#i feel like this must be known information yet i’ve never seen it discussed that i can recall

[12msweekly]

Chapter 4 Text

Hello. It’s me, James Wiclow, writer of this journal and navigator for “the winter’s storm.” And I think I may have encountered a Piece of magic I’ve never seen before. I must inform you of this, as this has taken up much of my day and controlled my thoughts. I believe a very powerful force is working to force me away from the sea of forests. 

To explain what has happened, I must start at the beginning. This morning, I was getting prepared to set out on my journey to the sea of forests, to be the navigator for a simple supply run mission to the Empire of Salion. In my excitement, I woke up extremely early, so early that it was still dark, and the stars were still out. I checked the position of the stars to confirm that the Portal to the sea of forests would still appear in the same place. To my utter Surprise, the stars had changed. Drastically. No other Way is appearing, except Ways to the sea of gold.

From an academic standpoint, the sea of gold is quite significant regarding conversations about the creation of different worlds, as the sea of gold is by far the sea that is most likely to be created by an intelligent being. The quote on quote “perfectness” of the sea of gold as well as the unique shape of the planet leads most academics, including myself, to thinking that it was created by an intelligent being. 

This current situation is one for the books, to put it lightly. Manipulation of “ways” is theorized to be impossible, as completing that would require moving many major celestial bodies, but that seems to be what has happened. I do not know how this is going to effect major movement between our world and the 12 seas, as while we may be able to get to the sea of forests from the sea of gold, the dangerous nature of the sea of gold sanctions a well deserved fear of that sea. I will meet with my crew today and discuss our plans, as this is detrimental to our plan as a crew to travel to the sea of forests, as well as my personal plan to visit my friends, the elves, in that sea. 

I am curious to visit the sea of gold, as it is a sea I have yet to travel to. The biggest danger, and honestly, the only danger in the sea of gold is an effect known only as “Gold Fever.” This “Sickness,” is one of the mind. The sea of gold is functionally “perfect,” with the sea and the wildlife being docile as well as delicious. Many people wish to stay, as life there is easy. From what I have read, there is a magical effect on the sea that keeps people wanting to stay, affecting their brain with a subtle madness. Even people not under the direct effect of this spell cannot tell that their allies are under it, as the influenced thought process of the affected person seems reasonable. 

I know of some Nondoi researchers from the sea of tears have done a lot of study into the sea of gold. If my crew intends to stay here in the mainland I will contact them for their knowledge. I believe they may still be here. If we decide to go forward into the sea of gold, and possibly travel from there to the sea of forests, or the sea of stars, I must accompany them. They will die without me. 

I know during my last entry I stated that the life I live is boring, or so terrifying that it makes it all not worth it, but I must take that back for this one specific situation. I am really quite excited that I’m in a place where I can be on the front lines of discovering this mystery, and not stuck working for my father, or stuck in the navy. Whichever way my crew decides we are going, I have a feeling my life is changing for the better!

There is a pandemonium. Even stepping out of my house, the bottom 3 stories of what used to be a 10 foot tall stone sentry tower, I could see issues about. There is a large influx of boats in the harbor by my home, and as my home overlooks the sea and is perceived as being important, there were many people outside of my home, asking questions about what had happened. As well as,,, Witches. In broad daylight. 

I suppose I must explain this. Many years ago, the empires of man sought to eradicate witchcraft, and doing so they forced witches out of their homes, and eventually they ended up at the coasts of the land. These witches made agreements with pirates and other unsavory groups. For protection from the governments of man, these witches will protect these pirates with their dark magic. Zarra, the goddess of witchcraft, was so pleased that she flooded her home domain and made it into the 12th sea, the sea of curses. She also blessed all her witches with the supernatural ability to track the creation of Ways. 

With that stain on the world’s history over with, I can continue. I quickly made my way to the docks, where every manner of people from every manner of sea were leaving. From what I overheard, not only did the stars move making navigator’s jobs more difficult, but Zarra is being unresponsive, meaning witches cannot track ways as well. Another point for us in the battle against dark magic. 

I am now on my ship, the winter’s storm, and just talked with my crew. The Empire of Salion is maybe ramping up for war, which is news to me, and these materials will be rations for their people. Our mission is far more dire than I previously thought. We held a vote, and much of the crew seemed surprised in me voting to carry on with the mission. The news of this oncoming war scares me, even though it is not surprising to me that the elves are entering combat with their neighbors. 

Despite my protesting, my captain Jeanne has made contact with some witches, who say that the number of ways is increasing, and that many ways to the sea of gold are being created. This backs up the idea of the sea of gold being controlled and created by a creature. We leave in 2 hours for the sea of gold.

[agoldenlily]

honorhearted​:

Elayne’s palm remained splayed over his chest, small and gentle, and somehow so fragile there within the glimmering candlelight. Benjamin kept her anchored there, no longer fearing how she might feel the frantic thrum-thrum-thrum of his heart.

For so long, he hadn’t allowed himself a kind word, let alone a kind touch in this war – not if he wished to harden his heart towards loss – so it was almost pathetic how quickly he unraveled beneath such a simple, yet intimate gesture.

"I…yes,” he fumbled, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I see no disgrace in admitting how remarkable you’ve been… In truth, your social skills have danced circles around even my most seasoned of men. I’m…a bit bowled over, I must confess – and ready to eat crow for being so certain that this is no true arena for a woman’s touch.”

Elayne asked to follow his lead – perhaps an attempt at soothing his bruised pride – and with a lopsided little smile, Benjamin lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It was a quick, easy gesture, and one he assured himself was for the benefit of their potential onlookers. “Yes,” he agreed. “Let’s.”

When the faux couple returned to their designated spot, they were quite easily able to fall into step alongside Mrs. Havenshire. Just like with everyone else in the room, Elayne seemed to have earned the woman’s immediate favor. Despite Benjamin’s earlier frustrations, he couldn’t help but feel a slight sting of pride at the way the loyalist all but fawned over his partner; had he perhaps had a hand in this, after all?

By the end of their discussion, the unlikely duo learned that Mr. Havenshire was, indeed, stationed in the Morristown encampment, but under the alias of Dr. Peter Atwell. He gathered information from his sick rebel patients, and from there wrote home coded messages to his wife, who then passed along the intelligence to British officers in both York City and Philadelphia.

Benjamin was aghast. Both nettled and exhilarated, he thanked the woman for her time, then all but dragged Elayne off until they were once more inside their designated carriage.

“Can you believe our luck?” he crowed. “By God, I’ve never had a mission go so swimmingly in all my life…” Giddy, he leaned forward and propped his elbows onto his knees, beaming at Elayne while she sat across from him. “I confess to not being familiar with ‘Dr. Atwell,’ but I’m friends with the head surgeon in the Morristown encampment. If nothing else, he should be able to track him down for us, and then we can put a stop to the infiltration.”

Pleased, Benjamin leaned back again with a sigh. “And you?” he asked. “Earlier, you were behaving as though you wished to tell me something…” Far too uplifted to be dragged down, he teased, “Is this the part where you tell me you’re actually working for General Clinton?”

It really did pain her to have to deflate him. He seemed utterly, and entirely, overwhelmed at the thought of how tonight went. She could understand why. The things that they had learned were almost unbelievable. She had expected some success when she had used a bit of her magic but this was absolutely beyond that line of thinking. Of course she had been more than thrilled by the events but now that it had all died down she was faced with the aftermath.

She listened to him talk, as she reached up to undo her hair. This was Benjamin after all, was it not normal for her to do so in front of him? She was about to admit to him the most personal thing that she could ever confess to him so what were a few pins? She wished that she could breathe a bit more as well but Elayne figured that was much too much for a simple carriage ride. Even if he had known her nearly her entire life.

He was teasing her now! Actually teasing her and she felt a coil of guilt wrap around her as she stared into his eyes. She liked this side of him and, especially lately, she hadn’t seen this side of him very often. It seemed he was burdened by this war more than anything.

A soft laugh parted from her but it lacked all amusement from the evening. She shouldn’t dampen things but she felt absolutely terrible lying to him. She knew that she shouldn’t. She knew that maybe this was something that she should keep to herself but she treasured Benjamin far too much in her life to continue lying to him. 

“Nothing like that.” She finally replied and then she reached her hand out and almost shockingly she touched her hand over his, trying to offer some kind of comfort to him in the moment leading up to what she was about to tell him.

“Benjamin...” She began, avoiding her eyes and keeping her tone soft and somewhat broken even. A shaky breath fell from her as she lowered her eyes. “...I have something to tell you. Tonight did not happen because of ordinary means. I might have...” she paused briefly and then met his eyes. “...I might have used magic.”

[starbuck]

I’ve been wondering how many lashes Hickey ultimately got in Punished As A Boy and I’ve thought for awhile it might be 23 (aka the number of times Hickey stabs Irving in the chest in ep 7) so this time I counted and yep! It’s 23 lashes!

[getosboobies]

reasons i think matchablossom is or has been canon!

once again, i have become overly obsessive and have throughly analysed each and every kaoru & kojiro scene that we currently have. i indulged and created my own list of “ are they besties or are they banging or both “ but i have decided to share it all with you :))

( keep in mind, i’m a reacher and these are just my interpretations. i will go to any extent to prove myself correct - no matter how unlikely )

so first of all, we have the fact cherry is the only one we have yet to see at joe’s restaurant after hours. this immediately shows that they are extremely comfortable with each other and spend a lot of time together even when they’re not skating. it also potentially suggests cherry is waiting for joe to go home, maybe a habit they’ve developed over time. before these scenes, the producers always show an image of the restaurants front door which states closed. by showing this frame, it obviously gives the impression it’s important for us to know that it is closed and therefore showings us that joe and cherry’s relationship is more than just some rivalry banta and that they have an established friendship built on trust and time. the creators could have just not shown that it was closed and had us assume that’s they were just good friends who spent time together but they went a whole step further and showed us these two men’s personal lives are somewhat intertwined with one another, showing us that they don’t have large boundaries for each other which would be considered strange in contrast to the “ arguing “ we had previously seen between them. if this isn’t enough for you, in these scenes we also see joes uniform unbuttoned so i take this as even more evidence of how comfortable they are around each other. also ! restaurants tend to close quite late ( avg. 8pm-12pm ) and on all the shots of the closed door, it has been dark outside. why wouldn’t cherry be home at this time settling down or something??? or maybe cherry has a lot of love for joe if he’s willing to wait that long for him to finish work... just sayin’. more on this, i analysed the restaurants design and noticed that the plug in the wall is really low down to the ground. maybe this is just one of joes odd design techniques or maybe it was specifically placed for cherry to charge carla, the concept of which, makes me very happy

keeping on the point of joe’s restaurant, whenever we have seen cherry inside he always sits right in front of the kitchen, this is pretty normal unless you think about 1) how much time he spends there 2) how busy restaurants get 3) he came there while he was with a colleague. we’ve already seen that cherry doesn’t mind coming after hours so why did he come during the day if he knew joe would be busy? this is similar to the fact he came in with his colleague in episode 2 - he obviously wasn’t expecting to be able to talk with joe while he was out for a work meal, so why on earth would he sit right in front of where joe would be, which is situated in a considerably inconvenient table for work meal? what i’ve interpreted from this is that cherry’s must enjoy being in joes presence. cherry canonically having anxiety would explain why he likes being close to someone who he knows well, and that cares for him. being able to see and hear joe so close is perhaps very relaxing for cherry.

now when i watched sk8 for the first time, i gather the impression that joe was a forgive and forget kinda guy when it came to someone who did him wrong. when we’re introduced to adam it’s evident there is some hostility within joe but this does not nearly compare to the anger cherry showed. when suggesting a beef their intentions seem to be completely different. cherry outrightly admitting to his grudge and anger for adam whereas joe seems to just want to prove a point to adam by winning against him ( i mean look at the image above, their facial expressions show it all ). but i noticed that as cherry would speak about adam, joe’s intentions slowly shifted and became far more serious and full of anger. “ there’s someone i’d like to punch “ is a sentence said by joe in episode 8. this is quite different to what we had seen in earlier episodes of him just wanting to make a point. i think this shift was predominantly when joe found cherry at the ocean view. joe knew how cherry was feeling towards adam BEFORE this scene because he knew where to find him, but the realisation that cherry was standing there, alone, and reliving some of his saddest memories probably hit joe that cherry couldn’t do this alone. therefore stepped up his game and met cherry’s loathing so they could do it together. as far as things go, this is one of the most important things they have done for each other because it shows clearly how devoted they are to each other.

this is one of the most confusing lines in this show thus far. i’m sure it’ll make sense in the oncoming episodes but i have come to two conclusions. so either adam has created this false reality of what happened and has told himself his evil ways stemmed from joe and cherry or, the more likely in my opinion, adam always felt like he was in need of a partner, a rival but also someone to love. this is displayed in the show in his predatory ways, aka, he wants his own ‘eve’. now there’s no ruling whatsoever that a skater needs any sort of dedicated rival, or skate partner, so i believe adam probably got this want from his peers, for example, joe and cherry. adam seems to believe you need to love your ‘eve’ and it gives me the idea that maybe he saw joe and cherry -in love- and decided that was what he wanted, but then as we know he went about it in an extremely toxic way. the “was it so“ was really hard to interpret, he’s clearly quite smug by the way he shrugs and smiles and shows that he’s very confident about what he’s saying but the question is short and leaves a lot unknown, which suggests why cherry and joe don’t respond. either they are as confused as i am, or they have a slight idea what adam could be suggesting and they feel guilty. we all know cherry and joe aren’t bad hearted people but as adam is insinuating ‘no, you guys parted ways from me first’ it could suggest that joe and cherry had perhaps become closer in high school and had developed a stronger bond than they had with adam and this left adam feeling lost and alone. this is more of a canon compliant headcanon that would make sense rather than a fact but it’s certainly something to think about.

one of the most obvious factors in their relationship is how they always know what the other is thinking or planning. we’ve seen in recent episodes that when cherry was racing, joe knew exactly what his motive was even without discussing it, thats enough information to show how well they truly know each other and how connected they really are. it’s also shown with cherry. when joe is racing, and is going extremely fast towards the corner, we see a frame of miya and shadow being worried for him, but then it shifts to cherry watching and there’s not a spec of worry on his face because he KNOWS what joe is planning and knows he will be fine. they know each other’s techniques better than anyone and it shows they don’t doubt each other’s choices one bit.

