They’d been back in time for less than a month when their father forced Klaus back into the mausoleum. But maybe this time his family can do the right thing.

There was another boy there at the base of the balcony outside of Meng Shi's window, where Meng Yao liked to sit: a boy few years older than him, taller, in finely made clothing that would normally make Meng Yao itch all over in futile envy, but the other boy’s eyes were white around the edges in a way that was immediately, painfully familiar. “Someone’s chasing you?” Meng Yao asked, and the boy’s eyes widened even further, surprised, but he nodded in confirmation. “There’s a trellis around the left side – can you climb up? I'll hide you.” "Thanks," the boy said, later, once the man he called Wen Ruohan had left. "My name is Nie Mingjue. What's yours?"

Not the Pokémon AU you asked for but the one you’re getting anyway. Featuring: full time gym leader and local cryptid Zuko, badge challenger Sokka, and Katara who can only look at so many memes before she flips.

In one world, the members of Class 1A, for the most part, had support systems and ways to cope that let them take things in stride. In another, they are left far more vulnerable to the traumas inflicted on them over and over. It all started with Todoroki Shouto seeing bruises on Yaoyorozu Momo's arm. The members of Class 1A begin to realize they are all far more alike than they thought, and the insecurities, fears, and pain they are facing are too much to handle- and so they decide to run as far away from them as they can, because if the world won't give them family, they'll be each other's family.

Sanji sees Zoro approach from a long-ways off. His shock of green hair is unmistakable, even in a crowd. Speaking of, the crowd parts around him naturally, like water around a boat. They give him suspicious looks as he passes, and it isn’t until Zoro is within eye-shot that Sanji realizes why. There is a bundle of feathers in his arms. “What the fuck are you holding?” Zoro winces and pulls a face. “Yeah, so, I can explain." The bundle of feathers moves and the dirt-streaked face of a child peers up at him. The jumble of feathers aren’t just feathers, Sanji realizes with a jolt. They’re wings.