#Lee's story is more about the importance of family and learning how to be less selfish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kanene-yaaay · 5 months

Text

Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you

Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!

Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios with lil ol me because it helped me so much to brainstorm kjhgfdfghjk

Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.

[~*~]

Jiang Cheng was not jealous.

He was fine. Great, even.

He was just... curious.

There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.

Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).

(Brother).

And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies.

It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them.

But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday.

Day after day.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.

(What just happened?)

He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.

Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.

The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.

Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.

(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)

So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!

(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.)

However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.

(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)

“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”

Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.

“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.

(Urgh.)

“A-Cheng!”

It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.

“What.”

“Hehehelp me!”

Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”

“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon! Please, A-Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for.

The forehead ribbon. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched and freed by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.

Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the ribbon left in his care a single strain or tear.

Shameless.

He scoffed.

(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own forehead ribbon. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)

And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!

“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”

Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.

“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”

And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”

The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”

If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.

Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.

“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”

It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.

For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony.

His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.

(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)

Jiang Cheng finally snapped.

“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right.

Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.

(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)

Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.

“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!”

Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”

“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst.

Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second.

“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”

For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.

He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.

Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.

“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”

“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.”

Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation.

“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”

“Shameless.”

“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Wait, wait, not there!”

It was true.

Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right.

Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment.

The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered.

Embarrassed.

Shy, even.

For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.

With a whoosh, he was out of the room.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”

As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other.

Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.

Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.

It left Jiang Cheng breathless.

“I see you’re back early.”

And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt.

“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”

Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”

But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash.

Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.

As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.

“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.

Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort.

Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.

(Not blindly, of course. )

(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.)

So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”

“Oh.”

Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission.

He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.

(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)

Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.

“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”

“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips.

Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.

Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes.

Exactly. Just like that.

Soft and light.

Simple and clear as water.

His fingers didn’t want to move.

That was the thing, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang.

His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.

(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment.

And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)

(Trying.)

A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started.

The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.

Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts.

“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back.

The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.

…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job.

Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.

He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.

“Close your eyes.”

Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them.

“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)

Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.

“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”

“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.

But, no. Now, he had another objective.

He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage.

Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations.

“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”

Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch.

With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck.

For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.

His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path.

It was like Jiang Wanyin was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more.

With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.

Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.

Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.

Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly.

“Oi, what was that?”

When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs.

“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”

His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.

“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this.

Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.

“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”

The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved.

Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter.

“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”

The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin.

Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth.

Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course.

So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.

Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.

(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)

(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)

“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.

His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see.

“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.”

His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them.

Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated.

“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”

Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.

“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”

There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.

A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.

His voice was really, really close.

“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”

Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.

Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.

(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)

Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration.

Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.

He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever.

Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner.

Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path.

Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.

The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.

Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot.

But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall.

So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.

That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask.

Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second.

This was fine.

Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering.

There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.

Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm.

The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest.

The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be.

Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:

Jiang Wanyin’s teases.

“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”

He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation.

“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”

Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out.

Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.

Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.

Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot.

His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.

His arms went down.

“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more.

A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”

Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves.

There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.

Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.

“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”

Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin.

He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.

“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”

At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him.

“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”

Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place.

Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.

“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”

A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.

And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.

A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again.

Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments.

After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.

"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”

Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.

In the end, he was successful, of course.

His lover had been barely trying, afterall.

Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.

Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.

Once again, a huff left his mouth.

The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would.

“You know who else is stronger than you?”

There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity.

For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips.

“Me.”

His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?"

Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer.

(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.)

He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place.

"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly."

Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.

"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Wanyin."

(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)

Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face.

With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked.

With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile.

"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far.

"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry.

"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done."

Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.

Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot.

Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back.

They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.

It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.

Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be.

It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, stutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was.

(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he stuttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)

Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.

Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.

At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that.

It was silly, but it was worth a try.

He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused.

“Lan Huan.”

“Yes?”

The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.

(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself still felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name when he continued using it every single day?)

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.

“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.

“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again.

That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.

He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.

“Jiang Cheng!”

His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression.

“Sush. It was nothing.”

Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…

Wait. Could it be…

“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.

“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever.

It was a dangerous weapon.

He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.

Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter.

Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch in hopes of making him lose his breath.

And still…

“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”

Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly.

In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.

The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.

It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.

Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.

Well, he had quite asked for this.

Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech.

The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.

His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.

Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.

It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.

They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.

That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.

He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”

And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.

Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.

The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.

Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Hm?”

Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.

“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The sect leader Lan chuckled.

That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire world spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his head. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.

He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.

“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.

Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all.

“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”

“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”

He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on him, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.

“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”

“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.

An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy.

(Loved).

He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat.

“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He attempted to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”

“So demanding…”

Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.

Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.

“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"

Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.

Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.

He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse.

However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.

It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again.

Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his ribbon was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.

Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.

Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat.

When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other.

"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s ribbon and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Alright?”

It was not a question.

Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.”

Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

“Shall we begin?”

[~*~]

Random Thoughts:

Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all

Lan Xichen: a

Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3

Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him

I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3

Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth

Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu

Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.

#Maybe I got some names wrong jugfdedfgh I am still getting used to them and it's been very interesting so far!#Ticklish!Lan Xichen #Lee!Lan Huan #Lee!Lan Xichen #Ler!Jiang Cheng #Brief Lee!Wei Wuxian and Ler!Lan Zhan #Brief Ler!Lan Xichen and Lee!Jiang Cheng #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #THAT ALMOST COSTED MY SOUL BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO #Gosh. Everytime I think about Jiang Cheng I just remember that quote that is like 'there ws love. it didn't change anything. it didn't save #-anyone. but there was love and that is important.'#dead on the floor sobbing #ANYWAY DID YOU REALIZE HOW AFTER JIANG CHENG JUDGED WEI HE ALMOST ENDED UP RESTRAINED LIKE HIM??? TEHEE THE HYPOCRESY TEHEE #The Lans are simply something else indeed. how much stamina can a single body contain #Wei and Lan wasn't even supposed to appear for so much but I started thinking about Wei giggling while Zhan looks at him in complete awe #and then when I woke up there was like 3000 words on the doc. crazy how life happens fr fr #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #The way that I had to hold myself from writing Lan Xichen getting his revenge you have no idea-#Xichen and Cheng show each other ur smiles without covering your faces new year challenge

24 notes · View notes

no-where-new-hero · 9 months

Text

@alwayschasingrainbows, here is your requested author commentary on "The One Who Takes"!! Quotes and responses below the cut :)))

The next day, he didn’t mention her leaving again. Instead, he brought her to a bathhouse (“don’t even think about eating any of the ajummas”) and to a store for clothes (“you might be happy going around in those ragged sweats, but they don’t match my décor”) and finally to a restaurant (“if you must eat with your fingers, at least wrap the food in lettuce first, people will stare”)

Character building! This was slightly influenced by the one spin-off Rang episode featuring Yu-ri (where they go to a restaurant and he needs to teach her table manners), but also just from his constant vibe of being sweet and thoughtful while pretending to be all tough and uncaring. One thing that I did want to bring out of Rang and Yu-ri’s relationship is their slight Professor —/Eliza Doolittle vibe (since Rang is teaching her how to behave in a certain kind of society, after all)

She had been born the third child of her father’s second wife, who died on the birthing bed. Her two older sisters had been married off to the highest bidders when she was too young to remember more than the cadence of their voices and the gloss of their hair, but as soon as she turned sixteen, she knew that the highest bidder, in her case, wouldn’t be a husband.

Origin story! I had largely forgotten if canon gave us of anything from Yu-ri’s life before the zoo, but her very lack of nostalgia made me feel like it was nothing good, so that was my starting point for her backstory. The three sisters without a mother idea alluded to the fairytale structure of orphaned threes (Beauty and the Beast came to mind), but also to the danger of being a young woman in a world where youth and beauty is a commodity. I also had a sense that…Rang is protector and family to Yu-ri as well as (suggested) lover, so I thought there needed to be an obvious void in her life for him to fill.

Bowls of takeout cold noodles were spread over the table in front of them, and when cold noodles were around, the conversation was apt to stretch and twist into nostalgia.

Naengmyeon! The most important food in the show (Ji-ah’s dad's kimbap is the second most important lmao). Yu-ri knows how Rang likes to dress it, it’s Rang’s favorite dish, it’s what he shares with Yeon later, just a little Easter egg.

She never loved Koo Shin-ju the way she loved Lee Rang-nim, but she was beginning to learn there were other kinds of loving: a kind that could disarm her, that could nurture her, instead of honing her as fierce and keen as the edge of a knife.

I wrote this before I knew there would be a Chapter 2 (which makes Shin-ju/Yu-ri less idealistic lol), but I really wanted to suggest that Shin-ju’s presence in her life was something that would teach her that being a fighter doesn’t have to represent the whole of her nature. I think I was unconsciously echoing Éowyn and Faramir from LOTR—Éowyn’s love for Aragorn (like Yu-ri’s for Rang) is based on her thinking that martial strength is what gives her worth, but Faramir and Shin-ju tell them that tenderness and healing are just as worthwhile, too.

I promised you a stolen life.” He smiled up at her, that old devil-may-care grin that promised nothing could go wrong. “This one…it was always mine. I offered you a piece of it for a while, but you deserve one all your own.”

This line I love retroactively because it gave me a backdoor through which to end Chapter 2 when I wasn’t sure at all how that was supposed to work. But it was also me being a shameless Rang enjoyer when I wrote it. His smile—the fact that his goodness always comes with a caveat—the notion that things in the world are yours for the taking. I needed a way to set up the beginning of the canon, and I just wanted to play with the deliciousness of their dynamic for a bit.

#writing life #blake's last braincell #blake's asks

3 notes · View notes

satanlikedmyunhappylife · 1 year

Text

3rd November 2022 - Blog 12

Seeing as I was away for the week because of the crash, it was difficult to fully understand what exactly we were doing for the lesson.

In daves class, we went thoough a powerpoint, that I found on teams, and there where examples of the business plan that we needed to have a look through. He had provided two examples, one had minimal detail (which scored the lower grade) and the other was rich in detail. He made sure to express that the business plan is more about telling a story rather than listing things. We were then told to split the doccument up into sections so that way, writing 2000–2500 words will be less intimidating.

The first section was section 2.0 Experience and History. in this section, we were told that we had to write about all our previous experiences and why we fell into doing what we are, graphic design, photography etc. we were to go back as far as gcses and just speak on what happened. For my GCSE’s, I chose ICT and, surprisingly, was actually graphic design. We didnt have to complete any coding thankfully, but we actually had to create a prom hire company. In this, we had to make a mock up website, design a logo and a tag line and create a very wordy doccuent that explained why we did what we did. It was digital graphic design rather than the graphics they offered which was more building thinks. So I included this in.

We were given 30mins to do this.

After we then went on to discuss 3.0 vision and values. In our groups, Jen and Callum, disscussed the importance of different values what what values companies need to thrive.

The next session was lee’s and seeing as his wife went into labour, he was rightly not in class. There was a talk from a woman called Jo. I wasnt quite able to pick up where she came from but I understood that she was in the world of marketing or press? She spoke about what we should do to produce and plan a event. We were learning all about budgeting, “so what who cares”, who we would invite, if we would have any technical support, any refreshments supplied as most people expect this etc.

As our group wanted to have some form of giveaway, be that in a voucher form or discounted tickets, she had mentioned that even though we will be giving them out for free/discounted, some venues will not want to take part in this and even they have a price as the money has to come from somewhere.

She mentioned that we wound want to have a launch event to bring people in and get people in from different backgrounds.

she mentioned that the timing of the event was also important. She had asked people when they thought would be the best time and they mentioned that it would either be friday night or saturday during the day and id agree. However she said that people are not going to want to give up their friday night after work for this event and its the same with the saturday. Jo then went on to say that a thursday after work would be the best time.

She gave some good pointers on how to market our event. She mentioned that “coming soon” posters work well when we could attach QR codes so people can have almost a sneak peek of the event. Jo also reminded us about “mums net”. She said that the way in which you can bring families to an event is by having a post about the event on mums net.

