#there IS a larger discussion to be had about respecting the dead and what that means for different people BUT IT NEVER REACHES ANY KIND OF

[specialagentartemis]

discussing with @ontologicalsynaesthesia as we watched Return of the King: I don’t quite remember how it’s presented in the books, but in the movie, Théoden doesn’t want Éowyn to fight for the normal sexist reasons but also because he tells her that she’s needed back in Rohan, to be a leader to the people who are staying in Rohan while the men ride out to fight. And like… he has a point! That’s a very important job! Théoden the king and Éomer his nephew and now his heir are both riding out to battle in Gondor against a larger and better armed fighting force of Evil; Rohan needs a leader who’s strong, brave, and respected to stay behind with the people, and to take over and rule in the very real possibility that all the Riders of the Mark get slaughtered in battle against the Orcs. And Théoden is recognizing that Éowyn has that capacity! If Gondor falls—and it very likely may have if Aragorn hadn’t managed to recruit the Army of the Dead—Rohan is right next door and the armies of Mordor certainly won’t leave them alone. They’ll need a leader to look to in that case, and if the whole royal family is wiped out, that’s a very bad sign in a world where the Divine Right Of Kings is very real.

Éowyn rides with the army of Rohan into battle at Gondor, of course… but it makes me wonder, who did she leave in charge back in Rohan? Éowyn you are cool and brave and I love you but Éowyn your country! Your people! Who’s left in charge. (I‘m sure Éowyn has more cousins—Théoden had four sisters, one of whom was Éowyn and Éomer’s mother—but Éowyn and Éomer were adopted by Théoden after their parents died and was the main one involved in royal politics and an obvious choice for acting queen)

I totally get Éowyn, living in this culture, wanting to be recognized as a warrior and a rider and to win renown and respect with courage and strength and true-heartedness because that is what’s valued here, and to join the battle for the fate of the world because like it’s also true that if Gondor falls to Mordor what’s Rohan realistically gonna be able to do after that anyway. But also who’s looking after your people Éowyn!!

(anyway now I want a story about Éowyn’s cousin… let’s call her Eadthryd… who hasn’t really been involving herself with family royal politics because Théodred and Éomer and Éowyn were obviously the heirs… who is now left behind to defend and rally the people of Rohan and prepare for the worst if the Riders don’t come back…)

[tinystarryeyes]

Angel Investor - Chapter 2

Word count: 3.6k

Warning: swearing, arguing

It had been 3 months since you started working at Hwaseong. 

Today, you were meeting with Yunho and Yeosang to discuss the possibility of funding two separate ventures - Yunho wanted to build nanotechnology that could fix muscle tears, while Yeosang wanted to improve the design of an existing pacemaker by a competitor. Yunho and Yeosang were accompanied by Mingi and Wooyoung who were using their accounting and marketing skills to persuade you and Seonghwa on which project to fund. 

“Manufacturing the pacemaker takes fewer resources, you should commit to it first. It also gives us an edge over our competitors.”

“Nanotechnology to fix muscle tears can be sold privately to sporting teams, including big league ones. There’s a bigger margin for profit.” 

“But that has larger upfront costs, not to mention the amount we already spent on R&D for it.”

“That’s literally the reason we should go with nanotech. We can make back some of our expenses.” 

“Sunk cost fallacy guys.” 

“But nanotech could supplement your pacemaker project.” 

At this point you had lost track of who was saying what. Your laptop was already dead, and the pen you were holding had fallen out of your hand a long time ago. Seated beside you, Seonghwa didn’t seem to be faring much better, opting to play with the buttons on his sleeves.

“That’s enough, both of you, all of you,” he said sternly, and silence immediately fell over the room. He pushed back his chair and stood up, looking down on the rest of you. “Submit some sort of cost breakdown to y/n by the end of the day, and she will think it over and report to me by the end of the week.”

“End of the day? Why can’t we have the end of the week deadline?” Wooyoung whined. 

“You can, but then I’d be going to that symposium this weekend with nothing to talk about. I know you four have already done your calculations, but y/n likes to do her own numbers, and she’ll be doing it alone, so she gets the week and you don’t.”

As everybody collected their things and walked out of the room to their respective offices, Seonghwa said, “And guys, I don't want a repeat of the time Jongho and y/n faked ongoing research in front of potential investors. I know Han Solo 2.0 over here can bluff her way through anything, but I can’t.” 

Walking beside Seonghwa, you looked up at him and smiled. The event Seonghwa was referring to occurred when you and Jongho attended a convention representing Hwaseong a few weeks ago. When asked a question about ongoing research, you noticed Jongho struggling to explain his research into itty bitty molecules that most people couldn’t pronounce, so you pulled something out of your ass (Star Wars, actually) and spoke about it instead. When Seonghwa heard about this, it just made him love you a little more.

“Her idea of tissue growth was good though,” Yunho said and reached over to high five you.

Wooyoung leaned down and hung off your shoulder. “Yeah, so imagine what would happen if we got her to spin something up on the spot again.”

“We’re willing to research that next if you’ll give us the funding,” Mingi said a little ways behind you.

“Dude there’s no we, you’re an accountant,” Wooyoung looked back and retorted, earning a smack from Yeosang who had been quiet so far.

The group stopped walking when Mingi and you reached your shared office space, a space so shared that you actually had one desk between the two of you, and Mingi had to clear a designated space for you once a week when you came in to work. 

While you started creating that little space for yourself, Seonghwa stuck his head back in to your office.

“Hey y/n? Mingi?”

“Yeah?” Mingi answered. 

“Hongjoong says he left an urgent report for you guys. He’s 10k over budget and wondering if you two can do something.” 

Mingi watched as you picked up the report Seonghwa mentioned, then folded your leg on to your chair to fit into the desk space. Mingi sighed.

“We have to talk to Seonghwa about getting you a proper desk and chair. The way you’re squeezing yourself into that space on some primary school plastic chair Yunho picked up at a garage sale can’t be good for you.”

“It’s just once a week,” you reassured him with a small grunt. 

Mingi hummed, still concerned, but returned his attention to the report, reading over your shoulder. 

“So any ideas for the 10k? Technically we have the cash, right?” You said as you reached for your laptop to pull up the working capital data for Hwaseong.

“Yeah but, if we give him 10k, we won’t be able to fund stage 1 of either Yunho or Yeosang’s projects.”

“That's true, but we just need to cover our costs before the clients pay up and we get profit. We’ll make the money back.” 

“Yeah but these projects have incubation periods, and by the time we finally get the money, Yeosang’s prototype might not be viable, and Yunho’s pricing could change.” 

Mingi then reached for your laptop. You watched him click through the working capital spreadsheet, as he suggested, “We could do a partial update though. Maybe use 3k for the new software but keep the cameras for now. It would mean we’d still have enough money to fund Yunho’s project.”

You raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him. “That seems like a very strange coincidence, Mingi.” 

Mingi ducked his head down with a guilty smile. 

You then glanced upward, doing the calculation in your head and added, “Also, what you said is more expensive.” 

“What? No…”

“Run it. You’ll see.” You nodded to the laptop, which he took back. “If you replace the software first, then do the cameras, you have to reinstall the software. If you do cameras first, software only needs to be added once. I’m guessing you’d lose an extra $4250 with the first method.”

Mingi inputted the necessary numbers for your prediction, and his mouth dropped open when he saw the final figure come very close to your original prediction. “The odds you calculated that in your head…”

You smirked and did an exaggerated hair flip. “That’s right big guy. Never tell me the odds.”

Mingi ran a hand through his hair and picked up Hongjoong’s report again. “I’m gonna read it again and try find a clue.” 

You nodded and just stared at the ceiling, letting your thoughts run around and evaluate Hwaseong's options. Hongjoong’s report already said he went through the database of government grants and didn’t qualify for any. Seonghwa knew of the budget issue, so he would already be trying to find private investors while you and Mingi worked. You also knew Hongjoong’s project shouldn’t be allowed to cannibalise two other projects. 

As the logical and orthodox ideas ran out, something else came to you. “Oh my god, Mings, you know what does get you 10k?”

“What?”

“Selling a car. Don’t most of us drive simple cars anyways? We could sell a car, then get a new one with the profit.” 

You didn’t allow the very confused Mingi to reply before you jumped out of your seat and headed for the door. “I hope Hongjoong is free, I gotta go see if he knows anyone that can sell a car.”

You found Hongjoong locked away in one of the labs, as usual. Today, he was bent over some Petri dishes, and didn’t look up as you walked in.

Still he spared you a greeting. “How was my report, y/n? Can we make it work?”

You stood nearby while still giving Hongjoong a wide berth since you didn’t have any lab safety equipment on. “Well that really depends on whether you know someone with a car.”

If Hongjoong was surprised or confused, he didn’t show it. “Why? Do you need to borrow it?” 

“Uhh not quite,” you replied, playing with your hands nervously. “It’s more like you could sell it, just temporarily.” 

“And why would I sell my car?” He asked without turning away from his experiment.

“Because Mingi and I can't give you 10k without cannibalisation.”

Now Hongjoong turned to look at you, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. “You’re telling the only way to update a series of imaging devices we already supplied to some hospitals is to sell my car?” He was obviously unimpressed.

“Look I know it’s weird, and like it doesn’t have to be a car, it just needs to be something that will get us 10k.”

Hongjoong sighed. “You were an intern at one of the biggest firms in the country and this is the solution you come up with.” 

You winced at his words. Yeah, this was definitely a let down on your part. Trying to salvage the situation, you said, “I can see if Mingi can move some money around, reduce other expenses or something?” 

It was an obviously empty promise. Hongjoong could see that from the way you were refusing to meet his gaze. He knew you wouldn’t actually be able to do any of that. Smiling with understanding, he said, “It’s okay, I kind of know you already tried that. But unfortunately, I use Seonghwa’s car, so you’ll have to talk to him.”

Well fuck. That didn’t go as planned. As you took the stairs back up from the laboratories to the offices, your phone buzzed with a message from Seonghwa: hey y/n, do you have a minute? Could you come to my office if you’re free?

You knew it was probably about Hongjoong’s proposal, so you grabbed the report from your desk then trudged to Seonghwa’s office. It was a simple, clean space, with Seonghwa doing the cleaning himself. He looked up from his work with a smile when you walked through the door.

“Hey, come sit down.” He gestured at a simple plastic chair in front of his desk. “Hongjoong said you had some ideas about his proposal?”

“Uh yeah, it’s not really something I like but um…” you trailed off.

“Y/n, you know we’re relaxed here, just spit it out,” Seonghwa said and leaned his chin on his palm. “But if you’re struggling to get the words out, I can’t imagine it’s good news.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s not.” You sighed and continued. “His project is 10k over budget. Mingi can’t give us anything without sacrificing the perfect 3 million we have in our account for either Yunho or Yeosang. So to find our 10, the options I had were selling a car or seeking out private funding through some contract.”

“Interesting.” Seonghwa leaned back in his chair. “But there’s one thing that makes no sense. Why did the idea of selling a car come to you first? Wouldn’t the first response be to suggest issuing shares?”

You cocked your head, studying him. “Have you been reading up on finance or something?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I am a CEO, I have to know these things.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. He had a valid reason.

You then answered his earlier question. “You’re right, issuing shares is the most logical thing to do, but I didn’t suggest it because it risks your position as majority shareholder.” 

Seonghwa smirked and folded his arms, biceps bulging slightly. Your eyes flickered to his arms, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You’re good, real good,” he said, dragging his words.

You leaned forward on your chair, balancing your elbows on your knees, and said, “I know.”

“That’s what Han said,” Seonghwa quipped as he scanned over your face, which had a smirk to match his own. He took in the confidence and self assurance that radiated from you. He knew that you knew you were correct. 

“So you want me to sell my car then.” 

“No, I just need you to sell something that gets us money, on the off chance…” you paused for effect, “…you don’t find a private investor.”

Seonghwa sighed and hung his head. “Y/n, do you know how many possible investors I’ve had to meet this week?” 

You shook your head.

“18. That’s 18 coffee shops, 18 pointless handshakes and sweet smiles, only to get 18 no’s.” Seonghwa huffed. “What I mean is, you’re right, we should sell my car.”

You scooted your chair closer so you could place your elbows on his desk. “No, Seonghwa, you can’t just… it’s your car and it’s important to you. We can figure something else out, maybe I could go talk to investors, hit up some private equity people, don’t worry, I will keep thinking about it.” 

“There’s no time. It’s either we do the update at the hospital or lose the contract. Plus, the company comes first,” Seonghwa said. He reached into his pocket to fish for his keys and chuck them on the table. “There you go. Let’s sell the car.”

“But Seonghwa…” 

For Seonghwa, his frustration was growing. He knew the deadline for fulfilling the contract was approaching. 

“Y/n, stop fucking stalling and sell the goddamn car.”

Your eyes widened at Seonghwa’s harsh words. You had never seen the composed and almost ethereal man speak like that. 

