#reincarnated!founders

[driedlillies]

impure world reincarnation part 1

Imagine.

Orochimaru ressurects the four hokage during the fourth shinobi war. Hashirama does his whole speech, they get told what’s happening out there, the usual. Suddenly, Tobirama stops silently fighting for control as he’s been doing since he felt the connection to the pure lands shut closed.

“If Madara is behind this war…” everyone can see the mental calculations in his eyes, “where did you steal my Edo Tensei Technique from?”

Orochimaru raises an eyebrow. “A laboratory in the northern mountains. The barrier seals were a work of art, a masterpiece of its own.”

“Did you discover any of my other labs?”

“Other?”

The Second Hokage nods continuously, deep into thought.

“Um, Tobirama?” Hashirama asks sternly. “I know that look on your face, what did you do?” Sasuke notes it’s a tone of voice he can vaguely recall Itachi using on him in their youth — an older brother absolutely done with his younger sibling’s antics.

“I… might have an idea. Wait a moment,” and with that, he teleports out of the room.

The non-Kage stare at the empty spot the Second was standing in a moment ago. Minato lights up.

“Oh, wow, I’ve always wondered how it originally looked,” Hashirama turns around and looks at him, so the Fourth explains, “I improved and mastered it. It was sort of my signature?” He adds a bit sheepishly. Hashirama gives him a smile.

“I’m glad Tobirama’s work is getting continued, then. He was always a great inventor, he just sometimes didn’t know when to stop.” He pointedly side eyes Orochimaru, who ignores it.

Then, Tobirama snaps back into the room. He’s holding a vial of a red liquid. The snake sannin looks very attentive.

“Okay, don’t be mad,” he starts, looking at Hashirama (who quickly rebutts “How do you expect me not to get mad if you start off like this?!”), “but I have an idea on how to throw Madara off, if not stop him in his tracks altogether.”

“What is that?”/“Who is that?” Minato and Orochimaru ask at the same time.

“Uchiha Izuna’s blood.”

[damien-wolfram-art]

Ghost Can – and Will Dance at Weddings

A sequel to: “Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@hashimada-week

It was a beautiful spring day in The Uchiha village. The warm golden midday sun dappled through the rows of cherry blossom trees, yuinou wedding gifts, and outdoor speakers that framed a massive promenade. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the pink petals and carried their lightly sweet scent over the hundreds of guests gathered before a brazier that was situated beneath an ornately crafted torii gate.

Even with all the beauty and the pleasantness of the season, Hashirama had never felt so tense. He was standing just behind his younger brother, Tobirama. His wife, Mito, his parents, and his three children were situated behind him, but his attention was centered dead ahead where he sensed a growing bitter iciness. Izuna Uchiha would be coming from there, but instinct told him that it wasn’t Izuna he was sensing.

The gruff voice of Fugaku Uchiha, one of the longest standing members of the Uchiha Clan, announced the start of the procession over the speakers, shocking Hashirama to attention, “Welcome, honored guests, to this momentous occasion! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju. Let us revel in the joy and love that fills the air!”

Ahead of his section, Hashirama sensed the chill growing closer. Izuna was approaching with a lit torch held close to his chest. He was positively radiant in its amber glow and Tobirama, who looked more exhausted than usual, even managed to perk up upon seeing him in his matching wedding kimono. Normally, seeing his brother light up this way would spark joy in Hashirama’s heart, but as the procession moved forward, Izuna and Tobirama turned to approach the torii gate together. Then, Hashirama saw him– Madara Uchiha.

The squealing flutes and staccato drum beat of live gagaku music accompanied the procession. Hashirama was late to his queue- too busy staring at the undead man whose sharingan red eyes looked right through him, leaving him feeling frozen to his spot. Before he knew it, he was over a meter behind and his wife, who was equally surprised by the appearance of the ghost, had to nudge her husband to get him moving. By then, he had to jog past the ghost’s mother to catch up and walk alongside him.

To the left of the procession, past Madara, were the many eyes of the Uchiha village; their wonderfully crafted gifts of tapestries and iron works were scattered all around them. To the right, although Hashirama certainly wasn’t paying much attention there, were the guests from The Leaf. They brought gifts of trees symbolizing growth and stability in a relationship as well as fruitful love lives. They brought sake barrels full of both sake and mochi to break open. Many of The Leaf’s denizens also brought gifts of honey wine: a delicacy the Senju had come across in their time as nomadic forest dwellers. It was said that after some heavy rain, water laden bee hives were harvested and that was the start of a Senju tradition. A gift of honey wine was a gift of hope for the couple to go on to live their lives in sweetness though some had snakes in the bottles. This imparted a different meaning. Many believed that the snakes would bestow their strength, stamina, and most importantly virility to their drinkers.

When the procession reached its destination past all the standing guests and the generous gifts, Hashirama looked to Madara again. He wanted to say something, but whenever he thought about speaking to him, his chest ached, and his words were trapped in his throat. There was a quiet murmur from the crowd– especially on the Uchiha side, but no one dared to interrupt the ceremonies. Hashirama and his family sat to the right of the brazier. Izuna’s family, Obito, and Fugaku’s family sat to the left. Tobirama and Izuna stood on their respective families’ sides of the brazier.

Another staccato drumbeat silenced the music and signaled the end of the procession. Fugaku approached from behind the couple, gesturing openly toward Hashirama as he began an important address, “Before we commence this sacred ceremony, it is essential to express our deepest gratitude and acknowledge the unwavering support of a beloved brother, Hashirama Senju. As Tobirama's elder brother, Hashirama has not only played an integral role in his life, helping Tobirama thrive even amidst challenging times, but has also made a generous goshugi contribution, making this wedding possible.”

Hashirama bowed awkwardly at the acknowledgement. While it was true that he had provided the funding for most of the ceremonies and that he loved his younger brother dearly, given the Madara shaped elephant in the room, he was rightly uncomfortable with receiving such high praise. He couldn’t help but look in Madara’s direction to see how he was taking it all. To his surprise, Madara seemed to care very little about him. The dark suited man was simply looking forward with a pleasant smile on his face.

Another drumbeat brought Hashirama to attention once more. Fugaku had his head bowed in reverence. Tobirama and Izuna followed suit. Then, the crowd did the same. “During this momentous occasion, we also take a moment to honor the memory of a cherished father, Tajima Uchiha. As Izuna's father and a former leader of our clan, Tajima's spirit lives on in all of our hearts. We know he would be immensely proud of the remarkable example Izuna has set for the Uchiha clan. Though he may not physically be with us today, his presence is felt, reminding us of the significance of family and the enduring bonds that transcend time,” Fugaku said with a serious and prideful tone.

Though his head was bowed, Hashirama’s eyes kept wandering to his left. Madara was playing along and miraculously, no one was questioning his attendance despite his life being lost over a year ago. He couldn’t fathom how his younger brother had pulled it off.

He remembered warning Tobirama time and time again that the dead were not to be trifled with. He had scolded him endlessly for having a god complex. He’d told him that a jutsu to bring back the dead would never work, and that people would start asking questions. He was wrong. 

Everyone raised their heads and Fugaku’s voice took on a slightly more uplifting tone; this was difficult for him since he was usually a very serious man, but he did his best, “Today, Izuna and Tobirama stand before us ready to embark on a journey of love, commitment, and shared dreams. For the Uchiha, fire is a powerful force that can cause great destruction, but it can also warm us, bring us together, and shelter us.”

Hashirama’s dark eyes widened at the mention of fire and guilt rose up within him, making him suddenly nauseous. “To share your Flame with another– it is to wholeheartedly accept them for all their flaws and to cast aside all judgements. It is to love them unconditionally with every fiber of your being. Furthermore, it is a promise to forever learn and improve together,” said Fugaku; Hashirama swallowed– hard.

 “As The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju, let us join together to celebrate their union and offer them our blessings, support, and well-wishes. May their love grow stronger with each passing day. May they find happiness, success, and fulfillment in one another. With joy and anticipation, let us commence this blessed wedding ceremony!”

Izuna was smiling when he passed the torch to Tobirama. Tobirama took his duty very seriously. As the flutes rang out again, he took the torch that was marked with a white and red tipped uchiwa fan, the crest of the Uchiha. With the utmost of care, he then held it over the brazier between them and it burst alight.

There was a musical flare before some silence. Then, Fugaku led the applause and said, “so, The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju! With this Flame, we recognize Tobirama as Uchiha. May this blazing brazier serve as a symbol of his acceptance into our clan!”

From there, the ceremony moved on. Hashirama was left feeling shell shocked. He clapped for a little too long and his wife needed to correct him again. Feeling her small hand rest on his thick forearm he looked down at it; understanding her concern, he apologized profusely and quietly.

Next, the couple of the hour began the ritual of San San Kudo. As a koto player from the Uchiha began plucking some strings, Fugaku moved to be seated and his wife, Mikoto, took his place, quietly filling the first of three sakazuki cups with three splashes of sake. Izuna graciously accepted the cup with a bow, raising and lowering it twice before drinking. He then returned it to Mikoto respectfully. She filled it in the same way once more and then passed it to Tobirama, who mirrored Izuna’s movements perfectly. During this first drink, the couple thought of their parents and the bonds that were made leading up to their union. During the second cup, they thought of their human flaws of hatred, passion and ignorance. For hatred, funnily enough, they thought of each other and their troubled pasts. For passion, Izuna thought of his brother, Madara; his passion had proven fatal after all. Tobirama however, was still thinking of Izuna and feeling only a little guilty about it. For ignorance they both thought of Hashirama and with the third cup they were released from these flaws.

If only Hashirama could have been so lucky. Instead, he had to endure what was admittedly a beautifully crafted sado tea ceremony hosted by Mikoto with all of the important seated guests; this included Madara who was sat directly across from him and maintained the same stoic aloofness that he had throughout the other ceremonies. After that, came the hiroen reception party, where those seated maintained their positions and partook of a meal consisting of some of the wedding couple’s favorite foods.

There was a bountiful spread of river fish, prawns, pickled vegetables, white rice, miso soup, sekihan– red bean rice (for good luck), inarizushi, more tea, honey wine, and of course sake. It was a filling and delicious meal. Still, Hashirama couldn’t help but feel like he was the only one uncomfortable around an eating, drinking, and talking corpse.

He typically loved these sorts of events, but at this one he found himself drinking in excess to cope with his discomfort. He was also uncharacteristically quiet which garnered the attention of his younger brother. Naturally, Tobirama was quite busy making sure Izuna was happy so addressing his elder brother’s discomfort would have to wait, but this didn’t stop him from noticing the glazed over look in Hashirama’s eyes even when the cake cutting was announced.

