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turtleblogatlast · 4 months

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[ cw: risk taking behavior / circumstantial self harm kinda / ignoring of injuries / self-depreciation / slight ooc-ness but for a reason! / ]

Post invasion, Leo is fine.

More than fine! He’s better than before, even. That is, if you don’t count the slightly cracked shell and still healing bones, but those are only a problem when the weather wants them to be!

Leo really is better in the ways that matter.

He’s not as cocky, not as self-centered, and overall just more heroic in general if he does say so himself.

Raph even said he was proud of Leo!

So obviously things are going well.

But.

It’s not enough.

Leo’s better, sure, but he’s still got work to do.

So - and here’s something that will probably make his brothers faint on the spot - he needs to train.

_____

His brothers do not faint, but it’s a near thing for Raph. Mikey has to fan the snapper’s face and Donnie almost brings out the smelling salts before Raph shoots back to his feet with an excited grin.

Leo’s big brother gets teary eyed soon after and envelops him in a bear hug, saying once again how proud he is that Leo is growing up.

Leo lets himself be hugged, even hugs back as fiercely as he can, because unbeknownst to Raph, this marks the end of Leo’s childhood.

He lets himself be hugged like a kid one last time, looking through the hole in Raph’s shell all the while.

_____

Leo only trains the regular way with his brothers and occasionally April and the Caseys, but most especially Raph.

But of course that’s not enough, it was never going to be.

So he goes through the motions of the stretches, the spars, the meditation, and then he leaves.

He makes sure to have his excuses ready, usually defaulting to Hueso as his go to since his brothers are easily bought off with the promise of pizza. Leo hasn’t yet found the tracker Donnie installed in him, but when he does that’ll be dealt with too! But for now, this should be good.

See, the invasion made him realize something.

It’s not about him, but it was his shortcomings that led to everything going to hell.

So he just…needs to get rid of those shortcomings.

He’s working on it, gaining fighting skill in training, but there’s more he needs to do, more skills he needs to train.

Leo watches intently as Repo Mantis swindles someone, he memorizes the sleight of hand that Hypno performs, he sneaks back into the Mystic Library and is so quiet the hush bats forget he’s there, he talks Big Mama into honing his manipulation, and he even sneaks into human hospitals and reptile veterinary clinics to get a clue on more serious injuries.

And after any of these, he heads to Run of the Mill to compete in the Maze of Death.

_____

This is his twelfth time going through the (newly remodeled and even more deadly) Maze of Death, and would be his fifth time winning. The first three times had him waking up in Hueso’s office, and each time he wakes his old persona shines through.

He always waves off Hueso’s annoyance and questions and insists on trying again next time before he steals some pizza and bails.

The skeleton actively tries to stop him from entering the Maze after the first time, but hey- mystics are allowed before you enter.

It’s easy enough to teleport on by.

Harder to meet Hueso’s - and later his brothers’ - eyes when he fails again.

When he first actually won, Hueso congratulates him in that typical deadpan tone of his.

“Ah, felicidades, Pepino. Now you can move on, sí?”

“Hm? Nah, boneman! That run was sloppy!”

And then Leo runs off before Hueso can stop him.

He doesn’t even look at his picture on the champion wall when he next comes around. It’s not much to look at anyway.

_____

His second win is much like the first, and only his third win is actually acceptable.

But he knows the field too much now. He needs a challenge.

When he attempts to go through it blindfolded, he’s quickly shown how much he doesn’t know the Maze. So, obviously, he loses again.

He got a bit more banged up that time around.

“Pepino, basta ya, you’ve already won. Where are your brothers?”

“I can’t stop yet, señor! This is for my brothers - no les digas, please.”

Even if Hueso wanted to tell Leo’s brothers, they haven’t been in enough for him to get to, and it’s not like Hueso has their number since Leo’s the one Hueso usually contacts. For now, Leo’s safe to continue as is.

Though his injuries are getting harder to hide, and there’s only so much his shell in particular can take.

So to speed things up, he incorporates the blindfold into his regular training.

His brothers question it, of course, but hey, he initially got the idea from seeing Lou Jitsu do it in the third best Lou Jitsu movie, so it comes as a great excuse now.

He’s only a little put off by how fast Mikey adapts to it when the others try.

“I dunno-“ Mikey shrugs when asked, “You guys shine so brightly anyway, a mask doesn’t do much.”

Seeing their mystic energies is pretty cool, Leo can admit.

He just wishes he could grasp that himself - and that it was useful for a death maze.

_____

Leo’s training pulls off eventually, and soon, after a few more losses, he wins a forth time. But it’s a near loss, and a near loss is the difference between someone living and dying.

He’s gotta go again.

Hueso’s more insistent than ever, though.

“You must stop, Pepino.”

“But I can do better-“

“You don’t have to! Your shell is bleeding - ¡por tu propio bien, poner fin a esto!”

“I told you, this is for their own good! For everyone’s own good!”

He forgets the pizzas when he leaves. He claims sickness when he hides under his covers.

He ignores how childish the act makes him feel.

_____

Leo’s getting better, and his reflexes and tact in training shows this. His other training of his subterfuge and medical skills also prove to be useful.

