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brandwhorestarscream · 6 months

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Can we please see TFP Cryptoid Seekers (Jazz EQ Event). Like, I want to know how it would go with them. Especially with the whole "rouge Starscream" concept. Does the team all go to refuel, only to all get paralyzed and knocked out like Jazz was, waking up with the insatiable hunger. Or does Starscream find their base by parental will alone. Or even, does the whole Jazz but Team Prime thing happen, no one knows what's going on, then a fully developed seeker emerges. Please. Would you write this as a fic.

(Fun fact. My question mark is broken, so a lot of these periods are actually question marks. Sorry!)

Hey anon! I had a lotta fun with this one, but this is meant to serve only as the first part. Second part will be God Knows When, so I hope you'll enjoy this in the mean time!

Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy this blurb of Starscream's terrifying cryptid hellspawn terrorizing the autobots

It was, like most things these days, the rookie’s fault. Smokescreen had come waltzing back into base, strutting like a peacock and proudly showing off his haul, arms stacked high with the weirdest energon containers any of them had ever seen. Perfectly spherical from every angle, and scans revealed they held within them the highest possible quality, packed to the brim with the maximum potential energy-per-ounce. You’d be hard pressed to find anything like this on Cybertron save for within the Towers, and Ratchet was quick to seize them all for the emergency cache. Saying they ought to save it until someone needed a life-saving surgery and the nectar of the gods would aid in their recovery. Or, alternatively, if they took another turn toward unfortunate famine, those weird energon pods could tide them over for quite awhile.

Desperate to taste such a high quality treat, Smokescreen had eagerly offered to go get more. Stealing from Starscream was child’s play when he was otherwise engaged halfway across the continent with the autobots and decepticons, especially when he had the phase shifter. Optimus had forbid it, though–the window of opportunity had closed.

Starscream was very clearly incredibly upset about the loss of his fuel stores–Smokescreen had reported at least 30 of the weird orb-pod-things, and had gotten away with a total of 11. The seeker clearly knew they were the culprit, and had reportedly razed no less than seven government facilities in the last week.

“That stuff must be good if he’s this crazy about it,” Smokescreen had sighed wistfully after Fowler stalked away, demanding Optimus do something about the rogue jet. “Hey, doc, you sure-”

“Yes I’m sure!” Ratchet snaps from nearby, not even bothering to turn around. “Don’t even think about it, kid.”

He had whined about the unfairness of it all, but obeyed. The only ones amongst them that had ever had the privilege of such high quality energon were of course Optimus and Ultra Magnus, but they were in no rush to consume it, either. Ever the models of self control.

Three weeks after they’d put the special fuel in storage the normal-grade stuff was starting to run low and they had to raid another mine. It was profitable, but only barely, the spoils only requiring a trio of mecha to unload it into the energon vault. With the two youngest attending to their human companions’ and Ratchet fixing a minor wound on Arcee’s arm, only Optimus, Magnus, and Bulkhead were present when the orbs they’d stolen from Starscream suddenly exploded.

The detonation was obnoxiously loud, easily heard from everywhere in the base, a perfectly synchronized explosion of all 11 at once that brought the both of them running. As they approached the door there was the unmistakable sound of bodies hitting the floor, and before them all three lay splayed out unconscious. There’s energon everywhere, glowing sharp cyan splattered on the walls, slathered upon their bodies as Ratchet rushes to check on them. They’re all fine, not bleeding, no wounds, but the energon they’re covered with is exceptionally viscous, almost slimy, and has the strongest paralyzing agent Ratchet has ever encountered. Just stepping in it steals the function from his legs in less than half a klik, and it falls to Arcee to hoses the area down and get the contaminated stuff down the drain.

The three main victims don’t stay unconscious for long, only a few megacycles. Ratchet works over them furiously, flushing their systems when he realizes the paralyzing agent is one of those annoying topical creations that can absorb through the mesh and penetrate directly into the mainlines. It’s wasteful but necessary, and thankfully, they’re ok. They’re back on their pedes before nightfall, and the scans come back clean.

The only problem is their fuel gauges.

Ratchet wakes the whole base pounding on Optimus’s door at some odd hour of the morning, using his medical override when it doesn’t open fast enough. The Prime is unresponsive in his berth and the vital sign monitor on the medic’s arm is beeping urgently.

“Get me energon, now!” he barks an order at the nearest autobot. “He’s dropping into stasis lock.”

“What?!”

Bumblebee returns in record time and Ratchet immediately sends him out for more as he sets up for an emergency transfusion. He’s mumbling feverishly to himself as he scans the larger mech; it shouldn’t be possible. He had to have ruptured something internally while he was resting to have his energon levels dropping that fast! His sparkpulse was dangerously low, and his energon level was less than 5%. There was a breach somewhere in his body, there had to be.

The scans all come back clean. All of his fuel tubing is intact. His internal processing system is perfectly pristine. There’s no report of any obstructions, no weird fuel demands anywhere else. It’s like-

The vital sign monitor wails on his arm, and Ratchet swears. “Bulkhead!”

It’s no small feat getting the three of them into the medbay when they’re all unconscious and can’t walk. As soon as he finishes transfusing one another’s monitor goes off, and the scans are useless. They all come back the picture of health, there’s nothing wrong with them! Pulse normal, all internal organs functioning optimally. There’s no leaks, no breakages, no nothing. The fuel is entering exactly where it’s supposed to, it’s staying where it’s supposed to. The only explanation is that the weird decepticon fuel-weapon thing. Their metabolism has skyrocketed to unmanageable levels–no sooner has the fuel entered their tanks is it being digested. It’s like it’s just vanishing, evaporating. It’s going in, it’s not leaking anywhere, but it’s somehow not reaching the rest of their bodies.

Honestly, it’s a brilliant weapon.

“...we need more energon,” he announces hollowly after half a megacycle of adrenaline fueled rushing. “They’ll starve by sunrise if we don’t get more.”

Of course… he could cut off the supply of one to prolong the other two. Obviously Optimus would be the first he’d preserve, but how to choose between Bulkhead and Ultra Magnus? His mind scrambles between them, weighing the pros and cons, which would be more of an asset on earth and thereafter-

“More energon, got it,” Arcee is already taking charge, jabbing a finger at the door and ordering the two younglings, “Bee, Smokescreen, with me. We’ll be back, Ratchet.”

After a solemn moment, he nods. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

…

Three sleepless days later, their plight ends at last. They’d done nothing but feverishly hunt for mines and steal as much energon as they could, quickly bringing it back to base, rinse and repeat without rest. They’re all ready to drop and can barely soldier ahead when finally, finally, Optimus Prime opens his optics and sits up on the medical berth like he hadn’t just been in a starvation coma for the last three days.

“Ratchet,” he says, very quietly. “I am going to vomit.”

“Wha-”

He leans over the side and wretches, violently, half-digested energon and internal fuel-tank acids splashing onto the floor. Ratchet backpedals in surprise, but he’s not done, clamping one servo over his mouth and stumbling out of the berth to make a dash for the sinks but it’s no use–his legs are wobbly from lack of fuel and use alike, and more vomit splashes through his fingers despite his best effort, and he stumbles to his knees. One servo planted on the floor and the other still trying to hold it in, he heaves once, twice, and hacks out a sheet of clear, slimy sludge.

“Optimus-” Ratchet wrenches his servo down from his face–last thing they needed was their leader drowning himself on his own purged fuel! “Stop, stop, just let it come-”

An earth shattering clang and Bulkhead rolls right off his berth, and is still laying, dazed, on his back when he starts violently gagging too. Ultra Magnus is the last one up, and at least has the decency to apologize for throwing up all over the slab he’s just defiled.

The stench is unbearable, the metal tang of energon mixed with hydrochloric acid and there’s no containing the mess–the scanners don’t give any sort of indication as to what’s going on, why they’re suddenly so violently rejecting the fuel their bodies had been so desperate for just minutes ago. The vital sign monitor suddenly wails and Optimus chokes grandly, clawing at his chassis–and Ratchet sees that something has jammed his primary fuel tube. It’s such a large obstruction that it’s crushing his aeration tubing and causing it to collapse. In response his core temperature is rising dangerously quickly, vents gushing and labored as his body hitches and rolls, trying to get it out and gagging grandly.

He’s choking, and his system’s are in a frenzy, red light blaring in his vision and emergency messages flooding his HUD.

“On your back!” Ratchet orders, shoving him down and turning him over. If it doesn’t dislodge itself in the next 10 nanokliks he’ll have to open him up to remove it surgically. “Arms down, down! I need-”

The monitor blares again and Ultra Magnus starts choking too. Bulkhead is right behind him. Slag, slag, slag-!

“ARCEE!” he yells aloud and into his comms, praying she’s still on base. He’s going to need someone else’s hands if he’s going to help them all-

Optimus makes a strangled, wheezing noise, and his back bows off the ground, servos scrabbling at his throat. His pedes dig at the ground as if struggling for traction, and without warning a tiny, flailing arm reaches out of the Prime’s throat. Ratchet recoils in horror with a strangled, “By the Allspark…!”

Tiny claws dig into his bottom denta, and a second servo reaches to join them. Optimus rolls onto his side and purges again, and out of his mouth falls an honest to Primus sparkling, dripping energon sludge and shaking itself off, rolling over in the puddle of sick and rubbing it’s face into the ground, whining loudly.

It’s a wiry, gaunt little thing, with a sunken, too-thin face and what are definitely wing nubs beginning to furl out and harden on it’s back. Optimus stares at it, open-mouthed and speechless, for a solid five seconds before wretching again.

There’s more than one!

The sparkling bumbles clumsily out of the puddle and glances around, before promptly throwing it’s helm back, unhinging it’s jaw, and letting out the loudest, most unholy sound Ratchet has ever heard. The walls shake, he can feel the floor vibrating beneath his pedes with the force of the soundwaves the newborn is making. It’s high pitched, and shrill, and horrible, echoing and wailing like the worst kind of alarm. It runs away from him when he makes to pick it up, hoping to… he doesn’t even know what, and skitters under the nearest berth. It starts up screaming again, louder this time, and at last Arcee stumbles in through the door, clutching her helm.

“What is that?!”

“No time!” he can barely hear himself over the noise. “We need-”

“RATCHE-E-ET!” Bulkhead bellows like the world is ending, and the sheer terror in his voice draws the medic over. There’s a sparkling hanging half out of his mouth and he’s struggling to yank it out at the same time there’s a horrible grinding sound from his midsection, and something punches outward and straight through his plating. It’s a tiny pede this time, a tiny thruster, and within seconds the hole is torn open larger, bent inward and stretched further, and the upper half of another horrifying little abomination pops through. It wriggles, twists, and promptly tumbles down his midsection and onto the floor. It runs off too, a sibling in hot pursuit, joining the screaming one under the berth. Bulkhead is bleeding profusely from the wound on his midsection as the hellspawn join their sibling in the ungodly shrieking, and somewhere in the room, glass shatters. The soundwaves are so powerful they make the medic’s servos shake as he’s scrambling to stop the bleeding. It goes all the way to his primary fuel pump, and he realizes with horror.

The little parasites must have been in those spherical energon pods, and had anchored themselves within their bodies to steal energon and continue development. The first few had crawled out the way they entered, but the others-!

Bulkhead wheezes and collapses backwards, unconscious as his fuel tank is punctured again and another sparkling punches through, a bit further north than the previous two. Ratchet tries to grab it but it’s slippery, and no sooner has he wrapped one servo around it has it sunk it’s razor sharp, serrated denta into his finger and torn off a chunk of his mesh. Swearing in pain, he drops it, and the little hellion bounces off his knee and onto the floor, rolling thrice and having the audacity to hiss at him before scampering away. This one doesn’t go under the berth, though: it makes a beeline for the console and is immediately starting to scale the perfectly vertical surface to get halfway up the wall. It shimmies up the wall like a god damn gecko and disappears into the rafters. To make matters worse, it starts screaming too.

Smokescreen had brought in 11 of those energon pods–eggs, they were eggs Ratchet had by now realized–and that meant 11 tiny, Unicron spawned parasites trying to violently escape their unconventional hosts’ bodies.

He had just barely stopped Bulkhead from bleeding out when Magnus threw up two at once, a pair of twins, and his midsection suddenly bowed outwards and an unholy screeching trio burst out of him as one. Five in Magnus, three in Bulkhead, that left four for Optimus. He was the only lucky one, as all four of the sparklings had decided to exit the way they entered. There was severe damage to fuel systems all around, cracked and shredded tubing and wounds in the mouth from the babies’ sharp claws, but they were going to live, thankfully.

There were 12 in total, and after getting a good look at them their parentage was unmistakable–even if they hadn’t known Smokescreen had stolen them from Starscream, they were all in his spitting image. The same sickly thin frames, too-small arms and legs and papery wings, sunken faces and optics far too big for their helms. Mouths full of several rows of curved, knife-like denta with jaw strength great enough to bite through an adult mech’s armor plating. And if that wasn’t enough to confirm it, the screaming set it in stone: the windows had long since shattered in the wake of all 12 voices hollering as loud as they could. They didn’t even seem to be all that distressed: there were no tears, no sobbing, just insistent, never ending wailing like those earthen emergency sirens. Only Starscream’s spawn could ever be this loud.

It took them over two megacycles to round them all up and get them out of the medbay so Ratchet could fix the non-lethal injuries in relative peace. They couldn’t make a decision on what to do with them all until the three unwitting incubators had a clean bill of health. Ratchet knew Optimus would want to do the right thing: return them to their mother. No wonder Starscream had been going crazy for the last month, it all made sense now, and he surely wouldn’t rest until he found his wayward offspring.

Keeping the twelve of them in the main room wasn’t too difficult, so long as the doors all stayed closed. Resisting the urge to strangle them, however, was much more difficult. Within 2 kliks Arcee was ready to power up the ground bridge and go dump them in the wilderness somewhere. The little hellspawn were borderline indestructible, as all sparklings were by earth standards. More than once one had fallen more than fifty feet from the rafters to the floor and had done little more than wheeze a few times before shaking themselves off and scurrying to climb back up.

She’d never seen a baby seeker before. No one had. The snobs never came down from Vos before the war, and no one was having sparklings in an active warzone.

Or, well. No one smart was.

Regardless. She’d never seen a seekerling before, and she honestly wasn’t sure if they were all this crazy or if they were so messed up on account of being Starscream’s spawn. It wasn’t just the screaming, no: it was the way their jaws unhinged to stick things in their mouths. It was the way their helms spun 180 degrees to look at things, it was the three-to-four rows of denta they all had. It was the way they flickered in and out of existence, some kind of unstable camouflage/invisibility, it was the way they climbed the walls and were hanging upside down from the ceiling while never letting up the ungodly wailing. They were only about human size but so loud they could be heard more than a mile away.

A fact evidenced by Agent Fowler’s sudden arrival. He couldn’t hear them, but they could hear him, barely. Informing them that the sparklings were causing a serious, dangerous disturbance in radio communication, and were to be moved offsite, underground, immediately. Arcee didn’t have it in her to argue.

#brandwhore writes #cryptid seekers au #second part involves the sparklings eating a bunch of government agents cuz the us govt is a little bitch #jk it's because they're chock full of tasty iron and other elements and the babies are hungry #i hope you guys enjoy starscream's crazy adorable little parasites as much as i do #when he gets them back he'll be cooing about how adorable and precious they are meanwhile everyone else is deeply disturbed

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ofallthingsnasty · 2 years

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Ooof lemme just touch on my thoughts with American forests? Bc I grew up in the middle of nowhere, and currently I'm living by what's supposed to be a protected forest, but is slowly being chipped away at for more developments. This may sound like a weird breakdown but eh, I'm on anon so like. It be what it be!

But like. The vibes vary? I worked at a nature center for a bit and you could tell the woods fostered a sort of love towards it's visitors, a lot of who were little kids on field trips to learn? I can see these spaces reflecting the memories and emotions of the area, and there was a bunch of laughter and overall fun to be had!

The forest next to me? Being developed very slowly? Dude it's angry or something is. I have to wake up at 3am-ish for work and you can hear things on the way past driving by? Things that sound a bit off. Moving shadows in the corner of your eye, displaced deer and bear and all sorts of critters roaming the streets at night.

I hate that this weird housing market boom is causing these companies to buy up land in an attempt to make failing developments; the amount of abandoned developments that have just bulldozed the forest, paved the roads, made a example house and just. Never went further than that is sad. If anyone moves into that area like good luck. As an extra special edition, there's a giant sinkhole in that area, meaning if they develop it, basically they'd be selling shit homes that'd constantly need repair bc of the shifting earth underneath with a real risk of one day just being sucked into the earth?

