and-they-die

[and-they-die]

danmei novels by Priest(P大)

I’ve recently gotten into danmei novels and one author in particular caught my attention (and my heart!).

Priest (known in the fandom as pipi/皮皮, sweet/甜甜, goddess/女神) is a Chinese web novel author known for her diverse genre of works, well-developed worlds, multi-dimensional and human characters, strong plots, and lack of explicit content. Her humor is on point - not juvenile nor dry - and the angst is even more delicious. Still, she doesn’t write bad endings. She always gives satisfying and logical conclusions, not leaving the readers empty or feeling frustrated.

                                      (Check out pipi.carrd.co !)

Her novels are all posted on jjwxc, and as of writing, she is the top author in the list. She is among the Great God-level authors in Jinjiang.

Listed below are her novels that are being translated by several groups/individuals:

Guardian (镇魂/Zhenhun) [completed!] translated by Rainbowse7en on Wattpad Chapter 88 onwards by ineffablebfs and fandoentrans

- Completed in 2012. - Live action aired last June - July 2018, starring Zhu Yilong and Bai Yu. - Modern fantasy/supernatural. A shameless but wise investigation chief, and a reserved but very passionate professor.

Sha Po Lang ( 杀破狼) [completed!] translated by Northwest Flower on Wattpad

- Completed in 2015. There are a total of three radio drama seasons. A donghua will be produced in the near future. - Live action slated for 2021, starring Chen Zheyuan and Tan Jianci. - Historical steampunk/wars. Very political and plot-heavy. The world building is commendable. The pairing have seven years age gap; a very capable, blind-deaf esteemed general and a gentle, intelligent prince.

Silent Reading (默读/Mo Du) [completed!] translated by Ainushi Translations translated by QuantumC translated by E. Danglars (complete)

- one of her more popular works. Watch the donghua PV here. Audio drama is ongoing. A drama will be produced in the near future as well. Completed in 2016. - Douban’s Top Suspense/Mystery Novel for 2018. - Modern mystery/detective story. A thuggish policeman and a flirtatious and nonchalant rich second-generation. 

The Defective ( 残次品/Can Ci Pin) translated by GPS Translations on Wattpad (Chapter 1-onwards) translated by Koku (Chapter 49-onwards)

- one of the two winners of Best Original Book award in the 30th Galaxy Awards, the most prestigious sci-fi awards in China (comparable to Hugo Awards) - Completed in 2017, her longest work so far, and among the popular ones, too. Audio drama completed with 4 seasons. - Space opera/sci-fi. “Humans are born from belief, die of belief, and reborn from the ashes of belief.” The one with the largest and most complex plot. Intense, splendid, breathtaking. Has much more to it than you’d expect. “In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.”

Revitalization of Fuyao Sect(六爻/Liu Yao) translated by Blob Translations (Chapters 1-33) translated by Pizzilations (Chapters 34 - onwards) translated by rustycol (Chapters 35 - onwards)

- will have a donghua and a drama in the near future. Completed in 2014. - Xianxia; found family theme. A cultivation story about how a declining sect is restored by a narcissist, a troublemaker, a meanie, an idiot and a wimpy kid.

Through the Strait Gates( 过门/Guomen) translated by bleachedfish on Wattpad translated by Chai (complete)

- Completed in 2015. - One that focuses on commoners: people around me and you. Modern city, loads of angst. Bittersweet past memories mixed up with the current, the pain of the inability to overcome the harsh obstacle of what is called reality.

Faraway Wanderers ( 天涯客 /Tian Ya Ke) translated by Sparkling Water Translations (Chapters 1-30) translated by Liyou (Chapters 31-onwards)

- Completed in 2010. - Live action entitled 山河令/Word of Honor, starring Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun. - Historical, Wuxia, Humor, Adventure. A tale about the former leader of a special organization served under royalty, now leaving his past life behind and unintentionally getting involved with the martial world

Drowning Sorrows with Raging Fire(烈火浇愁/Lie Huo Jiao Chou) translated by Vermilion Bird Translations on Wattpad

- completed in 2019. multiple adaptation licenses acquired before end of serialization. - Priest revised the whole novel and uploaded version 2.0 in May 2020. - urban fantasy and Chinese mythology. A clan patriarch who is a recently hired government staff, and an Emperor from a previous dynasty recently awakened by an unknown party.