He’s pretty good at hiding injuries, now! Though not so good at hiding a pained shell. Even Donnie looks at him with blatant concern (and understanding) when Leo can’t help but take a sharp breath whenever he lands on his back.

It’s hard not to go right back into waving everything off with jokes like he used to. Deflections are easier when they’re annoying!

But- this is just another reason that he needs to get better, right? So his brothers won’t worry. He doesn’t need the spotlight anymore - he’s over that, thanks.

He squashes down the part of him that perks up when Splinter says he’s growing up. He actively kills the part of himself that cries at the same phrase.

_____

So. Yeah. This’ll be his twelfth time running the Maze. And, hopefully, his fifth win. Maybe he really will move on after this.

The Hidden City is pretty big! There’s probably a bigger challenge somewhere.

Maybe Big Mama has a more secret Nexus hidden away, out of the public eye.

Well, whatever. That’s a future problem for him to figure out, yeah? For now, he carries on like usual, teleporting to the entrance of the Maze and diving right in.

Even blindfolded, he works his way through, dodging and weaving and feeling as he goes. He even tries to evoke his inner Mikey and calls on his mystic energy. Not enough to cheat, but enough to feel.

Usually, when Leo teleports, he swears he feels every part of himself disperse into particles. Now, with energy thrumming under his scales, he can feel particles everywhere.

It’s not refined enough to tell him everything, and he gets a fun new burn and a nice whack to the back by getting distracted. Still, it gives him more than he had before. It makes him more aware of everything, like he licked a finger and held it in the air to feel the direction of wind, but every direction blew wind, all in different ways.

He makes it to the end with minimal injuries after that, and sure, his shell is screaming at him now, but he thinks he did a shell of a good job.

…Ah, he needs to cut that out, huh? Man. Maybe Donnie’s collar idea was a good call after all.

Leo needs to be a hero. Not a face man. Not a failure.

Not a kid.

_____

Leo doesn’t smile when the Minotaur takes his picture again for the champion wall, and he doesn’t listen when she tells him to “go home and never come back.”

He doesn’t plan to, anyway, yeesh.

He’s tired as he trudges out of the exit, and Hueso catches him when he stumbles.

Hueso doesn’t say anything. Leo doesn’t either.

Or, he doesn’t, until he feels a familiar large hand helping him up as well.

Leo’s face whips up as he flinches back, eyes wide as they meet with a worried (so, so worried) Raph’s.

“You told them?” Leo asks Hueso in betrayal, heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“Pepino…”

“Told us what?” Mikey pipes up from behind Raph, coming closer to get a better look at Leo, “Leo, what’s going on?”

“Your shell has been having pretty big setbacks on its healing, is this why?” Donnie demands, glaring fiercely as he motions toward the Maze.

Leo feels unmoored. “I-“

“Leo.” Raph interrupts, and no Leo doesn’t want to hear it- “Are you okay?”

And Leo wants to say “it’s not about me”. He wants to say anything that proved he learned his lesson, that he’s not a liability or worse, an active danger to his own family.

He wants Raph to continue being proud of him. He wants his brothers to trust him.

Instead, he passes out.

_____

The next time his eyes open, Leo’s on his side, staring at his blue lava lamp.

He knows without looking that his shell is re-bandaged. He knows his other injuries have been dealt with too.

And unless Leo learned how to do some pretty impressive medical sleepwalking, he knows he’s not getting away this time.

All three of his brothers being in his room prove that.

“What’s been going on, Leo?” Mikey asks, and his voice cracks partway through.

He’s looking at Leo like he’s searching for something, but Leo doesn’t have anything to show. Nothing’s hidden, he just did some light spring cleaning is all, throwing out all the parts he didn’t need.

All the parts they didn’t need.

And yet despite everything, he can feel himself falling back into old ways, a grin tugging at his beak and lackadaisical deflection on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he should let that part of him show, just for once. It wouldn’t seem like too much of a setback would it? And he could really use a fun pun right about now-

No.

No it’s not about him. He needs to remember why he did all this in the first place.

“Okay- sorry, guys.” He smiles, softly, quietly, “I guess I got too caught up in training. I’ll work at it some more, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I see. Training. That’s all it was, huh? Training.” Donnie hisses more than says, nearly vibrating in anger.

“…yeah?” Leo nods slowly, because, uh, that’s literally the most honest thing he said. It was training.

“If it’s just “training” then why the secrecy, hm? Why in Curie’s good name did you prefer to sneak around rather than, oh, I don’t know, tell your family?”

Leo feels his shoulders rise at Donnie’s aggression, defensiveness welling up in him, “It was my training! Nothing went wrong, I’m getting better!”

“Better?” Raph asks incredulously, “Leo, you’re wasting away. A tap to the shell stuns you for minutes, you lost weight, and your dark circles are worse than Raph’s ever seen them! You aren’t getting better-!”

“YES I AM!”

The words rip out of Leo before he can stop them.

The room is silent as his brother look at him, all wearing expressions of hurt that Leo put there again.

“Yes I am.” Leo reiterates, shaking, “Because- if I’m not-“ He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I’m not-“

Then what was all this for?