0 notes

dwellordream · 3 years

Text

“...A lone woman could, if she spun in almost every spare minute of her day, on her own keep a small family clothed in minimum comfort (and we know they did that). Adding a second spinner – even if they were less efficient (like a young girl just learning the craft or an older woman who has lost some dexterity in her hands) could push the household further into the ‘comfort’ margin, and we have to imagine that most of that added textile production would be consumed by the family (because people like having nice clothes!).

At the same time, that rate of production is high enough that a household which found itself bereft of (male) farmers (for instance due to a draft or military mortality) might well be able to patch the temporary hole in the family finances by dropping its textile consumption down to that minimum and selling or trading away the excess, for which there seems to have always been demand. ...Consequently, the line between women spinning for their own household and women spinning for the market often must have been merely a function of the financial situation of the family and the balance of clothing requirements to spinners in the household unit (much the same way agricultural surplus functioned).

Moreover, spinning absolutely dominates production time (again, around 85% of all of the labor-time, a ratio that the spinning wheel and the horizontal loom together don’t really change). This is actually quite handy, in a way, as we’ll see, because spinning (at least with a distaff) could be a mobile activity; a spinner could carry their spindle and distaff with them and set up almost anywhere, making use of small scraps of time here or there.

On the flip side, the labor demands here are high enough prior to the advent of better spinning and weaving technology in the Late Middle Ages (read: the spinning wheel, which is the truly revolutionary labor-saving device here) that most women would be spinning functionally all of the time, a constant background activity begun and carried out whenever they weren’t required to be actively moving around in order to fulfill a very real subsistence need for clothing in climates that humans are not particularly well adapted to naturally. The work of the spinner was every bit as important for maintaining the household as the work of the farmer and frankly students of history ought to see the two jobs as necessary and equal mirrors of each other.

At the same time, just as all farmers were not free, so all spinners were not free. It is abundantly clear that among the many tasks assigned to enslaved women within ancient households. Xenophon lists training the enslaved women of the household in wool-working as one of the duties of a good wife (Xen. Oik. 7.41). ...Columella also emphasizes that the vilica ought to be continually rotating between the spinners, weavers, cooks, cowsheds, pens and sickrooms, making use of the mobility that the distaff offered while her enslaved husband was out in the fields supervising the agricultural labor (of course, as with the bit of Xenophon above, the same sort of behavior would have been expected of the free wife as mistress of her own household).

...Consequently spinning and weaving were tasks that might be shared between both relatively elite women and far poorer and even enslaved women, though we should be sure not to take this too far. Doubtless it was a rather more pleasant experience to be the wealthy woman supervising enslaved or hired hands working wool in a large household than it was to be one of those enslaved women, or the wife of a very poor farmer desperately spinning to keep the farm afloat and the family fed. The poor woman spinner – who spins because she lacks a male wage-earner to support her – is a fixture of late medieval and early modern European society and (as J.S. Lee’s wage data makes clear; spinners were not paid well) must have also had quite a rough time of things.

It is difficult to overstate the importance of household textile production in the shaping of pre-modern gender roles. It infiltrates our language even today; a matrilineal line in a family is sometimes called a ‘distaff line,’ the female half of a male-female gendered pair is sometimes the ‘distaff counterpart’ for the same reason. Women who do not marry are sometimes still called ‘spinsters’ on the assumption that an unmarried woman would have to support herself by spinning and selling yarn (I’m not endorsing these usages, merely noting they exist).

E.W. Barber (Women’s Work, 29-41) suggests that this division of labor, which holds across a wide variety of societies was a product of the demands of the one necessarily gendered task in pre-modern societies: child-rearing. Barber notes that tasks compatible with the demands of keeping track of small children are those which do not require total attention (at least when full proficiency is reached; spinning is not exactly an easy task, but a skilled spinner can very easily spin while watching someone else and talking to a third person), can easily be interrupted, is not dangerous, can be easily moved, but do not require travel far from home; as Barber is quick to note, producing textiles (and spinning in particular) fill all of these requirements perfectly and that “the only other occupation that fits the criteria even half so well is that of preparing the daily food” which of course was also a female-gendered activity in most ancient societies. Barber thus essentially argues that it was the close coincidence of the demands of textile-production and child-rearing which led to the dominant paradigm where this work was ‘women’s work’ as per her title.

(There is some irony that while the men of patriarchal societies of antiquity – which is to say effectively all of the societies of antiquity – tended to see the gendered division of labor as a consequence of male superiority, it is in fact male incapability, particularly the male inability to nurse an infant, which structured the gendered division of labor in pre-modern societies, until the steady march of technology rendered the division itself obsolete. Also, and Barber points this out, citing Judith Brown, we should see this is a question about ability rather than reliance, just as some men did spin, weave and sew (again, often in a commercial capacity), so too did some women farm, gather or hunt. It is only the very rare and quite stupid person who will starve or freeze merely to adhere to gender roles and even then gender roles were often much more plastic in practice than stereotypes make them seem.)

Spinning became a central motif in many societies for ideal womanhood. Of course one foot of the fundament of Greek literature stands on the Odyssey, where Penelope’s defining act of arete is the clever weaving and unweaving of a burial shroud to deceive the suitors, but examples do not stop there. Lucretia, one of the key figures in the Roman legends concerning the foundation of the Republic, is marked out as outstanding among women because, when a group of aristocrats sneak home to try to settle a bet over who has the best wife, she is patiently spinning late into the night (with the enslaved women of her house working around her; often they get translated as ‘maids’ in a bit of bowdlerization. Any time you see ‘maids’ in the translation of a Greek or Roman text referring to household workers, it is usually quite safe to assume they are enslaved women) while the other women are out drinking (Liv. 1.57). This display of virtue causes the prince Sextus Tarquinius to form designs on Lucretia (which, being virtuous, she refuses), setting in motion the chain of crime and vengeance which will overthrow Rome’s monarchy. The purpose of Lucretia’s wool-working in the story is to establish her supreme virtue as the perfect aristocratic wife.

...For myself, I find that students can fairly readily understand the centrality of farming in everyday life in the pre-modern world, but are slower to grasp spinning and weaving (often tacitly assuming that women were effectively idle, or generically ‘homemaking’ in ways that precluded production). And students cannot be faulted for this – they generally aren’t confronted with this reality in classes or in popular culture. ...Even more than farming or blacksmithing, this is an economic and household activity that is rendered invisible in the popular imagination of the past, even as (as you can see from the artwork in this post) it was a dominant visual motif for representing the work of women for centuries.”

- Bret Devereaux, “Clothing, How Did They Make It? Part III: Spin Me Right Round…”

#bret devereaux #spinning #textiles #weaving #ancient #medieval #history #writing #slavery

9K notes · View notes

tarysande · 3 years

Text

Oh no, I've been thinking.

Okay, I can't stop thinking about something ending-related. I don't know this for certain, but based on previous statements and such, it feels like the writers were always aiming for a bittersweet ending. Like, no matter what else happened or how the story evolved, come hell (lol) or high water, that ending couldn't just be happy. For reasons. I guess.

Now, I don't mind a bittersweet ending ... if it makes sense for the ending to be bittersweet.

I critique stories for a living. I'm literally taking a break from the developmental edit of someone's novel to write this post. And the persistent thought that bugs me about the Rory setup is that it is so artificial. Time travel is a pain in the narrative ass. Time travel suddenly introduced in the sixth season of a show that has never touched on time travel? As an editor, I probably would've pointed out that time travel for the purpose of angst, especially time travel without rules that make sense ("I don't know anything about time travel! Except I do know you have to take the most painful path!"), seemingly introduced as a final ploy to make that bittersweet ending work ... well, to me, it breaks the narrative contract they established with the audience. Your audience is going to be confused. An editor's job is to alert the writer to any potential confusion so it can be fixed before the story goes to print, etc. Confused audiences get mad, annoyed, frustrated. They feel hurt. They put down the book and don't pick it up again. Usually, writers don't want that. But they're so close to their work that they need a completely outside perspective to say, "Hey, I'm not sure you realize this, but..."

I mean, I keep referring to Rory as "deus ex daughter" because in literary terms, she is a blatant deus ex machina. Rory is the god in the machine of the Bittersweet Ending.

Now, I loved a lot of S6. I did. My overall feeling about the season is not negative. But ... I can't stop thinking about why the things I didn't like REALLY didn't work for me.

I loved the emotional growth we saw in Lucifer and Chloe facilitated by the question of parenting and parental love. I did. And I would have loved to see a lot of those notes hit not with an angel kid out of nowhere ... but with the daughter already in the picture. Especially because it would have circumvented the icky idea that a child has to be one's flesh and blood to induce such feelings. I also understand that coronavirus and Scarlett's age and schedule made this difficult. But I just can't swallow that the only way to wrap up the story of this show--a show about found family, non-traditional family, friendship, connection, FREE WILL, love in all its many shapes and forms and colors ... was to introduce a brand new character via a device (time travel) that fails to make sense almost every time it's used, no matter the medium. (And then had only that brand new character be there when her mother died. Don't even get me started. Ugh.)

If time travel was always going to be on the table, couldn't we have found a more plausible way to use it with the characters we already knew, loved, and had spent four or five seasons with? A time-travelling older Trixie, say? If you're going to use the impossible device, just ... twist it another way to make it work.

Okay. Okay. So, leaving Trixie aside for now just like the show did, let's say we leave everything about the season the same, even Rory. Do you know what ending makes more narrative sense?

Future Rory sacrificing herself by NOT forcing Lucifer to make a cruel and impossible "choice" so the baby that might have been her grows up with a family that loves her. Chloe's already pregnant. That's not going to be undone. And this nonsense of a "closed time loop" falls apart if you side-eye it for even a few seconds. The Rory who came from the future never exists except in the memories of those she met when she came back from that future. Chloe and Lucifer lose that daughter even as they gain the new one whose existence is not a tool of unrelenting fate because wow this show has always been about free will what the heck happened there yikes. And a choice made under the duress Chloe and Lucifer were under, forced out of them, and forcing them to "choose" a life apart for *handwave* Reasons has nothing to do with free will. A "choice" made at gunpoint is not a real choice. Future Rory basically bullied them into ensuring she got to exist--something, quite frankly, neither her parents would have done.

Instead, how much more appropriately bittersweet is it if Chloe and Lucifer lose that child while gaining one who, because of that angry time-travelling version, will never suffer as she did.

Also as an editor: the groundwork for my version is already laid, by the way. It should have been Rory learning about the importance of free will over fate. The importance of personal sacrifice. The importance of not thinking your young self knows best ... because experience and therapy will help rid you of that self-centered world view. That's the contract the writers made with us with this show. And Chloe and Lucifer have already BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT. (See: the end of S4.)

Furthermore, this season finally HAD Chloe and Lucifer DEAL WITH the only thing that actually would have contributed to a narrative, characterization-based reason for Lucifer to disappear: His history of running and his putting Chloe on a pedestal. Once they really talked that out, his "disappearance" became a Rory-induced trauma of inexplicable fate that flies in the face of all the progress Lucifer made over six seasons. (I would rather have had more of that and less of mysterious disappearing oh no plot.)

And I'm sorry, the "Once you get to Hell you're going to work 24/7" excuse given for why Lucifer won't be around and why he can't make time for Chloe until she's DEAD(????!???) is ... it's lame. If AMENADIEL AS GOD can make time for his kid's birthday party, I refuse to believe Lucifer can't work out some Hell/Earth-work/life balance. Never mind that in the show about partnerships, the Bittersweet Ending just ... destroyed it. Chloe was planning on being God's consultant; she could have helped Lucifer solve Hell's Trauma Mysteries (it's what she did with Jimmy, setting up that yeah, Lucifer could do it alone like he accidentally did with Lee, but doing it with HIS TRUTHSEEKING PARTNER would be more effective). Just as Lucifer could have continued helping HER solve some of the problems within "that corrupt little organization" of hers.

tl;dr: I think the writers fixated so completely on their version of Bittersweet that they missed all the foreshadowing, groundwork, and clues that were right there, already built into the story, poised for a different kind of ending than the one they once imagined. That's why so many parts of it feel almost-but-not-quite right and why these aspects are so off-putting. That's why it's just not ... organic. It's something squeezed into a box it grew out of ages ago.