we learn right from the beginning that cherry and joe like to argue and fight, at first we think this is because they dislike each other but we learn that they are best friends. so when watching back you notice that none of the insults are ever actually insulting. let’s think about it, the most common insults they use are gorilla, dimwit and four-eyes. now to me, none of these actually seem insulting whatsoever and even if they do like to argue a lot it’s obvious they never ever mean any harm to one another.

from analysing the scenes one of the things i’ve noticed the most is how cherry and joe turn up and leave together. when the cops came during the langa x adam skate they both started to run off together leaving everyone else behind. as we know, they spend a lot of their personal lives together but leaving and turning up together every single time we’ve see them there seems like they’re a bit more attached than i originally thought. there’s a chance they meet before hand but why always that late at night? why aren’t they ever at home alone? unless...they live together. i mean it’s a perfectly valid suspicion right now as we’ve never seen either of their homes and we’ve never seen either of them turn up anywhere alone but either way it confirms they spend an awful lot of time together in general life. going back to my original point of them not only turning up and leaving together but they also never leave each other’s sides. there’s a heap of frames that you can see them standing together watching a beef or even just them talking. they’re literally attached at the hip and nothing makes me happier.

the creators of the show have made countless points to show that joe and cherry have a lot of history. from the school references to the fact they have TRAVELLED THE WORLD TOGETHER. they could have just shown one or two so we know that as a general fact they’ve known each other a long time but they bring it up an awful lot for it to be just a general fact. this being shown so much let’s us know that this is important information and that they’ve obviously wanting to lay down a foundation to bring something crucial up. so far they have mentioned their social studies trip, a school excursion, joes love for haunted houses, holiday to La and the Paris bar they went to. now you might be thinking, oh they were in the same school they probably just went on a trip together nothing confirms they were close, well i am here to prove that statement false. joe said he found cherry’s wallet, this not only shows that joe was close to cherry when he lost it but also that he knew where to find it, showing how well he knew cherry. another point is that legal age to drink in Paris is 18 so unless they had fake ID it’s safe to say this is a trip they’ve done since becoming adults and leaving school. it’s also canon that have gone together, so the fact they’ve been travelling as adults together is quite interesting. same with the restaurant in LA, sounds kinda like a date.

over the course of the episodes we’ve seen so far there has been a few comments they have made to each other that suggest a little bit of jealousy. for cherry, these comments are made in episode 6 in the hot spring. cherry brings up joes love for haunted houses and then joe agrees and says it’s because “chicks get scared and grab onto me” * with a smirk *. now what’s interesting about this is cherry’s response. “you really are a scumbag” this insult feels a lot more insulting than usual and the response itself surprised me. at this moment cherry looks away from joe which is an action people tend to do when they’re hurt or pissed off. either works in this scenario but neither make much sense as we know cherry’s already aware of joes status with girls. so why was he mad? well this was obviously a fond memory of cherry’s and joe replying with a statement about girls probably made him a bit angry because that was supposed to be their memory. but joes smirk with the comment makes me rethink, did he state that on purpose to make cherry jealous? obviously we can’t be sure but the entire encounter left me a bit confused. now onto joes jealousy, in episode 2 dub joe says “dude, you’re talking to a machine?” now in context this seems like joe is partially bewildered by the fact cherry is casually talking to his AI skateboard but he also seems slightly jealous that cherry is talking to carla instead of talking to him. this is one of the only scenes where joes facial expressions actually seem insulted rather than just having a bit of fun. he follows this up with “figured you’d give your board a girls name seeing as you can’t get a real one!” why can’t he get a real one? we hear tonnes of girls screaming compliments at cherry when he turns up so he definitely could get a girlfriend if he wanted, and joe no doubt knows this too, so why would he use it as an insult? i’m not sure what to make of this but it’s got to be a factor somewhere.

more on the haunted mansion chit chat, the line about chicks grabbing onto joe is quite funny when you look at the entire scene, because as soon as they get jumped they grabbed onto each other in fear. seems a little ironic if i do say so myself.

they both seem very secluded about their personal lives. cherry more specifically does not like the use of his skate name in his personal life or vice versa. joe is the only one we have seen to be aware or use cherry’s real name. the way joe slips up and calls cherry ‘kaoru’ at “S” shows how close they are and how much time they spend together to be able to accidentally mix up the two parts of their lives. this is just an extra point on how conjoined their lives must really be. in the photo above we see how cherry easily calms joe down when he starts to get annoyed. joe is the only one who knows fully about cherry’s life as emotions and cherry is the same for joe.

now one of the most heart wrenching matcha blossom scenes is when joe finds cherry at the ocean view. i have a lot to say about this so let’s start at the beginning. first of all, joe noticed cherry was missing. it’s not like cherry was there for a massive amount of time, so joe noticing that cherry was gone for even as much as an hour or two really says a lot about the placement they have in each other’s lives. there was really no reason for joe to worry about where cherry was considering they’re grown adults but he continued to go out and find him anyways. this is also set in the late afternoon judging by the sky, whereas the previous scene had been set at night at “s”, so this is suggesting the ocean view scene is on a completely different normal day for them (another factor showing how much time they spend together). next, the fact joe knew exactly where to find cherry. this truly shows how much they know and how connected they are to each other but also how well they understand the others coping mechanisms. cherry was dwelling on memories from 7 years ago and yet joe still knew exactly what he was doing and what he was thinking about. plus cherry didn’t even seem surprised when joe turns up. but one thing i noticed is that in this scene is the way they (in this case, didn’t) hold eye contact. while cherry is faced away, joe is staring at him but as soon as cherry meets joes eyes, joe turns away. either joe didn’t want to be caught staring or joe realised something crucial in that moment. i’ll let your mind decide what that is.

obviously, miyas comment about joe and cherry being his parents is a light hearted joke just to ruin joes chances of flirting with girls but it also implies that the group can tell that joe and cherry are respectively closer than anyone originally thought and they perhaps have caught on that the tension between them is a little bit too gay to be just a bit of banta. obviously in this scene we then see joe looking at cherry’s legs while a blush clearly intensifies on his face. yeah no, this is self explanatory.

one of the things i like about joe and cherry’s relationship is the fact that within that joe also has a somewhat dynamic with carla. although carla is non-living, there has been several interactions between them. for example the beginning of episode 6 on the boat joe recognises carlas voice immediately. i mean straight off i think it’s suspicious as hell that they all happened to be going there at the same time but the fact joe realised cherry must be there because of the sound of an AI skateboard? that’s impressive. also, at the beginning of the series carla is aware of who joe is when calling joe an imbecile, this shows that cherry has obviously had this modified to specifically refer to joe as joe rather than just refer to him as a general person.

there was a popular tiktok i saw the other day (if anyone has the username of the person please tell me so i can credit them!!) and it showed the two images above. in these photos it shows joes skateboard and his odd looking wheels. the creator of this video further analysed that these reflect the general outlook of a cherry blossom flower. though the actual wheels in real life don’t look as similar to a flower as they do in the show. but now if this is what they’re meant to look like, this is a really sentimental fact and shows how highly joe thinks of cherry in his skating career. but what about his personal life? well that’s where my analysing comes in. i noticed in the dessert joe makes in episode 5 he had a range of fruits displayed on the top as well as a single flower. this flower looks identical to a cherry blossom. once again the reflection of cherry within joes life makes an appearance. we’ve seen that flowers actually mean something in this show (toxic example but adam’s red roses for langa) so it would make sense for this to actually mean something about their relationship. i studied a range of Japanese desserts and, although every chef works differently, most of the dishes tend to only have a display of fruits and no flowers. so i have come to the conclusion that this dish certainly had some symbolism to cherry in joes life, some way or another.

so overall, their dynamic already shows that they have a very thin and mistakable line between very close best friends and potential lovers. although some of this was based off personal interpretation the majority is cinematic displays and general facts. so take this and use it however you like. let me know your opinions and other factors you have! for all i know i could be completely disproven with the next few episodes but surely if this many people see a bit more than just a friendship there’s got to be a reason for it.

if we can have one lgbt+ character... why not two more?

[kindestegg]

Deltarune: On tea, relationships, and why people probably need to stop exaggerating

Alright, so ever since the introduction of the “character flavored” teas in chapter 2, there has been a lot of discussion about them. If you haven’t heard of it yet, in Deltarune Chapter 2, there’s an item that’s a tea that you can buy from an NPC and choose the flavor of, giving you a flavor that is named after a party member. So, Kris tea, Noelle Tea, Susie Tea, and Ralsei Tea.

The fun thing about this item is that it can more or less be used to “track” the relationships between the characters, so to speak. For example, if Noelle has the Susie tea, even if she’s not supposed to drink it due to normally leaving the party, she’ll still have a reaction to it, wondering if they would sell this in gallons and recovering an absurd amount of HP, 400 to be precise.

(this is long as hell, so please continue reading under the cut)

These teas are also actually a reference to a book series Toby is a fan of, Sideways Stories from Wayside School, which does have a chapter about students having ice cream flavored after their classmates. This is most evident when the characters drink their own tea, which tastes like nothing to them and recovers the least amount of HP: 10. In the books, the students also could not perceive the taste of their own flavor of ice cream.

So, the fandom gets ahold of this information and starts testing out the teas and how characters react to them, right? The thing is, I’ve seen people kind of exaggerate the importance of these items and even the meanings of them, and while I think everyone’s entitled to harmless headcanons speculating on the relationship of characters, the problem is people are using these teas as immutable proof and part of their theories.

One of such exaggerations comes mostly in the form of the infamous Ralsei Tea, as to which Kris apparently does not show much reaction, though curiously Ralsei is still happy to see Kris drinking it, and it only recovers 60 HP. For reference, the teas usually cap at a good 120 HP, which is when a character loves the flavor, Noelle being the outlier because she really is just that in love with Susie. For the most part the Fun Gang has pretty positive reactions to each other’s flavor of teas, recovering 120 HP… with the exception of Kris’ reaction towards Ralsei tea.

And the problem starts now: Due to this, people started using this little tidbit in their theories, claiming this was proof that Kris actually dislikes or even hates Ralsei, that we should be ashamed of ourselves for making Kris hug Ralsei, that it is torture for them that we choose nice dialogue options towards Ralsei, some going as far as to claim this is somehow tied to the infamous “Ralsei is secretly evil” theories.

But does this speculation hold any actual weight when analyzed more deeply?

… No. I’m sorry, it just does not, I’m not going to entertain this. In this post, I’m going to deconstruct how the teas really work, and exactly why claiming that this is good enough proof that Kris would dislike Ralsei is an exaggeration at best and downright false at worse.

To truly make a precise conclusion, we must first look at the full picture. We know that 10 HP means “tastes like nothing”, and we know that 120 HP means “tastes amazing”, but are there any other reactions that aren’t either 10 or 120, aside from the 60 HP we already know from Ralsei tea?

Pictured: Noelle reacting to Kris tea.

Pictured: Kris reacting to Noelle tea.

Pictured: Ralsei reacting to Noelle tea.

Pictured: Noelle reacting to Ralsei tea.

I think what people forget here is that you don’t have to really adore someone or outright hate them. Sometimes you’re more neutral on people. And I think that’s what happens here. As you can see here, Ralsei recovers 10 less HP for Noelle than Kris does for him, and still calls her flavor “soft and sweet”. Meanwhile, Noelle claims his tea has “nothing in it”, even though she still recovers 50 hp.

Does this somehow mean Ralsei hates Noelle, or she hates him, for that matter? … No, that wouldn’t make sense, they just met, they know nothing about each other. We do learn here one important thing though, flavor is not tied to HP recovery, as in, the flavor of each character’s tea will taste different to a different person based on what they perceive of them.

As a comparative example, while Kris tea tastes like apple juice to Susie due to her always smelling the apple shampoo they use, Kris tea tastes like blueberries, which is a reference to Kris’ appearance in the Dark World. So while Ralsei tea tastes like nothing to Noelle as she can’t perceive him well enough yet, it still heals 50 HP due to it not being her own tea, and Ralsei heals for the same amount, but he seems to perceive others based on appearance and wants to find something good to say, so he ends up tasting it as something “soft and sweet” because that’s what Noelle appears like.

We can also gain a new “base” HP recovery that is accounted for when characters drink tea that is not their own: 50 HP. And we know 50 HP means “I was literally just made aware of your existence and can’t comment much on you yet”. Now, if you look at Kris and Noelle, they recover 70 HP from each other’s tea. In Noelle’s words, they have been neighbors their entire lives, yet they still find it hard to call each other friends, necessarily. Although you can choose the prompt “we’re friends”, the reasoning still stands: Kris and Noelle just don’t have that much to say about each other. If you remember, when you visit Rudy at the hospital in chapter 1, then Noelle afterwards, they’ll comment on how Kris usually isn’t as involved or interested in their neighbor’s business, suggesting they really don’t hang out as much as you’d think.

So, 50 HP, 70 HP. Where does that leave us for Ralsei’s 60 HP? Does it actually reveal evidence of hatred or at least dislike?

… The answer, if you’ve been paying any attention, is no, of course not. If 50 HP means “literally just learned the other exists” while 70 HP means “not exactly great friends but have known each other for a long time and shared memories”, then that puts Ralsei at a pretty advantageous spot all things considered. Even with him acting somewhat suspicious, even with him being a creature from an entirely new magical world Kris was made aware of literally a day ago, even with Ralsei’s clingy behavior, Kris considers him more than just some random person they just met, and almost a good acquaintance to the level of Noelle.

And sure, you could still bring up comparisons to the higher HP recoveries, like Susie recovering 120 HP from everyone despite also not really being exactly friends with any of these people for too long, and for that I will say…

That girl will eat anything and considering they are all flavors she enjoys she’ll obviously down it in a second, and

Susie is just… a more open person. Once you get her guard down and let her know you truly want to be her friend and think she is cool, she’ll immediately consider you a friend and part of her team. (It’s also kind of sad in a way because it shows she may be desperate for the feeling of belonging but let’s not get into that right now).