I dunno, I've always been drawn to the water more than the forest? Like throw me in the water and my soul feels at home, the forest to me is beautiful! But not my particular jam. But man also fucked up water mythos is also a bigass vibe

hfjdhsj that sounds scary omg - ngl American forests/wildlife legitimately scare me. I was around 19/20ish when I learned that the US is still super wild, for the lack of a better word - and that people die of exposure, get attacked by predators etc. That is absolutely bewildering to me. We have very little virgin forests left iirc. It's either commercially used forests (my family owns some odd hectars of one, actually! and if you think it makes big money... it doesn't 😂 we've just been farmers for eons) or very young forest that is barely recovering (yes there are ancient oaks etc but many conservatory efforts have only been made during the 19th century!). So while we do have nice forests, thick and lush - they pale in comparison to what we had centuries ago. The Battle of the Teutoburg Forest is legendary for a reason, the Romans were fucking going through it in all that muck. I just- listen the last time we had a free bear in Germany, he got a fancy name, was tracked and everyone FLIPPED THE FUCK OUT UNTIL HE GOT SHOT RIP. We called him 'Bruno the problem bear'. Like. We're scared, okay? And Americans go camping and put their food in another container outside of their tents "because there's bears *shrug*" BRO I- WDYM THERE ARE BEARS- GET ME OUT OF HERE

Seriously, the US is unfathomable to my feeble middle-European mind lmao

And yeah, like you said!! Forests are weird places... And I totally get why humans of ye olden times™ had a million tales surrounding them. I hate forests at night, tepid European ones or not 😭 (also.... sinkholes are so dangerous?? holy shit, whatever they're doing at your place, that should be illegal jeez. Never underestimate nature, people die from that)

(Haha if you like water you'd like my home state!! We have lakes everywhere + the Spree Forest. But we've been getting a little 'muddier' in these last couple of years haha) And water-based myths!!! I grew up with creepy water witches and nymphs!! There's one very specific to my region and he's a mean little fucker who kills children by drowning them/clubbing them and putting their souls in pots. He also loves to play cards lol Are there any water-based cryptids etc in America, actually? I don't think I've ever heard of one of those... There probably are, I'm just not aware 🤔

#ask #anon #tw long post #jeez sorry for the wall of text there haha

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many-gay-magpies · 2 years

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i very much look forward to your heeseung drawing !! i will keep a sharp eye out for any more art and will support accordingly (so btw i have actually interacted with your posts a few times on my old account and it always feels like that "laughs in hidden" meme. i am working on reviving that old account)

NO BC THE IDEA OF AN AROACE PERSON OR LIKE . A LESBIAN BEING IMMUNE TO THE VAMPS' HOTNESS IS REALLY FUNNY BC IMAGINE ONE OF THEM GETTING CAUGHT DOING QUESTIONABLE SHIT AND TRYING TO CHARM THEIR WAY OUT AND THIS LESBIAN STUDENT IS LIKE "oh no you cant flirt your way out of this one, prettyboy. now how the FUCK are your hands on fire." but logically i assume the 'charm' still works on people who wouldn't be attracted to them anyway though– i mean theoretically half of decelis's student body is straight men yet They are all somewhat charmed by the vamps too. so i guess they've just got some kind of charisma/aura that puts people at ease and makes them comfortable. a person can be captivating without the need for attraction, i think

okay but heli stepping out of the shadows like "dontscreampleasei'mjustwalking" is also hilarious like the poor student would be so scared. also someone recognizing solon and realizing that if solon is one of the phantoms walking around, maybe his brothers, the other Weirdos Of Decelis, are the others. the next night the student goes on a walk and catches a shadow with bright green eyes and whispers "hi, jakah" into the darkness, scaring the shit out of the star highball player. "how did you know it was me??? its so dark out here????" "are you aware that your eyes are neon green and light up like glowsticks?"

-vrvr anon

aaaa think you im vv excited (both about finishing/posting it in general and seeing what you think about it)!!!

okay but how would you feel if i admitted that im pretty sure i know what your blog is but i havent said anything or interacted with it because the lil anon ask + answer back-and-forth dynamic is oddly precious to me (and also you mentioned trying to revive it before so i figured you'd interact yourself when the time came)

YEAH THE IDEA IS SO FUNNY SHFBFJBF and im honestly not sure if it would be like. a sexuality/orientation thing necessarily. or if its like all the girls at school (that are attracted to men) are crazy into these seven boys and theyre attractive and (seem) cool and popular, so all the BOYS at decelis (that ARENT attracted to men) either look up to them/want to be like them/be friends with them or they're jealous that they get all the girls' attention. meanwhile idk the lesbians think theyre cool or something?? idk. and in the "new student comes to decelis and immediately sees that the seven popular guys are total fucking dorks, seriously how are these guys the pinacle of cool jocks to you?" scenario im guessing it would be partially aroace influence but also partially the fact the new student hasnt been drenched in decelis school "culture" yet so they're more disillusioned towards the whole popular cliques thing. and yeah totally im 100% behind the idea of the boys being captivating REGARDLESS of someone's orientation, and the new student could absolutely be like "yes i recognize that theyre very pretty and have nice personalities or whatever but this idiot (jino) set the dorm kitchen on fire trying to bake cookies last week and this idiot (noa) got stuck on the roof at 2 am and had to be helped down by one of his brothers, who then ALSO got stuck on the roof. yall have been blinded"

with that being said though the concept of a lesbian student catching one of the brothers red-handed (possibly literally in jino's case) as theyre pulling some stupid shit, and the brother in question trying to flirt/charm their way out of it and failing is just. very funny to me.

YEAH THE DISINTEGRATION OF THE WHOLE CRYPTID THING IS A GREAT CONCEPT . like maybe after heli comes out to comfort the student he accidentally scared that same student starts to notice the other "phantoms" wandering around and think. hey wait maybe theres something else going on here. and they connect the dots for the first time after seeing a "phantom" with heterochromatic eyes LMAO. and bit by bit they start to pick out who each of the "phantoms" are via their eye colors, but they don't say anything for a while because they aren't really sure what there is to DO about it. then they decide to test out the theory by calling out the name of the "phantom" in a completely casual greeting and scaring the shit out of whichever brother thought they were the one doing the spooking in that particular hallway. its all great fun! (and maybe that student pulls all the brothers aside later like "okay so. idk if yall are aware or not but your eyes LITERALLY GLOW in the dark. if theres any freaky supernatural shit going on with you guys i wont tell, but you should probably do less wandering around at night or at least make sure no one can figure out its you.")

#asks #anon 📝#vrvr anon #dark moon nonsense #dark moon

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explxsiveoutcxst · 3 years

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Of all the horrible creatures you’ve met, which one are you most afraid of?

“.............................L-Lemon, Updyke, an’ that t-tentacle thingy with th’ knives. I-I know ya said one, b-but...th-they’re all th’ worst...”

[M!A: Truth - 2/15]

#Just a bomb trying to survive. {ic}#What is it? {Ask}#Anonymous #yes he means cryptid anon with that last one #but if it was just based off my canon #and not any on-blog events #then it'd just be updyke and lemon #like. no doubt abt it. those guys were my worst nightmare

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fanficmemes · 3 years

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Hey guys!!! Thanks to our lovely anon/blog historian, Soupy, we now have a recorded history!! Blog lore, my beloved. I'll try and start adding in our new things too, but to any newbies out there, come take a look :):):):)

About the lore for this blog, i cannot remember everything, but i can do something about the cursed asks lore and history, since i just scrolled all the posts in the tags!

31 Jan 2021: an anonymous send an ask asking what people actually mean when they tell a ship if "pedophilic". This start a big number of asks about real survivor and how fucked up is fandom water down the word, purity culture, and consequently story time about harassing people in fandom for purity culture.

1 Feb 2021: someone speak about how much fucked up fics helped them. This probably opened the possibility of cursed asks. The same day, someone other send an ask about a terrible person known for harassing people about the sexuality of a character. The person is called "train fucker".

2 Feb 2021: anonymous point the attention on the train fucking thing. The cursed ask tag is created.

In the following hours, always in the cursed ask tag, people discover the fandom was Death Note and the guy was apparently in real attracted to trains and planes. Hell break down, memes are created.

History is made.

One of the characters will later become protagonists of the tag already existed. PKD already was knew since the 22 Jan 2021, when they sent an ask about the color asks and you had the intuition the tags he was probably someone with a piss kink and the tag "chronicles of piss" was created.

Cursed ask history part 2:

At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.

The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".

This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.

Cursed ask history part 2:

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Cursed ask history part 3:

The philanthropist appeared the same day #the cancel scale started. With their iconic "i am a shameless philanthropist and so my bookmarks are public. I eat dead doves for breakfast. Come on down to the buffet y'all! You want some wound fucking? 8-yr-old omega abortion? I got you fam, watch me scramble these eggs" they left a forever sign in this blog. Still to this days asks are written to know if they are good. They obtained a 12/10 in the cancel scale.

Wound fucking discourse started, also the same day, by CB answering "is that where the wound fucking comes in??" At a ask about vivisection and medical experimentation. Discourse about what classify as a wound and how it works continued trought the day.

Rpf bdsm is thought to have beat the philanthropist with their mix of rape, underage, incest in a foursome, huge age, rpf tentacles and, mostly, someone getting turned into a pickle and his partner fucking himself with it.

This also started a string of asks about people being transformed in object used for sex.

Rpf bdsm would appear again later that day to specify the pickle fic was a rpf.

Cursed ask history part 4 (i think? Already lost the count)

Mlp guy. The one and only. Always in the terrible 2 Jan 2021, they first appeared in the tags of an answer to a marvel ask. #Hey HEY mlp guy #u know who u r #i'm afraid to look at this ask #like yeah we saw some shit tonight but this blows that outta the fuckin WATER #y'all would dead ass have to pay me to post it

Someone noticed the tags and asked about it, and a strong sexual tension between everyone and the unpublished mlp ask started. Someone ended up paying, cause the ask was later published as last post of the day and terrorized every follower of the blog. It was published as screenshot of the ask, and is not even put in the #cancel scale.

MLP guy stayed so in the apex of the cursed asks for some months, till the Pokémon ask by soupy was published the 9th may 2021, taking home a 15/10. MLP guy made a Tumblr profile, @therealmlpguy, in retiliation, and reblogged answering with a new terribly cursed fic. CB have still not voted it, so who have the worst cursed ask is still in question.

The day of #cancel scale the blog fanficmemes lost many followers, but the story was, as we know, not finished.

Cursed ask history part 5

I like to stay an half cryptid of this blog, so i will not tell my blog of origin, but i can tell you I am Soupy. Also i need to know if i am actually considered a cryptic of the blog and if i need to make a lore post about myself XD.

This is starting to get hard cause i cannot reread what i already sent, but the end of the tunnel is near.

We already told about owl fucking anon in the cursed ask tag, but their story is a bit more longer. The cursed ask was actually their big return, and they are probably one of the most proficious lore making, having also a part in the creation of the PKD legend. They should really have their own tag.

How? Well.

The 17 Jan 2021, when the big part of the cancel scale was done and the elders of the lore created, they sent an anon ask about what the cancel scale made them remember. It was a fic, red when they were ten or eleven, about someone fucking an owl while the owl was on their period. Consensual, and apparently the authors were two teen girl who write only character x owl. Their mom proofread. CB answered with their profile picture, edited so that it red "i can't believe it's gotten even worse!" Instead of "i can't believe it's not canon".

This post created, if we want to say, PKD, cause their first ask, that assigned them piss kink, was yes about the color asks (that, in case someone does not remember, was CB asking what colors people assigned to them), but had as explanation "if you keep posting stuff like the owl period whatever". So the owl fucking anon indirectly created, the 22 Jan 2021, PKD.

Owl fucking anon continued their ascension to lore of the blog.

The 12th Feb 2021 sent an ask were they were surprised someone had found Hagrid x Hedwing fics, and than sent anther 9 parts ask about the story of how they red lot of cursed shits thanks to an old tumblr blog that had the links, and how from there they found an author who only published Hagrid x Hedwing, and how that introduced them to FF smut.

(it is also discovered they are only 15, baby, please, i am noone to talk with the shits i red at the time but i hope you are ok).

They are now consacrated in the memory of the blog.

Cursed ask history part 6

Before continuing with the history of the cursed asks, is now time to finally give a small talk about PKD. We know how they originated, but how they become so famous?

Probably is the fact they appeared so many time during the last months. Being it for cancel scale, cursed asks or just normal asks, they continue to give us company with their exploration of piss kink fic. Is true they soundly negate having the kink the first months, but after lot of memes and people speaking about it, the 25 Apr 2021 they finally admitted of having the kink,and discovered it reading an a/b/o Captain America fic.

I would suggest to read all the posts, but they stopped being tagged halfway through, so is half in the specific #chronicles of piss and half in the #cursed ask

Cursed ask history part 7

The big lore is finished, and now only the later history stay.

#cancel scale posts and #cursed asks post lived side by side for some days. The owl fucking one of the 12 Feb was actually the last cursed fic published in the cancel scale post, leaving the tag only for some history reference later.

#cursed asks saw the appearence of every type of cursed possible to thought, with scat and nipple fucking between the different tags. At the start there was no specific day chosen, but later, for CB schedule reasons, Saturday was assigned as cursed ask day, and some week later it was moved to Sunday.

And here we are, today, to see what other cursed things we will bring in this world

Cursed fic History part 8

The cursed fic History have been covered, but i still think is important to talk about some of the before time tags that created the good ecosystem for the creation of #cursed ask.

The most famous is #the lube discussion.

It started the 23 Aug 2020, when CB wrote a post about FF using the word "supple" in smut without the thing being actually supple. In the tag, they added #also #that does Not work as lube.

Some anon asked what was being used as lube, that was answered with "one was peanut butter. I will not discuss the other". This started the bug lube discussion, were everyone talked about what they continingly see used as lube when it cannot be used as lube.

Between the classics soap and blood, we see some more daring one as mud, yogurt, aloe vera, years, milk, hot sauce and the more intersting, cannoli (have no idea if they are talking about the cream you put in cannoli or some american thing i don't know).

Nothing reached cursed material, but it put the first seed for the blog.

#blog lore #my dearest soup #my response to your first letter will be posted swiftly #I got distracted bc I forgot that we don’t know each other irl #and I was gonna press some flowers for u #(they’re still being pressed but I’ll send a pic I forgot that I can’t send real flowers over text #but again thank you so much for doing this #also I really wish I would’ve tagged shit better #maybe I wanted to go back and reread chronicles of piss #but nooooooo I just had to forget about it halfway through #anyways here we go #cursed asks #the lube discussions #chronicles of piss

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otomes-and-tears · 3 years

Note

Hi Bee ! With chapter 13 that just came out, we now know that Ellie and Tyler knew about Tegan's crush on Scholar, right ? I was wondering if you could write a scenario where he admit it to them i mean they probably forced him to spill the beans but still

A/N: One of my favourite things about otome is seeing the love interests interact with each other.

I don’t like when a game begins and ends on their relationship with the protagonist.

I don’t like seeing the love interest’s lives revolving around a single character.

I like seeing how they interact with their friends, with their enemies, how their lives were before they met the MC and how their presence impacts them.

I think these types of scenes are just as important, if not more, than the romance itself.

With all that being said… I love the dynamic between TnT and Ellie and I will protect this little chaotic trio with my LIFE.

Btw, I usually do my requests in order, but I saw this on my asks and it was like I was slapped in the face with creativity. Thank you anon.

Tegan telling Tyler and Ellie about his crush on scholar

“You seem distracted.” Ellie looks up from the blueprint on her desk to watch Tegan, a playful smirk on her face.

More than a week has passed since Tadashi’s re-election and things had just started to get back to normal. There was still tension in the school’s halls about the Nakano scandal, but that was par for the course with such big news.

Ellie had flooded their private group chat a couple of nights ago on an ungodly hour suggesting an elaborate prank on Tadashi. It was more of an excuse to provide some much-needed fun to their group of friends, so Tyler and Tegan jumped at the opportunity as soon as it presented itself.

As usual, they met at Ellie’s room after classes and spent the last couple of days looking up materials and plans.

They would use the Arlingtonator created by the Health Sciences Department as an inspiration to create their own version of the local cryptid just in time for Halloween.

Tyler was working on the creature’s final sketch, Ellie was studying one of her old blueprints as reference and Tegan... Well, Tegan was supposed to get a head start on the code. His laptop was open, but he was staring off into the distance.

Ellie’s comment pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I’m just tired.”

He looked back into the screen, willing himself to just focus.

Ellie’s smile just grew as she watched him squirming under her watchful eyes. Tegan was hiding something, and she had an inkling of what it might be about.

Making him talk would be fun.

“That never stopped you before.”

Tyler stopped furiously sketching the monster to make that observation, eyeing his best friend suspiciously.

“Is there something in your mind, Teegs?” Ellie said, in a sing song-y voice. “Or… Someone?”

The furious blush that emerged on his face was all the proof she needed. Tyler beamed at the confirmation, seemingly happy for his best friend.

“N-No there isn’t anybody...” Tegan muttered, but one glance at his friends told him that it wasn’t convincing enough. “I—“

“Don’t worry, bro. We’re not telling.”

Tyler’s smile turned gentle. As much as he liked teasing his best friend, Tegan looked a second away from exploding in embarrassment.

