#was it casual when we cannot exist without the other when we are both the beginning and the end ?

[drdisasterartz]

stardust to stardust // inspiration -> "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt

edit: reblogs r appreciated plsplspls😖💕‼️

[gummy-cat-writes]

save it for a rainy day | spencer reid x bau! fem!reader

synopsis: while on a case in Seattle during a particularly rainy week, the team learns that you've never been kissed, a fact Spencer didn't realise would both him so much

content warnings: criminal minds typical themes (discussions/descriptions of violence, injuries, death, trauma and generally not great things) please read at your own risk!! also minor spoilers for s7 ep19 (heathridge manor)

ingredients: mostly fluff, she fell first, he fell harder, I got carried away so it's basically a casefic, inaccurate depictions of the US/how the FBI works (sorry I'm not American), a bunch of random facts since its literally Spencer's main love language (cannot guarantee the legitimacy of said facts they were from singular google searches), limited use of Y/N (I tried) and I'm not entirely convinced the plot exists sorryyy

word count: 6k (like I said I got carried away whoops)

a/n: eek this is my very first attempt at posting my writing on tumblr, and also my very first x reader fic! (finally living up to my username lol) I got a bit carried away with this and it is just a tad self indulgent but I hope you all enjoy and if I missed any content warnings please let me know!!

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, but being wet it made him look like a soggy cat. Much to his dismay, the current case happened to be in Seattle, Washington, right in the middle of their rainy season – perfect for an unsub who liked to drown their victims in rainwater.

Spencer had only just stepped out of the jet when he felt the light downpour beginning to dampen his head and shoulders, squinting up at the sky with a disgruntled look.

“I hate the rain,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, thankful he’d long since transitioned back to contacts, as wearing glasses in this weather would have made the trip entirely more frustrating.

“Aw, come on,” a voice chirped up beside him. “It’s not that bad,” You were much more prepared than him, already opening a brightly patterned umbrella as you descended the plane steps. “It smells so nice.”

Without being asked, you lifted the umbrella higher so he could duck beneath it. The two of you began the walk across the tarmac, following Hotch and Rossi, with Emily, JJ and Morgan bringing up the rear.

“The term for the smell we usually associate with rain is actually called petrichor,” Spencer said, unable to help himself. “The word was coined in 1964 by Australian scientists, it’s a mixture of water and other compounds like ozone, geosmin and plant oils.” He wrinkled his nose, the aforementioned smell filling the morning air. “It gets particularly strong during a downpour like this.”

You chuckled. “Well, I think it’s romantic. I always imagined my first kiss would be in the rain.”

Spencer ducked as you closed the umbrella, arriving at the terminal entrance. He watched as you held back, letting the rain fall on your face for a moment.

“Was it?” he asked.

“Hm?” You blinked, before shrugging. “Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you said, in a surprisingly casual tone. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

This statement somehow caused Spencer’s stomach to flip, and he found himself unable to form words.

Emily, who’d overheard the tail-end of the conversation, did not have the same issue.

“You’ve never been kissed?” she said incredulously, already grinning at your now somewhat sheepish expression.

“I’ve sort of being saving it,” you admitted, smiling nervously. “I just think that being kissed in the rain is so romantic.”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Emily responded fondly. “Wait ‘til Penelope hears about this.”

You groaned, your cheeks reddening. By now, JJ and Morgan had caught up, the former eyeing Spencer with concern.

“Spence, you okay?”

Caught off guard, Spencer’s next words came out a little harsher than intended.

“I don’t care if it’s romantic,” he snapped. “I still hate the rain.”

Spencer had no clue what was going on. It had been ages since your conversation on the tarmac, but your words kept replaying in his head. It was one of the few times he loathed his eidetic memory, as the visual of you standing calmly in the rain, water dripping down your face – more specifically your mouth – swam in his brain whenever he closed his eyes.

“-and Reid can share with her.” The sound of his name broke him from his reverie, and he looked up frowning. The team had dropped by their hotel to freshen up before heading to the precinct, and were discussing who would be sharing a room together. Typically, they got four rooms, with six of them pairing up and one person getting a room to themselves. JJ was looking at Spencer, that concerned look on her face again.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

Spencer’s brain rebooted awfully slow. “I- what?”

“Room shares,” Emily cut in, looking amused as the others chuckled. “You’re good to share a room with Y/N, right?”

All Spencer could do was glance between his team, his eyes landing on Morgan.

“What about Morgan?” he asked. Something about sharing a room with you made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

Morgan laughed. “Sorry, pretty boy, it’s my turn in the solo room.”

“I don’t mind,” you piped up, glancing at Spencer with a friendly smile. “Spencer?”

“Do you kids need to do rock-paper-scissors to decide?” Rossi’s tone was exasperated. “Me and Hotch, Emily and JJ, Reid and L/N and Morgan on his own. Simple.”

There was little more arguing Spencer could do without being obvious, so he reluctantly followed you down the hall to your room. Why on Earth was such a short, insignificant conversation making him feel like this? He’d shared rooms with you on cases before, what was so different now?

You unlocked the door to the room, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. For a moment, Spencer could forget it too, watching as you examined the room, enthusiastically dropping flat onto one of the twin beds.

“This room’s a lot like the one we shared in Massachusetts,” you mused absentmindedly. “The layout’s the same. I like the old-fashioned look.”

“You know, the oldest hotel in the world is the Nishiyama Onsen Keiunkan,” Spencer said. “It’s a ryokan, which is a traditional Japanese-style inn, and was first opened in 707 AD.”

You smiled. “Oh, yeah?” Sitting up, you looked up at him with a genuine interest that always made him falter his words.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, it was created by the son of an aide to the 38th Emperor of Japan, Emperor Tenji. Actually, quite a few of the world’s oldest businesses are in Japan. There was a report published by the Bank of Korea that found that 56% of the around 5,500 companies older than 200 years are in Japan.”

“Damn,” you said, still smiling. “Well now I want to go to Japan.”

Spencer chuckled, averting his gaze. His rambles were typically met with disinterest, yet you were one of the few who would properly pay attention. You too were prone to rambling, though your tangents tended to be more anecdotal than random facts. But why now was your attention so nerve-wracking?

“Spencer?” Your voice once again pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” you finally asked, frowning at him. “You’ve been really space-y today.”

“I’m fine!” His voice rising in octave definitely didn’t sell it. “I’m just… tired.”

He gave her a tight smile, hoping you’d drop it. He busied himself with setting his go-bag onto his bed.

“Do you think I’m weird?”

That caught his tension.

“What?” Spencer stared at you, concern that you’d ever think that overruling his current dilemma. “What are you talking about, you’re not weird you’re- you’re you-” He cut himself off as you laughed.

“Spencer, I’m in my 20s and I haven’t had my first kiss. That’s pretty weird, isn’t it?”

He blinked. “I didn’t have my first kiss until my 20s.” he pointed out.

“Yeah, because you were, like, twelve in your senior year. It would have been illegal to kiss you,” you said, amused. “I think I’ve only ever held hands with one person all through school.” Your smile faded a little as you fidgeted with your sleeve. “I guess I always expected dating and romance would just happen, like in the movies, and it never really did.”

“Well, in the US, the average age of the first kiss is fifteen, but even that varies between regions.” Upon realising his comment wasn’t helpful in the slightest, he back-tracked. “But everyone has their own timeline. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

You sighed, standing up. He could tell now that despite your casual tone on the tarmac earlier, it really did seem to bother you. Something about the melancholy look on your face stung something deep in him.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said softly. “I’m going to go shower.”

The Seattle Police Precinct was a buzz of activity – the media had been all over the murders since a sixth body had been discovered, which was why the BAU had been called in. As Penelope had explained in the briefing, so far the unsub had killed six women over the course of two and half months. All six victims were women in their 40s, who all went missing a few days before their bodies were found in empty lots, significant amounts of rainwater in their lungs. With no other injuries on the bodies, it had been difficult to determine a clear motive.

Upon arriving at the precinct, Hotch set about delegating tasks so the team could build a profile. Spencer was strangely relieved when Hotch sent him to the medical examiner with Morgan. It wasn’t that he didn’t like working with you, but your comments had stuck with him more than they should for someone he saw as a friend, and he knew the longer he spent around you, he’d likely make a fool of himself.

The ME went over the autopsies with them, noting some of the interesting findings.

“So, it appears the victims spent a significant amount of time in water before they died,” she said, frowning at her clipboard.

“How can you tell?” Morgan asked.

She walked over to one of the tables, lifting the sheet covering the most recent victim, pointing at her arm. “See how the skin is thickened here, and the sores? She must have been in the water for good while, for the skin to do this. They all were.” The ME crossed the room to pick up a tray, bringing it over to show the two men a cutting of fabric. “The clothes they were wearing were beginning to mould, which can happen with water damage. These women were fully submerged for days before they died.”

“And you can confirm they died from drowning?”

“It’s quite difficult to determine if drowning is the official cause of death,” The ME replied. “But given how much water was in their stomachs and lungs, and the foam present, I’d say so.” She grimaced as she read through her notes. “It certainly wasn’t done quickly either.”

Morgan frowned. “This is similar to the case in Oregon, at that manor.” He paused, glancing at Spencer. “Reid,” he nudged him. “You good?”

“What? Oh- yeah, I’m fine.” Spencer stuttered, very aware he wasn’t convincing his colleague in the slightest. “The case in Oregon?”

“The way the victims were submerged in water, it’s similar. Do you think this unsub is also torturing?”

Spencer forced himself to focus, frowning at the body in front of him. “It seems it serves as both a way to torture, and to kill. The Oregon ones were killed with nicotine poisoning.”

“I also noticed something else,” the ME spoke up. “I found bits of rust stuck to their hands.” She moved the sheet, turning the victim’s hand over. Flakes of deep orange speckled the skin of her palm, which was reddened and raw. “I think they were holding onto something for quite a while, something metal.”

“Didn’t the Oregon unsub submerge the girls in a well?” Morgan said. “Perhaps we’re dealing with a copy-cat.”

Spencer shook his head. “Those details weren’t released to the press, it can’t be. Besides, if they had, they would have the grazes on their bodies from the rocks of the well, wouldn’t they?”

The ME nodded. “Aside from the hands, they’re relatively unharmed. That, and a bruise to the back of the head.”

Morgan nodded, putting the pieces together. “So the unsub hits them over the head to stun them, takes them somewhere and keeps them in a body of rainwater until they’ve drowned and dumps them in lots?”

“He’s gotten better, clearly,” the ME mentioned. “The first two victims had multiple wounds to the head, whereas the more recent ones only had one.”

“So,” Morgan said, seemingly talking to himself. “How long until he attacks again?”

Spencer leaned against the car, trying to read while Morgan phoned Penelope to update her on the unsub’s MO. Emphasis on trying. He’d been re-reading the same page over and over, and when one can read at his speed, it got repetitive rather quickly.

“- great job, baby girl, keep it up,” Morgan was saying as he returned to the car, putting his phone away. “So, Penelope is going to look into places where the unsub might have been able to keep the women, but that could be anywhere-”

“Ow!” Spencer looked up, offended, having just been flicked in the forehead. “What was that for?”

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” Morgan stated, eyeing the younger man. “More than your usual weird. What’s going on?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, looking back down at his book, only for it to be snatched from his hands. “Hey, give that back-”

“Not until you tell me what’s up,” Morgan’s voice was serious, using a similar tone Spencer had heard him use with his sisters. Firm but compassionate. “It’s pretty obvious something is wrong.”

Spencer’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a huff of frustration. “If I knew, I would tell you,” he grumbled, hesitating before he continued. “I- Y/N told me this morning that she’s never been kissed, and I can’t stop thinking about it-”

He was interrupted by Morgan’s hearty laughter. “That’s it?”

Spencer stumbled over his words, his face flushed. “It doesn’t mean anything, I’m not-”

“Pretty boy has a crush~” Morgan teased, the smirk on his face not shifting, even as Spencer smacked his forearm to get him to shut up.

“What? No, that’s ridiculous!” he snapped. “She’s my co-worker, my friend! I just-”

“Realised how much you’d like to be the one to kiss her?” Morgan finished for him, getting into the car. “Did you only just come to this conclusion today?”

Spencer scowled, climbing into the passenger seat. “What are you talking about?”

“Reid, you’ve been ogling her since she first started working here,” Morgan pointed out. “I know we’re not meant to profile each other, but it’s textbook-”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about! We’re just friends!”

Morgan chuckled. “If you say so. But, if you ask me, I don’t think she’d be too opposed if you asked her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Infuriatingly, Morgan chose then to finally fall silent.

You couldn’t understand what you’d done wrong. It had been two days since the team had arrived in Seattle, and Spencer was 100% avoiding you. He averted his eyes every time you spoke, made excuses to leave the room when it was just the two of you together, and barely spoke when you finally returned to the hotel to rest. Surely he wasn’t put off by what you’d told him at the airport?

When you’d said you were saving your first kiss to be in the rain, you were only half lying. A kiss in the rain would be romantic, but you desperately wanted it to be with him. It had been a little over a year since you joined the BAU, and you’d spent practically every day since then head over heels for Dr. Spencer Reid.

Who wouldn’t? He was your type in every way – nerdy, awkward and ridiculously good-looking.

So far, you’d managed to keep it hidden from most of the team, save for Emily, JJ and Penelope. Curse those women for being so good at their jobs. And curse them for teasing you every chance they got.

“What are you looking at?”

Speak of the devil, and doth shall appear, looking exactly like Emily Prentiss. She set a coffee down next to you, choosing to lean against the table rather than sit, giving you a knowing grin.

You quickly looked back down at the files in your hands. “Nothing,” you mumbled, convincing no one.

“Honestly, you are lucky the boy genius is the most oblivious man in the world,” Emily said, frowning at Spencer, who was discussing the case with Rossi and JJ. “I’m surprised he hasn’t caught on yet.”

“Would you keep it down?” you hissed, swatting her with a file. “I don’t want the entire precinct to know.”

She cackled, nudging you with her leg. “I figured you could do with a push in the right direction,” Leaning down, she lowered her voice. “That direction being a certain doctor’s bed-”

“Emily!”

“I’m just putting it out there, you should go talk to him,” She stood up to avoid any more file assaults. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

Fortunately, the lecture was interrupted by Hotch walking into the room, a particularly stormy look on his face. “There’s been another kidnapping,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The team bundled themselves into the cars, heading to east Seattle, where a staggering amount of police cars and media vans were already gathered. Breezing past the officers and into the house, you followed JJ and Emily into the bedroom.

The previous women had all gone missing while at home, all living alone, or when their partners weren’t home. This time, it was clear the victim’s partner had been home. He was laying on the bed, blood splattered everywhere and a pillow covering what was sure to be fatal head wounds.

“Monique Johnson is currently missing, the neighbour found this after hearing their dog barking inside.” Hotch said as he followed in behind you.

“Clearly the unsub didn’t expect the boyfriend to be home,” JJ muttered. “This is overkill, he lost his cool.”

Hotch nodded. “We need to give the profile.”

“We believe the unsub is a white man, likely in his 30s. He’s not very noticeable, blends in with the crowd,” Hotch began, arms crossed as he presents the profile to the Seattle Police. “Given how he manages to break into the victims’ houses with little to no trouble, it’s possible he has experience with burglary, and may have a criminal record.”

“The victims all resemble each other physically, and in personality,” JJ continued. “It’s possible the unsub is viewing these women as surrogates for someone in his life, possible a sister, or a mother, given the lack of sexual components to the crimes.”

“We’ve classified him as a control-oriented killer,” Morgan picked up. “The method in which he drowns his victims over a gruelling multiple days is his way of being in control. Though he is very intelligent, and manages to limit any physical evidence left behind on the victims, he clearly struggles when plans don’t go his way.”

“The most recent victim is Darius Bowers, 47,” you spoke up. “He was killed during the abduction of his girlfriend, Monique Johnson. This is the first time the unsub has killed a man, and it is very clear it wasn’t meant to happen.”

“He knows we are getting close, which means we only have a limited time to find Monique alive.” Hotch concluded.

As the officers dispersed, you breathed a sigh of relief. Delivering profiles was nerve-wracking, but it was good to know you were on the right track.

“What are you- hey!” Spencer’s voice shot up an octave as you grabbed him by the sleeve, all but dragging him into a nearby hallway. He looked as if he were caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, trying and failing not to sound desperate. The reality was the distance hurt, more than you could admit. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire case, and it’s clear I’ve upset you, which is the last thing I wanted, so would you please just spit it out?”

Spencer stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, utterly speechless. Then, slowly, a deep red flush crept up his neck and he cleared his throat.

“I- I don’t know.”

It was rare to hear that phrase from him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s- You haven’t done anything wrong, I just-” He was stuttering, eyes directed towards some far off thing as he struggled to explain himself. “I think I’ve come to realise how much you care about me, and-”

“Guys, it’s Penelope.” JJ said sharply, peeking around the wall.

You let out a huff of frustration, storming after the blonde woman, leaving Spencer nonplussed and red in the face.

The team huddled around the table, where Morgan’s phone on speaker in the middle, playing the upbeat voice of Penelope Garcia.

