#((but it was nice to write at least))

[citrenecult]

Drew the Lamb, Narinder, and the Follower Bishops.

Some close ups.

[callisteios]

hello. I've made another uquiz! it tells you what kind of supernatural creature you are give it a go :)

[keferon]

…..I genuinely can’t remember the exact size difference between Rodimus and Thunderclash hahaha. And I’m too lazy to search for a panel with them standing next to each other👍

Anyway.

@lush-specimen and their Over My Dead Body fic made me love this giant metal teddy bear. I couldn’t help but draw him:>

[sualne]

small oneshot turning into something longer than planned

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 2

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 1 794

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Of new names and teasing

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part

Duke knew that Dani was in their agreed meeting point, he even vaguely knew where she was floating but not much more. She used her invisibility, which was weird since she knew it didn't work correctly on him. It was fifth time they met, of course they knew. 

"Hey Signal, remember how you said that I need a codename if we're going to hang out in future and that all my previous ideas were horrible names?" a disembodied girly voice asked. Duke smiled. Ever since he raised the idea, the girl would come up with ridiculous names to be called, proposing them with absolutely straight face. It was expected from someone who thought Dani Phantom was a good alias. It didn't make her ideas any less amusing.

"Of course I do. Whatcha got for me today?"

"Alright, since you don't let me be a name stealer, I decided to take a sheet from local nightlife's notebook–"

"You mean take a leaf from their book?" He was sure she was rolling her eyes on him, but it didn't stop him. No one could maim English language like that with him around.

"Whatever. I chose to steal their idea and became a bird. It's only fair since I can actually fly!"

"Can't exactly disagree. So, what did you get this time?"

"You'll like that, I promise. But now, I introduce to you…"

Duke got ready to shut down every Robin iteration and all Birdgirls he could think of.

"HOOPOE!" Dani yelled, popping back to the visible spectrum. She was covered in bright orange cape with weirdly shaped hood and flimsy mask "I even did some costume changes to fit the name better–" in all honesty, one, yeah, he wasn't blind he realized, two, he needed a moment to remember how these birds looked (his first thought was 'wait it's a thing?!'). But then he got it and yeah, those were funny little creatures, just like Dani. It fitted her "–so even if you don't like it, it doesn't matter," she added, sticking her tongue out.

Duke patted her on the head. He was there, he knew it mattered.

"It's a great name Hoopoe"

Dani visibly though probably unconsciously, relaxed. Her mouth curved into a proud grin and her aura brightened. Normal auras didn't do that. He got used to Dani surprising him like that sometimes.

"Of course it's great, I made it."

Duke chose to not remind her about almost two dozen times she came up with absolutely not great names or about the fact that technically she didn't quite make this one either. He wasn't in such a petty mood. Maybe in future if he needed blackmail.

Oh, it was such a Bat thing, wasn't it? He needed to spend some more time with his civilian to get it out of himself, he liked his ability to interact with normal people in a healthy way. 

*

"Wait, is your mask a paper?"

"What else could it be, titanium?"

"If you stop three muggings on the next three patrols each I'll get you a better one, okay?"

"Hey, my mask is perfectly fine"

"Yeah, but it can tear too easily. I can get you a mask that is more sturdy."

"Aha."

"It's the same material every Robin and Nightwing wear…"

"Don't care, my mask is flawless"

"..."

"Okay, better mask would be cool"

***

On the third patrol Dani joined, about a week and a half ago, they exchanged numbers. Duke knew how hard it was to come to terms with new powers on one's own and God strike him with a lightning or something if he ever lets anyone go through similar bullshit. Especially since she didn't seem to have anyone taking care of her. Girl her age shouldn't be able to hang out or respond to messages within ten minutes at any given time. Only twice she didn't do that, because she was on a celebrity hunt for autographs as she later explained. He would be teased endlessly if any Wayne or their associate learned about it, but he considered introducing Dani to Bruce. She needed help, okay?! He didn't inherit adoption tendencies.

