#and is the opposite method to keep fandom alive

[triptychgrip]

So sorry to ask @arom-antix but do you think you (or someone else, if you see this first) could send me screenshots of thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai’s post? I am now blocked, so can’t see their analysis for myself 🙃🙃🙃

The topic of plagiarism reminds me of something I’d refrained from including in my earlier post which, in my opinion, is a tendency as damaging to fandom as their trying to dictate how others enjoy the source media: their preference for competition over fostering community

…even when they have posted very openly about wanting to feel like a more rooted part of the fandom.

This actually gets at something you already touched upon @arom-antix and I love how you framed it:

“And considering Samurai believes their interpretations are the most correct according to canon and that anyone who doesn't share those views is illiterate (I can't find that screenshot rn, you're free to doubt my claim), shouldn't it be good that Vic came to the same conclusions? Doesn't that mean that Samurai's analysis is being backed up and that Vic is not illiterate? But Vic's analysis gained more traction and that's apparently enough to accuse the fandom of being a waste of time and energy (Fig. 22).”

I’ll mention a similarly telling example of the focus on traction/ the tendency towards competition: thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai made a post during the past summer, I believe that (paraphrasing) said something to the effect of: “when you plan to post something only to discover that someone has already gone ahead and posted nearly the exact same thing, it makes you wonder why you even bother, sometimes”

I’ll be honest, I found this line of thinking very bizarre, and even more bizarre to readily admit.

Because if you profess to care so much about canon compliance while also feeling that nobody is capable of presenting the kind of intellectually based discourse you really want to see more of, why is someone else posting about something you share interpretations around such a bad thing?

Might it be because they did it first?

I think this honestly goes beyond “well I spent a lot of time developing the post and now that’s all a waste”. Because here’s the thing: it doesn’t have to be a waste, depending on your attitude.

Shouldn’t you feel happy that someone else is analyzing things the way you do? Can’t that be a platform to foster a connection and maybe even a friendship (i.e. “I noticed your analysis really resonates with my own headcanons, would you be open to talking about them?”)?

Now, maybe they in fact did reach out to that person via DM’s or a non-public forum, but given the things I’ve already seen people bring up, I highly doubt they did. Because as has become increasingly clear to me, their main drive seems to be to preference appearing relevant over cultivating connection.

And before I get accused of speaking in absolutes, I’ll say that it’s likely true that thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai was indeed genuine on the occasions they’ve said they want more fandom friends/community.

However, it has always read to me that those statements were extremely conditional, and left many things unspoken like: “I want community, as long as I am perceived as the most relevant. Community, but only if I am the foremost authority figure, the person who posts first, and comes out looking like I have the most unique thing to say.”

(If you can’t already tell, I have some long-harbored frustration around this…mostly due to my making excuses for them for far too long.)

I remember a post they made shortly before going on a social media hiatus in which they mentioned (again, paraphrasing) feeling like they are the antipode of fun.

I can’t remember the exact wording, but it was essentially a very vulnerable post about feeling like the odd one out in the fandom, and a general struggle to make friends. I believe I had commented to them with something sympathetic — if anyone who they haven’t blocked wants to look this up and verify, feel free.

But what I wish I would have added had I been more brave is that a really valuable opportunity for making friends could be to engage in conversations with people from a place of curiosity. It’s like you’ve said so well already, @arom-antix : come at things not from a desire to prove anyone wrong — nor in order to come out looking like you’re the only one with something worth saying — but because you genuinely value the opportunity to connect with others around something you’re both so passionate about

Hey, just wanted to reach out to say that I found you pointing out and calling this person was really great and you shouldn't have apologized. It was incredibly true what you said, and to be honest it seems out of touch with the reality of a great deal of the japanese fandom, the nuances and their culture. Also, it was as you pointed out, extreme and may I say rude. I want to mention too that the way it was written, as if entitled of the knowledge and the 'explanation' made it all worse in context of the 'fucked up'. The original poster always gets away by using the 'well-written academic'' statement of their 'metas' as an excuse to do or say and make everyone else agree and if not, uses victim narrative and discourses exactly selecting wording for people to agree on it or feel bad.

I don't know if they tagging you in the way they did made you reblog and apologizing/backing up, but no one thought bad about you pointing it out. On the contrary, a lot of people had been bullied and discriminated by this person when they called them out/disagreed going onto lenghts of sending their friends to harass people, and the other persons can't even defend themselves because they are effectively blocked. To quite a few people in the fandom has been done, even accusing them as 'acephobes' (when they're not) or even Nazis by spreading lies. So yeah, I just wanted to say that. I think you were right to call them out publicly.

Thank you very much for this ask. To be completely honest I agree with everything you said here and don't actually feel bad about pointing anything out. I mainly apologised because I didn't want any potentially poor phrasing from my side to cause unnecessary hostility and because I myself have gripes with this person's behaviour but didn't want to cause a scene.

My honest opinion is that they have a serious issue with taking accountability for their own mistakes and highly overestimate their own intellect. If you're reading this, @thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai, sorry if I seem harsh, but it's true. I saw your post lamenting how you're the only academic meta writer / fan in the fandom and I didn't interact then because I honestly do not care enough to start that drama but with the information Blonndiec has just given me, I think it's necessary that someone calls you out.

You're not an academic. You're not beyond the mental capabilities of other fans. You're actually incredibly childish in your metas and analyses and I am not kidding when I say that I was halfheartedly writing essays more academic than every analysis I've seen from you when I was barely a teenager. I don't know how old you are and I frankly don't care. You're not as clever as you think you are.

Also, don't think I didn't notice that you didn't reblog my correction (link here to my correction and here to their "response" for those who didn't see that exchange) of your post so that you could control what your followers saw of the exchange. You're the opposite of an academic. You control information to tailor the narrative, you don't cite your sources properly if at all, you don't format your posts in anything close to how an academic analysis would be, you make unbased claims, you reference posts and canon material without in any way indicating where that information is from, you reference your own (equally unacademic) metas and your conclusions from them without indicating what post it's from or that it's your own theory this new one is based on and instead present it as a common fact, and I could go on and on and on. Your posts are also riddled with logical fallacies and you talk in absolutes and opinions when there's no canon basis to claim such things. I'm sorry, but that's not academic in the slightest.

To be clear, you don't have to be an academic to post on the Internet. You don't have to be anything at all. You could up front be a genuine idiot with no remorse and that's fine. But when you claim to be an academic and also put down the rest of the fandom for not being on your level, you have to be able to back that up. It'd still make you sound like a prick but at least your arrogance would have a basis. It currently does not.

I haven't personally seen the discussions that Blonndiec is referencing and I'm not going to claim anything definitive (because that would be unacademic of me, take notes) but if what they're saying is true and did happen as described, which I have empirical, if anecdotal, evidence to believe could very well be (a friend of mine has personally been blocked by you after they criticised you without actually mentioning your name which I of course can't prove is the reason for the block but the timing is awfully convenient), you should know that you should be ashamed of yourself.

If there's context missing, feel free to enlighten me and call out any incorrect accusations. You have every right to defend yourself. However, I encourage you to cite your sources since you're such an academic. If you don't, then it's just your word against Blonndiec and anyone else who might comment's word and that doesn't prove anything. Don't misunderstand, acephobia and nazi rhetoric should absolutely be called out but only if it's actually happening. False accusations can ruin lives. I hope you know that.

I'm not a fan of calling people out publicly and, again, thank you for this ask, Blonndiec. But considering many of the issues I've personally seen and those I've been informed of by second hand sources were posted publically, I don't really feel bad about calling this out. I could do a full breakdown of just the insulting "academic" comments alone and how there's no academia to be found in said academic metas and, Samurai, if you give me reason to, I will show exactly what I mean point by point (and academically just to give you an example of even low level academia).

If you respond to this, do it in a reblog. That's what a real academic would do. If I'm wrong and you can prove it, you'd have no reason to not show my post in your rebuttal. If I'm right, you'd have every reason to be upfront about your mistakes and how you intend to rectify them. There's nothing wrong with being wrong but there's a lot wrong with refusing to admit to it in a way that lets others peer review you (academic thing, look it up) and come to their own conclusions about the situation. That's what you did when you just @'ed me instead of reblogging my response. A true academic wouldn't hide a peer review. You'd know that if you were one.

I swing in many academic spaces and yet that doesn't make me any kind of expert and I don't claim to be one because I'm not. But since you want to be one so badly, reblog this with a response and show us all how smart you are. I'm dying to know what your academic take on this is.

[flowingtune]

I don't know if this fandom is still alive but here we go!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Echoes of the Past

a Louisa x Spiros fic

🕵🏻‍♀️ Rating: Teens and up audiences

🕵🏻‍♀️ Word Count: 4k (Chapter 2 of 23)

🕵🏻‍♀️ Tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Reincarnation, Mystery/Crime, murder investigation, Fake Dating, Tension, partners in crime solving, Banter, UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension), Flashbacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Competence Kink, Louisa Darcy (Louisa Durrell Reincarnation), Spiros Halikis (Spiros Halikiopoulos Reincarnation), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Case Fic, Suspense

🕵🏻‍♀️ Summary: Louisa Darcy and Spiros Halikis are two detectives who clash from the moment they’re assigned to a high-profile murder case, their contrasting investigative styles only adding fuel to the fire. But as they dig deeper into the case—and each other—they begin to experience haunting flashes of a past life they can’t remember, but can’t ignore.

🕵🏻‍♀️ Preview below the cut.

The clamor of the London precinct buzzed around Louisa Darcy, but her mind was elsewhere. The crime reports on her desk blurred in her vision as a strange sense of familiarity washed over her. For days now, she had been grappling with these odd flashes—moments where it felt like she wasn’t alone, even when she was. She brushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the notes scattered before her.

This case didn’t sit right. A string of burglaries in wealthy neighborhoods, sure, but something about the way the break-ins had been executed felt far too coordinated. She jotted down another observation in her notebook, ignoring the rain pelting against the window. As much as she liked to work alone, this one felt bigger than the run-of-the-mill cases. But that wasn’t her call to make.

A brisk knock on the door broke her concentration, and in walked Chief Inspector Reynolds. His no-nonsense demeanor was more than enough to pull Louisa back to the present.

“Darcy, we’ve got a case,” Reynolds said, tossing a folder onto her desk. “A string of high-society robberies that’s just become... more complicated. It might be connected to a possible homicide—still getting the details.”

Louisa raised an eyebrow, instantly alert. A murder? That changed everything. She leaned forward, but Reynolds held up a hand.

“There’s more,” he added, clearly not thrilled about the next part. “You’ll be working with someone else on this. Halikis.”

Louisa’s expression hardened. She’d heard the name before—Spiros Halikis—a detective with a reputation as a brash, methodical operator who didn’t care much for playing by the rules. His investigative style was the complete opposite of her own people-focused, empathetic approach. They were bound to clash.

“With all due respect, sir, I work better on my own.”

“I know you do,” Reynolds said, sitting down in the chair opposite her. “But this case is bigger than we initially thought. And you’ll need backup. Halikis has solved some of the toughest cases we’ve had this year. Between the two of you, I expect results.”

Louisa clenched her jaw but nodded, keeping her frustration in check. “Fine.”

Reynolds leaned back, clearly relieved she wasn’t fighting him on this one. “He’ll be here any minute. Get briefed, and I want updates by tomorrow. This one’s got eyes on it from higher up.”

As soon as Reynolds left, Louisa glanced down at the folder he’d dropped on her desk. She skimmed through the case details—the same string of burglaries she’d been looking into, but now, a wealthy financier had been found dead in his mansion. There were no signs of forced entry, no obvious suspects. And yet, something about it reeked of foul play. The robbery and the murder had to be connected.

Her door swung open again, and in walked Spiros Halikis, carrying an air of quiet authority. His dark hair, a little too long for regulation, was damp from the rain outside. His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept the room before settling on her.

“You must be Darcy,” he said, his deep voice tinged with a heavy Greek accent.

Read more on AO3.

[grewlikefancyflowers]

“Wwx kills and tortures” the only ppl he ever tortured was WC WZL and WLJ because why tf would he waste his time torturing random soldiers he gives no fucks about it isn’t practical nor fun or interesting lol he had every right to torture those 3 bc of what they did to him other than that WWX is just like any other soldier during that war, the fact that he was stronger and could defeat more people in less time and with less effort than the rest doesn’t make him immoral it makes him the only reason everyone else came out alive and won the war. Idk who tf came out with the head canon of WWX enjoying torture when literally the three antagonists are the ones who love torture and are portrayed as trash to emphasize the fact that WWX is the opposite of them 🙄

MDZS is a setting where violence as revenge is pretty standard, even condoned, as long as it's proportional. WWX’s actions themselves aren’t necessarily presented as wrong. And I can’t believe I have to say this but this doesn’t mean I am personally cool with torture askjfsdkj some personal/modern standards cannot be applied to a setting that is so far removed from our own.

Here is a neat little quote from XXC - '“Chang CiAn broke one of your fingers in the past. If you sought revenge, you could’ve simply broken one of his fingers as well. If you really took the matter to heart, you could’ve broken two, or even all ten! Even if you had cut off an entire arm of his, things wouldn’t have been like this. Why did you have to kill his entire clan? Don’t tell me that a single finger of yours was equal to more than fifty human lives!”' (Ch.41)

Reminder that XXC is presented as a standard good & noble character. He’s not m*rally gr*y.

WC, etc, had massacred the entirety of LP, including little kids, and thrown WWX into BM, not only leaving him to die but keeping his soul trapped there as well. What WWX did wasn’t disproportionate to what was done to him.

As for WWX’s handling of the Wen armies in the SSC, I think some people would argue that his method of raising the dead to kill their own families is a form of torture, which is a take I guess I don’t necessarily disagree with ?? But I wouldn’t say this method was impractical, I think it has the very useful effect of making WWX’s opponents unwilling to fight back against the corpses of their own family or sect members. It’s brutal and efficient!

Even though what WWX did to them wasn’t necessarily undeserved, and it was undeniably very cool and sexy of him; WWX himself doesn’t feel too great about it. It is referred to* as ‘almost cruel ways of venting his anger’# (Ch.75). And of course, there’s that quote that this fandom seems to take as complete condemnation from WWX that everything he did in his past life was wrong 🙄 - ‘Even when he, himself, thought about it afterward, he felt that he had done a bit too much.’ (Ch.66)

I’ve spoken about this before in this post here - even though WWX is a little meow meow that did nothing wrong, his actions in what he did to WC, WLJ and others during the SSC aren't things that I think we as readers are necessarily supposed to support. Actually ig this is similar to how I think of JZX's death - obviously we're not supposed to support it, but it isn't an objective wrong either.

Something that all the antagonists in MDZS seem to share is this issue of taking their grievances too far, stewing in their own resentment - JGY, XY, JC, even that guy from the Gatecrashing extra. WWX doesn’t go down this path, while ultimately I’d say he doesn’t cross over that line, he does toe pretty close to it.

-

*Actually, I’m rethinking this point. I did consider this to be WWX condemning his own actions as cruel and, more importantly, a way of venting his own grievances, but the full quote is

'In the past, it wasn’t that he couldn’t tell how most of the Wen Sect’s people here were all somewhat scared of him.

They had all heard of the ruthless reputation he had during the Sunshot Campaign, the almost cruel ways of venting his anger that so many talked about. They had seen with their own eyes how he used corpses to kill others as well. In the first few days, Granny Wen’s legs began to shake whenever she saw him. Wen Yuan always hid behind her too. They only started to approach him after some time had passed.'

The references to WWX being ruthless and cruel are framed as other people's words. Whereas what the Wen remnants had seen with their own eyes is described very neutrally. After actually spending some time with WWX, they realise he's not scary at all. So... does WWX think of what he did as cruel, and are we supposed to really think the same? Maybe not.

[bigbadredpanda]

Helloo, would it be a possible interpretation that the ideals and mindset that wwx follows is close to the religion and practice of Taoism?

Hello! That’s a fascinating question and I wish I had more knowledge to delve deeper on the subject but I’m a bit more familiar with the philosophy/spirituality part of Taoism than with its religious practices and rites. As always, anyone is welcome to add to the discussion or correct me if I misconstrue something, this is a vast topic and I’m just an interested layperson!

Xianxia in itself is a literary genre rife with references to Taoism: the pursuit of immortality, the internal alchemy to form a golden core, the Taoist exorcisms to drive out evil spirits, Taoist incantations and talismans, etc... But that does not necessarily make cultivators Taoists.

