#hes entrusted with trying to find the secret to life. he can't keep secrets. he's allergic to chocolate. he eats nothing but chocolate.

[miicycle]

The Kung Fu Panda Movies have always had Mr. Ping give the moral of the story, and I think about that a lot. Yes, Po is usually out fighting bad guys when realizing where he should be mentally and skillfully, on his own when he gets the point of teachings. Ping is such an important person in Po's life, just as much as Shifu is needed to help Po learn Kung Fu.

Way more under the cut!!!

Kung Fu Panda 1: "You are almost ready to be entrusted with the secret ingredient of my secret ingredient soup. And then you will fulfill your destiny and take over the restaurant [...]" - Ping

"Secret Ingredient of my secret ingredient soup" being an allegory for Dragon scroll and "destiny" being Po becoming the Dragon warrior and "take over the restaurant" as being Oogway's successor.

Then it turns out the scroll is blank. And Ping feels its a good place to tell Po about the secret ingredient. NOTHING. For something to be special, you just have to BELIEVE it's special.

So Po, not needing any secret scroll or any cool powerup, wins against Tai Lung by believeing in himself.

Ping made him believe in himself. And when Po fulfills his destiny of defeating Tai Lung, he's PROUD!

Kung Fu Panda 2: "Po, your life may not have such a happy beginning, but look at how it turned out! You got me, you got kung fu! And you got noodles!" - Ping (and almsot identical quote said by Soothsayer)

And

Po: "I gotta go. I'm the Dragon Warrior, it's kinda my job to save Kung Fu. And if I don't, what am I?"

Ping: "You're my son! ... Right?"

The message is pretty clearcut, but it's repeated very heavily in the movie. Mr Ping may not be his father, but he is his dad. No matter where he came from, Po is Mr Pings son through and through and he very much loves him.

The scene where Po has been knocked into a river and saved by the Soothsayer, she says the same thing that Ping does. He didn't have a happy beginning, but what matters is who he is, and what he chooses to do now.

And the montage plays everything hes done up until now, but also empathizes the moments between Ping and Po. The last thing he sees in his mind is Ping being a dad, because he is Po's dad! Whatever happened before doesn't have bearing for who Po chooses to be. So when he chooses to be the son of a goose and the Dragon Warrior, nothing he finds out can change that.

Because Dragon Warrior or not, Po is Ping's son! Right?

Kung Fu Panda 3: "He's hurt. He's confused. And he still has to save the World! He needs both his dads." - Ping

"I realized that having you in his life doesn't mean less for me. It means more for Po." - Ping

And

"I'm not trying to turn you into me. I'm trying to turn you into you!" - Shifu

(Love how often Shifu and Ping mirror each other's roles btw they're both so important)

So these are a little less on the nose, but again super important. No matter what Po is going through, he still has to fulfill his destiny, and giving him support while he does so is the best they can do. Ping was initially worried of Li Shan stealing Po away, but realizes that bonding with his biological father doesn't take him away from Ping, just more love and support for Po.

But also, Po learning that he doesn't have to change drastically to reach his true potential. When Ping and Li Shan stand on the small platform and tell Po that they can help, along with all other pandas, Po has the realization that he can't turn them into him, just as Shifu can't turn him into Shifu, or Li Shan can't turn him into a typical panda.

Ping doesn't say a direct quote to mirror Shifu's, but he did initiate talking to Li Shan after Po and Li Shan had the liar reveal. Li never had the experience of having an arguement with his child, but Ping obviously does. So he takes it upon himself to keep being the rock that Po can lean on by talking to Li Shan and helping him realize that they have to be there for Po, no matter what happens.

Because again. Po is hurt. Po is confused. But he still has to save the world. He needs both his dads.

I love Ping so much for being a good dad in this way. He really plays well as a support character and is such a good parent. Yeah, Po may not fit the mold the way Ping expected (taking over the noodle shop etc) but hes still so proud!!!

[rice-enjoyer]

Shed your kindness and composure ; like overworn snake's skin.

a/n: i post super inconsistently, apologies! harbinger time! smashing pots and pans harbinger time! of the sagau first impressions after realizing you are a morally grey god and not that sweet and kind one they tell tales and sing songs about. Mond version! Inazuma version! dottore and childe get like 2x more content than everyone else because they have blorbo rights cw: gn reader, sagau, so every juicy tag that usually comes with it! cult-ish, obsessive behavior, power dynamics, mention of blood. tartaglia is very battlesexual and 100% wouldn't mind dying by your hand. other than that, fluff! SIGNORA IS ALIVE ; I AM IN DENIAL! alrecchino gets shy, not clickbait, not proofread, as usual! sumeru archon quest(chapter III act II), spoilers in Sandrone's part!

There is always that special someone who knows just a bit more about you, excluding the gods. Between the harbingers? Il Dottore. You entrusted him with fixing you after your accidental arrival in Teyvat. Your godly powers couldn't heal, so after realizing you can teleport to places at will, he was the first person you went to, right after the gods. You deemed that your gruesome death would interest him the most, and as always, you stand corrected. Whatever sense of loyalty he had for the Tsaritsa (or anyone)has now been given over to you. All of it. So now, you have a very powerful, albeit sometimes a little possessive, devoted follower - him. A few vials he filled with your radiant golden blood while you were a bit light-headed, is a secret he will take to the grave, however, he does not plan on dying any time soon.

Since you can easily manage (manipulate) and keep some rowdier types calm, Pierro thanks you profusely for babysitting his immature colleagues. Which can happen very often. You reminisce about the past, usually accompanied by a hot tea. If either of you needs to get work done, and you happen to be within Snezhnaya, you always settle in his office and chat while having your dominant hand get cramps from all the signatures you both have to sign.

Another faithful little follower of yours is Sandrone, in a similar way to Dottore. She is just fascinated by all aspects of you. Asked you many, MANY times if you could inhabit the body of one of her Katheryne's. Or any other creation she has made. Or even herself? You protest, but accidentally say that possession is possible, it would be a somewhat painful and violating process for the receiver. Oh no, she is even more interested now! You have gotten yourself into quite a situation, how will you resolve it? In the name of science, will you do as she begs you to?

He tries to get access to all of those documents regarding archons, even Celestia, Pulcinella is just so very bothered that there is information he simply can't get his hands on. So he tries a tactic as old as time, a potential exchange of valuable knowledge of Teyvat that he has accumulated, hoping that maybe, someday you will share what the other nation's archons are planning.

When Scaramouche is not his usual bratty and bickering self, that means he must be accompanying you somewhere. Trying to be on his best behavior to not piss you off, you find it rather adorable. He, on the other hand, is a little cautious of you. You do remind him of someone rather unpleasant in his life. A proper and mostly ruthless ruler. You are not above acting on revenge. He has seen what that looks like. Once, an ordinary person was trying to impersonate you for some quick and easy mora. He saw sparks of fire dancing in your eyes. They still have burn marks.

You do find yourself in the presence of Pantalone rather often. Maybe because you picked up on some similarities between the two of you. He has those sky-high walls of protection, fake performances, compliments, and smiles. But it all crumbles into dust when he's alone with you. Freely speaking his mind, you realize how desperately alone all of the poor harbingers are. They sacrifice everything willingly for the Tsaritsa, but you still pity them a little. Plus, you find comfort in talking with most of them, it's a win-win type of situation.

La Signora, she is a force to be reckoned with, but so are you. She takes great satisfaction when you two walk somewhere and see the fear in the people's eyes. You do remind her that you have an image, a rather fake one to upkeep. And so, you banter with the Crimson Witch as if you were old friends, kind of feels like you already are. She has shown to be a reliable friend, and she's very easy to talk to, what's not to like? She had to do what she had to do, you reassure her that you would've burned the land of freedom into the ground if you heard your lover die on the battlefield.

If you happen to be in Natlan, Il Capitano will gladly take the time to teach you some self-defense or basic fighting skills. You do prefer to walk around the world, rather than use teleportation waypoints. There is always an agent accompanying you throughout Teyvat, Capitano was the first one to think of that. There is no ulterior motive behind practicing the art of battle, he just wants to make sure that even though you are a god, you would be harmed as little as possible. Unlike a certain ginger-haired harbinger.

Speaking of, Tartaglia takes pride in standing next to you, being your human shield, if the situation were to call for a fight. He loves the attention around you. And specifically your attention. You sparred with him exactly once, for good reason. You beat him, he was too... focused on his red blood on you, you pointing your spear at his throat while he's on the ground, the both of you being sweaty and very muddy. "Here I naively thought fighting you would be a challenge. Get up." - you let your weapon down gently onto the ground, giving him a hand. Your honest kindness in that situation has him smitten with you. He thought you would be merciful enough to kill him, right then and there - he really is like a puppy, trying to impress you with his latest tricks.

Oh, once you meet with Columbina, she is not letting you go until it is absolutely necessary, like having to travel into another nation for more debates and giving out directives to the archons to not cause another war. But sometimes even that doesn't stop her, sitting on your lap during one of those said meetings, the archons horrified, some intrigued, but all jealous. What they would do in that position. But you do pick favorites, you made that very clear. A very human trait of yours. To be fair, you are human, mostly.

You feel awkward around Arlecchino's orphanage at first, you never were good with children, remembering your own childhood. She would never worship any measly deity. But that soon changed when you spent an afternoon with her, chatting well into the evening. Whenever she has the time, she loves to show you around Snezhnaya. Walking next to each other, your hands collide. She starts stuttering and apologizing, while you laugh, she's really quite a character. She goes on about how anyone would get embarrassed if they made eye contact with you, let alone their hands would accidentally touch yours. You try your best to not tease her about it, but it has proven to be too difficult of a task.

[ohwhataniight]

The Good that won't Come Out - a trans!Sherlock fic - Part 1

So I started this WIP and have absolutely no patience about sharing it after it is completed. Please forgive my English, it is not my first language. For @gaylilsherlock who suggested the wound dressing trope. To be continued.

___________________________

"Girls, behave. Please."

I didn't think much of the way I'd just referred to a sulking Sherlock and an exasperated Lestrade, both of whom were leaning dangerously over the table in the Scotland Yard office, looking ready to punch each other in the face any minute now. Sherlock was being his usual self, showing off deductions that were only possible for me to follow, given that I live with him and, throughout the past couple of years, have become able to decode his tumultuous trains of thought. I assumed that the patience of my friend and colleague had run out and that he needed some quiet time in order to think this baffling case through, given that he raised the lapels of his coat and announced that he was heading home.

Anyway, I have a date tonight, so I don't really mind letting the case of the poisoned fashion designer go. I am more than fine with the turn of events, actually. I shoot Greg an apologetic look when Sherlock isn't looking and start buttoning my own jacket. I turn to Sherlock. “I won't be back till late. Go home, get some Thai, don't do anything reckless without me.”

He doesn't grace me with an answer to that, of course. “Give Vicky my warmest regards,” he says sarcastically instead, without really meeting my gaze. I decide to ignore his moods – I know better than provoking him when he's way too deep in a case he can't solve yet. I watch him turn around and leave the room with the tail of his impossibly long coat swishing dramatically behind him. I sigh, and follow suit to head to my date, for which I am already late.

*

It would have been fine if it only happened once, but apparently this is how John speaks, and for some reason it took my by surprise. Again. I should have seen this coming - this is how he really sees me, isn’t it? At least subconsciously - even subconsciously is bad enough. Why doesn’t he ever observe? I blame myself for letting my guard down. Of course, Captain John Watson, the epitome of traditional British masculinity and unchecked heterosexism would resort to such terms of endearment. And now here I am, recalling the words of my dearest brother: “You have let yourself be conquered by sentiment once again, Sherlock. You are entrusting a well-intentioned but vastly ignorant man with secrets you have been hiding ever so industriously throughout your life. I am observing you in sheer terror as you succumb to your miscalculations. How are you planning to proceed after John Watson discovers that you have so... diligently concealed the truth from him, after he reacts?”

Concealed. Truth. I snort. John knows the truth. He knows what he needs to know, he knows as much as he can stomach.

“He’ll have to know, at some point, being your doctor and all.”

“Oh shut up,” I hiss at mind palace-Mycroft, brushing away his rigid figure from my head with a wave of my hand. “John cannot know. He will never see me the same way again if he finds out.”

The night is chilly, my breath materializes before me in the form of smoke: dense, and woefully lacking of tar. I walk into the first corner shop and buy a pack, only to notice that my hands are shaking as I try to light the first cigarette, standing on the side of the pavement, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Pathetic. Look at you. Mycroft is right.

No. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing, and hiding, and pretending it’s all fine.

He accepts and admires the man he thinks you are. Just one misstep and you blow up an entire life you’ve built for yourself, a life you’ve fought so hard for. John learns, and everything goes

fucking

boom.