“Alright my lovelies, so I have been fighting tooth and nail with these files, trying to find a link between the victims and let me just say, it would be easier to get Hotch to smile, it is difficult-”

“Garcia-” Hotch’s tone was warning.

“Sorry sir,” she quickly added. “I think I’ve found something. Weeks before Janet Burgess, the second victim, went missing, she payed a fee for a lawn service through Green City Lawn Care-”

“Isn’t that where Monique Johnson works?” Spencer piped up, frowning.

“Why indeed, boy genius, and get this, Danna Howell, the fifth victim also had her lawn mowed by the same company!” Before anyone else could interrupt, she continued. “Now, you’re probably thinking that it’s just a coincidence, but the universe is rarely so lazy, so, I dug a bit further and found out that all the victims at some point used the service in the past six months, and three of them left quite scathing reviews of the company.”

“That’s great, baby girl, but we both know you can do better,” Morgan teased.

“I was getting there, chocolate thunder-”

“Garcia-” Hotch warned, a little more impatient.

“Sorry sir, so I went through employee records and just seven months ago they hired a Tristan Murray, who has only just completed 15 years in prison.”

“What for?” Emily asked.

“I’m not-so glad you asked,” Penelope said, her cheery voice becoming more grim. “Burglary that ended with assault of the homeowner.” A rapid sound of typing was heard. “Looks like he had quite a nasty childhood, his biological mother was only 16 when she had him, and put him into the foster system. He got with the wrong crowd, spent time in and out of juvy, and oh god-”

“What?”

“Apparently he was arrested for the burglary charges when police were called to a cafe for a verbal altercation between 19 year old Tristan and his biological mother. Police reports say she came there to meet with him and he wanted to have her in his life but she didn’t, and this made him very angry.”

“Where is his mother now?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, it looks like she is still in Seattle but- oh no- she got a restraining order against him just recently.”

“That’s the trigger,” Hotch said. “Alright, Reid, L/N, Morgan, you take officers to Green City, JJ and Emily head to the mother’s place and Rossi and I’ll go to the unsub’s house.”

Green City Lawn Care was a run-of-the-mill lawn care company, nestled in a mostly suburban part of Seattle. The sky was a deep grey, not yet raining but clearly it would soon, if the rumbling thunder was any indication.

Spencer couldn’t say a word to you, his mind still reeling from your earlier confrontation. As he strapped on his bulletproof vest, he snuck a glance in your direction, and when his heart jumped at the focus in your expression, he felt yet another wave of confusion.

Following his conversation with Morgan, he’d been going over every memory of you in his mind, analysing your behaviour and he’d come to the shocking realisation that maybe his colleague was right.

The shy smiles, a kind tone reserved only for him, flinching when your hands brushed and the occasional flush to your face when you spoke to him. While Spencer knew he was blind to subtle social cues, re-examining all those behaviours were blatant indicators of at least some level of affection beyond a platonic line.

Had he only missed it because he couldn’t imagine you – or anyone, for that matter – seeing him in that light? Or was Morgan also correct about him? Had he been so caught up in watching you he hadn’t actually seen you?

Observing the way you frowned as you buckled the clips of your vest, the variety of your expressions flashed in his mind, your smile, your laugh, your pout, it all burned itself behind his eyes, causing some unknown feeling to bubble in his chest, threatening to burst free.

“Ready to go?” Morgan asked the both of you, adjusting his earpiece.

You nodded, and he turned away to check on the Seattle officers.

Spencer opened his mouth, your name on the tip of his tongue, and as you made to walk towards the building, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

The sky above rumbled, and a few drops of rain hit his shoulders, darkening the fabric.

“Listen, I need to-” he began, unsure of exactly how to explain his feelings, but knew he had to tell you, before it consumed him.

You stared up at him, conflict crossing your face as Morgan called the two of you. Giving him a brief smile, you gently pulled your arm from his grip.

“After, alright?” you said.

When did you become able to so easily steal the air from his lungs?

“Reid, come on.” Morgan said, frowning.

The three of you took the lead, crossing the car-park towards Green City Lawn Care as a few officers brought up the rear. Guns ready, Morgan paused outside the front door, directing some officers to go around the back, before nodding at you and then Spencer.

The door chime jingled as Morgan walked in, body tense as he directed the baffled receptionist to head outside, asking him if Murray was in.

“He- He just came by, said he was grabbing supplies-” the man babbled, pale in the face of three armed FBI agents. “What’s this about?”

“Let’s go,” Morgan ordered, ignoring his questions, taking the lead as he jumped over the counter, gun ready as he opened the door to the back supply room.

The three of you filed into a large garage, which held a few lawnmowers, and various other lawn care equipment.

“You two, take that side.”

Spencer followed as you crept around the right side of the garage. There was a clatter of something hitting the floor, before the face of a man poked up between the machinery.

“Tristan Murray?” you called out, pointing your gun at him. “We just need to talk!”

The man didn’t hesitate to bolt, and Spencer’s heartbeat thrummed faster as the two of you chased after him, Morgan a ways behind, radioing for back-up.

Running to the back door of the garage, the man dashed outside, disappearing around a corner. Without a second thought, you ran after him, and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from sprinting after to you. He could see the figure of the man darting down a side street, which lead to what appeared to be an abandoned construction site.

The rain was heavier now, blurring Spencer’s vision as he watched you slide between the gates, running straight into the site. He somewhat clumsily stumbled into the gate, pulling it open, while trying to keep you in his line of vision.

Morgan had caught up by now, the two of them squeezing through the gates into the site. It was clearly meant to be a building, but hadn’t been touched in a while. The pelting rain soaked the dull grey concrete foundation blocks as the two men squinted through the downpour.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan shouted.

“She went after him, I-” Spencer tried to catch his breath, his lungs burning.

“Murray, this isn’t going to change anything!” Your shout caught their attention, but the following cry of pain chilled Spencer to the core.

Sprinting in the direction of the scuffle, he found Murray on top of you, a metal pipe pressing against your throat.

Before he could really process what he was doing, he grabbed Murray, pulling him off you, managing to take the man by surprise long enough for Morgan to catch up.

“I’ve got him!” he shouted, tackling the man to the ground, silver handcuffs already being clipped around his wrists.

Spencer whipped around to you. You were on your feet, muddy and a bright red streak of blood coating your right arm, running down your hand.

“Spencer, she has to be here!” you said urgently, looking around. “He ran here for a reason, this is where Monique is!”

“Where is she?” Morgan shouted at Murray, hauling him to his feet.

The man bit his tongue, angrily glowering at them all, still attempting to struggle against Morgan.

Your eyes darted from foundation block to sodden wooden pallet. And then you ran off.

“I’ve got this, go after her!” Morgan said.

Spencer was already chasing after you, as you jumped down, following the gutter down some slippery wet grass to where a large storm-water drain sat.

“She’s here!” You shouted, already pulling against the metal bars. Spencer all but stumbled down beside you.

A woman was in the drain, gripping on to the bars with all her strength, the rushing water from the pipes bubbling over her face. “Help me lift this!”

Spencer nodded, grabbing one end of the grate, and the two of you managed to lift it just enough so you could grab Monique’s shirt, dragging her out of the drain.

She was pale and barely conscious, but thankfully coughing up water. You held her shoulder as she heaved, relief clear on your face.

“Your arm-” Spencer said, heart rate slowly ticking down to a normal rhythm.

It was as if you barely noticed the wound. “I cut my arm when he tackled me,” you wheezed. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Something about you, covered in mud and blood, your cheeks flushed from the exertion, asking if he was okay, confirmed what he’d been questioning all along.

Despite their victory, the rain didn’t let up by much. Spencer was positive he looked ridiculous, soaked to the bone, but he didn’t care. He walked over to one of the ambulances, where an EMT was stitching up the cut to your arm. It looked pretty nasty, but without the blood dripping everywhere, it was certainly improving.

You glanced up as he approached, giving him a tired smile.

“You okay?” he said, as the EMT finished covering the wound, excusing herself.

“I’ll survive,” you replied, examining the wound. “Might get a cool scar. It’ll make me look more badass.”

Spencer chuckled. The two of you looked around at the scene, blue and red lights reflecting off the rain. Monique was being wheeled away in a stretcher.

“Hotch is going to be so mad at me,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have gone after him alone.”

Spencer shook his head. “I’ll vouch for you. If you hadn’t, Monique would’ve drowned.”

You nodded, but your expression was bitter. “She’s about to find out her boyfriend is dead,” you mumbled. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

Standing up, you sighed, tilting your head up as the rain soaked your clothes once more. In contrast to how calm you’d been on the tarmac, your face was melancholy.

“You were right,” you said, dejected despite the success of the case. “The rain isn’t that romantic afterall.”

Spencer looked down at you, then up at the sky. The events of the past few days replayed in his mind, and the revelations that had come with matched the steady rhythm of his heart. He reached out, almost imperceptibly, letting his hand brush against yours.

“It’s beginning to grow on me,” he said softly, glancing back down at you, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “Thanks to you,” he added, and when you linked your hand with his, he tried not to let it show how breathless the action made him.

Your smile was nothing short of beautiful.

As if sensing the troubles were passing, the rain lightened up as the team returned to the precinct to wrap up the case, and then headed to the hotel. Cases like these always seemed to drag on when you’re in the thick of them, but the moment you’re done, you swear no time has passed.

Spencer headed out of the hotel, spotting the brightly coloured umbrella you’d brought before he saw you, standing in the rain. Your go-bag was on the steps of the hotel, sheltered from the light downpour.

He walked up to you, gently tapping the fabric of the umbrella so you’d lift it up for him to duck under. “Is your arm any better?” he asked after a moment.

“It stings a bit,” you replied. “I’m fine, though.” There was something in your voice that told Spencer you weren’t.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we did good,” he said softly. “You did good.”

“Why do people do things like this, Spencer?” you asked quietly.

“Do you want the statistics?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him a bit. “Yes.”

“Humans are, and have always been a naturally violent species out of all the mammals,” he said. “Studies show that in most mammals, deaths caused by others of the same species accounts for 0.3 percent of deaths, and typically the reasons are practical; food, territory, et cetera. The rate of lethal violence in humans is almost seven times higher,” Spencer couldn’t resist gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “We kill not just for those reasons, but for seemingly insignificant or even perceived transgressions. Anger is particularly potent, and it makes us do terrible things. Combining that with an often hostile and intolerant society, it makes us predisposed to kill.”

“We’re kind of awful, aren’t we?” you said bitterly.

Spencer nodded slowly, glancing at you. “Some more than others. Some less. If its any consolation-” he hesitated for a full 30 seconds of rain before continuing. “You’re one of the least awful, in my opinion.”

He loved the way your smile grew, gradually reaching your eyes and filling his chest with warmth.

“Thanks,” you said genuinely. “For making this case a little less awful.”

“I’d like to make it not awful at all, if you’d let me.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Wordlessly, Spencer reached up, taking the umbrella from your hand and closing it. Gently dropping it by your bag, he took your hands, leading the both of you properly out into the rain. You stared at him, and something clicked, your smile faltering in favour of a more surprised expression.

Spencer tentatively touched your cheek with one hand, fingers barely grazing the skin, as if he was scared you might shatter.

“May I?” he asked, his cheeks going pink at how his voice cracked.

Your small nod was all he needed. Spencer leaned down, his other hand drifting up to cup your jaw with more confidence as he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed with intent, he always did. He couldn’t help it, using the kiss as a way to almost press the words he wanted to say into you.

You let out a muffled squeak of surprise, tilting your head back as your hands found the slightly damp fabric of his cardigan. You kissed back, clumsy and inexperienced, but neither of you cared. The rain was chilly, you both knew you’d be uncomfortably damp for the flight home, but those were small prices to pay for a moment that Spencer realised you’d been right about.

Kissing in the rain was indeed, very romantic. It was romantic in how despite knowing that your clothes were getting wet, your hair was ruined and you were shivering slightly from the cold, all you wanted was the moment to drag on forever.

Finally, you were the first to pull back, grinning up at Spencer with bright eyes and a wide smile, cheeks flushed. You were both vaguely aware the others were watching, Emily and Morgan snickering to each other in your peripheral, but it didn’t matter.

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, and he knew in this moment he probably resembled a soggy cat. However, for you, he’d gladly make an exception.

thank you for reading <33

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[elainsgirl]

if we ignore all the ways the text itself makes it clear elain’s book (with az) is next and just look at the marketing/publicity side, i still don’t see how people can deny that elriel is next:

- the coloring book including the TT scene

- the illustrated dust jackets with nessian and elriel for acofas

- the countless magazine articles saying they believe elriel is next (time, E! news, etc)

- the decision to make the azriel bonus chapter exclusive to BAM but the feysand one to B&N, which has a much larger audience of readers and then reprint the feysand one in the special editions

- interviews where sjm said she’s already started writing elain’s book and had “dreams of ivy choking her” (if we go with their assumption that elain is book 7 and gwynriel is book 6 except you don’t start writing book 7 before book 6 so why would she have been writing elain’s back in 2018ish?)

this is all just off the top of my head so there could be more. and that’s just without analyzing the text, which in itself practically screams elriel!!! i’ve talked with 2 of my friends who are casual readers and none of them even know that gwynriel existed as a possibility bc of how outlandish it was. and if that is how casual readers in 2025 are STILL reacting to gwynriel, there is absolutely no way she would spring a ship that doesn’t exists in canon on her readers! at least mor and emerie was hinted at in acosf so if they get a book together, it at least makes sense bc it was explained on the page in the actual books. i just don’t understand how people can deny both the text and marketing decisions at this point

The second Sjm stopped mentioning Elucien in her videos and became “hush” “hush” about Elains Li - it was ringing bells that elucien is no longer endgame. But you’re completely right, lets *solely* talk about the marketing aspect of this. Buckle in, this is long.

*Before we begin, Let’s make it clear by Acowar/Acofas - Sjm definitely knew what was happening in acotar 4 = acosf and Acotar 5, she herself said both those books lay crumbs and foreshadowing for the future.

The colouring book that did quite well & rated highly on goodreads. It contains all the significant moments @elrielsgarden recently did a post talking about it but lets focus on the elucien/elriel scenes we get.

There is no elucien scene within the coloring book. The closest is this, the scene where Elain is standing next to Lucien. Where his focus is on Nesta and Elains focus elsewhere.

Then Mass chooses to include a scene between elriel: When you look at this scene, what do you remember?

This passage:

as much as antis say this scene is insignificant and means nothing - Sjm, the author herself clearly found it to be important enough to be included within the coloring book.

So, Here Mass included the iconic truthteller scene yet if elucien is endgame - why did she not include a single significant scene between them? Why elriel? It could have been Lucien giving Elain his cloak in acomaf? It could have been a picture of them sitting together when they first talked. Anything YET eluciens get nothing, so what exactly is the point? What marketing technique is this? Why did she want to include an elriel scene but not Elucien.

Moving onto the dust jackets:

Like, come on. You cannot tell me this wasn’t done on purpose, Mass knew what she was doing - so again, if elucien was endgame, why isn’t he apart of this? Why isnt he next to Elain?

You close the book, Nessian land on each other. Elriel land om each other. If Nessian is endgame and this was for a romantic hint/purpose. well. Following that logic - the same reason applies for elriel, another hint at Elains final endgame.

Keeping all of this in mind so far - Let’s look at some interviews from Sjm:

Let’s combine all of these to get a general gist of the spinoffs:

3 spinoffs = 3 novels. It was in acowar where Sjm started writing a story and realised she wanted to explore new characters- There’s a few characters I say Acowar diverts too that are “new”: Vassa, Helion/LoA, Miryam. She also says she planned and researched for Elains book. But the two most important things to me are 1) She knew Nessian were next AND what she wanted for the second novel. The third novel she left the door open for, logically; If the next book is elucien, Mass would have already known who Az ended with therefore knew what the last book would be about, Gwynriel. Vice versa. If Gwynriel is next- she definitely would have known elucien would be acotar 6 YET only 2/3 spinoffs were planned. Then - you may ask who or what the last book could be about? Prequel. Especially with the way HOFAS went, Sjm seems ready to dive into the lore of and history of pre-acotar.

So if Gwynriel was endgame, Gwyn being so important to the plot as Gwynriels claim: She would have been introduced in acowar or even acofas. The books that set up the spinoffs, is she brought in within those books? No. Even by going off on what Sjm has confirmed about the spinoffs, it already logically disproves both elucien and gwynriel.

onto the articles:

E! and Time are good sources that are held highly and people believe. They have an honest reputation for being informed and real as far as news articles can go. Both these articles talk about which couple? Elriel. Here’s the thing: For Gwynriel to work, it has to be next as (Azriels bonus = his pov next) so shouldn’t these articles be talking about him? Yet its Az AND Elain. No Gwyn. They don’t even focus on elucien.

To have these major sources talk about elriel…when the next book is going to be gwynriel is just complicating and confusing for casual readers which are majority of the fandom. Mass nor BB would want that, would they? And this bothers antis as some even lied that these articles mentioned their ships as well (conveniently no proof was given to go w the claim)

Nail on the coffin is the fact Feysands bonus will be reprinted and included in the new editions, the bonus that talks and has a slight focus on Elain. If one was to *only* have read Feysands bonus, be honest. Would you have come to the conclusion that Gwynriel’s book is next?

