moon 1,925 [Part 1 of Soft] After Wei Wuxian was sent home from Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng realizes it's pretty lonely without him. Luckily, sulking on a rooftop leads to a new friendship.

Tipsy at best 2,458 Jiang Cheng tugs Nie Huaisang along, and they are stumbling more than walking, but in their inebriated state even that is funny.

They are snickering still when they suddenly see a figure in white appear at the end of the path.

“Uh-oh,” Jiang Cheng says, and it’s entirely too loud, but he’s still too drunk to care about that right now.

Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, seems to have sobered up, because his eyes take on a calculating glint behind his fan.

“Say, Jiang Cheng, what were your requirements for a partner again?” Nie Huaisang asks and it’s enough to make Jiang Cheng stop.

it all passes someday 13,638 A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

Punishment 5,415 [Part 1 of the The Rules of Living series] “33 lashes,” one of the Elders suddenly coldly says and Lan Xichen’s stomach turns over. “20 for his brother and 13 for daring to defy us,” he goes on and Lan Xichen bows his head in acceptance.

The same punishment Lan Wangji endured. Lan Xichen can do it, too.

And he manages, without a sound, like Lan Wangji, if only just barely.

[fanficlibraryposts]

MDZS/The Untamed Fic Recs

Flag Flying High by Araceil

 The final lines were.... the only clear instructions given to him. It seemed as though Mo Xuan-Yu was seized with sudden ferocious clarity and drive – a single demand for the Yiling Patriarch: Whatever he was to do in revenge to the Mo Clan, he was to protect Hari above all. The child was not to be harmed.

When his life was not enough to trade for the protection of his friends in the Final Battle, Harry gave up his magic and found himself cursed. Travelling to the Cultivation World was his only chance to survive, to break this curse that drew the resentful dead into his orbit. While there though, he finds himself caught up in the life of the tormented Mo Xuan-Yu and unable to ignore the echoes of himself in the man's pitiful circumstances. But when Harry's curse draws the dead to Mo Village, the Junior cultivators of the Gusu Lan Sect are close behind, and his life takes a dramatic swing in a different direction, towed along in the wake of Mo Xuan-Yu now that he has been freed of his oppressive family, Harry finds himself in the Cloud Recesses, and involved in a whole new mystery that the 'adults' are determined to keep him away from.

*my token Harry Potter crossover fic*

Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell

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

Or

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

*Baby junior Lans*

if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane

 Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. [...] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help.    He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be.    No, that was not him.    He knew who was, though.

(Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

Themes and Variations in F# Major by defractum (nyargles)

The thing with musical prodigies is that they're soloists, and soloists play alone. He doesn't want to play alone anymore.

"A summer guest lecture series? Oh, very nice. I wish I could sit in on that."

"Do you also play the piano?"

"Not even a little bit," says Wei Ying cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'd have a lot of thoughts on musicality that would be relevant regardless."

"Oh," says Lan Zhan. He seems to be searching for something else to say. "I believe it is oversubscribed," he says finally.

"As it should be," says Wei Ying, and does not tell him that he has all of Lan Zhan's albums downloaded onto his phone, listened to over and over when he's on a train, a plane, waiting for a taxi, has followed his career since he overheard half a Mendelssohn when they were fifteen.

补救; to remedy, to do something to correct or improve something that is wrong by ravenditefairylights

Wei Wuxian has missed the sword. He has missed the steady weight of Suibian in his vicinity, has missed being sure of himself without needing to defend his ability in front of a world that stands opposite of him as jury, judge and executioner. Wei Wuxian has risen and fallen and then gotten up every time, fallen deeper still until there was no way for him to get back up. Wei Wuxian has died and he has come back thirteen years too late and the world has moved on without him.

Back to the start—it’s a good place for the beginning.

or the one where Wei Wuxian heals, realizes there are people who love him and people he loves and goes back home

*Some nice post canon fluff and badass WWX*

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller

Wei Wuxian's spirit lingers. 

*Chef’s kiss*

Cradle by Dragonesque

After barely surviving the assassination attempt at QiongQi Path, Wei WuXian and the Wen Sect remnants are left to figure out how to protect themselves and their new lives. Meanwhile, the Jiang siblings and an unharmed Jin ZiXuan try to figure out who's bright idea was that stupid ambush. In Gusu, Lan Wangji panics at the idea of Wei WuXian's near death and tries to figure out whether to insist to stay by the Yiling Patriarch's side or hang back in the Cloud Recesses.

And Wei WuXian struggles with the idea of whether becoming a teacher, teaching demonic cultivation and setting up his own sect might not be a bad idea after all...

Just say yes by edenwolfie

Lan Qiren had never had a student he couldn’t improve, and Wei Wuxian would not be the exception, especially not now that his nephew was in love with the troublemaker. He would not allow history to repeat itself.

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami, Winterstar1412    

"Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened."

Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal.

"You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?"

Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now."

Wei Wuxian starts again from the beginning.

*part one of a brilliant and lengthy series*

SanRen by Kyogre

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.

Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.

However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

*A more proactive Jiang family and an oblivious Wei Wuxian ft. pining Lan Wangji*

New moodboard here !

Disclaimer: The fanfiction above were not written by me for I am not nearly as creative. However, I am an avid reader and movie buff so these are some of my favorite fanfiction within the fandom. I politely ask that you read the tags attached the fanfiction beforehand so that you know what you are getting yourself into, there may be crossovers. If you don’t like it then don’t read it. In addition, I ask that there be no bashing, the fics are based on my preferences and what I like. Lastly, if there are any specific genre or fandom of fics you want me to get into let me know through my ask box.  