I have been letting someone in so dangerously close to the core of my being, and yet I still have to live life hanging from the threads of how he sees me, how he reads me, like a pitifully open book yet still stumbling between the lines, faltering when I become too visible, immuring me behind performances and words.

John Watson is failing you.

And how could he not?

(freak)

I shake my head, exasperated. I take in a deep drag of smoke and watch it crystallize in slow motion. The lights of the city that normally surround me with clarity now become blurry and melt around me, pool on my feet like fireflies in a swamp. Smoking doesn’t help. Nothing is helping. My ribs are constricting around what feels like a hole in my chest, pulling me down with the familiar weight that used to press around me like Symplegades before.

What if John Watson had met me before? Maybe then he could have returned my feelings. Maybe he could have loved me if I weren’t who I am.

After all, John Watson is not, will never be gay. And I will never be what he likes.

These thoughts make breathing a strenuous activity. I wish I could ever only inhale nicotine. Not oxygen, especially when it becomes so sparse, not his hot, sweet breath that confiscates mine every time he turns his head as he’s leaning over me to stare at the computer screen, not the odd whiff of salty sweat, not his light musk of earth that is damp that is sturdy -

And then, suddenly, bliss: a distraction. A man in a suede jacket who is up to no good, judging from the long fingernail on his left pinky and the obviously borrowed briefcase that contains information of life and death on his ex wife. I don’t need to intervene, I’m not Clark freaking Kent (see, John? I have some mundane references) but I need something to keep my mind and body occupied other than these dreaded musings on truth and identity and John Watson’s scent, ever present in my nostrils. So I follow him. And he notices. And he quickens his step. And I chase him. In an alley. Good, this is good. Keep that adrenaline pumping. He climbs over some railings. I follow suit. My heart is racing with the rapture of something remotely interesting, finally. My physical deftness has never betrayed me before, until it does. I feel the sharp stab of metal on my ribcage as the railing scratches my side, ripping my shirt underneath my coat, and I feel the warmth of blood spiling from a long scratch on my skin that climbs up to my chest like a vine of poison ivy.

(well, this is unfortunate)

[ghetsis]

they’re scoping out ghetsis’ hideout. Seems like the kid hasn’t given up on getting that funny bird back. At least they’re trying to act like they’re not being suspicious.

Plasma had a small outpost on each island to help monitor the goings on there and track the results of the various experiments they had conducted. The paradox had been taken to the one established on Ula'ula as Ghetsis knew Ree would get themself in trouble eventually and he wanted that to be far from his primary research station on Poni Island. The more of Skull's hooliganism that could be kept on Ula'ula, the better. At least until his research was complete and he could crush any troublemakers without worrying about the attention that would bring.

The outpost was mundane and inconspicuous aside from having far more activity than any single family home should ever see. And the fact that there always seemed to be at least one person loitering around the front door at any given moment with the current attendant having his eyes locked on Ree behind his dark sunglasses. He, too, seemed to be trying to keep a low profile if his neon green tank top, cargo shorts and Crocs were any indication, but the way he muttered while pressing something in his ear spoiled the casual look.

The call went to the Plasma Captain who promptly informed his Lord that Ree was snooping around. Ghetsis was almost disinterested in the report. It was all too expected. Just like Hugh and Bianca before him, just like every other bleeding heart trainer. Some were more determined and troublesome than others, as Ree certainly could be if Ghetsis didn't already have a plan to turn this little mishap with the Iron Bundle into a convenient distraction from his true agenda.

Ghetsis feigned a look of concern. "They've found the outpost already? No, no, that can't be! It's too soon! It's..." His voice trailed off.

"It's what, sir?"

Ghetsis was silent a moment, appearing to be deep in thought as he fussed with one of his wristbands, secretly activating a recorder. "I haven't told you what's so important about this pokemon, have I, Captain? Well, for the sake of the operation, I suppose it's time I let you in on the secret."

The Captain's eyes were wide as he hung on his leader's every word.

"This is no ordinary pokemon," Ghetsis explained. "It's a Paradox pokemon from the distant future of an even more distant universe. The technology it was created with has the potential to yield unimaginable power. With a few modifications, it could overpower even the most formidable legendary pokemon of this reality! With it, I could freeze the world over and finally achieve our goal of a future under Plasma's control!"

"That's... incredible," the Captain beamed. "But then, why not take it back to Unova and continue the work there?"

Ghetsis shook his head. "It's far too unstable to be transported safely. Until we can find a way to stabilize its temporal signature, it will have to remain here under close observation. The future of our mission depends on this research and so it's imperative that it is protected at all costs. Can I trust you to do that, Captain?"

The Plasma officer looked as if all the secrets of the universe had been revealed to him. He had no idea what a "temporal signature" was or why it needed stabilization, but Ghetsis said all of this with such confidence that it must be true. And to be entrusted with this information by Lord Ghetsis himself was the highest honor he could hope for! The Captain saluted. "I'll guard it with my life, sir!"

"Good," Ghetsis smiled. "Don't attack unless attacked first, but keep a close eye on our little snoop."

The Captian bowed before exiting and Ghetsis hit stop on the recording. He transfers the file to a flash drive and types a note to accompany it.

You need to hear this... Sorry this is weird, but I've been following Ghetsis for a while now. I saw what happened with that pokemon and it looks like he's planning something big with it. I've seen how strong you are and I know if anyone can rescue it, it's you. I'm sorry I can't tell you more about myself, but it would put me in too much danger. Just know I'm a friend and will help when I can. Good luck.

He stuffed the letter in an envelope with the flash drive. With the slightest gesture of his hand, the Shadow Triad was at his side. "Plant this somewhere in Shady House for that little street urchin to find."

The ninjas took the parcel and bowed before disappearing as quickly as they came.

Ghetsis smiled. Now, let's hope Ree falls for it as easily as his Captain did.

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Chapter 21 - The World of Dreams

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Stone ring icon)(1) In which this character drives me to the conspiracy board again and again (affectionate).

PERSPECTIVE: Egwene rushes down a corridor, still scrubbing her hands with a towel after completing her punishment chores for the moment. She finds Verin's room, as she was quietly summoned, and is fascinated by all the books, scrolls, junk, and curios. An owl she took for stuffed blinks at her and Verin explains that he keeps mice from chewing up the papers.(2) Verin is studying a scrap of a book that’s otherwise lost to history, about Ba’alzamon being cloaked in layers of names, Ishamael betraying hope, truth burning, hope failing in light of the truth, and a lie being a shield. It ends abruptly, and Verin asks Egg what she thinks of it. Egg says she doesn’t know, but she doesn’t like the sound of it. Verin says she’s been studying it forty years and doesn’t know what to make of it either.(3)

In her stacks, Verin finds a bundle of papers that comprise everything known about the thirteen who left, what they know about the ter'angreal that were taken. Egg wonders if Verin might have left something out, then decides she's silly to mistrust the woman after traveling with her all the way back to Tar Valon.(4)

Verin asks about Egwene possibly being a Dreamer, saying the last one was 473 years ago and barely deserved the title. Egwene says her dreams haven't foretold any futures yet, but Verin says that's the least part of what a Dreamer does. There are many worlds, some can be reached through the Portal Stones, some through other means, but the important thing is that there is one Creator, for all the worlds, and one Dark One, who also exists in all worlds at once. So long as the Dark One remains imprisoned in one world, he is so in all worlds. If he is freed from his prison in one world, he is freed in all of them.(5) Egg doesn't understand, and Verin says the Dark One is the embodiment of paradox and chaos.

Egg asks what this has to do with Dreaming, and Verin says nothing, except that they all must face the Dark One in their own way, and the Pattern didn't bring Rand al'Thor into the world for no purpose.(6) The Dark One will try to distort the pattern where he can. Egg says, well if this has nothing to do with it, why are you telling me?

Verin looks at her like she's deliberately dancing around understanding the point. There's another world that's adjacent to all the worlds at once, called Tel'aran'rhiod in the Old Tongue, which translates as something like the World of Dreams. Many people glimpse it in their dreams, even if they can't channel. But a Dreamer, a true Dreamer, can enter the TAR.

Egg says she doesn't think she's a dreamer, but she'll find out eventually anyway, right? Verin says she has no time to wait. The Amyrlin has entrusted her with a great task, and she must use any tool she has to hand. Verin takes a box out from under a stack on her table, and from it extracts a twisted stone ring, with flecks of many colours, too large to fit on a finger. The ring looks like stone, but is heavy and hard. It's twisted so that if you follow the line with a finger, it will come back to itself.

Verin says the ring was in the possession of the last Dreamer for most of her life, and it's Egwene's now. It eases the passage to TAR, for those who touch it when they sleep. TAR is dangerous, though. What happens there is real, and will follow you into the real world. Verin shows a scar on her arm from when she tried the ring herself, and no Healing would get rid of the mark. She tells Egg that no novice, not even an Accepted, is supposed to have such a thing to keep, so she must keep it secret and safe, then dismisses her.(7)

PERSPECTIVE: Verin, who waits until Egg is well gone before opening the box again. It contains all of the last Dreamer's notes, from fifty years of studying the stone ring. Verin only happened upon the notes by chance, the woman who wrote them had managed to erase the stone ring from all other record in the Tower.

She contemplates burning them, or giving them to Egg, but decides that what will happen will happen regardless of her interference.(8)

=====

(1) The very one Verin gives Egwene, of course. So, just as the ter'angreal is, this icon is linked to the world of dreams, which I will often be referring to as TAR instead of trying to type out or keep in my clipboard that very long very twisty word. Two apostrophes in a fantasy word is TOO MANY! (Real life languages get a pass, RJ could've made up a less annoying one.) (2) For sure, you'd want cats or owls or something to keep the pests down. Probably also encourage spiders to keep the bugs at a minimum, if you're going real old school. Though, you'd think that magic wards could be used as well. (3) What do you make of it? We've established that Ballsy is Ishy, at least. What about the rest of it? How much of the world is using lies as shields against uncomfortable truths? What does that have to do with Ishy? (4) Do you trust Verin? How did she know to share all this with Egwene? She doesn't mention that Siuan told her to share the list. She's just… giving it to Egwene, to do with as she will. (5) Well, that's a very interesting way to confirm that the Dragon has never fallen to the Shadow and let the Dark One win… if it's true. How do you think she's so confident? Is that confidence misplaced? How do they know what they know, except from fragments of an age long past where they were still human, still fallible? Is RJ just invoking paradox to obfuscate or is he on to something? (6) Rand isn't alive, here and now, for no reason, and neither are his friends. The lads might be the only confirmed ta'veren, but if Egwene and Nynaeve weren't also important to the story, would we be getting their perspectives? If they didn't have a part to play, they wouldn't be here either. Verin's seeing the big picture. (7) SO! The stone ring is a ter'angreal, and it lets you touch the actual, physical world of dreams. Hmm, where have we seen people getting into real trouble, bringing back physical wounds when they were dreaming… Yeah, Ishy was definitely dragging the superboys into TAR for their weird dream sessions. And it seems Perrin and the wolves may have a separate connection to it directly, given his recent events (8) Whomst amongst us doesn't have a big of a soft spot for chaos gremlins archetypes? But… We know Verin has lied. Can we trust her motivations here? Why wouldn't she share the notes if they might help? Does she have reason to think the notes might affect Egwene's potential, the way learning that nobody has ever done a thing can inhibit a child from trying to accomplish it anyway? Or is it malicious? She drives the fandom WILD and this is the merest hint of why. Hopefully, if you've seen her brought up in conversations about the series, you now have a vague idea of why we all adore the story weaving around her. There's so much to think and talk about.

[svcrecy]

[ @clickonmedotexe: fuck it i dont know max but i wanna know him ]

❝ You... want to know me? ❞

MAX-ERNEST SEEMED SO STUNNED AT THIS FACT THAT HE DIDN'T EVEN OBJECT TO BEING CALLED MAX.

( It. . . wasn't often that happened. Then again, it wasn't often people came out with statements like this, either. )

❝ I mean-- yeah! Wow. Cool.

Actually, not cool. Not not cool, as in, I hate that, because I don't, obviously- I mean, who would hate compliments? Unless they really didn't feel good about themselves or they thought you were lying or something- but not cool as in I'm using that word wrong. I think. I mean, I still don't even know HOW you can use a word wrong- unless you're using it incorrectly, I guess- like saying stationery instead of stationary- but I don't think it's like that? Why do we even use the word cool? We don't mean it's actually cool, as in- getting compliments doesn't earn shivering from anyone- so why cool? Why not another temperature? Can't I say that compliments are lukewarm or smoldering or a little above average- or maybe it's weather that it's tied to. As in, ❝ how's the weather today, Max-Ernest? ❞ ❝ Oh, it's really cool out ❞ - then, that's a measure of weather as much as it is temperature, because while it's still the temperature, obviously, it's kind of also the weather, because you can say that in response to someone asking the weather and they'll be like ❝ oh, okay. ❞ and so if that's an acceptable answer, then it must be a measure of weather too, right? So can you use other measures of weather? What about windy? Can you say something's windy if it is being affected by wind, I mean? I don't think you can-- ❞

It was beginning to become apparent why nobody wanted to know him.

