#none of this is revolutionary and I've even said it before in my own words

[interdimensionaltales]

Drifting back to you

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x reader

Word Count: 981

Warnings: besides not having been beta, for now, none. (this will probably change in the future)

Summary: What if you were on a quest to figure out why you're so different from your kind and ended up stranded at sea with Sauron himself disguised as a mortal Southlander? What is it that sets you apart? Can you find the answers and accept yourself? Why is Sauron, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, pretending to be a commoner? Trying to forget? Binding his time? Pretending nothing happened? On top of that, there's a force that brings you two together and keeps you both drifting back to each other again and again no matter how much he, or you both, try to deny it. And the power that he feels coming from you may be it or it may be love. That's what you both need to figure out.

PS: This probably has been done before, the idea is not revolutionary. I read a lot of fic, but my ship is Haladriel and other fandoms so I've never read anything like this and I'm a little bitch for someone powerful meeting their equal and questioning everything so... Here we are.

This is the first time I'm trying to write my own, please be kind, but feedback and advice are welcomed. English is not my first language. This fic is intended to be multichaptered, but I figured I'd post what I came up with first to see if I could get a boost or the very least some feedback that would help me to get to a full fic. Anyway, let me know if you guys think it has potential! Thanks for reading!

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There wasn't much that could bring you comfort in a strange land, with strange people and their customs. After what you have been through, one would think that any comfort would do. Being stranded at sea has a way of making people seek out the best that life has to offer once back on land, but for you, there wasn't much to find beside the company of the one you were stranded with. Halbrand. The tall brunette, with his calm stance and inquisitive eyes that came to be so familiar now. No matter what wonders you would find on this so-called island of Númenor, you always ended up drifting back to him. So there you were again at his shores.

''It's been a fortnight now, Halbrand,'' you said, pulling out a stool at one of the bar's table, sitting in defeat.'' A fortnight, they said we would be given a chance to get into a guild. What are they waiting for? What's taking so long? What are we supposed to do meanwhile?''

''Enjoy our stay.'' he replied, amusement plastered on his face when he saw the look on yours.

''I have, and now I'm ready to do something more meaningful. '' You sighed. You were so tired of this aimless days filled with ale and idle time. You couldn't wait anymore, you needed answers, you needed to understand what was happening to you and the only way to do that was to get into that tower, the library. ''There has to be a way to speed things up.'' you said and rested your face on your hands.

He looked at you with those lazy eyes, a soft gaze but ever inquisitive. Why were you so set on getting a job? It couldn't be just boredom, otherwise, you would have taken on any other jobs available. It has to be the tower, but what do you want to find there? You were rubbing your face in frustration but that didn't tell him any more than he already knew so he drank the rest of the content in his cup and spoke again.

''There are many ways,'' he said standing up, ''You just need to know how far are you willing to go.''

He gestured to you ''Let's go for a walk.''

Halbrand knew. He knew that whatever it was that he was feeling didn't have space in his life or in him right now. It never had, it couldn't have. He was given a second chance at peace if you could call it given. He should have just left, he should have started putting some distance between you two a while ago, nothing good comes from wanting more than you can have, even worse, deserve it. But there he was, walking around with you, listening to you, being captivated by you, and far worse, wanting to help you get what you want. So he stayed, just a while longer, he did indeed tell you to enjoy things a bit more, he was just following his own advice and basking in your presence while he could ignore that gnawing feeling in him. The one that kept telling him how starved he was of something only you could give him.

''Where are we going?'' You asked taking him out of his reverie. He looked at you and licked his lips, a reminiscence of those unwanted feelings still lingering in his mind and the thought of where you both could go flooded him making it harder to shove those feelings down.

''We are going to speed things up'' He said making his way into the busy streets. ''More often than not, life is nothing but a trade, ''he continued. ''If you want something you need to know what to give in return.''

''Halbrand,'' you called struggling to keep up, ''We can't buy our crest, there's nothing we can give in re-- Sorry.'' you said bumping into a stranger, which made you fall behind a bit so you rushed to catch up with him. ''Even if we could,'' you continued zigzagging your way into the crowd so you were just a couple steps behind him, ''We don't have any-'' when he turned around and you ran into him, your face right into his chest. ''-money.'' He held you in place by your arms, balancing you. People going around you both in the crowd. You were never this close to him before. Sure, on the raft, you had to sleep side by side for the lack of space, but nothing like this. You were so close you could taste the salt on his skin, he smelled of smoke, leather, and iron. You were just about to evaporate into smoke too if it wasn't for the feeling of those callous hands on your skin, condensing you into form. Taking a sharp breath, you looked at him. He was looking down, his gaze fixed on your face. A battle raging in his hazy eyes

The way you were pressed against him made him never want to let you go, he had barely managed to shove those feelings down, and with one touch of you, he was lost in it again. What was this? All he could think about was how he wanted to keep touching you. The softness of your skin was a foreign concept to him, nothing in his later life has ever felt like this. It made him think of before, of the beginning. Enough! This is madness. There's no going back and no way this could work. It took all the strength in him to let go of you. It's a waste of time, he thought, there's no way I deserve this. ''Let's go'' he said, but took your hand nonetheless, guiding you through the crowd.

