#i just really like how dynamic it feels when the dragon is partly out of the frame

[terra-tortoise]

notn hatch and new art for their bio!! inspired heavily by art here and somewhat by art here. the first pretty explicitly, the second is art ive admired for a while and have wanted to do something similar in my own dragon bios. didnt do any shading but i might go back and touch it up later. cloth as ever is so hard to draw.

[bthump]

What if the eclipse rape didn't happen, but Casca still survived somehow and retained her sanity? Do you think she'd follow Guts in his quest for revenge or carve her own, distinct path? How would her opinion on Griffith shift, would she hate him/deeply resent him/try to understand him/a mix of everything?

To be honest, I'm more interested in how you think this scenario should play out in order to feel satisfactory than in how Miura would've handled it, because I really dislike his portrayal of Casca post-eclipse. Also, there's a sequence leaving rent free in my head of Casca being mad and yelling at Griffith for sacrificing the Hawks and basically betraying the blind trust she had put on him and shattering her whole worldview in the process lol. Without Miura silencing her and the eclipse rape taking away her dignity and virtually destroying any hope for a fulfilling future interaction with Griffith, she would've had a solid chance to grow and develop really interesting changing dynamics with our two protagonists, and it's a shame it was stunted...

Thanks for the ask!

For me, when it comes to what I'd want to read or write in this scenario, I think Casca should go her own way and separate herself from Guts. Partly for worldbuilding-logistics reasons, actually - two branded sacrifices can't stay in the same place for long without majorly fucking up that place, as we saw in the Conviction arc.

But mainly because I like the idea of the two of them separating and doing their own thing, and I think it would work with the themes. Like the story could use their two characters to explore differing reactions to trauma - the healthy and the unhealthy. The making connections with other people and growing reaction, and the killing stuff as a coping mechanism reaction. Guts and Casca would essentially be foils for each other.

Unfortunately Casca's stuck with the less fun healthy reaction lol because only the unhealthy gets to be mired in fucked up homoeroticism with Griffith and I'm unwilling to sacrifice that for the sake of a more interesting female character.

So with that division, it would make sense for the narrative to divide the behelit and the armour between them, and in this case Casca should get the armour while Guts gets the behelit. The armour is in a way a test of self control and you can be pulled back from succumbing to it, while the behelit is a one and done monsterizing device, so the armour goes to the healthier one. Casca also collects friends in this scenario while Guts miserably Black Swordsmans around (Farnesca, anyone?)

So ultimately Guts gets my ideal post-Eclipse arc of obsessing over revenge/equality with Griffith and eventually becoming a monster just like him, whereupon maybe one or both die, or maybe Guts ironically rejoins him in a homoerotic "tragic" ending for him 😏

And Casca kind of gets Guts' Millenium Falcon arc through which the story reiterates the importance of relationships, where she wrestles with her own inner darkness but grows past the need for revenge and turns to other goals.

And then maybe her story intersects with Guts and Griffith's in that Griffith needs to be stopped to save the world from dragons or whatever so she allies with various people and does that, and is able to succeed specifically because she's not obsessed with revenge and can keep her head or something like that. Yk, like she uses the armour but is able to come back from it. Whatever.

I don't know or really care what the climax would be here. Does she kill Griff and maybe Guts too? Does she serve as a distraction while a magic thing happens? Or maybe they're reverting the world back to low fantasy and it has nothing directly to do with Griffith and Falconia and she has to slay a dragon or something. Idk, point is she gets a moment to be badass and maybe be tempted by a monsterizing power-up but doesn't succumb to it.

Anyway yeah, idk I'm not super imaginative so my answer is basically "Berserk but Casca gets Guts' role and Guts gets to be gayer" lol. But that said, I would love to see Casca get to express her feelings so yeah that also fits into my thoughts here. Maybe she doesn't directly yell at Griffith but rather tells someone else about what happened and how fucked up it was? Or maybe she gets a Hill of Swords style reunion as well and does get to scream at Griff. It'd be nice. I do think that, in the brief amount of time we saw both her and Guts after the sacrifice and before the Eclipse rape, she was angrier with Griffith than he was.

[ephemeronidwrites]

So this is going to be really, really long, but your reply to my reblog made my brain prune up something fierce like I’d been in a hot bath for way too long, so apologies and thanks in advance.

1. Merrill, Anders, and Solidarity

Anders is really the poster child for “well-meaning race-blind”, isn’t he? Like “oh I don’t see race, I just see the person”… while not seeing the racial factors that go into making the person who they are. Because I see Merrill as one of the most individualistic characters—possibly the most individualistic character flat out—in the entirety of the Dragon Age series, but it would also be a huge and obvious mistake to discount the role her Dalish identity played in making her the person she is. Ethnic belonging isn’t a synonym for groupthink.

I also think it’s very interesting that you point out the uneven dynamic between Anders and Merrill when it comes to solidarity, because that is absolutely true. If I were to reword it slightly, I would say Anders claims solidarity to Merrill (and by extension, her “cause” insofar that he understands it… which is to say, very little if at all), in a way that Merrill never does (that is to say, she doesn’t claim to speak for him, nor for the cause of mage freedom as a whole).

What I’m getting at here is that you could definitely see the unevenness as going both ways, in (ironically) a symmetric sort of way. On Merrill’s side, she gives Anders a lot more than he gives her in the way of tolerance, possibly even understanding. She never makes claims to be pro-mage or on the side of mage freedom, and lets Anders have his beliefs and soapbox moments even when later statements make it clear how little she agrees. And even when she isn’t necessarily pleased with the things he does or says, she keeps those feelings to herself. She doesn’t even avoid him or give him the cold shoulder, since her interactions towards him are her bringing up topics like cats, or Grey Wardens, or Hawke if he is romancing them… things that she thinks he will enjoy talking about (though in her sneaky way, it’s also her way of distracting him so he’ll talk about something less contentious). And she does all this despite not particularly agreeing with him when it comes to mage rights. Or demons and spirits. Or blood magic. Or magic in general.

But wait… doesn’t Merrill have clear opinions about mage freedom? True, going by comments she makes during certain questlines such as Wayward Son, or her approval numbers, it’s obvious she hates it when you turn mages into the Templars, or send them back to the Circle, and in The Last Straw she will even defend them with her own life. That being said, I think it’s debatable how much Merrill sees mages in Thedas as their own separate interest group to begin with... partly because the Dalish (along with many other non-Andrastian cultures of Thedas) do not see mages as a fundamentally different kind of person.

So to me, when Merrill says that “mages should be free”,  that comment is less about the activist platform of mage rights, and more based on a worldview where she simply can’t see the point of the Circle and of the Templar Order in the first place… and because she never internalized the Andrastian shaming and blaming mentality surrounding magic, they’re just not as much of an existential threat to her as they would be to Anders or mage Hawke. Along the same lines, I consider her coming to the aid of the mages in The Last Straw to be, again, less a full-throated endorsement of the mage freedom cause as envisioned by Anders/Justice, but more a statement about what kind of lines she won’t cross… and standing by to allow the massacre of innocents to happen is a line she very much refuses to cross.

On the flip-side, I see Anders as having warmth towards Merrill as a person in a way that she doesn’t towards him. Which might be a weird thing to say when I’ve just gone on and on about how she understands him in a way that he doesn’t do for her, and will respect him and his boundaries in a way that he doesn’t respect hers (or really, anyone’s).

(c.f., something you have also mentioned in another post IIRC: how in one of the early party banters between Merrill and Anders, he tries to come up with his own Andrastian-worldview-compatible explanation as to how she could be a blood mage and still be kosher, so to speak… you can't say there wasn't an effort on his part, but like most of the other things he says to her, it’s condescending af, and the tone of her reply indicates to me that she very much took it in that way.)

But at the same time respect / understanding is a different temperature of goodwill than warmth, and Anders has that warmth in spades. Like, Merrill is fully aware that she doesn’t really get Anders or his cause, but also she doesn’t particularly care either way and she’s fine with that. Whereas Anders understands Merrill even less, but damned if he isn’t going to keep acting on the assumption that he knows a lot more about her and her position than he actually does.

As you’ve said, Anders doesn’t split hairs. If you’re a mage—doesn’t matter your background or personality or your allegiances—he’ll throw down for you, no questions asked. He’s also not someone who is capable of fighting for a cause he doesn’t care about, and so in order to fight, he’ll make himself care if it comes to that. Even if he doesn’t like Merrill, or approve of the things she does, not caring about her is not an option when she’s a mage in his orbit.

(And that way of caring isn’t just about his activism, I would add… he’s been claiming the elven / Dalish cause as his own all the way back to Awakening, in his interactions with Velanna. Even when he talks to Nathaniel about his family issues, Anders references it back to himself, because that’s apparently just his default mode of relating to other people... to say to them "I care about you because you're me" even when that's patently not true. I wouldn’t say he means to hijack their issues, that’s just what always ends up happening.)

And in a weird way, Anders in DA2 also needs everybody—not just Merrill—to like him, much more than he feels the need to do anything to make himself actually likable. Which is understandable, since from what we see in Awakening, being so focused on being charming above all else never worked out for him (and I also feel like dropping the compulsive charming behavior does mark real growth for Anders, independent of the circumstances that brought it about). And that’s pertinent here because it indicates his goals have shifted: when Anders relied on charm, he cared more about distracting the other guy just long enough to slip away once again, borrowing just enough goodwill to see another day.

Whereas DA2!Anders knows he needs help as much he needed it as a starving Circle runaway, but now what he wants is for other people to be willing to put things of actual value on the line to help his cause because they want to. That’s something old!Anders would never have put himself in the situation of needing, or asking for, because he knew that answer would be refusal.

The problem is that all that is a pretty tall order in the first place, and Anders is already a guy with huge boundary issues even before the whole Justice deal, and he simply cannot separate states as disparate as dislike for him personally, differences of opinion, or even a failure to match his emotional intensity, from actual malice or outright denouncement of his cause. (Going from "you don't like me, Carver?" straight to "hating someone just because they're a mage is a shameful thing" kinda broke my brain on a first playthrough, not the least since he was talking to a guy whose family are mostly mages.) That’s a huge reason Fenris consistently manages to make the better arguments in their petty pro-vs-anti-mage spats, I think… aside from the fact that Andrastian privilege has already shaped their world to support Fenris’s sense of morality, he is also just a much more strategic fighter with a talent for working with what he's got. He never resorts to denying demonstrated and/or provable facts, even when that means he has to momentarily go on the defensive until he can press his advantage again. Like you said, Fenris is a master at concealing his emotional needs, when he judges that serves him… Anders is very much not.

None of this is stuff you haven’t already said, btw. Just adding some of my own interpretations / context as to how and why Anders's support is technically unconditional but still seriously flawed in other ways, and especially when it comes to thoughts about Merrill (because there seriously does need to be more written about her).

2. Mage vs Nonmage Hawke

So following from all the above, obviously Anders is someone who can recognize the value of unconditional support, regardless of whether he thinks Merrill’s cause itself intrinsically merits that value. Is he reacting to that? Like you, I like to think that he is—since that approval shift was something that struck me as well on my first playthrough—and honestly even if the writers come right out and say those approval numbers are literally just a bug and they gave no thought to that at all, or even that such a reading goes against their intentions… I’m going to headcanon it this way to my dying breath anyway. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I also think it doesn’t meaningfully bridge the gap between the fact that Hawke is often asked to comment on and make judgements about the Circle despite not knowing anything about living there personally. Like I think Anders is aware that, while Hawke may have lived on the run for fear of being enslaved, Anders has been enslaved.

So those are the kind of equalising factors between mage and non-mage Hawke for Anders, but I don’t think that actually makes mage Hawke less of a mage to Anders, if that makes sense?

Agree with this, and I think that would add a slightly more… multifaceted? dimension to his relationship with mage!Hawke? Because I think even when unrivalled there would be an element of pity and assumption of self-hatred involved for a mage!Hawke if they don’t share Anders’s views 100%. As I’ve pointed out with Merrill, Anders has a tendency to get patronizing with anyone who he’s decided doesn’t understand the main issue as thoroughly as he does (and we see several times that when Anders decides that someone is “stupid” or “misinformed” that’s not necessarily about the other person exhibiting actual lack of understanding and more about their worldview not being an exact match for his own very specific worldview).

Hawke is no exception to that rule… even if they aren’t rivalling Anders, challenge him just a bit or call him out on some of the inconsistencies in what he’s saying—and the fact that they are there doesn’t tend to negate the validity of his overall message, but again, they are there—and you brush up against this. And it’s in how Anders will likely choose to internally process any of this sort of dissonance that the differences will start to come out.

In the case of a nonmage!Hawke, I see Anders as being simultaneously more patient as well as hopped up on performance anxiety. I imagine him in full-on NGO fundraising / recruitment mode, at least in the early stages of the relationship (both platonic and otherwise), which translates into maybe more willingness to invest energy, but also an accompanying greater readiness to just… drop them, if Hawke isn’t proving to be a supportive-enough ally.

But, with mage!Hawke, that sort of “dropping” would be out of the question. I think there would be less excitement around the prospect of getting to “introduce” someone to a new cause because Anders is operating at least in part from the assumption that it should already be Hawke’s cause. Like, he’s going in with higher baseline expectations for a mage, and therefore Hawke risks incurring greater disappointment if/when they don’t quite meet those expectations. He’ll go to greater lengths than with nonmage!Hawke not to let that disappointment do real damage to their relationship (within reason; see below), but he’ll still feel it.

(All of these scenarios assume nonbigot!Hawke—or I guess, lessbigot!Hawke—by default, btw. I personally feel that bigot!Hawke is a different dynamic that really needs to be accounted for separately, almost independent of status as a mage or nonmage… and it’s precisely because of that principle you pointed out: identity as a factor in sussing out allegiances doesn’t mean shit when you’re already talking about a person who has demonstrated that they are willing to stab anyone in the back for personal gain.)

At the same time, knowing how important family is to Anders, and how the early and traumatic severing of that connection fuels so much of who he is now as a person, it’s hard for me to imagine Anders not also simultaneously idolizing Hawke a little bit for being brought up by a mage—and therefore furnishing a living, walking, very loudly talking proof of his argument that mages can and should be out in the world and have families, and not merely be content with being protected from abuse. And I think this emotion would be a little bit more poignantly felt when dealing with mage!Hawke than nonmage!Hawke, because then the preservation of that person becomes about something more than just preserving a connection to someone you admire and possibly even love, it becomes about ensuring that whole thing continues, an opportunity to prove that mage families are not a once-off anomaly but something that should be nurtured and allowed to thrive.

On the flip side, it could very well be that Anders feels more gratitude towards a nonmage Hawke who does actively choose to take his side. Like “you stood up for me even though this wasn’t technically your fight”. And there’s additional symbolic value in the line “someone like you will love someone like me” which is something I think the Justice-side of him would especially appreciate.

Again, I think both dynamics are very interesting and worth exploring. That being said, my personal preference is to befriend Anders as a mage Hawke (with or without a romance) and to approach The Last Straw storyline from the perspective of a Hawke who is a mage, whose emotional stake in the events isn’t solely through proxies in their lives, however dear to them. Everything just feels more personal and relevant that way.

3. Merrill and Marethari

And I think you can see little ways that Merrill holds Hawke at a distance in canon wrt their race. I say this with all the love for the Merrill romance in my heart, I do. But I do get the feeling that Merrill never sees a romance with Hawke as... socially legitimate.

Well but the thing is, I… I sympathize? Not to say that I would necessarily do or think the same in her shoes, but to say that sort of behaviour as coming from a prejudiced place where Merrill is concerned (as I know many have accused various Dalish and other minority-coded characters of doing) just strikes me as not taking the full picture of who she is into account.

Really, what I see is that Merrill is the one who has the most difficulty seeing a future in a relationship with Hawke, and by the very nature of her upbringing her future is everything to her… more so even than other Dalish. Like, if you think about it, the hunters of her clan by the very nature of their duties will be focusing on the here and now, and the craftsmen and herders may take a more long-range view but by necessity their focus will still be more practical than anything else. But “it’s a Keeper’s job to remember”… and therefore, by extension, guide others into the future on the basis of that accumulated knowledge.

It was all Merrill knew even from childhood, to the point where she was uprooted for it at an even younger age than Anders was (and obviously going to a different Dalish clan would have been a less stifling experience than being sent to a Circle would have been, but you do have to wonder about the parallels there…). That’s not the sort of responsibility a person can lay down lightly.

(For all that the other three LIs also have their own issues—meaning, among other things, that their “freedom” is a mixed blessing at best—they don’t have much in the way of baggage that stops them from deciding their own paths forward and forging their relationships with Hawke on those terms. In Fenris’s case, you could even say that his angst is about not having any baggage at all when he really should have something.)

All that’s not to say that someone with a bigoted outlook couldn’t form a relationship with a person from a group that they looked down on. But Merrill’s behavior I simply cannot read that way when other factors seem to be more salient here.

Another thing I would say that psychologically sets her apart from the other LIs / companions is that Merrill has an inherent need to know where something is headed, in order to fully place her faith in it. There isn’t a whole lot of evidence for this in the text, so it’s not something I can easily justify, but I get the feeling that if she wasn’t so invested in forging a way forward for all the Dalish (rather than just being content to get by as they are, as Marethari seemed to be… more on that in a bit), she wouldn’t have gone against the direct instruction of her only mentor, at such immense personal cost to herself.

In this I see Merrill as both a radical and, in a weird way, simultaneously a bit of a fundamentalist, in the sense that she’s so committed to forging a totally novel path forward for her people (radical) by going straight to the source of unadulterated Elvhen culture (fundamentalist), rather than being content with whatever knowledge has managed to survive being handed down through the ages and could be salvaged from attacks and/or theft by humans.

And I figure that’s precisely what Marethari doesn’t like about her charge. Once she reaches the conclusion that Audacity on Sundermount is a demon, Marethari is described as feeling satisfied with that conclusion… not better informed, not more assured of her conclusion, satisfied. She’s prone to drawing judgments that amount to “no true Scotsman” fallacies, or similar. This Merrill questions, even as she fears invoking reprisal by bringing it up. In contrast, Marethari’s attitude says loudly and clearly to her student, “we have the answer we wanted now, so don’t let your doubts get in my way.”

And it isn’t just that she’s intellectually at odds with her student. In the “Merrill” short story, we can see a repeated pattern where Marethari undercuts Merrill: preemptively stating her conclusion for her rather than letting her voice it—or indeed, formulate it—for herself, expecting her to answer questions that were never asked, giving her guidance but only in a "I told you so" kind of way and not in a way that's actually helpful, etc.

“Watch your step, da’len.”

The Keeper’s warning comes too late—as usual—and I trip over the rock, bruising my knees and losing the skin on my palms to the jagged mountain rock. Mythal’enast! Someday, I’ll learn to watch where I’m going. I struggle to my feet, hands covered in blood, and look around.

[...]

“You feel it too, then.” The Keeper’s voice snaps me back to reality. She’s looking at me expectantly… which means I’ve forgotten something. I try to smooth my tunic and succeed in smearing blood down the front. Wonderful. And I still don’t know what it is she’s waiting for—oh! Answer. Right.

(My italics, in case that wasn't obvious.)

And most of all, Marethari does not welcome any challenge, even a fair one… indeed, she straddles the fine line between authority and entitlement, which is the problem here. Because to be clear, Marethari’s issue isn’t that she’s wrong, objectively speaking. There is something to be said for prioritizing caring for the people you currently have and considering that to be the heart of your culture, rather than taking a mad gamble on messing around with an ancient artifact that may not even yield any immediately useful answers… especially when said artifact has proven to be dangerous. And it should be concerning to anyone who cares about Merrill that she’s resorted to blood magic and dealing with what is very likely a demon in order to do it.

That still doesn’t negate the fact that Marethari has so much power over this youngster because of the duty she has to teach her First how to become a Keeper. And more than anything, a First needs to be able to competently lead, to outright replace their Keeper if need be, and that should absolutely include having the ability—though hopefully not the inclination—to challenge their Keeper and win outright.

There’s a multitude of other reasons that I could go into about how Marethari is a bad teacher and Merrill was set up to fail in so many ways she never anticipated, but one continues to stick in my craw above all else. Manipulating both Merrill and Hawke by handing the arulin’holm—an ancient Dalish heirloom that is shared among Dalish tribesmembers as an assurance of good faith and recognition of shared heritage—to Hawke is perhaps the first blatant sign we get that something is deeply, truly wrong with Marethari and Merrill’s relationship, and I believe we were indeed robbed of a rare and unique opportunity to see the world from Merrill’s perspective by not being shown her angry response to this kind of shafting.

In that situation, even though a Hawke who might otherwise want to be very supportive of Merrill would be right to ask questions about what their friend plans on getting into (because blood magic should raise all sorts of * red * flags—pun absolutely intended), I also think Merrill’s response to even that kind of fair and well-intentioned concern could very justifiably be rage, and a “you don’t get to decide this for me” rant… maybe even a slight dip in approval if you don’t give it to her right away.

(That being said, we do get a rant. And I do love the whole mirror-flip approval thing that happens right there if you ultimately don’t give it to her, that was well-thought out).

Because all the arguments about blood magic in the world don’t change the fact that the Dalish have no protocol that could ever justify Hawke having any claim to this artifact as a human, even if Marethari was somehow able to formulate a good argument for why Merrill shouldn't be allowed to have it. Merrill explains the rules surrounding this particular artifact clearly enough, therefore a Hawke who wants to respect Merrill—and by extension, the Dalish ways—should have little problem understanding that the arulin’holm is not theirs to decide what to do with. No matter what other reservations they might have about the issue, no matter what Marethari (or any other “Dalish friend I know”) has to say about it.

(I’m even thinking Hawke could had been given the opportunity to ask “if this is such an important item to the Dalish, what the hell was Marethari thinking even giving this to me in the first place?” and demonstrate their allyship even more firmly—or failing that, just get more information—by giving Merrill an opportunity to give her answer, recentering the narrative on a Dalish perspective, and I think that is also very much a lost opportunity.)

And speaking of Marethari… it is absolutely flabbergasting that she twists her principles so far as to even consider the possibility of allowing this. I feel this foreshadows that…Marethari’s mind might already not be fully her own at that point, let’s just say, specifically because it's a choice that comes so much out of left field. Another point in favor of why Merrill’s reaction to what Marethari did should have been so much stronger. It just isn’t normal behavior coming from a Dalish Keeper, and even if Merrill, as someone who was this woman’s sole protégé and her surrogate daughter for so many years, hasn't quite gotten to the point where she can put that fully into context, something about her reaction should indicate how deviant the Keeper’s behavior is by objective Dalish standards, whether or not Hawke chooses to pry about it. Not treat this as a tantrum that Merrill is having just because she didn’t get something she wanted.

Instead I think we see that reaction displaced somewhere weird: to the Night Terrors quest, of all places, and especially that controversial “half-breed” line. I genuinely think that’s where it comes out… and actually, if I look back at what happens in Wayward Son + Night Terrors, keeping at the forefront of my mind what Marethari does to Merrill in Mirror Image, it even starts to seem like Marethari agreeing to take in and teach Feynriel might well have been an earlier, much more subtle way of invoking this kind of jealousy in Merrill, as a way of trying to break her resistance, getting her to give up "on that foolish nonsense" and come back to the clan.

(Of course, this was before Marethari seemed to go off the rails and think sabotaging Merrill’s good standing with the other clan members—thus ensuring she had nothing to come back to even should she change her mind—was a good idea).

To be clear there is absolutely nothing wrong with the Dalish taking in a mage of elven heritage and offering him education and protection. But look at all this for a moment within the context of Merrill’s relationship to Marethari: here is someone who many in Dalish society would consider “lesser” (after all, his mother, a full Dalish, was discouraged from returning to her clan if she chose to keep him), with no background in Dalish culture, and he hasn't gone through the adulthood rite of passage of getting his vallaslin, but he’s still getting patience and acceptance and guidance from her mentor in a way that Merrill—Marethari’s own First—is perceiving that she never got. And because everything Merrill knows and believes would tell her that what Marethari is doing for Feynriel is The Right Thing To Do, it’s much less defensible for her to protest this treatment in a rational way, than it is for her to get angry about Hawke being given the arulin’holm.

I see this as relating to why Merrill gets so nervous in the first place when she asks Hawke to accompany her to Sundermount… she’s that used to being constantly gaslit, to having the worst assumed about her by the very person who should have always had her back. Again, it’s not a pretty way for those feelings to come out, for Merrill to say those things about Feynriel. But triggered people rarely say pretty things.

More than anything, I agree that the lack of conversation here is the true tragedy, because again, Merrill isn't given much opportunity to say this for herself. She doesn’t even really get to talk about this stuff offscreen, no one mentions her talking about what she gets up to with the Eluvian or discussing Dalish things even once, while Anders is characterized as going on and on about his cause to an extent that sickens everyone around him (admittedly probably not a huge feat to achieve… Anders is abrasive, yes, but it’s not exactly as if the other people around him are great paragons of patience either, for the most part). Again, this touches on something you have also mentioned before—and which has stayed with me since—about the differences between how Anders, for all that he is whumped and vilified, is at least treated seriously by the narrative as a threat, while Merrill’s way is simply dismissed and treated as inconsequential by every possible actor in the story world, including other elves and her own mentor. It is left solely up to Hawke to choose to contradict that narrative, if that's something they want to do... and if they're being played by someone who's even capable of seeing that that's an option.

So I think with those three broad topics I’ve said everything I wanted to say to your last. Please understand that I am thrilled that you went off on the tangents that you did—about Merrill, about Fenris, about all of it. Honestly, with the first reblog I had a hard time coming up with a specific enough question to make the engagement worth it, what I really wanted was ALL THE THOUGHTS and you certainly delivered. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you for holding you hostage, both with that reblog and with this long-ass reply! Thank you again!

As a disclaimer: This is very deep in the DA2 approval lore. And this is a very buggy game and I can in no way guarantee that this wasn’t just a programming mistake. And beyond that I think many of the approval point calculations in DA2 were poorly considered, and I would totally be brushing this as one of them if it was about any other two characters. But I’m going to let myself indulge this one and feed my merders agenda m’kay.

Very obsessed with the change in Anders approval rates between the first and second passes on giving Merrill the Arulin’holm. And I really do wonder if it was on purpose and what, if anything, the writers intended to say here.

Without, like, installing the new EA app on my dying laptop and running off to get the screenshots as proof, iirc the first pass happens right after Marethari has given Hawke the Arulin’holm. Merrill is at that point breathing a sigh of relief that Marethari has relinquished it in the first place, and largely taking for granted that Hawke will hand it over.

It’s after that first pass that Merrill realises she has to make a rhetorical claim to the artefact. And her argument is basically this isn’t Hawke’s decision to make and she knows what she’s doing.

And Anders doesn’t have any dialogue here between these two choices but I am intrigued by the possibility that he did find that argument at least partly convincing. Note you do still get +10 approval for refusing to hand it over, so he’s def not broken up about whether Merrill actually gets what she wants here or not. But I like the idea that for a moment he recognises part of himself in Merrill. Like, he may not support what she’s doing or approve of giving her the Arulin’holm, but maybe he approves of the fact that Hawke is deferring to another mage’s decisions and expertise. They are living in a time when the general consensus is that mages shouldn’t be allowed to be in charge of their own lives, in a time when Anders himself is constantly dealing with others’ judgement about the choices he’s made with Justice and the Underground and the sacrifices he’s made with his time and health to sustain them. So maybe Hawke understanding that and responding in defense of mages’ right to those choices is as important in his eyes as whether Hawke agrees with his feelings about the actual choices themselves.

(And all that being said, Marethari handing an ancient Elvhen artefact to a human, knowing Merrill would do anything to get it, knowing Merrill is isolated in an environment when Hawke holds clear social privilege over her, is fucked up in ways Anders won’t even begin to understand. So, yeah, this post isn’t trying to erase any of the ways he’s still being awful in this scene as much as trying to examine the specific nature of how.)

[ventique18]

Warnings: smutty topic, opinions only based on crumbs, MalleYuu musings

When I first started TWST, I was part of the "no way Malleus is bitchless" crowd. He's very beautiful, very powerful, and rather old so there's no way people aren't throwing themselves at him in the many years that he's alive right?

But after hanging around the JP fandom, I've come to 180 conclusion that there's no way he's even slept in the same bed as anyone.

Some analyses and musings below:

He is obviously feared by many, but you know how his most hated food is a whole cake because he has no one to share it with? If no one's willing to stick around and eat cake with him-- even if it's just for political purposes, why would they want to sleep with him?

Though he's very celebrated in their country, it feels like he's just being paraded around like patron saint. No one really looks at a saint figurine and immediately think "damn I'd hit that."

His grandmother doesn't seem like the type to force her grandson to marry for power. They seem like the type of family who believe they are so powerful that they don't need anyone else but themselves.

Malleus doesn't have a living grandfather/other-grandparent. Which means his grandmother either only pragmatically had children for the sake of creating heirs, OR her partner was her soulmate and she doesn't desire to replace them. (We know the concept of soulmates exist in their world because Jack mentioned this in Ace's groom vignette.)

Which maybe hints that dragons in their world don't wake up one day and think "damn I feel horny today". Malleus also doesn't have any other living relatives, which implies that dragons really don't care much about sexual relations or even spreading their bloodline.

And this opens the possibility that Malleus is, indeed, bitchless despite being 200y.o. at minimum. Partly because he's sheltered, partly because he's probably uninterested in carnal practices in the first place, and mostly because literally no one wants to stick around long enough for him to even consider sleeping with anyone.

Which brings me into pushing how cute the MalleYuu dynamic is! Literally, LITERALLY you would be his first opportunity at romance and it's so new and exciting for him that he can't take you off his mind. He's like a teenager experiencing what having a crush means.

And, if you turn out to be his soulmate, then he'd (more likely than not) follow his grandmother's example. He would love you and only you, and no matter what lies ahead for both of you, he'd treasure each and every second that you spend together. Unconditionally and incomparably.

[captains-simp]

Can your write a longer version of the Romanov (Romanoff) teacher x fem reader and/or with Carol Danvers or Yelena Belova? (I know she is her sister but they aren’t really)

And I’ll buy you two cups of coffee. Or if u do All three characters, (not at once but maybe eventually in another story), I’ll buy u 4 cups 🥰

F-four cups?? Bdosskdskssosjs I'm on it!!