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

[rayofsunas]

s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

[thehollowprince]

I got say as someone familar with Professor X from X-Men Evolution and the Films, it pretty damn disturbing seeing the type assholery and outright villainous behavior from Comic! Charles Xavier.

Yeah...

As a comic fan, it's always so interesting to talk to people who've only watche the movies or shows, because when you try to tell them that "Charles Xavier is a jerk!", they look at you weird.

I get it (to an extent). When these people hear Charles Xavier, they picture Patrick Stewart, and it's impossible to dislike that man, but as a comic fan, it's disheartening when people who have never read the comics tell you that they understand a character better than you do.

Understand, I'm not talking about you, that's more of a general statement. Especially with the MCU on the rise and fans saying things like "Well, in the movies...", only for them to pretend they can't understand you the moment you point out what happened in the comics... that the movies are supposed to be based on.

I know you didn'task for this, but just for shits and giggles, here's a list of reasons why Charles Xavier is a Jerk.

1. The X-Men

Let's start with the obvious.

Dude took the children that were in his care, that either went to him or were entrusted to him, to help them with their mutant gits, and instead he trained them to be child soldiers. I know there are plenty of other things to criticize him for, but this one is often overlooked.

2. Memories

Charlie boy has a nasty habit of screwing with the memories of those around him if they disagree with him... or they find out one of his secrets... or he screws up... or just because he feels like it.

Scott has been the victim of Xavier's rewrites multiple times, the biggest example of which being when he erased Scott's memories of not only the entire X-Men team that was either killed or lost during their attempted rescue of the original X-Men on the first Krakoa, but he erased the memory of Scott having another brother, who was on said team.

Said younger brother (Gabriel) went on to become the dictator of the Shi'ar Empire. Now, I'm not saying that him erasing Gabriel from Scott's mind directly led to that outcome, but I'm also not saying that either. Whose to say what would have happened if Scott had managed to be there for his brother.

He's also done this extensively with Logan, even going so far as to "persuade" him to join the X-Men when he was originally there to kill the professor.

3. Jean Grey

Oh, boy.

Did y'all know that Chuck was in love with Jean while she was a teenager and he was in (at the very least) his forties? Yeah. And that's not even getting into the fact that he trained her as a child, which means he knew her since she was ten.

And speaking of Jean as a child, when he first met her, he sensed her power and added mental blocks to keep her "contained". Putting aside the whole invasion of a child's mind for a second, I would like to point out how these blocks directly led to Jean's Dark Phoenix phase. Y'know, the time she destroyed entire star systems.

4. Danger

We all remember the Danger Room, right?

That room with the holographic simulations that the X-Men used in their training to become child soldiers?

Did you know the Danger Room was sentient?

No?

Charles knew.

He knew and kept it a secret, until he couldn't anymore, because Danger broke free of his controls and set about trying to get rid of the X-Men.

Probably another reason he is so against A.I. on Krakoa.

Speaking of which...

5. Krakoa

If you're not following the current era of the X-Men, beware, because here there be SPOILERS.

So, mutandom finally has their own Island Country (again) and there are some rules for that island.

Make More Mutants

Kill No Man

Respect the Sacred Land

Those three vaguely-worded and broad statements dictate life on Krakoa, and if you break them, you get sentenced to the pit, where you can't move or do anything, but you're conscious and aware of the world going on around you.

One of the first things Chuck did was say "there will be no prisons on Krakoa" and the very first thing he does, is sentence Sabertooth to mutant prison for breaking laws that weren't even written yet. And not just Sabertooth, but others as well.

If you're not reading Victor LaValle's SABERTOOTH, I do highly recommend it. In the latest issue, we get specifics on how/why five other mutants were sentenced to the pit.

Madison Jeffries is a technopath who was trying to create a space on Krakoa foe Danger, the sentient A.I. I mentioned above, because he was in love with her (don't look at me like that. This is Marvel and that isn't even remotely the weirdest relationship). He was accused of violating Krakoa and sent to rot in the Pit.

Melter was also sentenced to the Pit for not "respecting" Krakoa, because he wanted to take a more active role in his new country. He's one of those who believe in Xavier absolutely and wanted to help, only to be cast into Mutant hell.

Nekra and Oya were both sentenced for breaking the second law, killing pirates that were attacking Krakoa. They were protecting their home, but because it didn't have Xavier's stamp of approval, or because they weren't X-Force, they were cast aside.

Third Eye was sentenced to mutant jail for making the mutants of Krakoa feel guilty. I kid you not. He "violated" the first law by telling the mutants of Krakoa that maybe having kids (per the first law) and then just tossing them aside afterwards might not be the best thing for either the children or their image as a country. As such, he was convicted by the council and thrown into the Pit.

Yes, these weren't just Charles alone, but seeing as how he is often presented as the head of the council, it's only fair to lay these at his feet.

And his hypocrisy on the island doesn't stop there.

In the most recent issue of IMMORTAL X-MEN he tried to get Mystique kicked off the Quiet Council because she went behind the Council's back to resurrect her wife (something promised to her by Xavier and Magneto, even though they had no intention of delivering on that promise), at a meeting where his secret dealings with Moira MacTaggert to create Krakoa and all his fuck-ups were being presented to Hope, the newest member of the QC.

His hypocrisy knows no bounds.

And this isn't even a complete list. This is just the stuff that I thought of off the top of my head.

So always remember

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Buddie Moodboard - Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU

Hi, it's me. Again. With weird shit. As per usual. From the get-go, I cannot really imagine a scenario wherein the two would honestly try to hurt each other, let alone try to kill each other. But... the two being snarky assassins, failing at couple's therapy was too much a temptation for me to resist. Cheers!

Eddie and Buck are, by all accounts, the perfect couple. They have a beautiful house in a quaint neighborhood in Los Angeles, both have well-paid jobs, raise Eddie's son Christopher together in the most loving way, and are a delight at every dinner party.

Yet, first cracks start to appear in that otherwise perfect exterior. It's the little things, like who pulls into the parking lot first or whose turn it is to take out the trash. Or who gets to pick out the curtains... Whether to pursue couple's therapy... Or whether both are actually still committed to this life... the usual.

And of course, there is this one, tiny complication in it all:

Buck works for a secret agency as a spy - and so does Eddie.

The thing, though? Neither one knows about his husband's respective occupation.

As far as Eddie is concerned, Buck works in construction, a big-time contractor. And to Buck's knowledge, Eddie is the man to call when a server goes down in the big banks of L.A. Like Batman for computers.

Things take a sudden turn when the two are assigned the same target, forcing Eddie into the painful realization that he entrusted his son, his entire universe, into the hands of a spy of the opposite team, failing his son all over again. And Buck has to come to grips with it that Bobby was right all along. That he's repeating things as he did with Abby when she disappeared without him, leaving him stuck at the agency when everyone else moved on with their lives.

Thankfully, Christopher is away for summer camp, so the two have enough time and space to settle their little marital disagreements.

And so, after a very awkward dinner, confrontation seems inevitable, which marks the end of not just some freshly bought curtains but also half the house.

Things culminate with both having each other at gunpoint. To Eddie's shock, Buck eventually lowers his weapon, unable to shoot him. Since he knows by now that Eddie didn't use the boy as a cover story but that this is indeed his son whom he'll protect no matter what, Buck sees no other way out.

He can't shoot Christopher's father.

He can't kill his husband, even if all of it was just a great pretending.

And as it turns out, Eddie can't do it either.

While this still leaves their house and their marriage in shambles, said house soon becomes a battlefield of another kind. The bliss of their reconciliation and first attempts of getting to know who they married is short-lived, however.

When their house blows up, Buck and Eddie know one thing for certain: Their agencies have abandoned them and are now considering them a threat that needs to be taken care of.

The two seek out Bobby, who, it turns out, is an ex-spy (like Hen and Chim and Maddie... and Carla, a fact that Eddie still has to take in). He lets them know that, as things currently stand, they have next to zero chances if they stick together. Unless they find something that their agencies want more than they want to have them out of the way.

Since both work for covert government agencies, Buck and Eddie come to the conclusion that the only thing their agencies would want more than them is for their agencies to stay, well, covert. Their mutual target, who'd obtained important intel, including lists of the higher-ups, seems like their best shot.

So Buck and Eddie, with a bit of aid from the 118 (the fire station Bobby "founded" for the sole purpose of keeping the family together after everyone safe for Buck dropped out... as a security net), pursue their last target. Together.

After a few bumps in the road, the two start to find their sync. Though Buck knows he'll never hear the end of it that he didn't bring his parents to their wedding, or that his name's actually Evan. And Eddie knows the last words are not yet spoken about the things in his past Eddie lied about, which isn't exactly few in number.

Though it turns out they underestimated the trouble they found themselves in. When Buck and Eddie have their target tied to a chair for interrogation, the little bastard reveals that he was a mere decoy. Their agencies found out about their marriage and came to the mutual agreement to let them take out each other. The guy has no data they can use for a bargain.

In sum, they are fucked.

Somewhere down in the sewers after their agencies infiltrated the hotel they'd held the target at, Buck and Eddie are overdue some real talk. Because their plan to stick together failed. Now what?

The only shot they'd have would be to head into the lion's den and obtain the data on their own. But that's a death sentence, that much is for sure.

Eddie is not at all surprised and not at all pleased that Buck offers to go in on his own, to give Eddie and Christopher at least the tiniest bit of a chance to live. After all, he promised, on their wedding day. Eddie isn't having it, though. Their marriage may be a scam, but the feelings are real. And Christopher needs them both to come home. So they are bound together. End of story.

“After all, we both once said till death do part us, right?”

And so, the two ready themselves for their last stand against their agencies, hoping to somehow dodge the bullet and find a way back home...

Find more moodboards here.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen [chapt. 7]

[Donnie x reader]

chapter 6 here

"Nothing gets past me, especially not you and your nervous habits, Donatello," Splinter's voice bounced around Donnie's head. 

The brothers all looked at each other incredulously, Donnie's anxiousness replaced by complete bafflement. Everyone was wondering the same thing: How did he know?

"You wonder how I knew," Splinter said pointedly, "as if you four are any good at keeping a secret."

They waited for him to go on, but instead there was another uncomfortable pause, Splinter assumedly expecting them to say something. It was Mikey who finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna, like...tell us what we did wrong? How you knew? So next you can't—"

Splinter scoffed and brought his staff down on the youngest's foot. Mikey yelped, bouncing away on one leg. "Teach you how to lie? I have taught you many skills, but one that will always elude you is how to keep something from me. Parents have a sixth sense, you know." He turned to Donnie, regarding the rest of them with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You three, to your rooms. Come to the dojo with me, Donatello." 

The three were quick to scatter, Mikey whining into Raph's ear about being sent to their rooms so early, and Raph huffing that he'd been dragged in too. 

Swallowing, Donnie followed behind him a few paces, not sure what to expect but nervous all the same. He was lead in and instructed to sit down on the floor, Splinter settling down in front of him. Donnie's fingers brushed along the ridges of the knuckles of his other hand again and again as he tried to find something to occupy them with. 

Resting his palms in his hands, Splinter began to talk, voice less harsh than Donnie had anticipated. "I know that we lead a very isolated life, my son. But you must keep your priorities in perspective. You four need each other, and betraying one another's trust does not help that case."

"I'm sorry, Master Splinter," Donnie apologized and hung his head. 

"Perhaps you should apologize to your brothers, just as they should to you." 

I did put them on the spot, especially Leo, thought Donnie, considering now that he had put him and Raph in a weird position. They had to choose between ratting on him to Splinter and keeping it under wraps for the sake of not stirring up the pot needlessly. As much as Leo was a stickler for the rules, he didn't want to create dissension between him and Donnie. So, they chose the latter option, and now all four were in trouble with their father. 

"Okay. I guess...but, Master Splinter, how did you know?" 

"About your secret antics?" 

Donnie let out a humorless chortle, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that he had actually thought at some point, he was getting away with anything. "Yeah, it...it wasn't very much of a secret."

Stroking his chin, Splinter plainly said, "It was only a suspicion, until you confirmed it."

That night a few weeks ago when Splinter came to him in his lab. The way he squeaked when he was confronted just prior to them going to talk alone. Why didn't I think of that? It was a classic trick, one their father had deployed quite a few times on them. He'd been baited into giving himself away. None of them could tell when he was bluffing or if he actually knew. Save for Leo, who managed only twice in their time to make heads or tails of it. 

