#nie bunker

[frankencanon]

Non-binary Jin Ling AU where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in the Nie bunker asking the "spirit" all these questions with inquiry and it keeps answering "I don't know" to everything, so finally Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to ask the spirit if they're male since "they have to know that at least" but instead of simply answering "yes" or "no" the "spirit" (Jin Ling) again responds with "I don't know..." 💛🤍💜🖤

#jin ling #jin rulan #the untamed #cql #chen qing ling #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #nie bunker #nie ancestral shrine #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jl #jrl #mdzs jin ling #mdzs jl #non binary #nonbinary #nb #genderqueer #nonbinary jin ling #queer #gender #questioning #trans jin ling #trans #transgender

[silverysnake]

Vielleicht hat schon jemand einen Post hierzu gemacht, aber ich habe (vielleicht) eine neue layer der Krankenhausszene in KdE (aka "Der Mittelpunkt der Welt" "Deiner Welt vielleicht") aufgedeckt und das kann ich nicht für mich behalten. 

Erstmal, die Szene auf der Brücke. Adam und Leo sind auf dem Rückweg von der Party, Leo konfrontiert Adam nochmal wegen der Schramme an seinem Kopf. Adam sagt ihm was passiert ist, zumindest teilweise. Und dann geht Adam weg, verlässt das Gespräch. Um Vincent Ross zu zitieren: "Er geht raus aus der Kommunikation."

Und Leo? Der schaut Adam kurz nach, wahrscheinlich einfach nur sauer und enttäuscht. Und dann läuft er Adam nach. Man sieht es on screen nicht, aber Leo muss Adam nach einem Moment hinterher sein, schließlich sind sie in der nächsten Szene zusammen im Bunker. 

Die Szene im Krankenhaus passiert einfach komplett parallel dazu. Leo konfrontiert Adam, wie auf der Brücke. Adam erzählt Leo nicht alles, wirft noch was ein um Leo zu verletzen, ihr Gespräch ist genau so unhilfreich und führt zu nichts wie es das auf der Brücke auch getan hat. Und wieder geht Adam, zieht sich aus der Sache raus, zieht sich aus der Konfrontation raus die wieder von Leo angefangen wurde. Und Leo? Leo schaut ihm wieder nach, starrt ihm hinterher. Aber dieses Mal läuft er Adam nicht nach. 

Das die Szenen so parallel zueinander verlaufen ist mir vorher nie aufgefallen, und jetzt stellt sich mir natürlich die Frage ob Adam auch hier, wie vorher an der Brücke, erwartet halt das Leo ihm nachläuft. So wie er es vorher getan hat, so wie er es bestimmt schon viele Male in der Vergangenheit getan hat. Und das sie wieder in ihr vorheriges Muster zurückfallen, auch wenn da jetzt diese Worte zwischen ihnen hängen. 

Adam hat sich sogar gut sichtbar positioniert. Klar, ich weiß nicht genau wo der Parkplatz des Krankenhauses ist, aber der Fakt das Leo ja recht nah an Adam und dieser Brücke vorbeifährt legt die Vermutung nahe das er Adam dort gesehen hat. Nur das er ihm dieses eine Mal nicht nachgelaufen ist. 

Und Adam starrt ihm auch nur hinterher, wahrscheinlich geschockt das Leo ihr Muster aufgebrochen und einfach gegangen ist. 

Ich finde Pias Reaktion bestätigt das auch noch. Das nächste Mal das wir Leo sehen betritt er gerade das Büro. Das Erste was Pia zu ihm sagt, ist: "Wo hast du denn Adam gelassen?". Als wäre es völlig selbstverständlich das Leo Adam mitbringt wenn sie zusammen rausgefahren sind, das Adam eigentlich immer an Leos Seite ist. Nur dieses Mal halt nicht, denn dieses Mal ist Leo Adam nicht nachgelaufen als dieser sich entfernt hat. 

Das bestätigt auch irgendwie Leos Antwort. "Auf dem Weg verloren." Auf dem Weg verloren, weil er ihn nicht auf dem Weg aufgesammelt hat um ihn mitzubringen, so wie er es sonst IMMER getan hat seitdem Adam zurück in Saarbrücken ist. Vielleicht auch, weil er immer Angst hat das Adam wieder abhaut, so wie damals. Vielleicht läuft Leo ihm deshalb jedes Mal nach, nur dieses eine Mal halt nicht. Vielleicht hat Adam deshalb auch erwartet das Leo ihm nachläuft, falls das tatsächlich seine Intention war. Weil er es sonst immer getan hat.

#spatort #tatort saarbrücken #keinen plan ob da schonmal wer was zu geschrieben hat #ich hab auf jeden fall noch nie was dazu gesehen aber falls es was gibt leitet mir das gerne weiter #ich bin gespannt ob da wer anders schonmal was zu gesehen hat #ich hab das gestern erst beim kde rewatch bemerkt und bin dann ein bisschen durchgedreht #bin ich ein bisschen am überreagieren? vielleicht #ist das beabsichtigt? fragwürdig wir sprechen hier immer noch von einem tatort #aber ja finde das ist auch einfach ne sehr schöne darstellung von leo und adams relationship #adam haut ab wenn es ihm zu viel wird besonders bei konfrontationen #und leo läuft ihm jedes einzelne mal hinterher weil er angst hat das adam wieder abhaut

[lanbichenbunny]

Nie Huaisang is a great actor…

Well he’s better than Wei Ying at any rate.

I think when he sees Wei Ying in the in after the man eating bunker thing. It’s I think it’s the first confirmation he has that Wei Ying is back in Mo Xuanyu’s body.

Seeing him must still be something of a shock to know his reckless plan has worked. Mo Xanyu’s sacrifice as he had hoped and planned.

He covers his face to protect the real reaction he’s having, he has to pretend not to know Mo Xuanyu and to not know that Mo Xanyu is actually Wei Ying.

I really think he’s hiding a smile behind the fan. His plan that was years in the making has paid off and he can continue to the end goal for his ‘justice’.

He’s definitely having a cat that’s got the cream moment but he’s also truly intimidated by Lan Zhan and no doubt by Wei Ying too, knowing how smart the duo is.

#mo xuanyu #mdzs #the untamed #mxtx fandom #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs fandom #wei ying #lan zhan #nie huaisang

[forestlion]

Das Schwoben-Manifesto: eine Übernatürlich-Fanfiktion

Die Gebrüder Wuppertal saßen bedächtig am Küchentisch in ihrem Zweiter-Weltkrieg-Bunker und löffelten Hochzeitstütensuppe von Knorr, als plötzlich eine 1,79cm große Gestalt vor ihnen auftauchte.

"Jungs", grunzte Karsten Engeldesherrn - seines Zeichens halb Mann, halb Brieftaube - mit röchelnder Lunge. "Ich habe einen neuen Fall für TKKG, die Profis in spe. T steht für Tieter, K für Karsten, K für Kamuel und G für Gute Laune. Spe steht für das Waschmittel mit dem Fuchs."

"TKKG? Ich dachte, wir hätten uns auf die Drei Semikolons;;; geeinigt?", fragte Samuel Wuppertal und stellte seine Club Mate zur Seite, aber so, dass die Kamera das Logo einfing.

"Ich dachte, wir sind die plus/minus fünf Freunde?", meinte Dieter Wuppertal und ließ die Gummiträger seiner schwarzen BDSM-Lack- und Lederhose schnalzen.

Karsten zuckte mit den Schultern und ließ seinen fliederfarbenen Fjällräven Kanken-Rucksack auf den Boden neben dem Tisch plumpsen. Mit einem Seufzer zog er sich auch seine beige Patagonia-Daunenjacke aus, die er günstig auf www Punkt bergsteiger Punkt de ergattert hatte. “Lirum, Larum.”, sagte Karsten und setzte sich zu den Ehrlich Brothers an den Tisch. 

"Dann schieß mal los, Karsti.", sagte Samu und haute mit seiner Elefantenhand auf die Tischfläche, sodass das blumige Porzellangeschirr mit Goldakzenten klirrte. 

"Ich besitze weder eine Schusswaffe, noch eine Schusswaffenlizenz, mein werter Herr Gesangsverein.", entgegnete der Engel unbeeindruckt und mit gerunzelter Stirn, die Falten und Wellen auf seinem Gesicht schlug. 

"Boah, jetzt sag halt!", murrte Diddi ungeduldig und fuhr sich durch sein kurzgeschorenes Haar, Seiten - wie immer - auf null. 

"Hetz mich nicht!", hisste Karsten. "Also. Ihr werdet's mir echt nicht glauben, aber ich war in… in… Stuttgart."

Die zwei Brüder atmeten erschrocken ein, schauten sich gegenseitig an, atmeten erschrocken wieder aus, erblickten Karsten, der langsam nickte, atmeten erneut erschrocken und furchtvoll ein. Sie brüteten für einen Moment sprachlos über ihrer kalt gewordenen Suppe. Dann ergriff Dieter das Maggi-Geschmacksverstärkerfläschchen, das neben den Backerbsen stand mit zitternder Hand.

“Alter, ich war in der Hölle… Samu war im Käfig mit Luzifer… wir waren im Fegefeuer… aber… aber Stuttgart? Heimat und Headquarters von Big Schwoben? Karsten…”, sagte Diddi mit bebender Stimme. 

"Es war schlimm. Ich habe menschliche Abgründe gesehen, die noch nie zuvor von einem lebenden Wesen gesehen worden waren… nicht einmal der Teufel wäre so niederträchtig…”, gestand der Engel kopfschüttelnd. “Nicht meinem schlimmsten Feind würde ich es wünschen, Stuttgart und Umgebung erleben zu müssen.”

Diddi und Samu nickten zustimmend. Sie hatten von Stuttgart gehört, allerdings nichts Gutes. 

“Und es war…”

“War was?”

“Es war K… Kehrwoch…”, flüsterte Karsten mit schwacher Stimme.

Samuel sprang vom Tisch auf, Dieter vergrub sein Gesicht in seinen Händen.

“Verflixt und zugenäht!”, schimpfte Samu. “Hippopotamusbullenpropellerschwanzmist! ” 

“Es tut mir so leid, Karsten.”, schniefte Dieter. “Das ist böse, richtig böse.”

“Und der Fall, den ich für uns gefunden habe, ist in…”

“Sag es nicht! Sag es nicht!”

 

“Stuttgart.”

#german stuff #Deutsch #Supernatural #Übernatürlich #Spn #The way i fully forgot about my ao3 #Bin wie vom Blitz getroffen #Auch meine biohackers fics #Someone commented and asked a question about my thought process #But ill keep it real. I dont even remember writing it #I reread it and some of the names used i dont even remember #Rip #My b

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

Infos aus dem Kika-Chat

Bevor ich mir jetzt die dritte Folge mit der Schminkszene und dem Nolin-Heartbreak reinziehe, werfen wir doch mal einen Blick auf darauf, wie sich unser Lieblingstrio im Kika-Chat geschlagen hat.

Philip hat im Oktober Geburtstag

Samuel wird das Gefühl von dem Schleim nie vergessen

Johnny ist immer noch 16, wird aber demnächst 17

Philip möchte mit der Schauspielerei gerne noch etwas weitermachen

Wir werden etwas über die Beziehung zwischen Noah und seinen Eltern sehen (ob das in Folge 1053 schon alles war bleibt abzuwarten)

Johnny mag, wie Colin "Konflikte mit anderen und sich selbst meistern konnte" (ist das jetzt ein gutes Omen?)

Samuel ist mit Staffel 15 bis 20 aufgewachsen, aber seine Lieblingsstaffeln sind 26 und 27. (Staffel 15 war auch bei mir die erste Staffel, die ich komplett geguckt habe. Wenn ich mich Recht erinnere bin ich irgendwo am Ende von Staffel 14 eingestiegen.)

Samuel findet Pastinake besser als Fenchel

Samuel ist 16 und hat im Juni Geburtstag

Johnny hat immer noch eine Freundin (wieso werden schon wieder Fragen zum Beziehungsstatus zugelassen)

Johnny auf die Frage, ob er ein Nolin-Shipper ist: "Sind wir das nicht alle?"

Philip ist 18

Samuel hat noch nie Fenchelsaft probiert, stellt ihn sich aber eklig vor

Philip hat mit Noah (neben der Frisur) die zurückhaltende Art gemeinsam

Johnny ist nicht schwul (WIESO WURDE DAS SCHON WIEDER DURCHGELASSEN?)

Samuel hofft, nach Schloss Einstein weiter zu schauspielern

Samuel auf die Frage, warum er so cool ist: "Gene?"