While you sat there stunned, Seonghwa scrunched his eyes and squeezed his temples with one hand, realising his mistake. “Oh god. God, I am so sorry y/n. I should not have spoken to you like that. 

“No, its uh, fine Seonghwa, I get it.” Your words weren’t sincere, they were practiced filler words to say during an argument and Seonghwa knew that. 

“Please, I am sorry. I refuse to be the CEO who treats my employees like that. I am really sorry y/n, I can’t say that enough.” 

You maintained a trained diplomatic tone, stare fixed ahead, hands folded in your lap. “It’s alright Seonghwa, it’s the end of the week and we’re all high strung, these things happen.”

Seonghwa shook his head. He hated that robotic tone, the way you sat so rigidly. You were closing off from him. “No, it’s not alright. I have to make sure this doesn’t set a bad example. Will you let me make it up to you? Maybe a bonus? Or extra vacation?” 

You took in his earnest eyes, and pursed your lips unsurely. “Uhhh, those are nice incentives, and I do appreciate them but…” 

“But what? You don’t like them?”

“No, it’s not that.” You looked to the ceiling and bit your lip. “It’s just that you definitely can’t afford it.” 

Now it was Seonghwa’s turn to sit there stunned. “What do you mean I can’t afford it?” 

“Let’s see…” you started counting the reasons on your hand, holding it up for Seonghwa to see, and his expression only grew gloomier after each reason. 

“You’re selling your car to fund a new project, you’ve got more project proposals than you have money, you’ve got an office that was put together using garage sale furniture, you’ve had 15 potential investors turn you down…”

“18,” he corrected.

You raised your eyebrows, challengingly. “My point still stands. Would you like me to continue?” 

Seonghwa pursed his lips. “No, please don’t, you’ve made your point.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “It’s late, I am sorry for keeping you here like this. And once again I am sorry for going off like that.” He pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up. 

You did the same. “I’ll see you next week Seonghwa.”

The next week, you found a buyer willing to pay a whopping $15,000 for Seonghwa’s car, and practically sprinted to his office to tell him. 

Jongho, who was already inside with Seonghwa, listened as you leaned in through the doorway and explained your breakthrough. 

“Somehow, that doesn’t seem plausible. Who pays 15k for a car like that? No offence hyung,” Jongho said after listening. 

“Funny, you said the same thing about that tissue regeneration gimmick a few months ago,” you retorted. 

“Tissue regeneration can actually be done, it is actually being done in some parts of the world.”

You pouted and returned, “Overpaying for a car can actually be done, it is actually being done in some parts of the world.”

Seonghwa looked between you and Jongho, and silently laughed behind his hand.

Jongho made a face at you and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, by tourists in South America probably.”

Seonghwa asked the same question as he drove you two to meet the buyer on the weekend.

You explained proudly. “I put a high asking price then said it’s negotiable after listing all the specifications in the description. Then I just had to wait for a car nerd to approach me. I just had to make them think they were getting a good deal even if they weren’t.”

Seonghwa chuckled and shook his head. “You’re so Han Solo coded sometimes, you know that?” 

You gave him a sidelong glance.

Seonghwa kept his eyes on the road as he explained. “Aside from how you’re always telling people to not tell you the odds, only someone like Han Solo would make up a story about promising research at a conference, or try to upsell a shitty car to a car nerd.” 

“You’re not still going on about that are you? I never specifically called it promising research,” you said with air quotes, then added, “Also, Jongho had plenty of opportunities to stop me or correct me.” 

“Literally none of that makes you any less like Han Solo. Going back on your word, making your sidekick into a scapegoat…” he listed, nodding his head back and forth with each reason. 

“You make it sound like I did a bad thing. I am beginning to wonder if you even like Han Solo,” you said with an exaggerated pout that Seonghwa thought was adorable. In a different situation, he would have booped your lower lip. 

After having gone home with the $15, 000, Seonghwa now took public transport to work. He arrived at the same time as you today, and you two took walked to the offices together.

“Seonghwa I want to talk to you about something.”

“Hmm, yeah? What’s up?” 

“I am graduating in a few months…” 

You left your words hanging, hoping Seonghwa understood the implication, but it had the opposite effect. His fingers clenched nervously as he suddenly wondered, were you going to leave Hwaseong? 

“…So I want to change my hours here. I want to work full time at Hwaseong,” 

“Oh.” Tension he wasn’t he aware he felt left his body. “Oh um that’s a surprise to hear.”

“Why? You didn’t want to hire me full time after graduation?” 

Seonghwa shook his head. “No y/n, believe me there is nothing I would love more than to have you full time. You’re great at what you do, I’d be stupid to lose you. It’s just that I didn’t think you wanted to.” 

“Oh Seonghwa, don’t tell me you went to all that trouble of looking me up on LinkedIn and personally messaging me with a job offer 6 months ago simply because you were looking for some part time help?” You quipped. 

You two walked past Yeosang’s office and saw his eyes following the two of you. 

“God, did you have to say that in front of Yeosang? He definitely heard you,” Seonghwa hissed once you two passed Yeosang.

You shrugged. “I think he already knew about that thanks to San.”

A few months later, half of Hwaseong attended your graduation ceremony. 

Mingi said his congratulations first, wrapping you into a tight hug. “You did it girlie, time to join us in the corporate grind.” 

“You only say that because you’re an accountant,” Hongjoong said from somewhere behind Mingi. Instead of a hug, he offered you a gift wrapped box. 

You moved your diploma to one hand to accept it. You shook it gently, and noticed it was very light. “What’s this?”

“It’s a thank you for fixing my little hospital problem. And I guess also a congratulations for graduating.” 

You smiled and tucked the gift under your arm.

San approached you next. “Good on ya, y/n,” he said with a hearty pat on the back. He then turned to look back at Seonghwa and said, “Hyung’s got something for you.” 

The three men moved to stand to the side so Seonghwa could approach you. “I have a gift for you, and it’s something you asked for,” he said as he reached into the inner pocket of his blazer. 

You gave everyone a questioning look. “I don’t remember asking for a graduation gift?” 

The men exchanged knowing glances while Seonghwa handed you a manila envelope. “Open it, I think you’ll like it.”

You looked back and forth between the envelope and your team. “Guys… what is this?” 

“Please open it, we worked very hard on it,” Mingi said, looking down at your with pleading eyes. 

So after giving one more vaguely suspicious look towards the four men, you opened the folder. Inside was a document with Hwaseong’s logo and the heading: Contract of Employment.

You skimmed through it quickly. “Is this for me?”

You didn't look up from the paper, but heard Seonghwa answering. “I hope it has everything you asked for that, but as always, you can discuss it with us.” 

Having finished reading, you folded the manila envelope up, holding it close to your chest beside your diploma. You looked directly at Seonghwa. 

“You’re actually hiring me full time?” 

The excitement shone in your eyes as you grinned. Seonghwa realised he liked that smile on you. 

“Of course I am y/n. I would be a fool to let someone else have you.”

[eumetopia]

The Administrator and the Desire for Control

I've been talking about my interpretation of the Administrator and her background a bit more with my girlfriend (hi honey if you're reading this 🫶), which led to me wanting to make a larger, more concise post detailing my thoughts. I'll admit, I've never really put my thoughts out there in this manner when it wasn't just me rambling, I mostly keep my analysis to my Discord perverts. Nevertheless I hope this makes sense or is at least legible.

As a quick heads up I'll be mentioning some unsavory topics, primarily canon-typical death, suicide, and misogyny, as well as CSA. None are discussed graphically and are mostly just mentioned (or in the case of CSA, it's more the effects of it are what's addressed and not the event/concept itself), but it's better to be safe than sorry. I'll also mention that this isn't me trying to excuse any of her actions, I just like looking at her story as one might look at a petri dish with a microscope.

To start off, I do want to clarify that yes, I do understand the canonical reason for Admin's hatred of Zepheniah Mann is implied to be the death of her parents. However, I do think two things can be true at once, and I think the death of her parents could also serve as a metaphorical loss of childhood. To be a child is kind of the ultimate form of subordination; that subordination is primarily under one's parents, at least as far as Western models of the nuclear family are concerned. It's to have restricted, if any, control over your general state of being, but it is also to be protected. To (ideally) be safe and enjoy childhood. So when the Administrator's parents are murdered, it's as if to say that she has no control over her own safety, that she doesn't hold that power, especially not over a dangerous adult (and more Specifically a dangerous man, which is important in the context of Zepheniah's misogyny).

Additionally, victims in childhood aren't always believed by their parents when recounting their experiences, especially not if the perpetrator is someone that the adults around them trust. To my knowledge we don't know what the motivations for Zepheniah killing Admin's parents might be (not that it matters, they're still dead, after all), but given the substantial wealth of the Mann family, we can assume that he was treated with great respect or at least a fearful reverence. So if little Admin were to tell anyone what happened, it's unlikely that she would be believed, which is an awfully familiar sentiment.

Now, to go back and address Zepheniah's misogyny. Aside from the obvious signaling of a brooding patriarch Literally Having The Last Name Mann, you need look no further than the comic to see exactly what I mean when I address this.

(Blood Brothers, pgs. 17 & 21; The Days Have Worn Away, pg. 130)

It's definitely done with the intent to show him as a callous asshole, but it's so obvious within the text that Zepheniah does not see the women in his life as worthy of respect. He treats his wife's pain and eventual death in childbirth as a minor annoyance (calling it only a "small mercy" that she stopped screaming, even though that was because she died), and outright says the only thing she ever did right in his eyes was give him three sons— I have to wonder, then, if he would've had the same reaction if any (or all) of them had been daughters. And it's not lost on me that we only learn the late Bette Mann's name from Barnabus Hale and not Zepheniah himself; that paired with him flagrantly stating that he doesn't care to learn Admin's name (as well as him generally being an asshole to the midwife/maid) suggests to me that he doesn't see women as people, or at the very least not on the same level of humanity as men.

At the end of his life, we can see that he has at least learned Elizabeth's name and come to respect her enough to put her in his will, but to suggest that he sees her as an equal, even as he quite literally Owns her by right of her occupation as governess and maidservant, is quite laughable, at least to me. With sons like Redmond and Blutarch, it's likely that Admin was the only person he reasonably could give it to, because a man like Zepheniah wasn't going to give it to the same person he was giving his company to, and he certainly wasn't going to give it to charity.

Power, control, and subordination are the main facets of Admin's dynamic with Zepheniah, but more broadly they extend into every aspect of her character. The excessively militant manner in which TF Industries conducts itself and the fear that she commands is testimony enough to this, she has an intense desire for control and it would appear that she has quite a lot of it; over people (predominantly men, but of her closer circles we see her exhibit this over Miss Pauling the most), over money, and even over life and death. She goes to great measures to ensure that she has control over the people around her, but especially over herself.

(The Administrator, Gift Abuse: The Gift That Keeps on Abusing, Team Fortress 2 Blog, November 2, 2011)

My favorite example of the Administrator's all-encompassing need for control has to be the gift abuse blog post; not just because I love pigeons, but because of the implication that she only lets herself have an hour of free time in the whole year away from work, at least outside of her need for sleep and other human necessities. Admin stands at the top of the food web. There is no one for her to answer to, no one imposing this rule except for herself, so why confine herself to such a tight schedule? We can easily explain the draconic nature of Miss Pauling's schedule only having one free day in the year. It's easy enough to wave one's hand and say 'oh, well that's because the Administrator is such a tyrant', but why do it to herself?

My own personal take on this is that Admin does not like to be left alone with her thoughts. In the aftermath of Zepheniah's death the first time around, she at first relishes in the opulence that his inheritance provides for her, but over time grows unsatisfied with her life. The motions a rich lady with no family of her own must go though, especially in that time period, are not enough to simulate her mind. And, left alone in the big, empty house that had once belonged to the man who ruined her life, sleeping in his very bed as she uses up his money now that he's gone... it's not quite the satisfying ending she had hoped for.

(The Days Have Worn Away, pgs. 152 & 166)

Once again, he ultimately is the one who has control over her life. Even as she hangs a painting of herself prevailing over him (specifically one that positions Zepheniah as Satan), he still watches her sleep. His headstone rests on the wardrobe opposite of the bed. In this way, he still owns her, because even if she got what she wanted, he's still all she thinks about. Is it enough that he's dead? Does this really solve what he did to my parents, what he did to me? Am I happy with this?

Ultimately, I think this is why she killed herself before Gray Mann brought her back. Even if she got to relish in the catharsis of revenge, Admin never actually moved on after the fact. She could not live "for herself" in the house of the man that took everything from her, even if he gave its worth back to her in money. Even with Zephaniah gone, she still isn't in control. But if she dies in that house, takes the knife upon herself, then at least she had control over that one thing. In death, in suicide, no one could deny her that.

