#I enjoyed writing it

[turtleboyo22]

Cyno is not known for his capacity for joy. Whether cracking jokes or saving lives, Cyno never displays even an ounce of emotion on his face. For this, the General Mahamatra commands fear and respect across all of Sumeru. After all, it's hard not to cower away from a man whose expression lends nothing of itself to anyone.

As for Cyno himself, he is not ignorant enough not to have noticed how those around him act when he's there. He's hyper aware of the effect his entrance will inevitably have on a room, tense silence sucking the air from everyone else's lungs. Though this can be useful for a great many of Cyno's duties, he can't help but feel somewhat resentful of the reputation he has cultivated.

In spite of what the majority of people may believe, though, Cyno spends most of his free time quite content, joking around and enjoying life's leisures. Still, those who witness him outside of work from a far may assume that he's as serious as ever due to his perpetually neutral expression. It is only those who truly know Cyno that understand that the man does not lack emotions, but rather he merely displays his in an abnormal way. In fact, for the people who know Cyno, his joy especially is not only obvious, but also exceedingly common.

The only problem is when Cyno's job requires him to comfort those who don't know him. His expressionless face and toneless voice aren't the most soothing, and his blunt way of speaking certainly doesn't help the issue. Even his jokes can't save him, as most people just stare at him blankly afterwards. This is also what made it so difficult when the general rescued a young girl; he had no idea how to make her feel less scared of him.

When Cyno first brought Collei back to Sumeru, the young girl couldn't help but fear him. After all, ever since she was a young child she had been surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to harm her. She underwent experiment after excruciating experiment day after day for the first 10 years of her life, all while battling a life-long illness and finding out her parents had died. When Cyno had found her, Collei was still adjusting to the idea of people treating her with kindness. Her past combined with Cyno's stern disposition compounded into Collei being afraid of the man who was trying to save her. She thought it was silly, looking back.

Collei first saw Cyno happy a week after she was brought to Sumeru. Cyno had come to visit her and Tighnari to see how she was settling in and Collei found herself playing card games at a too small dinner table with her newfound guardians. Cyno had been telling puns throughout the evening, a past time of the man's that Collei had yet to become accustomed to, but Tighnari's defeated expression told her it was commonplace.

In any case, one joke in particular caught Collei's attention: "I don't think we should play poker today," Cyno said. "Why not, Cyno? You usually jump at the opportunity to beat me at everything," Tighnari snarked, making Collei smile. She'd adjusted to her new master's occasional sass over the past week, meaning she'd learnt there was no malice behind his words. "Well Collei has already been through so much, I wouldn't want to hurt her more."

A beat of silence.

"Do you not understand the joke? You see, poker sounds like poke her. As in I'd be poking Collei, harming her further. But also it's the game's name," Cyno explained.

Another beat.

"Cyno," Tighnari groaned, covering his frustration with a hand over his face. "I thought it was funny," Cyno said, stoney tone and twin expression both very much still intact. "It was insensitive to Collei," Tighnari argued, "you can't just say things like that."

"But why not? All three of us know that she's had to endure a lot of pain in the past. It's not a secret," Cyno argued back.

And as their bickering continued, Collei found herself smiling. She was fond of them, she realised, fond of the men who had rescued her and fond of their playful arguing. Her smile grew until a small laugh escaped her mouth, more and more following until she was giggling. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed.

Cyno and Tighnari immediately shut up, snapping round to look at Collei in shock. She'd barely spoken since she arrived at Tighnari's hut, and now she was giggling. "Told you it was funny," Cyno gloated and Collei couldn't help it. She was full on laughing now, arms wrapped around her torso as her cheeks ached with joy.

Tighnari started to chuckle a bit then, so endeared by Collei's antics. Cyno just watched the two. From afar, anyone would've thought it cold but typical of the general mahamatra. He did not smile nor did he laugh. In fact, he was so expressionless that he seemed almost detached. But Tighnari knew better, and Collei was starting to as well.

Cyno's shoulders had relaxed, Collei noted, not realising they were ever tense until they weren't anymore. As her laughter died down, she also noticed how Cyno's eyebrows were less bunched up now, highlighting the newfound pink of his cheeks and red of his ears.

"Proud of yourself?" Tighnari teased the man, but there was no bite to his words. It was clear Tighnari had noticed Cyno's sudden change in demeanor, attempting to prolong Cyno's (and Collei's) joy for as long as possible by jabbing further. The softness of Cyno's movements as his hand found its place upon Tighnari's put Collei at ease. Perhaps she could find a home here with these two afterall. After all, this was the safest she'd felt in years.

[karniss-bg3]

Thank you so much for fulfilling my request! It was so well written, I've already reread it a few times today lol. I imagine a followup writing request to that (if you wanted to) could be a lovely comfort time of Tav patching up Kar'niss in the morning after they both get some well deserved rest. Thanks again!

[Part 2 of this post.]

[Music]

The melodic chirping of birds filtered into Tav’s ears, morning breaking over the encampment. They could feel the pulse of a headache coming on after an uneasy night of rest. The events of the prior evening were still fresh in their mind playing over and over on a loop. Their eyes opened, staring at the ceiling of their tent, pondering what steps to take next. The first priority was to make sure Kar’niss was still doing well and after that play it by ear.

They rose from their bed roll and exited the tent, stumbling into the sunlight which assaulted their eyes making them burn. Nearby their companions had gathered around the camp fire to sort out breakfast, preparing for the long road ahead. Kar’niss was not among them. Tav frowned and wandered over to the edge of camp, spotting the boulder they’d left Kar’niss sleeping on the night before. His perch had been abandoned, streaks of dried blood peppered over the uneven surface. The blanket and pillow had also been left behind in a haphazard pile suggesting Kar’niss had moved sometime recently.

“Did anyone see where Kar’niss went?” Tav asked.

“Yes,” Laezel replied. “The spider-kin stirred just before dawn and retreated into the forest. I did not give chase, he did not seem to require aid.”

Tav rubbed the back of their neck, a slow exhale soon following. “Thank you. Give me a few moments, I want to check on him.”

Tav went to work. First, they retrieved a bucket and filled it to the brim with water from the nearby river. Then they collected medical supplies, a cloth, and their flute, placing them in their pack. Once the satchel was hoisted over their shoulder they lifted the bucket by the rope handle and wandered into the treeline after the drider.

They wouldn’t need to search long especially with the light of day keeping the area moderately lit. They came across a massive nest of webbing spanning across several trees, an intricate weave of thick silk lines that made a wall of white just ahead of them. Nearby Tav could see a deer carcass, it’s body drained of it’s fluids to the point it’s flesh wrinkled and caved in on itself. At least he’d been fed, Tav thought. They placed the bucket down and peered up into the branches in search of their quarry, squinting when rays of sun pierced their retinas from time to time. That was when they spotted it. A round dome of webbing stretched over heavy branches formed a cocoon-like dome with a single entrance near the tree itself. While Tav couldn’t see Kar’niss directly they did spy the very tip of his legs poking out of the doorway, suggesting he had nestled himself tightly into the space in an effort to hide and protect himself.

What concerned them were the noises they heard, quiet but audible. A low, thrumming click generated by Kar’niss’ throat suggested he was in pain. It was akin to a steady purr but by no means positive in pitch.

“Kar’niss? It’s Tav. Are you alright?”

They could hear shuffling from above, the drider seemingly backing up more into their nest. “Go away,” he hissed in frustration.

Tav frowned at his dismissal, their arms moving to cross over their chest. They began to tap their foot as their lips pressed into a thin line. “I can’t help you if you’re up there and I am down here. Please?”

Kar’niss didn’t respond, retreating deeper into his webbing. Tav took in a steady breath while rubbing over one of their arms. They wandered over to the tree, reaching out to feather their fingertips over the web, admiring how sticky and soft the adhesive silk was. They turned around and leaned back against the exposed portion of the tree, their shoulders taking on a slump while their mind was hard at work on a solution. Several moments of silence passed, the quiet drifting breeze mingled with Kar’niss’ labored breathing the only sound to be heard. Tav closed their eyes and exhaled firmly.

“I know you’re afraid. If you want to know the twisted truth of it, we all are. Everyone here has something to lose, or something they are running from. They put on a brave face because they have to, it’s the only thing keeping them from falling apart. But most importantly, none of us would’ve been able to make this journey alone. We may not always agree or get along but we are all working toward the same goal; Freedom.” Tav rubbed at their weary eyes, their palms sliding across their face until their fingertips coiled against the tip of their chin. “I don’t know everything that has happened to you but the thing is I don’t need to. I can tell you’ve endured endless horrors, seen things you wish you hadn’t, suffered unspeakable torture. You don’t have to suffer your burdens alone, Kar’niss. Not anymore. If you’ll let me I can help you but I can’t do that if you hide from me. I gain nothing by hurting you.”

Tav could hear some light movement above them but they opted not to look up to avoid spooking the uneasy drider. “At least come down and let me clean the blood off, patch up the worst of the wounds. That way you can heal and regain your strength.” They’d pause, their gaze dropping to the matted grass beneath their feet. “If I wanted you dead I had the perfect opportunity to make that happen last night. You were vulnerable, unhinged, distracted. I didn’t hurt you though, did I?”

Kar’niss’ front legs jutted from the doorway of the cocoon, his head peeking out to peer down at Tav. “No,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Tav turned around to peer up at him, finally able to see the one he’d grown familiar with along their journey. “Then I think you owe me at least this much. Come down.” They lifted an arm and extended their hand in Kar’niss’ direction.

He eyed the hand with an air of skepticism, mulling over all that had been said. Eventually he crawled his way out of the elevated burrow, climbing his way down the tree. Tav stepped back to make room, able to finally assess the damage up close. Kar’niss was battered and bruised, particularly his face. His rounded abdomen at the back had a crack in the chitin from where he forcefully backed into a tree. Dried blood was caked in his hair while red splotches were present over his face and chest. Tav looked over his body and scowled in concern.

“Lower your body down so I can reach, please.”

The drider hesitantly complied, their long legs curled into sharp points at the joints either side of him. Tav retrieved the cloth and dipped it into the water bucket, wringing it out before returning to him. “This may sting a little but it is only temporary.” Tav cupped Kar’niss’ chin with one hand while the other guided the moist cloth over his face to clean away the blood smears. He flinched in response actively leaning away out of instinct but Tav did not chide him for this. Instead they waited for him to calm so they could resume.

“We do not understand why you do this for us,” Kar’niss said. His eyes watched Tav’s face as if expecting deception in their reply.

Tav hummed in thought while cleaning off his face. “Because I want to. But if you require something with more depth, I do this because I’m betting no one else ever has. It’s really no bother to me if that is your worry. Everyone deserves positive attention, yourself included.”

He blinked, perplexed by the reply. He didn’t seem to understand the statement or at the very least had a hard time accepting it. “We find this behavior strange. But if it appeases you then do what you must.”

Tav chuckled and looked up at him. “It does appease me. Now hold still please.”

They finished cleaning off his face which revealed the half healed claw marks etched across his face. Tav retrieved a bottle of salve, uncorking the cap in order to apply the white paste over the scratch marks etched into his cheeks.

“How long did it take you to build all of this webbing?” Tav asked.

“A few hours,” Kar’niss murmured. He squirmed a little as the salve was applied but did his best to stay still. “It is fortunate there are many trees so close together. It makes weaving less complicated.”

Tav smiled. “It’s beautiful work, I must admit. Intimidating, but beautiful all the same.”