Arms slowly wrap around him, and he knows now from the feel of the mystic that it’s Mikey.

“You’ve gotten faster, and sneakier.” Mikey says quietly. “When I accidentally cut my hand, you knew exactly how to take care of it.” His voice grows firm, and he backs out of the hug, “But those are your skills. You, though, you’ve been…you’ve been…”

“You’ve been dilapidating before our very eyes, and trying to hide it.” Donnie finishes, jaw tight. “You think we wouldn’t notice? After everything?” To Leo’s horror, Donnie’s voice is hoarse with tears, “You absolute dumb dumb.”

“I- but I need to train. The Maze is-“

“Leo, we don’t care that you ran through the Maze. We care you did it alone.” Raph says quietly. “We could have joined you, any time.”

“But- but I’m doing this for you-“

“Listen to your brothers, Blue.” They jump as a new voice joins the fray, heads turning to see Splinter make his way into the - frankly crowded - room.

“Dad, I-“ Leo begins, but trails off, suddenly more unsure than ever in the face of his father.

“It’s good you’re finally picking up training! Especially for your brothers’ sakes! But there’s such a thing as going overboard, you know.” Splinter pokes a sharp claw into Leo’s plastron, “Just because you’re dragging it out this time, doesn’t make this any less of a sacrifice. My son, you’ve taken after Karai an awful lot, haven’t you?”

Leo just looks at his father. At his brothers. Then, he looks down at his calloused hands, bandaged and scarred from overuse.

He swallows dryly. “Is that a bad thing?”

He feels his family crowd in around him, feels his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not wrong to want to be better, Leonardo.” Splinter says, softly and with so much grief and guilt that Leo can never begin to understand, “But you were never bad to begin with.”

Leo’s breath hitches.

“And-” Splinter’s hands rise up to frame Leo’s face. “You are much too young to ever consider sacrifice the best answer.”

“You got me to relax, Leo. So I’ll do the same for you.” Raph grins, eyes wet, “We’re still kids, right?”

And-

Leo smiles, watery but genuine. “Yeah, Raph. We are.”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #rise fanfic #WHOOPS #did not mean to write all this #my only regret is not including April #anyway I was like wow Leo sure is acting different at the end of the movie huh #then I thought hey he’s actually acting a lot like previous iterations of Leo rn #then I ran with it and tripped down the stairs in the process #thus this was born!#I am tired so more tags later #but dang oops a bit too angsty gotta do smth lighthearted soon huh #also yes he DOES go back and apologize for putting Hueso through so much #he gets a smack on the head and a head pat immediately after #‘don’t do it again Pepino - not until I finally get the Maze shut down’ ‘okay wait what-‘

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artforkuponuts · 4 months

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The Ten of Swords

This card marks a painful ending. A relationship comes to an abrupt end, out of the blue, cutting to the core and leaving you feeling as if the world has crumbled around you. You are grieving the pain of this shocking loss and wonder if you will ever love or trust again.

#I'm back at it again with my agent of Asgard feels #not only did Thor find out that he lost his brother. he found out that the loki that took his place was the murderer. and thus lost him too #i often wonder what Gram wouldve revealed about thor in the fight in AoA 10 #i could write an essay on what i thought about that though so ill leave that #loki #mogs art #thorki #thor #agent of asgard #thor art #angst #tarot #ten of swords

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sameteeth · 4 months

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in s3ep2, eleanor tells mrs. hudson she doesnt come from privilege, which mrs. hudson immediately denies. but i think its SOOO telling of eleanor's character! she sees herself as a woman in a world full of men, which she is, but she completely ignores the class and racial divides she obviously benefits from. she claims she has no privilege to mrs. hudson, who comes from no money and works as a chambermaid to woodes rodgers, leaving behind her beloved children to make sure eleanor has clean clothes and to empty her chamberpot. eleanor had power on nassau, power she wielded for her own benefit and to the severe detriment of others. obviously she experienced misogyny, but she was never forced into poverty, never forced into sex work, never forced into service of any kind, because her father was wealthy and she was born into a higher class. her experiences of misogyny and oppression are vastly different than mrs. hudson's. but for her to tell a chambermaid she experienced no privilege? it's laughably untrue. eleanor oversaw and directly profitted from the trade of hundreds if not thousands of slaves on nassau, was raised by "chattel property of the guthrie estate" mr. scott, who is never even given a name in his own tongue (on screen, at least), never showed kindness to anyone but those who put money in her pocket because she was born with that money and that trade empire already in the guthrie name. she had to fight to get it, and fight she did, but the fact that those things were so close to her reach just by virtue of the circumstances of her birth? that's privilege, whether or not she sees it that way

#eleanor is a character i love and hate - shes so INTERESTING analysis wise and im still chewing on her motives etc but i dont like her as a #character within thr story - shes selfish and deceitful and shortsighted (max i could treat u so good baby please-) and she makes me mad lol #BUT. thinking abt her in relation to mr scott and madi ? VERY interesting... writing a piece on this now actually!#i also think shes so White Feminist - recognizes injustice wrt her experience and hers alone and discwrds any notion of intersectionality #because while she can recognize oppression and injustice she cannot see the whole picture and thus only thinks of how it affects her #billy is similar i think but my thoughts onthat havent quite coagulated into anything coherent yet #canis speaks #black sails #canis watches black sails

