#both are very stuck in the past in ways that are not actually accounting for their actions

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bestie Deficiency

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[creativesaturn]

Can you do Emiley w/ bau f!reader. They are on a case and get stuck in a hotel room together w/ only like 1 bed (I know, overdone, but its my fave) But Reader hasn't told Em that she has a crush on her, and Emiley kinda figures it out and teases her for a while? Idk, smut if you want? But you can also just like ignore if your over this scenario. I love your stuff! <3

Summary: Emily chose to room with you, but she didn't account for the one bed.

Genre: Fluff , Suggestive

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x gn!reader

Warnings: One bed trope , kissing!!

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: the way I was already working on a one bed trope for her 🤭🤭 but don't even worry cuz the one bed trope is my absolute favorite as well

You sat in the lobby with your go bag at your feet with the rest of the team. Hotch went to go check everyone in, since the case was so last minute it was hard to check in beforehand.

You looked up when Hotch walked over, "That explains why we couldn't sign in beforehand. They're completely booked." He spoke, "But I managed to get us 4 rooms, meaning we're all going to have to share." He explained, holding up 8 key cards.

"Can you behave and choose who you want to room with? Or do I have to hand them out randomly." Hotch asked, making eye contact with everyone one at a time.

You turned your eyes to the couch in front of you, catching eye contact with Emily who had already been looking at you. A slight pink tint filled your face. These past few days have been.. different, with Emily. Stolen glances, goosebumps every time she said your name. And butterflies going wild every conversation.

You couldn't not look away, it was like she had you in some sort of trap with no way out.

"Can me and Derek share?" Penelope asked, biting her bottom lip with a wink aimed at Derek.

Derek laughed in response, his eyes going to Hotch as he waited for the answer. "Sure." Hotch responded, handing them both a key card.

Penelope giggled as she stood up, grabbing onto Derek's arm as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm not rooming with anyone, but Hotch. You guys can't be trusted." Rossi raised his hands as if he was surrending to his own words. He stood up and placed his hand in front of Hotch, Hotch laughed but nodded, placing a key card in his hand. Shoving the matching card in his own pocket.

Your eyes had finally left Emily's, trying to think who the best person to room with for a week. Your eyes on the floor, lost in thought. Emily watched you contemplate, but she had other plans.

"I'll room with, y/n." Emily blurted, standing up from the couch with her hand out.

"Y/n?" Hotch asked, turning his eyes to you for your answer.

"Huh? Oh-- uh.. Sure. I don't mind." You finally answered, standing up and grabbing the card Hotch handed you.

Emily grinned at you as she began walking towards the elevator, you following close behind her. As you both entered the elevator, you turned your head.

"Why'd you want to room with me?" You asked, genuinely curious on why she suddenly wanted to room with you.

"Who else would you rather room with?" She asked, obviously teasing, finally turning to look back at you.

"Didn't have much time to think about it." You admitted, listening to the ding of the elevator as it pushed open, both you walking out and trailing the halls for your room.

"I haven't actually roomed with you, now that I think about it." She stated, opening the door and letting you step inside first.

"Yeah, it's not very common that we have to share in general." You replied, quickly stopping in your tracks with an annoyed sigh.

Emily furrowed her brows at your expression, and the moment she stepped inside her mouth made an 'O' shape with a soft chuckle.

"I can sleep on the floor if you--" You quickly spoke, but quickly being interrupted by Emily.

"What? You're not seriously sleeping on the floor." She scoffed, walking towards the back of the room that had two chairs to place her bag on top of it.

Her back was facing towards you as she slid off her jacket, "Are you sure?" You asked, placing your stuff on the opposite chair.

"Please. You wouldn't be the first person I shared a bed with." She scoffed, "I call dibs on the shower." She raised her brows, quickly lowering them as she entered the bathroom, leaving you alone.

You sighed, unable to argue with her as you looked around to take in your surroundings. You checked your watch and when you noticed how late it was, you decided showering can wait. You took the time you had with Emily in the shower to change your clothes.

You slid into the bed, sighing at the feel of the plush mattress beneath you. You pulled the blanket up your body and kept your back towards the bathroom, trying to catch up on your sleep.

You weren't surprised you couldn't sleep. The first night in the hotel is always the worst. But you kept your position and continued your attempt.

You listened to door of the bathroom open and the light that peered through turn off. The mattress dipped from the weight of Emily that got comfortable behind you.

"Y/n?" She whispered, clearly testing to see if you were awake.

"Hm?" You hummed lazily.

"You don't mind that I don't wear pants to sleep, right?" She asked, a wide smirk on her face when she spoke but you were unable to see.

You stayed silent for a while. The thought and realization that Emily, the woman you've had a crush on since you started at the BAU, was inches away wearing no pants.

Your face flushed and you unconsciously tensed your thighs together, which Emily couldn't help but notice.

"I'll take that as a yes." She continued to whisper, clearly teasing you at this point.

"But I didn't say anything." You furrowed your brows, your words slightly stuttering and more above a whisper.

Emily raised her brow, "You're right," She responded, "Is it okay?" She asked again, her back against the mattress but her head towards your direction even if your back was facing her.

"Oh-- yeah.. Yeah, it's fine." You muttered, silently cursing at yourself at how embarrassing that was to answer.

Emily couldn't help but laugh. She wanted to keep the conversation going, obviously you were having trouble sleeping if you were still up, and she already knew she wasn't going to be able to.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked in a soft mumble, shifting her weight to lay on the side of her body, staring at the back of your head in the hope you'd turn around.

You hummed to let her know you acknowledged the question, now thinking of a reply. "The case." You answered honestly, well slightly.

You weren't lying. Just.. bending the truth.

She groaned as a reply, "Other than the case."

You thought about it once more. Finally deciding to answer honestly.

"You." You managed to mutter between your racing mind and your now dry mouth.

You finally adjusted your body to lay on your other side, finally making eye contact with Emily who had a wide smile on your face.

"I could've told you that." She laughed, her white teeth showing, almost blinding you with how pretty she looked in the moment.

"What?" You asked, knitting your brows together. "You knew?" You questioned her, genuinely confused, you thought you hid it well.

"Are you kidding? You're always a wreck when you're with me. It's adorable, honestly." She grinned, her smile never leaving her face. In fact, you swore you saw it grow bigger.

"Oh." Was all you said, unable to find the words that could explain how you felt. But your actions did. She could see your face grow redder even from the darkness, your fingers fidgeting with each other, and your eyes unable to find a place to sit for more than five seconds.

"Don't be embarrassed," She cooed, shifting herself closer towards you, close enough to where you could feel her breath hit your skin.

"It's cute, really." She whispered, her hand trailing up your hip, getting caught on the fabric of your t-shirt.

You couldn't find your words, staying silent with your eyes locked onto hers even when she wasn't keeping eye contact.

"Cute?" You breathed out, your words hiding in your mouth, barely being able to mutter anything.

"Mhm." She hummed, bringing her hand to your face to rest her palm against your cheek, finding herself moving closer to you and closing the gap between your mouths.

You kissed back in an instant, letting the soft flesh of your lips move against her before she pulled back.

"You think you can be quiet for me?" She teased, her lips slightly grazing your own.

Your head bobbed up and down in a nod, "Yes."

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[infamous-if]

Reading the Rowan, Orion Drabble has me curious about the band members’ perspectives on MC and Seven. Cause honestly to me it doesn’t seem like they really knew the depth and how intertwined the two were. Rowan is upset at MC for choosing UW, despite knowing MC’s history with Seven, they lost their person in such a horrible manner because of a vote the band members brought up…while it’s not their fault how things went down…it still feels like it a little..if the vote didn’t happen maybe things would have been different.

SV is all up in arms with Seven, but MC’s band has moved on with MC still possibly being stuck in the past. They are aware of that much, but still question them when it comes down between UW and SV? It seems strange for people who are MC’s presumably closest friends to be upset with them for not wanting to share with their ex (platonic/romantic) soulmate type person after everything that went on, after everything they witnessed, and to not understand how hurt their lead singer actually is.

Well, you have to remember Rowan is pissed. That scene happens literally right after MC chooses UWB. Rowan is not thinking about MC's feelings in that moment because he's upset. They're not perfect people; Rowan is selfish in that moment that he thinks his way is the best way. It happens.

You have to remember the band spent years being friends with Seven and being around Seven. They witnessed the breakdown themselves, which means they can have a more informed opinion on it. Soft Violence know nothing aside from what Seven tells them. Seven is super invested in that whole situation because they were deep in it and their feelings are still very complex when it comes to that, so of course SV is going to be up in arms over it because they're going off what their friend told them. If Seven is making it a big deal, they will act accordingly and make it a big deal too.

Canonically, MC's behavior towards that situation takes a more internal approach while Seven's feelings over it are very external.

And yes, the band has moved on from Seven. They're not going to be stuck in the past. It is what it is. They were close to Seven, very close, but their relationship with Sev is very different from MC's relationship with Seven. It was very personal for MC and Seven made it that way because it was personal for them too. They're adults, they have to move on eventually. It really only makes sense for Seven and MC not to have moved on because of how personal the vote was made for both of them.

This is also a competition and the band takes that into account as well. Seven is a very distracting person. They have a really strong presence, and being around them can throw the band off. They're adults once again, they love MC and they are MC's closest friend, but when they know MC is being swayed by their own internal feelings they have to step in and put in their own opinion for the sake of the band. That was literally what the vote was about. Sometimes friendship isn't always about coddling your friend. Sometimes it means being the adult and giving them tough love/putting feelings aside.

The band will do that a lot. And maybe people don't like it, but they've been friends with MC long enough that they're not even friends really. They're family. And they're at a stage where they don't question themselves about whether they should say something or not. All that social etiquette was thrown out the window a long time ago haha they're honest with each other.

And yeah, if the vote didn't happen things would be different. Everything would be different.

[phantomvegetable]

Trapper x Reader

an unexpected bond formed with a killer… is it worth it? (continuation of this fic. i made a little playlist for your enjoyment ;0) tw’s: canon typical violence, death, some obsession, evan being kinda delulu

Evan didn’t understand you.

You continued to seek him out during trials and attempt to bridge whatever this odd relationship was by asking him questions—that is, if you were paired together. Evan didn’t really want to think about what happened to you when you expected to face his unexplainable mercy, only to meet the end of someone—or something—else’s blade… or worse.

But, when the Entity did decide to allow he and you the chance to encounter each other—which was a rare occurrence, probably on account for Evan choosing to spare you and your team whenever he was your chosen killer. There were quotas to meet—you stuck to his side like Victor to Charlotte until you were whisked away by a fellow survivor, or until Evan reached his you-limit.

You were pleasant—lovely, even—but you were doing things to him that Evan found himself needing the space to decompress far, far away from you in solitude. It felt as if his identity as the Trapper crumbled anytime you were near, and it made his head ache. You could just be breathing next to him and Evan would begin to shut down, hands uselessly fidgeting with his bear traps as though they were the only things keeping him grounded to reality—and they might as well have been. When you came around, Evan couldn’t control himself.

Maybe you were putting some sort of curse on him.

Maybe he was okay with that.

“Do you remember who you were.. before all of this?” You ask one night while perched on the windowsill—the very same misshapen one that he broke out of not too long ago—of his hideout in the mines. It had become a strange sort of “safe” place for the two of you to meet outside of matches, all because one night you decided to enter into the wolf’s den on a whim.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” went the timeless saying… but Evan rather liked this feline, despite your apparent craving for danger.

Your question pulled Evan away from himself momentarily; brain stretching and reaching for far-away memories that felt dull and lukewarm, yet itched to be remembered. The thought of his father—the only thing that fed both his rage and the entity—was ever-present, but Evan chose to spare you his pain.

“No,” He settles on answering gruffly, frowning past all the bloodshed that seemed to be the only vivid recollection he had. At your disappointed “oh,” he hesitates. “…I drew, sometimes.”

“Really?” You smile. Evan casts his gaze to the floor. “What would you draw?”

“Don’t remember,” Evan answers truthfully, because he didn’t. He was only able to recall the feeling of peace whenever a pencil was held in his hand.

“That’s okay. Maybe you can draw something new sometime,” You suggest with a casual shrug. “I think I can scrounge up some papers and pencils around camp.”