Kris, however, is a much more reserved person. Once again I must remind you how everyone in Hometown comments about Kris not usually being very outgoing or talkative. Hell, even when they drink Noelle tea, no one can tell whether they like it or not. Susie may be an exception to this rule, simply because they do have a lot in common, particularly to the fact she was also always an awkward quiet person that their classmates could never place and would often get in trouble. Even if she was mean to them and a downright bully in chapter 1, teens can still have some pretty weird appreciations, and you can tell they must have been wanting to befriend her from the start. It simply just is a better relationship to them. Otherwise, people they haven’t invested in knowing well will probably not cause the same reaction.

Bottom line is… why are we having this debate again? In the end, it feels rather silly. Yes, Kris doesn’t recover 120 HP from Ralsei tea. Big deal? That doesn’t mean they hate or even dislike him, that there’s a deep turmoil and conflict going on between the two already. Ralsei is just a new friend they are still getting used to, that’s it. Can’t blame the kid for having boundaries.

For further proof, if you learn more about the content that is being referenced here, you’ll learn that in the same chapter of the book, there is actually a way for one’s flavor to taste “horrible�� due to a person being perceived that way, but at no point in these reactions it’s suggested anyone’s flavor tastes bad, that any of them are disgusted, so I doubt any of these reactions can be seen as dislike.

Dang… this got a little long… but I just felt like I had to make this post because, reiterating, I find myself a little irritated at the fact people will use the tea’s reactions as part of their theories, claiming it as actual proof, when it is far from proving anything.

And before someone brings it up, yes, Kris has been shown to prefer Susie over Ralsei, do I have to point out the flaw in that logic? Preferring someone doesn’t mean you outright dislike the other person.

Moral of the story is: Don’t take conclusions for your theories without good backing in canon, feel free to make your headcanons but don’t state it as proof, byeee.

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: prince xiao x servant gn reader

req: no | wc: 1.62k | royal au

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (you are here) | part 5

taglist: @hanniejji

a/n: low graphic pic

The following days at the palace are tense. Nobody wants to speak about Rex Lapis’s death, in fear that it will spike a new argument. Servants that rush and bustle around the halls can barely even stare at each other, for the siblings’ fights are so harsh and loud that their horrible words still ring in their ears.

Before, as the servants dined together, they spread hearsay. Now the dining hall is silent, with the only sound being cutlery and plates. Each loud clunk of cutlery against porcelain is piercing in their ears.

Rex Lapis upheld a certain peace. With his death, there was anticipation around the corner of every action. Would the kingdom collapse? Who would take the spot of monarch?

The Adepti’s meeting with the Liyue Qixing was only in a few days. If the reunion failed to find a new ruler, doom would surely initiate.

But that was not a servant’s burden. For now, as one of the most trusted, you were to speak with the funeral parlor to begin preparations for the Rite of Parting.

It had been many years since the last Rite of Parting took place, a parting wish for one of the Adepti. Each one was directed and prepared by the Wangsheng Funeral parlor, the only funeral parlor in the kingdom. Their current director was infamous for her humorous spirit, rare for solemn occasions, but however they may behave, the Rite of Parting will not be a matter to be laughed at.

Their consultant was also famous, even in his short term of work. He was known to be calm, reserved, polite, and extremely knowledgeable. Though his reputation did not prepare you to see your supposedly dead king again.

He smiles politely at you from his office chair while you gape at him. Gathering your manners, you greet him with a bow, “Pleasure to be doing business with you, mr. Zhongli. I’m-”

“(y/n), yes I know. Take a seat.”

He may not look like Rex Lapis and he may not have the exact same mannerisms, but this was your king. You were sure of it.

“Rex-”

“Zhongli.” He corrects. “Not many people have seen through my disguise, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

You gulp, nodding. “I’m here to discuss the Rite of Parting.”

He cuts you off for the last time, “I know, and that is taken care of. Here is the contract, it has all the information you need. All you need is to take it to the Adepti and they will discuss it, but I have a feeling there’s information that you want.”

“I… yes, there is.” You gulp back the shock. This man in front of you is your dead king, but he’s going by the name of Zhongli. “Wha… why?”

“I’ve always been disconnected from my citizens. Despite this, they depend on me far too much.” He speaks of conflicting matters, yet he speaks of them so calmly and simply, even busying himself with paperwork as he does. “They create a false image of me, and they praise those ideologies. There are many things that they say I do, many ways that they say I behave, and amplified many qualities that I have always shown to be something greater. I was flawed, yet they thought of me as perfect. The people no longer followed a king, instead, they followed the pseudo-god of their imaginations.”

A frown paints his lips, and with a sip of tea, he smiles once more. “I am a regular man just like any other. I have desires and I have flaws and I deserve to take action on them. Do you understand now?”

“Yes.” It was true that the king was not perfect, just as Yuheng Keqing proposed. No person was perfect, and the same went for every monarch of each kingdom.

“You have more questions?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Who should be the new monarch?”

He smiles, in a cheeky way that you’d never seen on the king, “That’s making it too easy for you. Nevertheless, a question is a question. Who has governed Liyue for just as long as I have? Who upholds law and who helps the citizens? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the royal family.”

“The Liyue Qixing?”

“Precisely.” He clears his throat, “But like I said. I’m a regular man. All prophecies of mine are meant to be seen as suggestions, rather than definitive word.”

“Now, you must have something for me in return. I have given plenty of answers, so it’s time you give me some too. Why do you stay with the royal family? I formed this contract with you to become our servant. Now that Rex Lapis is dead, there’s no need to stay. Why are you still serving them?” That was a question you did not have a prepared response to, but one answer shone brightly in your mind.

“Xiao. He… I care for him, and he does for me.” It was simple, yet complicated. Simple, yet it showed all the feelings you had towards the prince.

“He was always attached to you.” Zhongli states as a matter of factly, in a way that brings warmth to your cheeks. “Just as the citizens of Liyue depended on me, he depended on you.” He chuckles, “Minus the fake ideologies part, of course.”

“Well,” He nudges the Rite of Parting documents your way, “I believe that is all. Good day, (y/n).”

“Good day, your majes-” He smiles, eyes crinkling as if he’s seeing an old friend.

“Have a nice day, Zhongli.”

“Welcome home.” Another thing you didn’t expect that day was Xiao waiting for you at the door of the palace, not to mention that he considered the place to be your home. “Where have you been?”

Ever since you comforted him, he was warmer with you. The loner prince who you knew nothing about suddenly became the person you knew the most about. You hadn’t noticed just how much he liked you until your meeting with Zhongli. “Gathering Rite of Parting documents. Where are the Adepti?”

Xiao griances, most likely remembering the horrible arguments from a few days prior. “Doing their own things. Can the meeting… wait for later? I don’t want to have a reenactment of what happened the other day at the moment.”

“Sure.” You nod. “I just need to drop off these papers with another servant. Is there anything you need afterwards?”

“I… have something to show you.” He looks at anything from you, arms behind his back. He seems nervous yet excited at the same time.

“Okay, I’ll be at your room as soon as I can.”

It seemed Xiao had a lot to show you. You had no idea what he had to show off, and you did not think it entailed leaving the city.

The prince walked ahead of you, leading the way. He didn’t dare look you in the eyes, and anything he said was short and to the point. Nevertheless, he did not seem to have a rude intention. He was merely nervous, and you know that because he’s showing the most emotion you’ve ever seen him express.

Xiao stops and sits on a rock platform once you reach your destination, the hill just about overlooking the kingdom’s harbor. “I sneak off to this place sometimes to look at the view. It clears my head.”

“Even after I tuck you into bed?” You ask, taking a seat next to him.

“I- yes.” He seems ashamed to admit it. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” You give up on seeking his gaze, taking in the sight of the harbor instead. “I can see why you come here, the view is beautiful.”

It’s lucky that you’re no longer looking at him, because if you locked eyes while he glanced your way, the prince would’ve flushed red. “This wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bring you up here for.” Your beauty under the slowly setting sky of Liyue was magnificent, it almost made him trip over his words.

“Well, what do you have to say?” As the blue sky turns into hues of warm colors -reds, oranges, yellows- it blends in with the warmth of Liyue. The beauty of it has you captured, but Xiao has seen it plenty of times.

“I like you.”

You turn to him to speak, which makes him immediately snap his head away from you. “Xiao, I-” Before you can assure him that you reciprocate his feelings, he cuts you off.

“I know a relationship would only burden you and distract you from your duties. I know that perhaps you wouldn’t have time for me. But… could we at least try?”

The warmth on his cheeks is forgotten when you laugh, which makes Xiao snap his head at you. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction from you. “Xiao, I was going to say I liked you back.”

“Oh.” He claps a hand over the lower half of his face in an attempt to hide his hot blush. Color stands out between and above his fingers.

Your laugh almost humiliates him more. “You won’t burden me, Xiao! You’d cause more joy than anything.”

He nods slowly, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat. “Do you.. want to kiss?”

Xiao moves his hand just a bit, uncovering one of his cheeks, an invitation to kiss him there. He’s most likely never kissed anybody on the lips, so you’d have to save that for later.

Though a mere kiss on the cheek seems to overwhelm him. As much as you want to, you don’t tease him about it.

“Come on, let’s head back, my prince. It’s getting dark.”

My prince… no more ‘your highness’ from now on.

[bubble-tea-bunny]

i could make you care

[saiki kusuo x reader]

author’s note: i tried to incorporate as many characters into this as possible to make it feel like an actual episode and i got overwhelmed so fast lol i haven’t written this many characters in a story in a long time. in any case hope i did them justice and that you enjoy :’)

word count: 3,029

Today’s morning is bright, and Saiki’s walk is quiet. Typically this would be no cause for concern. A quiet walk to school is few and far between, difficult to come by given the company he keeps. (He’d much prefer a calmer bunch, if he were granted the chance to choose, but that is neither here nor there.) Don’t misunderstand: he’d bask in this brief peace, guaranteed to be broken the moment he passes through the gates of PK Academy, if the reason for this uncharacteristic period of silence comes about because of the absence of one particular person—someone who, if one could hardly believe it, Saiki actually prefers to have around more often than not.

He walks past the street which leads to your home, his pace never slowing because he expects you’ll join him, as you do every morning. You’ll wait for him on the corner and smile widely like you haven’t seen him in weeks then skip towards him, falling in step easily. He’ll remain nonplussed as you hug his arm, give it a brief squeeze as you greet him—Good morning, Kusuo!—and then promptly let go because you understand he likes his space but you just can’t help but indulge a little bit.

However, none of the aforementioned events play out this Friday. You’re not on the street corner, not there to smile and fall in step with him. There’s no arm hugging or a bubbly greeting Saiki pretends he isn’t affected by. But the truth is that he is, the routine coming somewhat as a comfort, even at the price of sacrificing some of his beloved personal space. So when you’re nowhere to be found his brows furrow and he wonders where you are.

His steps slow until he comes to a complete stop. He wants to check up on you, sooner rather than later. There isn’t much time to delay if he wants to make it to school before the first bell, but this won’t take long. He crosses his eyes, activating his clairvoyance, and he centers in on you immediately. You’re still at home. You’re at home, and you’re sick.

A box of tissues rests on your nightstand and you’ve pulled your small trash can right next to it from where it usually stands by your door. You toss used tissues into it before nestling beneath your blankets, pulling it up to just below your chin and hugging it close in order to retain heat. Your breath evens out quickly and he can tell you’re asleep. Your body must be exhausted dealing with your cold, and he’s confident this is the way you will be the rest of the day—drifting in and out of sleep, dealing with the sniffles and congestion.

He blinks and loses sight of you and now he’s staring once more down the road. Readjusting his bag on his shoulder with a sigh, he resumes walking and thinks about his plans for the day. As it was the last day of the school week, he’d planned to go to Cafe Mami for coffee jelly to celebrate. But now that he’s learned you’re sick in bed, he’d have to make adjustments. Momentarily he debates if that’s really necessary. You probably wouldn’t want visitors in the state you’re in, and knowing you, you’d tell him to go to the cafe without you to enjoy himself anyway. The thought is tempting, truly, yet he can’t shake the urge to check on you.

It feels less like an obligation and more like a simple desire of his own to make sure you’re okay. Saiki shakes his head, more amused than frustrated. There’s no one else for whom he would so willingly do this, or much else, for, and he doesn’t think he’d ever tell you because you’ll tease him the way you are wont to do whenever his facade cracks and he’ll let you have your fun because when you ask if you’re really so different as to make him act this way, the answer is, well, yes. You are.

He imagines this scenario and the corner of his lips lifts in a small smile. Good grief. You could be quite the handful.

“Hey, Saiki!”

Nendo’s voice is entirely too loud for the morning and Saiki heaves another sigh, one that sounds as though it belongs at the end of the day and not the beginning. Nendo is joined close behind by Kaidou and Kuboyasu, and they easily fill the silence with discussions about going to get ramen after class and the latest movements of the Dark Reunion. Saiki really only picks up words here and there that allude to the topic of conversation but it doesn’t require his full attention. It’s the same song and dance every morning.

The commotion once he arrives at school is much the same. During lectures he is afforded the temporary reprieve from having his ears talked off, since the only one speaking is the teacher, but at breaks, the noise resumes, and though he always stays sitting at his desk, in hopes the others will get the hint that he’s uninterested in chatting, they inevitably crowd themselves around it, until he is right in the middle.

Hairo has outlined a new workout regimen and in his louder than normal volume of speaking he shares it. He’s going to start it today, and if anyone wants to join, they’re more than welcome. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to take the offer, which is expected. Hairo’s exercise routines were… a little extreme.

In any case, Hairo is nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm from everyone else and remarks he can’t wait for the end of the school day.

“I think I’ve been losing muscle tone,” he laments, and he complements this statement with a casual flex of his arm, more so to point out the specific areas he thinks are getting soft rather than to show off, but even if he isn’t trying, his biceps are bulging and if his sleeves hadn’t been rolled up, they would have torn.

Saiki’s brow raises. Yeah… I don’t think that’s an issue for you, Hairo.