[cherryplasmids]

☆ the lives you’ve left behind ☆

pairing: donny donowitz x reader

fandom: inglourious basterds—post-movie sequence

anon request: hi girl! i love your writing and i was wondering if you still write for donny donowitz? if you do i was wondering if you could do an angsty one? that's all i ask, you could take that and run with it however :)

notes: the reader has a kid  — aldo is referred to the reader’s child as ‘uncle’ but that doesn’t mean they are actually related. also, aldo is married to a girl name jenny

— the child is a boy named Alex for filler purposes

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"That's your daddy," You whisper, pulling the tiny bundle of joy closer to your chest. 

The infant, swaddled in a pale yellow blanket decorated with small brown bears, yawns but does not take notice of your words. Instead, Alex twists, stretches his arms out and settles back onto your chest. Without a care in the world, he just relaxes in the warmth that you've given him. An inkling of envy flashes through you—you would do anything to be that carefree again. But the war ruined everything, including your unbridled youthful attitude. 

"Handsome, isn't he?" You question as if the little one will respond. You'd be more scared than anything if he does. You wave the 4x6 photo forward to entice your baby to look. "The most handsome man I've ever seen. Everyone thinks so too, even your uncle Aldo but he won't admit to that.

"But don't worry, baby. You'll be just as handsome and charming as your old man was." 

As if he understands, the boy babbles happily, spit freely spilling over his lips and onto his cheeks. Grabbing a Kleenex from the bedside table, you wipe his face. It doesn't deter him. He continues to express his enjoyment through spit bubbles and random giggling. Your heart swells at the sight—his happiness contagious enough to erase your woes for the night. 

When the sun rises, you'll tell Aldo all about the affection your newborn has been showing. He'll run down the street to coddle his nephew. 

You don't continue until your baby boy calms down enough to the point where spit no longer seeps out of his mouth. By then, sleepiness is taking hold of him. He gives out a deep yawn. One of his tiny hands grips your right thumb while the other curls into a fist and rubs his eyes. A smile quirks at your lips. You take that as a sign to turn in. 

“I’ll tell you about your daddy’s love for baseball tomorrow okay? I’ll even show you his prized baseball cards. but you can’t tell him or he’ll have my head.”

He’s knocked out by the time you lay him down. You pray he’ll sleep through the night, allowing you to earn to some much-needed shut-eye he’s deprived you of for months. After tucking him in, you tuck the photo of Donny under his pillow. You press a gentle kiss on his forehead, whisper a few sweet words to him, and then glide out of the room, leaving the door ajar in case he wails for your attention. You make do with this system until Jenny, Aldo's wife, takes you shopping for a baby monitor. She knows a lot more about baby care than you do.

Sleepiness is taking you hostage too with a yawn escaping your lips every 1-2 minutes but you had housework to complete before the morning arrives. Mostly just clearing out boxes of gifts the Donowitz family had sent from Boston. Some of them were open, others weren’t. Gifts like a microwave or other kitchenware were left in their respective box. You’ll deal with those on a later date. 

There’s one box, though, that remains sealed. You inspect the plain cardboard container and see a word written across one side in neat cursive. But it isn’t the penmanship that has you gasping and dropping the box in shock.

No, it’s the word 'Donny' labeled across the surface that does.

It takes a moment or two for you to shake off the shock and another to get down to the ground. Sitting cross-legged, you stare at the box as if something will pop out and yell “surprise”—a harmful prank that will send you wailing for something you no longer had.

The knife seamlessly glides across the tape and you wonder when you reached for a knife in the first place. Your body is moving on its own accord without a thought concerning your mental wellbeing. While your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage, your hands steadily tear open the cardboard overlaps. 

Taking a deep breath, you open the flaps and find a single sheet of paper covering the rest of the objects. It reads “for my darling daughter, with much love.” It’s signed “Mama Donowitz”.

Underneath the letter reveals a boatload of miscellaneous items from Donny's youth that he's shown to you with pride. His prized Lefty Grove signed baseball, favorite Wrigley's chewing gum, and his worn and torn favorite baseball glove stood out the most. Little things like that made you grin to the point where your cheeks reached your eyes. Anecdotes of Donny's childhood run through your mind—his voice echoing pure excitement. You take your time admiring each item, trying to permanently engrave them into your memory just like you had with his stories. 

Then you find Donny's baby socks, embroidered with his name in red string.  All resolve you bottled up for months disappeared instantly. You completely crumble.

You press the little socks to your chest as tears freely stream down your face and onto your neck, coating the bare skin with liquid. A wail bubbles up within you, crawling up your throat at a steady pace. But when you open your mouth to scream, nothing comes out. It dies in your throat. The only effort you can commit to is to rock back in forth, allowing sobs to shake your body. If someone saw you, they might have thought you were convulsing. They might have even called the ambulance. 

The sobs don’t stop until hours later. By the time your heart calms down from its burning thrum, exhaustion envelops you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

           Aldo kicks some dirt on the side of the road while lighting up a Chesterfield. It doesn't take long for him to reach your house since it's down the road. He checks his wristwatch before knocking on the front door. He has about 45 minutes to meet Jenny at the factory. He'll spend 15 minutes here for coffee before leaving. You always made better coffee than his wife. 

After some knocking and no response, Aldo takes it upon himself to check through the windows. Most of them are covered by curtains but the window facing the breakfast table isn't. He peers through, searching for you and his nephew wrapped in your arms. 

Instead, he finds you on the floor with no baby in sight. 