The idea was… actually nice. Evan felt something stir up inside of him—something like hope. He risked a glance at you, the sentiment intensifying.

And then, there was the sudden urge to act on those feelings: to touch you, to hurt you, to kill you. To hunt you down and make you scream and writhe and beg in your own blood. To make you cry, but then to dry your tears. Console you, hold you, protect you. Snap your neck. Caress your face. Gouge your eyes out. Trace your lips. Tear your tongue out. Kiss it better.

Evan turns his back to you, hands balling into tight fists. This is what you did to him—and why he desperately needed to get away so often.

“Evan?” You ask apprehensively at his abrupt change in demeanor, voice grating his ears in the cruelest of ways. He groans, hands covering his mask. Voices whispered all around him, coaxing Evan to gut you alive right then and there. He was familiar with the entity’s influence over him—but never before did he have to wrestle so endlessly with it, until you came along.

“M’fine,” He rasps once he finds his voice, keeping his back to you. “You should—ngh—go.”

Evan is met with silence as a response, and he foolishly assumes you have left until you’re in his peripheral vision, cautiously circling him. Your eyebrows are pulled taut in concern—just like they were the night you rescued Evan from his own bear trap—and your gaze rakes his form for any signs of injuries. The whispers grow yet louder as you come nearer, sending Evan to his knees with a pathetic moan. Kill, they say. Kill, kill, kill.

He wants to resist. He wants to, but…

“You’re too close,” Evan growls. Thankfully, you take the warning, stilling before him.

“Where does it hurt?” You ask, voice low and calm. Evan shudders. Everywhere, he wants to answer, but grits his teeth instead and tries to shut you out. When your fingers brush his cracked skin, Evan snatches your wrist in one quick motion, chin jerking upwards to meet your frightened eyes with his own wild ones.

Your bones feel so fragile beneath his hold—he could snap them within seconds. He adds pressure. You wince, arm twitching in pain, yet not drawing back. He squeezes, and you yelp. This time, you tug your arm away, which he lets slip through his fingers. The entity has progressively decreased in volume, leaving he and you in an uncomfortable silence. When Evan stands, you take a small step back. Something inside of him wilts.

“…You’re afraid,” He states, matter-of-fact. You inhale sharply.

“A little,” You admit, voice quiet—soft. Evan bunches his hands into fists, curling and uncurling them as he debates how to fix this.

The recognizable tug of a trial begins to pull Evan away, severing the tension if only for a moment. Something was off—Evan sensed it the moment the fog cleared. The air tingled with the impression of apprehension and unfamiliarity, as if the land itself was preparing for new terrors. Turning his head ever so slightly, he could see why.

The Huntress stood tall and resilient next to him, gripping her axes with a calm smile that did not match the hunger for blood in her inky black eyes. The cleaver in his own hand weighed heavily and all five of his senses were heightened, confirming the actuality of the two-killer trial.

Evan breathed a sigh of resentment, irritation prickling his skin. He would have to wait to talk to you—if you wanted to see him, that is. Something about you not being around felt deeply, deeply wrong, which only further soured his mood.

He acknowledged Anna with merely a grunt to which she dipped her head in greeting, stalking off moments after while humming a tune that followed her into the dark. Evan set out to place his traps; hiding them in obscure places, counting each unsuspecting human that he passed along the way. He made a mental note that none of them happened to be you.

As he finished locking the final pair of metallic jaws into place, Evan couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he held you in his grasp just a while longer.

Would he have broken your bones? Probably. Would he have liked to break more? Probably. Would he have killed you?

Yes, a taunting voice answers in the back of his mind. You were designed to kill, Trapper. You can’t hide from it forever.

Trapper. That’s right—he was Trapper, wasn’t he? Not “Evan,” like you called him. Trapper.

Maybe this was never destined to work. Maybe you were only allowed to show him a little bit of mercy only to remind Evan why he shouldn’t be granted such a gift—he was in hell, after all. He was being punished for his crimes.

Evan ponders this as he downs one survivor after another; hanging some on hooks, slashing others to death. He’s after one cunning prey that had stunned him with a pallet when, like a ghost, you cut across his line of sight without looking his way, Anna hot on your heels. Evan is stopped in his tracks, head inclined to watch where you and she disappear to, completely disregarding his chase.

A new feeling—one emerging from a dark, twisted place inside of him—rises to Evan’s chest that causes his heart to twinge unpleasantly, and before he knows what’s taken over him, he’s following swiftly behind.

The sight Evan comes across is enough to make him boil.

You’re flat on your belly, groveling in the dirt; an axe is plunged deeply in your right shoulder that fails to drag you away from Anna, who is closing in on her kill without breaking her lullaby. Her heel comes heavily upon your back as she rips the tool from your flesh, eliciting a scream that tears from your throat and goes straight to Evan’s head.

He’s never heard you scream.

He doesn’t like it.

Evan’s footfalls don’t cease; he lumbers forward, weapon beginning to raise. If Anna notices him, she doesn’t care that he’s fast approaching—your fate is sealed.

A swing, a squelching wet sound, and the Huntress comes crashing down next to you.

Her death is quick. The mask she wears is cracked in half along with her skull, split wide open and bleeding profusely. Evan looms above, breathing heavily, covered in the spray. Despite her being dead, Evan leans down close to her fresh corpse, sneering beneath his mask.

“Mine,” He hisses, finally identifying the emotion from earlier. Jealousy.

You’ve spun over on your back at this point, hand clutching at your wounded shoulder that oozes crimson. You look a mix of both bewildered and mortified. As Evan approaches, you, strangely, do not cower in fear. He squats down, leaning in close enough to blow your bangs back from his exhales.

“Won’t hurt you,” He mumbles hoarsely, searching your eyes. “Didn’t mean to.” He brings a hand to your face, gingerly swiping your hair off of your sticky forehead. You lick your lips, trying to find your voice.

“C-Can you pick me up?” Comes your question, soft as a whisper. Evan nods. He’s careful of your injury as he effortlessly lifts you up, the feeling of someone so close foreign to him. You wrap your good arm behind his neck, avoiding the various hooks that protrude like unwelcome parasites from his back.

Without another word, Evan begins his march out of the trial and into the fog, the two of you never to be seen again.

[justvora]

Cassandra Cain should be BATMAN.

Art credits: Karahuset

Honestly, I am not going to expand much on this, even though I could do an essay.

Cassandra Cain should be Batman and take his place and role. Not a "she should be in an alternate future?" No. She should be him in the current continuity, and there's nothing that annoys me more than seeing how in hundreds of elseworlds they've made Damian Batman, but Cass has been left stuck in his legacy.

Why? Simply sexism.

Helena Wayne already said it at the time: the bat is a symbol, an indistinct mantle depending on gender or whatever. Batman is a symbolic figure, not a person, but a legionary entity that exists thanks to its myths, thanks to urban legends.

"She could be Batgirl, or Batwoman", no, darling, no. Those are completely unrelated legacies no matter how much they stick to the Batman nexus. They serve a completely different book in which their own story is told, ceasing to be the pages of someone else's book. And Cass is the only one capable of taking the Bat's book to capture her story there and continue that legacy, not being an extension of it, but a central part of it.

Kate Kane (taking into account the post-crisis continuity) was a self-destructive woman who was expelled from the army for having relations with her roommate and who saw in Batman the inspiration to become a vigilante herself, so she took her military knowledge to create her own "symbol", wearing a completely different mantle that, even so, was based on and inspired by the Bat's icon.

Likewise, the Batgirl title was born in a completely different form and, in the future, she would become an assistant to the Bat-family. Barbara Gordon started in a casual, spontaneous and independent way, wanting to "annoy" her father at a party, but everything would take a turn when she would end up acting more like a heroine in a given moment to stop Killer Moth.

Those are mantles that were born detached from that of Batman himself but that, in the end, have intertwined and crossed. The point is that they do not have the same meaning, nor do they represent the same thing within the fight against crime. In the end it's digging into unnecessary technicalities, but the point is that if Cassandra should inherit a mantle it would be the core one, that of the Bat itself to become "The Bat".

Cassandra Cain is the one who has taken the symbol more seriously than anyone else. The one who most adheres to the no-kill rule. The most apt and who has the best attitude for it.

With this I do not detract from characters like Dick, Jason or Tim, as they are building their own legacy and history away from what has been the history of the Bat.

In the past it was said that she lacked other skills to take up the mantle, yet Batman himself claimed that she was best suited to take up his mantle when needed. She could very well team up with her siblings to do the job, or co-exist with another Batman to complement their skills and increase the fear of criminals given the possibility that "Batman is everywhere".

But I actually consider Cassandra to have very good detective skills. Perhaps not as refined, but her past and the fact that she has been a murderer (even if she canonically only took someone's life) gives her the knowledge of how to prevent murders, both by her hand and by the hand of others; that is, she knows what to do not to kill and still reduce those who have done evil; and, likewise, she knows how a murderer will act, which helps her when it comes to solving criminal cases.

The fact that she has stained her hands only once makes her carry a great weight on her. Among so many things, she became Batgirl to redeem herself and give meaning to an empty life, absent of identity (something that did her a lot of psychological damage, which is why Babs wanted her to develop on a social level so that Cass wouldn't be so isolated); and that's why, more than anyone else, she doesn't want a single person to die. She doesn't want to shed blood in vain, and from the beginning she always put herself before bullets by sacrificing herself (although this was something she did in a "death wish" kind of way, something I personally don't buy into because of how stale it comes across, being a trope of the time, but it still demonstrates her calling and sacrifice for heroism).

She takes the rule of killing more seriously than absolutely anyone else.

"Nobody dies tonight."

"Okay, but... She does not have the deductive reasoning. She is not a skilled tactician. She has no skill at mind games on either side of them."

#1 Bruce Wayne: Fugitive storyline. When everyone figured Bruce was a murderer, Cass was one of the few who didn't write Bruce off. She looked at the victim's body and saw the first clue to Bruce's innocence.

#2 Skilled tactician. She studied tapes of the Brotherhood of Evil in action after her prior loss to them. She studied them so much the next time they fought she owned the three members that attacked her.

No mind games you say? Tell it to Deathstroke who she played mind games with owning him twice.

All this not to mention her body language skills, something that not only makes her a superior fighter to anyone, being the first person who could beat Lady Shiva in a completely fair one-on-one, but also a human lie detector as she is able to recognize the truths and secrets that people hide deep inside. This makes her a completely empathetic girl by understanding people's emotions better than anyone else, making her a more tactful girl.

Anyway those are characteristics to fulfill the bare minimum of being Batman, and she goes above and beyond. It's not just that they meet the necessary skills, or that she has the necessary attitude, determination and self-sacrifice, but that she is the best fit. Cassandra is an equal for Bruce, a reflection of his very person in a good way, though there is one thing Cass can still do unlike Bruce at the expense of all the years he carries on his back: Cassandra can change and be a full person. It is her ability to grow, mature and understand life under a full perception, because thanks to an upbringing next to a real family she can understand the world around her to be a self-made person.

She is not driven by revenge, but by justice. She is not hate, but love and hope.

Cassandra is a woman who believes in giving people a second chance, because she believes in redemption, in change.

Likewise, and to conclude, in the current continuity it is confirmed that Cass is not only Bruce Wayne's daughter (this is indirectly implied in her dialogue with Dinah), but that she is "everyone's favorite Batman".

“ Everyone experiences tragedy. Tim. Bruce. You and me. It's not about the city. It's about how you choose to see the world. Everything else is just an excuse. ”

[cupcraft]

Okay but what really guts me about S6E21 the therapy episode is the moment where I think House really feels like Dr. Nolan's not hearing him or getting him which contributes to his feelings of distrust to um gtfo of therapy 5ever. Which this is not to say House should've done that or that Dr. Nolan is bad, it's more like this contributed quite a lot because well I'm making 0 sense let me explain.