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becauseplot · 6 months

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i feel i should preface this with saying that this relationship analysis "takes place" before qcellbit's emotional exhaustion and motivation crash---

---but i have been having SUCH crazy thoughts abt the archivists (qcellbit n qphilza). guy who needs evidence of Everything 🤝 guy who takes pictures of and hoards Everything. two-cars-passing-each-other meme whenever cellbit (practically nocturnal at this point) makes a late-night run to the Ordo to grab some notes he left there and bumps into phil (trouble sleeping ever since the birdhouse incident) who's sitting in one of the evidence rooms organizing a new backpack of photos to hand over to cellbit.

"oh. hey phil." "hi mate."

their conversations and interactions center mostly around cellbit's investigations---the ones cellbit lets the public know about, anyway---and whatever new info phil managed to scoop up since the last time they saw each other. theories are exchanged, and photos are passed between them as easily as pleasantries. "how're you doing?" "oh, doin' alright, doin' alright. you?" "eh. busy, you know?"

they don't talk about much else.

see, they both understand secrets. intimately. things you did you would much rather leave behind you, if you can, or thoughts, worries, doubts you would much rather keep to yourself for fear of speaking them into existence. sealed lips; a tight lid. they look at each other and know they're only seeing what the other wants them to see, but that's okay. they get it. sometimes, it's just easier to focus on what is directly in front of you. what you can see, what you can touch; what you know is true, what you know is real.

what you can do.

so cellbit generates and bounces his theories off of phil, and phil is more than happy to be a sounding board. phil fills up a backpack with photographs, and cellbit is more than happy to take it off his hands. they focus on The Work, on the spiderweb of red string and loose ends and grainy pictures and scrawled notes pinned to the wall, madness-incarnate sprawled out before them. they trust each other's judgement, and they trust each other's skills, and they trust each other, and neither asks too many questions. they both appreciate it.

#like seriously most of their conversations thus far have been about everything and everyone BESIDES themselves.#and that!! makes for such an interesting relationship!! bc they trust each other despite it!!#btw i rly tried to format this so that the concepts/ideas touched on this relationship study usually came in pairs-#-the first of each pair being mostly and cellbit and the second being mostly about phil-#-with the exception of the bolded sentence which is supposed to have different meanings depending on whose perspective-#-you read it from. idk i had a lot of fun formatting this. me when parallels me when mirror images <33 #dont mind me im just rambling #qsmp philza #qsmp cellbit #q!philza #q!cellbit #also phil acting as cellbit's rubber duck is so important to me actually.#shout out to every friend of mine who has put up with my wall of texts abt an au or writing idea or incoherent mess of disjointed thoughts.#shout out to every friend of mine who's been there hanging out or on call with me as i lose my mind on a problem im whiteboarding.#u keep me sane and u help me more than u know. ily.#archivists #archivist duo

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laufire · 3 months

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batman: gotham knights #2

why does nobody get him 😭

like. I think it's not out of the realm of possibility to assume anyone talking about jason todd in their writing and getting paid for it would've AT LEAST read aditf. and yet. fucking yet...

#i like devin's writing a lot but this one really irked me lmao #not commenting on the other two because at least they exist in present time as she writes them and thus are allowed the nuance #that can't be afforded to a corpse with no room for action or vindication #which is -by the way- the reason i will always judge people that say they liked jason's character better when he was ''dead and hunting the #because a lot of the time he wasn't haunting shit he was just a dead kid dragged through the mud to prop other characters and coddle bruce #IF they had consistently written him with dignity i could see the point of their argument #but as it is jason coming back at the very least gives him back a voice #not an always well-written voice i admit #but it gives him -as i say- room for nuance #talking to the void #my thoughts #dc thoughts #dc #dc comics #batman: gotham knights #jason todd #favourites: the walking dead

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zishuge · 5 months

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Today I gave myself feels thinking about Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, and Hulijing moving on and aging in a world without Li Lianhua. A world where Li Lianhua isn't there — but then again, he is there, in Lianhualou, and in the townspeople who flock to it, bearing gifts for the miracle doctor who once saved a life, fixed a roof, exposed a conman, comforted a child. Young Fang Duobing used to want to know every little detail about his hero, Li Xiangyi. Now Fang Duobing wants to know every detail about his beloved friend, Li Lianhua. The years pass and fewer people come. But if they remember him, Li Lianhua lives on.