No and that itself puts an end to Gwynriel. The ship has slowly been sinking this year and this was the final proof- it was never happening. And if you don’t have Gwynriel -> no way for Elucien to happen.

And you’re right, aside from casual readers not clicking onto Gwynriel being next - for ACOTAR specifically, Mass has set up each couple before their book in the same way. They each have had some foundation, attraction, romance, actual tangible connections to the plot BEFORE their books. A gwynriel book will be a messy, retconneed book which is a lot of effort to create AND make sense with the previous series and I just don’t see Mass doing that. If Gwynriel was to happen, there would have been no need for elriel. These books focus on ONE couple. Elucien had angst without elriel. Gwynriel could have been set up to have angst without elriel, so why even create elriel in the first place? As a “red herring” ? But then why would any author go through so much trouble in positivity developing elriel and their plot for 3 consecutive books if they weren’t happening?

When you try to follow Gwynriel/Elucien logic there is a lot of confusion.

I feel like I got off track somewhere - my bad. Point is - by marketing alone and adding all that has happened in regards to the ships it had always pointed towards elriel. Elains book, Az as her Li. At MOST - there’s a speculation on a love triangle between Az, Elain and Lucien - even then who is the focus? Elain. Not Gwynriel.

I think 2024 was the year of elriels’ soft launch. BB and Mass prepping the fandom for an announcement and 2025 will be elriels year. Where everything will come together in a nice neat little bow. 🎀

[plotbunnysyndrome]

More Than Honour

Chapter 29: The Best of Intentions (and Other Catastrophes)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Introduction: They thought the games had ended. They thought the medals and the laughter had closed the story. But the heart has its own tournaments — Ones no one volunteers for. Ones you don't always win.

It began, as most terrible ideas do, in the Bridgerton household’s least supervised corner: Benedict’s studio.

The air smelled of oil paints, turpentine, and unfinished opinions. Sunlight slanted through the high windows, pooling over canvases and crumpled sketches. It was the perfect breeding ground for bad decisions.

Colin burst in, carrying two teacups and absolutely no sense of restraint.

“He looked like he wanted to kiss her,” he announced, without preamble.

Benedict, hunched over a canvas, didn’t even glance up. “Lucien or Anthony?”

Eloise, sprawled across the window bench like a bored cat, didn’t miss a beat. “Exactly.”

A beat of silence. Heavy. Knowing. Slightly charged.

Hyacinth, perched cross-legged on a stool, let her teacup clink a little too perfectly against the saucer. Her eyes gleamed.

“This cannot continue,” she declared. “Someone’s going to end up in tears. And it’s going to be Anthony. And frankly, no one wants to see that. He’s bad enough when he stubs his toe.”

Daphne, who had arrived under the guise of “checking on Benedict”, exhaled into her tea like a woman preparing for war. “We cannot interfere.”

“We must interfere,” Hyacinth countered, nearly vibrating with righteous chaos. “It’s our sibling duty.”

Colin, leaning on the edge of the desk with no regard for Benedict’s art supplies, added, “Edwina is a sweetheart. She doesn’t deserve to be caught in…whatever this is.”

“An emotional thunderdome,” Gregory supplied helpfully from the floor.

Benedict finally looked up, paintbrush in hand, expression bone-dry. “What do you propose? A duel? A séance? Poison Anthony’s tea and hope for clarity in the afterlife?”

“No,”  Hyacinth said, sliding off her stool with the fervor of a general unveiling her battle plan. “We gently—elegantly—nudge Lucien and Edwina together.”

The room fell still.

Eloise blinked. “You mean…redirect the romantic narrative entirely?”

Colin raised a brow. “You’re proposing we reassign the feelings?”

“Exactly!” Hyacinth beamed. “I saw them laughing together after dinner. They would make a good pair. They're both lovely. They're both... available.”

Gregory, eyes wide, nodded like it was gospel. “Like musical chairs. But with love.”

Daphne looked like she was experiencing a migraine in slow motion. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

Hyacinth had already produced a chart.

“Lucien,” she said, pointing, “is charming, wealthy, scandal-free—shockingly—and enjoys drama. Edwina is sweet, impressionable, and has absolutely no idea she’s in the middle of an emotional minefield.”

Colin looked at the chart like it was a treasure map. “What’s this column labeled ‘explosion risk’?”

“That’s Anthony,” Hyacinth said simply.

The Plan:

Eloise was to distract you ("Just ask her about her latest book. She'll forget the world exists."). Gregory and Colin would orchestrate Lady Danbury’s interference to keep Anthony occupied (“just say the word duty a few times, that’ll send him into an existential crisis”), and Benedict would “casually” escort Lucien toward the garden("You appreciate scenic hedges, don't you?").

Flower petals were somehow acquired. Daphne to somehow play violin from the window without breaking into visible hysterics. Hyacinth to oversee “general atmospheric meddling.” Violet was given a very confusing reason to go shopping with the other two Sharmas.

No flaws. No cracks.

Foolproof.

(Obviously.)

And then…it began.

The Execution:

The garden at Aubrey Hall was radiant in the early afternoon light—fragrant with roses, dappled in gold—and suspiciously littered with flower petals.

Edwina Sharma, book in hand, wandered down the path, her brow faintly furrowed at the sudden and excessive floral ambience.

A string of petals curved unnaturally toward the arched trellis. Beneath it stood a bench. Beside the bench stood Lord Lucien Blackbourne. Perfectly posed. Impossibly nonchalant. As if he had merely happened to wander into a romance novel.

Edwina blinked. “My lord. I didn’t expect—”

Lucien turned, the picture of politeness...and mischief barely restrained.

“Miss Sharma,” he said warmly, bowing slightly. “Forgive me. I was lured here by tales of an unusually dramatic hedge.”

From the bushes, Colin fist-pumped in victory.

Edwina smiled, a little puzzled. “It is...picturesque today.”

“I agree,” Lucien said, looking around with faux curiosity. “Quite dramatic use of petals. One might suspect…orchestration.”

From the shrubbery, Gregory hissed, “Abort! He knows!”

Lucien extended an arm like a perfectly rehearsed gentleman. “Shall we walk?”

Edwina, gracious as ever, accepted. “Of course.”

They began to stroll beneath the trellis.

And then—the violin.

A soft, slightly strangled trill from the top window.

Lucien paused mid-step,  head tilted.

“...Was that music?”

Edwina looked around in confusion. “It...sounded like Vivaldi.”

Daphne, from her perch, pretended very hard to be an innocent breeze.

Lucien sighed. Theatrics, then. He knew this game. But he chose—deliberately, tenderly—to play along.

“Not the worst accompaniment for a stroll,” he said, offering his arm.

“I must admit,” he said, glancing sideways at Edwina with mock solemnity, “this is not the first time I have been led into an orchestrated garden rendezvous.”

She laughed softly, “No?”

“No,” he continued. “Though in fairness, the last time involved a chandelier and considerably more fire.”

“You are joking,” she said, amused.

“Regrettably, I am not.”

Edwina tilted her head, watching him with renewed curiosity. “And did that rendezvous go well?”

Lucien smiled slowly. “It ended in scandal. And someone—” he paused, gazing down the path with meaning, “—not me, nearly combusted.”

Edwina blinked. “Do you mean—?”

“I mean,” he interrupted gently, “you should ask her sometime how she survives being near me.”

Behind the hedges, Eloise gasped. Colin fell sideways into Benedict. Hyacinth squeaked.

Elsewhere in the estate…

Anthony, locked in a conversation with Lady Danbury about Yorkshire land values, suddenly froze mid-sentence. His eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched.

Lady Danbury stopped. “Viscount?”

Anthony’s jaw tensed. “I can sense,” he said slowly, like a man piecing together a psychic crime scene, “that something absolutely horrendous is happening. Somewhere.”

Lady Danbury, without missing a beat:

“Well, that’a first. You’re usually the cause.”

Back in the garden…

They wandered past rose beds and dappled sunlight, Lucien spinning increasingly ridiculous tales of scandalous garden mishaps, each more absurd than the last.

Edwina laughed—truly laughed—and for a moment, the ache behind Lucien’s eyes softened.

This, he thought, was kindness.

Not lies.

Not false hope.

Just giving her a bright afternoon to remember.

At the end of the path, he bowed low.

“Miss Sharma,” he said, voice light, “thank you for indulging a scoundrel’s promenade.”

She curtsied, cheeks flushed with amusement. “It was...unexpectedly delightful.”

As she walked back toward the house, her footsteps soft on the absurdly placed petals, Lucien turned toward the hedges.

He said nothing.

Just lifted one sardonic brow.

And from behind the roses, six Bridgertons ducked out of view like guilty rabbits.

The Debrief:

It was not five minutes after Edwina and Lucien had returned from their scenic walk that the Bridgerton siblings reconvened in Benedict’s studio, which had officially become the headquarters for emotionally irresponsible operations.

The room was in a state of mild panic and even milder denial.

Hyacinth paced, clutching her feelings chart. Gregory was under the table again. Colin spooned jam straight from the jar.

“He knew,” Benedict said, collapsing into a chair and dragging a hand through his curls. “He knew from the start.”

Eloise crossed her arms. “Well of course he knew. He’s Lucien Blackbourne. He probably orchestrated it better than we did.”

“He played along,” Colin said, grinning. “Did you see the way he said ‘combust’? It was theatrical. It was almost kind.”

Daphne, standing at the window with a fresh cup of tea and an expression of weary grace, finally said, “It was chaos.”

“Organized chaos,” Hyacinth corrected, holding up her chart. “I had contingency arrows. We executed it perfectly.”

Gregory, muffled from beneath the table: “You put a violin in a bush.”

“I didn’t ask her to play,” Hyacinth snapped.

“You absolutely did,” Daphne called back, unbothered.

Benedict waved a paintbrush in the air. “Look, the important thing is: Edwina smiled. She laughed. She didn’t seem…miserable.”

Colin chimed in. “Lucien didn’t look miserable either. He looked like a man enjoying the role of a lifetime.”

“He indirectly brought up Y/N,” Eloise muttered, still offended. “I mean—what are we even doing here?”

“Saving everyone from heartbreak,” Hyacinth said brightly, twirling her pencil like a wand. “We are preventing emotional collapse.”

Daphne raised her eyebrows. “Are we?”

The room fell uncomfortably quiet.

Hyacinth’s voice dropped, sincere now. “ We just…we just don’t want Anthony to break again. And we don’t want Lucien to get hurt. And we don’t want Y/N to have to choose between them when she looks like it’s already killing her.”

Benedict looked up at that. So did Colin.

Gregory crawled out from under the table, brushing off dust. “So we are doing it because we care.”

Hyacinth nodded. “Exactly. That’s why it’s fine that it’s a little unhinged.”

The door creaked open.

All heads turned as Lucien stepped inside, utterly calm. 

He glanced around the chaos. At the chart. A t the violin case. At the jam jar.

A living crime scene.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t know whether to be flattered or deeply, deeply concerned.”

Colin opened his mouth.

Lucien raised a hand. “Before you ask—yes. I knew. From the first misplaced petal.”

Eloise cursed under her breath.

Hyacinth dropped her pencil.

Lucien stepped further in, hands behind his back, posture regal. Lucien’s mouth curved—fond, faintly sad. “But for what it’s worth...” 

He looked around at their panicked, hopeful faces.

“At least your hearts were in the right place.”

“Did it…work?” Gregory asked timidly.

Lucien tilted his head, then smiled. “Miss Sharma is lovely. Gentle. Kind. Unaware of the minefield around her.” He paused. “But she is not the woman I’m trying to distract myself from.”

Hyacinth looked vaguely betrayed.

Colin muttered, “I knew it.”

Daphne, sipping her tea: “I told you.”

He smiled—rueful, beautiful.

Lucien moved to the door, pausing just before leaving. He looked over his shoulder, amused. “And for what it’s worth...I approved of the chaos.”

With that, Lucien turned and left, the door falling softly shut behind him.

Leaving behind six Bridgertons, one empty jam jar, and the unmistakable sound of hearts being both broken—and mended.

All at once.

A while later—before dinner.

The drawing room was bathed in the soft spill of early evening light, windows flung open to let in the scent of roses and cooling grass. A string quartet could be heard faintly from the distant music room — one of Violet’s efforts to "civilize" the lingering chaos of the Bridgerton Olympics aftermath.

Anthony sat properly on the settee, posture crisp, voice even.

Edwina perched beside him, luminous in pale blue, her smile easy and undemanding.

Across the room, Kate sat with a hoop of embroidery in her lap, though the needle had not moved in several minutes.

They made polite conversation — as they always did.

Books. Politics. The weather. A witticism from Lady Danbury about marriage being a full-contact sport.

Anthony listened, responded, nodded at the right places.

He was the model of a suitor: gracious, attentive, composed.

Only Kate, watching closely, could see the faint tightness at the edges — like a man gripping the rails of a ship in rough seas.

Edwina set down her teacup, tilting her head in a gesture of casual delight.

“I had the most amusing stroll this afternoon,” she said brightly. “With Lord Blackbourne.”

Anthony’s hand did not quite tighten on his own cup.

Not enough for a scene.

But enough for Kate to see it.

“He is rather charming,” Edwina continued with unthinking fondness. “He made me laugh until I nearly dropped my book.”

There was a beat.

And then Anthony — smooth, precise — said, “Lord Blackbourne’s talents seem boundless.”

The words were impeccably polite.

And yet, something snapped under them.

A thread stretched too thin.

Kate’s eyes narrowed slightly over her embroidery.

Edwina, oblivious, laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Though he does have an easy manner. It must be nice to be so…” she searched for the word, “…unbothered by expectation.”

Anthony’s mouth thinned almost imperceptibly.

Kate’s needle finally moved — just once, stabbing the fabric a bit harder than necessary.

Anthony forced a smile. “A rare gift,” he said. “One not afforded to all of us.”

There it was.

A heartbeat too sharp.

A bitterness he hadn’t meant to show.

Edwina, sensing perhaps some shift she could not name, blinked and smoothed her skirts.

Anthony recovered quickly — offered another compliment, asked after her book, redirected with perfect grace.

But the current had shifted.

Kate could feel it in the air.

And then—

The door opened.

And you stepped in.

You paused on the threshold, caught mid-thought — the gentle conversation, the soft laughter, the perfect tableau of courtship unfolding before you.

Anthony turned his head at the same moment.

And for one suspended second —

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

Neither of you smiled.

The space between you was filled with Edwina’s laughter, the whisper of Kate’s embroidery needle, the golden light of a late summer evening.

And something else.

Something heavier.

You looked away first.

Your heart pinched — a strange, soft ache — as you turned, pretending you had only wandered in by accident.

You slipped back through the door before anyone could call after you.

And as you walked down the hall, the voices behind you growing fainter, you thought — not for the first time:

I have Lucien.

Lucien, who makes the world brighter just by standing beside me.

Lucien, who chooses me without hesitation, without fear.

And yet —

Some tiny traitorous part of you still hurt.

Still wondered.

Still whispered:

"Why wasn’t it ever this easy with him?"

A few minutes later…

The gardens behind Aubrey Hall were quieter now.

The chaos of the day had ebbed into a low hum — distant music, occasional laughter carried on the breeze. But here, tucked away near the old marble fountain, the world felt slower. Smaller. Almost manageable.

You sat on the edge of the fountain, fingers trailing absent shapes in the cool water. Your gown caught the last of the sun, gold-threaded and gossamer, but you barely noticed.

Your mind was elsewhere — walking corridors it shouldn’t.

Turning over glances you hadn’t meant to catch.

Words you hadn’t meant to hear.

You closed your eyes, breathing deep.

And then —

A shadow fell across you.

You opened your eyes to find Simon standing a few feet away, hands casually tucked into his pockets, expression open and deceptively light.

"Well," he drawled, voice low and amused, "either you're hiding from Hyacinth’s next plot... or you've finally accepted that the only sane course of action in this house is strategic retreat."

A corner of your mouth lifted, just barely.

"Maybe a bit of both," you murmured.

Simon’s smile deepened — but it was gentle.

He walked over, dropped into a seat beside you, sprawling with the kind of ease only earned by years of surviving Bridgerton-level chaos.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The fountain burbled softly between you. A rose petal floated past your fingers.

Finally, Simon tilted his head to look at you.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I’ve watched armies prepare for less brutal campaigns than what’s brewing inside that house."

You snorted, soft and involuntary.

Simon bumped his shoulder lightly against yours.

"And the funny thing is," he added, "everyone’s so busy guarding their own territory... they've all forgotten to check if the battlefield itself wanted a war."

You went very still.

He wasn’t looking at you — not directly.

But you could feel the weight of the question beneath his casual words.

Are you alright?

Do you want any of this?

Has anyone even asked you?

You stared into the fountain. Watched the ripples distort your reflection.

"I didn’t start it," you said quietly, your voice barely above the whisper of the water.

"But... maybe I didn’t stop it either."

Simon hummed low in his throat — a sound of understanding, not judgment.

"Hard thing, isn’t it?" he said softly. "When the heart wants to be chosen... but doesn’t want to choose."