2.8k words

Warnings: teacher!Natasha X student!reader, teacher!Carol X student!reader, unhealthy power dynamic, dub-con (not really?? Putting it to be safe) age gap (R is 18), smoking, being caned, praise, degrading, strap on sex, oral on strap on, gagging and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your head fell back against the brick wall as you exhaled heavily and let the thick smoke escape your parched mouth. You stared up at the clouds amongst the perfectly blue sky and made out various shapes the clouds displayed, each telling their own story. You smiled when you spotted a laughing dragon.

"Y/n." Came a snappy voice that pulled you from your daydreaming. You recognised the voice instantly and clenched your teeth together as you dropped your joint to the floor and stepped on it.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" You rolled your eyes and glared at the teacher approaching you.

"You know smoking is not permitted on these grounds. Neither are the those." The redhead stated as she eyed the the packet in your pocket and held her hand out for it. You begrudgingly handed it over.

"Detention. 7 o'clock. Do not be late." She warned before heading back towards the old building. You continued to glare daggers into her back as you watched her leave, those damn hips swaying with every step.

You would be the first to admit your teacher was hot. With all those curves and a look to kill, yes you were attracted to her. But there was a lot of teachers at the school that were easy on the eyes. The difference with Natasha was she seemed spent on making your life at that school a living hell.

It felt like she was always out to get you, giving you detentions left and right and shouting at you for seemingly nothing. So being attracted to her while she played the role of the your own personal guardian devil wasn't easy. Plus: it was beyond frustrating being horny at a boarding school.

The day dragged by after that. Every time you looked up at the clock on a classroom wall it had barely changed. You just wanted the day to be over with.

Finally, 7 o'clock came and you dragged yourself to Natasha's classroom a few minutes late. You would be lying if you said you hadn't deliberately been late to piss her off. Not to mention you had made it quite the habit with your teacher. You were a sucker for tradition.

"I do hope that one day you'll learn the importance of being punctual." Natasha said from her desk where she didn't look up from marking.

"I guess today just isn't that day." You said as you slouched down in your seat in the back row.

You frowned as you noticed a workbook wasn't placed on your desk already. That was usually all your detentions consisted of, you doing more work. You looked up and saw Natasha watching you darkly. You struggled to hold her gaze for more than a couple seconds.

"On the contrary, y/n. I think today is exactly that day." She said with a small smile you didn't trust at all. You rarely saw her smile. Brief, forced ones towards her colleagues was all you thought she was capable of. But the one she gave you, it was hiding something.

"Come here." She said suddenly and you found yourself getting to your feet rather hastily.

You made your way down the room and stood infront of your teachers desk with some nerves. While you had never strived to piss off any teachers, their threats never seemed to scare you because you knew there was nothing they could really do. It never got any worse than a series of tedious detentions. But you found yourself not wanting to test your teacher that evening.

Natasha stood up from her chair and put the papers to the side before walking around the desk and past you. You didn't look back to see what she was doing but you could hear her open the door to her supply room. There was one in every room in the generously sized school. All stocked with books and alike, but you had never seen the inside of Miss Romanoff's supply room, it was always too dim.

Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way back to you. You still didn't dare turn around, maybe if you had Natasha wouldn't have pushed your back down with alarming force that had your front pressed against her table in less than a second.

You gave a startled cry in alarm and went to get back up but Natasha's hand stayed firmly between your shoulder blades and forced you to stay flat against the desk.

"Miss!" You called but she didn't respond. Instead, her other hand wandered up the back of your left thigh. Her touch was light as a feather and it brought out an involuntary shudder from you despite the screaming in your head.

Natasha then hiked your skirt up over your hips. You stayed silent at the act. In shock more than anything else. Perhaps part of you wanted to know what she was planning.

What you didn't expect was to feel a sharp sting across your ass and a cracking sound echo across the room. You cried out again and tried to get off the desk but your teacher was too strong.

"What the fuck was that?" You demanded as your ass continued to sting furiously.

"I thought some old school punishment would fit you better, y/n. Nothing else quite seems to suffice." She explained and brought the cane back down on your thinly covered ass. You jerked forwards and gripped on to the edge of the desk firmly as another cry was ripped from your throat.

She hummed in consideration for a moment, most likely pausing for an extra second just to taunt you, before dipping her fingers under the waist band of your panties and pulled them down your legs. You whimpered quietly and pressed your thighs tightly together, not wanting your teacher to see any possible and surprising signs of what her actions were doing to you.

When your panties were at your feet you breathing became more shallow and you awaited the next strike in fear.

"I think ten strikes will suffice." She declared and your eyes widened. "But let's not forget I also have to teach you the importance of punctuality. How many minutes late were you, y/n? Seven?"

"Please." Spilled from your lips. You weren't sure you could handle seventeen strikes from the devil crafted stick in you teacher's hand.

"You can take it, darling. After all," She started as she leant forward to whisper in your ear, "Daddy knows best." You shivered from her words and tried to ignore the way they seemed to travel through your body.

A harsh strike came down suddenly and you cried out pathetically and gripped on to the desk like a lifeline. The cane in harsh, random strikes after that, each one as unpredictable as the last and all of them hurting more.

Tears sprung to your eyes and yet every hit added to your arousal that filled you with shame. You were sure Natasha noticed it because every time you pressed your thighs together she kicked your legs apart again, surely seeing your wetness as she did so.

"That's it, sweetheart, it's done." Natasha cooed as she ran her cold hand over your throbbing ass. "You took it so well." You flinched from the contact but luckily she didn't linger too long on the broken skin, instead letting her hand drop further down.

You couldn't help the breathy whine that escaped your lips. "Perhaps too well." Natasha mused as her slender fingers glided over your glistening folds. You leaned back into her touch and was partly surprised that she let you, consequently slipping the tips of her fingers through your folds.

You whined louder at the teasing contact but Natasha withdrew her hands and instead smacked your pussy hard. You lurched forward and moaned at the impact.

"Come here." Natasha said but didn't give you much chance to respond because she gripped the back of your shirt and hauled you through the room. You stumbled the whole way but didn't dare question your teacher. She pushed you into the storage room, much to your confusion, until you stumbled into what felt like a table and the dim light flickered on.

Your breath caught in your throat as you caught sight of all the packed shelves around the room. There were more sex toys in the surprisingly small room than you could even process with more range than you could ever beging to fantasise about.

You admired as many as you could in the time Natasha stripped herself of her clothing and stepped infront of you to pick out a dildo to attatch to the harness she wore. Her eyes raked over the large collection and landed on one of the biggest with a confident smirk on her face. She grabbed the toy and some lube and stepped behind you again where she attatched the toy and prepared it with the lube before tangling her hand in your hair to hold you against the oak table.

"You like my collection, sweetheart?" Natasha asked as she ran the strap through your folds. You hummed vaguely, too caught up in the thought of her using the toy on you.

"Answer me, slut." Natasha said lowly and thrust the strap in.

You moaned loudly as your teacher pushed more of the inches in and you squirmed beneath her. She gave another harsh thrust and burried the rest of the strap in to your pussy.

"Well?" She asked teasingly as she withdrew the toy only to slam it back forwards harshly.

"Yes!" You cried out as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Yes what?" She tested.

"Yes, daddy!" You moaned in bliss and desperation.

"Fuck, this pussy's so tight." Natasha smirked above you, no doubt knowing the slight buzz of pain you were feeling at the stretch of her toy. You moaned in response as she continued to thrust the toy in at a merciless pace.

You were so lost in the overwhelming pleasure Natasha was giving you you were unaware if anything that wasn't her or the toy. Even the cold surface of the table pressed so harshly against you had slipped from your mind. So it was no surprise you didn't hear the heavy footsteps entering the room.

"Evening, Danvers." Natasha greeted and your eyes snapped open. You tried to look back at who ever Natasha was talking to but she gripped your hair tighter and held your head down against the desk making you whimper.

"You finally did it, huh." Came the voice from behind you that you definitely recognised. "And I thought you were chicken shit." She mused.

You whimpered when you felt a hand snake down to your clit and rub the neglected spot slowly. But it was gone barely a second after it came.

"Wait your fucking turn, Danvers." Natasha spat at the blonde but you whined desperately.

"Please, daddy!" You begged, missing the contact instantly.

"I think the little whore wants me more." Carol chuckled and Natasha snapped her hips particularly hard at her words.

"Oh but she's going to cum all for me now, aren't you, y/n?"

"Please, please!" You begged more as Natasha's pace increased and you moaned more frantically, still trying to get a look at the blonde.

"Fucking cum." She demanded and at that, you lost all control. You clenched around the fake cock and trembled on the table as the brutal waves if your orgasm washed over you again and again.

But to your distraught, Natasha pulled the strap out as you came and effectively ruined the full effects of your high. You whimpered again at the loss but your legs felt too numb to fully do anything about it.

"Don't be so ungrateful." Natasha warned as she slapped your pussy making you jump slightly.

Carol stood infront of you as she started to unbuckle her belt and freed the strap she had been packing underneath.

"You're gonna use that slutty mouth to get my cock ready for your pussy now, Princess." Carol explained as she tapped the head against your cheek. You happily obliged and opened your mouth for the strap that Carol wasted no time in easing in.

She held your head in place where Natasha had let go and pushed the strap against your gag reflex. You coughed around the toy but the blonde shushed you as she kept pushing forward in a thoughtful silence, admiring the tears that sprung to your eyes.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." Carol muttered as she withdrew the strap slightly only to snap her hips forwards to effectively fuck your mouth. "You want it in your slutty hole now?" She asked with faux sweetness.

"She'll take whatever you give her." Natasha mused. You looked up and saw her in a dark red chair against the wall facing you, her eyes glued to your form.

Carol slipped the strap from your mouth when she deemed you had done a good enough job. It glistened in the dim light and disappeared from sight when your other teacher strolled back behind you.

You locked eyes with your red headed teacher as you felt Carol's presence behind you. Natasha pulled something from the cabinet besides her that you instantly registered as your amateur cigarette and the little tobacco that was still in the bag. She chuckled at the rookie joint you had made yourself but you didn't have much chance to feel any embarrassment or annoyance because the woman behind you gripped onto your hips tightly and pushed the entirety of the toy in in one thrust forward.

You moan was bordering on a scream at the action. Carol set about a merciless pace that rivalled your other teacher's and had you trembling instantly. You gripped on to the edge of the table tightly and babbled incoherently about how good it felt and pathetic pleas not to stop, all of which Carol had no issue aiding. She pounded the strap into you and revelled in your pleasured cries all while you tried desperately to hold eye contact with Natasha.

The red head was looking through her cabinet again until you brought out a box of Humidor cigars that probably cost more than a year at your school. Your cheap tobacco had been thrown to the side as she lit the expensive cigar all while smirking at you and your limited responses to her.

She brought it up to your lips with a knowing smile but you had no energy or ability to make an annoyed comment about how unfair the teacher student hierarchy was because Carol's pace seemed to increase.

"Don't stop!" You managed to cry out to the blonde. You clenched around the strap desperately as your breathing increased and.you could feel your high approaching at a fast rate.

"Cum, slut." The blonde ordered and with that, you fell apart again. You bucked back against the strap as Carol fucked your through your orgasm and kept going. You were becoming sensitive from the intense pleasure you had been feeling and all of a sudden it became too much.

You thought Carol stopped when she pulled out, but she swiftly flipped you on to your front and sunk the strap back in. Your head threw back as you moaned lowly and instinctively wrapped your legs around your teacher's waist to help you handle her deep thrusts.

"I want to see you cum this time." Carol said as she eyed you greedily.

You felt a pair of soft lips meet your exposed neck and turned your head away more to give Natasha's wandering lips further access. Her hands crept up under your shirt and massaged the soft skin contained by your bra. She pinched your nipples as she sucked and lightly nipped at your neck, all while the blonde continued to fuck you into your next orgasm.

You gasped before giving a long moan in relief as your third orgasm washed over your body. You trembled in the women's gripped as they guided you through your high that had you seeing stars.

Your head fell back against the table with a light thud as you tried to steady your breathing.

"Fuck." Carol smirked as she combed her hair back away from her face and grinned down at your body arrogantly. "We're going to have to do that again." She sighed as she pulled the strap out slowly making you whine.

"You want that baby? You want to be our secret slut?" Natasha muttered into your ear and bit down gently. You groaned and nodded your head in response.

"Please." You whispered, your voice going hoarse.

"That's a good girl." Natasha praised as her hand wandered down your body again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @toastisawesome13

Join a taglist

[butwhatifidothis]

Okay. Say...ten things positive that you like about edelgard go.

A whole ass assignment lmaooo alright I'll try

I do have to preface this by saying that I view Edelgard as a villain, and as such some things I view as positive are going to seem harsh, but they are genuine things I like about her character

Her confidence. She "knows" she's right, and she very boldly stands by what she says once she stops lying. She also is very sure of her ability to win anything, hence her immense confusion when she doesn't. Watching a character be so sure of themselves is very engaging imo

Her supports with Dorothea. I've said before that these were Edelgard's best supports if someone wanted to se a side of her that wasn't the warmongering imperialist that actually felt genuine (unlike any of the shit with Byleth that felt forced as fuck), and I still stand by that. These are the only ones I can feel like Edelgard could have been a different person had things gone differently for her

Her fearlessness. I won't call it bravery because I feel there needs to be fear in order for one to be brave, which I don't think Edelgard has. Instead, she just... yeah, doesn't have fear lol. She stands up against big things (like a GIANT DRAGON MAD AT HER) with her full chest and with no thought of failure (going back to her confidence)

Her stubbornness. She will not turn away from what she initially started, no matter what and no matter who she is up against. Her choosing death over defeat/admitting she was wrong is very intriguing from a character standpoint

She's fuckin' hilarious. Like no joke, some of the shit she says pre ts has me rollin' lol, she's so serious and that juxtaposes amazingly with everything else

Her dynamic with Claude. I do not seriously ship Edel/Claude (because I have standards), but man, the way these two just do not vibe with each other damn nears circles back around to making them click really well, at least in a joking way. I really like how pre ts they were able to keep up with the other's verbal jabs and how in post ts that still stays, just grown into something far more hostile

Her relationship with Dimitri. Just. Tragedy personified. Them being some of the last good memories of childhood the other had before their worlds fell apart and them becoming enemies, Edelgard rejecting Dimitri's offer of peace to stand by her ideals (circling back to her stubbornness), it really elevates both characters imo.

Her ability to lie. Like, Claude is often seen as the deceptive one of the lords, and he isn't a slouch in that department to be clear, but man does Edelgard shoot his ass out of the water lmao, she lies ways far more often and about far more devastating things. She's able to keep a straight face when outright lying to anyone, even to the person she wants by her side and has feelings for. Even if we look back in hindsight and see how obvious she was being, I doubt that many players were able to pick up on these obvious signs on their first playthrough (I damn sure didn't at least lmao)

Her willingness to live - no matter what. Edelgard, in the end of the day, wants to live to see her dreams and ambitions come to life, and she is willing to do anything to make sure that she does live to see that day. Running from battle when she's beaten, hiding behind her citizens, holing herself in her throne room, it sets her apart very distinctly from Dimitri (who does none of these things) and Claude (who runs from battle but never hides himself, whether behind citizens or walls).

Her presence. To me, Edelgard is someone you immediately notice in a room. Sure she's a tiny lil' acorn, but she doesn't really feel as though she is - I regularly forget that this girl is actually small as shit and accidentally imagine her as someone taller, just because she feels as though she is. It's the opposite feeling I get with Ashe - I regularly forget that guy's as tall as Claude and always always always imagine him shorter than he is lmao. Edelgard makes a statement! She's not someone to ignore! There's a reason my sis calls her a honeypot, and it's partly because she's able to grab people's attention very easily

[kae-karo]

fic writer interview!

i saw @prince-liest do this and thus i will take ur 'tagging anyone who wants to do this' seriously lmaoooo (also hi btw hope ur well!!! 💜💜)

How many works do you have on AO3?

ahaha,,,,,159 lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

fdsjkkjlsfdklj as of today, 2,089,769

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

only three fsdjkldslfkj the phandom (dan&phil), bnha, and genshin!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

chosen (x) - zhongchi (genshin)

to love (and be loved in return) (x) - kaeluc (genshin)

little bird (x) - dabihawks (bnha)

feet don't touch the ground (x) - xiaoven (genshin)

i knew you were fire (x) - dabihawks (bnha)

honestly none of that surprises me except that little bird is still up there, although i think i owe that to sif (@the-final-sif) for sharing it around the time it got posted since it was partly inspired by her raptor stress grip post!!

the rest are all chaptered fics, which is mostly what i expected to be in the top 5 lmao

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yes!!! always!!!! no matter what u comment, i will respond!!! and if i don't, it's probably cause ao3 didn't notify me properly or i didn't see it in my inbox or something

as for why, it's mostly to do with like...i know how hard it can be for some people to comment, even just a bunch of heart emojis or a 'i loved this!' or something short and simple? and it means a lot to me that ppl are going out of their way to say something nice, no matter how small, and it's really really important to me to acknowledge that

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

hmm,,,,,this is a hard one, cause for a very long time, my policy was that my fic would always have a happy ending? and for a long time, that was true!! but the dabihawks interaction (during the raid) broke me, and from an emotional standpoint, i think freeing icarus (x) is probably the one that has the angstiest ending of the two or so that i wrote in that time?

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

u know i really haven't written any crossovers? it's normally not my thing cause my brain typically focuses on a single thing and doesn't really have the capacity to think about more than that, so i end up writing just au-style or fusion-style (shoutout to that one bnha but it was scooby doo fic i wrote - x)

i don't think i'd be opposed to writing a crossover but i'd have to be SUPER inspired by the idea and both fandoms lmao

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

aha yes, i have. the only straight up hate i've received was on a kaeluc fic (surprisingly not because it was kaeluc, but bc i was 'mistreating' kaeya in the fic) - to be entirely fair, the commenter pointed out something that i hadn't realized myself, and it led to a second piece of the story that helped me tie up some loose ends, but...let's just say they weren't very kind about their feelings lmao

other than that, i had someone very upset because i didn't tag which character was bottoming in a fic (valid if that bugs u!) and they read through most of it before getting to the smut (and said that they enjoyed everything up to that point) then said they were 'disgusted' by it. i have opinions on that and a few other comments they made, but i will keep them to myself lmao

and beyond that, just a few ppl on my xiaoven fic saying that they were unhappy about the background kaeluc (which is tagged lmao) - really no hate whatsoever til genshin, honestly, which is...very hmmmm :) lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yep!!! mostly vanilla or vanilla-adjacent lmao i'm not super into heavy kink, although i know if epi reads this she's gonna call me out for being a monsterfucker bc of my dragon!zhongli smut :) lmaoooo but really i tend to write pretty vanilla smut! i also prefer to avoid any noncon/dubcon or hate sex or anything particularly angsty, just not my jam to write!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hmm i don't think so? although i don't heavily monitor ao3 (or wattpad/ffn), so i can't really say that for sure lmao

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!! i've had a few fics translated to russian (little bird is one of them!) which is very sweet and i hope that anyone who prefers to read in russian has been enjoying those fics!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

alksdfjklsdf only once, and it's deadass how me and rose got together. we decided to co-write a podcast au fic for the phandom (x) and ended up flirting via google docs asldkfjkldsfj

What’s your all time favourite ship?

what a horrible question, making me choose between my children like this!!!! sdlfkjdskf tbh i'm not sure i have a real answer bc it changes as i go? and 'favorite' is so vague,,,,,favorite to read? to write about? to think about? asdklfjkjsdfk i really don't know if i have an answer, but i'll maybe say kaeluc for now lmao

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

well first and foremost, with only 2 exceptions, i never post a fic unless it's done. i tend to follow wherever my passion leads my brain, so i'm notorious for jumping around between stories and taking breaks from long fic and returning later on to finish them, and i know that i would not do well under the pressure of posting something unfinished and trying to finish it in a timely manner

that said, many wips sit in my google doc folder, but one is Well Known as the one that has followed me through both the phandom and bnha (rose keeps asking who i'm gonna switch the chars to in genshin, but i think it suits bakudeku too well to do that) - only the lonely survive. it sits at like 36k in my wip folder, and i adore the story dearly and i want very much to finish it, but it never makes it quite to the forefront of my motivation, and so it rarely if ever gets worked on...i hate the idea of 'never' finishing it, but it's unfortunately quite likely that i won't 😭😭😭

What are your writing strengths?

emotion!!! and immersion!!! it's my goal in a fic to make it as immersive as possible and saturated with emotion to help convey that feeling of being in the place of the pov character, and i think i do it pretty well. also just bc i feel a little obligated to say it - another strength is actually sitting down and putting words down. i know that's a struggle for a lot of writers and i often get,,,,lovingly bullied? i guess? lmao for being able to bash out a few k in a day most days

What are your writing weaknesses?

this isn't so much a weakness i guess but i am basically incapable of treating crack fic as crack. if i have a cracky idea, it will, without a doubt, end up turning into a Perfectly Serious fic somehow (notable 'crack treated so seriously that it's no longer crack' fics include: todoroki doing the freeze-the-ocean thing from frozen 2, 'shmigaraki', todo and denki get together bc of vine references, the league sells feet pics, shiggy and natsu own a nightclub/bakery, scooby doo but make it bnha, and dabi getting his ears pierced at claire's)

but in all seriousness, i think my main weakness is that i often get comfortable? and i'm not one to typically push myself forcefully out of my comfort zone when it comes to stories that i come up with on my own, which often means that ideas inspired by discussions with others are what prompt me to branch out and try new things?

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think, like anything, it has its place? there are certainly stories where it makes sense to do that and even adds depth to a story, although i personally am not exceptionally comfortable enough with other languages (except maybe asl) to do that in fic myself without the assistance of someone very comfortable with that language lmao

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

the phandom! not really my jam to write rpf anymore but it definitely got me started and i'm really grateful for my time writing there, as everyone was super supportive and kind, and it was really a perfect place for a beginner to get comfortable and practice

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

again, forcing me to choose between my children...i really don't know that i can pick one fic bc they all exist in such wildly different spaces? i poured my worldbuilding soul into the king of disaster series (mainly dabihawks - x), exile (dan and phil - x) was my first massively long fic, our hearts are heavy burdens we shouldn't have to bear alone (chayea - x) is probably my favorite character/character dynamic study, i'm exceptionally proud of the smut in chosen (zhongchi - x), the list goes on and on and on lmao like. i could probably list half my fics as favorites in some regard dsflkjdfsjkl

anyway, tyty bellamy for putting this on my dash so i could do it as well!!

tagging: literally anyone who wants to do this, i have so many writer friends slkdjfjklsdf but please please tag me if u do it so i can read urs!!! 💜💜💜

[yusuke96universe]

Turles and Lord Slug Team Up Pitch

Introduction

Hello guys, after watching MasakoX's What If Turles Turned Good parts 1 and 2 [which act more like an origin story for him within the frameworks of modern Dragon Ball similar to Super Broly] I thought I would share an old headcanon origin I had for another Dragon Ball Z movie Villain, Lord Slug and how it could make for an excellent part in this What If story that has captured my imagination. Also, it opens up a lot of potential avenues for ood DBZ storytelling.

I know he's considered one of the most uninteresting Villains in the franchise since he is essentially King Piccolo from space, but rushed in an hour long movie. Let's face it, a lot of DBZ villains aren't inherently interesting characters and usually are introduced as Pure Evil tropes

Trope Talk: Pure Evil https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-XprjlATEo

Irrelevant backstory

very simple motivation

enthusiastic, zestful villainy

Pure self-confidence

Third -Act Breakdowns (where they are faced with what they truly fear and usually fail)

Afterward, they could be open to becoming a more nuanced character to explore as we've seen done time and again with cast of redeemed or evolved villains in Dragon Ball

A lot of the movie villains from the franchise would be more interesting if they weren't rushed or were expanded on and boy does Lord Slug bring a lot to the table if he is expanded on.

1) You could have Turles and Lord Slug form a dynamic duo that counterparts Goku and Piccolo. Turles is a trouble-making youth-filled underdog who has taken a shine to the crabby old man that is Slug. Turles could use a lot more modern methods to contrast Slug's far more traditional warmongering that he's developed over the centuries. (They did it a little in Xenoverse 2, but you could really expand upon it in a MasakoX styled What If) Plus, the Tree of Might likely has the ability to restore Lord Slug's youth since it canonically resurrected fossils, so Turles literally has the solution to Lord Slug's main problem plaguing him and is an open-minded businessman by nature. This hypothetical team-up of working together to gain more power, invade planets for their resources and overthrow the Universal order by killing Frieza before returning to enemies, acts as an inverse counterpart of Goku's and Piccolo's initial alliance against the Saiyans invading the Earth interfering with Piccolo's own conquest, but opened the doors for change in him and others.

2) Most likely these 2 would start off as enemies and have their forces face off against one another, but this struggle is a good thing in the long run because they could potentially provide each other, their own personal Third Act Breakdowns or at least teach each other recognize their own flaws and weaknesses to help each other grow as characters.

Lord Slug's backstory, retooled

Planet Slug

The most fun thing I found was that they gave Turles a proper origin story to build a character around, well I have a suggestion for a similar concept for Lord Slug that I think you guys could use in many different ways, but before that. Here are the facts. In the backstory I found in supplemental materials, it is stated by Guru that Lord Slug and other Evil Namekians could have possibly escaped the crisis on Namek and moved to far-flung planets in other parts of the Universe. One Super Namekian named himself after the Demon inhabited world he found himself on, known as Planet Slug. And judging from the movie, Planet Slug is most likely an icy or snow-covered planet since the Demons needed special suits to withstand the Earth's temperature.

By the way, I imagine that Planet Slug and its people could have a Mongolian theme. (I have a sketch I did for an alternate costume for Slug, but I don't remember how to post atm)

If say Lord Slug came to this planet and eventually took it over in the King Piccolo style, then I could see him having birthed a clan of Evil Namekian children to help him in this endeavor. So let's say there are about as many Namekians children as Guru or King Piccolo birthed, then they are likely different clans of Namekians on the Planet, including a Dragon Clan member capable of creating their own set of Dragon Balls. In this way, Planet Slug could act as an alternate substitute for Planet Namek, but one closely resembling how the team initially pictured Namek as a planet full of evil Piccolos, instead of the peace-loving farmers of Namek. Now, why would Slug be in space expanding his Empire and searching for Dragon Balls when his planet likely already has a set? In the movie, it's best not to think about it, but here is my idea.

Why Lord Slug is REALLY in Space

One of Lord Slug's offspring usurped him from the throne due to his old age and sickly body. So Slug was humiliatingly forced to flee his home or was looked down on as a non-threat banished him and his most loyal men off-world to live in shame and to never be seen again. So he is conquering other planets, partly because he is a refugee, but mostly because he is overcompensating for his lost and trying to help his ego by living in denial and reassuring that He is the Baddest Baddie who ever lived and terrorize/kill those weaker than him as he ever expands his empire, lamenting his old age and sickened body. He believes that if he was in his prime, he could take his throne back no problem and make them all pay for wronging him. Luckily, Slug doesn't need the Dragon Balls to regain his youth. If the Tree of Might's Fruit is capable of reviving fossils, it should be able to restore the Super Namekian to his former glory once again.

Turles's Crusher Corps vs Lord Slug's Army

A fun way they could introduce the factions to each other is as competition for a lush planet. Turles wants it for the Tree of Might, and Slug wants to freeze it for them for their conquest. They both are in each other's way, so they all fight it out. I think Slug has stronger minions, but Crusher Corps have better teamwork, and with Turles being in prime fighting condition, he would tip the scale in their favor much like Goku did in the movie.

At first, I thought Slug wouldn't be much of a match for Turles in his old and sickly state, a little trouble sure since he is the strongest, but that aged body wouldn't do him any favors. However, the first Google search result I got on Old Slug's Power level said he was at 79,000 so he's stronger than I first thought. (I thought he was around Nail's power level roughly in the 40,000) I also heard that Turles was around 19,000 but by the end of the movie was like 300,000. These power levels don't mean too much when reimagining the stories, just that Turles might have more of an uphill struggle. So, Turles would first have to eat some Fruit to win in a landslide and hopefully, the Terrafreezing process didn't ruin the Tree of Might's process.

Right before the killing blow, Old Slug might've mentioned something In desperation to save his own life. He could've brought up the Dragon Balls on his home Planet Slug/ Namek could grant any wish he wanted. This is just enough to stop Turles from following through with his attack, but it takes a little more coaxing for Slug to sell the legitimacy to Turles. A part of Turles thinks this might just be hogwash, but if this is anything like the Tree of Might, this could be a huge find. Another game-changer. He has his men take Slug with them as he checks in with the Heaters' database and finds there could be a kernel of truth to this tall tale. So Turles generously spares the old Slug's life for this useful tip which is met with some impatient ire.

If you hate being old so much, why don't you just use these Dragon Balls of yours to make yourself young again? -Turles

I would if I could, but... but I can't. I've been banished from my homeworld by my own children after they usurped me from my throne.-Slug

hahaha So you're just some washed-up old geezer trying to feel tough by throwing your power around at a bunch of weaklings. -Turles

Watch it! If I was in my prime, I wouldn't have ever let that rebellion get that far and even made short work of you and your men. If it weren't for that Fruit of yours, you'd be nothing. -Slug

WHAT WAS THAT. (composes himself) Interested in the Fruit are you, well I am not naive enough to let you ever sink your rotten teeth in one. At least, not for free. We, the Crusher Corps, are branched off of the Heaters' group who are known to deal in intelligence. If you have some more valuable information to pass on then, I could be convinced to trade off a leftover Fruit from our latest venture. Do you have anything else to offer me, old man?

(Slug’s low growling sounds are giving Turles just the biggest shit-eating grin on his face)

Slug could tell Planet Slug's coordinates, could act as their guide, or how to use their Dragon Balls, or even that they need a native speaker to use them and a password.

Turles throws him a Fruit as he is a businessman and honors his deals. This not only works in reviving the Elder Namekian, but the results are far better than expected by restoring Slug to his prime. Turles is both impressed and a little unnerved by this so he opens up a dialogue as he scans Lord Slug's new power. (he thought it would add a few decades back onto his old life since he seemed ancient, but it straight up made him young again) They discuss what had just happened and Turles's operation using the Tree of Might's Fruit to amass enough power for him and his men to kill Frieza and possibly overthrow him. Lord Slug in the meantime has been enjoying his youthful appearance and renewed vigor during the conversation, not looking Turles in the eye, but still expressing interest in this operation and compliments the plan. Turles offers a proposition to Lord Slug to join them on this endeavor if he helps them get those "Dragon Balls" he mentioned right before.