Philip hat einen Bruder namens Simon

Samuel auf die Frage, wie er Nolin findet "Als Joel bin ich glaube verpflichtet, Noah und Colin zu unterstützen"

Samuel auf die Frage, was er davon hält, dass alle einen Crush auf ihn haben: "Ich denke, das ist Quatsch". Die TikTok Edits sagen etwas anderes lol.

Freddy ist immer noch bei Chung

Johnny hat einen Hund

Philip auf die Frage, ob er Nolin shippt: "Ja schon"

Samuel ist 1,75 groß

Johnnys Lieblingsfilm ist Seven, den soll man aber natürlich nur schauen, wenn man alt genug ist (Ist wirklich ein guter Film!)

Samuel hört gerne eine bunte Mischung aus allem, vor allem Rock, Indie, Jazz und Neue Neue Deutsche Welle (Neue Neue Deutsche Welle, my beloved!)

Samuel findet, dass eine Lovestory zwischen Joel und Annika gut gepasst hätte, aber grundsätzlich ist alles gut, wie es ist

Samuels momentaner Lieblingssong ist Bunker von Balthazar

#schloss einstein

[opheliagreif]

Wenn du magst, würde ich gern wissen, was "Adam der Innenausstatter" so treibt.

Empfiehlt er seinen Kund:innen nikotin-gelbe Gardinen zu denim-blauen Tapeten? 🌻

Oh das wäre schön. 😁

Adam der Innenausstatter ist ein 5+1, in dem Adam Stück für Stück seine Wohnung zu seinem eigenen Raum macht. Das plus eins ist dann kein Möbelstück, sondern ein jemand. ;)

Das Haus ist gelb und er wohnt im Erdgeschoss. Der Garten gehört mit dazu und Adam ist insgeheim froh über die vielen Sträucher und Bäume, die er nicht pflegen muss. Rasen mähen sollte er noch hinbekommen und wenn nicht, kann er ja immer noch Pia fragen, die im Gartengroßgeräteladen ihres Vaters aufgewachsen ist und entsprechende Ahnung hat.

Adam muss nicht streichen, die Wände will er weiterhin weiß haben, also kann er sich ganz der Inneneinrichtung widmen.

Von der er keine Ahnung hat.

Er recherchiert im Netz und stößt auf eine Seite mit dem Namen Pinterest. Das ist ein Fehler, stellt er fest, denn es kostet ihn Nächte seines Lebens, sich durch die Bilderflut zu klicken, eigene Ordner anzulegen und seine Ergebnisse zu katalogisieren. Er kommt unausgeschlafen und mit Augenringen zur Arbeit und Pia nimmt ihn schließlich zur Seite.

Genaugenommen stellt sie ihn in ihrer Mini-Teeküche und blockiert den Ausgang.

„Dir geht es nicht gut“, sagt sie und es ist keine Frage. Adam, dem es in seinem Leben noch nie besser gegangen ist als jetzt, hebt überrascht die Augenbrauen. Selbst mit seiner Matratze und seinem Laptop als einzige Einrichtungsgegenstände außer den nackten Glühbirnen an seiner Decke, fühlt er sich wohler als im Bunker oder im Hotelzimmer.

„Doch“, widerspricht er und die Polizistin in ihr will schon die Lüge aufdecken, als Adam sein Handy aus der Tasche zieht und seine Pinterest-App, die er sich noch zusätzlich auf das Gerät gezogen hat, aufruft. Kommentarlos zeigt er ihr seine Listen und ihre Augen werden größer und größer.

„Du Opfer“, lacht sie schließlich und zieht ihr eigenes Smartphone hervor. Sie ruft ihre Version auf und added ihn unzeremoniell.

#ask game #Tatort Saarbrücken #Adam der Innenausstatter

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 34

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Dog Days

We jump right into some comic relief, in which Wei Wuxian runs away from Fairy, Jin Ling's dog, and Lan Wangji protects him. Wei Wuxian's terror of dogs comes from trauma, like so many features of his personality, but the show takes this opportunity to play it for laughs, with broad comedic acting from both of our leads. This is tonally jarring for me, because I know fuck-all about the very long and deep literary traditions that create the framework of comedy in Chinese drama.  I’m confident that it’s not jarring for its intended audience.

In any case, I love that CQL and all versions of MDZS constantly leaven the heavy stuff with moments of ridiculousness and whimsey. The mix goes both ways; under the absurdity is often something serious. In this moment, we see that when Wei Wuxian is viscerally afraid, he calls for Lan Wangji to save him, and Lan Wangji immediately does.

Afterwards Wei Wuxian briefly looks at Lan Wangji like this:

He is SO gone for Lan Wangji.

Then they go to talk to the art seller, to try to get some information about weird things happening in town. He claims to know everything, and tells Wei Wuxian about the man eating bunker on the ridge.

The seller does not, alas, know all that much, and Wei Wuxian roasts him for being useless while Lan Wangji half-smirks in the background.

He is so gone for Wei Wuxian.

(more after the cut!)

Wei Wuxian learns about the decline of the Nie clan under its current leader, Nie Huaisang, who has been acting like a dumbass as part of his “not getting murdered” campaign. 

Underneath the Bunker

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian talk about the new state of things while they walk through the woods to the man-eating crypt. I love the way they walk together here; Lan Wangji perfectly vertical and steady, all Yang in his white robes; Wei Wuxian swaying, sinuous, all Yin in his black ones.

Fairy barks in the distance and Wei Wuxian freaks out, grabbing Lan Wangji, but he doesn't want to answer when Lan Wangji asks him why.  Lan Wangji doesn't press for an answer, but Wei Wuxian immediately relents and gives him one anyway, and explains about being homeless and fighting with dogs for food when he was a kid. 

From there he jumps to thinking about Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng and how they hate him, and kind of collapses into being bummed out. Lan Wangji doesn't say anything, but listens and lets Wei Wuxian have a moment to get back into a better headspace.

This is a new dynamic for them; normally Wei Wuxian doesn't let his guard down enough to talk about his difficulties, and previously Lan Wangji didn't miss an opportunity to try to tell Wei Wuxian what to do.

More barking and grabby hands ensue, with Wei Wuxian clinging to Lan Wangji an unreasonable amount, and Lan Wangji rolling with it because being grabbed by Wei Wuxian is his favorite thing, even better than catching Wei Ying when he faints. 

At least, it's his favorite thing right now because they haven't progressed to blow jobs yet.

Blow jobs, you say...

They find the crypt, which is full of resentful energy and bad skeleton props. 

Wei Wuxian, in his new life, has retained his ability to hear resentful spirits yelling in his head. That's awesome for him and for Lan Wangji, who super missed getting to be paralyzed with fear for his beloved.

Wei Wuxian pulls out his compass of evil, which Lan Wangji apparently kept and has given back to him. As if you need a compass to find evil in this joint.

Surprise! It's in the room with all the coffins! (Wu Xie, poking his head in from Daomu Biji: Let's open them, what could go wrong?)

They open up the coffins and find blades in all of them, so Lan Wangji goes to play Inquiry to see what's up. We learn more about inquiry as Lan Wangji tries to get an answer from whatever spirit is in the place. 

He also takes an opportunity to be amusingly literal with Wei Wuxian, in a possible callback to that time when Wei Wuxian introduced him to Suibian. He earns praise and some obvious elevator eyes as a reward for his joke. 

Unlike that time in the ice cave, Lan Wangji doesn’t mind a bit when Wei Wuxian hops up to sit next to the guqin while he plays it.

And for this, he is rewarded with Wei Wuxian’s undivided attention. See, Lan Wangji? Letting neuroatypical kids sit the way they want enhances their learning. 

We discover that Lan Wangji is, unsurprisingly, a mensch when it comes to inquiry; he says the spirit can't lie because “I am here.” 

They figure out that the spirit is Jin Ling who is...not dead? Inquiry apparently works on living beings as well? Eh, whatever.

For The Love Of God, Montresor

They follow the instructions from Inquiry to find Jin Ling and dig him out of the wall.  

Camera Operator: What did I ever do to you?

This wall doesn't have any mortar in it, which is good since it needs to be easy for people to bury themselves in it. After Jin Ling got sucked into the wall, did he put the stones back? 

Anyway, 1500 years ago, folks in China developed a strong mortar by mixing slaked limestone with sticky rice soup. The Nie clan can't be bothered with that, though.

Apparently being buried and deprived of oxygen for a super long time doesn't kill you if you're a cultivator, given that Jin Ling has been in this wall for quite a while. 

Here we get another look at older, warmer Lan Wangji, who is a natural caretaker, kind to young people, and doesn't object to touching people, at least not if they need help or are in some way related to Wei Wuxian. 

He pulls Jin Ling into his lap immediately and starts feeding him spiritual energy while Wei Wuxian casually grabs Bichen and uses its hilt to dig out more of the wall. If this seems like a disrespectful way to treat Bichen, never, ever read the extra chapters of the novel.  Lan Wangji doesn’t blink at Wei Wuxian borrowing his sword. 

While Wei Wuxian takes a minute to try to understand what he's feeling in the weird energies of the place, Jin Ling hops up and tries to stick himself back into the wall. Persistent little guy. They haul Jin Ling out of there and see that Nie Huaisang a mysterious someone is lurking outside.

Lan Wangji is super reluctant to leave Wei Wuxian's side, hesitating until Wei Wuxian emphatically says he will meet him in town. 

Then he goes to chase Nie Huaisang the mysterious intruder, who easily escapes from world’s greatest cultivator Hanguang-Jun, which is...not plausible.

Cursed Reunion

Back at the Inn, Jin Ling wakes up while Wei Wuxian is checking his chest for signs of a curse, and flips out because Mo Xuanyu is taking off his clothes and (unbeknownst to Wei Wuxian) has a reputation as a sex pest. 

Jin Ling goes running off while Wei Wuxian is distracted by a flashback of Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian follows him, only to run into Fairy and Jiang Cheng. This time, Lan Wangji isn't there to help out, because he's busy filming Day Day Up gazing at the moon and thinking about Wei Wuxian.  

Jiang Cheng makes Wei Wuxian remove his mask, and the reunion gets rolling. The music cue for this is the extra sad, falling-off-cliffs music.

Jiang Cheng decides to torment Wei Wuxian with Fairy while they yell at each other, and this time Wei Wuxian’s fear is not played for laughs. 

This Wei Wuxian to have a flashback to a time he was chased by an adorable friendly dog a scary dog, and rescued by Jiang Yanli. He calls out "Shijie" and Jiang Cheng gets even more pissed off. 

He starts to talk a little smack about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian instantly claps back, and it just escalates form there.

Jiang Cheng has plenty of valid reasons to be angry; Wei Wuxian's loss of control did lead to Jin Zixuan's death and to a lot of the shitshow at Nightless City. It doesn't matter that there was a second flute; if I'm in charge of the firewall and I don't actually have a firewall, it's my fault if hackers take over my company servers and/or fierce corpses.  

But he is apparently mad that Wei Wuxian didn't come to Lotus Pier immediately upon returning from death. 

You know, the death that Jiang Cheng kind of directly caused. Not to be confused with the death Jiang Cheng has been dishing out to random demonic cultivators since then, and encouraging Jin Ling to dish out. He's got a hell of a nerve to expect Wei Wuxian to voluntarily come anywhere near him.

On the flip side, when Jiang Cheng, reasonably, wants to know where Wen Ning is, Wei Wuxian stupidly wonders why Jiang Cheng still hates Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian asks what more he wants from them, both of them having died already. Like, if you do a clean reboot, everything should be good, right?

But Jiang Cheng wanted to kill Wen Ning even before the whole spine-crushing incident, so there's no reason he should have changed his plan in the intervening years. Wei Wuxian tries to get him to think about why Wen Ning isn't dead, but Jiang Cheng is too angry.

Jin Ling shows up to tell him he thinks he knows where Wen Ning is, which is just bullshit to lure Jiang Cheng. He tells him that he didn't say anything earlier because Jiang Cheng was being too much of a bitch. Jiang Cheng bristles and Wei Wuxian gives Jin Ling the sweetest, most loving look. 

He’s already starting to adore Jin Ling, with all his flaws, in the same way he adored a younger Jiang Cheng with all of *his* flaws.

Jiang Cheng ties Wei Wuxian up with Zidian and cleverly puts his rebellious teenager in charge of watching his silver-tongued brother.