[messrsrobyn]

i just saw a tiktok saying the marauders would call the fanon characters slurs bC theY weRE FroM the 70s aND they WoulD NEvEr wear SkiRTs or liSTeN to pOP mUSiC and like first of all sirius black himself told me he's a disco fan, but also... not even going into the "those are just headcanons" territory bc those people love to bring canon, there's a) no evidence of homophobia in the wizarding world, b) there's actually a lot of text evidence that supports the idea of the wizarding world being better at gender equality (which is wild bc jkr is a terf bud i digress...!) and they were teens who were fighting against a fascist system. like, not to go all politics here, but guys, people in the 70s were gay and were fighting fascism and were wearing skirts. all around the globe. it's not a wild jump to think they'd at least be ok with the fact that gay people are real lol (not to say a lot of leftists aren't homophobic, but like, again, this is fiction...they are canonically the light side, they are canonically against bigotry [wild, again, bc jkr] so you come into my house and you tell me they'd hate crime me in real life?) and what amazes me the most is that it's usually the same person that hates jegulus bc "james would never date a fascist" but like, choose your fighter, he's either a man of high morals and fighting for what is right or he's a queerphobe. you can't have both things and use the "fascism" argument in my house!!! actually, people in this fandom should actually just stop using the word fascist, tbh. they think their biggest revolutionary act is to... be mean to people online regarding ships? anyways robyn you're amazing and your patience is certainly better than mine will ever be!!!

I SAW THIS TIKTOK !!!!!

"they'd bully you and me if they were real" well they arent 😭

idk. the creator then said in the comments that people are entitled to their own hcs and it's like,,, then why make a post shitting on them??? just read what you wanna read???

and also yes !! queer people have *always* existed, the 70s were revolutionary for queer rights. i think it was '73 when they removed homosexuality from the APA list of psych disorders, the wholeeee punk scene?! (which always trips me up when people also say "sirius wouldn't have worn skirts/eyeliner! he was punk! like,,, do you know what punk is???)

idc what people hc at all but i hateee when canon/period-typical attitudes are brought into discourses.

"they wouldn't have all been allies or gay, the 70s were very homophobic" sorry that i don't want to read fics about homophobia i guess? sorry that i don't fancy reading about my oppression in fun lil stories??? i get enough of that irl i don't want it in my books. even then, if it is included? i fw it, but why would i want the MAIN CHARACTERS of FICTION that i'm engaging with FOR FUN to be against me????

ALSO !!! agreed. i've said it before and i'll say it over and over again, i HATE the morality based arguments because none of them are real !! i promise that me reading a fic about regulus doesn't mean im a fascist, it means i'm reading a silly little story. or reading mlm instead of wlw doesn't make me misogynistic BECAUSE THEY ARENT. REAL.

especiallyyyy with ships. no. jegulus isn't misogynistic. i don't read jegulus bc i hate women i read it bc it's fun??? bc i want to???

the people making these kinda posts just want to be the best marauders fan and they want to have the best takes and they want everyone to bow down in the comments and say "YES!!! YOU'RE OUR VOICE OF REASON!!! YOU'RE SO SMART AND RIGHT!!!" when really i just want them to shut upppp and let people enjoy what they enjoy.

fandom is so much more fun if you spend your time engaging in things you like instead of hating on the things you dislike (shocking, i know)

[daffodilhorizon]