(long post, half meta, half fic, bittersweet)

They travel together, with Hulijing, in Lianhualou. Fang Duobing has nothing better to do, so he takes up detective work again. Di Feisheng has nothing better to do, so he comes along. Everywhere they go, they look for Li Lianhua. And in their journeys, it seems like everywhere they go, someone is talking about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who had always been something of a legend, but ever since his reappearance and subsequent (re)disappearance, has seemingly been elevated into something approaching godhood.

you should've seen him, people say, floating across the rooftops in red, cold and beautiful, like an avenging hero out of some novel. wasn't he dead? no — of course he wasn't, li xiangyi would never have been so easily killed. but it was bicha poison, i heard nobody could survive bicha poison. yes, he was definitely dead, and came back to life through dark magic. no, he'd been alive the whole time, just held captive by di feisheng. he tried to kill his shixiong ten years ago and failed, and came back to finish the job. no, his shixiong tried to kill the emperor and li xiangyi came to stop him. the emperor? impossible. yes — don't you know, li xiangyi is the emperor's long-lost son?

All of it only amuses Di Feisheng, but it irks Fang Duobing. The same Fang Duobing, who, when he was younger, would've hungered for every little detail about Li Xiangyi and begged to hear more, now finds it maddening to listen to these strangers talk about him as if they knew him. The world might have known Li Xiangyi, but it had never known Li Lianhua.

Li Lianhua, who could wield Shaoshi like it was a natural extension of his arm, but regularly cut his fingers clumsily slicing radishes and onions. Li Lianhua, who would invariably try to shrug off an attack of bicha poison, but yelped and jumped back from hot oil splatters in the kitchen like a child. Li Lianhua, who frowned when a passing carriage splashed mud onto his robes, but knelt carelessly into the dirt and grass to play with Hulijing.

None of them knew any of that.

But as Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng continue their travels, they begin to encounter other people as well. People who come running when they see Lianhualou in the distance tottering their way. People who come bearing gifts — a woman looking for the shenyi who had helped her with her back pain and also exposed the con artist who had tried to trick her daughter into marriage. A young man coming to thank the doctor who had given his father herbs for stress while uncovering the corrupt official who had falsely accused him of theft. An elderly couple looking for the young man who had helped them thatch their roof before a rainstorm and had given them some medicinal cream before he left. (One middle-aged man with a club, looking for the wangba quack doctor who had exposed his infidelity to his wife — he had left after one look at Di Feisheng, standing silently in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and dao strapped across his back.) People who greet Hulijing like an old friend.

Fang Duobing listens eagerly to every story they tell him, and in return, he tells them about his brilliant, kind, exasperating friend. Di Feisheng rolls his eyes every time, but Fang Duobing notices he never walks away either. They don't talk about it. But it’s as if Li Lianhua returns, however briefly, during those visits; in those moments, Fang Duobing can almost see him standing there, bending down to pet Hulijing alongside these old friends as she grins her little doggy grin and wags her tail. She escorts their guests to the door, and sits in the doorway after they leave, looking out at the world as though waiting. He doesn't ask if Di Feisheng can see him too. They sit and share wine after these visits, and eat the fruit that the visitors bring, until Di Feisheng can stand the heavy silence no longer and pushes Fang Duobing outside to spar. Hulijing follows faithfully, as always.

(fang duobing had brought home a puppy, once. he can't remember where he found it, but he remembers that he had held it in his lap in his wheelchair, eager to show it to his uncle before taking it home to his mother. his uncle had glared, and told him that dogs were only useful to guard the house, and tianji manor already had guards, human ones, and that fang duobing would do better to focus on his swordplay rather than waste time on such useless and frivolous things. he had taken the puppy away and fang duobing had never seen it again. it wasn't until those blurry months as he rode across the countryside looking for li lianhua, hulijing trotting along ever so loyally at his side, that he realized this was just another way that shan gudao and li xiangyi were opposites.)

The years pass, and there are fewer and fewer people who come. One day Fang Duobing wakes up with the unbearable realization that he is now older than Li Lianhua had ever been, would ever be, and is unable to get out of bed for a good half a shichen. Di Feisheng leaves him be.

The years pass, and Di Feisheng grows older too. There are lines on his face, snowy white beginning to thread through his jet-black hair. Fang Duobing wants very much to tease him about it, but the words catch in his throat when he looks too closely at the signs of time on Di Feisheng's face. What a precious and altogether rare thing it is, to age.

The years pass, and Hulijing grows older too. Fang Duobing finds that more and more often, Hulijing can no longer keep up with him when he goes riding. He stops going riding. She gets cold more easily now too, and more and more often Fang Duobing wakes in the morning with Hulijing curled up under the covers next to him, her wet nose shoved into his armpit. He holds her close and thinks about Li Lianhua shivering in his arms.

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

It's been nearly a year since their last visitor, but today there is an old man. He comes in the morning, bringing a basket of plums. A long time ago, he says, a young man who lived here saved my life. I had been poisoned, he says, by my son who wanted my money and my lands. The doctors said there was no cure. But then the young man came and performed a miracle. He saved my life. He saved my life.

Fang Duobing knows it was no miracle that saved him. He asks for the old man's hand and it is given readily, albeit bemusedly. He presses his fingers to the inside of the man's wrist, and is greeted with a whisper-faint, gentle thrum of yangzhouman — a soft hello from a much-beloved friend. You fool, he thinks dazedly, caught somewhere between overwhelmed that here is someone, inside whom a piece of Li Lianhua lives on, and so bitterly angry. What had it cost? Some hours, days, weeks? He doesn't let himself think of what another week might have afforded them in those wild final days, in their desperate search for a cure. Fang Duobing gives the old man back his hand and blinks back the sting of tears. He cannot talk about Li Lianhua today. He apologizes and tells him that the man he is looking for is traveling and won't be back for a few days, but that Fang-mou will pass on the message. Before he leaves, the man leans down to rub at Hulijing's ear. My old friend, he says, like me, you, too, are truly old now.