Jin Ling, comfortable with command, at least where Jiang disciples are concerned, tells all the guards to fuck off.  He calls Zidian to his hand, which speaks to the closeness of his relationship with his Jiujiu. Jiang Cheng certainly couldn't wield Zidian while his Mom was still around. Then Jin Ling takes Wei Wuxian out of town again to let him go.

Let’s Dip

I like their synchronized sneaking; it makes me want to see them have more adventures together.

Out in the woods, Wei Wuxian, who once named a sword "Whatever," roasts Jin Ling for his dog-naming methods. They talk about Jiang Cheng's obsession with catching Wei Wuxian, which makes him think everyone is Wei Wuxian. Which in turn makes Jin Ling think that the dude in front of him is not actually Wei Wuxian. 

Then Wei Wuxian talks to Jin Ling about the importance of learning to say thank you and sorry.

He follows this up by saying sorry for his comments at Dafan mountain. Jin Ling reacts like nobody has ever sincerely apologized to him in his life, which is very possible, considering that Jiang Cheng is not exactly the apologizing type, and everything Jin Guangyao says is insincere. 

Jin Ling talks about his ambitions and Wei Wuxian nods approvingly, which is sweet, but he follows it up by knocking Jin Ling out so he can take care of the curse on his leg. This family, man. So rough. Wei Wuxian takes care of the curse, predictably, by transferring it to his own body. I'm sure Lan Wangji won't be upset about that.

Soundtrack: Underneath the Bunker by R.E.M

Writing Prompt: Jiang Cheng trying to apologize for anything, to anyone, and making an utter hash of it.

#the untamed #the untamed meta #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #wangxian #jin ling #canary3d-original #also on ao3

[mona-liar]

Nein :(((((( Ich dachte wirklich wir müssten ihn nie wiedersehen :(((

Im ersten Presserelease war doch von Wohnung die Rede, oder erinner ich mich da falsch dran??? Warum zieht Adam in den fucking Bunker???

#spatort spoiler #DKdE Spoiler

[dithschi]

Eigentlich hatte ich gehofft den Bunker nie wieder sehen zu müssen. Aber, dass Adam da EINZIEHT?? HALLO??? ?? ???? ???? Das einfach insane behaviour. Einzige Situation in der das auch nur halbwegs okay wäre: Wenn Leo seine innere Tine Wittler channelt, um aus diesem Alptraumhaus was einigermaßen bewohnbares zu machen. Und dann mit einzieht.

#tatort saarbrücken #spatort #nichts gegen den geschmack der leute die da tatsächlich wohnen #aber ihr habt schrecklichen geschmack

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Soldier, Poet, King

Part 14

[Beginning] [Previous]

[AO3] [Masterpost]

Warning for Lan Xichen experiencing a pretty strong panic attack that requires him to be sedated so that he doesn't endanger himself (in the sense of this universe, i.e. neural overload rather than becoming a risk for self-harming etc.)

--//--

With the battle won, now seems like the perfect time for Lan Xichen to have a chance to have a bit of a come apart. He’d helped everyone else through theirs, and he’d been happy to do it — but his brother is still out there somewhere, had been down in the city when the Kaiju landed, and his partners aren’t doing well at all, and his dear friend and her partner are currently being extracted carefully from their forcefully-shut-down Jaeger out in the rubble of the city to receive emergency medical attention lest they die, and everything happening is just so much to deal with, when is he allowed to break down on someone’s shoulder?

Nie Mingjue is stonily silent as he holds Jin Guangyao in his arms, sitting there on the floor of the comms tower right where their partner had collapsed, and when he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair off Jin Guangyao’s forehead Lan Xichen can see how badly his fingers shake. He aches to beg someone to help them, for someone to bring him the news of his brother and Wei Wuxian, or to at least keep an eye out for Lan Wangji and let Lan Xichen know when he returns — he yearns for the chance, for once, to not be the one who holds everyone else together.

But Jiang Wanyin and all of the (conscious) Jins are down in Sparks’ Bay 5 anxiously waiting for Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan to be brought in, Nie Zonghui is coordinating the effort of emptying the bunkers again and sending people out to check on the citizens of the rest of the city in the aftermath, and there’s no one left to ask that he feels like he can burden with their problems.

He falls to his knees in front of Nie Mingjue and leans in slowly enough to know Nie Mingjue is watching him to press their foreheads together and breathe through the trembling panic buzzing right under his skin. Nie Mingjue exhales heavily and leans forward enough to increase the pressure, so Lan Xichen tips his chin to brush a barely-there kiss to his bloodless lips.

“We should get him somewhere else…somewhere that’s not the floor,” Lan Xichen mumbles after a few more moments spent just sharing Nie Mingjue’s space. He’s close enough to hear the thickness in Nie Mingjue’s throat when he swallows and pulls back enough to look down at Jin Guangyao lying unconscious between them, far too small and pale. Nie Mingjue gathers him closer, too tight, and Lan Xichen tuts as the shift in position forces Jin Guangyao’s head to loll back at an angle that wouldn’t be at all comfortable were he awake.

“I can’t,” Nie Mingjue chokes. “I…He’ll wake up. Then we can go. I can’t –”

Lan Xichen hums softly in the back of his throat and puts a grounding hand on the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck to squeeze tightly, silently understanding. He readjusts to get a little more comfortable sitting on the floor and tucks himself close enough that Nie Mingjue can curl forward to hide in his neck as he clutches Jin Guangyao close and breathes through his usual post-battle comedown.

Lan Xichen isn’t sure how long they’ve been there when there’s a tentative knock at the door and he turns his head enough to spot Wen Ning, of all people, poking his pale face around the door frame.

“Zewu-jun, Chifeng-zun,” he greets with a little bob of his head. “Jie’s looking after Jiang-guniang and Jin-gongzi, she sent me to check on the three of you.”

“Come in, Qionglin. How are they?”

“Unconscious, but stable,” he says with barely a stutter as he bustles in, a standard issue portable first aid field kit strapped to his thigh and hip. “They’ll be alright, jiejie’s the best doctor in the world for neural overload.”

“Mn. And..Wangji? Wuxian?” It feels wrong to ask, a jinx, but Wen Ning just nods again as he settles in on his knees there on the floor with them at the top of Jin Guangyao’s head so that Nie Mingjue doesn’t need to change how he’s holding him for Wen Ning to start taking his vitals.

“They’re fine! They got in a shelter when it hit land. Wei-gongzi borrowed a phone off someone they were with in the bunker and called jie once they opened back up to let people out. They said they’re going to help with the clean-up and redirecting everyone back to the residential quarters, but they’ll be back as soon as they’re finished.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes and turns his face away from Wen Ning to have a moment to let pure, naked relief cross his features. His hands shake where he’s supporting Jin Guangyao’s head and still cupping the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck and Nie Mingjue leans in to brush a kiss to his cheek in silent understanding.

Wen Ning works in silence for a few long moments, taking Jin Guangyao’s vitals and, when Lan Xichen gives him a nod to go ahead, checking his eyes with a flashlight. Lan Xichen’s hope that it would wake him up is in vain, but Wen Ning doesn’t look any more concerned or serious than usual so he does his best to believe that this isn’t overly worrying.

“I’d need to get him down to the medical labs for a full test if you want me to scan his brain activity, but I’d say he’s mostly just been overwhelmed,” Wen Ning says when he’s finished and he gently sits back to let Nie Mingjue readjust his grip on Jin Guangyao again, to pull him closer. “I…I heard what happened. Reliving his trauma would have taken a lot out of him to begin with, even before the..the rest of it. He needs to rest somewhere quiet, your quarters should be perfectly fine. Though of course if you want to bring him down to the medical bay you’re welcome to. We’ve got plenty of cots.”

“We’ll take him home,” Nie Mingjue rasps. He sounds like absolute hell, and Lan Xichen sees Wen Ning pick up on that instantly, his wide gaze turning shrewd.

“Chifeng-zun. I’d like to examine you as well.”

“I’m fine.”

Lan Xichen subtly shifts a little to the side to give Wen Ning room to get a look at Nie Mingjue’s eyes, which he realizes too late are bloodshot, and more than a little unfocused.

“Jie’s orders. Everyone gets a checkup.”

“I said I’m fine!”

“Mingjue.” Lan Xichen is proud that the fresh fear spiking through him isn’t audible, his voice instead firm, authoritative (he’ll find time later to ruminate on how much he sounds like Lan Qiren). “Let Qionglin examine you or I will knock you unconscious as well. You’re slipping.”

Nie Mingjue, for the first time since they’d met, looks absolutely livid. With him.

Lan Xichen meets his burning gaze calmly, steadily. It’s who he is. It’s who he always has been.

Calm.

Steady.

Always there to support. To guide. To lead.

What else is there for him to do?

Nie Mingjue bares his teeth at him and clutches Jin Guangyao so tightly Lan Xichen hears his too-relaxed shoulder pop.

“You’re hurting him, Mingjue,” he whispers. “Let me hold him, just long enough for Qionglin to check you over.”

Perhaps no one else would be able to see it (no, Jin Guangyao would be able to as well, if he were awake) but Lan Xichen can see something like sense in the depths of Nie Mingjue’s unfocused glare. He can only imagine what sort of internal battle his lover is fighting, straining back to reality when it would be so easier to let his demons win. Wen Ning is motionless and silent beside them, waiting patiently for Lan Xichen to succeed, as if he can’t imagine that he won’t. Lan Xichen reaches out — slowly, slowly — and covers Nie Mingjue’s too-hard hands with his own.

Gently.

Nie Mingjue’s fingers twitch under his and Lan Xichen helps him begin to loosen the death grip he has on Jin Guangyao’s arm and thigh.

“It’s alright, ge,” Lan Xichen murmurs. “I’m right here, we’re safe. But I need you to let me have A-Yao, just for a moment.”

Lan Xichen forces himself to stay precisely where he is as he hears the lift clattering up to the top of the comms tower.

“Mingjue, love — please, you have to let go.”

“Da-ge!!”

Lan Xichen watches a bit more light return to Nie Mingjue’s gaze at the sound of Nie Huaisang’s voice and his grip loosens again, ever so slightly. Lan Xichen brushes his thumbs against Nie Mingjue’s knuckles and ducks his head enough to catch his gaze again.

“Mingjue, let me hold A-Yao so Huaisang can help Qionglin.”

“What are you all doing on the floor?” Huaisang asks — too loud, too fast. He swings into the room and barrels straight through the fraught atmosphere to drape himself over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders, arms tight around his brother’s neck so he can burrow into him like a child getting a piggy-back ride.

“A-Sang?” Nie Mingjue rasps. His arms finally uncurl and Lan Xichen exhales a soft sigh of relief as he hurries to transfer Jin Guangyao’s limp, prone form into his own arms, across his own lap. Lan Xichen strokes Jin Guangyao’s short fringe back from his forehead while Nie Huaisang distracts Nie Mingjue with his chattering about how uncomfortable the bunkers are, how he’s so happy they weren’t in there for too long, how everyone’s settling back in nicely after being let out.

“Go on, Qionglin, he won’t hurt you,” Lan Xichen reassures Wen Ning at a questioning glance. The man nods his shy thanks before he reaches out for Nie Mingjue’s wrist to start taking his vitals with the little scanner from the first aid kit. Lan Xichen actually watches the sense return to Nie Mingjue’s eyes as he listens to his brother giving a play-by-play of the gossip down in the bunkers, as Wen Ning takes him mechanically through the usual battery of check-ups — something that he knows Nie Mingjue has sat through with varying degrees of willingness too many times to count.

“Zewu-jun, I’d like to check you over too.”

“Yes, of course,” he agrees easily with a smile to hide the fact that he hadn’t even realized Wen Ning had finished with Nie Mingjue, too lost in thoughts of his own to follow the familiar beats of the routine. Wen Ning lets him keep holding Jin Guangyao as he goes through the same steps again, taking his vitals with all the ease of years spent training under and then working alongside his sister.

“Do you need us to keep an eye on Chifeng-zun?” Wen Ning murmurs when he shuffles behind Lan Xichen to press on a few acupressure points in the back of his neck. “He’s still at risk.”

Lan Xichen shakes his head in a soft no. Across from him, Nie Mingjue looks a little confused, a little lost, and more than anything painfully exhausted. But he thinks of seeing him in the medical bay, hooked to monitors and hanging onto his sanity with little more than gritted teeth and clenched fists, and his heart breaks.