Ironically, certain elements of this season involved the writers insisting on the FATE they decided long ago instead of letting the story and the characters have the FREE WILL to choose a different, more fitting, more organic ending--one that had long-since evolved past that original flavor of Bittersweet.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #trixie espinoza #aurora morningstar #deckerstar #lucifer meta #lucifer thoughts #lucifer spoilers #lucifer s6 #lucifer s6 spoilers #lucifer critical #i criticize from a place of love #i really do

446 notes · View notes

oceanics · 4 years

Text

LGBT+ books by authors of color

For those of us tired of LGBT+ romance always being featured between white characters, or from the perspective of white characters, here’s a list of LGBT+ novels by authors of color centered on characters of color.

Thank you so much @percyannabcth for your recs! ♡

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz: a beautiful mlm coming of age story between two brown latino boys. Personally, one of my favorite books (young adult).

We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia: first of a series set in fantasy Latin America with a main couple compromised of brown wlw (young adult).

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: enemies-to-lovers time travel fantasy novel featuring wlwoc (adult).

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan: I’ll admit, this one wasn’t my cup of tea, but I’m more the exception to the rule. Fantasy with main asian wlw. Heavy rape and abuse tw (young adult).

It’s Not Like It’s a Secret by Misa Sugiura: contemporary novel with a japanese protagonist that falls in love with a latina girl (young adult).

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie Mclemore: not a mlm or wlw story, but one with a latina protagonist and a love interest that’s a Pakistani trans boy (young adult).

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera: borrowing elements from both sci-fi and contemporary, this is a story about the hardships a Puerto Rican boy from the Bronx has with coming on his own. Suicide and homophobia tw (young adult)

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong: beautiful novel that tackles a lot of themes, including coming to terms with being LGBT+, from the point of view of an Asian man (adult).

Tell Me Again How A Crush Should Feel by Sara Farizan: coming of age contemporary novel about a persian girl that falls in love with one of her friends (young adult).

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender: contemporary novel in a high-school setting about a black trans boy learning to navigate the dificulties that are put in his path due to his identity. Transphobia tw (young adult).

Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender and Kheryn Callender: a tale of magical realism about a girl whose luck was sealed when she was born on the dreaded day of a hurricane (middle grade).

Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera: Juliet, a Puerto Rican lesbian, moves out of her family’s home and leaves to explore what her identity means both for herself and for those around her (new adult).

Ash by Malinda Lo: a wlw retelling of Cinderella with a girl of color as a protagonist and a very quick, entertaining read (young adult).

A Line in the Dark by Malinda Lo: a contemporary novel where the main character, an asian girl called Jess Wong, used to being on the sidelines, becomes the protagonist of her own story as she falls in love with her best friend (young adult).

Let’s Talk About Love by Claire Kann: Alice, an asexual black girl, learns to navigate her sexuality and how the perception of others affects her (or not) after a break up with her girlfriend and the start of adult life (adult).

Seven Tears at High Tide by C. B. Lee: Kevin Luong, an asian-american guy, asks the ocean for one summer where he can find love - and a selkie boy hears his pleading and seeks him out, willing to give him exactly that (young adult).

Not Your Sidekick by C. B. Lee: an intern girl with no powers at a superhero school starts getting notes from a mysterious person that goes by “M”. Bisexual main character, and the sequel includes a trans boy on the main cast, both people of color (young adult).

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum: prepare for your heart to be torn out by this not-quite psychological thriller about two boys in a codependent relationship that must learn to cope with their less-than-ideal circumstances, and their also less-than-ideal dynamic. Read the book’s description for potential trigger warnings (young adult).

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo: a series of short tales that tells the stories of british black women through different years, including the those of lgbt+ women (adult).

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson: when a girl’s attempt to get a scolarship to the college of her dreams falls through, her only choice if she wants her life to keep going on the path she’s set for herself is to become prom queen. It’s just too bad that the competition is so cute (young adult).

Final Draft by Riley Redgate: an 18 year old writer, who happens to be a plus-size pansexual ecuatorian girl, learns the perils of adulthood and gains life experience in this extremely relatable contemporary novel (young adult).

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera: a heart-wrenching novel about two boys that meet up to live the entirety of their life in a day - a day which happens to be their last. (death tw) (young adult).

Adaptation by Malinda Lo: when strange events turn the American government into a paranoid mess, Reese wakes up with a month of her life gone from her memories. This time, as our main character finds herself pulled in two directions, the love triangle is bisexual (young adult).

The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum: a slow-burn, slow-paced romance between two women that will leave the reader bewildered and feeling like they have a new understanding of life, with a touch of sci-fi (young adult).

She of the Mountains by Vivek Shraya: an illustrated novel that touches on gender, sexuality and a re-imagining of Hindu mythology (adult).

The Fifth Season by N. K. Jemisin: fantasy novel set in an apocalyptic world, with a cast made up mainly of black characters, that includes polyamory in the first book and wlw relationships on the latter ones (adult). Be wary of possible trigger warnings.

Note: all the links redirect to The Storygraph, a Black-owned site currently on Beta! Consider checking it out and giving it your support - it lets you import all of your books and shelves from Goodreads, but unlike Goodreads, it’s not owned and ran by Amazon.

#ania speaks #txt #to read #lit #also bc it's always tsoa rwrb tsoa rbwb #and its cool!! i adore both!! but let's support authors of color too #also most of these are own voices so they are from lgbt authors of color #also i either read all of those myself or they come from Trusted Sources #so in theory they should be qualitay

6K notes · View notes

julchenawesome · 3 years

Text

Encanto AU but in ATLA: Bumi is like Mirabel.

(Yep. I think I'm not the first one to think that the plot of Encanto would fit in the Gaang Family)

Like the title said, Bumi is Mirabel, because both of them had no bending/gift.

It would be when Bumi is young, still the oldest bro.

Aang and Abuela had some things in common, because both lose important people in a traumatic event, and both the world/village trust that they can resolve their problems and put what the people's need first of theirself. But, when Bumi didn't show any talent on bending, he feels worried. When Kya is born and grow up to be a waterbender, and then Tenzin...well, he focus in this two, specially Tenzin and the duties they had as the last airbenders.

Katara and Julieta are both healers, and in the AU Katara would try to make Bumi feel that he is part of the family even if he doesn't had a bending.

Kya and Tenzin are like Luisa and Isabela. Kya feels the pressure of help everybody for her waterbending (but still close to Bumi). Tenzin is the "perfect golden child", and with Bumi had a hard relationship. Aang would love that Tenzin and Lin would be a couple, and their "love story" is more like an arranged marriage since their childhood.

Pepa and Felix: I would said it, are Zuko and Sokka. Just because I imagine Zuko trying to be the FireLord and not showing clearly emotions and had to act like he is so calm, and not stressed. And Sokka, well, he is close to Bumi, and after getting married with the FireLord, is the person who accepts Zuko with his awkwardness. They had their daughter (thanks Mai), a shy Izumi, who is so invisible in her ways and after learning the abilities from Piandao and Papa Zuko (as the Blue Spirit), she hears everything about everyone. So, she is like Dolores.

But also Toph is like Dolores. Because she knows when someone is lying, and also she finds out about "that". She had Lin and Suyin, and is "close" to Suki. Suyin is a trouble child with her metalbending, a little bit mischievous, and Lin has the weight of being the future wife of Tenzin (Kya is in love with her, Toph knows that), but also wants to learn about kyoshi warrior's fight style.

And there is someone we didn't talk yet. It isn't Mai, neither Ty Lee. We are talking about SHH SHHH...

Wedon'ttalkaboutAzulaNoNoNoWE DON'T TALK ABOUT AZULA!

(A clue: she is with Iroh in House Arreste in his tea shop. Or is what the Gaang thinks she is)

Azula would not had visions, but follow Iroh in trip to the Spirit World (idk how they will do, but is Iroh...) and maybe she is less crazy. Maybe she cared about the child who is, in a certain way, as her brother. But with a better sense of humor.

So this is what I had in my mind. I want to draw and more things.

Just imagine the songs:

The Familia Madrigal---The Avatar's Family.

Waiting for a Miracle---Bumi singing about his wishes.

Surface Pressure---Kya/Lin being honest about herself.

We Don't Talk about Bruno---We don't talk about Azula, with Zukka(PepaxFelix), Suyin(Camilo), Tenzin(Isabela), Kya and Izumi(Dolores), and obviously Bumi.

What else can I do?----It would be with Tenzin, but...i think it would fit with Lin. (I almost forgot this song xd )

All of you---The entire Gaang and family.

That's the post :)

Tell me what you think about it.

117 notes · View notes

thevalleyisjolly · 4 years

Note

Hi there! If you feel up to it, would you be willing to expand a bit more on the idea of white creators creating poc characters who are ‘internally white’, especially in a post-racialized or racism-free setting & how to avoid it? It’s something I’m very concerned about but I haven’t encountered a lot of info about it outside of stories set in real world settings. Thanks & have a good day!

Hey, thanks for asking, anon! It’s a pretty nuanced topic, and different people will have different takes on it. I’ll share my thoughts on it, but do keep in mind that other people of colour may have different thoughts on the matter, and this is by no means definitive! These are things I’ve observed through research, trial and error, my own experiences, or just learning from other writers.

The first thing I guess I want to clarify is that I personally am not opposed to a society without racism in fiction. It’s exhausting and frankly boring when the only stories that characters of colour get are about racism! So it’s a relief sometimes to just get to see characters of colour exist in a story without dealing with racism. That being said, I feel like a lot of the time when creators establish their settings as “post-racial,” they avoid racism but they also avoid race altogether. Not aesthetically -they may have a few or even many characters with dark skin- but the way the characters act and talk and relate to the world are “race-less” (which tends to end up as default white American/British or whatever place the creator comes from). Which I have complicated thoughts on, but the most obvious thing that springs to mind is how such an approach implies (deliberately or not) that racism is all there is to the way POC navigate the world. It’s definitely a significant factor, particularly for POC in Western countries, but it’s not the only thing! There’s so much more to our experiences than just racial discrimination, and it’s a shame that a lot of “post-racial” or “racism-free” settings seem to overlook that in their eagerness to not have racism (or race) in their stories.

A quick go-to question I ask when I look at characters of colour written/played by white creators is: if this was a story or transcript I was reading, with no art or actors or what have you, would I be able to tell that this character is a character of colour? How does the creator signal to the audience that this is a character of colour? A lot of the time, this signal stops after the physical description - “X has dark skin” and then that’s all! (We will not discuss the issue of racial stereotypes in depth, but it should be clear that those are absolutely the wrong way to indicate a character of colour).

This expands to a wider issue of using dark skin as a be-all-end-all indication of diversity, which is what I mean by “aesthetic” characters of colour (I used the term “internally white” originally but upon further reflection, it has some very loaded implications, many of which I’m personally familiar with, so I apologize for the usage). Yes, the character may not “look” white, but how do they interact with the world? Where do they come from? What is their background, their family? A note: this can be challenging with diaspora stories in the real world and people being disconnected (forcibly or otherwise) from their heritage (in which case, those are definitely stories that outsiders should not tell). So let’s look at fantasy. Even the most original writer in the world bases their world building off existing things in the real world. So what cultures are you basing your races off of? If you have a dark skinned character in your fantasy story, what are the real world inspirations and equivalents that you drew from, and how do you acknowledge that in a respectful, non-stereotyped way?