After the man leaves, Fang Duobing folds himself into a sit on the floor of Lianhualou and gathers Hulijing into his arms. Gently — her joints are stiff now, and he can't haul her around, can't roughhouse with her the way he used to. Di Feisheng comes down the stairs from where he had been listening; he stands behind Fang Duobing and places a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. At the edge of his vision, near the door, Fang Duobing can see the hazy hem of green robes. If he looks up, he wonders brokenly, what would he see? The face of a man forever frozen in youth? Or a face lined with age, snowy white beginning to thread through jet-black hair? He suddenly finds that he cannot bear to find out.

Fang Duobing knows. He knows that the myth and the outlandish rumors about proud, arrogant, beautiful Li Xiangyi will never die. But he also knows that one day, there will be no one else who comes to Lianhualou; no one left who remembers gentle, sly, infuriating Li Lianhua. One day, the old man will pass on and the piece of Li Lianhua that he carries with him will fade as well. And one day… Fang Duobing presses his forehead against the soft fur of Hulijing's neck where it has gone white and thin with age. He closes his eyes and breathes.

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

Years and years and years later, Fang Duobing is awakened from where he has fallen into a light doze reading in his chair by a soft knock on the door. There is a woman standing outside, holding a small basket of pears. I think I remember this building, she says. I must've only been six years old, but I had run off and lost my parents. I fell down in the street and skinned my knees. A kind gege helped me and gave me a piece of candy. He said he would walk me home but I said I didn't know whether I should tell him where I lived. He laughed and asked if it would help if I knew where he lived. He pointed to the most fantastical and wild house I had ever seen. I think it was this place. Xiansheng, does he live here? Who was he? Do you know him?

Fang Duobing smiles and invites her inside. On the bed, the small white dog that Di Feisheng has named, ridiculously, Baigujing, raises her head and thumps her tail a few times in hello. Di Feisheng looks up from where he is writing a letter at the table. Fang Duobing leads the woman over and waves at her to sit down. He sits across from her, ignoring Di Feisheng's eyeroll, and offers her a piece of candy. He always keeps candy around. Fang Duobing smiles once more and says, if you'd like to know — there is so much I would like to tell you.

#i just... the idea that xiaobao just wants li lianhua to live in any way he can #if he can't live on in reality xiaobao will make damn sure he lives on in someone's memory #something something you die a second death when there is no one left to remember you something something legacy #one day there will only be fang duobing and di feisheng #fang duobing who was li lianhua's friend #and di feisheng who was li xiangyi's equal #but it is not this day #i hurt myself #mysterious lotus casebook #cw: pet death #it's only very vaguely mplied but just in case #my ramblings #how long does transferred inner power stay in someone else's body? *shrug*#that's probably not how the force works #i write economic research for a living why am i suddenly writing mlc fic i haven't written fic in 10 years THE BRAINROT IT IS REAL #in my mind these are simple townspeople not caught up on jianghu things & thus never knew that li lianhua was li xiangyi - whoever that is #baigujing is “white bone spirit” from journey to the west bc i thought di feisheng would find it funny #but did journey to the west even exist yet in lhl time? probably not? IDK i'm uncultured.

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deiaiko · 3 months

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#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday.

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

☕ Buy me coffee ☕

#Whee we get to know some of their past. Specifically their turning point #I hope it flows nicely because i have rewritten this like 3 times now 😭😭😭 dialogues are just not my specialty #like how to make them reveal such information without making them come out of the blue #writing style aside. let's talk about why Agni behaves this way #I will save the details on the what and how for the prologue. but basically Agni had been through hell that he couldn't escape alone #Rak Hatz and Isu saved him (or attempted to). and Agni owed them for saving his life. thus the strong attachment that Khun doesn't have #also let me mention that Agni had trouble differentiating between hallucination and reality after the incident. So he was kind of in denial #maybe Agni had come to a conclusion that they might be dead months after that. but he was too afraid to admit it to Grace #because he thought it was partly his fault for being incompetent. and Grace would hate him for letting their friends die #not wanting to risk being left by Grace. he just put himself (and inevitably Grace too) in the illusion of truth #that there's still a chance their friends are still alive because they have no proof of their deaths #so when Agni was offered to go back to the past. he agreed to it. Already expecting that Rak Hatz Isu aren't the same ones that he looks fo #but it was as good as he could get to redeem himself. Plus they get to meet everyone else who they couldn't save #Anyway. I'm taking hiatus until April. In return I will answer if you have any questions whether it is written in the tags or sent via ask #see ya folks <3 we'll get more brothers and team bonding when I return #tower of god #tog #two sides of the same coin fic #my fic #my art #bam #25th bam #jue viole grace #khun #khun aguero agnis #khunbam #shibisu #ship leesoo #rak wraithraiser #hatz

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redrobin-detective · 1 year

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Iruma is an invasive species within the Netherworld, and like many invasive species he will conquer if left unchecked.