Wen Ning presses a few more spots on his neck and shoulders until his heartbeat slows and he feels like he can take a deep breath again. It nearly ends on a hitching sob but he controls himself with force of will and a lifetime of practice. He controls himself long enough to bundle Jin Guangyao up in his arms to stand with him, long enough to capture Nie Mingjue’s wandering attention and signal for him to follow, long enough for them to move in an uncertain shuffle — him, Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning — down through the shatterdome, down long corridors bustling with people returning to their business or else rushing to help wherever they’ve been called, until they reach their quarters.

Lan Xichen continues to keep it together through getting Nie Mingjue settled in bed with Jin Guangyao wrapped up tightly in his arms once again, and through sending the others out into the hallway with reassurances that they’ve got things under control, that they’re going to be fine and yes, of course he’ll call if he needs help.

Nie Mingjue’s gaze is heavy on him as he closes the door, and leans against it, and breathes in.

Out.

In.

Out.

The shivery feeling in his chest is back with a vengeance; Xichen pushes off from the door with hands that don’t feel the cold bite of the metal, nor the way he fumbles and accidentally bashes his knuckles against the jut of the frame with a clang, bone on steel.

“A-Huan?”

“I just need to step next door for a moment,” Xichen says. “Please stay with A-Yao.”

He swallows around whatever it is that’s trying to escape his chest, his throat, and hurries around the edge of their bed to the door that separates the two halves of their space; the handle slips from his uncertain grasp once, twice, before he manages to push the lever far enough to hear the latch spring free.

“A-Huan!”

“Just stay with A-Yao!” Xichen pleads around the sob clawing its way free with anxious fingers despite his attempts to contain it. He hurries into the other room and accidentally slams the door shut again behind him in his haste to be alone, to be hidden, to be safe —

Do not show excessive emotion.

Maintain your own discipline.

Be strict with yourself.

Do not create damages.

Love all beings.

Uphold the value of justice.

Shoulder the weight of morality.

Have courage and knowledge.

Do not fail to carry out your promise.

Be strict with yourself.

Maintain your own discipline.

Do —

Do not —

Do not show excessive emotion.

Do not show excessive emotion.

Do not show excessive emotion —

Xichen bites his arm hard enough to bruise, better that than to scream, than to cry, than to grieve in excess for something he doesn’t have the vocabulary to put a name to.

It’s too much.

All of it, it’s too much. It’s been too much for so long he didn’t even notice it growing worse.

He can’t stop it, he can’t get out, he has a duty, he has a responsibility, shoulder the weight of morality, uphold the value of justice —

The sob he’s been holding in shakes loose, then free, and the floodgates open, forcing him to curl in on himself where he’s crammed himself in the corner between one wall and another, his back protected and safe as he falls apart at the seams there in the dark as silently as he can try to be. He can’t disturb Mingjue, he can’t do this in front of him when his partner has so much more reason to relapse and lose himself but he hadn’t, he hadn’t, he’s stronger than Lan Xichen will ever be and Lan Xichen can’t even support him right now and if he can’t support his own partners in their hour of need then how can he expect to be their co-pilot, how can he even call himself their partner if this is what he can be reduced to —

“Shhh xiongzhang, I’m here,” Lan Wangji’s voice calls, soft as a memory, and how can Lan Xichen know it isn’t one? He’s been in Nie Mingjue’s head, he’s seen the hallucinations he used to have, heard the voices he used to hear, and now here Lan Xichen is thinking he can hear his brother when there’s no way enough time has passed for them to be back from the city yet. And there’s always so many other things to do for cleanup, his brother wouldn’t come to him first, why would he? He has Wei Wuxian, and together they’re going to heal the world and Lan Xichen will watch from afar his brother wouldn’t be here —

“I am,” Lan Wangji says. The two words, firm and confident and much more present than he’d thought, make him freeze save for his trembling, and though he doesn’t dare look up to see if he’s truly hallucinating this he can’t help but reach blindly into the darkness in front of him, hand grasping, seeking, desperate for proof that he hasn’t been left alone, left behind —

His seeking fingers are caught in a firm grip and Lan Xichen shudders again as he’s tugged forward, closer, out of the bruising smash of his corner and into arms that wrap confidently around his hunching shoulders to press reality back into him through sheer force.

“It’s alright xiongzhang, you’re safe.”

“Wangji?” Nie Mingjue still sounds like hell and Lan Xichen wants desperately to soothe him, send him back to bed, tell him to tend to A-Yao and watch over him, keep their lover safe while he’s so vulnerable.

All that escapes his lips is a whimper.

“He is overwhelmed, but unharmed,” Lan Wangji reports. His voice is cool, clinical, the same voice he’s heard in his mind and at his side too many times to count. He can’t…he can’t be weak, in front of Lan Wangji. He can’t break like this. That isn’t allowed. It’s against the rules.

“You have a responsibility, Xichen,” Lan Qiren tells him. Lan Xichen is fifteen today. After their usual silent breakfast, he had received the expected congratulations for the milestone of another year lived from his brother’s silent, gesturing hands and his uncle’s stern sort of affection that he craves more than anything. “Your brother and I will assist you, but it’s time you step up to start leading the clan as you are meant to do. You cannot fail in this, do you understand me? Too many people are depending on you.”

“Yes, Shufu,” he says, because he knows. He’s known since he was old enough to overhear someone say that he would one day have to lead, and he’d begun preparing for perfection from that day until now. He can do it. He has to.

Lan Xichen clutches the thick canvas of Lan Wangji’s jumpsuit and hides in his brother’s shoulder as if that can hide the fact that he’s finally failed. He couldn’t protect Wangji, he couldn’t protect his lovers, or the people of Shanghai. He can’t do anything now except let fear overtake him, and if that’s all that he can do then how can he ever look his uncle — his brother, the rest of their family — in the eyes again?

“I’m sorry, xiongzhang,” Wangji tells him, soft and for his ears alone. “Everyone will be well, you may ask for help.”

He can’t. He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t —

“Wangji, Wen-daifu is here.”

Lan Xichen flinches away from Nie Mingjue’s ragged voice as much as he recoils from the thought of anyone else outside of his brother or his lover seeing him like this, but Wen Qing steps into the room without waiting for a go-ahead. Lan Xichen attempts to sit up straight around the yanking ache in his gut and the way his entire body wants to remain curled tightly in on itself. His shaking hands release Wangji’s jumpsuit and he swipes them under his eyes just to be sure, startled to feel them suddenly become cool and damp with tears that he wipes away again, a bit harder as if he can scrub his skin clean of the evidence of his weakness.

“Zewu-jun,” she greets, businesslike to combat Wangji’s softness. Lan Xichen jerks as if he’d been shocked, the title reminding of his duty, his reputation, with all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the face. Lan Wangji stiffens in the same moment and turns to look at Wen Qing over his shoulder. Lan Xichen can’t see his brother’s expression in the dark and half-turned away like he is, but something about it stops even the fearsome Wen Qing in her tracks, her hands raised in conciliation or surrender.

“Do not,” he snaps, a rumbling censure with the entire force of his unshakeable conviction behind it. “He is only Xichen. Human.”

The Twin Jades. Light-Bearer and Life-Bringer, larger than life, utterly unreachable. Distant. Aloof from the world, from emotion, from the difficulties of mortality. Meant to guide others — all of humanity — along the path to peace and righteousness whenever and wherever possible.

Lan Xichen has never felt further from the man his unasked-for title proclaims him to be. It’s a relief and an embarrassment in equal measure that his brother knows this without needing to be told.

“Xichen,” Wen Qing agrees, some of the brusqueness in her voice slipping away as her hands drop down to her sides again. “A-Ning was worried for you, Xichen. You’re very close to neural overload, I have some things to help.”

“He was not in the fight,” Lan Wangji protests, protective. He pulls away from where he still has an arm wrapped around Lan Xichen’s shoulder in order to place himself fully between Wen Qing and Lan Xichen. He’s never wanted his brother to feel the need to protect him, but if he must then Lan Xichen will guiltily cherish the feeling of being taken care of, even as it makes him feel weak and helpless in a way that really just feels like failure.

“You and I both know that a pilot does not need to be in a Jaeger to lose themselves.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t have the focus necessary to understand the significance of the moment that passes between them then, but whatever it is they both know that he doesn’t is enough incentive to coax Lan Wangji into shifting aside enough to allow Wen Qing to kneel in front of him.

“Xichen,” Wen Qing says quietly, and this time there’s no business-like professionalism in her wide, dark eyes at all. There’s only kindness, and he aches to lean into it like a flower follows the sun. “I understand why you feel this way, and I understand that it’s unlikely to change at my say-so. But you do not have to be perfect, and I promise you that the people you wish to be perfect for would never wish to see you kill yourself attempting to do so. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

Xichen’s breath hitches in his chest as he battles with the shame of needing to be told something he has never once hesitated to offer to others. Others are allowed to be weak. Others are allowed to need his help, others are allowed to break. Never him. He doesn’t argue with Wen Qing, though. He’s never once questioned corrections to his behavior, and so he nods and it turns into a stiff, tiny bow, just the dip of his head and shoulders as his hands curl into fists on top of his thighs. 

Wen Qing watches him for another long moment before she sighs and seems to resign herself to the fact that he isn’t capable of obeying the half-spoken order to let himself relax right this moment. He struggles not to fold and break under another failure as she turns her attention to reaching into the kit strapped to her hip as Wen Ning’s had been, though he knows hers doesn’t only contain the standard issue first aid supplies.

“Even outside of the Drift, pilots are more prone to neural overload than anyone else in the world,” she says as she withdraws a syringe full of something viscous and electric blue in the light seeping in through the open door behind her. She holds it up above eye level to let the light shine through it, and whatever she finds (or doesn’t) seems to satisfy her as she pulls a disposable needle from the medkit next, her hands sure and steady as she rips open the package and starts to assemble the dose. “Each time we Drift, we weaken ourselves to each other, and though we’re stronger for our ability to connect as we do, we also gradually become so dependent on each other that to exist separately is..taxing.”

Lan Xichen tries to keep up with the thread of her speech with his fracturing attention. Lan Wangji moves to kneel beside him, his perfect mirror save for the way his brother slides a warm, heavy arm around his shoulders, grounding and steady just like Wangji himself.

“Your Drift with Chifeng-zun and Lianfang-zun is still young, and you don’t have the benefit of regular training or drops to keep your pathways aligned and strengthened by each other. It may seem counter to how you started, but you each grow weaker the longer you go without connecting in the Drift. Do you hear me, Xichen? This shot is a temporary fix — when you’re all three recovered, I’m prescribing you sessions in the Drift simulator. You do not have a choice if you want to survive this war.”

“I understand,” Xichen tells her, because that, at least, he understands. Without his Drifts with Lan Wangji, and with all of the stresses and other demands on his partners’ time, time in the simulator seemed…selfish to ask for, particularly when they’re all so keen on other, more accessible ways of being intimate together to make up for the fact that they can’t be flight partners as the other Drift pairs are. It makes sense that the yawning ache in the back of his mind, in the depths of his being, is actually something medically diagnosable; it certainly feels like it should be.

“I’m going to give you this stabilizer, you’re going to sleep in that ridiculous bed over there, and when you wake up you and your partners will get the clusterfuck that is this Shatterdome under control. When you’ve finished that, all three of you will report to medbay as my patients until I give you clearance to look after yourselves. Repeat it.”

Xichen sucks in another too-unsteady breath and focuses on the weight around his shoulders, the steely glint of determination in Wen Qing’s glare.

“I will receive a neural stabilizer for a temporary solution, which must then be slept off. When I wake, Mingjue, A-Yao, and I will address the immediately pressing issues within the ‘dome that cannot be delegated or delayed. We will then put ourselves in your care until you decide we may leave it again.”

Wen Qing, apparently mollified, only leans forward and Wangji’s arm around his shoulders turns restraining as there’s a pinch just beside the nape of his neck, and the uniquely uncomfortable sensation of far more fluid under his skin than there should be. Within moments there’s a soft aura around the edges of his vision, and his head feels too thick to string two thoughts together.

Even as his consciousness slips away, Lan Xichen knows his muscles remember the proper way to sit. He kneels upright as the world slips away from him, and only as he’s sliding fully under does he feel himself sag sideways to land against his brother’s chest, dragged there by the grip around his shoulders as much as his relaxing muscles.

“He’ll be alright, Wangji, I promise,” is the last thing he hears before he slips into soothing nothingness and has no choice but to trust that there are people to care for him as he lets go.

–//–

“How long will the build take?”

Lan Xichen stirs a little at the sound of Nie Mingjue’s voice, pitched low but thankfully not nearly as rough as the last time he’d heard his partner speak. He can’t hear whatever response he receives, but Nie Mingjue grunts his acknowledgement of whatever was said; he must be on his rarely-touched cellphone, a necessary evil if he must run the ‘dome from enforced bedrest.