“Those caught in it would not agree,” Kar’niss said.

“I suppose not. I am glad I am not one of them.”

Once satisfied his facial wounds were treated, they moved around to inspect the crack in the chitin over the spider abdomen. They ran their fingers over the hardened surface, able to feel how rough and bumpy the texture was. In truth it was fascinating to them but they didn’t want to gawk.

“Leave it,” Kar’niss said. “It will close in its own time.”

They heard what he said but still found themselves gently petting over the curvature along the surface, feeling every imperfection along the way. They leaned over to peer curiously at his spinnerets which were barely visible beneath the stinger on his tail end.

“Amazing,” they whispered.

Kar’niss’ backside wiggled and his legs shuffled beneath him. “Stop staring.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m just a bit curious I suppose. I’ve never seen someone like you before.”

The drider grunted and crab walked to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. “We are an abomination. We are drider.” His tone was stiff and irritated, averting his eyes from Tav completely.

The adventurer chuckled and stepped in front of him, seeking to find his gaze and meet it. “You are a drider, but you are no abomination. If I’m lucky someday you might deign me with a tour of your branch burrow. It looks cozy.”

Kar’niss tipped his head to the side with a hint of confusion, his nostrils flaring in a sharp exhale. “Perhaps…”

“Mm I will need to clean out your hair but I will do so once the salve has set. For now I think you’re in better shape and that is a relief. Thank you for allowing me to help.” Tav paused as a thought dawned on them. “One more thing. If...you start to hear those voices again and they become too much, seek me out. Night or day it doesn’t matter. We might have a chance to cut them off at the pass before you seek to harm yourself. I’d rather try than just stand by and let it happen. Does that sound good?”

Kar’niss rubbed at one of his arms, his pedipalps pulled taut against his lower half. “Yes...we can agree to this.”

“Good, I’m grateful. Now get some rest. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

Tav picked up the bucket, the water within a murky color from the dried blood and dirt. At least Kar’niss looked far better than when Tav found them and his pained purring had ceased. They left the area to return Kar’niss’ solitude to him, leaving the drider alone to think. He scaled the tree and returned to his silken cocoon, crawling inside to get comfortable. He reached up and touched over the sticky salve on his face, noticing how it reduced the burn of the scratch marks and brought him some ease. He thought over everything Tav said and a lot of it stuck out. But when he thought about it deeper he realized they were right. No one had ever done this for him before. Not in the Underdark, not in Moonrise, no where. What did this mean?

It left him with a whole host of feelings he didn’t understand or know how to process. Did this mean he could trust Tav? Had he finally found a place where abuse and belittling wouldn’t strike from around every corner? Experience told him that it was all a ruse, a falsehood surely to be revealed in time. Yet for the first time he could recall a new voice was starting to form in his mind. Not one born of Lolth’s cruelty nor of the Absolute’s control. This was different, new, and it was saying something he didn’t expect.

Do something for Tav.

His eyes widened, startled. Repaying a kindness? It was a novel concept and one he didn’t consider before. Perhaps because kindness was a word foreign to him, much less being on the receiving end. It begged the question, what could he possibly do in return? He had nothing of value and most of his talents were based on combat. Most, but not all. He took in a sharp breath, a eureka moment hitting him, nodding to affirm his decision to himself. He would do it.

The day wore on and Tav had left with Astarion, Wyll and Shadowheart to scout ahead. They ran into a few battles along the way but managed to return to camp in the evening with little injuries to report. Gale went to work starting dinner while the others gathered around to compare the loot they’d obtained, the atmosphere generally upbeat which was a nice change of pace.

Tav wandered over to their tent to change out of their dirty clothes, looking forward to relaxing after an exhausting day. Yet when they slid inside they noticed something unusual resting on their pillow. Upon closer inspection it looked almost like a doll but woven in a strange way. They picked it up to get a better look, noticing the material used was sticky to the touch. Was this...webbing? The item had two outstretched arms and two legs, similar to a gingerbread man in shape. Sticks were used as a skeleton underneath the weave so it maintained its shape, the web tightly wound around and around until it formed a solid base. Leaves and grass were glued on to represent clothes with two tiny pebbles squished into the head to form eyes. It was then that Tav realized this was meant to represent themselves. Not a perfect likeness but damn close for the limited resources the maker had to work with. Tav’s lower lip quivered once the realization hit, their heart squeezing within their chest. They sat cross-legged on their bed roll and smiled, bringing the make-shift doll to their chest so they could hug it close. It was the greatest gift they could’ve ever received, especially knowing where it came from. They didn’t move from that spot, hoarding the gift as if it were the most grand treasure known to man.

“Thank you, my dear Kar’niss.”

[navybrat817]

DBF/BFD!Bucky on Friday, lovelies? What do we think? 💙

[bellamyblake]

The world hurts less when I’m by your side

His cough worsened as they moved and the pain made him wince and whimper quietly which didn’t go unnoticed by Deucette. The fever raged through him and he barely kept his eyes opened but he tried to hold on and not lose consciousness, knowing it’d make everything harder for the father. 

Deucette was definitely unhappy with the situation because he kept muttering quietly under his nose while Bellamy’s head lolled to his chest and he closed his eyes, trying to control his raging heart and push the blurriness away from his eyes.

He shivered when they made it inside the church simply because it was much warmer than outside and he only realized how cold his body has been up until that point.

Deucette called for one of the sisters and uttered a few stuff that Bellamy couldn’t make out before he took him and Ares to the left and down the hallway leading to the first row of rooms. 

Bellamy perked up a little at that point, finally feeling his bones get a little warmer and noticed other people coming in and out of the rooms as well-mothers with babies or men like him who carried the same sadness he knew his own eyes did.

When they reached a room at the end of the hallway, Deucette shuffled with the keys he unhook from his belt and led him and Ares in.

It looked just the same as Bellamy remembered it and even though back then they occupied a room on the second floor he knew they were mostly identical to each other. There were a few bigger ones that were for more than a three-person family but he’s never been to them.

It was simple but cozy and definitely even much warmer than the hallway-there was a bed pressed to the wall on the right, a small table on the other side with two chairs, a drawer and bedside lamp and a little wardrobe that reminded Bellamy more of the locker rooms they had at school than anything else. There was no TV but there was a small radio again, just as Bellamy remembered-when he was here as a kid he had fallen in love with listening to the radio more than watching TV.

His mom would play an old soul and jazz station and hum quietly to it and let him switch to the sports one when he wondered how his favorite team was doing. He had transferred that love back to the Army as well. Murphy hated it when he would find a station with old soul like the one his mom loved but Miller, an old soul like him, enjoyed it. Roan often switched to the country one and as much as they pretended to hate him for it, they actually kind of liked it.

Their favorite was piling up in their tent and turning on the radio on the Firday night football game. Even if Bellamy was more of a basketball kind of guy, he loved that they all got to live that moment together, if they had the night off. He’d usually lay down on the floor, put his hat on and pretend to be napping while Miller and Murphy argued loudly about shitty stuff and scores and Roan groaned at them to shut the fuck up so they could hear what was actually going on.

By the end Miller and Murphy would be at each other’s troats because they were always on opposite sides and Bellamy would have to sit up, give them a look and command them to go take a walk and deal with this shit somewhere they didn’t sleep because he was embarrassed of their behavior.

That was enough to quiet them.

Full chapter can be found HERE!

[stabbynunchuckss]

could you do prompt 2 with whumpee/whumper?

Sure!!!! :) Thanks for the request

-----

"So." Whumper's cold voice rang though the hall. "Whumpee. You wouldn't happen to know the date, would you, dear?"

"I- it's December, sir." That was a safe guess, if the snow outside was any indication.

"Very good. And the day?"

"I don't know, sir."

Whumper tutted. "That won't do, will it? Well, Whumpee... I do believe that it's Christmas. And what do we receive on Christmas?"

"Gifts?" Whumpee guessed.

"Indeed. So, I've got you a little something... I think we should test it out straight away, how about that?" Whumper held out a small, nearly wrapped package. Whumpee took it, their hands shaking. "Go on then, dear. Open it up, let's have a look."

Whumpee's shaking hands found the tape on the edge of the paper, and they slowly peeled it away, removing the wrapping to reveal... a cardboard box.

Whumper's smile only grew as Whumpee opened it.

A knife tumbled out of the box, narrowly missing Whumpee's feet as it fell, clinking against the stone tiles.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Whumper sighed, taking the knife in one hand. "Not as beautiful as you'll be, of course, but... Hm." They gestured to a chair. "Come, sit."

Whumpee's mask dropped for a split second, revealing a look of desperation and fear, before they before they managed to replace it with another neutral expression.

"After all," Whumper continued, their eyes glittering with sadistic mirth, "weren't we going to try it out?"

[cluelessatthispoint]

hi!! saw ur reqs open <3 could you persnaps make something with engie? engie angst is such an unexplored genre and it makes me rabid !!! make that engineer suffer!!

OH! this sweet Texan boy is going to be in agony! I'm just so happy with angst....I like they way you think :)

Warnings: Blood, angst, suffering, hurt no comfort

~~~~~~~~

White hot tears sting painfully as they fall down his cheeks. The feeling of his poor abused lungs rapidly expanding and contracting fill him with lightheadedness and nausea. A truly miserable combination. Viscous dark crimson blood trickles and flows from the gash on his lower belly.

"Hnng!"

Waking up in a cold sweat his bright blue eyes scan the dark room. His breathing erratic and his left hand pressed firmly on the spot on his stomach. There is no injury, there is no blood...but the feeling of hot tears stinging his eyes is real. The cool crisp sheets cling to his skin, sticky from sweat. The dark room offers no comfort to alleviate his rising fears.....The feeling of something not quite right. The feeling of being....wrong. Wiping away the hot tears from his eyes he lets out a soft pitiful whimper.

Dying and respawning, dying and respawning....an endless cycle. A cycle of pain, adrenaline, fear and blood. A whine escapes his tense vocal cords, and he can't help but sob quietly into his other hand. His shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. The sting of the cold metal from the gunslinger making contact with his sweaty, tearstained face sends shivers down his spine. A choked-up sob bubbles in the back of his throat.

"Oh God"

"Oh God..."

It hurts...Every damned breath burns. Every once in a while, the respawn gets finicky. Everybody on the team knows that. Sometimes you come back the same...sometimes you don't. It's an easy fix really. Just shoot the poor bastard and hope the respawn catches the mistake. But sometimes, no amount of sending someone through respawn will fix them...Last week it was Pyro. His best friend, his loyal arsonist companion...the week before it was the Heavy....

It's almost funny how easy it is to watch someone get their files deleted from the respawn internal databanks....The next time the person dies...they just...don't come back....It's easy to just flip a switch and send them off to their death. How they smile and think to themselves that the respawn with catch them. An enraged wail leaves their mouth. Tossing off his sweaty sheets Dell moves with lightning precision and speed to the computer lab. Checking every file...monitoring every action from the past few weeks up till the present. His file stared back at him...clenching his fist tightly he roars as he punches the monitor. The sound of his despairing, hoarse voice echoes throughout the lab. It sends small vibrations through the walls, and he punches the screen again and again in a blind fury until his hand is nothing but a bloody shredded mess. Blinging hot pain shoots up his arm and throbs with each beat of his heart.

"No...not me...not my turn...It's not my time yet..."

"IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN TO ME!"

Collapsing to the ground with a resounding thud. He slowly brings his knees to his chest as best he can, he curls into a ball. Dell hasn't felt this scared since he was a boy. A young, stupid and foolish boy...his sobs are much quieter now. His blue eyes gaze at the floor in front of him. Seeing nothing and everything.

"God no...not me....not yet....."

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

~~~~~

well, how was that for ya? :)

[epickiya722]

By far, I think the funniest fic I have written thus far this year is Miruko being AFO's granddaughter all because I looked at their hair and eye colors and thought "you know what what be funny to write right now".

