shanastoryteller · 22 days ago
Happy Holidays! 🎉 I was thinking about Zuko & Lu Ten bc they’re adorable and I love them 😍🎊
a continuation of 1 2 3 4
Zuko calls him Dad and it almost doesn't feel strange anymore. He never calls him Father, because that's what he'd called Ozai, and Lu Ten is glad for it.
"Do you ever think of settling down?" his captain asks him one day while they're all on deck. "Maybe finding a mother for your boy?"
Zuko is ten years old and arguing with a crewman four times his age about which way to angle the sail. He'd step in, except he thinks that Zuko might be right.
He didn't grow up with a mother. Besides, he doesn't know if he could stomach having a serious relationship with someone without telling them the truth, and that's something he can never, ever do. Even if he finds someone he trusts with his own safety, there's no one he'd trust with Zuko's.
"I'm at sea a lot," he says. "Get some more girls on this crew and maybe I will."
The captain laughs as Zuko throws up his hands and starts hauling himself up the rope, apparently determined to prove he's right himself if need be.
Being away from the palace has been good for him.
Over the years he's returned to the smart, energetic, stubborn boy he left and not the terrified, sad child he'd returned to.
He'd done the right thing by taking Zuko and himself away from the palace and he's not willing to endanger that.
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robininthelabyrinth · a year ago
NMJ is the only one that knows bc he’s the only one that NHS truly trusts, he’s the only one who knows why NHS focuses so much in painting and art, NHS doesn’t know why or how but with a little bit of spiritual energy he’s able to bring what he paints in paper to the real world and with that the Nie sect has the beasts of legends under their command
on ao3
“How about you draw a flower?” Nie Mingjue said without much conviction. It was hard to have conviction when you knew it was pointless.
“No!” Nie Huaisang shouted, unsurprisingly, because toddlers always shouted. They seemed to have a great deal of feelings and sound for such small frames. “Taotie!”
Nie Mingjue grimaced. “No, no, not Taotie,” he said quickly. Never Taotie, not again. “How about the Baihu? Nice fuzzy tiger?”
“Fenghuang? You like birds.”
Nie Huaisang considered it. “I like birds,” he agreed.
Nie Mingjue heaved a sigh of relief. “Me, too,” he said enthusiastically. “I love birds.”
He had never had especially strong feelings about birds, but he was willing to develop some.
“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, and patted his thigh comfortingly. “I’ll draw you a bird, da-ge.”
“…thanks,” Nie Mingjue said.
When Nie Huaisang was done, he proudly presented Nie Mingjue with the results of his work.
Nie Mingjue put the baby phoenix in the new aviary he’d secretly had constructed behind his father’s back, thinking to himself that the high-grade construction materials he’d insisted on were totally worth losing his allowance for the next year.
The phoenix chick - it looked like a plucked chicken with maybe three feathers total - weakly coughed smoke.
Because of course it did.
Sometimes Nie Mingjue wished that he could just tell someone about Nie Huaisang’s unusual gift – it was a pretty big burden to bear, and he really wasn’t sure he was old enough for this type of responsibility – but no one else deserved to know. If they didn’t have the good taste to like Nie Huaisang when he was no one and nobody, pointless and useless, they didn’t deserve the benefits of knowing him now that he could do stuff.
Even if it was weird stuff. 
Stuff like his ability to summoning the things he drew into existence. 
Even things that might not really exist.
Besides, the thought of Nie Huaisang getting wrapped up into war and politics when he was still so young –
No, better to just store away what he made and hope he grew out of it.
And no more Taoties.
“Lan Zhan said his uncle shows people his artwork,” Nie Huaisang said, sitting on Nie Mingjue’s table in the family study. “Why don’t you ever show my artwork?”
“You do art?” their father asked absently, most of his attention on the report he was reading.
“Huaisang does great calligraphy,” Nie Mingjue interjected very quickly. “You’ve seen it – it’s beautiful. And his poems are very well crafted, too.”
“But Lan Zhan said –”
Nie Mingjue mentally resigned himself to not being friends with Lan Xichen any longer, no matter how well they’d gotten along, on the basis that the other boy would probably take it personally when Nie Mingjue murdered his brother.
“He also said stuff about rules,” he said. “Hundreds and hundreds of rules. Do you want to listen to all of those, too?”
“No,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily, five years old and bitter with it. “But…”
“How about we show Lan Wangji your aviary?” Nie Mingjue coaxed. “Go ask him if he’d like to see it. I bet he’s never seen anything like that – and you can ask him what type of animal he likes best, too!”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at the thought and he dashed off.
“You spoil him far too much,” their father commented. “An aviary – you talk about it more than he does, and you’re always getting birds to fill it up for him, too. Why are you so devoted to him learning to like birds?”
“Better than him liking fierce beasts,” Nie Mingjue said, omitting to mention exactly where he obtained the birds that filled the aviary. “Or corpses.”
“If he liked fierce beasts, perhaps he’d be more martially inclined.”
No, we would be, Nie Mingjue thought. He’d gotten a lot of spare practice with Baxia trying to fight corpses that had no business being there during the period in which Nie Huaisang had gotten temporarily interested in the things in his father’s stories – and that was before Nie Huaisang had learned about yao.
“I don’t want him growing up morbid, that’s all,” he said.
“You’re his brother, not his nursemaid,” their father said, a little exasperated. “Nor are you his mother. Why are you fussing over him so?”
Nie Mingjue huffed and shook his head. “How goes recruitment for the border?” he asked instead, and listened to his father tell him about how people barely a year or two older than him were being sent to risk death in the name of sect honor.
Not Nie Huaisang, he promised himself. Not yet.
He’d tell his father when Nie Huaisang was old enough to handle the consequences.
“Huaisang, didi,” Nie Mingjue said, and tried to smile, even though it pained him. “Can you do me a favor? A really, really big favor?”
Nie Huaisang sniffed, clutching at his arms and shaking. “What, da-ge?”
“You remember Jiwei? A-die’s saber? Can you draw that for me, please?”
It only made it worse.
“Yes, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue asked, scowling at the map. It didn’t get any better the longer he looked at it, but maybe if he kept glaring he could cow it into submission.
“Don’t you want me to help?”
Nie Mingjue looked up at where Nie Huaisang was wringing his hands by the door. “Help? With what?”
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, like it was Nie Mingjue being dense instead of him having started a conversation in the middle. “Uh, with border defense?”
“Why would I ask you to help with that?” Nie Mingjue asked blankly, then realized how his words could be misconstrued. “Not that I wouldn’t ask you to help, of course, but you’ve never really liked battlefield strategy, and anyway you are only twelve –”
“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I meant drawing!”
“…as in maps?”
Nie Huaisang’s glare could light fires.
Nie Mingjue coughed and put aside his work to focus on his brother. “Huaisang, why do you think I would use your drawings in planning out a possible battle?”
“Because they’re useful?” Nie Huaisang said, crossing his arms. “I can make things appear, da-ge, just by drawing them. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but that’s not something that normal people can do.”
“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. “It’s not. But just because it’s not normal doesn’t mean it’s not a wonderful ability, Huaisang.”
Nie Huaisang looked a little bit appeased.