Aldo runs to the back door and searches for the hidden key. Besides the backdoor, he digs under the false rock where he remembered he put. It’s gone. The Chesterfield falls into the hole. He crushes it out and fixes the dirt on top. As an act of impulse, he stands up, goes to the backdoor, and punches out the small window panels on the door. The glass breaks easily and shards pierce his hand just as smoothly. Just glancing at it, he can tell his flesh is free from any lingering shards. A clean slice on his wrist bleeds moderately. 

He reaches on the opposite side of the door and tugs at the locks. Not a second later, the door slams open, and you shoot up in an upright position. 

Immediately, a fury of questions spews out of Aldo's lips, blending together and becoming unintelligible to your groggy brain. 

"Is it morning already? I swear I took a five-minute na—" You see Aldo's bleeding hand and gasp, reaching out to inspect his wound. Your current position on the floor completely escaping you for a moment. Aldo lets you worry for right now. 

You drag him up to the sink and run his hand over the open water. "Will I be alright, doc?" His odd accent leaves a few letters out. It reminds you of someone you try not to think about. "Ain't seen such a wound since the war."

Briefly glancing at him, he throws a wink and you gratefully smile. "You're the bane of my existence." You take his hand out of the water to wrap it in a big Band-Aid. It has crude miniature drawings of Mickey Mouse that make Aldo question them. "Just in case either your kids or mine get hurt, they'll immediately cheer up at seeing Mickey. Band-Aid should really invest in designing their product. Who knows how much money they could make?"

Aldo agrees as you finish. "You'll see another day, lieutenant"

He crookedly grins at you and thanks you for your service. You offer him some coffee which he enthusiastically agrees too. He checks his watch as he sits down at the breakfast table. Jenny will have his head if he's late. But he doesn't worry too much about that. She'll understand once he explains what happened. 

"Mind tellin’ me why I caught a heart attack on this fine Thursday mornin’? Findin’ you sprawled out like freshly ran over roadkill?"

"Disgusting, Aldo." You say while passing him his mug of coffee. You turn around to fix yourself a toasted bagel with cream cheese. "I guess I was so tired last night that I fell asleep sorting out the gifts." You lazily wave your hand at the unsorted boxes on the floor. 

Aldo walks over to the opened box in the middle of the kitchen and grabs the socks you dropped hours ago. He looks them over and notices a letter embroidered on the top. 'D' in red thread. 

"Those are Donny's." You confirm. Aldo meets your glazed gaze. 

Aldo sucks in a quick breath. It finally clicks in his head. Jenny will understand. 

“Darlin—" You look up at him with such a depressed expression that immediately shuts him up. All he does is gather you in his arms and rests his chin on your head.

 He hears you mumble something about how small Donny's feet were before you silently cry into his chest. 

After a few seconds, Aldo's cheeks become wet with his own tears as he mourns over not only his friend but the lives he left behind. 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,661 published: august 21, 2020  edited: n/a

[southslates]

Sorry I accidentally posted this as a note instead! I absolutely love your work! How about Zutara + “Betty” from folklore!

“I'm only seventeen I don't know anything”

i.

Katara stands in front of him. And then she blinks; and then she keeps staring. Zuko's features look utterly, completely, unreservedly terrified. He looks like he is about to fall apart, right then, as she takes him in.

He has tracked her and Aang across the entire world, and she does not know what he is doing here, but she feels, for some reason, guilty. Her heart beats against her chest wildly.

She should go tell the others about this. She lifts her foot up, and the prince looks like she has just started stomping on all of his hopes and dreams. She knows that gaze, marred as it is, all too well.

So she steps forward, feet pounding the pavement until she is truly right in front of him. Her voice wavers.

"I'd like some tea, please."

ii.

The girl keeps coming back to the teahouse. He wants her to leave. She is just a reminder of his past and she holds so much power over him. He doesn't like that. He wants her to leave.

On her fifth day she reaches a hand out and grabs his arm. She has been wearing this strange facade, acting absolutely nonchalant, and his fingers flex as his mind readies him for a fight. But her grasp is light and she lets go when he turns around.

"You owe me an explanation," she says.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he shudders out.

"I know." Her cool eyes are blue but they bear fiery holes into him. She gestures towards the kitchen, where Iroh is watching this strange conversation. "I still want to know."

iii.

He shudders when he's near her, and she finds that strange. But some part of her feels at peace when she flops up onto the kitchen table. He had moved away when she had come close to him -

She wonders, briefly, who has ever touched him; the ugly skin across his face looks like a hand mark.

"You're not trying to capture us."

It's a statement, and he doesn't respond. Iroh exits the door and slams it shut behind him until it is the two of them, just them, facing each other amongst roaring teapots.

"No."

"Why?"

"This - this is fine."

"That's not what I - why did you want to capture us, in the first place?"

His left eye is slanted and his lips curl down. She doesn't think she has ever seen him smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now. You should leave."

"I don't want to."

"Look, waterbender -"

"My name is Katara," she lilts, so curious; he glares further.

"Look, Katara. Let me go. I don't want to cause any trouble."

She slides off the table and heads to the backdoor, pausing to give him one last long look. It seems searching. "It's my turn, Prince Zuko."

iv.

"Moonpeach bun today," she requests, and he doesn't say anything to that, just stands there with his brow tilted quizzically. She looks up a moment later. "What? I'm hungry."

She has never bought food here, before; something is changing, but the metal clamp over his heart almost releases itself.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay," she replies.

v.

One day she comes in and he is not here. She knows his schedule, the patterns; she walks up to the desk and asks the old man there what has happened. He seems to note her interest with a quirk of his lips.

"Lee is sick," he tells her. "He isn't here today."

She has seen this boy in both poles, has frozen him intimately. It's strange to think that the warrior who kept fighting with his eyes bruised and body aching would succumb to the ills of the flesh. "Where is he?"