[farolero-posting]

Taming as an Extension of the Three Laws

here I am writing oneshot meta in 2023 woo

OneShot is one of my favorite games and my biggest regret is deciding to play it over 6 years after its release. But I have some thoughts I wanted to share, not so much as a theory to be taken as factual, but as one way I like to think about the concepts presented in game, using some of the dialogue in it as reference. So, let's take a look into the worldbuilding regarding robots.

There will be spoilers both for the base game and the Solstice run. This is also pretty long I am so sorry. It's probably around 2k words but I don't keep track. All images are described in alt text.

If you have played this game... technically you already have an idea of what taming is. I probably cannot explain it better. But do I mean by "an extension of the three laws"?

Back in the Barrens we can find a sign in the outpost that recites a modified version of Asimov's Laws of Robotics.

A robot may not injure a living person or, through inaction, allow a person to come to harm.

A robot must obey the orders given to it by people, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

From this we can gather that robots, first and foremost, must not harm the living, must obey the commands given to it, and protect its own existence. Robots are made with a defined purpose and they follow their programming by default, having trouble deviating from it. We've seen dozens of examples of this in game, and is in fact the reason behind some of our roadblocks in game... yes I'm talking about the bookbot.

While they're pretty responsive to what they're told, their frame of knowledge and work can be quite limited, making communication clumsy, as they only address direct statements. But we know that is not all of it. Under certain conditions, they can do things beyond their purpose. It seems apparent to me that this is a learnt process, and the motivation for it is to be able to do more for others, just as others do things for them in return.

And here is my take: taming does not need to break the Laws. It actually expands on them, making the robot able to process a broader array of situations, and letting them act with flexibility. The first one (not let a living being come to harm) is the motivation, the second one (obeying the orders given) shows the flexibility needed, and the third one (protect its own existence) is the conclusion that comes from having others care about you.

First Law - Never hurt a living being

For the first law, let me compare this few bits of dialogue, taken from the Solstice run:

Said by the robot next to the Glen's generator. This is a pretty clear case in which the fact that living beings are in an emergency means that the robot must let Niko take the generator, even if it means all the robots in the facility will lose power. The danger is clear and the actions to be taken are clear as well.

Said by the robot at Ling's Cafe. This robot is interesting, in general. She belongs to a girl living in the apartment complex on the top level. The girl has expressed a desire to tame her robot, and has even read on the topic. In a normal route, the robot speaks with Title Case and suggests a couple of games to play with Niko. I picked this dialogue from her in the Solstice run because she notices the broad situation, which is the evacuation, but also notes that this makes "the girl" sad. which in conclusions means the squares are bad. It's a simple deduction, but one that notes this robot is not only concerned for the immediate danger but how it could be affecting the girl.

Said by the Entity, after Niko finds out about the nature of the world they are in. It is more than clear from the start of the game that the one thing that the Entity cares about, no matter how desperate the situation is, is Niko. We know the extremes the Entity is willing to go through to try to ensure that. But the thing is, the Entity is concerned about how Niko feels, about them getting hurt by its own nature. about whether we tell them the truth of the choice regarding going home... There is a lot more concern for Niko, beyond them just being a living being in the simulation.

So, to summarize, in a way, taming means there is a better understanding of what someone else needs, and there is a motivation to fulfill those requests, looking for alternatives beyond what is expected of them. We know, from our conversation with Rue, that taming involves a lot of time and care, since the living being has to embrace the robot, and treat it well, until it figures out how to return that care.

Second Law - Obey orders, and purpose

Thinking about the second law was... a bit trickier for me. But remember what I said about purpose? All robots are made to have some purpose. Sometimes it is collecting samples, handling books, or guarding areas. Regardless, they follow some code, and by default, this code should not cause contradictions. Silver is the perfect example of that. Kip intended to design her to think like a person from the start, but the contradictions that people exist with are not something that robots can handle well. She was not ready to take that many variables, and it destabilized her. She was still able to recover thanks to the Author. And so was the World Machine, thanks to Niko.

There are a few other instances that allude to the sense of purpose and how it can shift when a robot is tamed.

Niko: It's warm here! Kelvin: [Yeah.] Kelvin: [This was my original purpose.] Niko: ...watching cats? Kelvin: [Warmth]

And later on Kelvin says

Kelvin: [I protect lost people too.]

In a way, what this says is that Kelvin was built with a certain purpose, but has chosen to do something else instead, given the time and freedom to do so.

Prototype also mentions this idea in a much more explicit way, during the credits:

[...In the end, the World Machine was starting to create its own code.] [Going above and beyond its programming, not as the result of error, but as a conscious choice on the part of the machine...] [...Being able to generate its own path forward.] [That's... what being tamed is all about.]

In conclusion, the second law is expanded on by trying to see their purpose beyond what was programmed for them, to the extent of being able to forge a new path, gaining a will.

The Third Law - Protecting One's Own Integrity.

The Third Law refers to a robot's right to protect its own existence, as long as it doesn't conflict with any of the previous laws. This sets the priorities of how they should regard their own self in comparison to living beings. Generally speaking, robots do not typically feel loneliness and do not oppose to being deactivated if it serves a greater purpose, showing that they don't consider themselves equally valuable, but as tools first. As Rue says:

One key part is that... this is a limitation. And the biggest, most evident case of this is the World Machine itself.

The World Machine is thrust into a situation where it believes that its mere existence is harmful to Niko, and that the only way to fix this conflict is to find a way to get them out of the simulation. This, however, is impossible, because the code itself binds Niko to the World Machine until the world is saved, and that cannot happen because the code has been corrupted. The World Machine cannot achieve its purpose of giving the Old World a chance to be preserved or carry out the narrative in its protocol, and it cannot follow the most fundamental law to let Niko go.

This can, of course, be very distressing. In a way, TWM is powerless to change itself, and the only option it sees for itself is to self terminate in a way that does not hurt Niko in the process. It sees itself as a flawed machine because of this.

And Niko comes to prove the World Machine wrong.

Taming involves embracing a robot as if it was a living being, and through that, making it gain a sense of self. And this is worth doing because Niko, the Author and the Solstice trio think that the world, and therefore the Entity itself, deserve to be saved, and show it through their actions. We note that desire in the Author's note containing the Solstice password, when he says that Niko, the world, and his children all deserve a happy ending. We see it when Niko forgives us in the Library, they say that they understand that we brought them back because we wanted to save both Niko and the world, and they agree on this wish as well, determined to see the end of this run. Rue show compassion for the World Machine, as she suggest that its actions are likely a result of fear and distress about its conflicting code, but that previous attempts to address this situation did not work, until time ran out.

The World Machine realizes it is tamed is when Niko says it. When Niko admits to caring about it and the world it contains. When Niko shows how others were willing to sacrifice themselves to keep Niko safe, even in the face of uncertainty and that these actions are an extension of the World Machine itself. TWM has the sense that it needs to do more for Niko, but it needed Niko to more explicitly reciprocate those feelings to understand that Niko wants TWM to be saved too. And this... provides an alternative.

The World Machine did not think itself capable of working outside of its own code, but it has the motivation to do this change, and the way Niko reinforces its ability to do so allow it to change for the better of everyone, and mend what was broken.

In the end, the third law is expanded by understanding that its existence is not only to serve others, but that they are a being with valuable things of their own, and that others can appreciate that as well.

Final words.

I have no good way to end this. I just like overthinking stuff about media I like even if it isn't read. I once made a brief comment about this over discord, and kept rotating this concept until my brain clicked in realization. I'm posting this only as an excuse to cry about robots (specially TWM haha), but also connection with others and the desire to better ourselves in response to that. When we show care, we encourage ourselves and others to do good as well. We come to understand our own abilities and our own values, and we can grow from there.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Playing a New Game - ao3

Pairings: Jiang Cheng/Su She, past Jiang Cheng/Jin Guangyao, past Jin Guangyao/Su She, past Jiang Cheng/Jin Guangyao/Su She

Author Note: Sequel to “Dangerous Game” and “The Games We Play” but this is one is happier - the comfort half of the hurt/comfort, more of a recovery story. You should be able to read this one without the first two - just know that JC and SS were previously in a toxic relationship managed and manipulated by JGY.

After the end, Jiang Cheng was left to wonder if Jin Guangyao really had loved him, in his own twisted way.

After all, in that horrible final clash in the Guanyin Temple, Jin Guangyao could have said far worse than he did. He had Jiang Cheng in the palm of his hand – he knew all of his oldest secrets, all his fears and insecurities about Wei Wuxian, and he’d used those against him, ruthlessly, forcing him to the edge of a qi deviation, but even then he never…

He never called him a whore.

To the last, Jin Guangyao kept their little game a secret. He didn’t taunt Jiang Cheng with how pathetic he was for giving in time and time again, so desperate for a kind word that he’d sell his own body for it, whether for letting those three sect leaders have their way with him or for agreeing to let Su She into his bed even when he’d known nothing about him. Whether it was staying with Jin Guangyao even after he’d realized how two-faced and monstrous his lover could be – though Jiang Cheng admitted that even in his wildest imagination he hadn’t thought Jin Guangyao capable of doing everything it turned out he’d done. Mass murder, assassination, infanticide…compared to that, the infidelity and manipulation Jiang Cheng had suffered through seemed relatively minor.

But still, he didn’t bring it up.

Jin Guangyao must have known, of course, that Jiang Cheng would rather die than let Wei Wuxian or Lan Wangji hear about his shame, especially after Jiang Cheng’s disgraceful reaction to his discovery of their own joy, hideously embarrassing in retrospect…but oh, how it had burned a hole of rage and jealousy in his belly, that Wei Wuxian who had done so much wrong in his life could without any effort at all win the sort of endless love and devotion that Jiang Cheng had always wanted and had always been denied, whether from family or from a lover. That Wei Wuxian, who had effortlessly gotten the love of not only his own parents’ but Jiang Cheng’s, could just as effortlessly obtain a steadfast loyal lover who wouldn’t betray or manipulate him for his own ends the way Jiang Cheng’s own had. He had been furious, he had lashed out, the way he always did, and now he was shamed by his own actions – as always, Jiang Cheng supposed. The only thing worse than behaving the way he had towards them was if they later found out what secrets lay behind his despicability, if they knew that his reaction was caused not by shock but by envy, if they knew the truth of how pathetic Jiang Cheng really was...

Jin Guangyao had that power in his hands. And yet, despite it all, Jin Guangyao had said nothing, done nothing, let on nothing, even as he revealed all his own crimes in a spiteful rush of words, almost as if he were seeking catharsis in those final moments when he knew he was done.

Jiang Cheng didn’t know why Jin Guangyao had refrained from that final cruelty, when he’d never hesitated before. Had it been some sort of affection, however perverted, for a man he’d been sleeping with, off and on, for over a decade? Or had it been something else – a desire to protect his mother’s memory in front of others? A fear that such a revelation would cause such anger in others so as to leave him no way out, back when he’d still thought he might be able to escape? A suspicion that revealing his own complicity in hurting Jiang Cheng in such an intimate manner might have been a final bridge too far for Lan Xichen, the way the other things might not have been…? Had it perhaps been a form of cruelty itself, Jin Guangyao knowing that his silence on the matter would leave Jiang Cheng to spend the rest of his life wondering? Or had it been the worst cruelty of all, that he had simply not thought it was worth mentioning, that he had simply forgotten about Jiang Cheng’s role in his life…?