So, I'm thinking about the scene where Dr. Nolan was like "what do you think Cuddy & Wilson talked about together. Walk me through the conversation?" House does and he basically concludes to his therapist that his interpretation of his friends is that they view him as the "House Problem" that they're more worried he's going to do something "bad" or "attention seeking" or "[insert anti-addict recovery rhetoric/ablelism/etc thing] here" because of Wilson kicking House out, out of the blue. And in a way, this is truthful and from an audience's perspective it is a believable interpretation. House is generally pretty perceptive about the people around him and their impression of him given that he does purposefully construct a certain impression of himself (so that he is not harmed by people by allowing himself to be genuine). And even though Cuddy and Wilson are the people he's the most genuine to, he still self-destructs around them and struggles with trust. Anyway, based on how Wilson and Cuddy have handled a lot of things in the past (not everything) such as the Morphine/saline thing, the first time he went cold-turkey on opiates, the tritter situation, forcing him to go to his abusive father's funeral, etc. it really does seem believable they'd view him as the House Problem, or in a way it makes sense House thinks that way overall.

Though this is not to say House is right. He is right and valid to think that they'd be worry he'd relapse/etc. and he is right to have trauma from previous horrible responses done to him and thus not have faith in any different. But House is in fact wrong because Cuddy and Wilson do genuinely care about him and do not actually see him at this current stage in the show as the "House Problem". Especially Wilson, which it was clear Wilson later realized his actions were impulsiveness and fucked up and not at all recovery informed (especially as the person of stability he agreed to be for House's recovery) since House felt forced to go back home. There's also the issue that Wilson created a home for him and House (as reiterated by Dr. Nolan and the fact the thing Wilson chose for himself was the organ, solidifying House's permanency in that home) only for him to be like jk i dont see a future for you here even though Sam who hates you doesnt mind. House doesn't realize that a Cuddy/Wilson conversation would be done out of care and guilt of an impulsive mistake and not because they just keep him around to stop him from being a "Problem".

SO, Dr. Nolan does challenge this rightfully so but he doesn't do it in the right way which contributes to House feeling unheard and stuck and realizing god I am miserable and i distrust this. Dr. Nolan challenges it by imagining the conversation in a way we the audience knows would not be how at the very least Wilson would talk. He posits Wilson as a very rational person to the point it is comical because Wilson is also toxic and irrational (again the very thing that Nolan says it was a home for you both and then he kicked House out!). I think even House recognizes this because he looks as though Nolan grew a second head like what on earth Wilson would never say that which I think really in the end makes House feel unheard. Because the message "Hey Wilson and Cuddy do in fact love and care about you" didn't come across. The "I think wilson is being rational" is what actually comes across, when House feels hurt by Wilson over what is an irrational reaction (especially given Wilson's apology to house goes poorly and comes off as more guilt than accountability, see the apartment scene).

So it guts me. it guts me that their communication got crossed and the outcome didn't work out. That House felt unheard and that Nolan wasn't able to reach him. Because it does bode poorly for House to leave therapy right now as he is at a point of crisis in his support network and he's returned home to the place that is triggering to him for a lot of reasons (hallucination/relapse/etc).

and as always for my ramblings feel free to add on/send asks/etc. :)

[thevampiremarie]

Treehouse Ask: I hope you are doing well this holiday season? My ask regards Morpheus' proposal of marriage to Reader. How does she feel about becoming his wife? She's currently adjusting to becoming his queen, but how does she feel about the idea of tying her mortal self to him in holy matrimony?

Hi!!! Thank you sm for resending this ask and I hope you’re doing well too.

Yesterday I had a surgical procedure where they stuck some really big needles into my spinal column while I was under anesthesia to inject steroids. Still feeling pretty achy and not great, but big needles will do that to you lol.

Anyways on to the good stuff.

I’m going to start with getting into Morpheus and then Reader’s perspectives, to add context.

I’ve mentioned before about how I’m approaching Morpheus as a very old fashioned/proper being used to a specific standard and protocol when it comes to interpersonal relationships of all kinds. Not only is he a royal king, but he’s also an ancient god who follows ancient rules (for the most part). As a king and a god, he wouldn’t be beholden to any of his partners or feel a sense of accountability from them. They just weren’t equals. He could do as he pleased and demand what he wanted and they couldn’t. His past marriage with Calliope and past romances with Nada, Killala, and Alianora reflect this. (I also want to emphasize that the reason why Morpheus behaved this way in the past in treehouse is because that’s simply the way he learned how to behave in relationships. That was custom, both in the Waking world, which affects the dreaming, and the custom when it comes to royalty and people in power in general. And he was/is a selfish being so this feeds into that for him.)

He does truly love Reader and want to marry her, but the only way he knows how to love her is how he loved people in the past, which was dysfunctional/neglectful/toxic. Morpheus never learned how to be another way.

But he wants Reader more than he’s ever wanted anyone else and is like, if I can obtain her and secure her to me, everything else will fall into place! A lil delulu lol, but he’s not the god of thinking shit through.

On the other hand, Reader is a modern woman. Not just a modern woman, a modern woman who walked into this relationship with the expectation of modern treatment. Being treated equitably, being mutually responsible and accountable towards one another. Complete trust, honesty, and respect.

She’s not truly opposed to marrying him, but she’s less concerned with the “marriage” part of this equation as she is about the parts of a relationship that make a marriage successful. Can she trust him, will he remain true to her, will he protect her and not mistreat her, will he remain obsessed with her and not grow distant or bored. That’s where Morpheus’s one track mind and her clash.

She wants this relationship but on her terms, not solely his, from a position that can be negotiated from.

While Reader clearly isn’t secure in their relationship at the moment, she’s secure enough in herself that she isn’t afraid to hold Morpheus accountable even if it might jeopardize their future.

Spoiler alert - she does eventually agree to marry him and they have a fairy tale wedding before the baby is born and I’m sooo excited hehe.

But right now they’re essentially going through marriage negotiations, as royalty once arranged marriages. But they’re not negotiating over alliances or land or titles, Morpheus finally has met his match who wants something much more important than those things.

And every time she refuses Morpheus, he comes back with a better offer, so to speak. He’s already learned he can’t dazzle her with jewels and gold and things. He has to actually change for the better as a person to keep her. (More Hades and Persephone influences!)

(The way I see it, Calliope’s royal father, King Zeus, would have done all of the negotiating with Morpheus over their marriage. That’s what was done in Ancient Greece and what was/is done all over the world. Negotiating over the possession of Calliope, taking her from her father’s house and adding her to Morpheus’s house (aka family). This is a scenario that naturally lent itself to objectifying Calliope, placing her on a lower status to her husband.)

Reader is a very very special character to me. Not only does she represent me and how I view the world and how I view other people, she also represents the person I wish I could be and the strength/courage/bravery I wish for all people. By giving her her happy ending that she acquired on her own merits and strengths, not by compromising who she was but because she stuck to her guns, I hope to give us all a future where we love and are loved for who we are, not in spite of it.

[7nessasaryevils]

Ahhh my favourite day of the week! I wanted to watch earlier but today's been so hectic so this is a very late screaming crying throwing up review of Wandee Goodday! Let us begin!

- oh lovely... pain right out the fucking gate why won't you assholes let me breathe???? Poor Cher having to watch the men he loves fight 😭😭

- ohhhh that Cher Yei hug... (gwenchana count 1)

- both yak and yei breaking down in the arms of the men they love most... fucking hell we haven't even gotten to the opening credits! (Also Cher and Dee just silently comforting their boys... gods I'm soft 🥹🥺)

- Dee taking care of yak by physically comforting him and then making sure he eats is just so goddamn sweet... fucking asshole

- Dee pouting because yak says he loves granmama is so boyfriend coded im smacking my head against a wall

- oh wow this is a yei-pain centric episode and we are really putting my son through the wringer

- Cher and Dee becoming the in-laws we needed ♥️♥️

- fuck the simple domesticity of you and your partner working in silence each doing your own thing ♥️♥️♥️

- Dee verbally reinforcing his belief in yak (gwenchana count 2)

- ZAZAKI NY BABIE HI!!!

- oh gods I love him immediately asking why yak isn't doing the fight

- real talk: I get why Yei is so mad at his father... to be that young and lose your mom and then be told by the only other adult in your life that you are now responsible for your little brother, a business, and a legacy is a lot. The resentment he has against his dad is understandable and so is Yak's forgiveness for him. While Yei decided he didn't need his father anymore, Yak decided to stay connected to the only other parent he does have because in that way he's still connected to his mom. My babies have been through it 🥺

- oh look the in-laws are all meeting!

- while I love that we're showing off Dr. Dee... AUTOMATIC DISCREDITING SIR!!! How in the fuck is that doctor telling you - a nonmember of the family- about papa phadetseuk's diagnosis??

- HOWLING 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 are you two cursed to be stuck with my sons is such a sad thing to say I love it!!!

- Cher really said "I'm sick and tired of you idiots fighting I'm telling your dad!" 🤣🤣🤣

- yei's heartbroken face... oh gods why do these brothers always look so good when they're devastated?!?

- I'm so fucking fine look how goddamn utterly fine I am so so wonderfully fine (sobs in the corner)

- I love that we address how grief can break people in the worst way and that both papa Phadetseuk and Yei are taking accountability for the past few years

- this episode really was out to hurt and yet heal my little boxer family and I love it!

- awww cute yei and Cher scenes!

- WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD FUCK ME (fuck Cher actually) HOLY SHIT

- FAMILY KARAOKE!!!

- ohhh... here we go dee backstory time!! (Tiny Dee is precious and I am going to steal him my goodness)

- granmama and yak being besties is exactly what I needed in my life ♥️

- SAY THE DAMN WORDS WANDEE!!! Although finally understanding that you love yak is fucking great!!

And for next week!

Out fashionable grim reaper is back, my son gets hurt, and we have actual clowns!! Perhaps a little less pain than this week ♥️

The exhaustion has set in so I bid you all adieu!!

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

heyy 📓

I have this one fic that I’m deeply fond of but will likely never write due to the inexorable confines of linear time that’s basically assistant Jon trying to gaslight the entire archives that his husband, Gerry Keay, is dead. He is not. He is trying to bring Jon coffee and wondering why his dear, dear husband is shoving him into the bushes.

The idea is that Gertrude figured out that Elias was trying to groom this feverish nerd as her replacement (he is not a subtle man) and, as a matter of checkmating him, made Jon her assistant to basically give him an out from the contract in the case of her death. A deadman’s switch, basically. She didn’t explain shit to him with the transfer, however. She wanted to keep her options open until she decided how exactly to play the matter.

She did not account for this feverish nerd going off the deep end at record speed, stalking everyone including her and her goth buddy cop companion, who found the fact that there was stupid enough to stalk the man accused of violent murder and subsequent skinning inexplicably attractive. Jons reasoning was anyone who burns leitners couldn’t be THAT bad, which did NOTHING to prevent Gerry’s burgeoning crush. Gerry explains everything to him pretty immediately after catching him at the stalking thing and they’re sickeningly in love in record speed.

Gertrude is a lesbian but honestly they’re disgustingly in love enough to make her homophobic. Stop holding hands where she has to see it. She has some regrets about this decision.

Elias manages to finagle past the deadman’s switch by getting him to re-sign through a very compelling hiring bonus. The compulsion is a gun and the bonus is his beloved husband doesn’t get shot in the fucking head. Jon re-signs.

The thing is that he signs on as an assistant again, because Elias is faking him out. Jon and Gerry are both half-Become and terrified of losing themselves. They’re desperately trying to find a way of breaking Jon’s contract and escape with their lives and souls intact. He knows that, if Jon was the Head Archivist, he’d follow in Gertrude’s footsteps to slow his own becoming.

Except the Archivist is a what and the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute is just a title. Elias basically tricks Jon into thinking he’s trying to make Sasha the Archivist by promoting her and letting Jon “get one over” on him by interfering with her Becoming, furthering his own in the process. Jon thinks he’s just there as Gertrude’s former assistant who knows about her plans to stop upcoming apocalypses. Gertrude never told him that she suspected Elias wanted him for the job, so he’s completely blind to the real stakes. He thinks he’s protecting Sasha from her own becoming and instead just sinking further into his own.

The thing is that Elias has made it very clear that if actually tells Sasha and the rest of the assistants anything, Elias will find a way to kill both him and Gerry. And Jon’s very much tied to the archives, so they’re limited in ways they can protect themselves. He’s stuck pretending that he knows nothing and working in the background to keep them safe as he can.