Ellie nodded excitedly, momentarily forgetting their project.

“With that being said... It’s Scholar, isn’t it?”

Tyler said, and Tegan hid his face in his hands with embarrassment. Ellie quickly extended a hand so the artist could high-five her.

“Was I too obvious?”

The redhead asked, frustrated.

“For us? yes.”

Ellie admits, with a smirk.

“I’m not sure the others noticed yet if that makes you feel better.” Tyler quickly added. “So... Since when?”

“The department competition, I guess? I’m not really sure...” He trailed off, the tips of his ears getting redder with embarrassment. “I always knew they were pretty, but... Seeing them presenting and being passionate about it...I....I don’t know, I started noticing them more. And now... I like them.”

He was still refusing to make eye contact, but he stopped hiding his face, which was progress.

Ellie left her desk to sit next to Tegan on the couch, being careful to let enough space in between them. When he got too deep in his own head it wasn’t uncommon for him to get startled easily. Tegan was more of a danger to himself, but Ellie was accidentally hit once and still wasn’t over it.

“Hey, dude, we’re happy for you!”

Tyler assured him.

“Yeah! I don’t think I have ever seen you acting like this because of someone.” Only when he looks at her does Ellie take a risk and touches his arm. He doesn’t flinch nor flail, which is another good sign. “And Scholar is great! No need to feel embarrassed for liking them.”

“I’m not embarrassed that I like them.” His voice is vulnerable, and both Tyler and Ellie quiet down to listen to him. Tegan isn’t this open often, and even if he’s talking about something silly as a crush the fact that he chose to share what he is feeling is a big deal. “I’m embarrassed because It’s hopeless. I know there is no way they’ll ever like me back...”

“Why not?” Tyler seemed legitimately shocked at the idea. “You’re pretty cool, dude. If they don’t see that then they’re not worthy of your time.”

“And besides... Scholar does seem interested.”

Ellie notes and looks at Tyler for confirmation, who agrees.

“You think so?”

They didn’t miss how hopeful Tegan sounded.

“I do.”

Ellie hugs him and Tyler soon follows. Tegan tenses at first but quickly relaxes, already somewhat used to his friends being affectionate.

“Can we please go back to the Arlingtonator now?”

#I chose this time frame because #it kind of seems like Tyler and Ellie are already aware of his crush on scholar by halloween #Oh yeah #after this all happens #ellie makes a groupchat with tyler called ''opperation ship''#where they discuss ways to help tegan and scholar #but it ends up becoming more of a support group of sorts #where they scream about how frustrating the two of them are #one by one the rest of the main ten (minus tegan) end up joining as well #they even make bets on when they will start dating #sweet elite #bee writes fluff #bee's writing #tegan novak #tegan sweet elite

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

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I'm curious for your take on a fashion trend that always has been hanging out in the wings, but seems to have really taken off in K-Pop in particular the last few years.

It seems like every way I look these days, we're getting hit with luxury "looks" that are legit just the luxury brand printed all over a bland or non-innovative item. This definitely isn't new (it makes me think of the prevalence of those stupid - and stupidly expensive - Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirts in the US back in the 2000s), but I feel like it's now seeping into K-Pop album concept photos and stage outfits in addition to just their every day fashion/sponsored photo shoots. In some cases it doesn't bother me as much because its a small addition (like Sunmi's triangle Prada barrettes in some of her latest comeback photos - I don't like the barrettes, but they work because the wider concept is great) or its used unconventionally (like TxT's latest concept photos, where you can see some of the usual brands but thrown together with unconventional pieces so they feel fresh).

But in other cases, it feels like they're just phoning it in by picking luxury clothing so they can say "look, we're expensive" and calling it a day. I'd submit the examples of The Boyz in some of their latest teasers, the latest Stray Kids concept photos, and quite a few of Blackpink's albums/promotions since they all have their own brand sponsors that they stick to these days. A lot of American celebrities are guilty of this as well so its not just K-Pop, but I honestly just don't expect more from Hollywood like I do from K-Pop.

It's clear that you can have effective styling without defaulting to the luxury branding (A.C.E comes to mind immediately), and there are plenty of luxury pieces that don't have their branding all over it that often allow the same luxury feel without shoving the brand in your face. So this branded merchandise trend really ends up rubbing me the wrong way.

What are your thoughts? I think my stance is clear, but I'd love a different perspective from someone that has a lot more background in fashion, particularly stage fashion, than myself.

anon ilu i have many thoughts on this topic but i don't think i've ever mentioned it before so thank you thank you for somehow reading my single braincell and asking about it!

basically for anyone who doesn't want to read me going off about luxury branding the tldr is yes i agree, i personally don't like branding in general and luxury branding especially. i don't own a single item of clothing or accessory with an obvious/recognizable brand logo and i haven't for probably over a decade now. now let's get into some nitty gritty.

in the current fashion climate i think most of the time it's tacky to display wealth so openly and obviously and it is one of the main factors in driving the machine of fashion consumerist culture. i also think it's a weak styling choice because it only has one association: money. 99% of the time it does not contribute anything meaningful to the artistic vision of the work and it's just to brag. sm stylists pull off luxury branding better than most other groups because they tend to integrate it well into the overall aesthetics of the specific mvs, and it's usually pretty sparing. with sm they use it more as a confirmation of the quality of the sm brand than just boasting about money in general. notable examples where i think visible branding works are kun's supreme jacket in kick back, and taemin's balenciaga 2017 in day and night, because both well integrated into the aesthetics of the videos and they're also offset by other looks. i also like the styling in bambam's ribbon, because although the whole mv is designer looks, he only uses one actually logo-ed one (louis vuitton escale summer 2020), which gives a visual indication of expense to anyone who isn't familiar with fashion. the only time i can think of an idol using a brand ironically is taemin's supreme instagram bad bitch outfit in advice, because he's parodying a specific look.

most of the clothing from designer houses is absent of logos, with the exception of a few (lv, gucci are the main offenders). but, there is the caveat that it does tend to be the ready to wear collections that have that kind of design. (ready to wear is the stuff that is available for off the rack purchase). here's a few examples:

taemin and key in balenciaga menswear ss2018 for story of light, taemin and ten in louis vuitton menswear ss2021 for advice and paint me naked.

in my opinion there's only one house that can get away with the irony of its own branding and that's balenciaga, because they consistently do the weirdest shit you could possibly think of. they have a collaboration with crocs. no i am not joking. the shoes for their fall 2021 collection are platemail stilettos. yes like the medieval armour. they launched that collection as a video game. they recently cleared their entire instagram but prior to that they were just letting models post cryptid blurry shots with no captions. there are designers that are doing interesting things, but very rarely is it with the physical branding itself. it's difficult because like i said before, it locks the audience into an extremely specific connotation and honestly most kpop stylists are not deft enough to work around that in a truly meaningful way.

the important things to hit in any styling are colour, harmony, and silhouette. thank you for bringing up a.c.e because i would have done it anyways, because their stylist is probably the best in the business right now. i talk about the basics here (of styling and of a.c.e in particular), but anon you are correct, a.c.e uses very very little branded styling and they look great. good styling is not about looking expensive, it's about looking the best as befitting of the concept.

but here's where we come to an important point. like with most things about kpop and western pop culture as a whole, luxury branding and streetwear as a trend has been appropriated from black hiphop artists and black streetwear fashion in the 90s and 00s. it started in the hood as a reclamation of items that were meant to be 'outside their station' (luxury) and an elevation of plainclothes that were available to them. sportswear by and large was always cheaper and mass produced, in comparision to day to day wear, which used more expensive materials and had more complicated construction. and was activities based only. it wasn't until around the 1860s that sportwear even existed at all, and even then it was not what you would think of as sportwear by modern standards. there was, up until the 1980s, a pretty strict unspoken dress code that if you wanted to be taken seriously in polite (white) society, you had to dress according to the class standards at the time. (this still exists by the way, it hasn't gone away at all, especially in relation to workplaces and black/natural hair). streetwear at the time was a form of celebration of black excellence and a subversion of white society. but like all innovations by black people, it got jacked by white america and now it's lost the meaning behind its context. on black bodies and paired with black achievements, branding is an important and relevant styling choice. on kpop boys? they're already lifting second hand at this point. do better.

#i didnt even talk about the new wealth vs old wealth aesthetic but whatever #theres a lot here ok!!!!#contemporary fashion gets complicated if you try to untangle the origins of trends #but the majority of them come from black culture #baggy/oversized clothing is another one #its not that i dont think people should be restricted from wearing specific things***#but it is important to acknowledge where those things came from #and if the population that started the trend of that thing is still subjected to persecution because of it #while others get deemed as 'cool' or trendy #maybe you should not be wearing that thing #and kpop has a history of not understanding contexts or crediting originators #(in aesthetics and in music)#so no i dont like luxury branding in kpop #***EXCEPT for traditional/ceremonial/religious garments #please for the love of all that is holy stop wearing fucking warbonnets #ah but the appropriation of native american/first nations imagery in kpop is a topic for another day #and also one that fans REALLY dont want to talk about #BUT do not take me for an authority here i am not an authority my opinions do not matter #listen to bipoc but also dont demand answers of them #google is right there #tumblr is so fucking garbage at image layouts and im too lazy to make it look nicer #but im pretty sure yall can see what im talking about #kpop questions #kpop analysis #text #answers #general design questions #kpop styling

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volturicangetit · 4 years

Text

A.C- used to this

Summary: you are picked on by other students. Alice plans to stop that and invites you to sit with her for lunch.

Request: YES/no Anon: Could you do a Alice Cullen x fem reader? Where the reader is a human who is a loner at school and gets bullied and one day Alice noticed and went over to the reader and invited them to sit with her and her family? (Idk something like that)

Warnings: slight bullying, cussing

Wordcount: 1129

High school wasn't a good time for anyone in Forks. Being cramped into a building with three thousand students who all hate this town does not create a good atmosphere. Your high school time is especially shitty, however. You don't have a lot of friends. Sure, you had some, but not a lot. You're quiet nature also made you an easy target for everyone looking for someone to pick on. How childish it sounds, you straight up got bullied, though you would tell that to anyone. You just kept your head down and endured it. You would leave this town for college in a couple of years anyways.

You sit down at your usual seat in the social studies classroom of building four. Your table is at the end of the classroom against the window. You prefered sitting there. When the class got too boring you could stare out of the window and daydream for a bit. Those plans are ruined however when your usual partner Jessica doesn't sit next to you but Chad. God, you hated that guy. Even his name makes you want to throw up. Who in their right mind names their child Chad? "Hey, Y/n," he says in a teasing tone. He plops bag down on the table with unnecessary force, making you cringe and causing the couple sitting in front of you to look behind them. From across the classroom, Jasper taps on Alice's arms as he notices the fear radiating from you. With a frown, they both look at you before placing their attention back at the teacher. Chad grabs your notebook too quickly for you to stop him. He opens it up and scans through the pages. "What's this?" he asks.

"Homework," you mumble softly as you grab at it to get it back. He shakes his head before placing a hand next to his ear as if he didn't hear you. "Speak up, no one likes a mumbler.". You nod. "My homework," you say a bit louder. He shakes his head with a disgusting smile.

"I forgot to make mine, I hope you don't mind me taking yours, right?" he says. You can feel your cheeks getting hot. You don't feel like going against him. You nod your head slowly. "Sure," you say before looking out the window again. You pulled an allnighter last night to finish it, but he doesn't need to know that. "Great, you are always so kind!" he says in an overly fake happy tone. He gives your arm a 'playful' punch, one that is way to hard. You cringe as you can already feel a bruise blossoming up from under your skin.

The class goes by to slow for your liking. To your luck, Mr Jefferson saw your interaction with Chad and didn't give you detention for not finishing your homework. He didn't tell Chad off, however. He said that 'boys will be boys'. Boys will be boys, you thought. The phrase is supposed to be used when boys do some weird shit like going to the woods at 3 a.m to see if some local cryptid is real, not when they are being an absolute asshole. But you didn't speak up to Mr Jefferson. Instead, you quietly make your way over to the cafeteria. You grab some food before you pay for it. An apple, a sandwich and a bottle of water. You look around to see if there are any free tables. Fortunately, your usual table is still completely empty. No one besides you sits on it anyways. Just as you take a step towards it, a cold hand is laid on your shoulder. You jump a little before turning around. Before you stand Alice Cullen. Her dark hair stands in every which way, perfectly framing her face, as he warm eyes look at you. "Sorry," she says in her honey-sweet voice. "Didn't mean to scare you.".

You shake your head, calming yourself down a bit. "No it's-it's alright," you mumble. "What can I do for you?". She removes her hand from your shoulder and places it on her hip instead. She points behind her with her free hand at the table with her siblings. "Do you want to sit with us?" she asks. You look at her with big eyes. You didn't even talk to the Cullens, maybe during classes. And now they want you to sit with them? "We-I thought it would be fun," she says. You nod your head carefully. "Sure,". A smile breaks out on her face as she grabs your plate and brings it to the table for you. You follow her silently and take place next to her.

Jasper tenses up as you sit down to which Alice lovingly grips his hand and gives him a loving smile. He relaxes a bit under her touch. "Well, well. Looks like Alice brought someone new," Emmett says from beside you. Jesus, that dude is huge. You nod as you begin to open your water bottle. "I'm-" you start to introduce yourself but Rosaly cuts you off. "We know who you are," she says. Her tone isn't cold though, it's quite friendly. You smile at her before quickly looking down again.

A conversation quickly starts as you all enjoy your lunch, you being the only one actually eating. You can hear soft whispers from fellow students, wondering why you are sitting at a table with the Cullens. You don't know why either, to be honest. You don't mind it, though. You didn't realize how comforting it is to sit with other people during lunch until now. The bell signalling you that your next class is to begins sounds like hell's bell's in your ears. You didn't want this to end but you knew that the Cullen's kindness wouldn't be everlasting. They probably just felt bad for you. You stand up as you gather all your stuff. "We have history together, don't we?" Alice asks. You nod. Alice grabs your hand with a smile. "Let's sit together!". You nod at her again, this time with a smile. She wanted to sit with you. She looks back at her siblings before saying her goodbyes.

"See you at second break!" she calls at them. She quickly looks at you. "You'll sit with us again then, right?". You nod again. So this wasn't a one-time thing. "O-Of course!". She smiles before dragging you along towards the history classroom. On your way there, you pass by Chad. This time, however, he doesn't throw a hurtful comment your way. Instead, he looks at you with big eyes. Alice just smirks at you, this was her plan. You feel a wave of confidence wash over you. It feels good not being called after. You could get used to this.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie @thanossexual @prettyinblack231 @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexburn12 @cullens-stuff

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chaotic-tired-cat · 3 years

Note

world walker to date is one of my most favorite fanfics ever. it's so well-written! not too op, with real difficulties and plot, but still light-hearted and funny! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 i hope life smoothens out for you so we can get an update of this awesome story! :D :D :D

Aaaa thanks Anon!! This ask made me super happy - I'm glad you like World Walker and that it hit the right balance between angst and comedic moments (tbh that's one of the things that's really hard to get right). Things are still hectic but as soon as they're not that chapter is getting finished!!!

Since it might be a while, have a post-World Walker scene from the pov of a couple civilians. It was written to try out Cryptid as Izuku's hero name (/^o^)/

(Note: this scene isn't canon to World Walker and was written before I knew how the story would end.)

“Why do you even think this is going to work?” Yua hovers around Mariko’s efforts in the Denny’s parking lot, careful to avoid stepping on the complicated design taking place under Mariko’s second piece of chalk. The first one was sacrificed to ward off a raccoon. They specifically chose to do this after midnight for the ambiance, but Yua is starting to have second thoughts.

It’s very dark, and they’re both fem-presenting teenagers with emitter quirks in a deserted part of town.

This is not a good place to be.

“I got the pattern off a hero,” Mariko assures her. “You know how I was in the gym when Uravity's fight hit school, right?”

Yes, and Yua is trying desperately to forget the worst day of her life, thank you.

“Uravity and Cryptid dug me out, but it was weird, because he drew this symbol on a piece of the roof and it just- stayed. In the air. Even when nothing was supporting it.” Mariko pauses, beaming at the magic circle that’s mostly made of lines and squiggles to complete the aesthetic. One of the symbols doesn't look right. It slides out of focus, and Yua carefully steps back, because hell no.

“How is that supposed to help us summon a ghost-”

“Finished! Start filming, hurry, hurry, hurry!” Mariko drops her piece of chalk as Yua scrambles to swipe open her camera. Before Yua can stop her, Mariko has drawn a pocket knife, cut the pad of her thumb, and is smearing blood on the unsanitary parking lot ground.

Delightful.

Her hand is going to get so infected.

That’s right about when the air above the circle tears itself apart.

Mariko shrieks. Yua almost runs, then remembers herself and makes sure her phone is pointed at the sliver of starlight shining out of thin air. She knows her horror film tropes. Whatever they released into the world is taking them first, but she can at least get a video account to warn people of what they did.