“Xichen and A-Yao are still down for the count, I can’t check with them. But it’s better than what we’d hoped for anyway, so I don’t think they’ll say no — get him on it as soon as possible. What have we said to the press?”

Another response, an unheard half of the conversation. Xichen blinks his eyes open slowly, keeping them mostly close to ensure the feather of his lashes softens any lights that may hurt his head. The lights are dimmed though, the directionless yellow glow of the track lighting in the ceiling turned as low as it can possibly go. It’s comfortable enough, and it means that when Lan Xichen focuses more on his immediate surroundings the first thing he sees is Jin Guangyao’s face, soft and smooth in deep sleep. He brings one clumsy hand up to press the backs of his fingers against Jin Guangyao’s cheek; his partner doesn’t so much as twitch, not even a flutter of his lashes, but a finger held carefully under his nose reassures Lan Xichen that he is, at least, still breathing. That’s reassuring enough for now.

Nie Mingjue grunts another wordless acknowledgement — surprisingly neutral, as he nearly never is when dealing with the press.

“Could be worse. Hold them off a little longer, will you? I know people are panicking but..I can’t…without them, I —”

Xichen reaches across Jin Guangyao between them to feel blindly for the nearest part of Nie Mingjue he can find. His fingers close around the hard curve of his knee where he’s sat up in bed, legs folded tailor-style, and the second he makes contact his partner’s hand lands heavy and warm on top of his to hold him there.

“Xichen’s awake, I have to go. I’ll call you back in an hour.”

Xichen turns his head enough to squint up at Nie Mingjue as his partner clicks something on his phone and tosses it away in favor of leaning down to press lingering kisses to his temple.

“How long —” Lan Xichen coughs around a painfully dry throat. Nie Mingjue kisses him again before he sits up to reach for his canteen with his free hand and unscrews the cap with a deft flick of his fingers.

“Just a few hours, don’t worry,” he says. Lan Xichen picks his head up enough to let his partner trickle a thin stream of blessedly cool water past his lips. “Zixuan and Yanli have woken up. They’re pretty disoriented and Wen Qing has already declared them permanently unfit for active flight duty, which we all figured. But they’ll live so it’s up to them what they want to do next. Wangji and Wuxian are resting, my orders. Zonghui and Huaisang are holding off the press as best as they can until we can draft up a statement about…whatever the fuck we’re going to do next.”

Xichen hums and squeezes Nie Mingjue’s knee, presses a kiss to Jin Guangyao’s warm forehead. He takes the moment to appreciate how perfectly smooth it is in sleep as it never really is when he’s awake, when his brow is nearly always furrowed in concentration.

“What is it A-Yao and I need to know about?” he asks, curious despite the heaviness still clinging at the edges of his mind (the aftereffects of the medicine Wen Qing had given him, he’s sure).

Nie Mingjue clears his throat and lifts Lan Xichen’s hand from his knee to press lingering, near-worshipful kisses to his knuckles.

“I want Wei Wuxian to convert Sparks into a three-man Jaeger…For us.”

The first thought that Lan Xichen can’t help but think is that that will go down like a lead balloon. Jin Guangshan would never allow —

Well. What Jin Guangshan would or would not allow doesn’t matter at all anymore, does it?

The second thought that follows on its heels is that it is, of course, the most logical solution to their conundrum. Sparks Amidst Snow is a brand new, top of the line Jaeger, already kitted out with as many weapons and mobility modifications as can be reasonably fit into (or onto) a single piece of machinery while retaining its efficiency. The unique shape of Lotus Spider was a choice the Jiang siblings all made together to accommodate the uniqueness of their fighting styles, three distinctly different pilots sharing a single form that can rotate and adjust to whichever of the three is in control at any given time. A three-man Jaeger doesn’t have to be built like that, it doesn’t have to move like Lotus Spider does. A three-man Jaeger can simply be the same machines that they’ve all been piloting since the beginning of this war. There’s no reason they shouldn’t use Sparks Amidst Snow — now completely pilotless — to solve a logistical problem so neatly.

What he says is, “Oh. She’ll need repainting.”

Nie Mingjue laughs, sudden and unexpected, and Lan Xichen smiles sleepily as his partner leans over their boyfriend again to kiss his temple and his cheek in a quick flurry of desperate, scratchy little pecks.

“I love you,” Nie Mingjue murmurs against his skin. “You scared the shit out of me, A-Huan. I’m sorry I scared you first.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes again and hums, apology and forgiveness in one (not that Nie Mingjue had needed to ask his forgiveness anyway).

“Now that I’m awake we need only worry about A-Yao together.”

Nie Mingjue pulls back to blow out a gusty sigh and slide gingerly down to lie flat, his arm joining Lan Xichen’s slung over Jin Guangyao’s waist, their hands resting on opposite hips to hold him evenly between them.

“Wen-daifu took a look at him after she knocked you out, said he’s pretty fried. He’ll be fine!” Nie Mingjue hurries to reassure; Lan Xichen assumes his expression twisted with a suitable amount of alarm for the situation. “He just needs to sleep like Qionglin said, we all do. If A-Sang hadn’t come and found us I would have lost it, you came extremely close to losing it, and A-Yao shut down instead of losing it. It’s exactly what Wen Qing told you — we opened ourselves up to the Drift but we haven’t strengthened our connection at all since then. We’re much weaker apart than we are together, we have to start acting like it.”

“Darling, I already might as well live in your pocket,” Lan Xichen sighs. Nie Mingjue snorts and glances down at Jin Guangyao with a little smile.

“Well you and A-Yao can live in my pockets if you want but it’s not my brain, and apparently that’s where I need you to be.”

Lan Xichen hums again with a smile he hides in Jin Guangyao’s hair. It slips off his lips again quickly though as he thinks about what they’ll have to accomplish before they can begin their prescribed Drift sessions.

“Oh gods..the press, Mingjue. What on earth are we going to tell the press? What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to come clean. About all of it.”

Lan Xichen looks up at his partner with wide eyes — the truth is..not very pretty, nor flattering or reassuring, he has to say, so long as Nie Mingjue means what he thinks he does. Dealing with the public is an exercise in extremely careful half-truths that help to quell panic rather than incite it. They play a delicate balancing act, every single Shatterdome does, even Wen Ruohan in Tokyo. If he told the general population about the majority of the experiments he conducts, or the way he was burning (probably still is burning) all of his pilots to the ground as quickly as humanly possible to achieve the record-breaking stats his program boasts then there would be repercussions. Even someone as callous as Wen Ruohan knows the value in being circumspect when public opinion is in question.

Nie Mingjue, his beloved straightforward and honest-to-a-fault Mingjue, doesn’t have…quite the same sense of self-preservation when he elects to speak his mind.

“We don’t have to,” Lan Xichen whispers and nearly feels Lan Qiren’s reproving glare all the way from Gusu for daring to imply that the unvarnished truth is anything less than the best possible path forward. It goes against every single one of his childhood lessons, it goes against the typical true north of his own moral compass — but he also can’t bear the thought of Shanghai being thrown into even more chaos now on the heels of such an alarming battle as the one they’ve just fought. They have rebuilding to do, injuries to treat, there isn’t time for the leadership and ethics of the Shatterdome that keeps tens of millions of people safe to be called into question. Nie Mingjue is already tied up nearly every hour of the day in meetings to discuss strategy, provisions, research, everything of import with the leaders of every numerous government and military agency responsible for monitoring their operation. He won’t have time for even more such meetings, or to stop them altogether in favor of damage control with the public, and they have a war to fight —

There just isn’t time —

“Whoa. A-Huan, breathe. Don’t make me get Wen-daifu back in here to knock you out again.”

Lan Xichen sucks in a deep breath he hadn’t realized he needed and his vision clears of a handful of little black spots that he blinks away a few times quickly for good measure.

“What the hell just happened?” Nie Mingjue demands, and only because Lan Xichen knows him so well does he hear the concern in what could so easily be read as anger.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps instead of answering and closes his eyes as Nie Mingjue leans over Jin Guangyao again to kiss his forehead. “Such transparency simply seems like a recipe for disaster.”

“So does continuing to lie,” Nie Mingjue shrugs, though the tension in his clenched jaw belies his nerves. “At least if we tell them and I wind up forced to resign then..well. We can figure it out. I don’t think I will, though. I’m not saying it’ll be easy but it’ll be..better.”

It’s painfully clear that Nie Mingjue has already made up his mind, and Lan Xichen knows better than almost anyone that once he has there’s really no changing it. The best option now is simply to hold on tightly and hope for the best but prepare for the worst, and know that in the end he’ll still have his family and the men he loves.

Nie Mingjue kisses him again, a consolation, and when he tells him to trust him and just go back to sleep to keep recovering, there’s really no better option except to do as he’s told and let the future sort itself out.

–//–

Shanghai is never so quiet.

The wind whistles through the rubble of buildings not yet cleared away after the latest battle. The lonesome cries of the first few seabirds brave enough to return to a place that still reeks of Kaiju viscera echo strangely through the too-open crowded space.

The sounds of construction a few blocks closer to the harbor have ceased, and the crowd waiting beneath the hastily-erected podium in the midst of all of the destruction is eerily still and silent. Lan Xichen would have expected them to be clamoring for information, reporters and civilians alike shouting their questions over each other, trying to get their own answers first and damn anyone else.

He hadn’t expected this…this silent vigil, this watchful waiting that puts his hackles up and makes his skin crawl with the desire to stride up to the microphone and say something — anything — that would slice through the tension. How desperately he wants to say whatever would pacify the masses gathered to hear this first official address from the Shanghai Shatterdome on the shocking events of the last battle that are, by now, common knowledge nearly everywhere in the world. 

The basic facts as everyone knows them are thus:

Category 5 Kaiju have arrived.

Jin Guangshan is dead.

Jin Zixuan flew with Jiang Yanli, and they barely survived.

Shanghai has something — many things, important things — that they haven’t disclosed.

A rustling behind Lan Xichen creates an echo of the same in the gathered crowd, a great fluttering of overcoats in the wind, an uneasy shuffling of feet, and a swelling susurrus of whispers as weary footsteps thud on the stairs up to the platform on which Shanghai Shatterdome’s remaining active-duty pilots and (most of the) high-ranking members of staff are already assembled.

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and finds steady comfort in his brother standing at his right hand with Jin Guangyao at his left as, a few paces away at the center of the stage, Jin Zixuan makes his slow, careful way through their ranks to step up to the microphone.

Jin Zixuan clears his throat and visibly squares his shoulders before he leans in ever so slightly to begin.

“First and foremost, the leadership, the pilots, and all ground crew of the Shanghai Shatterdome wish to extend a heartfelt apology to the citizens of Shanghai for the losses of the last battle. You have our every sympathy. Please know that we are working tirelessly to deliver every reparation possible to everyone who suffered damages or loss as quickly as we can.” Jin Zixuan’s amplified voice rings through the silence from speakers haphazardly placed amongst the rubble; all it does is emphasize how worn out he still sounds even a full week after waking in the bittersweet aftermath of his victory.

“Secondly, we would like to thank the citizens of Shanghai and beyond for extending their condolences for the loss of my father and my cousin, and their well-wishes for mine and Pilot Jiang Yanli’s swift recoveries from our injuries.

“There have been many questions since the battle against this latest Kaiju, and many more rumors. We thank you for your patience as we decided on the best course of action to communicate with you going forward, and today we hope that our attempts to do so will be well-received.”

From his spot in the front row just behind the podium, Lan Xichen studies the faces of those closest to the stage and, for perhaps the first time in his life, isn’t entirely sure how to interpret what he finds. He can only hope that Shanghai’s loyalty to their Pilots and their ‘dome will carry them through learning exactly what’s been going on behind closed doors.

“That being said, the first order of business is to announce that I will no longer be serving you as a Pilot in active duty. The injuries I sustained a week ago are too deep to allow me to continue to fly, as are my..my wife’s —” There is a bit of a stir amongst the crowd at that, though it’s much more muted than the reaction of the shatterdome to the same news two days prior. (Jin Zixuan had gotten onto the loudspeakers mere moments after their union was made binding and announced to the entire population of the ‘dome that he and Jiang Yanli had been married under Nie Mingjue’s authority. The [good-natured] uproar throughout the ‘dome had been a sight to see.)

“My former co-pilot has died, while my current co-pilot and I are too injured to serve you in the capacity that we would otherwise wish to. In light of this, I will put aside my armor and my status as a Pilot to take my late father’s place as one of the leaders of Shanghai Shatterdome. I hope you will find me to be an adequate successor.”