There was music playing again. It was louder, more jovial, and less traditional. The formalities were finally coming to an end.

Hashirama was fixated on Madara– his right leg bouncing with anxiety. To him the reception party felt as if it were underwater. He watched as Madara was served a slice, bowed courteously, and began to eat– all with a smile. At some point he too was served a slice, but when he didn’t touch it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Elder brother?”

The room suddenly got louder. Hashirama’s empty eyes turned to meet Tobirama’s compassionate red gaze. “Huh?”

“You haven’t touched the cake. Are you feeling well?” Asked Tobirama’s deeper voice quietly.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must have just been lost in the moment.”

Tobirama rubbed at Hashirama’s larger shoulder and sighed, “I see. Care to join me for a walk then? I’d like the company and could use some freshening up. I’d hate to bother Izuna with such trifles when he’s having such a good time.”

Hashirama looked over at Izuna who was happily chatting with his mother and his revenant brother. He was beginning to feel sick again, so he opted to join Tobirama, “sounds good.”

The two walked some distance away from the reception party to a private spot amongst the cherry blossom trees before Tobirama stopped abruptly. “I know this is hard for you,” he began strictly, “but can you at least Try to consider how your behavior is being perceived?”

Hashirama was used to Tobirama getting frustrated with him, but after holding his tongue for so long he could no longer. “Tobirama,” he said in the tone he used when chastising him. “What did I say would come from this- this affront against nature? It’s no good. Can’t you see?”

“This “affront against nature” has made Izuna very happy. On this day he should have nothing but happiness! I see nothing wrong with that!”

“He’s a dead man Tobirama!”

Tobirama rubbed at the bridge of his nose and groaned, making quick rigid motions with his arms as he spoke, “I am very aware of that. I am aware that you were the one to make that happen. I am aware of his crimes against The Leaf, but right now none of that matters! Obito is here as well and so long as he disappears after the festivities are over, I have promised not to pursue him either! Both he and Madara share one thing in common: Izuna sees them as brothers. In the same way that Izuna has turned his eyes away from your transgressions, elder brother, so too must we!”

Hashirama went moon-eyed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he himself had imposed so much discomfort on Izuna. In one way or another, Izuna must have been harboring the same feelings toward him as he had toward Madara.

Settling into the thought, he bowed apologetically. “I understand,” he said. “Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

Tobirama placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder again and looked him deep in the eyes. “It’s just one day,” he reassured him. 

The consolation was enough for Hashirama to return to the reception party and eat his cake as it was wrapping up. Fugaku announced over the speakers that there would be an after-party with drinks and music. The guests who stood watching over the ceremonies were invited and their cheers could be heard far and wide.

The music began to play loudly over the speakers and the important seated guests began to trickle their way into the crowd. Seeking comfort in familiarity, Hashirama stood and followed the newlyweds down the promenade. When he was offered some sake, he even began to relax a little. Mingling with the crowd, he’d all but forgotten about-

Madara was approaching him and with some strong intent. The jaunty music shifted. The koto players began a slow and pining waltz in minor key. Hashirama met Madara’s confident sharingan for the first time all day and he was captivated.

“Shall we dance?” Asked the voice of a dead man.

Before he could register what he was agreeing to, Hashirama nodded and was swept away from his family by a firm cold hand that felt dry like handmade washi paper. Then, hand in hand, he could only follow Madara’s lead. The sharingan could not only read movements but could cause them in the right circumstances. In that moment, Hashirama was grateful for that fact. They moved as one, pushing away and coming together three slow and agonizing times. When they were close, Hashirama felt safe and supported in Madara’s strong arms. When they pushed apart, he longed for Madara’s embrace.

Then, Hashirama found himself spinning– one two three times. The dizzying maneuver only made his light inebriation and confusion more evident. Still, he noticed a pattern– movements of three. It was the Uchiha battle tradition. His heart began to race. His hands met Madara’s again only to be rolled outward and get caught at the end of Madara’s reach. He made an involuntary open gesture to match his dance partner and from there he could feel the judgmental gazes of the people in the crowd around him. Madara was making an example of him.

It felt like an eternity before he was rolled back into Madara’s arms. He wanted to just hide there– away from all the guilt and pain, but Madara sent him away again. There, everyone could see the man in the brown patchwork suit for the foolish, self-indulgent, shameful, liar of a man he was. The heat in his already alcohol flushed face increased. The following embrace felt so short in comparison and when he was sent away again, he could hardly stand it. His eyes stung as he tried to fight the rush of his emotions, but then, he was rolled in for the third time; Madara allowed Hashirama's momentum to continue, but he released him from his control. Because of this, Hashirama lost his balance. He reflexively gasped as his center of gravity rapidly approached the ground, but he was promptly snatched by the waist into a deep awkward dip. Briefly, time froze, and he took in all that was that moment with Madara Uchiha. His skin was dull and dry. It cracked on his face and hands. His mane was still impressive and lustrous however– a stark contrast to Hashirama’s tired looking faded brown locks. In his dark suit, crimson colored vest, tie, and with the cherry blossoms falling around them, Hashirama dared to think he was beautiful.

Then he remembered the crowd– his wife, his children. Madara leaned over and pulled him close. “I still have one more move, Hashirama,” he said.

Hashirama felt his heart rate pick up even more. The dip, the lean, and then what? What was Madara intending to do in front of so many people? Would he really go so far as to make that kind of example of him? Was it wrong that he wanted him to?

Madara whispered five words to him. Then, his heart sank. He helped him stand and walked away, leaving him stunned in front of everyone.

What do you think he told him?

@anannua Still kickin'! ~

[sylviesoothsayer22]

Outshined By The Moon's Brilliance

Wen Ruohan x Wei Ying

Premise: This is a Time Travel AU, so WWX has already meddled with canon by building his own Demonic Sect + recruiting familiar faces. All his scheming led to his sect being invited to the Wen hunting competition where he gets a shocking revelation....

The air felt so dry that it made the nostrils sting and lips crack, the occasional breeze carrying a vague scent of sulphur. If one were to take a deep enough breath, they would taste a faint metallic tinge at the back of their tongues. Outsiders were constantly reminded of the lava rivers flowing throughout Qishan, as well as its oppressive heat. The sun had just reached its apex, its light bleaching the sky a whitish-blue, the intense rays bearing down on the crowd, bathing their colourful robes with golden light, making them shine all the brighter. Beads of sweat running down crinkled brows, boots scuffing against gravel in a nervous dance, eyes suspiciously flickering from the high altar where the Five Great Sect Leaders were supposed to sit and then back at the -now- raised flags, the atmosphere wrought with barely restrained agitation.

Quiet chatter drifted into unwilling ears, though the more composed members of the crowd tried to not let it bother them, they couldn’t help but agree with the gossipers.

The whole arrangement made no sense.

Sect leaders kept their expressions neutral as their disciples pointed at the flags, whispering to each other:

There were supposed to be Five Great Sects, all their leaders accounted for.

So, why was there a sixth flag snapping against the wind?

The new flag in question had, unlike its companions, a pitch black background, with a blood-red crescent moon skilfully stitched at the centre, a snow-white huli jing was depicted, peacefully sleeping at the crescent’s crook, its nine tails lazily drooping downwards, flowing beneath the red moon in a colourless waterfall.

By itself it was a beautiful flag, the calmer ones mused.

What was causing such a ruckus was the group that the flag was attached to.

“Isn’t that…?” 

“It is! It is!” 

“But why would Wen Zongzhu invite that lot?! And to give them a seat at the table…?” 

“I’m still having trouble here…Wasn’t ‘that’ sect just a myth?” 

“This must be some kind of test! Why else would Wen Zongzhu request that clan of demons to come here?!”

“Is he trying to start a feud here and now?!” Nie Clan Heir, Nie Mingjue, quietly hissed under his breath. Choosing to focus on the altar’s highest seat, meant for Wen Zhangmen, as opposed to the main oddity. (while all the other leaders’ places were at the bottom of the altar. The young man noted with a sneer.) 

Nie Cídǐng settled a large hand on his eldest’s shoulder, firmly squeezing. “Now is not the time to make a scene, son. I’ll discuss it with Wen Zhangmen after the competition.” He murmured in his heir’s ear, thankful that all the chatter seemed to have blocked out his words from the nearby Wen disciples. He only let go when he sensed the younger forcing his tense frame to relax.

Nie Zhangmen immediately straightened his posture once he heard the heralds beating on the drums, ready to start announcing his and the others’ titles. 

“The Head of the Qinghe Nie Sect, Head of the Nie Clan!”

Giving his heir one last warning look, Nie Cídǐng stepped away from his eldest. Quietly taking a deep breath through his nose, the clan leader arranged his features into a more neutral expression and walked through a path the crowd of young cultivators made for him. Shoulders set and pace steady. 

“The Head of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Head of the Jiang Clan!”

Though the man was able to keep a polite smile plastered on his face, seasoned observers noticed the nervous twitch in Jiang Fengmian’s brow as he made his way to where Nie Cídǐng was standing, waiting for the rest of his fellow sect leaders at the foot of the altar. 

“The Head of the Gusu Lan Sect, Head of the Lan Clan!”

Still holding the rank of the most composed one of their group, Lan Qiren’s face hardly hinted at how he felt about the strangeness of the whole situation. It was only because he knew the man for years that Nie Cídǐng could see the tightness in the -usually unruffled- sect leader’s eyes as he got closer to the other two.

“The Head of the Lanling Jin Sect, Head of the Jin Clan!” 

Incomes the yellow eyesor -ahem!- Jin Zhangmen. That overly decorous fan of his open and hiding the bottom half of his face. Nie Cídǐng took note of the frivolous man’s attempt at acting coy, but it seems that Jin Zongzhu couldn’t stop his eyes from flitting suspiciously at the new addition among the flags. A greedy gleam in his gaze. 

“The Head of the Yiling Wei Sect, Head of the Wei Clan!”

Finally…. Nie Cídǐng thought.

Although, Wei Zongzhu wasn’t the only one walking down the path.

He brought his right-hand and left-hand with him, both men half a stride behind their superior. Their sect’s black outer robes and red inner robes swishing with every step. 

Despite the fact that all three men came from the same sect, none of their outer robes were a perfect match.

Wei Zhangmen’s right-hand, Meng Ruiqi, appeared to be the most unassuming of the trio. Hands folded at the waist, a gentle, near-feminine face that was smiling serenely, eyes closed and head bowed in a subservient manner, giving off a calm, demure air. His black outer robes were dotted with Lily of the Valley flowers along the shoulders and sleeves. Both hands, one folded atop the other, resulted in the long sleeves to interconnect, the embroidery on the cuffs overlapping, forming into a completed Lily of the Valley branch. 