"Should I trust you, Master Katara?"

"You know -"

"I know a lot of things. And I care for my nephew," he frowns, but she feels validated. "Come back."

vi.

"How did you manage to get an infection here?" a voice sounds from above him, and he winces in pain at its high note. That does not sound like Uncle.

"W--what?"

His right eye blearily opens and he wants to jump away when he's faced with that deep, startling blue. Katara does not seem angry over him. Now that he is alert his nerves are tingling, and he looks down to see her hands on his bare chest. Color rises to his cheek, but she seems unaffected.

"You seem to enjoy hurting yourself," she says almost teasingly, but she does not even know half the truth. Zuko is not good at taking care of himself, and he had left this wound to fester. He does not always mind being Lee, but sometimes he feels that this life will never be enough.

Now, he is slightly lucid. "Why are you here?"

Her hands glow, clinically, on his chest. "I'm healing you."

"Why?"

Her features, gorgeous in the night's light, dim. "That doesn't matter."

vii.

He is different, now. He is calmer at a surface level, but she sees a fire that lives within; his blood feels like it is boiling.

She's curious about what lies further; she knows she should not be.

viii.

"That girl knows we're firebenders," he whispers, and Uncle turns.

"Of course Master Katara knows the truth. What is the problem?"

"I wasn't talking about her -" But she's here, still, and she walks right up to him at the counter. It has been different, after the day she showed up to his apartment. It has been something tentative, something like friendship.

"Hi," she says breathlessly, and he can't help himself.

"Hi."

They stare at each other before Iroh's sharp whistle draws them out of this; a brown head turns and leaves the shop in the distance.

ix.

There is some sort of festival in the streets, and she avoids dancing performers to wander into an almost empty shop. Pao is not there, so she steps into the kitchen freely; neither men inside are surprised to see her there.

"What's going on?" she asks. Zuko reaches next to him and places a steaming cup of tea in her hands. He is not wearing his apron right now; he looks different. He looks less broad and more defined, and she likes looking at him. She does.

"The Celebration of the Lotus Sky," Iroh says cheerfully. "A nice parade, no? You should be out there, Master Katara." Something lies unspoken; where is the Avatar? Aang would love this, but he is busy with Toph. She frowns thinking about it and almost drops the cup. Zuko places his hand right in front of her, and she smiles at him.

A strange sort of hope is blooming in her chest. "It sounds fun."

Zuko looks like he is struggling with something for a moment. Iroh takes that time to leave. But then he looks at her, golden eyes looking strangely innocent, and speaks. "Yeah, it does."

x.

Something comes together under that sky; lanterns float by them, and she gets him to actually speak once they find a vendor selling Fire Nation cuisine.

She pays for him, and he does not know how to feel about that. He is distracted as they walk through the streets, as she seems young and jubilant. Here, she is just Katara. Not a master, not calculated; she is just here. She is not playing games with him.

It feels nice, because everyone plays games with him.

She pulls him to a fountain after they've exhausted the path, and his cheeks are hurting with laughter for the first time since . . . since his mother had died. She had tried to make him dance and accepted his shake of a head; she had laughed over noodles with him, had made funny faces in mirrors until his smile moved. She had tried, and that makes all the difference.

The sconces are unlit, and she looks at them wistfully. He wishes he could light them, but he cannot risk that, and that leaves him disappointed in himself.

And then Katara leans herself up against his shoulder, and he feels like he could burn down this entire city with the fire that rages within him.

He does not know if there is something here. He almost wishes that there was.

xi.

Nothing good ever lasts. She feels like she had something fragile, like she is about to break it here, sitting on the floor of the Crystal Catacombs.

"That's something we have in common," he says, and she cannot resist walking over to him. She places her hand on his scar, and he does not look scared when her thumb skims his lip. He does not look resigned. He looks peaceful.

Then something breaks and she turns away, and he sees the Avatar, and his heart stops beating.

xii.

She sees him look at her, at his sister. Isn't the choice obvious? She is right here. They have created something here, carved it out in the tea house. She is right here. But Aang is also right here, and she does not know how to verbalize her feelings like that.

That is her mistake. He asks her a question with his eyes, and she freezes.

xiii.

He wants her to tell him that this will not be worth it. He wants her to lay her head on his shoulder and stop him from doing this. Because he remembers the fish in the pond, and he thinks about good and evil, and he does not know.

He needs her to have faith in him.

She hesitates, and she looks at the Avatar, and all he can feel is rage.

xiv.

"I trusted you," she screams.

xv.

"Not enough," he doesn't say.

/

“The worst thing that I ever did Was what I did to you”  - Taylor Swift, Betty

(Indulgence & an S2 AU that got away from me. I’m not a hundred percent sure what you were looking for, but I hope this works aha. Thanks for requesting @colourtheworldwithrainbows​ & I’m so glad you like my writing & I hope you enjoyed this :) Even though I definitely bungled the prompt aha.

If anyone has a Zutara request/prompt you’d like to see written, leave it in my ask box and I’ll write it!)

[queenofmoons67]

Canary

Summary: Jin Guangyao is fond of Nie Huaisang and doesn’t want to kill him—even when he’s discovered some of Jin Guangyao’s deepest darkest secrets.

Or, in which Wei Wuxian finds more than just Nie Mingjue’s head in Jin Guangyao’s vault.

Characters: NHS, LXC, WWX, LWJ, JGY

Wei Ying’s paperman hurried through the mirror after Jin Guangyao.

In the weeks since Mo Xuanyu had brought him back, he had mostly just been hanging out in the cultivation world drinking, taking care of the odd night hunt, and spying on his old friends and family.