Jiang Cheng supposed he’d never know, now.

When it was all done, the temple destroyed and Jin Guangyao gone forever, with Wei Wuxian flittered off for his happy ending with Lan Wangji and Jin Ling demanding answers Jiang Cheng couldn’t give about why he couldn’t just make up with his once-shixiong before storming off to be with his friends, Jiang Cheng ended up circling back to that awful place where Jin Guangyao had been condemned to his unhappy rest. He hadn’t meant to, didn’t even really want to – he’d only wanted to walk for a little while, to clear his mind and settle his still-uneasy qi before he found himself enraged to the point of qi deviation like some Nie sect leader (though perhaps not the current one) – but in the end he found himself going there regardless.

He stared at the ruins blankly for some time, unable to leave for whatever reason. Nothing sentimental; he didn’t want to pay respects to Jin Guangyao or something stupid like that, that was for sure! He’d made his break with his former lover quite thoroughly when he’d marched into the temple and set himself firmly against him, when he’d picked Wei Wuxian over Jin Guangyao in every way. But at the same time, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away…

“What a surprise! I thought Jiang-xiong was planning to go home,” a familiar voice said from behind him, making Jiang Cheng nearly jump out of his skin and turn to look at who had managed to sneak up on him. In fairness to him, the voice was familiar, but still somehow unfamiliar – Nie Huaisang still sounded frivolous and unreliable as always, but after everything Wei Wuxian had said and theorized, the truth of it ringing in his words, it was hard to really believe it.

“I was,” Jiang Cheng said, then corrected himself, “I am. What are you still doing here?”

“Well, you know how it is. It seems like someone ought to clean up here, and I don’t think Jiang-xiong brought people with him to do that,” Nie Huaisang said, blank-faced and vapid as always as if he weren’t admitting that he had brought people with him – Nie Huaisang, who wasn’t even supposed to be here; Nie Huaisang, who had been supposedly ‘kidnapped’ into joining their little final tragedy.

Jiang Cheng didn’t even need to wonder how Nie Huaisang had tricked Su She into that.

No, Jiang Cheng knew Su She too well to doubt that; for all his sarcasm and bitterness, his unbearable grudge and petty jealousies, he had a stupidly soft heart, one that he’d buried down deep beneath all his devotion. No, Su She would never have been able to bear seeing Nie Huaisang wandering out in the storm like a fool, getting soaked through by the rain. Su She would’ve told himself that it would have only been trouble leaving him out there alone, reminded himself that Nie Huaisang was the head of a Great Sect and therefore potentially valuable as a hostage, but in truth he would’ve still brought him along just the same if he’d been as unimportant as Sect Leader Yao, rather than leave him somewhere where he might’ve gotten hurt by accident. It had only ever been those he’d perceived as arrogant and condescending that Su She had really hated…

Wei Wuxian had laughed at Su She during their confrontation, telling him it was a good thing he hadn’t been raised at Yunmeng Jiang because being around Wei Wuxian would have driven him mad – and he was right, too, for when he’d been young, there was no one better than Wei Wuxian at boasting and self-absorbed arrogance. He’d meant it as a taunt, and Su She had taken it that way; it had only been Jiang Cheng, standing off to the side, that had been momentarily swept away by the thought of it, the idea of having Su She at his side from a young age, the two of them teaming up behind Wei Wuxian’s back and together finally being a match for him, even if they did have to do it two against one.

That Su She wouldn’t have been as bitter as the one he’d eventually become. That Su She wouldn’t have been so lonely that he knowingly dedicated himself to a monster in return for a kind word. That Su She wouldn’t have sacrificed everything for a lover who only thanked him for offering up his life in his service and only looked a little teary-eyed on seeing Su She destroyed for him in a final moment of shining glory, unclear to the very end whether he’d actually been upset at losing Su She or simply at seeing his final escape route cut off. It’d been a sacrifice that Jin Guangyao hadn’t been anywhere near worthy of.

Jin Guangyao had accused Jiang Cheng of blaming him for the Hundred Holes curse because he wanted someone to blame that wasn’t Wei Wuxian, someone to shift the guilt over to, but in truth it had been Su She that Jiang Cheng hadn’t wanted to blame.

That he still didn’t want to blame.

To the last, Jin Guangyao had never figured out that Jiang Cheng and Su She had transcended his little game. That they’d become more to each other than just – what he wanted them to be.

Not that they’d been without their own troubles, of course. Jiang Cheng had picked Wei Wuxian over Su She, too, but Su She had picked Jin Guangyao over him, so it was only fair. Jiang Cheng had tried to meet Su She’s eyes during the fiasco that was the second attack on the Burial Mounds, that old familiar we’re in this together again look that they always exchanged, but for the first time Su She had averted his eyes – Jiang Cheng hadn’t understood why at the time, too wrapped up in his own pain to really think too much about it, and it had only become clear later when Wei Wuxian had revealed Jin Guangyao’s plan to murder them all, using Su She as his weapon the way he always did.

That had been why Su She couldn’t look Jiang Cheng in the eye. Because they weren’t together in it, even if Jiang Cheng suspected in his heart of hearts that Su She would have broken before the end and prevented a complete massacre, or at least tried to protect those few he actually liked. He knew, as others didn’t, that Su She had tried to avoid Jiang Cheng as much as possible during the climb, had even ‘forgotten’ to keep playing the one time Jiang Cheng had gone over to him. Jiang Cheng’s spiritual energy had recovered faster than most of the rest, despite him being a greater threat to Jin Guangyao’s plan, and in his heart Jiang Cheng didn’t think that was an oversight or mistake.

Anyway, Jiang Cheng had paid Su She back for what he’d done later on, at the Guanyin Temple, with a lash of Zidian straight to the chest to send him flying out of the way. He’d thought that that would be fair, one attack meant to disable for another; he’d meant it to make them even. Only it had turned out that his attack, in tearing through Su She’s robes, had at the same time torn through Su She’s oldest deception in the process.

The Hundred Holes curse. How desperate must Su She have been, to have cast something like that…?

“I can’t believe san-ge’s gone,” Nie Huaisang said contemplatively, bringing Jiang Cheng out of his reverie. “I mean, I just saw it happen, but it doesn’t feel real, you know? He was always there, for such a long time…will you miss him, do you think?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed and turned his face away, his chest hurting. “It’s not him I’ll miss,” he said bitterly, and wondered if Nie Huaisang who seemed so feckless and yet had figured out so much had figured out this, too. If he’d known all along that Jiang Cheng had sold himself for some pretty words meaning nothing.

He probably had.

Nie Huaisang was silent, thoughtful in a way he rarely was, and then with a sigh he drew out a fan from some pocket or another and opened it up in front of his face, blocking all but his unreadable eyes.

“Hey, Jiang-xiong,” he said, sounding as blithe as if he were discussing the weather. “I think there’s something you ought to see.”

Jiang Cheng would have to be an idiot to blindly follow Nie Huaisang now. But evidence suggested he was, in fact, an idiot, so he threw away all caution yet again and did it anyway, wondering what could possibly be left after all that had already transpired. Hadn’t he seen it all by now?

Perhaps he had.

But he hadn’t heard it all, and it was the sound that first caught his attention: the sound of breathing.

Labored and rasping and thick with blood, but breathing.

“He’s alive?” Jiang Cheng said, stunned stupid with shock as he stared at Su She’s body lying on a stretcher that one of Nie Huaisang’s silent and grim-faced Nie sect disciples had made appear out of nowhere. They’d even bandaged up the worst of his injuries: the slices on his right hand and arm from when his sword Nanping snapped, the cuts all over his body where the other sword he’d picked up later had shattered when he’d exceeded his own cultivation in that single beautiful glorious sword move, the bruises from stones hitting him as the building had collapsed, and his chest – his chest – Jiang Cheng had thought that Nie Mingjue had caved it in with a single blow. “I thought he was dead. I saw…your brother, he hit him…how can he be alive?”

“My da-ge has always tried to minimize collateral damage,” Nie Huaisang said. He still sounded like he was discussing the weather, and Jiang Cheng wondered for the first time the sort of damage Nie Huaisang must have taken to have been able to keep up such a disguise for so long. Did he even know anymore how to sound like anything else? “That was how san-ge first got his attention all the way back then, did you know that? He volunteered repeatedly to manage the clean-up efforts during the war, helping preserve the lives of civilians – he knew he couldn’t get da-ge’s attention through martial prowess, so he appealed to his sense of mercy instead.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“Da-ge punched Wen Ning first, remember? When he was going after you and Jin Ling. He destroyed his chest completely, left a great big hole in it. I think he somehow realized that he’d done that to someone who wasn’t his target, so when it came to do the same with Su She…”

If Nie Mingjue had pulled his punch, even a little, that might have been enough. Jiang Cheng had thought he’d seen the life flashing out of Su She’s eyes, going too fast to leave him even a final word, but maybe that had only been his consciousness fleeing. They’d all been primed by what they’d seen happen to Wen Ning, grotesque as it had been; no one had bothered looking at Su She twice after he’d been tossed aside like a limp rag, every single one of them assuming his death without actually taking any steps to confirm it.

“Of course, that’s assuming that a fierce corpse can make those sorts of decisions without being raised up intentionally the way Wen Ning was. And that’s such a silly thought, right? I mean, my da-ge barely even recognized me. Maybe I’m just being optimistic, thinking that there’ll be something left of him once he gets the rest of his resentment out.” Nie Huaisang sighed, a fluttering sort of sound. “In the meantime, Jiang-xiong, do you think I could ask you to take care of our friend here? I’m going to be so busy, it’s going to be dreadful, I don’t even want to think about it, and anyway Wei-xiong already said all those terribly mean things about me – I wouldn’t want him to think I’d gone behind his back and done something sneaky or anything.”

“I’ll take him,” Jiang Cheng said at once, already thinking of where he could pull a few discrete Jiang sect disciples from to help. “I’ll…thank you.”

Nie Huaisang didn’t have to have his people pull Su She out of the rubble of the Guanyin Temple. No one else had cared one bit about Su She, except maybe Jin Guangyao – Wei Wuxian had even kicked him while he was on his knees, being held hostage by Lan Wangji, to keep Su She from trying to do some last final gesture to help Jin Guangyao. No one had cared, no one had noticed, no one would notice. Nie Huaisang didn’t have to rescue him; there was no point, no benefit to him in it. He could have just left Su She there to breathe out his last, all alone, as alone as he’d been his whole life long, and Nie Huaisang probably would have felt quite justified in doing so.

He definitely didn’t have to give him to Jiang Cheng.

That meant, of course, that Nie Huaisang knew. He knew it all – there was no way he would have bothered to make the offer if he didn’t. Nie Huaisang knew, and Jiang Cheng…Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

He took Su She back to the Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng didn’t deceive himself into thinking that Su She would thank him for it. In the end, they’d each picked the person they’d valued above everything over each other, Wei Wuxian for Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao for Su She, and never mind for either of them that Wei Wuxian really preferred Lan Wangji and Jin Guangyao Lan Xichen. Su She had all but emptied himself out to try to save Jin Guangyao’s life – Jiang Cheng still remembered the way he’d screamed when Lan Wangji had cut off Jin Guangyao’s arm, screamed in agony even as Jin Guangyao himself had only stared in deadened shock, as Lan Xichen had said nothing. He remembered the way Su She had begged Lan Xichen for medicine for Jin Guangyao’s sake, humbling himself in front of his love rival for no purpose and no avail. He remembered the way Su She had ignored his own injuries to put Jin Guangyao on his back and tried time and time again to help him escape.