Cue “Let’s see if we can track down this Gerard Keay fellow in all these Statements” “We, we can’t” “why not” “He… died. Very tragic. So sad.”

In Jon’s defense he panicked and also if they find Gerard Keay it’s a very short jump to “hey Jon why did we find a marriage certificate with your name on it and this very spooky man’s name on it” “hey Jon why did we find all these statements that featured both you and him in these spooky circumstances hidden in your desk” “hey Jon have you been lying to us this entire time” “hey Jon is that Elias with a fucking gun.” It’s just. It’s a slippery slope. The only reasonable thing to do is fake his own husbands death.

Gerry finds this solution hilarious and is immediately and violently reminded of why he married this man.

(“Oh I’m sorry I can’t do the dishes I’m too dead for that” “Gerry do you want to die for real”)

Guest starring:

Michael’s aggressive, mandatory, and deeply troubling adoption of Jon during his time as an assistant (he wants to prove he’s better at keeping assistants alive than Gertrude)

Wlw/mlm violence starring Basira and Daisy (Basira met Jon via Sectioned matters and they got on like a house fire, and like. It’s really hard to find those couple friends, you know? Like sometimes she wouldn’t mind going out to a pub with her partner and a friend who has a partner and they like, get group discounts or something. Daisy come on it will be fun. Only Jon shows up with accused murderer Gerard Keay and Basira shows up with a fucking Hunter. Both of them think the other has terrible taste in partners)

Sasha and Tim trying to set up Martin with Jon, who is absolutely not married to Gerard Keay, because Gerard Keay is too dead to be married to anyone

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Open Up And Let Me In

The Waves Are Rising and Rising Extra Scene #5

Chapter 1

Our first chaptered extra! These bad boys (NieYao) can fit so much arguing and obsession with each other 😌 The next chapter will go up next Monday!

--//--

Jinlintai is so very different with Jin Zixuan in charge.

It’s only been a week of his actual leadership following the ceremonies and funeral rites involved in sending Jin Guangshan off properly, and there are still plenty of snakes in the grass that will need routing out, but that’s sort of the point. Jin Zixuan wants the snakes out, rather than to use them for his own purposes, and Jin Guangyao is both tentatively hopeful for what that means for the future of the Sect and annoyed that he has to continuously reassure his own spies and assistants that their jobs are secure and he’s not going to be pinning his crimes on them for scapegoats on their way to following in Jin Guangshan’s footsteps.

Jin Zixuan is honest, and it’s both wonderfully refreshing and slightly maddening in a way that Nie Mingjue has thankfully prepared him for, albeit unknowingly. The biggest concern at the moment is the issue of Xue Yang and, by extension, the boy’s primary form of entertainment. He hasn’t brought him any new corpses to experiment on since Jin Guangshan’s death, and though he’s been able to hold off the worst of the boy’s temper with sweets and letting him loose to wreak mental and emotional havoc on some of the more irritating old guard who want to see Jin Zixuan become a little carbon-copy of the late Jin-Zongzhu, something will need to be done about his restless ward soon.

‘Soon’ is not ‘tonight’, though, as tonight is a night for guests, and the modest banquet held in their honor despite the fact that Nie Mingjue has never liked the fuss. He’d at least seemed more willing to sit through the formalities tonight than he has in the past, though whether that had been due to the overall continued softening of his temper or the fact that, to keep him entertained, Jin Guangyao sat beside him delivering sly comments at random intervals from the moment he was free to do so is up for debate.

“Wait, a-Yao- can I come see you tonight?” Nie Mingjue had asked him when the first few Nie disciples had begged off for their beds, claiming an early start, a long day of travel, and the perfect amount of good wine as their excuses for leaving. Jin Guangyao, already half-standing to go begin reorganizing the next few courses to account for fewer guests, could only nod and do his level best to ignore the warmth of pleasure and desire curling up together in the pit of his stomach. 

Saying yes to such a simple request had made Nie Mingjue happy — visibly, demonstrably happy. He’d smiled up at him as he’d left, small but definitely there, and now Jin Guangyao feels like his face is going to get stuck in his own happy little smile that he isn’t interested in stifling. If anyone has noticed it in the last shichen or so they haven’t said, and now it hardly matters as he’s safely ensconced in his apartments for the rest of the evening. The moment he’s alone he starts taking off the more elaborate layers of his newest set of formal robes, perfectly in keeping with what’s expected of a member of the inner family and more stifling in this weather than he would prefer.

He’s just shrugged out of his outermost layer — a delicate, gauzy, cloth-of-gold robe with wide sleeves — when there’s a knock at the door, too authoritative to be one of the servants.

“Da-ge?”

He turns away from the mirror to face the door when it slides open and Nie Mingjue steps over the threshold, gaze darting quickly around the spacious suite of rooms before landing on him.

“You’ve finally been given proper quarters.”

“I have. Zixuan-ge insisted.”

“Good.”

Jin Guangyao turns to the mirror again to hide the pleased smile he’s once again helpless to stop, though it isn’t like he’s trying very hard either. Nie Mingjue shuts the door behind himself and steps further into the room but keeps his distance until Jin Guangyao has removed his heaviest embroidered layers, the perfect spot of cinnabar ink between his brows, and the still-unfamiliar weight of his golden guan to let his hair fall a little more loosely with a relieved sigh. Once he’s set the heavy crown aside he turns to look over his shoulder again and finds Nie Mingjue still standing near the door, just watching him. (He’s a little surprised to realize he isn’t intimidated at all, despite the fact that Nie Mingjue is staring at him with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his perpetually intense features are set in his usual stern frown).

“Do you not want to sit?” he asks with a gesture at the table laid out with light snacks and a steaming pot of water next to a few paper sachets of his favorite tea leaves. Well, none of them are his favorite, but he still hasn’t found that blend outside of Qinghe so the current selection he has will have to do.

“I will.”

Nie Mingjue doesn’t move a muscle and Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow at him, bemused.

“You’d rather loom in my doorway first? Might I ask how long you plan to stand there staring at me? I need to know when to begin brewing the tea.”

That at least gets Nie Mingjue to relax a little, huffing and dropping his arms to his sides instead.

“I want to talk.”

Jin Guangyao very firmly pushes aside the brief flash of fear that he’s somehow learned of Xue Yang’s existence (or something else incriminating) in the shichen since they’d parted in the Fragrance Hall in favor of crossing the room to kneel behind the table. Doing his best to appear unbothered, he begins preparing the tea he thinks Nie Mingue will like best, a smoky blend not dissimilar to the strong, dark teas in Qinghe that also just so happens to steep longer than the others to give Nie Mingjue time to decide he’d like to sit down after all.

“What would you like to talk about, da-ge?”

“A-Huan said I should… he thinks — and I agree — that I caused you distress, that night when I… after you…”

Ah, so it’s to be an emotional discussion, then. Nie Mingjue only ever stumbles this badly when asked to talk about his feelings, and considering he isn’t in a blustering rage it’s unlikely he’s uncovered one of Jin Guangyao’s indiscretions on his own and wishes to lecture him on morality.

(Well, he amends, there’s nothing new to spark a debate; the morality lecture may still be coming.)

In his tentative relief, he decides to show a bit of mercy and offer an olive branch. “Da-ge, have you come to apologize for confessing your love to me when I was not at all prepared to handle hearing it?”

“... yes.”

His smile really is going to get stuck like this, he thinks.

“You’re forgiven. Sit down and help me drink this, I don’t want the whole pot.”

Nie Mingjue finally obeys, collapsing gracelessly with a huff to fold his long legs underneath himself and arrange the skirts of his robes neatly enough that they won’t annoy him. Jin Guangyao pours him a cup of tea while he fusses around getting comfortable, and when he passes him the cup he lets Nie Mingjue curl both hands under his, fingers looped around his wrists and his palms warm and dry against the backs of Jin Guangyao’s hands.

“You didn’t even let me say it. And it’s not the only thing I want to say.”

Jin Guangyao stays right where he is, fingertips stinging slightly with the heat of the tea and his entire being extremely aware of Nie Mingjue’s hands on his. He looks up to meet his partner’s eyes and finds equal parts discomfort and determination in his stern gaze.

“Alright. What would you like to say to me then, Mingjue?”

He watches the familiar address land and ease at least some of the discomfort, if not all of it.

“I meant it when I said it, and I’m not sorry for that. I won’t be sorry for that, ever.” Jin Guangyao’s fingers twitch as his breath catches in his chest; somehow an earnest Nie Mingjue is even more disarming than an earnest Lan Xichen. “What I am sorry for is that I chose to tell you at the wrong time, and that I didn’t stay to watch over you afterward.”

Jin Guangyao’s smile feels a little tremulous and he thinks he’s glad for Nie Mingjue’s steady hands wrapped around his to help keep them from trembling too.

“I see. You’re still forgiven.”

Nie Mingjue, the wind in his sails now, barrels on like Jin Guangyao hadn’t said anything, though he does at least finally pluck the cup from Jin Guangyao’s fingers to set it aside just so he can tangle their hands up even more thoroughly.

“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. I never want to upset you, but there are things left for you and I to discuss that won’t be pleasant for either of us. I want to clear the air, once and for all, and when we’re done I want to make it all up to you in whatever way you want.”

Nie Mingjue’s shoulders slump ever so slightly and Jin Guangyao takes that to mean that his clearly-rehearsed recitation is over. He was right to be tentatively relieved, it seems; what unpleasantness could there be for them to talk about if not the weight of their separation still dangling over them like an unsheathed sword, suspended and hanging on by the thinnest of threads?

“You want to talk about all of it right now? Tonight?”

Nie Mingjue stares at him in silence for a long moment before he huffs a sigh and slumps further, looking strangely defeated.

“Yes. But you have that look on your face like you’re trying to figure out how to tell me I’ve done something wrong.”

He has no such look on his face. Yes, he would very much have preferred some advance warning, and for Nie Mingjue to choose a night to discuss heavy, painful topics that wasn’t preceded by a day of politicking and managing the successful putting-on of a banquet. But he can’t deny that the list of his demands as to what exactly this tender thing between them really means is growing longer by the day, and that he’d very much like to see it resolved. It’s…annoying to try to go about his new normal and adjust to being wanted while simultaneously feeling like the rug is going to be pulled out from under his feet the moment Nie Mingjue’s good mood wears off, eroded away by Baxia’s continued influence. As much as he would’ve preferred a better time to schedule this particular heart-to-heart, he can’t find it in himself to fault Nie Mingjue for behaving exactly as expected and smashing straight into confronting the issue head-on at the earliest opportunity that presents itself. 

“Can we have our tea first? It shouldn’t go to waste.”

Nie Mingjue sighs but finally releases Jin Guangyao’s hands to wave him ahead. “Go on then. You and Xichen I swear-“

“Are refined gentlemen who can appreciate life’s small pleasures together.” Nie Mingjue shoots him an exasperated look for his smooth interruption, but it’s tempered so much as to be completely ineffective by the smile trying to hide in the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, of course. You took the words right out of my mouth.” Jin Guangyao snorts utterly involuntarily into his own cup of tea at such a dry response.

“This one is just so familiar with his da-ge’s mind, of course.”

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the second he’s done it. Nie Mingjue’s hand stills, cup hovering halfway between the table and the tight, unhappy line of his mouth. Jin Guangyao bites back an apology that’s more knee-jerk reaction than genuine contrition as he refills his own cup, despite not having actually emptied it.

After a long moment, Nie Mingjue sets his cup back down undrunk from at all, and Jin Guangyao’s hands twitch tighter on the teapot in the moment before he sets it carefully back down on its tray.

“It scares the hell out of me sometimes how true that is.”

His glare is focused on the lacquered wood of the table but Jin Guangyao feels the weight of it on his shoulders all the same.

“…da-ge?”

“You do know my mind. You know all the ways to get in there and tie me up in knots, you know just what to say to make me do what you want, and knowing that has never helped me resist your doing it.”

Jin Guangyao swallows a gulp of tea rather than laugh outright at such absurdity. “I may know your mind, Mingjue, but I can hardly influence you so strongly as that. I couldn’t even convince you to kill me with Baxia in your hand and your combined fury stoked as high as it could go with no other target in sight. How can I possibly manipulate you beyond your own control?”