But he hadn't done that, partially because he didn't want to scare Dani off and partially because of fear of teasing. And bet. Because of course in the meantime somehow there happened a bet. 

He smirked at the video Dani sent as a response to the hydration check. She was tossing a coin and playing an elimination game to pick one juice from eight drinks she had. Steph jumped over the back of the couch to join him. At the start she was in front of him so to do that she had to run around the furniture but such minor inconveniences couldn't even wish to stop her dramatics.

"You're smiling at your phone ergo you either text your secret girlfriend/boyfriend/enbyfriend or watch memes. Show me the memes," she demanded, nudging him in the arm. Duke chuckled.

"Wrong guess. I'm texting my sidekick," they agreed it would be a funny way to introduce Dani to people who asked. Duke tried his best at this whole having sidekick thing anyway. As well as he could without help from other Bats because of this damn bet.

Steph froze for a moment.

"Your what–"

"And the lucky winner is… an apple with mint juice! Damn I really hoped it would be lemonade,"  Dani from the video announced cheerfully before opening the bottle" Shame it didn't make it past semi-finals. Happy hydration break. I'm going on an autograph hunt so I may not respond for the next two hours or so. Wish me luck, bye~"

Duke paused the video before it replayed. He glanced at Steph who finally rebooted.

"How come you got a kid and I learned about it just now?"

“In my defense I'm like 60% sure you're the second person in the family to learn about her. Depends if Tim got his ‘I have to know everything, gotta check body cams’ paranoid spree in the last two weeks or not. There was no teasing from Babs or anyone else if I'm being honest and no lecture from B, so they have no idea.”

“First was Alfred?”

“First was Alfred. I still don't know how.”

“That's our grandtler for you. You are forgiven but you have to tell me everything about her,” Steph demanded excitedly. “And show me the photos''

Duke snorted.

“She goes by Hoopoe and is about Damian's age. She can tell you her real name when B inevitably finds out and tries to interrogate her.”

“What if Spoiler drops by during the day?”

“You can try but give it another week and a day, okay?”

“Why?”

“We have bet that I'll hide her from B for three weeks. Tomorrow is the end of the second week. We both know how he is, he'll have questions if you randomly show up during the day."

"Stakes?"

"Speedster worth of winners favorite Batburger meal, 2 quarts of chosen drink and cookies"

"Valid. I ain't snitch, but I want to know more. Is she a meta?”

"Yeah. Powers I know of are invisibility, intangibility, superspeed, enhanced hearing and flight. Probably more. I think she already had some training with it because she has quite amazing control over this stuff. Like, it comes naturally to her. But her hand to hand is atrocious."

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Omg, you totally are! Don't be, she is just a baby with a better idea of what's going on with her powers than you have with yours. There is nothing to be mad about Duke, it's okay Duke–"

"Keep going and I won't tell you anything about her," he dared, trying not to snort. 

"Sorry, sorry, you're doing great, please continue," she nudged his arm again "Don't be such softie, dude" He stared at her at the comment, disbelief clear on his face. Steph at least then looked a little ashamed "Okay, sorry. You're honestly doing far better than any of us would. Excluding Cass and Alfred."

"Excluding Cass and Alfred," he agreed easily enough.

"So, you think your kid has some training with her powers," she recalled eagerly.

"Yeah, probably from when she was helping her cousin. He is a hero in Amity Park, Illinois, his name is Phantom. It took very little digging even though Hoopoe does her best to stay mysterious. I swear this kid has no brain-mouth filter. But! I got my second shovel talk from her cousin!”

“The what?”

“After a week of hanging out with her, I got message on Signal’s twitter from Phantom that basically read as ‘I have nothing against you, really dude I’m a fan but here is list of my most powerful enemies, and let me tell you, there were some scarily powerful guys there, I won with all of them, if something bad happens to Hoopoe I can and will destroy you.’ After some research, yes, I think he could try and have considerable chance of success. Even if he didn’t fight would be painful enough to be a lesson. He and Hoopoe have the same powers and she worked with him for some time. She most likely learned then. She was called Dani Phantom, boy went by Danny Phantom then”

“Dear gods, their aliases were so horrible, who even let them go with it?! Are those their first names?!” Steph sounded genuinely offended by it.