(Gonna quickly digress here and say that there are already so many stories about characters of colour disconnected from their heritage because ‘They didn’t grow up around other people from that culture’ or ‘They moved somewhere else and grew up in that dominant culture’ or ‘It just wasn’t important to them growing up’ and so on. These are valid stories, and important to many people! But when told by (usually) white creators, they’re also used, intentionally or not, as a sort of cop-out to avoid having to research or think about the character’s ethnicity and how that influences who they are. So another point of advice: avoid always situating characters outside of their heritage. Once or twice explored with enough nuance and it can be an interesting narrative, all the time and it starts being a problem)

Another thing I want to clarify at this point is that it’s a contentious issue about whether creators should tell stories that aren’t theirs, and different people will have different opinions. For me personally, I definitely don’t think it’s inherently bad for creators to have diverse characters in their work, and no creator can live every experience there is. That being said, there are caveats for how such characters are handled. For me personally, I follow a few rules of thumb which are:

Is this story one that is appropriate for this creator to tell? Some experiences are unique and lived with a meaningful or complex history and context behind them and the people to whom those experiences belong do not want outsiders to tell those stories.

To what extent is the creator telling this story? Is it something mentioned as part of the narrative but not significantly explored or developed upon? Does it form a core part of the story or character? There are some stories that translate across cultures and it’s (tentatively) ok to explore more in depth, like immigration or intergenerational differences. There are some stories that don’t, and shouldn’t be explored in detail (or even at all) by people outside those cultures.

How is the creator approaching this story and the people who live it? To what extent have they done their research? What discussions have they had with sensitivity consultants/readers? What kind of respect are they bringing to their work? Do they default to stereotypes and folk knowledge when they reach the limits of their research? How do they respond to feedback or criticism when audiences point things that they will inevitably get wrong?

Going back to the “race-less” point, I think that creators need to be careful that they’re (respectfully) portraying characters of colour as obvious persons of colour. With a very definite ‘no’ on stereotyping, of course, so that’s where the research comes in (which should comprise of more than a ten minute Google search). If your setting is in the real world, what is the background your character comes from and how might that influence the way they act or talk or see the world? If your setting is in a fantasy world, same question! Obviously, avoid depicting things which are closed/exclusive to that culture (such as religious beliefs, practices, etc) and again, avoid stereotyping (which I cannot stress enough), but think about how characters might live their lives and experience the world differently based on the culture or the background they come from.

As an example of a POC character written/played well by a white person, I personally like Jackson Wei and Cindy Wong from Dimension 20’s The Unsleeping City, an urban fantasy D&D campaign. Jackson and Cindy are NPCs played by the DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who did a good job acknowledging their ethnicity without resorting to stereotypes and while giving them their own unique characters and personalities. The first time he acted as Cindy, I leapt up from my chair because she was exactly like so many old Chinese aunties and grandmothers I’ve met. The way Jackson and Cindy speak and act and think is very Chinese (without being stereotyped), but at the same time, there’s more to their characters than being Chinese, they have unique and important roles in the story that have nothing to do with their ethnicity. So it’s obvious that they’re people of colour, that they’re Chinese, but at the same time, the DM isn’t overstepping and trying to tell stories that aren’t his to tell. All while not having the characters face any racism, as so many “post-racialized” settings aim for, because there are quite enough stories about that!

There a couple factors that contribute to the positive example I gave above. The DM is particularly conscientious about representation and doing his research (not to say that he never messes up, but he puts in a lot more effort than the average creator), and the show also works with a lot of sensitivity consultants. Which takes me to the next point - the best way to portray characters of colour in your story is to interact with people from that community. Make some new friends, reach out to people! Consume media by creators of colour! In my experience so far, the most authentic Chinese characters have almost universally been created/written/played by Chinese creators. Read books, listen to podcasts, watch shows created by people of colour. Apart from supporting marginalized creators, you also start to pick up how people from that culture or heritage see themselves and the world, what kind of stories they have to tell, and just as importantly, what kind of stories they want being told or shared. In other words, the best way to portray an authentic character of colour that is more than just the colour of their skin is to learn from actual people of colour (without, of course, treating them just as a resource and, of course, with proper credit and acknowledgement).

Most importantly, this isn’t easy, and you will absolutely make mistakes. I think the most important thing to keep in mind is that you will mess up. No matter how well researched you are, how much respect you have for other cultures, how earnestly you want to do this right, you will at some point do something that makes your POC audience uncomfortable or even offends them. Then, your responsibility comes with your response. Yes, you’ve done something wrong. How do you respond to the people who are hurt or disappointed? Do you ignore them, or double down on your words, or try to defend yourself? Just as importantly, what are you planning to do about it in the future? If you have a second chance, what are you going to do differently? You will make mistakes at some point. So what are you going to do about them? That, I think, is an even more important question than “How can I do this right?” You may or may not portray something accurately, but when you get something wrong, how are you going to respond?

Essentially, it all comes down to your responsibility as a creator. As a creator, you have a responsibility to do your due diligence in research, to remain respectful to your work and to your audience, and to be careful and conscientious about how you choose to create things. It’s not about getting things absolutely perfect or being the most socially conscious creator out there, it’s about recognizing your responsibilities as a creator with a platform, no matter how big or small, and taking responsibility for your work.

In summary:

Research, research, research

Avoid the obvious no-no’s (stereotypes, tokenization, fetishization, straight up stealing from other cultures, etc) and think critically about what creative choices you’re making and why

Do what you’re doing now, and reach out to people (who have put themselves out there as a resource). There are tons of resources out there by people of colour, reach out when you’re not sure about something or would like some advice!

Responsibility, responsibility, responsibility

Thank you for reaching out! Good luck with your work!

#the valley is posting #thanks anon!#writing advice #hope this helps! if another POC has something to add - please go ahead!

574 notes · View notes

a-master-procrastinator · 3 years

Text

Long ass post about the Eternal family not being a copy-paste from ATLA (aka I like the memes but my god can you please stop)

Because some people truly think that Vaylin is off-brand Azula, Arcann is Zuko and so on.

It's. Called. A. Trope. (I mean how often do we come across abusive manipulative fathers in media? Mothers who couldn't much to change anything? Children, desperately looking for their parent's approval no matter what?)

Of course, you have to consider the fact that the writing of ATLA is simply better than of KotFE/ET, so this might have been one of the reasons why people say that.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender, Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions!

Okay, so here's my unprofessional, maybe biased, not super deep take.

(not going to mention that all of them are members of royal, ruling family, kinda obvious)

What roles do they play in their stories? Well, both Valkorion and Ozai are main antagonists, but their presence throughout the story is very different. Ozai is rarely shown in first two seasons, we don't even see his face until season 3. He doesn't have a direct connection to the protagonist, they only meet at the very end of the show, and Ozai's role is to pose a threat to the world, while Aang's is to save it. Valkorion, on the other hand, is constantly on the screen, interacting with the main character, challenging their viewpoint and influencing them directly. His end goal is similar to Ozai's (destroy everything and be the only ruler of the his nation), but with one major difference - he's trapped in Outlander's mind, so to achieve his goal Valkorion attempts to take control of the main character. Their interactions play important role in the story, and we spend a lot of time with Valkorion.

In addition to that, their relationship with children are also not exactly the same. It seems like Azula is Ozai's favorite and Zuko is a failure in his eyes until he meets his expectations, and the same goes with Vaylin, Arcann and Valkorion, right? Well, partially. Indeed, Valkorion and Ozai's treat their sons in similar ways (are disappointed in them until they meet their expectation by doing something that goes against their morals), but when it comes to Vaylin and Azula, it's not that easy. See, Valkorion claims that Vaylin was always his favorite creation (even though we know it's actually his empire), and he certainly seems to take pride in her potential in the Force. But her power is the very reason he's afraid of his own daughter, and in this fear Valkorion literally locks Vaylin away and allows to put her through physical and mental torture just to make sure she won't become a threat, won't overpower him. Maybe he thought of her better than of Arcann, but she wasn't his favored child for sure. I don't want to say that Azula hasn't experienced abuse from Ozai, but for the most part he clearly favored her over Zuko. He has never shown fear of Azula's power and abilities (or at least I haven't noticed), quite the opposite - allowed her to do a lot, as long as she brings results.

I could also mention their slightly different characterization (mostly that we get more characterization of Valkorion, get to learn his motivations, views, philosophy and all that, also he's portrayed as more nuanced, even if he not really is) and role in their respective governments (ozai is one of many Fire Lords and arguably not the greatest, while Valkorion is a god to citizens of Zakuul, their only Immortal Emperor), but those are details, and I think you get the point.

What's similar: role of the main antagonist, manipulative and abusive father, goal of destruction of everything that isn't their nation/empire, relationship with disgraced son.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with the main character, relationship with daughter, role in their societies.

Senya and Ursa are even less similar. Yes, they both are mothers who love their children, but have to leave them, but these are probably the only things they have in common. Just as with Ozai and Valkorion's presence throughout the story, Ursa is only shown in flashbacks (for obvious reasons), and Senya is one of major characters in KotFE and (a bit less major) in KotET. Ursa leaves because she has to kill Azulon in order to save Zuko, and later isn't present in the story (I'm aware that her fate is told in comics, but we aren't talking about it). Senya leaves because when she tries to take children with her, they refuse, and she understands that she can't force them to, nor she can help them to break free from Valkorion's manipulations. For a long time she's absent from Arcann ad Vaylin's lives, but at the time of game events she attempts to save her children and stop the madness and destruction they've caused, and it isn't a small part of the story.

I also want to add that their relationship with Ozai and Valkorion are also different, but can't say much about Ursa. I heard that she didn't choose this marriage and suffered emotional (and maybe physical???) abuse from Ozai. I can say with confidence, though, that Senya genuinely loved Valkorion, and strangely enough, he seems to at very least respect her. But, of course, this wasn't the best marriage either.

Plus, we see more of Senya's relationship with Vaylin than Arcann or Thexan, but with Ursa we see her more with Zuko than Azula. Just a detail to remember.

(also Senya is simply a better character but that besides the point, moving on. in this house we stand Senya)

What's similar: role of loving and caring mother, abandoning their family at some point.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with husband, characterization in general.

Boy, where do I even begin. Vaylin and Azula are similar in that they are both extremely powerful (one is firebending prodigy, the other is potentially stronger than Valkorion), both are cruel "craaaaazy" (i hate that cliché), both are younger sisters, have serious mother issues (seemingly more so than father issues), both go through betrayal of people they could always rely on, which eventually leads to their downfall. But when I took a look at their personal arcs, it became clear that they aren't the same (unfortunately, Vaylin's arc is very rushed and underdeveloped, but we'll have to go with what we have and my personal view, sorry).

There's a really good video about writing corruption and madness, and I'm going to base my thoughts on it. To summarise it: a good corruption arc should have 4 components:

- the character has a specific goal (or a goal and subgoals);

- in pursuit of said goal they become the cause of a significant event that brings serious consequences;

- as the result of these consequences, character abandons their morals, ideals or a code in pursuit of goal;

- character either will not achieve their goal or will succeed, but it won't be enough to satisfy them.

And then the author brings Azula's arc as one of the best examples of compelling story of corruption (so basically, she represents it perfectly). In short, Azula's main goals are perfection and control, and subgoals help achieve the main ones. In pursuit of these goals, Azula causes Mai and Ty Lee to betray her (by pushing them too far to do something they wouldn't do), which then causes her to become paranoid, which makes her to attempt controlling everything and everyone around her, *breathes* which makes her lose control over herself and ....

Now, I thought if Vaylin's arc could fit into a corruption one, and next part will be based a lot on my assumptions and personal view of her character (plus rushed writing doesn't help), but I think yes (or at least mostly). The difference is in goals, ideals and details.

While the story strongly makes us think that Vaylin's goal is freedom (or control over her life and everything around her) or power and destruction, I think it's actually self-determination (which was said by Tenebrae in 6.2) and feeling safe. Let me explain (and here I thought this would be a short comparison). Sure, when Valkorion caged Vaylin on Nathema, he took choices and control over her life from his daughter. But let's not forget whom Vaylin blames for this (even more than Valkorion): her own mother, and I think this details tell us that the most important thing that Vaylin lost on Nathema is feeling safe. Then, after Arcann brought her home, I assume Vaylin still didn't feel safe enough under Valkorion's rule, still too afraid that he'd simply send her back to that hellish place.