Nie Mingjue raises his gaze from the table and Jin Guangyao is shocked to his core to see him looking so…lost.

“You didn’t truly want to die either time I threatened it, A-Yao. You didn’t believe you deserved it, and I couldn’t fight you either time. All I could do was send you away.”

The reminder still feels like the sword dangling above them has dropped only to impale him straight through the chest.

“I didn’t want to leave, either,” he whispers. “You didn’t kill me, but you also did nothing to keep me. Killing me would have been kinder.”

Nie Mingjue’s jaw works, a muscle jumping under his skin. “It wasn’t about what either of us wanted. You killed a Nie man in cold blood-“

“I killed an incompetent bully who put the safety of the entire sect at risk for the sole purpose of stroking his own ego-!”

“He should have been delivered to me for justice!”

Jin Guangyao snaps his mouth shut and tries not to choke on his panic. They’re backsliding and he can see no way to stop it, but now that they’ve begun they have to continue or else nothing between them will ever be solved.

“It was a sect matter, A-Yao, you should have come to me!”

“Well I didn’t! I didn’t come to you, I killed him myself and I’m not sorry! And if you can’t even forgive me for this then what would you have me do about Qishan? About the things I’ve done for my father? I killed more than your men for Wen Ruohan, I did so much worse than humiliate you, and I’ve done worse still since then. The things I did would make any righteous man sick, even a butcher like you, so what now? What do we do now?”

Nie Mingjue stares at him, breathing hard through his nose and clearly hanging onto his temper by the very tips of his fingers.

Jin Guangyao can’t quite stop his voice from cracking as he adds, “What do you want me to do, Mingjue?” 

His heart leaps into his throat when Nie Mingjue jerks to his feet and starts pacing, angry strides back and forth across the length of the main room of Jin Guangyao’s apartments. He doesn’t have Baxia with him, for which Jin Guangyao is grateful, but he’s sure that her influence has crept back in to take hold of Nie Mingjue again since they last cultivated together; he won’t be thinking entirely clearly, and this time there’s no Lan Xichen to help him cool down.

“What have you done?” Nie Mingjue finally asks, his voice harsh and rasping. “Tell me all of it. No more lies, just…just tell me, and then I’ll know and we can put it behind us.”

Jin Guangyao takes a steadying breath that doesn’t steady him at all before he stands, shaking hands patting down his robes to lie flat and smooth and perfect as he steps around the table straight into Nie Mingjue’s path. His partner stops short when he sees him and now Jin Guangyao can see the desperation warring with his anger in his eyes.

“You already want to forgive me,” he realizes in a burst of clarity, “so what will it matter what I say? You know of my crimes against you and your men, you know that I was ordered to kill you and that I couldn’t bear it — which means you also know that my father’s depravity ran deep and that he trusted me to execute his schemes, whatever they were. Everything you imagine that I could have possibly done — is any of it so horrible that you can look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve lied to me at our most vulnerable? Do you truly love me like you claimed you do, or will you deny me again?”

Nie Mingjue’s gaze is as intense as ever despite the tears glittering in his eyes and threatening to spill over. “Why does it all have to be so complicated?”

Jin Guangyao isn’t entirely sure where this bold streak is coming from — perhaps from knowing that Nie Mingjue does apparently love him, despite it all, as he’s missed his chance to refute it — but he looks Nie Mingjue square in the eye and says plainly what he’s been talking around for too long.

“Your rigid, black and white values are a luxury, Mingjue; the rest of us, even the rest of your Nie, make do with compromise, even in matters of morality. If you want to love me then you’ll have to finally learn how to do it, too.”

Nie Mingjue glares down at him, eyes still suspiciously shiny, for long enough that the silence stretches on into something tenuous and unbearable. Jin Guangyao meets his scrutiny head-on, but when the need to say something claws its way up his throat he spreads his arms out wide, leaving himself as open and unprotected as he can be here, dressed down and unarmed for the evening, in the privacy of his own rooms.

“Well?” he prods. “Those are the terms of the contract, Mingjue. I’m not so easy to love as er-ge, am I? You’ll have to put in the effort to choose me too.”

Nie Mingjue visibly collects himself and drops his hands from his hips to hang loose at his sides, the very image of defeat. Jin Guangyao stands still to let Nie Mingjue close the distance between them, doesn’t flinch when his partner raises a hand to tip his chin up oh-so-gently with thumb and forefinger.

“My life would be much simpler if you were difficult to love, A-Yao.”

Jin Guangyao has to shut his eyes and try to catch his breath, but Nie Mingjue just pulls him closer with the careful hand under his chin so he can press a lingering kiss to his forehead, right over where his cinnabar mark usually sits. They linger there for long moments, breathing quietly and reacquainting themselves with softer feelings than anger, or fear. Jin Guangyao’s hands creep up to rest on the easy dip of Nie Mingjue’s waist, Nie Mingjue’s mouth traces featherlight down to the curve of his cheek, and Jin Guangyao thinks they’ll be alright, somehow.

In little more than a whisper, he breaks the silence eventually to ask, “Is there more you want to talk about tonight?”

He’s expecting a defeated ‘no’. After all, they’d really only gone in their old tired circles again, and Jin Guangyao doesn’t see that changing so long as they both remain determined not to apologize for their deeper hurts, and Nie Mingjue is a brilliant tactician — surely he must see them getting nowhere as easily as Jin Guangyao does.

Nie Mingjue draws back only enough to meet his eyes, and before he even opens his mouth Jin Guangyao can see it written on his face that there’s more, and Nie Mingjue is going to say it whether it’ll help or not.

“You broke the rules,” he murmurs, unusually vulnerable, “and I still don’t..like it.”

“Which rules, hm? Unfortunately you’ll need to be more specific.”

He stretches up on his toes to kiss the underside of Nie Mingjue’s jaw, a silent reminder to unclench it. The hand poised lightly under his chin suddenly shifts to clamp down on the back of his neck and hold him there, suspended on the tips of his toes supported only by the press of Nie Mingjue’s chest against his, one enormous hand on the back of his neck, and the other covering the entire small of his back.

Nie Mingjue’s mouth brushes lightly enough against his ear that Jin Guangyao can’t keep himself from shivering. “You and Xichen..you broke your rules, for him.”

Jin Guangyao goes very still, hidden in the crook of Nie Mingjue’s neck, and scrambles after the memory of the conditions he’d insisted they follow for Nie Mingjue’s treatments. He hadn’t spoken of it to anyone, and he and Lan Xichen had still been in Bujing Shi when they’d fallen into bed together, so what-?

In a burst of clarity, he realizes the problem in a moment no longer than a gasp before Nie Mingjue explains, “You and A-Huan wanted each other, so you did something about it. It wasn’t just cultivation or casual sex for either of you. You meant it, with him.”

Jin Guangyao exhales just as sharply as he’d inhaled and nuzzles in closer, finally wrapping his arms tightly around Nie Mingjue’s waist to squeeze him in a tight hug that he’d wager helps them both feel better.

“You were jealous that night we told you, weren’t you? It seemed so impossible then…You’re really still upset, after everything since?”

“It’s ridiculous,” Nie Mingjue mutters, mutinous in the way that means he’s trying not to let emotion get the best of him again. “I have both of you, I know that.”

“You’re still jealous though.”

Nie Mingjue’s guilty silence might as well be a resounding ‘yes’. Jin Guangyao tamps down a thoroughly unhelpful surge of glee in favor of tutting sympathetically — it’s genuine and everything! — and pressing a few more soft kisses to the underside of Nie Mingjue’s jaw in consolation.

“You said you came here to make things up to me, but now I wonder if it shouldn’t be the other way around. What do you think?”

Nie Mingjue’s hand in the small of his back presses a little harder, drags him off balance enough that he stumbles a little on the tips of his toes, though Nie Mingjue catches him easily enough that he isn’t even startled.

“Are you apologizing?”

“No I’m not, and I will not. I’m not sorry, but I will prove to you that you have nothing to be jealous of.”

Nie Mingjue holds him closer for a long moment before he carefully sets him back on his feet and lets him breathe, amusement tucked into the corner of his smile and his eyes when he flicks a glance at the table still laid and waiting for them.

“Didn’t you want to drink your tea first? You were so insistent.”

“Think very very carefully about what you want from our time together this evening, Mingjue, and then decide if you’d like to tease me into taking my time,” Jin Guangyao says a little too tartly over his shoulder as he practically saunters to his bed, confident that Nie Mingjue will follow. “Ah- leave that on,” he calls when he turns and finds Nie Mingjue cautiously resting his hands on the beast head buckle at his waist. “Come here.”

Nie Mingjue obeys with a wariness around his eyes that settles when he’s close enough for Jin Guangyao to reach out and rest gentle hands on the buckle himself, carefully tugging the leather tongue looped over itself loose to let the whole belt fall off Nie Mingjue’s waist and into his hands.

“Put it somewhere safe — neatly.”

Nie Mingjue lingers for a long, long moment with his hands resting on Jin Guangyao’s, but eventually he takes the belt without a word and curls it on itself into a few loose loops to set aside on the chair at Jin Guangyao’s dressing table. Jin Guangyao watches him carefully and gifts him a smile when he turns back around to raise an eyebrow in clear expectation of further instruction.

–//–

Jin Guangyao is going to be the death of him.

It’s hardly the first time he’s thought so, obviously, it’s not even the first time he’s thought it with a curl of anticipation in his belly rather than murderous paranoia twitching in his hands, but something about tonight feels a little more charged. Or perhaps not more, just different.

This time Jin Guangyao doesn’t even tell him to come to him, he just sits on the edge of his bed, one leg crossed over the other at the knee, and gestures with his index finger curled in towards his upturned palm. Nie Mingjue goes without protest to stand in front of him again.

“What do you have to be jealous of, hm?” Jin Guangyao muses, addressing the question to Nie Mingjue’s abs as he focuses on unpicking the knot of the silk sash around his waist, tied a little too tightly in his haste to get out the door this morning. “Silly man, surely you know you’ve had er-ge in the palm of your hand since you were children, and you’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He has?! Nie Mingjue blinks down at Jin Guangyao but the man still won’t raise his eyes to look at him, so all there is to see is long, dark lashes brushing lightly against pink cheeks.

“I…love er-ge,” he says, stumbling almost imperceptibly over such a bald claim to an emotion, “dearly. But I loved you first, I think.”

Nie Mingjue has to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath in, pretending that it’s in relief for the pressure around his waist finally releasing. He curls his hands so tightly around finely woven silk his knuckles turn white when Jin Guangyao hands him the sash, and he doesn’t need to be told to fold it up carefully and set it aside with his belt. He returns to Jin Guangyao and stays still as the man starts on his next layer with ease, clever hands unerringly finding the fastenings he must still remember the location of from his own robes cut in the Nie fashion; of course with a memory like his it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t worn them in years.

“I don’t know. Respect, admiration, a mild obsession with ensuring I arranged the world to your liking, running your household in the way a Madam would be expected to if you’d had one, as well as performing the duties your martial steward should. Maybe it wasn’t quite love, but wasn’t it close enough? I wanted everything to go well for you, and I was thoroughly devoted to making it happen. I was prepared to do almost anything for my righteous Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie Mingjue can barely breathe but he doesn’t dare try to stop him. This isn’t at all what he’d had in mind, but perhaps that’s for the best. His strategies on the battlefield contributed the greater part of winning the war; his strategies for love are much less successful. That’s why he’s even here in the first place trying to settle their debts, and with very mixed results so far.

“You don’t have to be jealous of er-ge,” Jin Guangyao says again, clever hands sneaking under his outermost layer to begin unfastening the next. Nie Mingjue stands helpless in front of him, mouth dry and his heart thundering in his chest, but he finds himself unable to look anywhere else as Jin Guangyao undresses him with more care than Nie Mingjue can remember ever doing for himself. “I’m right here.”