“But just because it’s wonderful doesn’t mean I’m going to abuse your ability,” Nie Mingjue continued. “You should be playing, not working, and if anyone tells you otherwise, you tell me and I’ll straighten them out.”
Nie Huaisang came up and hugged him. “So it’s not that you’re not ashamed of me being weird and useless?”
“I think we’ve already established that an ability like yours is far from useless. And I don’t care how weird you are, principles are principles: you’re too young to be used for battle. Sorry, Huaisang; my hands are tied.”
Nie Huaisang laughed at him and left, looking much happier.
“So what would you like?” Nie Huaisang asked, eyes sparkling. “Me and my brush are at the ready, here to help!”
Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “If you’re sure…”
“Da-ge! I’m seventeen – you were already sect leader for two years by my age. And it’s not like I’m going out there on the front lines or anything; I’m just going to draw some stuff for you.”
“You say ‘just’,” he grumbled. “It does drain your qi, you know. That’s why you took such a long time to form a golden core…”
“Yes, but I did get there eventually, didn’t I? And anyway, it’s fine, I’ll do it instead of my usual landscapes. What would you like? A dragon to devour our enemies? The white tiger, nipping at their heels? A taotie –”
“No Taotie.”
“You’re so weird about that,” Nie Huaisang complained, rolling his eyes again. “Fine. Then what?”
“Sabers,” Nie Mingjue said, giving in. “Standard steel, not spiritual. Horses, feed, saddles. Say, how are you at drawing arrows?”
“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “I can draw you the beasts of legend, and you want me to draw you arrows?”
“Yes. As many as you can bring yourself to create, really; everyone’s always short on arrows. More rice would be good, too –”
“This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting when I volunteered to help,” Nie Huaisang grumbled.
“Are you going to do it for me or not?” Nie Mingjue asked, unimpressed. “You asked me to use you, not to give you an art project.”
His brother heaved a sigh. “Yes, yes, I will. Can you explain to me why this is your choice, at least?”
Nie Mingjue ruffled his brother’s hair. “Huaisang, when you draw something, it comes to life. Fully to life, as a separate and independent creature of its own – if you draw a dragon, who’s to say that the dragon will choose to fight the Wen sect, instead of turning on us? It wouldn’t be much help if we had to run out, sabers drawn, to deal with whatever it was, only to be exhausted before the Wen sect even arrived.”
“When we’ve made some progress in the field, I promise to let you help build fortifications,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can start thinking of really nasty traps –”
“…is that why you hate the idea of me drawing Taotie so much?”
Nie Mingjue coughed.
“Don’t worry about it. It was always really good saber practice…”
“And if anyone tries anything against you at the camp, you draw something really mean, okay?” Nie Mingjue said, pressing paper and a brush into his brother’s hand in addition to the ones he’d hidden away in his luggage - there was a chance that might be confiscated upon his arrival. “I don’t care what it is.”
“I know, I know –”
“Promise me!”
“I will!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I promise already!”
“Not just if they’re aggressive. Even if things just look suspicious –”
“Suspicious? Like what?”
“If they take you somewhere secluded,” Nie Mingjue said, face drawn with worry. “Somewhere where it’d take us a long time to find your bodies. I don’t care if you put other people in danger from your creation, okay? Don’t make me have to find your corpse.”
Nie Huaisang was silent for a moment. “I understand,” he finally said. “I promise.”
“I’m never drawing anything legendary ever again,” Nie Huaisang sniffed into Nie Mingjue’s collar. “That Xuanwu was awful. It tried to eat all of us!”
“Do you want me to help with the logistics, Sect Leader Nie?” Meng Yao asked.
“You already help with the logistics,” Nie Mingjue said, not really paying attention. If it was serious, Meng Yao would bring it to his attention – he was a truly remarkable aide-de-camp. “You already help with everything.”
“I appreciate Sect Leader Nie’s confidence in me,” Meng Yao said, smiling a little. “But no, I meant – with the imports.”
“Every week we receive new shipments of goods – food, weapons, defenses – from Qinghe, and we don’t send any money back. Surely such expenditures are putting a strain on the Nie treasury..?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Nie Mingjue said. “Huaisang is handling it. It’s good for him to have responsibility.”
Meng Yao looked a little skeptical, but in his defense, he’d met Nie Huaisang.
“Really,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “He’s not going to hurt our budget – it’ll be fine. They’ve come steadily every week so far, haven’t they?”
“If Sect Leader Nie is content, then so am I,” Meng Yao said, but he was pouting a little, perhaps at the perceived lack of trust. He did so love to be helpful.
“You know I trust you with my life,” Nie Mingjue told him. “But this is something that Huaisang is, for once, best placed to handle. Don’t worry about it.”
It wasn’t really his secret to share, after all. Maybe when the war was done.
Nie Mingjue was on his back in the throne room of the Fire Palace, staring up at the man who murdered his father and who was about to murder him, too, when he heard the sound.
A high-pitched squeal, unlike anything else he’d ever heard – a little like a pig, a little like a wolf, a little like the long slow grate of metal against metal. It burned on the ear, a vile sound on the verge of being physically painful.
“What is that?” Wen Ruohan asked, frowning. He was standing above Nie Mingjue, his foot crushing down on his chest; Baxia was out of reach, knocked away, but at least no longer in the traitor Meng Yao’s hands. “Meng Yao…?”
“I - I’m not sure, Sect Leader Wen,” Meng Yao said, looking equally confused.
Nie Mingjue laughed.
They both looked at him.
He grinned up at them, blood in his teeth.
“What?” he said. “Never heard a Taotie before?”
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jasontoddiefor · 8 months ago
Okay but what if in the Medical Trauma Time Travel AU! The Force decided that it’s not taking any chances in whether or not Luke & Leia live so when it dumps Anakin in the past, it puts the baby twins with him :p so you’re in this scenario:
Anakin collapses suddenly after a battle and there next to him are two tiny babies that appeared out of fucking nowhere, the test say that biologically they’re his children :)
Obi Wan is losing his mind bc suddenly his Brother/Son has babies now and is in some sort of medical emergency for unknown reason
Anakin when he wakes up is going to lose his mind bc those are his children and he needs to protect them but he also needs to make sure that he doesn’t hurt them
Ps: This came to me bc I found the idea of a Obi Wan dealing with an Anakin that was suddenly 1- Traumatized af and 2- Desperately trying to protect two tiny children, hilarious and the right kind of sad
YEAH ABSOLUTE GENIUS! i’m an absolute sucker for kid fics and aah this has everything! Now I just imagine Obi-Wan sitting at Anakin’s sickbed while he’S still knocked out (for the third time. They wouldn’t risk it after the first time he woke up, but by now he’s calmed down) and he’s just waiting for an explanation, anything really.
He did pay attention to Qui-Gon’s prophecy rambles and he doesn’t remember Chosen Ones being capable of just force-magicking babies being there.
Anakin would be a hundred times more dedicated to taking Sidious down immediately and I imagine this would happen much quicker than in the actual verse. And hmm. Luke and Leia growing up in the creche? also 10/10.
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tossawary · 6 months ago
I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG
I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.
Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.
He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.
And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!
At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.
But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.
He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!
There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"
Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!
It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!
The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.
Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.
Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.
Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.
Then he met Yue Qingyuan.
Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.
Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.
But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.
Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”
As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.
Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.
Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!
Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.
Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!
On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.
At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.
He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.
Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.
Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.
Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!
Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.
Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.
It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)
No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.
After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.
So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!
Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.
It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.
Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”
He… may or may not have ignored this sign.
To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.
He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.
When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.
The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.
If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.
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amikoroyaiart · 8 months ago
So imagine: Cody learns that the sings of sleep deprivation™️ in Fox are only notorious by how well put together he looks, which prompts him to fuss and said something like “when was the last time you slept? You look like you’re about to fall over” when Fox just looks a lil messy to which Fox responds all nonchalant something like “three days ago, don’t make such a fuss :p hallucinations only start at day five and I only fall over at like day seven or eight” which results in one horrified Cody wrapping him in a blanket and making him sleep while he fusses like the overprotective brother he is
Ps: if you’re wondering if this scenario is me finding an excuse to wrap a tired Fox in a blanket and making him sleep tbh you’re correct :p
Ps 2: if you’re wondering why I’m sending this to you? It’s bc you made me care about Fox and also bc I thought you may appreciate the mental image
PLEASE I’ve been thinking about this ask my whole day omg.
See, everyone in GAR thinks that Corrie Guards have the easy job,are so lucky that they are on the planet all the time. But what they don’t know is that they do have their own kind of war, on the planet.
Cody knows his brother really well and even if Fox is master of covering how tired he is (he wars his dark bruises under his eyes with pride) Cody is not a fool. He notices other things like how his mischievous brother is becoming more serious, how he slowly separates himself from the others. And it worries him. He might not be often on the planet but when he is, he checks on Fox, even if Fox tells him he’s busy (which is almost every damn time he writes to him).  And he sees the mountain of datapads, the 4 mugs on his desk, the shadows under the eyes and messy hair and he just sights and uses his big bro voice to force Fox to rest. And it takes some time because Fox is a stubborn workaholic but Cody knows his ways. So it doesn’t matter that Cody is on his leave, that he should be resting after the fight and Obi Wan would be angry at him if he knew that he is working instead of resting. What matter is that he made his stubborn brother to rest in his cot, wrapped in a thin blanket with his arms around Cody’s middle while Cody is helping Fox with his datapads. Cody knows there is no other person better at being the head of Corrie Guards, he knows his brother is the best at his work. But if he has a chance, he is willing to help him. Fox is always looking after other corries but sometimes someone has to look after him too. 
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phoenixyfriend · 8 months ago
You were talking about crying Obi Wan & Tiny Children and my brain decided to combine them so hear this AU:
-Obi Wan just delivered Luke to the Lars when the Force decides that he needs to be in the past and bc honestly The Force hates him™️ he doesn’t travel back as an adult but is instead dumped into his body at the time he’s being sent back :p
-Bc I want Drama™️ Obi Wan is now a 6 year old child who now has memories of seeing everyone who he has ever loved die :) he also can’t deal with them bc no matter his mental age he still has the brain of a child so now he’s having a crying meltdown bc of Trauma™️
-Bc I want Qui Gon to dealt with this Baby!Obi Wan just “spontaneously” developed a training bond with him (idk if Xanathos already fell in here or what :p I honestly don’t care much about him). Qui Gon could get away with being mean to Obi Wan when he was 13 and about to get kicked out but I don’t think anyone would be okay with him treating a 6 year old who for all they know just had the Force Vision of the Millenium and it’s now traumatized af and randomly cries bc “Everyone dies and he was alone” with anything but kid gloves and also Baby-Wan is an adorable kid and Qui Gon is misguided but not intentionally bad and has a soft spot for small hurting things/creatures/kids and also the Force™️ clearly willed it
Ps: I love all your AU’s and I thought u would maybe like how they inspire me to make Obi Wan Suffer so he can heal :p
I went to Wookiepedia and it looks like Xanatos fell when Obi-Wan was four, which means Qui-Gon is quite feasibly mired in self-loathing and grief. I think Tahl’s still alive, though, so please imagine her gently bullying Qui-Gon into taking care of this Small Child.
(It’s a very good AU concept!)
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theheirofashandfire · 24 days ago
So I’ve decided that I want to tell you “thanks for sharing this amazing story with us” bc I re-read Thread recently and lost my mind a little with how good it was :D!
One of my favorite moments (I’ve a lot of favorite moments but this one is the one that has been going in repeat in my head for the past week) is when other people apart from the brothers and Fingon start to have those moments of “I remember different versions of this battle” and all of them start to like put the pieces together and they realize that “Maedhros literally died trying to save me in that one lifetime” or “I remember Maedhros holding the line with me again and again” and they start to like put together how much he has sacrificed for that victory and none of the Finweans realize this until someone literally points out to Maglor point blank but Maedhros by the end of that battle has literally won the undying loyalty of so many people :’D like I imagine that after everything is said and done that if anyone insults Maedhros in anyway so many people are going to have like a flashback to him dying for them or for someone they care about and just get ready to throw hands
Random nobody: *Says something slightly mean about Maedhros”
Elves that survived the Battle of unnumbered tears just bc Maedhros was there: What did u just say about our lord and savior Maedhros :)
It's a damn good thing that Maedhros is absolutely head-over-heels in love with Fingon, because the undying loyalty of everyone he fought beside in the battle would...uh...maybe...make a coup horribly easy to pull off.
The cycles and the time loop and the utter hell that Maedhros put himself through for everyone becomes a pretty poorly kept secret, and his military adore him to the point of slight lunacy at times, and I was just gonna leave it here but I'm not bc I have no self control and can't help myself.
"Excuse me? What did you say?"
The voice is cold, soft and right beside his ear. He jumps, and will admit to nobody in the retelling of this moment the undignified squeak that escaped his lips at the whisper of breath on his neck. Suddenly that courage that had come with being invited to Barad Eithel, bolstered by the wine in his hand, falters and curls up to whimper at the base of his stomach as he turns and sees the three people standing uncomfortably close to him.
He takes in thick fur cloaks in deep red and armour where the shine doesn't do anything to hide the scrapes and dents that only come with battle, boots still muddied at the edges, and then his gaze travels up to see three sets of military-style braids, feral grins, and eight-pointed stars resting at their throats.
He gulps. "Can I- can I help you?"
The middle soldier smiles widely. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," she says. "About the sudden increase in Fëanorians in your city?"
He gulps again. The people around him, who had until so recently appeared to hang on his every word, are slowly backing away and looking as if they had nothing to do with him. "I only meant that this city is a finite size," he says, his fingers starting to hurt where he's clutching the stem of his wine glass so tightly. "And that the sudden influx of soldiers, such as yourselves, is taking up space we don't really have."
"Ah." The soldier on the left hums. "And when, precisely, did you arrive in the city? Because I swear I remember seeing you in a caravan arriving only last week." They tilt their head to one side. "Do you have a sibling, perhaps?"
He clears his throat. "I recently arrived to aid the High King, yes, in important matters of trade with-"
"Ah!" the third soldier exclaims. "You're one of Caranthir's new lackeys! I knew I recognised you from somewhere."
He bristles in indignation, and immediately the three soldiers' gazes snap straight to him. "I have worked alongside Caranthir Fëanorion, yes," he says, trying to ignore the weight of their stares. "But I work for the High King."