Bestial Blade ( 兽丛之刀/Shou Cong Zhi Dao) translated by Flower Succulent translated by Lizonka

- completed in 2012. - A story about eating, drinking, and killing monsters in the barbaric bestial world.

Lord Seventh (七爷/Qi Ye) translated by Sparkling Water Translations (Chapters 1-5) translated by MaoTranslates (Chapters 6-7) translated by JadeRabbitPendants on Wattpad (Chapter 8 onwards) translated by Chichi (complete)

- completed in 2010, set in the same universe as Faraway Wanderers (different story altogether, can be read separately and without any order). - Having been given a second chance, Beiyuan had to survive court and decide whether it was finally time for him to let go of his feelings; all while trying to handle the youthful, innocent force of nature who had suddenly barged into his already complicated life.

Jin Se/锦瑟 translated by wangxianbot on Wattpad translated by Chrysanthemum Garden

- completed in 2011, a yao x human story with xianxia background - In troubling times, old friends have now stood on opposite sides of the front line. Pride and suspicion have pushed them even further, only for them to finally realise, the peace during childhood was the thing we chase after all this time.

The Way of Evil (坏道/Huai Dao) translated by Wo Cao Translations

- completed in 2010 - A powerful, calm outside but wild inside gong X a naturally spacey shou of unknown character. Inserted with a side CP: a stubborn and pesky gong X a playboy shou. - This is a detective story filled with all kinds of people—from those with abnormal behavior to the mentally unstable—with numerous absurd cases with handsome men and beautiful women interwoven in them.

The Final Protectors (最后的守卫/Zui Hou De Shou Wei ) translated by Wo Cao Translations

- completed in 2012 - childhood friends turned lovers turned ex-lovers! Western fantasy, main character is whisked away into the present time, faced with the threat of a weakening border that protects the land from the dangerous unknown. - A fictional mainland setting. A story of reconciliation and reunion after separation—picking up the pieces and starting anew.

Shan He Biao Li (山河表里) translated by Hyouka

- completed in 2014 - licensed for a live adaptation! - an ex-assassin finds himself becoming a Mandarin teacher to a tribe he didn’t know existed in the mountains, in the behest of its otherworldly beautiful tribe chief. But within the alienated mountains were creatures and phenomena that threaten the tribe’s very existence.

The Ultimate Blue Seal (终极蓝印/Zhong Ji Lan Yin) translated by E. Danglars (complete)

- completed in 2011 - contemporary scifi, action. - a young man recently broken up with his boyfriend gets into a one-night stand, which then turned his world upside down (in not a good way). - The story of how a little weakling of a loser who can’t do anything but eat, drink, and have fun, and who’s been dumped on top of it, grows up into a crafty and conniving genuine man. 

As you can see, she really has a diverse set of writing. I’m sure one of those would fit your tastes, even just the quality of her writing is worth checking out ^^

She has a lot more books written and many will be adapted to other forms of media. Will update this list if there are new translations in the future \o/

P.S. You cannot trust her summaries in jjwxc （´∀｀）but you can definitely trust the quality and the HE.