“I don’t know,” Yeah, he knew, but he preferred to keep at least this secret to himself ”In boy's defense, because Hoopoe came much later,  he was fourteen and Amity went to shit really fast, so alias was probably not his first concern. And it’s much better than Invioso-bill, name he was given by the press. And he uses some intense gaslighting to make people believe it’s just Phantom now. And allegedly they’re both ghosts. Apparently ghosts don’t exactly have secret identity”

“You doubt it”

“You would too. She eats, she breathes and she is tangible by default. From what I know, ghosts don’t do that”

“They don’t, I checked. I went on a research spree when I first learned about Deadman. I just thought it was so cool you know. Ghosts being real and all,” Steph leaned towards him, almost vibrating with anticipation.

“Really?” he asked, knowing what he was getting into.

“Yeah, you see…”

And on she went, releasing expected infodump as if she waited for this opportunity ever since she first read about it.

********

Some additional name getting shenanigans

Signal: I won't call you Dani in the field

Dani: Why?

Signal: Ever heard of secret identity? Name is, like, half of it. Disguise is other half but it can be exchanged with lore. Superman made it work. Just make up enough lore for people to not question it.

Dani: Oh, okay *gremlin^2 mode activated*

Random they just rescued: And who are you little one?

Dani: *looking them dead in the eyes* I am clone of dead child hero, travelling around the world to find identity separated from my template befre mistakes made during my creation make me turn into puddle of primordal liquid and my conciousness fades forever

Random: *petrified* What?

Signal: *internally* I have miscalculated

Dani: Kid Signal

Signal: No.

Dani: It works in Central

Signal: We're not in Central

Dani: Signalgirl

Dani: I mean, Batgirl exists

Signal: No.

Dani: Monochromatic Signal. Y'know, Red Robin route?

Signal: ...

Signal: Just no. Don't make my name part of your name

Next part

Do you want to see some Hoopoe doodles I made? There were redesigns!!!

[coolnonsenseworld]

Samurai and Ninja in crappy pics because December here is under a constant cloud and I just want y'all to see them all golden and cute without learning how to take aesthetic pictures 🥴 💙❤️😆🥰

linktr.ee/Mezzy

[doki-doki-imagines]

hello! i’d like to request something: lin kuei trio reacting to their s/o –who usually wears pants to fight– surprising them one day when they both are going on a mission together with wearing a short dress-like suit of the same color as their uniform (blue for bi-han, yellow for kuai liang, gray for tomas) pretty please

author note: if you like what I write consider tipping or commissioning me on ko-fi!

Bi-Han: -"Are you sick in the head?" He says the moment he notices how you dressed up. -Bi-Han will shout at you to go back to your usual uniform, his index finger pointing just under your nose. -He won't shut his mouth until you go back to change and if you keep your position his anger will only increase. -Missions are to be taken seriously, and you are just making him lose time. Long pants aren't designed just as a fashion choice. -Bi-Han will be really pissed at you for the rest of the day, but professional during the mission. Please don't pull these stunts when there are important matters, it's not rewarding.

Kuai Liang: -He'll look at you wide-eyed "New uniform?" "Yes, do you like it?" You say twirling on your place. "I would have liked it more if you wore it at home-" -Liang isn't furious, but a bit worried for sure. -He'll get way angrier than his older brother if you get hurt. Even more, if your legs get damaged. -"Missions have to be taken seriously! We aren't here to show off!" -I don't think he'd appreciate your new uniform anyway, he prefers to look at you like that in private quarters.