"So does everyone in this city," the first soldier says. "It doesn't make you special. And it certainly doesn't give you the right to talk about your King like we just heard."
He gulps. "I hold High King Fingon in the highest regard, I assure you-"
"Not what she said." The second soldier steps forwards, resting their elbow on their companion's shoulder with an easy grin. "Would you like to remind us all exactly what it is that you said about our general?"
The wine glass is shaking slightly in his hand. "I- ah, I don't- I didn't say anything- I meant no disrespect, none whatsoever- I-"
"Let me remind you," the third soldier says, his voice suddenly low. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the sound. "After all, you seemed so incredibly concerned about the effect that a northern warlord, a savage as you so called him, was having on this bastion of culture and civilisation." All three of them suddenly look a moment away from drawing weapons, and he tries to take a subtle step back. "Have you ever been to Himring?"
He gulps again. "No- no, I have not."
"So," the first soldier asks, "do you know anything about the culture of Himring and the Eastern Marches? Do you know, for example, which songs belong in the circle, when to share your bread and with whom? The significance of the four-strand plait each one of us wears in our hair, or why we wear deep red cloaks when our general wears scarlet? What do we call the darkest part of the night when the fires burn low, and what do we sing to keep it at bay?"
"Perhaps a visit would be in order," the second says. They step forwards, in front of their two companions, and smooth down the front of his robes with a careful gesture. He gulps, again, suddenly very aware of the calluses on their fingers that catch on the silk, the swords at all three of their hips. "Before you open your mouth again and say something that you regret."
"Of- yes, of course. Of course," he blurts out. "Won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't." The soldier pats his chest. "See, those of us who actually fought in the Galad Lain, who fought alongside our general and saw his sacrifices for us, we hold him in the very highest of regards. Don't we?"
"I held the line alongside him in the vanguard," the first soldier says, her grin suddenly vanished and replaced with a solemn expression that makes her look ancient. "He saved my life. Everyone who walked away from that battle, they owe their lives to him. And you don't even know."
"You weren't there," the third adds. "You cannot possibly understand. So. Watch your tongue. Before someone takes offence than us, and decides to do something...drastic."
The second soldier, still standing nose to nose with him, smiles at him, and a bead of sweat drips down his temple. "Take care," the soldier says, giving his chest a final pat. He wonders if they can feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. "We'll see you around, I'm sure of it."
They turn and leave, the crowd parting for their dark red cloaks and eight pointed stars. When they finally disappear from view, he breathes out a shaky sigh. The people he had been talking to are long since gone.
Downing his entire glass of wine in a few hurried gulps, he decides it might be a good idea to find some new friends.
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captainkirkk · a year ago
To be honest the philosopher stone! Aang Au it's practically Canon, isn't it? Aang can talk with his past life's and learn from them in Canon when he's in the Avatar state or decides to meditate or something
Except in this AU :) it’s the souls of his dead people :) who were victims of genocide instead of dying naturally :) and who were forcibly shoved inside him :)
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winepresswrath · a year ago
What are some of the assumptions that the fandom makes that really, really makes you want to correct them?
It’s less that I want to correct them and more that they’re just making a different set of assumptions from the ones I’m making. The worldbuilding is pretty thin, but I mostly got the impression that Sect Leaders have a huge amount of functionally unchecked power so long as something remains an in-house problem. So like, in terms of the justice system, I keep running into the idea that there is a robust set of intersect laws that everyone is expected to follow and enforce, and that the sects would all agree on, for example, what counts as murder, and we just don’t happen to see much of that justice system functioning in canon. Which is fine! I just wound up going in the other direction and getting the impression that Sect Leaders can pretty much do whatever so long as they don’t offend anyone outside of their clan enough to summon an angry mob or provoke one of their subordinates into murdering them.
Jin Guangshan has the right to tell Jiang Cheng it’s cool that Wei Wuxian killed a bunch of his cultivators without any kind of trial or investigation. Mingjue himself seemed good to go on executing Meng Yao without a trial, and given what a stickler he is I don’t think it’s  likely that was illegal for him to do. JGS also wound up in charge of Xue Yang’s trial and sentencing, so clearly Sect Leaders can act as judges and it’s probably a normal part  of their job. Sometimes they just decide not to bother, and that’s their prerogative. Lan Dad unilaterally took charge of sentencing in a case where he had a very clear conflict of interest and dared anyone in his clan to say shit about it, and it seems like they did not take him up on that dare. Wei Wuxian can break whatever rules he feels like in the Cloud Recesses because Lan Wangji says so and Xichen supports the Wangxian agenda.
There are some important shared taboos (no incest, no patricide, don’t kill anyone important and try to minimize killing people who are important to important people), and if another Sect Leader takes issue with how you handle sentencing and witnesses (hi Xue Yang!) and they’re sufficiently powerful they can bring political pressure on you to change your verdict, but the only enforcement we see is pretty lackadaisical. Jin Guangyao’s downfall doesn’t come about because there’s a rule everyone has agreed to follow that says “if a sect leader commits incest AND patricide AND kidnaps our kids to lure us to zombie mountain before sealing all our magic powers then we form the mob and take him out.” Those things combined just pissed off everyone enough to get them in a violent dethroning mood. As Wei Wuxian points out, the same thing basically happened to him. The more powerful you are the less likely it is that anyone is going to want to risk assembling an army take you on, which is how WRH got to literally burn down a major sect and then demand that everyone send their kids to evil summer camp at his house.
TL;DR I think their justice system basically amounts to
what does the relevant sect leader want to do
is anyone powerful enough to stop them
does anyone powerful enough want to stop them
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red-talisman · a year ago
So I’ve been having Yummeng brothers feelings and I’m crying bc at no point (until the JYL situation) do they really stop trying to be there for each other, uh? They love each other and want to be close and be family but everything else keeps fucking it up and they try harder until it just isn’t enough, uh?
You are absolutely not alone in this particular Pit of Despair, oh my gods, pretty sure that anyone who doesn’t hate JC is by default in this Pit with us, and that’s not even getting into the dynamic with Jiang Yanli, which is a whole other realm of oft-overlooked Pain.
I can only speak to CQL canon and it’s been a hot second since I watched it, but like, JC and WWX seem to be this kind of really tragic dynamic in that they both want the same thing (family! Safety! Stability!) but their ways of coping and expressing are seemingly just designed to run counter to each other. Like, I bet WWX capitalized on the lighthearted charisma for a whole bunch of reasons*, one of which was as a way of keeping JC occupied/distracted or providing a target for irritation which wasn’t pain from his parents.
*(Other potential reasons: 1) smiling children are Loved More than non-smiling children, right? 2) If I pretend it doesn’t hurt then I can pretend it doesn’t matter, and also 3) no one can see you bleeding out on the inside! And so on.)
But! There’s a time and a place for that kind of behavior, right? And at the wrong times, those things can feel like dismissiveness, getting brushed off, feeling ignored or treated like you don’t matter. And I think that’s part of the foundation for all the misunderstandings: WWX cares! So much! But speaking as someone whose personality is rather closer to JC’s than I care to admit, there are so many scenes where I want to force WWX to just physically and emotionally hold still for five damn seconds - if someone acted towards me the way WWX sometimes does towards JC, I would legitimately lose my shit. But that kind of approach flies in the face of what’s become the deeply embedded coping/survival mechanisms of a traumatized child-turned-more-traumatized-teen, and that can be legitimately triggering**!