i've always been outspoken about equal rights. It started with posts about mental illness stigma. Since being traumatized as a child, i've struggled with depression and anxiety. I opened up about this, in hopes others would feel inspired to share their stories. There's every reason why suffering from mental illness should not happen alone. Then i started talking about gay rights and biphobia and feminism and #metoo and the patriarchy. I tirelessly educated on rape culture and mansplaining. I went hard on telling people to vote (haha) for the most liberal option available. I told people about the wealth gap and classism. I educated myself and read both anarchist and communist theory, and then i started criticizing colonialism and exploitation itself. I advocated for unions, i told people to never cross a picket line and to support strikes. I was already ACAB before Ferguson, but after that i spent years reading antiracist theory and seeking out black revolutionaries. I had to tell an extended family member "all lives don't matter until black lives do". I did not shy from my work in attempting to gently radicalize the people in my life. I attempted to educate others on why we need prison and cop abolition and the alternatives. I got pretty far, even with people i don't consider leftists! Like anyone else, i of course, advocated for environmentalism. I myself do not own a car and go to great lengths to use fully renewable energy. I re-use before recycling. I avoid plastic when i can. In my veganism self-education, i learned about disability rights. This was enforced further during covid. I stopped using ableist language or comparisons. I have successfully eradicated using comparisons to intelligence in my daily life and gently correct people around me when they use them to use a better word. None of this lost me any friends. Until i brought up animal rights. Even the tamest "i'm vegan" had acquaintances putting distance between us. My entire family turned on me, simply for saying stuff like "you are a good person, you just don't see the difference between your cat and a pig because of defense mechanisms, but you would be upset if your cat went through what animals at those places do." or saying killing a turkey is wrong. Then i started losing friends and being ostracized. From people who said nothing even when i pointed out war crimes against Palestine and are full anti-capitalists. People who are open minded, and generally kind to others. People's environmentalism evaporated when i pointed out that methane from cows is x28 as heating as CO2 in the short term, that we can't stay under 2c without people being plant based, or that the majority of plastic in the ocean is from fishing nets, or that fishing is killing way more sea turtles and other "cute" animals than straws. Even just mentioning animal victims a few times every now and then is enough to make people uncomfortable. Definitely not a sign of their own guilt or anything! How painful must the reminder be, to have to completely block out not only the victims at every meal, but humans who remind them of the suffering they are inflicting as well. So it's very jarring to me now, to see other people advocating for other causes saying much more extreme things and not getting any negative social feedback. Straight up mainposting things like "you are a bad person for voting wrong" is becoming more normal with the election season coming up. But vegans get shut down simply for bringing up animal abuse, because carnists know deep down it's wrong to hurt animals and objectify them into commodities. That's why they care so much about animals they view as "cute" "pets" or value (at least on the surface) animals they admire for being free and wild such as Elephants, pretty birds, and whales.

[aotopmha]

Now at episode 26 of Revolutionary Girl Utena.

I'm starting to see it all come together.

In the most simple terms, I think the series is about the impossibility/possibility of seeing beyond your own conditioning and personal experiences and the conditioning the world you live in might impose on you.

It's about growing to understand you can choose how you act and how you aren't unconditionally tied to your personal experiences or the standards the world might push on you when choosing how you act/live, no matter what kind of lessons life teaches you.

You can choose to do harm or do good.

Anthy can't see she has a choice to not be the Rose Bride. And neither can any of the duelists. And in turn Akio is the one taking any possibility they might understand they have agency away from them in the first place via manipulation.

So how do you grow to understand you have a choice?

Seeing outside perspectives, of course. And Utena is the outside perspective here, even if she, too, is shaped by her memory/experiences.

If you are suffering what can you do to get better?

Do you hurt others to feel better about yourself or find the root of the issue and eliminate it?

The idealistic image of a prince Utena holds in the highest of regard because that prince gave her purpose when she had none.

Mikage's love for Tokiko and the idealised image he grew to have of her because she was the first person he truly grew to care about.

Jealousy, the need to be special, the need to feel powerful, the need for closure, the need for eternal safety, happiness and comfort, the desire to never be hurt.

All of these are very human reactions and Akio uses the humanity of absolutely everyone to get what he wants (including the preliminary antagonists to him, Touga and Mikage).

Akio manipulates everyone to perfection using the worst and best in them to get what he wants, which is eternal life – eternal happiness for only himself because of also probably personal trauma, I assume.

He's a horrendous human being, but I absolutely bet he is just as driven by memory and personal experience as everyone else.

There's still 13 episodes left, so much is yet unclear, but seeing the mysteries and character arcs starting to come together at this point is so far the strongest part of the story to me.

I find wording my thoughts on this story difficult on the micro level – there is so much nuance to all of the characters that I find deep diving fairly tough, but I'm the most grateful for the basics being fantastic and pretty straight-forward.

When I first went into this story, I feared the abstraction might get in the way of the emotional core, but I'm glad it is slowly being peeled away in favour of the feelings behind it.

The story is about so much more than just the idea of asking and exploring the agency of humanity, but I'm glad I can summarise it as such because I think that's the biggest pitfall a story so based in mystery and abstraction can end up having.

It works as an abstract piece of art just as much as it does a pretty straight-forward one.

You just need to keep with it – I now see specifically this detail as the struggle point where the story ends up alienating the broader audience – not just the abstraction/presentation of the story itself, but also the slower burn nature of it coming together as a narrative.

But as I've said before, as someone who loves this kind of storytelling as much as any other, I'm living.

I thought it was great at episode 12 and I think it's still great at episode 26.