It had been on one such spy trip that Wei Ying had first become suspicious of Jin Guangyao. His nephew, Jin Ling, had hesitantly inquired after the health of one of his other uncles—none other than Mo Xuanyu himself. That wouldn’t have been enough on its own to make Wei Ying suspicious, but then Jin Guangyao had smiled pleasantly and lied with no hesitation about how he had received a letter from Madam Mo just the other week about how well they were doing.

Since then, Wei Ying had been doing everything he could to investigate Jin Guangyao, but it was hard when he had almost nothing to go on. It was time, he’d decided, to go straight to the source.

Using the distraction of a Discussion Conference in Koi Tower, he had stashed his body in an empty guest room, and gone to hang out in Jin Guangyao’s rooms. Hours had passed with nothing found before Qin Su appeared, trying to talk to Jin Guangyao about why he refused to even touch her once they were in private. When her husband just turned away instead, Qin Su had left, face stony—and that was when things started getting interesting with the mirror reveal.

Wei Ying drifted through the air after Jin Guangyao, and when the man finally came to a stop by the back wall, he hurried to a bookcase just a few feet away, fitting himself up against it and peering around the corner.

If he had a jaw, it would have dropped.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t alone anymore. There was a figure sitting crosslegged on a small bed and leaning against the wall he was chained to, talismans plastered around him that had kept him from view when Wei Ying first entered.

The figure had a soft voice, and Wei Ying found himself leaning forward to listen to their conversation.

“Back early, San-ge? Did something happen?”

Jin Guangyao scoffed as the figure raised his head and smiled. “Don’t pretend like you care, A-Sang. We both know—”

Whatever Jin Guangyao said was lost behind the mirror when Wei Ying darted back the way he had come, flying recklessly down the halls. He couldn’t risk Jin Guangyao moving the man before he could return with help.

Nie Huaisang was supposed to have died five years ago, so how come he was chained up in Jin Guangyao’s secret room?

<line break>

Nie Huaisang whirled to face the entrance as it banged open. He hastily put down the papers he’d been going through and adopted a weak smile—but it was too late. Jin Guangyao stared at him, hand already drifting up and ready to draw his sword.

“San-ge!” Nie Huaisang cried, blinking tears into his eyes. “You’ll never believe—”

“A-Sang. Why are you going through my desk?”

“I—I needed your help, but you weren’t here, so I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Jin Guangyao interrupted, voice flat. “You shouldn’t be here, A-Sang.”

“San-ge—”

“Why did you have to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong?” Jin Guangyao sighed, even as he stepped forward one smooth movement at a time and Nie Huaisang backed up until his back pressed against the desk. “I like you, A-Sang, I do. You’re my brother; I don’t want to kill you.”

“It’s a pity Da-ge didn’t warrant the same feeling,” Nie Huaisang spit. Giving up his ‘headshaker’ routine as lost, he dashed forward, shoulder tucked to ram past his once-brother and already drawing breath to shout—

He only caught a glimpse of Hensheng’s flat blade before it collided with his head.

<line break>

Wei Ying, back in his physical body, knocked on the door of a guest room he had noted earlier.

“Hanguang-jun!” he called. “Lan Zhan! I need your—help.” Wei Ying blinked up at the blank-faced Lan.

“Yes?”

Shaking himself, Wei Ying grabbed Lan Zhan’s wrist and dragged him towards Jin Guangyao’s rooms. “There’s no time to explain,” he panted. “But Jin Guangyao has Nie Huaisang locked up in—”

“Nie Huaisang is dead.”

“I thought so too! But that was definitely him—” Wei Ying jerked to a stop as Lan Zhan refused to take another step. “Lan Zhan—”

“Who are you? Why should I trust you?”

Wei Ying stared up at his old friend and enemy. Lan Zhan didn’t seem angry; his brow was wrinkled, yes, but Wei Ying thought it was in confusion. “I…”

Why should Lan Zhan trust him? True, they had been friends once, and Wei Ying still trusted Lan Zhan to the point that he’d been the first person he’d run to for help tonight—but to Lan Zhan, he was still just strange Mo Xuanyu at best, and the Yiling Patriarch at worst.

“Because you’re Hanguang-jun,” he finally said. “You help people, even if that means going where the danger is. Is now any different?”

For a moment, Lan Zhan just looked back at him. Then he nodded. “Mn. Show me where Nie Huaisang is.”

<line break>

Nie Huaisang didn’t look at Jin Guangyao when he heard him step through the mirror and into the room.

He didn’t look at him when he heard him moving around, or when he checked that the chains were tight and intact.

He didn’t look at Jin Guangyao when he put fresh food and water in front of Nie Huaisang and quietly urged him to eat while picking up the untouched plate.

For the first week he was in Jin Guangyao’s mirror, Nie Huaisang never looked away from the curtains hiding his Da-ge’s head.

<line break>

Lan Xichen turned the corner to his room to settle in for the night, only to collide with something moving fast. The person cried out, stumbling back, and Lan Xichen reached out quickly to steady the smaller figure.

“Are you ok—Mo Xuanyu?” He asked, surprised to see his sworn brother’s half-brother. “What are you doing at Koi Tower?” Are you even allowed here?

“Mo Xuanyu?” a familiar voice asked, and Lan Xichen looked up, startled, to see Wangji narrowing his eyes at the man.

“My name,” Mo Xuanyu said hastily. “No time, sorry Zewu-jun! Lan Zhan, Nie Huaisang!”

“Mn,” Wangji nodded, following Mo Xuanyu down the hall and leaving Lan Xichen to stand alone, heart thundering and staring after them. Had—had they said Nie Huaisang?