**(I’m using it in the clinical sense, yes.)
And JC! My dude. Bruh. I get it but if you could just chill for the same five fucking seconds that WWX is pinned down so he can’t pull an emotional airbender technique, you might actually get somewhere. ಥ_ಥ Although I’m pretty sure that half the time you’re reacting with actual temper and not just baby sibling irritability, it’s coming from a place of people-pleasing desperation and/or a similar kind of self-protective ‘if I hide my vulnerability then it can’t be used against me anymore’ reflex.
And the harder that either of them tries, without having been taught the skills to look beyond the immediacy of their own traumas and bad coping to see where the other is coming from, the deeper they seem to unintentionally keep slicing into each other until there’s just too much blood to keep their grip on the other.
And I’m SO MAD because despite those differences, I feel like they STILL could have made their relationship work if they hadn’t had like 13+ years of being used as tools for their parents to punish each other/themselves, and then gone straight into an adulthood of war and politics where the most powerful people are actively, determinedly invested in splitting them apart by pushing real hard right onto those bleeding wounds.
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shanastoryteller · a month ago
Happy Halloween! Can I ask for some more SIAT Percy/Tonks or just some more Percy being awesome?
Ps: Love everything you write
Percy gets his first job out of Hogwarts and realized three things very, very quickly.
Firstly, the Department of International Magical Co-operation deals with incredibly boring, minute details such as ensuring foreign officials that are set to meet share a common language that isn't Latin or that there's a translator present, that internationally traded goods comply with standards of both the country exporting it and the one importing it, and making sure someone doesn't connect the British floo somewhere that will piss off someone off.
Secondly, that these little, boring details are of supreme importance. Their department is the first line of defense against international economic and political disaster. If people can't understand one another, someone will leave offended or confused, and that grudge will be nursed and exploited later. Imported goods that can't be sold are a loss the business selling and buying, and commissioning goods that cant' be sold in their home country will only encourage that country to apply heavy fees to the export, since they're effectively taking those goods out of circulation in their home market. Not honoring other countries borders in small ways like transportation, even in countries they're allowed to pop in and out of, means that those countries won't enforce compliance with their own transportation laws, which is how portkey and floo bans happen which will cause economic and relationship strife for at least a decade.
Thirdly, the department is being run into the ground through neglect and incompetence.
Barty Crouch Senior was an extremely effective head of Magical Law Enforcement and is an utterly abysmal Head of International Magical Co-operation. What works on criminals does not work on foreign dignitaries and bureaucrats.
Percy can either do things as he's told or he can do them correctly.
He got twelve perfect Os on both his Owls and his Newts.
He is not someone who does things incorrectly.
Crouch doesn't pay attention to the small, vital aspects of his position. So he doesn't notice when Percy takes them over.
Other people, however, absolutely do.
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robininthelabyrinth · a year ago
NHS has dreams about the future but every time he changes something or saves someone he has to suffer the pain that they would have felt, there’s a war coming and he has seen the consequences of it how does he cope and how does NMJ feel about all of this.
“Shh,” Nie Mingjue murmured, running his fingers through his brother’s hair. “Shh, shh. Don’t cry.”
“But it hurts, da-ge. It hurts.”
“I know,” Nie Mingjue said, and hated whatever fate had given his brother the ability to see the future. Oracles went mad, most of the time. It was better to be a diviner or a fortune-teller, using tortoise shells or bones to figure out the future, than it was to use yourself as the medium – under the weight of the future, tortoise shells cracked and bones splintered; why should the body be any different?
His poor, miserable little brother.
He’d thought it was just the aches and pains of growing up at first, and then migraines of the sort he’d heard other people had – he was barely more than a child himself, and it was easy to accept things as just being a certain way, rather than try to change them. It wasn’t until Nie Huaisang started complaining to him, whispered confidences late at night, that he started figuring out what was happening.
The pain would always follow a dream, though it wouldn’t always – the dream would be a description of some event in the future, often just a little bit wrong, but not always.
It wasn’t until he started writing down all of Nie Huaisang’s dreams and the instance of pain that he realized that the pain only ever followed the dream when the dream was wrong.
No, wrong wasn’t the right word. When the dream was averted.
Specifically, when Nie Huaisang averted it.
Nie Mingjue gritted his teeth and got Nie Huaisang’s agreement to test it out – he bribed him with candy and more fans, which at Nie Huaisang’s age was about all it took – and in the end he figured it out.
If Nie Huaisang had one of those dreams, he was seeing the future as it currently was, time flowing smooth and easy like a river in its bed.
If he did nothing and let the future go, nothing happened. No pain, nothing.
If he took action and changed things –
It was like averting a river by building a dam, a dam against which the mighty waters of the rivers pounded furiously against before reluctantly seeking another path – only this was a dam built of flesh and blood and bones. It took a great deal of effort and strain to accomplish such a change, and was painful and unnatural when it did.
“It’ll be all right,” Nie Mingjue said.
Nie Huaisang looked up at him with wide wet eyes. “It will? How?”
“It doesn’t hurt when you don’t change things,” Nie Mingjue told him. “So you’re not going to change anything.”
Nie Huaisang frowned a little, not quite understanding.
“You need to study saber enough to form your golden core,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking it out. “And to have basic self-defense skills – but you probably don’t need to do more than that. I’m the heir, so I can handle sect politics if necessary, and we can get one or two cousins to join in our lessons to make sure we have enough people to handle things.”
“But then what do I do?”
“Nothing. You sit and enjoy life, doing as you please – whatever makes you happy, didi. I’ll buy you fans and paint, you can write poetry, you can travel to see places…”
“Won’t father be upset?”
“I’ll talk to him,” Nie Mingjue said. He’d figure out what to say to convince him – they’d both agreed that telling their father directly would probably be a bad idea, because he might want to use it for the sect, and then poor Nie Huaisang would crack into even more pieces than he was already. “You keep it quiet, and use it only when it’s serious, okay? Life-and-death only.”
Nie Huaisang nodded hesitantly. “But…da-ge…”
“I think there’s a war coming,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “It’s one of the dreams that’s far away, not right nearby; the ones that don’t hurt only because anything I do now isn’t enough to really be a direct reason for change – there’s a war coming. People are going to die, lots of people. Won’t I have to do something then?”
“Who’s the war against?”
Nie Huaisang wrinkled his nose at Nie Mingjue. “The Wen sect. Who else?”
It was a pretty obvious question, Nie Mingjue acknowledged. After all, his brother’s pain this evening was due not to a little change, but a big one, the change rattling his bones: their father was meant to go to a dinner with Wen Ruohan, to show him his saber to compare it with the one Wen Ruohan had recently received as a gift, and Nie Huaisang had panicked, running to Nie Mingjue and demanding he stop it from happening, stop their father from going, telling him that their father would die if he went.
(They’d found that it hurt him less when the only change he made was telling someone – telling Nie Mingjue, specifically. That made a change, yes, but only a small one, one that wasn’t too painful, and everything that happened afterwards was Nie Mingjue changing things.