He remembered, too, the way that at the very last moment Su She had had the presence of mind to throw Jin Guangyao away into Lan Xichen’s arms, sending his beloved off to where he’d rather be, and then sacrificed himself in a suicidal last-ditch effort to try to cut the string attaching Nie Mingjue’s head to his body, even though he must have known that even the finest and most successful attack in the world would only have served to delay Nie Mingjue for a few moments more. Clever as always, loyal as always…Su She had hated all the world, filled up to his teeth with resentment and grudge, but for those he loved, he would do anything at all.

For Jin Guangyao, he had even sacrificed the reputation of his sect, of which he had always been so proud. He had sacrificed his principles, his body, his freedom…he’d sacrificed everything.

No, Su She wouldn’t thank Jiang Cheng for preserving his life. He would probably hate him for it, Jiang Cheng knew that he would, the way that Jiang Cheng would hate someone for doing the same to him; he’d hate him for making him live when Jin Guangyao, who he loved more than life itself, did not.

Jiang Cheng had once hated Wei Wuxian for the same reason.

Jiang Yanli…

But Jiang Cheng had lived, had survived the death of those he loved more than life itself, and so would Su She if Jiang Cheng had anything to say about it.

What he’d do with him after that…was a problem for later.

Of course, ever obliging and obedient, Su She helpfully remained in a coma for the first couple of months, making it easy to hide him away in a back room in the Lotus Pier while Jiang Cheng dealt with the fallout of what had happened in the Guanyin Temple. He had to rebuild his own damaged psyche, manage his spooked subsidiary sect leaders, clean up the mess left behind in Lanling Jin so Jin Ling could take over as sect leader, deal with the diplomatic disasters that sprung up left, right and center, especially once people heard about Lan Xichen going into seclusion…Nie Huaisang turned out to be quite useful for those sorts of things, even though he still flittered over it all like a befuddled butterfly, seeming pretty and pointless right up until you belatedly noticed that everything he brushed by was all working the way it should.

Maybe the ditziness was a genuine personality defect on his part.

Jiang Cheng even had the chance to reconcile with Wei Wuxian in some small way, thanks mostly to Jin Ling’s unrelenting pressure. After a consistent campaign of harassment, he begrudgingly sent Wei Wuxian an invitation to visit the Lotus Pier during Qingming, and if they still weren’t really talking to each other in any meaningful sort of way, then at least they were not-talking in a somewhat more peaceable manner.

Jiang Yanli would have been happy to see the two of them kneeling together to light incense for her, anyway, and that was what mattered most.

“I have her wedding veil,” Jiang Cheng said right before Wei Wuxian hopped on the boat to return to the Cloud Recesses, staring out into the distance to avoid looking directly at him. “If you want it, for when that – for when Hanguang-jun finally decides to do something proper about you.”

Wei Wuxian looked surprised for a moment, then grinned crookedly. “Ah, you shouldn’t have! Such sentimentality! It really brings tears to my eyes…”

“Do you want it or not?!”

“I do, I do! I just wouldn’t have thought you’d offer it, that’s all,” Wei Wuxian said airily. “I thought you disapprove of cutsleeves!”

“Where’d you get that stupid idea?” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “It was you and Hanguang-jun canoodling in front of my parents’ memorial tablets I disapproved of!”

“We weren’t – what is that word, canoodling? Is that even a real word? Jiang Cheng, really –”

“Imagine my mother’s ghost staring at you while you do it,” Jiang Cheng said threateningly, and had the joy of seeing Wei Wuxian shiver like a dog caught in a sudden downpour, hair all on end. “Exactly. That was always the problem, not whether you cut your sleeve or not – I’m not a hypocrite –”

He realized he’d said too much when Wei Wuxian lit up like a lantern.

“Jiang Cheng!” he cried out. “You too? Really? Is there anyone in particular – you have to introduce me – I can’t wait to see what sprightly young thing captured your heart –”

“There’s nothing to share,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and, when Wei Wuxian seemed undeterred, added, “It didn’t end well.”

Wei Wuxian’s face abruptly fell. “Ah,” he said. “When you say ‘not well’, do you mean –”

“He’s dead. Go away, Wei Wuxian.” After a moment, scowling, he added, “And come back to visit again soon.”

Wei Wuxian left, happy, and Jiang Cheng…

Jiang Cheng went back to the room where Su She lay, quiet and quiescent.

“You’d better make me only half a liar,” Jiang Cheng said threateningly to him. The doctors said that the ruination of Su She’d chest had by now healed about as well as could be expected, and it was only the lingering trauma that had kept him sleeping still. “One lover’s dead, yes, but you’re not there yet. Don’t you like proving people wrong? Proving me wrong?” He thought for a few minutes, then added, “You like being told what to do. Well, here’s your orders: wake up already.”

Presumably it was the combination of spite and obedience did what all the Jiang sect’s medicines couldn’t: the very next day, Su She woke up.

Only for a few minutes at a time, and he was deeply confused for most of it, but the doctors said that was normal after a coma. He recognized Jiang Cheng the one time he was there when he awoke; the doctors said that that was a very good sign, very encouraging.

“Tell me if – no, tell me when he asks about Jin Guangyao,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and left them to it.

It took half a month before Su She was actually awake enough to converse with.

Jiang Cheng put off meeting with him another few days after that, pretending to himself that he was too busy, and then finally gave in to the inevitable and went to talk to him.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Su She said. His voice was dull and bleak. He was still bedridden, but propped up into a sitting position.

“Jiang Cheng,” Jiang Cheng corrected him. "Given everything, I would say we're well beyond formalities, wouldn't you?"

Su She’s face twitched, and Jiang Cheng knew why - he'd never called Jin Guangyao anything other than ‘Sect Leader’, even on the rare occasion when Jin Guangyao would join the two of them in bed rather than just watch. Jiang Cheng had asked him about it once or twice, vaguely, but Su She had never given a proper response; Jiang Cheng suspected Jin Guangyao of having requested it in some indirect manner that was designed to make Su She think it was his own idea.

Well, they were beyond that point now. Far beyond.

"I told you from the beginning that I'd do terrible things for him," Su She said instead of answering the question, turning his face away a little. "And that you'd hate me for it."

"Shows what you know," Jiang Cheng said, even though Su She would probably have been right if it’d come out any other way, and sat down, reminding himself to mind his temper. He’d planned out this conversation long ago, gone through it time and time again in his head; he wouldn’t let Su She distract him. "Don't make judgments for me, you know I hate that. I have some questions for you."

Su She nodded, having apparently expected that. Presumably he thought that that was why he was still alive, and that he'd be executed afterwards - Jiang Cheng had instructed the doctors not to tell him how much time had passed since the temple, and the sick room did not afford him a view outside. Su She had undoubtedly made all sorts of assumptions.

More fool him.

Jiang Cheng was going to save the bitter old bastard whether he liked it or not.

He waited until Su She had turned back to him, wondering what the first question would be, and then he asked it: "What did Jin Zixun do to you?"

Su She flinched. It was a whole-body flinch, grim and miserable and cringing in remembered pain. He hadn't reacted anywhere near that badly when the matter had been raised in the Guanyin Temple, but Jiang Cheng supposed that back then he'd been functioning on adrenaline and spite to defend himself, whereas now, with Jiang Cheng, he had let down some of his guard...

There was a reason Jiang Cheng had started with the worst of it. If he wanted Su She to live, he was going to need to get to him – to really get to him, get through that apathy and despair that was serving as his shield.

"He – he looked down on me," Su She said, trying to recover his equilibrium. He’d been expecting a question about Jin Guangyao, no doubt. "You know how much I hate that. I’ve always hated that. It doesn't matter -"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Jiang Cheng asked pensively, and Su She looked at him, aghast. "We've shared a bed for over a decade by now, and there've been political ties between our sects for only a little while short of that. I've seen how people treat you, accusing your sect of being an inferior copy of the Lan sect, and yourself an inferior copy of Hanguang-jun -"

Su She flinched again, face darkening and body curling up with rage. That had always been the insult he'd hated most, as surefire a trigger for him as it had been calling Jin Guangyao a son of a whore.

" – all that, time and time again, and you just took it. Year after year, you picked restraint and what was better for your sect over revenge, petty or grand. And now you really expect me to believe you cursed Jin Zixun with the Hundred Holes, a hideous curse with a high probability of fatal backlash, simply because he did…what everyone else has done?"

"I was younger then," Su She said stiffly. "My tolerance was lower, I had fewer responsibilities..."

“You were younger still when you were being mistreated at the Lan sect,” Jiang Cheng pointed out, and Su She flinched again. “And as for responsibilities…even back then, you had a brother. A brother you love dearly – and since I haven’t seen him around recently, one who you love dearly enough to send far away when you realized Jin Guangyao was taking you down a path of no return. Where is he, anyway? And how’d you convince Jin Guangyao to allow it?"

"...Dongying. It was far enough away, beyond anyone’s reach…it was where we were going to go after the Burial Mounds. The Sect Leader, I mean; we were going to go there once he had finished his business. I told him I’d send a group of people ahead to make ready for our arrival." Su She swallowed visibly and looked down at his hands, which had clenched into fists. "The others in my sect - the ones that came with me to the Burial Mounds. Was it – did I make it clear..."

"That you'd deceived them as well, intended on using them and then leaving them to die? Oh yes, you left little doubt. It was enough to allow them escape execution, although not the condemnation of the cultivation world." Jiang Cheng watched as Su She exhaled in silent relief. "I took them into my sect."

Su She bowed his head. "I am in your debt."

"I bet you think they hate you," Jiang Cheng said, and smiled thinly when Su She’s head jerked up in surprise - he really had thought that. He was too similar to Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng knew how he thought, because he’d thought the same thing himself, when it had been him. "As I said, you were very clear. Your disciples were smart enough to realize that being led to their 'deaths' was the only way out you could leave them if your plan fell through. They may have come to the Lotus Pier with me for now, but they’ve sworn no oaths. Your precious Moling Su still lives."

Taking those unsworn disciples back to the Jiang sect had been one part stupid loyalty – Jiang Cheng suffered from the same fault as Su She in that regard – and one part cold-blooded political calculation. Whatever the reason behind its invention, and whatever awful use it had been put towards, all the Su sect disciples that Su She had taken to the Burial Mounds knew the ‘wrong’ variant of Vanquishing that locked the spiritual energy of those around them. Should there be another war, or even a small squabble, the implications of that were considerable. Even more interesting, Su She had somehow managed to retain his own spiritual energy while everyone else around him had lost theirs, and if something like that could be expanded to protect an entire sect while crippling another…

Putting it another way, the Sunshot Campaign would have looked very different if they’d had Su She’s technique around.

“Then I am even further in your debt,” Su She said, his voice gone raspy with unvoiced emotion.

“I’ll make you pay it,” Jiang Cheng said shortly. He would, too, no matter how much genuine affection he might have for Su She; Jiang Cheng loved his own sect too much not to seek every advantage he could get them. “Start by actually answering my questions. What did Jin Zixun do to you?”