That's right. You're interested in the Dragon Balls, are you? Well, I am interested in that Tree of yours. It could keep someone young and strong forever, and this whole operation of yours is simply remarkable! -Slug

So you're in? -Turles

Remarkable enough for me to take it for myself! So I'll be doing just that! - Slug

Round 2 Super Namekian Rampages

The Super Namek overwhelms all of them, even Turles, after just eating a bunch of fruit, the gap is just too wide. He sadistically tortures them and strikes fear into their hearts. Turles isn't just put on the backfoot, he ends up on the brink of life and death. He needs to reach down deep, and something in him snaps, could be his Saiyan pride, could be becoming helpless and at someone else's mercy, could even be one of his men, that unbeknownst to himself, he had grown fond of perished, his regret for overly relying on outside gains to accomplish his ambitions. Don't know, don't care, but something doesn't sit right with Turles and this something acts as the catalyst for him to transform, but not into the traditional Super Saiyan we've all come to know. No, Turles goes into the False Super Saiyan state and overwhelms the Super Namek almost beat for beat like FSSJ Goku vs Slug from the movie, but this time, it lasts the duration of the fight. It's more of a SSJ Goku vs Frieza kind of fight with Turles's victory.

Turles diet of Tree of Might fruit has affected his body's genes and so when he transforms it's not the traditional SSJ form like everyone else, but the False Super Saiyan state that Goku used against Lord Slug. (The Saiyan loses their pupils and also uses SSJ's original color scheme with the flickering red and black hair and the orange skin with a lingering Aura effect) They could have a lot of fun with the benefits and drawbacks this form and its potential evolutions could have. False SSJ potentially falls into the theme of using Fruit as a shortcut to power vs earning the power legitimately or as a simple means to contrast with Goku.

Post Fight ~ Alliance?

Slug doesn't die though, or if he does, Turles is smart enough to revive him with the Tree of Might's extract in a similar way as the fossilized twins were. The reason is simple, Turles believes that Slug's knowledge of his people is going to be essential in the nearby future, and since he's shown whose boss by dominating the Super Namekian, they can now work together to overthrow stronger enemies like Frieza by using his Planet's Dragon Balls. The Crusher Corps gets a guide and an ally; Slug gets his revenge and the prospect of taking Frieza's empire for himself by joining this operation is too much for him to pass up. This is a temporary truce to defeat stronger opponents and gain power, but once that is over, they are going back to killing one another similar to how Goku and Piccolo formed an alliance against the Saiyans invading earth.

1) A Super Namekian could exploit their race's fusion ability through some method of Mind Control like in the original Broly movie. So Slug or his evil offspring could literally absorb one another or even someone as powerful as Nail or Piccolo if the influence is strong enough to join together. And Turles with the Heaters' resources might just be able to provide a means to provide Slug this, with some precautions of course.

2) Slug might have knowledge of Kai and Demon Realms considering he is both an older Namekian like Guru, and the fact that he Planet Slug is literally inhabited by Demons, a different breed of Demons, but still Demons nonetheless. In the games, the Tree of Might's Fruit had its effects amplified in the Demon Realm, but the same might be said if the Tree is planted on the World of the Supreme Kais or Beerus' planet. It's just a possible option for later down the line, but if there was ever a planet that could sustain that Tree and boosts its effects it would be one of these places.

This is it, I know MasakoX likes to do the space opera thing with multiple factions and also like to mix things up from the original story from time to time, so I thought Planet Slug would be an interesting means to do so and giving Turles a partner to bounce off of is typical Toriyama writing, could even open up new avenues to explore.

Am I expecting this to happen. Honestly, I have low expectations MasakoX and his team would do this and they got their own plans of inserting Turles into the main story likely connected to the character in the hood (who is probably Zamasu for some reason like in the Gero What If) or one of the Saiyans from Turles' team or even eager to get him into the main story with the Z-Cast, possibly trying to win Gohan to his side, but getting converted by him like what happened to Piccolo, but I don't mind. My expectations are low, but my hype is through the roof, and needed to share my fan theories with someone.

[heeytwelve]

A mundanity that creeps into your very soul

Insidious Humdrum is he most intriguing and controversial character in Simon Snow books. It also one of the main characters of “Carry On” book, and, (as unpopular opinion) - he is still appears in “Wayward Son” - he mentioned by Simon, Agatha, Penny, Baz multiple times as nightmarish memories. 

I believe Humdrum will make his appearance in third book and I want to dig on why he is so important in “Carry On” set and why Simon might be not quite done with him.

Humdrum is “official” antagonist of the first book, the prophesy which gave Simon “The Chosen One” title also implies that his only mission in life is to banish the Greatest Threat of World of Mages.

It’s important to notice that Simon himself is not really invested in fighting Humdrum, he strangely detached from his life mission:

“When the Humdrum comes after me, I fight him. When he sends dragons, I kill them. When you trick me into meeting a chimera, I go off. I don’t get to choose or plan. I just take it as it comes. And someday, something will catch me unawares or be too big to fight, but I’ll fight anyway. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore—what is there to think about?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”  Think about it - he never create strategies, he never tries to understands what is it he tries to fight with, he never initiate the battle, he accepts battles, when he can’t avoid them.  You’d think that he just escalate this part of job to The Mage, but then, (say to compare with HP) he doesn’t exactly bothers The Mage with questions or he doesn’t try to find out what Humdrum behaves like this and what is he plotting. 

Oh, yes, plotting. See, we could say  - you know, Simon is just like this, he’s quite passive, he hates to think or take action, but it’s untrue. Simon, in fact, has 3 antagonists: first one is Humdrum, which was given to him, second one is Mage (which as Voldemort in HP both created him and destroyed) and third is the only one antagonist he actually chose - Baz, the handsome vampire. Because Simon chose him (and Baz accepted). it is this antagonist he is really fighting and very passionate about: he thinks about his plotting every day, he cracks his secret/superpower, he finds his weakness and “defeats” him. Simon is capable of active fighting, thinking and strategising.  

WHY Simon is so NOT invested in fighting Humdrum?

Let’s take a look at Humdrum and Simon, using Penny’s method, aka - what do we know, here I gathered a small table of data for these two:

So clearly, you can see that Humdrum is very unusual antagonist. Yes we can see that like in many pairs protagonist-antagonist there are a few opposite qualities of them, and it’s normal, it is trigger to fight dynamics. But at the same they are sort fig leaf to hide from Simon (or reader) who Humdrum really is.  Humdrum - is Simon’s doppelgänger. And that is VERY important, let’s look at this from writer point of view, it is not your usual antagonist-just-a-person-who-have-opposite-beliefs-or-hates-you-for-some-reason. This antagonist is VERY attached to protagonist, he is in fact his continuation. 

WHY would you want to write exactly this type of antagonist, what do you want to say?

I have multiple answers to go through.

1) To show Simon’s complexity. To show _protagonist_ complexity and somehow preserve the certain image of him. In “Carry On” Simon (at least for me as a reader) associated purely with soft and positive features, he is the definition of the good and kind hero. Yes, he’s impatient and short tempered, but he is empathic, he is thoughtful, he cares about most of the people around (he protect and shield his _chosen_ enemy, Baz. He won’t end him without second thought when he finally has opportunity - the scene in catacombs), he doesn’t hold grudges or avenge betrayal, he always tries to think above the things, see the whole picture, kinda look past himself. It is very high EQ and it is my dream character. But realistically for kid who had no one to raise him to love and understand people; with tough childhood - it is impossible to have no dark sides. Again, remember how annoyingly for reader neurotic HP would be in books? Well, guess what, his dark side is still in a book, it’s just detached from him, to not spoil his image for reader. Perhaps, because at this point (introducing the character) his dark sides are not allowed to make impression and they are not important YET. 2) To allow protagonist to do things he want to do, but can’t. This is “Jekyll and Hide” type of protagonist and yes, this is fair for Humdrum too. He destroys things and doesn’t feel bad about it. He “mundane” and again, he doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t have to go to magic school and still - he is known, strong, dangerous. But most importantly - he can express his negative feelings. He is unhappy to be forgotten - he attracts attention (quite brutally); he is unhappy to be the only one who left to deal with trauma - he reminds about it - he summons Simon exactly at the place where bad things were happening (Lancashire) and he takes the form Simon probably tries to push away from his mind; he dislikes Mage - he talks to the Mage harsh and dismissively and laughing at him; the only people which Humdrum snatches/damages away from Simon are Agatha and Baz - it might be some sort of jealousy expression, and surely he express his jealousy about Simon’s skill and development. And IF he really hates the magic - he sure express his hatred good too, by literally destroying and he allows himself to feel pleasure from act of destruction (the face expression Simon never saw on his own face). And often, this reasoning for introducing doppelgänger goes with implying that protagonist has hidden desires to not be as good as he currently is. What doppelgänger does, it is what protagonist secretly desires to do.

To sum this these 2 points  - they _usually_ lead us to the point that protagonist is not as good he thinks he is. And while it is partly true - I believe, it is NOT Humdrum purpose. 

3) While Humdrum is surely threat to magic, is he Simon’s antagonist, really? Does he hates Simon? Do his actions have purpose to destroy what Simon have/created? It is a big no, to all these questions. 

Humdrum is metaphor for Simon’s trauma, he tries to shove away from himself.

Many people talk about Humdrum in the book, but most informative are - Penny, Mage and Baz, Simon and Humdrum himself.

Penny, I believe, is an author’s reflection in the book, so her words are clues), and she tell us - that Humdrum face is his real face (he is Simon), he’s childish and Simon’s dealing with negative emotions frustration/fear/annoyance/going off brings him joy (genuine childish laugh). She also tell Simon, the reason why he have to fight Humdrum - cause he the only one who can (and have to) do it.  Which is true. Mage - who is the real Simon’s antagonist and evil in the book - is the one who setups the reality “Humdrum is evil, you have to fight it”. Which can be easily translated to “Your feelings/experiences are not valid, you have to get rid of them”. He also setups example of not being important as a person, but being important as a weapon, to sharp your blade constantly if you wish. 

“Look at me, Simon. Have you ever known me to indulge myself with a normal life? Where is my wife? My children? Where’s my house in the country with my cosy chair and a fat cocker spaniel to bring me my slippers? When do I go on holiday? When do I take a break? When do I do anything other than prepare for the battle ahead? 

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

Again - it translates to these old methods of dealing with trauma: fight it, ignore it, experience more trauma to make yourself numb. It doesn’t work. Mage doesn’t care about Simon. But in a way, Simon follows his instructions.

Baz - he is the symbol of healing love Simon needs (one of his defining quotes is “I chose you” - returning Simon everything what was taken away by Mage at that point)  he have experienced Humdrum only one time, but it’s enough for him to figure it out precisely. He understands that Humdrum is Simon (or his part) and he does not hesitate to confront Simon with it, because it is important. And he the one who tell Simon the aftermath of ignoring Humdrum. Baz is the one who - finally - triggers Simon to act. He also the first character who sees Simon (and Humdrum) and accepts them as whole. And still loves him.  Simon - he doesn’t talk about nature of Humdrum a lot. He hardly bothers to describe fighting scenes in a past. But he clearly indicates how he avoids Humdrum, thinking about Humdrum, thinking about time he will need to deal with it. He doesn’t want to have any touch points with it, even when he’s confronted about it. He shouts at Humdrum when he sees his own face on him, but he never thinks that Humdrum is him. Because it’s all painful. Humdrum - is pain he released and locked himself out of it. That is why he reluctant to deal with Humdrum, though it his life mission. He only do it if he have HAVE TO. And then - he will take the pain/fear/negatives and lock it in Humdrum again (make magic holes bigger) and leave. So he can stop thinking about him again. And finally, Humdrum. He thinks a lot, he has time for it. And he know exactly who he is. And when Simon is ready, when Simon’s is finally ready to face him by his own will, he tells him who he is:

“It’s the Humdrum,” I say. “It’s you on the day I found you.” His eyes are wide and soft. “My boy—” “I’m not him,” the Humdrum says. “I’m not anybody’s boy.” “You’re my shadow,” I say to the Humdrum. I’m not afraid of him now. “More like an exit wound,” he says. “Or an exhaust trail—I’ve had loads of time to think about it.” “The Insidious Humdrum,” the Mage whispers. “It’s a crap name,” the Humdrum says, bouncing his ball. “Did you come up with it?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

He is willing to talk about himself and all this scene he is strongly communicating on Simon’s side, but not on Mage’s. He behaves like he is Simon’s ally and they have the same goal. He’s open about his wishes (to evolve, to be like Simon, to be the one with Simon), he is open about what happens if Simon’s continued to follow the Mage’s instructions ( “He’s right. End everything. All of the magic.”). 

The scene of dealing with Humdrum doesn’t feel like Humdrum eliminating, but more like becoming one with him, finally accepting what was shoved away, belated debts payment. It is very sad but beautiful scene.

“I’m sorry that all the good stuff happened after I left you.”

“The Humdrum puts his hands over mine and gives me a small nod. His jaw is set, and his eyes are flinty. He looks like a little thug, even now. I nod back. I give it all to him. I let it all go.”

At the end - Humdrum and Simon became one, like it was before Simon first went off and got his magic at 11 year. Now he back to the same state and next book he is dealing with trauma (not the way he should, unfortunately). 

Maybe the key of getting powers back is to learn how to live with Humdrum and not ignore him. To accept yourself, to find yourself. Maybe use Humdrum powers too. “Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

p.s. The negative power of sucking off magic reminded me about Dementors in HP a bit, in a way, that’s what made me think about Humdrum as trauma or depression. At the same time, sometimes, Humdrum would show us, that he is still a doppelgänger of Simon’s and have the same thoughts  - like his phrase about “it’s it better than fighting” about Baz is quite the same as Simon’s.

[qobiin]

those bluest skies above me

pairings: lan wangji & everyone (lwj&lxc, lwj&nhs, lwj&lqr, lwj&nmj), background nielan

genre: angst, fluff | dragon lan wangji au, pre-canon

warnings: implied/referenced non-con (concerning madam lan), canonical character death, injury, mild blood, shifting, scenting, lan sect being not so good

a/n #1: written for the MDZS Big Bang 2020! the title is taken from steven universe's "that distant shore" bc i feel it bodies lwj's thoughts about wwx perfectly. thinking of the dragon dynamics similar to how abo works will help you with understanding them, but to be clear: there is nothing sexual going on in this fic. madam lan's story has so many gaps that bother me a lot bc when i look at the gaps i see a backstory like the one i gave her here since it's just what makes sense when you really think about it. the non-con is only talked about somewhat in-depth in one scene and mentioned briefly across other scenes afterward. if you want to skip the heavier bit of it, stop reading at "Then why, Lan Zhan asks with his eyes." and pick back up after the art that minzi made to accompany this <3 hope you enjoy! 

words: 25291

summary: Lan Zhan’s memories begin from the moment he hatches out of his shell and meets his mother’s golden gaze.

part one of gentleness of light, escaping 

Lan Zhan’s memories begin from the moment he hatches out of his shell and meets his mother’s golden gaze.

He only has to take one look at her to know that she is the one who laid his egg. She is the one who made his comfortable nest, who sat with him every day until he was ready to hatch.

Even for a dragon, Lan Zhan is certain that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. Her scales glimmer under the candlelight. Dark blue, green, and brown surround him as her golden eyes glow.

A young boy sits on the edges of Lan Zhan’s nest but still within Mother’s embrace. He looks almost as beautiful as their mother, even if he isn’t in dragon form himself. There is an ornament tied above his eyebrows that gleams when he moves and matches the liquid silver of his eyes.

There is no mistaking that this small boy is his brother. He can smell his mother on the boy’s skin and in the air displaced when his dark hair moves. He can see their mother in the curve of his brother’s smile and the awe in his gaze as Lan Zhan finishes slithering out of the broken remnants of his shell.

Lan Zhan stares at them both, transfixed and loving every image his eyes relay back to him. He makes a rumbling sound in the back of his throat, feeling content and loving his mother and brother more than he could ever hope to describe. His mother mirrors his rumble and his brother’s brows furrow before his expression clears as he smiles again.

His thoughts at that time are fleeting and underdeveloped, his memories are crystal clear but hold no further insight. This is something that an older version of him will miss when his memories are only plagued by questions and doubts. For now, however, his mother helps him clean his scales then scents him thoroughly.

Her whiskers brush against his snout only once and when Lan Zhan sneezes, his brother laughs. His laughter is soft and tinkles wondrously in the air around them. As the sound begins to fade, Lan Zhan decides he will do whatever he needs to do so he can hear his brother’s laugh again. Mother wordlessly guides Brother through appropriately scenting him as well and Lan Zhan shivers under the soft human hands his older brother is trailing over his face and neck.

His sire is nowhere to be seen.

(Later, Lan Zhan will be grateful for this. For the moment, however, he focuses on spreading his scent all over his weyr in return.)

Gold and silver quickly become a favorite of Lan Zhan’s.

For the first two years of his life, Lan Zhan always remains at his mother’s side.

He sees his brother only once a month and decides very quickly that he dislikes how little time they get to spend together. Brother smiles and laughs often when he is with them but Lan Zhan gets the sense that this is the only time his brother smiles and laughs so easily.

Lan Zhan dislikes that too.

His mother is beautiful and warm despite the cold river that runs through all three of their veins. She is gentle when needed and appropriately harsh in her reprimands. Lan Zhan has much he wishes to learn and he does not begrudge the discipline she hands out to him when he does something unbecoming.

He is much stronger than humans. His brother, though as much as their mother’s son as Lan Zhan, only has one form which just so happens to not be a dragon. Lan Zhan has to be aware of his strength at all times lest he hurt Brother or any other human who does not deserve it.

Even if his instincts are not as strong as Mother’s, partly in thanks to his sire’s human blood diluting most of the traits she passed down, Lan Zhan strives to practice caution at all times. His inherited instincts also do not excuse him the few times he allows them to override his thoughts and Mother, though loving, does not hesitate to put him in his place by pinning him and growling until he submits.

In their weyr, Lan Zhan is not the Head. Lan Zhan is a Claw, and maybe when he is much older, he will become the Head of his very own weyr but that is not the case now. Neither Lan Zhan nor his Head is a fucanglong who takes their hoard and hides it from the world like a jealous lover, but Brother is the only Treasure in their weyr. It is expected of Lan Zhan to guard him as well as he can even if he is the younger sibling.

Lan Zhan pushes himself to absorb as much information as he can the first year after his birth. Many of the things he learns make him angry, others are simple facts he memorizes quickly to keep everyone around him safe. He practices his strength, practices not calling upon elements to do his bidding when his emotions threaten his control. He practices remaining calm, staying alert, and always being conscious of how much damage he could carry out if he were to ever lose himself.

Control is difficult, but Mother knows enough about his nature to direct his instincts and impulses where they are needed in order to keep him present and non-threatening. In both her first and second forms, Mother shines as bright as moonlight and Lan Zhan loves her as much as he loves Brother.

That is why it is easy for Lan Zhan to shift into his second form once a year has passed since he first hatched. For his weyr, Lan Zhan finds himself able to do anything as long as it benefits them.

He is much smaller than he is accustomed to in this new form of his, but when he sees the joy and relief in Brother’s eyes the next time he visits, Lan Zhan finds this development welcome. Brother can pick him up easily in his new form and he still kisses Lan Zhan on the forehead as often as he did before, rubbing a hand over his hair where his horns would usually be.

The gentleness that now accompanies his brother’s movements soothes the urge Lan Zhan has to bury so he does not suddenly shift back into his first form. If he were to shift too quickly, he could harm his brother and that is one thing Lan Zhan never wants to do.

Lan Zhan can walk without much difficulty in his second form but speech is harder for him. He sticks to monosyllables and pointing, for the time being, brightening each time Mother and Brother interpret him correctly. Even if his ability to speak is worse than most human children his age, Lan Zhan is content with being understood by his weyr.

His thoughts come slower to him as a human and he at first feels like he is going to burst back into his dragon form at any moment. It is difficult to remain in his second form, but after a fashion, Lan Zhan is easily able to consciously shift between both his forms. Mother’s golden eyes gleam with pride and happiness as Lan Zhan’s growth continues. Even when sadness begins to lie in the shadows of her gaze and scent, her pride and love for him envelop him in their midsts gently.

He does not understand why Mother grows sadder with each passing day until two years have passed since Lan Zhan first hatched. Brother visits them that day as he normally does but he arrives accompanied by a man who introduces himself as their uncle. Uncle explains that he will now be taking care of Lan Zhan and his brother full time instead of Mother and Lan Zhan is no longer allowed to stay with her in seclusion. The Clan Elders believe that Lan Zhan has learned most of what he requires to live a peaceful life without his draconic tendencies interfering and he shall now be brought into the Gusu Lan Sect good and proper to be raised alongside his older brother.

His instincts do not want to be far from the Head of their weyr. Lan Zhan himself does not want to be taken from Mother, but she is his Head and Brother is their only Treasure. He must protect him in their mother’s stead and if that means he is only allowed to see Mother once a month from now on, then so be it.

It doesn’t shock him that Brother does not look happy after hearing this news. Still, there is a sharp line of resignation in his shoulders that tells Lan Zhan all he needs to know.

If it were up to Brother, neither of them would ever be kept from Mother. Mother would be living with them wherever they wished to go just as long as they were together. Unfortunately, this matter is not being left to Brother so they will have to make do with what they can since it does not seem like the Head of their weyr will do something to keep them with her either.

Brother hands a box to Mother who opens it, angling it so Lan Zhan is also able to see the white ribbon identical to his brother’s own lying within. Lan Zhan kneels before her, both of them in their second forms as she ties the ribbon around Lan Zhan’s forehead. She fixes his hair and presses a kiss to the ribbon once she is done, the slant of her mouth loving and unhappy at the same time.

Lan Zhan pokes at the familiar clouds adorning his ribbon and nods, showing his acceptance of these turns of events.

He still cries that very night in his new shared quarters with Brother. He does not make a sound as he weeps, more than sure of the fact that he will be punished if anyone that is not his brother catches him at this moment. Just because he accepted being taken away from Mother does not mean he enjoys this. His acceptance does not change the fact that he is only two-years-old and is being kept from his mother.

Brother wakes only to slide into his new bed beside him and scent him until they both fall asleep with a shared longing for their mother inside their hearts.

Uncle does his best, Lan Zhan knows.

It does not change the fact that his instincts wail and weep to see the Head of his weyr every day. That one day a month is not enough to satiate the ache and longing within his four-year-old body to see Mother. That Lan Zhan is a Claw and is not ready to become a Head in his mother’s place just yet. That Lan Zhan still does not know everything he should to steadily curb his instincts until he has found a way to balance both sides of his blood.

Brother’s instincts are weaker than Lan Zhan’s own but he knows his brother still feels them within his darkest depths.

Lan Zhan is only allowed to shift back into his first form twice a week and he always makes certain that he is allowed to shift in the presence of his Head. He frequently finds himself schooling his expression so no one except Brother and Mother may know what he is feeling. He might not be as tall or as imposing in his second form as he is in his first, but that doesn’t mean he will make it easy for others to take advantage of him.

Many of the children close to his age tend to avoid him in the children’s hall because of his supposed lack of feeling. Lan Zhan doesn’t mind. He likes the distance kept between them, especially since he still has not tamped down the urge to shift into his first form when he is drastically startled. Knowing that the fragile, weak human children around him aren’t staying too close is comforting in case his grip on control ever slips. Nevertheless, Lan Zhan finds this unlikely to happen since he guards himself against his baser instincts with a viciousness that surprises his own mother.

It shouldn’t surprise her though. Not when considering the whispers trailing after him that the Clan Elders think he cannot hear. Lan Zhan has excellent senses, only further improved in his first form. Even when he accompanies Brother and Uncle to the cold springs far away from the areas most of the residents of Cloud Recesses pass through, he can hear the poison dripping from their mouths.

They want to show him off to the cultivation world. They want to use him as a threat against the other Great Sects. They want him to lose control so they can punish him and make an example out of him. They want to say, Look at what we did to this dragon and her offspring. Look at what we have the power to do to everyone with these dragons under our thumbs.

Lan Zhan is young. He is much too small in his second form when considering the way he feels. He improves in controlling what expressions flit across his face. He gradually enhances his ability to tamp down on his feelings instinctively calling out to the elements around him when he is overwhelmed. He is polite and cordial to Brother and Uncle in public, but as affectionate as he can be when they are in private quarters with no risk of being interrupted. He learns to meditate, learns about the reassuring joy of music, and picks up the guqin. Due to his golden core forming while he is still so young, Lan Zhan is now considered a prodigy in his own right.

Lan Zhan is many things, but he is not ignorant. He can always smell the terror that shadows every interaction people have with him and how they recoil whenever he moves too quickly or gives off an aura much too powerful for a newly turned five-year-old child. He is never able to disappear from other people's awareness no matter how much he wishes it. Because of this, he never once presents himself as anything less than the perfect Lan every disciple in his sect strives to be. Especially not where others are able to see and somehow use it against him in the future. His status as a prodigy only further alienates him from the rest of his sect members and as a result, loneliness is something he has quickly grown used to.

The three thousand rules that the Gusu Lan Sect is infamous for become his word of law, his guide in this dangerous territory. By all rights, Cloud Recesses is Lan Zhan's. He is the first dragon to be born here on this mountain, up high in the sky. By the rights bestowed upon him through his mother's blood, this makes the area his. Makes the people who live here fall under his jurisdiction and protection alike. Cloud Recesses should be his, but it is not.

The Clan Elders are the ones with the power here and Lan Zhan is not going to give them a reason to put him down.

When he explains this to Mother on his next monthly visit, she cries. She weeps and sobs and pulls him into her frail arms. He wants to remind her about the rule concerning excessive sadness but decides to bite his tongue. Now wouldn’t be the time for that.

So he lays his head against his mother’s shoulder and wraps his arms as far as they can go around her, holding her as tightly as she is holding him. The Head of his weyr crying brings him no joy or comfort, but Lan Zhan is at least glad that Brother fell ill yesterday so he would not be subjected to their mother's tears along with him.

"A-Zhan, my poor A-Zhan," she murmurs into his hair.

Lan Zhan understands that Mother is sadder than most, that her dragon spirit is slowly dying with each passing day she spends away from the earth and rivers that bore and nurtured her. It is why he learns as much as he can from her.

Mother tells him about the different kinds of dragons. Tells him that no matter what their different aspects may be, every dragon has a bit of fucanglong in them. She tells him Grandfather's name and that since he was a fucanglong, Lan Zhan will have more of that in him than others of their kind would. That she has much of her father in her no matter that she was born the same as her mother since she hatched in the roaring rapids of a river. That Lan Zhan is a shenlong made for the rain and clouds that frequent Gusu Lan, even if Mother herself is a dilong who misses the earth and her river and is not meant for the skies like him.

"You hatched on this high mountain and in these clouds. That is why you are a shenlong, A-Zhan. A dragon's being is determined by the nature they hatch in, not the nature they inherit from their parents," Mother says, her voice soft and clear despite her tears. "But never forget that you will also have a bit of me and your grandfather as well. You enjoy visiting the cold springs often, correct?"

"Mn."

"The cold springs settle the urges I passed down to you when there was nothing more than a delicate shell separating you from this world," Mother explains. "Water does my bidding, but both water and wind will do yours. A-Zhan, it may one day be the reason you fly. Not all shenlong do, not even most, but I have a feeling you are capable of it."

Lan Zhan nods, understanding this as fact. He knew most of this already and guessed the rest but hearing it relayed back to him from his Mother settles the feelings within him.

Mother smiles and presses a hand to his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. Lan Zhan blinks and suddenly feels the urge to cry as he realizes that while he may be able to indulge his safer and more basic urges, the Head of his weyr cannot. Mother is confined to this house hidden within the back slopes of this mountain with no river or large body of water nearby. The sitting room is only big enough to accommodate her first form if she coils up around the table they sit at for tea.

Why is she here in this house hidden high within the clouds?

"What's wrong, A-Zhan?"

Lan Zhan blinks rapidly up at his mother, opening his mouth to speak before he loses his nerve. "Why are you here?"

His Head sighs, her fingers now carding through Lan Zhan’s hair. “I am meant for the earth, for the firm press of dirt, the freshly tilled soil, and the winding rivers that always lead back to the sea. Not the sky. Not the clouds, winds, and rain that you are meant for, A-Zhan.”

“But⎼” Lan Zhan begins to say, not liking the implications of his mother’s words one bit.

“Let me finish, A-Zhan. This is not something I ever planned to tell you at your age but we are different from regular people. You are already beginning to understand your place in this world, and it would not be fair of me to never share with you how the circumstances of your birth came to be,” Mother speaks right over him, smiling when Lan Zhan meets her golden gaze with furrowed brows, both of them thinking of the rule forbidding one to interrupt others.

Lan Zhan huffs out a breath he will deny is a sigh and nods his head once more, eyes still locked onto his mother’s own. “Mn.”

And so she tells him. Tells him of how when she was still a whelp, Grandmother was captured by the Jin Sect and killed for her beautiful scales. That Grandfather was, understandably, furious about this but she was only sad and confused. That she never understood how humans could ever trap a being as powerful as Grandmother. That she did not think that could ever happen to her, especially not after Grandfather hid her with his other Treasures.

By this point in her story, her gaze is wistful and far-off. “Baba took us underground and hid us from the rest of the world for our own safety, but I was unhappy. I was still young and I ached for the rivers that ran above our heads. I wanted to explore and see this world for myself. I could not survive under Baba’s rules forever, so I waited. Baba left to hunt one day and I took that as my chance to escape. I had always planned to return, but now I will die without ever having Baba’s scent on me again.”

“Mother,” Lan Zhan rasps, his eyes already itching.

Mother continues, acting as if Lan Zhan has not spoken. She tells him of posing as a rogue cultivator for some time after first joining the cultivator world. How she used the money she received from the night hunts she completed to buy herself a sword. Forming a golden core wasn’t a task too difficult for her, just as it was not difficult for Lan Zhan either. Those like them are very intelligent and have always had enough patience to test even the Great Immortals the cultivation world attempts in vain to become.

Here Mother bends and presses an absent-minded kiss to his forehead ribbon, quickly resuming from where she left off in her story. “I was in Caiyi Town when I met your father, A-Zhan. He was young and handsome, but he smelled all wrong to me. He claimed he fell in love with me from the moment our eyes met, yet I have never loved him.”

Then why, Lan Zhan asks with his eyes. His Head sniffs, her eyes watering again.