You can only control your own actions, after all.)
Nie Mingjue had broken his own wrist to stop his father from leaving, and now Nie Huaisang was shuddering through the pain of it all as a consequence – the unutterable agony of a saber breaking, the way he described it, and Nie Mingjue felt more pain at the description, at the thought of what it would have done to their father, than he did at the throbbing of his arm.
No more.
No more.
“I just wanted to be sure,” Nie Mingjue said, his mind ticking along. “It’s not that I didn’t already know, you know; I just hadn’t thought about it.”
He’d been so focused on the small things, his brother’s now chronic pain and what it was doing to him, that he’d overlooked the big picture. He’d forgotten that his brother was Nie, same as him; defeat evil no matter the cost was their motto, their purpose and their watchword. Nie Huaisang would not be able to simply stand aside and let things happen, not when he had the chance to change things.
He would continue to interfere. He would continue to be hurt.
Nie Mingjue wasn’t willing to accept that. He was a Nie, too, and his brother’s suffering was the greatest evil he could imagine – worse than Wen Ruohan and his tyranny and his strange searching eyes, worse than war and their father’s death and everything else all rolled up together.
The war wasn’t news to him, and it was too far away for anything Nie Huaisang did to make a difference.
That didn’t mean the same was true of Nie Mingjue.
“Don’t worry,” he said, already thinking of how long it would take him to get the Nightless City. He and Wen Xu didn’t get along about anything – not that surprising, given the difference in their ages – but he knew the man was ambitious, that he felt quashed by his father’s overwhelming domination, how much he longed to be his own master.
If Nie Mingjue came to the Nightless City to assassinate his father, Wen Xu would help him.
He would close his eyes to what Nie Mingjue was doing and, if he was successful, let him off without demanding his life in return. Hardly filial, but then filial piety wasn’t really something the Wen sect cared all that much about, not in comparison with how they felt about power.
And without Wen Ruohan, there wouldn’t be a war. Wen Xu thought highly of himself, but he wasn’t half the man his father was – for better or for worse.
Best of all, it wouldn’t be a change made by Nie Huaisang, except only at most indirectly. It would be made by Nie Mingjue, by himself, based on knowledge he already had – knowledge of the war, knowledge of his brother’s pain – and therefore couldn’t be attributed to his brother’s knack for the future. His brother would be safe from the agonizing pain of trying to avert war.
“Don’t worry, didi,” Nie Mingjue said again. “As long as I’m here, I’ll make sure that everything will be all right.”
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words-writ-in-starlight · 8 months ago
For the ask game: You’re that blog that destroyed my heart with that evil post canon NMJ comes back one shot (You know which one I’m talking about :p)
I mostly follow you know bc you reblog things that interest me and every once in a while come with amazing ideas about a lot of my favorite fandoms but you will always be remembered by that One shot™️
Truly, nothing makes me happier than being identified as “oh, you’re the one who wrote [incredibly upsetting thing], fuck you”, thank you so much.
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willowcrowned · 8 months ago
Okay, but imagine: for some reason Luke & Leia were being raised by Obi-Wan but something went wrong (idk what) and long story short Old!Obi-Wan is dead and the twins (around 9 or 10 years old) are in the past around the time Qui Gonn is still alive bc I want him to have to deal with two tiny adorable and traumatized children who:
1- Have latched onto Obi-Wan bc he may look a lil different but he still feels a lot like the man that was raising them before he was murdered
2- Keep insisting that he can’t be a Jedi bc the Jedi’s Order and consequently all the Jedi except Ben but that’s a secret were killed and are being hunted down by the Empire :v
Luke & Leia while hugging and hiding behind Obi-Wan: You can’t be a Jedi :) Everyone knows that the Jedi are extinct
Qui Gonn Jinn who just saw this children appear: Excuse Me! The Jedi are what?
Luke & Leia: They were killed by the Empire after the Clone Wars :p
Qui Gon: The what!! War?
Obi-Wan, whispering quietly: if I don’t move maybe the children will release me
3- Have some really weird skill set in the Force that can be divided into two categories: disappearing completely and impossible bullshit
4- Appeared out of thin air in front of him
5- The Force is very protective of (and keeps practically screaming at everyone to protect them)
:p (idk if he has found Anakin yet)
Ps: This idea has been bouncing around my brain for like two days and I needed to tell someone about it
I’ve been reading the jedi apprentice series lately, so let’s have it take place right after Qui-Gon takes Obi-Wan as his apprentice. 
Qui-Gon, at this point, does not want to care about anyone. For the first two books, his solution to having to talk to Obi-Wan is to try to toss him as far away as possible and run in the opposite direction. (It’s hilarious.) But here’s the thing— Qui-Gon likes kids. He tries not to— he really does, even going so far as to be, well, a bit of a dick about it— but he likes them.
So when two kids pop out of thin air like a gift from the Force, attach themselves to his new apprentice, and are, generally speaking, the cutest and scariest things he’s ever seen, he’s going to start caring about them. And he’s going to hate it.
(Also, I know you said they’re nine or ten, but nine and ten year olds are pretty aware of themselves and their place in the world. They’re not going to be confused about where they are— they’re going to figure out that they’re in the past. So instead I suggest that Luke and Leia are 5-6 years old: cute, cuddly, full of weird one-liners, and not aware enough of what’s going on to answer any questions.)
Qui-Gon’s first instinct is going to be to dump them at the Temple and run. (Like I said— he doesn’t want to start caring about these cute little kids, with their round little smiling faces and big shining eyes and oh god oh fuck he’s starting to care about them what’s he gonna do.) This of course means that he, Obi-Wan, and the twins must get stuck in a variety of shenanigans that makes him be around them for as long as possible.
“Master,” a thirteen year old Obi-Wan says, half a day into the shenanigans, “can we please get the younglings off of me now?”
Qui-Gon turns around to see a babie-shaped Obi-Wan with two even MORE babie-shaped attachments. He doesn’t die on the spot, but it’s a near thing.
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tossawary · a year ago
So I was thinking about the last chapter of PINTWILF and loosing my mind bc 1 - I was crying about Shen Jiu and his tragic everything ™️ and 2- thinking about the fact that SQH just revealed to him and YQY that he knows™️ a lot more than he lets on like nobody was supposed to know those secrets and SQH was like so here’s what happened :)
SVSSS SPOILERS. And spoilers for the latest chapters of my fic.
I think that Yue Qingyuan’s Xuan Su sword secret couldn’t really have been as secret as all that. I mean, I think Yue Qingyuan is the only one currently around who knows the full story (besides Shang Qinghua), but I personally headcanon that other people around the sect had to have at least pieces of the secret. 
Like, who was there when Yue Qingyuan came out with that broken sword? Who forced him back into those caves? Who treated him afterwards? 
So I’d say that the previous sect leader had to know. I’d also say that the Qian Cao Peak Lord and the Wan Jian Peak Lord of the time might have known parts of what happened in order to treat Yue Qingyuan and to maybe examine the Xuan Su sword respectively. Did the Qian Cao Peak Lord pass on anything specific about Yue Qingyuan’s health to Mu Qingfang? Did the Wan Jian Peak Lord pass on any warnings about the Xuan Su sword to Wei Qingwei? Those men would have had assisting cultivators and disciples who might have been in the right place at the right time to know something! 