It was only through Nie Cídǐng’s eagle-eyes and the sun hitting the reserved man’s black robes just so , did the sabre-wielder realise that there were additional details. 

Webs. Intricately woven black threads, the shade almost blending perfectly with its dark background, forming into spiderwebs carefully stitched on the shoulder and sleeve areas. The parts where the webs were supposed to interconnect to form a centre appeared to be covered up by the white, bell-shaped flowers. 

Not knowing why he felt slightly unsettled by the abnormal design choice, Nie Cídǐng chose to aim his focus at the man on the left.

Xue Chengmei was the exact opposite of his seemingly harmless-looking partner.  

Leisurely walking behind his sect leader with his arms interlocking behind his head in a rather inappropriately casual manner, the young man could easily give one the impression of an impish youth with a boyish charm, if it wasn’t for that canine-like smile of his. Xue Chengmei would catch the eye of whoever stared at him for too long and split his lips further, showing more of his teeth in a wide grin that was just plain unnerving, forcing others to look elsewhere. The design of his black robes had one dark-green snake stitched on both sides, their heads resting on each shoulder, long bodies stretched across the torso, tail-ends interweaving around the waist. Blending perfectly with the green belt that had a scale-like pattern. 

Nie Cídǐng carefully observed the grinning man’s style of wear.

The bottom of his robes stopped at the ankles, offering more legroom, long boots that were suitable for combat and leather bracers securely wrapped around his wrists, keeping his wide sleeves tied.

A manic fighter. He thought. Someone who’s ready to jump into the fray should a brawl break out.

Nie Cídǐng’s gaze at last settled on the main attraction. Eyes meticulously studying the one at the centre who was steadily making his way to their little group. 

Wei Fàngrèn truly was an enigma.

The man made his debut in the cultivation world with little to no fanfare. No prior warnings of someone experimenting or doing Heavens’ know what with demonic qi, no whisper of a young genius capable of inventing bizarre gadgets that would make the most perilous of Night Hunts end with hardly any injury or casualty. 

And was able to build his own sect from the ground up in less than ten years.

If Nie Cídǐng didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Wei Zongzhu just decided to pop into existence one day, leaving every cultivator scratching their heads. 

Nobody even knows the demonic cultivator’s exact age and he refused to associate himself with any established sect, all they had were rumours. 

A walking quandary at its finest…

In a single breath, all chatter ceased. The crowd watched with trepidation as the mysterious cultivator, whom they only heard about through hearsay, quietly make his way to the foot of the altar. Not even his fluttering robes made a sound. 

The man’s choice of wear easily had the most simple design. Crimson spider-lilies encircling the cuff of his sleeves, most of the flowers clustered at the tail-end of his robe, forming into a red trail thinning out as it went up. A plunging neckline cut through the red of his inner robe, revealing the pale expanse of his chest, the style ill-suited for the current occasion, along with a weimao to complete the look, its sheer curtain made of black silk, concealing their wearer’s face. 

However, the hidden face was only one of two peculiarities about the man.

Most of the disciples couldn’t help but stare at the snow-white hair streaming down the strange man’s back, while the braver ones of the crowd tried to tuck their chins to their chests, straining their eyes in order to catch a glimpse of the new arrival’s face beneath the black silk of his weimao. 

After what felt like an eternity, but was in fact only a few moments, Wei Zongzhu slowed to a stop in front of the gathered sect leaders. Cupping his hands and offering a silent bow as his first greeting to them.

The four of them nodded back and waited for the new arrival to introduce himself properly.

He did not. Instead, Wei Zhangmen straightened his spine and waved off his two subordinates. Both men merely bowed their heads and walked off to join the crowd, among a small gathering of young disciples -who everyone had just realised- were wearing their sect’s colours. 

Letting out a quiet huff of disapproval at Wei Zongzhu’s lacklustre greeting, Lan Qiren turned his back on the four and climbed up the altar. The rest slowly followed behind.

None of them spoke a single word after settling into their assigned seats. All forming one line, with Wei Zongzhu being the closest to Wen Ruohan’s elevated seat, Nie Cídǐng at his left, then Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan. Jiang Fengmian being the furthest away from Wei Fàngrèn. 

Yet it was Jiang Zongzhu who started making a fuss over Wei Fàngrèn.

The moment Wei Zhangmen took off his weimao, Jiang Fengmian let out an audible gasp which-thanks to the suffocating silence- travelled all the way to the back of the crowd.

Nie Cídǐng snapped his head, taking a brief -enough for the sake of propriety- look at the face revealed to him.

White eyebrows, white lashes, a slanted nose, elegant features that looked to be meticulously carved, pale-pink lips, twisted into a blank smile, a beauty mark dotting the corner of his mouth, liquid-silver eyes, that long mane -snowy all the way to the roots - held up by a simple crimson ribbon. 

Nie Cídǐng looked back at his fellow sect leader, now confused.

Certainly Wei Zongzhu had a radiance that was beyond natural, but he never took Jiang Zhangmen as the type to lose his composure over a pretty face.

(The pig -Jin Guangshan- certainly wasn’t doing any better. Almost dropping his fan, mouth gaping like a fish, openly staring at the newcomer like a mongrel salivating over a slab of meat.

Nie Cídǐng decided then and there that he was going to stay by Wei Zongzhu’s side until the end of the competition. Someone had to help the newcomer ward off that dog’s advances.)

Jiang Zhangmen was also gawking at Wei Fàngrèn, eyes running over the man’s features, a look of familiarity on his face, desperately searching for…. something in the demonic cultivator’s face.

Interestingly enough, Lan Qiren was also carefully studying Wei Fàngrèn’s face. Brow crinkled and mouth stiff, as if he was reminded of an unpleasant dish he was forced to eat long ago. 

For his part, Wei Fàngrèn met the chaos he unwittingly made head-on. That smile never leaving his face, though Nie Cídǐng couldn’t help but notice the slight strain behind that nonchalant facade. 

The enigma tilted his head to the side, much like a curious cat, short strands of white hair falling around his face, framing his features. Waiting for someone to break the silence.

The drums started beating once more….

“The Head of the Qishan Wen Sect, Head of the Wen Clan!”

All of them stiffened and snapped their heads forward. Waiting for the last member of their group to join.

Nie Cídǐng resisted the urge to purse his lips in disapproval, watching as his “friend” made his grand entrance. Sunset-red and white robes bellowing as he strode past their tables with the gait of a man who clearly believed that he had the world at the palm of his hand.

Honestly, he wasn’t even surprised when the elder didn’t bother with any sort of greeting. At least Wei Zhangmen had some sense. 

What did surprise him was Wen Ruohan casually stopping in front of Wei Fàngrèn’s table, stooping down and placing his mouth close to the -now frozen- sect leader’s ear, whispering something as if they were old friends sharing a secret.

Straining his senses, Nie Cídǐng managed to hear that one sentence:

“You’ve certainly learned to be a lot more cunning this time around, Yiling Lazou.”

End.

Author's Note:

1. 慈鼎 or "Cí dǐng": 'kind stability'. (I could not for the life of me find NMJ's father's name in the MDZS wiki. I needed help here.)

2. 瑞奇 or "Ruiqi": Rui- auspicious/lucky. Qi- remarkable/ extraordinary.

3. 放任 or "Fàngrèn" (WWX's new courtesy name): Could translate to 'letting things happen without restrain' or the equivalent of letting things go.

4. Zongzhu: Address for a clan leader.

5. Zhangmen: Address for a sect leader.

This is all just an experimental chapter. I'll let ya'll imagine what happens next. Maybe I'll come back to this, maybe I won't. Really does depend where my muse takes me.

Hope you enjoyed the read.

Many Thanks~

[marinamar4]

I don't know why there aren't more reincarnation fanfics, or maybe it's just me, I'm completely obsessed

But... The amount of stories that can be made.

In Harry Potter, the reincarnation of Lily Evans, or the four founders (which I have seen, especially with Harry being Salazar).

Bianca di angelo, chose reincarnation, is Canon. And a headcanon that is out there is that it is Estelle Blofis

Reincarnation of Padmé Amidala in Star Wars, protecting Luke and Leia and scolding Vader

Reincarnation of lucy gray baird, chasing snow until he goes crazy

Damn, it would be cool if Allison Argent was the reincarnation of Marie-Jeanne

And I'm sure there are more fandoms that I don't fall into.

[zonerz]

So fascinated to see where this bit goes with the Rusty keyblade. I'm exhausted but also buzzing and I'm betting it's gonna play into the memory system in the way of like. Memories get recovered -> Starlight regains some strength/clarity bc smth smth keyblade linked with the wielder and the heart.

So fascinated to find out what they're talking about with the founders and seemingly fighting over the memory shards? Our keykids are about to cause so much trouble god bless 😭🫶

[malachitezmeyka]

The neighbour: finally done with his early morning repair sessions filled with that loud ass drilling noise

The fan: finally bought so I don't have to sleep with the window open and wake up to the sounds of cars and people going by

The responsibilities: finally all done and dusted. Literally don't have any form of schedule other than visiting my grandma once a week. Can spend my days doing whatever

Me: finally able to rest as much as I want and stay up as long as I want with no one judging me for it and no consequences

My insomnia: Greetings and salutations :)))

[littlewriters-posts]

Hey darling! Can I request the Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader? So maybe where the reader is the reincarnation or rebirth of Damon's old love, and Damon meets the reader's reincarnation like Elena in season 3, episode 22?

I love this idea so much!!

I spent hours writing this last night only for it not to save, so here is another attempt.

Plot: Damon thought his first love was dead and buried, so imagine his surprise when someone turns up in Beacon Hills wearing her exact face

1864

Katherine Peirce loved her boys - more importantly she loved how she had them wrapped around her little finger. Which meant of course, she could get whatever she wanted.

The three of them were sat outside in the gardens, enjoying the sunshine in the summer weather. Kathrine, Damon and Stefan all laughing amongst themselves like old friends.

"Your friend is coming today is she not?" Stefan asked.

Kathrine nodded, looking towards the road as if expecting a carriage to pull up at any minute.

"We're grateful you could offer us both shelter," she replied simply.

"Well if she's anything like you, how could we refuse?" Damon asked, a grin forming on his face.

Kathrine smiled up at him "She's exactly like me,"

This was a lie. Although Kathrine would never admit it, she often mimicked her friend's personality to get people to like her. Y/N was softer than Kathrine was, her heart not frozen from the years of pain they had both endured.

"What did you say her name was again?" Stefan asked.

"Y/N," Kathrine responded, "And it looks like she's here,"

A black carriage was pulling up, and a footman appeared to open the door. Kathrine was quick to race towards her friend, whilst the brothers hung back to watch the scene play out.