He braces one hand on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder and says nothing as Jin Guangyao unfastens the loose tie holding his final layer shut, and without being told Nie Mingjue shrugs out of the whole pile of robes and the shirt directly against his skin in one motion that has Jin Guangyao petting possessive hands up his scarred abs, scritching gently when he trails those clever fingers of his down to the trail of hair beneath his navel. He chases it under the waistband of Nie Mingjue’s trousers, dipping beneath the fabric without untying it first so that his fingers barely fit between the garment and Nie Mingjue’s skin that suddenly feels too warm, too tight to contain his desperate wanting. It feels like each brush of the backs of Jin Guangyao’s fingers against his belly, against his hips, will be the thing that undoes him.

“A-Yao-”

“Mingjue.”

Jin Guangyao finally flicks a glaze up at him, but it’s not a mercy like Nie Mingjue had thought it would be. His eyes are blazing with the heat of his remarkable restraint, but his fingers are still dipping and petting ever-lower inside his trousers and it’s only a spare moment later when Nie Mingjue shudders and chokes on some inarticulate noise he’s helpless to stop. Jin Guangyao leans in slowly to press a tender kiss just above his navel and Nie Mingjue is briefly sure he’s going to pass out. 

Jin Guangyao’s mouth brushes softly against his overheated skin as he murmurs, “You’ll make things up to me, I’ll make things up to you, and then the debt starts again. We’ll go around and around in circles forever and that’s alright with me. Just stay near me, I don’t care what we do.”

Somehow Nie Mingjue feels like he isn’t only talking about sex.

This isn’t at all what he’d prepared for-

He falls to his knees and leans in to kiss Jin Guangyao, feeling feverish and vaguely clammy in the small of his back even though they haven’t even really begun. Is this what Jin Guangyao did to Lan Xichen? Is this why they were still sharing those looks with each other for so long after the fact? As irritating as it had been at the time, Nie Mingjue can’t honestly say that he doesn’t understand it now, and they haven’t even fallen into bed together yet.

He has so many things he could — should — say in reply. There are things that have been simmering in the back of his mind for years, things he thought there would never be a right time to say and if this isn’t it then when will that be? But his tongue feels thick in his mouth and all he wants to do is use it to make Jin Guangyao forget they were ever angry with each other, and, well, that’s what he’s currently in a position to do.

Jin Guangyao uncrosses his legs quickly enough to clip Nie Mingjue’s chin with his knee but Nie Mingjue barely notices it as he buries his face in Jin Guangyao’s lap, hugging him tightly around his hips for a long, shaky moment before he pulls his hands back to untie Jin Guangyao’s two remaining robes and the waist of his trousers for good measure.

“Ah- Mingjue-”

“This is making it up to each other — simultaneously,” he finally manages to say as he tugs Jin Guangyao’s trousers down and out of his way mostly out of sheer stubbornness, as Jin Guangyao suddenly seems frozen with indecision. His belly is warm and soft under Nie Mingjue’s mouth and he lays back on his elbows without any further protest, his legs thrown comfortably over Nie Mingjue’s bare shoulders. “You let Xichen touch you, I want the same.”

“I was- I’d intended to do this to you-”

“Did you use your mouth on Xichen?”

He already knows the answer, but he looks up from between Jin Guangyao’s thighs anyway to watch him shake his head, slow and jerky like he isn’t sure he should admit it.

“You told me what he did to you, in detail, because you wanted to see me jealous of him. You wanted me to fantasize about you exactly as he’d had you.”

Jin Guangyao nods, still just as slow and uncoordinated.

“This is what you’ve asked for, then.”

Jin Guangyao blinks at him and then, all at once, Nie Mingjue can see relief and cautious pleasure softening his eyes and he’s relieved to have gotten this right, for once. Maybe there’s hope for them yet.

Naturally, having been offered what he’d wanted then and apparently still wants now, Jin Guangyao doesn’t try to stop him again on his way to his goal. He doesn’t know if he’s as good at it as Lan Xichen had been that night, but he tells himself it doesn’t matter. He’s not Lan Xichen, and he’s determined to make sure Jin Guangyao doesn’t forget who he’s with tonight for a single moment.

“Is it really what you want, though?” Jin Guangyao asks after a beat like he can’t stop himself, sharp and clumsy in a way he never is. To be fair, though, it might also have something to do with the fact that Nie Mingjue has started mouthing a lazy, meandering trail along the silk-soft contours of his thigh, his hip, across the slightest, smallest new hint of softness of his belly.

“Do I seem like I don’t want it?”

He feels like the answer to his question is fairly obvious considering he’s asked it with his mouth buried against this barely-perceptible evidence that Jin Guangyao is finally starting to eat properly, to actually relax in his own home, and he doesn’t think he could stand to pull away from it just yet for anything. Maybe it’s silly to be so arrested by something Jin Guangyao himself likely hasn’t even noticed yet, but…Nie Mingjue has always wanted to take care of him, even when he could barely stand to look at him.

“No..?”

Nie Mingjue is reacting to the uncertainty in Jin Guangyao’s voice before he consciously registers it, rising up off his knees to hover somewhat awkwardly over where Jin Guangyao is laid out on the bed, the balls of his feet pressed to the wood floor and his elbows on the mattress on either side of Jin Guangyao’s shoulders to box him in.

“What is it? You’re thinking something.” he asks, short and sharp in a way that probably has no real place here when he’s trying to put Jin Guangyao at ease, but oh well it’s done now.

“That is quite literally always the case-”

“You know what I mean! Just spit it out, A-Yao.”

Jin Guangyao narrows his eyes up at him and pouts, a little twist of distaste that Nie Mingjue wants to kiss off his mouth with a ferocity that surprises even himself.

“I just don’t want you doing this out of any sense of- of duty, or obligation,” he finally relents, clearly irritated with being pushed to actually say it, “or because it’s what er-ge did therefore you have to do it too, whether it’s what you want or not.”

Nie Mingjue snorts and, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s furious glare, ducks down to kiss his cheek. “I knew it. Relax, stop thinking yourself in knots. I am doing this because Xichen did, and I know you liked it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it of my own accord. Are you forgetting that he’s done it to me too? I know exactly how good it feels, are you saying I’m not allowed to want to make you feel like that myself?”

Jin Guangyao’s irritation drops off his face so quickly Nie Mingjue nearly laughs at him, only barely held in check by the fact that the irritation had made way for what he can only describe as ‘quiet shock’. With a little mental wrench he dredges up an extra bout of honesty, the continuing explanation getting a bit… uglier as he digs into the heart of his jealousy like a thumb into a bruise. 

“You let Xichen see you like this,” he rumbles, “you let him do things to you that I wanted to do, but was not allowed — or asked. Is it only me you can’t trust or did you doubt him like this too, when he offered himself to you?”

Jin Guangyao bites at his bottom lip, a nervous habit Nie Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen on his partner before, and he thinks the extra bit of shine in Jin Guangyao’s eyes might be a trick of the light. After a long moment he nods, his hair mussing against the bed and his lip bitten-red and shining when he releases it to inhale unsteadily.

“I… yes I did, actually. Very briefly. He seemed to have anticipated my hesitation, though-“ Nie Mingjue watches with surprised pleasure as Jin Guangyao’s complicated expression morphs into much clearer fond amusement “-as he had either prepared or was quickly able to construct a convincing counter-argument as to how it would assist in our dual cultivation practice if he relaxed me with an orgasm first.”

“Oh?” Nie Mingjue prods and leans down slowly, tentatively, to start peppering Jin Guangyao’s cheek and neck in little encouraging kisses.

“Mhm. I thought of you, the moment I agreed with his logic.” Jin Guangyao whispers it, almost conspiratorial, and as ridiculous as it is it actually soothes a bit of the jealousy still clawing and whining in his chest.

Articulate prodding is beyond him, and his mouth is busy anyway. “Mm?”

“He said I was owed an orgasm from the bath, and that you always seem more relaxed for me after he’s had you first, so he thought the same process would help me. I agreed to let him try and he said, and I quote, ‘Wonderful!’.”

Nie Mingjue has to bury his bark of a laugh in the crook of Jin Guangyao’s neck; he’d never known him to be particularly good at imitations, but at least for this Nie Mingjue can practically hear Lan Xichen’s ridiculous, cheerful chirp for himself.

“Of course he did,” he chuckles and Jin Guangyao nods furiously, snickering and failing to suppress his own amusement.

“Of course he did, I knew you would agree. He seemed to find it a perfectly acceptable response; I didn’t have the heart to laugh but in that moment I wished you were there to commiserate with me.”

It’s ridiculous, it’s petty, it’s immature beyond rational reason, but Nie Mingjue is vindictively pleased that Jin Guangyao thought of him even with Lan Xichen (and that talented mouth of his) between his legs. Nie Mingjue presses a few more lingering kisses along the inviting arch of his neck, the line of his jaw, and when he can feel Jin Guangyao relaxing beneath him again he shifts his weight to one side so he can skim his newly freed hand down the length of him — throat to chest to belly to hips.

Jin Guangyao shivers when Nie Mingjue wraps his hand around him. “Well you’ve asked me once if I’m sure, as you did him. Any more doubts?”

“No.” This time it’s definitely not a question, and Nie Mingjue grins with pleasure to have had it gasped against his skin, Jin Guangyao turning his head to try to smear a clumsy kiss against his jaw.

“Wonderful-”

“Mingjue!”

“You’re right, I should save my teasing for A-Huan. I have more important things to do to you,” he concedes. He leaves Jin Guangyao flushed and trying not to laugh as he slides back down to his knees and, with no further preamble (lest they get distracted again and wind up doing more talking), takes Jin Guangyao’s cock into his mouth, one hand still wrapped around the base to hold it steady.

Nie Mingjue hadn’t been entirely certain what to expect; Lan Xichen seems to enjoy the process, and he’d supposed he could understand why. After so many months of always receiving, he’s eager to return the favor now that it’s possible, and he’d thought that would be the source of his own enjoyment. He hadn’t expected to like the sensation of it, the warm, solid weight in his mouth and the trembling squeeze of Jin Guangyao’s thighs around his head, the grasping hand tugging at his hair. Even the taste is better (or at least much less of an issue) than he’d dared to expect in the brief moments he’d considered such things. He readjusts his weight to settle in and he just has to hope that his new enthusiasm makes up for any mistakes he might make along the way, because this is great.

It’s easier in some ways to be with Jin Guangyao like this, too. It’s possible for him to tell more lies like this, he supposes, but he doesn’t think Jin Guangyao is — or that he wants to. He’s pretty sure, just judging by the way Jin Guangyao is whimpering and choking on sharp gasps as he visibly struggles to keep his reactions at least somewhat contained, that Jin Guangyao doesn’t currently have any room in his head to try to figure out how to manipulate the situation, or dissemble behind that damn neutral mask he always puts on. This is what Nie Mingjue wants, and if they can’t get there with talking then this will have to suffice. (It’s not like it’s a hardship.)

It’s so easy, like this, to forget all the sore spots they know how to press on with unerring accuracy. Nie Mingjue tries a few things he vaguely remembers Lan Xichen doing with his tongue and it must be alright because Jin Guangyao moans his name up at the ceiling, so tender about it that Nie Mingjue is glad his mouth is otherwise occupied lest he do something stupid like blurt out years’ worth of emotional confessions at once in response.

When he’s figured out what Jin Guangyao seems to like best from his mouth he sticks to that for a few moments and starts moving his hand over what his mouth doesn’t cover, and that seems to be the right move; Jin Guangyao scrabbles after his free hand to clutch it tightly enough to ache — and comes.

Nie Mingjue can’t help but jerk back a bit, startled, but he just barely manages to keep his mouth on him and, without any other obvious recourse, swallows what he can as Jin Guangyao tenses enough that Nie Mingjue wonders if he needs to untangle their hands to try to stop Jin Guangyao from bruising his neck and ears between his thighs. He relaxes again quickly though and Nie Mingjue keeps lavishing attention on him as he comes down until Jin Guangyao is shuddering, legs hitching up higher before he settles them on his shoulders again, and weakly bats at his head in a silent plea for him to let him rest.

“Hm,” he hums when he finally pulls off. He frowns a little and raises his gaze to meet Jin Guangyao’s, sleepy and sated but too guarded for his liking after all of that.

“Hm?”

“I had more ideas I wanted to try,” he tells him and he’s mildly surprised by the rasp of his own voice. He smirks a little and lets go of Jin Guangyao’s softening cock to wiggle his fingers in a way he hopes is suggestive enough. “Want me to use Xichen’s trick so we can go again?”