Tomas Vrbada: -"You look nice in that." He says before chuckling. -His sky blue eyes tend to drift towards your bare legs but mostly Tomas will concentrate on protecting you. -It can also be a nice way to show off. Looking like a hero ready to save you! -But mostly Tomas will be worried about your safety. Missions don't always go smoothly after all. -At the end he may even flip up the end of your uniform, making you shriek and pull down on your skirt. -Tomas chuckles again; he lives for your cute reactions.

[politemagic]

everyone say congratulations to the first time homeowners!

edit: i may or may not have been inspired to write some headcanons based on this, if you're interested

[popponn]

a hug and some words. [mikage reo x f!reader]

note: reo seems like a soft someone who knows how to cheer someone up. like he seems like someone who has a lot of arsenal for that you know. warning: light allusion to bad day and insecurity, prince & princess as pet names, but mostly fluff and comfort for everyone, especially you who needs a hug rn. i offer u, domestic cohabitation cuddling baby. and @yoisami saki bby i write reo (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾ i hope u like it darling

When you suddenly threw your arms around him, Reo’s first reaction was to blink. Before you buried your face to his chest, fondly and tiredly, you noted how it was adorable.

“Oh, you are home?” he asked as he took off the earphones he wore. A hand reaching out to wrap itself around your waist. “Didn't hear you coming in. Welcome home.”

Feeling another hand reaching out to your hair and gently resting on it, you couldn't help but nuzzle further into Reo’s chest. It felt odd being the one coming home searching for this. Most of the time, it was him being busier than ever with you already sitting somewhere in the penthouse the two of you share, ready to spoil him at a moment’s notice.

Nonetheless, it was comforting.

“I’m home,” you said, muffled by the soft fabric of his sweater. It seemed to be the one you bought some time ago. It wasn't as expensive as most of his clothing, but Reo seemed to like it. It made you want to coo, or talk to him about it—as an idle chat for any other ordinary day. Yet, this time you could only take note of it silently and let your fatigue seep in, weighing down your body as you felt like you were turning into a lump inside Reo’s hug.

“…did something happen today?” Reo ask softly, shifting his back to lay down on the sofa all while also dragging you along with him, letting you rest your head on his chest still whilst your legs rest in between his.

“Nothing,” you answered shortly. You tried to keep your tone as light as possible, but Reo is sharp. It wouldn't surprise you if he didn't buy it.

Reo raised an eyebrow at your response. “Yeah. No way. Fess up, who makes my princess look so pouty?” Reo pressed as he kissed one of your eyelids softly.

“I’m not pouting,” you protested, half-hearted and almost grumbling.

“Say that when you are really not,” he replied easily, the teasing lilt in his voice mismatching the gentle expression he wore. Yet again, you were reminded of how he truly was almost like a prince in every aspect. That thought filled your mind with both petals and mud, at that moment. He truly is wonderful. Way too wonderful for you even, perhaps.

You didn't know what sort of face that you made. You truly hope it wasn't the face of an ugly someone pretending to be a princess to his prince. But whatever it was, it certainly made Reo’s smile wane away.

He stayed silent for another few seconds, simply staring at you. Then, he asked again, softer yet with more weight in his tone, “…seriously, what happened?”

It was a bit unnerving how the tone he used made you almost want to spill everything out. From the first to the last. Gladly, unfortunately, the fatigue won and overwhelmed you. Breathlessly and bitterly, you just laughed and turned your head away. “Many things. I don't know. Can I just tell you later, really?”

Faintly, you could feel the thumping of his heartbeat against your ear. It felt calming, along with the hand that someone had snaked around and fiddled with the hem of your top since who knows when. You feel terrible—look at him, your beloved. as perfect as always, understanding and affectionate, concerned and caring, and you can't even return all those. Maybe you truly were—

“Okay. Sure, then let's talk about them later—ah, just saying I'm holding that promise though, okay!” Reo said, tightening his hold around your waist. Once again he moved around slightly, a bit ungraceful but somehow very cute like a particularly adorable small animal, trying to bring you upward a little bit more. The moment he managed to get your face closer to his, he let his chin rest on the crown of your head. “Now, watch this shitty opera with me. This one is really shit. But I’m curious about who will she end up with, so you have to suffer through this with me.”