Jin Zixuan allows that statement to hang just long enough for a fresh round of whispers — he’d said ‘one of’, after all, and until now no one has known that Shanghai even had more than one. Before the whispers can grow out of hand, though, there comes the telltale heavy thump of footsteps Lan Xichen would recognize anywhere, behind him and to the left as Jin Zixuan’s had been. With an effort, Lan Xichen forces himself not to turn to look at his partner as he makes his own careful way up to the platform.

“This brings me to a second matter of great importance that must be cleared up before any further announcements are made. My father was not, as we claimed, the sole leader of this Shatterdome. He was, in fact, little more than a figurehead for the press and a financial backer to the true martial leader of Shanghai, who has been content — until now — to let his work remain unacknowledged.

“I hope that you all remember the tireless efforts and sacrifices of the Mach 1 pilot Chifeng-Zun, Nie Mingjue —” Jin Zixuan pauses as a gasp, amplified by every mouth, hisses through the crowd. In the expectant hush that follows it, Nie Mingjue’s footsteps on the rickety metal platform sound like the steady pounding of a drum, inexorable as he approaches the podium and appearing to be every inch the soldier he’s always been. Lan Xichen curls his fingers tightly around Jin Guangyao’s when they slip into his palm, the pair of them squeezing each other’s hands tightly enough that Lan Xichen is sure their knuckles are white.

“Nie Mingjue has devoted his life to the protection of Shanghai in the years since his retirement from active duty, and we believed it was time you knew exactly to whom you should continue to look for guidance in the future.”

Jin Zixuan steps aside after accepting a (relatively) gentle shoulder clap from Nie Mingjue that seems to take genuine effort to remain standing upright through. Mo Xuanyu hurries forward to support Jin Zixuan as he steps away from the microphone, and Lan Xichen tries his hardest not to panic at the thought of all of the civilians watching this seeing how weakened he still is.

The uncertain muttering of the audience cuts off abruptly into a reverent hush as Nie Mingjue clears his throat in preparation to speak.

For an endless moment, the world is still and silent again. For the first time in half a decade, Nie Mingjue stands straight and proud at the head of the people who live or die at his word and in front of the people they all live or die for in return.

Nie Mingjue lets the silence linger just long enough to become uncomfortable before he curls his broad hands around the side of the podium and leans forward, closer to the microphone.

“Citizens of Shanghai,” he begins, his words falling like stones into the collective hush. “I won’t insult you by pretending that you don’t have a reason to doubt us. I won’t pretend that everything that has ever happened under our roof has been honest, or fair, or even good. I won’t pretend that I’m perfect, or that anyone in my employ is either. Of course you have reason to doubt us.

“But I will tell you this — your safety and the safety of your friends, your families, anyone you know and everyone you don’t, has been my highest priority since the day I was able to once again take up the work my father and I started out to do. I have never truly retired, or forgotten my responsibility to you.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and forces himself to just hold Jin Guangyao’s hand rather than clutch at it like a lifeline. Jin Guangyao rubs a few slow little circles into the back of his palm in silent understanding; they’d both helped Nie Mingjue write this speech, and every single soul in the shatterdome who relies on Nie Mingjue is crucially invested in seeing this press conference turn the tide of public opinion back in their favor after the speculations and fear of the past week. Everyone is waiting on pins and needles to see how this will be received.

Nie Mingjue clears his throat again into the silence.

A lone gull cries overhead, sudden and piercing.

“We’ll be releasing an in-depth statement to the press shortly, but for now, in the interest of transparency, I will tell you what you may already suspect. You now know that Jin Zixuan successfully operated Sparks Amidst Snow with Jiang Yanli — as has already become clear to you, this means that things are changing. The Kaiju are coming faster, and they’re getting bigger, smarter. You’ve seen these changes for yourselves, and you must understand that the way we do battle has to change along with our foe. To that end, we have —”

Lan Xichen’s attempt to not crush his boyfriend’s fingers turns out to have been in vain as Nie Mingjue stops with an irritated sigh that the microphone picks up and amplifies for everyone in attendance to hear.

“Oh fuck this,” Nie Mingjue mutters and Lan Xichen’s heart drops as he glances down at Jin Guangyao to find him already covering his eyes with his free hand, his fakest, most placating smile frozen in place beneath it. Nie Mingjue had promised to let them help him come up with the right things to say if he was going to insist on airing out the ‘dome’s dirty laundry for everyone in Shanghai to see, but they’d known asking him to deliver a lengthy speech that attempts to soften at least some of the blows would be…a tall order. Still, there were at least hopes that he would make it through most of their points before he gave up.

“For god’s sake, he didn’t even make it five minutes,” Jin Guangyao laments, long-suffering but not sounding at all surprised as Nie Mingjue goes so far as to chuck the tablet with his carefully-written speech off the podium so he can’t even see it, the device clunking and clattering against the metal stage to stop at Jin Zixuan’s feet.

Lan Xichen unbends his rigorous posture enough to lean down and put his lips close to Jin Guangyao’s ear to prevent them being read as he says, “We should punish him quite thoroughly for breaking his promise this evening,” and earn himself a playful slap to the hip, below where the cameras are pointed.

“The point is that we’ve shuffled up the pilot teams as an experiment and it was successful, so we’re going to keep doing it,” Nie Mingjue says, short and brusquely efficient in his usual way. “We’re redesigning the jaegers, upgrading weapons, outfitting the old mechs for new teams. We know why we’re facing increased Kaiju attacks but it’s too late to stop it — the damage is done so our job now is to stop it from getting any worse. In his time as the head of this ‘dome, Jin Guangshan funded our operation with black market money and colluded with criminals of all sorts to keep fattening his wallet – I don’t doubt he’s paid plenty of people to keep their mouths shut about it. But I don’t care if they come forward now, I don’t care what anyone says anymore, I only care about what I always have. I care about ending this goddamn war!”

Lan Xichen takes a half-step forward (to restrain his partner or comfort him as he gets more worked up he doesn’t know), but before he can step out of line the silence erupts, the buildings and rubble echoing not with the condemning cry of the crows and gulls but with shouting, cheering, with the rumbling roar of enthusiastic support Lan Xichen would never have expected from a city full of people who’ve just been told they’ve been consistently and comprehensively lied to by the very people they’ve trusted to keep them safe for so long.

“Let it never be said that da-ge isn’t charismatic enough to accomplish feats we mere mortals may only dream of,” Jin Guangyao drawls, dry as a bone, and Lan Xichen finds that all he can do is laugh rather helplessly. He watches in awe as the crowd picks up a chant, not of Nie Mingjue’s name (that would really just be too much), but a much more palatable and generic cry of ‘End the war! End the war!’ that follows them all the way off the platform and through the city as they traipse the few blocks between the wreckage and the phalanx of armored cars waiting to hurry them all back to the shatterdome.

“Don’t start, I already know,” Nie Mingjue says the moment they’re in their own car, Lan Xichen behind the wheel to leave Jin Guangyao free to begin their scolding as soon as possible.

“ONE speech Mingjue!!!” Jin Guangyao cries the second he’s slammed his door shut. “You just had to give one speech!!”

“It was going to be an hour long, minimum!!” Nie Mingjue retorts. “When I said you could write it I didn’t say you could write me a goddamn novel!”

Lan Xichen clicks the blinker on to pull into the middle of the formation and waves genially to Wei Wuxian in the passenger seat of another SUV beside them, Lan Wangji looking entirely at ease behind the wheel and Jiang Wanyin squeezed between the Wen siblings in the backseat.

“I hate you. I’m going to strangle you,” Jin Guangyao announces to the car at large rather matter-of-factly. Lan Xichen sighs as his boyfriend climbs into their partner’s lap to curl his hands around his neck.

“A-Yao darling, save the foreplay for our quarters,” he says over his shoulder, and at least Nie Mingjue snorts a laugh so he must not be getting choked out too hard.

Lan Xichen does his best to ignore their roughhousing that seems to be equal parts genuine frustration with each other and foreplay (of a particular sort that he can admit he doesn’t enjoy nearly as much as they do) and focuses instead on getting them safely through the city so they can back to their jobs. Jin Guangyao will have more to do with the press over the next few days, especially since Nie Mingjue…didn’t actually say anything they’d really planned to take to the public, but perhaps that’s for the best. For now, at least, the public has been addressed, cleanup has begun with a coordinated effort between extra engineers from the ‘dome and the various disaster relief groups in the city, and they can relax for a day or two as everyone recuperates properly and returns to business as usual, as much as they can with a leadership change and a major restructuring of the Pilot assignments.

“Oh my god,” Lan Xichen murmurs as he pulls to a stop at the end of the same courtyard where he and his fellow pilots from Tokyo had been greeted upon arriving in Shanghai.

Much like that day, the press are crowded close to the barriers demarcating the boundary of the shatterdome’s grounds, snapping photos of the returning crew and shouting out questions that will go unanswered. Also in attendance is someone waiting beneath the eaves of the first warehouse’s roof to receive them, but considering Jin Guangyao is currently being crushed under Nie Mingjue’s weight to prevent him from getting too bitey, the welcoming party is…a little different than when Lan Xichen had stepped foot in Shanghai.

“What? What’s wrong?” Nie Mingjue asks over Jin Guangyao’s muffled shouts of, “You fucking lug get off of me!!”

Lan Xichen doesn’t answer, afraid if he doesn’t move quickly they’ll get away, slip off into the crowd to never be seen again. He pops open his door and leaps smoothly down to the ground to stride across the no-man’s land, the shouting of the press hemming him in on every side, though he does his best to ignore it.

“Zewu-Jun. I believe we have some unfinished business.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and takes note of the restraining grip Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen have on Xue Yang’s wrists caught between them, though he doesn’t really look capable of escape at the moment. Behind their shoulders is a girl blowing a neon yellow chewing gum bubble between her chomping on it, regarding him with wary suspicion that he must admit he shares — she’s young but she looks sharp in the way of anyone who’s had to fight every single day simply to survive, and if she’s here with the Immortals and Xue Yang there’s no telling which of them she’s more like in the end.

From behind him, Lan Xichen hears several car doors open and slam shut again, the scuffle of boots on the pavement as their entourage joins them with an uneasy murmur for their unexpected guests.

“Yes,” he tells Xiao Xingchen with a gesture for them to head inside ahead of him. “I believe we do.”

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #pacific rim au #background xuanli #background/implied songxuexiao #Lan Xichen #Jin Guangyao #Nie Mingjue #Wen Ning #Wen Qing

[silverysnake]

Ich denke da jetzt schon den ganzen tag drüber nach und musste bei der Arbeit mal kurz ins Lager verschwinden damit ich nicht für andere sichtbar durchdrehe. Ist irgendwie ne Weiterführung von diesem Post, aber Kurzfassung ist das Leo Adam immer hinterherläuft, wie zum Beispiel nach dem Streit auf der Brücke in KdE. Und im Krankenhaus läuft Leo Adam dann plötzlich nicht mehr nach und bricht deren Muster auf.

In Fluch des Geldes ist das Muster irgendwie...umgedreht? Hört mir zu, das macht Sinn.

Wir starten am See, Leo konfrontiert Adam, erstmal alles so wie immer, der Anfang des Musters. Dieses Mal bricht wieder Leo es auf, so wie im Krankenhaus auch als er Adam nciht nachläuft. Aber dieses Mal bricht er es auf indem er selbst geht bevor Adam die Chance dazu hat es zu tun. Und wie schon im Krankenhaus folgen sie nicht weiter ihrem Muster, denn obwohl es jetzt umgedreht ist läuft Adam Leo nicht nach, er lässt ihn einfach gehen. Aber Leo lässt Adam das Auto da, vielleicht in der Hoffnung das Adam ihm hinterherfährt, vielleicht einfach weil es ja Adams Auto ist (glaube ich).

Dann vorm Bunker, als Leo das Geld hoch. Dieses Mal ist es komplett umgedreht, Adam konfrontiert Leo was er mit dem Geld vorhat, Leo weicht aus. Eine genaue Spiegelung von der Brücke, wo Leo Adam wegen dem Geld konfrontiert und dieser ausweicht. Und dieses Mal geht wieder Leo und Ada,m folgt dem altbekannt Muster, ist dieses Mal der der Leo hinterher rennt. Des Spieß ist vollständig umgedreht.