She also writes BG/Non-danmei novels! One of which is being translated right now and is set to have a drama this year (2020) — Bandits (Youfei/有匪), English translations by elentiya lei. Another BG novel is being translated by Chai, No Pollution, No Public Nuisance (Wu Wuran, Wu Gonghai/ 无污染无公害）. This has been licensed for a future live action adaptation.

latest update (03/02/2021)

[and-they-die]

Emma To Bruce

Dear Bruce,

We went back to Devil Tavern today with Jem’s advice (bring family rings, show to bartender, gain access to secret room). I don’t know, the Devil Tavern seems to really like elaborate ways of getting in places? So we went in and there was some confusion because when we were there before I heard one of the customers call the bartender “Ernie,” so we asked one of the waitresses for Ernie, and she said there was no Ernie. But then, because we were Shadowhunters she thought we were there to question Ernie about something, so I figured she was just covering up for Ernie and I said, “No, it’s okay, you can tell Ernie he’s not in any trouble,” and the waitress looked even more baffled and said there was no Ernie…we went around like that a few times.

Anyway eventually the bartender comes back up from the basement or wherever he was, and he explains that he is Fred, not Ernie, but that for many many years the bartender was named Ernie, his grandfather and his great-grandfather at least were both named Ernie. So most of the vampires and faeries who have been coming since the Time of Ernies have just stubbornly refused to learn any of the newer bartenders’ names. He tried, when he was a younger man, but they just laughed and said, “That’s a good one, Ernie.” He sounded kind of sad when he said it. I guess everyone has their weird stuff they have to deal with.

We explained to Not Ernie about what Jem had told us, and we showed him our rings. He said yeah, there’s an old room that used to be used by Shadowhunters for clandestine meetings, upstairs. There are instructions left that go back a hundred years that say the room has to be maintained for the use of Shadowhunters, even though none have come around for a long time. They take it really seriously though.

He brought us the key from somewhere—one of those old skeleton key type keys you never see anymore—and we went upstairs and let ourselves in. Let me tell you, Bruce, they do not think being obligated to “maintain” the room means they are obligated to “dust” the room. Absolute nightmare for an asthmatic.

The room is still intact, though—actually, it’s more like a tiny apartment (a “bedsit,” Julian adorably called it), with a tiny bedroom off of a sitting area with a table in the middle and a rather shabby couch. It’s not like the rest of the tavern at all, it feels like you’d imagine a study room in the oldest library at the oldest college in Oxford would feel. Books everywhere, lots of big chunky carved wood, people’s initials carved into the table (note for people scratching their initials into tables: include your last initials! It makes it much easier for your descendants to figure out who you were! There could be a million people named “J!”).

There was nothing obviously ghostly, so Julian used the Sensor we got from Ty. It didn’t find much, but eventually it reacted near a particular book on one of the shelves built into the wall. We pulled it out and it seems to be a handwritten book, with a really elaborate stitched cover. It was called The Beautiful Cordelia and it’s by “L.H.” I would bet any amount of money “H” stands for Herondale. But there was nothing magical about the book. I mean, I didn’t read it yet; maybe it weaves a truly magical tale. But the Sensor didn’t react much to the book itself, there was nothing in between any of the pages, the ink wasn’t sparkly, etc.

Eventually we thought to kneel down and look into the space on the shelf where the book had come from, and sure enough, there was a little nook carved deeper into the wall. Julian and I agreed that in that nook was definitely…a ton of spiders. So we rock-paper-scissorsed for it, I lost, and stuck my hand back there. Luckily, no spiders. Instead, a surprise: an antique metal flask! Like the kind a gentleman would keep in his coat pocket. It is silver—well, at least the color is silver. It might be pewter. It is also definitely not a “band.”

BUT. The Sensor went bananas. We put the flask on the table and the Sensor next to it and it wailed like crazy. It looks like a normal flask to me, kind of blackened with time, and it’s not like when we opened it, a ghost slithered out. I don’t know. It was empty, and the Sensor didn’t react to anything else in the room. We hung out there for about half an hour even after we were done, though. The place did feel comfortable, it must have been really great in its day. I thought I might go back sometime and offer to pay Fred if he would have it dusted and cleaned. There’s probably stuff in there the London Institute would want, too. But that’s for when we’re done with Blackthorn House (and its ghost).