As Reo swiftly returned to the foreign telenovela in his phone, you blinked absentmindedly. You could have sworn it was a soccer match minutes ago when you arrived. Did you see it wrong? Reo actually has an interest in some tacky soap opera? That was new. You kind of wanted to laugh, even though it stunned you. How were you supposed to react—

Oh.

“…do you really want to watch or is this some attempt to cheer me up? Just saying the latter will make me feel stuffs already,” you said as the female protagonist started slapping someone who was probably her evil stepmother.

Reo made a hum that sounded way too smug. While it wouldn't be surprising if this guy has a “cheer up darling” plan or such with an equally embarrassing name, you didn't really expect this. “And it's working, isn't it? Isn't your prince amazing?”

“Eh,” you scoffed. You wished you could answer him jokingly, but out of many many things inside your heart, you couldn't even lie for a harmless banter. With a gaze that you hoped was enough to say everything to him, you nudged at him slightly. “He is, of course. enough that I wonder how could a peasant like me deserve him.”

Hearing your answer, Reo glanced away from his screen and let his eyes wander to yours. There was something you couldn't quite put into words at that moment. But, you were fully aware of how your breath hitched when the quirks on his lips grew wider.

“Well, let's see,” Reo said, with a hand caressing shapes on top of your hip, “Do you really want to hear them all, Princess?”

[mylittleredgirl]

i'm so charmed by the letter trapper gets back from his wife in "kim"

louise mcintyre is hilarious actually

[lord-squiggletits]

The reason this fandom hates IDW Optimus isn't because he's a cop (plenty of people are fine with Prowl) or because he's a bastard (most characters in IDW are) but because he commits the crime of being an actual person who's messy, flawed, and makes a shitload of high stakes mistakes fitting for the intense situations and pressure he's put under constantly.

But we can't have Optimus actually react to his situations by lashing out or being unpleasant, no, he has to have the personality of a cardboard cutout of G1 whose only defining personality traits are "dad, funny, nice," and if he ever vents negative emotions it can only ever be #relatable depression or him being sad on his own without ever letting it show during the important parts of the story. If Optimus dares do things like be angry or frustrated or bitter it's just a sign that he's a bastard and LITERALLY the worst Optimus ever. If Optimus ever makes mistakes or does wrong things in the heat of anger/frustration/stress it's because he's just an evil bastard with no redeeming traits.

God forbid Optimus go through an unending gauntlet of war, politics, atrocities, near-complete loneliness, and a seemingly endless cycle of violence for his entire life and come out of it kind of bitter, angry, and tired of dealing with people's shit. He's not allowed to be a realistic person, context doesn't matter, sympathy doesnt matter. IDW Optimus doesn't fulfill the fandom's fantasies of Father Figure or Perfect Cultural Icon or Twinky Fucktoy and since that's the only reason most people care about Optimus in general, the fandom collectively trashes on IDW OP.

All because he can't fit into the overly simplified and childlike double standard the fandom has where if any other character is messy and flawed, that's good writing and interesting and compelling, but if OPTIMUS is messy and flawed, he's Literally The Worst and he's an asshole for no other reason than He Sucks, context be damned

[legolasghosty]

Lockwood has never been overly fond of lavender. Sure, it's nicer looking and smelling than most of the other tools used to separate the living and the dead, but he's always felt a bit annoyed at it. He rarely brings it up though, because there's not really a reason for his dislike.

Maybe it's that the purple stalks are everywhere, all the time. Along every London street, in every garden, in every room where mortals fear those who have passed beyond. Even in the winter, everyone has dried flowers in their homes and sprinkles the oils over their doorsteps. There's no way to get away from the stuff.

Maybe it's because lavender water is one of the weakest tools in an agent's toolkit. Lockwood barely ever uses it for anything other than reassuring clients that their home is safe after a job. For all the discussion of it, it's nothing in comparison to some sturdy iron chains and a rapier when it comes to battling ghosts. It's just a waste of space in his coat during a job.