Jin Guangyao drops his head down fully with a breathless laugh, breaking eye contact but maintaining his grip on Nie Mingjue’s hand next to his hip. Nie Mingjue rests his cheek on Jin Guangyao’s thigh and waits him out, pressing a kiss or two to the warm expanse of skin at random just because he can.

“I would rather have you up here,” Jin Guangyao finally admits, too small and unsure for Nie Mingjue’s liking after all of that. “Please.”

Nie Mingjue bangs his knee off the edge of the bedframe in his hurry to do as he’s asked, only pausing long enough to help Jin Guangyao get settled properly before he lays down next to him and pulls him in close to tuck him under his chin and squeeze him in a crushing hug. Jin Guangyao doesn’t protest, he just nuzzles in closer and lingers like that, taking steady, even breaths that he’s so clearly counting his way through. He wants to ask what the hell happened, why he’s clearly upset about something so soon after Nie Mingjue thought he’d just done a decent job of distracting him, but he holds his tongue with an effort.

His patience is rewarded some time later he doesn’t bother to measure except by the gradual slowing of Jin Guangyao’s breath and heartbeat, the steady softening of the tense lines of him until they fit together perfectly. Perhaps he is actually improving at least somewhat with this whole communication business. He can’t shake the feeling that there’s another round of talking in their near future, so he just strokes Jin Guangyao’s back with a slow, steady rhythm and waits on tenterhooks for Jin Guangyao to say whatever’s weighing on his mind.

[acorpsecalledcorva]

Ok actually I might actually have something to say on this. I originally wasn't because the idea of system responsibility/accountability seems like such a no brainer to me I couldn't even think of a response to that thread going around right now that wasn't just "lol, no". Like, if we both have the same information on the topic and that's the conclusion you've come to about it then I simply cannot help you.

I also dislike conversations about things being anti-recovery because there's always nuance where you simply cannot definitively say something is or isn't anti recovery in a way that applies to everyone. I have decided, however, that this topic might actually be dangerously anti-recovery for a lot of people and I'm probably just being a pussy not wanting to poke the hornets nest by avoiding it. So here goes.

A huge complication of this, is of course, the dissonance between therapeutic and community settings. The two will never line up, they will never wholly agree with each other, and there will always be conflict. You can never seamlessly take advice from one, and apply it to the other, not least of all because neither the community nor the therapists we see make up a cohesive hive mind. There are different goals, different methods to achieving those goals, and disagreements on what those goals should be.

That being said, let's at least explore these ideas in their correct contexts and see if it can at least expand our perception and understanding of them. You don't need to relate to these scenarios, simply try to see the topic from the hypothetical systems point of view.

Therapeutic Setting

The host of a system presents at a therapists office. She is aware of her alters and has good relations with many of them but struggles to manage her day to day life. She suffers from an intense fear of abandonment and has incredibly low self esteem. There are several alters in her system that she is deeply concerned about that have created conflict in her life. One is sexually promiscuous and has ended relationships by sleeping with people other than her partners, one that harms the body and is hostile towards her including strongly negative critical thoughts, and one that is dedicated to permanently ending friendships and relationships by being extremely cruel and harmful to the people she cares about. She is very scared of these alters and wants nothing to do with them, she resents them for what they have done and is scared of what they might do. Her goal in therapy is to create greater harmony within her system, to have better collaboration with her alters and reduce the amount of internal and external conflict in her life.

The therapeutic approach in this scenario would be to remind the host that the alters she is afraid of are the result of traumatic events, and formed as part of a defence mechanism to protect her younger self, but that these defence mechanisms have likely gotten stuck and may no longer be appropriate to help with the problems they seek to solve. These alters may also feel alienated from the rest of the system, they might feel like they are being unfairly punished for trying to help and resent the host for pushing them away and punishing her back. Therefore, the path to resolving this issue is to accept these alters for who they are and what they're trying to do. To be grateful for the help they provided in the past and how much they must care for her to do what they do. To work on the fear and apprehension, because everyone in the system is part of the same brain and so will know if she doesn't really mean it, so that everyone can be brought closer together and work collaboratively towards common goals. After all, they all share the same brain, the same body, and must live the same life and what affects one will affect the other.

Community Setting

The host of a system enters the online system community. They are not the original host of the system, and do not go by the bodies name. They join system discord servers as well as follow many systems on social media platforms such as TikTok. They feel at home in these spaces as they are very alter centric. They, and the rest of their system are encouraged to share details about themselves, write lengthy bios, and differentiate themselves from each other. This works well for everyone in the system because it provides a freedom of self expression that is absent from their real world life. The alters find it very validating to establish their own identities and be treated as their own individual selves. These feelings are reinforced by sentiments shared in their communities that no one should force them to fuse, that fusion is equivalent to death, and that parts language is dehumanising. The system does not feel the need to seek therapeutic support as they are happy as a system and have heard accounts that made them wary of being invalidated by a therapist.

There is one alter, however, that likes to get up to mischief and create drama. They often front momentarily to leave inflammatory remarks, don't abide by community guidelines, and keep getting them into trouble. They post to Reddit to ask for advice on how to stop them when they're someone else and they can't control what they do and are told "your alters aren't different people, they're part of you and so it's up to you to work with them to change their behaviour". Well that doesn't sound right. The alter isn't them, that's the whole point of being a system. They decide instead that there's simply nothing they can do about it, that alter has nothing to do with them and controlling their actions would be like trying to control a random person on the street

Now it's completely understandable why two systems from these two settings would come away with completely different perceptions of what being a system is like. Why one would find the other anti-recovery and the other would find the other invalidating. But there is a key commonality between them, and that is both systems are distancing themselves from the alters causing issues, one through fear, and the other through absolvement.

System responsibility in both cases, therefore, is to accept their role in the conflict as an active participant and seek to resolve it. In the therapeutic setting it's to recognise that the hosts fear and resentment, if understandable, is contributing to the furthering of conflict and reactionary behaviour from the alters in question. For the latter system, it's to accept that as individual and different each person within the system is, they still share one body, share one life, use the same phone or computer, and have the same accounts. That they do not get special rights as a system that singlets do not. That if they want access to spaces where they can all be themselves then they all need to agree to abide by the rules or none of them will have access to protect the other members of the community.

Neither of these are nice or enjoyable or easy things to accept, but, and this is the really crucial bit, if you don't take responsibility for your system or your role in an alters behaviour, then you are consenting to the behaviour by your refusal and whether you accept it or not, others will hold you accountable for doing so.

So what's it to be? Do you want your friends and partners to be hurt and lose your access to spaces that you find so affirming? Or do you want to put in the work to build communication, participation, and collaboration with your system so that you can all enjoy your individual lives together?

[timeofjuly]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much for the tag @floofanflurr <3 I am always happy to yap about my fics! I'll pop this below the cut 'cause it's kinda long.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Eight under the timeofjuly account, and a few others scattered around other usernames and the anonymous collection.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 124,470 words, which is kinda crazy to look back on since I only started in August of last year.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Undertale at the moment, but I've written for a few other fandoms in the past.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Resisting the Current

Trick or Heat

Wishbone

Parallel Circuits

And Four Papyri in a Pear Tree

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Always, though it sometimes takes me a little to get around to it. My favourite thing about writing fanfic is the sense of community that you build, so I love getting to chat about the fic in the comments. I always have a million and one thoughts that didn't make it to the page that I'm desperate to share. I also like to say thank you when people go out of their way to comment, because I really appreciate it. As a reader, I know I get super excited when an author replies to my comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm going to go with a few of the RtC 'verse oneshots for this. I think Resolutions from Parallel Circuits ends on a pretty angsty note, particularly compared to the seemingly upbeat start. From Silver String, there will be no answer is pretty bleak and so is on my way home. I'm quite proud of how they both end, actually - I think they're my two strongest endings in the lot.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Any of the smut, probably? They're all set in happy established relationships and end on a cutesy note.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not for a very long time, no! I remember, many many years ago, posting my very first fic on fanfic.net lol and getting a very nasty review about how the reader didn't know the main pairing in the fic was m/m (slash back then, what a blast from the past) even though it was very clearly indicated in the summary and the AN at the start. It goes to show people have been bad at curating their own reading experiences by minding the tags and summaries since forever.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! Mostly established relationship stuff under this username so far.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I'm not super into cross-universe crossovers, but, same as @floofanflurr, I really like playing around with cross fic crossovers. I'm (slowly) writing a crack dialogue-only oneshot where the reader inserts of Wishbone and RtC are stuck together in a broken elevator lol. It's been a fun challenge! It's very very hard to put two characters who are normally referred to in the second person in the same scene, lemme tell you, which is why I ended up choosing to go dialogue only.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not, but I'd be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nothing that I've posted! @marty-parties and I have been messing around with an underfell papyrus/reader fic, though! I also used to rp all the time, which I'd count as cowriting. I miss it very much, even though I used to get super easily overwhelmed by it.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

This is such a tough question. I'll pretty much read anything if I vibe with the ship dynamics (pining and unrequited love my beloved, I will read you anywhere no matter the ship or fandom), but I went through my bookmarks to actually get the stats on this. I used to be super into the mcu (I completely lost interest after endgame) so tony/steve and tony/steve/bucky were the most common ships. I have no clue what my favourite ship would be now, though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Never say never, but I really want to write this horrortale isekai fic I've had bouncing around in my brain. I've fully plotted it out and it's set to only be five chapters, but I'm really struggling to actually write the thing. I have started it, though, so we'll see.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, I think. And even though I mostly gravitate towards writing angsty stuff, I think humour and comedic timing is a strength of mine too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Physical description and settings, 100%. I don't really picture anything in my head when I write, which means all that physical description doesn't make its way onto the page, and when it does, I'm just going off vibes. Particularly with setting - I have zero idea what the locations in any of my fics look like lol. Like, the house in RtC? No clue. Zero.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Really cool! I love it when people do this and I get to translate it, it's like a nice surprise.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, I think? It's all scrubbed from the internet now though.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Wishbone. I am so attached to the Second Mage and Sans and Rus, you have no idea. Particularly Flint, I just adore them. Don't get me wrong, I love the electrician and Quinn and all of my ocs, but I have a special place in my heart for reader inserts who are nasty and hurting and lash out and aren't always the kind, considerate, emotionally stable person in the relationship, forever supporting others. I read something years ago that said to consider how your character is inclined to react to things, both good and bad, and how for lots of people, it's not in our nature to instinctively respond to things with kindness and openness. In fiction, we often expect our POV characters to deal with situations with emotional maturity that we ourselves, along with the majority of irl people, don't have. I think this rings true even more for reader inserts. It's fun to flip this on its head in Wishbone - what if instead of acting with an uncommon kindness, you do the opposite? You get to be flawed. You get to have the murky motives. You get to hurt and in turn you hurt others, and that hurting has real consequences on you and the people around you. This is also a great way to create angst lol - in the non-fell version of Wishbone, where everyone is generally just less of an asshole and therefore makes kinder choices, a lot of the events in the fic just wouldn't happen.

No pressure tag to @covfefeships and anyone else who'd like to do this!

[askthefruitycorpses]

★彡 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 / 𝙋𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤!! 彡★

★.•♫•♬• ▀▄▀▄▀▄ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 ▄▀▄▀▄▀ •♬•♫•. ★

Hi!! Welcome to another Davesport ask blog. We had wanted to make one for some time but never fully thought people would care but we are happy to make one now! The one writing this post is me, @yui-lover-33! This is a blog that is run by me and my boyfriend @xe-the-void !! We co-own the account and general blog and will answer questions separately or together. Most of the time it may be together but don't get your hopes up as we balance our personal lives with this.

This blog won't be too different from many other davesport blogs other than the Dave and Jack are just me and boyfriends vers which just how our own personal projections and changes of backstory. The two aren't fully accurate as they have their differences from the cannon. You can ask them about it or not if you already know and have seen my posts on my main and twitter.

Whats the point of this pinned post?

It's just to better inform you on rules, characters, ownership of said characters, and creator stuff.

Side note: If you wanna know who is who posting or talking look for these indicators!! <:D!