So geht es die ganze Folge weiter. Vorher war es immer Leo der Adam nachgelaufen ist, vielleicht sogar aus Angst das Adam wieder abhaut und einfach nie wiederkommt wenn er ihn gehenlässt. In Fluch des Geldes ist es genau andersherum, Leo geht und Adam läuft ihm nach, jedes einzelne Mal. Auch wenn Leo ihn davon abhalten will. Vielleicht weil diesmal Adam Angst hat das er Leo verliert. Klar, Leo läuft jetzt nicht so starke Gefahr einfach die Stadt zu verlassen, aber das ist ja nicht die einzige Weise jemanden zu verlieren.

#tatort saarbrücken #spatort #fluch des geldes #fdg #adam schürk #leo hölzer #ich kann halt nichtmal sagen ob das absicht ist oder nicht #aber seitdem mir diese parallele aufgefallen ist geht es mir nicht mehr aus dem kopf #besonders weil es eben so aus kde weitergeführt wird #ich muss echt nochmal alle teile rewatchen und da drauf achten #weil wenn das die ganze zeit so ist das sie diesem spezifischen muster folgen dann dreh ich durch #und dann muss ich wohl doch große probs an hendrik hölzemann und melanie waelde aussprechen

[apfelhalm]

Die Mitte seiner Welt

Leos Stimme versiegt mitten im Wort. Nicht überrascht, nicht wütend. Sie ist einfach weg, genau wie Leo weg ist, als Adam verwirrt zu ihm aufschaut und nur noch Schwaden aus Staub in der Luft flirren sieht. Mit ein bisschen Fantasie haben sie die Form einer Person. Dann kommt ein Windstoß und trägt sie davon.

Leo verschwindet an diesem Tag, genauso wie Millarden andere.

Oder: Wenn der Thanos-Snap im Spatort-Universum passiert wäre.

@dream-about-dancing hat mir mal wieder Flöhe ins Ohr gesetzt und dann musste das geschrieben werden, weil ich sonst keine Ruhe gehabt hätte.

Er ist dabei, als Leo verschwindet.

Es geht so schnell und gespenstisch leise, dass Adam bis heute manchmal denkt, dass er es sich bloß eingebildet hat. Dass Leo vielleicht einfach ins Auto gestiegen und aus Saarbrücken abgehauen ist, so wie Adam es selbst vor siebzehn Jahren getan hat.

Die Tasche mit dem Geld liegt zwischen ihnen wie eine Anklage, wie ein Manifest all der Dinge, die Adam in den letzten Monaten verbockt hat. Als ob er nicht selbst wüsste, dass er diesmal zu weit gegangen ist. Er wischt sich das Blut vom Kinn und versucht Leos kaltem Blick auszuweichen. Es ist eine Geste, die er die nächsten Jahre bitter bereuen wird.

"Ad …"

Leos Stimme versiegt mitten im Wort. Nicht überrascht, nicht wütend. Sie ist einfach weg, genau wie Leo weg ist, als Adam verwirrt zu ihm aufschaut und nur noch Schwaden aus Staub in der Luft flirren sieht. Mit ein bisschen Fantasie haben sie die Form einer Person. Dann kommt ein Windstoß und trägt sie davon.

Leo verschwindet an diesem Tag, genauso wie Millarden andere.

Und Adam hatte nicht einmal die Eier, ihn noch ein letztes Mal richtig anzusehen.

*

Die ersten Wochen und Monate sind die Hölle. Man sollte meinen, wenn die Menschheit halbiert wird, halbiert sich auch die Menge der Straftaten, aber das Gegenteil ist der Fall. Pia und er werden abgezogen, um an anderen Stellen auszuhelfen, weil die Kollegen in Vermisstenanzeigen, Plünderungsdelikten und Bandenkriegen ertrinken.

Adam vermisst ihre üblichen Fälle, vermisst die Kriminalarbeit, vermisst ihr Team, vermisst sogar Esther fucking Baumann. Die hat sich nämlich auch in Staub aufgelöst. Er hätte nie gedacht, dass ihm die giftigen Kommentare und die Kabbeleien einmal fehlen würden, aber so sieht's aus. Pia wird ein Schatten ihrer selbst, gibt zu viel und noch viel mehr, um Leuten bei der Suche nach ihren Angehörigen zu helfen. (So wie Leo es getan hätte.)

Adam hat dafür keine Kraft und keine Geduld. Er will den Leuten ins Gesicht schreien, will ihnen sagen, dass ihre Familie und Freunde nicht irgendwo da draußen auf sie warten. Weil sie weg sind, so wie alle weg sind: seine Mutter, Pias Eltern und große Schwester, Esther, Caro. Und Leo.

Leo, dessen Mittelpunkt der Welt er mal war.

("Deiner Welt vielleicht", hat er gesagt. Weil er Leo auf Abstand halten wollte. Ihn beschützen wollte.

Hat ja gut funktioniert.)

*

Die einzig gute Sache: Nachdem die Hälfte der Menschheit verschwunden ist, behelligt niemand mehr Adam wegen des Geldes. Boris war einer der vielen, die sich aufgelöst haben und auf einmal scheint sich - Wunder über Wunder - keiner mehr für die Beute zu interessieren.

Adam ist versucht die Tasche zu verbrennen oder im Wald in eine Grube zu werfen, aber das ist ihm den Aufwand nicht wert. Also lässt er sie in der Garage des Bunkers liegen. Wer auch immer sich die Mühe macht dort plündern zu gehen, hat es vielleicht verdient eine Million Euro zu finden.

Als er die Griffe der Tasche aus seinen Finger rutschen lässt und sie unspektakulär zu Boden plumpst, fühlt es sich an, als fielen Hunderte Backsteine von seiner Brust. Das letzte Stück seiner Vergangenheit, das ihn noch zurückgehalten hat. Es gibt nichts, was ihn jetzt noch hier hält. Nichts. Bis auf eine Sache:

Was, wenn Leo wiederkommt?

Adam ist ein Realist. Böse Zungen mögen sogar behaupten ein Zyniker. Die Menschen, die der Snap ihnen genommen hat? Die sind vermutlich alle tot. Für immer. Doch dieser eine Gedanke frisst sich trotzdem in sein Herz und lähmt ihn vor Angst:

Was, wenn er wieder auftaucht und ich bin nicht da?

Er fragt sich, ob es Leo auch so ergangen ist in den fünfzehn Jahren nach dem Garagenvorfall. Ob er Leo unwissentlich an Saarbrücken gekettet hat, weil ein kleiner Teil von ihm noch immer Hoffnung hatte. Ob er Leo davon abgehalten hat, die Welt zu sehen oder zumindest mal richtig in ihr zu leben.

("Deiner Welt vielleicht", hat er gesagt, wie das fucking Arschloch, das er ist. Dabei war er es doch, der sich da hingedrängt hat.)

*

Adam zieht bei Leo ein.

Er sagt sich, dass es Bullshit wäre, eine gute Stadtwohnung leerstehen zu lassen, die früher einmal heißbegehrt gewesen wäre. Dass er nicht mehr im Bunker leben will und es besser als das Hotel ist. Dass Leo es vermutlich auch so gewollt hätte. (Vorher zumindest. Vor "Deiner Welt vielleicht".) Als er es Pia erzählt, guckt sie ihn einfach nur an und sagt dazu gar nichts. Ist vielleicht auch besser so.

Der Umzug ist an einem Vormittag beendet. Er bringt kaum etwas mit, weder Couch noch sonstige Möbel. Es ist ja alles da, also warum sollte er das ändern? Seine Kleidung hängt er an eine Kleiderstange, weil er Schränke ohnehin nicht mag. Leos Zahnbürste stellt er in den Spiegelschrank, ein Aschenbecher wandert auf den Balkon. Mehr braucht er nicht, mehr will er nicht. Nur die Essensvorräte braucht er nach und nach auf, damit sie nicht schlecht werden und weil er weiß, dass Leo das gehasst hätte.

Er weiß, wie das alles aussieht: wie ein Mann, der als Gast in einer Wohnung lebt. Als ob er Housesitting betreibt. Als ob er wartet. Und vielleicht tut er das auch, aber das geht niemanden etwas an. Und wenn er manchmal vor Leos Bücherregal stehen bleibt oder seine Shirts im Schrank anfässt oder die Familienbilder nicht abhängt, dann geht das ebenfalls niemanden was an.

Er hat sich zur Mitte von Leos Welt gemacht und da wird er verdammt nochmal bleiben. Auch wenn es diese Welt nicht mehr gibt, auch wenn er jetzt nur noch zwischen ihren Trümmern sitzt.

*

"Du hast es ja eilig", sagt er süffisant und sieht dabei zu, wie Pia systematisch ihre Sachen zusammenkramt.

"Ja, ich hab heute Gruppenabend."

"Du meinst die Selbsthilfegruppe?"

"Ja. Magst du mitkommen?" fragt sie betont beiläufig, während sie ihr Handy und ihren Schal in ihre Umhängetasche packt.

Adam schnaubt. "Ganz sicher nicht."

Es ist nicht das erste Mal, dass sie ihn fragt, und es ist nicht das erste Mal, dass er "Nein" sagt. Sie versucht es trotzdem immer wieder, in ihrer beharrlichen, sanften Pia-Art. Manchmal wünscht er sich etwas weniger Verständnis und Eierschalen und etwas mehr Feuer. Es ist ein böser Gedanke - einer den er niemals laut aussprechen würde-, aber mit Esther hätte er sich zumindest ordentlich zoffen können.

Nicht, dass er sich Pia wegwünschen würde. (Wenn er sich irgendwen wegwünscht, dann sich selbst. Im Tausch gegen Leo.) Pia ist in Ordnung. Aber sie ist still geworden über die letzten Jahre. Ein Großteil ihrer Familie hat den Snap nicht überstanden und Esther … sie vermisst Esther. Mehr, als sie zugeben will. Dabei würde ihr etwas Wut ganz guttun. Stattdessen setzt sie sich mit wildfremden Menschen zusammen und redet über ihre Gefühle. Adam kann sich keine schlimmere Abendbeschäftigung vorstellen. Das sagt er ihr auch so.

"Besser als alle paar Tage zur Völklinger Hütte zu fahren, ist es allemal", sagt sie leise, macht den Reißverschluss der Tasche zu und sieht ihn mit großen, mitleidigen Augen an. Adam zieht die Schultern hoch.

"Fresse, Heinrich", sagt er, aber es ist kein Feuer dahinter.

*

Okay. Pia hat Recht: Alle paar Tage zur Völklinger Hütte zu fahren ist vielleicht nicht die beste Bewältigungsstrategie. Aber sie haben alle ihre Methoden mit dieser Scheiße umzugehen und das ist nunmal seine.

Die ersten paar Wochen hat er noch versucht, die Gegend abzusuchen und Hinweise zu finden. Einen Kugelschreiber, das Notizbuch, ein Stück von Leos Hemd, scheiße, vielleicht sogar Haare oder abgetrennte Körperteile. Irgendeinen Beweis dafür, dass Leo hier war und existiert hat.

Inzwischen, Jahre später, hat er das aufgegeben. Sitzt einfach nur auf einer Bank in der Nähe, raucht ein bis zwei Kippen und starrt auf die Stelle, wo er Leo zum letzten Mal gesehen hat. Denkt daran, was er Leo bei ihrem letzten Streit an den Kopf geworfen hat.

"Deiner Welt vielleicht", hört er sich sagen, immer und immer wieder, lässt die Worte durch seine Eingeweide ziehen wie einen heißen Schürhaken.

Er kann sich nicht einmal ausmalen, dass er etwas anders oder besser gemacht haben könnte, um Leo zu retten. Das lag und liegt nicht in seiner Macht. Es gibt keine Realität, in der Leo hätte überleben können. Aber es gibt viele Realitäten, in denen Adam ihn nicht enttäuschen hätte können. In denen er Leo an sich rangelassen hätte und vielleicht einmal ehrlich gewesen wäre. (Gesagt hätte "Lieb mich nicht so sehr, das wird dich ruinieren" oder "Es macht mir Angst, wie du mich manchmal ansiehst" oder "Es macht mir noch mehr Angst, wie ich mich dabei fühle".) Das wäre in seiner Macht gewesen. In Leos Welt. Er hat es nur nicht getan. Adam war und ist ein Arschloch und damit muss er jetzt leben.

Er seufzt und tritt seine Kippe aus, so wie jedes Mal. Fährt nach Hause in Leos Wohnung, schläft in Leos Bett und lebt zwischen Leos Trümmern. Wartet, wartet, wartet auf etwas, das vermutlich nie passieren wird. Es ist das Mindeste, was er tun kann.