Except for her subsequent resurrection, again against her own will. Need I remind you, Gray Mann find her before she was dead, watched her hang herself and then still brought her back. But in doing so he offered her more control, more power. An offer someone like the Administrator, who had been fighting in vain for control for her entire life, could not pass up.

The constant grasp for control that the Administrator makes throughout her life is one that really resonates with me, particularly because of the reading of her as a survivor of CSA. Childhood is already a time of resentment for the lack of control you have over yourself, over your circumstances, which rings exponentially more true for Admin, a little girl born in what I assume is the late 1780s/90s (given that the Mann twins were born in 1822). And even more so, to have what little autonomy and control you do have violated by such aggressive means, often before you're able to fully understand what's happening yourself, only worsens the feeling of resentment towards your own helplessness, and even as an adult it really doesn't leave you. This is doubly true if you have no support system in the aftermath, because you have a much harder time healing when you have to do it alone, and it's ironically much harder to wrestle control of yourself without anyone else. Admin says it herself, albeit in much vaguer terms.

(The Naked and the Dead, pg. 271)

The perpetuated lifespans of both Zepheniah and herself, along with all other tyrannical measures of surveillance and exertions of power over the lives of others, are merely Admin scratching at the door of control, waiting to be let in. A person who really feels that they're in control of their own life does not need to do these things. The Admin clings to the power she has over others in a professional setting, even to the point of imposing impossible deadlines and expectations onto herself, because the version of herself whose family was murdered and had her whole personhood stripped from her never got it back. Baby Elizabeth (or whatever name she was christened with) was never fully assured that it would be okay after everything that happened to her. So as an adult, as Helen, as the Administrator, that control has become everything. She cannot even envision a world where she doesn't die on her own terms.

This is quite long, and probably incoherent at parts, but I hope that on the whole it still made sense. I injected a lot of my personal experiences into this reading, mostly because a lot of her storyline really stuck with me as someone who still wrestles with that loss of autonomy and scramble for control that follows abuse, so I understand if this reading doesn't make sense to some who read it. But if you read it at all I am eternally grateful 🫶

[jodiesjamiez]

I saw a debate between you and my friend about Grace. What I understood is that Grace is a saint girl to lead Tommy good side, and that's the reason she needed to be killed. It seems you want to believe SHE IS 100% GOOD GIRL WHO CANNOT ADJUST HERSELF TO BE IN SHELBY FAMILY.

Also, personally I thought you deny Grace is the woman Tommy truly loved refering to your post wrote about Greta Jurossi. Well, that was interesting. I don't deny Greta was the only first true love in Tommy's life. No one cannot hold the title except Greta.

I hope all of this article is my misunderstanding. Thank you.

Hi there,

I really enjoyed discussing this with your friend and thank you for sharing your thoughts.

I always appreciate hearing different perspectives, especially on a show as layered as Peaky Blinders. That said, I want to be honest and say that your message came across as quite accusatory and confrontational, even if that wasn’t your intent.

My intention in any of these discussions is never to argue about who's "right" or to attack anyone's interpretation. I enjoy exploring character dynamics and contradictions within the plot.

Now to my response,

I don’t think Grace is a good person—and I’m not sure where you interpreted that from my posts.

I don’t mean that as an insult, I actually find it compelling. She kills people. She lies. She enters Tommy’s life already operating in the same morally grey world. That’s why they connected so deeply in that Garrison scene—because they met in that same dark place. That whole “now you’ve seen me” scene… I personally didn’t see it as just romance, it was trauma bonding, mutual understanding that Tommy needed to really get closer to her (and forward the plot).

And look, she’s dead. I didn’t ever say she deserved it just that it happened and it clearly served Steven Knight’s larger purpose about grief, ambition, and the cost of power. My original point was never about rewriting that reality—it was about interpreting what it meant. She became symbolic in her death, and sure I said Tommy romanticizes her as perfect, but I don’t say that to erase who she actually was or how she operated when she was alive. He loved her anyway. We all know this.

…And on her not being able to adjust to the family: Polly would never have accepted her. Period. Grace lied to them, betrayed them, and put the whole family at risk. Polly’s judgment is final, and once you’re out, you’re out. Grace might’ve had Tommy’s heart, but she’d never truly have a place at that table. I feel like it would become a Micheal / Tommy conflict but Grace / Polly if she lived you know? Tommy relied on Polly’s judgment and opinions a lot. Grace would want to take that place of advisor as his wife.

I’m not going to reply on the point about Greta because I'm not sure what you mean. You might want to go back to the last paragraph of that post because that is what it was about. The timeline of Tommy’s tragedy. I made a post about Greta to explore how different types of love have shaped Tommy as I rarely see discussions about her as she plays a minor role but is still significant to Tommy’s journey. These characters all represent something different, and that’s what makes discussing them so compelling.

I really don’t like to argue but I love to share ideas so please conduct yourself respectfully. Ideas are not inherently ‘bad’ or ‘good’.

And just to clarify, your friend actually contacted me first, replying to a post I made about Lizzie and how I wished she and Tommy had communicated more. From there, we had a thoughtful exchange about Grace, the show's themes, and Tommy’s emotional arc. It was a good discussion and I really appreciate the way it was handled.

If anything was misunderstood, I’m more than happy to clarify. I just hope we can keep the conversation respectful and open to different points of view.

[ambers-archive]

who am i, darling to you? (iv)

loss of my life

Bookmarked on page fifteen, the last page of chapter three, the closed book in your hands stand still against your heavy heart. You were waiting to read chapter four together with her. The story of Rapunzel was your favorite princess story. One of a long lost princess with beautiful long hair who fought to live the life she wanted. And she was able to fall in love in the midst of it all. 

It was a staple bedtime story; you went to sleep hanging onto the words.

Sometimes when you see your mom in your dreams; you can hear her sweet voice reading you the stories, and you can feel her gentle kisses even now. A beautiful yet haunting reminder of her. 

You never got to read chapter four, and you haven't been able to move the handmade bookmark since your mom stopped on chapter three seventeen years ago. It's her birthday today, seventeen years of missed laughter, hugs, and love. Maybe it would have been bearable if you had someone to share the burden with, someone who knew her just as intensely.

But the only two other people were dead along with her.

"Alright, let's go over our story one more time," Hotch says, his voice low as he walks into your honeymoon suite.

It had been a few days since you two checked in, it was a beautiful suite overlooking the sea. You loved the sea and the feeling of sand between your toes, but just like many of the things you loved - it was just out of your grasp.

You were spending the days discussing specifics of stories, anniversaries, birthdays, and first kisses. All set to disappear into an imagined world and meet him in a love story that was not yours. You two weren't hopelessly in love on your honeymoon, and Maya wasn't you. That story was only saved for last, hidden deep within your heart under-heading the section labeled grief. 

Because where else can one store unspent love. 

You've never even held him, but your feelings for Hotch are nothing short of love. You've never held him, and yet you have memorized every dimple, freckle, and crease by his eyes.

He has never touched you, and yet has touched every fiber of your being. 

And so many sleepless you stayed up, next to him, feeling his heartbeat you wondered what it would be like to press yourself against his larger body. To tuck yourself underneath his arm and lay your head against chest as if you belonged there all along. 

You resisted of course. 

“We met at one of the galleries I was showing; you bought all of my paintings and asked me out to dinner later that night,” You respond quietly, your hand still ghosting over the peeking bookmark. Feeling the lines of the book's spine, it was a small but thick paperback book. Not worth much, but to you, it was priceless, one of your most prized possessions.

You manage to catch the last of his question, all your focus on your self-inflicted sorrow. "Ages?"

"Um," You start, trying to piece the story together; it's buried somewhere deep in your head, this past week has just been so hard. You always visit your mom on her birthday, but now you know it won't be possible.

Your pain was always such an imposition.

"If we're going to do this, I need your undivided attention,” Hotch’s voice breaks through your head. You turn to face him, his eyes focused on the case file, not even sparing you a glance.

"Sorry, sir. It’s just a lot to think about.”

“I told you it would be. If you’re not ready for this, Agent.” You wish he would stop calling you Agent, it's an unnecessary boundary he's creating to distance himself from you. 

“I am,” You cut through his words, swallowing the dryness forming in your throat. "Of course, I am." You repeat back, standing up straighter this time, trying not to let the indifference in his words bother you.

He passes you his notes, filled with Maya and James's life. Their story, their family. They're respectively twenty-six and forty, so a little off here and there. James has a big family that Maya is able to fall into, two brothers and a sister. No kids yet, they're just enjoying life with the two of them.

It would be perfect if it was yours to truly live in.

Perfect, just not yours. Always yours to love, but never to keep.

"This case is one of the most important the team has had in a long time. Everyone is counting on us; memorize the notes. We should take this opportunity to meet other couples tonight at the welcome dinner." He pauses for a second, surveying and noticing the book in your hands. You defensively put the book away, shielding your memories from his judgmental eyes, ripping yourself away from any judgment, away from a job that punishes you for caring.

"I can't do my job successfully if I'm always watching over my shoulder, babysitting a capable agent," he says, as he walks out of the room, selfishly avoiding your eyes so he can shield himself from the pain he's inflicted. The door shuts quietly, but no thoughts seem to take over, and you suddenly feel small. Like a child who's been abandoned, left alone, and to fend for herself.

༺༻

You sit there, staring at the closed door, trying to steady your breathing. The silence in the room grows louder, as if it were taunting you, reminding you of your isolation. You clutch the book tighter, as if it could anchor you to some semblance of stability.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. Time blurs as your mind drifts between memories of your mother and the pressing reality of the case. The sun slowly sets, casting long shadows across the room. 

And you wish you could just sit there and wallow in your misery but the reality of the case pulls you out, your feelings will just have to wait. 

As the orange from the evening sky peaks through the curtains, you hear the door open again. Hotch steps back into the room, his expression softer yet determined. "Strauss wanted to have a conference call with the director. She thinks the welcome dinner is a good approach."

You look up from the case notes, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. "When should we start heading there?" 

"In about an hour, we should get there early to take in the environment. The Unsub could be anyone." You nod as he finishes the last of his sentence, the tension is still there letting you loose only to suffocate you once again. 

"Just give me a few minutes to shower." You say not meeting his eyes.

Making your way to the shared bathroom you let the warm shower engulf you. Wishing to wash away your insecurities and the weight of the day. You close your eyes and visualize the tension fading with every drop of water, but it doesn't last nearly as long as you would like it to. Reluctantly, you walk out of the shower as your obligations drag you back.

Thinking of these small things makes you believe she is an actual person, not just someone you and the team invented. The details bring her to life, giving her a heartbeat within your imagination.

You rarely had time to dress up since work took most of your time and energy. You take the time to do your hair and for a second you get to engage in something fun, a constant which was sperate from the rest of the world. Reaching instinctively to play with your bracelet, you sigh.

It was an evil eye bracelet, or as your family called it, nazar. It was a gift from your Nani (grandmother); she said it would keep you safe from everything evil. You smile to yourself, thinking about her words and the warmth they still bring you.

If only there was someone else who loved you just as much now.

Hotch's knock on your bathroom door pulls you out of your trance, "Just a second!" You say adjusting your dress. 

Taking one more look in the mirror, you open the door, surprised by how good he looks. He always wore suits, but before you stands a man in a dark gray shirt, tucked into his trousers, his usually neat hair now slightly tousled, framing his face.

You smile at him, for a second forgetting that you're upset at him.

"I didn't know you had curly hair," he says, looking at you with a small smile on his lips. You mirror him briefly, putting on your earrings.

"It's hard to maintain, especially at work, so I just straighten it a lot." You had your hair moved to the side; you can't remember the last time he had looked at you for so long.

"It suits you."

"I get it from my mom. Everyone told me I look like my dad growing up, but the one thing I got from her is the hair," you say, looking for your shoes. Hotch is standing behind you, hands in his pockets.

"You don't talk about them much," he says, his tone softer now, more curious than probing.

"Once I start, I can't stop."

"I was the same way with Haley, especially around Jack. But there are people who care about you here, including me." You don't know when he came so close to you, his face now merely inches away, his presence suddenly more comforting than intimidating.

Suddenly, your perfectly guarded emotions come undone. "I have so many memories of her; it's an overflow sometimes."

"Then let's start small. What is your favorite memory?"

You let out a small smile, walking towards the dresser and pulling out the book to show him.

"Rapunzel?" he asks with amusement. "I didn't know you liked fairytales."

"My mother did. She used to read me a ton of them, but this one was my favorite."

Recognition flashes in his eyes as if he suddenly remembers something. "I'm sorry, it's not hard when people we love leave." He knows grief better than most people. Although you weren't there when Beth died, you can still see remnants of who he used to be underneath.

A man torn between the love for his wife and duty.

"I think you're wonderful despite everything you've gone through. I know it's easy to feel responsible for what happened, but it wasn't your fault," you say softly, still holding onto your book.