"I really walked right into that one," Donnie whimpered under his breath, palms pressing down on his knees. 

"You did. But," his tone turned more serious, looking him dead in the eye, "you must fix your mistakes, son." 

 "How?" asked Donnie softly, searching for his father's guidance, but it would find no purchase. He was hard pressed to find a solution immediately. 

Splinter shut his eyes and thought. It was a tricky situation, indeed. He gathered that if anything, this was an excellent lesson for Donnie, as well as the others. Under his own supervision, of course; there wasn't room for any more blundering. 

Standing up, he placed his staff under his hand. "I trust that you will find a way. You have a brilliant mind, Donatello. Use it well," he told him, and went to leave the training room. 

Donnie was still sat on the floor contemplating Splinter's words, honored yet uneasy at the same time that he was being entrusted to fix things. How, he didn't know. Truly. He was at war with himself trying to balance his logic with his emotions, trying to make the two meet gracefully, but it felt impossible. Whichever road he chose, it was a betrayal to the other. One left behind while the other took the wheel. And thoughtlessly, he blurted out, "What if your heart is telling you something completely different, Sensei? What if everything feels contradictory, and—and like there's no right answer, even though you do have this mind, you just can't seem to…" 

Donnie's voice tapered. Slightly surprised, Splinter stopped in his tracks, brows high as he looked back at him, who was so clearly riddled with a deeper kind of conflict. Critically discouraged, but still the sliver of will in those eyes of his. His heart went out to him. 

Splinter had known that Donnie was interacting with a human. What he hadn't known was that he was in love with the human. 

There was a moment of understanding, and Splinter realized that Donnie could not do this on his own. It reminded him of the times the turtles had all been children, the way Donnie looked to him for wisdom as he grappled with himself. Sighing, Splinter sat back down, this time close to him. Donnie was despondent, reverting to staring at the edge of the mat he sat on. "I know your struggles, my son. It seems like there's a sacrifice no matter what you choose, does it not?" 

"I don't want to let you guys down. But, I...you know, I'm sorry, Master Splinter, but you don't understand." 

He didn't want to say bluntly that he wanted to think of himself and his needs, unlike usual. He knew Splinter would probably not approve of that. None of them had much of a chance to make a selfish decision, aside from everyday things such tucking into the pizza before it even made it back to the Lair. So far, the number of times he could recall making a consequential choice for the sole purpose of indulging himself, was an astounding zero. 

"What makes you think I would not understand?" questioned Splinter, and Donnie regretted that he'd said it. He didn't miss how Donnie looked to be becoming mildly sour (among other things), though not at him specifically.

It was then Donnie clammed up, shut down the conversation, he was not going to say it. "It" being what he assumed Splinter wasn't privy to, that he had undoubtedly fallen hard for his friend. But knowing his father, he could totally have had a clue. Splinter didn't always need the details to make an assessment when it came to his sons, whom he knew all too well.

Letting out a crestfallen huff, Donnie rested his chin on his knee, arm obstructing the better half of his face. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled. 

Splinter stayed quiet. He didn't want to drive Donnie off—not when he was in such a turmoil. The atmosphere changed to a cold one. Donnie didn't acknowledge him until he put his hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and saying, "I will tell you again: I trust that you will figure it out." 

What if I make the wrong decision? 

"For all of our sakes, I hope you're right, Sensei," Donnie responded. Splinter smiled and got up, prepared to leave the matter at that until any further updates. Until the phone in Donnie's back pocket began to vibrate out of the blue. He wanted to answer, but what, at that point? What should he say? 

A minute went by of more persistent vibrating, and Splinter's ear twitched, certain he knew who it was. He was disappointed with the carelessness that had brought them to that moment, but what was done was done. None knew if the girl had any suspicions. "Are you going to answer it?" he asked, sort of prompting him to pick the phone up. 

"May I?" Donnie thought he might have sounded a little eager.

Splinter let out a calm hum and motioned for him to do it. Donnie lifted his finger to press accept, but Splinter interrupted firmly, "Speaker, Donatello."

Eyes flitting to Splinter, he accepted the call and reluctantly turned on the speaker. 

"Bo, what was all of that earlier, dude? You had me worried sick!" spoke [y/n], more concerned than angry (which Donnie was somewhat relieved about), but he sunk down sheepishly upon seeing the look on his father's face. He gave Donnie a questionable glance at the word "Bo", as he wasn't aware of the details. Donnie wasn't about to correct her right now. 

"I–...hey, [y/n]," he said, forcing himself to turn to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Splinter. The eyes on him made him feel put off to the point he couldn't focus on her voice, but the fact that Splinter was right there, listening in, and both were fixing to find out just what kind of mess they had on their hands. "Believe me when I tell you, you don't want to get caught up in this," he told her, "I can't—"

"Listen," she started, exasperated, "I've heard it before. 'I can't tell you this', and 'I can't tell you that'," she went on, "Be honest with me, Bo; is it that you can't or you just won't?"  

Splinter's thoughts were undetermined. Donnie couldn't read anything from his stoic expression. 

"It's not that I won't," he rebutted, pitch going up involuntarily, "Why won't you listen to me when I say I can't?" 

"Because there's something going on, with you, and I know my eyes weren't just playing tricks on me. I saw something crazy—I heard it, too, when I called you the other day!" 

I am so dead. Donnie's stomach did a flip. He couldn't face his father, but behind him, Splinter placed his hand on his face, covering his eyes. He shot Donnie an intimidating glance, and Donnie waved his hands nervously, listening to her go on as he backed up. Pivoting around from the jabs sent to his side by Splinter's staff, he jumped away with his comically long stride, trying to avoid the onslaught while juggling the phone. He muffled a grunf of pain when the cane managed to whack his head. 

"Hold on!" he said, and Splinter stopped and narrowed his eyes, the voice on the other end of the phone also going silent. Donnie couldn't regain his composure while being chased around the dojo, so he finally was able to sputter out, "W-what did you see?" 

"I was on the balcony, 'Don'. I heard your voice on the phone and saying the same thing from the roof, and saw two giant...turtles! With weapons, fighting what looked like ninjas?! What even is this?" she yelled. 

She'd put two and two together. There was no fixing. 

Only acceptance. 

Blinking, Donnie nearly dropped the phone. Splinter shut his eyes, slowly shook his head, and turned around. The sound of his cane tapping the floor as he walked was the only thing he could hear after he tuned out the speaker. 

He was now alone in the dojo, under the light that streamed through the grate above him, standing in the hush. 

He turned the speaker off. She, on the other end, was quiet, too, in disbelief. And probably rightfully feeling betrayed, in a way, Donnie thought. The friend she'd come to care for so much turned out to be someone she couldn't have even imagined. 

Licking his lips, he put on the most level tone he could and said in a struggle, "You can't tell anyone. I-if you say something, I'll... we'll…"

I could never threaten you, [y/n]. 

"You'll what?" she asked, voice low.

Then, all the could hear was her breathing. The dojo was completely quiet, the room was large, and there he was, in the middle. Donnie liked smaller spaces. Darker spaces, like his lab. He felt exposed in that moment, even when no one could see him.

"Be in danger," he said in earnest.

There was some rustling, then the sound of wind on her end. He barely heard a sliding door shut.

"Come here," she told him firmly. 

His eyes went wide. "What?" he questioned, stupefied.

She sighed, "No more lying, Bo—Don—I don't know. If what we have really matters to you…"

A mix of emotions swirled in him as he waited for her words. She hesitated.

"I'll come," he whispered, finishing her sentence. 

"You'll come." 

Blowing a breath out from between his lips, and nodded. Sorry, Master Splinter. 

He snuck through the Lair to the exit of the sewers.

[stardomthenightwing]

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful for my family of course like everyone always says, but that's just what you start off with when you are born into this world. I have grown stronger and smarter and have found many other things in this world to be thankful for. Here's a list, and I recommend you read through it:

1. I'm thankful for the person reading this. Even though I'm a total stranger on the internet, you take time out of your day to hear me talk about crap I like.

2. I'm grateful to my followers for supporting me. I didn't have you all last Thanksgiving because you are all something new to me which makes it that much more special. I wouldn't be here without you all, so thanks for giving me a chance. Remember that by following someone, you entrust power to that person; choose wisely the next time you allow someone the power to control others.

3. I'm thankful for Wings of Fire even though it may be very badly written at times. There are things we wish we could see and things we wish never happened in the series, but that doesn't change the fact that someone worked really hard to bring us the series. The graphic novels, no matter how bad they may be to you, were still worked on and took much time to make; the same goes for the tv show in development and the books. I love Wings of Fire, and I appreciate that I was lucky enough to find a goodish dragon book series with no dragon riders and stupid medieval stuff. I'm thankful for you, Tui T. Sutherland!

4. Even though The Owl House was canceled, I'm still thankful for the great memories I made watching it and the joy it brought me. There's still a season 3 planned, so I'm grateful that we even get more Owl House content. I love the themes in that show and the lessons you learn from it. Dana Terrace is an amazing person, and I hope you get a chance to watch The Owl House if you haven't already. It got lesbians, so watch it, please!

5. I'm thankful that Deltarune Chapter 2 came out so unexpectedly this year. I thought I would have to wait 999 years to see more of Toby Fox's intelligent wonders, but I guess I don't. Deltarune is an amazing game, and I love its humor and realistic concepts so much! It is such a smartly made game, and I can't imagine how much work Toby and his crew put into it. I cannot wait for more Deltarune content!

6. I'm thankful for the amazing games Earthbound and Mother 3. Even though you may have never heard of them, they are the best games I have ever played in my life, and they shaped me into the person I am today. Shigesato Itoi is amazing, and I know exactly why he chooses to keep his games so secret. I am so lucky to even be smart enough to emulate these two games, and I am so grateful that games like these can even exist! If you ever get a chance in your life to play either of these games, I ask you with all of my heart that you try to complete them. We don't deserve to have these games in our world because they aren't just ahead of their time, they are a whole generation ahead of our species. Thank you to the Mother team!

7. There are many other things I could say, but I feel like the most important thing these pieces of content have taught me, I find it every single one, is those daunting situations you have. No matter who you are in this world, there is always going to be a much harder life out there that you are fortunate enough not to have. I am thankful to live in America and not financially suffer like Spamton, I am thankful to have a loving family and not have lost them like Lucas, I am thankful to not have a galactic space authority that's out to kill me like Steven and the diamonds in his funky universe, I am thankful to not be aware of the truth of the spacetime continuum like Sans' poor, tortured soul, I am thankful to not be misjudged for my innocent past like Darkstalker in Wings of Fire; I am thankful to have such an easy life compared to others, and I hope you can find a reason to be content with your living conditions too someday if not already.

One more heads-up, even if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, I'm going to go around and ask the people I follow what they are thankful for because it's always good to recognize the things we might not have in other timelines.

[just-like-playing-tag]

A Letter from Norman reactions

Tonight I was feeling like reorganizing the notes I took after reading the novel for the first time. Just some random personal reactions I had after reading it; if anything catches your attention and you'd like to know more about a particular event from the novel, please feel free to ask and I'll be happy to help!!!

Under the cut because it's l o n g. That is, if Tumblr allows me to add a "read more", which has never happened before, but I'll keep hoping in it.

• Disclaimer: I'm suing anyone who ever said that the novel is all about NorEmma. I've literally put off reading it because I didn't want to get into something overly romantic while there's??? Nearly nothing about it that is romantic??????? Just a slight mention in that last chapter and that's it???????? Why are y'all like this

Prologue

• I need you all to know that the important letter™ through which Norman informed Emma about his plan starts with him describing the weather. I just think it's a relevant information.

• Ok I'm at freaking page 1 of “A letter from Norman” and. NORMAN IT'S A FREAKING LETTER TO EMMA NOT A SHAKESPEAREAN PLAY THERE'S LITERALLY NO REASON TO BE THIS POETIC

Maybe, I would get it if it was directed to Ray, but to Emma?????

Chapter 1

• Emma in 2038: Let's befriend ghosts

Emma in 2047: let's befriend demons

Seems like a logic consecution to me

• Ok but why has nobody ever mentioned the extremely precious Emma / Gilda moments in the novel???? My heart was completely melting that was the most adorable thing I've ever read??????

• The way Norman is constantly in awe of Ray is so adorable... Baby is so sweet I swear, he deserves the world

Chapter 2

• OK BUT THE SWEET EXCHANGE between Ray and Isabella before him and Emma go out at night?????? Ray is so pure is swear... He's a precious baby who didn't deserve all the shit he went through.