Maybe it has to do with the way the scent sets people at ease. Somewhere in George's research, Lockwood remembers him mentioning how lavender water used to be used to treat insomnia before the Problem. Even now, with it being used to protect mortals from everything that goes bump in the night, he doesn't miss how the smell of lavender tends to cause people to loosen up, laugh a bit more, and let their guards down. Any kind of weakness can mean death for an agent, even when it comes from one of their own weapons.

Or, if he's being honest, maybe it goes deeper than that. Maybe it's because Jessica's room is always covered in the stuff, and has been since the day he failed to save her. Maybe it's because the flowery scent is all he can remember from his parents' funeral. Maybe it's because the stupid plants kept tripping him when he ran away from his old agency. Maybe it's just too many bad memories.

Regardless of the reason, Lockwood has never really liked lavender.

However, it's hard to hold onto those thoughts with Lucy sitting on the grass nearby, surrounded by night watch children, with a sloppy crown of purple flowers on her head.

She's had a soft spot for them for as long as Lockwood has known her. She claims it's because of how close she became to being one of them when she first got to London. Lockwood suspects that's not the whole story. But today, her kind heart has led them to a park down the street from Portland Row, at the beckoning of a group of children who had pooled their meager earnings to have a picnic.

Lockwood has stayed on the outskirts of the little gathering, unsure as to what would be expected of him if he joined in. But Lucy is right in the middle, regaling the kids with stories of the ghosts she's defeated. They're hanging on her every word. Lockwood can't blame them for it, Lucy is a good storyteller when she wants to be. Even if she glazes over his parts in some of her tales.

But one of the older ones had gotten restless and begun plucking sprigs of lavender from a nearby bush. Lockwood had been about to reprimand them for the needless destruction of public property, but they'd begun weaving the stems together into a chain before he could speak. It was barely five minutes before they looped the chain into a circle and plopped it onto Lucy's head without a word.

And now, staring at Lucy, her eyes bright in the sunshine, her hands waving around as she described the Greenhouse Ghoul, and those flowers shining like gemstones in her hair, Lockwood can't quite remember why he doesn't like lavender.

In fact, he thinks he very much enjoys how it looks right now. Maybe it's not so bad after all.

(For the most recent Lockwood and Co Flash Fiction Challenge by @lockwoodandcoff!)

[redbootsindoriath]

Apparently in my absence this post had its 1000-notes-iversary.

This time we get to see the culprit responsible for ruining our heroes' lives as well.

I've really missed you guys, by the way. I know I've said that already, but I'm serious. Once or twice this year I've been right on the brink of coming back but schedule stuff always keeps me from letting myself commit to that again, and that in turn has kept me from posting anything at all. But I've been in an unexpected drawing mood lately and so if I can get enough stuff to set up a queue we might pretend I'm back for a month or so sometime this year. Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see. No promises though. That's why I'm hiding this paragraph under the cut.

Transcription:

[Beren:] "Uhhh...barkeep...I think he's had enough now..." [Tolkien:] "No, I don't think he has...!"