Hotch nods, taking his hands out of his pockets and resting them on your shoulders. It's hesitant, as if he's unsure, but you don't mind.

"I was mad at them for coming home so late," you whisper, meeting his eyes.

"My dad promised to watch a new movie with me. I waited by the door all night. But they never came. Today is her birthday, and I'm missing it."

"This is why you always take this week off?" He asks.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the book. "I always visit her grave, and since they're buried together, I visit my dad's too."

Before you can take in what's happening, Hotch lets his hands fall from your shoulders with a look of determination. And before you can ask him about the welcome dinner he starts walking towards his keys. 

"Tell me where."

"W-What about the dinner?" You ask barely able to register the man in front of you. 

"We will have other opportunities. Right now, you should be with your mom on her birthday. I spent too long letting this job keep me from the people I love. I can't see it happen to you."

"It's all the way back home."

"That's alright. I can probably call in some favors and have the jet get us there in a few hours," he says earnestly.

You look at him, taken aback by his determination. "Are you sure? What about Strauss?" 

Hotch nods opening the door for you. "You're honoring your mother. I'll explain the situation, don't worry about her." 

How could someone not fall in love with him?

taglist: @zaddyhotch @mrs-ssa-hotch

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

So... Can we talk about Zheng Yi Sao please?

I absolutely adored her and she was so much fun (and love the polycule) but I am absolutely failing to see what her role in the larger narrative was.

She unites the pirates only for everyone to get blown and the pirate republic destroyed in one stroke? Because the woman who conquered China is stupid enough to trust a"gifts" British Navy minor prince whom she is blackmailing?

She is basically Stede's more competent side kick for the rest of the episode?

Another one I'm sure will be a controversial opinion! I'd love to hear what y'all think, don't be afraid to leave a comment below.

Funnily enough, my 2 remaining asks are both wanting to discuss Zheng Yi Sao (and to a lesser extent, Archie) as how both of these characters were meant to impact this story and/or failed to do so! Given that the writers looked at the limited amount of time they had and decided to write BRAND NEW characters instead of further developing the people we already liked.

I will be combining the asks, as the other person was anonymous but they spoke more to how Archie and Zheng didn't add much that was new to the story. If that anon would like me to still post their thoughts, let me know!!

First: Archie

I hate to say it, but for the most part, she feels like the response to the common criticism that S1 didn't have any leading women.

Which, yes. Is absolutely valid. This is where I feel we can sit with Archie. She's fun, and hot, and has the same Violent energy Jim had in S1. But by the time episode 8 rolls around, what is she? We know almost nothing about her, to this day. She was in a snake cult...um. She can fight, and is Jim's arm candy? Beyond that, it feels a bit hollow. Especially as Archie enters a relationship with Jim before we as the audience know Jim and Olu are in an open relationship. Yes. Jim thought Olu was dead, but I didn't really like Jim joking about Archie's tits when bringing up the fact they were dating Archie as well now.

NOW-

Onto Zheng Yi Sao! (and to a lesser extent Auntie)

Zheng had 2 rolls to fill this season, character and narriative. Her character roll was-

1.) To be an Ed mirror. She's a badass with a record, a Navy at her back, and yet we can't make her a badass without giving her the same romantic arc as Edward fucking Teach. Seriously. I was bored watching her scenes as soon as it was obvious Olu liked her. Because I could put the pieces together.

Auntie is Izzy trying to hold the legend together, Oluwande is Stede a stranger to this brand of piracy, and Zheng is Ed 1-1 from S1ep4. Congrats welcome back to Season 1, but this time faster, and with a more interesting side interrupting it every other scene.

Zheng is open to new experiences, letting herself be soft, when it comes to her new boy toy. Cool. We're repeating story beats, which I don't love... But then she gets defeated by Olu distracting her and leaving her behind mirroring Ed in ep 10. Stede and Ed's romance is condensed into 3 ish episodes. When we see her again, her arc isn't focused on her conquering the sea. Not really. It's more on how she really misses Olu. For a badass pirate we enjoy watching, I cared more about her slipping into good graces with the pirates of the Republic than her missing her 'quiet part of the day'.

The story also felt a need to parallel the mentor relationship of Zheng and Auntie, with Ed and Izzy. A thing that for the most part I don't agree with. Zheng respects and mourns Auntie in a way Ed doesn't to Izzy. Rewatch S1, does Izzy EVER change Ed's mind? Or does Ed talk down to him like he's a pesky mosquito in his ear. Ignoring him and trying to show off to Stede.

Zheng's personal arc repeats that of a character we had a lot more time with. I wish they just stuck to the cool strategy shit with her. Ironically she's a strong character because she can fight and because she cares about Olu. Which...ew. Just make her a threat, y'all. That's all you had to do.

BUT I FELL IN LOVE WITH HER IN EPISODE 7/8. OMG.

I went from being all right with her and Olu's story to seeing her as her own person. Someone who is very overwhelmed and competent. I also love her actress, so that always helps. It just sucks that she starts to have her own things going on at the very end of the story. Again, we get the Ed parallel of her throwing herself into a suicide mission after Auntie dies, but it doesn't FEEL like a direct mirror the way the romance obviously was.

She was always going to be a plot device, just like everyone else this season because-

2.) She's the reason Stede goes from being stranded on land back on the Revenge. This is the OVERALL reason she was needed here. I wish they handled this differently. I've seen some say the reason she didn't see Ricky as a threat is because the 'point' of Ricky was that you shouldn't underestimate people. But given how she treated Stede's crew like criminals awaiting trial (besides Olu), I fail to see how she would 'underestimate' the people whose claim she was trying to take over. All the characters of this season exist to push the plot forward, even if it doesn't align with how they should behave.

Given that yes. England had a STRONG foothold in the colony of a colony called 'Carolina' at this time(Florida and Georgia were held by the Spanish until the Spanish-American war), the English Navy specifically could send enough troops to push her out in around 2 months. Or hell. Maybe they'd team up with the Spanish and finally clear out the republic.

Zheng needed all the pirates in the area to match the power of their army, and at this point, she didn't have that yet. So why was she so cocky? (Oh. This show ignores history, right.)

[Fanfic concept of an alternate story for this season where Zheng isn't just another love interest that wasn't properly built up]

Personally, if I knew my budget was slashed, I'd save money by cutting unnecessary sets and using the actors I have VERY wisely. So. REWRITE TIME. In episode 1 Stede struggles to make ends meet. ACTUALLY struggling not comedic struggling. Working all hours of the day, not seeing an end in sight, the crew not wanting to go back and find Ed. Hell, some of the crew threatened to leave and get on new ships. The works. Then suddenly he is given a deal from Auntie. She knows who Stede is, and wants to bargain. He'll get a small ship, in return for his future loyalty, and potentially that of Blackbeard. Hint that this was all from the 'Pirate Queen', and BAM. No need to have the entire plot on Zheng's ship, a plot that dragged compared to that on the Traumatized Revenge, and it gives the audience something to get excited about!!

Who is this pirate queen? What will this 'loyalty' mean for the next few episodes? Etc. Maybe find Lucius early in Ep 1 at the Republic recovering, having recently been left for dead by his nearest pirate ship. This way we have another thing Stede is keeping secret from the crew and Ed, and show how Stede would react in this situation. PLUS! Epic badass Zheng slowly being hinted at taking over the Republic from episodes 6-7 before she's foiled at the end of episode 8? Yes, this gets rid of us DIRECTLY SEEING that she was betrayed by Ricky, but instead of focusing on Zheng, focus on Stede and Ricky's dynamic in ep 1. Make us see how slimy he is. Then in ep 7 show Ricky making a deal on a ship we've never seen. Think Ed in ep 3 S1, dark, smoky, and when he enters the office? ZHENG YI SAO! Badass pirate trying to expand her grasp across the ocean to fuck over the worlds militaries.

THAT is a pirate threat. Not like Jack and his story of a mutiny, or Anne and Mary of however they left the life. Or Ned whose crew was a singly conversation of Mutiny. Pirates are clever bastards who aren't to be fucked with. Zheng is new, and a different way to control the area than we're used to. Then, we the audience can see JUST how fucked over Zheng will be. Zheng goes to land and still wipes up Stede's crew thanks to legend, and maybe a betrayal after finding out about the deal. Ep 7 bar fight, leading into episode 8. Hell, maybe have her and Olu flirt. This way the audience already knows Jim's alright with it AND we get to see more wingman Jim. Which was already a DELIGHT.

My big issue with Both Zheng and Archie's romances is that their Olu and Jim didn't feel like our Olu and Jim. Oluwande S1 was nervous, clever, and good with people. Very protective of Jim, I always got the opinion that if shit ever started to look bad, he'd do everything he could for him and Jim to flee. Jim was a hard egg to crack, but sarcastic and closed off even when you got to know them. Which they RARELY did.

In S2, Jim and Olu almost feel like the same goofy characters. The twist is that they still love each other and love someone else. Which is cool, just an odd choice. Given that their reunion felt...dull. But it's obvious the writers will only develop a character if they are in a romance. (Lucius and Pete? Let's talk about trauma and recovery. Olu and Zheng? Let's discuss kindness and softness? Jim and Archie? Loyalty and compassion built by blood.) That's all they had time for, and honestly, I'd rather deepen what we know about characters like Frenchie and Wee John than see another shallow romance. Lucius and Pete worked better because, AGAIN, they were ALREADY ESTABLISHED.

Much like how the rest of this season is too fond of callbacks, Zheng's entire character can be summarized by 'diet Ed' and I hope the fandom sees her harsh, willing-to-do-anything to get the job done, attitude and expands on THAT versus a carbon copy of the main show's romance. Her roll was to get closure with Auntie in a way that Ed couldn't with Izzy. Which...yikes.

tldr: good characters, but were sadly thrown away without much development.

[galadrieljones]

I'm the anon from before. Thank you for the response! I love The Dead Season by the by!

The discussion was super respectful. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. I’m not great at communicating via text and I think that has got me in trouble in the past.

What I meant is that the fandom is tense right now. I had a bad experience entering the Discourse in the Inquisition days. My poorly worded thoughts reached some people who were hurt by those thoughts. The response made me doubt myself. I lost enjoyment for making my art for a while.

I am enjoying making Dragon Age art again, but I’m too shy to join the discussion because of the past. I would like to keep doing what I am doing in my corner. I have so many thoughts I would like to discuss, and I felt compelled to write to you because I enjoyed your post and I do not know too many people in the Dragon Age fandom anymore.

Being shy when the fandom is unhappy has nothing to do with you or the commenters on your thread, and all to do with me not being able to brush off negative criticism and feeling that there is anger brewing in the larger fandom.

I hope that clears things up!

You are perfectly clear!! Thank you so much. I'm also very flattered that you like The Dead Season ^_^

Also, please feel free to send me asks any time you want to talk about some topic or other that you might otherwise feel uncomfortable sharing. On or off anon. I usually keep anon on all the time. You can also dm me !! To be honest, also, I completely understand feeling shy about sharing your ideas. I have a LOT more to share than I usually do, because I am also super averse to confrontation, so I totally get it!! I tend to put all my "thoughts" into my fiction, because that's really where I'm most comfortable. But in terms of just entering conversations in the fandom, that can be so...nerve-racking. The struggle is real!! <3

[thrill-kill-kult]

This post is like so overdue seeing as I went here back in March, but I found out recently that Sam Butcher passed away in May and I am absolutely heartbroken about it. So, without further ado, please enjoy a little ramble about the

👼Precious Moments Chapel👼

I have to start out with the utmost thanks to the lovely Reverend Jen from Fundie Fridays, whose amazing video essay was what led me to find out about the chapel. I really highly recommend watching it, she put a great deal of research and love into her discussion of Precious Moments.

Literally as soon as I saw that video I knew I had to go see the chapel for myself. I love all things religious art, especially churches, and I think it’s really cool to see some of the really unique churches we have in the US, especially because I feel like people don’t really think of us when they think of places with really beautiful and unique church architecture.

The Precious Moments Chapel is absolutely one of the coolest churches I have ever been to. Like this place is up there with the Cattedrale di San Pietro in Bologna (which is my favorite church of all time).

It’s in Carthage, Missouri, which is kind of in the middle of nowhere. My trip was originally going to just be to the chapel, but we ended up deciding to make it a stop on our way to Dollywood in Tennessee. I had never been to Missouri before, and I was really enthralled by how beautiful and green the landscape was. I also had never seen an armadillo before I saw one dead on the side of the highway. I was the only person on the trip who could drive (until we met up with my roommate’s mother in Nashville) so I was glad for a change of scenery after flat, boring Kansas.

The chapel is located a short drive from the highway, in an area mostly populated by farms. We came on a weekday and were one of the only cars in the parking lot.

They had this adorable little camper in the parking lot, and you could see actual camper stuff like a little folding table through the window.

We went in to the visitor’s center, and I absolutely had to go to the penny press because there is no way I was not going to get one of their darling designs on a penny. They had all these cute little displays in there that almost felt like the build-a-bear statues.