<line break>

Nie Huaisang rested his head on the cold stone wall behind him and studied the ceiling. In the years since he’d been stashed away as just another one of Jin Guangyao’s secrets, he had tried just about everything he could think of to escape—not that there was a lot, when you were chained up in a pocket dimension that almost no one knew existed.

His best chance had been when a young man started coming in and studying various papers. Jin Guangyao had put up talismans around Nie Huaisang’s corner, though, and no matter what Nie Huaisang did, he couldn’t catch the boy’s attention and make him realize there was someone else there.

And now, even that chance seemed to have vanished. The man hadn’t been back in weeks.

“It’s just you, me, and Da-ge now, huh,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his head to the side and studying the Ghost General.

<line break>

Lan Xichen caught up to Wangji and Mo Xuanyu outside of A-Yao’s rooms, Mo Xuanyu clearly posed to knock down the doors.

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen cried. “What’s happening? Do you—you think that A-Sang is in A-Yao’s rooms? But—” he shook his head, bewildered “—but why? A-Sang has been dead for years!”

“Did you see him die, Zewu-jun?” Mo Xuanyu asked, voice soft and so unlike the man Lan Xichen remembered, despite how his question rocked him. If A-Sang wasn’t dead, then—

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen forced himself to look at the issue logically. “No, I didn’t. I was at Cloud Recesses, and A-Sang was visiting A-Yao here. He was overwhelmed with work, so A-Yao—A-Yao thought that a night hunt might help him clear his head. It was supposed to be a small one, so they only took a handful of disciples with them, and…” And A-Sang’s body was burned beyond recognition.

“Nie disciples, too? Or just Jin disciples?”

Lan Xichen blinked. “A-Yao never said,” he said slowly. “I just assumed… why wouldn’t A-Sang have taken disciples with him?

“Unless it was a cover story.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded once, face open. He was sympathetic, but also clearly eager to move on.

If A-Sang was actually in there, then Lan Xichen understood why. If he wasn’t, A-Yao would understand.

Stepping forward, Lan Xichen cut the door down himself, then stood back and let Mo Xuanyu lead the way.

If A-Sang wasn’t dead, then Lan Xichen had abandoned his didi.

<line break>

Nie Huaisang gaped at the path of destruction trailing to the mirror, and likely continuing outside of it. The Ghost General had just ripped his chains from the wall and dragged them after him, not caring how they crashed into everything.

Nie Huaisang was mostly just thankful the destruction hadn’t included his own bed, but… but there was a part of him, not yet drowned out by the long days spent chained up, that had hoped if the Ghost General escaped, he would take Nie Huaisang with him. Even if the fierce corpse was just an empty vessel after all that Jin Guangyao did to him, Nie Huaisang had liked to think they were friends. They had been each other’s only decent company for years, after all.

“Not counting you, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang laughed. “But you are just a head.”

Lying down and still looking at where the Ghost General had been just a few scant minutes ago, for the first time in a long time, Nie Huaisang wished for one of his old fans—for the comfort of it tapping against his palms and chin; for the distraction it would provide; for the swish as it opened and gave him something to hide his tears behind.

“We’re going to be here forever, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang sobbed.

<line break>

The room was empty, but Mo Xuanyu crossed it swiftly, heading straight for a large mirror against the back wall—and then through it. Wangji and Lan Xichen shared a look of alarm and hurried after him.

A wall of sound hit Lan Xichen the moment he stepped inside the mirror; Mo Xuanyu had grabbed a sword from a stand and was using its sheath to block A-Yao and Hensheng’s ringing blows.

Lan Xichen could have excused that. They were intruding, after all, and Mo Xuanyu had been banished from Koi Tower—A-Yao had a right to defend himself. But A-Yao was avoiding the space behind himself, despite Mo Xuanyu pressing the advantage. It was like there was an invisible line that A-Yao couldn’t cross.

And maybe there was.

Lan Xichen and Wangji hurried forward, Wangji going to help Mo Xuanyu and Lan Xichen ignoring everything but that invisible line.

There were shouts around him, A-Yao calling for him to stop, Mo Xuanyu taunting A-Yao—even the voice of Wangji, quiet yet cutting, telling A-Yao to let them through.

Lan Xichen just kept moving until the moment his foot stepped where A-Yao had refused to, and the blank wall in front of him gave way to a small, shouting figure.

“—here! I’m here!”

He broke off even as Lan Xichen stopped, both of them staring.

The figure was chained to a wall,  his clothes brown and black instead of green and gold, and his hair pulled back into a messy topknot that lacked its usual braids. He was thin and pale in a way that spoke of years inside and a lack of even the small amount of exercise he used to do. He was crying.

“Er-ge!”

“A-Sang!” Lan Xichen surged forwards, sweeping him into a hug and making sure to restrain his strength even as A-Sang tucked his face into Lan Xichen’s shoulder.

They were both crying now, their robes damp with tears, and Lan Xichen forced himself to take in great, shuddering breaths of air. He couldn’t lose himself to crying, because A-Sang needed him. A-Sang needed him, and Lan Xichen was finally there.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “I’ve got you, A-Sang.”

<line break>

Nie Huaisang clung to Lan Xichen as tightly as he could, tears blurring his vision—but he still tilted his face out of Lan Xichen’s robes just enough to keep his eyes fixed on the fight in front of him. Though he didn’t think Jin Guangyao would harm their second brother, he had thought the same about Da-ge. He wouldn’t risk taking his eyes off Jin Guangyao for as long as Lan Xichen had his back turned to him.

And, he admitted to himself, the satisfaction of watching Jin Guangyao find himself backed into a corner burned white-hot inside him.

He had wanted this for so long.