She explains that not too long after meeting his father, she decided to try alcohol for the first time before she left Caiyi Town and moved on to the next night hunt that was calling her name. The inn she was staying in claimed their brew was the best in all the Great Sects. She believed it would be acceptable for her first try, so she ordered a jar with her usual dinner in the inn’s public dining area. One of the Clan Elders was there as well, sitting a table away from hers, drinking tea and doing nothing else. Mother says that she did not think anything of it at the time. She was more preoccupied with the alcohol being stronger than she had first been led to believe. Soon enough, she was intoxicated and stumbling around, trying her utmost best to return to her room by herself.

The innkeeper had offered to help her up to her room once it was quite clear that she was inebriated, but the Clan Elder insisted that he would do it instead. Mother only agreed because she knew she needed help and he had seemed friendly enough to her. But once they reached her room, he did not drop her off at her door like she thought he would. He refused to leave as she struggled to shift into her first form to defend herself from his attack. The alcohol had made it difficult to focus and she had been attempting to shift ever since she first realized the Clan Elder was not going to leave her alone as she had hoped. She knew there was a way to use her golden core to burn the alcohol out of her system, except the enormity of her emotions did not allow her to think clearly.

“I have never been able to forget that man’s face,” Mother says, her eyes wide and blown with the depths of her pain. “I planned to leave Caiyi Town not long after that until I found out I was with child. There was no doubt in my mind that man was the father.”

Lan Zhan does not know what to say. Since the moment he hatched, he believed he and Brother to be the results of his Mother’s strained marriage. Now he finds that to be false. Brother and he do not share the same, exact blood.

Knowing this somehow sparks a wave of insurmountable anger within him. The depth of the anger he can feel burning in his chest both terrifies and reassures Lan Zhan. He has never been angry before, not like this. Not to the point where it feels like his rage could swallow him whole and churn him back out completely changed. This type of response is unexpected, of course, but he finds it valid nonetheless. His mother was hurt, and his brother was a product of that hurt meaning, in a way, Brother was also hurt by this.

“Brother is not…” Lan Zhan decides to ask before he trails off as he realizes he is unwilling to finish his question.

“A-Huan is your brother,” Mother says without hesitation, her voice firm and leaving no room for doubt. “His father may have hurt me, but I love him as I love you. He is not your half anything, A-Zhan. A-Huan is your brother because you are both my sons. He inherited many of my physical traits in this form, so much so that no one would ever suspect you two of having different fathers. That is what your uncle said to me before he took A-Huan away.”

Knowing all of this somehow makes the angry, vicious pit in Lan Zhan’s chest feel all that much worse. He has always known that Mother’s seclusion had been forced upon her as a form of punishment. The full implications of this had never quite registered until now though. Lan Zhan could never pinpoint what rule she had broken that was severe enough to warrant her level of punishment. Rule-breaking and Mother had never gone hand-in-hand to him, not when both she and Uncle had been the ones to instill such deep respect for the three thousand Lan Sect rules within him.

Something was missing from the picture before and now that a part of it has been given to him, Lan Zhan almost wishes he had never paid attention in the first place.

“The Clan Elder…” Lan Zhan trails off again, unsure of what he means to say exactly.

Mother understands though. His Head has always understood him when his words tended to fail him. “I killed him for what he had done to me. It was mercy in my eyes. Baba would have done so much worse if he had ever found out. Others saw differently, however.”

She stops there for a moment, her gaze uncertain. Lan Zhan nods, determined to hear this through until the end. Even though he does not know what the Clan Elder did to his mother exactly, he wants to know if that man’s death is the reason Mother is imprisoned here. Mother takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, tears tracing down her cheeks silently.

“Your father was already the Sect Leader by that point. He convinced me to marry him. He said he would protect me and your brother. I agreed even though I feared he might do to me what one his sect’s elders had done, but your brother was already one of my Treasures by then, A-Zhan, and a Head keeps their Treasures safe,” she sighs, gently wiping Lan Zhan’s tears away with her thumbs. “I never understood the position Baba was in until I felt your brother’s heart beating within me. I knew he was not going to be enough like me to keep himself safe. He would be born mostly human and I did not dare shift into my first form lest it harmed him in any way. I had to keep him safe and no one believed me when I told the other Clan Elders why I killed one of their own.”

Mother is crying again, her words trembling as she rambles. “No one but your father and uncle accepted my words as the truth. Your father put me here and then secluded himself due to guilt and grief alike. I had killed one of his sect after all. No matter how awful that man had turned out to be, he had influenced your father and uncle a lot as they were growing up themselves.”

“Mother,” Lan Zhan whispers. “You need not continue.”

But his mother only shakes her head, pressing onward. “I had A-Huan here and only got to hold him for a few moments before he was taken from me. His monthly visits began at the same age yours did. He had never seen me before but he knew who I was from the moment our eyes met again.”

Her breathing is even when she says, “I decided to give your father a child some time after that. I am his wife in nothing but name, A-Zhan. It troubled me that this man who claimed to love me but I did not love in return would endure so much trouble and pain for my sake. I felt guilty, so I disrupted his seclusion in the middle of the night and made my intentions clear. He was unwilling at first but eventually agreed.”

Lan Zhan almost smiles when his Head’s nose wrinkles, a tiny scowl marring her tear swollen face. Her tears have stopped for the moment, but Lan Zhan is certain they may return soon enough when Mother says that his sire still smelled all wrong to her. She did not love him, no matter how much he loved her but there was something there within him that reminded her of the earth and rivers she had been kept from for so long.

She left before his sire woke up the next morning and later felt the urge to shift for the first time since Brother’s conception that very same night. She was hesitant at first, unsure of what could have been making her feel that way. Eventually, she gave in sometime after the curfew bells rang, still uncertain about what exactly was compelling her to do so.

“And what do you know?” Mother laughs then, the sound tired and small but still there. “An egg was trying to pop out of me! I was laying your egg, A-Zhan.”

Later she learned that his sire and Uncle had a small portion of dragon blood in them that could be traced all the way back to Lan An, Gusu Lan’s founder. For the first time in years, however, Mother was in her first form, making a nest for her egg after curfew.

Mother smiles then, something soft and loving in the curve of her lips. Lan Zhan cannot help but smile in return, reaching up to wipe his Head’s tears. She tilts her head down in his direction, golden eyes glowing with the warmth of her unabashed affection.

“Oh, you were so tiny in the beginning, A-Zhan. Your shell was so fragile that I worried myself sick those first few months thinking you would not make it, but here you are,” Mother says, cupping Lan Zhan’s face in between her palms as if she almost cannot believe it herself. “Here you are, my little dragon. My Claw and other Treasure.”

Soon though, her smile and the warmth in her eyes begin to wither. "I would have liked to tell you this when you were older. You are still much too young and I know this information will only burden and harm you in the long run, but I do not know how much time I have left and you deserve to know so you can keep our weyr safe. After I am gone, you will be Head, A-Zhan. You must keep your brother safe when I no longer can.”

She speaks up again before Lan Zhan can, looking straight into his eyes when she says, “I wish that I could have brought you into this world under better circumstances, that I could have brought your brother into this world the same way I did you. But I do not regret it. I do not regret having you two and loving you both as much as I do, A-Zhan. You and your brother are not only my Treasures but two halves of my Heart as well. Do you understand?"

Lan Zhan feels his breath catch. Does he understand? Yes, of course, he does. How could he not when being a Head’s Heart is so much more valuable than being their Treasure? Being Treasure means being well-protected, well-loved, and well-nurtured. Being a Head’s Heart means being a part of his Head’s very being. It means being loved down to the bare bones of his core with no exceptions.

It means being half the reason Mother’s heart could physically break.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Lan Zhan shifts into his first form and wraps himself around his Head. He purrs when she follows suit not too long afterward and they scent each other. Despite the new knowledge spinning in his head, Lan Zhan is happy to be here. Happy to be alive with the Head of his weyr, with the mother who loves him and his brother enough to do whatever she can for them.

Still, there is also the sadness and anger in him that he cannot shake. That clings to every breath he takes and lies in the shadows of his thoughts. He feels loved and guilty all at the same time and he isn’t quite sure how this can be.

What Lan Zhan does know without a doubt is that he is a Claw, Treasure, and half of a Heart. Brother is Treasure, the other half of their mother’s Heart, and from now on, Lan Zhan will protect him from this truth for as long as he can.

This would destroy his gentle brother and Lan Zhan is not about to let that happen.

Lan Zhan takes to the sky five years after his birth.

He has no wings, but it does not stop him from gliding in the air, skirting through the clouds he was born for. Sunshine kisses his scales as the wind blows through his mane, whiskers twitching as he loops around the mountain again.

It is peaceful up here in the sky with only the warm sun and biting wind to keep him company.

Down below, the Lan Sect members are bright dots clustered all over Cloud Recesses. The bravest of them wave their arms at him, but most turn tail to disappear indoors once they catch sight of him. Lan Zhan ignores them, eyes latching onto two bright dots standing near where he is certain he left his robes before shifting forms.

The thought has barely crossed his mind before his body angles downward and the air shifts until it is pressing him down gently. His claws skim the treetops briefly when he dips down low to land in the cold springs.

Despite their name, Lan Zhan has never quite felt the cold bite of these waters like his fellow sect members have. He lands gracefully on his first try in one of the larger pools with only a small splash and many ripples signaling his landing. Lan Zhan moves forward, using his legs to propel him to one of the shallower pools of water. Once there, he shifts into his second form and accepts the robes Brother hands him.

“How was it, A-Zhan?” Brother asks, the longing in his voice unmistakable.

Lan Zhan only pauses for a moment as he finishes getting his inner robes on before saying, “I will take you soon, Brother.”

Brother smiles, holding the first layer of his outer robes up. “Not until you’ve had more practice. It would be unfortunate if you were to tire yourself out halfway through our intended flight.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan acquiesces.

“Wangji,” Uncle cuts in then, drawing both his nephew’s attention as Lan Zhan finishes getting dressed. “How are you feeling?”

Lan Zhan mentally takes stock of his energy levels and the soreness located in his lower back. “Tired, but well, Uncle.”

Uncle frowns and beckons him forward. “Let me check. You have only just recovered and I know your arm has continued to bother you.”

Lan Zhan goes willingly. Uncle is strict and appears to be fussy all the time, but Lan Zhan is aware that is how Uncle shows affection. Of course, Uncle is not perfect but his faults are not enough to make Lan Zhan or his brother love him any less.

Uncle presses two fingers to Lan Zhan’s wrist, his other hand gripping Lan Zhan’s shoulder firmly to keep him in place. Lan Zhan leans into Uncle’s touch readily, head tipped back to study the look of concentration on his face.

It is unsurprising that Uncle is worried. After all, it was only a month before when the training accident took place.

(Lan Zhan is of the mind that it was not much of an accident at all actually, but the Clan Elders would hear nothing of it.)

Brother had been sparring with two older disciples in the sword training area while Lan Zhan spotted. Lan Zhan had not been worried at the time, Brother is very skilled in the six arts of cultivation but especially in swordsmanship. Sparring against older disciples is a habit of his brother’s, one that he indulged frequently. It was also somewhat of an unspoken rule in Cloud Recesses that if Lan Xichen draws his sword, then Lan Wangji will be found nearby ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.

Lan Zhan takes his position as a Claw very seriously. Brother knows this and huffs a bit when Lan Zhan stations himself nearby during sword practice but says nothing to discourage him from it. In a weyr, Treasures need to be protected at all times, no matter the cost, so it was not unusual for Lan Zhan to be present at that time.

Brother had been doing well against his mock-opponents. Too well if the frustrated looks on the older disciples’ faces were anything to go off of. Of course, Lan Zhan was also privy to the anger slowly building up in one of the older disciple’s scents.

As soon as he had caught a whiff of it, Lan Zhan’s hair felt like it stood on end. Something ancient struggled to spring to life in his chest, his senses focusing only on the spar in front of him. He had exhaled heavily, hoping to calm himself but left himself shocked instead as his breath turned to mist in front of him. Lan Zhan was unsure how that had come to happen but before he could think about it too much, the flash of a sword glare stole his attention.

From one moment to the next, Lan Zhan was standing in front of Brother, his unsheathed practice sword held out in front of him and his body caught between his two forms. His scales were all too clear around his neck and jaw, but none were found where the older disciple’s sword had just sliced through his arm. Lan Zhan had barely glanced at the blood seeping through his robes before he made a rumbling sound that lodged itself in the back of his throat and the disciples dropped their swords, scuttling backward in fear.

Even in his second form, Lan Zhan’s skin is tough and sturdy enough to not sustain most of the usual injuries normal children his age would receive. Brother, too, has this kind of protection and Lan Zhan is more than aware of that. It does not mean that they are invulnerable, but it does mean they are less likely to break when compared to others.

It still did not stop Lan Zhan from taking the blow that was meant for one of his Treasures.

If either of them were normal, that sword would have cut Lan Zhan deep enough to render his arm useless. If he had not stepped in, that sword would have run Brother clean through.

But Lan Zhan had. He had moved as quickly as the wind and put himself between his brother and the oncoming danger. He had stood there silently, uncaring of the blood dripping down onto his hand and staining his robes. He was in-between forms, but he had made no threatening moves in these boys’ direction, had not even unsheathed his practice sword. One of these boys had tried to draw his Treasure’s blood right in front of Lan Zhan’s very own eyes and he still did not lose control.

If Mother had been there, had witnessed one half of her Heart being attacked, there is no telling what would have happened. Lan Zhan, of course, still isn’t very sure he would not hurt those boys if he caught sight of them anywhere near Brother or Uncle again. There is a likely chance Mother would kill them if they approached Brother, but there is no chance that she would do so if they came near Uncle. Uncle is one of Lan Zhan’s Treasures, after all, not Mother’s.

(Brother told him that she, of course, approved of Lan Zhan’s actions and Lan Zhan’s claim to Uncle as Treasure, but her anger about the “accident” was not light.)

At that moment, however, Lan Zhan only pulled his arms back to his sides when Uncle arrived and placed a hand over his brother’s own on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Before that, Lan Zhan had been contemplating whether it was worth it to break so many of the rules and hurt these disciples no matter what punishment awaited him.

Violence is not something Lan Zhan has ever taken joy in. He knows his instincts are capable of drawing bloodlust out of him and he also knows that his strength would be enough to harm anyone he wanted without trying. If he was that careless, however, he would be losing face for both his family and his sect alike. Mother and Uncle have not raised him to give in to his instincts so easily at the first sign of a threat targeting his brother. His self-restraint and control are stronger than that.

So Lan Zhan had exhaled and calmed himself as he allowed Brother to escort him to the healer’s hall while Uncle berated the older disciples for their recklessness. Uncle had gotten their side of the story, nose wrinkling when they claimed it was an accident and Lan Zhan was merely overreacting. Lan Zhan had heard all of that and had almost spoken aloud to mention the rule prohibiting dishonesty that they were breaking, but Brother had gripped onto his shoulder that much harder and practically dragged him away before more blood could possibly be shed.

Lan Zhan’s arm was cleaned and bandaged minutes after they arrived in the healer’s hall. The cut was shallow enough that it would be healed by the next day. Brother had still winced when Lan Zhan’s robes were peeled away to expose the wound though.

By the time the healers had proclaimed him healthy enough to leave, Uncle had come through the door in a flurry of robes and angry fussing. Lan Zhan had sat there with Brother as they explained what had happened and if Lan Zhan had felt something cold get stuck in his throat as he spoke, then that was neither here nor there.

Uncle had taken the issue to the Clan Elders and they had, unsurprisingly, sided with the older disciples instead of the Sect Heir. Lan Zhan felt sick just thinking of how far the Clan Elders were willing to go to punish their secluded Sect Leader’s wife, no matter if it affected their own Sect Heir and future or not.

The older disciples are now in seclusion for the time being. Both as punishment and protection.

Lan Zhan was not punished severely for his behavior, but he was still assigned to copy the rules ten times after his injury had healed. He had quietly and gracefully accepted his punishment, making sure each brushstroke was careful and precise before he submitted his copies of the rules to Uncle when he was done. He was also barred from seeing Mother and when Brother left to see her for their next monthly visit, Lan Zhan played all of Mother’s personal favorites on the guqin.

Sometimes when Lan Zhan found himself passing a Clan Elder in the halls, he would clench his hands into fists at his side until his fingernails had left crescent marks on his palms. He would also unknowingly grit his teeth as he thought of how close someone had gotten to harming one of his Treasures. Uncle had caught him doing so only one time and now believed that he was experiencing phantom pains in his arm when really, Lan Zhan was remembering the cold, hard fury that had rushed through him at that moment.

“Uncle, I am well,” Lan Zhan says as Uncle finally releases his hold on him and steps back.

Uncle’s mustache bristles with the force of his frown but nods. “There is no harm in making sure, Wangji.”

Brother chuckles beside them and Lan Zhan feels his lips twitch at the sound before his expression clears again.

Out here in the cold springs where only a select number of people would run into them, Lan Zhan is still careful to not allow his emotions to show. Not when their peaceful bubble could be disrupted by anyone in this very public space.

Even if Lan Zhan is not open with the full force of his emotions, this is good too.

When he is six, Lan Zhan lies coiled before the door bordered by gentians and waits.

And waits.

And waits even more.

He lies there with tears in his eyes, his lungs squeezing as grief chokes him. He will not move until the curfew bells ring when he must slither back to the room he no longer shares with Brother. Brother has not been able to build the courage to visit the Jingshi, but even if he can no longer see his Head, Lan Zhan refuses to leave.

That morning, he had woken up thinking today and had been so overcome with tears that a strong gust of wind blew open the door to his quarters. Lan Zhan had been quick to fight down the urge to fly into the sky and never return. Even if he no longer has a Head to depend on, he still has a weyr of his own depending on him now.

But the Head of his weyr is dead. Has been dead long enough for Lan Zhan to not bear thinking about it.

Lan Zhan is too young to become the Head of a weyr, especially the one he has just inherited. He wants Mother back, wants her to open the door, and let him back inside. Wants her to kiss his forehead ribbon and tell him more about Grandfather. Wants his Head to tease him until she has managed to coax a barely-there smile out of him. Wants Mother to cup his face as her golden eyes glow with the depths of her love, but now he will never be graced with the sight of her smile or the sound of her laughter ever again.

Mother’s scent still lingers here and there around the Jingshi, her scent the most saturated in certain points. When the wind blows, he can almost convince himself that the small gurgling stream nearby sounds like her laughter. The gentians she adored continue to bud even as the weather grows cold and Lan Zhan wonders for a moment if they will always be what surrounds his mother’s tomb.

He focuses on the remnants of her smell and waits. He will wait as long as he needs to, so long as Lan Zhan can cling to his last memories of her.

Mother dies and a piece of Lan Zhan dies with her.

He remains in his first form for a full month after her passing. In his second form, it is too difficult to catch the echoes of her presence at the Jingshi. In his first, he can still smell her, can hear her in the gurgling streams, and can feel her where his heart should be.

Brother does not speak much to him that month. Instead, he sits beside Lan Zhan in what was once their room and practices his music cultivation when the quiet becomes too much. He moved into a room of his own not too long before Mother left them, old enough at nine for the Clan Elders to approve the arrangement. Brother had been excused from his usual lessons after Mother’s death but had shown up for morning meditation early the following week, his signature smile fixed in place only dimmer than usual.

Sometimes Lan Zhan feels sick looking at the forced, gentle happiness his brother is displaying for the world to see. Other times, Lan Zhan is happy that Brother drops his mask when they are alone.

Lan Zhan ignores the meals Brother brings along with him. He can go a long while without eating in this form, does not even need to drink water as often as is required in his second form as well. He is aware that Brother and Uncle are worried, but he remains in his room and breathes every painful breath knowing that Mother is gone.

Excessive grief is against the rules, Lan Zhan knows, but he is not breaking the rules by doing this. To him, this is not excessive. This is justified.

How can it be considered excessive when he is six-years-old and just lost the mother who he had been forcibly kept from for most of his short life?

Mother had given up both her freedom and life just to make sure Brother would remain safe. Mother had gone to Lan Zhan’s father and made him within a night, had put together a nest, and taught him all he needed to know to also remain safe.

She had known what would happen when she agreed to marry the leader of the Lan Sect. She would be kept from the earth and rivers that were her lifeline and would die so her Heart would remain safe.

How is Lan Zhan’s behavior excessive? Her punishment was not considered excessive. Her treatment was not considered excessive.

No one has the right to claim his grief as excessive.

For once, Lan Zhan is glad of the distance that separates him from others in the sect. He revels in the fact that many members of the sect are terrified of him. It makes leaving him alone that first month easy.

After all, no one wants to risk the wrath of a grieving dragon.

Many of his fellow sect members believe it to be a fact that Lan Zhan’s instincts could take control of him and force him to harm them if they happened to reprimand him during this time. They remember that sunny afternoon in the sword training area when Lan Zhan took a blade for his older brother and had shown his scales to the two older disciples who had “accidentally” aimed too close for comfort during a practice spar. They are convinced that they know what Lan Zhan is capable of, especially in his first form.

Lan Zhan, of course, knows this to be false. He has spent years tempering his self-control, reigning in most of his urges, and perfecting his ever-present blank facial expression. These people do not know him and Lan Zhan is glad because of that.

By the end of that month, however, Brother leads him to Mother’s abandoned house. It is close to curfew, the sun already having fallen for the moon to take its place. Lan Zhan is uncertain of where Brother is taking them at first until he realizes they are following an all too familiar path Lan Zhan would be able to follow blindfolded if need be.

He walks in the halls but as soon as they have stepped onto the dirt path leading further up the mountain, Lan Zhan allows the wind to carry him where they are going. Brother keeps a hand on his head to keep him steady by his side, silent as they trek towards the one place Lan Zhan was certain Brother would never visit again.

As they come around the last bend in the path, they find a man standing in front of the Jingshi. Lan Zhan believes it to be Uncle until he catches a whiff of the man and realizes that it smells all wrong.

It is Qingheng-Jun.

Lan Zhan does not want to be here anymore. He wants to leave and return when this man is no longer standing in front of the place he imprisoned the Head of Lan Zhan’s weyr. The Jingshi was always going to be Mother’s tomb and he had to have known that when he secluded her here.

Brother feels him tense under his hand, but he only grabs onto one of Lan Zhan’s antlers and nudges him forward. Lan Zhan goes, unwillingly, but he still goes anyway.

“Father,” Brother calls out after they have come to a stop a few paces in front of the Lan Sect Leader.

When Qingheng-Jun turns to face them, two things happen. One, Brother bows. Two, Lan Zhan gets a clearer sense of his sire’s scent and growls in response.

Qingheng-Jun reeks of blood. Every inhale that brings his scent to Lan Zhan makes his stomach roll and his mind rear back. Lan Zhan wants nothing more than to pick Brother up and retreat, to curl away from the darker instincts that are begging him to get rid of the source of this smell. Instead, he bares his teeth and holds still, waiting.

He is aware that Brother freezes beside him, still caught in a low bow. Qingheng-Jun only blinks at him before he smiles and a low chuckle escapes him.

“That was your mother’s exact reaction the first time she met me,” Qingheng-Jun manages to say after he has cleared his throat and before he turns to Brother and places a hand over Brother’s clasped ones. “Ah, and no need to be so formal, Xichen.”

Brother straightens from his bow woodenly, eyes on Lan Zhan when he responds. “Father, I brought A-Zhan as requested.”

Lan Zhan’s gaze snaps to his older brother, betrayal the only thing on his mind. Brother winces and shrugs subtly, a tight smile on his face as he meets Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“Thank you, Xichen. I must speak with you both. Wangji,” Qingheng-Jun says, staring pointedly at Lan Zhan’s form. “Will you be joining the conversation?”

He stares pointedly back, waiting to see what Qingheng-Jun will say or do once he realizes that Lan Zhan does not, in fact, plan to join the conversation. If his Sect Leader orders it, then yes, he will shift into his second form. Nudity notwithstanding, Lan Zhan will not disobey a direct order from the official Lan Sect Leader even if he is Sect Leader in name only.

(Although, Lan Zhan isn’t technically bothered by the nudity aspect either. He can smell his robes hidden in the qiankun pouch Brother is keeping up his sleeve. Brother knew what Lan Zhan would decide before he even brought him here, yet he is prepared for any outcome nonetheless.)

But if his sire is asking, then Lan Zhan will remain as he is. He knows filial duty is another rule he is meant to follow, but after breaking one, what is another? He does not want whatever this man is attempting to offer now that it is too late. Maybe if this man had ever visited him, had ever cared for him. Maybe if this man had never left the responsibilities of a father and Sect Leader on Uncle’s shoulders, had ever checked in with them once to see how they fared. Maybe if he had ever left his seclusion while Mother was alive, Lan Zhan would have given him a chance, but the Head of his weyr is dead and Qingheng-Jun has never been a part of their weyr and he will never be who Lan Zhan calls father.

When Lan Zhan was much younger, he struggled with these feelings. When Mother told him about how her marriage came to be, Lan Zhan realized he did not consider Qingheng-Jun as a part of his family. Yes, his mother’s imprisonment may have spared her life when the Lan Sect Leader first decreed it, but it only delayed the inevitable in the end. Lan Zhan can appreciate that he was given life half in due part to Qingheng-Jun, but a person does not become a parent simply for making a child. Caring for a child and nurturing their mind is what makes someone a parent.

That is why, so long as Uncle lives and breathes, Lan Zhan will never consider another man as his father.

Qingheng-Jun must realize this because he sighs and continues as if Lan Zhan’s stubbornness is of little to no surprise. Lan Zhan allows himself a brief second to feel smug about this before his attention returns to the conversation at hand.

“Father, why did you decide to come out of seclusion now?” Brother asks, his voice sounding no different than usual except for the slight tremor of uncertainty Lan Zhan knows Qingheng-Jun is not picking up.

“You misunderstand. I have merely taken a brief break from seclusion to see you both. I will be returning after this,” Qingheng-Jun explains. “I wanted to speak to you two about your mother.”

Lan Zhan rumbles out a displeased sound, unsure of what to classify it as. Brother stiffens beside him again, his smile strained. Their Sect Leader smiles once more, his scent smelling something like nervousness as he hesitates.

“What about our Head?” Brother rasps.

Before Lan Zhan can think better of it, he is pushing his antler more firmly into Brother’s hand. His goal is to distract him, to get rid of the pain and sadness in his scent that he rarely ever allows to show clearly on his face. Maybe Lan Zhan never smiles or expresses much of anything with his own face, but Brother’s ever-present smile is a mask all on its own as well.

Qingheng-Jun raises a brow in question. “Your head?”

A low growl escapes Lan Zhan once he registers the way Qingheng-Jun mispronounces their mother’s title. The syllables sound distorted coming from his mouth, the weight of them all wrong in the air between them.

“Head,” Brother corrects him, a wrinkle between his brows. At least Lan Zhan was not the only one who disliked his words. “Mother was the Head of our weyr. Now… A-Zhan is the Head.”

“Do you use their terms because you also feel those urges?” Qingheng-Jun asks then, his silver eyes glinting for a moment as he tilts his head to the side.

Lan Zhan does not like the edges their Sect Leader’s question is trying to hide. They feel too sharp, too loaded with an assumption he finds himself bristling at. Brother runs a hand down his snout, wordlessly asking him to calm down. Lan Zhan listens. His Treasure is asking something of him and Lan Zhan answers, pushing down the indignation he can feel building up from the tips of his claws. His emotions are easier to read in his first form since he has more practice concealing them in his second. He needs to improve on that soon.

Brother’s smile is tight again, his silver eyes heavily guarded. “I use these terms because I am a part of this weyr, Father. I was Mother’s Treasure. A-Zhan was our Claw. Now he is our Head and I am still Treasure. Uncle, too, is another Treasure.”

You are not a part of our weyr, is what goes unspoken.

Lan Zhan could cry from the happiness springing to life in his chest. He had always known that they shared some of the same instincts, but to hear Brother explain this so simply and succinctly to an outsider ⎼ because that is what Qingheng-Jun is. That is what he will always be while Lan Zhan is Head ⎼ soothes him down to his core.

No matter what, Brother is on his side. Even if he tricked him into meeting their Sect Leader out here after curfew, Brother is still on Lan Zhan’s side.

“I apologize,” Qingheng-Jun says when the echoes of Brother’s words have faded in the darkness around them. “I did not mean to offend either of you or the memory of your mother. I loved her, after all.”

It takes Lan Zhan a moment to realize he is not the one who growled in response to Father’s apology.

Brother’s teeth are bared, his silver eyes flashing in the moonlight. Rage, hurt, and sadness rolls off Brother’s skin in waves, but Lan Zhan does nothing to stop him. Brother has never been able to shift between forms but here under the light of the full moon with his Sect Leader and the Head of his weyr as the only witnesses, Lan Zhan thinks Brother may be able to reach the in-between point of his forms one day.

“How can you still claim that?” Brother manages to say, his voice unsteady, but Lan Zhan is more than able to hear what Brother is not saying, You secluded her here knowing she would die. You removed yourself from our lives entirely just so you would not have to see her wither slowly away and still claim that you loved her?

In the recesses of his mind, Lan Zhan is shocked that Brother would ever say anything meant to be contrary against their Sect Leader. He has always thought of his brother as more forgiving than him. When Qingheng-Jun has been mentioned in the past, Brother would visibly perk up with interest, soaking up any information he could about their absent Sect Leader. Lan Zhan was careful to remain indifferent. After all, why should news of a man he has never met matter to him?

Now though, with his brother truly angry and close to confronting their Sect Leader, all Lan Zhan feels is pride.

“Xichen, do you know why your mother was in seclusion?” Qingheng-Jun asks, his voice so terribly light that Lan Zhan feels the vicious urge to bite him.

Brother shakes his head, now trembling with the force of his anger. Lan Zhan nudges his snout into his side, scenting him in the hopes that it will help him settle. Qingheng-Jun only sighs, folding his arm behind his back as he begins to speak.

He tells Brother everything. Everything Mother had glossed over and implied to Lan Zhan a year ago is laid down at his and his brother’s feet.

Lan Zhan knows the moment Brother has come to the same conclusion Lan Zhan did about their different parentage when he abruptly pulls away from Lan Zhan’s touch. His hands curl into fists at his sides, his trembling now doubled.

The pain and horror in his brother’s scent punch the very air out of Lan Zhan’s lungs. Saltwater joins the mix of smells hanging in the air soon enough and Lan Zhan aches with the need to comfort his Treasure.

Qingheng-Jun finishes shortly after that, staring at them both as he waits. What for? Lan Zhan has no idea but he must realize he will not receive whatever it is because soon enough Qingheng-Jun is stepping away with a pained look in his eyes.