They watched as Y/N stepped out of the carriage, adorned in a soft green dress. She embraced her friend, a wide smile on her face as she chatted excitedly. Katherine drew her to where the Salvatore brothers stood, and Y/N shrunk slightly, stepping behind Katherine ever so slightly.

"Salvatore's, this is Y/N L/N, you'll forgive her if she's a little shy," Katherine smiled down at her friend.

Damon was the first to respond, taking her hand and pulling it up to his lips. "Damon Salvatore," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her hand.

Y/N curtseyed in response "A pleasure to meet you Mr Salvatore,"

Stefan was next, offering her a small bow "Stefan Salvatore, we hope you enjoy your stay here,"

Y/N smiled, looking between the two bothers "Thank you for having me, Kathrine tells me you have been most generous hosts,"

Kathrine clicked her tongue "Forgive me Salvatore's, but I believe I will be showing her around her new home,"

The brothers gave a small wave towards the girl in green, who gave a shy smile in response.

"What do you think?" Stefan asked his brother. Damon eyed the retreating figures of the two girls with curiosity.

"Well Kathrine says she's like her, but I don't think I've ever met someone so different,"

Neither Stefan nor Damon saw much of Y/N from that moment on, she would never be teasing them the way Katherine did, nor would she seek them out. They'd catch glimpses of her reading, or writing beneath one of the trees in the garden occasionally, but neither of them even thought of saying something.

They were too captivated by Katherine.

But then came the day of the Founder's ball. Damon was in a foul mood, since Katherine had decided to attend the ball with Stefan, and found himself wandering he halls of his own home, unable to escape the nagging feeling in his chest.

So he went to where he always went too when his thoughts became too much; the library.

It was a large place, with books lining the walls like leaves on the trees. But it was cosy also, with three large chairs huddled round the grand fireplace.

To his surprise however, there was already somebody there.

"Miss Y/N," he remarked, a surprised frown on his face "I thought you'd be at the party,"

It was true, as she was adorned in a beautiful purple dress, that looked to be one of Katherine's. Her hair was done in an elegant updo, but still she sat on the chair, a heavy book in her lap.

She blinked up at him, her fingers fiddling with the pages.

"I've never been one for crowds, that was always more of Katherine's thing," she said softly.

Katherine. The name felt bitter on Damon's tongue. He wondered though, if Y/N was like Katherine in other ways, in ways that had to be kept a secret from the rest of the family.

"Mind if I join you?" Damon asked, and Y/N shook her head.

"Not at all,"

There was a brief silence between them as Damon stared at the girl. She paid him little attention, her eyes darting across the pages of the book as if feasting off the words it gave her.

"You like to read," he observed, and Y/N jumped, forgetting he was there.

"I like to write," she corrected "But reading is the next best thing if I have nothing to write in,"

There was another silence, and Damon debated saying something else, but she didn't seem like the type to want to talk much, and he felt he should be careful where he tread. But to his surprise it was her who started the next conversation.

"What brings you out of the party?" Y/N asked, closing her book and setting it to the side.

Damon sighed, he couldn't tell her the real reason, for Katherine was her friend and he was not. But similarly he couldn't think of a lie, something about her made him feel guilty for even thinking about lying to her.

Y/N grimaced slightly, taking pity on the fallen expression of the man. "I see she chose your heart to break," she said softly.

"What?" Damon asked, taken by surprise.

Y/N sighed "You think you're the first two men that Katherine has set against each other? I love her dearly, but she does like her games,"

Damon shrugged "The price I pay for falling for the act in the first place,"

"If I may," Y/N said cautiously "If you want to win her affection's you needn't show it to her so much. Katherine likes to chase,"

Damon's eyes flickered slightly 2What are you suggesting?" he asked.

"Take someone else to the next founders ball," Y/N suggested, picking up another book from the table. "You're a handsome man Mr Salvatore I'm sure you'll have little trouble finding somebody who takes an interest,"

Damon sat back a little, before glancing at the time. The founders ball still had a couple of hours before it was over.

"Why wait?" he asked, a mischievous smile on his face. "I could get a date right now,"

"That's the spirit," Y/N said, not looking up from her book.

"So Y/N, would you do me the honour of attending the founders ball with me?"

Y/N's mouth dropped open as she looked up at Damon, who was now standing with his arm outstretched towards ger.

"I - I can't!" she said with wide eyes "I'm terrible with crowds, and I don't know anybody, and god forbid they try and talk with me-"

Damon cocked his head slightly as she spoke, sensing the panic in her voice.

"I'll stay with you, and if anyone speaks to us, I will be the one to answer, if that is what you wish. So what do you say - one dance?"

Y/N hesitated, before slowing accepting his hand and letting him pull her up. "Don't make me regret this Mr Salvatore," she warned.

He laughed, guiding her hand to he crook of his arm. "Please call me Damon,"

Y/N sighed, trying desperately to swallow the nerves about walking into a room full of people she didn't know.

In the hall, Katherine and Stefan were dancing gracefully, successfully ignoring the stares of the room.

"I do hope your brother isn't too offended by my choice of Salvatore," Katherine mused, earning a chuckle from Stefan.

"I do believe he'll get over it - or he already has,"

"What?" asked Katherine, but Stefan just nodded towards the other side of the room, where Damon had just entered, Y/N on his arm.

Katherine's eyes narrowed as Damon shot a smirk her way, before leaning down to whisper in Y/N's ear.

"Just follow my lead, you'll be fine,"

Y/N tried not to shiver as his breath hit her ear, and allowed herself to be led across the dancefloor.

"I never thought you'd be the dancing type," she admitted, looking up into his blue eyes.

"And why is that?" Damon asked a slight smirk playing on his face.

"I don't know," Y/N bit her lip slightly to stop herself from smiling "You seemed much too arrogant to bore yourself with something as frivolous as a party,"

Damon's eyebrows raised as he realised her teasing tone "I never thought you'd be so cheeky, I thought that was something that belonged to Katherine,"

Y/N shook her head slightly, a laugh falling from her lips "Katherine was always so serious, even when we were children. I suppose you Salvatore's have shown her a thing or two,"

Children, they knew each other when they were children, so Y/N must at least know what Katherine was, if she wasn't one herself.

"She's staring at us," Damon commented, realising that Katherine had stopped dancing with his brother, and was shooting curious looks to the other pair.

"Told you," Y/N shrugged, her voice lowering to a whisper "Nobody Knows Katherine like I do - perhaps now would be a good time to talk to her?"

Damon hesitated, he knew that part of him wanted to but the other part -

"We're having far too much fun dancing, don't you think?"

And it was true, Damon did enjoy Y/N's company. With her shyness beginning to ease, he enjoyed the small jests she'd make at him, and thoughts of Katherine began fading away.

The pair danced, and chatted until the early hours of the morning when the founders ball finally came to an end, and the last of the guests were leaving.

Y/N let out a yawn, and Damon caught her as she stumbled slightly.

"I think it's time I retire," she said sleepily "It's been a pleasure dancing with you Mr Salv - Damon,"

Damon brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss on the back of it. "The pleasure was all mine, goodnight Y/N,"

He watched as she left, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Careful, she'll fall in love with you," came a sly voice to the right of him. He didn't need to look to know it was Katherine. "her heart is far too soft to survive a Salvatore brother,"

"You were wrong before, she is nothing like you," Damon commented "Enjoy my brother,"

And with that he walked off, feeling triumphant that he had been able resist the urge to fall right back into Katherine's arms, but he couldn't shake the Y/N from his mind either.

The next morning, Damon found himself outside the door of Y/N's bedroom, his hand ready to knock when she opened to door herself.

She jumped slightly "Oh - Damon?" she asked her eyes wide.

His lips parted in shock slightly, the encounter catching him off guard and all the rehearsed words in his head disappearing.

"Are you alright, you look like you've seen a ghost?" she asked, frowning slightly.

Damon cleared his throat, presenting a small brown parcel with his other hand.

"A thankyou gift, for coming with me to the dance last night," he said.

Y/N blinked slightly, gingerly taking the package from his hands, and carefully untying the string.

"You didn't have to -" she began, before trailing off as she revealed the leather bound notebook he had bought for her.

"You mentioned you loved writing, I figured this would help you out a bit," he said slightly nervously "Do you like it?"

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. "Thankyou so much Damon, this - it means the world," she said sincerely, clutching the book to her chest as if it may run away.

Damon's worried expression broke into a grin. Another difference between Y/N and Katherine, Y/N was sincere, was genuine.

He didn't even see Katherine glaring at the two from behind the pillar.

Katherine watched with resentment over the next couple of weeks, watching as Damon started pining after Y/N instead of her. Of course, anyone else she would have gotten rid of immediately, but Y/N was her friend, and she didn't have many of those.

Even Stefan noticed her change in behaviour towards the other girl, but decided it was not in his best interest to question it.

But Damon was oblivious, too wrapped up in wanting the attention of the shy girl he had met, yet seemingly unable to show his affections towards her.

Y/N carried on with her life, desperately trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach whenever the older brother entered the room, concealing her blushing cheeks with her hair whenever he spoke. Nobody noticed, besides Katherine, as the girl often hid herself behind her hair when people spoke to her, but not quite in the same way.

"I see you fell in love with him too," Katherine commented, walking in unannounced to her friends bedroom.

Y/N sighed nervously, she knew that Katherine got whatever she wanted, and mostly she allowed it which is why the pair were such good friends.

Katherine stepped closer. "What do you think he'll think of you when you tell him what you are?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Y/N shook her head "I don't need to tell him," she said hoarsely, "I'm not like you Katherine,"

Katherine chuckled "You may not be a vampire, but you can't go around pretending to be human,"

Y/N glared at her friend through the reflection of the mirror, but didn't say anything to protest and Katherine smiled.

"I'm just saving you the pain of losing him," she said, before turning on her heal and waltzing out the door, no doubt to find the Salvatore brother herself.

Y/N sighed, her had laying on the book that Damon had gotten her, piled on top of all the other books she had written in over the years. Even if she didn't like it, Katherine was correct. Though her curse wasn't quite as visible as the older girl's, it was a curse nevertheless, and all curses had consequences.

"What did she mean?"

Y/N froze, the sound of the man's voice like ice in her heart. She spun round and came face to face with Damon, who was standing in front of the door he had just closed.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching her stricken and panicked face. Another way she was different to Katherine, she wore her heard and emotions on her sleeve, there was no having to interpret or guess with her, she was an open book whether she liked it or not.

"You don't have to be scared, I didn't tell Katherine's secret and I won't tell yours," he reassured her, stepping closer to take her hand.