We know at some point, humans and demons interacted though, at some point, they each became each other’s myths. I propose that the separation was intentional on the demon side, relegating humans to bedtime stories. They did this because they knew a single human could elevate or devastate the Netherworld. Humans are weaker in demons in most ways physically but their real strength lies in their cooperativeness and desire for community, adaptability and perseverance despite adversity.

Right from the start, Iruma has unnaturally succeeded in a world that incredibly hostile to him. And yet from the start be began building relationships. We’ve seen demons don’t have much of a concept of ‘friends’ the closest being ‘allies’. The Misfits individually were lazy and self-centered which is what got them sent to troublemakers class. Only when Iruma reached out and formed positive relationships, created a foreign system of giving and receiving help did they really flourish. With each arc, we see the class cooperating and relying with each other more and more, even in individual events. Its helped them grow exponentially in power and personality and only occurred because Iruma planted the notion that they are stronger together.

Iruma is also extremely adaptable not only from his hectic upbringing but his innate humanity. Despite not knowing the context of what is happening during most of his day, he adapts extremely well. He uses what skills he gained in the human world by tweaking them to suit his needs and picked up new demonic skills (such as using Ali-san’s stored magic) very quickly. Part of the ‘special training’ leading up to the Harvest Festival was forcing the kids to break out of just using their bloodline abilities. Iruma has no power himself and thus isn’t limited in what he uses to complete a task. We’ve seen on a few occasions he wins simply because his opponent is too stuck in a particular way of fighting and thinking. Being able to think on his feet and not just stick to the familiar is what makes him such a fierce opponent.

Finally, we’ve observed that demons on the whole are self-centered and lazy. This is not always the case but overall many lack the ability to pursue or accept change. Even the Six Fingers is all about returning to origins and reviving Delkira, in other words, moving backwards. But since he arrived in the Netherworld Iruma has boldly moved forward. He integrated well into a completely alien environment and not only became popular but powerful very quickly. He worked hard to unlearn an ingrained skill (dodging) to win a contest going head to head with the most powerful student. Even when his fellows wanted to give up, his dedication and well known compassion helped win them the Royal One. He became an expert archer even when his master said most demons gave up, refusing to put in the effort. Challenges that most demons backed down from, Iruma charged on ahead.

Iruma used his ability to bring people together, to adapt to any situation no matter how strange and to see his ambitions through to go from someone who should’ve been eaten on day one to a stand out demon. Iruma himself is a kind, extraordinary young man but he also has a natural advantage in an environment he is unknowingly adapted to. It’s one of the reasons why he will eventually be demon king because who else deserves to stand at the very top than the creature who can outnumber, out-think and outlast any demonic opponent?

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #i have so many iruma thoughts dont mind me #but this has been on my mind since the harvest festival #Bachiko noting that most demons just gave up learning the bow bc it was too hard #humans are stubborn bastards we dont give up demons... not so much apparently #thus the idea that demons and humans are kept seperate bc humans will just overrun demons #despite their demonic physical advantages they just dont have the strength of character to outmatch a human #it really does explain (other than anime logic) why Iruma has consistantly landed on top every time #in a world supposedly out to kill him #I imagine to some older folks learning that Iruma is a human would scare the shit out of them #along the lines of 'human are space orcs' thinking #also sad thought I've had related but didn't quite have the space to talk about #human scent/blood is known to be alluring to demons #despite his perfume one cant completely cover their smell #perhaps some of Irumas popularity is bc demons are unconsciously drawn to him and his yummy smell #just not knowing why #they still love him for being Iruma but it adds a sad lil tang to their relationship #would they even exist had Iruma been the same but in a demon body?#anyway Ive been writing this on and off all day bye

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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phone calls my detested

#i had to make a vet appointment and Wow i am not cut out for this whole independent adult thing lmfao #i had to write down a little script for myself...#i feel so bad for the receptionist i was stumbling and 'uhhhhh'ing my way through that call #fuck and when i was supposed to end the call. i didnt realize #I DONT KNOW THE PROTOCOL OKAY #do i hang up??? do i say bye??? she didnt say bye so was there something else i was supposed to say #she hung up so Yay but oughhhhhhh what the fuck #youre telling me people just Know how to carry a conversation? they just Know the routine? sounds fake #i had to rev myself up for the call too #put on a hat. put on sunglasses to trick my brain into thinking we're outside doing things thus fabricating confidence #phone in one hand fidget-dodecahedron in the other. Pacing #my brain is a normal brain that works perfectly fine thanks for asking #absolutely unprompted #i feel so connected to my neanderthal ancestors when i have to make a call #theyre being stalked by a smilodon... i have to talk to a person... same Fear <3 #no but fr whenever i have to talk to someone my thought process shuts down Completely and i forget that im a living human being #fight or flight - neither. freeze and play dead #i think in my next life... i would like to be... a decorative plant #perhaps one of those tall ferns outside a seaside barbecue restaurant #i'd Win at that life. id be so good at photosynthesizing & rustling in the ocean breeze

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camels-pen · 6 months

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can't sleep so have vampire Usopp drabble with sanuso~

Just imagine Usopp showing up after exploring some island on his own, bloodied, limping, leaving streaks of blood all over the place

Sanji left on ship watching duty, is cooking in the kitchen, idly checking with Haki every once in a while to make sure no one unfamiliar shows up

He notices Usopp coming but is right in the middle of something- making food for lunch when everyone returns, but also hashing out food supplies he'll need to buy once it's his turn to leave the ship

So when Usopp shows up, Sanji's distracted, maybe looking at his list, and maybe there's something like this:

"San...ji." There was some odd dragging sound. "Blood."