Reporting it in case anyone's curious; for context, Norman is sick, and Emma wants to go out look for a flower that she's read is going to help him feel better. Emma and Ray are convinced that Norman is going to die because babies are just that dramatic, and easily impressionable as well. They're seven here.

“ «Ray, I'm counting on you!»

Isabella pressed an hand on the boy's shoulder, who turned his face to her and diligently nodded, before continuing: «Differently from Emma, I don't think the flower is going to help Norman heal».

«What do you mean?»

«However, it's better than having to sit back and watch without doing anything. I too, like her, want him to heal as soon as possible.»

«Sure, I understand...» ”

NOW that hits so hard. You have to understand, this is after Ray had made the deal with Isabella. He had already started to plan the escape. In this occasion, he was on a very thin line: alone at night with Emma, outside the House, a child who knew the truth. Isabella knew those were the right conditions for him to attempt an escape, so she decided to test his loyalty; one misstep, and their deal - which was fundamental for the escape Ray was planning - would have ended.

But at the same time, Ray needed to go. Because, just like Emma, he just couldn't stand to lose Norman. And to see these three children caring so deeply about each other even at such a young age makes me honestly bawl. This is quite certainly my favorite thing from this series. And Ray deserves the world.

• Ray was so determined to save his two friends, he even considered for a moment, in the woods, to tell Emma the truth about the orphanage. I find it very nice how the novel hinted of all these times Ray almost revealed the truth, it really puts emphasis on how he was trying to find the best moment for the escape- but it also hints to how desperate he was to share this grievous burden he was forced to carry for the longest time.

• “ Ray, you must keep on living, Norman whispered to himself like a prayer. ”

I'm... I'M 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Doesn't help the fact that this bit was literally at the end of pages of Norman praising Ray and how brave he had been for so long.

• “ Nobody in the House would have wanted for Ray to pay with his life to amend the silence of all those years. ”

I love this bit. Nobody between the children ever hated Ray for speechlessly assisting to dozens of his siblings being lead to death, because they all immediately understood how much he was suffering, how powerless he must had felt, and also, even though it only led to him being even more hurt, how deeply he loved them all. It's really nice to realize that no children ever hated Ray- no one besides from himself. His siblings love him unconditionally, and that's precisely what he deserves 🤧🤧💕💕💕

• Norman: *adventures in a detailed description of Ray's features and gestures for no other apparent reason than the fact that he finds him pretty*

Chapter 3

• Ok I know people use to see Ray and Susan's interactions under the light of Ray having a crush on her but honestly? I think they make the cutest brotp. I never knew how much I needed Ray-having-an-older-sister content untill now.

• For real though!! What hits you really hard is to find out, even though he would had never ever showed it, how desperate he was to have somebody care about him, and to be loved. He literally grieves for losing someone that looks after him and is there to check on him in his lowest days- we know it's the thing Isabella never gave him. Man, this boy didn't deserve all the shit that happened to him. Tpn may have become an old known story for me, but Ray's sufferings in his early age will never stop tearing my heart apart.

• Ok, I wasn't ready for all this angst on Ray's part. I mean, I obviously know GF were hard times for him, but I didn't expect for him to take over the pov. Sis, how wrong I was. Now I'm crying.

• Coming to the realization that Ray's initial plan actually was to bring everyone in the escape, but he clearly had to give up on it after having realized it would have been impossible to save them 🥺🥺🥺

(I mean it was not impossible. He believed it was. But it wasn't.)

• Ok but. The last part of the Ner chapter. I really don't want to spoil it for anyone because it really was a beautiful chapter but I really need to say: Emma and Norman. The way it wasn't just Ray always being there for them, protecting them from afar; no matter their blissful ignorance, they have always been there for him too. They never abandoned that lonely boy, and they made it so that he could have a last reason not to give up. A single, dim light of hope in that pitch black, devastating world he was born in. I may or may not be crying my eyes out.

(Btw I had written this before the Ray special chapter came out, and it's kinda funny to look back at it now)

• The thing with the Ner chapter is: you enter in it after reading two chapters of normal, wholesome children's stories. There's a dark undertune in it, but it's very subtle and it doesn't interfere with the happy, cheerful atmosphere of these children facing adventures together with each other. But then the Ner chapter strikes, and the Ray pov arrives, and it's like being beaten with a bat in the stomach several times. Deep down, you had always known it; but you suddenly realize that all these children are going to die. And, even worse, there's one child who knows. There's one child who has to assist to everything powerlessly. There's one child, one freaking-nine-years-old who knows that all his siblings are going to die, and there's nothing he can do. That a single mistake could ruin the chances of making just two of his siblings survive, which is everything he's hanging to right now. One child who only needs to be loved. Well that... That hits hard.

Me expressing my thoughts: girl this form is shit you can't write something that is understandable to save your life can you

• Also can we please appreciate Norman taking so long to get out of the forest as it's a recurrent characterizzation of his character to be desperately willing to live just *French chef kiss*

• I really like how the novel underlined how Norman's choice of sacrificing himself corresponded to a betrayal toward his friends (when you think about it, Emma definitely felt betrayed). It's almost like in his last moments Norman chose to switch roles with Ray, taking on his shoulders the burden of being both the traitor and the sacrifice.

Chapter 4

• Norman: * “ He instinctively closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the sweet memory of that time he understood how deeply loved he was. ” *

Somewhere, Ray: Can't relate

• Emma: Norman, what you want to do when you grow up?

Norman: It's a secret.

Me:

• “ Ray woke up before everyone, as usual. ”

A remarkable detail. You'd think Ray, as a good depressed person as he is, would sleep more than the average. The truth is: he doesn't sleep at all.

• Norman: There's... Another person I like

Me:

• OK NOW WHY did none tell me about the nine (9) lines of Norman / Don interacting it was worth reading the novel solely for that.

• WHY DID NONE TELL ME ABOUT DON ALMOST STRANGLING NORMAN AND MAKING HIM LITERALLY PASS AWAY IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH READING THE NOVEL SOLELY FOR THAT

• Reading about Conny being there hurts a lot but reading about Sadie and Hao brings up a totally different kind of pain. Also who the hell is Cindy?

• Norman: Oh yes, Emma and Ray, my most dear friends, my closest siblings, the reason I wake up in the morning, my only reason to live, the ones I'd entrust my life with,

Also Norman: Dunnot in the last thirteen hours and six minutes they have been acting pretty sus, I'm kinda sure they're betraying me somehow ://

• “ «I agree, but it feels like you've fallen down a rabbit hole. You're restless, you constantly look off...» said the raven haired boy, distorting his mouth in an hardly intelligible grimace and giving his friend a meaningful look.

«Norman, about that mysterious girl...»

«No, you're mistaken! I...»

Norman, filled with frustration, raised up his voice, starting to lose the coolness that was usually characteristic of him.

«But I haven't said anything yet!»

That being said Ray, with slightly mocking doing, turned on his feet and went away, leaving Norman like that. ”

I LOVE THIS BIT SO INEXPLICABLY MUCH I'm always *so* in for Oreo finishing each other sentences / reading each other's thoughts. Here, Norman answered Ray's question before he could even expose it, because he already knew what it would have been. Equally, Ray knew what Norman was going to say even though he cut his answer halfway through.

I love how much on the same page they are, they really... Totally and fully understand each other even without words, and I find it so sweet. Seriously, their dynamic is so wholesome

• Norman's last birthday gift: the thing that matters the most to him: his family's happiness

Emma's reward: the thing that matters the most to her: her family's happiness

Some things hit harder than others.

• I don't know like. When you read the novel after the series has ended, everything hurts so much more, because you know these are all memories Emma has lost forever.

• So you made colorful clothing by "coloring old clothes"? Have fun realizing y'all have celebrated Norman's birthday wearing your dead siblings' clothes

Bonus this epic note I randomly took I completely forgot the context of:

• Isabella is a bitch. I don't give a fuck about your dramatic past woman, leave that boy alone

(When the protect Ray mood hits™)

[azulazenin]

Fire Lilies

Summary: A flower it's just a flower anywhere in the world, but in the Fire Nation, the smallest gestures can hide bigger meanings. Even for the princess.

Paring: Azula x Ty Lee

A/N: This was originally written in portuguese for the tyzulaweek challenge, and posted on my wattpad account. I tried my best to translate it, so take it easy on me, english it's not my first language 😅

The first memories Azula had around fire lilies came from her early childhood, a time where everything was simpler, when her only concerns involved play with her friends and bully her brother. In that time, Azula was already a terror, a little adorable beast who liked to use the poor plants to train her fire aim, only for the pleasure of watching the immensity of black petals reduced to a pile of ashes. "They deserve it, they're not as pretty as the others." She always thought to herself, but that little act of rebellion didn't last long, Zuko exposed her bad behavior, and Ursa forbade her of keep on destroying the royal garden.

Not that Ursa was capable of stopping her daughter of doing what she likes, but anyway, the flowers did not suffer again in the hands of the princess, and the responsible for that was Ty Lee, by bringing a whole new meaning for the fire lilies in Azula's life.

— You wanna do what in my hair? – Azula was reluctant on letting someone touch her hair, especially the topknot.

— A wreath of flowers! – Ty Lee proclaimed in an adorable enthusiastic sound. — Please Zula, I already asked Mai and she didn't let me. I'm gonna do your hair just like mine, you're going to be so pretty! Well i'm not saying that you aren't already pretty, but…

— Ok! – the princess gave in, fearing that Ty Lee kept on talking all day long. — Just do the goddamn wreath.

Azula sat at the edge of the corridor stairway that connected all the courtyards in the palace, Ty Lee one step above her. With half hundred fire lilies, the little acrobat worked her way through the princess' dark hair, arranging the flowers into a arc to keep bangs away from the eyes and a cascade down a long braid. When finished, Ty Lee was so proud of her job she almost cry out of happiness.

— See? I told you it was going to be gorgeous! – she spoke between leaps, crushing Azula into a hug and giving little kisses across her face.

Azula felt her cheeks burning red and butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Her body used to react like this when she was angry, but she never had those two symptoms at the same time before, and never accompanied by that itch on the left side of her chest. Definitely, it wasn't anger what she was feeling.

— Y-yeah sure, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. – Azula babbled when she saw her reflection through the water of the fountain and stepped away from her friend, desperately trying to get rid of those scary unknown emotions.

But she didn't managed to do it, not that day, nor the days ahead of her. Azula was yet to young to understand that weird feeling close to her heart, to small to know why she always revive it whenever she was close to Ty Lee or fire lilies. But eventually she learned to disguise, to ignore the cold in her belly and sent away the redness of her face, though it was really difficult to pretend her heart wasn't beating like crazy when her friend was close with flowers on hands or asked to touch her hair.

Years later, when Azula was in her early teenage years, her father entrusted her with the biggest mission of her life, and the princess knew very well she could only count on two people to help her. All she had to do was ask, the authority of her title would do the rest, as it was the case with Mai in Omashu, but she didn't want the things to be like that with Ty Lee too. After spending such a long time away from her friend, Azula needed to know if the fire lilies had on Ty Lee the same effect they had on her.

— What an exquisite performance. – Azula said when she entered dressing room after the show, placing the bouquet of black flowers on the table. — I can't wait to see how you'll top yourself tomorrow.

Azula faced the acrobat through the mirror, trying to study her reaction, but apparently, the princess' ability of reading other people's emotions was useless on Ty Lee, 'cause she ended up losing herself in other details. There was no deny that her friend was beautiful, the brown hair and that pair of gray eyes might not be such a big deal in other countries, but in the Fire Nation, it turned her beauty in something rather rare. A woman like that, in the non humble Azula's opinion, should be on a palace surrounded by servents tending to her needs, not in a filth circus at the ends of the world.

— I'm sorry Azula, but unfortunately it won't be a show tomorrow. – Ty Lee responded, awakening the princess out of her trance.

— Really? – the surprise was genuine, but Azula tried hard to pretend otherwise. Not even the conquering of Ba Sing Se could make her so happy as the realization that Ty Lee somehow corresponded those weird feelings.

— Yes, I wanna join you in your mission.

The next time Azula was close to Ty Lee and fire lilies at the same time, the circumstances weren't the best ones. The war was over and lost, her throne usurped by her brother, her facilities were a room that could easily be taking by a cell. Her only company was Zuko – when his duties as Fire Lord allowd him to remember he had a sister – the psychiatric hospital team, and of course, her little acrobat.

Sometimes, Azula was still tempted to hit Ty Lee with lightning as a punishment for her betrayal, but when she stop to think clearly, she comes to realize that she can't have the luxury of cutting from her life the few people that remain.

— Happy birthday, Zula. – Ty Lee wished during one of her weekly visits, handing to the princess a single fire lily through the bars. — I would've bring an entire bouquet, but the doctors didn't allow.