"I'm not a vampire," Y/N said defiantly.

Damon shook his head "You don't have to lie to me," he promised, his blue eyes searching her nervous ones.

"I'm not!" she stressed, before breaking away from Damon's grasp and sitting on the bed "It's more complicated than that,"

Damon sank to his knees before her, looking up at her with wide and trusting eyes "Then let me help you,"

"I'm cursed," Y/N said quietly after a beat. "They call it the Phoenix curse. Every time I die, I get reborn from my ashes as my old body burns, forgetting everything from my previous life."

Damon frowned "But if you forget everything, how do you know you've died before?"

Y/N smiled slightly, raising her hand to brush the hair from his eyes. "I didn't at first. But I am always reborn at the age of sixteen, and people tend to notice when you're almost an adult and have no memories to show it. Katherine found me, and she had this made for me,"

Y/N drew out a necklace that was tucked away in her bodice. It was golden, and dainty, with a red gemstone in the middle of it.

"It allows me to keep the memories even after I have been reborn,"

Damon let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Well that's certainly a raw deal on your behalf, at least Vampires get the added speed and strength,"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head slightly as she stood up.

"The books in your father's library say that I have wings, and that I can fly, but that remains a mystery to me, and I am immune to compulsion" she said with a smile.

Damon hesitated, a question on the tip of his tongue but unsure whether or not to ask it.

"Well it seems to me, that as long as I don't let anyone kill you, there doesn't seem to be much of a curse," he commented with a quick smile.

Y/N raised her eyebrows "Surely it is Katherine you would want to be around, speaking of which, how are you and her?" she asked

Damon shrugged "I found someone else that seemed far more appealing,"

Y/N turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat slightly as she realised just how close they actually were.

"Who?" she asked, unable to hide her blushing cheeks with her hair this time.

"You,"

Y/N's eyes widened, her brows drawing up slightly as she looked at him. Her lips parted as if wanting to say something, but no words came out, her heart pounding against her chest, the tightness of her corset making it difficult to breathe.

"Damon - Katherine," was all she could let out, but he shook his head.

"I don't want her, not since I met you. I no longer want to be chasing after a game, but I would chase after you for the rest of my life if that is what it took. I would tell a hundred jokes just to hear you laugh, and run a thousand miles to catch up to you,"

Y/N let him grab her hands in his own, but tugged away slightly "Damon you don't understand, Katherine wants you. And Katherine always gets what she wants,"

But Damon didn't relent "But I don't want Katherine, I want you," he said, the desperation leaking into his voice "But if you truly do not want me, then that is fine, but I need to hear you say it. I need to hear your say you do not want me if I am to go,"

Y/N shook her head, her gaze downwards "I can not lie to you Damon," she said quietly "I can not say I do not want you, when you are all I want,"

Damon breathed a sigh of relief, a slight laugh falling from his lips as he embraced her in a tight hug, pulling away only to cup her face in his hands, his blue eyes memorising every detail of it as if would disappear if he looked away.

"Meet me outside, near the village. You go out of the left gate at the gardens then follow the road until you meet the village square, I'll meet you there - I've got a surprise for you," he said, the smile never leaving his face.

"I will try, but I'm terrible with directions," Y/N teased "You may have to find me if I get lost."

Damon kissed her cheek, tucking her stray hair behind her ear "I will always find you," he promised.

Behind the door, Katherine watched the two lovers, a dark expression on her face. As much as she adored her, Y/N would have to go.

So as Damon waited at the village square, and the minutes ticked by, it occurred to him only too late that something terrible had happened to his new love.

That Y/N had disappeared without a trace.

2009

Y/N sighed with a heavy heart, as she lugged her suitcase behind her. She was grateful to have a suitcase, many of the children she was with in the foster home before had their stuff in plastic bin bags as they moved from house to house.

But Y/N had been adopted.

She found it odd that somebody wanted to adopt her, especially since she was three weeks away from turning eighteen, but it meant she no longer had to fend for herself once she aged out of the system, so she had to be grateful.

Rudy Hopkins

Y/N hadn't even met him, yet here he was willing to adopt the strange girl without a second thought.

That's if Y/N could find the damn house.

Mystic falls was a mystery to her, especially since she had never been there before - or so she thought.

"Y/N?" came a voice.

She spun round, and came face to face with a man she could only describe as beautiful. His eyes were wide, and blue, looking at her with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Er, I'm sorry do I know you?" she asked with a frown, stepping backwards nervously as the man stepped closer to her.

He froze, his eyes glinting downwards to her neck, where not one bit of jewellery rested.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew - Damon Salvatore," he introduced himself, but his blue eyes were still piercing her own, scanning her as if she were an odd puzzle piece he couldn't quite place.

"Y/N L/N," she responded, a slight frown evident on her face "Are you alright, you look like you've seen a ghost,"

Damon hesitated, her words echoing in his head, the same words she had spoken to him all those years before, yet she truly had no recollection of him.

He nodded "Sorry for bothering you," he said quickly, turning to walk away.

"Wait!" she called out, grabbing her suitcase "You don't know where Rudy Hopkins lives do you? He's my adoptive parent, but he didn't show up to the meeting point, he just text that I'll meet him at home,"

Damon's eyes widened, Rudy Hopkins was the father of Bonnie Bennet, there was no way this was a coincidence.

"Follow the road back down until you - " he paused, looking at her confused and slightly panicked expression, and he felt his heart tug slightly as he remembered her all those years ago wearing exactly the same face as she was now.

"I'll take you," he reassured "Something tells me that you're not very good with directions,"

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief "You aren't going to turn out to be some serial killer are you?"

Damon snorted "Bit late to ask that isn't it? But no, I can promise I am not a serial killer,"

Y/N smiled up at him as he walked next to her, and he found himself having to concentrate on not looking at her. She was exactly the same as she was all those years before, but with no memory of him whatsoever.

He was almost sorry as he left her on her doorstep, wanting to spend every moment with her, to see if it really was her, or just some cruel trick the world was trying to play on him.

She turned to thank him, but he was was already gone.

Damon had darted back to the Salvatore household, his head and heart both reeling from the encounter.

He burst into the living room, where both Stefan and Elena was sat cozied up in-front of the fire,

"Stefan," he said urgently, causing the two others to look up sharply. Stefan frowned at his brothers expression, Damon had many emotions, anger, hatred you name them, but never vulnrable.

Not until now.

"Stefan she's here - Y/N's here,"

Part two here:

[grimdarling69]

Another Deaged Dan and Ellie or otherwise known as Crack pt7

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6

Diana of Themyscura had met many evil men, but few had reached the evil of Lex Luthor. He had kidnaped batmans son, tortured him in numerous ways, and forced him to create a portal? They weren't completely sure about the specifics of the machine. It was obviously a portal, but to where?

Batman had called them in after taking heavy fire when they marched on Luthor previously, and the Justice League founders were currently investigating the area.

Superman especially. He's currently in the medbay recovering from emergency surgery. His sons were sticking near him after the very near death from Luthors' new powers. Last she heard, Lois had arrived on base to support him as well.

"I already told you. They are as safe as they can be." Luthor repeated under her lassos effect. He was tied up on the floor because it was the only thing that was able to stop him from using his powers.

Zatanna and her contact were currently working on a cell for him based on the mystics. Hopefully it was soon.

"Fine. Let's try another question. How do we work the portal?" She tightened to ropes.

"I don't know. My... little badger did most of the...work."

"Don't you dare call him that!" The Red Hood stomped over, picking him up by the lapels on his suit.

"You have no right to call him anything after what you've done. You're so goaddamned lucky I ain't running this mission cause if I was, I'd have ground you to dust underneath my feet and served your head to him." He growled green reflected weirdly in Luthors eyes.

"Red Hood. Back down." Jason growled but roughly dropped him hard enough he heaved as he hit the ground and curled over.

"Never thought you'd be such a killjoy, Wayne." They didn't freeze they were all much to good to freeze, but she could tell it was a near thing.

"That's right. He told me about all of you. He was more than happy enough to tell me everything." Luthor baited them. Batman growled and approached him with a furious snarl.

"Don't let yourself be led astray by anger." Diana advised him. She received the alert that the cell was ready and loaded him up to bring him to the closest zeta. Batman watched her all the while a contrast from everyone else that avoided even looking in her direction.

-----‐----------

"Fuck that hurts." His son complained but didn't shy away from them. Damians never complained before. The giant yeti stood by assorted through what he can only guess as their medical supplies before finding greenish tinted bandages in strange container. He angled his body infront of Damian shielding him from whatever that was soaked in.

"What is that?" He questioned hesitantly."It's fine, Richard, it's just ecto-aids." Damian answered with full confidence. He couldn't take it any longer and pulled the last stitch through gently before rising and starting to pace erratically

"Damian. I promised myself I would take this slow, but I can't. I have no-no! idea where we are, who anyone even is, and why the fuck you're almost a completely different person." He waved his hands around erratically ignoring the yeti placing the 'ecto-aids' on the counter snd leaving.

"We-are in the Far Frozen, in the Infinate Realms where all afterlives exist together. It's the very foundation of the mulitverse."

"What the fuck are even talking about?" His jead was hurting s d he barely restrained him self from screaming in frustration.

" I am...a reincarnation of the High King Phantom, my-his real name was Danny Fenton. He was a superhero."

"I don't-no I don't understand...what- how?"

" I think i should start from the beginning. Maybe you should sit..?" His son asked his voice gentler and almost fragile. Damian wasn't fragile. He'd seen him take out mountains of goons 4 times his size, but for the first time in years, he truly looked all his fourteen years of life. He sat down beside him and bumped his shoulder a silent show of support hopefully.

"In that life my parents were scientists who studied..." For hours he listened as Damian recounted his previous life occasionally telling his own short tales to make him feel better.

"So Lex Luthor is your godfather from another life?"

"Yes, but he prefers Vlad. He doesn't mind, Mr. Luthor, but he hates Lex." Damian winced.

"Well, this is going to take a lot of adjustment. My whole view on life has been fundamentaly been altered." That is a severe understatement. He's met people who've had past lives, but knowing his own son had one was a...adjustment.

"I...understand if you want me to leave."

"What? Damian-"

"It's fine. I understand if you think I'm to..to different..."

"Damian, you are right that you're different, but we're all a little different. The whole family is batshit crazy you know. We would never kick you out."

"But I was difficult before, and now I'll be even worse. I can't even go one day without getting into fights. I'm...wrong-."

"You are perfectly fine just the way you are." He took Damian face between his hands.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I am so proud of you. You have come so far in just the short few years I've known you. You overcame your past and you can overcome this to."