Eaten by a demon or some shit. That’s a bomb-ass obituary.

Pro Hero Cryptid crashes out of the portal, one hand protectively wrapped around a bowl half-full of salad. His Uravity sweatshirt mostly obscures Froppy sweatpants, but Yua is more alarmed by the fact that Cryptid looks surprisingly human. No needle-sharp teeth, no starlit eyes. Spinach flutters to the ground around the hero in a gentle shower of greenery that nestles in his curly hair as if adding to the foliage. He stares blankly at them, then at the scribbles under his feet, before pointing a truly pissed-off look at the sky.

“Are you serious?” Cryptid yells at the city skyline. A spinach leaf falls off his shoulder. “Right in front of my salad?”

“Holy shit,” Yua whispers, and discovers that she can, in fact, be more embarrassed than the time their teacher made the whole class sing ‘Happy Birthday’ while she stood in silent mortification on a chair. “We summoned him.”

Mariko claps both hands over her mouth to keep in her laughter, eyes wide. “We really did.”

This seems to draw the hero’s attention back to them.

“You two okay? Yes? Nobody’s hurt? Oh, thank goodness.” Cryptid stabs a fork into his vegetables, shoves it into his mouth, and makes grabby hands for the chalk. Mariko passes it over with a potent mix of awe and glee.

“I am so sorry,” Yua breathes.

Mariko sniffs. “I’m not.”

“And I’m glad to be summoned,” Cryptid finishes with a sunshine-smile. He’s very… human. The wrinkled eyebrows he directs at Mariko’s chalk art do not resemble the otherworldly creature that showed up during All Might’s last battle. “Better for me to be dropped here than for y’all to get… hm. Yeah, this is good.”

Hm?

Hm??

What does ‘hm’ mean?

Yua reaches over and frantically swats at Mariko’s sweatshirt in an attempt at telepathically communicating her many, many feelings concerning accidentally summoning a hero into this godsforsaken Denny’s parking lot.

“How did you find a stasis glyph?” Cryptid mumbles around his fork.

“Copied it from you. My quirk lets me mimic actions if I see them without blinking.” Mariko peers around his shoulder at the lines taking form.

“That’s such a cool quirk,” Cryptid tells her instantly. “Do you need a clear line of sight? Is it only capable of copying real-life actions or can you use recordings? Oh, are you limited to your own flexibility and strength, or is this a mirror skill instead of a mimic? You could use that for anything, it’s a very adaptable power.”

Yua cautiously edges closer to give the camera a better angle at the ground while Mariko preens. “What are you even doing?”

“Editing. Here, look- right there, you tied it down with intent contrary to the meaning.” Cryptid shuffles over so she can see and points out a circled section. He smudges out the blurry patch.

Mariko watches eagerly as the hero replaces it with a mishmash of lines that Yua can actually make sense of. “I don’t understand any of what you just said, but hell fuckin’ yeah, you funky lil’ cryptid.”

“Oh, sorry. I get called whenever the void gets angry, and this is the language it speaks,” Cryptid says, like this makes sense. He taps the lines eagerly. “Put a stasis glyph on the ground and continents will stop shifting, which is a whole lot of bad news."

"Uh huh," Mariko says. Yua swats at her again, because there's no way she understands and going along with this for entertainment value alone is going to get them into some sort of horror movie B-Plot.

Cryptid just looks amused. "Next time you need to experiment, use a paper base instead of the concrete. It’s safer. And- is that blood?”

“Maybe,” Mariko says, partially as a dare for him to say anything because she isn’t really the type to listen to anyone, regardless of if they’re a hero. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Huh. Yeah, you got me there.” Cryptid puts his bowl of salad on the ground and fishes around in his Uravity sweatshirt for a tiny med kit.

“Where’d we go wrong,” Mariko asks, like they are ever going to try this again. Yua hisses for her to stop and is ignored with the extreme confidence of someone determined to keep making the same continuous mistake until success is summoned through stubborn willpower alone.

“You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” Cryptid bandages her hand, slips away the medkit, and says gravely, “Blood never brings anything good.”

“Holy shit,” Yua repeats as Cryptid takes a bite of salad and goes right back to his art project like this happens every other Tuesday. Mariko glares at her, but honestly, this is the wildest thing.

The hero keeps saying things.

“Not to lecture either of you, but it’s a bad idea to mess around with unborn languages without supervision.” Cryptid hands back the chalk and takes another bite of his salad. “This stuff can blow up in your face. So, can I escort you guys anywhere? Because it’s a little dark and this isn’t exactly the safest part of town.”

That’s about when Yua realizes something under the spinach is glowing.

#Anon #Tired cat asks #World Walker #Fic snippet

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ladyfl4me · 4 years

Note

Hi please yell about boyd and stern in TCOS and TMWCIFTC :D!

Anon, THANK YOU for enabling me, you have my fucking life in your hands

I’ll preface all of this by saying that everything in this post is related to my long-form Amnesty works, The Moth who Came In from the Cold and The Children of Sylvain. If you haven’t read those, then you’ll be pretty damn confused, so I guess now is as good of a time to plug them - and the series - as any. A heads up: I started it back in 2018, and everything in TCOS is just… very VERY loosely associated with Amnesty canon at this point. Same root premise, same characters, but back in 2018 even I couldn’t predict where arcs 4 and 5 ended up going. TMWCIFTC was written as the logical progression, in my head, of an alternate arc 4, and everything that happened in TCOS is based off of that progression. It’s got almost no connection to the actual canon at this point. I’ll be recapping some of the more important plot points for context, though.

Here’s hoping the read-more works. This was 7 pages long in the google doc I prepared this in, so I apologize in advance to everyone on my dash if this got fucked up. Spoilers for TMWCIFTC ahead, as well as general vague spoilers for Amnesty.

So everything’s coming up roses. Fantastic. Let’s start with the biggest thing: how the characters of Agent Stern and Boyd Mosche have changed from canon to this AU.

Boyd’s Changes:

We’ll start with Boyd, because this motherfucker is UNRECOGNIZABLE from canon. On god, that is all Griffin’s fault. Pretty much all of Boyd’s character was concentrated in arc 4 of Amnesty, and honestly? He was a fantastic character there. Loved him as a counterpart to Ned. He gave off an air of “the ends justify the means” in almost everything he did - especially how he was willing to do anything, including blackmail Ned to hell and back, to get back to England - which I’ve grafted into my version of him. The angst-loving part of my brain seized on the tragic possibilities of his relationship with Ned and was bumping “No Children” by the Mountain Goats every time they interacted. Great stuff, interesting complexity, was genuinely surprised when he kicked it.

All that happened after I introduced him as a character in TMWCIFTC. My version of him retains the smooth-talking Britishness of him, with the aforementioned “ends justify the means” logic for everything; I’d probably sort him as a chaotic neutral, with basically all of his points in wisdom, charisma and strength with very few in intelligence. I tried to work with that for the start. We knew nothing about Boyd at the time I was writing TMWCIFTC, so my brain wanted to fill in that blank for jokes and giggles and haha funny’s and was like, “Yo what if Boyd was a Sylph this entire time? Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious?”

And that’s what I did. What happened to make this version of Boyd was a bit of a random “perfect storm” of influences and choices, which really only got sharpened because of my one-shot The Devil Went Down To Georgia. That one’s the main source of all Boyd lore, even though I barely reference it these days because he’s gone so far off the rails it’s a miracle I can keep him straight.

I’ve talked about The Devil Went Down To Georgia a lot in relation to Boyd on here. TL;DR, I decided to make him two things: a violinist and a Sylph/cryptid, specifically the Jersey Devil. Yes, he is still British. I chalk it up lore-wise to a few things: the original Jersey Devil is more of a distant relative, Boyd crossed over from Sylvain and ended up in Britain sometime after that, and just willingly chose to keep up the British persona Bastard. I don’t think about it too much. He’s been a criminal from the very beginning; he’d been in prison on Sylvain, went through some shit there that made him steal a crystal and book it, and he continued to do crime on Earth to survive.

The violin thing is mostly me desperately wanting a character to have that background, because I played for seven goddamn years and want to put that knowledge and catharsis somewhere. Boyd probably either picked up a Sylvan instrument that was similar, or learned it in the early 20th century when he came to Earth, and just held onto it. He held onto the skills and got good - good enough that he could have gone professional, and tried in 2007, but that didn’t go super well, as anyone who’s read TMWCIFTC can attest.

In terms of the type of cryptid he is, I’ve made the Jersey Devils a subspecies on Sylvain that takes cervids (deer, moose, etc.) or bovines (goats, antelopes, cows, etc.), as well as canines/felines of any shape and size, puts them into a gashapon machine with pterodactyl-style wings, awful teeth, and a snake’s tail, and calls it a day. You can get a tiny Jersey Devil that’s a combo of a tiny cat and a dik-dik; you can get a jacked nine-foot-tall terrifying amalgam of a lion and a moose, with a fucked-up mouth of multiple rows of teeth and huge claws.

That last one is Boyd. Don’t call me a monsterfucker for this, I have no defense.

So where does that leave him in relation to the Lodge? Back in 2018, before I started developing the lore that factors into TCOS about Sylph communities outside the Lodge (namely the Manhattan Sylphs that Leo worked with when he was a Chosen One), I figured that it’d be funny if every single cryptid kinda just… knew each other, or hung out near the Lodge. As you know if you’ve read TMWCIFTC, he got into some trouble in 1967, which Barclay, Indrid and Mama “bailed him out of.”

Once they found out he was a fellow Sylvan, though, it became less about “report this guy to the authorities” and more about “we have to make sure we keep an eye on this guy so he doesn’t get himself, or other Sylphs, in trouble” thing. He basically became Mama’s mostly-socialized half-feral cat, slinking through the halls of Amnesty Lodge, eating random food, falling asleep wherever, sitting in rooms where people are doing interesting things and just watching them. And everyone... kind of likes him. Sure, he doesn’t have a sleep schedule, and they have to get soundproof panels installed in his room at the Lodge because he’ll stress-practice violin at 3 in the morning, and he keeps shoplifting stuff from local stores to give to people like a cat bringing back dead mice. But he’s a good man. And he’s getting better every day.

Then he got got by the Ashminder in ‘98. He bolted, completely forgot everything about the Lodge but had the address of a former Lodge resident on his body after his memory was wiped, found a still-alive but memory-wiped fellow Lodge dweller, and fled to that address. Boyd lived there for years, trying to clean up his act and try to anchor himself a bit. Then in 2007, something on his path went wrong, and the stress break he went through after that made him run from that place. That’s when he met Ned, and they had a few years together before Boyd ended up in jail.

Then, once they killed the Ashminder and the memories it had eaten came back, Voidfish-style, Boyd remembered everything: the people who’d taken care of him, the friends he’d made, the love he’d found, the time and effort he’d put into getting better, the rewards he’d reaped because of it. He remembered fighting monsters and defending them. He got hit with it all at once, and missed them. His parole date was coming up; he could bide his time until he was released, and run down there.

But then, at the start of TCOS, Something Happens that makes all Sylvan disguises and spells shit the fucking bed; his disguise spell, which has been hiding a nine foot-tall jacked demon out of hell, flickers, and the invisibility spell that had been put on his disguise item to hide it failed. Boyd knew he was fucked if the jail folks found out he was a Sylph, so he decided to fucking Kool-aid Man out of there, becoming a wanted man in the entire state of West Virginia and getting a bit roughed up in the process.

But hey. Whatever it takes to get home, right?

Stern’s Changes:

Stern’s changed too, though, and here’s how. It was relatively simple to tweak him, because so much of him was a blank slate to begin with. First: that name. Garfield Kent Stern is his full name: Garfield for the cat/Deals Warlock, Kent after Kent Mansley, the irritating dipshit FBI agent antagonist from the classic animated movie The Iron Giant. Poor bastard. He started as a walking meme who I was going to kill off; I came up with that name long before we got his real name in canon, and didn’t want to retcon it out.

I’m a sucker for secret connections and familial ties, too, and back in 2018 the headcanon gashapon gave me “what if Stern was a cousin of Duck’s, but there was family drama that made their parts of the family split when they were kids, so now 30 years later they don’t remember each other?”

And that’s exactly what I did. Gary is Duck’s first cousin on Duck’s mom’s side; their mothers are sisters. Gary’s uncle Arnie was a Secret Service agent who tangled with an Indrid trying to stop the Kennedy Assassination once, and he keeps telling that story at Christmas, much to everyone’s chagrin. Gary remembered those stories, and even received Indrid’s old disguise glasses - knocked off his face during his uncle Arnie’s chase - and carried them with him for a long time.

He didn’t start off as a baby cop, though; he was more interested in hitting the books, finding out the logic and doing the research to figure things out. I have him become a history major, getting a PhD with a few bits and bobs here and there that I haven’t worked out yet. Whatever the case, he spent a LONG time in academia, from undergrad starting in 1996 to graduation in about 2005.

Things weren’t as peachy as he thought they’d be, though. Gary wrote and published his thesis, like a good little PhD candidate, but someone was watching him. In his thesis, he’d been trying to cobble together various cryptid-related legends across the word and making connections between them, among other things. He’d managed to link up and explain something that Unexplained Phenomena had been trying to figure out themselves. They immediately intercepted his thesis, kept it from being disseminated anywhere else, erased all copies of it after graduation, and reached out to Gary independently to bring him on.

Make no mistake: he went willingly. Despite the whole thesis coverup, Agent Gary Stern wasn’t coerced into being a government stooge, and he wasn’t blackmailed - he was given an offer to work with the cryptid cops, and he enthusiastically took it. Government benefits were decent, he’d heard; post-grad options were looking slim, especially going into the recession. In his mind, there was a bit of allure to it all, too. A secret government organization looking into suspicious and possibly supernatural things all over the nation? Fantastic. More opportunities to do research. He was in. Gary accepted their offer and started basic FBI training in 2007 - the same year Boyd had that mental break and went AWOL, returning to his life of crime and meeting Ned.

Biggest mistake he’d ever made. But then again, if he didn’t take them up on that, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

So he joins UP, goes up the ranks. They had him researching and charting the Bigfoot case for a while, and he was the only one who was willing to work on it at all because… well, Bigfoot sightings weren’t as sophisticated as some of the other projects that were out there for UP. (See: Area 51. We don’t talk about Area 51. Nobody talks about Area 51. Definitely nothing shady and unethical going on in there, no experiments on anyone or anything, no sir.)

Gary’s diligent, though, and doesn’t like to back down from a challenge. That’s all hunting Bigfoot was: a challenge. No personal stake, no empathy. It was a job to get done, even though an entire person’s life was at stake.

And he got so caught up in this challenge that, when he went to Kepler, he EASILY got attacked by the Ashminder and destroyed within an inch of his life. He got the very memory of his job and intent in Kepler torn out of his head; once the Ashminder died, and those memories came back, they didn’t feel like his anymore, or like they’d been part of his life plan to begin with. Overcome with confusion and guilt, he decided to clean up his act and try to work against the FBI, with Mama’s blessing.

His goal? Quit the FBI, get them off the Lodge’s back, and then see what happens next. Maybe he’d go back to academia, or teach, or something - just get as far away from the FBI as possible, as far away as he can be from hurting people. But he’s got to bide his time, because if he bolts now, they’re going to get suspicious and put the Lodge in even more danger. And that’s where he is now.

So why have they changed?

Simple answer? I don’t want to rewrite them to fit with canon. I just don’t. I don’t want to make Boyd human; I don’t want to change Gary’s name to Joseph and make him a Bigfoot groupie. I don’t want to rewrite hundreds of thousands of words of work to fit last-minute decisions made in the end times of Amnesty’s canon. My fic has diverged so much from canon that the canon versions of the characters don’t belong here anymore. Besides, Stern was such a background character in arcs 3 and 4 that he barely mattered, making his reappearance in arc 5 a bit of a clumsy follow-through, and Boyd was a one-act wonder. A little expansion couldn’t hurt. Making Gary something other than a direct antagonist made the narrative load a little easier, too, at least on my end. I hate giving a cop screen time, but it’s easier to justify his existence by rewriting his backstory and making him slog through the hell of a redemption arc. He’s had that coming.

This leads us to TCOS, though, where the arcs of our player characters turn a bit more towards the plot, as opposed to the emotional fulfillment they got in TMWCIFTC. Characters like Gary, Mama, Boyd, and Alexandra take center stage for emotional and backstory development, while the original player characters take a temporary backseat. Alexandra’s a key linchpin of the story as a whole, both emotionally and narratively; Mama gets lore expansions and has personal things to settle; and Gary and Boyd are… here. So:

How do these two work with each other in TCOS?

It’s great. It’s fantastic. These two are my favorite to write in TCOS because their conflict is just so fucking FUN. On the one hand, you have an almost-ex-FBI agent who’s been taken in by the Lodge, is related to a Pine Guard member, is trying to keep his coworkers off the Lodge’s back as sneakily as possible without drawing suspicion, and is desperate not to screw up this second chance he doesn’t think he deserves. On the other hand, you have an ex-con who got a second chance from the Lodge, sees them as his last best option to be safe as long as nobody reports them, and wants to keep them safe out of a sense of familial obligation he’s reluctant to admit to, even to himself.