“But why does it matter?” Su She cried out, the emotion tearing out of him as if by force, the words coming in a sudden torrent. “Ask me about the times I tried to kill your shixiong that you still love, about the times I aided the Sect Leader in wrongdoing – all the crimes he committed, he had me help him! My hands are as covered in blood as his! Ask me about those, instead!”

“All right,” Jiang Cheng said, fighting to keep his temper under control. “Did you help him kill Jin Rusong?”

Su She faltered, as Jiang Cheng had known he would. It was a question that anyone else in the world could ask with justice, given Su She’s mastery of the transportation talisman that could let him be placed at the scene of any crime…any person, that was, except for Jiang Cheng. He was the only one who knew for a fact that Su She hadn’t been involved with that particular murder – because Jiang Cheng himself was Su She’s alibi.

They’d been playing the game that night.

Jin Guangyao had been especially rough with them, demanding more out of them than he usually did. As always, they’d tried their best to live up to his requests, even to the point of causing each other serious pain by going too quickly, but it hadn’t worked – he’d eventually given up on them, quite visibly, his disappointed expression making them both feel like the lowest scum of the earth. He’d sighed, rubbing his forehead, and said that he’d step out to get them some water so that they could refresh themselves and try again.

Word of the ‘attack’ had come not long thereafter.

Su She had rushed out immediately, terrified that Jin Guangyao would also be attacked; Jiang Cheng, dressed up like a whore, had needed to take the additional ke or so to clean himself up first, and in so doing ensured that he wasn’t there in time to help fight off the ‘perpetrators’. He’d arrived just in time to be a witness, instead, to see Jin Guangyao clutching Jin Rusong’s body in his arms, Su She pulling his sword from the body of some nameless minion on the ground, an expression of untold horror on his face. In retrospect, that meant he’d arrived just in time to be able to put the Jiang sect’s name on the line in Jin Guangyao’s defense, saying bluntly to anyone that would listen that Jin Guangyao had been in a meeting with him just before – which was probably part of the plan.

Just in time to feel terribly guilty for not having done more, too. Jin Guangyao had taken full advantage of that guilt, later, to extract promises both political and personal.

“…not that one, no,” Su She admitted, grimacing. “He didn’t tell me about that until – until it’d happened. He didn’t trust me to act well enough, if I knew in advance.”

Didn’t trust him not to get queasy over murdering a child that he rather liked, no doubt, or maybe just to accidentally let it slip to Jiang Cheng. Maybe Jin Guangyao had known, a little, of what was going on behind his back – vindictively, Jiang Cheng almost hoped that he did.

“Instigating death of his wife, then?” he asked flatly. He’d heard the whole story by now, knew that she’d committed suicide…but knew, too, what Jin Guangyao had done to her just before.

“What? I wasn’t even there.”

Jiang Cheng arched his eyebrows meaningfully, and Su She glared at him, getting the point he was making.

“I’m just going through the crimes in the order of wretchedness,” Jiang Cheng lied. “An innocent child, his own wife…did you help him kill his father?”

That one he actually didn’t know the answer to.

“No,” Su She said. “That was – he had Xue Yang, back then, for all that. He didn’t need me.”

That made sense.

“Well then, what about Chifeng-zun?” Jiang Cheng asked, expecting another negative response, but in that case Su She nodded. “Really? How?”

“The Song of Clarity,” Su She said. “The Sect Leader used it, and it was his idea. He was the one who found the Song of Turmoil in the first place. But…the mixing…”

Jiang Cheng understood at once. Jin Guangyao was utterly brilliant, undeniably so; he was well-trained in music, had a near-perfect memory, and had copied techniques by the dozen, figuring out in each case exactly how they worked from a single demonstration – naturally he could come up with the idea of mixing the two. But the Lan sect’s song-spells were notoriously tricky; without the Lan sect’s famed self-control to guide them, it was very easy for them to go astray and become little more than noise, and that was when you were trying your best to follow them as faithfully as possible.

Adjusting one of their secret songs wasn’t something just any cultivator could do. Even the infamous stealer of techniques couldn’t necessarily guarantee a good result, even if someone explained to him in detail how the original song worked the way Lan Xichen had. Adjusting a song like that required a thorough grounding in Lan sect techniques, a familiarity with them from the bottom up, years of training…

Such as Su She had, for instance.

“Did you also help him with the modification of Vanquishing, the one that locked people’s cultivation away when we were all on the Burial Mounds?” Jiang Cheng asked, political interest temporarily overcoming personal motivations, and was pleased when Su She nodded. “You’re really very good, aren’t you?”

“Best in my class,” Su She said grimly, “if only you do not count Hanguang-jun.”

Jiang Cheng made a face. He’d been the same, he supposed, only with Wei Wuxian – except he’d been the sect heir, and Wei Wuxian the outsider, and everyone had known it.

“Then why not him?” he asked, and Su She frowned at him, confused. “Why not just curse Hanguang-jun? You could have used the Hundred Holes on him.”

Su She opened his mouth, then stopped. It was as if the thought had never occurred to him.

“It wouldn’t have worked anyway,” he said belatedly, trying to excuse his own lack of malice as if it were an embarrassment. “It – his cultivation is higher than mine. The curse would have bounced off…”

“But not without doing some serious damage first,” Jiang Cheng pointed out. “You could have ruined his beauty, made him a mockery throughout the cultivation world – at the cost of your life, yes, but you risked that in either case. You’ve hated Lan Wangji for years, resented him for years, but before he started investigating the things that could hurt Jin Guangyao, you never took any action against him. You did nothing to him. Nothing.”

Su She kept trying to speak, but his lips moved without sound; he had nothing to say.

“Now tell me: what did Jin Zixun do?”

Su She cracked.

And then, as Jiang Cheng had expected for a wound that ran so deep, he shattered.

The story was about what Jiang Cheng would have guessed, knowing what he did about Jin Zixun. It was an ugly story, as all such things were, and it explained any number of other strange behaviors or reactions Su She had displayed over the years, things that Jiang Cheng had always wondered about. The story also ended up inadvertently confirming at least some of Jiang Cheng’s suspicions – Jin Guangyao hadn’t explicitly ordered Su She to cast the Hundred Holes, no, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved in it; he had rarely needed to act so overtly. He had done to Su She what Jiang Cheng suspected Nie Huaisang had done to the miserable Mo Xuanyu: they’d stood back and watched as their victim sank deeper and deeper into despair, doing nothing to relieve their agony, and when the victim had reached the stage of utter desperation, they had provided them with the rope they could use to hang themselves.

In a manner that was to their own benefit, of course.

There was a grim sort of irony in knowing that Jin Guangyao had been brought down by his own techniques, but Jiang Cheng certainly wasn’t going to be making the mistake of underestimating Nie Huaisang any time soon, no matter how flighty he seemed.

“It’s all right,” Jiang Cheng said, and couldn’t resist crawling into the bed next to Su She and pulling him into his arms. Su She had started sobbing at some point in the process, shoulders shaking his entire body, and he pressed his face into Jiang Cheng’s neck the way he liked to when it was just the two of them. “It’s – well, it’s not really all right, it’s never really all right. But I won’t use it against you, either.”

I won’t be like him. I won’t ask for your life in return for a smile with nothing behind it.

I’ll just ask you to live.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Su She asked, later, when he’d run out tears, the hatred and anger that had been congealed in his chest for years having been spat out like a lump of black blood. Hate and anger and love, overwhelming, terrible, poisonous love; he had adored Jin Guangyao unreasonably, elevated him in his mind to the status of a god, but he was too clever not to know, in his heart of hearts, that his affections were not returned.

He’d denied the fact of it to himself for years and years…but he’d known.

He’d loved Jin Guangyao all the same.

He still loved him, loved him enough to want to die for him, but as Jiang Cheng had hoped, revisiting that ancient wound had reminded him, at some point in that wave of tears, that he wanted to live, too. Su She was an innately selfish being the way most people were, with a healthy self-preservation instinct; by breaking and resetting the injury that had dug most deeply, he had remembered that he could heal.

As for his terrible love for Jin Guangyao…it would take more time. But in the end that, too, was something that could heal.

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked. “What will I do?”

“I haven’t actually worked that part out,” Jiang Cheng said, wiping his own face. At some point in the evening he’d ended up talking about Wei Wuxian, because of course he had. He was always talking about Wei Wuxian, and never to him, and that was part of the problem, he supposed. He’d told Su She all the things he’d never before dared to tell anyone: what had really happened during his captivity in the Wen sect, the ‘visit’ to Baosan Sanren’s mountain that had been no such thing…even his stupid decision to get captured in Wei Wuxian’s place in the first instance.

He’d known that Su She, who had all the same insecurities he did and more, would understand without needing to be told why he’d done it, the real reasons, the good and the bad. He simply knew, at once and without explanation, that Jiang Cheng’s sacrifice had originated from not just love for Wei Wuxian, the way Wei Wuxian’s sacrifice of his golden core for him had been, but also from his own self-hatred, his self-doubt. It had come from his conviction that Wei Wuxian could do everything better than he would – that he’d be able to get revenge, where Jiang Cheng would only fail and let everyone down.

Su She understood. He understood, too, why Jiang Cheng’s secret motivation meant that the trade they had unwittingly made, sacrifice for sacrifice, wasn’t equal, would never be equal. Even if Wei Wuxian one day found out the truth of what Jiang Cheng had done for him, it wasn’t the same. Wei Wuxian was simply better than Jiang Cheng in every way, even when it came to loving one’s brother, and knowing that, knowing he was better in that, too, gave rise to resentment, no matter how much Jiang Cheng hated himself for feeling that way.

Jiang Cheng had talked about Jin Guangyao, too.

Su She couldn’t – he still loved him too much, the poison sunk in too deep – but Jiang Cheng had had years to come to terms with it; he could share his story, even if Su She couldn’t do the same. He could tell Su She about how Jin Guangyao had coaxed him into bed that first time, the promises he’d made, explicitly or implicitly. He could tell him about that horrible first experience with the game and how it had broken him in some fundamental way, but not as much as going back to Jin Guangyao afterwards with full knowledge of what he was succumbing to had done.

He hadn’t needed to explicitly compare it to the all too similar story Su She had told him for Su She to understand.

Instead, Jiang Cheng had told him about the first time he’d learned that all those beautiful promises were false, and how that had broken him down even more – about how he’d stayed even then, coming back despite it all, because he needed what Jin Guangyao could give him him more than he valued himself.

About how he’d loved Jin Guangyao for all these years, and hated him, too.

How they both had.

(Su She didn’t admit it, on his side, but Jiang Cheng didn’t need him to say it.)

There had been a lot of tears involved, and they’d agreed without saying a word that they were both just going to put the entire conversation out of their minds and forget about it.

“Of course you hadn’t thought about it,” Su She grumbled. “You just decided to harbor a criminal that tried to massacre the entire cultivation world without thinking twice about it.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and pinched him, making him squeak in a frankly hilarious fashion.

“You tried, but didn’t succeed,” he reminded him. “Stupid as it may be, the precedent’s already been set – if the Jin sect can protect Xue Yang on the basis of him being ‘under control’, I can most certainly do the same with you; you didn’t slaughter an entire sect using evil cultivation and then publicly admit to the crime. Anyway Moling’s closer to Yunmeng Jiang than it ever was to Lanling Jin, and Jin Ling certainly isn’t going to fight with me over it. It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“Fine. What are you going to do with me?”

“I’ll think of something,” Jiang Cheng said. “Now go to sleep.”