At the heart of Taoism is the philosophy of espousing harmony with nature, with the self, with the Tao. It’s about simplicity, spontaneity, non-attachment to worldly desires. In the introduction of my copy of the Zhuangzi (庄子), one of the main Taoist texts, the translator chooses the hero Yu the Great to epitomise the “going with the flow instead of fighting against the current” attitude dear to Taoists. Yu the Great is a legendary figure whose father, Kun, was tasked by the emperor Shun to protect the country from floods. Kun built barrages and dykes that held momentarily the waters in check but they ended up bursting, causing a flood even more devastating. The emperor banished Kun and entrusted the son, Yu the Great, with the same mission. Yu the Great succeeded by digging canals to help the course of water and let it flow to the sea. Yu the Great is referenced several times in the Zhuangzi and, interestingly, Wei Wuxian himself takes him as a model when he challenges Lan Qiren in the classroom and sows the seeds of what would become the foundation of his demonic cultivation:

魏无羡道：“横竖有些东西度化无用，何不加以利用？大禹治水亦知，堵为下策，疏为上策。镇压即为堵，岂非下策……”

Wei Wuxian said, “Anyway, there are some things that cannot be liberated so why not make use of them? Yu the Great who controlled the waters knew that building barrages to block was ineffective and dredging canals to reroute was the superior method. Suppression counts as blocking, wouldn’t is also be considered ineffective...” (ch.14)

The carefree and unfettered part of Wei Wuxian’s nature does fit Taoist ideals, you even have the opposition of the more Confucian-oriented Gusu Lan Sect and its rigid abidance with rules and ethics. However, Wei Wuxian is at odds with a key concept of Taoism: the principle of non-action (无为 wuwei). It’s not passivity or laziness, it’s letting nature runs its course, letting things fall into place. Wei Wuxian is very much shown to be assertive, even wilful, when his mind and heart are set on one thing. He does not hesitate to take matters into his own hands and jump into action. That’s especially true of his younger self who would rebel instead of do nothing, his older and wiser self after he is reborn is a bit more circumspect and knows when to speak out and when to hold his peace. Non-action is seen as the guiding principle of an ideal ruler, without the interference of government meddling, the state would (hypothetically) flourish on its own. I’ve seen some good meta on both the Chinese and the English-speaking sides of the fandom that makes good arguments that it’s actually Lan Xichen who personifies best this concept (x). Speaking of other characters from MDZS that parallel Taoist parables, Nie Huaisang reminds of the good-for-nothing tree which is praised by Zhuangzi. Because it bears no fruit, no one tore its branches to strip the fruits from them, because its wood is of poor quality, no carpenters cut it down. It is left alone and it is able to live long.

The Tao Te Ching (道德经, Daodejing) expounds three basic virtues called the Three Treasures (三宝): compassion (慈), frugality (俭) and humility (不敢为天下先, lit. ‘daring not to put oneself before others’ or ‘daring not to be first in the world’). The first two are for sure among Wei Wuxian’s qualities but the last one is more contentious, not because he is arrogant or boastful but because he dares setting himself apart. The following analysis in from a commentary of the Taoist text:

The third treasure, daring not be at the world's front, is the Taoist way to avoid premature death. To be at the world's front is to expose oneself, to render oneself vulnerable to the world's destructive forces, while to remain behind and to be humble is to allow oneself time to fully ripen and bear fruit. This is a treasure whose secret spring is the fear of losing one's life before one's time. This fear of death, out of a love for life, is indeed the key to Taoist wisdom. (Ellen M. Chen) 

Wei Wuxian did not hesitate to ‘expose himself’ by being willing to be the first practitioner of demonic cultivation and in the end his downfall was at the hands of ‘the world’s destructive forces’, warmongering rumours and bloodthirsty hostility. Wei Wuxian is also not subject to fear of death, there are a few quotes that exemplify his carefree, devil-may-care mindset:

使我徒有身后名不如即时一杯酒。

Better have a cup of wine here and now rather than leave behind a posthumous good name. (ch.75 & Wei Wuxian’s CQL character song Qu Jin Chen Qing)

The quotation above comes from A New Account of the Tales of the World (世说新语), a collection of various anecdotes that was compiled in the 5th century, fittingly it’s from the “The Free and Unrestrained” (任诞) section.

生前哪管身后事，浪得几日是几日。

Why care about what happens after death while one is alive? Better live life to the utmost while one can. (ch.16)

I’m not sure if this one is a literary citation or not as I haven’t been able to track down a quote with this exact wording but it was very reminiscent to me to a chapter of the Liezi (列子), another Taoist text, attributes the following thoughts to the hedonist philosopher Yang Zhu:

One hundred years is the limit of a long life. Not one in a thousand ever attains it. Suppose there is one such person. Infancy and feeble old age take almost half of his time. Rest during sleep at night and what is wasted during the waking hours in the daytime take almost half of that. Pain and sickness, sorrow and suffering, death (of relatives) and worry and fear take almost half of the rest. In the ten and some years that is left, I reckon, there is not one moment in which we can be happy, at ease without worry. This being the case, what is life for? What pleasure is there? For beauty and abundance, that is all. For music and sex, that is all. But the desire for beauty and abundance cannot always be satisfied, and music and sex cannot always be enjoyed. Besides, we are prohibited by punishment and exhorted by rewards, pushed by fame and checked by law. We busily strive for the empty praise which is only temporary, and seek extra glory that would come after death. Being alone ourselves, we pay great care to what our ears hear and what our eyes see, and are much concerned with what is right or wrong for our bodies and minds. Thus we lose the great happiness of the present and cannot give ourselves free rein for a single moment. What is the difference between that and many chains and double prisons?

"Men of great antiquity knew that life meant to be temporarily present and death meant to be temporarily away. Therefore they acted as they pleased and did not turn away from what they naturally desired. They would not give up what could amuse their own persons at the time. Therefore they were not exhorted by fame. They roamed as their nature directed and would not be at odds with anything. They did not care for a name after death and therefore punishment never touched them. They took no heed of fame, being ahead or being behind, or the span of life."

The myriad creatures are different in life but the same in death. In life they may be worthy or stupid, honorable or humble. This is where they differ. In death they all stink, rot, disintegrate, and disappear. This is where they are the same. [...] The man of virtue and the sage die; the wicked and the stupid also die. In life they were Yao and Shun [sage-emperors]; in death they are rotten bones. In life they were Jie and Zhou [wicked kings]; in death they are rotten bones. Thus they all became rotten bones just the same. Who knows their difference? Let us enjoy our present life. Why should we worry about what comes after death?” (A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, trans. Wing-tsit Chan)

It’s quite a long extract so I highlighted the most relevant parts that echo Wei Wuxian’s ideas and in particular his motto in life:

是非在己，毁誉由人，得失不论 。

Right and wrong are decided by oneself, praise and condemnation depend on others, gains and losses are insignificant. (ch.75)

This is for me the defining quote of the novel that encapsulates the overarching theme of the story. This sentence is so popular that it’s the go-to quote on Wei Wuxian-related merch and it also features on the cover of the book in simplified Chinese.

We find in the Yang Zhu chapter of the Liezi the same ‘carpe diem’ attitude, the nonchalance about death, the disregard of social conventions and the futility of reputation. Nevertheless, Yang Zhu does not exactly have a place with other Taoist thinkers as he promotes acting in self-interest, a form of ethical egotism that does not take heed of other people’s benefit. The translator from the extract above calls it ‘negative Taoism’. As we are well aware, Wei Wuxian has a much more benevolent and altruistic outlook:

我娘说过的，你要记着别人对你的好，不要去记你对别人的好。人心里不要装那么多东西，这样才会快活自在。

My mom said that you should remember the kindness you received from others and not the kindness you gave. That's the only way to find happiness and be free as the heart can only carry so much. (ch.113)

Wei Wuxian’s life philosophy is about remembering the good you've been granted and keep giving without expecting anything in return. If you let yourself to be fettered by bad memories, if you dwell on the past, negative feelings like anger and envy will take roots in your heart. It takes great courage and integrity to be able to move on from painful experiences without holding grudges and retain the ability to greet the future with a smile.

These themes remind me of the lyrics of the song Enlightenment (悟) from the film Shaolin,《新少林寺》, it’s a moving song that draws a lot from Buddhist influences:

为何君视而不见 规矩定方圆

Why do you look without seeing and let conventions decide the rules?

悟性 悟觉 悟空 心甘情愿

I open my heart, coming to my senses and awakening to emptiness

放下 颠倒梦想 放下云烟

Let go of your confused dreams, let go of the things fleeting like mist

放下 空欲色 放下悬念

Let go of idleness, desire, pleasure, let go of the trouble weighting your heart

多一物 却添了 太多危险

One thing more adds too much danger

少一物 贪嗔痴 会少一点

One thing less and vices will be alleviated [lit. ‘greed, aversion, delusion’, the Three Poisons in Buddhism]

唯有 心无挂碍 成就大愿

Only with a heart without worries can your wishes be accomplished

唯有 心无故 妙不可言

There is no greater marvel than an unburdened heart

This ended up to be such a long-winded and maybe inconclusive answer but to me, Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism, have all deeply shaped Chinese customs, ideas and culture with sometimes no clear boundaries where one begins and the other ends. Wei Wuxian’s ideals, his free-spiritedness and his probity, are reflected in these different schools of thoughts and spiritual currents but there is not a single all-encompassing one that matches him to a tee. In the end, what perhaps defines him best is his name that befits his nature, Wei Ying, the guileless innocence of a child, someone who can cheerfully go through life with a clear conscience and an unburdened heart.

[justmaybee]

Feather Sensitive

Summary: Oh, Yamaguchi’s really done it this time. He should just keep his mouth shut from now on. Unfortunately, that’s the exact opposite of what Hinata wants.

A/N: Y’ello! Another off-brand one, but hopefully a fandom peeps recognize. I haven’t seen Haikyuu in a lil, but I love Yamigoops and this has been 90% done for forever so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Based entirely off the second headcanon here, by @ticklishnonsense — absolutely loved it and you can tell cuz I wrote this ages ago for no other reason than having it written down for myself~

A big thank you to OP for letting me use her work as inspiration!!

———

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

Yamaguchi can’t will his mind into more elaborate thought, because it’s all just suddenly sunken in.

Hinata’s weight, heavy but not uncomfortable, resting snug on his hips. The loose tank top, just slightly too big on him, stolen out of Kageyama’s stuff at some point during one sleepover or another. And that ridiculously giant feather Hinata’s got poised between his fingers, like it’s a quill and Yamaguchi is a trembling, twitchy sheet of parchment about to be marked up.

When had he told Hinata? Why had he told Hinata?

Tsukki had figured it out, years and years ago; during one of their many one-sided tickle fights, Yamaguchi thinks. It’s been used against him for as long as he can remember, stray fluff from down pillows and blankets brushed over his neck or feet to pull a sudden and squeaky laugh. He’s never, ever told Tsukki just how much it really tickled though, and Tsukki never asked.

So why did he have to go and mention this to a person just as skilled and merciless in tickling people—often Yamaguchi people—into boneless puddles of teary, hysterical laughter?

It’s got to be Hinata’s charm. If Tsukishima has his cold, borderline apathetic, poise to lay base for his killer teasing method, then Hinata’s strength comes in his natural curiosity. Wide eyes, a light voice, and an openness that makes Yamaguchi feel like he can talk to him.

This, apparently, is not the case in a topic involving feathers. Because Yamaguchi will apparently lose all sense of self-preservation and voice his thoughts on how unbearably sensitive he is to a thing most people will flinch at and brush away like nothing.

But of course, it’s too late for him to realize his mistake now. It wasn’t until Hinata came barreling down the hall, shopping bag in hand, to tackle Yamaguchi to the living room carpet that things started rolling into motion.

Now Hinata’s got Yamaguchi pinned, arms under his knees and a big, big smile stretched over his face. It’s so genuine and excited that Yamaguchi finds himself getting a little lost in it, at least until the feather comes back into focus.

“I mean come on, Yamaguchi.” Hinata holds the quill of the feather and traces the soft end up his own arm, dusting it over his collarbone and getting just a hint of a twitch out of his lips before twirling it between his fingers. “I almost think that you’re lying to me.”

But his face must convince Hinata otherwise, because he doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a lie. The tracing of the feather, even along Hinata’s skin has Yamaguchi twitching, breathing funny. Goosebumps rise along his arms, and Hinata is so riled up with energy—so ready to take Yamaguchi apart—that it’s practically impossible for the brunette to even try and stop the wobbly smile making its way onto his face.

Hinata is the one to burst the bubble of anticipation building slowly in Yamaguchi’s gut. He laughs, a delighted little sound, commenting on the cute pink of Yamaguchi’s blush before he goes in for the kill. And Yamaguchi has never been that great at holding back his reactions, especially when he’s already a tense and flustered mess untouched, so the result is pretty immediate.

The first giggle slips hesitantly out of his throat but clears the way for many more as Hinata gently traces the base of his neck, skimming over his collarbones like even a feather could break them if used too harshly.

It’s a little timid, a little reserved, which is a major change of pace from Hinata’s usual quick and dirty way of fighting. He’s always had a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of approach to a tickle fight; either win outright or die trying, but the new method seems to slow him down a bit.

He’s thinking, watching. And luckily, for him and most certainly not Yamaguchi, the change seems to work really well with the soft touch of the feather. Pulling giggle after giggle from his victim and making him sputter at the attention when he realizes how closely he’s being observed.

The plume travels slowly up Yamaguchi’s neck, high enough that he’s able to jerk his head to block out either side as it passes. Unfortunately, that just causes Hinata to speed up the back and forth strokes, attempting to dodge Yamaguchi’s blocks. And it’s effective and so much more ticklish, Yamaguchi chokes on his sudden snort and tosses his head back on impulse, laughter getting louder and more desperate as Hinata takes advantage of the newly exposed skin.

He keeps at it until Yamaguchi feels light-headed, a little delirious with his laughter completely unchecked. The feather strays to flick up over his ear, and the whimpering laugh that comes out keeps Hinata there until Yamaguchi’s shoulder is twitching spastically of its own accord, desperately trying to stop the light, constant brush over his sensitive skin.

He gets a break—thank God—after a few minutes of this. Being dubbed most ticklish in the house (after many, many tests) has left him with pretty high stamina. But somehow a few minutes of Hinata and a feather has him panting for breath like he’d just finished a hundred laps around the gym.

Yamaguchi is so caught up in catching his breath (and trying to calm that tic in his shoulder) that he doesn’t really think about how breaks aren’t much of Hinata’s style either.

His floaty mind comes to bite him when he feels two soft points of contact touch down on his wrists.

His arms jolt on instinct. His elbows move a smidge in either direction but stick firm to the ground. Hinata’s smile takes on a wicked gleam and...oh boy.

If Yamaguchi gets out of this alive, the others will have some real competition for scariest tickler.

The feathers sweep back and forth, back and forth over his arms. They start at the wrist, and would almost feel nice if not for the impending sense of doom that has blood rushing through Yamaguchi’s ears right now.

The swaying movement drifts up, painfully slow. He doesn’t even think it tickles that much right now, but that doesn’t stop him from physically biting his lip to stop the snickers from making their way out.

It’s when the pair reach his inner elbow that first crack appears. Yamaguchi gasps and Hinata perks up, keeping the feathers there a moment longer, letting them sweep side to side a little faster.

From there the cracks spiderweb exponentially.

The gasp ends up turning into a snort. As Himata continues his path upward, it becomes a whine. And when he’s at the faint line where his skin darkens with a tan, from long summer days spent out in a t-shirt, he decides to flick the feathers in an alternating pattern over either arm.

It has Yamaguchi rocking back and forth in a way that he guesses might look kind of funny. Hinata starts laughing anyways. And of course, it’s enough to get Yamaguchi’s lips to loosen and let out the stream of bubbling giggles he’s been suppressing for far too long already.

His arms feel warm, almost as hot as his face, even though their air conditioning has been working pretty decently lately. There’s a faint tingly feeling still left where the feathers had once brushed his skin.

Everything already feels so sensitive, and Hinata isn’t even there yet.

There are butterflies having a—a mosh pit in his stomach right now. He can’t remember the last time he felt so wound up getting tickled. Then again, he can’t remember the last time Hinata put this much...care? Is that the right word for this situation? —into destroying him.

It makes Yamaguchi a little happy, for some reason.

And sometime about that moment seems to be the limit for Hinata’s concentration, because the change from gentle, teasing touches to his usual form of attack is both quick and excruciating.

The moment after, when Yamaguchi suddenly has two feathers sweeping fast little strokes under his arms, his brain completely short circuits.

What leaves his mouth can only be called a shriek and it’s quickly drowned out by the squeaky, panicked laughter that floods the room immediately.

His chest is jerking side to side in vain. There’s hair in his eyes and a little in his mouth from how violently he’s tossing his head around, but he can’t register a thing beyond the millions of wispy, light strands fluttering a fast track over and over and over the soft and sensitive skin beneath his restrained arms.

Hinata gets the bright idea to not try and jam the delicate things towards the floor anymore. He instead tries twirling them in a circular motion in the spaces underneath Yamaguchi’s arms.

Yamaguchi didn’t think his voice was high enough to screech like he used to, but ‘Hey, you learn something new everyday,’ he thinks, entirely delirious.

His back arches off the ground, head tossing back then pressing into his shoulder as if it’ll somehow smother his hysterical laughter.

It’s bright and desperate and so, so loud. Yamaguchi would typically only reach this point when someone’s feeling particularly ruthless with plenty of time to spare, but it could be hours since Hinata first got him pinned down; it sure feels like it.

There are weird little squeaks that pierce the air when he’s got the breath. His limbs are doing this constant squirm that’s got him feeling hot all over. His lashes feel wet and he knows it’s a matter of seconds before the tears start to fall.

But nothing is more prominent than the feeling of soft, soft, so very soft; and it tickles, it tickles, it really tickles.

———

When Yamaguchi’s brain finally starts rebuilding from the mush, hiccuping giggles making their way through his gasps for breath, he feels Hinata still sitting on top of him. Thankfully—mercifully—though, the feathers are nowhere to be seen, and his hands have been let free.

Seeing Hinata’s hand in his peripheral makes him flinch, but he just wipes at Yamaguchi’s cheek, brushing away the leftover moisture.

“I had to stop because you were starting to look like a strawberry,” Hinata grins. His skin is cool against Yamaguchi’s. He leans into the touch.

“So...was that awesome or what?” Hinata continues, voice energetic though he still rubs a soothing motion over Yamaguchi’s cheek.

Yamaguchi takes a second to reflect. On the dreamy tiredness seeping into his bones, the floaty high that fills up his head.

He nods, once or twice. Though from where Hinata’s sitting, it could just be Yamaguchi nuzzling into his hand. That’s fine. Yamaguchi could use the plausible deniability.

Once he’s been declared as officially ‘not a strawberry anymore,’ Hinata helps him up. He only stumbles a little bit, but of course Hinata has to poke fun.