And I very much look forward to the rest of it.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Road Less Traveled" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 3/12: Sparks Fly Between Pages Pairing: Beauty and the Puppet (Belle/August) [with hints of CaptainSwan] Rating: General Word Count: (557/8K) Summary: [Mid Season 4 Canon Divergence.] After becoming a man again to help the heroes track down the author, August stops by the library- only to realize he now has a crush on the librarian, who's working through some complicated feelings of her own. Chapter Summary: August and Belle share a moment together at the library Tags: season 4, canon divergent, fluff, beauty and the puppet, captain swan, anti-rumbelle, Author's notes: none Taglist: @zahara  @kmomof4  @jonesfandomfanatic  @booksteaandtoomuchtv  @jrob64  @tiganasummertree  @anmylica  @teamhook  @undercaffinatednightmare  @gingerchangeling  @lonelyspectator  @caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @kanerallels @accidental-spice @poptart-cat-78 [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on AO3!

 August's experiment in going to the library to focus had proven futile that day, and so it had the next day, and the day after that- so he took the logical recourse today of doing the exact same exact thing again and going to the library to focus.

 He wasn't going to lie to himself though- he wasn't intending to focus on his writing- he wanted the opportunity to see Belle again. He'd known her a little as a kid, but he wanted to get to know her a little better as a man. She seemed well read in both realms, the kind of woman he could sit with to talk about books for hours and still have more to say to, and to listen to. So, as soon as he'd finished a little woodworking with his dad, August hopped back on his motorcycle and was off to the library.

 He took a breath as he walked through the door and reminded himself that she was just pretty, but nothing special, nothing to be scared of.

 But then he entered the library and saw her pouring over stacks of papers and manuscripts, searching every one of them for some kind of clue to the crisis they were trying to solve, lost for a moment in the world within the words- taken aback by the beauty in seeing her in her element.

 "Good afternoon, miss Belle." August said.

 She started when she heard him, having not noticed his entry.

 "Oh, hi, August." She ran her fingers across her forehead and hair, apparently frazzled.

 "Didn't mean to scare you."

 "You didn't scare me." Belle said, holding a stack of papers. "I'm just trying to make sense of all this."

 "I'll leave you to it. I've got some work of my own to do."

 "What have you been working on these past few days?" Belle asked.

 "A novel." He was surprised at her curiosity, but also tried not to reveal too much, to see if she'd ask for more.

 "I'd gathered that much." Belle rolled her eyes.

 He smiled at her slight frustration and decided to follow his teasing with a teaser. "A crossover historical fiction of both realms. As if the characters of our realm grew up in this world's history books."

 "Ooh." Belle leaned on a tall stack of books and papers. "Mystery or action?"

 "Mystery." August leaned toward her a little too. "With a little romance sprinkled in to spice it up."

 Belle smiled. "It sounds intriguing."

 "That's my angle." August said.

 He smiled at her a moment longer, but she shook her head and moved away from him. He nodded a goodbye and headed back down to his usual study space.

 When he'd started this story before becoming a kid again, he hadn't even considered a Beauty and the Beast inspired character. Now he stared at the manuscript in front of him, and the side character pushing her way to the forefront of the story, a revolutionary spy whose enemies were taken by her beauty- but she could pick out the beasts among them from a mile away- a character cleverly codenamed "Liberty Belle."

 He leaned back on the chair as he did a few times a day and saw Belle lost again in her little world, pouring over her runes- until the library door opened.

[ganymedesclock]

your posts kind of give me the vibe of someone who would, if Lord of the Rings is something in your wheelhouse, have a lot to say about that one scene where the prose mourns the death of a soldier and muses how he was no less devoted to his cause, and what lies might have sent him to die far from home, and the horrors of war and the evils of the need to control?? (I say this because that's a BIG vibe for me and it struck me as something of interest for you?)

You know I have never properly read LOTR, although I think I perhaps ought to at some point because it seems like as a classic/codifying story in a genre I'm very fond of it would be if nothing else good for me, like health food.

That particular scene, I have heard about secondhand, and I think that is a big thing I try to do with a lot of my writing- I always try to think about how a character got where they are. And the truth is, while not every person who chooses destructive behavior has a convenient, sad story that you can unspool softly in your hands (and far more often we will never be given the satisfaction of knowing definitively why someone hurt us), in many situations- war among them- there are few good answers for why an individual person stands as The Enemy.

I think that if there's one thing a lot of fantasy, especially fantasy partially inspired by or codified through video games and tabletop- which are both, to be clear, things I care deeply about- is the usage of The Enemy as a form of power fantasy. I call this often the Goblin Problem, because it's one thing that Goblins get conceptually used for a lot.

Basically, you want your heroes to fight enemies. Enemies that are armed, and can set traps. Basically, enemies that are unambiguously sapient- but the catch is you don't want your heroes to be seen as killing another person, even in self-defense. Cue the goblin- somehow able to do things that require sapience, but conveniently never person enough to require dignity or grieving. And many people besides me have raged against that for a long time, and many other people defend it.