“I’ve just finished installing an indoor gym at my home, you know.”

Everyone turns to find Saiko has entered into the circle, a smug smirk on his face. When had he gotten here? Really it’s only Hairo who has any sort of reaction to this, eyes practically sparkling imagining the machines and equipment (or maybe that’s just the glare from the fluorescent classroom lights). All the same, Saiko relishes the attention, boasting of the privacy and space and how really, it’s so much easier to be productive if there’s no one else there but Saiki can only wonder if Saiko even works out at all. He doesn’t remember that being mentioned, and Saiki is nothing if not detail oriented.

Saiki doesn’t have long to ponder over this (not that it would’ve continued much longer because he doesn’t actually care about whether Saiko exercises or just set up a gym in his house to brag) before Nendo asks where you are.

Had he just noticed? You always join them on their walk in the morning. But Saiki can’t say he’s surprised it took this long. What he is surprised about is that Nendo had noticed in the first place.

“Oh that’s right,” Kuboyasu adds. “I thought she just went ahead of us today.”

Yumehara informs them of your whereabouts before Saiki does. “She texted me this morning she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed home.” Her phone dings with a new message and she glances at it, then looks back up. “But she says she’s a little more awake now!”

“It’s the Dark Reunion.” Kaidou’s sudden interjection draws everyone’s attention. He clenches his right fist, staring at the bandages wrapped around it. “They’re trying to get to me by going after my friends!”

Saiki remains expressionless but if he didn’t have such good control he would’ve rolled his eyes. Or maybe she just has a cold.

Upon Kaidou’s claim that a secret society is responsible for your illness, Saiki picks up Yumehara’s thoughts: I wish I was the one Kaidou was so worried about! Maybe if I got sick he’d worry about me too! Getting sick to grab Kaidou’s attention? That’s… going overboard, but Saiki can’t find it in him to be shocked, considering from whose mind this speculation has sprung.

“Poor [Name],” Teruhashi says, kind as always. She sets an index finger on her chin, gaze momentarily aimed upwards as she thinks. “I was about to suggest we all go to the cafe after school today and I wish she could join.”

This gives Saiki pause. Wait. The cafe?

“That sounds like a great idea!” Yumehara declares. Again Saiki hears her thoughts: If we go, I need to do my best sit next to Kaidou!

Whether a visit to Cafe Mami comes across as a good idea because it’s a fun way to celebrate the end of the school week or simply because Teruhashi suggested it, Saiki doesn’t know, but one by one the murmurs of assent resound through the group and he barely contains a relieved huff. He’d already changed his own plans from visiting the cafe to seeing you instead, and it’s a good thing too since it’s apparent his alone time would’ve been ruined. Now he has an excuse not to stick around.

Once the final bell rings, they begin their walk into town towards the cafe. The sidewalk feels crowded with all of them on it, and they have to split into pairs to keep the opposite side of the sidewalk free for people going the other way. Among comments from everyone else about how hungry they are, Saiki makes known his intention to just pick up food before leaving. There’s somewhere he needs to be.

“You’re going to go make sure [Name] is doing okay!” Teruhashi exclaims. It’s a statement, not a question. “That’s sweet of you.”

Saiki shrugs. “Sweet” is not the first word he would associate with his actions. It just seems like common sense to check on you. You’d looked miserable this morning, but he takes your message to Yumehara earlier as a good sign that you’re improving, slowly and surely. Still, he’d be more comfortable seeing you himself. He hadn’t gotten any other chances today to use his clairvoyance, but at least it wouldn’t be long now until he’d be heading to your house.

Chisato is working today and she seats everyone. Saiki goes directly to the counter to place his order—coffee jelly for him and strawberry mochi for you—and he stands off to the side while waiting for the treats to be packed. The others are sitting on the far side of the cafe (in his peripherals he sees Yumehara has taken a seat right next to Kaidou) but he can hear them clear as day discussing what food they should order. Yes, he’s certainly glad he won’t be sticking around. Spending Friday in the midst of that noise is far from ideal.

Holding the bag of coffee jelly and mochi in one hand, Saiki uses the other to push open the door, the bell jingling gently, and someone, Nendo it sounds like, raises their voice to shout across the room: Seeya later, Saiki! Then the door closes behind him, and all he can hear is the footsteps of other pedestrians and the low whoosh of cars.

He exhales slowly. Peace at last. He proceeds in the direction of your home, and when he thinks to himself that any longer and his ears might’ve begun to bleed, he’s only half joking.

In the neighborhood it’s much quieter, the only person he passes being someone walking their dog, and only a couple of cars drive past. He knocks on the door and he assumes you’re in your room and so it will take some time for you to open it, but you’re there faster than he expects. You open it just wide enough to stand in the gap, and immediately he notices the fatigue in your eyes. When you realize it’s him, they light up, and the fatigue fails to take away from the brightness of your smile as you open the door wider.

“Kusuo!”

Inside, he sees you’ve moved downstairs to the living room. That’s why you’d answered the door so quickly. There’s a pile of blankets on the couch and a tissue box on the coffee table. The television is on and playing an animation. He doesn’t recognize it, but it must be one of the new ones you mentioned wanting to watch. However, you’re not interested in it now that he's here and you grab the remote to turn down the volume.

“I thought you were going to the cafe today,” you state, head tilting.

Saiki shakes his head. Change of plans. Instead I brought the cafe to us. He holds up the bag of food and doesn’t have to tell you what’s in it. You squeal in delight that he’s come bearing treats, but the sound is a little raspy and awkward due to your sore throat. It’s still easier on Saiki’s ears than the earlier commotion he’d been surrounded with and, if he’s honest, it’s cute.

You plop down on the couch and wait as he joins you. He unties the bag and opens the box, first taking out the packaged pink mochi and handing it to you. Then he grabs his coffee jelly and the plastic spoon it came with before settling back against the cushions.

You sit cross-legged facing him and bite into your soft and squishy treat, humming delightedly. “Thanks, Kusuo.”  

Saiki chews a mouthful of coffee jelly and glances at you.

You grin and hold up the mochi. “For the snack and for coming to see me.”

He shrugs because it’s no big deal. Or, well, he tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. But you know him better than that, better than most others do, and don’t brush it off so quickly. You breathe out dramatically and set a hand on your chest.

“What must I have done for Kusuo Saiki to give up his quiet time for me?” Then you giggle, and  it’s punctuated at the end by a sniffle.

He tells you there would’ve been no quiet time at the cafe since the others had also decided to go, and that you’re much better company. Even when I’m sneezy? you ask him, and he chuckles. Yes, even when you’re sneezy.

His remark about coming to see you because he’d prefer to be here and not at the cafe with the rest of your friends is merely part of the truth. The rest of it is that he did genuinely want to check on you to make sure you were okay. Though to give this a voice felt like too much for someone typically so reserved in his feelings, but you understand perfectly fine as you smile softly. You’re appreciative of his actions, and it would seem Teruhashi had been right about them, for you murmur that he reminds you of the mochi you’re eating: You’re so sweet!

Grabbing your mug from the coffee table, you frown when you see it’s empty. “I ran out of tea.”

Saiki sets the spoon and now empty container back in the box then holds his hand out. You blink, momentarily confused, but when it registers what he’s doing, you give him the mug. As he stands to make his way into the kitchen, you call after him.

“Thank you!”  

Having been to your house a number of times already, he knows where everything is and starts brewing a fresh cup of tea. You’ve turned the volume up on the television again, but you have to rewind to return of the spot you were at before he’d arrived. Once he comes back with a filled mug, instead of allowing it to continue to play, you pause your show.

You’d snuggled beneath the blankets and have to finagle your arms out of the multiple layers to take the mug from him. You say thanks again and blow gently at the tendrils of steam floating from it. The ceramic is warm in the palms of your hands and you sigh contentedly.

“Sorry I’m a little high maintenance today,” you apologize suddenly. “I’d make the tea myself but I just have such little energy…”

Saiki wishes you wouldn’t apologize because there’s nothing to be sorry for. So he tells you as much. Don’t apologize. Besides, he’d offered to make that tea, and if you wanted soup, he’d offer to make that too. He does understand where you come from, however. You tend to be more independent, opting to do things yourself, and you also know his propensity for being alone and needing space. As such, you’re careful not to be overbearing, and the idea of Saiki doing even little tasks like brewing you tea bothers you.

It’s endearing, the level of care you take to make sure he’s comfortable too, but when he says you’re far from high maintenance, he means it. You immediately understand what he’s implying and laugh before scooting closer and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Okay, point made,” you concede. With a small smile, Saiki grabs the remote you’d tossed down on the couch and presses play.

He would struggle to call you high maintenance on any day considering who your friends are.  They’re loud and all over the place, practically bouncing off the walls. Life could hardly be tranquil when around them and their antics. It’s the total opposite of Saiki, who values calm and silence. If they were high maintenance, he was low maintenance. That’s the way he prefers to be, existing in relative quiet and as close to mediocrity as he can muster. But he can't say he’s opposed to the occasional interruption to the otherwise mundane, especially where it concerns you. You’re not to be found on one side or the other, but right in the middle, and to Saiki, you are just right.

[elamarth-calmagol]

What actually is LACE? (an informal essay)

What’s LACE?

Laws and Customs among the Eldar, or LACE, is the most popular section of the History of Middle Earth books.  It's available online as a PDF here: http://faculty.smu.edu/bwheeler/tolkien/online_reader/T-LawsandCustoms.pdf .  There’s a lot of LACE analysis in the fandom, Silmarillion smut fics are usually labeled “LACE compliant” or “not LACE compliant”, and I’ve been seeing the document itself show up in actual fics, meaning that the characters themselves are discussing it.

LACE is an unfinished, non-canonical essay split into several parts.  It covers the sexuality of elves, which is mostly what people talk about.  It also covers elvish naming (which I want to make a whole different post about), the speed at which elves grow up, changes that happen throughout their lives, their death and rebirth, and finally the legal and moral issues of Finwe remarrying after Miriel’s death.  The discussion about rebirth conflicts with Tolkien’s later writings about Glorfindel’s re-embodiment, but to the best of my knowledge, LACE is the best or only source for most of the topics it covers.

However, LACE is not canon since it doesn’t show up in the Silmarillion.  Counting all of the History of Middle Earth as canon is literally impossible, considering Tolkien contradicts himself all over the place.  It is only useful because it has so much information that is never discussed in the actual canon.  Many people consider it canon out of convenience.

Another important thing to remember is that, other than presumably the discussion of the growth of elvish children, the information is only supposed to apply to the Eldar (meaning the Vanyar, Noldor, Teleri, and Sindar) and not the dark-elves such as the Silvan elves and Avari.

The rest is behind the cut to avoid clogging your feeds.

Problems with LACE interpretations

But because it’s hidden in the History of Middle Earth (volume 10, Morgoth’s Ring), barely anyone actually gets the opportunity to read it.  I don’t think most people are aware that you can get it online, so it doesn't get read much.

I feel like this leads to a handful of people saying something about LACE and everyone else going along with it.  I definitely did this.  I was amazed by all the things that were in the actual essay that nobody had ever told me about, or had told me incorrectly.  For example, most people seem to believe that elves become married at the completion of sexual intercourse (whatever that means to the fic author).  In fact, LACE explicitly says that elves must take an oath using the name of Eru in order to be legally married.  Specifically: 

It was the act of bodily union that achieved marriage, and after which the indissoluble bond was complete… [I]t was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, being both unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name); and the union so joined was alike indissoluble.

I’ve seen a marriage oath being included in a few stories recently, but most writers leave out the oath entirely and just have sex be automatically equivalent to marriage.  What would happen if elves had sex without swearing an oath?  I don’t know, but I’d love to see it explored.

Then there’s a footnote that might explicitly deny the existence of transgender elves... or not, but I’ve literally only seen it mentioned once or twice.  Overall, I feel like all of LACE is filtered through the handful of people who read it, and we’re missing out on a lot of metanalysis and interpretations that we could have because most fans never see the actual document.

Who wrote LACE?

I mean within the mythology of Middle Earth, of course.  Since LACE appears in the History of Middle Earth and not the Silmarillion, we can be pretty sure that J.R.R. Tolkien himself wrote it and it wasn’t added to by Christopher Tolkien.  But that’s not the question here.  Remember that Tolkien’s frame narrative for all of his Middle Earth work is that he is a scholar of ancient times and is translating documents from Westron and Sindarin for modern audiences to read and understand.  The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings come from the Red Book of Westmarch, and I believe The Silmarillion is meant to be Tolkien’s own writings based on his research (though it might also be an adaption of Bilbo’s “Translations from the Elvish”, but I haven't looked into that).  So what does LACE come from?

Christopher Tolkien admits in his notes that he doesn’t know.  He says, “It is clear in any case that this is presented as the work, not of one of the Eldar, but of a Man,” and I agree, because of the way it seems to be written as an ethnographic study rather than by someone who lives in the culture.  Honestly, it talks too much about how elves are seen by Men (e.g. speculating that elf-children might look like the children of Men) to be written by an elf.  This changes once it gets to the Doom of Finwe and Miriel, but that could be, and probably is, a story told to the writer by an elf who was there at the time.

Tolkien actually references Aelfwine in the second version of the text.  The original story behind The Lost Tales, which was the abandoned first version of the Silmarillion, was that a man from the Viking period named Aelfwine/Eriol stumbled onto the Straight Road and found himself on Tol Eressea.  He spoke to the elves and brought back their stories to England with him.  So it makes a lot of sense that Aelfwine would also write about the lives and customs of the elves for an audience of his own people.

Does LACE exist in Middle Earth?

I keep finding fics where first age elves discuss “the Laws and Customs” openly, as if it’s a text in their own world.  I usually get the impression that it was brought by the Noldor from Valinor.  But did the document actually exist in that time period?  For me, the answer is definitely not.

First of all, LACE was probably written by a Man, meaning it could not have dated back to Valinor in the years of the Trees, because Men hadn’t awaked yet.  In fact, the closest thing to an established frame narrative for it is that it was written by Aelfwine, who comes from the time period around 1000 CE (though Tolkien doesn’t seem to have pinned him down).  This is at least the fifth age, if not later.