So it’s not actually totally implausible that Shang Qinghua might have noticed all of these different puzzle pieces and made a really good guess. Nor is it implausible that he was in the right place at the right time to hear an argument between Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Or that he spoke to various people who heard snatches of arguments! 
What’s weird is that he knows about the Qiu Estate. Did he track Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu’s movements back to that estate, then ask lots of questions of the locals? Why would he do that? He must be up to something. 
Fortunately, at this point, Yue Qingyuan only knows that Shang Qinghua knows about the Xuan Su sword. Shen Qingqiu, however, knows that Shang Qinghua knows even more than that. 
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fixaidea · 8 months ago
I didn’t realize that you were reading Erha until now? How are you finding it? In what part are you (I was gonna say chapter but I’m not sure if I know them well enough to understand if u only say a number :p) in?
It was just mask-off time for Hua Binan, Shi Mei just got blinded, we found out that Mo Ran is a Nangong relative and Taxian-Jun himself just showed up. All that in like two chapters. :,D
Honestly, I really like it so far. Sure, you need a firmer stomach for it than MDZS, but all in all I think I over-braced myself. In regards of violence, sex and questionable relationships I’d put it in the same category as ASoIaF, but Erha is vastly superior in terms of emotional impact. (At least for me.)
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witchmd13 · a year ago
So do you want to talk about how Arthur Pendragon is touch starved af with me? Or tell me something else about Merthur bc I’m having feelings about them :p
oh gosh I literally wrote an entire fanfic about touch starved Arthur! he breaks my heart so much because I think he just doesn’t know how touch starved he is. He’s never been touched affectionally, royal person and all that, but also no mother to hug him, and certainly no father to care enough about anything but bringing up a prince who knows nothing but how to kill when necessary and how to rule alone with no help from anyone. Bless Merlin’s heart (and later Gwen’s) for coming along and trying to change that, and later for understanding that half hearted shoves, awkward pats on the arm and “horseplay” were the only way Arthur knew how to show affection. 
Arthur had such a big heart and it was mostly what got him in trouble. He trusts too easily, loves too easily, because he was never shown that love growing up.  He’s prone to letting anger cloud his judgment a lot and he’s too hasty at times, yes, but it all comes from having such a good heart to begin with (and he grew too much later in the series and to deal with all that emotional trauma must’ve been hell). It’s that heart that got him in trouble all the time, trusting Agravaine and blaming himself for Morgana are too primary examples. Just watch every scene he had with Morgana after she flipped against Camelot. Gosh, watch her death scene, he had tears in his eyes the moment she started talking about watching him die. Also Mordred literally managed to stab him only because Arthur hesitated when he saw who it was that approached him.
It’s like that fleabag quote, I think you know how to love better than all of us, that's why you find it all so painful.
Arthur Pendragon was a touch starved idiot, but he had the biggest heart out of everyone in that show except maybe Merlin and he deserved so much better.
thank you for this ask I would never get tired talking about touch starved Arthur or merthur </3
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queenofmoons67 · a year ago
If you’re still taking prompts “Blankets/Shirt Collar Shifting Just Enough To Have Bandages Peeking Out” for the Nie brothers, preferably if it’s Nie Huaisang that it’s hurt and kinda trying to hide it. Ps: I love your writing and it’s completely okay if u don’t want to write this prompt or if u want to but come with something different :p
thank you so much! i hope you like what i came up with (i’ll admit, the first time i read the prompt, i was so overwhelmed with ideas i had to just. set it aside for a bit, because i couldn’t process them all at once :’) )
Nie Huaisang adjusted his outer robes, making sure they were snug around his torso, and peered around the corner.
He had returned to the Unclean Realm from the Nightless City a scant few days before, and he had been avoiding Da-ge for most of it. Nie Huaisang had had to greet him at the entrance, of course, and Da-ge was also enforcing family meals—but beyond that, if Da-ge could be avoided, then Da-ge was avoided.
Snapping his fan open in front of his face to hide his head shake, Nie Huaisang moved down the corridor. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be with his da-ge, but it couldn’t be helped.
Nie Mingjue, Leader of the Nie Sect, had sent his heir to be a willing hostage of Wen Ruohan. He had been pressured by Wen Ruohan himself, the Nie elders, and the responsibilities Nie Mingjue held to more than just his own immediate family. But that didn’t mean that Nie Huaisang’s da-ge wouldn’t blame himself if he knew the full truth of what happened in the Nightless City—or rather, just outside of it.
Only the disciples who had accompanied Nie Huaisang there knew that he had been injured while in the cave, tripping headlong into a Wen disciple trying to sneak up on Wei-xiong and taking an arrow through the shoulder. The arrow itself had stemmed the blood flow until they were out of the cave. Worried Nie disciples had been able to bandage it once they were well out of the Nightless City, but it was still deep enough that more than a week later, Nie Huaisang was still healing.
The last thing Nie Huaisang wanted was to be confronted with a Da-ge stumbling around the Unclean Realm, all uncoordinated from guilt like dry, flaky paint. So he swore the Nie disciples to silence, stole medical supplies from the medical room, and avoided Da-ge—
Up until now, that is, Nie Huaisang reflected, staring up at his Da-ge’s pinched brow.
Resisting the urge to snap his fan open and closed again, Nie Huaisang beamed up at his da-ge. “Hello!” he chirped.
“Huaisang,” Da-ge said. His eyes didn’t leave Nie Huaisang’s, and the younger rallied himself with the reminder that at least that meant Da-ge wasn’t looking at Nie Huaisang’s shoulder. Even if he was making him very uncomfortable.
“Can I help you?” he asked, carefully side-stepping around Da-ge and down the hall, till he was still looking back at his da-ge but was also slowly walking backward. “Only, I was about to—”
“What are you up to, Didi?” Da-ge asked, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Have not!”
“Have to! Didi, you usually can’t leave me alone when we reunite. Now you can’t bear to be around me. Why? Have—is it something I did?”
Nie Huaisang had been about to remind his dear da-ge that he only called him ‘didi’ when he wanted something—and in the process, hopefully remind himself; the technique really was too effective—but when he heard the last question, he stopped.
“I—Da-geee—” he dragged out. “Of course not! You’re Da-ge.”
Da-ge cocked an eyebrow, clearly not believing him, and—Nie Huaisang held back a sigh. Da-ge had started to slump, and he refused to let his da-ge turn into dry, flaky paint.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Stepping forward, Nie Huaisang pulled Da-ge into a hug, quickly releasing him so he didn’t get even more suspicious. He felt Da-ge relax for a moment, but then he tensed again as they pulled apart.
“What?” Nie Huaisang blinked innocently at him.
“Why is your shoulder bandaged?”
Nie Huaisang looked down at himself and resisted the urge to curse. His robes had opened just enough to reveal the tell-tale white of bandages. It had probably happened when he hugged Da-ge, too.
Laughing weakly, Nie Huaisang pulled his robes back into place and, widening his eyes up at his da-ge, said, “It’s nothing! I just strained myself earlier trying to climb into a good spot for a new view, that’s all. And as you can see, it’s already been bandaged and—”
Nie Huaisang yelped, twisting to try and avoid grasping hands.