The matter, as I understand it, is that adversaries, monsters, encounters, whatever you want to call them- feel good. We like to feel accomplished. We like to fight things. I'll admit it, I can turn on Dead Cells and turn my brain off a little and smash through a whole buncha zombies and it makes the brain chemicals go brrrr just as much as it does for anyone else. Replacing every single one of those instances as it lies with a ruminative experience about the futility of war and the dignity of others doesn't always work. It doesn't! I'll admit that.

But I think it's absolutely, genuinely important to think about the critical relationships you have with others. In Dead Cells, it feels very fun to play as Prisoner. But the game is littered with strategic buzzkills where you're reminded that the reason why you're guiltlessly mulching through all of these guys is they're former people infected beyond salvation and the nature of the situation, aside from giving you a free license to be extremely violent, is sisyphean- you really cannot affect these people in any way that matters, you cannot make the situation better, you can't even really escape the time loop your character is living in. Prisoner isn't triumphantly conquering zombies because he's a Cool Dude- he's, well, a desperate prisoner lashing out.

I think that it's not inherently evil to put enemy characters to block your heroes way- but, as a neurodivergent person who has always been told it's my job to seem approachable or understandable to others, I guess I've always felt a little uneasy that in fiction, most of the times, if there's a good guy goblin the burden is on them to prove their humanity to the Real Folks- and if they don't, well, they deserve being used for XP grinding right.

[eustasshoney]

Ace | Sabo | Law: How they behave when they're horny ✨

I've got brainrot so now it's everybody else's problem you're welcome.

CW: Sex mentions/sexual themes ofc.

-*-

| Ace |

Ace's love language is physical touch. He cannot get enough of putting his hands on his partner, whether it be linking pinkies when walking with them, or just lying in the absolute tangle of body parts when taking a nap, he just loves to touch. So, obviously, he's just gonna get even more handsy when he's horny.

He'll be constantly hovering around you, grabbing at your waist and tucking his head into your shoulder from behind if you're busy. Leaving little kisses everywhere he knows you're sensitive (if accessible in a none private setting.) Will plant a flurry of those quick pecks on your lips which is ultimately gonna lead to deeper kisses and him steering you somewhere where things can progress.

He also gets quite quiet in the moments leading up to foreplay and the sex itself. He always finds his voice again during, but when he's trying to coax you into the mood as well, he let's his body do the talking, or speaks in low and hushed tones if he has to.

He will stare a lot when he's horny, whether he realises it or not, if he can't put his hands on you, he's eating you alive with his eyes.

He also has an extremely vivid and active imagination, and has thought himself into being painfully aroused on multiple occasions. Seriously, if he's not preoccupied and the kiss you gave him before he had to attend to duties that day comes into mind, I'd give it fifteen minutes before he's thought of several different ways the kiss could have gone had he not had to leave, and he's ready to go.

In my mind, I have this little scenario of him standing behind his partner after being given no relief all day, hands on their hips, chest against their back, planting needy little kisses up the side of their neck before mumbling, "please, baby?" In their ear.

😩

| Sabo |

Sabo absolutely loves the chase when he's horny. The longer the build up, the better the payoff in his mind and absolutely adores it if there's mutual teasing going on when nothing can be done about it.

He's definitely the type to go about his day, doing his duties as the Chief of Staff, never intentionally seeking you out, but should your paths cross he'll mutter a bombshell while walking by like,

"I can't wait until I have you to myself."

"You've done good today. I'll reward you for that later."

"You seem a little distracted, love, I hope it's not reflected in your work. I'd hate to have to punish you."

The list goes on.

Basically, if Sabo is horny, then you will be too and he's going to make you both suffer with it.

Unlike Ace, intimacy is a private thing to him, so he's not gonna make a display of being clingy and in your personal space. Nor is he gonna let on to anyone else that there's anything going on, however, if the chance of being caught is low-risk, he'll absolutely try and get a reaction out of you with people around.

Likes making you flustered, making you fumble your words and then watching as you scramble for the pieces of your scattered mind before anyone notices it wasn't just a brain-fart moment.

You probably end up with a reputation for being one of those people who talk too fast for their mouth and stutter a lot amongst the rest of the Revolutionaries, even though unbeknownst to them, it's almost always Sabo being a dick. No one has caught on yet.

| Law |

Okay. Of all three of these men, Law is the hardest to gauge when he's in the mood, because he's the master of the poker face and a God at acting like he has no feelings or urges whatsoever.

That being said, I feel like he's also actually a mix of both Ace and Sabo but... more subtle.

For instance, he won't go clinging to your person every chance he gets, but he will rest a hand on your lower back as he walks by, maybe leave a kiss on the top of your head.