But what if you don’t believe that it was written by a Man?  It still couldn’t have been written in the First Age, because it discusses the way the relationship between elves’ bodies and souls changes as ages go by.  For example:

As ages passed the dominance of their fear ever increased, ‘consuming’ their bodies... The end of this process is their ‘fading’, as Men have called it.

A lot of time has to go by in order for elves to get to the point of fading.  As a bonus, here’s another reference to the perspective of Men. LACE also discusses the dangers that “houseless feas”, which are souls of elves who do not go to Mandos after their bodies died, pose to Men.  How would they have known about that in the First Age?  It further says that “more than one rebirth is seldom recorded” (which isn’t contradicted anywhere I know of), and that’s not something you would know during your life of joy in Valinor, where almost nobody dies.  That’s something you learn after millennia of war.  This has to be a document written well after the Silmarillion ends.

So what about the sex part?  That’s all we care about, right?  Well, it is entirely possible that this was written down by the elves and Aelfwine translated it (though my impression is that he mostly recorded stories told orally to him and that elves were not very much into writing, at least in Valinor where you could get stories directly from someone who experienced them).  However, why would the elves write this down?  They know how quickly their children grow up.  They’ve seen actual marriages.  They don’t need that described to them.  And if they did have a specific document or story explaining the expectations of them when it comes to sex and marriage, why would they call it “Laws and Customs”?  That’s a very strange name for a set of rules for conduct.  I’m sure they had a list of laws written out somewhere in great detail, like our own state or national laws (that seems very in character for the Noldor, at least).  But I seriously doubt that those laws are what we’ve been given to read. LACE is not an elvish or Valinoran document.

Is LACE prescriptive or descriptive?

Here’s the other big question I’m interested in.  Prescriptive means that the document describes the way people should behave.  Descriptive means that it describes how people do behave.  And the more I worldbuild for Middle Earth and the culture of elves, the more I want to say that LACE is prescriptive in its discussion of sex, marriage, and gender roles.

But wait.  I’ve been saying for paragraphs that I think LACE is Aelfwine or another Man’s ethnographic study of elvish culture.  Then it has to be descriptive, right?

Does it?  How long do we think Aelfwine stayed with the elves?  Did he wait fifty years to see a child grow up?  Did he get to witness a wedding ceremony?  Did he meet houseless fea?  I don’t think he could have done all of that.  Maybe a different Man who spent his entire life with the elves could, but then when was this written?  When the elves were still marrying and having children in Middle Earth or when so much time had gone by that they had begun to fade already?

Whoever wrote this was told a lot of information by elves instead of experiencing it firsthand, the same way he heard the stories from the First Age from the elves instead of being there.  Maybe it was one elf who talked to him, maybe several different ones.  But did those elves accurately describe their society the way it was, give him the easiest description, or explain the way it was supposed to be?  If I was describing modern-day America, would I discuss premarital sex or just our dating and marriage customs?  Maybe people would come away from a talk with me thinking that moving in together equated to marriage for Americans in the early 21st century.  And I don’t even have an agenda to show America in a certain way, I'm just bad at explaining.  Did the elves talking to what may have been the first Man they had seen in millennia have an agenda in the way they presented themselves?

Or did the writer himself have an agenda?  Imagine going to see these beautiful, mythical, perfect beings, and you find out that they behave in the same immoral ways Men do.  Do you want to share the truth back home?  Or do you leave out things that don't match your worldview? Did Aelfwine come back wanting to tell people what elves were really like?  Or did he want to say “this is how you can be holy and perfect like an elf”?

Anyone studying the Age of Exploration will tell you that Europeans neber wrote about new cultures objectively, and often things were made up to fit the writer’s idea of what savages looked like. For example, my Native American history teacher in college told a story of how explorers described one tribe who (sensibly) didn't wear clothes as cannibals, because cannibalism and going around naked went together in their minds and not because of any actual incident.  Unbiased scholarship barely existed yet. Even Tolkien was extremely biased and tended to be imperialistic, as we all know.  There’s absolutely no reason to think that Aelfwine wasn’t biased in his own way.  (Of course, now we have to consider what biases a Danish or English man from the centuries around 1000 would have when it comes to things like gender roles. I assume he would have been more into divorce and female warriors than the elves are said to be.)

But is that what Tolkien intended? Probably not. He probably wanted LACE to be descriptive. But he also never got much of a chance to analyse the essay after the fact, which might have led to him discussing its accuracy and even the exact issues I just pointed out about explorers. Anyway, we know he's biased, and honestly, what he intended has never slowed down the fandom before.

Conclusion

In short, I take LACE to be a prescriptive document describing the way elvish culture is supposed to be, not a blueprint I have to stick to in order to correctly portray elves.  I also don’t believe the document that’s available for us to read existed even in the early Fourth Age, where The Lord of the Rings leaves off.  There maybe have been some document outlining the moral behavior of elves, as a set of laws, but thats not the Laws and Customs we have.

Of course, canon is up to you to interpret.  If you want Feanor discussing LACE with someone back in Valinor, go ahead.  If you want to throw out LACE entirely, go ahead.  It’s not even a canonical essay.  All of this analysis is honestly useless when you consider the fact that no part of LACE exists in any canonical book.

But that’s Tolkien analysis for you.

[theskywaslookingback]

tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]

“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]

In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]

Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.

It's complicated.

all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]

Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.

a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]

"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]

In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]

Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.

Good thing Martin has two.

A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]

A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

Martin helps.

A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]

Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]

“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]

So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]

Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.

Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.

go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]

And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

*

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

*

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

*

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

*

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

[mxtantrights]

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said. 

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously. 

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you. 

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

-

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom. 

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room. 

“A really big box.” 

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit. 

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that. 

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss. 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in. 

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.” 

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.” 

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you. 

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

-

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.” 

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you. 

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.” 

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

- 

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable. 

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him. 

“Shut it Todd.”

-

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway. 

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.” 

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful. 

You closed the door and turned the lock. 

-

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?” 

“Nyssa.” 

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?” 

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

-

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you. 

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.” 

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 3

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3k

Author's Note: This took too damn long but here we are. Definitely coming out with another part or two, but the next one is gonna start at a huge timeskip so yeah. That'll be fun.

Anywho, Enjoy~

For Reference, this is the dress I describe in here.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

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For your second night with Shouta you find yourself lost in thought, staring out at the stars. The stress from before the meeting never disappeared, only delayed. Now it’s all catching up, and your brain is struggling to sort everything out.

Shouta could be on the receiving end of some very misogynistic and traditional clans’ anger very soon. You’re relieved that your future husband is nothing like them, but the backlash he could be getting just by bringing you to a meeting so soon after the announcement is frightening, not to mention some irrational clans may decide to split off and find a rival Yakuza to adopt them. Even so, that’s probably the worst of the outcomes. It’s unlikely you’ll have to worry about either of your safety, though there is still a small chance.

For the second time Shouta wraps his arms around you, surrounding you with his scent and body heat.

“I hope this won’t become a habit, little one.” He presses his cheek to the side of your head, kissing your temple gently. His presence is calming, helps your overactive brain slow down.

“I just needed space to think.” He hums, the sound reverberating through your body.

“What could you be thinking about so late at night?” You don’t really want to tell him, but you figured it’s better than keeping it all in.

“I just worry about the backlash you’ll be getting after the meeting today. This organization is a traditional one, and women have always been kept away from the violent and criminal side of it for centuries. To suddenly name an onna-oyabun, and a woman that previously held a low rank at that, you’re bound to feel some sort of repercussions.” He squeezes you gently, kisses your temple again.

“That’s what you’re worrying your pretty head about? I’ll be fine, little one. Let’s go to bed.” He’s right, you suppose. There isn’t a lot that can affect him or his position, so there isn’t a lot you need to worry about. You nod, taking your weight off of him to go back to the room. You’re a little surprised when he picks you up again, scoops you off your feet and carries you to bed. He tugs you into him just the same as the night before, and once again you fall asleep to the soft thrum of his heart.

The next morning you’re woken by Shouta again. This time you don’t immediately pull away, instead choosing to bask in his embrace a few moments longer. It feels like you’ve known Shouta for years rather than hours, having seen some of the most intimate and private parts of him, and all you want to do is dig deeper. But of course, there’s time for that later.

“Come on, little one. It’s time to wake up. We’re going to see your parents today, and then we’ve got another meeting to attend.” You hum lightly then push off of him, taking a glance at his handsome face before getting out of bed to prepare for the day. You choose a dress you hadn’t worn in a while, one that felt like it would fit today’s events, a flowing black sundress with a halter neckline. Simple black heels pair nicely with it, as well as a small black clutch purse.

You aren’t anxious about Shouta meeting your parents. They aren’t as traditional as most, ideals and views closer to Shouta’s. All parties involved gave their bows in greeting, even Shouta, and brunch went by without a hitch. It wasn’t the usual cringey romcom scene where the parents ask ‘why do you love our daughter’. In fact, they know that the marriage is strategic. Of course, Shouta had made his thoughts clear, that he intends to ensure the union is enjoyable for the both of you. His honesty made a small smile worm its way onto your face, though you managed to hide it well enough.

Soon you’re on the road again, en route to the second meeting. You aren’t too surprised that Shouta already has two scheduled meetings back-to-back after the gala, he is a busy man after all.

The venue is another restaurant, this one not quite as high-end but just as beautiful, the entire massive building shaped like a circle and a koi pond around the perimeter. A bridge is all that connects the sidewalk with the building. You and Shouta are guided through by a host, and out a back door where another bridge connects to a separate island in the extended pond, the structure enclosed with sheer beige curtains.

Again, conversation abruptly stops when you enter. You’ll have to get used to it, you suppose. You sit, and the meeting begins. The subject is mostly territory disputes, bargaining for territory extensions or swaps with the others, all of them trying to work out strategies that benefit not only themselves but other clans as well. You keep silent throughout, listening carefully and learning, taking information and analyzing it. There must be someone Shouta doesn’t like in the meeting, because when the most important details are worked through, he excuses himself to the restroom once again.

You wonder, briefly, why he’d choose to play the same trick a second time in a row. If he does it too often his plan would become transparent, though one could argue not doing it enough would be just as easy to read. You don’t know how often he excuses himself from these meetings, so you decide to leave it in his hands.

Fortunately for you, it would seem no man here is willing to speak about your presence. It’s been almost ten minutes and none of them has said a word to or about you, choosing instead to discuss territories a bit further. Though you were beginning to question why Shouta hadn’t yet returned. Surely one would get suspicious, and one did, glancing toward the main building. It was then you all shifted your attention to Shouta, who stood at the opposite end of the bridge speaking into his phone. So that’s why he’s taking so long.

And unfortunately, that meant these men were relatively safe.

“So what’s the woman doing here?” It was barely a whisper, but you could hear it even over the sounds of the pond. A glance up shows the blonde to your right had leaned over to the man next to him. He’s much younger than the man from yesterday, maybe in his mid-late twenties, his hair clearly not natural. The one he’d whispered to flicked his gaze up, catching your own, and shouldered the blonde who subsequently looked to you. He cracks a cheeky smile, a poor attempt to cover himself really.

“Ah, Onna-oyabun, it’s good to finally see the Black Dragon’s wife-to-be.” It would seem news travels fast, and the blonde is much less bold than the older man. You crack your own smile, a sickly sweet show of teeth that hid a venomous bite.

“The woman has a name. Please, do not be afraid to use it in discussion. And I will tell you exactly what I told the previous oyabun who questioned my presence. I am here because Shouta wants me to be.” His smile doesn’t falter, but his eye visibly twitches at your response. It’s almost amusing to see his composure slip. It’s less amusing when he glances back to where Shouta is still on the phone.

“With all due respect I’m not afraid, I simply do not feel the need. And my question was not directed at you, but at my associate here.” He loops an arm over the shoulder of the man he’d asked, the dark-haired man wide-eyed and nervous. You aren’t sure how to answer his quip without rising tension, but Shouta made it clear you’re to be commanding a room just as he does, so you choose to strike a nerve and stir the pot. For added effect you let your face drop into a deadpan, tilt your chin up just a hair and glare.

“Most would feel it necessary to use a person’s name or title when discussing anything regarding them, especially in their presence. Therefore I can’t help but feel you may not have any respect for me when you clearly should.” You could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring with his anger. You nearly let a smile crawl onto your face at the satisfaction of knowing you’d angered an asshole like him with only your words.

“Maybe I don’t respect you. What are you going to do about it?” The man still under his arm stiffens, a hand slapping the blonde’s chest, his eyes locked on the entrance to the room. Shouta stands there, but the blonde seems to either not notice or not care. You aren’t given time to answer his rhetorical question.

“Nothing. You can’t do a thing about it, because you hold no power over me.” He’s elbowed this time, the dark-haired man trying harder to get the blonde’s attention off of you and onto the man he should be fearing right about now. To be fair, Shouta stands almost behind the blonde, who sits to your right, so it isn’t hard to believe he doesn’t see him. You just let him dig his own grave.

“And you hold no power over me because you’re a woman. A woman out of her place and on the wrong side of business, let alone holding a rank much lower than mine.” The man beneath the blonde’s arm had given up, choosing to bow his head down and stay silent. It’s Shouta who speaks next.

“I believe it’s you who holds a much lower rank than her.” The blonde’s face goes pale, his shit-eating grin dropping faster than a sinking stone.

“In case you hadn’t heard the news yet I’ve assigned her a title, and I expect you to use it. She may have asked you to use her name, but you should address her as Onna-oyabun any time she is brought up in discussion, regardless of whether or not either of us are present.” He strides up behind you and places a hand on your bare shoulder, just like yesterday. You can’t help but feel his positioning is on purpose, physically placing you in front of him.

“Are you ready to go, little one?” You nod, rising from your seat and taking a small bow signaling your leave. Shouta lets a hand rest on your lower back, guiding you out, but you overhear the same blonde whisper under his breath. You’re definitely not meant to hear it.

“The Dragon can’t always be around to save you, brat.” You both freeze in your tracks, Shouta’s eyes wide and nostrils flaring with anger. Before he can turn to react you lean in and whisper in his ear.