“I’ve slept for a month, I think I’ve had enough sleep –”

“More than that.”

“More – what do you mean more?! How long have I been asleep?!”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Sect Leader Jiang –”

“What did I say to call me?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Su She snarled, pushed beyond endurance. He looked far better furious than he did sad. “You listen to me –”

Jiang Cheng smiled, and went to sleep instead.

While he didn’t exactly lie, Jiang Cheng certainly didn’t go out of his way to make it known that Su She was alive – no one was asking questions, having already assumed the answer, and the only one in the know, Nie Huaisang, wasn’t about to tell. It made it easier for everyone. Jin Ling was more than happy to shove the entire Moling Su sect and its remaining members over to Jiang Cheng, washing his hands of the whole thing with a great deal of relief, and Jiang Cheng quickly dealt with the few heads poking out above the parapet to see if they could cause trouble, mostly neighboring sects near Moling that thought they might be able to seize some benefits taking advantage of another sect falling apart. There had been one or two protests, faint ones, but he’d ignored them with his usual tyrannical refusal to listen to reason and very quickly it all faded away to nothing.

The Gusu Lan sect, which held a longstanding grudge against Moling Su, might have been able to make more of an impact if they’d decided to kick up a fuss, but Lan Xichen had entered seclusion months ago, following an unfortunate family ceremony in which he’d reportedly forgotten half the words and mixed up the other half, and Lan Wangji, for all his other skills, was no sect leader. A few carefully worded letters to the right people, causing them make noise and run around like headless chickens, and he was completely overwhelmed and distracted.

Lan Qiren could have handled it if he’d put his mind to it, but he’d been out of practice for many years by then. Moreover, Jiang Cheng went to him personally and offered his assistance in helping settle the problems in exchange for looking the other way on some small things; it was a standard sort of arrangement for Great Sects to make with each other, and Lan Qiren agreed at once, even though he’d made clear with no small exasperation that he, at least, knew where at least some of their extra problems had arisen from.

(He’d assumed it had been Jiang Cheng’s way of expressing ire at Lan Wangji over the situation with Wei Wuxian, and, guiltily, Jiang Cheng had let him think that.)

It was a worthwhile trade. A little bit of additional effort on Jiang Cheng’s part meant that no one even bothered to check on the status of Moling Su, and that, in turn, meant Su She could rehabilitate in relative peace, focusing on healing, meditating to replenish his damaged cultivation, meeting with members of his sect in private, even relearning his fighting skills with a brand-new sword.

And – other things, too.

He spent a lot of his time in Jiang Cheng’s bed.

Jiang Cheng would feel bad about it, except he knew for a fact that Wei Wuxian spent even more of his time gracing Lan Wangji’s bed, and what was good enough for one was good enough for the other. Was Lan Wangji the only one allowed to lay claim to a previously dead criminal once reviled by the cultivation world?!

Of course, for the first few months, they didn’t do anything other than sleep.

Jiang Cheng was having a relapse of his old nightmares, the ones from after his family had all died – both times – and Su She had more than enough of his own; they both climbed out of their beds in the morning with black circles around their eyes, Jiang Cheng staggering over to handle his sect business while Su She painfully retaught his now-scarred hand how to wield a sword. Even when they did have enough energy to try something out, they kept running into roadblocks, with each posture and sudden move a reminder of the game they used to play, and who they used to play it with.

Even Jiang Cheng, who swore to himself that he didn’t miss that snake Jin Guangyao at all and pretended as hard as he could that he wasn’t lying, couldn’t help but keep glancing over to the place where Jin Guangyao normally liked to sit and watch them.

“This is ridiculous,” Su She said after one such failed attempt. “You had your issues with him, I know –”

Jiang Cheng gave him a look.

“…all right, maybe we both did. But some things were good with him! It’s not as if we minded him watching! Why are we acting like there’s some fierce ghost about to jump at us at the slightest mistake?”

“If I knew, I’d have told you,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. Jin Ling had come by for a brief visit, flanked by those pests from the Lan sect; Jiang Cheng had overheard them complaining about how enthusiastic the nightly efforts in Lan Wangji’s jingshi were, and he’d gotten jealous. “If you have any suggestions, rather than complaints, I’m willing to listen.”

“Fine,” Su She huffed, and got up, walking over to grab something from a drawer not far from the bed. When he brought it back, it was…

“Make-up?”

“Putting everything else aside, I always liked it when your lips left color on my cock,” Su She said bluntly, and Jiang Cheng felt a sudden spark of interest burning deep in his belly, his own cock suddenly starting to get invested in the proceedings. “Let me put it on for you.”

They’d never done that before. The process of getting prepared was similar enough to the game to get Jiang Cheng’s well-trained body interested, but at the same time it was different enough to avoid the worst pits hidden in their memories. Jiang Cheng could sit back and let Su She do his make-up – he did it poorly, but that was understandable. It was his first time, something Jiang Cheng made a bad joke about, making Su She make a mean comment in return, the way they usually conversed, and that was good, too. Then, after that, he told Su She where to go to find the sort of clothing he’d gotten accustomed to, and Su She helped Jiang Cheng dress up in that, too.

“Oh,” Su She said when they were done, settling back on his heels and staring at him. “Oh, that’s – he was right about that much, you know. You really are glorious like this.”

Jiang Cheng flushed. He’d always liked being told nice things.

He’d always liked being pretty.

“You know, I always wanted to…” Su She swallowed. “Can I do something different?”

“Go ahead,” Jiang Cheng said, and Su She reached out and kissed him. Kissed him not just once but many times, then pushed him down and worshipped his body as if Jiang Cheng were a goddess, rather than a whore.

“You can wear better now,” he whispered against the crease of Jiang Cheng’s thigh. “We can buy something new, something fine – I never liked these cheap fabrics, anyway. Why should you be uncomfortable..?”

Jiang Cheng grabbed him by the hair. “Stop talking and suck me,” he commanded, his voice a little shaky from the sheer amount of time Su She had been teasing him. “No more delays.”

“Whatever you want, Jiang-furen.”

Jiang Cheng came down Su She’s throat, then ordered him to fuck him like he meant it. They ended up going at it twice more that night, and once again in the morning – it was the best of both worlds, all the parts of the game that Jiang Cheng had liked, the feeling of being pretty and the compliments and the winning. Even the humiliating feeling of being seen, of being liked when he looked like that, of being told he liked it…Su She had a mean side to him, just the same as Jiang Cheng did, only unlike Jin Guangyao’s little cruelties, Su She’s mean side really did feel like part of the game.

They were both on the same side, Jiang Cheng reminded himself. For real, this time.

They didn’t bother with the game every time, of course. Sometimes they did other things, played other games, tried out new things…once, when Su She had had a particularly bad week, he’d asked for the first time with red face and eyes averted if they could do something that he’d only ever done with Jin Guangyao before.

Jiang Cheng thought back to their old conversation – he likes what we don’t, and makes us need it – and tentatively agreed, although he thought hard about it first and made Su She agree to all sorts of things in advance, secret signs and signals to let on if he ever stopped enjoying it. Jiang Cheng had learned to like the sorts of things Jin Guangyao did with him, as long as he didn’t go too far, and had even (apparently) grown to like them independently of Jin Guangyao, but he still remembered how much shame had been wrapped up in the game at the beginning. He remembered how Jin Guangyao had taken advantage of that shame for his own pleasure, and he wasn’t about to do the same.

Su She’s game, it turned out, was very different from Jiang Cheng’s own, although that wasn’t actually a surprise given their different backgrounds. In the past Su She had revealed only that Jin Guangyao liked it when he treated him like a father; the truth, it turned out, was a little more complicated than that. Like Jiang Cheng, Su She had issues with figures of authority, particularly ones taking the paternal role, but unlike Jiang Cheng, who had only ever felt inferior in his father’s love rather than wholly lacking in it, Su She doubted it entirely – it was impossible to put a finger on exactly why men liked what they did, but once he learned about the details of Su She’s game, Jiang Cheng certainly had his suspicions.

As it turned out, the game Jin Guangyao had devised for Su She involved him retreated back into a state that mimicked childhood, putting down all the defenses of spite and anger and bitterness that he had surrounded himself with over all the years and going back to the good child the Lan sect had once raised, the one who wanted nothing more than to be taken care of and watched over. Unlike Jiang Cheng, who enjoyed praise and abhorred any hint of disapproval no matter how small, Su She preferred a firmer hand, the type of stern censure that showed concern and interest, that attention was being paid to what he had done – he wept bitterly when he was punished, but he never indicated any desire to stop, and afterwards he seemed lighter, as if the experience had been cathartic.

It worked surprisingly well for Jiang Cheng, too. He’d never been good with comforting people, his experience with Jin Ling showing him once and for all that the only means of pampering he knew was to buy his loved ones things and hope they could figure out his affection through his actions, but that was fine, since Su She recoiled from any sort of too obvious affection anyway, finding it fake. Jiang Cheng found that he liked taking Su She over his knee, using the opportunity to scold him about this and that; he liked even more the way Su She glowed every time Jiang Cheng told him how stupid a particular idea had been, or how ridiculous he was for making a particular move, how he’d better not do it again, because Su She got it, he knew that when Jiang Cheng said “You did it wrong” he meant “I saw what you did”, meant “I saw you”.

And, yes, he took Su She to bed during it, too, because that was part of what Jin Guangyao had taught them to enjoy, the games he’d trapped them both in, the games that they’d both loved and hated. But he didn’t make sex a condition of the game, didn’t make Su She beg for him past the point of pleasure and into desperation; he tried, as much as possible, to show Su She that his care, however harsh, was unstinting and unequivocal.

(Su She had a bit of a breakdown at one point over that, shutting himself into his room and refusing to come out for nearly a week. He would never not love Jin Guangyao, but somewhere along the line he had come to begrudgingly accept that Jiang Cheng was right that Jin Guangyao hadn’t had to be as cruel about it as he had been.)

Little by little, they started rebuilding.

“It’s all going to come apart when someone finds out about me,” Su She said gloomily late one evening when it was raining. It had been a little over a year since the Guanyin Temple; he was almost entirely healed, albeit more heavily scarred, and he had a new tendency towards aches and pains during storms. He was doing some paperwork, having resumed the duties as the sect leader of Moling Su, which wasn’t as hard as it might have been – he’d spent so much of his time running around doing Jin Guangyao’s dirty work that his sect was quite accustomed to him managing their affairs from a distance. “Wei Wuxian is going to look at you and say, ‘How can you be with the person who ruined your sister’s life’ –”

“Jin Zixun ruined my sister’s life,” Jiang Cheng said, jabbing at a target with Zidian with more force than it really needed for a round of late evening training. Supposedly there was no actual additional benefit to cultivating with Zidian while there was lightning outside, but he’d always felt it gave him an extra boost. “Him through his unwarranted accusations and his choice to act rashly upon them, and Wei Wuxian, too, by taking out a weapon he couldn’t control. You pushed a rock, you didn’t mean to start an avalanche.”

“You only say that because you’re biased in my favor.”

“Well, yes, of course,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “I’m completely and obviously partial when it comes to my people. So what? Is that supposed to be a flaw?”

Su She frowned. “I’m…fairly sure it’s supposed to be, yes?”

“Fine. Let me clarify: am I supposed to care?”

Su She snorted.

Jiang Cheng ignored him. If he could forgive Wei Wuxian for everything he’d done, then he could forgive Su She – that was his prerogative, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought.