Es ist das Einzige, was er noch tun kann.

#tess is kind of writing #tatort #spatort #the MCU crossover no one asked for #you don't need to know anything to understand this #besides the fact that half the world's population got erased in an instant

[eleanorfenyx]

WIP Wednesday Things I'm Working On Thursday

Next little bit of Soldier, Poet, King:

“Mingjue.” Lan Xichen is proud that the fresh fear spiking through him isn’t audible, his voice instead firm, authoritative (he’ll find time later to contemplate how much he sounds like Lan Qiren at his sternest). “Let Qionglin examine you or I will knock you unconscious as well. You’re slipping.”

Nie Mingjue, for the first time since they’d met, looks absolutely livid. With him.

Lan Xichen meets his burning gaze calmly, steadily. It’s who he is. It’s who he always has been.

Calm.

Steady.

Always there to support. To guide. To lead.

What else is there for him to do?

Nie Mingjue bares his teeth at him and clutches Jin Guangyao so tightly Lan Xichen hears his too-relaxed shoulder pop.

“You’re hurting him, Mingjue,” he whispers. “Let me hold him, just long enough for Qionglin to check you over.”

Perhaps no one else would be able to see it (no, Jin Guangyao would be able to as well, if he were awake) but Lan Xichen can see something like sense in the depths of Nie Mingjue’s unfocused glare. He can only imagine what sort of internal battle his lover is fighting, straining back to reality when it would be so easier to let his demons win. Wen Ning is motionless and silent beside them, waiting patiently for Lan Xichen to succeed, as if he can’t imagine that he won’t. Lan Xichen reaches out — slowly, slowly — and covers Nie Mingjue’s hard hands with his own.

Gently.

Nie Mingjue’s fingers twitch under his and Lan Xichen helps him loosen the death grip he has on Jin Guangyao’s arm and thigh.

“It’s alright, ge,” Lan Xichen murmurs. “I’m right here, we’re safe. But I need you to let me have A-Yao, just for a moment.”

Lan Xichen forces himself to stay precisely where he is as he hears the lift clattering up to the top of the comms tower.

“Mingjue, love — please, you have to let go.”

“Da-ge!!”

Lan Xichen watches a bit more light return to Nie Mingjue’s gaze at the sound of Nie Huaisang’s voice and his grip loosens again, ever so slightly. Lan Xichen brushes his thumbs against Nie Mingjue’s knuckles and ducks his head enough to catch his gaze again.

“Mingjue, let me hold A-Yao so Huaisang can help Qionglin look you over.”

“What are you all doing on the floor?” Huaisang asks — too loud, too fast. He swings into the room and barrels straight through the fraught atmosphere to drape himself over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders, arms tight around his brother’s neck so he can burrow into him like a kid getting a piggy-back ride.

“A-Sang?” Nie Mingjue rasps. His arms finally uncurl and Lan Xichen exhales a soft sigh of relief as he carefully transfers Jin Guangyao’s limp, prone form into his own arms, across his own lap, while Nie Huaisang distracts his brother with his chattering about how uncomfortable the bunkers are, how he’s so happy they weren’t in there for too long, how everyone’s settling back in nicely after being let out.

#the untamed fanfic #WIP Wednesday #Soldier Poet King #3zun

[falleraatje]

👀💕

Auf Wunsch ein bisschen Fußballer-Hörk (was schon viel zu lange angefangen bei mir rumliegt 🙈)

Es ist schon längst dunkel draußen, als Adam sich seinem Ziel nähert. Die Straßen sind frei, sodass er Zeit hat, seine Umgebung wahrzunehmen. Die Autobahn ist von Bäumen gesäumt und dank dem dunklen Himmel kommt es ihm vor, als würde er durch den tiefsten Wald fahren.

Es ist, als wäre er in einer ganz anderen Welt gelandet. In seinem Bauch ist das gleiche Ziehen wie früher, wenn sein Vater ihn abgeholt hat, weil er die Sommerferien zuhause verbringen musste. Die sechs Wochen Ferien wirkten auf die anderen immer wie purer Luxus. Alle hatten begeistert davon geredet, was sie alles machen würden in dieser Zeit, während Adam still daneben saß und sich gefragt hat, welche Überraschungen sein Vater sich diesmal wohl für ihn ausgedacht hat.

Er nimmt einen Schluck aus seiner Wasserflasche, aber gegen die aufsteigende Übelkeit hilft das nicht. Inzwischen weiß er nicht einmal mehr, wie er darauf gekommen ist, dass es eine gute Idee sein könnte herzufahren. Er hatte nie vor, je wieder nach Saarbrücken zurückzukehren und auch wenn er diesmal einen guten Grund dazu hat, scheint sein Körper das anders zu sehen und mit jedem weiteren Kilometer mehr dagegen zu rebellieren.

Dabei wartet am Ende der Strecke etwas Schönes auf ihn. Er kommt nicht nach Hause, um dort noch mehr Anstrengungen zu erleben, als er das Jahr über neben Schule, Training und Fußballspielen eh schon hat. Manche andere haben sich beschwert, dass ihnen das alles zu viel wird. Adam konnte darüber nur lachen – das war nichts im Vergleich zu dem, was im Sommer auf ihn warten würde.

Adam zwingt sich, die Hände am Steuer zu lassen. Er kann sich nicht hier mitten auf der Fahrbahn in einem Ball zusammenrollen, um sich vor der Welt zu verstecken. Außerdem fährt er nicht in den grauen Betonklotz, in dem er aufgewachsen ist, sondern in ein großzügiges Neubaugebiet mit freistehenden Einfamilienhäusern, großen Gärten und hohen Hecken.

Die Gegend sieht viel netter aus als alles, was er von Saarbrücken in seiner Erinnerungen abgespeichert hat. Gegenüber dem Bunker wirkt zwar vermutlich alles nett und freundlich, aber Adam ist trotzdem froh, dass diese Gegend ihn eher an München erinnert als an seine Kindheit hier.

Das Navi teilt ihm mit, dass er sein Ziel erreicht hat und Adam stellt sein Auto an der Straße ab. Normalerweise würde er mehr darüber nachdenken, wie es wohl wirken könnte, wenn jemand hier einen Wagen mit Münchner Kennzeichen entdeckt, aber heute Nacht scheißt er darauf. Sollen die Leute doch denken, was sie wollen.

Er atmet noch einmal tief durch, bevor er in der Mittelkonsole nach seinem Handy greift. Mehrmals haben seine Finger während der Fahrt danach gezuckt, aber er konnte sich zum Glück jedes Mal davon abhalten mit der Begründung, dass er erst recht nicht ankommen wird, wenn er jetzt auf der Autobahn einen Unfall verursacht.

Ganz oben in ihrem Chat steht Leos Frage, wann Adam es wohl schafft, sich in München loszueisen. Er konnte bis zum letzten Moment nicht sagen, wie lange sich der Saisonabschluss im Verein hinziehen würde und hat schon befürchtet, Leo auf später vertrösten zu müssen, falls er noch mehr Hände schütteln und für die Kameras lächeln muss. Dabei dachte er eigentlich, dass er davon bei der Meisterschaftsfeier schon genug erledigt hätte.

Selbst während der Feier hat er sich ständig eine ruhige Ecke gesucht, um Leo zu schreiben, aber um das nachzulesen, müsste er im Chat weiter nach oben scrollen. Das sollte er vielleicht im Moment auch lieber lassen, weil er bestimmt einiges wiederfinden würde, was bei genauerem Nachdenken peinlich sein könnte. Er ist sich ziemlich sicher, dass er in einigen Augenblicken ein bisschen weinerlich geworden ist, weil er keine Lust mehr hatte und viel lieber bei Leo sein wollte.

Aber jetzt ist er ja hier. In seiner letzten Nachricht hat er gefragt, was Leos Eltern wohl dazu sagen würden, wenn er einfach so hier auftaucht. Leo hat darauf geantwortet, dass er auch einfach zurück nach Frankfurt kommen kann. Wahrscheinlich sollte Adam froh darüber sein, dass er diese Nachricht schon nicht mehr gelesen hat, weil er sonst bestimmt doch noch einen Rückzieher gemacht hätte.

Nachdem Adam nicht geantwortet hat, hat Leo ihm drei Stunden später noch einmal geschrieben: Ruf an, wenn du da bist. Ich hebe dir Reste vom Abendessen auf.

Von der Schwere auf Adams Brust ist nichts mehr zu spüren. Er ist wieder in Saarbrücken, aber er muss trotzdem lächeln, weil Leo ihn so wahnsinnig gut kennt und weil er es gar nicht mehr abwarten kann, ihn gleich endlich wieder zu sehen.

#ask game #etwas länger als ein snippet sein müsste aber na ja #die szene hat so schön gepasst :D

[piotrtymcio]

Museum Scene

Canon EOS R6, RF 16mm F2.8 STM

f/2.8, 16mm, 1/30s, ISO 4000

11/08/2022

[ENG] I took this photo during my vacation in Ustka. My son and I went to explore Blucher's bunkers while the rest of the family was having fun in the amusement park. I have to admit that for a place of relatively small size, it was quite well organized. The audio guide worked quite well. The exhibitions were rich in exhibits and reenactments, as you can see above. Olek picked out a souvenir ear-flap hat in the souvenir shop, which he hardly ever takes off. He also fired a few rounds from an airgun at a nearby shooting range. And even though Ustka itself didn't particularly charm me in terms of its quality, this trip was definitely a plus. I highly recommend it.

[PL] To zdjęcie zrobiłem w czasie wakacji w Ustce. Poszliśmy z synem zwiedzić bunkry Bluchera podczas gdy reszta rodziny bawiła się w parku rozrywki. I trzeba przyznać, że jak na miejsce o niewielkie powierzchni to całkiem fajnie to było wszystko ograne. Przewodnik w formie audio sprawdził się całkiem nieźle. Wystawy bogate w eksponaty i inscenizacje co z resztą widać powyżej. Olek wypatrzył sobie czapkę uszatkę w sklepie z pamiątkami z którą prawie się nie rozstaje. Wypalił też kilka serii z broni pneumatycznej na pobliskiej strzelnicy. No i mimo, że ustka jakość szczególnie mnie nie urzekła sama w sobie to ten wypad na pewno był na plus. Gorąco polecam.

#ustka #photoblog #photography #museum #muzeum #fotografia

[joker1315]

Das war der erste Streich und der zweite folgt sogleich.

Der Herr des Waldes: Mehr Kommentare

Ich muss jetzt mal sagen, dass ich es toll finde. dass sie den Vor- und Abspann nie geändert haben.

Gelbe Kleider, Fahrräder, ein Wald und eine Höhle?! Ah, ist nur ein Bunker. Solange nirgendwo ein Atomkraftwerk steht...

Ich dachte, das mit dem Zweig im Maul bei der Jagd wäre Allgemeinwissen.

Ist Adam sauer, dass Leo seinen Vater niedergeschlagen hat?

Der Zufall, dass Adams Vater genau dann wieder aufwacht, wenn er zurück kommt.

Weshalb haben sie zu den Schulterholstern gewechselt? Weil es cooler aussieht?

Was soll denn das jetzt. Die Mädchen beginnen zu flennen und die Jungs nicht? Wo ist denn da die Gleichberechtigung?

Dafür haben sie einen Fremden im Wald mit Narbe am Hals. Zufall?

Eine schöne Aussicht vom Büro haben sie.

Da haben sich zwei Psychopathen gefunden. Gut hat der den Rollstuhl samt Sender eingepackt.

Oh, Leo hat doch noch geschossen. Hätten sie nicht vorher mal rufen müssen?

Adam hat gemerkt, dass warten nicht so schlau war. Immerhin ist er ehrlich bestürzt.

Ich finde es immer gut, wenn es die Ermittler beschäftigt, wenn sie wen erschiessen müssen und nicht einfach weiter machen, als ob nichts gewesen ist. Ich denke, ich hoffe, das ist realistischer.

Auf jeden Fall war es gut gespielt von den beiden.

Und wieder ein Cliffhanger. Was der Papa den beiden wohl erzählt? Das wird die Stimmung zwischen den beiden Paaren nicht gerade heben.

Der Zusammenhang zwischen dem Killer und Adams Vater war etwas merkwürdig eingebaut. Sogar der Killer fand das Timing merkwürdig.

Und die Nebenstory mit dem Einsiedler? Den hat da vorher niemand bemerkt? Wo so viele Leute in dem Wald unterwegs sind?

#tatort #tatort saarbrücken #spatort #leo hölzer #adam schürk #der herr des waldes #ich schaue