My roommate took this adorable picture of me in front of this giant goose statue :,)

Once we left the visitor’s center, we went to a little walkway outside to the chapel itself. The Sam Butcher museum was unfortunately closed (don’t worry, I fully plan on going back someday) so we weren’t able to see that, but we got to see all the really cool outdoor fixtures.

One of the most interesting things that I was really drawn to about the chapel is the relationship it has with death. There are bricks along the walkways engraved with names of loved ones who’ve passed. Sam Butcher had his gravestone made while he was alive, and it sat in front of the chapel, waiting for him.

The outside of the chapel is really stunning because of the carved wooden doors. The photos I took really don’t do them justice in even the slightest.

I didn’t take any pictures inside the chapel; it felt like too solemn of a place. I’m not at all religious (or Christian, for that matter) but churches have this sort of splendor about them that I feel demands respect. This does mean you’ll have to take me at my word, though, or go visit yourself (which I highly recommend).

The walls and ceiling is painted so that the main room has an expansive, larger than life feeling. The whole room feels light and heavenly, like the chapel is built from clouds. Beside the pews are massive paintings of rich landscapes populated by angelic characters in the classic Precious Moments style. To one side, they reenact classic Bible scenes. To the other, they depict children around the world in worship. Behind the altar is a massive, floor-to-ceiling painting of heaven, filled with golden winged angels and throngs of wide-eyed children.

Under the golden light and peaceful paintings is that undercurrent of loss, but it doesn’t feel bitter or dark. It feels kind of factual: this is part of life and it sucks, but it feels hopeful: we’ve been there too.

I’ll come back to that thought, but I first want to talk about the stained glass. I have always been fascinated by stained glass, and in my opinion, the coolest part of the whole chapel was its stained glass. Sam Butcher drew out the panels, then numbered the different colors of glass available from his distributor, and selected the colors for the windows like he was making a paint-by-numbers.

The two hallways on either side of the chapel are filled with these gorgeous stained glass pieces. I actually found out that a photo of one of the panels is in the Library of Congress. I really enjoyed looking at the stained glass. I really don’t think pictures do it justice either. It’s something you need to see in person.

Around the main chapel are displays containing a massive landscape painting done by Sam Butcher (if I have not said it already, he is an extremely talented landscape artist), some of his other art for the chapel, and every single precious moments figurine.

This is also the location of a much smaller room dedicated to Butcher’s son, Phillip, who died very young. This room and the one behind it have shelves filled with books of visitors’ dedications to loved ones they have lost.

I think in part I came with a mission to acknowledge my grandmother’s death. We grew apart in her final years, as I failed to become the marriage-ready young woman she’d expected. I was asked not to come to her funeral. I think she would have hated me for acknowledging her in the guestbook, and I don’t care, because it gave me the closure I’d been seeking since she passed.

Going to the chapel was a cathartic experience. It was also a purely joyful one, where I got to see some fantastic religious art and ooh and aah over cute porcelain figurines.

Of course, I couldn’t end my visit without going to the gift shop. I got an adorable print of a cowboy and cowgirl in the precious moments style (which I’m waiting to put up until I can properly frame it) and a really cool postcard with a picture of Sam Butcher painting the chapel with his huge pallet of oil paints in his hand.

I also got this darling shirt which is one of my favorite pieces in my closet (it’s the same one that Jen from Fundie Fridays got lol). I’m wearing it on the roof of a Honky Tonk in Nashville in this picture :)

The best thing I got by far, though, was a gift from my roommate. I have a little collection of bibles that I mostly use to make art (those guys on campus just hand them out for free!) and my friends often give me bibles as gifts. I also steal every hotel Bible I can get my hands on. So you can imagine how ecstatic I was when my roommate got me a Precious Moments Bible.

It’s got all these adorable color pages inside full of drawings of sad babies, and it’s just so dang cute. I use it any time I reference the Bible in a paper or my fiction writing (which happens way more often than you would think).

I’ve said it already, but I need to mention again how much I admire Mr. Butcher as an artist. He is so talented with color and light, and I think the fact that he can seamlessly blend really complex high-level artistry with his cute, cartoony style really speaks to his mastery of his craft. I also have a lot of respect for his tenacity. He had a lot of very difficult things going on in his life while he made the chapel, and he struggled with depression and lacking motivation, and he not only built that chapel and filled it with stunning artwork, but he left a piece of the ceiling unpainted and promised that he would never truly be finished creating. I have mad respect for that.

Really, I’m grateful for what this whole vacation meant to me. I started with a ‘hey, what if we went to this cute little chapel over spring break?’ And ended up having some of the most fun I’d ever had with some of my favorite people. It was definitely a challenging experience- I drove more than 40 hours with an injured wrist, we spent a very long time trying to convince Hotwire that my roommate’s father had died and we needed a refund for the bedbug-infested hotel she’d booked, we were way too high at the world’s most terrifying Indian restaurant, and we stayed at the Wichita, KS Red Roof Inn (which is a story for another time)- and it was one of the most rewarding things I have ever done.

I know someday when I’m telling stories about my life, I’ll think back to driving through Missouri with my roommates, eating beef jerky and shouting out all the weird billboards and Jesus signs we saw.

Thank you, Sam Butcher, for bringing joy and love to my life.

[lets-go-to-japan]

May 14th - Imperial Palace Gardens / やすくに Shrine

Freewriting:

My laundry finally dried this morning after the hotel dryer revealed itself nonfunctional, so my day started on a decent note. We started off the itinerary at the Imperial Palace Gardens - essentially what remained of Edo Castle after it burned down. There were so many slopes in the Imperial garden, but I guess that's to be expected from a castle / defensive fortress. The stone fortifications were some of the only things not to burn down the fire. It's impressive that they're still standing today. The (east) garden itself was beautiful, with a few ponds, lots of plants, and even a small waterfall. I thought about how at one time the emperor's child(ren) probably used to play in it. I think one of the most admirable parts of the garden were the different trees taken from each prefecture in Japan. Having them all in the imperial garden acts as a sign of unity among the people.

After that we went to Yasukuni shrine, which I talk about more in the academic section. It's a difficult problem to reconcile, especially when you recognize that it's not just widely identified if abstract controversies of the shrine, but also the more personal issue of someone deciding which people should have a say in the matter.

Once I finished at the gardens and the shrine, I went with Aruba to Nakano (or more specifically, Nakano Broadway). I still couldn't find the figure I was looking for, but I had a lot of fun anyway! Also, I got some ice cream, and Aruba got a crepe. I wonder why soft serve ice cream and crepes caught on in Japan so much?

Academic Reflection:

Yasukuni Shrine is a place of cultural importance to the Japanese, where the war dead are mourned - including war criminals. As the reading discussed, Yasukuni is by its nature linked strongly to the State Shinto of pre-WWII Japan. Many factors play into the controversy surrounding the shrine, but the link between church and state is one of the most prominent ones, at least when it comes to issues Japan itself is concerned about. Visiting the shrine today, I watched people come and pay their respects, but at the same time it felt as if the entire construct was built not just for mourning but in order to honor the deaths of those soldiers. Because of that, and because for many years the Japanese prime minister visited the shrine in an official capacity, I can see why China and Korea might be rubbed the wrong way. I think one of the larger issues that the shrine represents is Japan's attempt to in a way sweep the bad parts of its history under the rug, rather than owning up to the acts committed by its government during its imperialist period in a meaningful capacity. In my opinion, Japan should have the right to mourn its fallen, but it should also acknowledge that those soldiers were acting under orders that ruined or ended the lives of many people.

[fishparasite]

i'd love to have discussions on the morality of cannibalism with people who do not entirely agree with me but their arguments are always so terrible. "it's just morally wrong." okay that's not a reason why. "what if you change your mind?" girl do you think the corpse will care

[bestiarium]

The Stronsay Beast [modern cryptid; globster]

In September of 1808, a strange marine creature washed ashore on a beach of Stronsay in the Scottish Orkney Islands (at the time, the island was called Stronsa). It resembled no known animal, having six arms, paws or wings, which were about 4.5 feet (1.4m) long and resembled plucked goose wings. When the news reached universities and scientific institutions, anatomists were called upon to visit the carcass and find out what kind of animal it was. Unfortunately, by the time these scientific men reached the ‘Stronsay Beast’ – as people had taken to calling it – the corpse was decomposed and weathered beyond repair. Few biological traits remained recognizable, so eyewitnesses were called upon to describe what the creature had looked like.

According to these eyewitness reports, the creature was about 55 feet (16.8m) long when it washed ashore and had a long and thin neck. At the end of the tail was something resembling an ear.

Scientists were puzzled, and some were of the opinion that this creature must have been a sea serpent, whose existence was considered plausible by many at the time. Spearheading them was John Barclay, a respected professor in anatomy at Edinburgh University who adamantly claimed that the carcass was the first solid evidence of the existence of giant sea serpents. His opinion was opposed by Everard Home, sergeant-surgeon and lecturer in surgery and anatomy at London’s Royal College of Surgeons. He did not believe in great sea snakes and claimed that the ‘beast’ was simply the torn and shredded carcass of a basking shark. He dismissed the eyewitnesses as unscientific and relied only on the shape of the bones that were found within the corpse.

During the discussions on the nature of the beast, reverend Donald Maclean entered the stage and claimed to have seen the creature alive in June, several months before it washed ashore, near the coast of the island Coll. The reverend claimed that the creature had a small neck with a broad, somewhat oval-shaped head that looked at his ship. Alarmed by the approaching animal, the boat was steered towards the shore. Eventually, the water became too shallow for the large creature and it returned to the open waters. The reverend also estimated that the creature was about 70 to 80 feet long (21 to 24m), which is much larger than the corpse on the beach. Additionally, he claimed to have questioned the crews of several fishing vessels that supposedly also encountered the creature. According to these reports, the monster had a head as big as a small boat with big eyes as large as plates. Although it looked terrifying, the creature did not attack.

Eventually, belief in the existence of giant sea snakes died out (at least within the scientific community) and Barclay’s conclusion was no longer taken seriously. Today, biologists agree with Home that the creature must have been a dead basking shark, or rather the damaged remains of one.

Source: Jenkins, B., 2022, The ‘Stronsay Beast’: testimony, evidence and authority in early nineteenth-century natural history, The Royal Society Journal of the History of Science, 0, published online. (image source 1: MechaDaveO on Deviantart) (image 2: Home’s drawing of a basking shark compared to a reconstruction of the Stronsay Beast based on eyewitness reports, on the same scale. Image source: Phil. Trans. R. Society of London, 99, 206-220 (1809).)

[mint-yooxgi]

can you do part 2 of [graffiti artist] renjun please

Part One

***

Ever since that incident, you’ve noticed that same artist producing more works that relate to you. From your favourite stuffed animal you had when you were a kid (a little elephant with the softest ears ever) to your favourite flower, nothing has been spared from this artist’s repertoire. One thing is for sure though, it’s definitely someone you know. Otherwise, how else would they know all these intimate details about you?

Which is exactly how you find yourself over at Renjun’s place discussing such details.

“I mean, it’s obvious at this point it��s someone I know,” you say. “I just can’t decide on who.”

Renjun chuckles, somewhat nervously, “are you sure?”

“Of course!” You nod. “My bet is on Ten.”

“Ten?” Renjun’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” you nod, “he’s the only one besides you that I know that is that good at art. If it was you, you’d have told me by now.”

Despite your compliment, Renjun cannot help but purse his lips. There’s a part of him that just wants to scream out that it’s him. It’s him and no one else who has discovered your true beauty and just had to express it to the world. However, there’s another part, a much larger part, that enjoys seeing your reactions each and every time he produces another piece of artwork in your honour. With you not knowing it’s him, he gets to experience your unbiased opinions of his work, and nothing could make him happier, or set his heart racing faster.

After all, everything he does, he does for you.

Only, he just wishes you’d now shut up about praising Ten’s art style. He doesn’t know how much longer he can fake the smile on his face.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it would be so bad if it was him,” you shrug, and Renjun’s heart nearly stops at your next words. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if it were him. He’s really funny, and he’s pretty cute. Maybe I should ask him out.”

Renjun stays unusually silent as your words linger in the room, and you turn to look at him with a slight furrow in your brow. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looks... shy all of a sudden.

“Would it be such a bad thing if it were me?” His voice comes out a bit small as he continues to avoid your gaze.

You blink at him. “Of course not, but we both know it’s not you.”

“How can you be so sure?” His gaze finally lifts to yours and you're taken aback by the intensity now shining in his eyes.

“Oh, come on Junnie,” you chuckle, “you don’t have the balls to do something that bold.”

Even though you say it as a joke, he goes dead silent. Realizing your mistake, you’re about to apologize before him speaking beats you to it.

“So you think I'd be the one if I was more serious?”