Your throat tightened unexpectedly.

Simon leaned back, arms stretched lazily across the fountain edge, eyes half-lidded against the setting sun.

"I spoke to Lucien," he said after a moment. "He’s... careful. Trying not to break anything he can’t fix."

"And Anthony?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

Simon’s smile thinned.

"Anthony," he said carefully, "is trying very hard not to want what he’s already halfway lost."

The breeze stirred your hair.

You closed your eyes, swallowing down the messy knot rising in your chest.

Simon’s voice was kinder now. Lower.

"And you," he murmured, "are standing in the middle of all of it — pretending you aren’t bleeding."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

Simon didn’t comment. Didn’t reach for you.

He just... stayed.

Solid. Warm. Quiet.

A tether, in a house spinning out of control.

After a long moment, you wiped your face with the heel of your hand, laughing weakly.

"Hyacinth would call me a tragic heroine," you muttered.

Simon grinned.

"She’d call you an icon," he corrected. "And then she’d start a revolution in your name."

You laughed for real this time — wet and cracked, but real.

Simon bumped your shoulder again, light and familiar.

"No more battles tonight, hmm?" he said, tilting his head. "Let the fools fight themselves into exhaustion. You deserve a little peace."

You nodded, your heart lighter by a fraction.

Simon stood, offering you a hand like a knight out of some battered, chaotic fairytale.

You took it.

And for the first time that day —

You didn’t feel quite so alone.

Back at the house…

The hallway outside the drawing room was steeped in soft golden light.

You barely had time to breathe after Simon left you — an arm of warmth and steadiness escorting you back inside — before you spotted her.

Kate.

Standing by the side table where fresh flowers had been placed, one hand trailing the stem of a rose absently, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

She smiled when she saw you. But it was a quieter smile than usual.

Almost…weighted.

You approached, careful not to startle whatever strange peace was holding the air between you.

“Miss Sharma,” you greeted, voice soft.

She chuckled — but the sound didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“We are past such formalities, are we not?”

You smiled, heart squeezing with unexpected affection. “Kate.”

She nodded once. “May I have a word?”

You glanced toward the drawing room — where Anthony and Edwina still lingered — and back again.

“Of course.”

Kate hesitated.

The sunlight caught the side of her face, outlining the determined tilt of her chin — the same stubborn set you recognized in yourself sometimes.

The one that masked fear with duty.

She folded her arms lightly.

Not confrontational.

Protective.

“Forgive me if I overstep,” she said.

“But I am…concerned.”

Your throat tightened before your mind even caught up.

Concerned.

Not accusing.

Not blaming.

Just concerned.

“For Edwina?” you asked quietly.

Kate’s gaze flickered — just for a breath — before steadying.

“She is…young. Sweet. She believes in love stories.”

A beat.

“She believes Anthony might be hers.”

You pressed your hands together, fingers tight against the fabric of your skirts, anchoring yourself.

“I know,” you whispered. “I have seen it.”

Kate watched you carefully.

Weighing. Measuring.

“And you?” she asked.

It was not a cruel question.

It was a terrifying one.

You forced a smile, felt it tremble at the edges.

“I am only here to help them, Kate. That was always my intention.”

You tried to laugh lightly. “It is supposed to be them. Everyone has said so. Violet asked me to help him find happiness. And he seems to have found it — with Edwina.”

Kate didn’t correct you.

Didn’t soften.

Only looked at you for a long, terrible moment —a woman who understood how easily duty could turn into sacrifice.

And then, gently:

“You may have convinced yourself, Miss Y/N,” she said. “But you have not convinced the room.”

Your heart stuttered.

Kate stepped closer — not menacing, not unkind — but unflinching.

“I have seen the way Anthony looks at you,” she murmured.

“And I have seen the way you look at him — when you believe no one is watching.”

You inhaled sharply.

Kate shook her head, almost ruefully. “I am not here to accuse you. You have been nothing but gracious. Loyal.”

A faint smile.

“But sometimes…being good is not enough to change the truth.”

The words thudded against your ribs.

You opened your mouth.

Closed it.

Kate’s voice softened.

“He is trying, you know. Trying so hard to be the man Edwina deserves. Trying to be…safe.”

The word safe twisted something inside you.

Safe. Stable. Predictable.

Everything Anthony thought he owed the world.

Not what set his soul alight.

Not what made his hands tremble when he brushed yours by accident.

You swallowed, fighting down the ache.

“I would never hurt Edwina,” you said fiercely.

“I would never hurt Anthony.”

Kate’s eyes, dark and wise, seemed to see everything you didn’t want her to see.

“I know.”

Silence bloomed between you.

Then — softer, almost kind:

“You will not have to choose, Miss Y/N,” Kate said. “Fate will do it for you. One way or another.”

And with that, she pressed a light hand to your forearm —a gesture that somehow felt like both warning and blessing —and slipped away down the hall, leaving you alone in the golden dusk.

You stood there, heart hammering, the taste of unspoken things heavy on your tongue.

From the nearby parlor, you could still hear Edwina laughing.

You could still hear Anthony’s low, careful voice.

And for the first time, you realized that loving someone quietly might still tear the world apart.

Even if you never spoke the words.

Even if you never touched.

Even if you did everything right.

The hallway was empty now.

Kate's words still echoed behind your ribs —sharp, soft, inevitable.

You turned, meaning to leave the weight of Kate’s words behind you,

only to find someone already waiting near the open door.

Lucien.

He wasn’t looking at you at first.

He was studying the wainscoting like it had said something mildly offensive, hands loosely folded behind his back, jacket rumpled just enough to suggest he'd abandoned stiffness somewhere along the way.

When he heard your step, he glanced up —and for a moment —something flickered.

Quick.

Real.

Gone in a blink.

By the time you met his eyes, Lucien was smiling.

Not broadly.

Not falsely.

But with the kind of lightness a man crafts when he knows the weight isn’t yours to carry.

"Angel," he said, voice warm and easy, like a hand smoothing down a storm. "You survived the parlour gauntlet. Should I summon a laurel wreath?"

You breathed out a sound — not quite a laugh, but close enough.

Lucien stepped closer, casually —close enough that if the world were kinder, he could have reached for your hand without thinking.

But he didn’t touch you.

He just tipped his head — playful, careful — as though offering you the choice.

"Or are we at the stage where only brandy can save the day?"

You smiled weakly. "I might be tempted."

His mouth curved — soft, conspiratorial.

Still easy.

Still safe.

"Tempted, Angel?" he said lightly. "You wound me. I thought we were long past temptation. You know I’d orchestrate a scandalous escape for you without even wrinkling my cravat."

You laughed then, real and low — the sound of it surprising even yourself.

Lucien’s gaze warmed further —as if the world, for all its fractures, could still be pieced together when you smiled.

And even though the moment was fragile —even though something heavy still twisted under your ribs —Lucien kept the air between you weightless.

He gestured toward the open door with an exaggerated bow.

"Shall we, Angel?" he said, voice full of velvet mischief. "The night awaits. And so, I imagine, does another round of artfully polite chaos."

You hesitated — just for a second.

Lucien noticed.

Of course he did.

But he didn’t ask.

Didn’t press.

He just offered you his arm — a perfect, unspoken shield.

You took it —and he tucked you against his side with a familiarity that didn’t demand anything.

Didn’t claim anything.

And with that, you walked back inside — together.

Taglist: @bollzinurmouth @drewstarkeysrightarm @thorins-queen-of-erebor @yearninglustfully @khaleesibeach @ifilwtmfc

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1720

The One I Want Masterlist

---

Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 

In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 

It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 

“So I was thinking,” he says. 

You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.

His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”

That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 

There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 

But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 

“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”

You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 

“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”

“What?”

His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 

“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”

—

It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 

“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”

Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”

Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”

“Not so much, no.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”

You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 

Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 

“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 

Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 

Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 

You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”

He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”

When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 

“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”

With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 

He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”

Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”

“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”

“No.”

“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”

Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”

Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 

Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”

“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”

There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.

After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines. 

When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 

It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 

“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 

Your eyes snap up. 

The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 

You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”

---

A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe

[gemsofgreece]

Mycenaean Greek

(and examples of lexical evolution to Modern Greek)

Mycenaean Greek is the most ancient attested form of the Greek language (16th to 12th centuries BC). The language is preserved in inscriptions of Linear B, a script first attested on Crete before the 14th century BC. The tablets long remained undeciphered and many languages were suggested for them until Michael Ventris, building on the extensive work of Alice Kober, deciphered the script in 1952. This turn of events has made Greek officially the oldest recorded living language in the world.

What does this mean though? Does it mean that a Modern Greek could speak to a resurrected Mycenaean Greek and have an effortless chat? Well obviously not. But we are talking about the linear evolution of one single language (with its dialects) throughout time that was associated with one ethnic group, without any parallel development of other related languages falling in the same lingual branch whatsoever.

Are we sure it was Greek though? At this point, yes, we are. Linguists have found in Mycenaean Greek a lot of the expected drops and innovations that individualised the Hellenic branch from the mother Proto-Indo-European language (PIE). In other words, it falls right between PIE and Archaic Greek and resembles what Proto-Greek is speculated to have been like. According to Wikipedia, Mycenaean Greek had already undergone all the sound changes particular to the Greek language.

Why was it so hard to decipher Linear B and understand it was just very early Greek? Can an average Greek speaker now read Linear B? No. An average Greek speaker cannot read Linear B unless they take into account and train themselves on certain rules and peculiarities that even took specialized linguists ages to realise and get used to. Here's the catch: Linear B was a script inspired by the Minoan Linear A, both of which were found in the Minoan speaking Crete. (Minoan Linear A inscriptions have yet to be deciphered and we know nothing about them.) The Mycenaeans (or was it initially the Minoans???) made only minimal modifications to produce the Linear B script and used it exclusively for practical purposes, namely for accounting lists and inventories. Linear B however was an ideographic and syllabic script that stemmed from a script that originally was not designed to render the Mycenaean Greek language, and thus it could not do it perfectly. In other words, the script itself does not render the Greek words accurately which is what made it extremely hard even for the linguists to decipher these inscriptions. Due to its limited use for utility and not for prose, poetry or any other form of expression, the Mycenaean Greeks likely did not feel compelled to modify the script heavily into some more appropriate, accurate form to cover the language's needs.

Examples of the script's limitations:

I won't mention them all but just to give you an idea that will help you then read the words more easily:

In the syllabic script Linear B, all syllable symbols starting with a consonant obligatorily have a vowel following - they are all open sylllables without exception. Linear B can NOT render two consonants in a row which is a huge handicap because Greek absolutely has consonants occuring in a row. So, in many cases below, you will see that the vowel in the script is actually fake, it did not exist in the actual language, and I might use a strikethrough to help you out with this.

For the same reason, when there are consonants together, at least one of them is often casually skipped in Linear B!

There were no separate symbols for ρ (r) and λ (l). As a result, all r and l sounds are rendered with the r symbol.

Exactly because many Greek words end in σ, ς (sigma), ν (ni), ρ (rho) but in Linear B consonants must absolutely be followed by a vowel, a lot of time the last letter of the words is skipped in the script!

Voiced, voiceless and aspirate consonants all use the same symbols, for example we will see that ka, ha, gha, ga all are written as "ka". Pa, va, fa (pha), all are written as "pa". Te, the are written as "te".

There are numerous other limitations but also elements featured that were later dropped from the Greek language, i.e the semivowels, j, w, the digamma, the labialized velar consonants [ɡʷ, kʷ, kʷʰ], written ⟨q⟩, which are sometimes successfully represented with Linear B. However, that's too advanced for this post. I only gave some very basic, easy guidelines to help you imagine in your mind what the word probably sounded like and how it relates to later stages of Greek, and modern as is the case here. That's why I am also using simpler examples and more preserved vocabulary and no words which include a lot of these early elements which were later dropped or whose decoding is still unclear.

Mycenaean Linear B to Modern Greek vocabulary examples:

a-ke-ro = άγγελος (ágelos, angel. Notice how the ke symbol is representing ge, ro representing lo and the missing ending letter. So keep this in mind and make the needed modifications in your mind with the following examples. Also, angel actually means "messenger", "announcer". In the Christian context, it means "messenger from God", like angels are believed to be. So, that's why it exists in Mycenaean Greek and not because Greeks invented Christianity 15 centuries before Jesus was born XD )

a-ki-ri-ja = άγρια (ághria, wild, plural neuter. Note the strikethrough for the nonexistent vowel)

a-ko-ro = αγρός (aghrós, field)

a-ko-so-ne = άξονες (áksones, axes)

a-na-mo-to = ανάρμοστοι (anármostoi, inappropriate, plural masculine. Note the skipped consonants in the script)

a-ne-mo = ανέμων (anémon, of the winds)

a-ne-ta = άνετα (áneta, comfortable, plural neuter, an 100% here, well done Linear B!)

a-po-te-ra = αμφότερες (amphóteres, or amphóterae in more Archaic Greek, both, plural feminine)

a-pu = από (apó, from)

a-re-ka-sa-da-ra = Αλεξάνδρα (Alexandra)

de-de-me-no = (δε)δεμένο (ðeðeméno, tied, neuter, the double de- is considered too old school, archaic now)

do-ra = δώρα (ðóra, gifts)

do-ro-me-u = δρομεύς (ðroméfs, dromeús in more Archaic Greek, runner)

do-se = δώσει (ðósei, to give, third person singular, subjunctive)

e-ko-me-no = ερχόμενος (erkhómenos, coming, masculine)

e-mi-to = έμμισθο (émmistho, salaried, neuter)

e-ne-ka = ένεκα (éneka, an 100%, thanks to, thanks for)

e-re-mo = έρημος (érimos, could be pronounced éremos in more Archaic Greek, desert)

e-re-u-te-ro-se = ελευθέρωσε (elefthérose, liberated/freed, simple past, third person)

e-ru-to-ro = ερυθρός (erythrós, red, masculine)

e-u-ko-me-no = ευχόμενος (efkhómenos or eukhómenos in more Archaic Greek, wishing, masculine)

qe = και (ke, and)

qi-si-pe-e = ξίφη (xíphi, swords)

i-je-re-ja = ιέρεια (iéreia, priestess)

ka-ko-de-ta = χαλκόδετα (και όχι κακόδετα!) (khalkóðeta, bound with bronze, plural neuter)

ke-ka-u-me-no = κεκαυμένος (kekafménos, kekauménos in more Archaic Greek, burnt, masculine)

ke-ra-me-u = κεραμεύς (keraméfs, kerameús in more Archaic Greek, potter)

ki-to = χιτών (khitón, chiton)

ko-ri-to = Κόρινθος (kórinthos, Corinth)

ku-mi-no = κύμινο (kýmino, cumin)

ku-pa-ri-se-ja = κυπαρίσσια (kyparíssia, cypress trees)

ku-ru-so = χρυσός (khrysós, gold)

ma-te-re = μητέρα (mitéra, mother)

me-ri = μέλι (méli, honey)

me-ta = μετά (metá, after / post)

o-ri-ko = ολίγος (olíghos, little amount, masculine)

pa-ma-ko = φάρμακο (phármako, medicine)

pa-te = πάντες (pántes, everybody / all)

pe-di-ra = πέδιλα (péðila, sandals)

pe-ko-to = πλεκτό (plektó, woven, neuter)

pe-ru-si-ni-wo = περυσινό / περσινό (perysinó or persinó, last year's, neuter)

po-me-ne = ποιμένες (poiménes, shepherds)

po-ro-te-u = Πρωτεύς (Proteus)

po-ru-po-de = πολύποδες (polýpoðes, multi-legged, plural)

ra-pte = ράπτες (ráptes, tailors)

ri-me-ne = λιμένες (liménes, ports)

ta-ta-mo = σταθμός (stathmós, station)

te-o-do-ra = Θεοδώρα (Theodora)

to-ra-ke = θώρακες (thórakes, breastplates)

u-po = υπό (ypó, under)

wi-de = είδε (íðe, saw, simple past, third person singular)

By the way it's killing me that I expected the first words to be decoded in an early civilisation would be stuff like sun, moon, animal, water but we got shit like inappropriate, salaried and station XD

Sources:

gistor.gr

Greek language | Wikipedia

Mycenaean Greek | Wikipedia

Linear B | Wikipedia

John Angelopoulos

Image source

[kittttycakes]

I'll take Dreamling with #8 in secrecy because i'm curious of where that could go 👀

Please enjoy this vaguely heist-y AU!

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Hob said with a smile, aiming for charming and casual and only succeeding on one count. He leaned against the bar next to Dream, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, if only for something to do with his hands. Something about the other man made him nervous, threw his decades of professional experience out the nearest window so that it lay, writhing, on the sidewalk, far from him.

Dream, as stunning as ever in a sleek black-on-black suit, took a drink of his wine before setting the near full glass down. He thought he saw the hint of a smile, hiding at the edges of his lips. “Have we met before?” he asked instead, that all too familiar, somnolent voice too close to Hob’s ear to be strictly polite.

If that was the game he wanted to play, Hob could go along with him. “Only in my dreams,” he replied with a wink. That earned him something that might have been a laugh, if Dream had let it develop. As it was, Hob recognized an amused huff of air when he heard one, especially when it came from Dream.