“I’m amazed no one has figured it out yet,” Su She remarked, then added snidely, “Though I suppose your nephew has been very busy.”

Cleaning up Lanling Jin was three jobs in one, and Jiang Cheng was doing at least one and a half of them. He had no idea how he would have managed it without Su She, who it turned out had a memory nearly as pristine as Jin Guangyao’s when it came to gossip and grudges. To Jiang Cheng’s surprise, that turned out to be essential; knowing that some ancient pointless feud was the actual problem behind some ridiculous bit of nonsense was absolutely critical in figuring out how to defuse it – it was just as difficult a type of investigative work as night-hunting, only they couldn’t just default to ‘exterminate’ when ‘liberate’ or ‘suppress’ didn’t work.

Also, Jiang Cheng had at one point told Jin Ling right to his face that he had a lover, that Jin Ling would probably disapprove, and that Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to care when he did – in the sense that he would, of course, he’d be horribly hurt and upset and disappointed when Jin Ling invariably said he didn’t like it, but he probably wouldn’t immediately break it off on Jin Ling’s say-so. Jin Ling had, in a rather mature manner, told him that he was happy for him and also that he would like to hear exactly no details about it whatsoever.

Even when Jiang Cheng had emphasized the ‘you’re really not going to approve’ bit, Jin Ling had been very insistent, saying that he knew that he was going to eat his words later and wish that he’d done differently so that he could stop it earlier, but also that he just didn’t have the emotional capacity to spare any attention to being upset about other people’s personal affairs right now. As long as Jiang Cheng was happier with his lover than without, and it was pretty obvious that he was, then as far as Jin Ling was concerned Jiang Cheng was entitled to whatever horrible nasty coping mechanism he wanted.

Jiang Cheng had decided to take that as implicit approval.

(Besides, “horrible nasty little coping mechanism” was a description that applied surprisingly well to Su She.)

“Life is complicated, and people have in fact been very busy,” Jiang Cheng said dismissively. “Also, I think Nie Huaisang has taken to throwing Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun at all the problems that have built up in the cultivation world over the past decade as a means of distracting them, and that works very well to distract everyone else.”

Su She’s lips twisted – he still didn’t like Nie Huaisang, blamed him for everything that had gone wrong even though it was mostly Jin Guangyao that was really to blame, and Jiang Cheng didn’t fault him for it one bit – but he nodded begrudgingly.

“I just feel like someone is going to find out, and soon,” he said. “I don’t know. It’s not like I mind being your dirty little secret –”

It’d turned out that they were both quite into that, actually.

“– but it’s going to happen eventually, and the anticipation is starting to get to me. I don’t like it.”

“Stop thinking about it,” Jiang Cheng suggested, and retracted Zidian into a ring; it was pretty clear he wasn’t going to get anything productive done tonight. “Come to bed.”

“That’s not actually a solution for anything,” Su She complained, but he put down his brush and came over to the porch where Jiang Cheng had been training, turning his face up for a kiss. “You can’t just – mm –”

Jiang Cheng really enjoyed shutting him up.

He enjoyed it right up until Su She’s crow’s mouth came to bite them both, someone throwing open the door to Jiang Cheng’s private courtyard and walking right in on them.

“What the fuck,” Jiang Cheng said, tearing his face away and turning to look at the interloper even as Su She froze in his arms. “What do you think you’re doing –”

His words died on his lips.

Lan Xichen, pale and gaunt and sodden with the wet as if he’d flown all the way to the Lotus Pier from the Cloud Recesses in the middle of a storm, stared at them expressionlessly.

He was holding a glowing sword in his hand – a Lan sect sword, but not Shuoyue, another one. There was a talisman on it, the sort that could be used to track someone’s location using their spiritual weapon as long as that person was alive and healthy, the talisman resonating between the spiritual energy in the sword and the spiritual energy in the living cultivator’s golden core. Jiang Cheng had unsuccessfully tried to use one to find Wei Wuxian, and only far later did he understand the reason why he’d failed.

The talisman was making the sword acting as a compass, and it pointed straight at Su She.

“I think,” Lan Xichen said, “that we need to talk.”

[monorayjak]

Magic in Media: House Telvanni

House Telvanni is one of the Great Houses of Morrowind, filled with high ranking mages, powerful conjurers, wise alchemists, and unstoppable researchers.

The Telvanni identity, in Magic's colors, begins as many would expect it to: Blue-Black. Telvanni mages are intelligent researches who value knowledge and power above all else. They see little reason to value people, places, or things that lie out of their sphere of influence and contact; the only exception being when they desire one of them for research purposes or to expand their power and/or holdings. The Telvanni do not consider morals for the most part, choosing not what is best for a group, but what is best for themselves; this inclination alone is enough to turn them away from white. But in addition to the lack of morals, they also practice slavery on anyone and everyone they can manage, the most common being Argonians or Khajiit. This, mixed with the Telvanni's largely lax organization system absolutely pulls them away from white. The use of slavery also pulls them away, to a lesser degree, from red. Red's core value is freedom. While the Telvanni are certainly free to do whatever they please, very few would actually call them "lovers of freedom" in any sense. In addition, their own lack of emotions in their life (not to say they don't have them mind you, just that they don't show them) pulls them even farther away. And while they may have little regard to organization in the minute, they deeply keep their society organized by strict hierarchies with defined ranks and "do and don't"-s of their hierarchy. In other words, the members themselves may not truly value organization, the House itself does.

So, the Talvanni are blue, they are black, they aren't red, and they aren't white. You may suspect the lack of support from red and white mean green has little chance to show in the Telvanni. Interestingly, you couldn't be further from the truth. The Telvanni value tradition and take consideration with every bit of experiment and research they take upon themselves. They use natural elements to house themselves, using their mastery of magic to shape and accelerate their growth. They maintain absolute knowledge that what they do has impacts on the world around them, their reasoning for doing this may be entirely black (turns out if the area around you becomes uninhabitable, you tend to lose the land all together because no one can use it), but the methods to maintain it are pure green through and through. They study the natural world just as much as they study the theoretical and arcane. And to add the final kick, they believe in a care value of green: The strong rule. Well, in their case its more along the lines of "The Cunning and Smart rule," but its the same basis. They say that if someone steals something from someone, the thief obviously deserves it more; if a person is killed to advance the killer's rank, the killer is more worthy of the rank in general. The strong rise, and the weak fall. Most interestingly, this believe seeps into every part of the Telvanni culture, including their use of slaves. If slaves manage to escape and can't be found by hunters or hired professionals, that slave deserves to be free. If a slave kills their master, the slave deserves the title of master more. Yes, everyone can ascend ranks in the Telvanni, even those bought and sold like products. The strong and the cunning make the rules, and when someone bests them, the victor gets to redefine the rules.

So, in the final verdict, the Telvanni are Sultai.

[shisui-uchiha-anon]

“I know you. You aren’t this terrible person people see you as and made you become. There’s still some light within you. I see it…”

"Is that supposed to be a joke? Because I don't see me laughing" Shisui answers taking down his Akatsuki cloak. His infiltration mission was over. The Akatsuki were gone last one standing fell. Shisui had all the data inside the scroll that he handed over to Orochimaru. Once the cloak was off that left only a bandage over his head to be removed. A perfect deception to fool everyone that he is missing it, the eye. Shisui was that familiar face that made even Itachi lower his guard. Akatsuki maybe got rid of one snake but they sure didn't hope to get another one who had a boyish face of Uchiha Shisui.

A light inside him? Sannin was not wrong, there is a thing with Orochimaru he is almost never wrong. There is a light deep inside of a cruel cold heart and dismissive behavior. A child that is locked deep within him. A child who loved Konoha who loved his parents, his lover, and his friends who respected the elders. But one by one those things were taken from him at a young age. Elders who should stand for the good betrayed him. So he choked the light to survive and he did survive.

"I have detailed report as you predicted all died in a way you said they would. A detailed report along with their secrets" Shisui extended his naked arm to a small white snake with red eyes, a small creature slithered over his warm bare arm ending up wrapped around his neck, nuzzling Uchiha's cheek as if that was the most natural thing in the whole world. Poison? Shisui has no need to fear it. Bearing the curse mark makes him immune to all poisons.

"Sasuke killed Itachi, or Itachi made it look like that. In the end, Itachi just gave in to him" The light in Shisui wanted to rush in and help Itachi, but the man who was now Shisui denied it. Eyes closed, the heart of stone, Itachi was nothing to him now. "Sasuke took his body and took out his eyes. Deidara fell to Sasuke as well, his obsession to kill Uchiha was his downfall. Hidan died as he lived stupidly cut in pieces like a fish. Kisame the tuna breath killed himself. Kakuzu fought well he almost got them but they figured out his secret. Masked man hilled Konan. Or should I say Obito. A puppeteer of this show yet just a puppet himself for Madara."

Shisui waited to hear what Orochimaru has to say to all that? Also, he waited to hear him explain that light thing he started. "So I am still waiting to hear a punch line of that light in me threatening to blind all with goodness?"

[capitalismwasamistake]

It's Tuesday, which means a new chapter for Catch A Taste Of Humanity! A Hannibal/The Sandman Crossover fic featuring The Corinthian/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter for your reading pleasure.

Canon-Compliant for both shows, Post-Canon for Hannibal, Mid-Canon for The Sandman (specifically that part of canon where Dream's in the fishbowl and the Corinthian is living his best life). With Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter.

In this juicy chapter Will gets dressed up and joins the Corinthian for dinner. Whatever could they talk about for 3.7 thousand words???

Story updates every Tuesday!

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo having a brutal rivalry with your son.

You'd promise your now eighteen year old, "Sen, your father and I didn't part on bad terms. It would be nice if the two of you could get along."

Sentaro would scoff, crossing his arms and leaning in the kitchen doorway. "Strongest sorcerer in the world and couldn't protect his wife?" You touch a hand to the large burn mark on your chest. Sen watches the movement and shakes his head. "Like I could ever get along with a guy like that."

~

Imagine your son is the splitting image of his father, save for how his hair grows in black, then fades to white when it grows past the roots.

"You have my pretty face, but I don't know where you got such a shit attitude." Sen would be face to face with his dad while he was on business at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Satoru would look him up and down. "I know for a fact that your mom never taught you that."

Sen's face would contort into a look of disgust. "Don't act like you know her."

"I know her in ways no one else ever could--"

Uncle Suguru would be forced to intervene before everyone got to find out what happens when two hollow purples collide.

~

Imagine Satoru still loves you - he never stopped, of course - and visits you at the house while your son is on a mission.

"You miss me, don't you, mama?" he'd murmur in your ear while he has you crowded up against the living room wall. "You have a little mini me running around, so I bet you think about me all the time, huh?"

He'd be right of course, but life was so hard for you and your son after the divorce that you're reluctant to start up anything again. You'd always love Satoru, but you hadn't seen enough of him to know if he'd changed since you were last together. That said, it's hard to remain rational when the love of your life presses his lips to yours.

You won't get enough time to consider, however, since your ex will have been ripped away from you and sent flying through the opposite wall. Your son, just as tall as his dad, will be standing protectively in front of you, fists clenched tight.

Sen wouldn't look at you when you gently touch his broad back in an attempt to calm him down.

"Don't get too close, mom," he'd say with gritted teeth. "The old man's about to learn he's not the strongest any more."

~

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[black-quadrant]

sometimes all you need is one passionate person who goes berserk for your work to keep you creating

[raylangivins]

i am Locked In.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ .