#no might be the very thing that prompts him to reconsider himself and his assumptions and reflect on his conduct and values

[potionwine]

Oooh, you’ve also seen Nirvana in Fire?!? That was SO good. And as inspiration for PF?? That, explains some things, dang! It works

My friend. My dear. My lovely Cimi—

WHAT in the world—

Have I seen the drama that bloody changed my life; my favourite comfort c-drama; the series that I rewatch yearly the way I rewatch lotr every Christmastime; that exquisite story with the most incredible breadth and variety of characters with impeccable character work and amazing themes and an ending that respects its viewers which however tragic is thoroughly earned and identity porn and politics and pride and grief, god, so much grief—and an Emperor who is shakespearean in his tragedy and—

Okay. Okay, no, you could not have known, tis a failure of my part if I have not spoken enough about it—I probably mostly reply to other people's posts as they liveblog their watching but. BUT. God when I saw your ask it felt like you came up to me to remark "hey wow so you also ship PF?" that's how gobsmacked I was lol!!!

I have dragged everyone in my life into watching this show! I have mutuals on here who can testify to my introducing them to it omg. I just checked and the earliest NIF post I reblogged was in 2016 so I have been watching it every year since 2016 hahaha!!! Although it's pretty complex chinese, and since so much of the show is made up of characters sitting around talking the intricate plot into existence, it's not really a beginner-friendly c-drama either!!!

NOW I DIDN'T KNOW YOU'VE WATCHED IT TOO???!!!

I. have. been. going. UTTERLY MENTAL. at the lack of anyone with whom I could talk about it? OR SO I THOUGHT. So many times I thought of going into our discord to be like "has anyone ever heard of NIF because hhhhhhh the phoenixflare resonance" or like "so is anyone into TGCF perhaps perchance mayhap???"——because heh. hehehehe. heheheh??? My fic is practically a NIF/TGCF mashup, it's a Lin Shu+Xie Lian!Joshua Rosfield & Jingyan+Hua Cheng!Dion Lesage——and I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I wanted to ask god please does anyone else see my vision please god does anyone?? but no one would even understand the references, and I couldn't even ask in areas (asian fandom) where there would be a higher chance of people knowing what crack I'm on because asian fandom is all about that...you know...that I loathe—and I have been in pain and I thought right well fine I'm writing the fic anyway it's fine if I have no one to scream about it with because I'm writing it and then I'll find fellow competence porn+politics enjoyers if they find my fic and—and.

God. What an earth-shattering message to receive in my askbox! You are some sort of miracle <3

Do you see it??? Do you see it? A boy who burned to death in an inferno as an innocent betrayed youth in a catastrophic event caused by his own family, his father slain, his entire clan (and all the troops under his banner) wiped out or scattered. A boy reborn after extensive and horrific injuries after an agonisingly long period of recovery: a ghost who crawled his way out of the gates of hell, the last of his broken once-noble house.

That boy's transformation into his new identity of Mei Changsu/Margrace. His off-screen discovery of the truth that led to Meiling/Phoenix Gate and his continued on-screen quest to learn more. His determination to hold the true culprits accountable at immense personal cost and suffering. His dogged persistence despite incredible odds and visibly failing health. Being surrounded by people who love him and want to protect him, and himself constantly undermining their efforts because his goals are more important than his health. (Because in truth he knows perfectly well that he won't survive, but he can make a difference while he is alive.)

Something that amuses me hugely is how Lin Shu and Joshua literally both come back as 宗主? I love it so much! They come back with the same title! Both of them come back as clan leaders of an organisation that obeys their every command! Margrace is the 不死鳥教団の宗主(=leader of the cult of the undying bird) and Mei Changsu is 江左盟的宗主(=leader of the Jiangzuo alliance).

AND. Hooooo yea this PF fic is just JingSu at this point because oh, a handsome, principled, prideful, and stubborn prince who is a decorated warrior famed for his numerous military accomplishments and the man who is essential to the success of Lin Shu's/Joshua's plans? The resurrected boy barging into his prince's life: no matter how insane it is to choose your side, still "I choose you, Your Highness Prince Jing"??? The fact that the undervalued prince has a history with our secretive ghost protagonist? And (arguably) frequently thought about and missed the bright boy he knew once upon a time in happier days—"I know you," says Dion Lesage without a shadow of a doubt, extremely normal of him to instantly recognise a dead boy he met 20 years ago?

Mutual admiration of each other's integrity and capabilities? Reciprocal faith and remembrance? The foundation of deep respect and enduring friendship, their shared goals and shared family??? I froth at the mouth. JingSu are cousins, PF are stepsiblings by their parents' marriage. Each pair is bound by destiny and by choice—other people have made choices that permanently entangled each pair's lives together forevermore (Joshua+Dion and Jingyan+Xiaoshu), and the choice they themselves personally made to choose each other—

DO YOU SEE THE VISION.

How difficult it is to pursue justice when everyone involved is family and how impossible it is for Lin Shu the nigh-extinguished Chiyan fire for Joshua, the guttering flame, to indict Jingyan's father the Emperor of Liang Dion's father the Emperor of Sanbreque of his crimes against Joshua's family without opening old wounds and hurting many loved ones in the process including Dion himself. The people directly responsible for the tragedies are related to the protagonists in one way or another! If Lin Shu Joshua ever wants resolution for his grief unending, he has to strike at his beloved's father, and plot meticulously to avoid all of the dangers of attacking such a powerful enemy.

(Of course, I acknowledge the critical difference in Jingyan's versus Dion's feelings about their respective fathers.)

Now if only Joshua had done the famous blizzard scene with Dion instead of letting him go off to carry out his ill-advised coup—"Xiao Jingyan! You stand where you are! If I don't stop you today, what are you going to do? What do you think you can possibly accomplish if you charge in to challenge imperial power like this? Do you think you can simply force the Emperor [to do what you want/change his mind about Anabella Wei Zheng]? You have honour and valour but why do you just not have brains! How many more people must be hurt, you tell me!"

Anyway Joshy doesn't have the insufferable smugness of Xiaoshu but he does absolutely have Xiaoshu's pride, the sort of pride that is not just personal pride but familial pride too (after all Joshua comes from extremely prestigious lineage)—just look at how he speaks to Ultima in every scene, his lordly manner. Joshua I think has more Consort Jing to him, and Consort Jing is only my favourite character in all of NIF, in a drama where I love every character to bits—steel in softness, ever gentle ever polite yet not to be bullied and not to be underestimated and also extremely perceptive and learned and patient. Extra sweet bonus that Consort Jing is also a healer. Elegant, restrained, and very repressed. Who knows the depths of Joshua's Consort Jing's grief and loss?

But you know, Jingyan, near the end he is completely in charge—the prince who was always a great and respected general on the battlefield is now more than that, he's directly taking responsibility for all of his people as their future ruler—that means thinking on multiple fronts and exerting control over all of the key governing officials, not merely his military officers. He's leading with confidence, and there's that little scene where he apologises to Xiaoshu for taking action on several plans without consulting him, and Xiaoshu says no, this is the way it should be, this is the correct state of affairs: you are the crown prince, and this is rightfully your arena. You lead, you decide, you command.

Jingyan now sees clearly, he's found out and accepted the truths of his father's role in the atrocity at Meiling and everything that happened back then. He rightly perceives the failings of his family and seeks to redress past wrongs and avoid repetition of past mistakes, he weeds his court of the corrupt and the cowardly, he's become the best possible version of himself: stronger than ever, not just a powerful wartime commander-in-chief but an inspiring leader in the imperial court, careful, thoughtful and politically up-to-speed, finally stable in his sense of self instead of being permanently stuck as that angry and lost and hurting child. He has renewed purpose, he possesses hope for the future, he is able to dedicate himself fully to what he truly believes to be right and act in furtherance of righteous causes—

Critically, this is the man he becomes only because Xiaoshu came back into his life to shake it up. Without Xiaoshu he wouldn't even have the opportunity or means or knowledge. The radiant and fiery boy who Jingyan missed all his life came back to save him. From the outsider prince without contacts or support within the imperial court->to the crown prince who has the court subdued within the palm of his hand. From his pitiful existence as a neglected, unfavoured prince, his lowkey constant simmering resentment, his half-dutiful half-forced obedience of paternal orders that chafe at his conscience->into the steadfast and self-assured prince who is capable of fighting for the betterment of his country and the rallying point for virtuous officials who share those aspirations. The drama shows the audience that Jingyan is unquestionably ready to assume rulership, and together with the person he loves most, they achieve their goals, they save each other and their country (by arresting its downward slide due to the rotten state of its governance).

It's just a strong headcanon of mine (albeit one that I can absolutely present extensive arguments for) but to me Joshua Rosfield is the one and only character able to perform that same abovementioned function for Dion Lesage. Catalyst, turning point, spark that ignites the fire—whatever you call it, this is salvation. It is beautifully poetic that both Lin Shu and Joshua are characterised by fire. They are the fires of change that burn away the old life: before their arrival, the two war princes exist in a state of wearying routine, long-suffering and almost hopeless. Both Jingyan and Dion are shackled by their stations and duties, both are unloved sons with virtually no chance of their circumstances improving without drastic action, and both are trapped in precarious situations where they are subject to the whims of their father (if their imperial fathers turn on them, it will result in irrevocable loss of their status).

Dion's position is weak in the Oriflamme imperial court—pretty sure this point isn't up for debate, since no one ever speaks up in support of him despite the obvious injustice of his ill-treatment. His degree of influence in the court is much, much, so much less than any reasonable person might expect someone who is literally Bahamut and crown prince to have. The Council of Elders and other officials stand by haplessly while he is progressively stripped of power in favour of Olivier. Nobody defends him, nobody objects. (Or maybe some did, and were eliminated.) Even Dion himself submits to the abuse despite inherently superior abilities. Career politicians know which direction the winds blow—they don't defy their Empress, meaning they are either her cronies or too fearful of her to make themselves a target by any raising any opposition. Added to that is the implication that Dion was often away for long periods—and as Xiaoshu explicitly tells Jingyan in the drama, the crown prince cannot leave the imperial capital untended because that is the surest way to lose power. Dion may be Sanbreque's mightiest weapon and revered by the populace, but in practice his political sway is almost negligible. He is not able to leverage himself effectively.

Don't get me wrong, for these reasons I extra extra love the canon portrayal of J*** obeying Joshua against her wishes and T****** obeying Dion against his wishes—I absolutely think their obedience is, to them, the truest and highest and final demonstration of their love and understanding of their respective masters. And both Joshua and Dion expected no less from them. [I've not typed the names out just in case the search function ends up capturing the post and putting it in their tags, not because I hate those characters; I just don't want to be uncivil within fandom.]

But the very point here is that, you know, sometimes you aren't supposed to leave someone just because they say so. Sometimes it is the worst possible course of action to obey someone just because they command it. Sometimes it is undesirable at best and disastrous at worst to support someone's every decision out of unchanging (if uncharitable, one might even say unthinking) loyalty. That is a fundamentally unequal relationship, and while beautiful in its own way, is also uniquely doomed. The truth is, Joshua was always going to pull that trigger, and Dion was always going to pull that trigger: the master was always going to sever the relationship. Those pairs were doomed as soon as they began, because one party can only ever say yes, and yes means the end, you see? That is The End, that is the final break. By their very subordinate nature and by their established personalities within the game, "yes" is the one and only answer J*** and T****** can ever or will ever give. Their master will say, "Leave me", meaning it is over, and they will reply, "Yes, I obey". Because this is the only answer that proves their devotion, leaving them totally incapable of changing the script. Both J*** and T****** knew it and played their parts to perfection, and my heart hurts for them.

In NIF terms, I reckon J*** is Gong Yu, and T****** is Lie Zhanying. Zhanying will follow Jingyan to the end, whatever it may be—in fact in one episode he explicitly says so, and his loyalty is never in doubt. He will go to his death if Jingyan orders it. He will always support Jingyan's decisions. He and the rest of Jingyan's men have been following Jingyan even when the prince was out of favour and cold-shouldered and constantly dispatched to safeguard the country's frontiers—inconvenient places where comfort is low and the environment harsh. Jingyan's favoured brothers live in the lap of luxury within their palaces (like Olivier), while Jingyan himself (like Dion) has always been at war. And as with Zhanying, T****** will never be able to change this status quo on behalf of Jingyan (Dion). For all his boundless dedication to his lord, Zhanying will never be able to improve his prince's standing in the court, never be able to secure more political power for his prince (unless his prince decides to revolt/coup), never be able to make his prince's father love or prize his prince.

It is not a problem of character or willpower or desire. It is, simply put, a problem of power. It is a problem of class. The servant rises as their master rises, and falls as their master falls. In other words, the servant's status is determined by their master's status. Zhanying is Jingyan's deputy. When Jingyan's status was elevated, Zhanying naturally also assumed commandership over more troop divisions because those were allocated to the prince by the Liang Emperor. (There is no doubt in my mind that T******'s status as second-in-command is because of Prince Dion. He's too young to have earned that position by gradual promotion through meritorious accomplishment. Unless you're telling me that the knights dragoon don't have a single officer above age 30.) Zhanying is invaluable to Prince Jing in security, in warcraft, and in a variety of generic daily tasks. However, he is part of the rigid imperial system and lower in the hierarchy. He may persuade his lord, but he cannot order him. He may disagree, but he cannot defy. He may privately despise the Emperor/Empress, but he cannot show it and cannot act on it (literally treason). His role is to follow and obey. If he does not perform that role for whatever reason, he fundamentally negates his utility to his lord.

Ergo, endgame Jingyan is only possible because his true equal and soulmate, his real zhiji, came back to challenge the status quo. In fact, came back to challenge him. It is not merely the fact that this person understands him above all, it is also the fact that this person has the ability to act on that understanding. Jingyan is technically also Xiaoshu's prince, master, and eventual Emperor—so where is the difference?

The difference is, Lin Shu is comparable in nobility. Lin Shu is the cousin of princes and the incumbent Emperor's nephew, Lin Shu was raised amongst the imperial household, and played and studied and fought and hung out with them as peers of roughly equal rank. In this respect Joshua actually outstrips Lin Shu: Joshua is a prince by blood, and had Rosaria not fallen (especially if Sylvestre had not risen to the throne), would have been higher status than Dion. It's a massive pet peeve of mine that so many fans in XVI fandom don't seem to realise that Joshua was crown prince? Everybody knows Dion is crown prince, but do they realise Joshua is the original? In the English version prologue, the knights do call him "prince" and "your highness". The Rosarian throne is Joshua's by right of birth. At the time of their meeting as children, Joshua outranked Dion. They were equals as Dominants of their nation, but Dion back then was the child of a Cardinal and not the child of Sanbreque's ruler at that time; i.e. he was not a prince and not in line for the Sanbrequois throne.

The other wonderful similarity is Lin Shu's and Joshua's statuses as outsiders to the system when they reintroduce themselves to Jingyan/Dion. As Jingyan's strategist, Lin Shu has more leeway with regards to making his prince listen to him and take his advice. But importantly, he is now Mei Changsu, and that means he is able to play outside of the system. The imperial system effectively cast him out when it killed him. The strict codes of imperial conduct no longer chain him as they chain those confined within its structure. As a free agent unlike Zhanying, he has the right and privilege of choosing his own master. That includes the right to leave or to change his mind. And although the prince's strategist is supposed to be subordinate too, Xiaoshu would never truly be subordinate in the same fashion no matter how many times he bows his head, because at his core he is still high nobility and it still shines through despite everything. His manners are still perfect. He still navigates life with the easy expectation that people will serve him. He grabs the Duchess' hand and yells at Prince Jing and gloats at Marquis Ning. It's all the little ways that remind the audience, over and over, that this man was raised as a posh lordling. You can remove the boy from the upper class but you can't remove the upper class from the boy. It's the same with Joshua. His manners are still court-perfect. He still moves through life accepting that he will be served. He may bow his head to Dion and call him "your highness" but he also takes the liberty of throwing himself at Dion for a hug. Because to him, the prince is not some lofty and untouchable figure to be addressed with unfailing deference, he's just a friend.

(I know T****** is minor nobility, to be honest Zhanying definitely is too. The deputies of high level royals aren't going to be commoners. But I don't think I have to explain the gulf between ruling class/a close blood relative of the monarch versus lower nobility.)

Joshua too is an outsider that isn't beholden to Sanbreque's Emperor in the way that all of Dion and his knights owe their fealty. Again in this respect Joshua has it better than Xiaoshu—Joshua is his own sovereign master, and that should impact his perspective, his sense of self, and therefore his behaviour with others and how he navigates the world.

Gong Yu... I think anyone who's watched NIF will know exactly why I say that J***'s counterpart is Gong Yu lol. I think the s/h/u/a/t/e/s want her counterpart to be Princess (Duchess) Nihuang and they certainly produce fanwork in that vein, and I respect them for it because fans be doing what they love and hooray for that. But..... she's Gong Yu.

For all these reasons I am utterly obsessed with a Joshua that pushes back at Dion. The person able to challenge the status quo and challenge Dion. An equal who listens to Dion's absurd speech in the palace at Twinside and calls utter bullshit, who says, "A matter for the imperial family? are you joking? that's my mother, that's my younger brother. an imperial matter for you to resolve? say rather, our family, OUR problem to resolve. You don't get to go off half-cooked to arrest or kill my mother without actual political strategies, notwithstanding your military capability to launch a coup. And also, what about your dad? However much I love you, my darling Dion, we have to talk about the way that you insist on poor little meow meowing your awful father because my dear old mum didn't do Phoenix Gate alone and she for sure didn't immaculately conceive Olivier."

Endgame Dion isn't satisfactory in several glaring ways and it annoys me hugely that even unto the end he never grapples with and confronts the truth of his father instead of the idealised version that lives in his head. It's a little bizarre how Dion's arc is often praised by fans, since it feels very incomplete to me. Or, well, fine, perhaps just unsatisfying (since XVI simply isn't his story). His deep-seated need to be loved by his father prevents him from seeing anything clearly, which is so ironic for the only character to possess a third eye in canon? His honour and his might have been squandered in service to a selfish, uncaring, and objectively bad monarch, yet despite how earnestly Dion wants to be a good prince to his people he seems wholly incapable of recognising this fact? His mind repeatedly shies away from his father's shortcomings. In one scene he calls his father out for words befitting a tyrant, yet ultimately he persists in the belief that his father simply needs to be saved from Anabella's evil influence as if Sylvestre Lesage isn't a 50-year-old adult man who schemed his way to the throne and killed a woman's whole family and happily married that woman to beget legitimate offspring with her.

Soooo....... I've just spoiled the whole plot of my fic but it's really just NIF nonsense as usual and that is actually extremely predictable of me. But honestly the spoiling is not a big deal, because as with NIF, fundamentally my story is not meant to be plot-twisty and suspenseful—the real storytelling skill of the NIF drama is that the audience should be able to quickly grasp the overarching plot with no difficulty because the pleasure of this particular type of story is to watch the protagonist achieve their heart's desire, step by delicious step. The objective of this type of story is to properly pay off what it promises. NIF=the wronged protagonist seeks justice. We already know Lin Shu will obtain justice by the end of the tale, what we are here to enjoy is the journey! Same really for IEM I reckon; by the end of chapter 1 Joshua's goals should be really obvious, and since my little fic will have the happy ending tag because I only ever write happy endings, the audience basically knows he'll succeed—it's very much a journey not destination kind of story.

Ooof the post is crazy long and took me 3 nights to compose an answer and I haven't even managed to go into any TGCF elements but that work mainly contributes to characterisation instead of plot. One of the craziest XVI scenes was the Hideaway's sickbay after Twinside, the genuine regret Joshua expressed and how he blamed himself for not reaching out to Dion sooner; now the Empire and her prince lie in ruins etc. Surely he remembers this is the country that destroyed his own? Surely??? What kind of person, robbed of home and throne, can find it in himself to respond with so much empathy and kindness? Sanbreque has now experienced pretty much the same tragedy they inflicted on Rosaria two decades ago, and isn't that just the funniest parody of divine retribution? Instead of viewing this as Sanbreque's just deserts, Joshua Rosfield pities them and wishes he could have helped them avert this disaster.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonderfully Xie Lian-coded. Something something someone who has been through the worst and nevertheless chooses goodness and kindness. Someone who intimately understands the ugliest and lowest depths that people sink to, yet refuse to lose themselves in that temptation even when vengeance would seem perfectly justified.

You've known for a long time now that I love a Joshua who is very similar to his mother. This is why lol. It's about that delicious, delicious contrasting foil. It is the difference between Jun Wu & Xie Lian, as it is the difference between Anabella & Joshua. That the indestructible integrity we see from Xie Lian or Joshua didn't come easy, they weren't born perfect, their ethics were tested and forged and earned through suffering the likes of which most people will never know. The person that they have each become is the sum of their choices actively made. In the canon of TGCF and XVI, both of these ex-crown-princes live on in disgrace, in circumstances best described as reduced and humiliating, their respective kingdoms fallen, their wealth and glory spent—but they are better and braver human beings than everyone around them, they are beautiful and noble souls, quiet and unacknowledged, and only Hua Cheng and Dion truly see and fully understand that (and therefore cannot help but love them utterly).

I've a few more thoughts regarding Joshua swirling around as captured in other Xie Lian posts: here, here, here, and here. Not sure if you know TGCF or are into it as well, but just leaving links to those posts here for my own benefit too. I've been gravitating towards phoenixflare comparisons in various hualian meta posts since early 2024 so clearly these concepts have been stewing in my head for some duration, but I haven't fully teased out what it is about these two ships that gives me that niggling sense of connecting similarities.

^ Whereas I clearly know exactly what it is about JingSu that makes me point and holler "THEM!"

[sardinesandhumbugs]

(a-place-to-come-back-to) hmmm “You can keep pretending, but you’ll never be happy” gives me Badger Rat Sr and Toad Sr vibes

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! This ficlet is set fairly early into Badger's friendship with Rat Sr and Toad Sr, before things settled into the easy friendship he remembers. Even the best of friendships can have... bumpy origins :D

Want to request a prompt? Find the list here!

x

Rat considered himself a fairly laid back sort of animal (a necessary trait for growing up alongside the undaunted Toad) but even he had second (not to mention first) thoughts when it came to the Wild Wood.

He was sure most of the rumours were merely malicious hearsay (for instance, he was fairly certain the locals didn't eat wayward Riverbankers) but he doubted any animal – Wild Wooder or no – would take kindly to the disturbance. For, upon the rusted bell-pull detaching (the bell itself had given one dull toll before giving up the ghost) Toad had set to hammering and hollering at the unadorned door with the kind of volume that would wake the dead – and, more importantly, the living, who were far more likely to take matters into their own paws.

"Honestly, I don't know how he ever entertains guests," Toad lamented in a rare lapse in the cacophony. "Can barely find the blasted place and then when you do you don't realise it. You'd think an animal like Badger would clear the ivy from the name plate once in a while or make sure his bell is in working order. Any lesser animal visiting would have admitted defeat by now," he said, as usual looking but not truly seeing.

"Perhaps we should reconsider this," Rat said, who had taken good note of the state of disrepair of Badger's front porch and come to a bleak conclusion of his own. "He may not even be home."

"Oh pooh to that, of course he's home. Anyway, Rat, it was you who took note of his recent change in mood."

"And I was thinking of a subtler approach."

"You say subtler, I say slower." Evidently deciding that his knocking was falling into the subtle category, Toad added his raised voice to the mix. "Come along, Badge; who cares what the hares say? Be the bigger animal we know you are and come on out!"

"Badge?" Rat echoed.

Toad shrugged. "I'm trying it out. 'Badger' is such a mouthful."

"It's two syllables."

"And I'm halving that. It's called efficiency. BADGE!" Rat jumped at the brusque rise in volume. "Badger, we know you're there! What do you think you're achieving with this hiding away, huh? Do you think this is what you want? To live alone in a dark and dingy tunnel all your life? We know you, Badge! You can keep pretending, but you'll never be happy like this!"

The door swung open so abruptly that Badger must have already been standing on the other side for some time. He loomed over the two Riverbankers, his face half cast in shadow from the wood's gloom. "You know nothing about me," he growled.

"Oh, we know plenty," Toad contradicted happily. He took advantage of Badger's oversight in opening the door, and slipped past the larger animal. "Such as the state you leave your front porch in. Where should I put the bell-pull? Oh, no matter; I'll send for a new one when I'm back at Toad Hall."

Badger glowered, but could do little about Toad's entrance without hauling him bodily out, and turned back to the remaining Riverbanker on his doorstep. "I suppose," he intoned, "you plan on following your friend inside."

It was at this point that Rat realised there was at least a yard's grace between them – if not more – that had been of his own making. He shortened it, knowing full well that his instinctive retreat had not gone unnoticed. "Badger–"

"Just get yourself inside before your tail freezes off."

Rat scurried in. As Badger hauled the door shut, the brumal weather outside lost its icy grip and the beneath-ground air yielded a steady, heavy warmth quite unlike Riverbank homes in winter. (Toad Hall suffered particularly badly in the yuletide season, saved only by the ludicrous expense Toad went to keep such a grand house heated.)

Up ahead, Toad had already started scoping out the elusive sett that paid host to so few animals. "I say, Badge," he called, his voice echoing in such a manner to indicate he had put quite the distance between them, "I take back what I said earlier; dark this place may be, but dingy it most certainly is not."

Rat followed Badger through the dimly-lit tunnels, passing through decreasingly lived-in rooms until finally coming to the cause of Toad's admiration. It was, Rat had to admit, grand. Ancient columns, half buried into the walls, lined the room that could fit Toad Hall's ballroom with ease, and Toad was already setting to lighting the lanterns to better appraise the space.

"Badge, you never said you had a place like this!" Toad exclaimed. "Why, just think of the balls, the banquets, that could be hosted in a space such as this! I admit, the acoustics are a little harsh, but I have just the tapestries to dampen the sound, and with a spot of extra light it'd be perfect!"

Rat glanced to Badger out of the corner of his eye and read the larger animal's stony expression.

"I apologise. Toad means well, but he puts far too much stock in the art of distraction as a solution," he muttered. He inclined his head. "Mind you, he often gripes that I'd try to talk the river out of flooding if I could, so I suspect we even each other out."

"I prefer action, myself," Badger grumbled.

They watched a moment longer as Toad bounced across the empty space, chattering to nobody about the grand plans he could see strewn out before him. ("Naturally, this is where the band would go... and the buffet would sit along here, I'm thinking cold meats, cheeses; the last thing you want is the smell of cooked food suffocating a place like this...")

"I can probably talk him out of it," Rat offered quietly, "if you'd like."

Badger scoffed and retreated into the more inhabited rooms. "He can organise as many damn parties as he likes, so long as he doesn't come complaining to me when no animal arrives."

Rat had to take two quick steps for every one of Badger's long strides, eager to stay in the pool of light cast by Badger's lantern. "Oh, I think you underestimate Toad – he has quite a way with folk when he sets his mind to it. It can be both very useful and infuriating."

"I'm sure he does," Badger said, "but what possible reason could he tempt animals down to a place like this with?"

"Good food, good music," Rat rattled off. "Drink. Conversation. Gossip, usually." He hesitated, and added, "Curiosity."

"And is that why you came?"

"We came," and Rat hurried so that he and his words would not be left behind, "because we were worried about you."

Badger halted so abruptly that Rat had to skip a step back to avoid walking into him. "Worried?" he echoed incredulously. "About me?"

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Rat hastened on before Badger could remark upon Toad's distraction. "I'm sorry if we pressured you into joining us for the harvest festival; Toad's so extraverted that I think he forgets not everyone is, and I... well, I thought you might enjoy it. I hadn't realised that, being a born and bred Riverbanker, I might not have seen... some of the more insensitive sides of the other animals."

Badger met Rat's gaze with an expression Rat couldn't quite decipher. "So you heard what was being said?"

"I heard enough."

An odd choice indeed, the whispers had gone as Toad's newest friend had made his social debut, but, then again, toads are an odd bunch anyway, almost as odd as badgers are solitary, and that's just a fact.

Unusual to see a badger out of the Wild Woods, more unusual still to see one in the company of animals other than their own kind.

It probably won't last.

Everyone knows what they say about badgers changing their stripes.

"And then, when we didn't see you for a week, of course we worried," Rat said, trying to turn the conversation round to matters he could control. "We wanted to make sure you were alright."

Badger scoffed again and turned down a corridor that opened out into a fire-lit kitchen. "And why would you care?"

"We care because we're your friends."

Badger turned on his heel. "Are you?"

Too late, Rat realised he'd flinched back, that same instinctive wariness springing up around a mammal so much larger than himself. Around a mammal that was possibly more Wild Wood than Undergrounder, and he didn't want to find out which side was dominant.

Badger's gaze moved derisively over the sudden space between them. "That's what I thought," he growled. "I'm not a charity case and I'm not a curiosity, and you'd do well to learn that."

"Was he wrong?"

Badger faltered, if only for a moment. "What?"

"Toad," Rat said, clinging onto the single truth that had propelled him this far. "Was he wrong? Are you happy here?"

"I am... accustomed to things the way they are," Badger replied.

"Are you happy?" Rat persisted. "If you are, then we'll get out of your fur. I'll find a way to drag Toad out of his harebrained schemes, and things can go back to the way they were. But... if you're not – if you have enjoyed the past few months with – with us – then let us stay."

The silence lingered for just a heartbeat too long.

Badger turned away. "I'm fine. I always am."

"I asked if you are happy, not fine," Rat amended. He watched as Badger took a seat at the tired armchair at the head of the kitchen table, and Rat cautiously drew up a chair a little further down. For not the first time – albeit perhaps not as acutely as now – he wondered just how Badger had come to be alone in this sett built for generations. There had certainly always been badgers here, but Rat had paid them little heed before now, for they were a reclusive species and generally kept to their own kin and everyone was happy with that.

He winced.

There it was again, that assumption.

It was the same assumption that had led to such obtuse remarks at the harvest festival and, indeed, Rat could not honestly deny that even he had expected Toad's newest acquaintance to be a passing fad at first. (Toad had a way with folk that rendered many friendships forged but rarely followed-up, and Rat had originally been comfortable with the assumption that Badger would be another such encounter.)

"You know," Rat said, pushing such thoughts aside, "Toad and I didn't – actually, don't, present tense – always get along." He pulled the chair a smidgen closer to the table, settling it with the overt intent to stay. "He reacts a little too impulsively, and I perhaps too little, and we clash as often as we agree." Badger didn't respond, and Rat figured this was as close to permission to continue as he was going to get. "We argued over coming here, in fact." He snorted. "Toad won, of course and I'm – well, I'm glad he did."

"Why are you here, Rat?"

Rat startled at the question he'd thought already answered. "I told you, because you're–"

"Truly. No saccharine sentiments."

Rat faltered, the easy platitude taken from him. In the space he took to consider, a clock tolled somewhere deep in the sett. "I suppose," he started slowly, "it's because I think we could be friends. If we wanted to. If we tried. And because I think, however much you protest, maybe you want that too."

x

A/N: The inspiration for this piece was Vienna Teng's Stray Italian Greyhound song which is technically about learning to fall in love for the first time, but I like interpreting it in a learning to trust a friendship for the first time way. (Especially in Badger's case for this, realising oopsie I caught platonic feels and life was so much easier before, not sure if I hate or love this.) If you want some added feels for this fic, go look up that song ;)

[mcspirkholidayfest]

We All Fall Sooner or Later

We All Fall Sooner or Later

Warnings: None Rating: M

Pairing: [AOS] McSpirk (Leonard Horatio McCoy x S’chn T’gai Spock x James Tiberius Kirk)

Prompt: Everyone is under the impression that Bones hate Valentine’s day. For years he grumbles and does nothing but hate on it. Little do they know,  Bones adores Valentine’s day, he is the purest form of a closet romantic, but absolutely hates being single. When he gets together with Jim and Spock however, their first Valentine’s day together rolls around both Jim and Spock are absolutely floored at the romantic overtures and plans Bones has made for them. They are more than happy however to show their appreciation.

Filled by: @hetercgeneity

Jim

Breakfast was tense– as usual. Everyone’s movements were precise and calculated. They worked like machinery, on autopilot. Jim was at the table with his two eggs, a cup of mandatory vitamins, a scoop of potatoes, and a PADD going over data from the night shift. Spock was meditating in the corner, his tea too hot to drink beside him. It would be cool enough to drink when he was finished meditating, like always. And Bones-

Jim straightened when there wasn’t the noisy bustle in their bedroom. Getting up, he headed for the sliding panel and peaked inside only to see the bed made. A glance at the corners said that Spock did it, Bones should be getting out of the shower, grumpy and grumbling about patients (that he cared about too much), about space (which he loved for the sake of it making Jim so “damn happy”), and then about the way the corners of the blankets were tucked. But there was no noise from the bathroom, no chime of the coffee machine for Leonard’s black, dark brew. “Spock?” There was a short hum in return even if the Vulcan didn’t move. “Have you seen Bones?”

“Leonard left this morning before either of us woke. Judging by the temperature on his side of the bed, I would estimate his departure to have been before 0500. It is 2258.45, or Julian calendar date February 14th. I am not aware of any prior obligations that he made that would have required him to depart so early, nor was there an emergency call, as I too would have been woken by the sound of his communicator.”

Jim rubbed his face and pushed his fingers back through his hair, teasing the messy blond strands into some kind of order. Something twisted in his gut though, one of those feelings before something went really wrong, or really right. With Bones… There was never any telling which way it was going to go. He hesitated before going to the closet and pulled out one of his uniforms, thank God he didn’t wear blue. “I’m going to head to sickbay and see if he’s there-” Jim started, but then there was a hand on his lower back and the press of lips against his temple.

“I believe the saying is that two heads are better than one- I will accompany you.”

Jim smiled for the first time that morning and leaned into the touch at his side and looked up at the Vulcan behind him. “Then we can head to sickbay together and if he’s not there we can split up from there.” Spock nodded accepting the rather ramshackle plan– but logically (christ, Jim could practically hear him saying it) Bones could only get so far without someone knowing something.

Leonard

Infants. Both of them.

Leonard grumbled to himself behind a stack of PADDs as he continued filling out the paperwork that always seemed to be endlessly backed up. He sighed, dropping down into the chair behind his desk before dropping his head into his hands. “Shit-” Nothing. Not from either of them. Annoyed, and a bit disheartened, Leonard dropped the PADD down and leaned back into his chair. Hell, he didn’t even get a thank you. From Spock, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the gestures went unnoticed. A small red package on a lab station might have been ignored for a later time, but Jim… He unconsciously ran his thumb over the pendant he wore; the face of Saint Luke was significantly worn off by the wear and tear of his own anxious fingers over three years in space. Leonard expected more– expected something.

When Jim pushed through the door like he owned the damn place, the doctor only grimaced, biting out a quick and obviously distracted, “What do you want, Jim, I’m busy?” He snapped, earning a puzzled expression from the blond who, of course, looked up as Spock stepped in behind him. “I don’t have time for this, for either of ya’. Out.”

Jim was starting nearly before Leonard could even finish what he was saying,  “But Bo-”

“Out. Jim, now. You too, Pointy.”

The reply was stern, and one of those that Jim wouldn’t argue with. Spock bristled slightly, putting a hand at the base of Jim’s back, fingers tightening into his command yellow shirt before slowly stepping back towards the door. Leonard watched, fingers twitching and breathing hitched by the stress of asking them to leave. Yeah, it was a simple request, but he didn’t really want him to. When Jim walked over, the doctor nearly lost what little restraint he had managed to grab hold of without the help of liquid courage. “Okay. I’ll see you after delta shift for dinner, right?” Jim asked before Leonard became aware of too gentle fingers curled around his shoulder and then it was gone and both of them sank away from the hushed and rushed, “yeah, sure, Jim.”

Leonard almost stopped dead in his “cold-shoulder” approach to not being as passive aggressive as usual when the blond moved away like that- sad, disheartened. But before he could say anything, Jim was at the door with Spock and the two were leaving. Just like that. But that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Some time to brood and be upset on his own terms without needing to answer anyone’s questions…

This was their first Valentine’s Day together and now… Leonard wasn’t sure who was wrong.

Spock

“I do not understand why you and Leonard insist on calling me ‘Pointy’. Your derogatory reference is not lost on me. I just do not see why you would attempt to offend me when we are in a romantic relationship.” Spock hummed once they were in the turbolift heading to the bridge, Jim had been silent for the walk there, and the tension built in Spock’s stomach uncomfortably; it upset the calm that he normally found with the other men. Perhaps they were the eye of a storm, and still a hurricane all at once. Deceivingly calm when together and contented, and unstoppable simultaneously.

Jim only hummed. A response that was very far from desirable. Jim was always brighter than the sun. He bubbled with laughter without being prompted, and had the gravity of the sun. He was so easy to fall in love with, and with him (of course) came Leonard. The doctor was even easier. Beneath his hardened exterior- behind the front that he put up for everyone to see- he made Jim’s heart of gold look dull and tarnished. Spock tried and tried to break through to that part of him, but it took time, and patience that he wasn’t sure he had. Until he realized that he already had. Their bickering wasn’t meant to be malicious, but sport. The difference was tucked into slight smiles and playful snorts. Of course, Spock should have known better; he should have seen those little differences. But love wasn’t always obvious, nor was it always logical. Still… Gravity had a way of working and, someway or another, he would have to fall sooner or later.

Spock put his hand on Jim’s lowered back. The Vulcan opened his mouth to speak, but paused, and reconsidered when he realized that he had no verbal comfort to offer the captain. His communicator started to beep just as Jim leaned into him. Typical. Jim, statistically found the worst possible times to initiate elongated physical contact, but Spock, still tired, was in no mood to ask him to move. Fussing around the embrace, “Spock- here.”

“There’s been a bypass code used to get into one of the conference rooms on deck four, sir. We’ve tried reaching the Captain, but he isn’t answering and we–” There was a pause, “We assumed that you two would have been together today.”

“You’ve assumed correctly, ensign. The Captain is with me and we were just headed to the bridge, a personal matter with the CMO kept us from arriving on time. Our sincerest apologies and will check the situation on the way to the bridge. Spock out.” The Vulcan looked down at the blond and lowered down to press greenish lips across golden hair. “He’ll be fine, Jim.”

“I know, doesn’t mean that I’m not going to worry about him, Spocko, and we call you ‘Pointy’ because the tips of your ears turn green when we do.” Ah, and Jim was right. Both he and Leonard had the tendency to notice things about Spock that he often failed to notice about himself. The older man gently laced an arm around Jim’s waist and stopped on deck four as was requested.

Jim

The sheer magnitude of the celebration was astounding. One wall was taken up by pictures of the three of them. Jim smiled fondly and ran his fingers across some of them while Spock stood in the doorway taking it all in with his usual reserved manner. “Oh, Bones.” He sighed happily, plucking one off the steel to look at it closer. It was their first Valentine’s Day. The memory was a fond one. Dinner, a night out. Bones planned the whole thing and- shit. After all the complaining and the moaning and the groaning, everyone assumed that Leonard McCoy took a Grinch like approach to Valentine’s Day. Jim was no different. “I’m such an ass.” He muttered to himself, whipping around to look at Spock.

“It seems that both you and I were false in our assumptions that Leonard was against the celebration of this specific terran holiday.” He decided, the tips of his ears green and the corners of his mouth were tipped upwards. It might have only been a few degrees, but it was a smile nonetheless. “I am afraid that I do not have anything to reciprocate in such magnitude.”

Normally, Jim wouldn’t agree with such ease, but yeah. Spock was right. All of this was so much, and so wonderful. “I’ve got an idea– but I need a few things from you. Do you think that you could avoid Bones for the rest of the day? We’re already fucked for missing this so far.” Spock made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a chuckle, but bit back whatever witty remark that Jim certainly didn’t need to hear right now. One of those notions (Spock laughing) that was so few and far between, that it made Jim smile even brighter.

“Anything you need. I will inform the bridge crew that we are unavailable and that we will take double shifts tomorrow evening to make up for our absence.”

While decorating wasn’t exactly Jim’s idea of a good time, given the chance to embarrass either of the two men that he had elected to spend the rest of his life with, he would always go through with it. That’s how he ended up in the replication room for at least three hours– flowers were a pain in the ass. While Leonard might have managed at God only knows what time that morning– Jim was hardly the most patient of men, and Spock kept Bones busy and out of the way even at the risk of making him grouchier. It would be worth it every single time. Leonard started him with a great idea though. With one wall covered in pictures (thanks to the doctor) the opposite wall was filled with different memories of those moments captured and then printed. Ticket stubs, or dinner receipts, or the occasional hand written letter (those were mostly from Spock because Leonard still couldn’t read Vulcan script and it pissed him off to no end).

There was no way to compare the work put into Leonard’s half of the room, but Jim thought it was nice and when he sent pictures to Spock, the Vulcan seemed genuinely pleased with what had been done. The rest was a piece of cake. A small table- set for three- and something familiar. “And you thought M’Benga made good cookies-” Jim smirked, setting the last bits down before pulling out his communicator and drawing up the shields on the large, transparent wall that looked out into the endless twinkle of stars in space.

“Kirk to sickbay. Could you send Doctor McCoy to the bridge on a code four allergic reaction?” There was some bustle on the other end before he earned an extremely annoyed response from the doctor. Despite the tone, Jim smiled brightly.

Spock

“Damnit, Jim. What the hell did you eat this time? “ Leonard cursed into the communicator, and was rushing out of the sickbay only to meet Spock in the turbolift. “What are you doing down here? Jim could be dying on the bridge right now and you’re still follo-” Spock smiled against the doctor’s mouth when he kissed the brunet abruptly, “I don’t have time for-”

“Jim is fine, Leonard.” The taller man assured, his fingers pushing up slightly to tangle into messy brown hair. “I require your cooperation though.” There was a bit of fussing that was silenced with another soft kiss, and if it made Spock dizzy, he was definitely not going to say anything about it.

Starting the lift, Spock produced a small black scrap of textile from behind him and carefully situated it over Leonard’s eyes before turning him around to tie it in place. “Don’t understand why y’all couldn’t just come down to sickbay like normal boyfriends would. Have to be dramatic and-” Spock shushed him and wrapped an arm around his lower back before leading him off of the turbolift when it slowed and then ultimately stopped. “Where are we going?”

“‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’” Spock replied with another small, yet subtle laugh.

Leonard snorted, but at least the notion brought a smile to the man’s face. It took a significant amount of restraint not to kiss him again. “You ever going to get tired of quoting Shakespeare at me, Pointy?” Spock’s ears flushed green, as Jim had pointed out earlier, but at least Jim wasn’t there to see, nor was Leonard capable at the moment. The notion required no more response than a few carefully placed touches and brushes of Spock’s fingers against the doctor’s side that had him leaning into the too warm embrace that Spock was always too willing to give (to these men at the very least).