He startled slightly when Dream took his elbow, steering him away from the open bar and back towards the floor of the exhibit hall. It had taken more than a few strings pulled for Hob’s name to be added to the guest list; the museum had increased security since the last time he had set foot in it, and it had taken rather more of Johanna’s skills than it had before, but she had pulled it off: Hob’s name appeared on the guest list as one of the highest tier donors of the year. It was only natural that he should be invited. In three hours, all records of his chosen pseudonym for the evening would disappear. He would never have existed. For the moment, however—

Dream was pulling him through the hall, walking at a pace that would not arouse any kind of suspicion: two men, having a friendly walk through the exhibit, the light refracting through an inconceivable amount of gemstones and gold, platinum, and silver. He took a sharp turn, taking Hob with him, disappearing behind a column and then down a corridor that Hob had mentally designated as a possible exit route if his first four choices failed.

It was only when they were out of earshot of anyone else, and decidedly out of range of any cameras, firmly hidden in a dead spot that Johanna had specifically noted for him, that Dream spoke to him again.

“I’m afraid you and I are after the same target,” he said in that same steady, even tone. “I would advise you to pick a new one.”

Hob nearly laughed. As if it were that simple. He had a buyer lined up for specific pieces, which Dream undoubtedly knew. He was in the same position, although Hob could never be sure of just how much their particular circumstances overlapped.

“And what target would that be?” he asked lightly, watching Dream’s face in the dim light of the service hallway.

“I do not care what else you spirit away, but that ruby is mine.”

He hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious, and he nearly said as much before thinking better of it.

“Ask me for anything else and it’s yours, love, but that’s the one thing I cannot do,” Hob replied, not without genuine regret. His job was regrettably lonely, his only real point of contact Johanna, and whoever pulled her strings was a complete mystery to him. Being a contract for hire specialist had its advantages and disadvantages, and the solitary nature of the work was both at once. It was a miracle that he had ever even met Dream, let alone run into him on more than one occasion. It should not have happened at all, and yet they kept colliding, showing up where the other least expected it. He didn’t even know if Dream was, like himself, working for someone else, or if this was all for his own gain. He could picture him, surrounded by beautiful things like a dragon in its hoard.

When Dream did not respond, Hob continued, recklessly, “This is it for me. I’m out of the game after this, getting too old for it. Can’t botch the last run, can I?”

“You’re retiring?” Dream asked, amusement coloring his voice.

“Something like that. Need to lay low for awhile, might go on holiday. I’d invite you to join me, but—”

“Men like you do not simply give up, Hob Gadling,” Dream said, and Hob froze. He had never, not once, told the other man his actual name, not even during the very memorable weekend they had spent in a penthouse suite in Paris after having independently taken more than €1 million worth of art from a well established and taste making gallery. A relatively low take for both of them, but it had been rather fun. Johanna didn’t even know his name, and certainly not his nickname.

“Seems a little unfair that you have my name and I don’t have yours.” He had little doubt that Dream was an alias, and had never minded that he didn’t know what he might be called otherwise, until that very moment.

Dream smiled slightly. “Perhaps I might give it to you in exchange for your assurance that you will not attempt to take what is mine.”

“It isn’t quite yours yet, though, is it? Really, Dream, I would love to, but the buyer that’s lined up for it is rather keen on it and nothing else, if you take my meaning.”

“I am afraid your buyer must prepare to be disappointed.”

“We’ll see,” Hob said lightly, smoothing one hand down the front of Dream’s lapel. “Lovely seeing you again. I’m sure we’ll do this again soon?”

“Sooner than you might imagine.” As quickly as he had led Hob away, Dream disappeared, slipping further down the hall into the less lit shadows. He thought briefly of going after him before dismissing it; he had his own concerns, and the clock was starting very soon.

-

Hob did not see Dream when he stepped quietly out into the now empty exhibit hall. He had a finite window in which the entire camera system would be run on a loop: Johanna had promised him three minutes, and he was confident he could manage it in two and a half. She had assured him that the alarm system would be temporarily disabled during this window, but Hob never took such things for granted. He had mapped out no less than seven potential exit routes, should he be interrupted, and had timed each to ensure he knew which would be fastest.

His secondary targets could wait. Best to start with the biggest and work his way down. The ruby sat in its own case, nestled in a bed of black velvet. It was uncut, the dull color of dried blood, and as large as his fist. When he carefully picked it up, it flashed with a hidden fire: it could be stunning, in the hands of the right jeweler, crafted to exquisite perfection. Hob dropped it in one of many silk lined pockets, and moved on.

He had added two paired sapphires and a pigeon egg sized opal to his take when he saw the first hint of movement out of the corner of his eye. Hob turned, alert, only to see Dream, still dressed in his suit from the gala, leaning against the empty display case and watching him intently.

His voice echoed in the empty hall. “You’re certain I cannot convince you to part with that ruby?”

Hob had one minute and forty-five seconds left. “I’m sure you’re very convincing, love. But I’m afraid not.”

“A pity,” Dream said, standing up. “I would very much have liked to try. And I don’t imagine I’ll see you again?”

One minute and thirty-two seconds. Hob smiled, a little sadly. He would have rather liked to see him again. “I don’t imagine you will.”

“In that case,” Dream began, crossing the little space between them with a speed and grace that Hob should have expected, but somehow never did.

One minute and twenty-seven seconds. This was somehow both the most exposed and the most private place that they had ever kissed. Hob could mentally catalogue them all: pressed against the wall on a darkened side street in Madrid, laying back against the ridiculous sheets of the king size bed in the Paris penthouse, in the back room of a club in Monte Carlo—this was different. It felt different; it felt like the most important thing in the world, a moment just for the two of them, in secret, in the middle of the museum floor.

Hob had lost count of the time by the time Dream’s mouth left his. For a moment, that had been all that mattered. He would be sad to see him go.

Abruptly, three very important things happened in quick succession: there was a faint shuffling, the sound of feet in non-slip shoes walking down a tiled hallway and the distant thud of a door swinging closed on its own; Dream nearly disappeared, passing through the room like a shadow in a direction that Hob had never considered and idly wondered how exactly he planned to leave by it; and a soft red light began flashing in the case nearest to him as the system armed itself once again. It was past time to go.

Hob was, he could admit, very, very good at his job. He exited the museum entirely without incident, making it back to the flat he was currently using as his home base without being seen or followed. After ensuring that the rooms were still secure, he at last allowed himself to relax, only slightly. He sat at the table, and began to empty his pockets. The opal had survived in perfect condition; he had been concerned that it could be damaged, as relatively soft as it was, but it caught the low light of the flat in its smooth surface, perfectly whole. The sapphires, unsurprisingly, were also intact; he knew he would see them dangling from the earlobes of some minor princess or billionaire’s wife within a month, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

He had deliberately left the ruby for last; everything else, even missing the yellow diamond he was meant to have taken, was infinitesimally small compared to it. He withdrew it, and nearly laughed.

In his palm sat a paperweight of the approximate size and shape of the ruby, along with a small, folded piece of paper. He hadn’t even noticed Dream’s hand move, hadn’t felt a thing as he had, clearly, made the exchange. He set the paperweight down, and unfolded the note.

Hob had not been expecting an apology. What he received was a command: Burn after reading. What followed, in sharp, spidery handwriting, was an address in, of all places, Wales. The note was signed with a capital M. It wasn’t quite a name, but it would do.

He stood, leaving the gemstones on the table. He had so much to do: a bag to pack, travel plans to make, a note to burn. Hob had wanted to go on holiday. He was certain Wales would be lovely.

Send me a kiss prompt!

[tossawary]

Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.

But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?

Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.

Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.

Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.

I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)

But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!

Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.

[nikethestatue]

So even you agree that the light singer hints are vague. Most casual readers don't pick up on any light singer hints even though they've read the books multiple times. Sarah said she left breadcrumbs in the bonus chapter. She knew what she was doing when she put both of those interactions back to back. The Gwyn part of the bonus chapter was much more positive and lighthearted than his interaction with Elain. Sarah also loves her banter. Ending the bonus with Azriel feeling a spark in his chest and thinking about the image of Gwyn's joy as a thing of secret, lovely beauty is romantic foreshadowing.

I'm not surprised that you guys are so threatened by that bonus chapter. It's no wonder you feel the need to tell an artist to draw the Gwyn part with light singer hints, because without it you'd have to admit that Gwyn could be Azriel's mate.

All jokes aside, this has always been Gwynriels' fundamental problem. You don't read between the lines and it's all about low hanging fruit with you.

You are incredibly literal.

Your willingness to only be literal will be the undoing of GA. Because the issue is that you've never been able to come up with an actual plot for the book.

You pick and choose whatever you like from one book only, which is ACOSF, because that's the only place where Gwyn is found. You ignore the larger themes of the series. You've listened to your GA gurus who could barely come up with a coherent possibility of a plot, which again, doesn't really need Gwyn (taking about the fantastic Illyrian plot) and has absolutely nothing to do with where SJM has been taking the series--in fact, multiple series now.

We wrote metas--in fact one of my very few posts has been about Dusk--back in 2021. Where has SJM been driving everything--towards Dusk. In ACOSF, and in HOFAS of course.

Where did you guys veer towards? The (non existent) Illyrian plot.

Your predictive track record is terrible.

You know why LS is not 'visible' to others--because it's a placeholder, like I said before. It's something that SJM's been toying with and may not pick up at all. Why? Because the storyline isn't important enough.

Shockingly, you fixated on the bonus chapter, completely disregarding everything else that she wrote. As for threatened--no, why would be? it only confirmed Elriel. To all those who doubt it. You know what it didn't confirm? Gwynriel. Because if people didn't pick up on the LS thing, as you say, they didn't pick up on Gwynriel even more. BUT, unlike you, we can exist without the bonus. It doesn't make a fundamental difference in the ship. For you, it's all you got.

Again, this will be your downfall.

You know it. I know it.

It's fun to banter with you, but you know, deep down, that Gwynriel, as a concept that was written by the author simply doesn't exist. You can dance around the fact all you want, it's fine. But you know it just as well as I do that there will never be any Gwynriel anything. The book will be about Elain, Az and Lucien. And Vassa.

The one singular problem with everything GA related is simple: YOU HAVE NO PLOT.

Even Elucien has a plot. GA, does not. And that, you cannot change.

[raxistaicho]

Getting angry at Angrynon

Hey all! Recently, Fewix Fwadawius Emblem Xeno got an anon ask outlining some of Fire Emblem Fates' depth. Normally, I wouldn't have cared about this (Fates is a guilty pleasure of mine), except that anon also took the time to start randomly laying into Three Houses. And I certainly can't let that stand!

It doesn't exactly help that Xeno gets... really aggressive, angry anon asks all the time, tinged with enormous Casual Elitism in the gameplay department in particular. Also, I haven't done a longpost in a while, so I thought this was a great time to get back into the swing of it :)

Full post under the cut, 'cause this gets pretty long:

I thought on your discussion of the parallels and how much Fates relies on there being subtext to talk about the story in-depth and how much relies on being willing to interact with the story and the cast,

This is a fairly recent claim I've seen from defenders of Fates' story, that it's actually so #Deep that people just missed it. Who cares that we don't know where the countries' borders end, look at all that symbolism. This is convenient, since you don't have to actually defend a point that purports to be self-evident by its very nature, and it also lets you big yourself up as some sort of intellectual for noticing it, while simultaneously tearing opponents down as missing the point.

Furthermore, without any corroborating evidence from the devs, this definitionally cannot be anything more than headcannon on the part of fans to patch up the writers' fumbles. It's no different from fans of the Prequel trilogies trying to justify the writing of Padme and Anakin's relationship for George Lucas.

and then I look at how 3H and even Awakening are overall more popular.

And Xeno and his ilk remain very bitter about it to this day! I don't love how people like Tales of Vesperia more than Tales of Berseria, but I haven't dedicated my life to tearing down Vesperia.

3H especially, which irks me because 3H is about as discordant and downright anarchic as a story can get with nothing of value to say about things that aren't mealy-mouthed apologetics for its characters who are in the wrong, and yet it gets all the credit because it's delivered better.

Yup, Three Houses has no message and is bad because it doesn't condemn the Bad Red Lady enough, is anyone surprised? Fire Emblem stories, especially from the GBA era onward, had always been about a Bad Person causing the war pretty much single-handedly. Zephiel, Lyon, Ashnard, Sephiran behind Ashnard, Anankos. Three Houses tries to show how the war was bigger than simply Edelgard and her ambitions, and her haters predictably got furious about it. She might have pulled the trigger, but it only happened because of the foundation of Fodlan's deep corruption within the aristocracy and the clergy.

Fates really is a story that's excellent yet delivered in quite possibly one of the worst ways imaginable to audiences,

A story terribly conveyed is a terrible story. End of.

which is frustrating given people have been pretty consistently dismissive of anyone who points out these depths do exist and that it's apparently just being "cliche" despite the sentiments all interconnecting?

Spoiler... but these "depths" are just standard Eastern media setting cliches.

Like, Fates has an absolutely massive amount of parallels, symbolism and themes.

Anon's gonna share some soon. It won't go well for them.

It doesn't need a name for the continent even, because it makes itself clear through visual context, subtext and clues throughout the story how much everything interconnects into a bigger story that genuinely means it when it says both sides of the conflict are victims in a terrible, pointless war, and ties into its bathos, ethos and logos flawlessly.

A war one of those "victims" initiated unprovoked upon the other. It's rich how often Xeno and his anons will scream about Fates whitewashing Edelgard just to turn around and whitewash Nohr.

"But the royal family is just so SAD :("

Also, ethos and logos, fine, but bathos?

Fates starts off with a lofty tone that suddenly descends into absurdity?

I think anon used the term in the sense that it's the Greek word for "depth", but that's not the way the term is used with regards to literary analysis. This really just makes anon come across as pretentious, in my opinion.

Also, back to the point on the name. The usual argument is that Fateslandia doesn't have a name because Hoshido and Nohr have only ever been at war with each other, so they never collaborated to make a name for it. Even if I believed that statement, for which there isn't much support, wouldn't the two kingdoms logically have their own names for the continent? And you can't just argue they call the continent "Hoshido" and "Nohr" because Hoshido and Nohr aren't the only two countries in the land, or even the only ones on their own sides of the Bottomless Canyon.

Hell, a little known fact that illustrates what I mean: Fire Emblem Fates takes a lot from Chinese geomancy as a whole. I mean, straight from TV Tropes: If one catches the connection to the First Dragons' power in the Dragon Veins and their relation to the practice of Feng Shui, it becomes readily apparent why Azura, the Avatar, Anankos, and other associates of Valla have such a strong water motif. One of the central ideas behind Feng Shui is that among the parts of nature making up the world, Chi (analogous to Dragon Vein power) flows best in water (shui). It also ties in with why Takumi is so powerful when possessed by Anankos that he becomes a Final Boss: second to water, the next best part of nature to gather and read the flow of chi is the Fujin Yumi's element, wind (feng).

It's very easy to miss, but the symbols that appear when you activate a Dragon Vein aren't made-up.

Anon's going to continue on for a while, but yes, they're based on the Four Gods, a frequently recurring motif in Eastern media. So frequently recurring, in fact, that Three Houses has shades of them too in the four saints of the Church of Seiros.

They actually represent the Fire Dragon, Ground Dragon, Water Dragon and Wind Dragon among the First Dragons; the Fire Dragon represents an avian bird of some kind and is depicted as destroying structures and being strengthened by nature,

When Anon says "nature", he means wood. Also, the literal first time we see the Fire Dragon in action, it's when it evaporates the river in the prologue, and then when we see it again in ch4 it's used to melt the snow mountains. Rivers and snow aren't structures, and in the Chinese element wheel, water's supposed to restrain fire, not the other way around.

the Ground Dragon represents a felid-like creature who can warp the ground around it to move nature while being strengthened by the earth,

Byakko, the White Tiger, represents the element of metal, not earth. The Ground Dragon controls the ground when summoned via Dragon Vein, but in Feng Shui, earth creates metal, metal doesn't have control over the earth. Metal strengthens (or creates, I've seen both used) water and restrains wood, but the Ground Dragon is called upon to control the earth, not to make water or influence weather, trees, or air currents.

the Water Dragon is a tortoise wrapped around a snake and responsible for the manipulation or receding of water and also putting out flames and is given shape by metal,

Genbu indeed represents water, but Byakko represents metal, and anon failed to explain any link between them in the context of Fates.

Also, it's "responsible for the manipulation or receding of water," except in the prologue, where the Fire Dragon evaporates the river, or in Conquest chapter 10, where Takumi quite famously uses the Wind Dragon to pull back the tide and expose the lower levels.

It does, however, melt the ice lake in conquest chapter 8, though if we were being consistent you'd think the Fire Dragon would do that. Also, water in the Chinese elements restrains fire, but the Fire Dragon is used to control the flames in Revelation chapter 16 when you'd think the Water Dragon would do that. Also, the Water Dragon is never used to create trees.

and the Wind Dragon is a Eastern dragon who represents using wind to control the physical spaces around it while being strengthened by water.