“My turn.” He raises an eyebrow at you, then nods, crossing his amrs and leaning against the beam at the entrance. You pivot, pinning the blonde in place with a glare. If looks could kill, he’d be in a casket. Slowly, you begin a steady pace around the table.

“I do not rely on Shouta to help me in these situations. In fact, I could just as easily take a piece of your tongue myself.” You’re on the opposite side of the table now, still taking long, slow strides and glaring down at the man.

“But it is so glaringly obvious that you lack the same level of intelligence I hold, and therefore I would feel guilty to rob you of a muscle that you clearly haven’t learned to use properly,” you stop, standing stock still behind the blonde, “However.” In one swift movement your dagger is stuck in the wooden table directly in front of the blonde, your manicured fingers curled around the handle delicately.

“Should I hear another demeaning or degrading word out of your mouth, I will not hesitate to stain my fingers with your blood.” He doesn’t seem to be reacting at all, whether he’s afraid or not you can’t tell, but you don’t let that affect your performance. You lean in, your lips nearly grazing the shell of his ear.

“You probably wouldn’t even get to taste my blade, but I don’t mind taking my time if you want to savor the tang of steel.” You yank the blade from the wood and sheath it, straightening your posture.

“Had Shouta chosen another woman for his wife you may have been able to actually hurt her feelings with your childish words.” You turn, striding back to where Shouta holds his hand for you to take.

“Unluckily for you, I’m just as volatile as my other half. Be grateful that either of us are merciful. You get to keep your tongue. For now.” It’s cathartic, letting out your anger like that. It’s unlikely that the threat will get you any sort of respect, but fear works just as well in your favor. Respect is something hard to find and even harder earned as a woman in a man’s world, but fear works better against an enemy that dreads change. You can’t help but smirk as you walk away from the chaos you left behind, and as you glance up you see the faintest smirk worming its way onto Shouta’s face.

____

His chest swells with something akin to pride as he waltzes away from the restaurant. He was wrong to assume you were averse to violence, had taken your level-headedness and cool temperament to mean you are not a violent individual. To assume you were either incapable of violence or unable to handle the intensity was obviously a mistake on his part. Watching the blonde freeze up and pale under your hard gaze was extremely satisfying, and he had to admit seeing such controlled rage and sharp words pour from you was enjoyable and, among other things, wildly attractive.

Shouta thinks he should let you handle these situations more often, let you have your fun, maybe even plot to have you purposely go just a little too far and have him reel you back in. Maybe then people may start to understand that you aren’t to be treated lightly, you aren’t just a means to an end, just a glorified housewife. No, you’re much more than that and if it takes bloodied words and bloodier actions to get it through some thick skulls, well, he’s sure you know he’s willing to go there and farther.

But for now, he’d settle with the occasional threat of taking a body part.

____

Once again you stare out at the stars, thinking about the day’s events. You’re almost bouncing on your feet, adrenaline still flowing through your veins. You feel light now, knowing you can take control of an escalating situation. Whether or not you can do it all on your own isn’t a real question. Of course you could do it without Shouta present. His existence alone is enough to ward off any violence directed at you. But it’s your own actions that determine how people will perceive you.

You let Shouta control the first meeting incident, mostly because you had no clue what was going on and no information to work from. Now that you know Shouta is listening and that there’s a purpose behind his absence, you can use it to your advantage and weed out the worst of the bad apples. With that information, and confidence that Shouta will not reprimand you--but will in fact support you--for getting mouthy with said bad apples, you could let loose some of the rage that made your blood boil. It’s freeing, taking entitled men off their precious pedestals and knocking them down a bit.

Shouta wraps his arms around you for the third time, burying his face in your neck and breathing in your scent. He kisses you lightly, feather light presses of his lips against your skin. It really does feel good, being so close to someone.

“I thought this wasn’t becoming a habit.” You sigh and lean into him.

“I’m not quite tired. Honestly I’m thinking about today. I’m still on an adrenaline high just replaying it in my head, the thrill, being able to finally get a word in.” He chuckles, squeezing you a bit tighter to him.

“I’m going to assume you’d never really been allowed to do that sort of thing before.” You nod, a small smile curling your lips. Up until now you lacked any sort of standing or power, and the rush is amazing, for lack of better words. Shouta hums then nips at the shell of your ear, his voice sultry and deep.

“Well if you’re looking to burn energy I think I could help you with that.” Your breath hitches, not prepared for such a suggestion. For a second you believe it, believe he’s really suggesting what you think he is, but you can feel his hands moving and before you can react he’s digging his fingers into your sides, making you giggle uncontrollably.

He’s laughing with you, enjoying watching you try to squirm from his grasp. He releases you, and you run over to the bedroom and duck under the blanket in an attempt to hide, but he only laughs.

“You silly girl, now you’re trapped!” He finds your waist through the thick blanket and doesn’t relent until you’re gasping for air and crying for mercy. He stops, finally, and pulls the blanket off your head. Your face is flushed, your hair splayed wild over the sheets and your chest heaving for oxygen. For a moment his mind drifts to dirtier thoughts of a similar expression he’d like to see. He pushes those thoughts away as you beam up at him, your smile reminding him of sunshine. Rough fingers brush away the hair that had fallen over your face.

“Are you ready to try sleeping now, little one?” You lean your head into his hand, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. The way he’s gazing down at you now, you know you’d never felt so adored in your life.

“Let’s sleep.” He lies down and you get comfortable on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping your leg around his waist. His arms lock around you, holding you in place and he kisses the top of your head.

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[k-s-morgan]

What He Grows to Be: Snippet 8

This snippet differs from others a bit because it's concerned with a specific arc more than with Tom and Harry. But that's why I picked it as without context and spoilers, strictly Harry-and-Tom scenes might start looking repetitive :D

----------------------------

Tom woke up in an excellent mood, the lines from Harry’s letter still dancing fresh in his memory. For a while, he stayed in his bed, mouthing them and enjoying the rush of pleasure doing so gave him. When he finally got up, he was met with tense faces of Lestrange, Black, and Mulciber. They were sitting on their beds silently, seemingly waiting for him to awake.

“What happened?” Tom asked sharply. His first irrational thought was that Harry got hurt, but rationality kicked in before panic spread, reminding him of how impossible the notion was. Even in the unlikely event that something happened, he’d be the first to feel it — in every sense of this word.

No one said anything. Instead, Lestrange gave him a newspaper. He looked so enraged that Tom was surprised he managed to stay silent.

The first thing he saw was a huge title with shaky letters: “The Heir of Slytherin — Or Is He?”

His heart twitched uncomfortably. Pursing his lips in preparation for what might be coming, Tom skimmed through the article.

Tom Slytherin is undoubtedly a rising star in the Wizarding Britain. His views are finding support among all kinds of wizards and witches, and that’s because he managed to occupy a middle ground between old pureblood ancestry and progressive pro-Muggle-born attitudes. An heir of Salazar Slytherin who believes in equality irrespective of one’s blood status; a prodigy in dark arts who became a vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Now he’s about to join the Ministry by taking a position that was crafted specifically for him. But is he really who he says he is?

Few of you know that Tom Slytherin was previously known as Tom Riddle. A half-blood himself, it’s barely surprising that he chose to appeal to both purebloods and Muggle-borns in his agenda to take power. His talks about equality and his claims that people grossly misinterpreted Salazar Slytherin’s beliefs are certainly inspiring, but are they true? Or is Tom Riddle a liar?

He can speak with snakes, that much is certain. It means that at least at some point, Tom Riddle’s bloodline was mixed with that of Salazar Slytherin. However, this alone does not give him the right to call himself his heir and even more, make statements about what Slytherin wanted and which ideals he supported. As reliable historical sources indicate, Slytherin built a Chamber of Secrets somewhere in Hogwarts for his heir to unseal. The question is, if Tom Riddle is indeed his heir, why hasn’t he done so yet? Where is the Chamber of Secrets and is the boy even aware of its existence? He told us that his knowledge about Slytherin’s true aims came from the unique books he has in his possession. Ignoring the fact that no one has ever seen these books personally, do they not mention anything about the Chamber? It doesn’t seem likely. In fact, it seems downright impossible. And if Tom Riddle lied about Slytherin’s beliefs to increase his popularity among the population, what else has he lied about?

No one has witnessed his alleged victory over Grindelwald. When asked to share his memories about it through the Pensieve, Tom Riddle refused. An anonymous source close to him confessed that the boy is highly manipulative and prone to exaggerations. He is indirectly linked to the murders of Charlus Potter and a Muggle woman who lived in his neighbourhood. So is he a hero? Or is he an impostor with delusions of grandeur who deceives everyone and ruthlessly disposes of people who do not support him?

One lie leads to another, and before you know it, Wizarding Britain will be ruled by a new Dark Lord who tricked us all by his alleged vague connection with Salazar Slytherin. Before giving him power, we have to find who he really is and what he is hiding.

“Dumbledore,” Tom said. His voice was toneless, but rage was trembling under his skin, trying to pour outside through his magic. “He’s behind this article.”

“Are you sure?” Mulciber frowned. “Why would he do this? He should be thrilled that his precious Muggle-borns are finally being treated with respect. All interviews you’ve given paint you as their supporter, so why would he—”

“Because he doesn’t trust Tom,” Lestrange snapped. He was pacing now, his face agitated. “The bastard always hated him — all of us. I just didn’t think his hatred would be stronger than his own hopes for equality.”

“Neither did I,” Tom replied distantly. His eyes went back to the article.

He’d been going out of his way to meet Harry’s ideals and shape his political aims around them. In many ways, Dumbledore’s ideals matched Harry’s. Mulciber was right, he should have been pleased to see them promoted. But Lestrange also had a point — Dumbledore’s reservations happened to be stronger. He must believe that Tom was playing a long-term game, and that as soon as he got the real power, he would reveal his true goals. Whatever Dumbledore imagined them to be, it must have been terrible enough to make him step up and try to tarnish Tom’s reputation.

“Is it true, though?” Black asked. Tom slowly looked up at him just as Lestrange whirled around in outrage.

“How can you even—” he started, but Black interrupted him.

“We never saw those books. We never really discussed the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know where it is, Tom?”

“I’ve visited it once,” Tom replied. He wasn’t lying — he saw the Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s memories. The only problem was that he had no idea how to enter it because Harry hadn’t trusted him with this information.

“You have?” Lestrange exclaimed. His ridiculously eager eyes lit up. “So you do know where it is!”

Mulciber began to grin. Black alone remained unmoved, watching him with furrowed brows.

Perhaps he sensed it was half-truth and was trying to understand what it could possibly mean. Black was smart, probably smarter than Lestrange and Mulciber combined — smarter than Tom had ever given him credit for. And right now, this was the last thing he needed. To have even his closest circle doubt him… just because Dumbledore felt threatened and wanted to be petty…

His rage darkened, turning into something vicious and vindictive. A hundred of possible counter-plans shot up in his mind, but they all crashed against one simple truth.

He had no clue where the Chamber of Secrets was. And now that the idea was planted in people’s heads, they would not let it go. He’d have to prove he knew its location or have everyone doubt him.

If Harry could just tell him…

No. He wasn’t going to bother Harry with it. What they had was more significant than any rumours or doubts that would circulate around him. Tom would rather be known as a liar and an impostor than risk stretching the trust he and Harry had been building all this time. If Harry wanted, he would tell him, but he wasn’t going to ask or rely on this possibility.

He’d have to find the Chamber by himself and make Dumbledore choke on his ‘anonymous’ testimony.

[robininthelabyrinth]

A prompt: Chief Cultivator Yao

Untamed

“I mean no offense, but that’s the stupidest suggestion I’ve ever heard,” Jin Guanshan said, only barely keeping his smile intact.

“He is aware that simply saying that he means no offense doesn’t make it any less offensive, right?” Wei Wuxian asked Jiang Cheng in a soft murmur, desperately happy in retrospect that he hadn’t decided to miss this meeting.

He didn’t attend most discussion conferences, even though he’d officially been recognized as a Sect Leader and therefore entitled to sit at the table – there wasn’t much point in arguing about cultivation territories and who did what when his ‘sect territory’ was limited to the Burial Mounds and his ‘sect’ consisted of himself and the only three Wens young enough to join a sect, one of which hadn’t yet passed his fourth birthday.

Still, he’d been a bit curious to know what was going to happen with the seemingly never-ending argument about who was going to be Chief Cultivator – whether Nie Mingjue would finally give in (unlikely, given the man’s personality) or if Jin Guangshan would find a way to get around him (possible).

He hadn’t expected Nie Mingjue to be the one to get around Jin Guangshan – especially not with such an…unorthodox proposal.

"You can't seriously be suggesting that we elect Sect Leader Yao to be Chief Cultivator!"

“I don’t see the problem,” Nie Mingjue said, heroically maintaining a straight face despite the slightest curve in his eyes that indicated a man who knew exactly what the problem with his suggestion was. “According to all the stories I’ve heard him tell, Sect Leader Yao has been at the forefront of every action in the past few years, large or small, no matter where or how implausibly quickly he must have traveled to get there.”

The unexpected man of the hour, Sect Leader Yao himself, was still gaping in shock at having been named, but at this he stirred a little, looking mildly panicked, and said, “Sect Leader Nie, I appreciate the compliment, but –”

“Nonsense! I would never stoop to baseless flattery –” That much was true, Wei Wuxian reflected, especially since exactly nothing that had come out of Nie Mingjue’s mouth really sounded all that much like a compliment if you listened closely. “– and though your sect is small, it can hardly be said that your voice is not heard during our discussions.”

“Constantly heard,” Jiang Cheng muttered under his breath.

“Come now, Sect Leader Nie,” Jin Guangshan said with a fake laugh. “The position of Chief Cultivator is a heavy one; if Sect Leader Yao is busy with his own affairs –”

“On the contrary,” Jiang Cheng blurted out, and suddenly everyone was turning to him; it was by now too late for him to reverse course, so he could only soldier on, saying, “It is well known that Sect Leader Yao is very generous with his time, isn’t it? I’ve never known him not to be happy to volunteer to involve himself with other people’s concerns.”

Wei Wuxian was not going to laugh. He was not.

“Uh, thank you, Sect Leader Jiang,” Sect Leader Yao said. He was now sweating. “While I appreciate –”

“Let us not forget Sect Leader Yao’s decisiveness,” Wei Wuxian interrupted, batting his eyelashes at the increasingly furious Jin Guangshan. “I find that no matter how little information there is available on a given issue, Sect Leader Yao is always ready at hand with an opinion.”

“Well said, Sect Leader Wei,” Nie Mingjue said before Sect Leader Yao can put in a word. “Yet equally important, he is not inflexible, which I admit I can sometimes be – I have never known Sect Leader Yao to remain fixed on a position if the wind appears to be blowing in another direction.”

“Sect Leaders, please,” Lan Xichen said, and he looked somewhere between trying to resist laughing (much like the rest of them were) and feeling genuinely apologetic for the situation Sect Leader Yao had found himself in. “Sect Leader Yao is a devoted member of our group, and he has always tried very hard, and regardless of the outcome of his efforts or lack thereof, he is still very good –”

Someone in the audience guffawed.

Lan Xichen appeared to belatedly realize that he’d given Sect Leader Yao a ‘good person’ card and flushed.

“Nevertheless,” Jin Guangshan said with gritted teeth, “it does seem somewhat inappropriate to burden the leader of such a small sect with such a high title -”

“Why?” Nie Mingjue said, and bared his teeth at Jin Guangshan in what could only barely be pretended to be a smile. “There are more of them together than there are of us. Are you suggesting that a small sect leader could never become Chief Cultivator?”

“No, no, of course not! It’s only that I wouldn’t want him to feel obligated to accept –”

“As we all know, Sect Leader Yao’s first thought is always the emotions of others,” Jiang Cheng said, apparently still bitter about the time Sect Leader Yao had told Jin Ling – still a toddler – to stop crying already. “But he is also very cautious to always be in the right on any issue that crosses his path –”

“Anything less would be beneath the level of dignity with which he always conducts himself,” Wei Wuxian interjected.

“…yes, that. In sum, surely he would not deny himself the honor we are all so eager to give him?”

“It is exactly as Sect Leader Jiang said,” Nie Mingjue said. “I think we’re all in agreement at what qualities Sect Leader Yao possesses that would make him the ideal Chief Cultivator –”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but notice the lack of any adjective indicating whether those qualities were good or bad.

“– and so the matter would seem to be to be settled in perfect compromise. I propose a toast.”

“Seconded!” Wei Wuxian said immediately, lifting his cup.

“Hear hear,” Jiang Cheng said, somewhat unenthusiastically.

Lan Xichen simply held up his cup with a smile and no words, appearing to require all of his considerable willpower in not breaking up laughing – an battle that a number of small sect leaders were currently losing.

“What say you, Chief Cultivator?”

“Well,” Sect Leader Yao said, still looking dazed, “I suppose if everyone agrees…”

Jin Guangshan had a murderous expression on his face, but his face wasn’t quite thick enough to stand against the majority like this; he lifted his cup as well. “Best wishes,” he growled.

The discussion conferences broke for the night soon afterwards.

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” Jiang Cheng asked Wei Wuxian. “I didn’t actually mean to speaking in his favor, it’s only, you know…”

“You have trouble hearing outright lies be told,” Wei Wuxian said agreeably, nodding. “No, this is great; I can see exactly what Sect Leader Nie was thinking – our new ‘Chief Cultivator’ lacks the backbone to make and stick with any decision, which is the same as never making any decisions at all. The role will become purely ornamental.”

“Exactly,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice deep as he appeared behind the two of them, Nie Huaisang trailing behind. “I thank you both for your timely support.”

“Of course,” they both said, saluting; he saluted them back and departed, although Nie Huaisang remained behind with a smile when Wei Wuxian waved at him behind his brother’s back.

“Who thought of that scheme?” Wei Wuxian asked. “It was brilliant.”

“Oh, it was all da-ge’s idea; I had no idea what he was planning until he did it,” Nie Huaisang confessed gleefully. “Er-ge’s been playing music for him regularly to help improve his mood, which I think has been helping; I haven’t seen him make trouble like that in years.”

“It was a true work of art in mischief-making,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “I salute the masters.”

Nie Huaisang laughed and saluted back. “In a contest of making mischief, if you claim to be second, who would dare be first? No, no, my sect cannot bear to hold this honor; it must belong to you.”

“On the contrary, I insist –”

“If you two dare get started with your nonsense, I’m going to find a river and push you both in,” Jiang Cheng threatened. “Come help me with something important instead: figuring out how to convince our new ‘Chief Cultivator’ that he doesn’t need to give speeches at the start of every discussion conference the way Sect Leader Jin has been doing…”

“But Sect Leader Jiang!” Wei Wuxian protested earnestly, his eyes dancing in amusement. “If we don’t have those speeches, we might actually have to be awake at the start time…”

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So this is the first fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr, low key kinda scary😄 But this man and his paramour have been on my mind for the longest. This is a self insert fic, but I don’t really use “Y/N”. Hope you enjoy and any feedback would be great!

Summary: You are an assassin hired by Tyrion to act as extra security alongside Bronn. He brings you back to King’s Landing just as the boy king Jeoffry Baratheon plans to marry the cunning Margaery Tyrell. But with all the guests roaming around, you begin to wonder who is a friend and who is a foe. No one makes you wonder more than the famed prince from Dorne and his captivating paramour.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of murder, allusions to sex

—————

You never knew anything in the seven kingdoms could make you feel so small. It wasn’t as if you’d ever let it show. You held your head high, walking alongside Tyrion as both of you entered the great hall of the throne room, Bronn on the opposite side of your employer. The Red Keep was even bigger than you had imagined it to be. The throne room was the tallest room you had ever seen. Against the dark ceiling the columns looked as if they stretched up into the night sky.

Every eye in the palace was on the three of you, and you felt no one’s eyes more than Cersei’s. You held her gaze. A woman who lived in luxury her whole life did not frighten you. She may have influence, but you had experience, strength, freedom, and skill with your bow that you were now acutely aware was strapped to your back. Having the protection of Tyrion’s influence and connections and Bronn’s strength and skill with a sword brought a sense of comfort, allowing you to remain calm under such scrutinizing gaze.

“Brother.” Cersei greeted with a soft smile that failed to hide all the vileness in her heart. “You come with friends.”

“Oh no, more like bodyguards. We have so many enemies now a days sister, I like to know I’m protected.” Tyrion smirked, leaving Bronn chuckling. You, on the other hand, would not let your intimidating demeanor fade, remaining as stoic and unyielding as the stone columns that held up the palace you wished to see fall. “May I introduce Bronn, Lord of Highgarden and-“

“Yes, I know all about the Silver Hawk from the North. I wonder if you are half as good as they say you are.” She mocked, her tone anything but genuinely curious. “I am told that you can hit your target 200 meters away and steal their breath before they even know what hit them.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was impressed, even if she did look at you as if you were the lowest creature she ever beheld.

“Perhaps I will have an opportunity to display my skills while I am here, your grace.” You’ll see first hand when my arrow is aimed just above your crooked neck.

“Perhaps.” She replied, feigning as much sweetness as a ferrel cat.

The both of you narrowed your eyes at each other. There was no outright exchange of harsh words or petty language, but the furious tension between the two of you was enough to fill the entire hall with uncomfortable silence. You hoped your unyielding gaze scared her. You wondered how many people actually defied her, you wondered how long it would take to get under her skin.

“Yes, well.” Tyrion interrupted, knowing you were bubbling with anger. Cersei was too, and although you allowed her to see your own emotions, it please you a bit to know you could anger her just as easy. You hated Lannisters almost more than anything, but you also knew Cersei’s time would come. She would pay for her crimes, fate would decide her end. You knew that fate had not brought you here to slay the queen regent, as much as you despised her. “As much as I love chatting with you sister, I simply wanted our arrival to be known. We have much unpacking to do and much to discuss.”

“Be careful, little brother.” She warned. “Your guard has little reserve and it seems your little silver hawk has a silver tongue as well. You would be wise to remember that people have been killed for that and less.”

“I’ll be sure to keep very close watch over them.” Tyrion retorted sarcastically before turning on his heal and exiting the great hall. You and Bronn followed, the later unable to contain his amusement.

“I’d say that went well!” He quipped, smiling at both you and your employer.

“She didn’t call to chop off our heads, that is some relief.” Tyrion noted. “But you both must be careful, especially you.” His scrutinizing gaze met yours.

“What? You expected me to just let her try and hold some dominate power over me? Just because she is draped in finest jewels in the seven realms and hides behind the her father’s influence does not mean I will tremble like a child before her.”

Tyrion sighed. “You must, for now, hold your tongue. Your wit does you credit, that’s why I like you, but you must check yourself. My sister is more dangerous than you can imagine. Don’t tremble, but don’t overstep either.” You remembered that Tyrion had been playing the game his whole life, he was basically born into it. He knew his sister better than anyone, and that meant he knew how to get around her better than anyone. You made a note to observe exactly what made Cersei tick, what made her preen under her usually reserved demeanor.

Despite the warm tones of the palace, you felt as though you were walking on ice. One wrong step and you were dead under a frozen tundra. You didn’t like this at all. Tyrion promised your freedom would not be at risk, yet you felt the freedom to speak your mind, the freedom to do as you pleased slip from you more and more. You were being watched here, you weren’t stupid. Every move had to be calculated, every word like honey laced with poison. The faster the boy king could marry, the less people there were for you to worry about. It made you uncomfortable not knowing who was an ally and who was a foe. The one thing you could appreciate about Cersei was that you always knew where you stood with her.

“I will try to remain civil if she approaches me, otherwise I will avoid your sister to the best of my abilities. But she would be wise not to challenge my reserve.” I huffed, earning a laugh from Bronn.

“Your reserve, little hawk, will be undone, whether it be from your words or your arrows.” He teased. You gave him a shove and he stumbled a bit, but not much. The last thing you needed was the oaf calling you “little”.

“The sooner we are out of this horrid place the better.” You huffed.

“I agree,” Tyrion agreed, nodding in understanding, “but don’t hold your breath. There is so much to be done before my nephew’s wedding and I will be relying on both of you to help me. While I am arranging more intimate details with my family, you two will be protecting me, but also doing some side tasks that I will not have time for. Bronn, for the most part you will be either at my side or Shae’s. If the palace discovers her they will use her against me. She can’t be found.”

Shae, Tyrion’s lover of sorts. You had grown close to her on your travels. You were wary at first. Your job was to protect Tyrion, naturally, you were cautious of anyone who might try to hurt him, to get close to him only for information or power. But it was a tough business, out spying a spy, and all your instincts told you to trust Shae. She had not left any of you astray thus far, and though the couple had not named their relationship, you could tell Tyrion and Shae cared immensely for each other. But Tyrion was right, she could be used as a pawn against him, especially if Cersei found out.

There was a sort of kinship between you and Shae. You were both strong, clever women, and she had tended to the few wounds you found yourself with on your travels. She seemed like a sister, and you were grateful for the company and friendship she provided.

“As for our favorite archer, you will be assisting some guests, getting information. I want to know the people attending this wedding, I want to ensure that this wedding goes smoothly. The Tyrell’s are a powerful ally, we cannot lose them.”

You nodded in understanding. Tyrion hired you to protect him, yes, but archery was not your only strength. You could be quiet, and you could listen as well as you could speak. You knew he would ask that of you with all the guests roaming around. You were curious to know what King’s Landing was really like, and even more interested in knowing the people who came here. “Ask it of me and it will be done.”

“Aye.” Bronn agreed.

“You are the most trusted of friends.” Tyrion gave the smallest of smiles. You were hesitant to even be in his service when the lord found you and offered you a job, afraid of losing your freedom. You knew the Lannisters, you knew their foul and power-hungry disposition. Being in their service seemed to you signing your life away. You were surprised to find he did not wish to take such things from you. He hired both you and Bronn to protect him, yes, but he would do the same for you both. You were an odd sort of family, but a family nonetheless. “Get settled and rested for the evening, we’ve had a long journey. We will reconvene later to discuss further plans.”

You nodded and left to your new chamber, one just across from Bronn and down the hall from Tyrion.

The trio was still not aware of the Red Viper slithering about the halls.

——————

Days passed with little to do. You hadn’t seen much of Tyrion. Since your arrival at King’s Landing your employer had become hand to his nephew king and married the pretty Stark girl you later learned was named Sansa. Still, you found ways to spend your time, keeping eyes and ears open for any useful information. You were particularly interested in Joffrey. It was astounding how a little boy could hold so much power, so much evil. You figured he inherited his terror from his mother.

Sansa was an interesting girl as well. Your heart broke for her. She was nothing if not resilient, staying loyal to her betrothed if only to keep herself alive. She was smart, you learned, but not useful when attempting to gather information. She did not deny her loyalty to Joffrey, even to those she liked. You were grateful that Tyrion stepped in to propose to the poor girl, if only to save her from the tyrant king. Both you and Shae kept close eyes on her. She was as smart and clever as Shae and yourself. You had a sneaking suspicion that she could be a close ally, if only your little family could get her away from the palace.

But today was different. Today you left your quarters to explore the palace a bit. You wanted to know what sort of battleground you were working with. It seemed surprising that a palace that was so heavily targeted was so...open. It seemed like light could illuminate any room. Even the gloomy and foreboding throne room could not escape a few beams of sunlight. If you didn’t despise every Lannister crawling about the palace, you had a mind to stay. The palace was only under the allusion of being warm and charming, the people who inhabited it ruined any chance of it being a lovely place. You noticed that the open windows and balconies made perfect outlooks should you need to eliminate a threat with one of your silver arrows.

But for now, the open windows became your place of peace as you ate a bowl of berries, just watching the rest of the sunrise. You saw the sun just barely grace the city with its light before you were called into Tyrion’s chambers. You arrived promptly, Bronn stumbling in a few minutes after you. You rolled your eyes at his lack of punctuality, which only earned you a playful nudge from the Lord of Highgarden.