He might, if he's really, really feeling it shoot some innuendos your way like Sabo will, but he's more likely praise you more than anything if he's in the mood. Little complements like,

"You've done all of this already? You're amazing, sweetheart."

"You're so good for me."

"Have I ever told you how gorgeous you look wearing my jolly-roger?"

Unrelated but Law would go absolutely nuts if you also got a tattoo of his roger, or wore the clothes he has with it on. He lowkey loves feeling like he owns you.

He generally likes working on his own without distraction, so a good indicator that he's wanting your attention is if he invites your company while he's doing paperwork, or even seeks you out and asks if he can join you while he does whatever he needs to do.

Will do things like work with a hand on your thigh, or with you in his lap.

If he gets the feeling you're on the same page, then he'll be more forward about his desires and take it from there, but as I said, as someone whose pretty discrete with his emotions, expect subtlety until he catches you're on the same vibe.

[stufftippywrote]

infinities within infinities

"Don't get me wrong," Xie Lian says, "I'm really grateful for the donation, but I don't think it's right to name the library after me."

But the man in the three-piece suit seems insistent. "You're a groundbreaking force in the world of philosophy," he says ardently. "I've read your Man, Thrice Ascended at least ten times. What you have to say about the concept of self as the infinite is revolutionary." He grins. The leather of the eyepatch over his right eye gleams in the sunlight. "The least you deserve is to have libraries named after you."

Xie Lian looks him over. This Hua Cheng is known as a reclusive billionaire, but there’s nothing withdrawn about him now, as he surveys Xie Lian with a bright eye. Instead, he’s almost preternaturally relaxed, hands in his pockets, smiling as bright as if he’d captured the sun. Despite the money and the insistent words, there’s nothing intimidating about him.. Xie Lian rather likes him.

“Well, thank you, I suppose, Mr. Hua,” he says carefully. He still isn’t sure about the Xie Philosophy Library concept. He looks up at the building and tries to imagine his name on the placard; it just seems preposterous. The dreams of a very young graduate student who thought he could change the whole nature of philosophy. Now, a fool’s wish. That it would be granted so suddenly, and by the young man in front of him who can’t be out of his twenties? Unimaginable.

“No need to thank me,” Hua Cheng says, shaking his head. “The very least I could do. Do you need a ride anywhere, Professor?”

**

Hua Cheng’s car might as well be a spaceship for how much it sticks out among the dumpy minivans and compact cars that surround it in the parking lot. Black, sleek, and gleaming, it truly seems to have beamed here from some point in a glittering future. Hua Cheng unlocks it with the touch of a button, and then, with another, the passenger side door swings open of its own volition. Xie Lian peeks inside. The interior is black as well, but for some touches that stand out in burning crimson.

“Go on, Professor.” Hua Cheng is leaning on his side of the car, casting a sideways glance at him. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Xie Lian obeys, ducking his head to get in. “You really needn’t call me Professor,” he says as Hua Cheng joins him on the driver’s side.

“What should I call you, then?” Hua Cheng’s smile is devastatingly brilliant, and Xie Lian is glad he’s sitting, because his knees have just gone to jelly. “I could call you gege, if it’s not too informal.”

He’s teasing -- at least, Xie Lian thinks he’s teasing -- but honestly the word comes out of his mouth more naturally than professor, and Xie Lian likes the sound of it better. “Gege is fine,” he says lightly.

“But in return,” Hua Cheng says, starting up the car, “you have to call me San Lang.”

“Why?” There’s something buzzing in Xie Lian’s brain now about the concept of naming, what we call ourselves versus what others call us, but he shunts it aside.

“Why do you think?” The car pulls out of its space, and a low rumble echoes in Xie Lian’s gut as it starts to navigate the parking lot. Hua Cheng is glancing at him between peeks in the rearview mirror. “You know what they say about us billionaires, we’re eccentric. Humor me.”

“Very well, San Lang,” Xie Lian replies, and he likes the sound of that, too.

It’s ten minutes of buzzing around the downtown streets before Xie Lian realizes he never gave a destination. “San Lang,” he says carefully, “where are we going?”

“Here and there,” Hua Cheng says. “I want to pick your brain about Man, Thrice Ascended.”

“Oh.” Xie Lian is flattered, and honestly the concept of riding around aimlessly in this sleek machine appeals to him. “Go right ahead, then.”

“To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng says, “I have trouble wrapping my head around the concept of the self as infinite. Unless you believe in a higher power, the concept of self seems painfully finite to me, as it only exists between birth and death. Isn’t that a pretty limited span?”

“Only temporally,” Xie Lian replies. “Did you know that there are 22 million seconds in the average lifetime?”

“22 million is a lot, but it’s not infinity,” Hua Cheng counters.

“Ah, but a second isn’t instantaneous. Seconds take time. If you’ve ever tried to hold a plank for more than a minute, you know that well.” And he really does look like the type who could hold it. If not for two. “The unit of time I’d rather use is the moment.”