“Renjun, that’s not what I-”

He stands, “you want to see bold?”

Of course that’s why you would think it’s Ten, there’s no one more confident than him. Poor, shy, moody little Renjun, can’t even work up the courage to tell the person he likes that he likes them right to his face. He thought you would be impressed by him if he did this. He thought you would swoon at the fact that he did this all for you.

Perhaps the problem is that you don’t know that it’s him that really did it.

Well, that’s all about to change right now.

In the blink of an eye, Renjun tosses his sketchbook, which had been tucked into his bookshelf beside him, at you. You eye him curiously as he stands, moving to exit the room only to throw a quick glance back at you from over his shoulder.

“Well, are you coming?” He practically demands, and in an instant you’re scrambling off of his bed to follow him down the hallway and into his studio.

The whole time, your heart is pounding. He never lets you anywhere near his studio or sketchbook whenever you come over. The one time you almost managed to sneak a peek at his drawings, he cussed you out for twenty minutes, so you agreed to respect his privacy and only look at the pieces he brings to you for you to see. 

Even still, you don’t open his sketchbook as you step into his studio, clutching it tightly to your chest as your jaw drops.

Canvases surround you, paint splattered across the walls and floor. Not just any canvases, though. Canvases that contain images that you’ve become all too familiar with these past few weeks all thanks to a certain anonymous graffiti artist.

“Still think I can’t be the one?” He says, somewhat pointedly, with his arms crossed as he motions to the sketchbook in your arms. “Open it.”

Slowly, you do, and the images that greet you have a gasp falling from your lips.

Pages upon pages of your own image stare back at you, with a few images of your favourite things drawn in-between. You blink away the tears suddenly forming in your eyes. Never has anyone portrayed you this beautifully before. Well, no one but that anonymous artist, who now seems to be standing right in front of you.

“So no, it’s most certainly not Ten.” Renjun huffs. “Frankly I'm insulted you didn’t recognize my art style right away from the pieces I've shown you, but I can’t blame you. Just never insult my passion for you again.”

The way his eyes flash has you immediately nodding your head, a whispered apology coming from your lips. You can feel your hands beginning to shake as you continue to hold the sketchbook in your hands, questions swirling through your mind now the more you take in your surroundings.

“But why?” Your voice is barely a whisper, the shock still clear on your features.

“Why not?” He quirks a brow. “Artists can spend years searching for inspiration to strike them, and come up dry. I’m just happy to have found you.” He closes the distance between the both of you in order to cup your face in his hands, a fond look now shining in his eyes as he watches you smile faintly at him. “I’m just lucky to have found my muse.”

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.3)

Chapter III: Abidance

✿ Word Count: 3.2k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Hakkai POV, Y/N POV, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, minor manga spoilers, slight angst

Awakening from his slumber, he found that the woman was no longer taking up space in his bed. He heaved a sigh of relief, only to, unfortunately, see a message from an unknown number on his phone saying “Text me when you’re free ;)” Ignoring the text, he found he had a message from Hakkai and remembered that he had abandoned him to sleep with that damn woman. However, Hakkai didn’t confront him about it, but instead acted as if nothing happened.

🗨️ Hakkai: Is the party still on for today? (Sent 2:00am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t feeling my best, I should have let you know. (Sent 10:00am)

🗨️ Hakkai: No hard feelings. Ya feeling better now Taka-chan? (Sent 10:01am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Not really, but it’ll pass. What’d you end up doing yesterday after I left? (Sent 10:02am)

Picking up on the subtle curiosity of Mitsuya’s text, it became clear to Hakkai that he did see him with you. As much as he admired Mitsuya, the anger building inside of him got the best of him. Therefore, in response, he chose a reply that he knew would get Mitsuya boiling.

🗨️ Hakkai: Caught Y/N outside of your class, had a wonderful lunch with her! She’s so nice, Taka-chan! Why are ya so mean to her? (Sent 10:04am)

Vigorous fingers typed in reply.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Why the fuck were you hanging around that slut? She’s just gonna try and get in your pants. What did she say to you? (Sent 10:04am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: Hakkai? Hello? (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Sorry Taka-chan, I’m back. She didn’t say nuthin bad, actually she was so sweet. She saw I was alone and we both had some tea together back at her place. Ended up sleeping over, I’m still here actually! (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Mitsuya: BACK AT HER PLACE? I told you, she’s just trying to get in your pants and you let her win! I can’t believe you let a whore like her win you over, Hakkai! Where the fuck is your brain? She probably was enjoying every minute of your sorry ass. (Sent 10:05am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Who said we slept together, Taka? (Sent 10:05am)

Silence enveloped the room.

🗨️ Mitsuya: Sorry… I just assumed that’s what you meant by sleeping over. (Sent 10:07am)

🗨️ Hakkai: Awh, it’s okie Taka, I know you were only looking out for me. (Sent 10:07am)

Absolutely, looking out for Hakkai. That’s what this was, that’s what he was doing. There couldn’t have been any other reason why he was so upset at the thought of you sleeping together. He was just being a good friend.

-----

┃ “Y/N!” the hoarse voice spoke to you, feeling the smooth cloth of his jacket pressed against your face as you bumped into him.

You looked up only to recognize Hakkai, kind thoughts flooding your mind, diminishing your anger stemming from your interaction with Mitsuya moments before. He grinned at you giddily, eyes relaxing any sort of tension left in your body. You slowly began to forget why you were mad and allowed yourself to indulge in his presence.

┃ “Good afternoon Hakkai! Waiting for Mitsuya?”

┃ “Mhm, you takin’ Designer 101 too, right?”

┃ “Yup! How come you aren’t taking it? You’re very fashionable, y’know?”

┃ “You’re too kind,” He giggled, his grin beginning to somehow grow wider on his cheeks as he raised his hand to pat your head.

┃ “I’m serious! Why don’t you join the class? It’s not too late, the second semester is about to start!” You eagerly pushed on, rejoicing in the positive energy he emitted.

┃ “ ‘m not really into making clothes, just showing them off...” He let out a hefty chuckle before getting cut off by you.

┃ “You don’t have to be good at making them! Some students choose to learn how to stylize different clothing and patterns, it’s all about the latest trends.”

┃ “Really?” He went silent for a few moments, smile morphing into a straight line as he contemplated your words carefully. Not to fret, as his smile quickly returned as he said: “Well then, might have to ask Taka-chan to help me sign up!”

You both shared a laugh and began to discuss the enrollment process in order for Hakkai to join the class-- if he were to drop another class, what class would he drop, or would he simply add it to his current schedule? While your conversation was nothing more than an innocent developing friendship, unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had witnessed it all and declared it once more another betrayal. You were such a slut, flirting with anyone and everyone. Irrationality began to consume him-- instead of seeing your interaction with Hakkai for what it truly was, a genuine developing friendship, his brain refused to comprehend your behavior with other men. He never got to the level of comfortability you had with Takemichi, and he had lost the sense of ease you had with him to Hakkai and god, god did it piss him off. Unfortunately for that kohai, she was just another doll for him to play with just until he could get your attention again. Even a single drop of your attention, your attachment, it was enough to drive him for weeks just to be able to be near you again. Your kind words squeezing his heart tighter and tighter the more you spoke, your laughter ringing in his ears at a corny joke he told you during club meetings, it enveloped him into infatuation which later developed into a larger feeling. Such a large feeling over the progressing months that when he began bullying you, when your lack of presence and absences during meetings began to grow, an emptiness began to root in his heart, waiting for you to touch it once more and let it grow.

He could go on and on listing things about you-- the way he loved your sense of fashion, the way he loved your sense of humor, your compassion to helping others, your intellect that allowed you to read everyone like a book, everyone except him. Why couldn’t you see that he didn’t hate you? Oh, but that jealousy, the first time he’d admit that it was jealousy, it gripped him so tightly around his neck that it felt suffocating. Every shove, every clasp of your hand, your wrist, your chain, your chain, it made his heart shutter seeing that dead watery look in your eye, but your attention was like a drug that he just had to keep getting more of. It would never be enough to satisfy him, not until he could call you his and you would call him yours. He pitied using them, he really did, but he needed someone to satiate his needs. He was a womanizer, after all-- if one left he would just charm another into his bed. They all had high respect for Mitsuya, his intellect, his charm, his skill, and his kindness. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all those women, they were never you and they could never try and be you. He found that he no longer sought sex for his own pleasure anymore, but for your own, pretending so desperately that the one trembling out of pleasure beneath him was you. Imagining, no, fantasizing that he was making you happy and leaving you satisfied.

Upon seeing your interaction, he quickly left with his kohai for their own exchange, leaving Hakkai unfortunately confused as he waved you goodbye, patiently waiting for his friend to meet him. You were still on campus because you had taken additional extracurricular activities to build up your transcript to make up for your absences in Mitsuya’s Home-economics club. At first, you attempted to make it through the club meetings but he made every single one as unbearable as possible. The second semester, could it come any sooner? Hakkai, too focused on organizing his schedule with you previously, had failed to notice Mitsuya leaving with a woman. He waited, he waited, and he waited, coming to a good hour until he realized Mitsuya wouldn’t have left him waiting for this long without a heads up. He looked at his phone, expecting some sort of contact-- a phone call, a message, anything. All that awaited him was several unread messages from group chats and friends, none of them from Taka-chan. He sighed, placing his phone away just as he noticed your presence once more, planting a fake smile on his face to disguise his obvious disappointment. Unfortunately for him, his smile only instantly alerted you something was wrong.

┃ “Hakkai? Why are you still here, weren’t you supposed to be meeting Mitsuya?”

┃ His phony smile stood in place as tears began to fill his eyes. He croaked: “T-taka-chan left me. Do you think he’s mad at me for sumthin’, Y/N? I don’t ‘member doin’ anything.”

You instantly rushed over to comfort him, witnessing what appeared to be an intimidating giant become undone into a fragile teddy bear at the thought he had upset his best friend. Your disdain only kept growing for Mitsuya, first it was his lack of maturity during class, and now he had abandoned his best friend for whatever reason it was. Hakkai was a sweetheart, you couldn’t imagine what he may have done to upset someone. Therefore, you came to the conclusion Mitsuya had thrown a tantrum of sorts and took it out on him. It irked you, however, Mitsuya always remained respectful and loving to his best friend in addition to Yasuda-san, so you couldn’t help but raise your brow wondering what got him so upset for him to entirely ditch his friend. Pushing those thoughts aside, you placed all of your focus on bringing a smile back to Hakkai’s face, gently rubbing his back and placing your forehead against his temple as he crouched over in defeat. You desperately attempted to think of anything to cheer him up.

┃ “Ah, how about some tea?”

┃ “...Tea?”

┃ “Listen, I have absolutely no idea what you like and I want to calm you down so-”

┃ “Tea sounds good.” He said softly, a small smile returning to his face.

You escorted Hakkai comfortably back to your dorm, located on the east wing of the campus. Women and men could go to each other’s dorms, they just had gender-separated wings because it was just easier to contain the chaos if everyone was allowed to sleep with their girlfriend or boyfriend. The boys had their dormitory on the west side, thus you noticeably got some glances as you strolled with Hakkai. Mitsuya was always surrounded by Hakkai and Yasuda-san, so obviously most of your classmates were shocked to see you hanging out with his right-hand man. Were you both sleeping together? Ooh what a scandal (not). Although you didn’t mind the glanes too much, Hakkai on the other hand made sure to shoot down them all with a nasty side glare, quickly causing them to turn their cheek. It was a cute sight after all, seeing how you subconsciously had reached for his hand and began to rub gentle circles on it in order to ease him, which succeeded in doing so. Once you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door and gave him a show of jazz hands as you toured him around your dorm. Your dorm wasn’t the largest compared to his and Mitsuya’s dorm, which made him realize the privilege of not having a financially aided dorm. Your queen bed comfortably rested on the right side of the room, covered with a curtain and fairy lights on the wall behind it. Your desk was not too far away, maybe a good 15 feet across your bed, not too messy but not too neat. It was obvious you were working on something, as there were papers still out and scattered but the rest of the desk had the pens, pencils, and stapled papers sorted in a clean pile. Your pinboard was half-covered with your calendar, cluttered with small sticker reminders while the other half was your schedule, nicely decorated with washi tape sticking it to the board. Next to your bed was a wooden closet and you led him into the cramped kitchen that made him gasp, seeing how you make such a tight space so comfortable and presentable. You had a small glass coffee table in the middle, a small fridge cramped in the kitchen underneath a cupboard and next to a cabinet holding the sink on top. Next to that was a stove with a microwave on top, both color-coordinated black, contrasting the white of the room. You guided him over to the table and motioned for him to sit and he obediently did. Walking over to the countertop holding an old-school kettle, you used it to strain and brew the tea. Gleefully, you dropped a few ice cubes in his glass and carefully poured his tea and then your own, sitting across from him at the table. He took a sip of the tea you had placed in front of him, smiling not at the delightful taste but the awaiting face you had fixated, putting your hands under your chin waiting for a response.