That’s two people with questionable morals, with a semi-familial attachment to a place that gave them second chances, each seeing the actions of the other as a threat to their - and everyone else’s - safety. Claws come out almost immediately.

At the start, Boyd and Gary go together like apple juice and toothpaste. Boyd sees a narc who’s threatening the one safe place he has left; Gary sees an impulsive, selfish threat, a domino that - if it falls - threatens, you guessed it, the one safe place he (and other people, sure) has left. Boyd breaking out of jail means the entire state of West Virginia, and probably the whole East Coast, is on high alert looking for him, and if that attention comes anywhere near the Lodge? They’re fucked.

Neither of them believe that the other is capable of change or anything but selfish, malicious harm. Boyd has more of an argument than Gary because Gary is still actively reporting things to the FBI, but in Gary’s defense, the moment that he stops reporting anything to them, they’re going to suspect things and might end up sending more people to the Lodge. The Pine Guard can’t afford that, so Gary has to play by the rules until he’s in a position where he can quit. I’ll pull a specific argument they have from TCOS that I feel really exemplifies this:

"I don't want you to get caught."

Boyd scoffed. "Something tells me you're not worried about me."

"I'm not."

"Well, thanks."

"I'm worried," Gary went on, "about someone seeing you, and connecting you to the Lodge. You just used the hot springs as your personal landing strip, in broad daylight. We're on the upper half of the mountain. And I don't know how big your Sylvan form is, but -"

Boyd grinned. It looked more like a snarl. "Oh, plenty big enough," he said.

Gary ignored that. "Big enough for someone to see you from down the mountain?" he challenged. Boyd's lip curled, and he looked away. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm just thinking ahead. What if someone came beating down our door looking for you? What if it was a cryptid hunter? What if it was the cops?”

"Yes, yes, fine, alright," Boyd snapped. He threw his hands up. His eyes were hard and cold. "It'd put us in danger. I get it. But you're still here. I think the damage is already done."

A knot of cold rage formed in Gary's stomach. "I'm trying to keep this place safe, Mr. Mosche," he spat. "I've got a responsibility to keep."

Boyd scoffed. "Oh, you have a responsibility? To Amnesty Lodge? That's fucking rich."

"You've got one, too! It’s about time you started keeping it!"

They’re both very, very set in their ways and their ideologies, and they take a long time to get to middle ground.

One of my friends described it as middle child syndrome in overdrive. Gary thinks Boyd’s the Lodge golden child, come to replace him in the Lodge inner circle. Boyd thinks Gary’s the Lodge’s new redemption-arc fixer-upper, come to replace him. And both of them feel thrown off by that, because they both thought that the Lodge was accepting them completely into the inner circle. It’s unfamiliar, it’s confusing, and when the Lodge as a whole regards them both with suspicion/unease (Gary) and polite detachment due to the passage of time (Boyd), it makes them both feel on the outside.

And when you’re in the same shitty canoe, you’ve gotta row it or sink. So that’s exactly what they do.

Ultimately, they get faced down with bigger and worse foes that snap them out of their spat, because their common interest is “keeping the Lodge safe” and uniting will help them get there. When they do start to have each other’s backs, though, that’s when they reluctantly start to get to know each other. Gary feels like something’s off about Boyd and eventually suspects - thanks to some comments from Haynes and some digging of his own - that Boyd had something to do with the fire that burned down Aubrey’s house, but it remains to be seen what he’ll do with that information. (The Gary of November 2018 would have turned Boyd in to the FBI. The Gary of almost six months later, though… a different story. It’ll be interesting.)

The kicker is, they’re both really similar, at the heart of it. Both of them were the Lodge’s fix-em-up pet projects, brought into the fold in an emergency and protected/cared for as long as they swore to clean up their act. They see each other and feel a bit out-of-place, though - something contributed to by the way the Lodge treats them.

Gary’s still held at a distance by many, despite being Duck’s cousin and a mostly-valuable member of the team, because the stench of the FBI is still on him - how he dresses, how he walks and talks, how he acts. And Boyd has just swanned back to the Lodge after 20 years gone, with all his memories of the Lodge from back in ‘98 driven back into his mind - and part of him is expecting the Lodge to be the exact same way it was when he left. But it’s not. You can’t go home again. The Lodge has moved on without him, which he never expected, and coming back to them is… awkward.

It’s simple. They don’t know what to do with a version of Boyd who’s missed the past 20 years of their lives; Boyd doesn’t know what to do with people who have changed from the folks he knew 20 years ago. He’s lost, floating, and alienated, like going to a high school reunion after not having spoken to a living soul since graduation. It sucks for him. And the only wholly unfamiliar face there, other than the main Pine Guard - who he’s mostly fine with, except for Ned - is Gary, and he can’t help but be irritated with him. That changes, though.

What I essentially want to do is set these versions of the characters up as foils. Similar characters, similar pasts, similar situations that got them to this point. All that’s different is how far in their respective arcs they are. So I’m going to have them be friends. Give each other a chance in the face of a bigger threat, open up a little more, have conversations, talk about things with each other because they’re the only ones around to listen. The Lodge gave them second chances when they needed them most. Maybe they can do that for each other.

This is also to say, I would be a massive fucking liar if I say I haven’t considered having that unfold into a rivals-to-lovers arc. Yeah, I said it. I’ve considered it, at length and in serious detail, since I started drafting the arcs for TCOS. In fact, that’s what I’m probably going to do. I’ve gotten too hooked by the possibility to give it up. I outlined hypothetical futures for the whole cast after the final battle in Sylvain and, given the things I want to happen in that battle and the messy post-war fallout, it makes sense that these two would gravitate towards each other.

It makes a lot more sense in context, believe me. They’ve got a long row to hoe before they trust each other enough to become friends, or even push the envelope towards a romantic relationship - they’d have months and even YEARS to wait to pull that off. Whatever I end up doing with them, they are easily my favorite part of TCOS to unravel, mostly because I - and, honestly, everyone else - probably never saw it coming.

Thanks for the ask, anon. This made my week. So sorry for the long response, but I have so many thoughts on what I’m doing with these idiots, and putting them down on paper was really fun. Any other questions or comments about this? Fire away, I’d be more than willing to answer!

#asks #anon #tcos #if tumblr fucks the formatting and bombards you all with a long-ass post i am SO SORRY #tagging anyway #long post #taz amnesty

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stillebesat · 4 years

Text

Meeting Romeo

Sanders Sides: Virgil, Roman. A Prequel to: A Work of Art Blurb: It was unfortunate really, but someone had to tell the Romeo standing on the street that his Juliet he’d come to listen to day after day no longer lived in the apartment complex. It might as well be Virgil. Inspired by: An Anon who asked: okay, I ADORE "A Work of Art" but I have questions. Like... how did Ro and V meet? What was the start of their relationship like? Fic Type: General, Human!AU Overall Fic Warnings: None.

In a smooth, well practiced movement as he approached his apartment, Virgil perfectly framed the familiar handsome figure standing on the sidewalk in front of the building on his phone’s camera screen and snapped a quick picture.

Romeo’s back and about to be heartbroken. He captioned the image with a quirk of his lips, posting it online before he’d taken two steps.

It would be unfortunate really. The poor fool had been standing outside his complex for the past month and a half like many other love-struck simpletons had over the years, his heart obviously captivated by the demonic angelic voice of Virgil’s neighbor, famous Broadway Singer, Mary Lee Foster.

Well. He supposed her last name wouldn’t be Foster anymore since the singer had gotten married last week and moved out to some mansion with her new husband, Lee.

Mary Lee and Lee. That wouldn’t be confusing at all to people.

Virgil slipped his phone into his pocket, pulling his hood further over his head, exhaling.

It was unfortunate she’d chosen to move out now. Romeo had been a great source for his Cryptids in the Big City vlog because the dude never showed up in the same outfit twice, even if he did keep that same dreamy-eyed love struck look on his face every time Virgil caught him staring up at the complex while Mary Lee’s constant singing wafted down to the street below.

Because of her marriage, this would probably be the last time he’d see Romeo and Virgil would have to find another source to keep his followers entertained since he’d had to put his My Roommate is a Cryptid posts on hiatus with Steve, the now Master Chef, moving out four months earlier.

Well, it wasn’t like Virgil couldn’t easily find another roommate. With the constant inflow of people moving into the city to follow their dreams there was a never ending flow of applications coming his way whenever he posted the Room for Rent sign in one his windows facing the street.

But so far...none of them had had that IT factor that Virgil was looking for. The right combination of characteristics that would keep his followers online entertained...without stressing Virgil out sharing his living space with them. It was a tricky balancing act.

“She’s gone you know.” Virgil remarked as he approached, fighting to keep from laughing at how Romeo, dressed today in a prince’s uniform of all things, jumped at his voice.

He had that effect on people.

“By Odin’s Eyepatch.” Romeo swore, his ears turning pink as he placed a hand over his red sash. “Where in the blazes did you come from?!”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, shooting a thumb over his shoulder. “From up the street, Princey. You so captivated by her that you forget other people exist?”

Romeo blinked. “Her?”

It was his turn to frown. Surely the dude wasn’t that dense. “Mary Lee? Famous singer. Girl you’ve been listening to? She moved out a week ago, Romeo. Got married.”

“Oh. Uh.” Romeo raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, ears growing nearly as red as his sash. Which judging by how the color was creeping over his eyebrows meant that this guy was wearing some sort of foundation to hide his full on blush.

There was a good reason to be embarrassed, Virgil supposed. It probably wasn’t everyday Princey here got called out for staring.

Romeo shook his head, looking back up at apartment complex. “The girl who misses her High C half the time? I--I wasn’t here...for her.”

Virgil scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets. “Mhmmm and I’m Batman.”

Romeo made a face. “Did your batcave burn down then, Bruce Wyane? I didn’t think your hideout was in the middle of a city.”

Oooh. Virgil smirked. Getting touchy. “No need to be embarrassed, Princey. Lots of guys have stood where you’re standing--”

“I said I wasn’t here for her, Dr. Gloom! I was---” Romeo gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he turned away, loudly exhaling. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

Oh, no way was this guy leaving now without giving him an answer. If it wasn’t for the girl then why-- Virgil moved in front of him holding out a hand. “Can’t be stupider than what I thought you were doing before, Romeo. Come on. Tell me.”

Princey scoffed, trying to step around him. “Why does a gremlin like you want to know?”

“This gremlin, which thank you for the compliment by the way, lives here and is very curious. So you can’t blame me for wanting to know after seeing you pining away day after day after day after day--”

Romeo groaned, throwing up his hands. “Stop. Geez! It was the the sign, alright? I was staring at that.”

Huh? Virgil pushed his hood off his head in case the fabric had distorted the Prince’s voice. “Come again? A sign?”

Romeo let out a defeated sigh, gesturing towards the complex. “The For Rent sign up there. I was staring at that, okay? Just--” He shook his head, lowering his voice. “Daydreaming about living there. It’s just a--a perfect location. Close to school, my job, most auditions--” He trailed off, struggling a shoulder. “I told you it was stupid.” He muttered.

Of all the things he expected, Virgil would never have thought that Romeo was staring at his For Rent sign this entire time. “Well…have you applied at all?” He asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept. Surely he would have noticed--he couldn’t have missed an application submitted by this guy--had he?

Romeo gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Like I can afford to live here on a waiter’s paycheck, Bats. The landlord would kick me out faster than I could move in.”

A waiter? He’d been to dozens of restaurants in the city and none of them had the variety of costumes Virgil had seen this guy wearing. “And your job requires all these--” He gestured to the Prince costume. “Outfits?”

Romeo shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “No--auditions. I’m an actor. I just got done with one.”

Actor. Virgil fought the urge to roll his eyes. He should have known. He’d had his fair share of applicants say they were aspiring actors. It never turned out well. “Ah.”

Princey gave a polite smile that didn’t suit his face at all. “Mhmm. Hope to make it big one day, get my name in the lights.” He waved a hand vaguely around. “Yadda yadda, it’s not an uncommon dream here, so you’ve probably heard that before.”

Virgil gave a low chuckle, nodding. “Oh, only a thousand times or so.” Yet he found himself intrigued anyways. Here he’d been lamenting that Romeo would no longer be coming around...only to find out that the guy was more interested in his For Rent sign than in Mary Lee. “Is that what’s stopping you? Just the rent?”

Romeo raised an eyebrow. “I just told you I’m a waiter, Count Woe-laf. Of course it’s the rent. What person in their right mind would feel comfortable living with a guy who may or may not have the money ready by the first of the month when most of my paycheck is dependent on tips? They’d have to be-”

“Crazy?”

Princey nodded, looking up to the sign. “...Yes.”

It was crazy. Virgil could feel his heart rate increasing at the mere thought of the guy missing a payment.

And yet.

His posts about Romeo had been some of his more popular ones with his followers. To have this guy as his roommate...it had some potential. A lot of potential actually. It would mean he could finally resurrect his cryptid roommate series.

But seeing Princey on the street was one thing, living with him would be a completely different monster to tackle. Virgil tugged at the strings of his hoodie. “What if money wasn’t an issue? Like...the landlord wouldn’t mind it being...late, so long as you paid by the end of the month or something? What else would stop you from applying to be this guy’s roommate?”

Romeo frowned, raising an eyebrow as he turned to Virgil. “Stop me?”

“Like...things you think would annoy him? What do you do that you think others would hate?”

Romeo ran a hand through his hair, giving a half shrug. “I don’t know, man. I would--” He shook his head. “I would have said singing as I do have to practice for auditions and roles that I get, but if they’ve lived next to--”

“Mary Lee.” Virgil supplied.

“Yah her. I doubt they’d have a problem with me doing the same. Especially since I’m barely home as it is, what with my classes and my job and all my auditions.” He ticked the points off his fingers. “I’d be more of a ghost roommate than anything honestly.”

Well...that upped his cryptid status for sure. Only seeing this guy at odd hours would make it interesting, especially since Virgil didn’t keep normal hours himself. Plus if the dude was barely ever home...there would be less of a chance of him getting annoyed by Princey’s...antics.

“I see. So you’d be the leaving an empty jug of milk in the fridge, rotting dishes in the sink, and dirty towels on the bathroom floor sort of ghost roommate?”

Romeo wrinkled his nose. “What?! No!--okay the milk one maybe, but I’m working on that! But it’s not like I...I---” His eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger to Virgil. “Why do you even care, Bats? I answered your question about why I was staring, why would you--”

Took him long enough. Virgil drew in a breath. Time to bite the bullet. “Well…it’s my For Rent sign.”

If only he could pull out his phone and take a picture at how big Princey’s eyes got. Because he was sure no human’s eyes were supposed to grow that large. Virgil’s fingers twitched in his pocket, tempted to snap a picture anyways. The guy would find out soon enough how often he used his phone...if he still wanted to apply that is.

Romeo licked his lips, chocolate colored eyes darting between Virgil, the apartment, and back to Virgil again giving him a quick once over. “...oh.”

Virgil smirked, fighting to keep his own uncertainty hidden from Princey. He knew he wasn’t much to look at compared to this guy. But their conversation had gone well enough up to this point. He didn’t dislike the dude...yet. Was intrigued with--well what living with Romeo would be like. “Still interested in joining the batcave, Robin?”

Roman ran a hand along his sash, biting his lip. “You...wouldn’t say no?”

Virgil tilted his hand back and forth. “I mean, you still have to pass a background check.” He wasn’t naive enough to trust the guy flat out just because he put on a Prince costume. “Sign a contract. You’ll probably want to first see the inside of the place and your potential room. Oh. And--” He gestured to himself. “Not mind having a gremlin as your roommate.”

Princey’s ears went dark red at that comment. “I didn’t mean--”

Virgil tugged his hoodie back over his head, hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake in giving this guy a chance. “I said I was cool with the nickname, Romeo.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t been nicknaming the guy right back without Princey throwing a fuss. He turned for the front doors, pulling his keys out and jangling them as he moved away. “So you wanna come inside and check out the place or are you content to keep this dream of living here just a dream?”

He jumped, barely stopping himself from hissing as Princey suddenly appeared right beside him, bumping his shoulder. “Well if you’re offering, Batsy.” He winked, a bounce in his step as he raced up the stairs to the main doors. “I wouldn’t mind checking out this secret hideout of yours.”

Taglist in Reblog.

#Meeting Romeo #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Virgil #Roman #A Work of Art #Anxiety #Creativity

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lamecryptid · 3 years

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@piranhapunk said anyone who wants to do it can, so since I never get to do these...