Hua Cheng glances at him. The car pulls onto the highway. “The moment?” he asks, gently spurring Xie Lian forward.

“Exactly,” Xie Lian says. “The moment is instantaneous. Maybe there are hundreds of millions of moments in the span of a single second of time. Maybe more than that. We can conceptualize, then, that each second of a lifetime contains within it infinite moments, and each lifetime 22 million infinities.”

“But a moment is hardly an appreciable measure of time,” Hua Cheng says. “How many moments can we experience as moments with our limited consciousness? The moments experienced are still finite to the mind of the human who tries to count them. Even if you count as fast as you can, you can’t count to 100 within the space of a single second, much less infinity.”

“You’re asking good questions,” Xie Lian comments.

Hua Cheng glows a little. “I told you, I’ve read the book a thousand times.”

“Well, if you did read the book, then you know that our concept of moments here is merely a framework.” They’re driving along the coast now, the bay blue and the sun starting its daily fizzle from yellow to red. “The infinities that truly populate the self are not of time, but of possibility.”

“Infinite choice in each moment.” Hua Cheng nods. “Explain it to me one more time, please, won’t you, gege?”

There’s a little plaintive moan in his voice - just a sliver of an entreaty - and it gives Xie Lian the goosebumps. Here is someone who’s truly appreciating his work, and he’s pleasant to look at and his voice is pleasant to the ear, and Xie Lian is reeling with how much good sensation is rolling into him with every second of this drive. It’s like the best of good dreams, and he doesn’t want to think of it ending.

“In any moment -- and I do mean moment, with our earlier definition,” he says, “I could lean to the left. I could lean to the right. I could blink. I could lean to the left but just a little bit harder. I could think of the color red. I could think of the color blue. I could speak. I could stay silent. I could open the door and throw myself out of this car, if I wanted.”

“Please don’t,” Hua Cheng interjects, sounding a little unnerved.

“It’s just a possibility,” Xie Lian reminds him. “There are, essentially, an infinite number of things I could do with each moment of my life. Each of them takes some time, but the process of choosing is instantaneous. So you have infinite possibilities in every single moment of infinite moments.”

“Not infinite possibilities," counters Hua Cheng. "What you decide to do in one moment, as you said, takes time. The time it takes to perform that action necessarily negates the infinite nature of the next moment. You can’t make certain decisions while performing other actions.”

“Your possibilities are still infinite in each moment,” Xie Lian argues. “Just because some actions can’t be taken doesn’t mean there aren’t still infinite possibilities open to you. Think of numbers. An infinite number of numbers end in the digit 4. It’s still an infinite set, even though numbers that end in the digit 5 aren’t included.”

Hua Cheng frowns. “Perhaps my limited mind isn’t fully able to capture it,” he says after a time. “You’re very impressive, gege.”

Heat blooms in Xie Lian’s cheeks. “Thus,” he says, “we have the three ascensions. When the mind is able to grasp the concept of infinity within limited time, it ascends once. The second ascension comes when one accepts that infinite actions can be performed within that limited time. And the third ascension…”

“...is when the mind grasps that the possibilities are infinite for each of an infinite number of moments,” Hua Cheng fills in. “Infinities within infinities, all within the self.”

They’ve pulled off to a scenic outlook point on the bay. Hua Cheng eases the car into one of three parking spots and turns off the engine. He turns to Xie Lian. “Gege always explains it so well,” he says brightly. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Xie Lian can feel the flush creeping into his cheeks. He looks away. “You’re welcome.”

Another beep, and the car’s doors are opening again. Hua Cheng gets up, rounds the car to Xie Lian’s side, and holds out his hand.

They stand for a time side by side, watching the reddening sun dip its toes into the rippling water of the bay. There’s a strange peace to standing here, Xie Lian thinks, with this person he barely knows but is so ardent about his work. I’m safe. I’m appreciated. The sureness of that is unexpected but so, so welcome. Xie Lian thinks back, trying to remember the last time he felt that way. He can’t recall.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs. Cars thunder past on the road behind them.

“This is one of my favorite spots,” Hua Cheng says. “I’m always taken by the vastness of the ocean here. It seems so full.” He gestures down to where the water buffets the base of the cliffs below them. “Like it’s a moment from overflowing.”

Xie Lian ponders this. “I’ve never thought of the ocean as full or not,” he says. “The implication being that no more water can be added; that it’s complete as is, existing within its bounds.”

“It’s a philosophical puzzle, isn’t it?” says Hua Cheng lightly. “Of course, climate change is solving it as we speak. Rising sea levels and all. It seems the ocean has the potential to be boundless, even as we denote lines between sea and shore.”

“And the question then becomes, how accurately can we draw those lines? And is it human folly to even attempt to do so?”