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

whatever you do, don't think about how lana saw herself in edgeworth, ok? don't think about how she wanted to distance herself from him the moment they met because he could possibly see through the sl-9 plan and ruin everything, but she couldn't because he was kind, if not a little awkward, to her terrified sister in a case where everyone else's only concern was securing a conviction. don't think about how she brought ema to the prosecutor's office (because she damn well wasn't going to let her sister face this alone) with her hackles raised and her defences bolstered because she'd heard about the "demon prosecutor" and his ways just to realise he's nothing but a young man, trying his best to survive under the weight of his mentor's shadow and ensure justice is served by whatever means he can. don't think about how she felt later, when she was under gant's thumb and knew for a fact that all those rumours surrounding von karma's perfect record were, in fact, true and that he was using edgeworth's faith in him to fulfill his own goals. don't think about how she felt when she had to begin doing the same. or what must have gone through her head when she entered her office one morning to find a case approval form waiting for her on her desk: the state v. miles edgeworth. don't think about how she knew, once she saw the name of the prosecutor assigned to his case, that she was signing his death warrant. don't imagine what she rehearsed saying to his sister or her realisation, after his miraculous survival, why he had been so understanding of her own. don't wonder, as she did, ineffectually, if it was his competence or her fondness for him that led to his car and knife being chosen to cover goodman's murder — a second attempt at his permanent removal — and whether it was affection or guilt that made her stand by the corpse, waiting readily to be caught in his stead. don't think about how she finds out, eventually, that he is gone, in a jail cell so far from remorse, gratitude and closure that she can only sit and turn in her head distorted thoughts about luck and fortuitous third chances. don't.

[whetstonefires]

A LA MEME. MDZS, Really nice guy who hates only you, hate at first sight?

It was totally inappropriate for a corpse to be popular.

But there it was: the Ghost General was more well-liked every day. He seemed to spend all his time wandering around rescuing maidens from monsters and lifting wagons off of old men. In a few years he'd be a hero of the people.

Even the cultivation world didn't expect harm from him anymore. Most of Jin Ling's peers addressed the corpse as qianbei; Jin Ling didn't, but he seemed to get on with him well enough.

Jiang Cheng hadn't actually said out loud, when he saw Wen Qionglin parting ways with Sect Leader Jin with an exchange of polite salutes, he killed your father, but he'd looked it. Jin Ling, fluent in Jiang Cheng's expressions, sighed.

"It was an accident," he said. "And he's apologized. And, you know, uncle, he was held prisoner by Jin Sect almost my entire life, you can't say he hasn't paid for it. And..."

And they had killed his whole family. And his older sister.

Jiang Cheng looked away. "Huh."

When Jiang Cheng had made his first, clumsy attempt at mending a little of the gruesome breach between himself and Wei Wuxian, the Ghost General had been there, glaring daggers at him from behind the Yiling Laozu.

It had been more disconcerting than it should have been, and Jiang Cheng had stumbled, interrupted himself, and fallen silent enough times that eventually Wei Wuxian had taken pity on him, reached out, patted him on the arm one time, said, "Good talk, Jiang Cheng," and extricated them both from the situation.

Freed from the burden of conversation, he'd returned Wen Qionglin's glare, and lost. Corpses didn't need to blink.

He didn't want the bastard to like him. Which was just as well since it was out of the question. Jiang Cheng had never for a second in his life liked Wen Qionglin; from the first time he'd laid eyes on him when they were youths he'd interpreted him as a pathetic, burdensome coward, and despised him for it.

Owing the man his life had made it worse--he hadn't even wanted to be saved, and it was Wei Wuxian's stupid horrible charm and habit of interfering where he wasn't wanted that had done it, and like hell had he owed anything, when that person's family had murdered his. (I owe him nothing, he'd told himself once, because Wen Qionglin had been the reason he lost Wei Wuxian.)

Another time, he found himself in both their company and drew apart, letting the Yiling Patriarch and the Ghost General play at being mentors to the youth. Neither of you lived to see twenty-five, he wanted to shout. What do you think you have to teach them?

Even Jin Ling...it made him furious. Furious to glance over and see a corpse's stiff face conveying softness.

Furious to look past the crowd and see Lan Wangji's eyes falling on Wen Qionglin with an unmistakable resentment. And to know that it wasn't the stiff propriety of the Lan Wangji of their youths, objecting to the heresy of that fierce corpse's existence; that it was the look of a petty, jealous man resenting the way Wei Wuxian knocked his shoulder together with the Ghost General's and laughed.

"Where do you get off hating Wen Ning?" he asked the next time he found himself alone with Lan Wangji. It was a stupid thing to ask, but if he let himself think about how they were threshing through the underbrush looking for Wei Wuxian, about the last time they had looked for Wei Wuxian together...