1. name / nickname: Thomas, but most people call me Tom or Tommie

2. gender: Non-Binary (He/They)

3. star sign: Virgo

4. height: 5′8

5. time: 6.20am (haven't slept yet)

6. birthday: September 13th

7. favorite bands/groups: Lemon Demon / Mother Mother / GRLwood / Crawlers / MGMT / Girl In Red / Ninja Sex Party

8. favorite solo artists: Jack Stauber (Jack Staubers Micropop) / Left at London / Ritt Momney / Teddy Hyde / Norma Tenega

9. song stuck in my head: Enjoy The Silence // Depeche Mode

10. last movie: ... Downton Abbey

11. last show: Adventure Time

12. when did i create this blog: oh gods ummm.... 2012 ish? I think?

13. what do i post: So much random shit...all reblogs too. No original content here. But mainly.... nature photos, aesthetic images and funny stuff.

14. last googled: “dream meaning church burning and exploding"

15. other blogs: One.... not telling tho its a blog for my trauma.

16. do i get asks: nope, only occasional random anon hate for no reason LMAO

17. why did i choose this url: im lame and also a cryptid cus nobody really knows a whole lot about me

18. following: 769

19. followers: 259

20. average hours of sleep: I either sleep for 14 hours straight or 4 hours of interuppted sleep. No in-between.

21. lucky number: 13, 37, 63, 42

22. instruments: i know a little bit of piano, mainly go off sound as I can't read sheet music.

23. what am i wearing: im in bed so.... 👁👄👁

24. dream job: little witchy shop owner by the seafront.... id cry

25. dream trip: Road trip...around the deep forests and countryside, small towns and the seafront. In one of those camper vans with the bed in the back.

26. favorite food: uhhh... Sushi, Cheesecake and ramen

27. Nationality: English :/

28: favorite song: Bisexual // GRLwood

29. last book read: My lesbian experience with loneliness by Kabi Nagata (yes its technically manga shhhh)

30. three fictional universes you’d want to live in: Stardew valley because... rustic queer... yes pls. Skyrim because I can weild a huge sword AND get a hot wife just by beating her in a fistfight?? The Dream. And finally uhhh... Animal crossing new horizons... sell fruit n bugs and b happy with leetle animal friends... amazing.

I tag whoever wants to do this! Have fun

#ask meme #ask tag #wow info about me on my blog? its more likely than you think

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years

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The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 24/?

CLAMP AU n.3 [chengyu? yucheng? (JC/MXY) edition. don’t...question my taste bruh]: “Somewhere, sometime.”

[tw eating disorders mentioned + tw suicide mention (body sacrifice)]

[ok fam. ok. I get it. I would basically ship JC with a rock if it meant I could play with my crack AUs. but I have solid evidence for this one. I promise you.]

[so, “Kobato” from CLAMP is possibly my favorite series from them. it’s 6 volumes long, roughly 40 chapters (and I only recently found out there was an epilogue...even though it was not there in my published version of the series. bc your local cryptid did in fact buy the entire thing in the flesh, that’s how much I love it)]

[in this AU I’ll change some things for the sake of consistency, but I suggest you read it bc the hurt/comfort and pining is enjoyable...so...if you read my silly AU I’m afraid I will spoil the plot for u :( and that’s the last thing I want to do...I understand if you decide to go read the manga and skip my prompt. it’s ok, I’m fine, go and have fun ;-;]

[if you kept reading, hi :D]

[now. am I uncomfortable with certain common tropes in CLAMP’s work in general? yes. especially the age gaps between some of the characters, some of which are not adults. hence the reason behind the changes in this AU. but! the aesthetics fam. the beautiful drawings. the cute outfits. (*ﾉ▽ﾉ)

do you see these?? how cute would Mo XuanYu look in these fam?? I honestly hc him enjoying skirts and feminine outfits a whole lot, but you can imagine him with pants and they would be just as cute. my favorite one is the second from the left btw.]

(imagine Mo XuanYu like this btw and check out the fancomic by the same op! an anon suggested it to me a while ago and now I’m hooked!)

[other mangacaps bc you need visuals:

yeah. angry boy meets bby with a mission to accomplish, bonding over their inferiority complex. yep. I only love the nicest things in life. that’s me.

also look at my baby girl ;-; so cuTe]

[the title is from the ost from the anime series, “Itsuka dokoka de” (check it out!). the anime feels more cohesive than the original manga, possibly bc the pacing is handled a little bit better (since the manga was cut short and the end felt a bit sloppy, but the emotional engagement was still good). and I remember being 17 and crying like a baby when this song came in. if you don’t have time for the manga binge the anime instead! there are plot holes in both of them and the stories are different but still both very enjoyable if you like soft things and angsty vibes.]

[enjoy!]

When YanLi saw him for the first time in front of her door, at the beginning of spring, she thought XuanYu was too pretty and too young for his own good. Sitting across her on the floor, a tea set between them as he politely answered her questions, the boy couldn’t have looked older than sixteen yet he assured her he was of age and well into adulthood. Which seemed pretty difficult to assess, not with the way he dressed: cute button down, beret slightly askew on top of his pretty head and an old-looking suitcases in hand. She didn’t mention the stuffed black rabbit poking out from the front pocket of his luggage, which seemed more of a comfort thing than a reliable source of company.

Moreover, Jin Ling seemed transfixed by him, toddling his way towards their guest asking for cuddles... something her son had never done in front of strangers.

XuanYu refused to give his last name, nor did he have an ID he could show her, nor did he seem worried about how strange that was. And YanLi knew ZiXuan would have been against it, but she couldn’t leave the kid looking all over Lanling for a place to stay... so she gave him the only available room in their rundown pension.

She only hoped Jiang Cheng would be a nice neighbor and leave the kid alone. Who knew what horrors XuanYu was running away from, after all.

When XiChen heard from YanLi of her new tenant, he would have never guessed the kid to look so naive. Not in a bad way, mind you. But his smiles, for how genuine they seemed to be, looked a little bit too big. A little bit too strained not to be a distraction tactic from his part. Or maybe XiChen had lived too long surrounded by fake smiles and closed off people to not worry.

That’s probably why he gave XuanYu a job when YanLi asked him to look over the kid. More to prove himself there were still trustworthy people in the world than to give the younger man a chance. He couldn’t even pay him a full salary, not with the debt collectors breathing on his neck as he tried to run his late mother’s kindergarten.

But maybe that would have been enough for now. A starting point for something better, something new.

A-Yuan had always known the kindergarten used to be an orphanage back in the days, but now he had reached an age where doubts stuck to his head instead of being forgotten with the passing of time. Wen Qing and A-Ning were always busy -be it in the hospital or in university- and A-Yuan didn’t know if they loved him enough to keep him. Ever since granny had passed away he had wondered, day after day, when his cousins would have left him behind for good.

He was thinking about such things when he first met XuanYu, on the man’s first day on the job as a teaching assistant. A-Yuan was mulling over his sadness when XuanYu had come to his rescue, asking him what was wrong... before enthusiastically praising his cousins for working so hard after hearing they were late to take A-Yuan home. XuanYu stayed with him and they played on the swings as they waited for A-Ning to come pick him up, apologizing profusely.

On the way home, his cousin held him close and kissed his forehead as he asked him if he had had fun with the new teacher. And A-Yuan felt less doubtful afterwards.

After hearing the story from her brother, Wen Qing had made it her job to look into XuanYu and his weird approach to life in general. She took every opportunity she could grasp to spy on the younger man, lunch breaks be damned. She needed to confirm if the kid was a trust worthy person or a runaway child pretending to be older than what he actually was. Well, maybe tailing an unsuspecting young man on the streets of Lanling in scrubs and sunglasses would be considered a bit much, she could admit as much. But it was the thought that counted, no?

Her friend MianMian told her to knock it off and talk to the kid like a normal human being, but the truth was that... well, XuanYu was really too weird to be considered normal. He seldom put himself in dangerous situations without much care, such as picking up a random (and still lit) cigarette from the ground just to give it back to the person who had “accidentally dropped it”. Other times he would cross a road without looking left and right first, risking to be run over by cars at every corner. He never, never, fumbled with a phone and he frequently talked to himself... sometimes even directing his words to that creepy stuffed rabbit of his.

No thank you, Wen Qing felt safer behind light poles and crumpled newspapers held upside down. Even if that made her look sketchy as fuck.

Wen Ning made sure to arrive on time to pick A-Yuan up after that time, often chatting with XuanYu as they waited for his baby cousin to retrieve his backpack and raincoat. It was refreshing to speak with the younger man, no matter how weird he acted sometimes. Like that time A-Yuan asked him to tie his shoe-laces for him and XuanYu didn’t know how to do it. Or that time they caught the man taking a nap on the floor in the middle of the school hall. Or that time XiChen had ordered a cake for one of the kids’ birthday and XuanYu didn’t seem to know how to sing the birthday song.

Wen Ning had no place to judge, after all. But XuanYu’s smiles felt like balm on his heart. And if his sweet voice followed Wen Ning home as he bounced A-Yuan in his arms, well. Nobody needed to know that.

The last thing Meng Yao would have expected to hear that summer day when he called the kindergarten was a voice so different from XiChen’s. Startled, he had confusedly asked if the kid worked there and how so, given that the school definitely couldn’t afford to hire anyone. He ought to know. He was the debt collector.

But the kid apologized, introduced himself, and then explained XiChen had offered him a part-time job out of kindness more than out of need. The idiot. XiChen should have remembered who his money belonged to instead of taking charity cases left and right.

But when Meng Yao said as much to naive XuanYu, the other vehemently protested, surprising the debt collector with strong opinions on how he shouldn’t underestimate other people’s intelligence and kindness in the first place.

Meng Yao laughed out at that, genuinely so.

There was more to that kid XuanYu than what one would have expected.

Nie HuaiSang caught a first glimpse of the mystery man only in late summer, when XuanYu stepped into his cake shop to look at the display. His coworker MianMian seemed to recognize the younger man immediately, greeting him by saying they had a friend in common, namely Wen Qing. The kid merely tilted his head and answered he had never formerly met “Miss. Wen” and that he only knew who she was from what the woman’s younger brother had told him about her.

MianMian shrugged and smiled at him.

To which HuaiSang asked him what they could do for him and XuanYu... just... stopped working. Saying that he had wondered if he could do something for them instead. Apparently, Wen Ning had let it slip they were currently understaffed and needed a hand to deliver their sweets.

Delighted, MianMian set him to work, no matter how many times HuaiSang assured her they didn’t need to force the kid to help them... also because they didn’t actually have the means to pay him in kind. But XuanYu refused money altogether, simply asking them to let him help.

To their amusement (and horror) XuanYu didn’t know how to ride a bicycle, so he insisted on covering the deliveries by foot in the neighborhood instead.

HuaiSang called XiChen on the phone that same evening, asking him to give the kid some slack the following day. And maybe buy him some balm for blisters as well.

Jin Ling was young but he wasn’t stupid. Turning three had made him wiser, he knew as much. So he knew XuanYu was magical. He just did.

His pretty-gege talked with stuffed animals, always wore nice things, and kept in his satchel bag a vial filling up with magical candies every time he did something nice for others. A-Ling had seen it with his own eyes, that time XuanYu had put a plaster on his scrapped knee and blew on it to make the pain go away: the golden candy had appeared in the bottle out of nowhere and XuanYu had asked him to keep the secret.

And A-Ling may have been young, but he wasn’t a snitch.

No sir.

ZiXuan eventually stumbled upon their new tenant even though YanLi had tried everything in her power to prevent it. He was very displeased with her: taking a scrawny kid in, cutting his rent in half merely because he couldn’t afford to pay the room in full. Utter nonsense.

No matter how much this kid XuanYu praised A-Ling’s personality or YanLi’s cooking, no matter how much he smiled and made himself look accommodating and unthreatening. ZiXuan didn’t work pro bono even at the firm, let alone for his wife’s business.

Yet, when he asked to be let inside the kid’s room to formally discuss the terms of his contract (and tell him to pack his things and leave at the end of summer), ZiXuan was left speechless. There was no bed, no table or chairs. The fridge wasn’t humming and the AC wasn’t working. The only things he could see were the younger man’s clothes neatly folded in his open suitcase or hanging by the window to dry. No books, no snacks, no nothing.

Usually tenants brought their things in right off the bat, their stuff mailed in within a week after moving in. YanLi was very particular about it, she would have not overlooked something like that. But maybe she had been too busy with A-Ling these past few months and hadn’t noticed the kid was actually too poor to even breathe.

And now that he looked at him, XuanYu looked suspiciously skinny.

Was he sleeping on the floor? Didn’t he have covers for the colder season? Was his fridge broken, empty, or -gods forbid- purposely left with no power because the kid couldn’t afford the electricity bill?

“Do you actually live like this?”

XuanYu didn’t answer to that, but smiled anyway. It looked sinister in a way ZiXuan couldn’t explain, afraid of the things such a young man may or may not have endured in the past. And was maybe still enduring now.

The following day ZiXuan gave the kid their spare futon they bought in Japan on their honeymoon. They never had guests anyway and they could afford to pay for a tenant’s electricity bill every now and then, they weren’t poor.

Certainly YanLi would have agreed with him on the matter.

JinGy saw it. He did! He wasn’t lying! Xuan-ge was there, surrounded by darkness and shadows, looking over the children during their nap time, only a sliver of light coming from the door left ajar... casting shadows on half of his pretty face.

And he saw him reviving that stuffed black rabbit he always had on him.

The rabbit just rose on his hind legs and turned his head up and started whispering things to Xuan-ge, who nodded every now and then in deep though.

JinGyi had read about how paper-man talismans had been stuff of legends in the past. His books spoke of ancient times in which even corpses could be brought back to life. How even animals could turn into godly beasts if enough resentful energy polluted them. But he would have never thought magic could actually be real and so easy to play with.

And Xuan-ge had looked nothing but beautiful as he was talking to the stuffed animal, humming softly under his breath.

When Jiang Cheng dropped out of university for the second time, YanLi didn’t say anything and instead welcomed him back in his old room. So much for enrolling in law school at twenty-three, uh? ZiXuan would have been disappointed in him like the first time that had happened in his bachelor anyway, no point in avoiding the man. It was autumn anyway: it was either going back to the apartment complex or look for a new flatmate. But the school housing had rightfully kicked him out after dropping out in the middle of the academic year, so there would have been little hope for him to find a new place anytime soon.

What he did not expect to find was a new tenant living next door.

Sleeping in front of the door, clutching a satchel bag and a fucking stuffed animal on his lap.

Jiang Cheng jolted him awake and took in the sight of his shoulder length hair, his long lashes and sleepy eyes and thought he looked ridiculous. Wearing a silly hat and moccasins, purple shadows under his eyes, a confused expression on his worn out face. When asked what the hell he was doing there, sleeping out of his room instead of inside of it, the younger man said he had forgotten his keys inside that morning.

He was clearly an idiot, so Jiang Cheng walked away and returned to his room after more than a year away. If someone asked him who had rung YanLi to bring the spare keys to help the idiot he would have shrugged at them and shut the door in their face.

He didn’t have time for that, he had to think how to ask XiChen to let him back to work at the school the following day.

A-Qing had seen many things in life, met many horrible people, dealt with the scum of the scum... but she had yet to meet XuanYu.

A menace. A hurricane. A fool. The amount of times she had had to scoop him up from the ground after he had clumsily slipped on invisible bananas and such should have earned her a honorary title for outstanding citizen. It’s been months since his arrival and the kids had already learned to make way whenever they saw him. He inspired fear even in their tiny heads, honestly. What a fellow teaching assistant, really.

She was just there to score brownie points for his electives and internship program to become a social service worker, that was true. But she cared about the kids enough to know she had to do something about that. The children loved XuanYu and they were this fucking close to either worship him like a small deity or criminal and something ought to be done.

The last thing she would have expected to see, however, was Jiang Cheng coming back so soon. Crawling back from university to ask to work there, wagging his tail like the lovesick dog he was. She could easily imagine what the older student would have said to XiChen, something on the line of “you know goddamn well I’m not doing it for the money. I grew up here, I don’t want to see this place crumbling down. I’m definitely not doing it because I’m in love with you and seeing you sad makes me want to gag.”

Well, maybe the last part could be considered artistic license from her part, but judging by what she could overhear behind XiChen’s office door... yep. She had definitely nailed the part about being fond of the ex-orphanage and for the rest... the sentiment was there. The pining bastard.

“Do you need anything, A-Qing?”, XuanYu asked her out of no-fucking-where, startling her as she pretended to dust off the floor very close to a door. Cheek-plastered-on-it kind of close.

“Nothing. Mind your business,” she answered, flustered as fuck.

XuanYu couldn’t be that naive, he knew what he was fucking doing. His creepy little smile so similar to the one the debt collect always had on his face. No wonder XiChen had fallen for such a tricky bitch.

“Then will you help me find JinGyi? He doesn’t want me to help him with his project for the festival and went into hiding again.”

There, that smile and knowing gaze. Judging poser. He looked much older than his alleged twenty years. He knew what he was fucking doi...

“You?!”

Jiang Cheng’s honest-to-gods screech pulled A-Qing out of her thoughts. She turned and had to witness XiChen amiably patting Jiang Cheng on the head as their boss explained him how XuanYu worked there.