"Blood?" Sanji looked up from his list and nearly jumped out of his skin. "What the hell happened?!" He jumped the railing to land in front of Usopp, hands uselessly fluttering about his bloodied and broken body. He had to be standing just through pure willpower alone.

"Hun...gry."

Food. Right, yes, Sanji could do food. He could take Usopp up to the infirmary and bring him a plate.

Sanji settled on putting his hands on Usopp's shoulders. His skin was freezing through his shirt. "I've already made heaps for lunch, but I need to patch you up first. Just tell me what you want and I'll bring it to the infirmary."

"Wa...nt."

"Yeah,"-Sanji nodded, starting to get more concerned with the slow responses-"anything you want, Usopp."

"Any... thing?"

"Anything."

With a strength and speed Sanji wasn't expecting, Usopp slammed both of Sanji's wrists against the wall.

"Blood."

Before Sanji could say anything, before he could even take another breath, Usopp surged down to his neck and bit him.

Sanji was about ready to kick him away, regardless of Usopp's current state, and fuming about being caught up in some stupid prank, when he felt the first suck.

"H-Hey Usopp, are you..." serious? Conscious? Under some weird devil fruit power? Sanji didnt know what to ask first.

He never got the chance to figure it out either, as a wave of pure, toe-curling pleasure washed through him. In his surprise, he didn't have time to tone down the full blown moan that slipped his lips.

Usopp continued sucking, though his grip on Sanji's wrists had slackened. His own pleased groans were loud as he drank, the noises right next to Sanji's ear and making it burn with a growing heat.

Whatever this was, Sanji needed to stop it. As a man who needed to defend his love of women, and only women, he couldn't get worked up just by some stupid-

Hun... gry. Usopp had said. Blood.

That- there's no way. Sanji was far past not believing in legends and myths, and his old man was never one to pull his leg on that kind of stuff.

But even Sanji had thought, or maybe hoped, that vampires weren't real.

And for it to be Usopp- Usopp of all people. Sanji knocked his head back against the wall, tears falling freely as his lip wobbled.

"Fuck, fuck!"

The sucking stopped.

Usopp pulled away just enough to look up at Sanji. The way his head was angled, Sanji could see horrific looking bite marks all along his neck, shoulders, under his jaw, down his collar, and disappearing under his shirt.

He had to pause a moment, imagining Usopp having stumbled into a coven's territory. Alone. Probably looking for cool bugs or something else inconsequential, unknowing that he would die within moments.

Sanji hoped it was quick, at least. He hoped this coven wasn't like the one in his books; the ones who would draw it out for as long as possible. Usopp had been gone only a few hours and he must've hobbled to the ship on his own, which could've taken a while, and-

And Usopp was still staring at him, silent, eyes blank, and lips stained red with blood. Sanji's blood.

It hadn't been long since breakfast, but being killed and having all of the blood sucked out of him would probably work up a big appetite.

And, well, Sanji would never let a crewmate go hungry.

So, he put one hand to the back of Usopp's hair- his hair, not his hat, free of it's usual ponytail and covered in leaves and dirt and blood- and guided him back to his neck. Usopp made a questioning noise.

Sanji closed his eyes, let a shaky smile show on his face. He brought his other hand up to press Usopp closer.

"I did say anything, didn't I?"

Usopp didn't respond. After a moment, Sanji felt him lick at the bite marks he left behind- pinpricks compared to the wounds littering his own dark skin- and then, carefully, fit his mouth into those same marks. Once again, he began to drink, this time at a much slower pace.

Regardless of the speed or the gentleness, Sanji still had to fight not to give away how much he was truly enjoying this.

(and then the crew shows up lmao)

#one piece #sanuso #sanji #usopp #vampire usopp #nemo the writing ho #nemotime #zoro will be ruthlessly making fun of Sanji btw #bc hes so obvious about how much he liked it lmfao #tho i suppose the question is: is this a sanji thing or a consequence of the bite itself?#dunno if ill continue this but twas a fun 3am thought that wouldnt leave my brain #thus here we are #also added in his majesty's internalized homophobia for spice. which like. would probably be addressed at some point #idk its 4am now om going to bed #feel free to send asks if u wan #i shoulda had sanji lament more about usopp experiencing death via vampire coven but im startin to get tired i think #if i do a folllow up or smth then ill do it there #and thattt would probably lead to an initial hint of 'hmm maybe i like usopp a little bit more than the other guys'#or some other queer baby step for him

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