His heart pounded against his ribs, hammering into them with what felt like the intent to shatter them with no success. Leonard was anxious, and still worried that perhaps somehow they had forgotten, but not only forgotten the holiday, had forgotten him. A situation surely to be rectified later in one way or another. Yet, when he opened the doors to the conference room turned observation deck, he was, certainly, surprised. Jim was holding two roses and turned a moment after they came into the room. When he saw that Leonard was blindfolded though, Spock could read the intent on the blond’s face with or without knowing him.

That’s what drew them in together so violently– a hunger. One that was consuming and insatiable and so very irresistible.

Jim stalked across the room and dropped the two flowers off on the set table that he passed and was shortly in front of Leonard, hooking a finger into one of the belt loops on the regulation trousers that he wore. “Someone was up early.” He chided, putting a hand on Leonard’s hip while Spock remained transfixed in the moment. His attention lost on the effort that Jim had put into every detail in the room. Something for all of them from each of them. Spock looked back at Jim and met that crystal blue gaze– if they were off of the Enterprise, he would have been anxious. But this was home.

This was love, and even he couldn’t say no to falling in love with either of these men.

Not in that moment, not ever.

Leonard

Leonard couldn’t help but shiver when Jim’s fingers were working wonders against his skin. Hell, he could have easily forgotten why he had been mad at him in the first place. Then Spock was pressed against his back, undoing the blindfold. Though, leave it to James Tiberius Kirk to keep him from opening his eyes with one of those searing kisses that had him melting from the inside out. Having come in too fast, the kiss was gone too soon. Blinking, Leonard only caught sight of the wall he had decorated that morning. “I see you found my present-” He frowned slightly, leaning to kiss Jim’s cheek. Disheartened, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” The doctor managed, only just starting to turn back towards the turbolift.

Jim stepped back though and let him go but… Tears prickled in the corners of Leonard’s eyes before he could even really register everything around them. God it was perfect. All of it.

The pictures, the maps, the notes. Good God, even the view was perfect. “You little shit.” Leonard muttered, turning to face Jim before wrapping him up in an embrace. He grabbed Spock by the shirt and pulled him closer for good measure, leaning into them heavily.

“I love you both. This is amazing.”

Spock

Spock poured each of them a glass of wine as they neared the finish of their food. Meals were never really chatty for the three of them. There was always something keeping them occupied mentally. The only time they ever really unwound was in those few stolen moments in the morning. This was different. Their gravity took on a life of it’s own. Jim took the time between bites of food to smile and his hand never left Leonard’s while his ankle hooked around Spock’s beneath the table. He leaned forward slightly, listening to the stories that they told of one another, of all of them Most of the time it involved Jim doing something reckless, but really…  Spock wouldn’t have it any other way.

After all those jagged and mismatched ends found one another and made what was something priceless and pure. Drunk on more than just the chocolate and wine, he lost himself in the emotion that settled into the room. There was no name for the easiness of it all; not that Spock knew anyway. Leonard yawned, and Jim suddenly looked as though he was going to fall out of his chair. He shook his head slightly and then Leonard perked up enough. “Think we should head to bed?”

“Of course, ashayam.”

Jim

Their last few minutes were spent haphazardly picking up. Jim loaded the plates into the disposal and Spock collected the pictures while Leonard spent a few more moments looking over the additions that Jim had put up on the opposite wall. Jim smiled fondly, and perhaps a bit drunkenly at Bones so when he turned, Jim felt a blush creep across his cheeks and up his ears as he finished with the dishes. “You’re cute, you know?” Leonard asked suddenly, holding the blond against his chest. Spock was headed for the door already though and Leonard dragged Jim over before ushering the youngest of the trio against the Vulcan. Jim leaned into the warmth of Spock’s body and sighed happily while he kept his fingers laced between Leonard’s as they made their way back to their quarters.

Once inside, there was no rush to get out of clothes or to fall into bed, but there was lots of gentle motions. Fluidly moving against one another as they undressed before Spock was settled on one side of the bed, and Jim the other with Bones giving them the most confused look ever.

“C’mere, Bones. Stop your pouting. We’ve gotta make up for this morning– don’t want you leaving again.”

Leonard

Sleeping together never ended well, but there’s an exception to every rule; tonight was that exception. Jim normally slept in the middle because otherwise he hogged the blankets– damn bastard was always cold no matter what you put him in when it came to actually getting something as necessary as sleep. This also meant that at some point, with a lot of damnable tossing and turning, Jim ended up wrapped around his Vulcan space-heater and Leonard was left scrabbling for anything warmer than space. Maybe they noticed how reluctant he was to go to bed most nights, maybe they didn’t. Not like he would ever say anything to either of them about it. Regardless of how it happened (though he could most certainly recall getting to the middle), there was no place better than tucked up between them. Okay, maybe it was more than just the warmth that Jim liked.

Leonard’s back was pressed up against Spock’s chest and Jim was tucked beneath Leonard’s chin. The oldest and the youngest of the group were asleep and had been for about an hour. Were Leonard able to get off of the delta shift sleep schedule he might have been asleep too, but somehow… this was better. There were arms and legs wrapped around him in every direction. Jim’s fingers were against his cheek while the other hand reached around to Spock’s hip. Then there was a thigh between his and an ankle hooked around another. Spock’s arms were longer though, so one of them was stuck beneath Leonard’s neck while the other pinned Jim against Leonard, which in turn held the doctor closer.

There was nothing that needed to be brought into the moment or taken from it because it was simply perfect.

They had their rough days, and even rougher nights. Leonard had recalled spending several nights on a biobed in the past few months, and even when he didn’t there were definitely times that he woke up for a morning shift and someone was already gone. (Whatever excuse they would come up would be bullshit and they all knew it.) Time would only tell what they would be, but if it meant more Valentine’s Days with these two infants… maybe it was all worth it.

While normally, Leonard wasn’t one for snuggling or cuddling, he did curl a bit closer to each of them, heart pounding in his chest as he let the moment wash over him. It was the best day that they had together in sometime. Even without the sex, so long as they could all fall down like this together at the end of each day, no matter the day, he would be alright with that. So the doctor leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jim’s hair and turned over his shoulder to press a kiss to Spock’s shoulder before whispering…

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”