“This old one apologizes, but you both deserve to know,” their Sect Leader says before he nods in Lan Zhan’s direction and turns to disappear further up the dirt path.

Lan Zhan watches him leave, eyes on his back as the darkness swallows him whole. Brother’s shaking begins to subside as Qingheng-Jun goes, his body loosening of its own accord slowly.

Brother falls to his knees once Qingheng-Jun is no longer in sight. Lan Zhan finds himself shifting into his second form to kneel beside him without thinking. Even if it is unseemly to kneel when naked, Brother is in pain and it is Lan Zhan’s job to protect him. He was never supposed to learn about this, not this way.

It does nothing to change the fact that his brother is hurt now.

“You knew,” Brother chokes out. “You knew.”

Lan Zhan nods, opening his mouth to speak before Brother rushes to speak first. “Why did you let me believe that lie, Wangji?”

The use of his courtesy name is what finally cuts Lan Zhan. Brother has been calling him A-Zhan since he hatched and has never cared for whose company they may be in when using the endearment. Lan Zhan was a Claw and Brother a Treasure, but that did nothing to change the fact that Lan Zhan is his little brother.

“You are my brother,” Lan Zhan says without hesitation. His voice is raspy and hoarse from disuse, but his words are sure and steady. “You are my brother.”

“Half,” Brother murmurs, “Half-brother.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head furiously, reaching out to grab Brother’s shoulders. Relief floods through him when Brother does not pull immediately away.

Mother’s words go through his head at that moment and for lack of a better thing to say, Lan Zhan echoes them, “You are not my half anything. We are both our mother’s sons.”

Brother leans into his touch then, tears still streaming down his face. “That is not how the rest of the world will see it.”

“I am not the world,” Lan Zhan responds. “You are my brother.”

“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?” Brother asks after the silence between them has become too much.

Lan Zhan nods.

Brother stares at him for a moment, his tears crystalline under the moon as they cling to his lashes. Eventually, he reaches into his sleeve and pulls out his qiankun pouch. Lan Zhan stands and allows Brother to dress him, twisting and turning where he needs to so his robes lie against his skin perfectly. Brother fixes his hair and guides Lan Zhan’s hands through tying his ribbon.

He is not Lan Zhan’s parent, spouse, or child but he is Lan Zhan’s brother. They are not allowed to touch each other’s forehead ribbons, but they can put their hands over the other’s and move them where they need to go so their ribbons lie straight. It is a system they developed soon after Lan Zhan was taken from Mother and the fact that Brother is still willing to treat him the same as he did before means more than words could ever say.

“When did Mother tell you?” Brother asks, eyes elsewhere as Lan Zhan brushes his robes down.

“Last year,” Lan Zhan says, glancing up when Brother inhales sharply at his response.

Brother grips his shoulders and meets his gaze, tears springing to his silver eyes once more. “She should not have done so, Wangji. We are children who should not know of this until we are older. You especially should not have been told this before I was.”

Lan Zhan blinks in confusion, not understanding. “Mother did not tell me everything, but I knew we did not have the same fathers. Besides, I was a Claw and now I am the Head. I am supposed to protect you.”

Brother shakes his head and pulls him into a hug, clinging to him with all his strength as tears overcome him again. Lan Zhan holds on, hands no doubt wrinkling Brother’s robes but uncaring of that as his Treasure’s scent sours with sadness again. It is clear that Brother is willing to work his way back to how they used to be, but this revelation is too new and unsettling for either of them to act as they normally would.

Even though Lan Zhan is certain that they will get through this, Brother stops calling him A-Zhan for some time after that.

Now that Lan Zhan is back in his second form, the Clan Elders decide to keep him under close observation.

When Lan Zhan first returns to his regular classes, he is surprised to note the seven Clan Elders standing in the back of the classroom. As far as he had been aware, the Clan Elders were much too busy to bother with the education of the junior disciples. In fact, Lan Zhan would go as far as saying the Clan Elders do not care about any of the disciples unless they have broken an important rule or disgraced the Gusu Lan Sect in a very public manner.

So to see them sitting in on his classes immediately puts Lan Zhan on edge. He can barely pay proper attention to the lesson one of Uncle’s favorite assistants is lecturing them about, not when he can feel more than just the Clan Elders’ eyes on him.

For once, Lan Zhan finds himself despising his usual seat in the front of the classroom.

It takes Lan Zhan longer than usual to realize he has been called on and he feels his ears grow hot as he both dully recites the proper answer and tries his best to ignore one of the Elders huffing loudly in displeasure. None of the other junior disciples make a sound but Lan Zhan can smell the amusement in their scents well enough to feel embarrassed.

He maintains his perfectly proper posture anyway and forces himself to pay better attention to the lecture. During the noon meal hour, he will find Brother and confer with him about this. See if the Clan Elders have been dropping in other classes as well or if this is targeted at Lan Zhan alone. A way for them to say that they have noticed his recent behavior and now that it is safer for them to confront him, they will if need be.

Lan Zhan is nothing more than a child, but he has always known the Clan Elders are cowards. Only cowards would demonize a woman killing the man who violated her. Only cowards would give that woman a death sentence of her own, claiming it to be the just thing to do when it is anything but. Only cowards would confront a six-year-old child when they believe they have the advantage.

Perhaps they do have the power and the right to put him down but Lan Zhan is not his mother. Mother made certain that Lan Zhan would have many more advantages than she ever did, advantages he and Brother would both have even after she was no longer in this world.

The Clan Elders may have imprisoned her, but they did not strip Mother of all the political power she gained by marrying their Sect Leader and providing him with two Sect Heirs. They would need a powerful and unshakeable reason to strike one of their own Sect Heirs down, a reason the entire cultivation world would not fault them for.

At least, that is how Brother explains it to him later as they are leaving the central mess hall to attend their afternoon classes.

"Do not give them a reason, Wangji," Brother admonishes him when they come to a stop before they go their separate ways for class. "Embody the perfect disciple they desire so much. Get them to grudgingly accept your position here by whatever means necessary. They will never be fair when it comes to you or me, but that does not mean we have to make it easy for them either."

"Mn," Lan Zhan nods, bowing to his brother before he turns on his heel and leaves.

At the sword training area, four Clan Elders stand on the sidelines, safely out of any unpredictable young child's sword swing. Lan Zhan barely spares them a glance as he gets into position and waits patiently for class to begin.

For the better part of a month, Lan Zhan's classes are shadowed by a handful of Clan Elders. None of them speak a word to anyone present, but they make their disapproval known through loud sighs and disparaging grunts.

Lan Zhan learns their scents well and avoids them in the hallways whenever he happens to come across their trails. The few times he catches their scents too late, he shoulders their thinly-veiled complaints on the "ghastly sight" of his scales and the "childish behavior" he is much too old for now.

None of them will ever say it outright but Lan Zhan knows they wish to punish him for his so-called excessive grief which is why they are now hovering over his shoulder, watching his every move in the hopes that he will crack under pressure. Lan Zhan is made of sterner stuff than that though.

He is a dragon. He was born for the sky and clouds that blanket their mountain. Water and wind do his bidding alike. His Treasures accept him as the Head of their weyr without complaints.

He is his mother's son and his grandfather's grandson, Lan Zhan will not break under the weight of the Clan Elders' scrutiny.

This becomes more than clear the longer Lan Zhan is kept under their watchful eyes. He takes Brother's advice to heart and becomes even more of the perfect disciple he had always strived to be, first for his Mother's state of mind and now because he refuses to allow his feelings to be used against him.

Dragons and the Lan are alike in the way that they show their true feelings through everything except their words. Lan Zhan is both, so whether big or small, his actions are twice as potent. His emotion-fueled behavior will not be what takes him from his Treasures.

Brother lost one Head already, Lan Zhan refuses to let him lose two.

(Two weeks later, Lan Zhan wakes thinking today before he remembers. He spends the remainder of the day with a fierce ache burning through him as he kneels in front of a familiar door.)

Lan Zhan takes one glance at Nie Mingjue and thinks, Claw.

Nie Mingjue is a stranger to him in all rights. Brother has talked about him constantly when he began attending the guest discipline lectures, always with a softer version of his usual smile on his face. He tells Lan Zhan everything he learns about Nie Mingjue, never leaving any details out. Brother's scent tends to swell and ripen with the force of his fondness and admiration for the older boy but Lan Zhan says nothing.

Talking is not one of Lan Zhan's particular skills. Others may regard him as eloquent, but that is solely due to the fact that Lan Zhan only speaks up when he is certain of the words on the tip of his tongue.

So it is unsurprising that even though he says nothing about the thought that crosses his mind when he finally meets his brother's friend, Brother notices anyway.

Maybe it is because of how intensely Lan Zhan studies him when the older boy isn't looking. How he sniffs the air as he analyzes the way Brother and Nie Mingjue's scents are complementary to one another. Or perhaps how Lan Zhan not-so-subtly reaches out and grips Nie Mingjue's nape to scent him into the weyr.

Honestly, Lan Zhan has no idea how Brother figures it out so quickly but he accepts that Brother will always be one step ahead of him regardless and leaves it at that.

Nie Mingjue takes his strange behavior in stride, stiffening for only a moment when Lan Zhan first comes into direct skin-to-skin contact with him. Lan Zhan waits until the older boy has relaxed under his grip before reaching out and taking his left hand. Slowly, he pulls it towards his face and presses his cheek against Nie Mingjue's palm briefly then steps back and puts the appropriate amount of distance between them again.

Brother is smiling, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he steps forward and smooths a stray lock of Nie Mingjue's hair back into place behind his ear. "Wangji has decided that you are a part of our weyr now, Nie-gongzi. Welcome."

"I don't know anything about dragons, Lan-gongzi," Nie Mingjue admits, his face wrinkled with confusion. "I would not wish to offend you."

Lan Zhan squeezes Brother's elbow, silently urging him to talk in his place. If Nie Mingjue truly wants no part in their weyr, Lan Zhan will accept that without complaints. He will not hold the boy to something he can not personally be a part of.

But if the only problem here is a lack of knowledge, then Brother can be depended on to remedy that quite successfully.

(Lan Zhan personally wants Nie Mingjue to accept his role as a Claw in their weyr because he can already tell that there will never be another person better at protecting Brother than him.)

"I can teach you all you need to know and anything else you wish to learn about us," Brother assures Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue raises both his brows in surprise. "Us?"

Brother's smile does not falter but Lan Zhan can tell without looking that it is dimmer than before from the tone of his voice alone. "I may only have access to this form I am currently in now, Nie-gongzi, but I am my mother's son just as much as my brother is. We share her blood and a few of the same urges she passed down. On top of that, Wangji considers me as one of his Treasures and he wants you to be our Claw."

"And what is a claw exactly?"

Lan Zhan and his brother wince in unison at the older boy's pronunciation. They both relax as Nie Mingjue chuckles at their reactions, his face softer and looking less severe than it has during this conversation so far.

"Claw," Brother corrects him, emphasizing where it is needed so Nie Mingjue can understand. "A Claw is a protector of the weyr. They keep Treasures safe, act as enforcers when our Head demands it of them. Wangji is the Head of our weyr and Grandmaster Lan is another Treasure."

Brother pauses there for a moment, turning his head to meet Lan Zhan's gaze. The corner of his mouth twitches, his right eyebrow slightly elevated as he tips his head ever so slightly to the side. Lan Zhan allows his stony expression to soften as he nods, humming his verbal agreement to leave Brother with no doubts about his decision. Brother's smile wobbles before it evens out again, blushing a very soft pink that Lan Zhan is certain no normal human would ever be able to notice.

"In other words," Brother turns to Nie Mingjue with a firmer grasp on his emotions. "My brother wants you to protect his Treasures."

Nie Mingjue blinks at them both, his scent spiking with embarrassment and pleasure all at once. Lan Zhan watches him closely, meeting his eye when the older boy's gaze lands on him. He knows this is very sudden and a lot to ask of someone he has only officially met today, but Nie Mingjue is Brother's closest friend and Lan Zhan's brother does not have very many friends.

What Lan Zhan knows of Nie Mingjue he has learned from Brother or through his reactions in this encounter alone. For normal human beings, this is not enough to entrust someone else with what they value above all else, but it is more than enough for Lan Zhan.

Besides, it is more than obvious that Brother intends to court Nie Mingjue in due time. Perhaps when they are both a few years older than they are now Brother will begin the courtship through subtle maneuvers before presenting Nie Mingjue with a jewel that is worth just as much as the bond between them. It is the ways of old, ways Mother never got the chance to experience herself, and ways Lan Zhan will make certain Brother experiences when he considers himself ready for them.

"Then it seems that I was already unofficially a Claw before your brother offered the position to me, Lan-gongzi," Nie Mingjue breaks the silence with, his pronunciation still off but better than before.

Brother lets out a startled laugh in response, his blush darkening further as he grows flustered. Lan Zhan feels his lips twitch with the urge to smile as admiration and amusement bubble up within him.

Nie Mingjue smiles then, his scent twisting until it is less surprised and more confident. "I would still appreciate being taught anything you wish to teach me before I accept. I would not wish to offend either of you after you have already trusted me with so much."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums, stepping forward with his hand outstretched.

He finds himself smiling when Nie Mingjue ducks enough to press the crown of his head into Lan Zhan's palm. Not a smile like Brother or others generally wear on their faces, but a smile nonetheless.

Nie Mingjue is not a part of their weyr, but he will be soon.

While Nie Mingjue is in Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan learns how to ride a sword.

He absolutely despises it.

Having to fly by way of his sword instead of controlling the winds in his first form frustrates him. His instincts do not agree in the least with having to step on a thin sheet of metal and using his golden core to keep him in the air.

Almost as if Bichen knows how Lan Zhan feels about flying on it, he often falls from his sword. Many of the junior disciples he regularly trains with have either already mastered flight by sword or are close to it.

Lan Zhan is the only nine-year-old who cannot remain stable on his sword. The Clan Elders do not let him forget it.

As soon as word had spread that the sole dragon of Cloud Recesses was struggling to fly on his sword, the Clan Elders descended on Lan Zhan quickly. They linger in the back of his lessons again, beady eyes glued to Lan Zhan.

Nie Mingjue finds him on an afternoon the disciples have been given free time to do as they please. Lan Zhan is once again attempting to ride his sword, his jaw tight as his teeth refuse to unclench. Brother is not with him, something that Lan Zhan finds strange as he registers his Claw’s scent approaching but does not acknowledge until Nie Mingjue is standing on the sidelines of the sword training area.

“My Head, what are you doing?” Nie Mingjue asks after they have bowed in greeting to one another.

Lan Zhan keeps his gaze on Bichen, embarrassed that his Claw will be witness to one of his weaknesses. It has not been long since Nie Mingjue accepted Lan Zhan’s offer of being a Claw. Less than a month has passed since then and now Nie Mingjue will learn of how childish Lan Zhan really is and will be ashamed of being in his weyr. He will want to leave their weyr because Heads are meant to be strong and in control, but Lan Zhan can’t remain on his own sword for more than an incense stick’s worth of time before falling off.

Among the other disciples and his teachers, Lan Zhan is labeled a prodigy. Many praise him for his ability to do anything that is taught to him. He masters techniques children his age are not introduced to until they participate in Uncle’s year-long lectures. His golden core is powerful and he has been able to fly without a sword’s assistance for almost four years now. Riding his sword should not be as difficult as it is making itself to be.

Nie Mingjue waits patiently for an answer, brows pulled together in confusion as Lan Zhan holds his unsheathed sword up. He sighs quietly, resigning himself to the shame he will undoubtedly feel in full effect after Nie Mingjue has left him alone again.

“Flying,” Lan Zhan supplies. “I keep falling.”

Understanding dawns across his Claw’s face, his expression clearing quickly. “I see. What seems to be the problem then?”

“I dislike it,” Lan Zhan says, studying Bichen intently as if he has never seen his own sword before then. “I despise it,” he clarifies when Nie Mingjue’s confusion returns.

“Because you can fly on your own without your sword, correct?” Nie Mingjue asks, head tilted to the side in thought.

Lan Zhan nods, still refusing to meet Nie Mingjue’s gaze lest his shame be too great.

Nie Mingjue’s laugh startles him into looking up, blinking furiously as their eyes meet. Lan Zhan can see and smell the amusement Nie Mingjue is sporting at the moment, but he can also make out the fondness in his Claw’s scent as well.

“Well, it seems the only way to fix this is to continue practicing,” Nie Mingjue states as he claps his hands together once then steps down into the sword training area. “I will catch you if you fall, but do not allow your frustration to be your downfall. I struggled with learning how to fly my saber as well.”

At fourteen, Nie Mingjue seems much too wise and intelligent for his age but considering what Lan Zhan is, he has no room to talk. Instead, he hums his agreement and clambers onto Bichen again and again. And again and again, Lan Zhan’s Claw catches him every time he falls off without fail.

They do not stop until Lan Zhan is able to ride his sword longer than two incense stick’s worth of time without falling while Nie Mingjue smiles at him from below.

That is how Brother finds them, pausing as he watches Nie Mingjue lead Lan Zhan through his wobbly landing.

As Lan Zhan’s feet plant themselves firmly on the ground once more, he happens to look up in time to catch a glimpse of one of Brother’s rarer smiles. The type of smile Brother only shares privately, the genuine one that Lan Zhan would not hesitate to go to war for.

His Brother’s happiness means more to him than life itself and as the Head in their weyr, there is nothing Lan Zhan would not do for his first Treasure.

“Wangji, Nie-gongzi,” Brother calls out to them.

Lan Zhan does not miss the flush that rises to Nie Mingjue’s nape as he turns to face Brother, stumbling into a hasty bow as he greets him. Brother’s smile turns softer at the sight, amusement and fondness glimmering within the depth of his silver eyes. Lan Zhan watches them interact for an incense stick’s worth of time before he speaks up to excuse himself.

He reaches out to them both to scent them as he passes by, something bright and airy filling his chest up to the brim as they scent him in return.

Lan Zhan cannot be the terrible Head he believes himself to be if his weyr is happy. They are all young, after all, and they all have the opportunity to grow.

They will be fine.

When Lan Zhan is eleven, Uncle gives permission for Brother to embark on his first night hunt.

Brother is almost fifteen and very strong, but Lan Zhan worries for his Treasure every moment that he is gone. Lan Zhan had petitioned Uncle so he could accompany his older brother. Uncle had only shot him down easily.

The Clan Elders would never have allowed it, after all, and Lan Zhan does not want them to keep him from his first Treasure.

It soothes him when he learns Nie Mingjue will also be on the night hunt. His Claw will protect his Treasure. Nie Mingjue would never allow harm to befall Brother. Lan Zhan can breathe easier knowing his weyr will remain safe, but he finds himself growing restless as the days drag along.

Lan Zhan studies and trains diligently, keeping to himself as much as he always has before. Uncle sits with him for dinner every night but during the day, Lan Zhan is alone. The disciples still keep their distance from him, still tend to watch him from the corner of their eyes when he is anywhere nearby. They duck under awnings or doorways when he takes to the sky and they give him a wide berth of space if their paths ever intercross in the halls.

On the fourth morning Lan Zhan wakes after his brother's departure, he makes a point of not running to Uncle's room once he realizes that Brother's scent on him is beginning to fade. He stops in front of Brother's door on the way there, inhaling his Treasure's scent deeply before moving on again. It is still early but not early enough for the halls to be devoid of others and Lan Zhan does not wish for whispers of his odd behavior to reach the Clan Elders' ears.

Uncle is still in the process of getting ready for the day when Lan Zhan knocks on his door, so Lan Zhan kneels by the entrance and waits patiently. His posture is as perfect as it always is and his expression appears calm but his heart is thudding painfully away in his chest with each moment that passes.

"Wangji," Uncle calls from behind his changing screen. "Would you like some tea?"

Lan Zhan finds himself nodding before he remembers that his uncle cannot see him. "Yes, Uncle."

Uncle makes a noncommittal sound and emerges from behind the screen soon after, looking as polished and pristine as he always does. Lan Zhan drinks in the tranquil image of his uncle, fists clenched over his knees as he continues to kneel.

Lan Zhan watches as Uncle sends for a tea set and goes about preparing their usual blend of tea leaves when a disciple sets down a tray on the only table in Uncle's sitting area. Uncle beckons him forward, motioning to the empty space across the table from him and Lan Zhan keeps his movements measured and serene as he sits.

When the tea is done and Lan Zhan has finished pouring it into their cups for them, Uncle reaches across the table and cups Lan Zhan's cheek gently. "Deep breaths, Wangji."

He follows his Treasure's reassuring words and exhales heavily, inhaling deeply after a moment's pause. Uncle's eyes remain on him as he gradually calms, Lan Zhan's face still cradled within his palm.

There is an ache Lan Zhan has not been able to fully ignore since Brother left, one that demands his Treasures to be near at all times. But under Uncle's steady gaze and his familiar scent surrounding him, Lan Zhan pushes that ache to the side and focuses on the here and now.

"Brother's scent," Lan Zhan murmurs before an incense stick's worth of time has passed, eyes kept closed as he leans into Uncle's touch.

Uncle hums with understanding and allows his fingertips to brush the area behind Lan Zhan's ear, ensuring that his own scent will linger on Lan Zhan's skin throughout the day. "You may enter Xichen's room to take something with his scent on it, but do not linger. It is impolite to enter someone's dwelling without their knowledge."

Lan Zhan moves his head in a motion that could be considered a nod.

"Xichen will return in two day's time, Wangji. Be patient," Uncle admonishes, gripping Lan Zhan's shoulder with his free hand before pulling away and motioning towards their untouched tea. "Let us enjoy our tea and share our breakfast before we depart for the day."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums.

They drink their tea and eat their breakfast quietly. Lan Zhan remains calm for the rest of the morning but when he ducks into Brother's room and tucks a pair of his more favored robes into his qiankun pouch, the itchy feeling from before has returned. He has no time to reacquaint himself with Brother's scent before morning meditation begins and struggles to reach that zen state in between full awareness and unconsciousness Lan Zhan adopts for these sessions.

He skips the noon meal to return to his room and unceremoniously shove his face into Brother's stolen robe.

Brother's scent is a balm, easing him back into the serenity Uncle was able to draw out of him that morning. Lan Zhan refolds Brother's robe when the noon meal is almost done and settles it carefully on top of his bed then leaves. He manages to reach the central mess hall and quickly gulps down a bowl of rice before he’s off to his afternoon lectures.

Uncle scents him again at dinner and Lan Zhan sleeps easier that night.

Two days later, Brother returns just as Uncle said he would. They call him Zewu-Jun now and every member of the Lan Sect bows deeply before him as he passes. Brother has been raised since birth to fulfill his role as the Sect Heir, yet it is only now that Lan Zhan looks upon him and sees the bright future Gusu Lan has to look forward to.

Brother comes back with a title he feels he does not fully deserve and the cultivation world's eyes set on him. He looks tired with light purple shadows under his eyes that Lan Zhan mentally frowns at until they finally have a chance to be alone. Lan Zhan welcomes his Treasure back, returning the robe he took in exchange for Brother's natural scent now that he is by his side once more.

"When it is your turn to debut," Brother tells him later that night, a hand running through the ends of Lan Zhan's hair. "I will be by your side, A-Zhan."

Instantly, Lan Zhan feels his heart constrict in his chest and his eyes prick with the telltale sign of his tears. Brother has not called him “A-Zhan” for five years now. Five years too many if Lan Zhan were to ever be asked about it, but he has not so he kept his silence. Until now.

He turns and surges forward to wrap his arms around Brother's shoulders. He holds onto him tight, burying his face into his older brother's hair. Lan Zhan inhales deeply, uncaring of the tears now spilling down his cheeks as Brother's familiar smell of ink and wet stones surrounds him.

"A-Zhan," Brother sighs against the top of his head before he too is holding onto Lan Zhan with what feels like the majority of his strength. "A-Zhan."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums in response and closes his eyes, feeling warm with the force of his brother's love and his own love for his brother.

When saltwater mixes into his brother's scent, Lan Zhan only holds onto him tighter and says nothing. Words are not his specialty and never will be. They do not come as easily to him as they do his brother, but that is fine.

Lan Zhan does not require the uncertainty of words for Brother to understand what this moment means to him.

Each year Lan Zhan spends without Mother is another year his love for Brother grows tenfold.

When he wakes up on a certain day every month thinking today, he kneels in front of the Jingshi door until Brother comes to collect him at nightfall.

Each time Lan Zhan sees Brother smile, he thanks his mother for bearing and loving them to the full extent that she was able to.

When Lan Zhan thinks of Mother, he remembers her with the pain of his grief lessening ever so slightly until it no longer festers like an untreated wound.

Some days, Lan Zhan does not think of her even once. Other days, all Lan Zhan wants is to be able to see his mother again. He no longer dreams of her, but he smiles to himself even as his heart twists when he plays her favorites on Wangji.

He has forgotten what her laughter sounds like, has forgotten how rich and full her scent was when it lied on his skin, but he will never forget that he was half of her Heart and she loved her Heart until her dying breath.

Lan Zhan is almost thirteen when he meets Nie Huaisang.

Earlier in the month, Lan Zhan was surprised when Uncle informed him he would be joining the party departing for this year’s Discussion Conference held in Qinghe Nie. He had not argued, had simply hummed to show that he was aware of Uncle’s order and packed accordingly.

The journey had not taken long, but Brother remained steadfast by his side. The usual easy smile he always wore when Nie Mingjue was involved was gone, his form rigid and stiff beside Lan Zhan.

A few months before, Nie Mingjue had become the Nie Sect Leader after his father died. Lan Zhan had been able to glean enough details to know the former Nie Sect Leader’s death was no accident. Lan Zhan was also quick to put the rest of the pieces together, now fully understanding why Uncle ordered him to come along.

Lan Zhan knows without a doubt that if it were up to Uncle, Lan Zhan would have been freed from the Gusu Lan Sect shortly after being born. Even though he did not care for Mother, Uncle would have found a way to get them both out if he could. The Clan Elders still regard Brother with subtle distaste, but Lan Zhan's existence remains to be a well of bitterness and greed for them. As much as they despise him, they are none too keen on removing him from the sect.

Now that the Wen Sect has proven they are unafraid to strike down a Sect Leader, the Clan Elders intend to use Lan Zhan’s presence at this Discussion Conference as a show of power. They want the Great Sects to look at the delegation from Gusu Lan and see the beast that is always lurking in the depths of Lan Zhan's being.

The death of Nie Mingjue’s father not only preys upon the Clan Elders’ desperation but upon Brother’s betrothal proposal to Nie Mingjue as well. When they were both nothing more than Sect Heirs, Nie Mingjue could have possibly married into the Lan Sect and have his younger brother take over in his stead. Now that Nie Mingjue is Sect Leader and Brother is close to taking the title himself, the chances of a marriage between them being approved by either of their sects are low.

That will not stop Lan Zhan from trying.

When they arrive in Qinghe, Nie Mingjue is there to welcome them. His eyes never leave Brother’s face and Lan Zhan grits his teeth when his Claw’s scent becomes riddled with the same longing and sadness that shadows Brother's every step.

Brother does not spare Nie Mingjue more than what is polite greetings and small talk as Uncle directs the flow of the short conversation, quickly leading their delegation to their rooms. Lan Zhan can smell the sadness surrounding Brother all too clearly and wants nothing more than to scent him as a distraction, but they are in public and it would not do well to draw attention to the Gusu Lan Sect before the official proceedings have begun.

Lan Zhan plays all of Brother’s favorites on Wangji, glancing up from time to time to take stock of Brother’s expression. He smiles at first, his attention focused on Lan Zhan’s playing, but he is overcome with sadness again by the second song.

Three songs later and Lan Zhan can no longer be so far from his first Treasure when Brother is like this.

“Brother,” Lan Zhan says, “If possible, I would take on your responsibilities.”

“The Clan Elders would kill you first before they allowed you to be Sect Leader, A-Zhan,” Brother replies, spikes of anger now curdling in both his expression and scent. Lan Zhan knows his older brother well enough to recognize the anger is being directed at the thought of any harm befalling him and not at Lan Zhan himself. “They would make it look like an accident so none of them would have to admit to breaking the rules and submit themselves for punishment, but we both know this to be true. I cannot give you a death sentence for my own selfish reasons.”

Lan Zhan cups his older brother’s cheek, the corners of his mouth twitching downward. “Love is not selfish.”

Brother mirrors him, his palm large and calloused from swordplay but still remaining one of the softest things Lan Zhan has ever felt. “A-Zhan, love itself is not selfish, you are correct. But tell me how could I ever live without you? How could I leave the sect and you for dead all for the sake of love that I feel for someone who is not of my blood?”

The frown on Lan Zhan’s face is small but clear enough to show his displeasure with Brother’s words. “He is a part of our weyr. He is your mate. I am willing to shoulder your responsibilities to the sect, Brother.”

“I am not,” is all Brother says before he refuses to speak any longer on the matter.

The next day Lan Zhan is determined to say something more, to add to the subject, and change his brother’s mind. He wakes at five and washes up quickly, dressing in the traditional five layers of robes every Lan is expected to wear. He had long since turned his nose up at any fabric that was not silk or lace a long time ago, greatly disliking the way other fabrics tend to irritate his skin.

Mother had smiled the first time he admitted his discomfort towards the robes Brother used to help him put on when he was younger. She shared the same sentiment, stating that she had allowed only the softest of blankets and fabrics in Lan Zhan's nest and on her person. Brother too usually wore clothes that were on the softer side, but the texture of the fabrics did not affect him as considerably as they affected Lan Zhan and their mother.

Lan Zhan stops his thoughts in their tracks there. It has been many years but Mother's death still hangs over him like a dark cloud, bringing both sorrow and metaphorical rain to him. He directs his attention towards getting ready for the day, ignoring the grief he can feel in the depths of his heart.

After dressing, Lan Zhan does his hair, fixes his forehead ribbon so it lies straight, and goes to find breakfast. The meal is not the same as the one he is used to in Cloud Recesses, but it is acceptable and filling nonetheless. After that, he trails behind Brother, intent on convincing him to ask for Nie Mingjue’s hand in marriage, yet Brother knows him all too well. He avoids speaking with Lan Zhan at every opportunity, keeping his gaze away from both him and Nie Mingjue. Uncle is Acting Sect Leader, but Brother is the Sect Heir, and where Uncle goes, Brother is not far behind him.

Lan Zhan is not old enough to participate in any of the competitions being held, but Brother always manages to place first or second in all of them. He watches the competitions by Uncle’s side, aware of the many eyes on him from Sect Leaders and regular everyday servants alike. He fights to show no reaction the first time he catches Wen Ruohan's scent, choking down the bitterness of it all. Uncle makes sure to always keep himself between Lan Zhan and the probing gaze of Wen Ruohan.