It's when Valkorion is struck down Vaylin finally has a feeling of personal safety, even if she isn't the one on the throne. Why? Because back on Nathema there were two people who haven't turned on her - Arcann and Thexan (yes, this is also a huge assumption, bc the game states that only Thexan visited her, but it doesn't make much sense).

I've always noticed (and I'm not alone in this) that her behavior in Fallen Empire is different from the way she acted in Eternal Throne. Most likely bc of rushed writing, but I see a character driven reason here. In first of these expansions, Vaylin is the second person in power on Zakuul, and with Arcann being in charge, person she can trust more than any other living being, she feels safe - she can test her power, and now Valkorion won't prevent it, she can do pretty much everything she wishes, and the most Arcann will do about this is mildly complain (without blaming her). Really would be nice if we got to see any normal hobbies of Vaylin (like wasn't there something about books or art?), but I digress. She might have some questions about Arcann's tactics, but they get along just fine. The important thing to note is Vaylin not seeking to hunt the Outlander personally, to rule or conquer the rest of the galaxy, or trying to achieve absolute freedom or power. She's kinda there.

This, however, changes when Arcann doesn't allow Vaylin to kill Senya. Their relationship was getting somewhat worse towards the end of KotFE, but this is a turning event Vaylin caused by attempting to strike her mother. By saving the person Vaylin blames for all the trauma from sending her to Nathema, Arcann threatened her feeling of safety. And now Vaylin starts to believing that to achieve safety she now needs to kill people who hurt her (that's why she's so determined to find Senya and Arcann), take the throne and hunt down Outlander (she was manipulated by SCORPIO to these subgoals).

(The following is the weakest, I'll admit, but I hope I can at least express what I see). So, in trying to achieve goals she didn't want before Vaylin loses in self-determination, being either driven by overwhelming anger or manipulated by others (SCORPIO or Commander on Odessen), desperately trying to accomplish anything, or even goes against her morals (like by erasing GEMINI's free will protocols, when earlier she agreed that freedom to choose is important; or breaking the deal on Odessen). All of these result in her downfall.

But even this isn't the end. The key difference between arcs of Azula Vaylin lies in it's resolution, or that Vaylin have a chance to overcome corruption in the main narrative (and Azula doesn't. again, not including comics here, sorry). After death, Vaylin is again controlled by Valkorion in Outlander's mind. First time physically (she can't resist it), second time mentally. This is where Vaylin has to choose - kill brother who betrayed her and Commander who killed her, or go against Valkorion, person responsible for almost all of her pain and trauma. She has t choose by herself, and I think it's a good start.

Now, before 6.2 we all thought Vaylin was dead for good, but that story update hinted at possibility of her coming back to life. What I like to think is that now that she dealt with people responsible for her trauma (helped defeat Valkorion and actually for once listened to Senya), Vaylin can now have a different life, finding herself with support of someone she doesn't hold a grudge against and who treats her well (Satele, I mean).

I'm so sorry for going into details, but I needed this long explanation to present the point (and I suck at explanations). As said before, this is my version of her arc, and most likely wrong interpretation, but even with personal freedom of choice, Vaylin character differs from Azula a lot.

Need I mention that Vaylin relationship with Arcann and Valkorion are drastically different from those between Azula, Zuko and Ozai?

(Also a little detail - with royal family of Fire Nation, Azula is the golden child, while with Tiralls it's actually Thexan, not Vaylin).

What's similar: role of extremely powerful, emotionally damaged daughter with little to no regard towards others, close people betraying them, resulting in their downfall.

What's different: characterization, role in the narrative, relationship with father and brother.

Arcann and Zuko is the most difficult part, but I still believe that calling Arcann just a cheap copy of Zuko is incorrect.

So, they fall into role of less successful son, always getting disapproval from father, being in shadow of more talented sibling, both obsessed with capturing the main character but ending up helping them end the war after going through a redemption arc with help of caring family member. Even both have scars on left side of face. Yeah, seems similar. I still think they are different characters.

Let's start with their relationships with family. In Valkorion section I said that his attitude towards Arcann is similar to that of Ozai towards Zuko, so not going to spend too much time here. However, there's slight difference - Zuko didn't kill his father even he had a perfect opportunity (bc it wasn't his goal), Arcann did (bc it was one of his goals), which says something about their characterizations.

Zuko and Ursa were shown to have a good mother-son relationship, and it played a role in Zuko's character. With Arcann and Senya, we don't really know (not much was shown in expansions). We know Arcann didn't hate his mother, but possibly didn't have warm memories of her either. The reason is most likely, like Senya said, her children wanted nothing to do with her (which is a bit untrue about Vaylin, but okay) and leaned more towards Valkorion. We need to remember that on Zakuul Valkorion isn't just one of many great leaders, he's the greatest, and seen as a god by most citizens, so safe to assume the same would apply to his children as well.

Zuko and Azula's siblingship (i'm out of words) is a bit similar to Arcann and Vaylin's in way of brother knowing that his sister isn't good, but still caring about them (even if not showing). At least it's what I saw. What's different is how Azula treats Zuko, compared to how Vaylin treats Arcann. I think Azula showed compassion or concern for Zuko maybe twice, but I'm not entirely convinced that it was 100% sincere. Vaylin, on the other hand, seems to trust and care about Arcann (with bits of sass and questioning his life choices), and switching to complete opposite after him saving Senya. Also, I don't she ever called Arcann a failure in their father's eyes.

Now I want to say that their roles in stories aren't the same either. Sure, both are introduced to us as antagonists, but in reality, Zuko was never a true antagonist (we get to learn this somewhere mid-season 1), when Arcann remains the main antagonist for whole of KotFE. Zuko didn't start a war and didn't participate in conquest of other nations too much, his main goal was to capture the Avatar so to restore his honor (and deserve his father's forgiveness). Honestly, I think it's safe to say the Zuko is one of two main protagonists of ATLA. Why does Arcann want to capture the Outlander? Solely because his father's spirit still lives inside this person's mind, and the best solution to keep Valkorion away from the galaxy is not letting the Outlander free (hence the carbonite freezing). And Arcann doesn't want or need Valkorion's forgiveness when he attempts to kill him (or kills him, depending on your choice. anyway, his action directly leads to Valkorion's "death"). And right after that he becomes a ruler of Zakuul and begins the conquest of Republic, Sith Empire and everything he can reach (the reasoning behind this is still unclear to me though; maybe because he was raised with ruling Zakuul in mind and he didn't anything else, idk). Point is, he's responsible for war and main's character imprisonment, which makes him the main antagonist of KotFE. They have it the opposite ways - Zuko starts as disgraced prince, supported by a little group of people, and in the end he's recognized and appreciated by his nation, and Arcann starts as respected by his empire, later becoming less and less loved, until some groups start rebelling his rule, and in the end he doesn't get to rule Zakuul again.

This leads me to their morals. See, Zuko didn't have the worst morals in Fire Nation, even more, he expressed care for loyals soldiers of his nation before getting punished by Ozai. During first season (and about a half of second one) his views on other nations are what he was taught before. However, these views are challenged by travelling in Earth Kingdom, witnessing people suffering from war Fire Nation started and hating its people (you already know all of this), and with this he comes through final stage of redemption when he's back home. Unfortunately, Arcann doesn't go through this, and he's shown to be more ruthless.

Alright, when it comes to their redemption arcs, well let's say they are different (both in quality and the way they go through it), I'm just a bit tired of long explanations at this point. Zuko's arc is one of the best ever put on television, and Arcann's... well, it definitely has potential, but is criminally underdeveloped (there are other people who will explain it better than I ever could).

What's similar: role of disgraced son, living in shadow of their sibling, serious injuries on the left side of face (though with different meanings), obsession with capturing the main character, having a redemption arc.

What's different: role in the narrative, role in their society, characterization, relationship with sister and mother, different end goals (before redemption), paths to redemption.

#ah. ofc it didn't show in the tag bc of the youtube link. ofc. gonna be down bc of this)#hey look at me rambling about something only maybe 2 people take seriously #also i noticed that parental characters are better in swtor and children characters are better in atla. do what you want with this #it's 3:30 am i should be sleeping but here instead writing this #(forgive if i have some spelling mistakes. brain shutting down but i won't be at peace if i don't post it right now)#okay so if you have thoughts on this... you really don't have to waste time on this #i really only wrote this because i was annoyed by some peeps on reddit claiming vaylin is off-brand with a straight face #(and then posted this on tumblr bc i don't want to suffer those people on reddit)#what am i doing with my time #(not gonna tag atla bc it's not really about it)#swtor #arcann #vaylin #valkorion #senya tirall #kotfe #kotet #pauletta's babbling #pls send help #(or oc aks to give me some free serotonin but no obligations ofc)

51 notes · View notes

typingtess · 2 years

Video

youtube

NCIS: Los Angeles Season 13 Rewatch: “Sundown”

The basics: The father of a dead Marine hijacks a bus to find out the truth about his daughter’s death.

Written by: Lee A. Carlisle wrote or co-wrote “Golden Days”, “Reentry”, “Into the Breach”, “Concours D’Elegance” and “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”. Carlise has been working as a story editor on the program from “Alsiyadun” in season 11 through the season 12 finale.

Directed by: Suzanne Saltz directed “Outside the Lines” and “Murder of Crows”.

Guest stars of note: Charles Malik Whitfield as Gary DeMayo, Kiff Vanderheuvel as Carl, Mo Radvanich as Rita, Jacqueline Obradors as LAPD Captain Maya Lopez, Deidre Henry as Rachel DeMayo, Tatiana Carr as Jackie and Walter Belenky as Lawrence Kerr

Our heroes: Right a terrible wrong.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Would have killed for foster parents like Kensi and Deeks. Sam: Hostage negotiator. Kensi: Has high cover as the team goes after the sniper. Deeks: A rare teaming with Callen. Fatima: Working PT everyday just to get back to normal mobility. Rountree: Damien Robinson from the LA Register. Kilbride: Keeping the SecNav in the loop.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Comrade Callen. Sam: Enjoying a cold beer on the newly found deck. Kensi: Stalking out other couples looking to adopt. Deeks: Sure some of the other adopting parents are flat-earthers. Fatima: Unhappy with peg leg jokes. Rountree: Happy with his new desk. Kilbride: Sharing a beer with Callen and Sam.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Not a Hetty episode.

Who's down with OTP: Deeks does a good job of having his own “more being, less doing” conversation with Kensi.

Who's down with BrOTP: An unusual pairing of Callen and Deeks makes for a lovely conversation in Callen’s car about becoming a parent and how much Callen would have loved parents likes Kensi and Deeks.

Fashion review: Callen is in his grey checked button-down shirt. Blue-grey, long-sleeve tee-shirt for Sam. In their adoptive parents gear, it is a white, button-down blouse for Kensi and a pink polo shirt for Deeks. Fatima is wearing a sand colored jacket over a white turtleneck. Long-sleeve black henley for Rountree. Dark blue three-piece suit for the Admiral over a blue checked dress shirt and a red pattern tie.

Music: อยู่หรือไป (feat. ตาเนม) by G-Bear being played on the bus in the teaser. The aptly titled “Girl in the War” by Josh Ritter is playing when Gary DeMayo is being arrested.

Any notable cut scene: No.

Quote: There is so much good dialogue in this episode.

DeMayo: “I'm sorry, baby. I had to. It's the only way I get them to listen. And I was right. They're looking into Kyra's case again.” Rachel: “I know. S-So can't you just let everyone go now?” DeMayo: “Not until she's cleared. I have to keep the pressure on. Look, else they're just gonna push us aside. We're just gonna be another Black family in pain to ignore.”

Anything else: An LA city bus is making its way through the downtown area. While there are a few people on the bus – an older woman knitting, a student doing some last minute homework – a middle age man isn’t too happy with a young woman listening to some Thai music on 11 (“This is Spinal Tap” reference). The man asks the woman to turn it down. When she doesn’t, in fact the makes it louder, he pulls out his badge. No more Thai music as the bus pulls into its next stop.

A Black man enters the bus with a gun. He starts ordering the passengers to the back of the bus. The man with the badge tries to grab the gun and the two struggle. A shot is fired, the man with the badge groans and collapses. The gunman orders the passengers to take the injured man to the back of the bus.