"I'm scared. What if-father doesnt-...want me?" His lip wobbled, and his eyes glistened in the warm light.

"Bruce loves you. You're his son. And even if somehow Bruce doesn't, I'll be right here because you're my son too. My Robin. It's okay to be scared. Courage is not the absence of fear -"

"But the triumph over it. Do you know how many times you've told me that? I couldn't count it even if I kept a journal. I would never admit to being afraid to anyone but you." His son finished his quote.

"Then why did you run from me?" He could admit that the question had laid heavily on his mind. There wasn't anybody he trusted more than Damian, and he thought he shared the sentiment.

"I knew that if stayed I'd put them in danger." Damian tried to escape his hold on his head to look away but Dick refused to let him go.

"Who, Dami?"

"My-my...children."

"What? How? You're a-"

"It's more like incubation for ghosts. Dan and ellie, the siblings I told you about. Their bodies were injured and discorpolated to the point they had to retreat to their cores. Because of their pasts, they wouldn't have enough strength to heal, so I am hosting them." Many people have hosted...things before and he's sure ghosts are different, but he's heard of spirits and parasites before.

"Oh. That's a lot but it's not...hurting you is it?"

"Not..typically."

"What do mean?" Please don't make me lose you again.

"I needed to get to Frostbite to check if there are any complications, but because of circumstances, it's complicated." He admitted looking anywhere but his eyes.

"What circumstances? What complications?" He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but he fears he only made himself sound frustrated.

"The Lazurus Pits. I believe they are corrupted ectoplasm. Frostbite would know more about this than i do. I believe that after I got more pure ecto, the corruption was flushed out, but I need to make sure." He makes a note to ask Frostbite about Jason later.

He opens his mouth to ask again, but Frostbite came back. "Is everything all right? Some of my people heard yelling in here?" Dick goes to speak but is interrupted before he can. Damian shakes his hands off and scoots away from him on the table.

"Everything is fine. We were just about to use the ecto-aids." Damian lied convincingly. The yeti sighed, obviously not believing his less than convincing act.

"You requested a check-up? On the young cores, am I correct?" He questioned, moving on from the subject. Dick didn't remember Damian saying anything about the cores, and he had carried him all the way here. He turned to Damian in question.

"We're ghosts, or I'm a halfa, but we do a lot of emotional speaking and sensing auras. Every core has a special ecto-signal, and most can see ecto-bonds aseell. He's obviously put the dots together. It's not hard." Damian explained. The more he learns, the more concerning it gets. He gives Damian an unimpressed look.

"Quite right. It's a special bond that traverses lifetimes that you two have!"

He turned to damian questioningly but he seemed just as lost.

"I sensed the small ecto-signal that I used to sense from your older sister. I thought you already knew?"

"No, no, I don't sense anything. Everything is diluted. I didn't even sense vlad until he was right in front of me before."

"Hmm, let's come back to this later and get you checked out first to make sure there aren't any immediate problems. I may just be mistaken. Jasmine was always a liminal. She never even reached ecto-contamination levels of a halfa." He pondered.

"Wouldn't i atleadt recognize some things if I was her? Dejavu?"

"I doubt it. You might have the soul of her, but without the ecto, you might never regain the memories."

"And we are not contaminated him just to test a theory. No experiments." Damian said with distant eyes.

"Of course, great one. It was merely a thought." And with that the conversation was over and the examination begun.

------------

Stephanie rubbed her eyes with expensive lotion tissues she'd called pointless, but Alfred always kept in stock. The tissue box was blue, and there was another green one beside it. The universe sure had a way of being funny.

"Care for a snack Miss Stephanie?" Alfred asked her with red rimmed eyes, he carried a plate with fancy cheeses and crackers with funny shapes.

"Thanks, Alfie." "Of course,miss." She sighed and ate the lightest cheese with an almost cat-looking shape.

"Do you want one Cass?" Cass was laying on the med bay bed with several bandages crisscrossed on her upper body. She had a heavily wrapped foot and her hair was secured with numerous brightly colored pins to keep it away from the healing scars.

She shakes her head slightly. Steph sighs and stands from the spare bed and takes the tray with her. She spares one last glance to her mourning and benched best friend.

Duke is dressed as signal sans mask bent over the batcomputer. His stance reminds her of Bruce and she can't help but smile. Duke nods his head at her.

"How is she?" He asks, typing and reading several reports. "Sad." She sets the tray on a nearby counter close enough for Duke to snack. He sighs and finally sits down in the chairs.

"Green Lanturn visited the island yesterday. He says it isn't alien."

"Which one?"

"Guy Gardner." She hums thoughtfully. She's met the guy only once before. He seemed a bit hot-headed, but she's heard of good work from him before. Jason's bike sounded out from behind them. He ripped his helmet off and slammed it down on the counter. The tray shakes, and the cheese mixes with the crackers in a pile.

"Amy leads?" She asked him ignoring his anger. He was getting better and now this.

"Do i look it panned out, blondie?" She sighed and pulled herself onto the counter.

"Zatanna had a contact look at the portal. They said it 'reeked' of death. Refused it to get any closer. Deadman is going to check it out today." Duke interupted them.

"What about Constantine?" She took the subject change.

"Still missing. Zatanna found his house yesterday. There was a note of a poker meeting in hell for a piece of his soul. Bruce thinks he lost and pissed of a demon he couldn't escape."

"You've got to be kidding me. How many people are going to go missing?" Jason started ripping off his armor and disappeared into the changing rooms. Hopefully, for a shower, he reeks.

"The Titans went back to the island today."

"How was that?"

"Raven ran into Zatanna and offered to look for Costantine in hell."

"Seriously? That's the worst idea ever."

"Batman said that to. She's probably going to go through with it still, though."

"Obviously."

"Hows your mom?"

"Good. She's worried about me. I keep telling her it's okay, but everyone knows about the cover story kidnappings by now."

" I still think the cover is bad. I'm surprised they even bought it."

"The press will buy anything that makes cops look bad. After that shootout at the mall last week, not a single person got hurt apart from some bruising, but everyone is dumping on the pigs now. Bruce is pissed."

"True. It was just some desperate kids trying to get quick cash anyway. They didn't even have bullets. Now all i get from Bruce is that I should have stopped them from pistal whipping that security guard."

"No shit?" The zeta tube rang out suddenly.

"Spoiler. Signal. Gather the others. We have a lead.

Fucking finally.

------‐---

Dick Grayson was no stranger to restless nights. Being a circus act turned vigilante, he'd been used to working well through midnight. Then he became a cop then Bruce 'died', and he quit. Then he came back and he had to say bye to his son and took a gymnastics training job. Much more flexible hours but just as exhausting. Classes, people, and training all day. It challenged even his extroverted attitude.

The coffee in this dimension wasn't anything like his own. It had an almondy taste to it, and he'd assume it was poisoned if he hadn't already drunken 2 cups a day since he got here.

It never got cold even if he left it out all day in the biting storms outside. It would be a little watery but still hot. He very much enjoyed that. He could drink room temperature coffee, but he still hated it.

They'd been staying at a log cabin in the Far Frozen since they got here four and half weeks ago. He'd questioned just about every yeti and random ghost about raising ghostlings, and hes pretty sure they run in terror when they see him coming by now. He sighed and set down his empty mug.

He spends just about everything day questioning ghosts, Frostbite visits, and spending time with Damian. Rinse and repeat. Don't get him wrong, he loves spending time with damian it was just hard. It's obvious they're running out of time. Bruce will get the portal fixed one way or another and come get them, and damian is scared out of his mind.

His nightmares haven't been this bad in years. It's gotten to the point that Damian starts out the night in his bed. Damian didn't talk in his sleep before it was mainly mumbled. Now it's all he hears.

(Please...I'm alive-im alive-im a real...person)

He gets his own nightmares as well. He sees Danny on the table. Strapped down, his hair, a white dewy halo. His green eyes glow, unseeing. A mix of red and green blood surrounding them. He's struggling with the wounds. Pushing the organs back in. Taking out the rib stretcher. Pushing them back in. Stapling his skin. His hands are covered in blood, both green and red. He thinks they might be a mix of Jazzs memories and his own imagination.

The toaster popping up pulls him from his thoughts. He picks up the burning bread. Swearing loudly and tossing the bread from one hand to the other all the way to the plate. Why didn't he just grab the plate? God he's fucking dumb.

The oven timer beeps, and he grabs his much needed mitt. He pulls out the golden brown biscuits. Alfred would be proud. He's not a bad cook, no matter what the others say. He's just a distracted and experimental one. Alfred often banned him from his experiments growing up trying to cook his parents' meals from memory. Alfred had, of course, pulled up recipes and even made calls. It just didn't taste right it was missing something he'd argue. Now that he was older, he thought maybe the circus was missing things and his parents substituting it the best they could.

He grabs the butter from the fridge and pulls back the wrapping to use the end of the stick on the biscuits. Damian hates when he does it 'unsanitary and gross', but come on, he has to do it as quickly as he can. They're also the only ones who have to eat here! Damians ghostly friends have been bringing back food from the real world for then to eat. He's trying not to wonder where their getting the food.

He grabs the honey jar and uses the fancy stick he can't remember the name of to spread the honey everywhere. He even puts some on his toast. He flips the last few pieces of suspicious looking fake bacon onto the resting plate. The Lunch Lady Ghost had brought for them saying he had to get protein somewhere, but if you ask him, it looks...iffy. He made extra biscuits just in case.

He loads the biscuits and toast on one plate and another for the fakon. He balances two cups of orange juice in one hand and holds the plate with his stomach and forearms. He nudges the slightly open door with his foot. The ghost dog 'Cujo' nips at his ankle and hopps around his feet excitedly.

"Down boy." He jokes half-heartedly. The dog takes his command very seriously and lays on the ground tongue halfway out his mouth. His wagging tail is undeterred by the wood intangiblely sweeping through in wide arcs. Damian is asleep under the covers his body to used to his footsteps to register as a danger anymore. He's trying his best to treat this as a vacation instead of getting used to it, but he can't help but admit he'd love to do this every morning. Making breakfast for them every morning, coming home or driving to pick him up every afternoon, no longer making do with calls and canceled weekends.

"Dami... wakey wakes, eggs, and bakey..." he sings, rubbing his shoulder. He sets the orange juice and plates on their one nightstand next to the baby 101 book they probably all read in Robin training already. He grabs his toast and a biscuit off the plate.

"Five more minutes..."No can do, baby. We've got a busy day today." Dami groans and rubs his face. His hair is much longer than three and a half months ago, no longer under Alfred's tutelage or gels, and now free to curl. He can't resist the temptation and runs his hand through the wild curls. Damian swats his hand away without any real heat, and he jumps on the bed, crawling over Damian and informing his squawk of protest to his side of their bed.

Damian sits up and snatches a biscuit and the baby name book underneath the other book. He pushes the book across the bed without a word.

"Did you find what you wanted? I thought you were going with Dan and Ellie. Like before." He notices a paper sticking out of the book, and he opens to that page. A small paper with Damis fancy scribbling is sticking out.

Dante Jasmine

Eleanor Richard

He sucks in a harsh breath.

"I-I had a rough time deciding on either Dante or Jordan. But I thought he'd like Dante more, you know. Do-do you like it? The names? Is it... okay?" Damian places a hand on his stomach where their cores are resting. They're growing stronger by day. Damian had let him hold his hand there just last night and feel them kicking? Pulsing? It was hard to tell, but Frostbite assured them it was normal and that any day now, they'd phase out. Frostbite had said that ghosts barely incubated for more than a month it only took so long because both the cores and Damian were weaker.

"It would be an honor. To have her named after me. And if Frostbite was right, both of them." Damian smiles and takes a bit of the biscuit. He barely manages to keep the happy tears in.

"I wanted to talk to you about something else as well."

"What Dames?" The last word sounded more like 'duhs' after he started eating his biscuit.

"Tucker stopped by when you were out interagating the yetis yesterday." He blushed and stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. "He said Constantine was asking around at big leagues poker last week. They invite Tuck all the time, probably to suck up to the Big Guy in charge, you know.

"Since he's been looking after the throne for you?"Yeah, he's been doing a pretty good job. we'll probably revisit it when I'm older, but he said that he was looking for a pair of lost heroes."

"He described us?"

"Yeah, Tucker said it was pretty accurate, too. Even called in some favors. Tucker thinks he suspects something with the dimensions."

"Is he suspicious?"

" I don't think so, but Tuck said he pissed off some demons."

"Enough to go after him?"

"It's John Constantine. What do you think?" Damian said, folding his arms and squinting as if to say 'really?'.

"Fine. You're right. Should we help?"

"I'm sure the league will go after him if anything happens. I'll put some ghosts on the trail. Some cute blob ones, maybe." The league...Bruce.

"We should talk about Bruce." Damian looked away.

"What's there to talk about?" Dick scooted closer, catching a glance at the dog curled below damian on a pillow.

"Bruce loves you damian."

"You already said. God, you're starting to sound like a broke record. Did you know that?" Anger. It's easier to be angrier than admit you're scared. He'd know that well.

"It's true. I know you're worrying about it."

"Do you really think Father will undersrand? Understand them? Leave it alone?"

"You're his son, of course he can!"

"Am i? Am I his son? Or am I just another obligation? A reminder of his mistakes." Uncommon tears threaton to fall from Damians face. Reflecting in the early morning light.

"That's not true. He loves you." God, he was broken record.

"But does he like me? Does he really trust me?" Damian turned to him, fully letting him see the falling tears.

"Of course he likes you. You're his Robin and his son." He reached out a hand to wipe the tears from his face. His heart aches for his son.

Damian threw himself into his arms. His head made his way onto his neck and shoulder. Clutching and gripping his clothes. Dick grabs him and does his best tonadjust him into a healthier position to not hurt either one of them. There's a damp spot on his shoulder, but he ignores it.

"I'm your Robin too..."

"He's your dad, dami." He mutters into his hair. He uses his fingers to soothe the knots in his hair out as gently as he can.

"I wish-wish you were my real dad... not Bruce." Please don't say that. Please, you don't mean it. Damian starts sobbing and shudders against him. Shaking the both of them. He tries to soothe him. Rocking them back and forth.

"Dont say that. Don't do this to me -" He tries his best to get rid of the thoughts. Of them being actual father and son. Of him being able to take Damian home. Of not having to worry about Bruce's reminders that they're brothers. That he's Damians father, not him.

"You're his son." A reminder to himself just as much to Damian that he's Bruce's, not his. Damian just sobs louder. His heart breaks into pieces, and he tries to comfort him, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades. He turns his head and kisses his Baby Bats forehead. This angle allows him to see his face. It was soaked and reddened from the tears. Damian tries to bury himself closer to him.

"No-no..." Damians sobs into his arms. His jacket is drenched.

[twelve-forfend]

Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

[mheiiiuiiu]

TBH I am also in Founders AU moment rn.

I am not sure which family I could put hannigram into but I am totally can see Hannibal reincarnated into Senju family and supporting Tobirama's mad scientist arc.

He only did that so that more people will pay attention to Tobirama lab creation while he secretly cooks any rude noble from Daimyo court that pissed him off. People don't pay any attention much cause they are ninjas. The smell of blood is expected in daily life.

Guys guys

Which Naruto generations should have NBC! Hannigram reincarnated into? For funsies I thought it will be fun crack au if Hannibal reincarnated as the Uchiha eldest sibling making Itachi the middle one.

Hannigram also should be able to remember each other.

Also, Will should be reincarnated as an Inuzuka.

So, when Hannibal decided he is going to have his own Shonen Ai/ Yaoi moment in his second life he decided Shimura Danzo is rude and started planning his menu for his date with Will.

[driedlillies]

impure world reincarnation part 2

“Uchiha Izuna’s blood.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed Tobirama’s statement. After hearing the tale of the founding of the village, the last thing anyone expected was bringing up an old ghost again.

“What…?” Hashirama’s voice was quiet, and has lost all of the happiness he had when complimenting his brother’s work. If anything, he sounded lost. “How?”

Orochimaru looked as if he wanted to ask the same question. It was fair — in all his career as an amoral scientist, he discovered collecting genetic material from dead Uchiha to be particularly tricky, if not impossible in most cases. It was difficult to get anything from the ashes that remained after their funeral rites, after all.

“The blood from my sword. From our last encounter.”

“From when you killed him,” concluded his brother grimly. “You hadn’t even started working on that jutsu for another decade after that. Why did you do it? Madara would’ve killed you even before he left the village. According to their beliefs, you prevented him from reaching afterlife,” with every work, he sounded progressively angrier.

He was right, though — in the Uchiha belief system, their body was the physical link to the mortal world. It was one thing for Madara to have Izuna’s eyes — given freely and with a long and complicated process behind it non Uchiha were not privy to know much about — and another for an enemy to collect blood to use for experiments (probably?) later down the line.

“You knew that, Tobirama, and you locked it up so no one could find it when you promised me you got rid of all evidence of this jutsu — which was obviously a lie, I can see it now, even if at our first resurrection I was convinced you might’ve missed something and it wasn’t on purpose — what was even the reason?”

“That does not matter now.”

“No, I think it really does.” Sasuke joined in, not hiding the anger in his voice, Sharingan-red eyes ready to make his opinion known with black flames and nightmare visions. “Tell me, Senju, why you knowingly spit on our religion, on my clan, on my kin? Was this your first transgression of the alliance between our clans that build the foundation of this village, or did you break it in another way too?”

“Be mad at me however much you want, this is an opportunity we can’t pass up on.”

[badplayerana]

Current favorite cherik fics - pt6

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 7 | part 8

A bit of a different one this week, quite a few WIP in there that Ive been obsessed with and crave every update like hard drugs. enjoy <3

Best Laid Plans by InterstellarClark (WIP - updated today and ohhh my goddd)

Alpha Erik is tired of waiting for the right person to settle down with, he’s ready to be a father and have a family again. Omega Charles has lost everything, his inheritance, his job at Columbia, and needs a next step. Both of them turn to Stark Surrogacy, hoping they can find a future.

Punnett Squares and Metal Hearts by roseghoul (WIP - slow burn done RIGHT)

Charles Xavier taught biology at Westchester High School and has for the past seven years. If you were to ask his sister, Raven, then she’d say it was a waste of his Ph.D., but he was inclined to disagree. Founder of the Students With Disabilities Club, he’s created a bit of a name for himself at the school, nurturing an environment that encourages learning and acceptance. Erik Lehnsherr has thirty-six years under his belt, yet not a single one has been spent teaching, despite his Industrial Arts degree. Yet he accepted a teaching position, in the United States, of all places. Desperation for a new life would lead many to do rather rash things. After many months and piles of documents and certifications, he’s now a shop teacher at Westchester High School, and his first year is just around the corner. It’s a week before the first day of school when Erik meets Charles, and he’s put off by the optimistic man, yet curious to learn more about him. Charles, ever the kind soul, is eager to bring a new teacher under his wing, but his reasons are far from selfless, enraptured by the handsome, mysterious man with an even more mysterious history.

we recognize each other and call this love by mapofyourstars (so beautiful)

The nine times that Erik and Charles' souls met each other; and the final time their souls vowed to never be apart. A Reincarnation AU with a happy ending.

Lift me from my preconceptions by LimerenceKing (read this once, forgot to bookmark it and spent sooo long trying to find it again bc I couldnt stop thinking about it. go read!)

Online dating is hard enough, but being both mutant and disabled made it much harder for Charles. He thinks he finally finds someone, and sets out to go on a date with her.

Kintsugi by xtinethepirate (another series, perfect if you want a longer read)

When Charles had told Hank there would be a time when they would all be together again, he hadn't meant immediately. In Charles’s mind, that indeterminate time was something more along the lines of “in a few months or a year, once Erik realized what a colossal ass he had been and Charles had stopped wanting to punch him again.”

[maleyanderecafe]

The Lithromantic Duke (Webcomic)

Created by: 岚梓

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

The Lithromantic Duke is pretty short as of now but it does have an interesting concept relating to a ghost and a maid. I was surprised to find that this was a Chinese webcomic since it doesn't really follow the general Chinese webcomic styles (which is generally shorter lengths, but more chapters and a more speedy plot progression). Currently there are about 10 chapters out and the ghost is very cute.

The story starts out the Maid, Dolly, recalling Duke Hart Bolton, the founder of the kingdom. He was able to establish the kingdom, but died suddenly, without any children. After many years, the fifth duke has appeared in their mansion, Anders Bolton, who bears an identical appearance to the original Hart Bolton. It seems that they are preparing a ball for Anders who is about to get married and Dolly unveils a portrait of the original Duke Hart Bolton in the mansion. We learn pretty quickly that Duke Hart Bolton's ghost still resides in the mansion for about 100 years, and has been fawning and in love with Dolly, even though he cannot interact with her. Hart remembers when he first met Dolly five years ago, crying under his portrait as she started out wishing that she could work better. As the years went on, Hart began to fall for her and watched her while she worked throughout the mansion. As Dolly works to take care of the ball, Hart continues to fawn over her. During the ball, Hart watches as Anders ends up drinking poison from a cup, laughing and mocking him until Dolly comes in. Anders has a heart attack, causing Hart to also experience the same, and when he wakes up, he finds that he has taken over Ander's body. Happy with his new body, he immidiately goes down to dote on Dolly for the first time, startling Dolly and all of the maids as the head maid tries to blame her for the poisoning. He also accuses the head maid of stealing as he's watched them all in the household and brings Dolly into his room.