“It’s been almost six months now, he’s a very valuable kid and helped out around here while you were studying.”

Jiang Cheng was both livid and red with longing, because his touch-starved ass was all over that hand patting him platonically on the head. He was also angry, which was default for him... but there was something else underneath. Something promising in the way he stared XuanYu down.

Maybe A-Qing could win some candy by betting with the kids about such unexpected turn of events.

ZiZhen believed A-Yi. If his friend had told him the new teacher assistant was a witch then he was right. So they had started researching witches at the school, but only found a couple of colored books on the matter, mostly useless. All but one, telling the story of a nanny called Mary Poppins... some western thing.

But everything checked for the most part. The hat was there, every day a different one, but ultimately never leaving XuanYu’s head. The umbrella was not, but both him and A-Yuan had seen their gege with a parasol once and that was enough. His satchel contained infinite amount of things, from sweets to possessed stuffed animals, like a qiankun bag from the legends! He talked with things as if he could control them.

Well, even the teacher sometimes tried to convince the printer to work with sweet words, gently coaxing it back to life... maybe that was just how adults functioned. Even his dad would ask the fridge where his favorite cake had disappeared sometimes. Adults were weird.

Fuck Lanling. Rain day and night, autumn planning everyone’s demise by flooding every bloody year. Xue Yang was over it.

He took a random umbrella from the rack by the door of the convenience store and left without a second thought, already wondering what he could say to convince XingChen to offer him dinner somewhere new. The man wasn’t married anymore after all, so Xue Yang could technically have his way with him now, right?

“Excuse me!”

Xue Yang was not in the mood for people calling him out on his bullshit that night, but he turned anyway and saw the weirdest thing. A young man roughly his age, maybe a year or so younger, drenched from head to toe after rushing to him. He was panting, clutching a plastic bag full of cleaning supplies from the convenience store Xue Yang had just left.

“I believe you mistakenly took my umbrella,” the other said, pretty face framed by wet hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

Amused, Xue Yang shut the clear plastic umbrella he had “mistakenly taken” and held it at arm’s length by the handle, directing the pointy edge to the other like a sword. Hell if he was going to get wet himself, he needed to prove something to the idiot. He could handle a bit of rain for the sake of being dramatic.

“You want it back?” Xue Yang asked, rising his chin and arching an eyebrow at the other. The man nodded, holding his now wet beret in place on top of his head as if he was more worried about it falling on the ground than keeping his crown dry.

“I knew it was someone else’s when I took it.”

“But...?”

“And what’ll you give me back for it? What are you gonna do about it?”

This should have taught him not to mess with him: he didn’t even have to use his business tone to make the other take a step back. Meng Yao, the bastard, had taught him smiles went a long way in dealing with stupid people after all.

“Right, if I take it from you... you won’t have one to go back home with.”

Uh?

“Wait here. I’ll go buy you one at the convenience store. I’ll be back.”

Uh??

The idiot actually run back to the store and purchased him a fucking umbrella. And Xue Yang was twice as stupid because he waited for him to come back, startled as he was. The idiot was smiling megawatt bright when he came back as well, what the fuck?

The sick bastard extended the clear plastic umbrella to him like Xue Yang had done earlier, but he held it by the middle, as if surrendering his weapon. It was fairly similar to the one Xue Yang had stolen anyway, why bother asking for his umbrella back?

“Did your dead mother give this particular one to you or something?”

The bite in his words only mildly deterred the other man, who pressed his lips together before forcing an even bigger smile on his face.

“No. It’s pretty cheap. But it’s mine. It’s the first thing I bought with my money.”

Xue Yang left after that. With the stolen umbrella. Because he was still a scumbag and not a sentimental asshole. But he was very quiet that evening when XingChen treated him to some fancy takeout on his couch while lovingly drying Xue Yang’s hair with a towel.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Qin Su worried over Jiang Cheng. He was her best worker, but she knew for a fact that he had a million part-time jobs in town and she didn’t want to overwork him. She also knew he would give all of his hard-earned money to XiChen anyway. All to pay a stupid debt. The huge lovesick idiot.

Was he the fastest delivery driver? Yes. Was he the most well behaved of his staff? Not even close. But he was respectful enough to work over his issues and she trusted him with doing his job at the end of the day.

So when she found a young man in a frilly outfit waiting for her on the lobby of her shop asking for Jiang Cheng... well, she was pleasantly surprised.

He introduced himself as XuanYu and held a lunch box in his hands, saying Jiang Cheng had forgotten it at home. Which left A-Su properly impressed. How could a man as angry as Jiang Cheng secure himself such a lovely person was beyond her comprehension, honestly.

He was adorable and she wanted to be his sister like, yesterday.

But when Jiang Cheng came back from a delivery, entering the dumpling shop with his helmet still on, he stared XuanYu down and told him off right off the bat.

“Not you again,” he said, to A-Su’s utter confusion, “Can’t you take a fucking hint? I’m already avoiding you at work. I don’t want to be your friend.”

Something akin to hurt painted XuanYu’s feature for a fraction of a second before he could retrieve his smile and point at the lunch box.

“Your sister asked me to give this to you on my way out. A-Ling helped making rice cakes this time and wanted to hear from you if you liked them or not.”

Qin Su could have easily missed the change in XuanYu’s voice at that, that’s how much of a good actor he was. But Jiang Cheng had no face even to feel ashamed for lashing out at the kid like that. How much older could he be from XuanYu, three years? Two? Had nobody taught him some respect?

“XuanYu, if he bullies you again you come here. Am I understood?”

Like hell she was gonna let this gem of a child slip away from Jiang Cheng’s hands.

Not in a million years.

Song Lan breathed in and out. In and out. The clear morning air surrounded him like an old friend, hugging him closely as he clutched the papers for his divorce.

XingChen had signed them in the end. Five years together were now in the past for him.

Maybe they had been too young back then, when they had taken the chance to get married the moment the government announced the change in the law for people like them. How old have they been, twenty-three? Twenty-four? Another lifetime. An existence away.

He wished he could cry. It would have been easier.

But, as he turned a corner, someone stumbled into him and sent the papers scattering on the sidewalk. Song Lan tried to save them from being dirtied on a puddle but was unsuccessful. He didn’t know why he bothered anymore. It felt like the last piece of his lover had left and Song Lan couldn’t even prevent something as simple as that. XingChen’s signature dirtied in a pool, but not enough to be washed away. What a joke.

The young man in front him bowed down, apologizing profusely, trying to save the documents at the best of his abilities. He even suggested finding a public toilet to dry the sheets under the hot air blowing machine, the silly man.

Song Lan smiled instead, reassuring him it was fine.

He was fine.

But the kid accidentally read the first few lines of the agreement before looking up at Song Lan. And where he would have expected pity, Song Lan only saw consternation instead on his pale face. It was so startling to see it, that he had to crouch back down on the ground next to the kid and reassure him everything was fine. It was just paper, it wasn’t important, he didn’t have to feel so guilty about...

“It is important. Your life is important.”

Such a dramatic sentence, uttered so vehemently, should have sounded weird to Song Lan. Especially because he disapproved of such antics in the first place. But it sounded so sincere, so earnest that he felt touched for a moment.

So he helped the kid up on his feet and asked him to walk a bit with him, to keep him company. Reserved as he was, he would have never thought possible opening up to a stranger the way he did that day. But there was something calming about the kid, almost as if he had been put on earth to soothe other people’s existence.

So he told him how his husband had fallen in love with someone else, someone much younger than them. How this had strained their marriage even if Song Lan had known all along his husband had the ability to fall in love with more than one person at a time. But Song Lan was monogamous and would have never justified forcing his lover to suppress his feelings just to please him. So it had been Song Lan himself to call it quits and wish him all the luck in the world.

The kid had started crying at some point, without Song Lan even noticing at first.

“Why are you crying? Please no, I didn’t wan to upset you.”

“So much love. In different ways but... it’s too much. There’s so much of it, of course I’m crying for you and your loved one.”

Song Lan was many things. Too stern, too rigid, too peculiar about who could touch him or not, too cold in expressing his emotions. But he felt warm then, in front of a kid crying for him in the middle of the street, one day of late autumn.

“Thank you.”

***

XuanYu let it slip once with Mrs. Jin how little he remembered of his past.

It wasn’t a lie, he really didn’t remember what it had been of him before he had met her, asking for a room. But the kind woman just assumed he was talking about his past or youth, so he didn’t correct her on the matter.

Knowing the truth would have scared her, after all.

But he still let himself trust her that day as they sat in front of a pot of tea and he pretended to drink and eat the pastries on the low table. He didn’t need to eat or drink. He wasn’t even sure he had a digestive system.

“I only remember... a song.”

“A song?”

“Yes. Someone singing every night before falling asleep. I don’t think it was meant for me to hear... but my body remembers the shivers. The feeling of being loved.”

“The body remembers the weirdest things, XuanYu. You should trust it more.”

He smiled at that, wriggling his hands on the handkerchief where he had hidden the pastries from sight.

“I’m pretty sure that song wasn’t for me. My body was merely there to listen.”

YanLi looked uncomfortable at that, something scary painting her features.

“Maybe I was eavesdropping,” he reassured her with a self-deprecating joke, not sure if that would have made her feel more at ease or not, “Maybe I was listening in, hoping such lovely words could be directed at me for once.”

Mrs. Jin sipped her tea for a long while afterwards, before finding the resolution to look up and stare him down with a serious expression.

“Unrequited feelings hurt, don’t they?”

XuanYu didn’t know what she meant by that, but he nodded anyway.

He heard something rustling in his bag and hid the sweets inside of it the moment YanLi turned to clear the table. If A-Ling heard someone munching their protests away from inside of the bag, he didn’t snitch on XuanYu and retrieved playing with Fairy on the carpeted floor next to him instead.

Lan Zhan was disappointed in him, XuanYu knew that much. They were admiring the sunset from the small balcony in their room, folding laundry.

XuanYu always wondered why Lan Zhan assumed the form of a black stuffed rabbit, of all things, but he didn’t want to pry. He didn’t even know his real name. The other had told him he used to be a human in his past life and that he hadn’t technically reincarnated in this lifetime. That his current form was just a mean to a goal, that he could use it to guide XuanYu and help him better that way without expending much spiritual energy.

He told him someone dear to him taught him how to manipulate paper-man talismans in his previous life. How similar the process had been to move around in a stuffed animal’s body. How convenient.

XuanYu believed he secretly loved it, even if Lan Zhan would have never said as much. He already talked very little to begin with.

“You told her you don’t remember your past.”

“That I did.”

“Don’t do it again”

XuanYu folded the last towel on his lap and then let Lan Zhan take a nap on it. He felt silly having to take showers and pretend to be a normal human being. He hated inconveniencing the Jins with him, accepting their bedding and paid kitchen appliances and so on. But if he wanted to accomplish his mission he had to make an effort to look normal... instead of spirited away from another world or maybe simply another era.

“I won’t do it again, don’t worry Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan was disappointed, but he was also patient to a fault.

Sure, it would have been much appreciated if Mo XuanYu didn’t lose him around every other day. This time the younger man had forgotten to pick him up from the floor where he had been reading stories to the children at the kindergarten.

But Lan Zhan was also a stuffed animal now, so it wasn’t like he could move around and risk being seeing by normal humans. His body was a vessel and any damage would have had repercussions on his soul as well.

What to do.

He tried not to panic when he felt someone picking him up from the floor after an hour or so. He silently prayed for them not to be A-Qing: even in this life she was too smart for her own good and he couldn’t risk being found out so soon. Mo XuanYu wasn’t even halfway to complete his mission and Lan Zhan couldn’t...

“I’m sure A-Yu is looking for you, little guy. What are doing all the way back here?”

It was always difficult to hear his older brother’s voice in this life. To see his face, to notice how sad he was even in this new reincarnation of his.

Lan Zhan didn’t move a single muscle as XiChen dusted him off and put him in his apron front pocket as he looked for “A-Yu”.

In order to give a second chance to Mo XuanYu, Lan Zhan had sacrificed any possibility to ever reincarnate until his mission was accomplished. So XiChen didn’t have a younger brother in this lifetime and he would have not had one for a while. Lan Zhan missed him, but they had to wait for a bit more.

They still had three months to fill the bottle the King of Hell had entrusted Mo XuanYu with. Then he would have entered the list for reincarnation once more and everything will have been fine in the end.

Lan Zhan owed the kid his life, so he trusted him.

No matter what.

XuanYu remembered the boy who had stolen his umbrella. He remembered him well enough to recognize him when he found him crawling on the floor, a stab wound in his belly, one winter night.

Panicked, he asked Lan Zhan what they could do as he instinctively pressed the wound with his bare hands. Lan Zhan didn’t dare move not to attract attention on himself. The other man snarled out at XuanYu, asking him why did he even bother, seemingly recognizing him.

“I took your fucking umbrella. Hate me and leave me alone.”

“Ridiculous.”

Lan Zhan would have been proud of him for that remark, but XuanYu was too scared to think about it. He didn’t have a phone and he didn’t even know the number for emergencies. He wasn’t even qualified to be a teacher. How had he survived until then. He was useless and stupid and...

“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng’s voice came in a whisper behind him.

What a sorry view the older man had to take in that night: a pool of blood staining otherwise clean clothes, a moaning boy on the ground in restless pain, a crying mess of a sad excuse of a human pressing on a throbbing wound next to him.

Jiang Cheng muttered something about the boy being one of Meng Yao’s men, that they should leave him there to die for all he cared.

The man under XuanYu barked back, telling him he had tried to “convince the idiot of the same”. But XuanYu was horrified by what he had just heard.

“People die for nothing. People die for fucking nothing. You don’t leave someone behind just because you fucking hate them.”

XuanYu has never cursed in this brief, borrowed life of his. Maybe spending so much time with Jiang Cheng had rubbed some of his habits off on him in the end.

Startled, Jiang Cheng seemed to agree with him because he fished out his phone and called an ambulance right away.

The stabbed man laughed at that.

Lan Zhan was clutched in XuanYu’s hands as they waited in the corridor of a badly lit hospital. The kid was crying, hard. He must have remembered how his family in Mo Manor had mistreated him in the past, how easily his own relatives had starved him off just out of spite. How already impossibly emaciated he had been when he had sacrificed his body for Wei Ying, to bring him back in a weakened vessel just to seek revenge. Just to let his hatred run free.

Such cruelty had earned him nothing but distrust from the hell judges, who sentenced him to never be reincarnated again. Only when Lan Zhan had ascended to heaven -many centuries after reaching immortality- he had been able to make them relent.

If Mo XuanYu could prove to be a good human being during a trial time of one year on planet earth, filling a vial with good actions in the form of golden gems, then they would have considered Lan Zhan’s proposal. Mo XuanYu would have atoned his sin and be granted a new life, a clean record, and a second chance at happiness.

Seeing someone almost die in front of him must have awaken something ugly in him. His stained hands, the iron stench in the air. All that blood... like the last thing he had most probably seen in his previous life before his body sacrifice. A scarlet array under his feet, another soul replacing his in his own body.

Lan Zhan let himself be held tightly in Mo XuanYu’s hands that night at the hospital.

And hugged back without anyone else noticing.

Xiao XingChen. That was the name of the man showing up at the kindergarten one week later. XuanYu had never seen him before, but the man hugged him in front of the kids, alerting both XiChen and Jiang Cheng.

“Thank you,” the tall man said in between tears, holding him tight.

“I don’t understand. I...”

“You saved A-Yang. Thank you.”

XuanYu pressed his lips together tightly at that, so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to say. His fingertips hurting with sometimes akin to electricity the more he let himself be held so fiercely by the other man.

He started crying in earnest only after the man had left, surrounded by the children who worried and fussed over him. He fell asleep with them during nap time and when he woke up he found Jiang Cheng placing a quilt over him.

Caught red handed, the older man feigned disinterest in the beginning... but then he sat down next to him. Just like he had done in the hospital one week ago.

“Did you see someone die before?” Jiang Cheng asked then, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, “You had such a strong... reaction to my words. It was insensitive of me. I apologize for angering you. I’ll better myself.”

XuanYu didn’t answer at that.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to sacrifice yourself to hatred and revenge. How much it had scarred him to be brought back to life, but only as a worn out set of robes on top of someone else’s soul. How distant he had felt when the Yiling Patriarch had inhabited his body and had let himself be touched by someone else.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to be touched in the flesh but be utterly unreachable as a soul. Or how much it hurt to become an empty body filled by someone foreign and new. Someone who could wear his skin better than him.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood. And thank all the gods for that.

So XuanYu... Mo XuanYu kept quiet and smiled instead.

Lan Zhan didn’t trust Jiang Cheng. He hadn’t in the past and he wasn’t gonna start now. Wei Ying would have been so disappointed in him for thinking badly of his baby brother, but there was little Lan Zhan could do about that.

Wei Ying wasn’t there to judge him for it.

Mo XuanYu would wake up every morning and wash himself, get dressed and tidy up the room before leaving. He would fix his appearance in a mirror Young Lady Jiang had gifted him in autumn, making sure his hat was still in place.