Pulling out a deadman’s switch, the gunman has a bomb in a duffle bag. If someone tries to take the deadman’s switch from him, the bus explodes. Walking to the front of the bus, the gunman disables the security camera with extreme prejudice.

In the boatshed, Callen is reviewing some paperwork when Sam arrives with coffee. Sam jokes about Callen recruiting Russians (well, he did with Zasha) and calling Agent Carlson (nice callback). Callen has a search warrant for Katya’s safety-deposit box. He has several of Katya’s passports and reports, dirt really, on several high ranking Russian intelligence officers. Sam sees the dirt as an insurance policy against Katya’s bosses.

Unfortunately, the safety-deposit box is old. Katya hadn’t been to the bank in over five years – before she was sent to prison. The box was prepaid. Sam comes across what Callen sees as “one strange item” – an invoice. Katya is storing something with Crusciel & Crusciel, a fine-art investment house. Sam doesn’t see Katya as a collector. Since there is an inventory number on the invoice, Callen is going to have Fatima check it out as well as go through Katya’s fake passport aliases. Sam is happy to have some “good leverage on a Russian, no offense, Comrade Callen.”

Sitting at his new desk, Rountree seems excited. Fatima makes her way in with a cane and a desire not to hear peg leg jokes. Roundtree wouldn’t do that, OK he would. He asks about her recovery. It is not going as quickly as she’d like but “I ain’t got time to bleed.” Rountree recognizes the movie quote from “Predator”. Fatima is proud of Rountree for upping his 80’s movies game. Rountree is all in for a “badass, invisible alien.”

Fatima says the movies get it all wrong about getting shot. She’s doing daily physical therapy just to get back her basic mobility – “They don’t show you that in a Stallone flick.” Fatima marvels that Callen got back to work after being shot five times. Rountree wonders if that’s why Callen is cranky sometimes. Fatima’s tablet beeps – they have a case.

Outside an adoption seminar, Kensi and Deeks are looking at the other perspective parents. Kensi is more doing the stake out, Deeks is there for an informational session about the process of adoption. Kensi thinks the seminar makes what they’re doing more real. Deeks can’t believe Kensi thinks they’ll be judged on the seminar. Deeks understands they don’t have the most normal lives but the people walking into the seminar don’t have perfect lives either. Pointing to a couple that just walked in, he thinks one is a flat-earther who believes o go to the Bahamas and then drop into oblivion. He gets Kensi to laugh. He wants to go inside. As they get out of the car, Deeks gets an alert. Kensi is going into the seminar, Deeks is going to the office.

Callen and Sam from the boatshed, Rountree and the Admiral in Ops with Fatima review the case. Gary DeMayo, the father of a former Marine took over a bus. They are near MacArthur Park. There are five hostages including a wounded off-duty LAPD officer. DeMayo’s daughter, Kyra, was a Marine until she fell asleep on guard duty in Afghanistan when an incursion happened. Kyra suffered a traumatic brain injury, several other Marines were injured and a cache of weapons were stolen. During an investigation, Kyra was found with a opioids in her system and was given a dishonorable discharge. Callen thinks it was a good thing none of the Marines died. Fatima tells the group that Cpl. DeMayo took the whole incident hard. She took her own life two-weeks ago. Everyone agrees this probably triggered Gary DeMayo.

Callen asks for DeMayo’s demands. DeMayo has two – he wants his daughter’s name cleared and he wants to prove she didn’t kill herself. If the team can’t do that, he’ll kill all the hostages at sundown, which is seven-hours away. Sam asks if there is anything to support DeMayo’s claims. Fatima is reviewing the case, Castor is bringing DeMayo’s wife/Kyra’s mother Rachel to the boat shed. The Admiral says the SECNAV wants the team to assist LAPD on the scene.

Since he has dealt with grieving military families in the past, Sam volunteers to go to the bus. He hopes to get through to DeMayo. Rountree took the FBI hostage negotiation course so he’s joining Sam. Deeks is making his way to the boat shed to help Callen interview DeMayo’s wife. The Admiral wants everyone to tread carefully – there are a lot of people watching and they need to do it right.

LAPD is evacuating every building within 100-yards of the bus when Sam and Rountree arrive. Captain Maya Lopez of the LAPD is happy to have them with the team. LAPD confirmed that DeMayo has a dead man’s trigger but they aren’t sure he has a bomb. There are SWAT officers surrounding the bus and snipers on the rooftop but DeMayo covered the windows with newspaper so LAPD isn’t sure what is really going on inside. Rountree asks if they’ve communicated with DeMayo. A secure walkie-talkie was delivered to the bus with a low-power cellphone jammer. DeMayo can only talk to LAPD but he hasn’t spoken to them yet. That’s worrisome since there is an injured officer inside the bus.

Rountree suggests pulling back SWAT. Hostage-taking is not usually a highly planned event – a show of force works in that case. This is a man who took a bus hostage with a deadman’s switch and possibly explosives. This is someone who knew how LAPD would respond. Pulling the SWAT team back could open the lines of communication. Lopez says “with all due respect” LAPD is running the situation, NCIS is there to consult. Sam would like to consult with DeMayo. Lopez is not on board for that – “our negotiation team is highly qualified.” Sam doesn’t doubt that but Sam could start to talk to DeMayo and then have SWAT retreat if DeMayo responds. Reluctantly, Lopez agrees but warns Sam he’s on a short leash. If there is any sign of trouble, SWAT is going right back in.

On the bus, the injured officer is being tended to by the woman playing the loud music. Everyone else is silent and sitting in the back of the bus. Sam introduces himself over the walkie-talkie as Sam Hanna, NCIS and asks how DeMayo is doing. Claiming everyone is fine, DeMayo asks about his daughter’s case. Sam says they are working on it but Sam needs to know about the injured passenger. When DeMayo tries to explain that the officer tried to take DeMayo’s gun, Sam assures DeMayo that nobody else will try that. Sam thinks his job is to get everyone off the bus safely, including DeMayo. DeMayo says Sam knows what he has to do to get everyone off the bus safely.

Sam has the SWAT team move back as a gesture of good faith and tells DeMayo that. Asking why DeMayo thinks his daughter was murdered, DeMayo tells Sam that Kyra was set up from the start. Kyra didn’t do drugs. Kyra’s discharged barred her from possessing a gun so where could she get one? Sam understands but tells DeMayo that clearing his daughter’s name may take more time. DeMayo has his demands.

In the boatshed, Deeks brings coffee to Rachel DeMayo, who is wearing a nurse’s uniform. She said she could not believe watching the television and seeing her husband holding a bus full of hostages on the news. Callen asks if DeMayo was capable of “something like this?” Her immediate answer is no but it has been a hard time for them – they’re estranged. Kyra’s discharge and death, DeMayo lost his business during the pandemic. Kyra moved back home after her discharge and that was a struggle.

Deeks asks if anything changed about her husband after Kyra died. Rachel said her husband was distant and withdrawn after Kyra’s death. That made sense to her but one day, DeMayo just left. She figured he was with family or friends, working through his grief. Callen asks if DeMayo would carry out his threats. She’d like to say no but she isn’t sure.

In Ops, The Admiral is looking for a sitrep. Fatima spoke with Kyra’s former CO who thought she was a good Marine until the night of the incursion. She had no incidents on a record and here was no history of drug use. Looking into her death, Fatima confirmed that Kyra’s body was found in Austell Park after reports that someone heard a single gunshot. She had a pistol in her hand, a head wound and there are security cameras showing her entering the park. Fatima isn’t sure why she’d do this in the park. The Admiral explains that Kyra was living at home and probably didn’t want her parents to deal with the cleanup around a suicide.

Quickly moving off that topic, the Admiral wants to know about the gun. Fatima doesn’t have much on the gun. Fatima asks what happens if DeMayo is wrong – if the official story about Kyra’s time in Afghanistan and her death are all true. The Admiral prays Sam is a good negotiator.

Deeks asks Mrs. DeMayo if she believes her husband’s claims that Kyra was murdered. She’s like to. Kyra struggled when she returned home. Callen asks if Kyra talked about her time in Afghanistan. Kyra tried to remember what happened but could not. The DeMayos got Kyra to see a therapist. Going into her bag, Rachel pulls out a notebook. The therapist wanted Kyra to write down anything that “came back to her.” Rachel hasn’t been able to read it but wants Callen to if it could help clear Kyra or help her husband.

As Callen looks at the notebook, Deeks asks if Kyra thought the therapy helped. It helped some but the family was paying for the treatment. “We tried so hard. We really did. But we just couldn’t afford the treatment.” With the VA so backed up, the system killed Kyra. “It failed her. And it failed us.”

Callen asks about the last entry in the notebook – a name “Lawrence Kerr” and a question mark. Deeks gives the name to Fatima.

Sam tries to share his losses with DeMayo, who is having none of it from “Agent Hanna”. When Sam says he’s just Sam, DeMayo makes it clear that Sam isn’t his friend and he’s not looking for Sam’s advice, who is just as biased as the military. Sam suggests a non-military investigation. If Sam sent in a reporter to look into Kyra’s case, could they be a one for one switch – a reporter for the injured police officer. In the SWAT truck, Lopez is impressed. Rountree wonders where they’ll get a reporter to go into the bus. There won’t be a reporter, Sam explains, he’s sending Rountree in.

With Fatima providing all the backstopping even though there is no cell service available in the bus, Lopez hands Rountree a reporter’s digital recorder that allows SWAT to listen when he’s on the bus. Sam reminds Rountree that he’s going in as a reporter – “don’t go hard on him.” DeMayo feels nobody is listening. Listen to him. Sam also wants to know if the bomb is viable. Rountree knows what he has to do.

Bringing Rountree as Damien Robinson from the LA Register to the bus, Sam asks for final permission to approach the bus. Sam comes to the bus and with the help of the bus driver, gets the injured officer off the bus. Rountree gets on the bus and is a little nervous when the doors close. DeMayo pats Rountree down, who looks at all the frightened passengers. After the pat down, Rountree starts the interview.

Callen asks if Rachel would be willing to go to the bus. She’s reluctant. Deeks asks if she still loves her husband. “Of course,” she answers. “Well, then I think it’s important that he knows that.” She’s doesn’t know what to say. Callen suggests speaking from her heart. She is willing to give it a try.

Fatima pops up on the plasma. Lawrence Kerr isn’t military but he works for an HVAC company in the Valley. Callen and Deeks are going to interview Kerr, Agent Castor is going to take Mrs. DeMayo to the bus. Deeks tells Rachel she’s got it.

Kensi’s phone goes off twice during the adoption seminar, distracting everyone to the point where the woman leading the group calls for a break. Kensi is still getting calls when the woman running the seminar comes by with some advice. Checking your phone constantly to see if there is a possible child to adopt is not the way to handle things. It is a different path for everyone but these things take time as you do what’s right for her family.

Driving to the HVAC company, Deeks explains that Kensi had her phone turned off during the adoption seminar but any call from Ops would go through. Callen asks Deeks about the adoption. Deeks admits it is tough – he feels like he’s hacking his way through a jungle with no path. As a foster kid, Callen would have killed to have parents like Kensi and Deeks. Deeks appreciates Callen’s support.

Fatima interrupts the rare Callen-Deeks nice moment with news about Lawrence Kerr. Kerr and his company did HVAC work in Afghanistan while Kyra was there. They spoke the night before Kyra died. And now Callen thinks this could be a motive if Kyra was murdered. Which means to Deeks that DeMayo’s claims about his daughter may all be true.

Still thinking Rountree is a reporter, DeMayo shows him a photo of Kyra and talks about her choice to join the Marines. He didn’t see it for her but once she enlisted, she really found herself. Kyra had great things ahead of her, DeMayo says. She was the best of his wife and of him. Sam calls in on the walkie-talkie with Rachel DeMayo. Rachel asks why is DeMayo doing this. He thinks it is the only way anyone will listen. “And I was right,” he says. NCIS reopened Kyra’s case. Rachel thinks DeMayo achieved his goal – let everyone go. DeMayo can’t – “they’re just gonna push us aside” if he doesn’t keep the pressure on. We’re just gonna be another Black family in pain to ignore.” Rachel wants to see her husband.