“Of course,” Hua Cheng says, “none of these problems has practical application.”

Xie Lian laughs. “Most of philosophy has no practical application. That’s why it’s philosophy.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hua Cheng replies. “Your philosophy has had effects on my psychology, at the very least. To think of myself as infinite has changed the way I look at the world.”

“And how does it look?” Xie Lian inquires, tilting his head.

Hua Cheng gazes at him, then turns back to face the sea. “Boundless,” he says.

Xie Lian nods. The wind whips past them, whispering coldly against his cheeks and ears. He shudders.

Without a word, Hua Cheng removes his long coat and drapes it over Xie Lian’s shoulders. The coat is warm with his body heat, and all that heat seeps into Xie Lian in a rush. He draws in a breath. When Hua Cheng’s fingers touch his neck to adjust the collar, he wants to shiver again, this time not from the cold.

“Gege.” Hua Cheng’s honey-rich, low voice touches his ear like the strains of a cello. “Would you let me take you someplace nice?”

Xie Lian looks out at the darkening bay. He thinks of the view from his office window, the wall of an adjoining brick building. He could go back there, write and read until the early morning hours. Perhaps he would sleep on the cot he’s laid out in there. Staring at the mottled ceiling, contemplating eternity.

Or he could go with Hua Cheng, who is holding out his hand, looking hopeful.

Xie Lian takes it.

They drive for another 10 minutes along the coast, then take an exit into an area filled with green fields. Huge houses dot the landscape -- this is the domain of the super-rich, Xie Lian thinks, because these fields aren’t used for farming. They’re simply green as far as the eye can see, well-manicured, sometimes interrupted by copses of grand old trees with outstretched branches. Some of the houses are surrounded by lush flower gardens. It’s not an area Xie Lian’s ever been too, nor does it seem like the kind of place he would want to live. But it’s fascinating just to see it for the first time.

Hua Cheng pulls down a narrow road, then turns onto another. Xie Lian squints as he makes out something odd on the horizon. Whatever it is, it’s silver, and a cluster of buildings sit low and flat around it. When wide concrete paths start to interrupt the endless greenery, he realizes what he’s looking at.

“I thought,” he says gingerly, “when you said someplace nice, you meant a fancy restaurant.”

“We can go to a restaurant,” Hua Cheng answers airily. He pulls the car into the yard, and they park. Holding Xie Lian’s fingers loosely, he leads him along the paths toward the airfield. The private jet sits on the runway like a horse at the gate, already humming. A movable staircase leads up to the main entrance. A number of people are working around it. One of them sees the pair approaching and offers Hua Cheng a bow.

“How soon can we be ready?” Hua Cheng asks him.

“Twenty minutes,” the man says. “We’ve been prepping since we got your text.”

Xie Lian wonders when Hua Cheng had managed to text them. “This is your plane?” A silly question; Hua Cheng nods easily, as though everyone has a private airfield with a jet ready to go at any moment. “Where are you taking me?”

Hua Cheng meets his gaze with a smile. “Where would you like to go? Tokyo? Hong Kong? Thailand is stunning this time of year.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian starts, his heart pounding. Hua Cheng smiles that much more widely at the sound of the name. “Isn’t this a little…”

“Much?” Hua Cheng finishes for him. “Not at all. Not for gege.” He lays a hand on the small of Xie Lian’s back -- Xie Lian gasps at the touch -- and ushers him forward until they are both standing at the bottom of that staircase, the airplane’s door a wide unblinking eye at the top. Hua Cheng bows and makes a gesture with his hand toward the staircase -- after you.

Xie Lian’s brain rockets into high gear. He has brought nothing with him but his briefcase, and even that is still in the car. No one knows where he is or where he’s going. He’s traveled a little in life -- nothing too far from home -- but this would be a trip like no other, totally unplanned and utterly irresponsible. Every ounce of common sense in his brain is urging him to shake his head politely and back away.

But this man. This fascinating man, who is offering him the world. For every voice inside Xie Lian that says no, there’s a current of pulsing blood in his veins whispering yes, yes.

“I’m not sure,” he begins, tentatively.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, “You speak of self as containing an infinity of possibilities for every moment of life. But the paradox of infinity is that some infinities are larger than others. At this moment, you have more possibilities than ever before. Given those infinite possibilities, at this moment, what will you choose?”

He’s right. The possibilities facing him right now are truly endless. And hidden in Hua Cheng’s words, there is a challenge -- do you dare? And Xie Lian finds, to his surprise, that he does. He not only dares, he wants. To see this through, to learn more about this man, to take a crazy chance. His heart is pounding with the force of his desire. And once, just once in his studious, conservative life, he listens to it.

He smiles at Hua Cheng, lifts one hand to the railing of the staircase, and begins to ascend.