“Da-ge! What are you doing?!”
“Stand—still—” Da-ge grunted, still trying to grab his robes. “I know you’re hiding something, Huaisang! You never climb anywhere, you get someone to fly you up!”
Nie Huaisang darted down the hall and ran smack into something solid. Hands settled on his shoulders, and he looked up with a sigh into the concerned eyes of Nie Zonghui.
“Hi, Da-shixiong,” he said weakly. “How are you today?”
“I’m good,” Nie Zonghui said. His eyes met Nie Huaisang’s for only a moment before they slid over his shoulder, and then back again. “Are you?”
“He’s injured,” Da-ge interjected impatiently, stepping up beside them so that together, they hemmed Nie Huaisang in against the wall. “But he won’t admit it.”
“I did too!”
“You lied about the how!”
“You—!” Nie Huaisang’s hands flexed, and he wished he could strangle his stubborn da-ge—but then the flex pulled at his muscles, all the way up his arm to his shoulder, and he groaned, good hand grabbing at his shoulder to massage it before he could think better of the motion.
Now he had Da-ge and Nie Zonghui staring at him, eyebrows furrowed. None of his lessons had ever included anything about how to resist the worried looks of brothers who just want to bury you in blankets, and that was clearly a mistake. He would have to rectify the issue immediately.
Immediately after he dealt with these two, anyway.
“Fine,” Nie Huaisang sighed. He looked away, unwilling to meet Da-ge’s eyes as he hurt him. “I got shot on a night hunt when I was in the Nightless City. But it’s fine, I’ve been taking care of it, and—“
Nie Huaisang cried out, startled, as his da-ge literally swept him off his feet.
“You’re getting seen by our doctors,” Da-ge said, carting him off down the hall. “And you’ll sit still, and you won’t protest. And if they say it’s ok for your to be up and about, then you can be—but if they say bed rest, then you will rest. Understood?”
“Understood,” Nie Huaisang grumped. His da-ge was holding him tight to his chest, with absolutely no wiggle room. Unless Nie Zonghui decided to help him make a break for it—and judging by the amusement on his face when he looked at Nie Huaisang, that wasn’t likely—then Nie Huaisang was going to see a doctor.
He’s already told his da-ge the truth, anyway. Seeing the evidence wouldn’t change anything. Slumping and crossing his arms, Nie Huaisang studied his da-ge. He—he didn’t look too upset? His brow was still furrowed, and his lips were down turned, but he looked like that half the time anyway.
“Are you—ok?”
Da-ge stopped and finally looked down at him. “Is that why you didn’t tell me?”
Nie Huiasang blinked. “Is what?”
“You didn’t tell me the truth because you thought I wouldn’t be ok?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Nie Huaisang caught Nie Zonghui edging down the hall and out of sight. But—
“I—yes? Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang fumbled, “you have so much going on, and—“
“Huaisang, you’re my didi. I’m upset that you got hurt after I had to send you to be a hostage, but I’m more upset that you weren’t trustful with me. How can I protect you if you don’t tell me things?”
“But Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang cried. “What if that’s the only way for me to protect you?”
“Then you hurt me,” Da-ge said, starting to walk again. “And we get through it, because we’re brothers.”
“But what if it’s not that simple?”
“We’re brothers,” Da-ge repeated. “Whether it’s simple or complicated, we’ll get through it. But you have to trust me, Huaisang.”
“I do, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, blinking back tears. When had he started crying? “I won’t lie to you again.”
Da-ge didn’t say another word the entire way to the doctor—but he did reach up and wipe away Nie Huaisang’s tears, and rubbed his shoulder, and let him hide his face in Da-ge’s robes.
Go here for more hurt/comfort prompts to send me! All I need is at least one prompt selection and two characters!
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bloody-bee-tea · a year ago
So I want to suffer bc an AU in which JC died instead of JYL the day everything went wrong :) I’ve had this AU stuck on my head for awhile but I never let myself think too much about it bc it hurts but I want to hear your hc :p
1. Jiang Yanli kneels with her brother’s body in her lap and has to watch as her other brother finally succumbs to all that he did and what happened and has to watch him fling himself off a cliff.
2. When she gets back to Jinlintai she demands to see Jin Ling and then she spends the better part of a month grieving everyone she lost. She’s very lucky that despite everything she has support in this Sect.
3. One month is enough, she decides almost out of the blue and bundles up Jin Ling before she very firmly tells Madam Jin that she’ll be going back to Lotus Pier. When she arrives there, a small brawl between the smaller Sects has already started, because they all want to take over Lotus Pier.
4. Jiang Yanli reminds them very gently that it’s her family that ruled and with her back now, it’s still her family that rules. The other Sect Leaders are not impressed, but Lotus Pier stands behind Jiang Yanli, so they can’t really do anything. For now.
5. Jiang Yanli is known as a gentle and just person. She’s also known for the steel beneath her cutting words, and the easy flick of a wrist, accompanied by a sparkling purple.
6. She rebuilds Lotus Pier. She takes in disciples. She knows her strength and cultivation is not it, but she is a good judge of character and there is no shortage of people who want to teach at Lotus Pier. She builds a strong Sect.
(7. There are eight days in the year (five birthdays and three death days) where she is absolutely unavailable for everyone. Those are the days she spends breaking apart.)
[Send me an AU]
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ibijau · a year ago
You know that I find funny when people say something about how bad NHS was? bc I think that he really could have been far worse like my boy could have really taken far more damaging paths towards revenge in which he fucked everyone over but he cared about the collateral damage in all the ways he could during that time :p and there’s also the fact that in that world? he’s one of the people who have the least amount of blood in their hands :p
nhs could have been so, so much worse. I mean, not to say that what he did was all sunshine and flowers! but honestly, you could argue that he probably attempted to have as few deaths as possible.
There are only three deaths that were unavoidable for his revenge plan: Mo Xuanyu, Su She, and Jin Guangyao. Qin Su is collateral damage but nhs had no way to know for certain how she’d react to the news, and I’d argue that he was right to let her know the situation. The Juniors were put in danger in Yi City, but considering that wangxian were also being led that way, one might argue that the danger was always controlled. nhs knows what lwj and wwx are capable of!
I’ll admit that killing those cats was creepy as fuck but considering nhs was raised in a sect that feels casual desecration of corpses is ok, his standards for morality are what they are from the start.
The fact of releasing his brother’s fierce corpse in the streets and letting him make his own way to jgy was a shitty decision, that almost killed some children. But at this point, jgy is clearly very, very close to making his escape, and for all this part of the story nhs is making increasingly riskier decisions so I’d argue there’s a hint of desperation here.
Still, it could all have been worse. I’m the first to call nhs a monster for his actions because, welp, it’s fun, but the height of his cruelty was killing a bunch of cats and letting other people’s fucked up sense of morality come into play. nhs hasn’t killed people in a fit of rage, like wwx and nmj. He also hasn’t tortured anyone to death, like wwx and jgy. 
he isn’t a good man, but he could have been so much worse and honestly, wwx has no fucking right to be pissy at nhs the way he is in CQL because my good man, even if you’ve decided the crimes of your old life don’t count anymore, you still did far worse than nhs did lol
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