“You know what that means?” Hinata throws out, arm linked with Yamaguchi’s as they make their way to a well-deserved seat on the couch.

Yamaguchi hums in response.

“We’ve gotta start building up your tolerance.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, but he’s pushed onto the couch with a lap full of Hinata before he can say anything. He looks up at Yamaguchi all big eyes and a bigger smile. Yamaguchi swallows.

“We’re doing that again, soon.“

[xiyao-feels]

Part Four: My thoughts on the effects of these changes on our interpretations of the characters, and some miscellaneous final notes

Intro - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Okay, so. That's a list of changes. What kind of effect does it actually have on our interpretation of the characters?

For JGY, it's perhaps more subtle than you'd think. The complaint from JGY stans about FJ I heard most often, prior to watching it, was that JGY involves NHS in his brother's killing—whereas in MDZS, as shown, if anything he functions as NHS' protector. This is definitely obnoxious, but to my eye the worst changes are the perhaps more subtle ones. The JGY of FJ is significantly different from the JGY of MDZS and CQL in two ways: first, he has more options available, and second, without ever making an explicit claim, the text nevertheless sends the strong message that he is /not actually in danger from NMJ/.

What do I mean about more options? To begin with, he teaches NHS the corrupted SoC. This carries some risk of LXC finding out, and a much greater risk of NHS finding out—as, indeed, he does. I don't see how this could plausibly be a risk worth taking for JGY; the narrative's insistence suggests either that he has some way to mitigate that risk, or that he's secure enough he can afford to be so careless. His ability to achieve such strong, immediate affects via musical cultivation, despite his weak cultivation level, adds to the general sense that FJ JGY is much less constrained than MDZS or CQL JGY, as does JGS' complete absence from the narrative; it would be easy to forget that JGY is under any social/political pressure at all, even though this is a constant theme in NMJ and JGY's confrontations in MDZS and CQL, and the pressure and danger from JGS specifically is central to their confrontation at the stairs. The lack of any hint of or history of disrespect to LFZ from the Nie men, given what we see of their interaction in CQL, is yet another example of FJ ignoring the constraints JGY actually has to work with.

And, of course, FJ suggests that he has the option to actually cure NMJ, when the fact that he doesn't is in my opinion central to the morality of the decision, to understanding JGY's character, and indeed to many of the themes of the text. (In fact as a friend pointed out to me it suggests that NHS or indeed anyone could learn the music to cure him, although FJ does not seem to realize the implications of this itself.)

This ties in with point two: that JGY is not actually in danger from NMJ. We never see NMJ attack him—NMJ's violence is reserved for other people. Furthermore, we see him (and later NHS) stop NMJ's violence by the quick application of the uncorrupted SoC; this includes, as I've mentioned in previous sections, a scene where JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger via cultivation, while in the nearest MDZS scene JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger very explicitly by being a more appealing target. Watching FJ, it would be very difficult to understand how much danger JGY was actually in, and how much he was a target of NMJ's violence.

Even in CQL, NMJ tries to kill JGY at the stairs, drawing his sabre on him after the stairs kick—and even that first attempted blow, before they exchange words outside, could have caused JGY serious damage. In MDZS, after the stairs—where NMJ would very likely have succeeded in killing JGY if LXC hadn't intervened—though WWX admires JGY's skill in finding the right words to convince NMJ to "give him another chance," JGY is only able to do this by promising he'll do something that would probably get him killed, and then promising NMJ that he can kill JGY if he doesn't do it. Moreover, NMJ ends his own life by kicking down a door to kill JGY on the spot, because he did not like the way he was talking about NMJ to LXC. This is a very, very far cry from anything presented in FJ.

The idea that JGY could actually cure NMJ goes to this as well. NMJ is as violent to JGY as he is because of the sabre curse; JGY's choices are endure this, and hope to survive, or...kill him quicker, and hope to survive. He doesn't actually have a choice that involves not being subject to NMJ's violence. Ignoring this fundamentally changes JGY's character, who is so defined by the constraints under which he suffers, and indeed by the lack of physical security he has until he becomes Jin-zongzhu.

What then about NMJ's character? Honestly I don't even have the words for this; it's a profound insult to his original character. The thing is, it's not just that NMJ doesn't doubt the righteousness of Nie cultivation practices, although he very much does not. It's that NMJ would never do something he secretly thought was unrighteous, never mind /shape his life around it/. If he believed something wasn't righteous, he simply wouldn't do it. This is literally the heart of his conflict with JGY, and it repeats throughout the text again and again.

Further, and less flattering to NMJ: NMJ is absolutely convinced of the righteousness of his own judgement. It's not just that he wouldn't do something he thought in his heart wasn't righteous; he's never the kind of torn he is shown to be in FJ, and he never doubts his own judgement. When NHS challenges him here on whether he's qualified to decide the fate of evildoers, who are after all still evil, part of him clearly thinks NHS has a point. But NMJ absolutely, one hundred percent believes in his right to play—if you'll pardon the phrase—judge, jury, and executioner. It's not just JGY, although it very much is, also, JGY; at no point does he seem to believe anything but that he has the absolute right to kill JGY if he decides to. Indeed, some of his worst violence to JGY is a result of JGY challenging his assertions of righteousness, at the stairs. We see it with XY, both in MDZS and arguably even more clearly in CQL as well: in episode 10 he instantly decides that XY should be executed, and is about to carry out that execution when WWX intervenes—and then he's offended about WWX's intervention! The only reason he doesn't carry out the execution on the spot is MY's argument that keeping XY alive can be used to harm the Wen. And, of course, we see it with his attitude to WQ and WN, although people are so often determined to ignore this. Please note that he argues /against/ JC and LXC's defense of them, both in MDZS and in CQL; if ever there was a single incident that could have changed at all how things came out, it would be the very respected sect leader Nie, whose sect is after the Jin the strongest surviving sect post-Sunshot, speaking out in their defense at the conference convened to determine what to do about the fact that WWX just made off with them.

Now, thematically, I think part of the point of his character is that his inflexibility is...well, inflexible; his condemnation of people who are in bad positions does more harm than good. Returning to JGY for a moment, I also think it's telling that NMJ doesn't take effective action to accomplish his goals re: XY. This isn't even just because JGY killed him—if he had actually killed JGY instead, then he would have found quite suddenly that he'd killed Lianfang-zun, the war hero who killed WRH, his own sworn brother, JGS' beloved son, etc etc etc. It would not have gone well for him. Part of the point is that—in a corrupt system, acting as though the system isn't corrupt will itself lead to injustice. Making NMJ himself knowingly complicit in the corruption of that system rather defeats that point.

I am also, I admit, /extremely/ annoyed that /he/ is offered the understanding that he had no choice because of his position, while JGY's difficulties are ignored, and when a) although from what we see in MDZS it would certainly have been quite difficult, he did actually have a choice b) the movie strongly suggests (with the ready willingness of the Nie men to follow him when he rejects the ancestral method of balancing, their respect for sabre-weak NHS, and the lack of opposition from any other area) that it would not, actually, have been that difficult, socially speaking.

I think in terms of the effects this has on people's interpretations of JGY, probably this makes them think that NMJ at the stairs rejects the specifics of JGY's argument, and contributes to a general lack of engagement with the substance of what JGY is actually saying (and the lack of substance of NMJ's reply). People mostly ignore NMJ's similar stance towards WQ, so I suspect this doesn't have much effect there; I have on occasion seen the claim that he was right to condemn her as well, but I mostly don't think it was coming from an FJ-inspired place.

When it comes to NHS…mmm. As I said, CQL makes him less amoral at the beginning, although it doesn't prevent his total—I'm not even sure you can say 'carelessness towards collateral damage' in the current timeline when from his perspective collateral damage would be a good thing, since it would be blamed on JGY. Not to mention the way he treats QS, what he's implied to do with MS' body... I suspect that FJ!NHS is where you get man-of-the-people NHS, who would /totally/ have built those watchtowers instead of that awful JGY if that awful JGY hadn't cruelly murdered his brother because a) he's Evil and/or b) he's ambitious (and also evil), and what other considerations could there possibly be?

To which I can only say: fucking spare me. I suspect the characterization here of NHS and of the Nie men contributes generally to fandom's idea of a much more gentle and progressive cultivation world than either MDZS or CQL supports.

In summation: FJ is, considered as providing any kind of interpretive light on CQL and/or MDZS characters, a terrible movie. If you are not fully familiar with the relevant portions of MDZS, I don't see how you could come away from this without absorbing significant falsehoods. Although I certainly can't and indeed don't wish to tell anyone what they should or should not consider canon, I do think it's important to know that incorporating FJ into your personal canon is going to result in an extremely different characters than not doing so, and if you want to argue with CQL or MDZS fans about characters' characterizations based on FJ, it's not going to be a very productive discussion for anyone involved.

A few miscellaneous notes:

-The change in the narrative of NMJ's violence extends beyond the replacement of his primary target. In fact, there are three things in particular I want to pull out.

First, and despite his near assault of NHS, FJ!NMJ is portrayed as much less...well, scary, than MDZS NMJ, and even to some extent CQL NMJ. NMJ habitually takes out his anger in undirected violence towards objects—the boulder when he hears his men talking about MY, the boulder(/pillar in CQL) after MY kills WRH, the door he kicks open to kill JGY before he qi-deviates, the table he cracks in his anger around NHS delighting in fans rather than knowing where he sabre is; even, though here at least it is a clear deliberate choice, his burning of NHS' things. In FJ—well, I don't want to say there's none of that, he does at least break NHS' paintbrush and I could be misremembering other things, but it certainly seems a lot less prevalent. And more than that, people simply don't react to him as terrifying! In FJ, NHS after NMJ /nearly hits him/ is still a lot less scared of NMJ's anger than NHS is in this parallel scene in MDZS, where he does not (ch 49):

One day, the moment he returned to the main hall of the Unclean Realm, he saw about a dozen folding fans, all lined in gold, flattened out one next to the other in front of Nie HuaiSang, who was touching them tenderly, mumbling as he compared the inscriptions written on each one. Immediately, veins protruded from Nie MingJue’s forehead, “Nie HuaiSang!”

Nie HuaiSang fell at once.

He really did fall to his knees from the terror. He only staggered up after he finished kneeling, “B-b-b-brother.”

Nie MingJue, “Where is your saber?”

Nie HuaiSang cowered, “In… in my room. No, in the school grounds. No, let me… think…”

Wei WuXian could feel that Nie MingJue almost wanted to hack him dead right there, “You bring a dozen fans with you wherever you go, yet you don’t even know where your own saber is?!”

Nie HuaiSang hurried, “I’ll go find it right now!”

Nie MingJue, “There’s no need! Even if you find it you won’t get anything out of it. Go burn all of these!”

All of the color drained out of Nie HuaiSang’s face. He rushed to pull all of the fans into his arms, pleading, “No, Brother! All of these were given to me!”

Nie MingJue slammed his palm onto a table, causing it to crack, “Who did? Tell them to scurry out here right now!”

Even though he nearly hits NHS, even though he actually kills many of his own men, he is simply not presented as nearly as scary.

Second, and not unrelatedly, in FJ the narrative focus of the consequence of NMJ's violence is on his own pain at his men's death, and NHS' pain at seeing him kill them. In MDZS, this is more complicated. We see, of course, his violence to JGY, and the consequences to JGY of that violence; at the stairs, for example, kicking JGY down the stairs he gives him another head wound to add to the one Madam Jin gave him. Moreover, his increasing rage actually /damages/ his relationship with NHS. We see this notably in NHS' reaction to NMJ burning his things (ch 49):

Nie HuaiSang’s eyes brimmed red. He didn’t even make a sound. Jin GuangYao added, “It’s alright even if the things are gone. Next time I can find you more…”

Nie MingJue interrupted, his words like ice, “I’ll burn them each time he brings them back into this sect.”

Anger and hatred suddenly flashed across Nie HuaiSang’s face. He threw his saber onto the ground and yelled, “Then burn them!!!”

Jin GuangYao quickly stopped him, “HuaiSang! Your brother is still angry. Don’t…”

Nie HuaiSang roared at Nie MingJue, “Saber, saber, saber! Who the fuck wants to practice the damn thing?! So what if I want to be a good-for-nothing?! Whoever that wants to can be the sect leader! I can’t learn it means I can’t learn it and I don’t like it means I don’t like it! What’s the use of forcing me?!”

He then runs off the field and locks himself in his rooms, not even letting anyone in to bring him medicine. The next we hear about NHS is in the next scene, not two months later, when LXC describes NMJ's recent troubles (ch 50): "These past few days, he has been deeply troubled by the saber spirit, and HuaiSang has argued with him again." Now, they clearly continue to love each other, and NHS is clearly devastated by NMJ's death; but in the months leading up to NMJ's death, their relationship was unusually strained, not closer than ever.

Thirdly, I think the narrative ends up distorting the way NMJ's sabre rages work. Not completely—the example where he almost punches NHS is actually a pretty good example—but consider his final violence to his men. He kills them, /not/ because in his rage he feels that killing them would be righteous punishment for whatever they have done, but because he hallucinates that they are WRH's puppets. But I don't believe we see NMJ hallucinate anything until he actually qi-deviates—at which point he hallucinates that they are /JGY/, and while in CQL at least JGY has confessed to the corrupted music before he starts hallucinating JGYs, in MDZS his anger is, again, about how JGY was talking about him to LXC. When NMJ is violent to people under the effects of the sabre curse, it is because he is angry, and in his anger that violence feels reasonable. There is not as far as I can tell anything that suggests that his sabre-affected rages feel differently from the inside than his more regular rages—nor do we ever see him apologize for the harm he does in his rages, precisely because, to him, his rage and hence his subsequent violence feel like entirely appropriate responses to the situation. I think this goes to point two, above; it would be harder to induce sympathy for NMJ if, say, he killed his men because they were challenging him, and at no point acknowledged he has been wrong to do so.

-You could probably do something interesting here with considering this movie as splitting JGY's character between NMJ (the man who makes difficult decisions due to his political position), NHS (the weak but skilled cultivator), and NZH (the loyal and extremely competent subordinate), even as it ignores the much greater difficulty of JGY's position, that his weakness is because he lacked NHS' opportunities and his skill obtained despite lacking them, that unlike FJ NMJ he actually does need to make those difficult decisions to achieve his goals and does indeed achieve them, etc. This is left as an exercise to the reader.

-I greatly resent the clear and extensive visual parallels between NHS' bow to JGY, at the end of the film, and MY's bow to JGS after JGS kicks him down the Jinlintai stairs, and the way the similarity is taken as indicating parallels beyond the visual. This is, first, because their positions are not at all the same. I am certainly not saying NHS' position was in any way comfortable or good; nevertheless, he is at that moment a clan leader who is surrounded by men who, from the film, would not hesitate to die at his command. There is not really anything about the presentation of the Nie men in FJ that suggests that if NHS went outside that room with JGY and announced to them that JGY had killed NMJ and they should attack him now, his men would do anything other than try to kill JGY immediately at his command. This was, needless to say, very much not the position of the young teenager MY, far from home, injured, humiliated, and made a public joke; perhaps more subtle is that NHS' position at NMJ's death, though he is politically weak and though he has just suffered a devastating loss, is still more secure than /JGY's/ at the same, as JGY—far from being a clan leader with the absolute obedience of his men—is not even JGS' acknowledged heir. Indeed, in many ways the focus of NHS' enmity on /JGY/, rather than JGS who commands him, is an extension of NMJ's focus on JGY rather than JGS when it comes to achieving XY's execution, and in both cases extremely advantageous to JGS. Certainly NMJ would not have been able to get away with harassing Zixuan as he does JGY on the matter of XY; likewise, JGS would never have risked Zixuan in an attempt to kill NMJ as he does JGY. The advantage of JGY as assassin is that if he kills NMJ, JGS wins; if NMJ kills him, JGS also wins (an incalculable political advantage); and if he is caught, his background makes him both easily severable and an ideal scapegoat. Also returning to framing of the bow—and while this is much more trivial it is a recurring petty imitation—I have seen matched gifsets suggesting that JGY was also swearing revenge on JGS at this moment.

-The last words JGY says to NHS are "Restrain your grief;" in English of course this comes across as extremely insensitive, but see drwcn's post for some cultural context; it's actually a common expression of condolences.

-I believe this is whence the idea that MY's headpiece in CQL used to be NHS', because we see kid NHS wearing it in the flashbacks; let us say, if you don't feel the need to accept FJ as canon, I don't think you need to accept that, either.

Previous

[antihero-writings]

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch9)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: Hey! So sorry for the delay, once again!! 

I've learned I really can't make any promises based on how fast I'll get these out XD But I have actually already started on the next chapter--in fact it's one I've been excited about for a long time, so I started on it a while ago--so that's a good sign at least, haha.

I'm very VERY excited to share this one with you!! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do!! 

I hope you guys like it!! As always, it's your comments, and interest, that keep me writing!! <3

@toms-wife Okay if I tag you??

If anyone else wants to be tagged on future chapters don’t hesitate to let me know!!

Chapter 9: On the Topic of Souls, and Other Such Oddities 

Snape marched towards the Headmaster’s office, his cloak swishing about his heels. It was the next morning after everything had happed, and he couldn’t say the little sleep he got left him feeling refreshed. Numerous meetings, and even more numerous questions have a way of making one altogether restless.

And, in the end…an innocent girl was dead. It isn’t easy to sleep after such news, even barring the politics of it all.

When he entered he got the feeling that Dumbledore had just been speaking with the portraits, as words trailed off, and Dumbledore, standing in the middle of the room, turned to him like he had been about to make a very good point. The portraits too looked down at him in—if he wasn’t mistaken—an annoyed way.

“Ah, Severus. Welcome. We were merely discussing if lemon drops or chocolate frogs are better. Theodore moved that chocolate frogs are more pleasingly sweet, but I think the best sweets have a bit of tang to them. Would you like to weigh in?”

Snape raised an eyebrow. The glare the portrait gave showed there was more than a small chance the matter they were discussing was something weightier than that.

When Snape didn’t comment, Dumbledore moved on;

“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. Snape reluctantly swept around and sat in it.

Dumbledore walked over to a side table with a strange contraption on it, which quickly revealed itself to be a sort of odd teapot, as he proceeded to pour the steaming liquid within it into a teacup. He retained his calm, pleasant demeanor, but Snape could tell the previous day weighed on him too: there was a slight shake to his motions, and his eyes held a heaviness that his smile couldn’t mask.

“Sir…would it not be better to do this another time?”

Dumbledore gave a knowing smile. “You’re not suggesting that I am getting old, are you?”

“No, merely that such news takes a toll on all of us.”

“Many things take a toll, Severus.” He gestured to the tea to ask if he wanted a cup, Snape gave a small nod. “It is if we decide to let that toll keep us from crossing the bridge that matters.”

The headmaster brought the two cups over and he took his place on the opposite side of the desk.

Snape paused before speaking. “I assume you have brought me here to discuss the sentence of the boy with the unspeakable name.” He took a sip of tea.

“You know what they say about assuming, Severus.” He lowered his glasses. “But in this case you are correct. And it’s not so unspeakable, in fact, I encourage you to call him by it.”

Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Before I endeavor to divulge my carefully-laid plans,” Dumbledore spoke, putting a handful of sugar into his tea. “I would like to hear your thoughts on the matter: what do you think we ought to do with the young Tom Riddle?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“It’s the only kind of speaking I endorse.”

“I think we should dispose of him as soon as possible. He’s too dangerous, too clever. It’s inevitable that he’ll get his memory back even if we attempt to do everything in our power to shield him from it—perhaps before we so much as try.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” One of the portraits burst out and a few others nodded in agreement.

“Keeping him alive is like keeping a ticking time bomb as a pet,” Snape continued, “thinking a little love is enough to keep it from exploding. He’s nothing more than a liability.”

Snape’s dark eyes flicked to Dumbledore, who had been listening pleasantly, with his hands folded on the desk.

“But…”—Snape drew the kind of long breath one takes when they know they’ve lost the fight before it starts, and exhaled—“something tells me you disagree.”

Dumbledore smiled. “It seems you know me too well.”

“Sir…need I remind you of your meeting with him as a child? You once told me you wished you’d been more careful, more cautious, more discerning when dealing with him in the past.”

“Thank you, but my memory has not proven faulty just yet.”

“If that’s true then I also don’t need to remind you of the things I’ve seen him do first hand. Actions that do not make me partial to the idea of keeping him alive.”

“Quite the contrary, it is for that exact reason that I am trusting with this situation.” He paused, looking at him over his half moon spectacles and saying meaningfully. “You and no one else.”

“‘Trusting me with this situation’?” He drummed his fingers on the armrest.

“Is that not what you would call telling you all this?”

Snape said nothing, taking another sip of tea. That was true too, he was sure, though this was one of those moments in which he could tell Dumbledore meant something more than just that.

Dumbledore stood, walking over to the window as if he had all the time in the world, and he wanted to enjoy some sunlight.

“That boy is not Voldemort,” he murmured, taking a sip of tea.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Respectfully, Sir, I beg to disagree.”

“That boy is merely a young Tom Riddle: a teenager who looks like who Voldemort once was when he was young, and who has some of the personality of Tom riddle, and who, if given the right parameters, could become Voldemort. But he is not Voldemort now.”

“All he needs to become the Dark Lord again is to get his memory back, something which I do not think will prove altogether difficult.”

“Perhaps. But there is something else. After giving it careful consideration I find that my theory is sound.”

“What theory would this be?”

He paused, gathering his words. “It is my understanding that a door, once opened, can be walked through in either direction.”

Snape remained silent, waiting for him to tie the statement to their situation.

“What if I told you that our dear Ginny Weasley may not be dead?”

“I would say that is something we’d all like to hear, but that it would be wiser not to put your faith into fairy tales.”

“As I expected.” He turned, smiling. “However,” he began taking careful steps towards Snape, looking at his feet, “it is my personal inclination that the method by which he returned to the land of the living had a fatal flaw.”

“Which is?”

He looked up at him and stopped, saying meaningfully, “It required a young girl’s life.

“You see,” Dumbledore continued, “he will have assumed, of course, that her soul was destroyed in the process of bringing him back to life—her life merely energy to use up. But what if, as it were, he assumed wrongly? In my experience, human souls are far more resilient than that. What if, much like she poured herself into the diary, her soul was simply”—He took an extra teacup off the table—“poured into a new vessel:”—he poured the tea from his cup into the empty one—“The form of Tom Riddle himself.”

Pondering this for a moment, Snape looked away. As he did, Dumbledore returned to his seat once more.

Snape wanted to dismiss the theory right away, and intended to. However, the more Dumbledore explained it, and the more he thought about it…it wasn’t baseless. However—

“You are assuming a rather large amount with little to go on. We can’t base our decisions on a theory, especially one so far-fetched as the idea that the simple method of revival was enough for the soul of a young girl to persist.”

Far-fetched, perhaps…but then he thought of what he saw when he read the boy’s mind yesterday. The wall in his head. How there seemed to be something trapped behind it. Something alive.

“No, but we can let theories inform our decisions. If there is that chance, do you not think it worth exploring?”

“Are you proposing we let the young Dark Lord live on the very small chance we can salvage her soul from the brink? Or else that her presence within his soul will cause him to …what? Grow a heart? Forgive me but that sounds like a hopeless endeavor. Lamentable as the situation may be, we can’t sacrifice all of wizardkind for the soul of one little girl.”

Dumbledore sighed, and there was a heaviness to it. “No. I am afraid that it is unlikely the poor Ginny would be able to return to her original state. I am unsure if her soul is even fully intact. Or, further still, she may not be entirely aware of her current predicament herself either. When speaking of souls, it’s difficult to discern where consciousness resides. It would be unwise, however, to dismiss any of these options entirely either. Rather I am proposing that the presence of her soul is a variable with unprecedented possible outcomes.”

“This is the Dark Lord we’re talking about. I don’t think one little girl’s presence—be it within his soul itself—is going to make much difference.”

Dumbledore smiled. “You of all people should know it is unwise underestimate the influence of one little girl.”

Snape’s eyes widened, unable to keep himself from reacting to that. He turned his head away.

“The Dark Lord is incapable of love, of human emotion,” Snape muttered softly.

“Perhaps. However, personally I like to refrain from making such bold statements about even the cruelest of men. But, even so, it is for precise reasons such as those why I believe the simple presence of someone who is capable of love, of human emotion, within his soul, could make all the difference. As long as there is more holy water than plain, the whole vat becomes holy.”

Snape sighed, looking away. “It is a gargantuan risk for something that is nothing more than an educated hypothesis. What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I will face the consequences.”

“Then we all will face the consequences. Those consequences could easily be the destruction of all of either wizard or muggle-kind—or both. What would you do then?”

Dumbledore sighed. “You seem to be rather caught up in that.”

“I’m more surprised to find that you’re not. Unless there is some way to guarantee he won’t repeat his past sins, then I cannot entertain the thought of keeping him alive.”

“I think we may be able to work something out.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t some misguided journey to erase your past sins, is it?”

“No.” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. “It’s a misguided journey to try to erase his.”

“Think for a moment! If you are wrong, is there any reason you have to keep the Dark Lord alive, if not for the thought that perhaps Ginny Weasley yet lives within his soul? Any at all?”

“Oh yes, several in fact.”

Another eyebrow raise.

Dumbledore leaned forward on his desk. “I think you are underestimating the gravity of the opportunity we have been given. An opportunity which I do not believe will present itself again. We have been handed a young Tom Riddle—without memory, no less. Tom Riddle, who has yet to commit the crimes of his previous self.”

“Tom Riddle, who already exhibited little to no regard for others’ well-being! He felt no compassion upon seeing a corpse!” Anger reached his voice, he was very close to slamming his fist on the table.

“Yet he has hurt no one.”

“He’s only been around for a day.”

“A day which Voldemort could have easily spent hurting and killing as many people as he wished.”

Snape looked away. “One amnesic day does not determine the capacity of a life.”

“No, you are correct about that. But…try to imagine for a moment. Do you understand what kind of asset it would be if we were able to get a young Tom Riddle to come over to our side? If we could save him from becoming who he once was…it could save us all.”

“You’ve made this mistake before.”

“I’ve made this decision before. My mistake was in the fact that I did not realize just how much evil such a young boy was capable of. I know now what that boy could become—and already has once—and that it will take much more than a watchful eye to save him from the darkness lurking in his own heart.”

“Do you realize just how easy it would be for him to fall back into that darkness?”

“Which is why I want to keep him alive. To try to prevent him from making the mistakes of his past self. The key difference here, is that there is a chance he has light in him now, in the form of Ginny. If that’s true, we need only water that seed.”

“You don’t know that there’s light in him!” Snape stood abruptly sweeping around resting his hands the back of his chair.” At best that’s an informed hunch! Are you really willing to base such an important decision on that?! The only way to guarantee he won’t make the mistakes of his past self is to prevent him from making any decisions at all!

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Snape blinked. “Is that all this is to you? A bit of fun?” He spat.

“Of course not.” His smile dropped at last, along with his eyes to the desk. “A young girl’s life has been lost. I’d prefer not to lose another.”

“Even if that other life is the life of the Dark Lord?”

“It is not the life of the Dark Lord.” He traced his finger along the rim of his teacup. “It is the life of the young Tom Riddle, who is entirely unaware of the crimes of his previous self—or anything much at all. He has shown no immediate inclinations to harm others, even if he is a bit insensitive. Forgive me, but I do not think it right to simply dispose of him.

“There is another thought that gives me unease as well.” Dumbledore seemed unsure he wanted to say it aloud. He folded his hands and looked at down. “If it turns out that my theory is correct, and Ginny isn’t dead after all…if we decide to dispose of him now, we, and not he, will be the ones who killed her.” The words were altogether too soft.

Snape ran his hand through his hair. “So what do you propose we do with him? Keeping the young Dark Lord alive, and a secret, will be much more difficult than simply killing him.”

“Oh I’m not denying that. If all goes according to plan, there are a number of portraits and other such lingering spirits we will have to inform of the situation.” He eyed the portraits, which folded their arms, harrumphed and looked away.

“And you’re actually proposing that we teach him magic? To the point where, when he does remember who he is, he’ll have the means at his disposal to destroy us all?”

“If we don’t teach him magic, if and when he regains his memory, do you not think he would seek out those means on his own anyways? At least this way we’re teaching him in a controlled environment, where we know where he is, and how much he knows at any given time—not to mention we can decide how much caution to exercise in the smaller details of the situation.”

“Even so…we can’t place a sixteen-year old who knows nothing of magic in first year classes.”

“Nor am I proposing that we do so. I intend to have someone teach—or remind, rather; I think he will be quick to pick it back up—of the basics over the summer. It may not be an easy task to get permission from the ministry to allow a boy under seventeen to do magic over the summer, but I think I may be able to come up with something. Either that, or we may be able to hope they assume the one doing the magic is the wizard who already lives in the house.”

“You’ve told me he has a penchant for flattery that caused many teachers to let their guard down around him. I don’t think I have to tell you why I don’t think it wise to have just any wizard teach the young Dark Lord.”

“I fear you underestimate me, Severus. You really think I would choose just any wizard teach to him? In fact—if you’ll permit my saying—he’ll have a teacher who is rather stern, and won’t find himself so easily swayed by flattery.”

“And who is the lucky contestant?”

Dumbledore gave him a look strangely similar to the smirk of a mischievous schoolboy, running his fingers along his wand.

“I did tell you I was trusting you with the situation, did I not?”

Snape’s eyes widened. He took a step back as if he’d been physically hit.

“No.”

“You asked me if I was proposing that we teach him magic,” Dumbledore elaborated, “and, for the summer at least…Actually I’m proposing that you teach him magic.”

Snape rarely found himself struck dumb but in that moment he was at a loss for both words and actions. For a moment he wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t been placed under a powerful confundus charm.

“During the school year, of course, he’ll learn here.” Dumbledore continued. “That is, if aforementioned summer goes smoothly.”

Snape blinked, shook his head, as if trying to remove a wrackspurt. The only thing he could ask was:

“Why me?”

Dumbledore frowned. “I thought I’d made that rather obvious. Because—as you so well proved over the past few moments—no matter how kind, how flattering, how clever, he appears, you will always keep in mind who and what he is. And, if he shows any signs of becoming his past self—or future self, as it were—you will not hesitate to do what is necessary.”

“Is there a reason you can’t do this, Sir?”

“Oh, I’m an old sap, Severus. For all we know I might grow attached to the boy.”

“And you want me to…what?” He spat. “Invite him cordially to stay in my home,” He held out a hand and bowed, “feed him, coddle him, tell him what a good little boy he is,”—he clapped his hands—“all the while teaching him all sorts of dangerous spells?!”

“No. I will inform him of the situation. Then after that I am suggesting you take him to your house—you don’t have to be too terribly cheerful about it, merely as amicable as you are able—feed him, provide him a place to stay over the summer. I’m not suggesting you coddle him—though kindness is a virtue—rather give him both praise and criticism, and each in moderation. That you teach him the basics of magic, and the spells you think would be useful, but not terribly dangerous. I trust your judgment there wholeheartedly.”

Snape stared at a speck of dirt on the ground as if that could tether him to this moment, breath weighing heavy on his chest, his mind splintering into fractals of thoughts. How could Dumbledore possibly expect this of him?

“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. “Oh!” He held up a finger. “Yes. Harry will be staying with you as well.”

Snape jerked his head to look at him, and this time couldn’t hold back:

“WHAT?!”

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit—the poor boy has been through a lot, he won’t be fond of the idea—but I think it’s important that he and the young Tom Riddle become…Well let’s put it this way, I don’t think Harry giving him hateful glares in the hallways at school will help the situation. Currently both he and you seem to have more than enough of those to spare.”

“Oh yes, and forcing us all to live together will certainly solve that problem!”

“While it’s true that living with someone can indeed increase one’s distaste…I do find that living with someone forces you to build a bond of some sort with them, and sympathize with them, in ways you would never have otherwise.”

“You’re asking the three people in this school who have the greatest distaste for each other to spend three months in a confined space!” He spat. “Not only do I think the boy would likely kill one of us before the summer is over, I’d be surprised if we don’t all end up killing each other halfway through June!”

“Or…perhaps the three of you will come to a new understanding about each other.” Dumbledore was as calm as ever. Snape wanted to wipe that smug look of his face.

“I don’t see than happening any time soon.”

“You might be surprised.”

Snape leaned against a pillar, running his hand over his face. He knew from the beginning that he wasn’t going to win this argument, but this was more than a loss, it felt like a slap in the face.

“Don’t you understand?” Dumbledore resumed his previous argument. “Tom Riddle never had a single friend—even at this age his ‘friends’ were all merely supporters and worshippers. If he and the boy destined to destroy him—who will most certainly neither blindly worship nor support him—were to become something even remotely close to friends it could make all the difference. And I think Harry is the only one who can truly change him.”

“The Dark Lord doesn’t make friends. Even without memory I don’t believe he’ll have any inclinations to form attachments—especially not to someone like Potter. He himself said he feels hatred at the sound of Potter’s name.”

“Need I remind you once more this is not the Dark Lord we’re speaking of? Memoryless, and with the presence of Ginny inside him—who already has an affinity for Harry—I think there is at least some chance his opinions on Harry, as well as concepts such as friendship itself may change. He did mention that he hates the sound of Harry’s name, as well as mine, yes. However, when I asked him if it made him sad that he had no friends, for a brief second he said yes.”

“He corrected himself immediately afterwards.”

“In all my years teaching the boy, I never saw a single moment’s hesitation, especially on a question like that.”

Snape let out a breath.

“Doesn’t Potter need to stay with his aunt and uncle?” Snape rubbed his temple, feeling defeated, voice breathy, “His mother’s protection—”

“Oh he will stay with his aunt and uncle at first, still. However, I was discussing it with the portraits, and considering the strange situation, I find the rules may be a little different, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, have him live with the Dark Lord! That will keep him very safe!” Snape sighed, slumping in his chair once again, holding his head in his hand.

“It is not one of my safest ideas, I’ll admit. But you’ll be there, of course. And you haven’t given me reason to doubt that you’re up to the task of protecting him, should the need arise.”

“You expect too much of me. There is only so much I can do.”

“It is true you can only be so many places at once. But if I did not think you were capable of accomplishing such a task, I would not ask in the first place.”

“This is lunacy,” he breathed into his hand.

“I hope I haven’t fallen prey to madness just yet. But I will not rule out the possibility.”

Dumbledore paused, standing back up and walking around the desk. “I understand if you need more time to mull it over. I often find after jarring news a walk and a good bottle of mead do wonders.”

“I only have one guest room, Sir,” Snape muttered.

“Harry can sleep on the couch.” Dumbledore said pleasantly. “He’s very small, I’m sure you’ll barely notice him.”

Snape glared at him through his fingers. “…I think I’ll notice him.”

“You haven’t answered my most pressing concern. What’s to say the boy won’t get up and kill us both in our sleep?”

“…That doesn’t sound much like Harry at all.”

“The other one.”

“We will need to discuss what protections we should put in place, certainly. But you and I are both very smart, very skilled wizards. It would be disappointing if, putting our heads together, we are unable to come up with something.”

There was a long moment of silence. Snape put his hand in his hair, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and had gone wrong before…or at least just how much annoyance such a living situation would provide, even if there was no real danger. No matter how much chaos may occur over the school years, his summers at least had always been quiet.

His next words were soft, but thick with emotion. “I don’t think it wise for him to live with me, Sir. I don’t think I could ever feel any kindness towards the man who killed her.”

“But,” Dumbledore’s voice was as gentle as a moth’s wing beat, no annoyance or exasperation in his tone at the fact that he had to keep repeating himself, “he is not the man that killed her. Not yet. And you have the unique chance of saving him from becoming that man.”

“Not a chance that could save her.”

“No, you’re right, that chance has long since passed. But you can save hundreds of other men and women just as kind as her.”

“No one is as kind as her.”

Dumbledore knelt down beside him, putting his hand on his arm, a certain twinkle in his eyes. “If you give it a chance…I think you may just find that Harry is.”

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[gascon-en-exil]

Your view on fandom is fair enough. I'd like to add that while Edelgard would make a good villain (and does on two routes), Dimitri, in his madman phase, makes an even better villain. I didn't enjoy his redemption arc because it was clumsily done and an absolute drag to actually play through, so instead I enjoy the idea of a formerly kindhearted man losing himself to the point of becoming an irredeemable beast.

This doesn’t work very well however, in large part because, like Claude, Dimitri just isn’t important enough to the plot outside his own route. 

In VW it’s treated as a major reveal that he’s still alive at Gronder, but after you defeat him he’s killed offscreen by Edelgard’s forces and that’s that. He’s an almost random obstacle and not even the focal point of that chapter, and his motivation is then posthumously validated by Dedue taking it up and reappearing in Enbarr to help Byleth’s army and take his revenge. In SS Dimitri’s only Part 2 appearance is Byleth (probably) dreaming/hallucinating him being remorseful for his behavior after the offscreen Gronder battle, which is even less villainous and more tragic because he never opposes the player. It is considerably more random however, and as such Dedue carrying out the same role that he does in VW feels less natural although one could infer the same events happened to trigger it. 

CF has Dimitri fully sane, with the easy visual symbolism of him still having both eyes, as he was never separated from Dedue and forced to go on the run by Cornelia. It would be overly generous to call him a hero antagonist however, as - again like Claude - he’s only relevant to the one chapter and gets no development outside it. There’s a symmetry to Edelgard getting to finish the hit she ordered in the Prologue by killing both of the other leaders, and Dimitri gets to shine in the tragic role of a leader defending his homeland from conquest via his reactions to the deaths of the other Lions and especially his secret death scene with Dedue, but he’s still not important or developed enough to be an antagonist much less evil enough to be a villain. One of CF’s structural problems is that its conflict lacks focus, with only Rhea even somewhat established as an overarching threat outside of the chapters where you fight her. That’s exacerbated by the route’s short length and breathless pacing, not to mention the hype for the postgame war against the Agarthans which is narratively unsatisfying to say the least. It really is just Edelgard and her precious teacher vs. the world, with Hubert having the supervillainous time of his life in the background.

With all that in mind I don’t see where Dimitri works as a villain. The opposition between Byleth and Edelgard is always front and center because the concept of an Avatar and lord fighting was the basic concept the game was built around. Even in AM where Byleth matters least and the protagonist/antagonist relationship works much better because Dimitri and Edelgard are both actual characters, the self-insert still plays a disproportionately large role in shaping events. This is a much bigger issue with AM than its pacing, which is easily the best of the routes and ends on a much stronger note of finality compared to VW and SS which have to keep going after Edelgard dies even though her war drives the plot of every route. That’s why she’s the antagonist for 3/4ths of the game, and why her being the source of the main conflict makes her villainous through her methods and the methods of her allies. 

Dimitri and Claude are bit players outside their respective routes, but one of the big reasons that people praise AM’s writing is that Dimitri’s character arc directly ties into the opposition between him and Edelgard through their history and her alliance with the people who perpetrated the Tragedy of Duscur. (This stands in contrast to Claude whose arc and motivations have nothing whatsoever to do with Edelgard, leaving her as only an obstacle to his ambitions with awkward implementation on account of VW being mostly a copy and paste of SS.) Parts of Dimitri’s development are rushed, but there’s an appreciable back-and-forth between him and his advisors as well as his established support network of full characters (read: not Byleth) who can criticize his actions and facilitate his growth. There’s also his framing, which is that of a traditional FE lord from start to finish with the subversive detour in the middle through his mental deterioration and eventual recovery. In their ending tapestries Edelgard is the red-draped conqueror with the smirking sorcerer in black behind her throne, Claude the yellow (in FE terms, neutral) statesman, and Byleth literally deified as the full realization of the self-insert fantasy - but for Dimitri the blue lord his ending involves playing with orphans in an image as benevolent as it is mildly saccharine.

And at least Dimitri has an arc; Claude has the aforementioned problem with his goals not aligning with the main conflict of his route, whereas if Byleth or Edelgard ever change at all they’re done by the end of Part 1 and after that they’re just seeing their stories through to the end. Another common critique of CF is that no one ever seriously questions Edelgard’s actions or challenges her in a meaningful way: Randolph and Ladislava’s death are almost comically unimportant, her response to the nuking of Arianrhod pivots not on the people who died or the betrayal from within but on her immediately lying about it to the Strike Force to further scapegoat Rhea*, and while before the final battle she raises the potential for conflict with Byleth being connected to the goddess and her children nothing comes of it other than Sothis’s Crest stone disappearing at the end for no apparent reason and Edelgard still getting her happy ending with Byleth anyway. While all that may be preferable for a power fantasy compared to AM repeatedly beating Dimitri over the head with his failings until he grows as a person, it’s not great for characterization. I also maintain that Hubert is a better center for CF as a power fantasy anyway, as he’s much more straightforward about his morally bankrupt actions and lacks the tonally dissonant scenes Edelgard has that are intended to play up her romance with Byleth. (He has comparable scenes of course, but they’re all confined to the support system where that sort of thing normally occurs and aren’t part of the main story.)

So to sum up, everything in FE16 outside of CF frames Edelgard as its main antagonist, and even in CF despite some commitment issues the signs of her villainy are still present. Dimitri by contrast is too secondary a character outside AM to ever be a proper antagonist, and too morally undeveloped and tragically framed in them to ever be a villain either.

*While CF Chapter 16′s title, “Lady of Deceit,” superficially refers to Cornelia, there’s some heavy irony in that it could just as easily apply to Edelgard herself considering it contains the most blatant instance of her lying to her supporters. Even before that, the chapter only happens because she feints toward Fhirdiad but secretly plans to besiege Arianrhod instead, to the confusion of several in the playable cast.

[the-odd-job]

Up in Flames chapter 12 - Bring a Little Hell (Ashes Part 2)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Chose Not to Use Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Onslaught Additional Tags: Dubcon, Mechpreg, Sticky Words: 2823

( Previous )

Ratchet remained concerned of his glitch, as was the theme with all of the Autobots. And it did make sense. Some, at least. It was a dangerous thing to toy with, one that landed others in medbay or the recycling yard if it got out of control.

But… Wasn’t it also an unspeakable advantage? He couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten out of sticky situations, won a fight, because of it. That dysfunctional part of him. It made him damn near unstoppable, and sometimes, especially in the Pits and during a goddamned war, that was just what you needed. A little extra gear to beat the fear of Primus into your opposition.

Sometimes beat that into your own side too, though. That was an unfortunate side effect of the whole thing, one the Autobots desperately feared.

The Decepticons? He still couldn’t speak for most of them, but at least he knew what Megatron thought. Megatron didn’t think it was something to concern oneself with, no matter how hazardous the whole thing could be. Megatron just saw it as another tool of destruction, same as a gun, or a sword. To be wielded, not to be feared.

Was it comparable to those, though? Guns and swords were dangerous too, but you needed either someone who was completely out of control—desperate—to make them so, or someone skilled enough to use them right and with enough ill intent to actually put that skill to good use.

What was he? Was he desperate for survival when he unleashed himself, or was he a skilled craftsman of death that only used it as another method to the end of annihilation? 

The Autobots had driven him towards the former with their preaching of total control that didn’t leave any room to lose himself, because doing that would’ve been dangerous and Primus forbid he do anything that carried a risk to others. It was war! Didn’t that account for anything? Were they blind or unwilling to see it for the advantage it was? Were they so preoccupied with just the danger of it, completely disregarding the good it could do when applied right in battle?

It was true he sometimes lost control of himself. Push him far enough, trigger him, and off he was. If others weren’t prepared for it… It could end badly. For them. But he had gotten better about that after who knew how many times of having his coding edited and patched to the extent it could be patched, and from the physical repairs done on his processors—what there was to be done, how much of it could be fixed. He’d never be good as new, he’d never be sane, he’d never lose all of the damage, but he was doing better now.

So what was the issue anymore? Was there a risk that he’d slide right back to the state he was in at the beginning of the war, where he barely had a lucid moment? No one had really said anything about that. Ratchet talked about deterioration, but how far could that progress? Far enough to land him back in square one, or would it stop at some point? Leave him with enough control?

He would have loved to ask Ratchet that, but Ratchet was long gone and he didn’t exactly feel like casually calling an Autobot even if Ratchet likely would have welcomed that. But there was a… Rift, now, thanks to all he’d done. That couldn’t be crossed so easily, and he doubted there was any mending it even if he’d wanted to do that. Him and Ratchet weren’t on the same side anymore. That was that.

Sunstreaker frowned as he stared at the sparring ring of the training room. There was no one else present to interrupt his thoughts. What else had Ratchet said during his visit? About the whole issue of consent? Sunstreaker couldn’t say that was so much as a blip on his radar. It was such an… Inconsequential thing, even if Ratchet had thought it important. Probably most of the Autobots would have considered it important.  

But Megatron hadn’t targeted any other Autobot, he had targeted Sunstreaker. And Sunstreaker came from the same environment as the warlord, where strength was everything and the winner took all. If they wanted to. They spoke the same language, as it was, because that was what the violence they knew was—a language of its own. 

They understood each other, each other’s values and points of view, because they shared most of them. And Sunstreaker couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy that. He couldn’t say didn’t enjoy not being judged—for once—for what he was, what he wasn’t, and what he did, how he thought. He fought Megatron, argued, insulted, but how much did any of that mean? How deep did his hatred of the mech go?

Not very deep, if he was honest with himself. Megatron was a thrill like few other things were, something dangerous and powerful that Sunstreaker got to play around with. That alone warmed Sunstreaker to him quite a bit. It was exciting, not something to hate.  

Didn’t mean he’d start fighting any less, because it wasn’t about how he felt, it was just about the facade he put on, as much as he knew Megatron could see right through it.

And that played a part in why consent wasn’t important. It did sort of exist anyway, didn’t it? It existed in the excitement they both knew was there, that his frame always wound up displaying no matter how his vocalizer spat fire and denied everything. They both knew he wanted it, so what did it matter if he tried to deny it?

If he one day meant it, genuinely didn’t want it? As unlikely as he saw that to be… Megatron was stronger. He’d proven that much several times over. If he could take it, thanks to his strength… Well, it was his at that point. It was no deeper than that, and Sunstreaker knew well what it meant and what it would leave to him. Definitely not the control of the situation.

But that was just part of the fun. He couldn’t imagine suddenly changing his mind about that. 

Ratchet wouldn’t get it. He didn’t understand the way things just were, or, had been, in the Pits. In Kaon in general. Survival of the fittest defined the city, and its residents hadn’t suddenly changed the values imprinted in them by their home just because they’d left it to wage war. The culture remained—warped by time and battles by now, but still possessing its core. 

It was just how things were, and Sunstreaker hadn’t minded that in a long time.

He didn’t need to look or scan who it was when the door opened to admit someone. Sideswipe walked up next to him, their fields merging. From Sunstreaker’s thoughts it followed that Sideswipe didn’t much give a damn about the situation either—though, granted, Sideswipe rarely gave a damn about anything. He really was too easygoing for anyone’s good. Even now he was wearing his signature smile, a light smirk, the corners of his mouth drawn up even though he had nothing in particular to smile about. 

The Pits had taken his smile, once upon a time, but he’d regained it with sheer perseverance. Sunstreaker doubted anything could ever again take it from him. Not after it had gotten tested by the hell they’d gone through, only to return.

Sideswipe had gotten used to things. At the end of it, he had been little different than he was at the beginning. It was Sunstreaker who hadn’t handled all of it so gracefully. He may have survived the city, but the Pits were the city cranked up to eleven, and that he’d been wholly unprepared for. He’d come out at the other side with permanent damage, but… Stronger for it. No? 

And now… Things had changed, again. The Pits had valued the likes of him, berserkers. The Autobots had not. He wasn’t an Autobot anymore. Megatron saw it as a good thing.  

What did Sunstreaker think?

He wasn’t sure. Not yet. 

Sideswipe caught him by a servo and tugged him to the training ring. And yeah, why not? If he wanted to use it as the weapon Megatron thought of it as, he would need to know his limits. He would need to learn how to wield it, instead of just succumbing to it because he’d been told that was all he could allow himself. Don’t glitch, just don’t glitch—but why?

Why wouldn’t he?

Sparring with Sideswipe was what it always was, dancing, no gaining an upper hand. Did it have to be like that, though? It was their spark that broadcasted their every move, every intent to its twin half, feeding them the constant knowledge of what the other was even thinking about doing. With that knowledge, they could nullify all of it, and nullify the other’s nullification… But their frames were identical. Equal in strength, equal in speed. They could be locked in their stalemate for good; there was no advantage one had over the other.

Unless.

His spark disconnected from his processors when he lost it. It wouldn’t know what his frame was doing, thinking, planning. It would have nothing to feed to its other half.

Sideswipe wouldn’t know a damn thing of what his frame was about to do, beyond what his skill as a warrior would allow him to read.

And… It was the end of their physical equality, too.

He’d beat Sideswipe, there was never a question of it. He did it every time. But it was always… Out of control. He’d go over the top, leave his brother a bloody mess, even if he never landed the killing blow because even at the height of it, his fragging frame knew better. Sideswipe’s death would be the end of it too, and it wasn’t out to commit suicide.

No, it was all self-preservation gone wrong, over the top. Keep itself alive, except everything was a threat to be obliterated. Point him in the right direction and he might even hit the enemy, but just as easily he could turn against his own side. There was no sense of friend or foe in it.

Could he flirt with the edge? How close could he push himself without falling? 

Sideswipe was studying him, barely glancing away from his optics—relying on his sensors and their spark to guide him through every countered or dodged attack, instead of his sight. Sunstreaker knew his suggestion.

Why not try? Test it out? See how close he could go, and if he fell… Well. That happened sometimes. Sideswipe was ready for it.

And the sparklet, nothing would happen to it even if he tried this. It wasn’t as if any of it affected his spark, only his frame and its connection to said spark. And if his spark was fine, so would the sparkling be.

But he could feel its curiosity. Both at the fight that wasn’t really a fight at all with how they flowed around and against each other, faster, faster, but never reaching a tipping point. It was examining the way his spark moved in its casing to enable that, the feedback from his brother, how that felt.

How it felt to be one.

It would never get to experience that feeling for itself, but like this… If anything, it would come the closest out of anyone to understanding how their split spark functioned, just because of the way it connected to his spark half for now. It could observe, examine. And it did.

It only did twice so when Sunstreaker began to loosen his iron control of himself. It was never a matter of if he could glitch.

It was just about letting go. A relief, really, to stop fighting it, stop the eternal, damned struggle of keeping his wits about himself.

Sideswipe was watching him closely, and through him Sunstreaker knew his optics paled. And the usual—the forever whispers grew louder, shadows began to dance at the edges of his vision. Feeling, as if someone was touching him, but Sideswipe wasn’t, not there. Phantom readings on his scanners as his mind slipped further.

He could feel the edge of a disaster in the making, but he didn’t tip over. He didn’t allow himself, but… It got more difficult. Like a snowball rolling down a hill, it gathered more momentum and size the longer he allowed it to go on, the closer he inched towards the point where he knew he’d snap.

How long could he play it?

How long could he remember why he was still fighting it?

They had an audience by now, mecha curious of their so called sparring. Although, it wasn’t as fluent as it had been. His movement lost some of its grace. He knew that much, even without the change in Sideswipe’s experience of what they were doing, how they were doing it.

He knew, too, that the output of his frame was slowly ramping up, in time with the further loss of thought. It wasn’t the catastrophic crash into superiority, but a slow march towards it anyway, and at some point… Eventually, it would become inevitable, reach a point where he wouldn’t be able to stop it anymore.

But what about this? Was he doomed to that the moment he started down that path, or could he gain some of the benefits without all of the downsides?

“Twins,” someone said, closer to the ring than everyone else. Sideswipe disengaged from him and rallied their spark until Sunstreaker could draw himself closer to the surface, fight down the ghosts that wanted to rise—enough so, at least, that the noise in his audials died down enough for him to make sense of his surroundings. His vision still wavered, but… A little more grounded, that was all he asked from himself right then.

Sideswipe waited on him, always his steady reality check. This time too Sunstreaker had to rely on his perspective more than his own, knowing his frame’s experience was… Compromised. 

He still turned to look despite the fog on his mind. Onslaught. The Combaticon leader was glancing between him, his look as calculating as always. 

After a moment of silence that was never silence to Sunstreaker, Onslaught made the right call of addressing Sideswipe rather than him. “Could I spar with him?”

Sideswipe considered him for a second before he straightened the rest of the way and tilted his helm. “You know the risk, yeah? What he’s doing?”

“I do.”

Sideswipe grinned. “Then the stage is all yours, my mech. Curious to see how this goes.”

With that his brother exited the ring and joined the spectators. Onslaught entered the ring in his stead, and Sunstreaker turned to look at him after a delay of fighting himself. His conscious thoughts ran sluggish, trudging through thigh deep mud. But Onslaught didn’t question him or his ability to fight still.

Instead he just attacked.

And as hindered as Sunstreaker’s thoughts were, nothing was wrong with his reflexes, or indeed, his battle protocols. Those worked on overdrive, and he’d blocked Onslaught’s attack and delivered one of his own before his higher processes even caught up. His senses were addled, and for the life of him he didn’t know if that remained true when he did go all the way berserk. He never gained any memories to learn that from.

But probably not, because this was difficulty level hardcore. He managed fine when he fully glitched, judging by the destruction he left in his wake, but right now it was a race to separate the hallucinations of a broken mind from the physical reality. 

Downsides, upsides. Benefits, drawbacks. His frame ran hot, but his failsafes weren’t down all the way. He couldn’t trust his senses, could barely think straight, and this wasn’t just a mild case of that.

This was true hindrance.

So, no, flirting with the edge wasn’t worth it. 

What about jumping off of it? He knew what would follow that.

Did he want to, right now, or would he rather claw his way back to sanity? Did he even have that option anymore?

Sideswipe’s presence was solid as ever, strengthening his own half of their spark, but even so the connection between that and his frame was painfully tenuous, and it wasn’t getting better. He didn’t have… Enough conscious processing power left to push it all back down. Gather it up, lock it away. Self-control.

That was a hard thing to come by, sometimes.

All or nothing, then. There was no useful in between. 

And right now, that nothing was no longer achievable. His only direction was down—all in.

Time to see if Onslaught had what it took, as Megatron did. ::Ready, set, go,:: Sideswipe commed the Combaticon, and that was the last thing Sunstreaker was aware of before he let go.

( Next )

[skyfireflight]

Runaan and Viren: A Comparison

Viren gets a lot of flak for his actions, and rightfully so.

But I remember thinking, after watching season 1, that Runaan and Viren would be pretty much the same people (Runaan being like Viren, and Viren being like Runaan) if they were on the opposite side and their roles were switched. And if not completely the same people, at least very close to it.

You're free to disagree with me, of course, but I'm going to put my thoughts about it here.

They're pretty similar already:

1) Viren: A "pragmatist"

Runaan: Has a heart that's "hard enough to do whatever it takes"

2) Viren: Willing to kill children for the sake of protecting his kingdom (a more tangible cause)

Runaan: Willing to kill children for the sake of justice (an ideological cause)

3) Viren: Willing to sacrifice his own children if necessary, putting the mission first

Runaan: Willing to kill Rayla, who is like a daughter to him, if necessary, putting the mission first

4) Viren: Sent out his child (Soren) to kill other children (Callum and Ezran)

Runaan: Brought along a child (Rayla) to help kill another child (Ezran)

5) Viren: Willing to sacrifice himself, or the life of another soldier, to save Harrow with minimal deaths

Runaan: Willing to sacrifice himself and/or his team members for his mission, but would prefer to do it with minimal deaths

6) Viren: Killed guards to avoid capture

Runaan: Willing to kill a guard to avoid detection, killed guards on his way to assassinate Harrow

And if you hear them talk, they even have similar demeanors.

The only big differences I see between Runaan and Viren are

1) Viren's willingness to lie

2) Runaan's qualms with dark magic and with trapping people's souls in objects.

Though one could argue that Runaan masking himself and his team members as trees was a lie, in a way.

So, Runaan does have a few more lines he's unwilling to cross than Viren does.

Though I do wonder if that's nature or nurture.

After all, the culture Runaan was raised in is very strict about oaths and honesty. And the elves in general are taught to think of dark magic as evil, but humans are not taught this.

You could also point out that Runaan doesn't "take lives lightly," but I would argue that Viren doesn't take them lightly either. And I think their different approaches to this has a lot to do with their different job positions.

Runaan is an assassin. He's called for a job, kills his target, and then goes home, and he doesn't have to think about it afterwards.

Viren doesn't get to "go home". He lives at the castle. His home is his job. When Harrow was alive, Viren was constantly at his side, advising him and trying to help the kingdom and humanity. Now, helping Katolis, and the rest of humanity, is still his job. And it's not a one-and-done deal; it's something he has to be constantly thinking about.

Runaan's cause, at least for this mission, was justice, and he was willing to do what was necessary for the sake of this cause. And since it's not a continuous job, he has to jump the "these lives are not taken lightly" hurdle each time.

Viren's cause is helping his kingdom and protecting humanity, and he's willing to do what is necessary for the sake of this cause. Though he doesn't give a big speech about "not taking lives lightly" and only doing what was necessary, I think it's because by now, years into his position, he doesn't need to. He's already jumped that hurdle. He's already told himself, "This is my job, and I must to what is necessary, whatever it takes, to do my job." And he doesn't have to do this each time, like Runaan does, because he's never left his job. There is no "each time." The first time never stopped.

And Runaan's job is just in the present, but with Viren's job, he has to think about and plan for both the present and the future. He has to think about "what can be useful to help Katolis and humanity years down the road? What possible future problems (famine, war, epidemics, etc.) do I need to prepare solutions for?" And plan ahead accordingly.

So, putting people's souls in coins? Objectively horrible, yes. But also, in Viren's eyes, though maybe not necessary for the present, it may prove necessary for something in the future.

The creators have said that Runaan is an earnest person. So, if Runaan had the same position as Viren, I think he would at first be more honest and upfront in his methods than Viren.

But if honest and upfront didn't work? And then didn't work, and didn't work, and kept not working? I think Runaan, with his "heart that is hard enough to do whatever it takes," would feel he has to try darker methods, including lying. Would he go as far as Viren (trapping people's souls in coins, something he called Viren a monster for), and get to the same place Viren is now? I think he might, eventually; he would just need a much bigger push.

Part of Viren's actions also, as has been mentioned by others, is the result Viren's own insecurities and feelings of uselessness. And that is, I think, where his little sadistic streak comes from (like how Viren was gloating about Runaan's defiance turning into fear once he was trapped in the coin). With his own feelings of uselessness, whenever Viren is able to hold power and prove his power over an opponent (like making them fear him), it's reasonable to think that it's going to make him feel better about himself. That he'd be gleeful about it, in a "Yes! Victory!" kind of way.

But if Viren was in Runaan's position, a Moonshadow assassin? I think he wouldn't have those insecurities and feelings of uselessness. He would have inner primal magic as a source of power, for one, so no need to stock up on ingredients for dark magic; not to mention he would have been taught that dark magic was evil.

Plus, with his job being "kill the target as quickly as possible and go home," not having to think about solving future kingdom-wide, race-wide problems, he wouldn't have the same immense pressure looming over him as he does now, and neither the time nor need to gloat over those he overpowered.

Being raised in Moonshadow culture, too, would reinforce his earnest side that we know he has. And an assassin's job, at least for this mission, is pretty straight forward, and the rest of his team knows what they're getting into. No need to lie to his team members.

I think the situation with Rayla would have gone the same way, too. Runaan found a way to at first keep Rayla out of harm's way, telling both her and himself that she wasn't necessary to the mission and would only be a hindrance. Then, when faced with the possible necessity of killing her, Runaan found an out for that as well, realizing he could just leave their fight and finish the other half of the mission.

Viren loves his children, but just like Runaan, he's putting the mission first. And he didn't outright tell Claudia to choose the Dragon Prince egg over Soren until she brought it up. But there was still an out; choosing Soren over the egg was only for if there was no other option. So, if it were Viren in Runaan's position, I believe he would have found the same outs for Rayla, as well.

Feel free to add to this, or offer counterpoints.

@beautifulterriblequeen @feral-anarchy @random-fandom-ramble @true-neutral-earth-elf

[funkymbtifiction]

I’ve been going back and forth between infp and isfj for ages (bought books, scrolled through your blog endlessly) but your recent infp post gave me pause.

‘INFPs have trouble wrapping their head around what most of the other types “settle for” – finding a job that pays the rent, even if it’s crap, and doing what you love (like write) in your spare time as a hobby. Their idealism and need to do what they love for work makes it hard for them to cope with the idea that realistically, that may not work out.’

I could barely relate to that. Even when I think I can incorporate my creative side I’m very realistic about it. I could be a hairdresser at a friend’s salon but I’m very sensitive to smells and have horrible allergies. I wonder if Ne would instantly be trying to figure out ways around that not just be ‘yeah, that’s off the table’. I’m a (almost forced) problem solver and do try to find loopholes in things but that’s more fear based than anything else ( that sounds so 6 XD ). Plus I keep wondering if I followed my passions as a career would that kill my joy of them. Would business and deadlines kill the creativity? Would people even like and respond to it (this ways heavily on me. The fear of disappointment and rejection).

Add a critical view of my talents and I’m going ‘settling’ is more than okay since you need to survive and keeping passions alive is needed as well so find time to do that during the day. Make it the best part of your day. A reward for making it through and if you can make some money from it then great.

Long story short if someone can’t relate to that is it a red flag that you’re not infp or you can be and my Ne decided to send me down rabbit holes - again.

Since everyone is different, you will relate to some things about your type and not others, and you can always factor in your Enneagram type (being a 6 tends to make people less risk-taking, more concerned with how others feel about them / considerate of others in general, and more practical) … but ultimately, you should be able to recognize your dominant function given your blind spots (lower functions). Being unable to detach from their strong need to do what they want to do, and not do what they don’t want to do, is an issue for INFPs. Most of the ones I know either work for less money, or took a pay cut, to leave a job that makes them miserable in order to do one that fulfills them in some way. The ISFJs learn the system they are working with, and do it, because there is no Fi-dom need in them to be “authentic” to themselves, and their stronger Si is aware that some jobs are boring. That’s life.

Given that nothing you said here has a strong sense of “I see things through how I feel about them,” and that still bleeds through even with 6s, I’d say you have your judging axis in the middle of your stack rather than at opposite ends. Your careful, meticulous questioning suggests perception > judgment. That would support ISFJ, if you are sure of being an introvert.

I suggest reading the “learn mbti page” and reading all the dominant function posts carefully. An INFP should somewhat relate to the ENP post (at least in the sense of “yes, that’s how I am… fanatical with an interest and then it disappears… and I no longer care about it… I want to change the world with my ideas / idealism / beliefs…”) AND the IFP post. IFPs are rather famous for shutting down anything they don’t want to talk about, whereas IFJs are more willing to discuss it, as perceiving dominants (less instant NOPE). If you are an ISFJ, you should somewhat relate to the Fe-dom post (in terms of seeing others in terms of “we” and wanting an emotional consensus, for others to agree with you, etc) and also Si (in your own interests, points of expertise, and the way you learn).

Just an example – I know two artists. One is an INFP, the other is an ISFJ. The ISFJ, being a Si-dom, is willing to meticulously work on one area of her art, until it is perfect. Si-dom artists are the ones who create the teachable art books, which tell you to keep drawing an eye until it’s perfect, then learn the nose, and so on… in so doing, their meticulous repetition establishes a base of learning that is an ‘expert’ not just in fingers or toes, but all elements of the face, and then of the body. That is Si learning. Methodical. You do it over and over, until you get it perfect. You learn it a piece at a time, to make the whole.

The INFP artist refused to use the book that taught drawing techniques through that repetition, since “I don’t WANT to draw that way.” She refused to use any books at all. She had to do it her own way. She drew for awhile. Then she made / decorated fandom hats. Then she painted doll faces. Then she went into sewing. She doesn’t really use patterns, either, that much. She just  looks at it, draws a design based on what she knows she wants, and makes up her own pattern to get it to do that (often just by eyeballing it, cutting it, and then moving fabric around). Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But she did not methodically learn to draw. She moved on to making Rey’s staff for Cosplay, used it for awhile, then sold it and went on to Victorian stuff. Because as an NP… she loses interest and moves on to other things. ;)

Low Si finds repetition boring and just tends to intuitively leap into things. So, for example, they may be a gifted writer with zero awareness of how writing as a technique (grammar, sentence structure, avoiding certain words at the ends of sentences) actually works – and they may not even care, until it in some way impedes them getting published. Then they will learn too much all at once, in the process skim-reading / not learning it properly, and missing half of it, as opposed to the ISFJ writer who carefully studies writing techniques, reads 20 books on writing by successful novelists, does the practice work, and then has all the knowledge in place to move forward and do it.

Not everyone is going to do this, obviously, but I’m illustrating how SiNe is much more methodical in how they learn something, vs how NeSi just haphazardly does it – often well, but it neglects learning the important fundamentals, and then later has to go back and fill in gaps in its knowledge.

- ENFP Mod

[deceits-left-glove]

Oh

My god.

I just found a really old logicality one-shot I made when I was very very very new in the fandom and dear god- I didn't think there was a time i wasn't a Janus Stan but here we are I guess

°•.•°•.•°•.

Patton PoV

As long as I could remember, I'd had a  tattoo on  my wrist. It was a cute little pair of glasses! My soulmark. There would be one other person in the world with that same pair of glasses on the same spot on their wrist! The thought had always made me giddy. There is someone out there destined to be with me, we've been looking at the same little picture all our lives! Like a secret museum just for us! Whenever I went out in public I would always look for peoples wrists. I didn't think about how weird it was until someone pointed it out to me. I didn't do it anymore after that. I was just scared of missing my soulmate! Imagine if you never found your soulmate! Knowing that you were destined to be with someone, and spending your whole life looking for that person, and then... I don't want to think about it. I was so so happy when I found out I needed glasses! I chose ones that looked like my soulmark, obviously! Then if my soulmate looks at my glasses, they would be reminded of their soulmark.  I was on my way to the cafe to meet up with my three best friends. Logan, Roman and Virgil! I was scared I was going to be late so I was running. My cardigan fell off and I had to go back to get it. It was around my shoulders, as usual. It was cold outside, but I hated covering up my soulmark! And hate is a strong word. I just thought that if my soulmate had their mark covered, then  them seeing mine could be the only way to find out. So I almost never covered it up. I was just glad  my cardigan didn't fall into a puddle! 

Logan PoV.

as long as I could remember, I'd had a tattoo on my wrist. A pair of glasses. It was my soulmark. I despised it. It was honestly a flawed method of finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You could end up being the opposite of compatible. You could constantly argue and that would be an unhealthy relationship. I just think the whole thing is a falsehood. How can a mutated birthmark show the person you are going to be in a relationship with. It makes no sense and I just ignore  the whole... Mess entirely. I have never intentionally shown anyone  my soulmark and I never hope to in the future. It will always be covered, if not by a shirt then by that concealing makeup. I refuse to acknowledge my consentless tattoo other than when hiding it. I disregard it that much that when I was choosing my glasses, I found some particular frames rather familiar and  didn't realize why until I was at home with too pairs of the same glasses. That was one of the few times I have face-palmed in my life. The other times are normally when  Roman or Patton do something stupid. Like now, where I can see Roman at the counter trying to take three cups at once. I sometimes wonder how they are still alive. Probably because they usually have Virgil and I to reel them in from doing something overly dangerous. Like now, when i can see Virgil going over there to help him out with the other cups. With a ding from the shops bell, I watch Patton run through the door, hastily tying his cardigan around his shoulders. 

Patton PoV

I rush through the door and meet Logan's eyes. I smile at him and go over to our regular table. I felt other eyes on me, but that was probably me almost running into the door in my hurry to get to my friends. I pull out  my chair and sit down opposite him. 

"Hi!"

"Hello."

"I told you you couldn't pick up all our drinks at once!" Virgil (that was the 666th word. I thought it would have been another character tbh ;) ) and Roman  come over from the counter, each holding two cups. Roman has a  chocolate milk and a  black coffee, and Virgil has a  mocha and  a hot chocolate. 

"I would have been fine!"

"Romano, buddy... you only have two hands." Virgil hands the hot chocolate to me from his seat, but Roman walks round to give Logan his drink. But there was someone walking past and -im sill not sure how it happened- Roman  tripped, spilling the coffee all over it's the guy who was ment to receive it (logan). Oh no! 

Deceit PoV (yea that's right! boom!)

From the moment I saw Patton pull out his chair I new what I had to do. He used his left hand. And on his left wrist was a pair of glasses. Just. Like. Logan's. I knew that wimp wouldn't do anything. When I saw his wrist he got all defensive. It's not like I did it on purpose! Jeez. Roman  carrying the drink round just made my job even easier- I didn't even have to waste my drink! I stood up and knocked  into him, and in an 'attempt to steady him' I pushed the drink out of his hand and onto Logan's left arm. Simple. He would either have to roll his sleeve up or take off his shirt- it was unbuttoned and he had a vest on, don't worry readers, I'm not making him strip (oi shut it you! Be grateful I added you into the story! Don't go turning into Deadpool) . Sure, I look like the bad guy, but I'm helping them, whether they realise it or not! 

"The Empire has fallen!" Virgil sweetie, as funny as that was... Leave the puns to Patton. He knows there's a time and a place. This isn't it.

"Ooh ya-"

"Logan! Are you ok?" At this point I can see the barista run around the counter with a cold cloth. He will be fine, just a little angry. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I've got to pretend to be at least a little remorseful. I can't look like a complete villain!  Then I lean closer to Logan and hiss in his ear  "you're welcome!" He knew what I ment. I  kept on walking to the bathroom so that it didn't look suspicious, and to stop  Logan from going in there to sort out his arm. This was fun. I should help people With their Soulmates more often.

Logan PoV

That snake! Why did he do that! He knows full well how I feel about my soulmark and he is making me show it for no reason! I should never have trusted him with something like that! 

"You're welcome!" What? Why would he say that. I'm stronger than him. I can show my soulmark just this once, nothing bad is going to happen, right? I roll my sleeve up and  take the damp cloth Remy is  handing to me. 

"Well he was rude.. anyway! lo, are you like, good? That was some hot coffee, girl!"

"Don't call me lo, or girl. And you don't need the 'like' in there."

"That's the Logan I know! At least it had no, like, permanent side effects!"

"What does that even mean? It's coffee! Not a potion!" 

"What do you mean by  'potion' ?" I'm not even listing to the conversation anymore. Patton is staring at the table and looking  distressed. Before I can ask, he blurts out 

"GLASSES!" He now has almost all of the shops attention. I take off my glasses to check if something has happened to them when he slams his arm down on the table, making all of us jump. Then Remy squeals. Drawing even more attention and confusing me even more. Then I notice Patton has a mark on his arm. It looks like a tattoo. His glasses? Wait. Oh..

I don't think he was looking at the table. 

°•.•°•.•°•.

This is my first one-shot and overall I'm happy with it. And I don't really know what else to put here.. so.. 

~Cyan 🖤

°•.•°•.•°•.

bonus scene (3rd person)

Patton is babbling nonsense, Logan is flushed and completely unresponsive, Remy reluctantly hands a very smug Virgil 5 dollars and Roman keeps repeating something under his breath. Deceit  comes back from the bathroom, struts up to the table like he owns the place and just

"You're welcome~*" 

And then Roman, slamming his hands on the table and screeching.

"SEE IT'S JUST LIKE A DISNEY FILM!"

°•.•°•.•°•.

3.9 pages 

1435 words

°•.•°•.•°•.

O O F

First person PoV! I outright talked to Deceit! He didn't even get a name! I'm going to regret posting this but growth is important y'all!

[meny-sempai]

MO DAO ZU SHI IS A MASTERPIECE – part 04

Hey guys!

First of all:

How is it possible that there are only 19 votes for this? Jeez…

This week’s newsflash!

Quote from the novel:

“Every day when Wei Wuxian was free, he played with the toddler Wen Yuan, son of Wen Qing’s cousin. He either let him hang on trees or buried him in the ground, fooling him that he’d grow faster if he was watered and bathed in sunlight… Turning around, though, he realized that Wen Yuan was gone. He almost turned pale, searching for the toddler all along the streets. Suddenly, he heard the wails of a child, and he immediately rushed over…

…

Wei WuXian, “Do you want one?”

Wen Yuan thought that he was going to buy one for him. He spoke embarrassedly, “Yeah.”

Yet, Wei WuXian walked in the opposite direction, “Haha, let’s go.”” (ch74)

Wei Wuxian, my son, you are so adorably horrible at parenting. Do keep it up. AND. If you think I’m not gonna use this in my favour, you’re wrong:

“Wei WuXian laughed madly, “Hahahahaha! Lan Zhan, congratulations! He’s taken a liking to you! He hugs the leg of whoever he likes, and he never lets go.”” (ch74)

“Jiang Cheng didn’t know when, but a child about one or two years old crept over and hugged his leg. Raising his chubby chin, he looked up at him with his dark, round eyes.” (ch73)

My boy JC = instant like. The children know.

Aaand that’s a wrap, see you guys next time!

… You wish. Let’s get started!

Before I begin I’ll just repeat this for the new readers:

I’m not a native English speaker so please bear with the mistakes I’m bound to make. I did read the novel, but only as far as the Exiled Rebels Scanlations translated it (thank you Rebels, you’re gods). I know a lot of spoilers, but I can’t say I know the whole story – If I start theorising be aware that I’m just theorising, I’m not actually telling the plot, but, just to be sure: SPOILERS ahead, I will use the facts I know for my analysis.

In this short series I’ll talk about the episodes, but I’ll also have long monologs about a certain topic.

EPISODE 07 – or, man I hate the Wens but I LOVE that theme music of theirs

… Has anyone ever told you the story about the boy who cried wolf?

And half of the fandom just died in the most satisfying death. I love how he just took a glance at the tables and was like: Nope, I’m not having any of this shit. And I’ll be theatrical and dramatic about it for all to see.

Remember what I said in one of my posts about the clans - how they don’t seem to be willing to play as a team and mostly watch their own? I think there’s a lot of truth in this and I suppose this is one of the reasons why the Wens grew so much in power. Nie sect obviously has a grudge against the Wens and wants to act on it. Now that Nie Mingjue is old enough he could do it. In theory. But without the assistance of other sects it would be suicidal. Was that why the Wens left Nie Mingjue and his brother alive after they killed their father? Did they know the other sects wouldn’t be willing to lift their fingers for the Nie? We can assume they didn’t react to the murder of Nie Mingjue’s father, so why would they help the Nie in revenge?

From my POV and understanding this advice of Lan Qiren should be pissing the hell out of Nie Mingjue. He is telling him to suck it up. Yes, for the sake of his clan, but also, because any kind of mess like this is endangering the other sects. Other sects chose to keep to themselves, so the advice is also: You do this, man - you’re alone.

On the other hand, this sentence can be also seen as how Lan Qiren himself feels. We saw him being enraged by the Wen clan because they let the Waterbound Abyss in their territory. But he can’t voice out his dissatisfaction, because he himself is sucking it up for his sect. If we see it that way, he’s basically saying: Even if we both riot it would be a suicide (Because, you see that yellow prick behind you? He’s not gonna help us and he’s the richest of us all. Jiangs are playing friends with them, they want to be family. We can’t count on any other help.)

And Lan Qiren is right. Nothing happened after Cloud Recesses was vandalized.

I don’t think the four big sects trust each other very much. The Wen sect actually brought them all together with all the shit they did. But teaming up happened mostly because the young ones took over.

I don’t even think they like each other. Which is kinda expected – they are all very different - their origin, mentality, temper, code, cultivation method. It’s actually funny how the Gusu Lan and the Nie are showing the first signs of teaming up since they are completely different in everything.

Instant confirmation to both Nie Mingjue and Lan Qiren. If you are understanding the scene like I described it, this guy laughing after what Lan Qiren said gets a whole new meaning. UGH. I don’t know why, but I really like the sound of his voice. Ugh…

And now we get the Jiang’s POV. The leader of the Jiang doesn’t care about the sitting arrangements (about the current situation of the sects). For him, the way things are, everything is already settled and can’t be changed in the present situation. What he cares about is THE FUTURE. Who will come after Wen Ruohan? Considering we know how deeply Jiangs value their family we can assume Jiang Fengmian is only thinking of how all of this will affect his children. Especially the future leader of Jiang.

What if? Jiang Fengmian always talks about the clan’s moto, he cherishes the “attempt the impossible”. But he himself is a very mild mannered man who doesn’t seem to have accomplished anything “amazing” in his years. And the way he acts could be seen as “weak” – he “accepts” the Wen sect, he “accepts” the wife’s anger, he “accepts” the marriage, he “accepts” the betrayal of his servant and friend. He is actually… very similar to Jiang Cheng.

What if the reason he’s being so strict and emotionless towards his son is because, in his way, he’s trying to make his son a better man than himself. Attempt the impossible/be like Wei Wuxian – don’t be like me. The future is bleak, and as a leader, you, my son, my heir, you can’t be like me.

Once again, MDZS makes a fabulous scene out of nothing.

Not at all.

My god, I love the dialog in this. Also, remember what I rambled about Wen Xu? Could this also be a hint? Did the sect leaders maybe hope to see him there? Instead, they got an untalented punk – worse than his father.

I’m sorry, for some reason I always laugh like an idiot during this exchange. I don’t know what it is that makes this scene so hilarious to me. Please, someone explain it to me.

He’s so precious!

Ah… JC, we meet again. I’ll talk about this moment down below. Just, remember it.

*squealing from love and insufferable pain*

JC: “Let’s split into two groups, then gather at the exit later.”

WWX: “Hey, where the hell are you leading me to?” (smiling)

JC: “Stop complaining! Just follow me.” BAM

WWX: “How about we go back the way we came? Rest assured. I definitely won’t tell anyone.” (teasing)

JC: “Just shut up, will you!” BAM

WWX: “Ahahahaha! Jiang Cheng.”

JC: “What now?”

WWX: “Look.”

I laughed my ass off the first two times I watched this. The third time… I noticed something.

Jiang Cheng takes the lead the moment the archery tournament starts, as an heir should. He gives out orders and goes into “follow me” mode. He has a path in mind, this strange and hard path looks right to him. He has a gut feeling he’s right in his decisions and he follows his gut. Wei Wuxian questions the plan like any of us would if someone started to drag us through “tight spots” for no reason. He questions him but he follows him nevertheless. I don’t think he even questions him for real, I think he’s just having fun watching his brother plays leader. And that’s one of the problems. Jiang Cheng is not playing. He’s trying to prove himself. This is his chance. So, when Wei Wuxian pokes fun at him he snaps like he usually does, but this time there is also an injury. Their conversation and Wei Wuxian’s comments hurt. Hence the head bumps. You can clearly see the change in Jiang Cheng’s expression after the first bump. He’s not so decisive anymore. He actually looks sad as if he’s starting to question his decisions too. But he can’t back down now so he just keeps going. And the smart-ass Wei Wuxian knows his brother too well. From his next comment we can see that he figured out what is bothering Jiang Cheng and as any decent sibling he pokes at it. Of course, Wei Wuxian doesn’t mean any harm, he’s just playing like the brothers always do. JC says some harsh things to Wei Wuxian too, it’s all part of being siblings. Sure, Wei Wuxian makes comments, but he still follows. He’s not even truly questioning anything, he’s annoying, but he completely trusts JC’s lead. He never thought of leaving his side, not even during “tight spots”.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t get hurt because of what Wei Wuxian says, he knows Wei Wuxian is probably the only one who doesn’t and won’t ever mean any of it. And that’s the biggest problem. Jiang Cheng believes in Wei Wuxian, he believes in WWX’s love for him, he trusts Wei Wuxian, but he doesn’t trust others. When someone says similar things that Wei Wuxian would jokingly say to him, Jiang Cheng can’t ignore it. Why? Because the same things have been said to him by the people who should love you the most. When your mother is always attacking your brother and saying you’re a fool to love him, when she is constantly dissatisfied with you and even says things like:

“You really are an idiot. I’ve told you long ago that you’ll never in your whole life be able to surpass the one sitting beside you. Not over cultivation, not over night-hunting, even over shooting kites, you can’t surpass him! … Your mom tells you countless times not to fool around with him, yet you’re still defending him. Just how did I give birth to a son like you?!” (ch51)

When your father never acknowledges you, when your parents are fighting because you’re not good enough, how do you feel? Wouldn’t any kind of comment affect you? Wouldn’t hearing that you’re worse at archery than some guy who missed the whole target hurt you? (But, they’re fighting because of Wei Wuxian and his mom, not because of JC.) Sure. But, would that be such a big problem if Jiang Cheng was as good as Wei Wuxian? If he was as good, wouldn’t that make his mother as good as the other woman? Wouldn’t that make his father love them equally? Besides, what child doesn’t think it’s his fault their parents “don’t love each other”?

“Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”

At that time, Wei WuXian didn’t know what Jiang Cheng was mad about at all. After a pause, he replied, “I didn’t steal anything. It’s Uncle Jiang who told me to sleep with you.”

Hearing that he was still bringing up his father, almost as if he was purposely showing off, Jiang Cheng’s eyes reddened as he yelled, “Go away! If I see you again, I’ll call a bunch of dogs to bite you!””(ch71)

This scene ripped my heart to shreds. Poor WWX, so confused and scared. Poor JC. Yes, this, THIS is jealousy. A full blown toxic jealousy attack, but there is also a lot to be read between the lines. Why is he exploding like this out of the blue? He was ready to forgive the fact that they’ve taken his only friends away from him. He was ready to share the room with the person for whom he had to give up his dogs. So why? He’s a child and he’s jealous, but is that really it? You know, seeing your father hugging someone should not be a trigger. It’s not normal to compare yourself just because of that. There has to be more, more unspoken reasons why someone would instantly compare oneself with someone. JC is someone who puts up with a lot of shit without saying anything – such people tend to explode for “no reason”. Realizing he’s been hugged only five times is the last straw.

When a very young child is unsure of whether his father loves him – you, as a parent, are doing something wrong. When a child is so afraid that his mistakes will make his father not like him even more – you have a very insecure child. An insecure child/person has a very low opinion of himself.

“Looking at Wei WuXian’s legs, Jiang Cheng’s face was full of nervousness. If any other disciple or servant learned about this and told Jiang FengMian, after Jiang FengMian knew how he threw Wei WuXian’s sheets out and made him hurt his leg, Jiang FengMian would definitely dislike him even more. This was also why he only dared chase after them alone and didn’t get anyone else.

Seeing how worried he seemed, Wei WuXian took the initiative, “Relax. I won’t tell Uncle Jiang. I only hurt myself because I suddenly wanted to climb a tree last night.”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng sighed in relief. He swore, “You can relax as well. Anytime I see a dog, I’ll chase it away for you!”” (ch71)

I do believe this was the beginning of the ultimate trust. Also, after his jealousy attack, JC immediately realized what he did and felt bad. Yes, he was afraid of his father, but I do not believe for a second that that has any significance in his love for Wei Wuxian.

“Jiang YanLi put Wei Wuxian onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him. You ran out here and didn’t go back for a long time. I came to find you only because he’s worried that something happened to you and went to wake me up.””(ch71)

I love A Li, I’ll talk about her more later. She’s a great sister, but she does sometimes unintentionally do things that are unfair to Jiang Cheng (don’t attack me, wait for the next post for the elaboration). In this particular scene she was amazing. She didn’t get mad at JC (out of all the people he trusted her to bring back Wei Wuxian and don’t tell father about his mistake – that’s love). She carried them both (which is a nice contrast to Jiang Fengmian who carried only Wei Wuxian in the scene before). She tended to JC’s wounds from falling into the pit and encouraged him to say sorry. She. Was. Great.

But, let’s address one more thing. What does she mean by JC not having a good temper? What kind of a bad temper can a child have to not be able to have friends? Older JC is stiff and grumpy, but he does have friends in his sect and other people want to be his friends (Nie Huaisang for example).When you doubt your own worth, you can’t trust people to like you. Being around people can be hard. Being around dogs that have unconditional love for you can be very easy. It’s pleasant. I think Princess, Jasmine, and Love were healing his soul (like dogs often do) and taking them away was way more tragic from JC’s POV than it seems. No wonder he was wailing.

It’s funny how Wei Wuxian is afraid of dogs, but has so much unconditional love in him for his family.

I’ll talk about Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng more – the juicy episodes are coming. I’ll just say this: I really admire both of them. It would have been so damn easy for those two to hate each other’s guts, but they just don’t. And, yes, I don’t know the whole story, but right now, I believe JC never truly hated WWX, not even after everything.

Anyway.

Back to the scene from the donghua.

So, JC bumps his head and we laugh because it’s funny. If you are overthinking, like I am whenever JC appears on the screen, then you might see the head bumps as a metaphor for the comments JC has to live with. There’s one more way we can take this scene. Let’s say this is some form of foreshadowing. JC becomes the leader. Through thick and thin he leads and WWX follows him. JC’s decisions are not always the best, but the one who gets hurt by those decisions is him. Let’s go further and say the first bump is Shijie’s death.

Wei Wuxian: “How about we go back the way we came?”

I don’t know how it happens, but JC most certainly refuses to go back to how things were, he can’t go back. Even if you see honest hurt on his face, he continues and his leadership and decisions hurt him again. The death of Wei Wuxian. Even after this, JC continues on and in the end he reaches his destination. He was right all along, the path did lead to their goal (feral ghosts in this particular scene), but when he’s finally reached his goal he doesn’t see it. Not until Wei Wuxian points it out. When JC lost all of his family (Wei Wuxian in particular) he lost his focus. The goal became invisible because it had no worth anymore.

The two heroes of Yunmeng Jiang – Jiang Cheng needs Wei Wuxian in order to be himself and show his best.

I can’t wait for more chapters of the novel to analyse all of this and have a full picture of their relationship.

I know, ladies… Aahh… I know.

Well, you are extremely striking, Wei Wuxian, I’ll give you that. You’re so damn pretty here, my son.

One starts, the other one finishes. Both in their own ways. I just remembered this quote from the novel while re-watching:

“The two knew how to continue each other’s words ever since they were young. Now, one sentence after another, the argument flowed seamlessly…” (ch62)

I TOLD YOU NOT TO CRY WOLF! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! Calm down, Lan Zhan, breathe, my child brea-

HOLY FUCK! Down, Lan Zhan, stay down, remember the code! Remember, you’re a good boy, the best bo-

OK. OK, yeah, let it out. That’s healthy. Just… yeah. O.O (You better not piss off this dude. Fear the quiet ones, FEAR THEM.)

How can you be so smart, yet so stupid? XD Seriously, did you or did you not copy the damn rules for a month??? But, yeah, poor Lan Zhan, and poor Wei Wuxian – he is honestly confused. He wasn’t given a moment to properly apologize and he clearly wanted to. These two… they’ll be the death of me. Btw, the whole ribbon thing is so interesting, such a nice detail to the world building. But! I do admit that you most likely wouldn’t know about it if you follow only the animation. They should have made it more obvious. Unless. They did it like this on purpose, only to reveal it in the next season, which is also cool.

He feels so bad. TT_TT Don’t make that face at him, Lan Zhan, he’s a gentle soul. He doesn’t look like it, but he is.

Exactly. We won. Love is strong in JC. And look at those dorks. Precious. These moments are truly the blessing that we got from the animation. For me at least, it made me care about those guys even though I can’t remember their names. Those two nameless purple boys were the ones who made me drop my first tear in ep 11. These small things are so important. This is how you write a scene. 

Envious much? I get you, though.

EPISODE 08 – or, where have all these bitches come from???

Diminutive - used to express the fact that something is small, often either to show affection or to suggest that something or someone is not important: Adding diminutive suffixes is often a disparaging tactic. MDZS has this fascinating ability to tell and show without actually spending too much time to tell and show.

Once again, such an imaginative way to progress the scenes.

“The cultivation clans kept silent in indignation (after the fall of many clans), only to share their resentments secretly. In the same year Wen Ruohan commanded his eldest son, Wen Xu, to aggressively intrude and burn down the Cloud Recesses.”

Ah, Wen Xu, I had so much faith in you. But, at least you didn’t burn everything and killed everyone like Wen Chao did. And defying your father/leader is a no-no. Eh, dunno, I wish we had more on him.

Don’t touch my baby! *animalistic growling*

That was really… cruel. But, I already talked about it. I want to say another thing here. I think the main reason why Wei Wuxian immediately jumped to the chance to go with Jiang Cheng is because Jiang Cheng will be safer with him than alone (I think Jiang Fengmian knows this too). Wei Wuxian is very protective of his shidi, he always saves him from (physical) danger. Man, I really love the Jiang siblings.

This is a nice parallel to that one moment when Wei Wuxain absorbed resentful energy in the earlier episode. The core melting must hurt as hell. Since I know almost all of the Jiang family lost their cores in similar fashion I get so pissed whenever I see The core melting hand (I don’t care for his name, he doesn’t deserve to have a name, I actually hate him more than any other Wen. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, he knows his lords are evil and he does nothing and his excuse is some favor. I totally get why Wei Wuxain was so furious with him.)

SCREENSHOT!

Don’t do something that will kill you.

Also, I like how the moment Wen Chao said “Who else dares to defy my orders?” Wei Wuxian immediately showed up in the frame. It’s such a nice touch to his personality and it’s a nice “invisible way” of foreshadowing.

He’s such a good child… *ugly sobbing*

The world doesn’t deserve Wei Wuxian. The world punishes people like Wei Wuxian and everyone knows this fact. The world is just not ready for someone as good and righteous. It probably never will be and that’s sad. But being “good and righteous” is complicated and debatable. The world will never agree on “good and righteous”, the agreement can never be pure and open-minded – someone like Wei Wuxian will never be accepted in the real society. We can all say we admire him and we truly do, but we also call him a fool.

He is so creepy. I love the VA for this guy. The way he laughs and yells Yahoo adds to the craziness.

All of them are so cute here. Lan Zhan too, with his childish jealousy. They just look like kids playing around. Also, Nie Huaisang, I can’t wait to see more of your shady ass in the future.

… I just think this shot is beautiful.

Jin Zixuan: Did you just touch my shoulder with your filthy finger?

Me: Fret not, babe, I’ll have Wei Wuxian make him eat that finger.

Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan started it, Wei Wuxian brings a whole new level to “Fuck you”. I mentioned this before, I’ll say it again: I really like how our MC fights first with his smarts and even when he’s physical you can see that he’s using wits and tricks to win. That’s not usually the case with MCs. In this particular case, because he used his wit to disgrace Wen Chao and the Wen sect, he got remembered and became the main target to Wens’ revenge. JC must be eating himself up over this. He tried so hard, yet at the end he let his brother do something that will kill him. Honestly, though, I would have done the same as Wei Wuxian… and then I’d be feeling guilty for the rest of my life… just like him.

… Um… Wei Wuxian sweety, your Yiling Patriarch is showing.

“Attempt the impossible” sequence is a go. Also, this is such a cool shot.

Can’t you see a giant killer turtle behind you??? Good to know what your priorities are. You dumb bitch. Also, that scream… That was a really good scream of Wei Wuxian. Well… not good. You know what I mean.

And that’s all for today. I always say to myself I’ll make it shorter next time and I always fail to do so. Well, hope you enjoy my rambling. See you!

[ooc-but-stylish]

hi, i recently got back into the flash fandom & i'm catching up with a few seasons of very confusing character development (or lack there of). yr post about Bart/Barry was very interesting. i'm currently writng an amnesia fic & i'm wondering if inserting this person with amnesia in the middle of the clusterfuck of any season would make the characters (pre amnesia) actions redeemable or should i just rewrite the character & get rid of the terrible Nice Guy/creepy shit that the flash writers did.

What a coincidence; I’d just been reading over that post this morning! 

Hoping this reply can help you, since personally speaking, I stopped watching the Flash regularly for season 4 and have completely abandoned its 5th season. 

The amnesia would depend a lot on the character, but for the sake of this post I’ll assume we’re talking about Barry and Bart, correct? Barry having Bart’s personality from the beginning would erase a lot of the show’s issues that stem from his sense of entitlement and how terribly his trauma’s been handled (comes to terms with Nora’s death, starts Flashpoint literally two episodes later, etc). If you wholly intend on a fix-it fic, doing the whole personality over to be “right” from the beginning without all the creepy Nice Guy shit is the best method, which depending on what else you change (for example, if you decided that leaving Nora alive would help Barry grow up to be a better person with an actual sense of boundaries around Iris West, haha) effectively would turn Barry into Bart, or rather, turn Barry “original comics Barry” whose personality Bart in the TV show was emulating. (Barry isn’t NEARLY as bad in comics as he is in the show.)

If you do intend on giving the character amnesia in order to make his previous actions redeemable, however, keep in mind that redemption is a choice reinforced by actual effort to make amends. More importantly, redemption is earned, not given. It’s not a bang in the head and a memory wipe and redemption is simply handed out to them. It would be if this were the TV show, but you’re trying to write your fic to be better than the show. This means people will understandably not be able to separate past actions from the person that did them, if they don’t have any good reason to. Bart (post-amnesia) IS still Barry (pre-amnesia), they’re just on opposite ends of the scale and Bart wound up unlearning a lot of shitty behaviors. In that case, Bart would still have to realize Barry was being a shit to the people around him and actively strive to be a better person than his past self so there’s something to work from.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

He’s Alive

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood feat. Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Rating: PG-11/T- (minor violence)

Original Idea: Arkham Knight audio files

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I don’t really know or care about the correctness of the difference between referring to Batman as Batman or The Batman, but sometimes Star Beam is just annoying to be annoying. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

I woke up tied to a chair.

I wish I could say it was an uncommon experience.

Or even the first time that happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t.

I grunted in displeasure and vague boredom as my eyes adjusted to the light. And by light I mean the dim incandescent lightbulb hanging bare from a cord on the ceiling. I blinked a few times until my eyes no longer burned from the light.

“Good morning, Star Beam,” an eerie voice said from the shadows. “Do I call you Miss Beam? Miss Star? Do you have a preference?”

“Fight me,” I snarled, struggling against the chains holding me to the chair.

“Oh, you’ll find that’s quite impossible. Those chains are fitted with a dampener chip that suppresses your metahuman powers, Miss Beam,” the same eerie voice informed me condescendingly. The face that belonged to the voice loomed from the shadows.

Or rather, the mask.

Scarecrow.

Great. This guy again. I’d already wiped the floor with that ugly burlap mask used to scare people on three separate occasions in the last year alone and I was really getting tired of him.

He was like that one guy in the friendzone who kept trying to escape it but he wasn’t actually in the friendzone, he was just in the Oh my WORD, go away dude zone. Almost every girl knows a guy like that eventually. And probably some guys know too—but I don’t really know since I’ve never asked.

“What do you want, Crane?” I demanded. “What was so important that you decided to invest in expensive power-dampeners to get fifteen minutes with me?”

Scarecrow scoffed. “You think that’s how long this is going to last?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p just to be annoying.

“Nope,” Scarecrow retorted, also popping the p. “Miss Beam, you’re going to be here for ages, until such a time as I deem it right to release you.”

Like that’s going to happen, I thought while rolling my eyes.

Scarecrow got really up-close-and-personal in my face. “Now, tell me, Miss Star Beam, who is the Batman?”

“Okay, I’m gonna correct you there. He is not the Batman. He’s just Batman, got it?” I snapped. “Honestly, it drives me crazy that everyone’s always like, ‘the Batman.’ It makes him sound like he’s half-bat half-human. Which is ridiculous and false.” I struggled against the chains again, trying to remember the escapology Bruce had showed me. I hadn’t paid very good attention back then because I’d thought I’d always have my powers so I could use them to pick locks and such.

I’d need to run a refresher course when I got back to the cave.

IF you get back to the cave, idiot, a snide voice of self-doubt hissed in the back of my mind.

Shut up, I retorted.

Well whose fault was it that you ended up captured in the first place?

Zip it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Star Beam. Who. Is. Batman?” Scarecrow pressed.

I arched my back and squirmed, trying to stretch out. I was stiff from being lashed to the chair. “Why do you assume I even know? You really think Batman would have a security risk like that running around?” I was rambling. Stalling for time. If I didn’t report back to Alfred every half-hour, he’d send Batman after the chip in my suit—which I was still wearing. Thank the heavens this wasn’t one of the times I woke up tied to a chair in my underwear and sports bra. “Like, seriously. One of the best detective minds in the world who’s just gonna be like, ‘Oh yeah, this little girl with weird powers can totally know who I am under this mask. I’m sure that won’t be a problem,’” I growled in my best Batman voice.

Okay, so my Batman impression wasn’t stellar, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Scarecrow stared at me. I wondered vaguely what his expression looked like underneath the mask. Was he irritated? Angry? I couldn’t tell.

He sighed finally. “Shame. I was so hoping my preferred method wasn’t going to be necessary. That you’d give up the information willingly. Though, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. The Batman somehow manages to instill a strange sense of loyalty in his followers.”

“You say that like he’s an internet personality,” I remarked.

Scarecrow revealed one of the syringes on his hand—the kind that would inject me with a concentrated dose of his fear toxin that would probably nearly kill me. “Enough of your silly little games, Star Beam,” he snapped. “You’re going to tell me who Batman is, and you’re going to do it now.” He lifted the syringe and held it toward me.

The door was kicked open. “Get the H*&% away from her!” a voice ordered.

The newcomer was tall. Not quite as tall as Bruce, but only shorter by a couple inches. He was also absolutely ripped—to the point where I thought it looked uncomfortable.

But I couldn’t describe his face because I couldn’t see it. He wore a scarlet helmet over his entire head. Frustrating, not to know who was under there. I supposed that was how a lot of people felt about Batman. Hmm.

Scarecrow snickered and backed away. “As you wish, Red Hood.”

“Let me talk to her. Alone. See if I can get it out of her in a different way,” Red Hood said.

Scarecrow moved to leave. “Alright. But when she proves uncooperative, we’ll do this my way.” He slid out and slammed the metal door behind him.

Red Hood sat opposite me on another metal chair, lounging on it casually. He tsked. “Oh Star Beam. You’ve really gotten yourself in a pickle this time, haven’t you?”

I wriggled and leaned my head back away from him. “Uh… I guess?” I said.

He sighed and shook his head, looking down. “No, no. You’re doing it wrong. You’re supposed to keep me talking. Or talk yourself. That’s what Bruce taught you to do right? Bide your time till he shows up to get you.”

I blinked. “B-Bruce?” I stammered.

Red Hood snickered. “Yeah. Scarecrow doesn’t know that I know. Let’s just keep it our little secret, okay?” he asked.

I cleared my throat. “Who are you?” I asked.

I heard an exhale that could have counted as a snort of amusement. “You don’t even recognize my voice anymore. I suppose that’s okay. It’s been a long time since the last time you heard it. I was just a teenager back then.”

Red Hood pressed the side of his helmet. The mask at the front opened up.

I gasped and lurched backward, the legs of my chair screeching on the concrete floor. “J-Jason?”

A leather-gloved hand reached up and stroked my face, pausing with fingertips at the seam where my mask met skin. I really hoped he wasn’t going to remove it. That wouldn’t be good. “Hey Star Beam,” he greeted, voice soft and gentle but with an underlying hostility and aggression I didn’t trust at all.

“You’re… you’re supposed to be dead,” I breathed, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jason shrugged. “Didn’t take,” he said. “Listen, don’t count on Batman to come save you. I thought he’d save me too but that didn’t turn out so well. Figure out how to get out on your own.”

“I’m trying. There’s a power-dampener on the chains. I can’t pick the lock with my telekinesis.”

“Well try harder. I don’t want Scarecrow to have you in here.”

“Oh, so just because it’s me you want to help.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“For my survival, yes. But what if it was Dick? Or some random civilian? Would you be encouraging them to escape?”

“Unknown, Star Beam. Because they’re not here and you are.” He reached forward and pulled the bobby pin out of my hair and slid it down my arm and into my hand where it was tied behind my back. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I still love you.”

“Don’t want to hear that my boyfriend from when I was fifteen still loves me even though he’s allied himself with one of my enemies. Hmm,” I said.

“Pick the lock, escape the dampener, and then you high-tail it out of here, you hear? My alliance with Scarecrow is necessary. You don’t know what happened to me when I was brought back to life. I’d been hollowed out. Still am. The only thing that’s left of who I was is my love for you. Somehow that survived.” He kissed my forehead. “Now go.” He straightened up, shut his helmet, and left the room. “Give her a few minutes to stew over my threat in solitude, she’ll come around,” Jason said to Scarecrow. The metal door slammed with a heavy thunk!

I fiddled with the bobby pin, breaking it to use as a lock-pick. Lucky for me picking locks was about feeling and not seeing because I couldn’t see what I was doing. Just had to feel for the tumblers.

The locks released. I sighed in relief and quietly slid out of the chains, trying to make them clink as little as possible.

I rolled my wrists, stretching them out and calling on my powers. Silver-white light danced around my fingers. I grinned. “I’m back,” I whispered.

I stole over to the window. The bars were too narrow for me to slip through and the glass appeared to be ballistic glass—bulletproof.

I smirked. “Good thing my powers have nothing to do with bullets,” I mused.

I bent my knees and made a telekinetic shield in front of me.

With a single shove of my hands in which I touched nothing, I tore the bars and glass out of the window. There was a horrible wrenching and crashing noise as the bars and glass broke free. The rubble ricocheted off my shield.

The door burst open behind me. The shield swung around to protect my back. “Get her!” Scarecrow shouted. “This is why telekinetics are cheaters, Hood!”

I laughed and launched myself out the window. I didn’t even care where I was or how high up. I was getting out. “Woooooo-Hoooooo!” I called as I fell through the air. A cushion of silver-white telekinetic energy pillowed my landing, but I tuck-and-rolled anyway for the sake of my knees and the fact that I was really stiff from sitting in that chair for too long.

Bullets followed after me as I took cover with an, “Eeep!” and threw up another shield.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” I heard Jason shout. The bullets ceased. “Anyone hurts her and they’re gonna deal with me!”

I did a quick stretch and took off running. “GO AFTER HER!” Scarecrow shrieked.

“But don’t you dare shoot her!” Red Hood added.

I leapt over a busy street of cars with the help of my powers and kept running. I had to get out of the city. Into the woods… if I could make it up into the branches of the canopy they’d have a harder time tracking me… get back to the Batcave.

I careened around a corner—

Only to be grabbed, a hand wrapping around my mouth to muffle my shriek and throwing me against a wall.

A familiar figure towered over me, holding me still and keeping my mouth shut. There was a smile on his face and a blue domino mask over his eyes—which were blue underneath. His hair was black. He was about five-ten and slender—fluid lines and lean muscle. Not bulky and jacked like Jason.

I pushed his hand off my mouth. “Dick?!” I scream-whispered.

“Hey Star Beam. Who’re you running from?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you that scared since the first time you sparred with B on Beast Mode.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop panting. “I’m running… from… Jason,” I got out through my heavy breathing. “Because… y’know… no one bothered to tell me that he’s still alive.” Dick took a step back, letting me go completely.

“Well, technically, he’s not ‘still’ alive. He did actually die. But then he got brought back. Long story. Quick version: reality got a little altered which brought him back to life and then he took a dip in the Lazarus Pit to heal,” Dick explained. I blinked. This was a lot to process. I wasn’t feeling too hot anyway, but this was a lot. I leaned against the wall and put my hand on the bricks behind me, looking for solidarity.

I took another deep breath. “Okay…” I breathed. “And no one thought to tell me this… why?!” It took all my self-control not to lose my cool. Not to scream at him and shout. But we were still hiding from Scarecrow and Jason’s goons.

“I, uh, I’ll have to let B explain that one. C’mon. Let’s get out of here. You good to keep moving?”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Okay great. Let’s move.”

I followed him up the fire escape of the building he’d pinned me to. We leapt over rooftops and across alleys with agility—and telekinesis in my case—before coming to a stop in Crime Alley. Below us, in an alley, was the Batmobile. Dick took the fire escape down. I just jumped and used my powers to cushion my fall.

“Now what?” I asked, upon finding the Batmobile was empty.

“We wait for approximately fifteen seconds,” Dick said.

One. Two. Three…

Jason was alive. What was I supposed to be thinking?

Four. Five. Six…

More than just alive—working with Scarecrow as the Red Hood.

Seven. Eight. Nine…

He’d had guns strapped to his thighs. Guns. Jason hadn’t been taught how to fight with guns. What was going on?

Ten. Eleven. Twelve…

I was too overwhelmed for any of this. I needed to go home and get some sleep.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen…

“Okay. It’s been fifteen seconds and he’s still not here,” I said to Dick. “Now what?”

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eight—

“Nightwing. Star Beam. What are you doing here?” a deep voice said. I whirled around to see Batman looming in the darkness of the alley.

Dick leaned against the Batmobile, spinning one eskrima stick around his hand casually. “Hey B. Guess who just found out your son is alive?”

Batman looked at me. “Are you going to lash out or are you going to let me explain?” he asked.

“Both?” I suggested.

“Alright. Let’s get somewhere safe first. Pile in, you two.”