Azula held the freshly harvested flower, breathing the smell that brought back the memories from a childhood that seems to have been lived ages ago. She felt like crying, wishing to be a kid again. If she could go back time, she would've been nicer to Ty Lee, and wouldn't pretend she didn't like when her friend adorned her hair with a wreath of flowers.

— Thank you, Ty. – she said, holding against her chest the flower she would keep until the petals turnes to dust. — Come closer, I wanna tell you a secret.

There was no secret, not anymore at least. There were no expectations to be met nor goals to achieve, only a birth title that no longer stands for anything. There was nothing to hide, and as ironic as it could sound, it was behind those bars that Azula was finally free to do what she spend years wanting to do.

When Ty Lee approached her painted face with the Kyoshi Warriors colors, Azula did not pity to ruin the perfect makeup by sealing their lips with a kiss. Ty Lee frozed for a second, but she soon find out there was no escaping from what she too desired and kissed the princess back until she lost her breath.

— When I leave this place… – Azula said with a determined expression. — I will kiss you every single day of my life.

[aki-draws-things]

NaNoWriMo 2020 #20

And here we are, at the end of this month. For around 2k words I didn’t met the 50k goal but it’s fine nevertheless. I wrote, everyday for a whole month, I created things mostly for myself, worked on fics I’m going to expand . I probably got even a little better. All while still working full time and currently battling mental health that is proving to be harder than ever. So, in the end, it’s still a success and I’m proud of it.

This fic ended up way longer, but it also belongs to one of my favorite AUs and I just couldn’t stop writing.

Just a little background that I didn’t explained in the fic, Lan Qiren finds the Yin Iron instead of Wen Ruohan and the story moves accordingly. I wrote a little snippet or two before, of this reverse au, but this one is mostly focused on Wen Xu and Nie Mingjue.

Prompt: Trail of blood

Ship: Mingjue/Zonghui (but that’s not the focus)

Word Count: 6608

They once had been friends. He once had dreamed of becoming their sworn brother like his father did when he was younger, he once dreamed the three of them, heir to three of the Great Sects, standing together, side by side. Undisturbed. Untouched by mundane fights. Powerful and proud and strong in their friendship and brotherhood. He had always been a dreamer and his father warned him, not too long before that day, dreamers have a hard life in that world. The world is cruel and people easily turn against you, even those you trust the most. Especially those you trust the most.

They take you by the hand one day, treat you with kindness and love, they teach you what teachers and parents won’t. And you trust them. You love them. You love them so much you burst into flames. And they stay there and watch you burn, because they're the one starting the fire and they admire their great work.

And you burn.

He didn’t understand at first. He blamed his father’s words on grief. His older sworn brother had been badly wounded by a horned beast during a night hunt together, a hunt his older son joined too. He still remembered the look on Nie MingJue’s face when he told him, little Huaisang wailing inconsolable in his arms, the look when he asked him to take care of his little brother because the Unclean Realm wasn’t the best place for him. It took a while for Huaisang to finally let go of his brother, promises of sweets and some new brushes and fans, in the end he let go, only to cling just as desperately at him.

“Da-ge will be back to you before you even notice.” It was a lie, but aren't lies that people always say in those cases? Nie Huaisang started to ask of his brother right after dinner and the wailings started again, now followed by his own brother’s crying, in solidarity.

“Why are you even crying now?” His brother sobbed, crawled on the bed next to them and tucked his head under his arm so that he was holding both of them now.

“SangSang is— is crying.” He sniffled against him.

“That’s not an answer, Didi. You don’t have to do what SangSang does.”

“SangSang makes me sad.”

He wished he had listened to his father that day, maybe all of that wouldn’t have happened, maybe it would have gone differently at least.

Maybe. But it was late now.

They once had been friends. They studied together in Gusu and Qishan, they trained together, hunted together. They spent nights getting drunk and wandering aimlessly around the streets of whatever city they were in, Nie MingJue always sober and running after them before they could get themselves into trouble. They dreamed and shouted wishes at the night, starlit sky. They had been friends, and they had been happy.

Friendship ended in fire. Just like his father said.

The Lan Sect was, first and foremost, known for their rules. Secondarily for following a righteous path, pure and kind and gentle and true like the white robes they wore. Their rules had probably rules of their own, sub-rules, hidden things written so small on the wall that only a Lan could see it. Third, they never lied. It was against the rules, several of them, it was not proper to establish a good relationship with the other sects, and they were absolutely awful liars. Lan Xichen tried once with them, he almost fell for it, then he turned to MingJue who was staring at the young Lan Heir, a hand under his cheek, the elbow on the table and his head shaking just slightly, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t try that again, Xichen. Even a blind man could see it’s not true.”

Lan XiChen blushed and took a sip from his tea, their game not involving some Emperor’s Smile that time, not after Nie MingJue had to run after them in the middle of the night, way past curfew, around Cloud Recesses, and they kept running, blindly and drunk, in opposite directions.

Lans really couldn’t lie to save their lives but, he soon discovered, they could omit details and plans all too well, they were convincing, with their words falling like silver from their mouths, and their smiles never faltering making them appear completely innocent and honest. That was, in truth, lying but most people failed to see it through, too enchanted by their words.

He didn’t see it coming either, not until it was too late. By then he was burning. 

Nightless city was on fire. Literally, with no exceptions. 

"I don't want to!" his brother cried, clinging at his robes despite not being a child anymore. Wen Xu shook him off and pushed him toward a hidden passage with a Bag of important documents and papers they managed to save from the fire, history of their clan, rules they knew by heart but written by wen mao in person. 

"but you will." 

"brother!" 

"take him somewhere safe, somewhere that will not fall." he said turning to wen zhuliu who simply nodded, he already had two places in mind, trying to decide which one would be safer for the second master, which one was less likely to fall before they reached it. He wanted to ask wen xu, but people could hear them. nothing was safe now in Nightless city, and they were alone. 

"No! - wen chao screamed again. - no, come with us." he tried to reach out, his hand only brushing the sleeve of his older brother's robe before getting dragged away, his cries soon disappearing in the maze of underground corridors leading out of the city. He was in good hands, wen xu thought, gripping his sword and running to find their missing father, the best hands. More than once he trusted wen zhuliu with both his and his brother's life, his loyalty unmatched, just like his. Brother in Qinghe. Maybe Qinghe would be a good place to hide, the sect leader would definitely give them shelter and aid, he hated the Lans for years, ever since his father's ultimate demise. But perhaps Qinghe was also too obvious. The friendship once binding the three of them was not a secret. Perhaps Qinghe had already fallen. 

He stopped short on the doors of the fire palace, he stared at the line of inner disciples, people he knew by name since childhood, people he trained with, hunted with, people with whom he joked around during long nights of drinking and games. Not just disciples, friends. They were kneeling in the ground, robes torn and burned, blades shattered before them, powerless, waiting to be justice by the man towering over them, smiling in his still pristine robes. Waiting. 

"I was thinking you had ran away, a-xu." 

Don't call me that. You have no right to call me that. He wanted to say, growl, instead he gripped his sword and took a step closer, and another, and another, until he was standing in front of his men despite their loud protests to stay back, to run. Despite them saying they would die before letting the young Master get wounded. Lan xichen laughed. Nothing compared to the sound he remembered from the long sleepless nights in Gusu. It was… Dark. It was a pretty obvious description but wen xu couldn't think of any other word, no matter how childish the description was. 

"I'm glad you didn't. There is something I want to show you." 

For a second, a long agonizing second, he feared he would take out a head from the sleeve pocket. His brother's head. Or his cousins' one. But it would have been too gruesome even for him, and in no way his robes would remain this white and clean. A banner then, his mind said in dread. Qinghe's banner. 

Instead it was a little piece of, seemingly, rock, floating on his palm, pulsating with red energy. 

"do you know what it is, right? - of course. Of course he did. Lan xichen smiled again and he swallowed. - well, of course you do. You have a piece too. Now, there are two ways this situation can work out. You hand over your yin iron willingly, - he smiled and walked closer. - and keep your life and your disciples lives. Or I kill them, one by one, then I kill you and take the yin iron from your still warm body. Your choice, little cousin." 

He couldn't give it up, not now nor ever, not to him. His father entrusted him with the shard their clan hid ever since the great fight. Letting lan Xichen have the shard wouldn't only break his father's trust, but he would make the Lans way more dangerous than they already were and he could have that. How many more clans he would destroy? How many sects would fall under his power? 

"xichen-ge…" he tried. Maybe he could still reason with him, maybe deep down it was still his friend, his almost brother. 

"a-xu, a-xu… don't be silly. I have you a great option, to keep your life and your disciples lives. We know you're not that stupid to turn it down." 

"I can't… Xichen-ge you know I can't…" 

He almost said he didn't have it with himself, which was actually true, but that would make him change plans and go after the actual person in possess of the shard. - he trusted wen zhuliu with his life and his brother's life. He trusted him to get the yin iron out of nightless city and hide it somewhere. Possibly forever. He couldn't risk his life more than that. He had probably already condemned him anyway. - 

"a-xu. - now his voice wasn't sweet and kind anymore, there was a not even hidden warning in his tone, dangerous, threatening. - you're forcing my hand here." 

Something told him lan xichen wasn't waiting for an excuse, he was hoping he would refuse, just to have one more reason to fight. One more reason to kill them all. 

He couldn't give him what he wanted, and even if he could he didn't want to. But he could fight. - he would lose. Wen xu was no fool, he knew lan xichen was stronger than him, but he could buy his brother a little longer. He could buy his father, wherever he was, a chance to escape, given he was still alive. He would die, and he wasn't scared of it. - 

"no." he said, straightening his back and unsheathing his sword. He tried to look strong, unfazed by his threats, not a scared young man trying to distract him long enough for the others to save their lives. Lan xichen cocked his head and shook it slightly, his smile never faltering once, he didn't move, still as marble with the glowing shard hovering above his hand, waiting for wen xu to attack first and give him the only excuse he needed to strike back. It wouldn't take much once reached that point, his martial superiority was known to everyone. A fair fight would have been between lan xichen and nie mingjue, not between them. Wen xu hoped it would never get to that. 

Lan xichen seemed distracted for a moment, he grabbed something in his hand and smiled again, pleased. 

"seems like lotus Pier fell just now. - he said nonchalantly, like talking about the weather or the latest gossip running around lanling. He had never been one for gossip. - it's quite a blessing that the Wei boy has such a crush on wangji, he wouldn't deny him anything, not even his home. There is just one problem. Yunmeng has no yin iron. Qishan, on the other hand…"

He didn't care much for yunmeng in truth. He was familiar with the Jiang sect, sure, he was friends with Jiang Yanli and would never wish for her to be hurt, or worse, but the Jiang sect didn't raise a finger when the Lans began taking power. They didn't show support when nie zhenxiang was killed and his son became sect leader. On the contrary, both Jiang and jin sects tried to make moves on him, securing alliances through marriage. Hell! Jin guangshan even tried to offer himself to take care of the young leader and his brother, take them as wards as he rules over Qinghe until they're old enough. His father almost threw himself at the Jin sect leader, a white robe in striking contrast with the usual red and black ones of the wen clan, if anyone would be allowed to take care of the newly appointed nie leader that would be him, he said standing in front of nie mingjue who almost looked even smaller than usual, with being zhenxiang sworn brother and all. 

"not that sect leader Nie needs someone to administer Qinghe in his stead. - he added and turned to look at him. - youth doesn't affect ability, and in these past months as acting leader he proved to be just as great as any of us." 

There was a clear accent of pride in his voice, pride the first time wen xu had been jealous of before realizing, as they grew, that it was because mingjue had been the first. The first newborn his father ever held in his arms, the one he spoiled and kept spoiling even after having kids of his own. He stopped being jealous and started looking up to him. 

Of course, imagining lotus Pier burning into ashes was something he never wished, no matter how useless and blind they acted. Heavens knew who would be next. "not Qinghe. Please, not Qinghe." he silently begged. 

"but it seems like little a-xu doesn't want to cooperate. That's a real shame. You know…" he took a step closer and wen xu pulled the sword in front of himself. "I liked you. You were always my favorite. Mingjue-xiong is strong, sure but… He's too soft, don't you think? Always spoiling that little brother of his. You're not soft. I think I will give you one last option, because I'm in a good mood today." 

Good mood? You stand in front of a city on fire. You killed dozens of disciples to get there. If that's a good mood, then---

"join me." he held out his hand and wen xu eyed him warily. "join me and qishan will be spared. No, not just spared. You'll have power." 

Sure. Like they were going to share it. 

It almost seemed like lan xichen believed he would accept, maybe he hoped, maybe deep down he wished he would accept. 

Wen xu charged against him without giving him an answer, his action was enough already. Lan xichen didn't move until the last moment. His sword remained sheathed but from the yin iron shard came a light, red and hot, a wave that sent him tumbling back and falling on his knees. The shard pulsed again as he tried to raise and a new wave ran over him and the disciples forced on their knees. He screamed. 

It wasn't a pain he was used to with sword fights, it wasn't a cut or even a slash, it came from inside. His body was lit on fire from the inside. For a moment he wondered if those wen zhuliu took the core from felt like that. Maybe it was, maybe it was similar to a qi deviation. Maybe the yin iron energy was triggering one in that moment. 

It wasn't just pain. He felt his energy, his life force and his blood stream through his body and veins, like a constant rumble in his head that made it impossible to focus on anything else no matter how hard he would try. He tasted blood in his mouth, he saw his disciples fall on the ground, some still, some agonizing and screaming, some-- he saw blood. Blood drenching the streets of the nightless city, blood flowing into the flames, its smell mixing with the smoke and rising high to the sky. 

A shiver ran through his back, he tried to use his sword to lift himself but his arms gave out and he fell with his face on the dirt. 

Fire. Smoke. Blood. Screams. 

The wens were born in fire, his father said. They stole the sunlight for the world to never be left in the darkness again. Or so was the tale told to kids  as a bedtime story. It was only a tale in the end, his father said that fire couldn’t harm a true Wen. Either he wasn’t one or that was a lie, he didn’t care at that moment, he just wanted the pain to stop.

“Wen Xu.” Lan Xichen’s voice had lost all the sweetness he had; it was cold, unforgiving, he accepted no answer that wasn’t what he had in mind and he would not put his thoughts into words. His lips could say “Will you now join me?” - Or maybe he had just said that and Wen Xu didn’t realize, struggling to make out what was real and what not. - and the answer he wanted was “Of course I will follow you.”, no more, no less, exactly those words.

“No…” Wen Xu coughed, blood trickled down his chin and his vision faltered, Lan Xichen’s body swam out of focus for a moment, the world tilted and he was glad he was already on the ground, saving himself from another fall. He was going to die. For sure Lan Xichen was going to kill him, search him and the palace for the Yin Iron and, realizing it wasn't there and he had lost a lot of precious time he would hunt down his brother.

“Please… please be safe.�� He thought, and night dawned on the Wen’s city.

Lan Xichen didn’t kill him in the end and that was already surprising enough. Perhaps he thought him dead, but he must have not checked for whatever reason, or he had been distracted by something else, got a message or something. Anyway Wen Xu woke up coughing blood and shivering, surrounded by bodies and almost dead fires. No Lans in sight, like they all left Nightless city to its now obvious fate. He couldn’t stay anyway, he had to get out, get somewhere safe and find his brother and their father before it was too late hoping beyond hope that it wasn't already too late.

He felt his stomach churn as he forced his body to move, bile and blood rising to his mouth, everything hurt even where he can’t find any physical wound. Still he forced himself to move, slowly walk out of the city, away from the some and the blood and the smell of burnt flesh of people he once knew. He dragged his feet for hours, through the night and the following day, his strength too unstable to even dare to fly on his sword, the thought of enemies around every corner forbidding him to stop and take a well deserved rest. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t sit down on the root of a tree in a hidden path and close his eyes a moment. He couldn’t even try to stop the bleeding without risking losing consciousness on the spot. He could only move. Keep moving. Move forward until his weary feet crossed the borders of Qinghe. But he still couldn’t rest, not before reaching the Unclean Realm. He would be safe there, his older cousin would give him shelter, perhaps he already did it for his brother and Wen Zhuliu,. Perhaps he would get there and find them safely inside the tall walls. The Unclean Realm couldn’t fall, not to strength or convincing words. Unbending like the steel of their sabers.

The first time he saw the walls around the Unclean Realm Wen Xu was five and thought it was the most terrifying high walls ever. Everything was in dark gray and black colors, walls, doors, the robes of the soldiers keeping watch. Even the Sect Leader and his older son wore gray robes. Over the years, as he grew older and closer to Nie MingJue he began appreciating the hidden colors of the Nie Sect. Nie MingJue still wore dark gray, but there his inner robe was a pale, creamy white, something he would later see Nie Huaisang wear all the time, there were accents of silver on his outer robe, on the hems of the sleeves and the collar, silver for the sewing thread used in most of his clothes. Wen Xu had always been exceptionally fond of a light, almost transparent dark gray robe MingJue sometimes wore during official meetings and celebration. It made him look almost regal. There was also some gold, on the belt and the tassel hanging from his fan and from Baxia sheath, they said gold was his mother’s color. - he had a hairpin in the shape of a sun with a red stone, a symbol, Wen Xu recognized immediately, of the Wen Sect. When he asked when he got it, and from who Nie MingJue shook his head, finger brushing over the hairpin. “I have it with me since I remember.” He admitted, he later found out it had been the gift his father gave him for his birth, as a sign of his brotherhood with Nie ZhēnXiàng and as soon as MingJue was old enough, and his hair long enough, his father put it on. -

The Unclean Realm was much warmer than what his walls would give away and for Wen Xu that warmth meant safety. He dragged his feet weakly through the streets, he leaned on the walls of nearby houses and only stopped to cough in his hand. Blood trickled from his mouth, it pooled under his feet when he stopped, drenched the red robes and left a trail behind him as he walked. Wounds began to split open as he moved, like the energy that hit him and threatened to destroy his body from inside was slowly making his way out, cutting his chest to get out. The fire was gone, he felt cold, shivering and freezing; he felt numb, his limbs weak and heavy as he dragged himself closer and closer to safety, forcing his body not to stop moving.

There were voices, suddenly, voices close, familiar ones, they called his name, they screamed, demanded to know what happened. He couldn’t place the voices, or was it only one?, he couldn’t find the strength to answer, he looked up, eyes half closed and unfocused, his body trembling so much he felt like he was going to tumble over at any moment if he dared to take one more step, there was a translucent robe entering his line of view, a familiar one. Safe. His mind said at the blurred sight, and that was the last thing Wen Xu remembered. He fell into strong arms and finally stopped.

Qinghe winter nights were long. People living there got used to it after the first years, they got used to waking up in the early morning before the sun was fully up, they got used to seeing it go down as they were still working and returned to their homes in the light of thousands of lanterns. Some people carried their personal lanterns, some were classic, a candle in a metal cage with paper around it to protect it from the wind, others were fancier lanterns in silk, they all had the same purpose of lighting the way home. Nie MingJue had a metal cage colored in gold, the paper had some birds and flowers inked on it by Huaisang, in the perfect light the bird’s eye shone gold, nie MingJue knew he did it on purpose and couldn’t help but love the lantern, he used it to move around the palace at night, like in that moment.

He opened the door just enough to get inside and closed it behind himself before any wind could get in. Winter nights were cold just as much as they were long.

The young man on the bed didn’t move, he slept peacefully through the days and the nights, the healer said his body was recovering slowly, the yin energy caused more damage than what it looked like and his qi was struggling to balance itself.

“You’re telling me he had an induced qi deviation?”

“Sect Leader, I wouldn’t put it in those exact terms, but the symptoms are similar to a deviation, yes.”

“Induced one it is, then.” He decided, because there was no other explanation.

He sat by the bed, vigil and awake, waiting for a change that in three days didn’t come. He too had his small knowledge of healing, many years before, almost a lifetime before, he had begged Lan Qiren to teach him when the Nie healers said it wasn't a knowledge he should lose time on. Master Lan on the other hand taught him to heal wounds, to share his energy and to stabilize the qi. It wasn’t much but it probably saved his life many times already. What he didn’t know was how to stabilize it when a source of Yin energy was rejecting it, there was no one that could teach him, no one that could help. So he waited and kept watch.

“You need to rest Da-ge.” Huaisang said, slipping in the room when noticing the light still on.

“I’m resting.” His voice betrayed him, he stifled a yawn and closed the heavier robe in front of himself.

“It doesn't look like it. You snapped at ZongHui today.”

Yes, he did, he thought guiltily, he also went to apologize after the meeting was officially over; he knelt in front of his chamber and bowed, he said he was sorry, asked for his forgiveness and that it had been improper and unfair for him, as a sect Leader, to behave in such manner. ZongHui sounded almost surprised, not even angry at him. He understood his worry, perhaps better than most people, he shared that same worry, and the rest too.

“If you’re not angry… - Nie MingJue sounded uncertain, still kneeling in front of him until Nie ZongHui forced him on his knees if MingJue didn’t want him to kneel too. - then why did you get out of the council room that fast?”

“You asked me to check on our prisoner, didn’t you? I thought you meant in that moment.”

“Oh…”

“He still doesn’t want to talk.” Nie ZongHui had said.

“I know, Huaisang. - MingJue said to his brother, shaking away the memory of his voice rising to his most trusted man. - And I apologized already. You should be in bed already, or you’ll be late for training again, tomorrow.”

“Da-geeeee…” he complained pouting as he slipped out of the room.” “You go to bed too! Or you’ll fall asleep during training!”

He knew, it wouldn't be the first time either, but he couldn't simply leave wen xu and go sleep, not after--

The truth was wen xu reminded him of father. Nie huaisang was too young at the time, he remembered the shock and the pain of losing him, but not the long, restless nights spent awake, waiting for him to get better, waiting as his qi destroyed his own body. Healers said it was different, small details making it different, wen xu wasn't going to succumb to a massive qi deviation, probably. Still nie mingjue sat by his bed and waited. 

It was after a week that the wen heir woke up, dazed, looking at his surroundings until his eyes settled on the person dozing off next to the bed. He didn't feel rested, he felt like he could sleep one week more, but he also didn't feel his body threatening to split at any moment. 

"you're awake." there was a little surprise in the voice, there was sleep he tried to brush off, a hand holding his and a worried, yet relieved look on MingJue's face. Yes, he was awake. Alive. Safe. 

"my brother…?" he asked, voice raspy, his throat hurting. Nie mingjue shook his head, he wasn't there, wen xu hoped he still managed to reach a safe place. 

"think of getting better yourself, you almost died." he said. "I'll send my spies  to look for him." wen xu nodded, not thinking much of his words and fell asleep. 

The next time he woke up he felt better, more awake, more focused. Nie mingjue was still there. 

"you don't have spies." he stated as a greeting. He had never heard of spies in the Nie sect. They were known for strength, for heavy sabers and direct battles, spies were more something his sect had, or the Jin sect. 

"No, I don't. - nie mingjue agreed with a chuckle. - I have only one spy and it's my own man." 

As if on clue, a shadow appeared outside the door, kneeling and silently asking permission to enter, granted by a quick gesture of MingJue's hand. 

"I found them." 

The man was familiar, wen xu was sure he met him before but he couldn't remember the name, or where he met him. It wasn't important. 

"my brother?" 

"and zhuliu." the man nodded. The next thing wen xu noticed, when dropping his head with a relieved sigh, was the man's shadow. It was… Weird. It was long, stretched in a way that was impossible in that light, almost like it was checking outside. He blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light or due to his tiredness. 

"can you bring them here safely?" 

The man bowed and his shadow stretched more, before he turned to leave. 

"what-- who is he?" 

Wen xu finally dared to ask. 

"nie zonghui. My spy." mingjue said with a little smile. "he comes from the Zhao clan, you're familiar with it, right?"  

The name was familiar. Zhao… Zhao….

"zhuliu came from the Zhao clan… I thought he was the last survivor."

Nie mingjue sat with his back against the bed.

"they're brothers from what I know. The clan wasn't known for they're high cultivation, but every generation had a member with a particular, unnatural ability. In our generation there have been two." 

"and the destruction of the clan when zhuliu lost control over it. What is zonghui?" 

"a shadow. - well, that was obvious enough given how silent he appeared and how his own shadow acted on his own but… - they're twins and their parents were too so proud that zhuliu developed such strong ability, despite its danger, that they wanted to keep him safe. So they made his twin his shadow. He had to protect him from everything and everyone. Zonghui said that when he was 10 and his brother's power went rogue his own ability got triggered and he merged with the darkness to save himself. He lived as such for a couple of years before learning how to free himself, and then they took separate ways."

"he literally became his shadow…" wen xu said, almost sadly. "that's why sometimes zhuliu looks back at his shadow despite them not being together. But… but zhuliu never mentioned a brother, even less a twin." 

"Zonghui left in the night, without a goodbye. Like a shadow. That's when I found him, hiding on the walls of the palace. He looked cold and uncomfortable so I took him in." 