Dolly of course, is naturally really confused why the Duke has suddenly fallen for her and is doting on her with a lot of fancy clothes. As Hart continues to praise and dote on Dolly, Dolly starts to realize that she is likely the next of Anders's women that he's taken interest in, as Anders was notoriously a playboy and often jumped from women to women. Hart tries to bring her to different places that Dolly might like, such as the garden which she was never allowed to go to and showers her with gifts and praise. He also tries to kiss her, but holds back as he wants to slowly develop the relationship between them, as he knows that she's not aware of the fact that he's taken over Anders's body. The two continue the date until Hart is forced to talk to the princess, much to his dismay and leaves to attend his business. Here the butler slyly reminds Dolly that she is simply a maid and must maintain her place as such, even despite Hart's current doting on her. Hart pretty much goes to meet the princess, realizes that she's essentially a reincarnation of an old friend (just as a female), thanks her for her time and tells her to go back. The butler seems really distressed at this behavior, trying to lecture the duke that it's rude to do that, but Hart ends up messing with him and exerting his authority before going back to find Dolly again.

The maids end up dressing Dolly up and Hart and Dolly have a drink, with Dolly mistakenly believing that he wants her to test the alcohol for poison, as it's likely that the duke views her as disposable (when in reality, Hart was trying to give Dolly the wine she's always wanted to try). Dolly gets pretty nervous around the Duke as she doesn't want to be thrown away or otherwise be fired as her job as a maid, so tries her best to meet with the Duke's demands to keep her job, and the two end up sleeping in the same bed at night (and the Duke supposedly jacking off to her sleeping form). The next day, Hart disguises himself as a knight and brings Dolly to a boutique to buy her a bunch of dresses. The story ends so far with Dolly and Hart waiting for some street yams, while Dolly chases after someone to try to return their stopwatch to them.

As everyone knows, I'm a sucker for really cute yandere guys and Hart is adorable. He fawns over Dolly a lot and is really delusional at the idea that she and him are actually going on dates when he's in ghost form and is so happy to have a body that he immediately attempts to try to give Dolly everything she could ever ask for along with trying to give her things that he knows that she wants to try but isn't able to as her status as a maid. The way he fawns over her is just really cute and he wants to spend all of his time with her. An obsessive fanboy stalker type, at least when he was a ghost. It is kind of weird to think about since he has been just stuck to this mansion for like 100 years, so does that mean he's a 100 years old, and if so why does he have the mentality of like a younger guy. It's a bit weird to think about since he's technically like way older than her. Maybe they'll explain it later, like why Anders looks exactly like him physically. Does make me wonder where Anders went off to, did he turn into a ghost and swap places with Hart? That's kind of funny to think about. Currently, he doesn't seem to be very dangerous, but there are signs of it like how he didn't care that Anders got poisoned (mostly because he insulted Dolly), he has threatened the butler and made him bark (literally) and I think for sure would throw arms at anyone who hurt or was mean to Dolly. Currently though, he's more obsessive and doting, generally sweet to Dolly.

Dolly herself I feel like is put in a pretty bad situation. I think as a maid she is very competent and does her work well, but she's kind of forced out of her comfort zone to pretend to be Anders's lover. What makes it worse is because Anders is originally a playboy, she kind of is expecting that he's going to throw her away and can't really develop any genuine feelings because of it. I kind of feel bad for her since Hart is basically forcing his authority onto her just so that she can be with him and she just has to play along in hopes that she doesn't get fired. She feels very awkward with the gifts and dresses she has and can't even enjoy it because she believes that eventually the duke will just move on from her. Pretty terrible position to be in honestly, especially since it must feel weird for the maids to bathe and dress her when she's usually the one that has to do it. I do understand why the Duke is hesitant to reveal who he really is since I think Dolly would be kind of confused at the idea that a 100 year old spirit who took over his look alike would like her (and has been following her around for 5 years), but currently in the situation she's in, Dolly just really has her hands tied. I hope she's able to resume back to her maid position though since she seems like she's a very good maid.

If you like cute yanderes like I do, this one is a good read. It's pretty unfortunate that it's short, but it does have a unique point of view relating to the maids and the duke rather than what it usually is, which is a villainess character or the heroine. I hope we get to see Hart more as a yandere, both doting and otherwise.

[cherry-blossom-qf]

BEHOLD!! THE AU I'VE BEEN COOKING UP FOR MONTHS!!

DIGIMOM CODENAME: DREAMLAND!

Basic Story Info: Susie is the daughter of Max Haltmann, the CEO and founder of his own computer company. (kinda like the original Susie lol)

But on her 18th birthday, a bunch of Digimon came through a portal and kidnapped her father and half the employees of the company. And it's up to Susie to save her father from whatever evil Digimon is behind all of this.

Accompanying her as her digital partners are the first two friendly Digimon she met in the Digital World. Marxamon and Magomon. Two sneaky little scam artists that Susie saved from an angry mob.

Once they heard her story, they both (eventually) agreed to help Susie find her father and protect her from the dangers of the Digital World, with Susie mysteriously gaining a Digivice in the form of a wrist watch as a symbol of their friendship.

Together, the three of them traveled all across the Digital World, fighting battles, solving mysteries, exploring new areas, you get the idea.

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Info on Susie: A young girl from the city of [insert place in Japan that isn't effing Tokyo]. She's a headstrong go-getter and intelligent gal, who's a major tech wizard, finding comfort in machinery and modeling. She has a weakness to cute fluffy things and sweet treats. She's a huge "papa's girl", as her loving father is the best dad (and only parent) a girl could ask for. Which makes finding him even more important to her.

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Info on Marxamon: A silly little jester bat digimon that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Gluttony, Beelzemon, and a childhood friend of Magomon. With a "gives no shits" attitude and a craving for mischief, Marxamon is always up for a good prank or two. His special move "Spiraling Scream" has been known to leave even the strongest of champions feeling dizzy and temporarily deaf.

His Champion evolution, Jecksmon, is no different. Growing bigger wings, longer legs, and an even bigger taste for mischief than before! Having the ability to create mirrored copies of himself with his special move "Mirror Dance", and shoots blasts of chaotic energy from his mouth with his other move "Soul Cannon", he truly becomes chaos reincarnated!

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Info on Magomon: A little bell-shape feline magician that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Greed, Barbamon, and a childhood friend of Marxamon. Although somewhat timid, his cunning and clever nature shows no bounds, treating almost anything like a performance he must perfect. Shrouding his secrets in veils of lies that he swears to never unravel, as it might bring unwanted attention, (aka: this bitch's got MEGA TRAUMA and is keeping it all a secret). His special move "Gemtastic Bombs" has him throwing multiple bombs made of different types of gems, usually Sapphire, Ruby, and Emerald.

His Champion evolution, Galormon, gives him a huge confidence boost and some card tricks up his (metaphorical) sleeves! With the ability to spin around, creating a tornado of cards and fire with his special move "All-In-Spin" and sucking in enemies into his hat with his other special move "Hatter Hole", his performance on the battlefield makes this fancy Digimon a sight to behold!

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The other evolutions are gonna be left a mystery for now, cuz I haven't drawn them yet, lol.

So yeah, I hope you like this new AU!! I worked my ass off to figure this stuff out, and I hope it was worth the wait!!! ^w^

[weepingtalecowboy]

In Hylia's reflection was only her self to see

Fanfic prompt : If all mortals with the blood of the goddess are by definition a reincarnation of hylia

Then who is the true definition of their goddess

Having lived different lives and ended up as different people

Surly hylia can only be one

Is she one ?

Is she some ?

All…?

Is she even someone?

Yet nobody truly knows how she came to be

Orgins unknown as they are the goddess who became mortal remains a force beyond comprehension

But can the mortals who once were the goddess be her once again ?

But what consequences would that carry

They are different in perspective like snowflakes in a way yet they all sheer her bloodline

The first reincarnation and founder of Hyrule

A princess who had been turned to stone

A princess who became a warrior and aided the hero

A princess who got kidnapped enough times to be considered a damsel in distress

A princess who never has gotten the chance to be one and had to endure never ending hardship after the hero died in his quest leading to the downfall

A princess who got cursed into a century of sleep

A princess who lived in an era after her kingdom essentially fell into Ganon's hands

A princess who was helpless as her kingdom fell to the enemy and she could only pray for her hero to defeat the twilight

A princess who never knew that she was a princess and always was a pirate

A princess who lost her body yet aided the hero as a ghost

A princess who got tasked with saving hyrule from the equivalent of entropy

A princess who sacrificed herself in hope that she could aid her hero someday

A princess who became a queen and had to deal with a war

They all are different from each other after all… but tragedy and pain they carry all

As they pray for their goddess over and over to no avail

This hylia would be a being of intense suffering and suffering she will cause

All her mortal fractures reassembled into a single piece ridden with cracks and broken in a way that a mirror would be

A very saddening mirror

One promising the memories of conflict and tragedy

Like broken mirrors tend to become …

Fragile

But so very sharp

They injure people with the fragments scattered around and seemingly never ending

Maybe she causes so much pain because all she ever knew was the many broken shards of her being broken and painful to the touch

Maybe the goddess that caused their suffering was just as much in pain as this one is

Yet even as she tries to fix her precious reflection it just broke once again as she cut herself on her mortal mirror

Again…and Again and Again …

She just couldn’t fix her broken reflection as it looked at her in immense pain

But it was just her looking in the mirror

Like it tends to be with mirrors

…

They cannot show something that wasn’t only what is

And there was only pain to see

Or…

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if combining all royal family members makes them hylia

Like just them all being in close proximity to each other

And they get forced into a fusion

Like a tall eldrich horror goddess made of different people

Like the sheer mess that hylia would be if all the Zeldas just fused

Like imagine having eleven different lives all end up being blended into one

[oscconfessions]

ok headcanon: the GB we have today was born in yoyle without dimples, and the youlians had a big religious institution that beleived the GB from 1 billion years ago would reincarnate without their dimples and they'd gain them due to extreme turmoil so they tortured GB :( GB ran away from yoyle as it was crumbling down and she never looked back until BFDIA where she was forced to

the GB from 1 billion years ago was the founder of yoyle and one of the first sentient objects. they were great in social sciences (unlike the GB now) and were a religious leader that got visions of their reincarnated self

.