Every time the jewel on Wen Ruohan's forehead makes a sound, Lan Zhan grips his robes even tighter to restrain himself from standing up and walking away. Not only would it be rude, but it would make the Great Sects doubt how much control the Lan Sect has over him. Wen Ruohan is not worth a moment of lapse in Lan Zhan's ever-present self-control.

When the noon meal hour has almost finished, Brother approaches him with a respite in the form of a smaller boy clad in Nie gray. His features are delicate and Lan Zhan can immediately tell the boy is nervous by how tightly he is clenching the fan in his hand. Even before Brother introduces them and sweeps away soon after to avoid Lan Zhan’s impending attempts at persuasion, Lan Zhan knows the boy is Nie Mingjue’s younger brother, Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang is a few months younger than Lan Zhan and set to attend Uncle’s guest disciple lectures the following year. The anxiety thrumming through Nie Huaisang puts Lan Zhan on edge, always feeling like he is one wrong word away from reaching out and soothing this frazzled boy himself. Scenting the Nie Sect Heir would be inappropriate, however. Nie Mingjue would excuse it, but the other Sect Leaders would only take this as proof of the fact that Lan Zhan is less than human.

Lan Zhan keeps his hands to himself as Nie Huaisang mumbles through many of his sentences, growing more and more discouraged after each of Lan Zhan’s terse responses. Many may say Lan Zhan is cold and unfeeling, but he is not blind to the way Nie Mingjue views his younger brother as something precious and worth protecting from the world at large. Nie Huaisang is Nie Mingjue’s Treasure and Lan Zhan wants to appear more welcoming and inviting, wants Nie Huaisang to feel comfortable around him, but he is unsure of how to do that.

The Jin Sect is the only other sect to have brought their young heir, but Jin Zixuan is not someone Lan Zhan would ever want to wish upon Nie Huaisang. Even if their time together is awkward, at least it will hopefully not leave Nie Huaisang in tears by the end.

“What are your interests, Lan-gongzi?” Nie Huaisang asks timidly, a flush high on his cheeks.

Lan Zhan hums, “Reading. The guqin.”

Nie Huaisang nods as his face turns a startling shade of pink. He continues to ask Lan Zhan questions no other person has ever bothered to ask him before and Lan Zhan continues to answer simply. He is sure that he is not making any progress in befriending Nie Mingjue’s younger brother, but he cannot deny that the curiosity in Nie Huaisang’s scent is distracting him.

Eventually, Lan Zhan is able to convince Nie Huaisang to play weiqi with him, watching and analyzing his every move. Nie Huaisang had mentioned how he and Nie Mingjue sometimes play together and Lan Zhan had turned to him very suddenly to challenge him to a game. He has played weiqi with Nie Mingjue only a handful of times himself, but the experiences alone were enough to tell Lan Zhan all he needed to know about Nie Mingjue’s character.

Nie Huaisang comes alive as they play. He appears timid and makes moves Lan Zhan would have generally classified as simple, but the longer they play, the longer Lan Zhan realizes that is not the case at all. Lan Zhan can practically taste the anticipation building up within Nie Huaisang as they move across the board, conceding defeat when Nie Huaisang’s plan is finally revealed to him.

They set the board for another round, Lan Zhan’s interest in the inner workings of Nie Huaisang's mind practically begging him to continue playing. Nie Huaisang’s plan is not the same as before but it is just as discrete and Lan Zhan cannot see it coming until Nie Huaisang has him exactly where he wants him.

It is all too clear to him that Nie Huaisang is intelligent and has an exceptional knack for strategy but he hides it behind his faked ignorance and paper fans.

Lan Zhan does not agree to another game, already aware that he will lose once more. Nie Huaisang deflates but then Lan Zhan haltingly asks him about his own interest in the arts and Nie Huaisang comes back to life. He can practically hear Nie Huaisang's mind at work as they spend the next shichen discussing music or reading excerpts from Nie Huaisang’s extensive collection of stories and poems together.

As the day fades away, Lan Zhan loosens ever so slightly around Nie Huaisang. He is not usually a fan of new acquaintances, but he finds himself enjoying Nie Huaisang’s company.

By the time dinner is approaching, Lan Zhan is reaching out to grip Nie Huaisang’s nape much the same way he did to Nie Mingjue all those years ago.

“Lan-gongzi?” Nie Huaisang asks, frozen in Lan Zhan’s grasp.

Lan Zhan rubs his thumb across the back of Nie Huaisang’s neck and releases him soon after. “You will be my Tail.”

Confusion flits across his face before Nie Huaisang understands. “Da-ge won’t be happy with that.”

It is good to see that Lan Zhan was not wrong about Nie Huaisang having knowledge of this already. To Lan Zhan, it made perfect sense for Nie Huaisang to learn everything he could about dragons if his older brother had been taken into the folds of a weyr, after all.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hums. “Not for him to decide.”

Nie Huaisang blinks and stares at him, eyes gone wide as the realization sinks in. “Me?”

Lan Zhan nods. Nie Huaisang blinks again as his eyes begin to water, tears a very real thing that may happen in the next moment or so. Lan Zhan blinks back, confused over why this would garner such a response but decides to look into it later. Nie Huaisang apologized to him multiple times when he was in the middle of excitedly explaining something from one of his books or a poem he liked in particular and that was all Lan Zhan needed to know that when Nie Huaisang talks, others rarely listen.

That will never be the case in their weyr.

Nie Huaisang is correct that Nie Mingjue does not approve of Lan Zhan’s claim on him, but considering the fact that Nie Huaisang being added to their weyr is also what is necessary for Brother to finally talk to him, Lan Zhan does not have to listen to the Nie Sect Leader’s protests for very long. Brother’s explanation of weyr positions and Nie Huaisang’s role as a Tail is perfect, simple, and enough for Nie Mingjue to turn to his younger brother and see him in a different light.

After all, even when you focus on a dragon’s claws or teeth, you should never forget about its tail. Making such a mistake could be deadly.

Soon after they have returned from the Discussion Conference, Lan Zhan is given permission to venture into Caiyi Town unsupervised.

At first, he does not wish to go. He was granted this privilege through the Clan Elders, as all the other junior disciples had been as well. This is meant to be a group excursion with only those who had recently broken a rule not being allowed to go. Lan Zhan is the perfect disciple and therefore, the Clan Elders had no way of denying him this without raising many questions within the sect itself.

Lan Zhan, of course, could not care either way if he is allowed to go or not. He has no money of his own to spend in town nor friends to spend time with while there. Brother will be busy in Cloud Recesses with his own studies and may not accompany him. Asking Uncle would prove fruitless as well.

He ponders over whether Brother would believe him if he claimed to fall ill the morning of the excursion and decides that Brother would have already prepared for that kind of scenario. Instead, Lan Zhan grudgingly accepts the qiankun pouch full of money that Uncle pushes into his hands and ignores the teasing slant of Brother’s smile as he descends down the mountain with the other junior disciples.

The journey down is quick enough for Lan Zhan and as quiet as he expected it to be with no company. He is the first to step into Caiyi Town, most of the junior disciples still working their way down all those steps.

Caiyi Town smells of the lakewater that surrounds it and the street food that vaguely calls to Lan Zhan. In Cloud Recesses, their food is unseasoned and bland but filling nonetheless. Mother gave him sweets once as a child, something he found was not much to his liking. The smell of sugar lies heavily in the air and Lan Zhan decides to follow it to its source.

The marketplace is lively, not as loud as Lan Zhan expected it to be but disarming nevertheless. The stall selling candy is surrounded by children, some enjoying their sweets and others looking on with unabashed longing.

Before Lan Zhan recognizes what he is doing, he has already swept forward and bought each child in the vicinity a sweet. The vendor thanks him profusely, accepting the large sum of money Lan Zhan has offered him to pay. In truth, the amount is enough to buy out all the sweets but Lan Zhan only takes one for himself and asks the vendor to give the rest away to any child that wouldn’t normally be able to buy it for themselves.

He sweeps away, eyes roaming the marketplace as children cheer behind him. Their cries are not exceptionally loud, something about Caiyi Town as a whole keeping itself reserved. Lan Zhan doesn’t mind it though. He pops the sweet into his mouth and forces himself to get past the overbearing taste of sugar as he moves farther and farther away from the center of the marketplace. Here and there he can see the telling robes of his fellow junior disciples but walks past them without a second glance.

Even though his control is unshakable, for the most part, Lan Zhan keeps his distance from others out of habit. He passes one of the livelier inns and turns sharply away from the scent of what he can only assume is alcohol. The smell is bitter and sets his teeth on edge as he thinks of Mother before he viciously pushes the thought away.

Muscles he had not been aware of beforehand loosen as he moves forward, merely trailing around the marketplace in search of nothing in particular. Many vendors eye the cut of his robes and the clouds on his forehead ribbon, the only markings Lan Zhan carries of his position in the Lan Sect. They call out to him as he passes but Lan Zhan only nods to them in acknowledgment, silently apologizing as he continues to walk.

He stops at a quiet inn around noon and eats a simple meal, tipping generously once he has finished. He takes note of the inn’s name for future reference and decides it would be best to return back to Cloud Recesses for the remainder of the day.

He pauses as he steps out of the inn, ears immediately catching onto the words, “This came from a real dragon!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes trace the sound back to a vendor down the road with a small stall decorated in necklaces of all sorts. From this distance, Lan Zhan can make out the indistinct shape of teeth and glass jars hanging from the chords that cover the vendor’s stall. He is talking animatedly to a young man who peers down at the necklace being proffered to him before scoffing and walking away, muttering under his breath about knowing a scam when he sees one.

Despite himself, Lan Zhan is curious about what exactly this vendor is claiming is from a real dragon. He approaches calmly, inwardly delighted when the vendor brightens as he catches sight of him. The residents of Caiyi Town are aware of the dragon in the Gusu Lan Sect. None have seen him before today, but Lan Zhan is certain that they recognized who he was as soon as they saw the clouds on his ribbon. This vendor proves to be no different, even as his scent grows nervous, his expression and body language remain excited when Lan Zhan comes to a stop in front of his stall.

This close Lan Zhan can tell that none of this vendor’s merchandise came from an actual dragon. The teeth are too small, the water and wind caught in the glass jars too artificial, and the scales are nothing more than painted sheets of metal. The fans look to be made from high-quality material, at least, but Lan Zhan does not mention this to the vendor. He is more than aware of the fact that the vendor already knows and is hoping Lan Zhan won’t run him out of business by disputing his goods.

Lan Zhan reaches out for four of the tooth-bearing necklaces and pays the vendor more than they are worth before he turns on his heel and leaves. His lips twitch when the vendor thanks him profusely for his business, loudly drawing the attention of everyone milling about on the road.

It takes only one glimpse of his clouds for everyone to recognize him as he walks away and before he knows it, the stall is being flooded with customers.

Back in Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan presents the necklaces to Brother and Uncle. Lans do not wear jewelry, not the type most can see anyway. He bought these on a whim, but he is glad when they silently wrap the chords around their wrists before hiding their hands within their draping sleeves once more.

As for the last two necklaces, Lan Zhan sends those to the Nie brothers. He enlists Brother’s help to get them delivered and is satisfied when Nie Huaisang sends him a thank you letter in return. Or as satisfied as he can be when only a week later, he receives another letter from his Tail informing him that he has somehow misplaced the gift Lan Zhan gave him. Lan Zhan takes that to mean Nie Huaisang did not particularly like the necklace he was given and is asking for something else instead as politely as he can.

(Years later, however, Nie Huaisang will tell him that he gave the necklace to a boy from the Jiang Sect with startling silver eyes who was in awe of the fact that a dragon had given him his own teeth as a gift. Nie Huaisang did not have the heart to tell the boy that the teeth were fake and instead allowed him to keep the necklace as a token of their new friendship. Lan Zhan finds that he cannot fault his Tail for this when he meets the silver-eyed boy for himself.)

Lan Zhan returns to the same vendor as before on his next allowed excursion into Caiyi Town and grabs the fan with a detailed drawing of a dilong on it, ignoring how much it resembles his mother.

Nie Huaisang shoots him a smile behind that same fan the next time they meet and that becomes the end of that.

On one autumn day when Lan Zhan is thirteen, he experiences the effects of his first growth spurt.

In his usual bleariness of the early morning, he mistakes the pain in his lower back as an ache from not sleeping in the traditionally accepted Lan sleeping position. Even though he falls asleep while laying on his back, he always wakes in the morning to find that he has moved in the middle of the night.

That morning he happens to wake up curled up on his side, his hair a tangled mess beneath his shoulder. He sits up carefully, distantly aware of the twinge near his spine as he moves. Gently, he turns at the waist and sighs as the twinge disappears almost immediately.

By then, Lan Zhan has decided this is a matter of little importance and begins preparing for the day. He forgets about the discomfort from the morning until the noon meal has passed and his back begins to ache again.

He is in the middle of sword practice when he parries a blow from his sparring partner and feels his shoulder twinge with mild pain. Lan Zhan ignores it, for the time being, and finishes the spar quicker than usual. His sparring partner bows to him after she has risen from the ground, her white robes dusted with dirt. He barely remembers to bow back before he turns on his heel and finds a spot on the sidelines to watch the rest of the spars.

Lan Zhan slowly rotates his arm, feeling his brows come together for a split second before his face smooths itself of all expression again. A slow and steady heat is spreading from his shoulder blades down to his waist, an unusual urge to scratch the knobs of his spine valiantly attempting to push through to the forefront of his thoughts. He ignores that as well, sitting out for the rest of the sword practice and excusing himself when the itching becomes too distracting.

The master swordsman in charge of their class waves him away, asking only once if Lan Zhan is feeling alright before he is dismissed. Lan Zhan is intent on seeing a healer but halfway to the healer’s hall, his feet start to lead him towards Brother instead. His back now feels like it is burning but Lan Zhan continues to calmly follow his brother's scent past the bustling main halls and into the back slopes of Cloud Recesses.

He finds Brother sitting on a dry rock by the cold springs, staring pensively into the waters.

"Brother," Lan Zhan speaks, surprised by how strained he sounds. He reaches up to grasp his shoulder before he can stop himself, the burning feeling only increasing with each moment that passes. "Brother," he repeats.

Brother startles as he turns to face him, confusion and concern blanketing his face. "A-Zhan? Are you unwell? What's wrong?"

Lan Zhan shakes his head, his grip on his shoulder tightening even further. "Brother."

"A-Zhan," Brother breathes, standing up quickly and rushing to Lan Zhan's side. "What’s wrong? Tell me."

Lan Zhan shakes his head, his tongue suddenly feeling too heavy. He feels too big for this form, his clothes constricting instead of comforting him with their familiar sensation and weight. "Brother," is all he can manage to say before he tugs on his sash to begin removing his robes.

Brother seems to understand because, in the next moment, his hands have replaced Lan Zhan's trembling ones as they methodically remove his three outer robes and hesitate before pulling Lan Zhan's two inner robes off as well. Lan Zhan only notices enough to nod, too used to nudity around his older brother to care about it now.

(Brother did mind for a while, but only because he thought Lan Zhan would feel different now that his second form was changing with age. Lan Zhan didn't and so their typical camaraderie had, thankfully, returned.)

Lan Zhan sinks into the cold springs after he tugs his boots off and leaves them by the bundle of his robes that Brother is slowly folding. The water calms him briefly before the burning on his back returns, and Lan Zhan submerges himself completely underwater. He wrenches his eyes shut and clenches his hands into fists by his side, taking stock of the pain.

It is different than it was in the morning, even different than it was not that long ago at sword practice as well. Before it was just a twinge or an ache he could ignore and push to the side to deal with later. Now it is like an invisible fire has sprung into existence on his back, taking shelter in his spine as his body screams to be released from this form.

In the next moment, Lan Zhan relaxes and feels the familiar shift in his bones take hold. His transition is swift and clean, his first form tuning into the rhythm of his Treasure's heartbeat. He moves with the change in forms, his head breaking the water's surface and inhaling the fresh afternoon air. His limbs stay underwater, but bits and pieces of his back are exposed to the sky above him. The fire is gone now, everything as it should be.

When Lan Zhan opens his eyes, he finds Brother gaping at him in shock.

Lan Zhan leans forward to brush his whiskers against the top of Brother's hair, chuffing as Brother lets out an inelegant snort he would never allow anyone else to hear in public. Anyone except for Uncle and Nie Mingjue, but they are not exactly anyone so Lan Zhan does not point out this exception. After all, their weyr has extended from three Lans to include two Nies as well.

Brother reaches out to press the flat of his palm against Lan Zhan's muzzle, moving upwards to scent him in return. Since his birth, Lan Zhan has almost always had Brother's scent on his skin. When he was with Mother for those first two years, his brother was not always available to scent him as often as Lan Zhan wanted to but since Mother died, Lan Zhan has made a point of scenting Brother daily. Brother did not do the same in return at first, but now he reaches out for Lan Zhan in either form without nary a thought.

"A-Zhan," Brother breathes into the air between them, one hand pressed to his own chest as his heartbeat quickens and his scent morphs from concern to awe. "You've grown."

He can already guess what will greet him, but Lan Zhan turns enough to glance behind him anyway. He freezes as soon as his eyes catch sight of his tail, much longer and thicker than it was the last time he went flying. His second form is changing by the day though, maturing and growing. Maybe it stands to reason that Lan Zhan's first form would also change to accommodate the progress of his second form.

Still, Lan Zhan almost cannot believe it.

While Lan Zhan's body continues to grow, his mind races ahead in leaps and bounds.

Brother is close to adulthood but not quite there yet. He no longer hopes for an official marriage with Nie Mingjue, but their sworn brotherhood is no secret. Uncle had approved and arranged for the ceremony to take place shortly before the Discussion Conference held in Qinghe came to an end. Still, whenever Nie Mingjue is mentioned, Brother’s scent goes sour with the force of his sadness.

Lan Zhan doesn’t understand why until Nie Huaisang sheds light on the situation for him.

Nie Huaisang is in Cloud Recesses for the year-long lectures Uncle holds for the guest disciples every other year. Three days earlier, Lan Zhan had spent the better part of the morning waiting at the entrance to welcome the Nie Sect Heir then show him to the guest disciple dormitories.

When he first caught sight of him, Nie Huaisang had smiled so brightly that Lan Zhan felt the ridiculous urge to glance behind him to check if there was someone else Nie Huaisang was so happy to see. His surprise must have shown because Nie Huaisang had laughed quietly enough for only Lan Zhan to hear after they bowed to each other and gave the customary greetings expected of them. Lan Zhan was certain that Nie Huaisang was going to walk close enough by his side to be considered improper, but his Tail had kept a respectable amount of distance between them and barely fidgeted with his fan as they walked further into Cloud Recesses.

Only once they were safely behind closed doors did Nie Huaisang sit beside him and press their upper arms together as they drank tea. Lan Zhan had calmed at the familiar position, envisioning both of their older brothers sitting across from them like they usually did when they all had tea together. While Nie Huaisang was in the process of reciting his newest collection of poetry to him, Lan Zhan had reached out and gripped the back of his neck. His Tail had gone limp in his hold, giving in without a fight to show Lan Zhan how much he had missed their scenting sessions.

It had not occurred to Lan Zhan that Nie Huaisang might be lacking in receiving physical contact until he came to Cloud Recesses without his brother accompanying him. At that moment, however, it became startling clear and Lan Zhan has made it a point to scent Nie Huaisang every day since then.

Brother has been unhappy all day, the sour scent of it cloying. Lan Zhan scented him before breakfast in an attempt to distract him but instead, he has Brother's sadness lingering on his skin, the weight of it dragging on Lan Zhan all day. It has had him on edge and when Lan Zhan feels like crawling out of his skin but is unable to shift, he plays music.

That is why when he sits down to practice his guqin after classes have ended and Nie Huaisang leans against his back, Lan Zhan remains stiff and upright. He plays all of Brother's favorites first before the notes blend into a song Nie Huaisang shared with him during his last visit with his brother.

When the song ends, Nie Huaisang reaches out and grips Lan Zhan's wrist to stop him from plucking the strings again. "Lan-xiong."

Lan Zhan inclines his head in Nie Huaisang's direction to show that he is listening. He does not miss the way his Tail's face softens, nor can he mistake the dull sprigs of surprise buried within his scent. His chest tightens, an unfamiliar feeling gripping him whole as he thinks of how often Nie Huaisang must be brushed aside and not taken as seriously as his brother to be caught off-guard when he immediately receives the full force of someone's attention on him.

He knows Nie Mingjue listens to every word Nie Huaisang says, knows that his Claw cherishes his younger brother more than anything in this world. Lan Zhan knows that Nie Huaisang's hidden reaction is not a result of his brother's actions, but the reaction itself still bothers him. No one in his weyr should ever expect their words to be ignored, especially not Nie Huaisang.

"Do you wish to speak about what is bothering you?" Nie Huaisang's steady voice draws Lan Zhan out of his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "You are troubled, my Head."

Words are not Lan Zhan's greatest strength. It takes only an incense stick's worth of time in his company to know this fact. Many think him aloof and reserved, always intimately aware of his ire but never of the other multiple emotions filling him to the brim. That Nie Huaisang can tell he is upset does not surprise Lan Zhan. Nie Huaisang asking if he would like to air his grievances does.

Lan Zhan wanting to share his troubles with the newest member of his weyr surprises him even more.

He nods, placing his free hand over Nie Huaisang's on his wrist. Nie Huaisang starts to apologize for interrupting him in such a manner, but Lan Zhan brushes it aside and grips onto Nie Huaisang's hand tighter.

"Brother is upset," Lan Zhan finally manages to say, eyes downcast and glued to their joined hands.

Nie Huaisang sighs, sagging beside him. "Yes, I have noticed Zewu-jun's mood has not been as bright as it should be these past few days."

Lan Zhan nods again, leaning into Nie Huaisang's warmth without much thought. "Do you..." He trails off, suddenly unsure of what exactly he wants to ask.

"Da-ge told me that there has been a sudden influx of marriage proposals for him recently. Our Clan Elders wish for him to marry sooner rather than later," Nie Huaisang speaks into the silence between them. “They want the line of succession to remain clear.”

Lan Zhan stiffens, fury and indignation rolling up from the depths of his very being. He knew Brother's future relationship with Nie Mingjue would not come without complications, but to know that others are willing to force his Treasure’s mate into a loveless marriage leaves him feeling like he is lost at sea. Unmoored from the stability and control he has taught himself from the moment he took his very first breath.

"Sect Leader Nie will⎼" Lan Zhan begins to say, his words resembling a long and drawn-out hiss he is more familiar with in his first form than in this one.

Nie Huaisang does not let go of his hand, does not flinch or pull away when faced with Lan Zhan's anger and in the recesses of Lan Zhan's thoughts, he feels awful for subjecting a member of his weyr to this. It is not any fault of Nie Huaisang's that their brothers will not have the chance to be together. It is not Lan Zhan's fault either but he cannot abate the rage building up within him that easily.

"I am more than willing to produce an heir for the Nie Sect, Lan-xiong. I told Da-ge that he does not have to marry out of duty, no matter what the Clan Elders say," Nie Huaisang states, not half as calmly as he is hoping to appear but enough to confront Lan Zhan's baser instincts head-on.

Despite his sudden anger, Lan Zhan inhales deeply and closes his eyes. He focuses on keeping his breathing normal, on finding his way back to the pier he has always kept his control tied to. Nie Huaisang waits patiently at his side, the last vestiges of fear fading away from his Tail's scent as Lan Zhan calms.

He opens his eyes when he is more than sure of his temperament and bows in apology, eyes downcast. Nie Huaisang flushes through his acceptance and then changes the subject, prattling on about how difficult his studies are. Lan Zhan hums where appropriate, mentally far away from this moment and glad of the fact that his Tail has not taken offense.

Later, Lan Zhan finds Uncle in his room before dinner.

"Wangji, did you wish to join me for dinner?" Uncle asks after Lan Zhan has given the proper greetings.

Lan Zhan shakes his head, holding his hand out in a silent question. Uncle meets his gaze as he nods, stepping forward so Lan Zhan can easily reach out and scent him.

"Sect Leader Nie is being pressured into marriage," Lan Zhan begins with, brushing his thumb behind Uncle's ear and wondering if Uncle will consider what he says next as gossiping. "The Elders will not allow this one to produce an heir. Now or in the future."

Uncle sighs, aging before his very eyes. "Yes, Wangji. They have come to accept Xichen as heir thanks to his sworn brotherhood with Sect Leader Nie and the political ties it will give the Lan Sect. They expect him to marry within due time and produce an heir for the sect so you never will."

"Brother knows?" Lan Zhan asks, raising his other hand so Uncle's face is cupped between his palms.

"No, but Xichen will have guessed already."

Lan Zhan hums, dropping his hands so they lie at his sides once more. Uncle sighs, a sound Lan Zhan is not used to but does not mind. This is not a conversation Uncle expected to have with his almost fourteen-year-old nephew, after all. Neither of them is at fault for the situation at hand but they both cannot help but feel guilty for the apparent outcome regardless.

Uncle reaches out and smooths Lan Zhan’s hair down, his scent curdling with sadness and guilt. "This old one apologizes, Wangji. I can do no more than I already have."

"Mn," Lan Zhan responds, not out of agreement but to show Uncle that he has heard him. "Uncle has done his best. Wangji is grateful."

Uncle cups his cheek for a brief moment before he steps back and dismisses Lan Zhan, urging him to join his older brother for dinner. Lan Zhan agrees, not bothering to point out that was his initial plan.

Though every meal is marked with silence, the one Lan Zhan shares with Brother that night is edged with something else. Something that has Lan Zhan itching to play more music in an attempt to curb the unfamiliar feeling.

"Brother," Lan Zhan says once they have cleared the empty bowls and dishes away. "Second Young Master Nie has informed me of his plans to give his sect an heir."

Brother's silver gaze burns against him but Lan Zhan remains steady. He has his brother's sole attention now, the full force of his focus that others tend to wither under. Lan Zhan reaches out and takes hold of his brother's hands in his, not allowing their eyes to stray from one another.

"I will not be allowed to produce an heir," Lan Zhan admits, feeling his heartbeat increase when Brother's gaze only intensifies.

"The Elders will not allow Mother's blood to linger in the Lan Clan through you," Brother says so softly that Lan Zhan has to strain to hear him. "If your future spouse is not a man, they will destroy your chances at marriage."

Lan Zhan hums in agreement, still gripping onto his brother's hands. "Brother."

Brother leans forward until their foreheads are close to touching, both of them bowed over their joined hands. "A-Zhan, let us find happiness where we can."

"Mn."

Lan Zhan's debut makes a monumental splash across the waters of the cultivation world.

The night hunt he accompanied Brother, Nie Huaisang, and a handful of other junior disciples on was simple. They had resolved the issue within two nights and returned to Cloud Recesses three days before the graduation ceremony for the guest disciples would take place.

Nie Huaisang had failed his exams, excited for his plans to return again in a year's time when Lan Zhan will be able to join the lessons. Nie Mingjue had plenty to say when he had found out but Brother had distracted him before he could cause a scene when he came to accompany Nie Huaisang home.

(Lan Zhan, for his own part, had asked his Tail if he had failed on purpose and sat silently through the adamant denial Nie Huaisang offered in a teasing voice.)

Since his debut, Lan Zhan and his brother have been regaled as the Twin Jade Dragons of Gusu Lan. Lan Zhan himself did not gain an official title like Brother had, but he is both pleased and discomfited with the unofficial one they have come to share between them.

After the guest disciple lessons are officially over, the Twin Jade Dragons see the small party from the Nie Sect off, wishing for their safety on their trek back home. Brother and Nie Mingjue bow to each other as is becoming of a Sect Leader and a Sect Heir, but Nie Huaisang's bow to Lan Zhan is much less formal than is expected.

Lan Zhan returns it despite all the eyes he can feel on him and hums in agreement when Nie Huaisang asks him to continue to keep in contact. He can already guess what Nie Huaisang's incoming letter will center around and mentally catalogs all the possible responses he can present in turn.

Months after Lan Zhan's debut, the Clan Elders invite him to a discussion Brother was unaware of until Lan Zhan mentions it to him.

Uncle and Brother both escort him to the meeting, standing firm by his side even when the Elders make their distaste over their uninvited appearance clear. Lan Zhan stays silent throughout the entire thing. His input isn't welcome here anyway.

By the end of it, Uncle and Brother have agreed for Lan Zhan to enter seclusion until the lessons for next year's guest disciples begin. The Elders had said they were concerned that all the new scents and people Lan Zhan will be joining in a classroom setting would upset his instincts and put everyone at risk. They want him to seclude himself and strengthen his control until there is no chance of him ever losing it.

Lan Zhan knows the extent of his control. He is well aware of this being another manner in which the Clan Elders want to exert their own control over him. Lan Zhan has never been bothered by new people and all their different mannerisms so he knows the Clan Elders’ reasoning to be flighty at best. New scents only take up enough of Lan Zhan's attention for him to recognize them as unfamiliar before moving on.

It has been too long since the Clan Elders have made their presence known in his life. Something like this has been long overdue.

Lan Zhan remains silent on their trek back to his room, musing over how to word his proposal.

"Wangji," Uncle begins with once they have entered Lan Zhan's room. "There is nothing Xichen and I can do that would change the Elders' minds."

"Mn. Wangji understands," Lan Zhan replies, meeting his uncle's gaze easily. "Brother, Uncle. Wangji wishes to make a request."

Brother nods. "If it is within our power to do so, we will listen and grant it."

Lan Zhan bows, keeping his eyes on his feet. "Wangji wishes to seclude in the Jingshi."

Silence befalls them, the shock and surprise in their scents filling the air between them. Lan Zhan remains bowing, keeping his posture perfect and proper as he waits.

"A-Zhan," Brother whispers, reaching out to grip Lan Zhan's elbow and pull him out of his bow. "Your seclusion will not be like Mother's punishment."

"Wangji understands," Lan Zhan responds, eyes still on his own two feet. "Wangji still wishes to seclude in the Jingshi."

Uncle grips his other elbow, pulling him a step closer until Lan Zhan is forced to look up so he can see the expressions on their faces. "You may move into the Jingshi. This would please the Elders, but your seclusion will end before the guest disciple lessons begin, Wangji. You have broken no rules. You are the model disciple that the Lan Sect is fortunate enough to have. Your seclusion is not a punishment."

Lan Zhan is surprised by the vehemence of his uncle's words for only a moment.