Wen xu stifled a laugh, people said the Nie brothers were nothing alike, but they were wrong. They both were way too keen on taking in strays, be it little birds like huaisang did or people, like mingjue did more time than people knew. Zonghui hadn't been the first one, and he probably wasn't the last either. - he was taking them in too, when most sects would ignore them in fear the lan would come after them. - 

"you're lucky to have someone like him." he commented, laying on his side, a hand playing softly over nie MingJue's hair like so many times before, they were close enough to let themselves be seen at their weakest point without fear, close enough to let the other touch them. - wen xu prided himself of having been the first person to have sect leader Nie under his hands, completely at his mercy, to have him beg for one touch more. It had been one night only, they knew they wouldn't work in the long run, but nothing could stop them from trying. Despite the two years Mingjue had more than him, Wen Xu immediately realized he never let anyone close. Not that close. For a moment he wondered if he still was like he remembered, melting like snow in the sun in the care of someone he trusted and loved. - "it looks like he belongs to you, from the way he was bowing." 

"the way he was… - nie mingjue laughed lightly and cocked his head to look at him. - are you sure you're not referring to the mark you keep touching now? Always so subtle, xu'er. Subtle indeed." 

They slipped back in a familiar banter as they waited, knowing, both of them, that this was the only way they wouldn't fall apart in the dawn of a war. 

It took three days for ZongHui to return, while he could move easily and fast through the shadows he couldn’t bring anyone with himself. Wen Xu woke up with a sudden movement of the mattress, like someone had joined him, he opened his eyes to the sight of his little brother hugging his neck like life depended on that, desperately grasping at his robes and hiding against his shoulder. As soon as he realized who it was his arms flew to hold him just as tight before grabbing Wen Zhuliu, silently waiting beside the bed, and bringing him down in a hug.

“Let’s leave them be. - Nie MingJue said, a hand resting over ZongHui’s neck. - You traveled far and spent enough energy. Come rest.” He di9don’t complain, letting MingJue lead the way, for once.

The Wens never spent more than a week in the Unclean Realm before, usually during cultivation conferences or meeting his father had with the Sect Leader, both MingJue and his late father. Now, despite wishing to return to Qishan and help rebuild it, despite wanting to search for their father, they stayed in Qinghe, if possible the safest place. The Lans could easily get them there, it was true, they could come, both Twin Jades, and destroy everything on their path, but Lan Qiren wasn’t stupid, and neither were his nephews. A direct attack on Qinghe would mean an instant war, and even they, with their seemingly unstoppable army of puppets, couldn’t hope to win without proper preparations.

Lanling, they got notice of, had been quick to bow to the new master of their lands, giving them up in fear masked by an obviously fake alliance. Not even someone like Jin GuangShan could really believe Lan Qiren words of keeping them safe would hold as soon as someone spoke ill of them.

Qinghe still had a little advantage. If the Lans dared to attack the prisoner they had would be delivered to them instantly. In pieces.

What surprised more Wen Xu was how unafraid Nie MingJue looked when speaking of threats and possibilities, when he planned for the oncoming war, be it in a month or a year. The soft young man he knew once had totally been absorbed by the hate for those he considered part of his family in their youth, and Wen Xu couldn’t blame him. His people, his disciples always swore to follow him, to advance and retreat with him, no matter what lay ahead or behind them. He almost wished he could inspire his people with the same loyalty one day, one very distant day, because in no way his father was dead, in no way he would become Sect Leader right before a war, he didn’t even know where to start. And as he watched and dreamed to be like him he saw the cracks stretch bigger and deeper. When the world was turned and people weren’t looking at Nie MingJue he saw the cracks appear. One by one he saw them stretch larger, threatening to destroy him before the time, threatening to swallow him.

“Do you think it exist, a different way?”

He joined him one night when he noticed him sitting on the stairs of the silent training ground.

“A different way for what?”

“Stop them. To avoid a war. Do you think—”

“No.” And his voice broke, because deep down, Wen Xu knew he wished too to find a different way, buried deep beneath rage and grief and desire to protect. “We knew war would come for us the day Master Lan found the Yin Iron, we just turned a blind eye on that until he arrived in our gardens and trampled on everything on his path.”

“But maybe… What if we destroy the Yin Iron?”

Nie MingJue turned, he looked at him, pained, before standing and crossing his arms over the chest, pulling the robe so that it closed on the front, protecting him from the cold.

“I don’t know. - He admitted and Wen Xu looked up. - I don’t know what would happen, I don’t know what will happen the day we’ll move. But I know it will end in war and people will die.”

Wen Xu didn’t want a war. He had been trained, of course, he knew how to fight, and he knew how to survive. He had people he wanted to protect and that was enough to convince him, but he had never been on a real battlefield, he never had to look at his men in the eyes, the few that survived the burnt, and led them into battle. Her would, of course, because it was the only thing to do, right rot wrong meant little when fighting for survival, but he would carry the guilt and the weight of every man he would lose. Nie MingJue seemed to read his thoughts as clear as he had spoken them.

“Maybe there is another way, and maybe that way would work, - Wen Xu looked back at him, suddenly hopeful. - But I will take the higher risk in a battle so that you, and our brothers, won’t have to fight one later.” “Because I will not survive this one.” He thought.

In the end war came. In the end the four Sects came together against the Lans. In the end Wen Xu felt no shame in admitting how scared, absolutely terrified, he felt even when standing side by side to Nie MingJue. In the end he curled up on Nie MingJue one night, their fingers intertwined and held tight in fear of having the other disappear. In the end, when morning came, Wen Xu woke up to an empty bed.

In the end there was blood running down the white stones of Cloud Recesses as he ran as fast as he could until he reached a small pavilion surrounded by absolute silence and a red, pulsing light; Nie MingJue's body, bloody and battered, laid slumped against the wall. At the sound of his footsteps stopping Lan Xichen turned, eyes flashing red and blood smeared on his smiling lips, a hand holding Nie MingJue’s face up, fingers clawing in his skin.

“You arrived just in time. - He said, voice low, never looking away, almost freezing Wen Xu in place. He wasn’t scared. He couldn’t be scared. Not now. Not when it mattered. - Will you join me, now?”

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like a Butterfly...

Master Fu couldn't allow this to continue. Adrien needed to understand, needed to trust his judgment and listen to Ladybug.

But Adrien did understand. Gabriel taught him the same lesson every day. If they saw him as worthless then Adrien wanted nothing to do with them.

He couldn't choose his Father.

But he could choose this.

Ch.1 OK Boomer

Master Fu makes another mistake in a long life of making mistakes.

"I'm sure there'll be another Chat Noir to give me cheese... But he won't be you."

Adrien smiled softly at Plagg's words, the fingers around his Miraculous lowering, as his kwami soothed the sharp, spiked pain in his chest. He could be patient just a little while longer. Even if he was itching to do something. To help. Adrien didn't like being benched... But Plagg said they needed him. So he'd wait-

Both boy and kwami started as a green figure landed on the rooftop with them. The short man was covered in turtle inspired armor. Adrien saw a stern gaze look out from under the stranger's conical hat.

"Master- !" Plagg exclaimed, green bubbles coming out of his mouth. "You transformed!"

"Master?" Adrien glanced between his kwami and... "Who are you?"

"I am the Guardian of the Miraculous, Chat Noir."

Adrien's eyes widened at the sound of his hero name.

Steeling himself for what had to be done Master Fu leveled a disappointed look at the boy. "And you, Adrien, have made a serious breach of trust."

"Wh-what?" The unease in Adrien's gut rose at the scolding tone of the Guardian.

"Master," Plagg tried. "He was just-"

"About to give up one of the two most powerful Miraculous. The one I entrusted into his care." Master Fu didn't raise his voice, he spoke evenly, factually, grimly. Trying to get the boy to admit his mistake.

Instinctively, Adrien covered the ring with his hand.

"Maybe I was wrong to trust you with Destruction." Master Fu sighed.

Plagg zipped toward the Guardian. "Master, you can't mean that!"

A cold, sharp jolt arced across Adrien's spine as his eyes widened. Then narrowed, Chat Noir rising with his anger. "Trust? You kept me in the dark! Ladybug-"

"It was not her secret to keep." Brow furrowing, Master Fu looked back at Adrien. "Ladybug vouched for you. And here you are, proving that she was mistaken, that you're not ready. Surely you can understand that?"

"I didn't even know you existed!" Adrien dug his fingernails into his palms, trying to ignore the patronizing attitude of the Guardian. "Why did you choose me if you were just going to keep me at arms length? Why does Ladybug get to choose our teammates? Why did it take all of Paris!" Here Adrien extended his arms to take in the drowned city. "Flooding for you to show your face!"

Plagg tried to interject but he was spoken over.

"It is precisely because Paris is flooded that I am here!" Master Fu took a step toward Adrien and the boy stepped back. "I chose you because I thought you would stand by Ladybug no matter what."

Adrien tensed but forced himself to stand his ground.

"I should have interfered sooner." The Guardian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I thought you would grow out of this infatuation you have with Ladybug."

Genuine confusion came over Adrien despite his anger and hurt. "Wh- What are you talking about?"

"Just because Ladybug does not love you back is no reason to behave in this manner!"

"What are you talking about!?" Adrien shouted. Does he really think so little of me? "What does that have to do with anything!?"

"Ladybug proved herself to me!" Master Fu shouted back, ignoring Adrien's inquiry. "You haven't!"

It was like the Guardian had struck him, Adrien flinching from the blow. Looking away from the Guardian's gaze, his eyes found Plagg's. For the first time since he met the kwami, Plagg was silent. Ears and tail drooping. Like he felt every cruel jab the Guardian's words dealt the boy.

Master Fu softened his features as he took in the boy's trembling, tense stance. Like a cat ready to pounce... Or run. "Do you understand?" he asked gently. "Ladybug trusts me and you should too. Without trust a team will fail. But if you can't, then I'll find someone who can."

Forcing his eyes back towards the Guardian, Adrien's mind made a sudden, unexpected turn. You sound like Father. Adrien stilled and examined the 'Master' again.

The Guardian wasn't as tall as Gabriel or as... looming as Gabriel. His voice wasn't as cold. But the manner in which this stranger spoke of trust was familiar. Like Adrien had heard it before.

Empty promises, his mind whispered. He goes on and on about trust while offering none in return. Cold dread turned to searing heat in Adrien's chest. Using Ladybug, someone you love, to guilt you into following orders. Fists trembled at his side with the effort of restraining his growing rage. Threatens to replace you for daring to ask questions! Adrien's heartbeat pounded in his ears, insisting, demanding.

"Do you understand?" Master Fu repeated.

"... I understand," Adrien said as he brought his hand up to tear the cursed ring off.

"NO!" Plagg latched himself onto the ring.

Master Fu's eyes blew wide open with shock. "What do you think you're doing!"

Adrien gazed at Plagg with a pained expression. But it quickly hardened into a glare as Adrien lifted his eyes to the Guardian. "What does it look like? I'm quitting."

Panic bloomed in Master Fu's chest as he mentally sought a way to push Adrien in the right direction. Seizing onto the first thought that came to him.

"I'm sorry, Plagg." Adrien didn't look at his friend.

"If you do this you'll prove I was right not to trust you!"

"... Please, Adrien..."

"You'll prove that you're not ready!"

"Goodbye. I'll mi-" Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll miss you."

"That you're unworthy of wielding a Miraculous!"

Using the Guardian's desperate words as fuel, Adrien pushed down his upbringing. The side of himself that told him to be respectful of his elders. And let Chat Noir out for the last time. "OK, boomer."

With that, Adrien yanked the Miraculous off and practically threw it at the Guardian. Scrambling to make sure the ring didn't fall into the waters below, Master Fu was distracted just long enough for Adrien to disappear.

Staring at the empty space in disbelief, Master Fu's brow furrowed. He could look for the boy... but Adrien had already made his choice. And there were more pressing matters than a former Chosen's tantrum.

Master Fu hurried to Ladybug's aid.

Adrien didn't move from his hiding place in a corner of the roof. Even as he heard the stranger leave. The rage he felt replaced with heartbreak. Tears pooled in his eyes as his mind caught up.

The person Adrien trusted most in the world trusted that- that- man, more than she trusted him. That is, Ladybug didn't really trust him. Adrien pulled his knees to his chest.

Being Chat Noir was his favorite thing in the world... But just like everything else he wasn't 'good enough'. Not for his Father, not for Ladybug, not even for Plagg! Adrien buried his face into his arms.

Pain bloomed throughout his body, shoulders shaking, as he allowed himself to mourn the loss of Chat Noir. Only one other person would mourn with him. In that moment Adrien doubted anyone else would be sorry to see Chat go... And even he would get a new holder soon enough.

Ladybug would get a partner she could count on, the so-called Guardian would get someone who doesn't question orders and even Father wouldn't have to deal with his disappearances.

Really, the only one who lost anything... was him. And what did that matter if Paris was safer without him? He stayed there, curled into a ball, crying silently into his arms.

Until the Miraculous Cure lifted him off the roof not fifteen minutes later.