What would he do, Nie Huaisang wondered, when he was free from that want? Free from Jin Guangyao? The Nie Sect had surely gotten along fine without him, as he’d at least left instructions for a close cousin to take over as leader. They might not even want him back.

He didn’t know if he wanted to go back, anyway. He had had enough of stone walls to last him a lifetime, and while the Unclean Realm had its nature, going back would mean submitting himself to responsibilities once more.

Maybe he could wander the cultivation world, painting fans and listening to birds. Or maybe, Nie Huaisang thought as Lan Xichen’s arms tightened around him at the sound of Lan Wangji stabbing Jin Guangyao through the heart, the Lans would welcome him at Cloud Recesses. He could paint fans and listen to birds there, after all. It could be a form of quiet retirement—though not too quiet that he would remember this room.

Closing his eyes on Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang buried his face fully into Lan Xichen’s robes and let himself relax in the arms of his er-ge.

<line break>

if you're wondering: WWX and LWJ leave LXC and NHS to their reunion, and talk by themselves. it doesn't take long for WWX to make a certain facial expression--or hum a certain tune--and LWJ quickly realizes what's up.

[soulmate-game]

Awesome, cool (on RE: Marivel). Caaaan we get... uh, Soulmate Game version of marvel/ml crossover? Marinette x Peter? Or just Marinette meeting Peter via Dr. Strange in your Lady Strange AU (post-endgame maybe??). Take your pick (or do both?) and thank you if you do write them!!

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Yes.

This is a crossover between my Lady Strange AU and my Soulmate-Game AU, but since this is a different pairing it receives a different bond. I hope you like it!

—*—*—*—*—*

“I think somebody drew on me in my sleep,” was the first thing he told his Aunt and Uncle, who just blinked at him for a long moment with their toothbrushes half in their mouths. Peter was supposed to be getting ready for school in his own room, but instead, well.

His guardians’ eyes landed on the two childish, but extremely clean doodles on the top of Peter’s shoulders. They were ladybugs, one in red ink and the other blue. Only the outline was colored at all.

The little boy was tearing up.

“I don’t know how they e-ended up here. Why would s-somebody draw on me? It’s mean. Is this the boogeyman? Does…”

He was interrupted by May and Ben’s laughter, shrinking into himself as the adults tried to get ahold of themselves. Ben was the first to sober up, sinking to his knees and carefully laying a gentle hand on Peter’s naked arm, making sure not to come close to the new mark on his shoulder. The poor boy had stopped putting on a shirt altogether in favor of worrying over the doodles.

“No, no,” Ben soothed, running his other hand through Peter’s cinnamon hair. “No boogeyman. This is a good thing, Petey.”

He sniffled, looking up at his father figure warily, a hopeful spark in his eye. “It is?”

“Yeah. Do you remember what we told you about soul marks?” He asked his nephew, who was starting to calm down. The boy nodded, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose from where they had started to slip.

“Almost everyone has one,” he started to recite, furrowing his brows to try and remember what he had been told.

“And they can come in hundreds of different ways,” May filled in, kneeling beside her husband. “Some people have a picture or a name on them to represent their Destined. Some people are colorblind, or missing just one color until they meet their other half.”

“Some people can switch bodies or hear a song in their head that tells them how their soulmate is feeling,” Ben agreed. “There are tons of Bonds. Not everyone has a physical mark. But you,” he nodded to the ladybugs on his nephew’s shoulders. “You do.”

Peter started panicking again. “Oh no, I have two soulmates? What am I gonna do? What if they don’t like me, how can I love two people, I—“

“Relax, honey,” May rustled Peter’s hair with a soft smile. “I don’t think you have two, I think your mark is more complicated than that. Look, the ladybugs are exactly the same except for the color. The mark will probably do something exciting later, when you meet them.”

“Something exciting?” Peter parroted, making Ben chuckle.

“Yeah, but for now they are just cute pictures. Pictures which better be covered up by a shirt soon, or you’ll be late to school bud.”

“Ack!” He had forgotten he was still shirtless. “Sorry Uncle Ben!” Peter Benjamin Parker dashed back to his room as fast as his seven-year-old legs would carry him.

—*—*—*—*—*

Seven years later.

Marinette hummed, analyzing her reflection. Her halter top looked nice, a new design of hers. Tikki hovered near her, similarly happy with the clothing. And then the Kwami squeaked in dismay when her holder reached for foundation.

“Woah woah woah, what are you doing Marinette?!” The little god asked, tempted to take the makeup away. “The shirt makes your soul marks stand out so beautifully! I’m not a huge fan of spiders, but yours are so cute!”

The pigtailed girl blushed bright red, looking into the mirror to see both of the little doodles on her shoulders at the same time. They really were adorable, one cartoony spider on the top of each shoulder, one red and one blue. She didn’t wear the crop top to show them off though. She wore it because she needed to feel confident, and her usual blouses weren’t cutting it. She wanted to feel powerful, free, anything to escape the feeling of water droplets on her skin and the sight of people pinned by buildings, drowning. Blue skin, glassy eyes—

Marinette’s shook her head, taking a deep breath. The halter top she was wearing was a carefully, artistically dyed swirl of baby blue and baby pink. Strategic gathers in the cloth swirled the two colors around one another, bringing them to a small pinpoint of pale purple at the very point where the cloth had first been pinched and curled.

It was whimsical, it was childish and mature all at once. It was what Hope felt like to Marinette. The very thing she needed to try and heal from the whole Syren disaster a few weeks earlier.