Wind is not a Chinese element. Seiryū represents wood. Also it seems more to me like the Wind Dragon beats water, rather than getting strengthened by it, but no, wood restrains earth, not water, yet Takumi uses the Wind Dragon's influence to overcome the goddamn ocean.

If one hasn't caught on, not only is this is exactly what The Four Gods represents — respectively Suzaku, Byakko, Genbu and Seiryu — but it's also the fundamental principles as reflected in game of what element strengthens which

I wish Anon would list some examples of these elements strengthening one another in the context of Fates specifically, because while I do know how the elements link to one another in the context of the five Chinese elements, Anon hasn't really done much other than assert that they're related to the Four Dragons in some way. And as I've pointed out a few times, Fates doesn't properly convey those relations.

and what element controls the other in Feng Shui!

Except Anon failed to show how the elements relate to one another. The reality is the elemental dragons are generally just used in a rather rpg way, doing what you'd generally expect to see from the elements in action. The four dragons don't properly relate to the elements they're supposed to, going by their visual appearances and how they relate to the Four Gods, nor do they interact with each other's elements in the way they're supposed to.

This is what we call window dressing, not depth. It's not dissimilar to how Three Houses uses the Major Tarot to represent the various Crests, except Three Houses at least had the Crest bearers' stories or personalities relate to the Tarot associated with their Crest.

Justice, for instance, is represented by the Crest of Blaiddyd, and is about balance, accountability, and reflection for your actions throughout your life. This perfectly relates to Dimitri's story.

The existence of Anankos completes this by giving an extra trifecta to the five sacred weapons and his role with the other dragons.

A trifecta is three things, not five.

Takumi's weapon obviously represents Wind,

Once again, wind is not an element in the Chinese elements. I guess you could argue it's associated with wood, but it's not an element in and of itself.

while Ryoma's Raijinto is actually tied to Fire in Feng Shui,

...No, it's tied to thunder. It's right there in the name, Raijinto, meaning literally "thunder god sword".

while Xander's dark sword represents the winter and is tied to Water,

No, how is it tied to water? He attacks using waves of darkness.

while Leo's ability to manipulate the earth and gravity is tied to Metal.

Brynhildr manipulates wood, Leo creates a grove of trees when he attacks with it! Metal restrains wood (by cutting it down). And, AGAIN, Metal doesn't manipulate earth in the Chinese elements, and also earth and wood are separate elements! Anon's being incredibly sloppy with his wording.

And meanwhile, at the center of it all is Yato — and what does Anankos and Valla represent?

I thought they represented water? Anon said so themself in the intro to this section, Anankos, Corrin, and Valla have a strong water motif.

A land below the ground and the center of the Earth, and represents the land below. And then you realize Earth controls Water... then you recognize how not only is Anankos represents Earth and is Kohryu,

Except the Ground Dragon is the one shown to have power over the earth (despite referencing the White Tiger, which represents Metal, which shouldn't have power over earth), while Anankos has power over water. Also, the Water Dragon also has power over water, but only sometimes.

but also makes literally all of the rest of the five elements fall into place with it as a direct result.

Sure, chief.

So to summarize:

Brynhildr is metal because it controls earth (even though it creates trees, meaning wood), so by anon's logic, element A which, in the Chinese elements is strengthened by element B, controls element B. Gotcha.

Siegfried is water... presumably because anon says so. They don't even try to justify this one. Also, Siegfried is never used to control metal or water, it controls darkness.

Fujin Yumi is wind, (which isn't a Chinese element), because it controls... wind. Wouldn't Brynhildr control metal if it's supposed to be metal? By the logic Anon established with the Brynhildr, Fujin Yumi should represent fire because it controls wind, which I guess you could loosely associate with wood. Also, we now have two sets of standards: Brynhildr logic means an element controls that element which strengthens it, and Fujin Yumi logic means an element controls only its own element. Neither logic is consistent with the Chinese elemental wheel, mind you.

Raijinto is fire, also because anon says so. It also doesn't control wood.

And lastly, Yato is earth, even though it never displays earth powers (Fujin Yumi logic) or fire powers (Brynhildr logic)

God, if I had a nickel for every time I had to dissect a tortured Chinese Elements argument, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice, right?

What's maddening is that the game routinely displays this kind of foresight and depth throughout the story and how each of the narratives details all check out, the logos, pathos and ethos each.

Anon threw out the baby with the bathos water.

"Why is it that Garon is so cartoonishly evil?" Because he's a literal warped parody of a dragon god that has been isolated for thousands of years after having committed genocide on his own people, maddened into misanthropy and thus not quite knowing how to behave like a human being;

Nobody's asking why Garon is cartoonishly evil, they just say it's shit writing that he is.

the Nohrian royals know something is very wrong with Garon, they're just too scared to confront the issue due to their once-noble father being turned into such a horrible monster.

So they're a pack of cowards. What heroes!

"Why is it that Iago and Hans are even allowed to do what they do?" Because Garon - and by extension, Anankos's - whole goal is to destroy the world. Having two psychopaths run it to the ground would be an excellent way to hasten that process.

Nobody's asking why they're allowed to do what they do, people just say they suck as villains, because they do.

"Why is it that Hoshido is so pacifistic and Mikoto so perfect?". Because it isn't; it was a warrior culture that had conquered just like Hoshido (the Great Wall of Suzanoh is just a testament to it existing to ward off invasions from likely Nohr), Sumeragi comes from a long line of samurai

If having a warrior culture means Hoshido sucks, then so does Faerghus. At least Hoshido hasn't recently committed genocide.

"Why is it that the story never comments on Mikoto being sisters with Arete?". Because Mikoto is almost assuredly an adoptee from a Hoshidan branch in Valla that was given the blood of the First Dragons like the Vallite royals; her namesake, hair color and genealogy all clash too much from most of the Vallite royals having Greco-Romanic-Vedic names and aqua hair colors.

There, right there. "Almost assuredly an adoptee". Anon has to speculate that because the writers never clarify the point. Also what does that have to do with Mikoto being Arete's sister? People only lambast the relationship because it sloppily and awkwardly makes Corrin and Azura cousins for no reason at all.

And these are just the common criticisms Fates has;

So common that Anon didn't understand a one of them!

there's so many more little details that makes perfect sense when you actually think on it a little,

Then go ahead and share them, and make sure the game actually conveys these ideas and they're not something you had to headcannon.

because the entire game is a deconstruction of superficial black-and-white morality by showing that both sides are human and you have loved ones on both sides.

I'm sorry, but showing that there's gewd peeple in Nohr doesn't change the fact that one nation is just minding its own business, while the other is trying to invade and conquer it as a naked landgrab and nothing more. The Nohr royal family (minus Elise, who isn't in a position to really do anything about it and is honestly the bravest of all her siblings) being SCARED of Garon is a pathetic effort to absolve them of their Camus behavior, especially Xander.

Garon IS what the Edelgard haters think Edelgard is.

The Nohrian royal family IS what Edelgard haters think the Black Eagles are when they're on her side.

And the infuriating part? People continuously dismiss Fates like it somehow has no debt.

...Debt? Did you mean "depth"?

Even when you show supports and scripts showing the full picture, they just go "this didn't happen in my playthrough, so it doesn't count." Oftentimes insulting the person's intelligence for "not admitting Fates is bad," effectively.

Fates discourse was a long time ago and I don't really remember it so well anymore, but that's definitely not happening with Engage, which is catching about as much flack as Fates did in the writing department (honestly, while I think Engage's characters are generally better-written, I detest the main story even more than I do Fates', because Fates was at least trying to do something novel. Engage put in zero effort and still fucked up).

Nowadays, I don't really see people jumping down most peoples' throats when they say they like Fates, unless the Fates defender is being a petulant brat about it. Here's a good example of it in action:

I'm covering names, but I'll use a consistent coloring for each person.

Red over here gets upset at people trashing on scenes from Fates and Engage, so they launch into an indignant diatribe against Three Houses.

But anyways, those of you familiar with Fates/Engage writing discourse are probably checking your watches, wondering when the Three Houses whutaboutism is going to begin. Well rest easy, because that's next.

There's just something strange about defenders of Fates and Engage, they so very seldom defend their game, they just go "but Three Houses was worse!"

Even if that was true, it's just whutaboutism. The reality here is the bitterness that Three Houses' writing is well-regarded (for the franchise at least) and Fates and Engage's are not, and the writing is the most prominent albatrosses around both games' necks.

The truth is, people hated Fates' writing before Three Houses came out, and they would have hated Engage's if Three Houses never existed, and honestly, I suspect with the hypothetical triple-whammy of Fates, Echoes, and Engage all coming out and all being terribly-written, people might start to just check out on Fire Emblem being capable of having good writing anymore at all. I know I'm nervous about the future of the series, when a remake of a SaGa game from the 90's is genuinely better written than Engage (the memory walk at the end of Revenge of the Seven makes me tear up every time, dammit).

Meanwhile, 3H has people so enamored with the idea of what it is that if you actually analyze what it says versus what's actually happening in subtext, context and implications, it completely falls apart and shows the "grey morality" isn't remotely grey.

I'm just going to let anon ramble for a bit because... they've got a very strange definition of gray morality.

The only lord who's even remotely decent people are Dimitri and Claude, and Dimitri had his phase as the Boar following the Duscur massacre and even Claude is a slippery weasel who sides with the strongest faction any time he's not the focus (and sometimes even when he is). Rhea is a traumatized genocide survivor and a cosummate liar trying to make meaning of an abusive system and is just a horrible person that even Seteth becomes afraid of, and Edelgard is willing to kill thousands to burn down a system and is openly a revanchist tyrant who makes cheap, palsy claims of guilt or "regret" for the lives she's taken, but willingly let what happened at Remire happened and still sided with Those Who Slithers.

...So apparently gray morality is when everyone is perfect?

(And yes, we're just gonna ignore the exhausted Edelgard slander).

And unlike what people say about Fates and Valla, the existence of the Agarthans completely destroys any moral nuance 3H is.

I wouldn't say they completely destroy the moral nuance, but they definitely fuck it up. The Agarthans are such a strange group to have exist in a story that's otherwise really good at showing everyone having a point, even if only a small one. Maybe they're supposed to be the extreme end of everyone thinking they're the hero? The Agarthans certainly do.

Fates's point was "even though these factions seem good and evil, they're so much more complex than that and nations aren't first appearances; they are full of people too, good and bad".

Yeah, Garon's super complex.

3H's point was a measly-mouthed attempt at acting like nobody is the right, conveniently having whatever faction Byleth chooses being the moral victor even when all evidence should show the contrary,

No, 3H's point was certainly not that nobody was in the right. The point was that Edelgard, Claude, Dimitri, and even Rhea had good and bad parts to them. Whichever character you choose to support has their best traits show all the brighter, and the others slide into deeper darkness. Be it Edelgard turning herself into a monster, Dimitri becoming a murderous monster who leads his people to ruin, Claude looking out only for himself at the expense of all others, and Rhea going insane and burning a city down as a last grasp at killing Byleth.

but while Fates is reviled for being a sensible work with an awkward delivery,

But it's not a sensible work, it's been analyzed ad nauseum for almost ten years. There's a reason EmblemXeno and anon have retreated to just bitterly stewing on Tumblr: they lose whatever arguments they get into the instant they step outside their echo chamber.

3H is loved for being a nonsensical mess of conflicting details

Anon, just because you didn't understand the point doesn't mean there was no point.

because it figures it might as well not care about actually making a point and instead saying what people wanted to hear

I'm really curious to see what anon thought was supposed to be Three House's point. Red Lady bad?

because it's, sadly, completely correct that fans only look at the first impression regardless of if it has any weight to it,

In Three Houses, especially, that's super ironic, seeing as how all three lords subvert their first impressions.

because they've invented depth that does not exist. And that results in a fandom that cannot agree on basic facts and details;

Partly, that's because people get things wrong and keep parroting their wrong ideas as though they were correct, and then others don't fact check them. For a while there, people were insisting that Hapi's ending in Azure Moon states definitively that she helps Dimitri find and defeat the Agarthans in Shambhala when it most certainly does not.

The issue is that Three Houses hides a lot of its details into the depths of its worldbuilding and leaves a lot to interpretation. To people who demand clear answers, I suppose that would be a bad thing, but I think it's part of the game's strength.

ironic for the fandom that focuses so much on being "objectively correct" with their analysis in dismissing Fates altogether, while they are blind to their own headcanons dominating the sphere because they're chasing phantoms.

Ironic that anon is whining about headcannons.

Anon then whines for a little bit about Awakening, and far be it for me to gainsay them on that because I fuckin' hate Awakening, its gameplay is dumpster tier and its writing peaks in chapter 10 out of a 26 chapter game, not counting gaidens.

But [Awakening] at least feels like an FE game to me, with all the love, empathy, kindness and kickass swords. 3H is so unlike an FE game in spirit and essence

Sure, anon. Whatever you say.

Emblem Xeno tends to get a lot of anons (or just the same anon constantly reiterating the same point) saying that Three Houses "doesn't have the spirit of a true Fire Emblem game" but they can never explain what that means.

I guess it's not a true Fire Emblem game if it ponders, "but what if the godly dragons weren't flawless?" or, "actually should the nobles be held to certain standards?"

Oh well, we all have to start somewhere.

that I would legitimately accept it more if it actually was a brand new series altogether,

People would still be calling Fates and Engage poorly written even if Three Houses was part of the Water Sigil franchise it was, Anon.

but as is, it tethering to the FE brand as the most popular FE game proves you can get away with any shitty sentiment in your works as long as you honey your words enough;

"Maybe people deserve to live the kinds of lives they want to live" is a shitty sentiment?

doesn't matter how right you are or how much you have depth and meaning, it doesn't matter shit if your delivery is shit,

I'm still waiting to hear about all that depth and meaning, Anon, and hopefully they can manage something better than a horribly-mangled reference to the Chinese elements.

because most people only look at first impressions and not if it's actually true or not.

Fates has been analyzed, discussed, and retrospectived so many times that we're now on the three-thousandth impression, and it hasn't exactly improved over the last ten years.

And it's fucking disappointing seeing the average person be so incapable of that, while people like you or I are rare.

Anon then closes by talking about Dragon Age: Veilguard and the recent Harry Potter game, neither of which I've played or am interested in, so I guess we'll just close this here.

So yeah, that was some impressive whining!

But before we go, Emblem Xeno had a few things to say in response to the ask:

Hoshido and Nohr are themselves Yin-Yang, darkness within light (Hoshido being peaceful yet having cracks underneath) and light within darkness (Nohr being antagonistic yet full of good people)

Supposedly good people, yet it's also where Iago, Hans, and all of their genocidal soldiers come from. Who from Hoshido is as bad? Haitaka? Emblem Xeno talks about Hoshido having "cracks underneath", but generally this is just "there's a lot of rout maps, so clearly Birthright Corrin is bloodthirsty", funny how the lack of rout maps in Crimson Flower never gets brought up; "Hoshido never helped Nohr with their famine", we don't actually know what sort of relation the two nations had prior to Sumeragi's death, and after that Hoshido naturally wouldn't be helping Nohr with anything; and also "Hoshido is isolationist and that's bad" though I don't recall any evidence of it being that.

Takumi has heavy darkness within his heart, hence why he's able to be warped by Anankos.

The bit about his beloved stepmother (rip Ikona again, gotta make sure the player can bang their siblings) dying in a shocking tragedy, his kingdom getting steamrolled thanks to Corrin, losing both his beloved retainers thanks to Corrin, and his beloved little sister (Sakura's one of the only people he's completely friendly with, they're pretty cute together) getting captured by a Kingdom of vicious murderers had nothing to do with it.

Nah, it was because he had darkness in his heart, kinda like Riku, y'know?

The Japanese version of his solo ending even says that seeing the good in people after peace is attained was able to suppress that darkness.

Whatever, I'll take Xeno's word for it, I can't confirm or deny that one.

And Elise is constantly compared to being a light in a kingdom of darkness.

I think that only comes up once, when she's first introduced?

Plus, those two are also parallels to each other in terms of story roles (alongside being opposites of Leo and Sakura as well of course), given how both were pushed to death through no fault of their own, and were suffering through external circumstances! Takumi gets corrupted through his existing hatred, and Elise gets depressed when the light of her life-her family-is dimming.

Do they really work as parallels, though? Takumi ends up at his worst on the route opposite the one where he's playable, while Elise just ends up the same as always. Now if she was the final boss of Birthright, that'd totally work. And also it'd be fucking incredible, imagine that shit! Like if she went full zealot somehow and became some sort of light-based evil? I dunno how that'd work, though.

Either way, I don't really see how Takumi and Elise are foils when the only thing connecting them is they fuckin' die and both get sick.

Like... aren't these things worthy of discussion?

Well, it's just really shallow and not terribly interesting. It'd be like pointing out how the Tales of series so often references the big four elements and acting like that's depth, when it's really just recurring series trappings.

I honestly think that people don't talk about them because they have the notion that Fates' writing is bad, so there must be nothing deeper.

Well you sure aren't going to convince people of this by hiding in a little hole on Tumblr, Xeno. Oh, but we know why you hide: you make a fool of yourself whenever you try to argue points elsewhere.