Lan Wangji ignored him.

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Okay. So maybe you don't hate him. But he likes you! He's so deferential it makes me want to puke."

Lan Wangji favored him with the merest hint of a sneer, just enough to show he was listening to Jiang Cheng talk.

"You're disgusting," said Jiang Cheng. "Do you really think he shouldn't have anyone but you in his life? That he's your property?"

Lan Wangji's stride broke. It was a triumph, in a way--Jiang Cheng had never thrown him so badly in all the years they'd known each other.

"Each man judges others by his own heart," said Lan Wangji, thick with contempt, and then he was walking ahead with pointed rapidity, determined to separate from Jiang Cheng, until staying together would have meant chasing after him, and Jiang Cheng turned and went the other way, muttering blackly.

In the end, fittingly, neither of them caught up in time to be of use. Wen Ning, with his homing sense for Wei Wuxian, had shown up out of who the fuck knew where and bailed him out.

Jiang Cheng stumbled upon the haunted spring just in time to see a sodden, bedraggled Wei Wuxian launch himself away from his pet Wen's supportive arm and fling himself against the upright form of Hanguang-jun, which bent around him with a reverent murmur.

Jiang Cheng was already turning away in disgust to head back home, hating that he'd let himself be dragged into this, when he heard Lan Wangji say with careful, solemn deliberation: "Thank you, Wen Qionglin. For taking care of him."

Jiang Cheng glanced back against his will to see the Ghost General saluting deeply, wide-eyed, infinitely humble, his murmur that it was nothing special, Hanguang-jun, nearly drowned out by Wei Wuxian's delighted shouting about how good his Lan Zhan was and how much Wen Ning deserved to be appreciated.

Jiang Cheng walked away.

Wen Qionglin wasn't rude to him. Not in any way you could point at. And he knew full well he'd be making an ass of himself if he tried to pick a verbal fight.

After all, they had killed Wen Qionglin's older sister.

The whole cultivation world had done it, but only Jiang Cheng had done it after Wen Qionglin saved his life. He'd told himself he owed no debt for that, and perhaps he hadn't, but the fact remained: of the two of them, one had been brave and virtuous and earned the loyalty of Wei Wuxian.

And one of them had been pathetic, a coward, a burden.

Jiang Cheng could never look at the man without seeing the look in his dead eyes across the length of Suibian.

Jiang Cheng had never been good at lying to himself, especially if the lie was meant to be comforting. He always tried it anyway. Comforting lies used to sound so true, in Wei Wuxian's mouth; he should never have gotten into the habit of relying on that. To letting that person think Jiang Cheng was someone who needed to be swaddled in falsehoods to give him the strength to bear up under his own duties.

Wen Qionglin was a kind, gentle, courageous dead body, shy and courteous and increasingly appreciated for his virtues, in this strange new world created in the wake of Jin Guanyao's disgrace. And whenever his eyes fell on Jiang Cheng they were cold, hard, flat, contemptuous.

Every time he looked at him Jiang Cheng could nearly hear him thinking, like a cold wind against the back of his neck: I should have left you in that heap of corpses with the rest of your family.

What are you worth, Jiang Wanyin, that so many should be spent in saving you? That Wei Wuxian would drag us all into the shadow of death to make you whole, only for you to turn your face aside when it was me lying there, and let him die for us without lifting a finger?

Selfish, whining coward. If only I had left you there to die.

If only, Jiang Cheng imagined spitting back, anger hot and bracing in his throat. If only! I never asked for any of it! How dare you expect me to repay you!

But Wen Qionglin never spoke any of the words out loud. He only looked, cold dead flat black eyes. A frozen river. Sometimes Jiang Cheng thought that if he lashed out hard enough he would break a hole in the ice, and be devoured whole.

[prince-liest]

I have officially hit a "too stressed to write" state of affairs that I suspect will last until this Sunday. Kinda hoping folks aren't too disappointed in the sudden change in regular update schedule - sorry. :(