“What would happen if I were to...?”

“You must keep your hat on... even when you sleep. You know this much.”

“I wear a headband to bed.”

“And what of it?”

“It’s... silly.”

“Nobody can see you in your sleep. Why the sudden worry?”

Mo XuanYu said nothing in response to that, but Lan Zhan knew. The kid had never worried too much about his appearance aside from looking proper and well dressed. He had never fussed over his features, but recently he had taken the habit to walk dangerously close to makeup stores and check various displays at the convenience store close by. Lan Zhan knew Mo XuanYu had remembered his past... how he had quickly realized he was already an adult. With needs and desires.

But now a brand new reincarnation of Jiang WanYin would wait for him every morning to walk to work together. Now Jiang Cheng acted pleasantly enough to be considered kind and doting to someone starved of affection like Mo XuanYu had always been. Which wasn’t planned, it had never been.

Lan Zhan didn’t like where this was going.

He didn’t like it at all.

Nie HuaiSang came to bring a cake for XuanYu one day or so before the end of the year, snow sticking to his hair and flushed cheeks.

“I don’t know when your birthday is... so I’m pretty sure I’m late to the game. But I wanted to thank you for helping me and MianMian that one time. So I made a cake for you. I hope you like strawberries.”

Mo XuanYu had no idea if he liked them or not. He couldn’t even eat.

He started crying in the middle of his room, where HuaiSang had placed the boxed cake on top of his low table.

Panicked, HuaiSang jumped up and out of the room to alert Jiang Cheng next door. But upon seeing the other man’s worried expression XuanYu cried even harder.

“What did you do to him, you bastard?”

“I’m not the one who used to prank people all the time. Grow up!”

“You clearly did something horrible to him for...”

“A-Cheng we’re not twelve anymore. Who do you take me for?”

XuanYu took his chance to stuff his face with cake, gulping it down bit by bit even if he knew he didn’t have the necessary organs to process it without vomiting it all out in an hour or so. He had tried many times to hold food down to no avail. His body rejecting it as if it was poisonous and dangerous.

He had tried so many times... to practice. To be able to appreciate YanLi’s generous cooking, to help A-Ling and the children at school prep their lunches and maybe... maybe to eat with Jiang Cheng every now and then.

Nie HuaiSang hugged him and patted his head, confused but too scared to ask for an explanation. Mo XuanYu smiled at him and lied, saying his cake was the best he had ever eaten. It wasn’t the best. It was simply the first.

He had no way to compare it with anything else, really.

Wen Ning had heard about his “stomachache” from XiChen, who had known all about it from YanLi and Jiang Cheng. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise for XuanYu when he saw the older boy in front of his apartment complex the last day of the year.

But it was a surprise.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Wen Ning asked, holding his umbrella up for XuanYu to walk beside him, protecting him from the icy snow.

They walked to the nearest park, sitting under the gazebo to watch the snow falling down. Their heavy coats keeping them warm, despite the cold.

They used to take long walks back from the kindergarten with A-Yuan after school, since the Wens lived close to XuanYu. Before Jiang Cheng came back anyway.

Wen Ning looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to find the right words. He surprised XuanYu by telling him how, in the past, he had suffered from an eating disorder and had been hospitalized for a while in his teens. How worried his sister and their grandma had been for him, how much they helped him in his recovery. How alone he had felt for years still, no matter how loved he was.

“A-Yuan told me he never saw you eat. So I was wondering if you needed help.”

It wasn’t the case, but XuanYu knew he meant well. Telling him everything was fine would have only worried him more, so he tried to explain an half-truth that could satisfy him. Saying it was difficult for him to process food, that in the past he had suffered from malnutrition and now he had digestive issues.

He was talking about his past life, but he figured that could work as well.

When they parted ways in front of the apartment complex, Wen Ning asked to hold XuanYu’s hands for a bit. He cradled them carefully, as if they were precious. His slender fingers cupping XuanYu’s smaller palms almost reverently.

“I know you don’t feel the same about me. But I’ll ask you to look after yourself anyway. Not out of obligation for me... but out of respect for yourself, if nothing else.”

The moment Wen Ning let go of his hands, Jiang Cheng stepped out of the front door of the building and saw them.

He said nothing and walked away after stepping out of the gate.

Lan Zhan would have very much liked to flip a finger at Jiang WanYin’s forehead. Hard. Wei Ying would have done the same, he was sure.

Wei Ying would have also smacked some sense in his baby brother, forcing him to face his feelings and take responsibility for what he was doing to poor Mo XuanYu.

Who was currently waiting for the other man’s return like a dog by his room balcony, surveying the front courtyard like a bird of prey from above.

Lan Zhan tried to coax the kid inside, reminding him snow was still falling down and that his beanie was slipping away. He tried to be gentle about it, knowing how much XuanYu had grown resentful of the hats he had to constantly wear.

But the younger man simply shrugged, saying he wanted to wait for another five minutes. Just one more. Just to make sure.

Jiang Cheng didn’t come back that night.

And Mo XuanYu cried in his sleep clutching the half-empty vial to his chest.

Lan Zhan spent the night watching over him, singing to him the song he had written for Wei Ying. He snuggled close to XuanYu and made sure his wide headband was covering the crown of his head, before pressing himself to the other’s forehead.

He never stopped singing.

Wishing he could take all the pain away.

YanLi, A-Yuan and even ZiXuan knocked on his door to greet him into the new year, despite how XuanYu should have been the one to pay his respects to his landlords.

But they asked him to visit the funeral home with them instead, to say their thanks to YanLi’s parents with offers and flowers.

He dressed in his best clothes, having never been in what seemed to be a modern version of the ancestral halls of his childhood in a past life. The establishment was fairly sterile, with shelves filled with plaques and pictures instead of wooden inscriptions on an altar. The lot of them bowed and said their thanks, chatting with the late Jiangs almost as if they had never left. YanLi apologized to her mother for Jiang Cheng’s absence that year like any other year, while ZiXuan told his father-in-law how they would have visited the Jin ancestors during Chūnjié to make it fair.

XuanYu looked at them and barely kept himself from crying.

On their way back, YanLi explained her parents had died when she was still twelve and Jiang Cheng was merely six. How they had lived in the orphanage run by XiChen’s mother and made friends with the boy, who was YanLi’s classmate. How the siblings stayed there until YanLi came of age and got custody of her baby brother. ZiXuan’s family of lawyers had helped her pro bono and that was how she had met the man and fallen in love with him. Even if it had taken a while for ZiXuan to notice her at first, preoccupied with university and law school as he had been at the time. But the Jins helped her with the inheritance left by the late Madame Yu: the apartment complex where they currently lived.

Watching them explaining their past in such detail moved XuanYu deeply. Feeling as if they wanted to make him part of their family by filling in the gaps for him.

That was still his older brother after all and those were still his sister-in-law and his beloved nephew and he... he loved them. He had missed them so, so much.

And he was about to leave them again soon.

Wen Qing finally showed herself up one day at the park, when Mo XuanYu was taking Fairy out for an evening walk. She approached him by telling the younger man she had assisted in the surgery Xue Yang had undergone some time back.

Lan Zhan (hiding in the kid’s coat pocket) could see how startled the kid was at the mention of the criminal, but he decided to trust this version of Lady Wen as he would have done in the past.

Wei Ying cared deeply for her, after all.

Whatever truths she was about to entrust Mo XuanYu with, Lan Zhan knew the kid could take it.

He hoped as much, at least.

Jiang Cheng came back only for Chinese New Year. Saying he had stayed at XiChen’s since the winter break allowed them to take it easy and figure some stuff out for the following school year.

It hurt to know where he had been all along, but XuanYu braved a smile anyway. He knew how much Jiang Cheng cared for the older man, how much he wanted to save the school from the debt collector. How much he didn’t love XuanYu back.

So he let himself cry one last time before waking up one morning and deciding he had had enough.

He talked with Lan Zhan, asking him to tell him all about Wei WuXian and their love. If XuanYu’s sacrifice had allowed them to be happy as they deserved in the end. If Lan Zhan hated him now, for forcing him away from his loved one, who was currently waiting for him to come back to heaven.

Mo XuanYu knew the couple had sacrificed their chance at reincarnation to allow him to seek a second lifetime for himself. He knew Wei Ying watched over them from up above, waiting for Lan Zhan to secure a new life for the kid.

They talked all day and then well into the night.

By dawn Mo XuanYu had decided what to do.

XuanYu properly met Meng Yao one day of early spring, when flowers weren’t yet brave enough to poke their way out and greet the sun. The man was dressed in black, his hair cut short, a sigarette between his lips as he waited patiently for the kindergarten to open.

It was XuanYu’s duty to open that morning, so he was the one to greet the man.

Upon hearing his voice, Meng Yao immediately recognized him.

“There you are. I was waiting for you.”

“Me?”

“You’re the kid who answered the phone. And the one who helped my subordinate back in winter, right?”

His dimples were so deep, his face so pleasant.

Mo XuanYu remembered him from another lifetime. He remembered how much he had cared for his older brother Jin GuangYao. How hurt he had felt when the other had lied and accused him of harassment just to get rid of him.

But this was a new life and Meng Yao was just a man.

Who happened to have been married with XiChen for a while before turning to a life filled with crime and gang violence.

Wen Qing had told him Meng Yao had initially tried to live far away from his adoptive father Wen RuoHan. All for the sake of marrying XiChen and keep him safe. But XiChen’s mother still had had a debt to pay for the construction of the orphanage, a price too high for her to pay with her poor health and delicate disposition. A debt that XiChen had inherited from her when she had died.

That was why Meng Yao had left him: to go back to his father and ask him to handle the debt himself, supplicating him to overlook such small issue and let him dry XiChen out of every penny and cent instead.

Wen Qing may have learned this only from the gossiping running in her family, with the Wen Clan being as big as it was, but she was pretty sure of what she had told XuanYu. That Meng Yao had simply faked having fallen out of love with XiChen to protect him from his adoptive father and his cruelty. That XiChen still loved him and was waiting for him to fight alongside him instead.

Mo XuanYu knew all of this.

So now he could act and fulfill his mission.

“I want to pay the debt XiChen owes you.”

“You are full of surprises, XuanYu. And how do you plan to do that?”

“I can do many things.”

“You’re very pretty, you can make good money out of it.”

XuanYu considered his words before shaking his head.

“It’s not something I can do.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I’ll solve everything.”

“I’m all ears.”

“But you’ll have to stop making XiChen worry so much.”

“That’s not how business work...”

“Lie to me. Give your word and I’ll... I will solve everything.”

Meng Yao humored him and nodded.

Then and only then, Mo XuanYu took his hat off.

Lan Zhan had watched the entire scene unfold before his eyes without intervening, trusting Mo XuanYu with such an important choice. He took in the sight of the beautiful spiritual light shining brightly on top of XuanYu’s head like a crown.

His soul in full display, its energy so raw it had slowed down time all around them.

Lan Zhan turned around and looked at XiChen, who had just turned a corner and had been walking towards XuanYu to greet him good morning. Frozen in time, his older brother’s face still looked peaceful... simply because he had had no time to notice Meng Yao’s presence quite yet.

Lan Zhan turned once more and saw Jiang WanYin making his way in a rush towards them, surely to protect XuanYu from Meng Yao. When did he arrive? His features trapped in a perpetual frown, scared for the one he truly loved in this lifetime.

Then, Lan Zhan looked up at Mo XuanYu and saw him taking the bottle only half filled with gold... which symbolized his goodwill and generous spirit.

“Will this be enough to grant a wish, Lan Zhan?”

When XuanYu said his name like that he sounded so much like his Wei Ying, full of hope and love.

“It depends on the wish, A-Yu.”

“I reckon it’s not enough for a new reincarnation, eh?”

“It’s enough to save a life... but not yours.”

XuanYu looked crestfallen, but he persevered still.

The bottle transformed into a bag filled with money and XuanYu made his way to XiChen and left it at his feet before smiling up at his mentor and employer.

“I cannot rewrite the past, but maybe I can plan a better future for you.”

Still smiling, XuanYu slowly walked over to Jiang Cheng and said his farewells.

Then he crouched down and took Lan Zhan in his hands, kissing him goodbye on the head affectionately.

“Erase me well, Lan Zhan,” he whispered then.

Before disappearing into thin air.

***

Wei Ying had agreed with him, suggesting the idea himself.

In the end the King of Hell had granted Lan Zhan’s request and offered Mo XuanYu a second chance anyway. Since this new self-sacrifice had been fueled by positive emotions instead of anger and despair, the hell judges had considered the atonement fulfilled and put the kid’s name back on the reincarnation list.

Twenty years had past and many things had changed.

For starters, the kid’s last name wasn’t Mo anymore, but Nie. The boy had, in fact, born into Nie MingJue’s family and had lived overseas in Japan for a while before moving back to Lanling when XuanYu turned twenty. Nie HuaiSang had met him many times during summer vacations and other festivities, visiting his brother and his wife every chance he had gotten to dote on his cute nephew XuanYu.

Nie MingJue had done a remarkable job in protecting him from harm. So, by the time their little family had decided to move close to HuaiSang, XuanYu had become a well adjusted adult with a brilliant future ahead of him.

Nobody remembered him.

Or so Lan Zhan had thought.

Apparently, he had forgotten to wipe Jin Ling’s memories thoroughly. So, when The Nie family had come to greet HuaiSang’s friends YanLi and ZiXuan, A-Ling almost had a stroke out of incredulity and happiness for being reunited with his “A-Yu”. Even if Jin Ling was now older than the pretty-gege from his memories. Even if he had spent years trying to figure out why nobody seemed to remember the weird uncle living next door to his Jiujiu years back.

XiChen and Meng Yao had solved their problems and had started running the school together right after Wen RuoHan sudden and mysterious disappearance. The man had many enemies after all.

A-Yuan had grown up into a fine young man, someone Wei Ying would have certainly been proud of, working with his cousin Wen Ning at the local botanical garden while his friends still studied in university.

Nie HuaiSang had married Qin Su and opened a restaurant with her.

MianMian and Wen Qing had decided to live together and adopt a bunch of dogs just because.

Xiao XingChen and Xue Yang still lived together while Song Lan had found his way back to them after talking it out with the couple.

A-Qing was probably running some sketchy business in social services to protect kids from horrible families.

Lan Zhan was still, unfortunately, a stuffed rabbit. Following XuanYu in his new life in the most unexpected of ways. In the form of the first present the boy’s uncle had gifted him in childhood. If Wei Ying had pulled a string or two from heaven to make that happen, well, Lan Zhan himself was none the wiser. The only thing he knew was that XuanYu had always taken him with him in all his travels even if he didn’t know he could speak. Lan Zhan had preferred not to reveal his nature and let the kid have a normal childhood. Especially since he had no memories of his past as a tenant in Jiang YanLi’s house. Nor of his life as a cultivator.

Wei Ying had agreed they could wait to be reunited again. The both of them wanting to look over XuanYu for a little longer before getting their own chance at reincarnation. They had all eternity to be together again... they could definitely wait a bit more for the kid.

All was well.

Aside from the other person whose mind Lan Zhan had conveniently forgot to wipe clean of any memory of XuanYu.

In his defense, Lan Zhan had tried to make Jiang Cheng forget. But something about XuanYu must have touched him so deeply... that Lan Zhan had not been able to do much about it. The kid’s smiles and clumsy antics would always linger in the back of the other’s mind no matter how much he tried to ignore them.

Coming back from his job at ZiXuan’s firm, exhausted and vulnerable, Jiang Cheng decided to visit his sister the same day Nie MingJue had brought his family there. So he was particularly weak to the sight of a bright, soft XuanYu when YanLi introduced her younger brother to their guests.

To Lan Zhan’s absolute delight, Jiang Cheng immediately bowed down to a scary looking Nie MingJue and asked his son’s hand in marriage.

Yes, grovel to this precious boy and learn your place.

XuanYu only tilted his head at that weird man bowing to his parents and smiled.

His laughter ringing up to the sky, where Wei Ying was still listening.

From where he would have kept watching.

[I worked so hard on this please reblog]

[kobato means “little dove” I thought it was cute since XuanYu is a magpie! + I wanted MXY a chance at life and for once this is a reversal-sacrifice from WWX’s part and I think it’s neat.]

[JC would be 43 or so... which yikes. but this is all I could do. I don’t like huge age gaps but at least everyone is a consenting adult, okay?]

[the thing that started this was like “what if LXC was an only child and LWJ did not reincarnate bc he’s still in the afterlife or something? then the entire thing escalated so...yeah.]

now I will cry for ages. I worked so hard on this good god D:

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs/au: clamp #mdzs/au: kindergarten #mdzs/au: kobato #mdzs/au: modern #mo xuanyu #jiang cheng #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #RAREPAIR ALERT #I AM TRASH I WILL SHIP JC WITH A ROCK FOR ALL I CARE #xiyao #tw eating disorders mentioned #wangxian #yucheng #chengyu

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