Uncle is steadfast in his stance and respectable. He is stubborn and holds the Lan Sect rules in high regard. Lan Zhan knows that Uncle was greatly affected by Mother’s punishment and his sire’s seclusion. As a result, Uncle has done his best to raise him and Brother to always respect those rules. Uncle was never fond of Mother, but he was still one of the only two people who believed her when she presented her case to the Clan Elders all those years ago.

Uncle is the one who recited the rules to Lan Zhan as a toddler and Uncle is the one who first placed a brush into Lan Zhan's tiny hand before guiding him through writing his own name. Uncle is the one who gave Lan Zhan his first guqin, who arranged for both Lan Zhan's and his brother's swords to be made, and who indulged Lan Zhan's scenting until Uncle grew used to daily physical contact. Uncle was the one who nursed Brother when he was sick as a child, who hurried to Lan Zhan's side the only time he found himself injured, and Uncle was the one who helped Lan Zhan practice keeping his expression blank even when overwhelmed with the sheer breadth of his feelings. Uncle was the one who gave him and Brother their courtesy names, the one who took them to see Mother every month, and the one who told them when she was no longer in this world.

Of course, Brother would not be the only one wary of a dragon secluding in the Jingshi again. Lan Zhan must strive to remember that his second Treasure cherishes him just as much as Lan Zhan does him.

"Wangji understands," Lan Zhan repeats, allowing himself to be pulled forward into the group hug Brother initiates.

Lan Zhan is fifteen when he emerges from seclusion.

During those isolated months, Lan Zhan was grateful that Brother came to visit him every day. They would share a quiet dinner and scent each other afterward before Brother would take his leave. Sometimes Brother would stay longer to hear Lan Zhan play on Wangji, but it happened rarely enough that Lan Zhan tended to savor his brother's praise on his playing. Uncle, too, would visit, only dropping in once a week to make sure that Lan Zhan was remaining relatively healthy and continued to have everything he needed.

Visits during seclusion are not expressly forbidden, but Lan Zhan knew if the Clan Elders had ever caught on, it would have soon been added to the wall.

Now Lan Zhan is once again allowed to be out and about. Uncle's year-long lessons begin tomorrow, the last of the guest disciples having arrived earlier today. Nie Huaisang arrived four days earlier and has come to visit Lan Zhan twice since then, tagging along with Brother to join them for dinner.

Lan Zhan no longer has his Tail's scent on his skin but he is looking forward to another year of Nie Huaisang's company.

Seclusion has left Lan Zhan feeling cemented in the Lan Sect's rules. He studied them countless times, pouring over every character with the utmost attention. He'd been too lax before, he is well aware of that now. The Clan Elders could have accused him of breaking a handful of rules and it would have easily turned his seclusion into the punishment he knows they still wish to hand out to him.

In appearance, he was the perfect disciple that the Clan Elders could no longer do anything except wait for him to misstep and lose control. In his heart, Lan Zhan knows he will never allow that to happen.

Uncle has given him the title of Discipline Master as a way to welcome him back into the folds of the sect. Lan Zhan now has the power to dole out punishment to his age-mates and those younger than him who happen to break a rule. As Discipline Master, he must aid in the curfew rounds, making sure that everyone is in bed by nine. Considering that there are now guest disciples staying with them, Lan Zhan is not expecting his first night to be quiet.

The light of the full moon gives Lan Zhan all the light he needs to prowl the corridors, his senses on the alert for any curfew breakers. Cloud Recesses is filled with new scents and sounds, but its appearance has not changed.

It is still the mountain high in the clouds that he was raised in. It is still where the rivers and streams that follow his command reside. It is still home, even despite the animosity he faces on its slopes.

Near the outer wall, Lan Zhan hears scuffling and quiet cursing on the other side. He pauses, gripping Bichen tightly as the scuffling starts to climb up the wall until it is located above his head.

A moment later, a hand holding two jars throws itself over the wall, the rest of the guest disciple's body following soon after to sprawl across the roof.

Lan Zhan looks up at the guest disciple, taking in his unruly, black hair and the white of his disciple robes embroidered with purple lotus flowers that mark him as a disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. "Step back."

The Jiang disciple stumbles, gripping onto the roof to keep his balance. "Ah! You startled me. How am I meant to step back now?"

Annoyance begins to build up within Lan Zhan at the Jiang disciple’s volume. He sniffs the air subtly, easily recognizing the bitter tang of alcohol surrounding the jars in the Jiang disciple's hand. Lan Zhan jumps onto the roof, eyes finding the Jiang disciple's own. They are silver, a shade darker than Brother's but similar enough in color. Lan Zhan feels unsettled for just a moment as he marvels at the resemblance between real silver and this Jiang disciple's eyes.

"What are you holding in your hand?" Lan Zhan demands, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if the Jiang disciple will admit to his rule-breaking or not.

The Jiang disciple looks from his hand and back to Lan Zhan, amusement swimming richly in the air. "It’s Emperor’s Smile! If I share a jar with you, can you pretend that you never saw me?"

Lan Zhan almost cannot believe the audacity of this Jiang disciple trying to bribe him. "Alcohol is forbidden in Cloud Recesses."

"Why don’t you tell me what exactly is not forbidden in your sect?" The Jiang disciple asks, his nose scrunched up in a manner that Lan Zhan finds he cannot look away from.

His annoyance has now evolved into irritation, none of it showing on his face but clear enough in his tone of voice. "Our rules are on the wall by the entrance. You should have read them when you arrived."

"Who has the time to read all those rules?" The Jiang disciple asks as he gets to his feet and smiles, the sight of it alone punching the air out of Lan Zhan's lungs. "Alright, if alcohol is prohibited in Cloud Recesses, then I won’t go in. I’ll drink it standing back here. That wouldn’t count as violating the rules, would it?"

Lan Zhan has only just regained his senses when the Jiang disciple gulps down an entire jar of Emperor's Smile, standing on the other side of the roof. A clear, small stream of alcohol trickles down his throat and glistens under the moonlight. A gust of wind passes them by as Lan Zhan’s agitation grows and Lan Zhan freezes. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, something deep within him unfurling and awakening as Lan Zhan catches the full force of this Jiang disciple's scent in the air.

He smells of lotus flowers and chili peppers, of something sweet like sugar and tart like berries. The Jiang disciple’s scent is both an unusual combination and exhilarating all at once. Lan Zhan's heartbeat increases, his breaths deviating from their normal pattern as the Jiang disciple finishes drinking from the dark jar in his hand. He watches him sigh, content, even as he blatantly disregards the rule Lan Zhan has so plainly explained to him.

There is a series of words on the tip of Lan Zhan's tongue, sweeping through his mind, and upturning his senses. He does not know what those words are until he has broken the second jar of Emperor's Smile after drawing his sword on this beautiful, brash Jiang disciple and fights him across the rooftop of the outer wall under the light of the full moon.

Silver. Shiny. Treasure, his instincts whisper to him.

"Treasure," Lan Zhan says under his breath as the Jiang disciple loudly mourns the loss of his alcohol. "...Mate."

a/n #2: please note those lines at the end that were lifted from the novel bc they are definitely not mine and i thought them fitting to include. i took bits and pieces of info about oriental dragons and mashed it with stuff about european dragons to create all this too.

thank you for reading my heart and joy! i spent months on this and hope to get part 2 out soon so we can all swoon over wangxian and their courting. but please be patient with me in case it doesn't come out very soon after all.

a huge thank you to eri for cleaning up the bulk of my rambling mess while still being super supportive. you're wonderful and i owe you one of my kidneys at this point. you can cash that in whenever you want, homie. and minzi did such an amazing job on the art and you should all shower minzi in love and adoration for it bc i know that i definitely will :((( <3

[crystal-moon-101]

I’m sorry, I’m not great at close up/slight dynamic poses! At least the shading looks nice...

Anywayyyy, here’s that ship picture I briefly mentioned before! This is suppose to be when Julie, Breach and Francis realized they were in love with their future partner. All of them had different circumstances when it hit them.

Also! I should probally mention that my redraws are also part of my own rewrite/reboot/remake or whatever you wanna call of it each show. I have a made up canon.

-Benlie-

It had been a while since Julie met Ben, went on a couple of dates, learned his secret, adopted an alien pet and watch Ben have fourteen baby chills. A strange life Julie got caught up in, but she is somewhat glad to be part of the galaxy world in someways. 

As for this relationship, is had been a quiet day where the two finally got a full date, without any chaos. It was also the time she got to see parts of Ben that he rarely displayed. His softer and cute goofball side, rather than overly confident hero pushed around. 

Yes, his bravery to go out and protect or save people is a big bonus to her, but seeing this calmer side made her realize just how complicated this boy was underneath, along with being comfortable enough to show her it. 

Her cute goof.

Notes:

A very up and down relationship for a while, but they finally  settled and become very much official sometime when they were seventeen. Somewhat thanks to Vilgax actually...

The pair have this cute little couple comfort thing where they’ll rest foreheads together. It always calms Ben, allowing him at least a moment to relax and think, thankful to have someone close as he does so.

While Ben has had plenty of other girls flirt with them, there once was a event where a prince alien was hitting on Julie. He was quick to put the prince in his place.

Ben likes to serenade her with his guitar skills~

Julie (With Ship as her battle suit) once beat the crap out of Vilgax when he was tormenting Ben.

It’ll take quite sometime before Julie’s dad will approve of Ben. He knows the kid’s not bad, he’s just protective of his little girl, especially with the kind of life he lives.

When his arm is replaced by the Omnitrix, she was one of the key people who helped him adjust to living with it, sometime using Ship to relieve the stress it put on him in the early days of having it.

She is one of the few people who can keep him in line.

When they get back together, Ben was absolutely nervous he would screw it up again, coming off a sweeter, yet more anxious at times. But she is patient, along with admitting she also caused problems in the past as well.

Many openly tell Ben they approve of her. His parents, grandparents, Gwen, Kevin, hell, even Azmuth.

They like having morning jogs together.

-Brex-

Breach had gotten herself caught up in...dangerous and dark matters. She was so scared, unsure how to process anything. So, she went to the only person she trusted at the time, Rex. 

The boy agreed to help, especially after seeing how distressed she was. Unfortunately, he ended up getting caught in the danger and the pair got stuck in a fight with some foes. Breach was wary, confused, hurting and panicked, her emotions uncontrollable. The fight, loud noises, people who hurt her, she couldn’t take it and snapped, her portals going crazy while she fled to the world of stillness. She had planned to stay there, away from all that scared and hurt her. But...Rex showed up, having chased after her.

Despite being battered, bruised and bleeding, this boy went to hell and back to reach out to her, telling her he wasn’t giving up on her, that he cares and wants to help, no matter what. 

She had never had someone so determined to help her. Most would cast her aside when they saw the ugly side of her. But in that moment, she realized something. Rex did care, he was her friend and he was real...and that she loved him for it.

Notes:

Their favorite movie to watch together is ‘Book Of Life’. The colours, characters and story always makes them happy. They even dressed up as La Muerte and Xibalba on Halloween.

When they first started dating, Breach was rather insecure. It was common knowledge that Rex was handsome with a charming personality, resulting in plenty of people flirting with him. It often made her wonder why he picked her out of all the other girls.

Rex loves their height difference, because he will often nuzzle the top of her head or hang his arms over her shoulders from behind.

They both support each other on the fact they both know they are powerful EVOs that can be destructive, promising that whenever either of them snaps, the other will do what they can to reach them.

When they’re older and live together, Breach actually uses her powers to move Rex’s old family home closer to Providence for them to live in.  

Rex has found a way to comfort her is by connecting their nanites. It keeps her grounded to reality and makes her feel closer to him.

When they start becoming friends, she likes to ask him all kinds of questions. Some serious, some not. He’s always happy to answer and explain how the world works to her.

You disrespect his girl, he won’t be afraid to disrespect you. (That or smack you.)

Her relationship towards Six and Holiday is somewhat iffy...but it gets there.

-Zancis-

It had been a a few month since Francis crashed with the Saturdays, hiding from his people. But over time, he started to feel...strange? He didn’t know what was wrong with him, so he began to invetiage.

Could he be sick? No, that wasn’t it, because it only happened whenever he was around Zak. They would still sass each other, but he knows it’s not old grudges jabbing away at him. Maybe his people put a code in his brain?...Nope, not that. 

He seems a good while trying to figure out what is wrong, when one day it finally hit him. Somehow, when walking into the kitchen one morning, seeing a dead tired Zak tying up his messing hair in the sunlight, was what made him realizes he had feeling for the fellow teen....it was also then he realized how screwed he was.

Notes:

It took a good while for Francis to gain the approval of each Saturday member. They were all so protective of their youngest member. Drew somewhat scared him the most.

His confession for Zak had...not been romantic in the slightess. Instead, he shouted out his feelings for him after a tense situation and argument. 

Zak is a very cuddly and snuggly guy, always wanting some kind of psychical contact with others. Poor Francis wasn’t use to kind of affection, along with how needy his boyfriend could get.

Zak is 100% the alpha of the relationship. He can be scary when he wants to be.

When they started dating, Francis did endly research on relationships (Both romantic and friendship), partner behavior and even about dragon, given Zak is partly one.

They still and always will love to tease and sass each other, making it somewhat a running joke to roast one another.

When Zak became aware of his feelings, he offer to start dating and see where it went. But it would take him a bit before he would start falling for his green boy.

As much as they tease each other, Zak is really the only person Francis can go to about his deep rooted issues. He had been learning a lot about family since joining the Saturdays.

Wadi is a hard core shipper of the two.

Francis swears he nearly had a heart attack after seeing what ‘The Hammerthrow’ was...

[sovonight]

So, I'm like... in love with your brain? For one, your understanding and implementation of concepts and themes is incredible, but also from both a technical and artistic level your art skills (drawing and writing) leave me awed. Also I'm ace and seeing content that celebrates being ace is... well. Aces. So while I could listen to you talk about anything forever, I was specifically wondering about some of the dynamics your other PCs have with their LIs?

sjhefbes thank you?! i’m actually speechless, partly bc i just didn’t think i’ve ever been able to do concepts/themes very well so i’m incredibly glad to hear that you think i do :’)) also hell yeah same (ace) hat!

as for my other pc’s.. oh man i think it’s just cela that’s at this level. all i have for revan and carth is soon-to-be-best friends where carth’s light flirty banter plays right into revan’s tendency to use banter to avoid talking too deeply about anything personal to them, but when the atmosphere shifts carth’s also the one with whom revan will speak seriously most easily. i’ll only be able to revise/do more after i know carth better, which is the reason i’ve been trying to replay kotor lately haha

besides revan i’d have to dig back into the archives, and that’s dragon age with a little bit of skyrim on the side? like there was this skyrim mod that added new voiced spouses, and i was like oh free real estate for another ace dynamic, and i wrote like one thing for them. with dragon age, inquisition was dull to me so nothing there, 2 was alright but i don’t think i ever built my hawke up bc i wasn’t invested enough to alter the romance that a blue hawke laid out, and when i played origins i was in high school and still trying to fit in and being ace hadn’t really clicked yet, so any warden/alistair dynamic i made up then was nonexistent at best and an overused straight dynamic at worst

i mostly only work on a pairing when i see something i want to… change? or reject? or there’s a take on it i haven’t seen anyone do in a way that i like? with the exile and atton, i wanted cela to be so, so quietly loving and honest, and i wanted to see atton take that, to accept that love without being able to reason it out of his grasp. atton’s got all those suggestive lines, but cela won’t play those games in ways that let him escape what he’s really saying, and the main reason i even started drawing anything with them was just to make that happen

it’s actually kind of rare for me to be this enthusiastic about a pc/li pairing bc i don’t usually find a spark this quickly– and bc i try hard not to slip into the pit of tailoring my pc’s to their li’s. like, bioware’s games especially push 1 or 2 dynamics at you through the flirt dialogue options that you have available and you either conform or you’re not getting a smooch at the end. meanwhile k2 lacked so much romance content that it galaxy-brained itself into being the best for romance content, bc it said hey, they fit together– find out how.

in almost any pairing though i love emphasizing just this… patient, enduring love running through all their interactions, once they come to feel that way. it makes me feel like i end up presenting any dynamic i do in the same way, so perhaps if you’ve seen one dynamic of mine you’ve seen them all, but i like it far too much to stop haha

[fancytrinkets]

Fanfic Author Asks

Tagged by @liquidlyrium (thank you, as always, I adore these!)

Author Name: FancyTrinkets

Fandoms You Write For: At the moment, it's all Good Omens. Past fandoms I wrote in were Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, and Mass Effect (unposted)

Where You Post: ao3 and tumblr. I have an old ffn account out there that still has some Dragon Age fic

Most Popular One-Shot: The Angel Line, most popular by far. (I guess more than a few people like the funny ones.) It's short and I wrote it entirely unplanned. Just woke up one Saturday with an idea and some free time ahead of me. It was September and I was really grappling with the ideas and drafts for my Good Omens Big Bang fic, and apparently different writing was how my brain wanted to relax and get away from it all. Of course.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: In Good Hands, another funny one, but this time a Dragon Age II fic. Varric was my favorite and I shipped him with Hawke so intensely. It's that dynamic I can't ever resist: best friends who love each other deeply and have a hard time coming to terms with it.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Not really sure? I think it's gonna be the next one I'm starting, though.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Gravity and angels, My Good Omens Big Bang fic. I thought of it as an extremely self indulgent fic, and for a long time during the drafting process, it was very messy and had a lot more flaws than where it is now. Ultimately, a very good, very honest conversation with my beta reader is what kept me going despite a lot of misgivings about what I was doing with it.

Good Omens has meant so much to me, and that's partly because it resonates with my experience leaving a religion that nearly destroyed me — literally, I was suicidal and hurting as a seventeen-year-old when I finally left religious schooling. And I'm glad I survived. But I don't think I would have made it out without the voices of the poets and seekers to help me. All that stuff is mixed into that fic and it felt super scary and weird and self indulgent to put it out there.

How Do You Pick Your Titles: Oh, I wish I had a good method. I hate titles. If nothing comes to mind, I just pick a phrase from the fic and go with that. *side-eyes The Angel Line*

Do You Outline: Sort of? When I have an idea I like, I try to write down as much as I can, as fast as I can, with no editing whatsoever. And that mess of words forms the basis of where I'm going. It's like an anti-outline, in that I think of outlines as orderly and methodical. And I don't do orderly. But I do always try to have a plan.

How Many of Your Stories are complete: Everything I have posted that's a real story — as opposed to little ficlet collections — is either complete or abandoned. I don't abandon fics anymore, but I did when I was writing Dragon Age stuff. I was younger then and much more wracked with doubt. Now I feel pretty sure I'm not going to post any part of a story unless the full thing is planned and going to be completed.

In-Progress: Nothing posted is in progress except multi-chapter collections of unrelated ficlets.

Coming Soon: It's gonna be really great. I don't have a title yet, OBVIOUSLY, but the anti-outline is 4,000 words and the story arc is beautiful. And just like Obliviate is a memory loss fic for people who hate memory loss fics, this one is a jealousy fic for people who can't stand the sight of jealousy fics.

Do You Accept Prompts: Maybe? I used to? Back in my Dragon Age days, I gathered all the Varric/Hawke and Merrill/Hawke prompts like precious stones, admired them and counted them and kept them safe until I was inspired to write. But I haven't really had a lack of things to write for Good Omens. (And in fact, I was probably a menace on the Good Omens Big Bang server thanks to all the prompt ideas I kept coming up with.) I've already filled up my own to-write list with prompts of my own.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For: Yeah, the one above without the title. The jealousy fic for people who loathe and detest the very notion of a jealousy fic.

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions: I love being tagged, but it stresses me to tag people. Anyone can grab this ask meme and run with it.

[onyour-right]

I just finished with season 2 of The Dragon Prince and lemme tell you, I was not expecting half the shit that happened.

- Ezran. My sweet baby boy. My strong, caring baby King. I love him, he’s utterly precious and I’m so proud of the person he’s becoming. He’s just such a gift and it was nice to see his interaction with the older characters, it just reinstated how much of a lovable character he is that everybody can’t help but to adore him. His close bond with Zym is the sweetest thing ever, and at the end when he decided to go back my heart was actually breaking at Zym’s reaction. But I’m just so glad that even though they’re not physically with each other they both still have that mental connection. I think it’ll be incredibly useful in the future if a war does start. Also, I know we only saw a little bit of Ezran with Corvus but their dynamic already kills me and I can’t wait to see where it goes next season. I love Corvus so much. Ok.

- Callum. I really enjoyed the journey that he went on this season; how he knew deep in his heart that magic was what he was called to do and so never gave up from that. I also found it so touching how he recited the words King Harrow had used when his mother had died, to try and explain it to Ezran :’) It was the sweetest. I also enjoyed his scenes with Claudia and how loyal he was to her friendship, but not blindly loyal that he wasn’t at least partly listening to what Rayla was saying. I’m excited to see where he goes from here.

- Rayla. My little sarcastic warrior daughter. I love her? How protective she is of BOTH boys even though it’s quite clear she’s crushing on Callum. I thought it was really sweet how even though she didn’t agree with the fact that Callum had used dark magic, she was still right there making sure he was okay and trying to reassure him. (Kinda reminded me of king Harrow and Queen Sarai - WINK WINK). I can’t wait to see her journey next season.

- Claudia and Soren. Listen. I was really conflicted with these two during this season, I didn’t know whether I could fully trust them not to carry out their mission. Soren also really annoyed me with his whole “act first, think later” motto, which ended up fucking him over. However I did enjoy seeing their struggle with it, because it’s clear they both genuinely are fond of the princes and don’t want any harm to come to them, but at the same time they want to impress their dad. Even after Soren reveals what his dad told him to do Claudia still doesn’t quite believe it, which I think is very interesting considering that her father was the one who basically told her to prioritise the egg over her own brother’s life. They both failed in their mission. It’s complicated. I’m still rooting for them to break away from the evilness that is their father. I’m also wondering whether Soren is completely healed now or if it’ll have some effects they didn’t think about? Or will Claudia have to keep on killing? If so, will she?

- Zym! My good boy, my precious boy. I’ve only had him for a few hours but if anything ever happened to him I’d kill everyone and then myself. He is such a sweetheart. Him listening to Ezran and trying to block out the sun, whew, I loved to see it. I just... I just want one. My reaction to him is legit the same as Claudia’s when she first saw him. He’s just too adorable. I’m interested in seeing what will happen now that he’s going to be reunited with his mother. Will it be a good reunion or nah?

- Queen Sarai. Goddamn. It’s criminal that we can’t see more of her, but in all the scenes we did see of her I just fell so completely in love. She’s badass, brave, soft, so caring, such a great mother! Ughhh, her death was so heartbreaking. I loved seeing the relationship she had with King Harrow (when they were fighting and the guards were placing bets - I just loved it. It spoke so much of their relationship and the type of atmosphere they created.)

- Mage Lujanne. What I really love about this show is that it portrays women of all ages as strong, powerful women and it doesn’t at all feel forced. Lujanne had me CACKLING. That line about her 3 husbands. Yo. Amazing. A woman after my own heart tbh. When she was giving Rayla advice but was so bad at it, I just had to laugh. She’s goofy but she’s not one to be played around with and I respect her for it. I hope we see more of her next season as well.

- Queen Aanya. YAAAAAS. That wit. The strength of her character. She reminds me so much of Lyanna Mormont because she doesn’t take any shit from anyone. She can damn right hold her own so if people are gonna come at her they better come correct and with FACTS @ Viren. What was it she said? “I’m a crown without an adult, and you’re an adult without a crown” LISTEENNNNNN. You better tell him Aanya, he ain’t shit!!!

- Aaravos.... Heh. HOW DARE HIS VOICE BE THAT DEEP AND THAT RICH. HOW DARE HE BE SO GOOD LOOKING AND SO MYSTERIOUS. HOW DARE HE LOOK SO DELICIOUS. “How may I serve you?” How about you [redacted] in my [redacted] and [redacted] [redacted]. The thing is I know he’s shady and he most likely will fuck everything up, but I really just enjoy watching him so much. He plays with us the audience and draws us into him and I just.... whew.

- Lord Viren. He can be offed now please. I’m tired of him. No wonder his “best friend” dumped him, his wife left him, people don’t wanna listen to him. Does he have good intentions? Hard to tell. He’s going about everything the wrong way. Queen Sarai gave her life to save him, and he honours both her and King Harrow by trying to have their sons killed??? Really??? I ain’t with it.

Anyways. Season 2 was dope. I loved TDP even more if that’s possible? I’m excited for season 3. I hope we get Runaan back because I really miss my husband. Also, more Captain Amaya because the lack of her was just sad. I also just wanna add, because I can’t not add my other good boy, but Bait is also the purest thing and I’ll defend him until the end <3 that is all.

[sunflowerspectre]

Overtime | Dungeons and Dragons Commission

 This is a 5k commission piece for an anon with their DND characters.

Title: Overtime Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons (DND) Summary: Neronvain never expected anyone to find him after he left his family, but here he is. On a stranded island after getting ‘caught’ twice by the same dragon slayer who is determined to do her job and get him back home to face his punishment only for their ship to get completely destroyed. Character(s): Neronvain, Algatharas, Original Tiefling Character (Desire) Rating: Teen Requested Word Count: 5k Final Word Count: 5,028

This is a sequel to Stranded 

Read it on Archive of Our Own

Commission Me | Tip A Writer | Twitter

Overtime | Word Count: 5028

Neronvain watches Desire from a distance, out of place and uncomfortable being in the middle of town. No one pays him too much attention, but he still does his best to stick to the shadows and the walls, avoiding the middle of the street and the vendors as much as possible. He had to argue with the ones that he did buy from until they gave him a decent, actual price.

Desire, however, does not seem to argue with the vendor much at all. She starts to, at first, get the price lowered from outrageous to slightly less outrageous but still overpriced. But the more that the vendor talks, the more she listens. The more that she begins to ooh and awe at all the right moments. He  could see the way that the vendor’s eyes lit up when she handed them the money. 

This absolute idiot. Neronvain mourns the fact that this is the person who he has to follow. How could someone so easily swindled be the same person who somehow convinced the High Council of Elves that he, of all fucking elves, can be redeemed? 

He really feels like he has reached what is certainly the lowest point in his life; though it may not make sense, this somehow, at times, feels worse than the cult. It is as if just being near her sucks out whatever little dignity he has left.

It makes it worse at how many times he’s failed at getting away. He learned really fast when he was forced to join her that running away simply does not work. She tracks him down too fast for him to make any headway. To make it worse, she is not scared of tackling him on sight if she so much as thinks that he is going to try to run. She is, surprisingly, strong. And quick.

He’s still sore from the last time she tackled him.

A few weeks in and he’s already given up trying. After all, what is the point? If she does not catch him and he does manage to get far away, what is he supposed to do? Go back to the kingdom that kicked him out? Go back to the cult that is definitely pissed at him? Chuth is not the forgiving type. He is sure that the dragon would find him. He may as well stay with her; at least he knows that she won’t kill him in his sleep and at least she has some decent dragon slaying abilities. Even if she’s failed to slay Chuth - twice. 

“You paid too much for that.”

Desire furrows her brows, her lip curling as she looks down at the trinket. It is an odd looking thing. He thinks that it is supposed to be a sculpture of a dragon, but it could be a dog. Or maybe a deformed cat.

“Good then maybe you’ll appreciate it better.”

Neronvain barely manages to catch it as she throws it at him at full force, the trinket hitting him square in the chest hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs.

_________________________________

To Neronvain’s displeasure, he waits for Desire’s signal. He can see the bandits from his hidden position; none of them have noticed any of the members of their party yet. Each of the bandits have a decent bounty on their head that will last them quite a while even if they split the bounties evenly. Neronvain hates to admit that he could honestly use the coin, even though he doubts that Desire will give him an even cut. 

He doesn’t see why they have to wait. The longer they wait, the higher the chance that they will be spotted and lose their element of surprise. He keeps glancing at Desire's hidden spot. She is the closest to the bandits than any of them, but to his surprise, she has not done anything to give away her location or theirs. 

Her eyes are focused. More focused than he thought she was capable of being. She doesn’t even acknowledge him, staring intently at her targets with a hand hovering at the weapon at her hip. Her eyes lack their usual spark of humor and instead are hooded. Serious. She does not make any motion to signal them to make their move yet. The bandits are all circled around a fire in the dark of the night, drinking and not having too much care for their surroundings. She has one of their members hide near one of the clearing in the treeline - the entryway to a route through the otherwise thick and dark woods.

Desire discretely moves to their horses. She makes a motion for one of the other members to join her and together, they cut the reins of the horses off from the trees. Effectively and quickly, she has disabled the bandits only means of transportation and their fastest getaway route.

Neronvain shifts with furrowed brows and thin lips before he shakes any thought that comes to his head out. Now isn’t the time or place to focus on her change of character or surprisingly good battle focus and strategies. He makes his move at Desire’s signal as she slaps the rears of the horses, causing them to run off into the woods. 

The bandits react fast, but not fast enough. Despite the fight that they put up, Desire manages to take charge and get them all tied up without too many problems. When some of them start to yell profanities, she gives the worst of them a hard knock to the head to render them unconscious while gagging the others.

“See, easy money,” Desire gestures toward their captives with an infectious grin, meeting his eyes with a twinkle, “Wasn’t too hard, was it? I think that’s about a good thousand each at least.”

The acknowledgement of their cut - and more specifically, the way that she meets his eyes as she mentions his half - catches him off guard. He thinks that her math is a bit off, but he doesn’t oppose the statement as he eyes her appreciatively, his own smile threatening to break through before he simply gives her a nod.

____________________________

Neronvain watches her in the bar with curiosity as he nurses a mug of ale. The low light of the tavern doesn’t do anyone any favors, making the entire establishment feel a mix of melancholic and untrustworthy. Everyone else in the bar is either wallowing in their pity, playing pitiful gambling games, or on the brink of fighting. Desire seems to have been roped into playing a gambling game with some of the other patrons - or more so, against the other patrons. 

Her eyes are lighter - a spark gleaming behind them that he doesn’t quite remember seeing before. Even her smile seems more carefree. He wonders what it would be like to be one of those people who can smile as easily as she does. But the most prominent feature is that she looks like she belongs.

He looks down at the mug, losing himself in the swirls of his drink as he downs it and orders another as he reminds himself that even he isn’t completely immune to her strange charm. 

He was never able to do that. He never figured out that part of communication very well, never really understood how to get along. Alagarthas could - his brother does. It’s why everyone always prefers Alagarthas over him, why he’s the one that they flaunt and crowned, why he’s the one that is always mentioned in meetings and is invited to the parties, the balls, the charities. Even when he was still a prince - he never belonged the same way that Alagarthas does. He argued. He fought back. He was too  abrasive. Too rebellious. He could never get anyone to agree with him nor did anyone want to.

His eyes drift to Desire. Her face is partly hidden by the cards she holds in her hands, coins in neat stacks along the table. He sighs deeply - the reason she holds her cards so close being too obvious. Everyone else at the table sees through it; she’s trying to hide her expressions because as smart (and dumb) as Desire can be, she still has her tells. Hers, in this case, is that the whole game she has kept her face steady until now; which means she either has the best hand or the worst, something in her hand changed so much that she has to hide her face now to keep her emotions a secret. 

Either way, it won’t be too hard for the other players to figure it out and Desire is going to be losing the coins she stacked very soon. 

He almost doesn’t do it, but after a brief moment, he takes one last drink before he saunters over toward the game table. He stands behind the person across from Desire discreetly, but she spots him the moment that she looks up. He presses a finger to his lips as a signal to stay quiet as he looks at the fellow’s hand. He gives her a few signals and she catches on fast.

They work like that - together - until each player at the table has to give up their hand as coins get pushed Desire’s way. Oddly enough, his chest feels warm and lighter as the corner of his lips twitch as she gives a few loud cheers. When Desire meets his gaze, he gives her a discrete nod before returning to his spot at the bar. 

To his surprise, as the attention died down on the game and patrons dispersed - some cursing at the win while others mourned their losses - Desire sits down beside him at the bar. She makes a bit of a show settling a heavy coin bag on the counter in front of her.

She doesn’t acknowledge him at first, ordering her drink, before Neronvain realizes the discrete small coin bag that is behind handed to him under the counter. He takes it with confusion, looking at her for answers.

She doesn’t give him any, instead smiling with a wink before she disappears with her drink.

________________________

Neronvain almost doesn’t notice it at first, the shift in their dynamic. It happens so naturally and organically, that he almost forgets that they used to be enemies. But it seems like all he does is blink and Desire is the one that is helping him back on his feet in a fight or hitting the guy behind him that he misses. She gives him that cheeky wink and grin every time too - as if she has always had his back. Like she plans to always do. 

It’s strange. Neronvain never really had any friends growing up, but here is with more friends than he’s ever had in his lifetime. Even the other members of their party have begun to accept him, inviting him to their parties and to their missions.

But something about Desire is different from the rest. He can’t put his finger on it, not yet. He doesn’t know if it’s because she’s the one who saved him or if it’s because she’s the first one to reach out to him, but something about her friendship feels different than the others. 

Deeper, almost. More natural. There’s no awkward tension or wall that he has to break down. He doesn’t have to explain himself to her and she never asks him to. It is as if she accepts him, but he didn’t think that type of acceptance is possible. He didn’t think that there is really anyone that is just that good that they can just accept him fully as a friend knowing what he’s done. And yet, in comes Desire with her dazzling smile and mischievous eyes.

He didn’t think anyone could be so charismatic and unintimidating, yet so strong either. He’s seen it in the cult and in his brother. You are either strong, intimidating, and solid, or you are charismatic and soft-willed. He’s tried to balance his wit with his strength, but even it gets shaky for him sometimes. But yet again Desire has proven him wrong; her strength in every fight makes her intimidating, but her strong heart is what makes her charismatic and likable. 

“Come on, we’re going to town.”

Desire’s grin spells future disaster - the type of disaster that is likely going to get them kicked out of another bar or get yelled at by a barmaid. Last time, a woman splashed her drink on his head and it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. 

Desire does not hesitate to grab him by his arm to drag him into town with her. Her grip is loose and gives him the chance to break free if he wanted. But he doesn’t object nor does he pull out of her grasp as he thinks about all the things that she has proved him wrong on; the number is staggering, honestly, but it doesn’t upset him. 

Oddly enough, it makes him happy. 

___________________________________

He tells himself that the parchment he received is not the reason that his hands are shaking. It’s not - it’s not - it’s not. His throat feels dry, a soreness building up around his neck as his chest feels warm.

Neronvain finds himself glad that instead of camping out, that they have rented rooms at the tavern for the night. It gives him a chance to go over this - what it means, how it makes him feel, how is he supposed to respond - in private. 

He sits down at the small, slightly rotting desk and chair in his room. His mug is already empty, but he can’t bring himself to go back down for another drink. Not right now. He doesn’t think that he can see anyone right now, not even the barkeep or his other party members that are most definitely still partying and drinking downstairs.

Alagarthas. 

He didn’t expect his brother to write him a letter; he didn’t expect his brother to do anything actually. It would be too dangerous, too risque. It would risk a scandal. Why would his brother risk so much just to get a letter out to him? The simple fact that he was able to do this without anyone else in the castle knowing about it is impressive. 

His brother has always had a habit of writing long letters that are often full of needless details, yet the letter he wrote is shorter than normal. It is more to the point and there is no beating around the bush or useless gossip. All the more reason that he can tell that his brother means every single word that he wrote - that he actually cares. The tremble in his hands worsen as he looks it over for the tenth time.

Desire told me where you are all staying. Alagarthas had written. It was a risky thing for her to do, but I cannot thank her enough for it because it gives me a chance to reach my brother and to apologize. For everything. 

Neronvain could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest and he venmously wipes at the corners of his eyes as he continues to read on. Everything that his brother wrote is like an arrow to his heart. Every single word is full of heart. Love. Care. Warmth. As Alagarthas writes about his mistakes, about how much he misses him, that he wants to see his brother again. 

Emotionally, it is a lot to process. A lot to take in and really believe. But the letter is in his brother’s handwriting and there are no signs of it being fraud or forced. His brother actually wanted to get a hold of him - to apologize for all things. Risking everything just to say sorry? To say that he cares?

It takes some time, a lot of time. But eventually Neronvain is able to write a letter to be sent back. He is careful to keep his hands steady with each word. He tries to keep his emotions in check, tries to keep it casual, but he thinks that a bit of his emotion seeps into a few words here and there. He rereads it over and doesn’t have the heart or the emotional energy to rewrite it.

With a heavy heart so full of emotion that it makes his chest feel heavy, he drags himself downstairs to be able to get his letter sent out. He sticks to the shadows and discretely stops at the bar to have a few more drinks sent to his room when he passes by the barkeep. He can see the others drinking, laughing, and cheering as a group with their mugs raised high. He can practically smell the alcohol on their breath from his position. None of them notice his presence or if they do, they don’t acknowledge it.

He does not see her. Not at first.The one person he does feel like seeing right now, the one person that made this possible. Desire is not partying with the others, at least not anymore. He isn’t sure if she got worn out from their shenanigans or if she is just getting one last drink before retiring for the night. She is not cheering or gambling, instead she is situated calmly at the bar with a particularly thoughtful expression on her face. Her eyes look dazed and hooded, like she isn’t all there.

He hesitates for a moment when he sees her, unsure about what he could say to her or even if he should say anything in the first place. He even briefly wonders if she is going to be sober enough for anything that he has to say at all. His eyes shift to the letter in his hands and makes a decision, stepping forward firmly.

He reaches out to her. 

She looks up at him with startled eyes when she feels his hand on her shoulder. He pauses, his eyes softening as he tries to find the words before he finally settles on the right choice of phrase.

“Thank you.”

Emotion drips from his words, even if he is not sure what emotion it is. But he feels raw like an open wound, exposed like a nerve. It’s unfamiliar and new. Different. It makes him regret all the drinks he had up in his room and the drinking he did before he retired to it in the first place. 

If he was sober, he isn’t sure if he even would be here in the first place; if he would let himself be so uncomfortably open. But he isn’t sober and instead, he squeezes her shoulder tightly and her palm settles on the top of his hand for a moment, their fingers almost entwining. The touch sends bolts through the back of his hand, shooting electricity through his veins in a way that makes him tense as he bites his tongue with a hiss.

Understanding dawns in her eyes as she glances at the letter that is threatening to get crumbled in his fist. A small smile settles on her lips with understanding. She does not give a lengthy explanation nor does she make a big scene of it. She doesn’t tell him why she did it or ask him if she did the right thing, or even how she managed to tell Alagarthas without anyone else finding out about it. She doesn’t even mention the gleam in his eyes or the raw emotion pouring from him.

She squeezes his hand back, patting it with a smile. Her eyes are shining with warmth that he hopes is returned.

“You don’t have to thank me, Neronvain.”

________________________________________

Desire notices it over time - like a disease that is spreading, except the only thing making them sick is the ability to care. The thought makes her giggle, the idea that happiness is a disease, but she can’t think of anything else that suits the situation with Neronvain.

First, she notices that Neronvain stopped trying to escape. She thought that he was just tired of her tackling him and she kept a close eye on him to make sure he wasn’t planning more discrete ways to get away. But then he didn’t. Then she thought that it was a sign that he’s given up. 

But then he started doing things - things that he didn’t necessarily have to do or say things that are actually nice. Things that are friendly or at least friendlier than he used to be. She’s seen the trinket that she threw at him before still with his belongings and she smiles knowingly that he has actually kept it.

As the months had gone on, Desire noticed that her sort of captive but not really captive actually seems to enjoy being around them - around her. Despite the way that he shuffles away from her at the campfire or tries to hide the twitch of a smile on his lips, he can’t hide his eyes. 

She sees the resemblance to Alagarthas in Neronvain’s eyes; something that she did not really see before since he was always glaring so harshly. But now? Now the edges of his eyes have softened. He still glares, but it lacks the same oomph. She even dares to say that at times, he looks even happy. He’s softer. Warmer. Nicer. Prettier.

She has to admit that when she made the deal with Alagatheris, this is not what she imagined. She knew that Neronvain was not evil. She knew from when they first met that something about him just didn’t fit so neatly into the category of evil. She saw that even more when they were stranded together. His brother even saw it when they were brought back.

But she still thought that he would never stop trying to get away, that he would fight tooth and nail against this decision. And she certainly didn’t think she’d start to see him as a close friend. As her best friend. She didn’t imagine that there was going to be a day where she could be so fully relaxed around him and be herself. 

“You’re making that face again.”

Neronvain sits down beside her at the campfire. He does not try to avoid her anymore. He doesn’t even try to keep a certain distance between them. Not this time. Their shoulders are grazing against each other. She can smell the alcohol in his hands and feel the warmth of his body beside her and she relishes in its comfort.

She takes the drink that he offers as she denies his statement with forced laughter and a scoff.

“What face? I don’t make a face?”

Neronvain just glances at her with a cocked brow and she knows that he sees right through her. He always does. 

“You’re always making faces.” He points out bluntly and her face drops as she pouts playfully, her eyes twinkling. He chooses to ignore the ‘you really do notice me’’ comment from her and continues, “But you always make that face when you’re thinking about something sappy.”

Sappy is the only word that he can think of that suits her expression, even if it does not cover the full force of the expression and how it affects him.

Neronvain’s lip curls on the word, his nose scrunching in mild distaste. It is an unfortunate thing that he noticed with her; the facial expressions that she makes gives away her thought process, even if she doesn’t verbally speak a word. It comes in handy at times - with him being able to pick up exactly what she’s getting tripped on saying or to know what she wants to do before she even lays out the battle plan. Not so much during their gambling matches or betting rings; not that it stops him from being on her side or betting on her every time.

But then there is this face. This puppy-dog, doe-eyed expression that softens the edges of her face in a way that makes him want to - do something. It almost reminds him of Alagarthas, in the way that his brother would give him those big eyes to convince him to do things that they should not be doing. 

But she does not use this doe-eyed, pleading, almost wistful look to get what she wants despite that he knows that she could if she wanted. She never uses it to seduce the enemies or to con her way through things. As much as even he hates to admit it,  but if she used that look on him to ask him for something, he would be inclined to say yes.

Instead, she gets that far-off wistful gleam in her eyes at the campfire or a few times, at the tavern after enough drinks. 

It makes him wonder about what she is thinking. It’s one of the few times that he can’t directly tell where her thoughts are. He wonders if she is thinking about the past. Does she think about it in such a good light that it makes her happy or does she think about all the things that she could have done instead? Does she think about the things she could have changed? Or does she spend time wishing that certain people around her treated her differently? Does she fantasize about how things could be?

He takes a long drink after that last thought. It’s better if he doesn’t ask. He knows he lacks  any right to ask, that it is not his place, and he gets the feeling that he is better off not knowing.

Desire has always been nothing but straightforward, she never hesitates to talk. If she really wants to talk about it - if it is something that she can talk about - then she will. If she doesn’t, it is probably something that should not even be mentioned about aloud in the first place. It is one of the things that he’s come to like about her.

No hidden motives. No hidden objectives. No backstabbing or betrayal. No sleeping with one eye open. She is an open book and he enjoys that she lets him read her pages. That she can be so open with him, that she trusts him enough to.

“I was thinking about you,” Desire states simply.

The confession makes him sputter over his drink, looking at her with slightly widened eyes. He feels his heart stop. She looks startled before cursing under her breath, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

“Wait - no! I meant about why you’re here, what got us here in the first place.”

Neronvain relaxes a bit at her words. Even if there is this  unexplained stirring in his chest at her sudden denial, as if he would be the last person on her mind. As the second half of her sentence processes, a rock settles at the bottom of his gut.

“You’re thinking about how  you regret it,” Neronvain presses, closing his eyes tightly as his grip on his drink grows tight. A part of him always feared that. That she would come to her senses one day and realize that she didn’t do the right thing. He just didn’t think that it would come so soon. 

He jumps when she slaps him against the back, his drink spilling just enough to leave a wet spot on his knee. Her strength causes him to get winded and he struggles for a moment to catch his breath as he curses under his breath.

“Stop that,” Desire snaps, her eyes narrowing at him, “Stop assuming the worst, not everyone dislikes you or dislikes having you around, you know? I know that I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

Neronvain glances at her as she sighs deeply and leans against him. The close proximity and the casualness of such intimacy makes him tense before he rolls his shoulders and accepts the motion. Her head makes its place on his shoulder and he gently tilts her head in just the right way so that he doesn’t have to worry about his throat accidentally  being gouged out by her horns. Despite the curved tip being pointed toward her, he still tries to be as careful as he can.

“Of course I don’t.”

Desire’s voice is firm as she continues with ferocity, “We’re friends and I don’t regret my friends. I certainly don’t regret helping them when I can either. I was just thinking that I didn’t expect us to become such good friends when this all started or when we first met. I always knew you weren’t evil - but -”

She falters, unsure of how to word it in a way that doesn’t come off as wrong or rude. But Neronvain knows what she is trying to say and he isn’t offended. His lips thin and adjust himself so that she is more comfortable leaning against him. She glances at him sheepishly, but he is the one who finishes her sentence.

“-But you didn’t expect me to be so good either.”

It is not a question, it doesn’t have to be when they both know that it is exactly what she meant to say. He doesn’t blame her - how could he? When they first met, he certainly didn’t give her any reason to think that he had any good left in him, especially not this much of it left. He didn’t even think he was capable of it either, but it seems like Desire has done exactly what she told the council she would - she reformed him.

She shrugs, not denying the statement nor arguing against it. She glances at him and almost expects him to be upset, but he just sits there calmly with sad eyes. 

“I didn’t expect myself to be so good either.” His voice is soft, withdrawn and careful., “I had begun to believe that I didn’t even have any of it left.”

“I used to think that I wasn’t good either,” Desire admits. Her confession is startling, but he doesn’t press for answers as a shared understanding passes between them.

Desire raises her drink and after a moment, Neronvain does as well, their mugs clinking against each other. 

“Here’s to being good.”

[ladyandtheghost]

Reason #22: The Queen, the King and his ‘Key’: Sansa is the “Key to the (King in the) North, a.k.a. Jon’s ‘weakness’ and Cersei will use it. 

This is a speculation meta about what I (like many others) believe could be a likely scenario for Season 8 involving Sansa, Jon and Cersei. Earlier this year there had been spoilery pics that may have hinted at a possible ‘abduction’ plot, which would confirm that Cersei will manage to retrieve Sansa from Winterfell and bring her back to King’s Landing and that Jon will come after her.

In earlier metas we’ve discussed how Sansa is Jon’s big “weakness” (mirroring Missandei being Grey Worm’s only weakness), meaning the prospect of something “happening” to Sansa is to her is Jon’s secret fear. Some might argue now that this could also apply to Arya, only that Arya is far more dangerous to Cersei than the other way around and more than capable of defending herself, ergo it is highly unlikely that Arya would ever be in danger of being captured. With Sansa, however, there have been heavy hints and foreshadowing galore that sooner or later Cersei will get her hands on her, and that she will not be forever *safe* in Winterfell.

And the reason why I am quite excited about this possible scenario rather than terrified is because I think this will entail a plot that might bring Jonsa to the surface and take the “sub” out of the Jonsa “subtext” of S6 and S7…

So how would this actually come about? 

The “Protection” Challenge: 

Sansa’s infamous statements regarding her safety - “No one can protect me.” (6x09 and 7x01) not only sound like a challenge to Jon, but also as if she is somehow jinxing herself. Unlike Jon, Sansa is constantly aware of the threat Cersei poses to all of them, and to herself in particular. And she reminds him of it: “There’s nothing between us and Cersei.”: 

Sansa: “If you’re her enemy she’ll never stop until she’s destroyed you. Everyone who’s ever crossed her she’s found a way to murder.”

 Jon: “You almost sound like you admire her.”

 To Jon, Sansa’s words sound hyperbolic – like he cannot imagine Cersei having such strength and power. The Cersei Sansa paints here sounds like an Super-human who can make the impossible possible and Jon doesn’t believe in this kind of power coming from a Lannister (he’s met Tyrion before so). To him the threat – also to Sansa – is in the North, not the South and he doesn’t *want* to worry about Cersei as well, no matter how much Sansa talks of her as an almighty force to be reckoned with here.

And this imo is yet another sign that Sansa will be right and Jon will be wrong - the Battlement Scene about Cersei is basically a reprise of the ‘Tent scene’ and Sansa telling Jon that he does not *know* the enemy like she does and that he is underestimating her. Jon dismissing her worries will definitely come back to haunt him…

 Bottom line is, if Cersei does manage to get Sansa this will be a major narrative twist that will affect a lot of major characters. In another post I write about Sansa’s “Queen’s Watch” and all the characters who have come to care about Sansa and protected her at some point in her life: Brienne has sworn an oath to protect Sansa and if Cersei gets her, well, we remember how she reacted after she failed to protect Renly. At the moment Sansa has the most skilled assassin in the world by her side and we know that Arya is already hellbent on killing Cersei, so kidnapping Sansa would only give her another reason. The Hound and Tyrion might reunite with Sansa and both of them have cared about her wellbeing in KL, so here is another two characters who would give a shit about Sansa being abducted by Cersei.

HOWEVER, the character who would without a doubt be the most affected by such a plot would be Jon. From the moment of their reunion when he declared that “father’s ghost” would come and murder him if he failed to protect Sansa to the Tent Scene were he promised to protect her, to his choking the living daylight out of Littlefinger, it is being made BLATANTLY clear that Jon is extremely protective of Sansa. This even comes up in their subtexty-UST squabbles: 

If Cersei manages to retrieve Sansa and bring her to King’s Landing, we WILL see Rage-Kitten-Jon ON STEROIDS. We saw him completely lose the plot with LF in the crypts, so there is no doubt that Jon will go absolutely nuts if *anything* happens to Sansa in S8. And I think this will also be incredibly interesting in terms of the Political!Jon debate. Right now, many viewers are led to believe that Jon is acting on “emotion”, that he knelt to Danii and declared her his Queen in front of the Dragon Pit crowd because he is in love with her and acted on “feeling” rather than rationally and politically. I personally think that we will get to see in Season 8 that all of Jon’s actions in S7 had actually been rational and calculated and political IN CONTRAST to his actions in Season 8 which will be driven by emotions and feelings, namely when Sansa is in danger.

Right now Jon thinks he’s on top, he has Daniis’ support and two dragons at his disposal, he feels in control of the situation. And we know that this rug will be pulled from under his feet several times in the last season, with the Targ reveal to begin with. There will be challenges and “trials and tribulations” for Jon in S8 and one of them will involve his failure to protect Sansa from Cersei and we will see him do everything in his power to get her back. His interactions with Cersei so far had been all political - but when it comes to Sansa, it will be very much PERSONAL. 

Sansa and Cersei - A “Complex” Relationship: 

 It’s imo one of the most fascinating relationships on the show, because there are so many different layers and overtones between Sansa and Cersei that you are never quite sure how they feel about each other. It’s a very twisted, complex Mother-Daughter-Friend-Enemy-Love-Hate relationship that was acted incredibly well by both actresses. The fact that all through S7 antis and haters would insist that Sansa was “becoming” Cersei (the only indicator being that her wig looked similar to Lena’s earlier wigs) shows that a lot of viewers do not even understand the complexity and nuances of this relationship.Sansa admits that she learned from Cersei - which does not mean that she learned to be a bitch or how to take revenge on people, it means that she has watched her carefully and understood how the “Game” works which enables her to turn it around and protect herself and her loved ones from other “Gamers” such as LF. There is no doubt that Sansa is repulsed by Cersei’s actions and when she “acts” as QitN in S7 we actually see her making the opposite choices that Cersei would have made: making sure there is food for all the people, refusing to seize power from Jon when the Northern Lords begin to rebel against him...all of this makes her the Anti-Cersei rather than a copy of her.

 The Queen’s Persecution: Sansa as Snow White, or, The YMBQ : 

When I saw the still^^ from “Mirror Mirror” the other day, I suddenly got this Sansa-Cersei vibe that had me consider their dynamic as being very much inspired by the fairy tale: vain narcissist mother-figure/Queen, kills King and seizes power, paranoidly fears “younger and more beautiful” daughter-figure/princess will arise and “cast her down”, evil Queen wants her dead, princess has to flee, finds refuge in a home with seven men who love her, guard and protect her...and once the Queen who believed her dead finds out she is alive and happy, does everything in her power to come after the princess.

The prophecy by Maggy the Frog of the “younger more beautiful” queen coming to cast Cersei down and take all she holds dear sounds is definitely a parallel to the famous mirror in Snow White that told the Queen that there was someone “displacing” her as the “most beautiful” in all the lands.

Cersei thought this “other” would be Margaery, and now she thinks it’s Danii, but looking at all these parallels to Snow White, it’s really Sansa who fits the role of the “other”, the princess who is “more beautiful” best, not only in her relationship with Cersei, that was quite ‘evil step-mother’-like but also in terms of her entire storyline of being persecuted and fleeing KL and finding a home and seven people who love and guard her...

To me this is just another heavy hint that there will be an abduction plot involving Sansa and Cersei in S8...

The thing is, Sansa is sure that Cersei will kill her as soon as she gets her hands on her, but I am not altogether sure that this will be the case. Vain and narcisstic as Cersei is, she likes to have people around who flatter her, make her feel powerful and “reflect” her (”Mirror, mirror on the wall like”) - Jaime being the best case - or her own flesh-and-blood, her children. Most interestingly, of all her children, the one Cersei loved the most was her daughter, Myrcella. But ironically not because she reflected her, but because she was so unlike her. 

As is Sansa.  

And this is partly why I think that Cersei will NOT kill Sansa (though she will make her a prisoner), aside from the fact that Sansa is far too valuable a hostage. Weird as it sounds, but Cersei had a genuinely soft spot for Sansa, at least as far as she was capable of having “affection” for someone other than Jaime and her children. Of course she did not love Sansa like she loved her offspring but we know that Cersei cared for Sansa in a half motherly, half mentoring kind of way. Cersei treated Sansa much like a pet (not unlike Joffrey, but without the sadistic psychotic overtones). She called her almost affectionately “Little Dove” and as Sansa herself complains that Cersei won’t leave her alone, Shae notes that the Queen probably sees something in Sansa that makes her seek her company: 

Basically a huge compliment^^

This in turn is also why - despite knowing that it was Olenna who killed Joffrey - Cersei still resents Sansa and would do everything to steal her from WF and Jon. She felt betrayed on a PERSONAL level and we know how she reacts on such occasions: 

Indeed. And she will fetch them back. 

It is often said that Cersei sees ‘herself’ in Sansa. I do agree that Cersei sees “something” in Sansa or at least “senses” something about her that simultaneously fascinates and repulses her. I don’t think it’s that she sees “herself” so much than the opposite. If anything Sansa reminds her of Myrcella, of whom she said: 

“She was good. From her first breath, she was so sweet. I don't know where she came from. She was nothing like me. No meanness, no jealousy, just good.”

At the same time there is also something in Sansa that she does not trust and that she also resents - a lot: 

“You’re perfect, aren’t you?” 

When Sansa “acts” more responsible and Queen-like than her, calming down the women with song and prayer in the middle of the crisis rather than drinking wine in a corner - Cersei tries to make Sansa “act” more like her, orders her to sit and drink with her and talks of seducing Stannis and how Sansa should learn to use what’s between her legs. It’s a popular scene that often earns Cersei kudos for being so “honest” and telling it as it is, but what this scene really highlights is how she did NOT manage to turn Sansa into a younger version of herself - but that instead Sansa clearly somehow affected Cersei who realized that the “girl” she always looks down to has qualities that she will never possess - even if she regarded those qualities as weaknesses at the time. The ironic twist that Cersei’s greatest enemy (beside the Valonqar) - the YMBQ - could be her own ‘pet dove’ who she had trusted and been grudgingly fond of, would make all their scenes of previous seasons so much more poignant.  

Jon Snow’s Weakness --- Sansa as the “Key to the (King in the) North”: 

First as a hostage, then as “key to the North”, Sansa was always a valuable prisoner to the Lannisters. And I think that at some point Cersei will realize how important Sansa is to people - and most especially to Jon -  which would make her not only a political hostage but also a personal one.  

Jon Snow, where we last saw him at the end of S7, is currently (and quite literally) “on top” of the game. He is in the best possible position to see his plans through with two dragons and a Targaryen to ride them at his disposal, with a Dothraki army and basically all other armies Danii commands at his disposal, with dragon glass galore and the entire North united, ready and prepared for battle – and on a more personal level – with the bonus happy news of Arya and Bran being alive and safe in Winterfell…Jon is flying HIGH right now.

And Jon believes that the battle against the Night King and the WW will be the hardest thing he will have to face – he also thinks that he’s prepared for all the losses now, for all of them to win or die in the war against the Dead.

We already know that there will be one major shocker for Jon to cope with: the Targaryen reveal. And while I think this will bring on a major identity crisis for Jon, I can’t see this distracting him from the battle he was single mindedly focused on for so long. Jon tells us himself that the Night King is all he can think of:

“I’m consumed with the Night King because I’ve seen him. And believe me, if you’d think of little else if you had, too.”

The word “consumed” always gets me here when people assume that Jon is actually genuinely “distracted” by Danii or has feelings for her. Jon says it more than once – ALL he can think of is the Night King and ALL he is consumed with is the Night King and NOT Danii Targ. If anything, DT fits perfectly into Jon’s plans against the NK.

I mean could it BE any more convenient for Jon? The thing that supposedly distracted you from your biggest enemy just HAPPENS to be the weapon against your biggest enemy. Ever since they won Winterfell back, ever since Ramsay is out of the way, Jon had been named KitN and succeeded in all his endeavours (similarly to DT in Essos) – because he just HAPPENED to fall in love with the “right” woman?

I won’t get into Political!Jon theory now – but let’s just say that it would explain the weirdly overly “convenient” narrative of S7 and give a lot more depth to Jon’s character and supposed “luck” in securing the deadliest weapon imaginable for his war just by merit of falling in love.

Regardless of what happens with the Night King, or what the Targaryen reveal will mean for Jon – both have little to do with the fact that Jon is underestimating the “enemy in the South” and that 

Cersei will be the “factor” Jon does not reckon with.

In many ways, what we will see in S8 is a “chain” of weaknesses: Cersei hates D and wants her dead but D is supposedly the strongest and has no weaknesses --- except the King in the North whom she is in love with. The King in the North in turn also has one weakness --- his sister/cousin Sansa Stark.

Logic (for Cersei): Sansa is the “key” to controlling Jon.

I’m sure a lot of Antis/Haters/D and JD stans will spit and spew and claim that even IF Cersei had it in for Sansa --- Jon wouldn’t care THAT MUCH about Sansa. And I say, please rewatch all of S6 and S7 and you will realize that there is a pattern, a theme almost of Jon caring for and TRYING to protect Sansa with everything he has.

And I say “trying” because Jon still has to actually fulfil his promise and keep the oath he made to Sansa: “I’ll protect you, I promise.” And I do not mean to demean Jon’s fighting efforts in the BoB, he did everything he could to protect Sansa – but fact is that in the end, Jon had to be saved by Sansa and Sansa was in turn saved by LF and the Knights of the Vale. The thing is, Jon is very much AWARE of this failing on his part. I wrote about this and how this also stoked an underlying rivalry between Jon and Littlefinger in another post and it rankled with Jon that it was Littlefinger who came to Sansa’s “aid” when he failed to protect her. Viewers are actually repeatedly reminded of all the times other characters “saved” and protected Sansa: Brienne and Pod and Theon – which even gets its own big scene at the beach when Jon tells Theon “what you did for HER”) So…the question is what will JON do for HER in Season 8? After all the foreshadowing and all the times Jon and Sansa talk about his protecting her and not letting anyone “touch” her and Jon choking the shit out of Littlefinger, literally “demonstrating” what he will do to anyone who “touches” his ‘sister*...

I feel very strongly that Sansa will be the “Key” to Jon’s arc in Season 8 (as D had been in S7) also because so many viewers don’t even pay attention to her, she is the perfect Red Herring. We know there will be a showdown with Cersei that will involve Sansa, because nothing and no one else could be reason enough for Jon to fight, kill and die for to protect other than the woman he swore to “watch over” and guard with his life, the woman he nearly chocked a man for admitting that he wanted her, the woman he spared a family traitor for because he owned him her life...

They demonstrated his protectiveness of Sansa for a reason. Arya is just as important to Jon, but she will not be the “Key” in Season 8 as she has her own story to finish, her own demons to slay (Cersei being only of them). 

Jon threatened to kill Littlefinger “himself” if he touched Sansa. Now that Littlefinger is dead, this scene has become a stand-in for someone, anyone who dares to touch Sansa…

So if we’re all not totally off with our speculations and the abduction plot does happen, we it’s safe to say tht Jon will go totally berserk and it will be a thing of beauty (at least for Jonsas everywhere):