As DeMayo walks to the door and his wife begs him to get off the bus, Rountree looks at the bomb. DeMayo sees several LAPD officers move into position so he retreats to the back of the bus where he finds Rountree looking at the bomb. Furious, DeMayo demands Rountree explain himself. Saying the bomb was part of the story, Rountree wants to frame the story that all the pain DeMayo and his wife suffered led to the bus and the bomb. “What happens when pleas for help go ignored.” The bomb is real.

Sam calls in with an apology but DeMayo is having none of it. LAPD acted without Sam’s knowledge, Sam promises that won’t happen again. While Sam is talking to DeMayo, Rountree gets lipstick from the woman who was knitting when DeMayo commandeered the bus. Writing “TATP” on the window before DeMayo sees him, Rountree tells LAPD and Sam about the bomb – triacetone triperoxide – “Mother of Satan”. This is what would be used in an airline bomb. Lopez is worried they have less than an hour before sundown.

In the parking lot of the HVAC company, Callen and Deeks see Kerr. Callen is going to confront him with Deeks taking the back. Callen shows Kerr his badge and Kerr runs right into Deeks. Making a sharp turn, Kerr runs away but near a hose. Deeks pulls on the hose and the “yellow bellied Kerr” falls down. Callen is impressed.

Fatima traced the gun found near Kyra to a Lionel Sopko from Crenshaw who sold it under the table to a pawnshop for some under the table cash. The pawnshop admitted buying the gun and sold it the day Kyra died. Their security cameras show the buyer – it was Kyra. Security cameras around the park show nobody entering or exiting around the time the gunshot was fired. Kyra killed herself. The Admiral is crushed – he tells Fatima to update Sam.

Sam updates Lopez on Kyra’s death. Lopez is worried but Sam thinks DeMayo could deal with it if he’s told the truth. Lopez will let Sam make that call but it will be his final decision – they are almost out of time and LAPD will have to go tactical.

Sam approaches the bus with the bad news about Kyra “father to father, man to man.” Gary yells no and stomps around the bus.

Kensi gets another call – she leaves the adoption seminar.

Handcuffed and leaning on the back of Callen’s car, Kerr knows this is about Kyra because he saw DeMayo took over the bus. Deeks arrives with the news from Fatima that Kyra committed suicide. Kerr realizes they suspected him as a killer and makes it clear he could never do that. Deeks asks if Kerr was with Kyra the night of the incursion. Kerr starts to dither but Callen is pushing the deadline. He brings up Kerr being in the journal.

Kerr tells them he was talked into working with his boss. The boss knew the Marines secured a cache of weapons from some local fighters. The plan was to steal the guns back, sell them to the locals. While the other three dressed up as insurgents, Kerr’s assignment was to take care of the guard watching the base that night – it was Kyra. Kerr liked Kyra, they were friends on the base. Kyra was covering for another Marine, she wasn’t even supposed to be on duty that night.

Fearing for his life from the others, Kerr drugged Kyra but she came to just as the others were loading the guns. Kyra was still struggling with the effects of the drugs when she saw the others and started firing. That’s what started everything. Callen asks about the other three men. Kerr only knew his boss, who took off that morning when DeMayo hijacked the bus. Deeks calls Fatima to track down the boss, Callen calls Sam about Kyra being set-up.

DeMayo doesn’t know what to do. He’s heartbroken but carrying the gun. Tossing away his gun, DeMayo orders everyone off the bus. The hostages all leave except Rountree. He asks DeMayo what’s next. DeMayo wants Rountree off the bus. Asking Rountree to make sure everyone is a safe distance from the bus, DeMay says he took his chance and he was wrong. Rountree isn’t leaving with DeMayo but DeMayo makes it clear, he’s still running things. Or he was until laser from a gun in the window. Grabbing DeMayo, Rountree pulls them to the floor just as someone opens fire.

As he runs into the SWAT truck, Sam demands Lopez tell her team to stop firing. It isn’t her team who are shooting. Inside the bus, Rountree and DeMayo are taking serious fire.

Deeks is staying with Kerr as Callen races to the bus. Sam is having a hard time locating where the sniper is positioned. Fatima finds Kerr’s cell phone pinging from a building just a few blocks from the bus. Callen isn’t so sure about this – the boss doesn’t know Kerr flipped.

In the bus, the paper covering the windows is catching fire as the gunshots come in. Little pieces of flaming paper are dropping near the bomb. A bullet hits the bag holding the bomb but it doesn’t blow. The wires that open and close the bus doors and run the communication systems are also hit, causing more fires. Rountree calls into Sam, telling DeMayo he is NCIS and he’s getting DeMayo out.

With two LAPD bullet proof shields, Sam runs to the bus. Rountree takes one shield, Sam has the other as they guide DeMayo to safety. The bus explodes just as they make it to safety.

On the roof of a nearby building, Kerr’s boss takes his sniper rifle and starts to pack up. Callen stops him. When the boss tries to shoot at Callen, Kensi returns fire with her snipe rifle from a nearby building. More shots are exchanged before Callen knocks out Kerr’s boss. “Shooter secured.”

The police move in on DeMayo, who puts his hands up, dropping the useless deadman’s switch on the ground. SWAT takes DeMayo into custody as Rachel watches. She tries to run to her husband. A female officer tries to stop her but she’s not deterred. Before he’s taken away, Rachel hugs him one last time.

Lopez is grateful for to Sam and would be happy to work with him in the future. Rountree tells Sam that Fatima confirmed Kerr’s story. Sam shares this with DeMayo and the news that Kyra was framed. DeMayo is grateful to Sam and Damien. Rountree tells DeMayo his real name and DeMayo is still grateful. Explaining he was desperate and without options, DeMayo apologizes but admits if he had to do it all over again, he would.

In the bullpen, Deeks greets an arriving Kensi. She talks a little about the seminar but realizes adoption isn’t going to solve their problems. They couldn’t go to one seminary without being called away – both of them. What happens with a kid in the picture? Deeks admits he has no idea. He doesn’t have an idea how to do any of this but that’s what having a kid is all about. They are taking their hearts, pulling them out of their bodies and hoping that it isn’t “mauled by a saber-tooth tiger.”

A million things can go wrong but that doesn’t outweigh them becoming a parent. Fear can’t guide what they do. Kensi tells Deeks he’s right, “like always.” They are going to figure this out because that’s what parents do. Kensi needed a pep talk and so did Deeks. They share ‘I love yous” before Kensi brings up being hungry. As they go for dinner, Kensi brings up foster children and Deeks tells her he was thinking the same thing.

For the first time in episode 286, we learn the boatshed has a balcony. Callen and Sam are on it drinking some beer while a beautiful greenscreen, whoops, background of the water is behind them. They talk about Kyra who Callen wonders might still be alive if the truth was revealed sooner. Sam isn’t sure, suicide is an epidemic among struggling veterans, especially women.

The Admiral arrives and he is unaware of the deck as the fans at home. Callen has no single malt but he will share some beer. Saying he could use one, Callen hands the Admiral a beer. The SECNAV is reversing Kyra’s dishonorable discharge. Not only has she been restored to her old position, Kyra was promoted posthumously to sergeant with all related backpay. Her remains will be moved to a veterans’ cemetery and will be reburied with full honors. Also posthumously, Kyra will be award the Navy and Marine Medal, the highest honor given in a non-combat situation for her defense of the base. “It’s the least we could do. She deserved so much more,” Sam sighs.

Callen notes that DeMayo won’t be at any of the ceremonies. Sam can’t stop thinking about DeMayo’s claim he’d do it all again. Callen isn’t – if Sam truly believed the only way he could get justice for Aiden and Sam, would Sam consider it. That’s what Sam keeps thinks about. The Admiral agrees – any parent would do whatever they could for their child. They hope for some healing for the DeMayo family.

What head canon can be formed from here: Lots of parent talk here with the case being about a father and what that means to Sam. Kensi and Deeks are trying to be parents. Callen makes a comment about not having parents. The Admiral talks about parents protecting a child.

I always wish the show would do an update. Gary DeMayo shot a cop, hijacked a bus and caused all sorts of trouble. But his story is awful. Kyra committed suicide but she was really killed the night of robbery/incursion. She found herself in the Marines and the greed of four civilian contractors took that all away from her. DeMayo got justice for his daughter – justice that wasn’t coming any other way.

Fantastic Sam episode. Strong Kensi and Deeks conversations but again Deeks is the one who is all zen about being a parent while Kensi is terrified. A few episodes before, it was the exact opposite and it will be again in a few episodes. A minor nitpick in an episode that is a not only one of the best episodes of season 13, it is one of the best episodes of the last few seasons.

Episode number: Season 13’s sixth episode, episode 286 overall.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la

2 notes · View notes

passable-talent · 4 years

Note

part 4 was so so good!!!!! can you make a part 5? i’m in love with your writing and that series!!! you’re feeding my need for zuko content and i love u for that.

it literally took exactly 19 minutes to get a request for part 5

THANK U THO SHDBCNDGS IM HAPPY YOURE ENJOYING WHAT I DO

been excited to get back to this one, y’all aren’t ready 😏

OKAY I SAID YALL WERENT READY BEFORE I EVEN WROTE IT BUT NOW IVE WRITTEN IT AND LET ME FUCKING REITERATE: YALL ARE NOT F U C K I N G R E A D Y

For chapter five, and my five hundred follower special, we will go back to spring of the year 100 AG, right before Azula’s coup succeeded in their destruction of Ba Sing Se . . .

“So what’s happening?” You asked Mushi as the two of you hurried through the streets of the upper ring.

“Come close,” Mushi answered, and your footsteps brought you beside him.

“My nephew and I are more than refugees,” he began, “my name is Iroh, and I am the brother of the Fire Lord. My nephew, Zuko, is the banished prince of the Fire Nation. I’m sorry we lied to you, but we needed to, in order to stay in Ba Sing Se where we were safe from our family.” Your head reeled, but you kept beside him, because still you trusted this man. You were trained to react and to think, thanks to the Dai Li, so you analyzed his words.

“Were?” you questioned, wondering why he seemed to suggest that he was no longer safe.

“My niece, Princess Azula, has infiltrated the city. She tried to capture me- she did capture Zuko.” Your eyes widened, and your speed increased beside Iroh. “I need your help to retrieve him, and the Avatar’s. That’s where we’re headed.” You looked up at the house you were approaching, half caved in from some sort of destruction. What had happened here?

“The Avatar?” you asked, and Iroh nodded, pausing in front of the door to knock politely. You waited beside him, but held your forehead- you were so shocked about everything you were finding out.

Zuko- not Lee. The banished prince of the Fire Nation. You hadn’t even known that the prince of the Fire Nation had been banished! What else didn’t you know about the other nations of the world beyond the walls of Ba Sing Se?

Why had this information been kept from you? You were training to be in the Dai Li, one of the best and most important police forces of the Earth Kingdom, shouldn’t this information be privy to you? Why wasn’t it?

You were pulled from your thoughts as a girl opened the door, and regarded Iroh with friendliness.

“I need your help,” he began, and you watched the reactions of the other two at the door. They seemed frightened by Iroh- what kind of history had they that you weren’t aware of?

Why were you kept in the dark about everything?

“You guys know each other?” demanded the boy you had to assume was the avatar, who didn’t seem much concerned with your presence. Maybe it was the earth kingdom robes?

“I met him in the woods once, and knocked him down,” answered the girl, and with her gaze that didn’t seem focused on the avatar you wondered if maybe she was blind. She, however, seemed like a strong earthbender. It was one of the things you were trained to pick up on in the Dai Li, and relied entirely on how a person carried herself. “Then he gave me tea and some very good advice.”

“May we come in?” Iroh asked sheepishly, and you wondered why there wasn’t more urgency to his tone.

“Who’s your friend?” the clearly water tribe boy demanded, and you lifted your chin, being acknowledged.