No! Execution of a story can fuck things up greatly, and the fact that some are unwilling to even admit that? Makes me sad.

Admit what, that execution of a story can fuck things up greatly? I don't think anyone's doubting that. In fact, from what I've seen generally people agree that Fates had an interesting idea, it just wasn't executed very well.

Though honestly that last line just reads like "why can't they all admit that I'm right and they're wrong?" which is depressingly common from Xeno's crowd on tumblr...

[arminthada]

Okay, so the original post you wrote has been a while and I saw it by ghost-reading (this is when I read someone's blog without signing into Tumblr. I'm only signed in on a specific browser on my laptop to prevent mindless scrolling).

If I recall correctly, you mentioned being ready to protect a Thai actor because he's some BL actor but is married to a wife (or has a girlfriend). That reminded me of an incident my best friend told me while we were chatting.

She said there was this time when two pairs of BL actors (she coded them as Pair A + B, and Pai C +D since I don't know them and their names weren't the point) got massively flacked by fans because B kissed C on camera when the four friends were hanging out. Fans apparently saw it as a betrayal of the "BL pairing," even though all four of them were just vlogging their activities not as characters they play.

I wanna know more about this phenomenon out of curiosity!

Is it as common as my best friend put it? Or is she just unlucky enough to be caught in such a storm?

Why do fans think this way, when these are just actors and not the real characters? Is it similar to the issue of fans of Kpop, Jpop, or even Cpop artists who cannot accept their idols marrying or dating anyone?

What do the companies hiring or signing these actors do to mitigate such an issue/protect their actors?

Or... Do the companies cash in on this sort of fanatic fervor, such that they encourage fans to believe this illusion, or mandate their actors to uphold such an illusion even when they are being themselves outside of acting?

How does an incident like this usually get resolved?

What are the major stances of Thai BL fans on this issue? Not all of them support this sort of fervor, right?

Lastly: what do you think, personally, is central to this sort of incident?

Sorry if it sounds like some college assignment, but I really wanna know what you think! I'm so curious as an outsider to all of this...

Thanks!!!

Hiiiii Lyn \(￣︶￣*\))

You have no idea how happy I am to receive this ask because I've been wanting to talk about that couple incident that you're referring to since forever but I've never gotten the chance to properly collect my thoughts about it. Thank you for allowing this opportunity to ramble about this and for your very introspective questions.

So firstly to give some context to it, I think it's a bit more important to cover some background information of the two pairings that you're talking about.

OffGun and TayNew are some of the oldest pairings in GMMTV. They are known to all be good friends with each other (if not to say they're each other best friends). They've all done non-BL works with different actors but in terms of promotions, OffGun and TayNew have always been regarded to be the 'pillars' of GMMTV (their company) branded pairings.

Even though the four people are close with each other, Tay is particularly close with Gun (and this is public fact known by everyone who follows them), often teasingly calls each other pet/master and have some hangouts/vacations with just them two.

In the case of TayGun, I think their playful kiss being caught unexpectedly on livestream caused so much reactions was because it's a private moment between them. BL fans are too used with using private moments (re:clips of casual skinship between actors during work events and non-work livestream) to prove the existence of their closeness or togetherness -> so when New accidentally turned his camera to show Gun playfully kissing Tay during livestream, I think many (outraged) fans falsely equated that TayGun kissing in private like that means they're romantically involved to a certain degree.

Even though Tay has come out to explain that it isn't the case and that Gun was just playfully teasing him, there were still so much flacks thrown his way. Even with clarifications from both sides, you can basically see from the comments section of these Tiktoks (1, 2, 3, 4) that there is a considerable portion of OffGun and TayNew upset and disappointed (even though there is no reason to). I'll just translate some of the Vietnamese ones because those are the comments that show up first for me.

For those who follow [OffGun], you'll already know that Gun has been avoiding skinship from Off since 2022, fans used to think that he was shy but now we get it 🥲

10 years is just a number =)))))) (t/n: OP is insinuating that OffGun has been fooling their fans for 10 years)

What kind of 'friends' kiss each other on the lips?!

Now I can't watch OffGun series anymore 😇 Can they please give us a TayGun series 😌

Have I been blind all this time because how can everything has been so clear yet I still don't know it 🥲🥲🥲

Is it as common as my best friend put it? Or is she just unlucky enough to be caught in such a storm?

I think it's both common and not. So 'common' is in the sense that whenever one half of a branded pairing or 'koojin' is close and intimate with another person or displaying any possibilities of them being involved with said person in real life, it always trigger these reactions from shipper fans to immediately deny that possibilities or to attack the actors in the branded pairing as if they have 'deceived' their fans.

This has infinitely lessened in recent years with actors actively taking a stance against their fans harrassing their colleagues over ships but in general we still see it now and then with popular/rising/active ships or inactive ships but with astronomically huge fandoms (see: reactions of brightwin fans to bright's dating news).

I'm also saying it's uncommon for 'two halfs of two different popular BL pairings to get rumored to be together' but in 2024, it has already happened twice so who knows what's real really 😅 Aside from the case of TayNew/OffGun, there's also the case of actors Mew and Tul (who were both parts of ships with HUGE fandoms MaxTul and MewGulf) confirming their in real life relationship but their news was more well received internationally as neither of their old ships have been active in having series together for a while (i still see flacks for both of them here and there but that's because i'm vietnamese and vietnamese negative reactions are always the ones i see first to any dating news of one half of a BL pairing).

Why do fans think this way, when these are just actors and not the real characters? Is it similar to the issue of fans of Kpop, Jpop, or even Cpop artists who cannot accept their idols marrying or dating anyone?

I think there are several reasons like actors and companies contributing to the delusions of shipper fans and fans not being able to separate real life actors from the characters they play on screen, which have been extensively discussed in these Reddit threads (1, 2) so I won't delve into them. I'll just focus on a common reason i've seen from vietnamese fans being the combination of emotional and financial investment in these ships.

Similar to Kpop, Jpop or even Cpop idols as you've mentioned, there's a large degree of parasocial relationship involved between a CP/idol and their fans. Rather than the Kpop idol feeding fans the delusion of them being an attractive yet attainable, relatable, single person, these 'koojins' offer CP fans the image of a beautiful friendship/'will they/won't they'/'ambiguous more than friends, less than lovers' relationship -> so once there is a strong emotional attachment to the actors who are part of a pairing, fans will inevitably have strong feelings about their romantic life aka whether the CP is really together or not.

Even though branded pairings or 'love teams' have been an age old phenomenon since the dawn of television (not just in Southeast Asia but in Hollywood as well), I think this phenomenon has flourished particularly in Southeast Asia with many successful stories of actors having on-screen to off-screen real life romances (see: KathNiel in the Philippines, NadechYaya in Thailand...)

What do the companies hiring or signing these actors do to mitigate such an issue/protect their actors? and How does an incident like this usually get resolved?

I think one of the most interesting things about Thailand entertainment industry is that it's so easy for celebrities to sue people for online defamation. So rather than making any statements to 'save' their branded pairings or to resolve any confusion, the company doesn't do anything (which I understand because the artists are already clarifying themselves to the nosy press about any 'possible scandals that happened'). In the case that online commenters are getting too toxic, the artists can just screenshot the toxic tweets/posts, send them to the company's legal department and those defamation cases get resolved by the police.

But even then, that hasn't really stopped fandoms that are too large in size, too delusional in mind to do the crazy things they do even after a branded pairing has stopped working together, such as showing up at the fanmeeting of one actor, wearing masks of the other actor in that inactive ship. In this case, the company can't do anything since... well those people paid to attend the fanmeeting and get a photo with their idol. The most a company could do is probably to 'officially announce the ending of the ship' but... their comments section are still full of obsessed fans til this day so i doubt that announcement made any difference to the fully obsessed and delusional cp fans.

Or... Do the companies cash in on this sort of fanatic fervor, such that they encourage fans to believe this illusion, or mandate their actors to uphold such an illusion even when they are being themselves outside of acting?

Companies have always generated as much revenue from brand endorsement, brand promotions fanmeetings, concerts, selling merchs of these pairisings as they do from producing and airing these series if not more, so I've also felt a sense of these companies capitalizing upon their branded pairings and the volatileness of delusional fans.

If you're interested here and here are two interviews with P'Tha, the CEO of GMMTV company which TayNew and OffGun are under, I think his sharings in these interviews are very insightful into how the companies view these branded pairings (the main source of income for these companies basically).

I wouldn't say that the companies mandate or force their actors to act a certain to create an illusion of an ambiguous/are they aren't they ship for any branded pairings, but i DO think that being in an environment where two people (who are part of a branded pairing) are constantly being shipped or teased by co-workers and sometimes even the ceo himself... that does make shipper fans more delusional than they normally would. it's like as if you were in a class and everyone around you start shipping two people or pushing two people to be together, you'd be questioning what the others know about those two that you don't... it's 'sus' as the cp fans will say 😂

What are the major stances of Thai BL fans on this issue? Not all of them support this sort of fervor, right?

I think there's all sorts of opinions that pops up whenever there's news of someone dating surfaces, there are no consensus on it because the feelings of the fans rely largely on how emotionally invested they are in the actors/real people. There are fans who will take the news harder (feeling tricked, deceived, all that jazz) and there are also fans who will feel like 'oh that's normal' or they would rejoice in the happiness of their favorite actor having an in real life parner. Also it's probably important to note that the stance of Thai BL fans do not necessarily align with the stance of general Thai audience, for example when Thai actor Bright revealed his girlfriend Nene, basically the entire Thai netizen is supportive of him whereas his previous branded pairing fans are divided between supporting him and feeling 'betrayed' by this reveal.

Lastly: what do you think, personally, is central to this sort of incident?

Personally, I think it's fans' expectations. Similar to what Monk Dol told Dear about not holding on to things too tightly, I think fans often hold on to the romantic stories portrayed on screen more strongly than they do with non-romantic stories. Therefore, the reality of an actor having a real life partner often dispels this illusion of a 'screen-to-life' romance stories that fans may have concocted in their mind for any pairings not limited to whether they are in queer love or straight love stories.

I feel like it's just much easier for fans of straight pairings to move on since they don't get paired repeatedly as leads together every 1-2 years and they often don't have couples' work (like promoting brands togethers...) long after the ending of their series together, contrasting with branded pairings in BL/GL series who still get brands work together after the ending of their series -> allowing their "ship" fanbase to grow and the fans to have even larger expectations of the actors to have future works together.

Again it might be a lot of me to ask that these dedicated fans not to have expectations (which may eventually lead to their own suffering) because logically these fans do pour in not just emotional investment but also like HUGE financial investment so having expectations are really inevitable ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ perhaps they should watch สาธุ and learn to let go of having any expectations for a ship or an idol which will benefit all parties involved 😅

Anyhow before I end this, please let me ramble and promote my beloved actor, JJ Krissanapoom whom you've mentioned first in your ask.

JJ Krissanapoom is a prolific Thai actor whose works I've followed really early on in my journey of Thai media consumation. He's starred in works of different genres and he's had queer love-adjacent projects before like Diary of Tootsies (with Paopetch aka Monk Ekkachai in สาธุ) and Great Men Academy (with James Teeradon aka Win in สาธุ).

But JJ has been in a highly publicized long term relationship with his girlfriend Thanaerng for seven years now, so I have no fears/worries about the reception of Thai fans to his upcoming queer love work Spare Me Your Mercy.

That being said, I'm still very worried about any negative reactions from delusional shippers because even if the actors have nothing to insinuate that they're together or even if they're both actors with in real life partners, the delusional fans always have the following comment templates to bash the drama/actors

I can't see the chemistry between the actors, probably because they both have girlfriends.

Why is the actor posting pictures with his girlfriend instead of promoting his own series?!!?

Why does the actor have an event with his girlfriend rather than an event with his co-star??!?!?!?

things like these... i'm already expecting.... and praying they won't happen... also if they do... i wouldn't be very surprised... and i'm actually very parasocially attached to jj and thanaerng's irl relationship so i feel like i'm even extra protective of their relationship than i already do.

and i'm definitely going off track here... but yes i'm very much looking forward to having jj krissanapoom on my screen again, in this BL series about a cop solving a series of murders of dying patients, to which his doctor boyfriend is the no.1 suspect of.

and here's a cute recent clip of all three people jaylerr, gun and tay to end my lengthy incoherent ramble

[amelikos]

Stray thoughts on Friede.

Just observations from the recent episodes.

I can't help but notice the continuing thread of making Friede take a step back narratively so the trio can handle things themselves and showcase their respective knowledge. A process that has started to gain momentum even more ever since chapter 3 which was about the trio training and growing more independently (we already saw the trio acting on their own ever since chapter 1, such as when Liko was able to retrieve her pendant from Spinel in HZ016 with Roy and Dot's help, etc). While the first year was about Friede acting as a safety net and teaching the kids various things until they grew enough so that they could train on their own in Terastal Debut. Chapter 3's concept cannot exist or be consistent without the first two chapters leading up to it.

Quite literally in this week's episode too (re: making Friede take a step back) since Friede was holding off the wild Pokemon while letting everyone else go ahead without him. And next week's preview states that Friede will not be there to fight Basagiri, so it feels like the writing is deliberately isolating Friede from the trio so that they can get Basagiri on board with them, while Friede will be there after the battle to witness the results of their growth after Basagiri does join them..? Friede was there to help Liko and Roy various times with the previous Heroes they encountered, like back when they met Galar Fire and Lapras. Both times with Galar Fire and Lapras, Friede was able to pinpoint their location (in Galar Fire's case, Friede had to help during the battle to make Liko's strategy work and in Lapras's case, he was the one who understood that Lapras was tricking them etc). And this time, the trio was able to gather hints about Basagiri's location on their own, while Friede joined them at the end.

Not sure where I'm going with this but. Friede fits the mentor character archetype. The wiser older figure who serves as a teacher and guide to the protagonist to help them develop the skills they lack and overcome obstacles.

That, coupled with: Friede observing the kids' growth twice so far in this chapter (HZ068 and HZ072), Dot singling him out as the reason she was able to start traveling on the ship (he was the one who invited her, which led Dot to eventually meeting Liko and Roy etc.. either way, we got an in-universe reminder that Friede's presence was meaningful to Dot and his invitation was important to her). We also got to have reminders that Friede is talented, smart and respected (and hot) (and pathetic) in his field of study, since Sazare uses his research as a basis to look for Pokemon to take pictures of.. and Friede beating Zeiyu at every challenge, too (casually setting him as someone strong).

Anyway, I'm writing all of this because I'm still curious about this specific Friede scene in the opening. I am aware that me picking up on the stuff I wrote above could just be a case of bias, since I feel like the scene in the opening has a potential ominous feeling to it, so. Either way, Friede is the mentor and making such a character take a step back narratively so the protagonist can stand on their own is a common story beat. And it's currently what is happening in Horizons. Now whether the mentor character (Friede) will go through something bad or not, is another matter entirely. Some stories kill off their mentors (it won't happen in Horizons of course), some others don't, but incapacitate their mentors somehow so the protagonist can save them. Either way, I'm just taking note of the Friede focus in the recent episodes, which has him watching over and pointing out the trio's growth (which is something that happened because of his direct involvement in their lives) and that we have fresh reminders of the kind of person Friede is (knowledgeable, strong, etc).

(Also, I'm avoiding the words "the trio doesn't /need/ Friede anymore" because I don't agree with downplaying characters and their respective roles in a story, etc. Especially since the RVT all help each other in their own ways and people need community. And this is not the Explorers situation where someone like Amethio doesn't exactly have someone to guide him (which is also why Friede is important in his character arc, because he is there to be someone that no one else in his life is) and is thrown out/considered unneeded once his actions are perceived as a "betrayal". My perspective is "the trio is growing with Friede's/everyone else's help and they are now able to do things on their own that they weren't able to do before, precisely because they were in an environment which allowed them to reach that point".)

[sikkdog]

I decided that i should start reading paragon and i’m only on chapter 10 and i absolutely hate it. It’s possible i’m just overly picky with my fanfic but i honestly think it’s just genuinely bad. I bet(and hope) i don’t have the full story with how will got in prison in the beginning but having hannibal meet formally after will is accused does not feel natural at all. The pacing is something that makes me incredibly mad. On the first fucking chapter i felt like we just went through a season long arc. Hannibal should not be so blatantly in love with will in the beginning, and neither should will. Both of them should take a significant amount of time to accept these feelings in the first place. Will isn’t the only one to struggle with accepting himself. You know how jarring it must be for the goddamn chesapeake to form an attachment to a person he’s playing little mind games with and trying to frame. I also don’t believe hannibal would’ve gained that severe of an attachment if he didn’t manipulate will. Hannibal and will cannot exist without resistance. Will falling in love with hannibal is parallel to him discovering his unconscious. Wills tendencies towards violence are primal and so is his relationship with hannibal. For hannibal it is significantly easier to accept his attraction to him. The main issue with him is his tendencies and wills resistance to them. They both must resist eachother to be together. On the other hand they could just keep resisting eachother and trying to kill eachother and i would be much happier than whatever paragon has going on. Paragon pretty much takes away what makes hannigram so enticing and replaces it with smut.