┃ “This tea is delightful, thank you Y/N.” He said warmly and you basked in his praise.

┃ “Ah, sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the staring. I don’t… really get visitors. It’s nice to have someone over.” You replied, your face beginning to glow a light pink as your lips formed into a slight frown, embarrassed to admit how you had no friends.

┃ “Mm, I should be the one thankin’ you,” The softness in his voice made your crouched posture fix itself as you looked up to him. “You made me sum tea, opened me to your home, all ‘cuz I was sad and overthinkin’. You ain’t hafta do that, but you did anyway. I appreciate ya!” His iconic grin was now back where it belonged as his eyes glazed over you in pure adoration. You smiled in return, both returning to take a sip of your tea.

Hours passed and he was still at your house, you both gossiping and talking like old friends. You discussed your classmates, praising them and disapproving of the behavior of others. He began to confide in you about what he witnessed during his time as the second-division’s vice captain. You eagerly listened to him as he described to you his tales with his brother and his amazing sister Yuzuha, anything and everything was up for debate. At least, almost everything. Despite being the main reason he was so upset, you and Hakkai had not discussed Mitsuya’s treatment of you. He was mentioned in a few gang stories, but it seemed as if Hakkai was opting out of speaking about him out of respect for you. However, his head began to slump, implying he was tired. You grabbed your phone, which had been placed upside down on the coffee table, and looked at the time and saw it was well past midnight. You leaned over to rub Hakkai’s shoulder and you gasped when his head turned back upright, alert as if he just remembered something. Drunk on drowsiness, he began to speak:

┃ “Mmh, y’know Mitsuya used to talk about you a lot. Always went on about this pretty girl who was awfully sweet, really smart…” He trailed off, fighting off the sleep that clung desperately to his eyelids. “He never gave me a name but after club meetings when I woulds wait for him, he would tell me about his conversations. I always saw him looking at ya. What did ya do to make him so pissed off?” Although he had no malicious-intent in his questioning, it was enough to cause goosebumps all over your body.

┃ “I didn’t do anything, ‘kai. Really, nothing different happened that day. All of the sudden, the next day during his club he humiliated me in front of everyone and then made me stay after hours to yell at me even more.” You went silent for a moment, before your curiosity got the best of you and you questioned: “He used to talk about me? Are you sure?”

┃ Ignoring your question, he replied to your initial response. “You didn’t do anythin’ different at all that day?”

┃ You contemplated his question carefully, before realizing the one event that was an outlier to the rest. “I was waiting for my friend outside campus gates that day. He offered to wait with me but I insisted he didn’t, mainly because my friend had said Mitsuya wasn’t very fond of him so it was better if he didn’t see him.”

┃ “Who’s the friend?”

┃ “Hanagaki Takemichi.”

┃ The tired man in front of you took a full minute to process your sentence before bursting out and crying of laughter a few moments later. You looked at him, pure confusion coating your body as he continued to sob. Finally, after a few minutes, he wiped his eyes and sat back up, gleaming at you. “Well that’s your problem, Mitsuya fucking hates Takemichy. Probably spied on ya because he was worried, saw Takemichy, and boom-- he got jealous AHAHA!” He went back to crying of laughter, leaving you a few moments to yourself to process his words.

It was embarrassing to admit how Hakkai was half-asleep in front of you and somehow managed to put together your puzzle of confusion together months after said incident had happened, in under 20 minutes. However, you couldn’t find yourself disagreeing with his theory. Suddenly, Hakkai stopped laughing and looked up at you, all serious.

┃ “Now wait… that’s not funny! He’s been pushing ya around all the time just cuz he’s jealous of you being with other guys?! That’s fucked up! ‘M gonna beat his ass, Y/N! Just for you!”

You now began laughing, taking Hakkai’s hand in yours over the glass countertop and tapping it gently.

┃ “That won’t be necessary, ‘kai. How about we come up with a solution?”

┃ “My solution is beating his a-”

┃ “A non-physical solution.”

┃ He went silent for a few moments, looking away from you to the window to think. You could tell he thought of something when a smirk began to plaster itself on his face. “How about we test our theory?”

┃ “Elaborate.”

┃ “If that pain in my ass is done with whatever it is he’s doing, there was supposta be a party tomorrow. Not at our dorm, but our friend’s. You might have heard of him, Manjiro Sano?”

You responded with silence.

┃ “Mikey. The Invincible Mikey.”

┃ “Not ringing any bells.”

┃ “Brother of Emma Sano. Brother of Izana.”

┃ “Emma Sano is so nice!”

┃ “Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang, Y/N.”

┃ “Oh.”

┃ “Point is, he’s having a party tomorrow. We could get some revenge, I bring you as my date~”

┃ “Won’t that make him angri-

┃ “That’s what revenge is.”

┃ “Why don’t I just talk with him?”

┃ “Has he tried talking to you?”

┃ “...no.”

┃ “I rest my case.”

Silence enveloped the room once more. It wasn’t an awkward silence, no, it was quite a comfortable silence actually as he patiently awaited your response and allowed you to process and think.

┃ “When is the party exactly?”

✿ tags: @haiq-trash @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron @delicatejudgecopcowboy @skiwalkers

✿ a.n. // First of all, thank you so much for 102 followers <3 I appreciate the support being given to me! I would like to address one thing, however, please don't rush me to write! I've gotten very kind messages of support but others have been demanding more of me and it's important to remember that I have classes, chores, a social life, and many other things happening. I love writing but rushing me makes it unenjoyable and it won't be my best work. My goal for this ongoing fanfic is to post weekly. Just a little ted-talk there, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter though! I had such a fun time writing it :)

[angelamajiki]

[ peace treaty - kiribaku ]

AN: this is a fantasy au piece, enjoy! :)

CW: yandere, dubcon, arranged marriage, stalking, coercion, dragon/animal anatomy, fantasy au, afab terms, predator/prey dynamics, size difference, facesitting

“A mate, huh?” Katsuki chuckled as he stroked his companion’s horns, looking into the horizon thoughtfully.

“Think about it! We need hatchlings to lead the future generations of the Bakugo clan.” Eijirou pleaded with his mate. “Don't you ever miss the company of a woman? I know I do.”

Adding a woman to their pack would certainly bring its advantages. It would undoubtedly strengthen their positions as clan rulers if they were to have a wife and children to carry on both men’s legacy.

“Fine,” Katsuki conceded. “Let’s go find a mate then.”

The pair returned to their respective forms, wolf and dragon, as they began their hunt through the wild countryside for their new mate. Days of running down the mountainous forests away from their clan, they settled on resting at the edge of the woods, looking at a clearing just over a shimmering river that separated the two territories. Beyond the meadow was a small fortress surrounded by the community that they presumably controlled—a perfect place to start their search after some well-needed sleep.

Katsuki was the first to awaken from his slumber at the sound of a woman’s voice. And a heavenly voice it was, signing an alluring melody. Peaking his head over the bushes, the young prince saw the enchanting woman bathing alone in the stream. The other man had awoken as well, just as equally entranced by the naked dancing woman.

“A vixen...” Katsuki murmured, twisting to look at his mate. It was clear to both men that she was the mate they were looking for. Independent, vexing, sweet. She was perfect.

“Let’s snatch her up now while she’s distracted, ” Eijirou grumbled impatiently, eager to take her back to their den at once.

“Patience, Ei. I want her too, but now is not the moment to strike. Let's watch her a bit more; she needs to be more than a pretty face, you know that.”

Katsuki did not doubt that she wasn’t their perfect match, but he is a predator to her before he’s a man to her at this moment.

The blissfully unaware maiden that you were, you went on with bathing peacefully in the warm, summer day. Your attendants had followed you from the castle, watching from afar as they knew you valued your time alone in the stream. After some time, one of them called for you back to the castle for supper. Dried and dressed, the group of you departed from the meadow by horse as the sunset.

“So, she’s a princess, Katsuki.” Eijirou’s tail trashed with excitement. “If we marry her, we’ll get this territory too! Oh, I wonder if she likes to travel..” The red-haired man went off on a tangent about his many fantasies for you while the blonde thought deeply. This was almost too perfect; he had just the plan to corner and ensnare their lovely little prey.

The men stayed at the edge of their territory, for the time being, glad to notice that you had returned to the riverbank almost daily. Sometimes you took your handmaidens; sometimes, you came alone while they trailed back.

They learned that you liked to flip through many a book while basking in the sunlight. A library would be a perfect wedding present for you-they intended to spoil you thoroughly with the dragon’s hoard.

Five days had proven to be enough time for the men to watch you and returned to their clan to make the necessary preparations for your place as their lovely spoiled mate.

---

A fortnight later, a letter from the young prince arrived at your doorstep, addressed to your father, the king.

“An alliance? With the barbarian tribe, that’s unheard of, father. Are you sure it’s not some trick?” You doubted, finding it difficult to understand his request. The barbarian clan was...mysterious, to say the least. Living up in the mountains beyond the river, they were a solitary bunch who were ruthless and never exhibited mercy towards their foes. Not much was know about them because they simply never made alliances or held diplomacy with other clans or kingdoms.

“Perhaps they wish to make allies with the next closest kingdom, my dear.” Your father spoke quietly, his voice wavering as he avoided your eyes. “You’ll go up the mountains to discuss the terms with young Bakugo. An older gentleman like me is not suited for those kinds of traveling conditions.”

Nodding solemnly, preparations were made for your immediate departure. All of your belongings were brought to your carriage, something that struck you as rather odd. Although father did say something about the uncertainty of the amount of time you would spend with the barbarians for the sake of discussion.

With that in mind, you set off into the forest just as the sunset.

---

The journey had taken nearly five days through the rain and snow, your small carriage trudging up the mountainside to the den of the barbarians. As your carriage came to a stop, two men helped you out and down, both possessing a tenderness that didn’t seem possible for them. The blond was bare-chested, even in the snow! He stood at about six feet and had a body that seemed the gods themselves sculpted it.

“Welcome to my clan, your majesty.”

His smirk was wolf-like, eyes bearing down on you like a predator who has caught his unwitting prey. “Come, let’s get you inside to warmth and comfort. I'm sure you’ve had a long journey. Eijirou here will help with your belongings and join us after you rest.”

The prince held out his arm for you to take as the red-head beside you gave a toothy grin before setting off to work. He...he was something more than a man, he had to be! Standing at well over six and a half feet, he was much more muscular than the blonde; Eijirou airs about him more than human. It was inexplicable.

Katsuki gave a gentle tug to your arm before ushering you to the massive tent that stood in the middle of the community of barbarians who looked onto you with glowing pride. What an odd bunch of people, but you couldn't very well judge them now, could you? They simply had a different culture, another way of life.

The tent seemed larger than life on the inside and was impossibly warm. It had had a large bed adorned with piles of pelts and furs near a roaring fireplace. Many bookshelves lined the walls, as well as prized kills and weaponry were displayed. Katsuki led you to a table near the warmth of the fire. How-

“Magic, princess. I am fortunate enough to possess it, as well as many of my clansmen.” Katsuki boasted, clearly prideful of his abilities. He could only hope it impressed you, which it certainly did. “It keeps us warm up here in the dead of winter, which is soon approaching. It protects us, provides for us, all of which it will do for you too.”

Your smile could hardly be contained as you gazed upon the handsome man with wonder. For you, too? Would this he be so kind as to lend you its strength while you struck a deal with them? The barbarians were indeed nothing like the fairytales you had heard about them.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Sir Bakugo. I am truly humbled to be here with you.”

“Call me Katsuki, little one. We should grow familiar with each other before our wedding.”

His wolfish smirk grew wider as he saw the look on your face. Ah, he so loved that look of feeble innocence and confusion on your expression.

“Oh, did your father not tell you?” he chuckled, taking a sip from his cup. “This is an alliance through our union. Suppose you’ll have us, of course. Otherwise, we might have to resort to other means down the mountain.”

Us? Oh, he means-

“Ei, don’t be shy and stand in the doorway. Come greet your bride properly.”

Thundering footsteps came from behind your seated form as Eijirou towered over your much smaller frame.

“Please, tell me you agree to us, my love. We've waited so long for your arrival, won't you let us have you?” A scarred but gentle hand enveloped yours as the dragon shifter kissed it tenderly. “There’s no need to be frightened; we intend to treat you like our queen and spoil you rotten with all the world’s riches. Grant us your blessing.”

How could you deny them? Your kingdom was in danger, yet these men, they lulled you into such a state of comfort and safety. Perhaps it was the magic at work?

“Please, may I think on it?” Your heart battered against your ribcage with fear and excitement. Two men, both for husbands. What a strange culture indeed.

“Only if you let us have you tonight. Give us a chance to prove our worth as not only husbands but as men to you.”