“Behave you two. I swear I am dealing with children.” Shae huffed, but you could tell behind her sharp features was an air of mischief. Still, you straightened up and diverted your full attention to Tyrion.

“Well, much has happened. Prince Oberyn has arrived in The Capital. I visited him yesterday morning and he made it very clear that he wants to kill any Lannister that he sets his sights on. My father apparently ordered the death of his sister and her children. Our goal, for now, is to keep him happy, to keep him entertained. Bronn, your job will be to appear inconspicuous as you keep a watchful eye over my quarters, make sure no one goes in or out.” He ordered.

Shae huffed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself thank you.” She huffed.

“No one disputes that my dear.” Tyrion chuckled. You remember watching Shae stab a man she did not want for laying a finger on her. “I’m not worried about you. But my sister and my king nephew are very powerful. They will know how to use you against me.” He explained. Shae still was not pleased with the idea, but she relented.

“As for our hawk,” he turned to you and gave you a list with names you did not recognize, “you will present these girls to Prince Oberyn in my place. You will tell him that royal duties as the king’s new hand have prevented me from revisiting him, but you hope he enjoys the whores as a welcoming gift to King’s Landing.”

“Excuse me?!” You snapped your eyes narrowing in on your employer. “I am not a squire whose job is to bring in girls for spoiled princes!”

“Do not think of it as that.” Tyrion poured himself a glass of wine, knowing that he should chose his next words very carefully. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “Consider it a diplomatic mission. Besides, the prince wishes to meet you. The legends of the Silver Hawk have reached so far as Dorne and he is eager to make your acquaintance. This is the perfect opportunity for the both of you.”

You still weren’t pleased. “So I am now to serve as entertainment for the prince of Dorne.” You sighed and shook your head. “I am only staying long enough to bring him the girls, then I’m leaving.”

“Fine,” Tyrion relented. “But you will be cordial to the prince. Don’t be deceived by his charming words, he stabbed one of my cousins for a few unkind, brutish remarks. I don’t want to know what he’ll do when he hears your fire-laced words.” If it weren’t such a serious situation, Tyrion might have been amused to hear you use your wit against a prince, but the prince’s history with the Lannisters was anything but a joke.

“I’m sure she can handle herself. Hawks have talons after all.” Shae teased, but squeezed your arm affectionately. You offered a kind smile, but you still loathed this plan.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Tyrion rubbed his temple like the very thought of you getting into trouble was enough to send him over the edge.

You relented and chuckled a little before placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “I will be on my best behavior, but only because you will worry yourself ill.” You teased. “It can’t be too bad if I just deliver your message and leave. I better get going though. Can’t leave a prince waiting.” You snorted. As if you cared what a prince thought.

————————

Oberyn Martell lied in his temporary bed at the brothel, Ellaria Sand at his right, a blond haired boy on his left. He was the picture of lustful bliss, his golden chest glistened as the small rays of light entered the sinful den. But the prince was quiet deep in thought as he started out into the empty space before them. All the pleasure the brothel had to offer could not break his focus.

“Your thoughts are too loud, my prince.” Ellaria chided as she placed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me.”

Even then, Oberyn still could not break his thoughts of you, but he ran a hand through his paramour’s raven curls in acknowledgment. “I think I found our third partner.”

Next Chapter

[potteresque-ire]

I’ve got several asks about BJYX supertopic’s recent battle for the top CP ranking. I’ve meant to answer them the way they’re asked, but the answer gets long. Dear Anons ~ please forgive me for splitting the answers into multiple posts!

As with everything I’ve said about CPs, they’re mostly my limited observations—unlike history and news, it’s impossible to find articles about any of this that pass journalistic standards. Therefore, please consider the following to be my personal impressions and ramblings, and as usual, everyone please feel free to point out mistakes and add your own thoughts!

Everyone probably knows already, but the new drama that has brought waves to the Weibo’s CP ranking list is Word of Honour (山河令, which I will abbreviate to WoH), and the CP pairing is known as Lang Lang Ding (浪浪釘, LLD). I haven’t watched this drama yet but as a Wuxia (and slash) fan, it is on my to-watch list. Nonetheless, I’ve been watching the developments surrounding the popularity of the drama and the CPs, and I think I can make the posts long enough just with these observations alone. (I’m incredibly long winded :D )

For the CP competition, I think it’s important to point this out: the LLD supertopic is a mixed character-CP and real-person-CP supertopic, unlike the YiZhan supertopics (BJYX, ZSWW, LSFY) that are real-person-CP only. This means comparing LLD and the YiZhan supertopics is really …  comparing apples and oranges, especially when WoH is still airing (and therefore providing fresh candies for the character CP with every new episode). I therefore wish this kind of popularity competition doesn’t take root in the international fandom; it’s … a bit silly to me, really. It makes little sense.

That said, however, I understand why c-turtles are fighting so hard for the #1 CP spot. C-ent (as is true with many other aspects in the country), numbers and ranking are everything. That 20(?), 40(?) minutes during which BJYX supertopic fell to #2 the first time already made “news” headlines that claimed that WoH had surpassed The Untamed (TU)—an even stranger comparison, if one thinks about it. BJYX, technically speaking, doesn’t have anything to do with TU. It’s a GG/DD real person CP.

But it doesn’t matter—numbers are numbers, and they talk to c-ent watchers, the commercial interests looking for their most promising future investments. The perceived power of c-turtles hinges on them and by power, I mean both fan power and spending power, which are almost synonymous terms in c-ent. Many of you have probably seen those charts that rank the popularity of c-ent entertainers by how much goods, in monetary value, they’re able to sell. How much do the c-turtles contribute to these monetary values? Are they, as a collection of fans, worth keeping, worth wooing?

The notion that only the fan’s spending power means something may cause unease in many i-turtles—and it is, indeed, a very cold-hearted assessment, as it implies that fans are little more than living wallets to be emptied. My observations have been that such a notion doesn’t bother c-turtles for the most part and, IMHO, they’re being realistic for their sociopolitical environment. They also respond to this notion accordingly—while it is difficult to tease out the exact percentage of turtles among Gg and Dd’s active fans (fans that make major purchases goods and merchandises), c-turtles have previously demonstrated their ability to contribute a substantial fraction (in the 10s of percent) of money spent on Gg and Dd. As these splits are only very occasionally visible to the public, the CP ranking likely serves as a constant reminder of c-turtles enormous fan/spending power — without which, Gg and Dd’s popularity will also take a hit.

In that sense, c-turtles are fighting for their right-to-exist. Remember when I talked about the “traditional” thinking that CPFs < solos, and that one CPF = one (loyal) solo lost? This means c-turtles must be able to demonstrate their ability to offer something that the solos cannot, and more importantly, that their offer will not come in any other name. If c-turtles proved last year that they wouldn’t change their name to solos, then this year they’re set to prove they’ll not change their name to LLDs or other CPFs. 

If the latter sounds a bit like a battlecry, it may be exactly that. Ever since the announcements of the long line of upcoming Dangai’s, ample inflammatory posts have been made on the platform to get c-turtles to “defect” to the new dramas, or predict that as soon as another pair of random, beautiful men start to throw candies on screen, c-turtles will promptly forget about Gg and Dd and join the fun. The latter, especially, can be quite insulting to read, as one can imagine. However, with c-turtles being a loosely connected group of millions, despite their apparent firm stance that they shall stay turtle, their underlying nerves that these “insults” may turn out to be true can also be felt — the worry that c-turtledom will haemorrhage when the next popular Dangai with enticing M/M CPs (character or real person) come along. 

WoH, as the first drama that fits the criteria, is therefore a test— a test that many c-turtles likely view they must pass with flying colours to prove their point, to stand with their heads held high among those who do not care about BJYXSZD (not necessarily solos—many solos, BTW, have actually helped the turtles out this time); to show that turtles are not only every bit as loyal as other Gg and Dd fans, they’re not so … cheap as to take any random “industrial saccharine” (工業糖精; referring to ZQSG-free candies created solely to lure in fans) and walk away.

The reform of the BJYX supertopic (which now allows candy analysis and explains the sudden appearance of many old candies), the flood of BTS videos from almost every Zhan Jie previously involved with the YiZhan CPs, the temporary retaking of the top 3 CP spots by BJYX+ZSWW+LSFY ... can therefore be viewed as a rally of c-turtles. The message is: we’re not going anywhere. We’ve got enough candies that no other (M/M) CPs can hope to match in quantity, in quality.

(And the parade is indeed impressive.) (The reform also didn’t come out of thin air; there have been discussions about the supertopic’s candy sharing rules before.)

Some c-turtles have rightfully been concerned about how such a parade of candies can affect Gg and Dd. They point out that some candies should still remain 閱後即焚 (“burn after reading”, instant return to hiding after release like certain BTS videos); that at some point, c-turtles have to let go of their obsession of staying on top of the CP rankings. TU is already almost 2 years old, and being a little lower on the CP ranking list will take the heat off the YiZhan fandoms in the long run, incite less outside forces trying to fan the flames between the shrimps and the motors and the turtles.

The rules and guidelines of c-turtledom therefore remain a work in progress, and c-turtles, the millions of them, are still learning as they go.

Personally, I have faith in what will come. I also haven’t been too concerned about the candy parade, because most information is already out there for those who’re determined to find them — on Bilibili, Douyin, Zhihu etc. I spent some time talking about the Gg Assistant fic not with the goal of eliciting pain or panic, but rather, as a demonstration of why it has been the tradition of CPFs—not only the turtles—to play things very cautiously, with 閱後即焚 and 圈地自萌 (“to play within the circle”; ie, keep all information and candies within CPFs) being the default rules even after removing the “queer factor” from the discussion. Real person CPs have fate as one of their writers and so, unlike character CPs, their candies can have unintended, unpredictable consequences. As the YiZhan fandoms have now grown big enough that their candies can no longer be realistically well-contained, it may not be such a bad idea for especially the sensitive candies to return under the “jurisdiction” of the BJYX supertopic, so to speak. c-turtles can then gain better control of their comes-and-goes. Their narratives.

(CPN below.)

About narratives. @rainbowsky have previously written a thoughtful piece on the possible reasons the YiZhan fandoms have been allowed to thrive, and I’d like to add the following hypothesis—it may be a way to take pre-emptive control of the Gg/Dd narrative in preparation for the scenario where their relationship is exposed without their consent. Some i-turtles, I think, may have already gained a sense of how ruthless, cruel and above all, quick the c-ent rumour mill can be. If Gg and Dd get outed by a third party, chances are they won’t have time at all to create a fresh narrative, and the one that come out of the rumour mill will likely be … very ugly, containing every worst misconception people have against homosexual relationships. Whereas now, c-turtles already have a narrative at hand—the canon-fanon that, while c-turtles may not agree on every detail, is largely agreed upon on the important milestones. The supporting materials are also ready: the videos, the images, the voice and arrow guides on them.  

For me, another interesting question is whether this c-turtle rally and parade of candies are truly necessary in the end.

I’m curious about what will happen to the LLD supertopic when WoH completes its airing. There’s really no precedence for this kind of a mixed character + real person M/M CP supertopic setup — the history of Dangai is short, of popular Dangai’s, even shorter.

Guardian (鎮魂), the first successful Dangai aired exactly a year before TU (in the summer of 2018), never had a dedicated CP supertopic (please holler if I got this wrong! I know there’re Guardian fans here ~ hello! *waves*). Discussions of Guardian’s CPs were found within the drama’s supertopic (剧版镇魂); the real-person-CP also never had its own name; its discussions were hidden under the character CP (巍瀾) tag.

Then came TU. Its real person CP (BJYX) split away from its character CP (WangXian) long before the airing for the drama—the birthdate of the BJYX supertopic was 2018/04/28 (TU’s airing date: 2019/06/27).

After TU, two Dangai dramas have already aired before WoH that seemed to have largely passed the attention of i-fandom: The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty (成化十四年) and Winter Begonia (鬢邊不是海棠紅). Winter Begonia, in particular, was well received. Their character CPs never really took off, however, being conceived and perceived as more brotherhood than romance. Age also played a factor for Winter Begonia—Yun Zheng (尹正), known to many turtles as Dd’s motorcycle buddy, is 34, and Huang Xiaoming (黃曉明) is 43. The associated real person CPs also never became popular as a result; Huang Xiaoming’s famous marriage to a beautiful actress also meant that a real person CP was likely to be off the table for Winter Begonia from the start.

The best reference I can think of then, when it comes to speculating the fate of LLD, is therefore the fates of the CP supertopics of 2020’s summer hit, Love and Redemption (琉璃). I’ve talked about its character CP before; essentially, just days after the drama was done airing, the (het) character CP (初遇夫婦) was broken up and in a manner largely criticised as unnecessarily cruel to CP fans. Its supertopic closed immediately afterwards. The supertopic for the real-person-CP (冰橙汁) got to live, however, and is still active today.

The commercial forces behind WoH will likely break the character CP as soon as the drama is done airing; popular het and non-het character CPs in the recent years have gone through similar fates. What does this mean to LLD then? Does it mean the supertopic will be shutdown, since the drama itself already has its own supertopic? But what will happen then to its real-person CP, which has been incorporated within the LLD supertopic? Will the real-person CP be broken at the same time as the character CP to allow for immediate “purification” of real person CP fans into solo fans, to avoid future “headaches” like BYYX—a bound between the actors that cannot be severed—or 227 that, in the eyes of many passerbys, remains an issue of solo vs cpfs?

Only time will tell, and I very sincerely hope it’ll get a happy ending. Fans are made to love, and it saddens me every time to see them being severed from their loves, or pitted against each other especially when it’s clear it’s the social media platforms, the commercial interests behind the scenes — not just the production/media companies but the YXHs, the water armies — who will reap the benefits in the end. Personally, I feel no joy in seeing anyone’s favourites getting torn down, even if they aren’t my own. Gg and Dd’s safety — and the safety of every upstanding, hardworking c-ent entertainer like them — doesn’t hinge so much on their CP or solo or drama ranking, but whether their fans can refrain from bringing their conflicts into the public eye, from “occupying social resources”—ie, deflecting the public’s attention from the “core socialist values” the government intends it to focus on.

Fandom is big enough for us all.