“I’m Y/N, a soon-to-be member of the Dai Li,” you answered, “You can trust me.”

“The Dai Li?” Avatar Aang responded, more shock in his face than before.

“That makes us even less likely to trust you!!” the water tribe boy shouted, and your eyebrows knitted together.

“The Dai Li are the protectors of the city!” you said, though you felt doubt gnaw at your spine- they had kept so much from you, their own cadet.

Iroh turned his eyes to you, and something in his gaze told you to hush up.

“Princess Azula is here, in Ba Sing Se,” Iroh told them, his tone stern and serious.

“She must have Katara!” Aang said, and you looked to Iroh. You didn’t know these people- but that Azula would capture both Zuko and a friend of the avatar meant that she was one of two things: insanely brave or insanely stupid.

“She has captured my nephew, as well,” Iroh said.

“Then we’ll work together to fight Azula, and save Katara and Zuko,” the avatar said, and you felt a little lightness crawl into your heart. You’d be able to help save Zuko, and a friend of the avatar? You were about to go on a crazy adventure.

“Whoa there,” said the water tribe boy, walking back into the conversation, “you lost me at ‘Zuko.’ “

“I know how you must feel about my nephew,” Iroh began, and your expression softened. There was definitely history here, and you’d be interested to learn it. “But believe me when I tell you, there is good inside him.” You brought your eyes to the avatar’s, and nodded, trying to fathom something to say that they’d believe. They didn’t know you, didn’t know what you stood for, and it seemed that you didn’t know much of that yourself.

“I’ve known Zuko for a while,” you said, “and he’s never been anything other than a scared and polite refugee.”

“Good inside him isn’t enough!” The water tribe boy insisted, “Why don’t you come back when it’s outside him too, okay?” Your chest deflated further, and you had to wonder: what had Zuko done, what had Zuko been, that they had this strong of a hatred for him?

Did you want to know?

“Katara’s in trouble,” Aang said to his friend, “All of Ba Sing Se’s in trouble. Working together is our best chance.”

On the way toward the catacombs of the city underneath the palace, you learned Sokka and Toph’s names, as well as the true treachery of the Dai Lee. You learned about the war with the Fire Nation, and had a smile on your face as you took in how lucky you were that the two firebenders whom you had come to love were the only two on the right side of this war.

“Well, whaddaya know, there is an ancient city down there,” Toph said, her hand pressed to the stone courtyard, “but it’s deep.” She opened up a large hole in the stone, heading downward.

“How can you tell?” You asked, and she cracked her knuckles in your direction.

“Right, you’re classically trained,” she mocked with a rude laugh, which made you smile. “I can sense seismic activity through stone. Maybe I’ll teach you, when this is over.” You nodded, intrigued, before Sokka grabbed your attention.

“We should split up. Aang, you go with Iroh and Y/N to look for Katara and the angry jerk,” he said. “No offense,” he added in Iroh’s direction, and once again you found yourself confused on the nature of their shared past when Iroh said “none taken.”

“And I’ll go with Toph to warn the Earth King about Azula’s Coup.”

Aang, Iroh, and you began heading down into the tunnel, Iroh holding up fire for light while you and Aang took turns lengthening the tunnel downwards.

“So, Toph thinks you give pretty good advice,” Aang said, seeming to try to make conversation. “And great tea.” A smile came to your face- Iroh’s tea was the reason that you were, apparently, romantically involved with the prince of the Fire Nation.

Imagine that.

“The key to both is proper aging,” Iroh said, and you laughed under your breath. “What’s on your mind?” Aang paused, and took his turn lengthening the tunnel.

“Well, I met with this guru who was supposed to help me master the avatar state and control this great power.” You turned to look at the avatar as you walked, amazed at both his story and his mere stature. You never thought that you’d get to meet the avatar.

“But to do it, I had to let go of someone I love, and I just couldn’t.” You reached the end of the tunnel, and took stance beside Iroh to take your turn lengthening it. However, Iroh began speaking, and you figured it rude to interrupt him.

“Perfection and power are overrated. I think you are very wise to choose happiness, and love.” With a smile on your face you earthbent and opened up the tunnel further, deciding then and there that you would stick with Iroh. Surely you weren’t to stay and train with the Dai Li, and as it seemed he was teaming up with the avatar, maybe you’d get to help fight in the war!

“But what happens if we can’t save everyone and beat Azula?” You didn’t answer, and let Iroh, both because you didn’t know the answer, and because you felt that the scope of your knowledge and importance wasn’t what it needed to be to even participate in this conversation.

“Without the avatar state, what if I’m not powerful enough?”

“I don’t know the answer,” Iroh said, making you gaze to the side at him. “Sometimes life is like this dark tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving...” Iroh paused as Aang took his turn to break through the stone in front of you, revealing light and a wide open new space, “...you will come to a better place.” You paused, standing on the edge of a cliff, to look out over the ancient city. There was a fountain in front of you, making the air smell fresh even though you were so far below ground. It was amazing, and part of you wished you could have stayed. However, you knew that there was much more pressing matters, and so you quickly moved along with Iroh and Aang into another chamber to hopefully find the prisoners you were looking for.

Aang burst through another wall of stone, and quickly disappeared through the hole as you and Iroh followed.

“Aang!” A girl shouted before embracing him, and you barely put it together that this must be ‘Katara’ before your feet had carried you to Zuko, and hugged him tightly. You yielded this, however, to Iroh, who hugged him with just as much relief as you felt in your heart.

“Uncle, I don’t understand,” Zuko said, a malice you didn’t recognize glinting in his eyes. “What are you doing with the avatar?”

“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang said, and Zuko began to lunge before Iroh caught his chest. You flinched- this wasn’t the boy you knew at all.

“Zuko, it’s time we talked,” Iroh told him, then looking at Aang and Katara. “Go help your other friends. We’ll catch up with you.” Aang and Katara turned away while you stood still, but Iroh turned to you. “You as well. It’ll be alright.” You nodded, and raced down the tunnel after Katara.

“We’ve gotta find Sokka and Toph!” Katara shouted, but you couldn’t answer her before you heard roaring behind you. You didn’t recognize the sound, but when you turned and saw blue fire, nothing could’ve prepared you.

This wasn’t in your training. It wasn’t in your index of attacks to react to. You had no idea what to do- if it wasn’t for Aang and the wall that he raised, you would’ve surely been charred on the spot.

You didn’t recognize the girl that had shot it, but you felt that it was safe to assume it must’ve been Azula.

Katara raced around the wall and picked up water, revealing herself as a powerful water bender before your eyes. The fight between her and Azula created a cloud of steam, and you staggered back even further from Aang’s wall, your chest rising and falling quickly.

You were panicking.

All of that training, everything that your instructors had ever done to harden your will and sharpen your reaction time, it stood nothing against this. This, with the sister of the guy you were crushing on shooting blue fire at the avatar, and you weren’t even sure who’s side you should be on.

That was stupid, of course you knew you should be on the avatar’s side. But something in your head whispered doubts- she was Zuko’s sister. She was the leader of the Dai Li, who you belonged to.

Azula appeared from the steam and shot two fireballs at Aang and Katara, who were forty or so feet in front of you. You just watched, dumbfounded, and realized quickly that she wasn’t aiming at you. She wasn’t targeting you at all.

She landed on a column, which Aang rocked beneath her, and she fell down to stand between Aang and Katara, her back to you. She kept her hands pointed at both of them, but suddenly, her attention turned toward you.

“You’re Y/N, right?” She asked, and your eyes widened. “I remember you. You’re a very impressive cadet, you could be an asset to me. I control the Dai Li, now, and so your allegiance is to me.”

Just for a moment, Katara’s gaze turned to you, wondering if there was any truth to that statement.

Was there?

A fireball impacted the ground between Aang and Azula and you staggered backward, looking up for the source of the flame.

Zuko. Relief filled your chest- at least you knew for sure you were on his side.

As though time was frozen, you watched as he turned his ready stance from aiming at Aang, to aiming at Azula, and your tension melted away. You could fight beside Zuko and the avatar and Katara, and surely between the four of you the princess would be defeated.

Then, from your position fifty feet behind Aang, you saw Zuko’s eyes land on the avatar.

The calmness drifted away, and all you saw was rage.

Fire blasted toward Aang, and he couldn’t avoid the plume, his air bending keeping him from harm but also sending him back beside you. Zuko’s fire kept coming, and you threw up a wall in front of you, turning to the side with your body made into a smaller target out of pure fear.

Zuko had turned on Aang. He’d shot fire at Aang- he’d shot fire at you.

Aang leapt away to continue his battle, which left you behind your wall of stone, paralyzed with fear and indecision and betrayal and anger and sadness.

Didn’t you know Zuko at all? That look in his eye... you had never seen that before. There was pure rage inside him, and you couldn’t understand it, you couldn’t comprehend how this was the boy you’d cared for.

You heard fire roaring throughout the cave, and the whooshing of the wind that Aang sent back. Rocks clattered to the floor and water shot around the cavern, and it was all too much, the sounds of martial arts and groaning and impacts, you couldn’t get a clear thought through your mind.

“I thought you had changed!” Katara’s yell echoed off the rocks, and just for a moment your hands lifted from your temple. Was she talking to Zuko?

“I have changed,” he answered, and it was in the silence that followed that you made up your mind, finally.

Zuko was on the wrong side of this war. Not as you’d thought.

You heard a yelp from Katara and brought up a hunk of earth underneath you, launching you across the cave and into a defensive position in front of her with a battle cry. Both Azula and Zuko seemed surprised by this decision, but before any of you could react, the rumbling of Aang’s reemergence interrupted the fight. They turned their attention to him, which gave you the moment to send a hunk of stone into both of their abdomens, knocking them backward. However, your eyes turned up with the sound of Dai Li stone chains, and you couldn’t pull your limbs in tight enough to avoid their sudden grip on you.

“No,” you snarled as Katara woke, and brought a ring of water around the both of you. You stood back to back with her, small finger movements slowly dissembling the stone chains around your wrists so you could help her in the fight.

But there were too many agents- you knew you couldn’t take them all on. Not even with a master waterbender at your back.

A gust of wind surprised you, and you broke free in time to see Aang rise from shattered crystal inside a beam of light. It was amazing- and you were stunned into awe.

Lightning struck the avatar.

Katara nearly drowned you in the wave she created, but you pulled up a slab of stone just in time to surf on it behind her, just like you had on summer days in Lake Laogai. Mowing down Dai Li agents, and the royal siblings, the two of you raced toward the falling avatar, before he was caught by Katara. Soaked, exhausted, and tears blurring your vision, you stood between her and the siblings, who walked toward her, as though they were predators, and she an easy meal.

Though you knew you should be watching them both, your eyes were on Zuko. Maybe, there was some of Lee left in him, and seeing you would bring it back. But his eyes were firmly on the dead-or-dying avatar, hungry, predatory, and your heart shattered.

Fire cut off their path and you looked up to see Iroh, who leapt down in front of even you.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” He shouted, looking back at you. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can!” Katara stood and you joined her on Aang’s other side, carrying the avatar toward a waterfall, the sound of fire roaring behind you.

It was terrifying.

“Hold onto him!” Katara shouted, her grip tight on the avatar as she used her other hand to bend an upward spiral around the three of you.

You watched Iroh face Zuko until the rock covered your vision, and you closed your eyes.

Back on Appa, you kneeled behind Sokka, one eye keeping a watch on Katara as she attempted to heal Aang. But mostly, you gripped Appa’s fur, and cried.

The Dai Li had lied to you. Zuko and Iroh had lied to you. The Dia Li turned on you. Zuko turned on you. Zuko turned on Iroh, Azula killed the avatar. Everything was so messed up, beyond proportion, skewed beyond belief. The boy you thought you might’ve loved...

He’d never existed in the first place.

And though the avatar lived, you laid your forehead to the bison’s back, and sobbed.

tag list for this series- @furblrwurblr @eridanuswave

oh yeah request for pt 6 /// already been requested y’all are fine

edit: | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |

-🦌 Roe

1K notes · View notes