This is definitely going to be a longer post because i have a lot of criticisms just for those 10 chapters. Pretty much every interaction feels out of character. The hannibal depicted in paragon is solely centered around his relationship with will. Though i don’t usually have an issue with portraying hannibal as obsessive i don’t think that really scrapes the surface of my issue here. Hannibal is a character who’s ego is constantly battling his id. In paragon he is not battling anything it’s like the solely will part of his id was only highlighted and it doesn’t feel as personal as it would if it didn’t completely ignore how he’s a killer. That is also something that pissed me off. We all know who we are talking about when we mention hannibal lecter. Therefore i think that making his killings a little secret that is only gone over in subtext is pointless. Hannibal is only a shell of himself when you completely separate him from violence. One can separate the monster from the man but not without either part being unaffected by the other.

With wills characterization is a whole other thing. Wills character makes me genuinely so frustrated because it is just straight up not will graham. That is not the traumatized man being pushed to the edge by the fbi(and also had encephalitis but it hasn’t been explain how it would affect him on the levels it did in the show.) Will had just spent so much time in prison(still don’t know why) for crimes he did not commit and this time having no one to blame and no evidence to back it up. If anything he should’ve stayed non verbal much much longer. It make’s absolutely zero sense for him to have a few angsty monologues about his experiences in prison and that be it.

Another thing abour will is that he does not act like will in the first place. He is strangely much more casual and talks in ways i can’t picture coming out of wills mouth. He also acts so much younger. It’s not just that, he is portrayed as much younger. He is written as a lot younger and innocent and sometimes it is difficult for me to picture the real will graham whilst reading. I saw something about will being 29 during paragon. First off, ew please stop aging him down to make him more innocent it’s fucking weird. Also it’s just not possible. There is no way a 29 year old was in wills line of work unless he was young sheldon or someone. Seeing will aged down or infantilized always makes me feel really icky and that is exactly how paragon made me feel.

Will and hannibal are nothing like their actual characters and all of their interactions feel so awkward. Honestly every characters interactions feel unnatural and weird in this fic. This is mostly just me criticizing the quality of paragon but in my opinion it’s not good quality at all. The pacing makes absolutely no sense. This causes the characters to have no build up whatsoever and the only meaningful moments they have are just venting about shit. A lot of the times it doesn’t even make sense for them to be explaining how they feel because it’s either way too soon or completely out of the blue. It feels as if the story is attempting to have content but is failing. It is just poorly done form with out of place content and it’s pretty disappointing.

I knew when i picked up this fic i wasn’t going to get something life changing but more of a haha hannibal sex kinky sex hannigram sex yaoi smut sex haha. I honestly think it would be much more enjoyable for me if it was. I know that a lot of people really enjoy this fic and i don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I see the appeal as a “Oh this doesn’t have to be good it’s just for the silly.” Unfortunately it got on my nerves far too much to be that. One thing i have to say is why is this the bible. Can we pick a new bible like one thats actually good, just saying.

All i want to do with this post is share a perspective i don’t see very often when regarding paragon. I mostly see jokes and praise but i wanted to give some criticism. I don’t mean to do any harm with my opinions, I am simply just stating my truth.

[whetstonefires]

I hope you're having an excellent day 😊😊😊 What about Wei Wuxian as Naruto?

Thanks! It was pretty good. I organized my embroidery floss and took advantage of being alone in the building to dance around like a maniac for about 20 minutes. My cat hated it. My knees aren't sure they approve either.

Wei Wuxian as Naruto has a lot going for it right out the gate. Orphaned sunshine boy protagonist types, now we're cooking with propane. They're even both fox coded!

However, at the risk of stating the obvious, if Wei Wuxian were Naruto he wouldn't be Naruto anymore. That is. Fundamental to Wei Wuxian is that he is brilliant and talented and he damn well knows it. He would excel without effort in ninja school--not as much as he did in Jiang Sect unless he unlike Naruto was still getting personal mentoring in honor of his late father, but still.

Difference is, when this Wei Wuxian slacks off in class and the teacher tries to embarrass him, if he reels off the correct answer and then reinvents senjutsu from first principles in a creepy-sounding way for a lark just to show off, the teacher is not going to think that he's just like his annoying late mother. (Though he'll still have one. Kushina and Cangse Sanren are fairly similar Dead Mom archetypes too.)

The teacher is going to think things like, no real child would say that shit and I'm expected to teach the monster fox that killed my family basic ninjutsu I hate this I hate this we're all gonna die.

So basically this Wei Wuxian gets his Yiling Laozu reputation mod as part of the starter pack. I don't think he'd handle it super gracefully! But not the worst, either.

Not even as badly as he did in the actual version, probably, on account of he doesn't know his own dark secret. So he can't self-isolate to protect it. Though him pulling away from people once he does learn would be cool.

He'd probably have forged slightly stronger social ties rather sooner than Naruto did, even if he was just as neglected and radioactive; Wei Wuxian doesn't care what people think of him nearly as much as Naruto does, but in some ways he's a more genuinely social person, and he's got much better social intuition, so it's easier for him to figure out what people want and either do that or not do that on purpose.

He'd have at least a bunch of casual friends. Mostly civilians, and other kids from ninja school whose parents told them not to play with him but they did anyway.

Wei Wuxian cannot do therapy no jutsu. He does not have that ability to confront and exist with emotional discomfort or that intensity of interest in what is going on with other people.

He does however have some level of Friendship Beam Attack (the plot to some extent hinges utterly on how effectively it hit Wen Ning) and it would presumably be more effective, in a shounen context.

But that's the thing, Wei Wuxian isn't really built to confront shounen manga style problems. Or, well, he is, but he's overbuilt for them; they're his bread and butter. One of Naruto's key motifs, early on at least before we got into the heavy power creep, is not being a genius.

Wei Wuxian, by definition, is a genius. He is the kind of guy who walks up to shounen manga sorts of problems scaled to what ought to be his level, handles them, and goes 'what, like it's hard?'

Wei Wuxian is designed to be destroyed not by external threats but by his own loyalties, politics, and lies. (Which was a point of confluence with Itachi I didn't really touch on because the flow was so different lmao.)

He's also, otoh, designed to be destroyed. Naruto is designed to start off artificially low and climb steadily up toward heaven. (Ymmv on how this worked out but he sure did escalate.)

You have to pick which schema to apply when performing the fusion--I mean, it's not either-or, the whole deal with Wei Wuxian is he goes through the entire arc of a tragedy and then comes back to life and stars in a romcom. These things can superimpose and stack. But there are structural decisions that have to be made early.

So anyway, Wei Wuxian as Naruto is not going to enter the Genin Team phase of life with the same priorities, even if he has largely conducted himself about the same way hitherto. 'Proving himself' so 'people will accept him' is not a motive that works for this character--you basically have to give him actual precious people earlier just to get him to care about attaining ninja rank at all.

Otherwise he would probably much rather loaf his way through his teens stealing jutsu and making trouble. Which is the well-adjusted reaction to the idea of becoming a child soldier, like. He likes recognition but 'showing off' is a reason he does dumb fun things, not difficult high-commitment ones. He's like if Shikamaru had ADHD and no parents.

Being twelve is going to make him dumber, but I can't see it making him not the kind of person who stops caring about his marks in school if the teacher is hostile.

If Wei Wuxian here isn't acting out of appreciation for the Hokage raising him, or something like that, you have to give him a practical motive to enter military service like 'Konoha stops supporting orphans out of the public purse at thirteen so he's got to get some kind of job and ninja is the least boring option' which. Is significantly less like either Naruto or Wei Wuxian in terms of reasons to do anything, and starts getting into solidly OC territory.

The whole fact that Konoha's worldbuilding centers around an attempt to move away from decentralized clannish social organization and promote the idea of shared, communal social institutions and (in theory) civil society, and the ways this does and does not work out for people especially considering it is still a relatively small military dictatorship, honestly interfaces super interestingly with how, in Mo Dao Zu Shi, one of the underlying challenges backstopping all character choice is that there is no feasible alternative to the clan system, and you have to pick a family-faction to depend upon and submit yourself to, or face the world with no safety net.

Like. Huh.

.....Kishimoto is honestly unusually-for-shounen well-grounded in the genres he's riffing on tbh, for all my bitching there were some very good reasons his work found such success; I would have liked to see what kind of story he produced without the insane pressures of the Weekly part of Weekly Shounen Jump. I wonder if he'll ever publish again. For all I know he already is lmao.

So anyway, however we manage it we get Wei Wuxian on his genin team with like. Lan Wangji and Mianmian or whoever. Actually that's hilarious. Yeah, make it lwj and lqy, both of them so done with his shit.

Setting up some wild role-reversal here--Lan Wangji being the one to go Away and Wei Wuxian asking him to stay? Or Naruto-person leaving into the dark, and Sasuke-person remaining and calling for him to come back? Either way. Getting some inversion. Tasty.

Where does this leave Jiang Cheng, though? Because in a lot of ways Uchiha 'Deuteragonist by Editorial Mandate' Sasuke is straddling both roles.

In many ways Wangxian is much more like if Naruto had an endgame romance with Neji. Which is a great ship tbh, I saw very little of it back in the day?? In a series with a smaller cast or with less Sasuke Creep (not sasuke being a creep, it's like power creep) it would probably have done numbers.

...Naruto going away for that timeskip really limited his opportunity to make connections in the village huh.

I guess it depends on the kind of narrative you're trying to put together. On one hand, you can do Jiang Fengmian as the rather-more-involved Third Hokage, with Jiang Cheng as an aged-up Konohamaru kind of figure. And then Jiang Yanli is standing in as both Iruka and. I know I know the ramen guy's name. Ichiraku. Soup! XD Emotionally significant soup!

But with a different backstory than either lmao. Kurama very possibly killed Yu Ziyuan in this universe, though I can't visualize her as a midwife.

[[[Why do I have so much Naruto lore on tap, there is no life value in knowing Sarutobi Hiruzen's wife was at ground zero of the Kyuubi attack because she was the expert overseeing Uzumaki Kushina's childbirth a;kdj;lafdks. I do not remember the things I was actually studying in high school nearly this well.]]]

(Actually Jin Ling is Konohamaru and Jiang Cheng is aged-down Asuma. But whatever.)

And in this case Wei Wuxian's genin team is Lan Wangji and Mianmian under idk who. Lan Qiren, possibly, although he seems more the Ebisu type. Lan Xichen? (It's not like he can serve as a plausible Itachi. Can you imagine.) Actual Kakashi, possibly; we can't replace everyone with mdzs characters; the cast sizes don't square.

Kakashi training Wei Wuxian is very funny to think about. He deserves this.

Or on the other hand for a different pacing and focus, the genin team is him, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli under Jiang Fengmian, who dies sometime after or probably during the climax of the chuunin exams. And Sarutobi stays Hokage, and probably doesn't die during the chuunin exams. And we aim for a Naruto/Neji kind of romance storyline lol.

What is the Lan Wangji equivalent of Neji exposing his caged bird seal in front of god and everybody and ranting (it is very unclear at what effective volume though you'd think the proctors would have shut him up if he could be heard from the stadium seating that shit was sedition) about his traumatic backstory and the deep injustices in his family's system of hierarchy? I'm gonna say Not That.

Wei Wuxian versus Lan Wangji important ideological-conflict bonding duel in the Chuunin exam finals sounds excellent though.

Either way Wei Wuxian is going to get much more thoroughly involved in the ugly ninja politics than Naruto ever did, and he's going to hate it so so bad and at least temporarily lose so so so hard. A likely story element is he becomes troublesome enough he winds up having to flee the village ahead of a scheme by Danzou to (fatally) rip the Kyuubi out of him and implant it in some thoroughly conditioned ROOT kid.

Maybe Wen Ning?? Idk. I'm mostly saying this because Wen Ning 1) canonically gets Victimized and Transformed and 2) shares some notes with Sai. And this means he's leaving, in part, for Wen Ning, which ties into some plot and character stuff from their original narrative. You could make it work.

Also him taking the replacement human sacrifice with him when he books it would be hysterical.

Anyway he's branded a missing nin and it is, canonically, illegal for him to tell anyone who doesn't already know about the kyuubi thing, so both Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are appropriately what the fucking fuck and receive no adequate answer. This is a workable plot element.

Either the Jiangs or the Lans are the Uchiha, here, which has its own story value, lots of fun to be had. Gotta engineer a way he's protecting Jiang Cheng--does Danzou want to make him the jinchuuriki? Is Orochimaru or his replacement making a play for Jiang Cheng's bloodline limit, whatever it is, fun if it's eyeballs, and Wei Wuxian bargains to give him a jinchuuriki instead? Hmmm.

You want an inside and an outside threat, the obvious viper and the political spider, so you can silo information and make sure nobody entirely knows what's going on.

If it's Jiang Cheng who's assigned the role of bloodline limit macguffin, I have the very wicked urge to cast Yu Ziyuan as some combination of Itachi and Obito. Very Vader kind of effect.

Jin Guangyao as Kabuto, excellent, I need that innocent smile and those torture skills. This may require making Jin Guangshan much smarter than he really is just to fill out the ranks, or again you can keep Danzou as himself.

Tsunade is amusingly enough occupying an overlapping Baoshan Sanren and Wen Qing position; given one of them impersonated the other that time you'd have to do something with that. She's also got some Yu Ziyuan vibe up ofc. Tsunade just contains an entire franchise's supply of girlboss tbh.

Who could possibly stand in for Jiraiya, nobody, but at the same time. Wei Wuxian (with internal sapient asshole nuke) apprenticing under Jiraiya of the Sannin sounds like enough problem-creating goofy jackass genius clown energy in one place to open a singularity. That's too much. No narrative could survive.

Anyway someone please feel free to write this, I am intrigued but also will 100percent never ever put in the time it would take to realize any version of this concept.

[melomelomuskmelon]

Heard you needed asks about Melon's "brain" (I'm pretty sure it's a piece of chewed up toast from how little he uses it for anything other than murder) Sorry I'm really late

What do you think Melon's reaction to meeting his dad would be? Would it be different depending on when in the story he met him (like before and after becoming more leopard-ish)?

General consensus is that Melon would have crashed out even harder if Yahya and Gosha brought his dad to him. However, for me the lack of characterization on Melon's father makes me unsure what would 4 eyes even say or do or rather his bizarre characterization is so......weird. I don't know what else to call it.

Rereading his scenes it's like 4 eyes is barely putting any thought into his actions. What do you mean you a middle age herbivore geezer wants to go to the Black Market to see the hybrid son you haven't interacted with for 24 years? Now?! TODAY?!

Then there's the complete lack of panic when Gosha, a giant poisonous carnivore, pins him down. He doesn't even try to call the Beastar for help and he's 2 meters away from him. I'm pretty sure Melon would be screwed even if he was a pure blooded gazelle or leopard because his parents are shit in two completely different directions. His mom is obsessed with his physical traits to the point of grooming him while his dad barely remembers he exists. One thing all three of them have in common is that they follow their whims without remorse and are very close-minded people.

HIII HIII!! dw you're not late at ALL this is actually my first ask 🙏🙏 tysm!!! i feel like his dad showing up and his reaction would vary depending on the timefrae but not by much, anytime after childhood i think he'd just be pissed off, regardless of if he'd gone through his change or not. However if melon's dad grew a 1/4th of the testicle he seems to have burnt up busting in some deranged leopard bitch and decided to take melon in after his mother's death, i could see him as not directly homocidal towards him at a young age, but i still see his father as somebody who greatly fears carnevores and would likley force melon to mask his features even more or just..ignore him alltogether outside of providing a place to live. [i do wanna say rq i think you calling his father 4 eyes is DIABOLICAL and i love that, ppl forget how UGLY this dude is and that melon has this dudes genetics in him.. i have a design for an older melon that has glasses bc i think it would be funny if his eyes went bad and he needed glasses like his father] but you are so RIGHT his chareccter is so.. odd due to how he was just crammed in at the VERY LAST VOLUME, i hope we get a little more debth on melon's father in the anime.. i really hope they rewrite all my qualms with melon. his father is so.. uncaring about the whole situation, just casually telling the press that this crazy guy who's gotten the back alley WALLED OFF. ON A MAJOR HOLIDAY. is his son so fucking casually. ... like what is this? what is this stance??

its like he doesn't care about himself or anything at all, prehaps he's just as apathetic about the world as melon himself, or prehaps on some sort of substance? he cared so little about his life he jumped into a relationship with a carnevore and just left when a kid became in the picture because it was just "too much" for him, mabye he has deep self loathing for not even loving his son and thats why he allows gosha to threaten him, mabye deep down he knows he's scum and mirrors melon in that way? prehaps melon inherited apathy from his father via some genetic mental illness? like its kinda odvious his mother is mentally ill as she's in some sort of psychosis or mania within her chapters, but i feel like it cannot be soley her mentall illness contributing to melon's ,,,,,,,, issues.. but i agree! as somebody who also has 2 very different brands of mentally ill on both sides of my family within me like a fucked up hybrid myself i SO see how they're both just horrid people that spawned a horrid child.. i wanna see more on the relationship of melon's parents now that you have me thinking of it.. i need to stop filling in the gaps with my own unstable home life, i'd love a cannon answer