Yui -🦎 Xe - 💜 Both - 💚💜

★彡 ▀▄▀▄▀▄ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ▄▀▄▀▄▀ 彡★

As stated before this will clear up who owns what characters. (Yes, we own and draw specific DSAF characters.) It's not really owning them actually more so which ones we design and claim in the blog.

Keep in mind some are not designed and finished so some may come as a later surprise if you choose to ask them.

Any characters not displayed such as the other Phoneys just don't have designs and may not be included for a while. This may change later down the line, but your stuck with Harry and Rebecca for now.

╰☆☆ ▀▄▀▄▀▄ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ▄▀▄▀▄▀ ☆☆╮

Is asking other DSAF okay?

Generally yes, you can ask whatever characters from DSAF you want here. Our main focus is just Jack and Dave but we will happily do the others if you ask them.

Just wanted to clear that general question up but I'll state the ground rules now

NO NSFW / EXTREMELY SUGGESTIVE/SEXUAL ASKS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!

I of all people want to make this extremely clear as it pisses me the fuck off and I will not tolerate any shit like that. If ones like this are sent I can and will just instantly delete them. Me and my boyfriend are minors as of this post and will not do shit like that. Even if we turn 18 we will not do it due to a younger following!

Please keep stuff SFW and on topic with the blog

From our past experiences with ask blogs, It does nothing but irritate us when people try to insert their characters into the sk blog and do weird things. We both ask that you please stay on topic with the ask blog and account with the fandom and game we are doing please.

Please don't do weird magic Annon shit

We will allow magic annons but in no way any weird shit such as IDK fetish stuff, Possibly genderbending ( since Dave and Jack are trans ), turning characters into kids, and just general gender changing or any stuff like that. asks that discomfort us will always be deleted unless the habit is repeated then we will state it.

Please don't force your ver / ideas onto our versions

The vers we have are very personal to us and we please ask that you don't fetishize, change, be rude, or just generally try to switch them up. We ask that you respect the way we portray them as it is our preferred and most comfortable way.

» For more information on boundaries I recommend you refer to the carrd I made for em :P

☟

Overall, this will get updates over time, but almost half the time we will take the responsibility and charge to delete asks we don't like or don't feel comfortable with asking. It's no harsh feeling but we state what the grounds are here for all of you to know. We just do what we think is best and we just ask that you respect that.

[princess-of-the-corner]

I think Adrien always being on time, Akumas or not, is more indicative of the writers not wanting to do anything with him than it is of Marinette's character with her always being late

Realistically, who should have a harder time balancing their super and civilian lives timewise, the intended to be average girl from a middle class working family, or the teen model who's been well known since he was very young, is the son of a former film star and the fashion designer who's outfits he models, who's super busy and restricting schedule is constantly mentioned? Adrichat.

Except, of course, Adrichats super busy schedule, his controlling father, and the two fully grown and very competent adults who's literal jobs are 'get this kid to this place at this time and don't lose track of him' never actually matter when he needs to be Chat.

But hey, an actual story arc where something like, idk, Adrichat being stuck at an event for so long he completely misses an Akuma fight where Ladybug is barely able to scrape by without him happens long before episode 100, and Adrichat realizes 'oh, this is gonna happen again if I can't figure something out' and he spends a season going back and forth with his father until he finally manages to get Gabriel to drastically cut back on his modeling, which then opens Adrichat up to being involved in his own civilian plots that don't just involve Gabriel being a dick would be ... a fun and interesting use of the characters.

Let's point and laugh at Marinette being late bc she spent so long drooling at...an add of Adrien in his normal civilian outfit.

Bc that's better writing!

(i know we've all pointed out on this blog that Mari getting in good with a bunch of celebrities in the past year kinda defeats the point of her being a 'normal girl with a normal life' but the writers never address that, so I believe they do intend for Mari to be seen as a mostly average teen with a talent for fashion and a secret identity, so thats how I talked about her in this)

Oh yeah no like.

It's absolutely a thing where they should focus on both of them but they just don't.

Because yeah it's. Logically: Adrien /should/ be having far more trouble than Marinette if only because even his free time should be accounted for. While Mari has some genuine free time where she doesn't have anything planned and can do whatever she wants last minute and off schedule and just say to her parents 'hey I'm going to go out' and they're like 'okay cool be back by curfew', Adrien has to request hangouts 4-7 business days beforehand and is often told no because Gabriel is a controlling fuck.

And there's multiple potential stories with this!!

As above: Adrien is having trouble sneaking away to be Chat Noir. Either he ends up being unable to leave and Ladybug suffers for it, or he does leave and ends up missing/late/etc. for his other duties and he's punished for skipping out. Maybe even accidentally making his friends look bad because Gabriel thinks they're bad influences encouraging him to skip out. This forces Adrien to either figure out better ways to sneak off, or he manages to get Gabriel to relax his schedule to allow for 'more social life', or hell maybe we have a Gang of Secrets situation with The Gorilla as the confidant and he helps convince Gabriel that Adrien is where he's supposed to be.

OR! Or! Let Adrien lie. We've already had one or two instances where Adrien sneaks out/lies about where he is. Go full force on it. Sneak around Gabriel by pretending to be where he's supposed to be. Forge notes and gaslight Bustier into thinking his father pulled him out of class. Might be a little tricky since this is a kids show to teach good morals but 1.) HA! 2.) they have Adrien break these rules on occasion anyway and 3.) just have an exchange with Plagg where he suggests sneaking out again for fun social friend things, and Adrien goes 'no, that's wrong. I only break the rules because I have to be Chat Noir and save people! I'm not going to do it for fun!' This could even set up for the Lila plot as a narrative foil in someone who lies because they have to vs. someone who lies for fun and profit. Even hammering it home with Adrien feeling guild despite his situation.

Hell, you could even set up other plots like the Chloé stuff! Have the school staff not report Adrien's absences. Either because they think he'll be like Chloé and demand daddy fixes it, or even have Chloé cover for him by actually playing the card. Whether you see this as her using her abilities for good to help out a friend even though it's still 'wrong' she's trying, or any abuse of power is bad and therefore more proof she's a dick depends on the season.

Just. Could've done plenty with it.

[skadren]

2, 3, 6, and 8 for Tseeve~

send me a ship and a number and i'll tell you:

2. what their love letters look like

i don't think tseng has ever written a love letter before in his life. that is both way too easily perceived and way too impermanent at the same time. what if someone else finds it? what if it gets lost or thrown away or burned before reeve reads it?? what if reeve reads it??? his love letters are grocery store shopping lists stuck to the fridge and reminders for reeve to take his medications and protein bars and hot coffee "coincidentally" left on reeve's desk

reeve has diary entries. sometimes they are addressed to tseng: small jokes, the highlights and low points of his day, his current projects, proposal plans. wedding plans. reeve is a planning kind of guy, for everything. and before they got together, definitely pining. all the pining. he also has at least five separate entries wondering about tseng's hair care routine. his meetings notes may or may not be found with their initials doodled all around the borders (with ample questioning over what tseng's last name is. is tseng even his real name? is reeve a bad boyfriend for not knowing?? but wouldn't asking be an invasion of boundaries???)

3. which one outlives the other, and how they cope

both of them expect to die before the other. reeve because of how many goddamn medications he has to take and that must be terrible for his liver, and also he's older so that's how it works, right? tseng because of his line of work, and later on after he retires, because of the lingering issues from his past injuries. and the real reason is that neither of them want to think too hard on what it might actually be like to go on alone.

unfortunately tseng dies first. you can blame @takenbynumbers for that one. you know what you did

reeve puts on a pretty good attempt at going on outwardly unaffected, although he finally retires and passes on the seat of commissioner to someone else, like he'd been saying he would do for ages now. but he's never been very good at remembering to take care of himself; tseng is always the one who bossed him into doing it. so he sort of just... gives up on it?

(vincent accuses him of just giving up and waiting to die. reeve doesn't think he's wrong.)

6. how they decorate their bedroom

neither of them are big on excess so i guess it would be a pretty... normal? bedroom? there is a bed. big enough to fit both of them but not too big, because what if one of them gets lonely at night? the bed itself isn't anything fancy; sturdy and comfortable with enough support for reeve's back. plain sheets. they have two sets of blankets that are horribly mismatched because one reminds reeve of the quilts his ma liked to make and the other is a gift from yuffie that tseng will never admit is the exact same pattern of blanket he remembers his mom using when he was a child.

they both have a nightstand but desks are banned from the bedroom. deskwork is also banned from the bedroom. not that it keeps reeve from trying to sneak paperwork once in a while.

cait also has a cat bed in one corner (even though he really does not need a bed on account of the whole robot thing). he gets exiled regularly but it works out because he does not want to see his dads getting it on, thank you very much.

8. what they argue about

reeve always tosses his clothes in the general direction of the laundry hamper and misses. tseng's hair clogs the shower and gets all over the floor all the time. tseng hates taking out the trash and reeve never remembers to do it.

more seriously, even if their dedication to their work is something they have in common, neither of them like how little free time it gives them to spend together. it can lead to arguments over exactly how much the other person prioritizes their relationship at all, especially since the way they express their feelings and validation for one another is very different-- reeve's love language is physical affection and verbal affirmation, while tseng's is acts of service. coupled with how reticent tseng is about talking about feelings at all, it can lead to reeve feel like he's lovebombing tseng to little response, while tseng feels like he's never good enough at reciprocating properly.

but their biggest argument of all time is still the one that takes place directly after the turks drop the plate. there is a lot of broken trust between them regarding whether their relationship was as meaningful as reeve really thought it was, how much tseng has been hiding all this time, whether reeve wanted to be with tseng at all or just an idealized version of him. i fondly refer to the entire time they spend separated until they get back together postcanon as their divorce arc.

[anxiousotters]

5 things I like to write about

All my love to @cookiemonsterv3 for the tag!!

1. Redemption - I really like looking at villains or just antagonistic characters and asking “Why did you do it?” and ��If things were different, would you have made different choices?”. Obviously I don’t think bad decisions should be excused, but far too often I see villains/ antagonists either A) sacrifice themselves to absolve them of the consequences of their actions or B) apologize for their actions but never do anything further. I love writing villains/ antagonists who make the choice to apologize, take accountability for their actions and own them, and try to reconcile and do better for their communities. I like when characters choose to do the hard work of acknowledging their faults and becoming better people, proving it’s possible to come back (can you tell I really want Pride and Prejudice from Mr. Darcy’s POV?)

2. Religion/ Culture - I love exploring religion or religion-equivalents, how they function, and how characters interact with their religion, or religious around them that they’re not members of. In a similar vein, I love writing about culture and when a fictional culture isn’t completely fleshed out or has room for additions, I love adding little bits of my own culture to it (eg. detailing mandalorian formal tunics with Celtic embroidery). I also love writing cultural clashes, like what happens when two opposing cultures are forced to share space with each other. I just like it when characters learn that the other culture is full of different (but still important) things, and both sides learn to appreciate the other

3. Banter - who doesn’t love a good bit of banter? Honestly I don’t think writing banter is my strongest suit, but I love it anyways, especially sibling banter. As one of four kids with an additional gaggle of 30+ cousins, I really write how I think me and my siblings/ cousins would interact (or have interacted in the past) when I write banter. It always makes me giggle, and I love giving my characters siblings/ friends who are as close as siblings for this reason. I also love the tension and excitement that comes with writing romantic banter, especially if the characters aren’t together yet. Delicious stuff

4. Forged Family - you’ve seen found family, this is the same dish but with a hint of forced proximity and trauma. I like writing about found family where the family bonds form because the characters have suffered so much together and still choose to protect and love each other like family. The sentiment is very “I’m stuck with you, but I’d also choose to love you in every lifetime”

5. Rivals to Lovers - in same vein as banter, but different. I like a good conflict, I like the tension, I like the slow build/ melting of ice that comes with rivals to lovers. Specifically I like it best when the conflict comes from external/ cultural reasons and not miscommunication. I just think it’s juicer when the rivals actually have to learn to get along because they’re different in ways that cause friction, rather than they’re not having an important conversation that could solve everything. Almost all of my favourite ships are rivals to lovers, and I like to put the ones that aren’t into situations where they are (oops)

No pressure tags: @thenookspace, @firefly-fez, @maraliga, @ferretrade and anyone else who wants to play!!