“I like them too,” Marinette finally responded to her Kwami, running her fingers over the blue spider, the one on her right shoulder. It had completely vanished when she got home after the Syren attack, proving her father right from when he had told her all those years ago that her Bond was likely more than just a few doodles. “But only my parents know about them. I know the Miraculous suits are pretty much indestructible, but I don’t want to take any chances with this crazy world. If my shoulders ever get exposed while I’m Ladybug, I don’t want anyone to be able to connect that to Marinette,” she explained, slowly and regretfully spreading foundation over both marks and spritzing setting spray over it so that the makeup wouldn’t move anytime soon.

She knew why her blue spider had temporarily vanished. She had thought maybe she had just been imagining it before, when she would occasionally be in the middle of an anxiety attack and think that her blue spider was a little paler than usual. Or on the few occasions when she was going days without sleep, or overextending herself for her friends and her red spider would look a little dull.

She wondered what that meant for the person on the other end of their connection.

—*—*—*—*—*

And then she found out. She was fifteen, and it was about five in the morning. Marinette jolted out of bed, feeling a searing heat on her right shoulder. Throwing her shirt off, she saw it— her red spider was glowing. She felt herself trembling, but she didn’t know why. Tears were raining down her face, but she wasn’t sad. Her hands felt oddly wet and sticky, but they were completely clean.

The teenager shared a long, bewildered look with Tikki before carefully letting her fingers brush over the red spider. And she understood.

Anger. Guilt. He’s blaming himself. He’s dead. My fault. My fault. Blood. Is she feeling this? I’m making her feel this. Stupid. Worthless. Mistake. Mistake.

Marinette pried her hand away from the mark, gasping from the influx of emotions. She didn’t know details, probably to protect the identity of the person on the other end of the Bond, but she got the gist of it. The longer she had stayed on the connection, the more lucid thoughts she got straight from the boy himself. None of it had been promising.

She was able to surmise this; someone close to him died, or was dying. Her hands probably felt sticky because of the literal blood on his. Oh Kwami, he probably saw them die right in front of him. Probably held them.

And there was no Cure to reverse it for him.

But the most important part was that he was blaming himself for it, and Marinette couldn’t stand it. She ground her teeth, and touched the mark again with full intention of making sure he knew it wasn’t his fault. That he wasn’t worthless, and that she wasn’t mad at him for this.

But nothing happened. She tried touching the blue spider, but nothing happened. She tried meditating, hoping they had a mental connection—nothing. Absolutely. Nothing.

The heat was gone from her shoulder, the connection over.

Marinette raged at her inability to help a boy she never met.

—*—*—*—*—*

Four months later, she knew the situation was about to be reversed. She stared down at the old man in front of her, frail and weak but forcing himself to stand and hold the heavy box in the air in front of him. The weight made his twig-thin arms shake, and the pigtailed girl quickly snatched the item before it or the man holding it dropped.

“Master,” she whispered, her eyes frantically searching his. “Don’t. The magic, Tikki’s magic, can help. I’ve been practicing. Don’t—“

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Sabine Cheng and biological daughter of Steven Strange,” the old man started, making Marinette snap her mouth shut with the force of his words. She didn’t know how he found out about her biological father, but didn’t bother asking. It wasn’t important, and he had too many possible ways of finding out through magic. No, his words right now were the only things she found worth focusing on in that moment. “I, Wang Fu, find myself too old to carry on my duties as Grand Guardian. But you are the best student I could have ever asked for. A True Ladybug with a soul of creation, a disciplined mind, and an open heart. I name you as my heir, and as the new Grand Guardian. Do you accept the transference of my title?”

Marinette didn’t want to. The wise eyes boring back into hers said that he knew, that he would understand if she refused. But Marinette also knew that refusing would not grant her the happy ending she wanted from this situation, only regret. His eyes said that he knew that, too.

“I accept,” she didn’t know how she was able to croak that out, but she managed somehow. “Wang Fu, I will gladly take on the title of Lady Strange, the new Grand Guardian. I vow to protect as you have protected, to guard the innocent and punish those who try to upset balance with the Miraculous. To keep the Universe as peaceful as possible with my power.”

“Then let my wisdom become yours,” Fu finished the sacred speech, closing his eyes as a bright green mist was born from his feet. It grew, sliding up his body until it exited his head in a giant luminous cloud like a swarm of fireflies on a misty night. Marinette refused to close her eyes, stubbornly keeping her gaze on Master Fu as the magical green fog covered her own body and sank into her skin. The knowledge of the Guardian’s language and traditions appeared in her mind, along with the rest of Fu’s wisdom and experience with the Miraculous.

“Young lady? Are you alright, you’re crying.”

Marinette took a deep breath, her eyes still locked onto the brown orbs that no longer recognized her. Slowly, she put the miracle box down on his bedside table.

“Yes, I’m fine. How do you feel?”

The old man wobbled, and the young girl had to catch him before he fell. “Let’s get you into bed,” she decided for him, getting a nod and a grateful smile in return. It was after he was in his bed and his eyes were starting to droop that he spoke again, this time in Mandarin.

Which Marinette now spoke, like a final gift from him to her.

“Are you my granddaughter?”

Marinette bit her lip, placing a gentle hand on Fu’s shoulder before responding in the same language;

“That’s right.”

She didn’t need a heart monitor to know when his pulse stopped. She could feel the magic of life drain from him, the Creation that made him who he was disappearing from his form. She dropped, her legs no longer able to support her weight, and sobbed into his comforter.

It happened then, she could feel a phantom hand on her right shoulder. Trying to provide comfort but not able to speak.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I want you here. But thank you. For everything. Thank you.

She didn’t know if she was trying to send those thoughts to Fu or to the boy trying to help her despite never having met her.

—*—*—*—*—*

This is part 1, because Tumblr doesn’t allow me to post the whole thing. Stupid word limits >:[ part 2 right here