Blood rushed to your face, heating your cheeks as you felt aflame with shame, and to your horror, arousal. They are seasoned men. Indeed they’ll treat you as gently as they have been the whole time?

“O-Only if you are gentle with me. I am...inexperienced.”

That was all the approval they needed. Eijirou, still behind you, swept you up in his arms and onto the bed. Wanting to show some display of his true strength, he ripped your gown clean off your body. Whimpering, your hand flew to grip his forearm fearfully. “Gentle, please, gentle.”

Eijirou shushed you softly, placing a sweet kiss on your trembling lips, hands beginning to wander to down your sides and to your sex. Stroking your clit in small circles, the men relished in your little whines and moans.

“I think I should give you a taste, huh? I haven't eaten all day.” He purred as he dipped down to press kisses to your lips before diving in with his hot tongue, lapping your clit.

Katsuki’s searing kiss swallowed wanton moans and cries. Eijriou’s hands kept your squirming hips firmly in place, positioning you to sit on his face while the blond continued to lay passionate kisses on your lips, neck, and chest.

Teeth sunk into your neck as the prince wasted no time in marking up his newfound territory. Your cries heightened in pitch as you gripped red hair, calling out Eijirou’s name as you came from his overwhelming sucking and slurping of your juices.

“N-no more! Please, that's enough!” Whining, you began to shake when his tongue barely came to half after your cries. Panting and writhing, you peeled off his tongue and laid on the furs next to Katsuki.

“I think that’s enough for this evening; poor thing is already exhausted.” Katsuki chuckled as he dabbed the sweat off your brow and cleaned in between your legs.

“We’ll build up your stamina and be sure to stretch you gently daily.” Eijirou quipped as he took his place next to your side. Up close, you could see how different he really was. Red iridescent scales trailed on his sideburns and h

shoulders. Absentmindedly, you stroke them and wondered if there were more.

“After all, it’s customary to lose your virginity on the wedding night, so need to rush you in right now. Have you made your decision, given Ei’s stellar performance?”

Letting sleep overtake you, your head nodded gently as he rested on Eijirou’s shoulder. The hunt was over and the men could not be more happy with their choice.

[rhijp]

May 28 - Asakusa

Today was our first full day in Japan. In the morning we took the metro to Asakusa and visited Sensoji, the oldest Buddhist temple in Tokyo. This particular temple —completed in 645 C.E— has been devoted to the goddess Kannon, known for her mercy.

After entering the gates to the temple square, we were greeted by an incredibly vibrant market filled with souvenir and food stands of all varieties. We spent time exploring the many streets of this area which, as you can see in the picture below, were filled with many other visitors who also wanted to see what the temple square had to offer.

As we neared the temple, we came across sites such as charm booths, a fortune telling stand, and even a place of burning incense said to heal the ailments of those who touch the smoke. Many of our group had their fortunes given to them after offering 100¥ and walked through the healing incense in hopes of improving their odds of success in this class.

In the temple, we saw a beautifully sculpted alter where many Buddhists were paying their respects.

After eating lunch at the food stands, we took the metro to the Fukugawa Edo museum. At the museum our group was able to see Tokyo as it once was while it was still known by its previous name Edo.

Here at the museum, we were able to learn about many kinds of shops and buildings that would have been found in the city during 18th century.

(Left: inside a storage house, Right: portable soba shop)

After visiting the museum we each split for the day and enjoyed our own activities around Tokyo.

Academic Reflection

In the first two readings we had today we primarily focused on Mahayana Buddhism and how it is typically expressed in Japan. One subject that was discussed in these readings is that, since the primary role of the Buddhist priests in Japan now lies in the performance of funeral rites and functions, many Japanese people have detached themselves from this way of life and only see it as a means by which the dead are taken care of. Because of this declining lack of vigor in the religion, many of the Buddhist denominations have taken to trying to make themselves a larger part of Japanese life.

Two of the ways which the denominations have been trying to insert themselves into peoples’ lives have been to increase commercialization and to create pop culture elements such as anime/manga adaptations of their most important stories. During our visit today, the commercialism, in particular, stood out to me as we walked through the streets. To me, the temple square felt primarily like a tourist attraction and lacked any significant presence of religion aside from the artifacts themselves. Even the amulets and other technically religious items such as the fortune telling sticks felt more like souvenirs and fun games. While I admit, this sort of commercialism does seem to greatly deepen Buddhism’s connection to Japanese culture (the participation of the thousands of people present can attest to that), it seems as though a piece of the movement itself is lost in the fun.

The third reading, focused on the rise and leadership of the Tokugawa shogunate. From the great founder of the shogunate Ieyasu to its later leaders of varying power and influence, these ruling warlords’ regimes oversaw Japan during the Edo period which was depicted at the museum we visited today. Although, the reading did not much affect my view on the museum, learning about edicts did help explain what one could see while viewing the exhibit. One such edict was that each regional daimyo was required to spend much of their resources coming to and residing in Edo. Having such an law in place makes it clear how the city was able to flourish as it did as thousands of wealthy samurai frequently made the journey to Japan’s future capital, spending their money and causing the city’s economy to rapidly grow.

More tomorrow!

[bifilthatonthatseson]

Jiang Cheng timeloop AU - Chapter One

AO3 link

Jiang Cheng wakes up. His siblings are dead.

He knows it immediately. Even sleep could not take that loss from him. It followed him down, haunting him, twisting his dreams into torment. Memory has always been his curse: to remember, always, all the hurt he has received. A-Jie is dead. Jin Ling is an orphan.

And Wei Wuxian -

His mind flinches away from his brother’s name. He can’t.

Someone knocks on his door.

For a moment he simply cannot believe what he hears. The Yunmeng contingent had stumbled back from the massacre exhausted, bloody, and grieving, so late that the sky had already been lightening to its pre-dawn deep blue. His sister is dead. (And his brother-)

Who in the name of all the gods would dare disturb him the morning after all of that?

Jin Ling, he thinks suddenly, terror galvanizing his heavy limbs. No one would disturb him for anything less than a catastrophe. He thrusts the blankets aside and struggles into his outer robes. “Enter,” he calls as he hurriedly begins tying up his hair.

He can’t see who enters, hidden as he is behind the privacy screen by his bed, but he recognizes the tread of his head disciple. “My apologies, Sect Leader,” Jiang Xinyi says, with that particular tone she has perfected that contains no apology whatsoever. “I came to enquire when you want the disciples ready to leave for the pledge conference.”

Jiang Cheng stops mid-motion. His body flashes hot all over, then icy cold. “The pledge conference?”

“Yes, Sect Leader. The one today?” She sounds almost amused now, or as amused as she allows herself to be when on official sect business. But she and Jiang Yanli were friends. Last night she had looked as drained and hollow eyed with disbelief and grief as any other of Jiang Cheng’s disciples. How could she possibly sound amused?

And how could she possibly be talking about the pledge conference?

His gut churns. He doesn't understand. He defaults to anger. “How dare you discuss such things so lightly!”

Silence. He might even characterize the silence as “startled.” Her lack of reaction infuriates him more. Settling the lotus guan over his finally finished hair, he storms out from behind the screen, Zidian sparking on his hand. “Talking of the pledge conference as if it were some pleasure boat, when instead -”

As he rounds on Jiang Xinyi, several things come to his attention. First: she looks fine. Healthy, well rested. There are no signs of grief, nor of emotion imperfectly suppressed. Second: her arm, which Jiang Cheng knows for a fact had been broken in two places, is neither in a sling nor obviously giving her pain. Third: she has raised her left eyebrow just slightly enough that he can’t call her on it, but that clearly conveys that if she were a less well-trained disciple, she might question her Sect Leader’s sanity.

“Sect Leader, are you well?” Despite the eyebrow, there is no hidden sarcasm in her voice. He must look terrible enough to engender genuine concern.

Jiang Cheng wants to shout at her. How can he be? But there are too many things here he doesn’t understand. “I’m fine,” he snaps. He sees the skeptical expression that she is too slow to hide. “The conference,” he says, testing. “The disciples are ready?”

“Yes, Sect Leader,” she says, without a single note of distress in her expression or voice.

Jiang Cheng makes a snap decision.

“Tell the juniors that I’ve changed my mind. I want a larger group here to guard Lotus Pier in my absence. I want all juniors to remain behind, especially those under sixteen.” Those are the ones who had been decimated - yesterday? - when the fierce corpses ran mad after Wei Wuxian -

He shudders all over. No. No.

“With all due respect, Sect Leader,” Jiang Xinyi begins.

“Tell them,” he interrupts her. It’s rude - almost intolerably so - but he is her sect leader. She snaps to attention and bows. “Yes, Sect Leader.” It’s amazing how in her mouth, the common phrase he hears all day long can sound so much like a rebuke.

She leaves, and Jiang Cheng is left alone in his room to contemplate the impossible. His mind sends up flares, beacons of information he has been ignoring: his own body feels fine, relieved of the bone-deep aches where even his newly strengthened golden core had been unable to relieve the agony of muscles pushed to the breaking point. He had spoken to Jiang Xinyi without pain, when he knows that last night his throat had been a column of red fire from screaming.

Suddenly he has to see for himself. He takes the briefest moment to make sure his robes are on correctly, his guan straight, before storming out of his room so fast he manages to startle the guards outside his room into an attack stance.

Jiang Cheng stalks around Lotus Pier like a man possessed. He bursts onto the training grounds, into the dining hall; he throws open doors in the barracks where the disciples are housed, rousting those who have not already risen. He saves the infirmary for last. Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, he forces himself to open the door.

The room is empty. Jiang Cheng walks briskly from one end to the other, searching, even though he can see all the way to the back of the room from the front. His footsteps echo in the empty room. Even the healer is missing, off on some unknown errand.

He barely makes it to one of the beds before he collapses on it.

The dining hall and training yard are full of healthy, uninjured disciples. All of them are present - including those Jiang Cheng had personally seen missing limbs yesterday. The infirmary is empty.

It wasn’t real.

His heart pounds. He tries to hold his head in his hands, but his hands shake so badly he can’t manage it. Was it a vision? A dream? It had felt so real.

A-Jie, his heart cries. A sob escapes him before he stifles it ruthlessly. He can’t bear the thought of anyone hearing their Sect Leader fall apart over a nightmare.

If it was a dream, then his sister is alive.

If it was a dream, then his brother is alive.

 Wei Wuxian.

All the thoughts Jiang Cheng has been suppressing, has been refusing to think since he woke up in a world that didn’t make sense, flood back in and drag him helplessly down.

Wei Wuxian had lost control. Wei Wuxian had killed Jiang disciples. Wei Wuxian had allowed a fierce corpse to strike at their sister’s unprotected back, and he had watched as A-Jie threw herself in front of him to prevent him from dying and then hurled himself off a cliff, heedless of her sacrifice, making a mockery of her death even as he refused to allow Jiang Cheng to avenge her properly.

Except it didn’t happen. None of it had really happened.

Relief makes him weak. He can’t get a hold of himself, can’t stop the small sounds that escape him no matter how he tries to suppress them. It was a nightmare, or a curse, to be so real. His mind, exhausted and strained over the problems his shixiong has caused, had invented some horrible story to torment him. But it isn’t true. There is no world in which Wei Wuxian would allow Jiang Yanli to be hurt.

Except Jin Zixuan is dead, his brain reminds him. That brings him up short. Jiang Xinyi had mentioned the pledge conference, which means that Jin Zixuan truly has died. Yanli has already been hurt.

It still seems impossible to Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian murdered A-Jie’s husband, even using the Ghost General to do so. The problem is that there is nothing else to believe. There were witnesses. Even if those witnesses could not be trusted, Jin Zixuan’s body bore silent witness to exactly what killed him, and it could have been nothing other than a fierce corpse. True, Wei Wuxian had never liked him, and true, he had not been at their wedding, to see how genuinely, truly happy A-Jie had been, how even Jin Zixuan’s peacock face had gone soft and wondering at his good fortune when A-Jie had been led towards him. But still, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t -

This is pointless. He knows it’s pointless. He can’t understand it. He hasn’t understood Wei Wuxian’s choices for months, maybe years. He desperately wants another explanation for what happened than that his brother opted to murder their sister’s husband. He doesn’t have one, but he does have both brother and sister alive to demand answers from.

Jiang Cheng wipes at his face with the sleeve of an inner robe. It comes away wet. He meditates as best he can, circulating his qi until his eyes and face feel normal.

He can still feel the dead weight of his sister in his hands. He remembers, viscerally, the way her body had cooled as he screamed, as he sobbed, as his head disciple (the wrong one, always the wrong one) had forced him up and took him away from the battlefield, gathering up what was left of the Yunmeng disciples and bringing them all back home.

Jiang Cheng stands up. He has no idea what happened to him last night, or what will happen today, or what choices Wei Wuxian has made or why he made them. But he does know one thing.

Jiang Yanli is alive. She is alive, and Jiang Cheng swears by all his ancestors and all the gods that she will remain so.