We couldn’t think of anything to do with the flask there at the Tavern, so we left and locked it up and returned the key. We brought the flask into the house, and Julian went to get the silver polish. When we cleaned the flask up, we saw that it had a pretty, elaborate tracery pattern of leaves and flowers on it, and was monogrammed. Not a Herondale this time. Not a Blackthorn, either. The initials were M.F.

Julian is squinting angrily at the witchlight I’m holding to write this. I guess it is pretty late. Good night, Bruce. Good night, groovy bedroom. Good night, ghost. Good night, mysterious flask.

Good night, Julian my love.

— Emma

[and-they-die]

I was cleaning out my computer and I found a bunch of screenshots of text posts from 2013-2014. The golden age of tumblr.

I take no credit for these posts.

[and-they-die]

Jem to Emma

Dearest Emma,

Thank you for writing to keep me apprised of the situation at Blackthorn Hall, and this haunting in particular. It means a great deal to me that you’re willing to share what’s going on. I’m glad we’ve moved beyond the days when you felt you had to conceal your more wild schemes from the older generation, myself included. I hope you know that you need keep no secrets from me, no matter how outlandish those schemes are. Secrets have caused you and Julian so much heartbreak in the past, I want you to know that you can tell me anything and I will not judge you.

So you say you are helping a ghost? That could be a noble pursuit, and a compassionate one, but I must urge you to be careful. Blackthorn Hall has a history that at times involved unsavory characters and sinister magic, and if a spirit truly is haunting the manor, it may not be benevolent. The fact that Magnus sensed no ill will eases my mind a great deal, but I would still urge you to think carefully about what this ghost asks of you in seeking its freedom. It may not mean you any overt harm, but that does not mean that no harm will come to you.

As for the Devil Tavern—I do indeed know it. It has been a Downworlder haunt for many centuries, and for some time, at the early part of the last century, it was something of a refuge for people Tessa and I cared about very much. I do not want to tell you too much about them — it is painful to cast our thoughts back to that time, for it is a reminder of so much that has been lost, and of those we could not save. But I also think it may not help you — it seems to me best that you go into this search without preconceptions or expectations of what you may find.

Why do I feel this? I can only say that during my many years of being a Silent Brother, I felt a great kinship for shades: for the dead and those who haunted, and for the memories that tethered them to earth. I too was tethered by memories in those times. They were what kept me human and able to return to this life I have now, that I love so much.

So I will not tell you of names, or personalities — they may not be relevant to your search at all, but you must go forward, to find that out. And that is why I will tell you this: you saw only a little of the Devil Tavern. There are a set of rather blackened stairs behind the bar, and up those stairs there is a secret room, one that was closed off decades ago. It is possible that whatever your ghost is looking for may be in there. If you wish to gain entry to the hidden room — and a warmer reception at the Devil in general — show the bartender your family rings. Say the names: Blackthorn. Carstairs. They will matter.

I hope you will keep me apprised of what you discover, and the next steps in your adventure. I wish to know, though there is some part of me that fears what you might find in that room, and what it may say about the fates of those I loved in the past. I hope that I am wrong. I hope that this tale will have a happy ending. I know this much—this ghost is lucky to have determined souls such as yourself and Julian helping it to find rest.

Church has informed me that it is, in fact, time for dinner, and naturally I must attend to his every whim. I hope that you and Julian are having a good time settling in at Blackthorn Hall, in spite of the restive ghost and the many years of neglect the place has suffered. You are correct that it does not surprise me that a ghost is there. The past haunts that place, a story of things done and things left undone. It is possible that by bringing love and warmth into that place, you will close that chapter of neglect, and open a new one, of infinite possibility.

I believe in you, Emma. When I see you, I see Carstairs past; I see bravery, and the flame of Cortana. Remember that you are of the steel and temper of those who have gone before you. I hope that I will see you again soon, and that when I do I will have the strength to tell you of some of them, of a girl with fire-bright hair, and her brother, and those who came before and after them.

Love,

Jem

[and-they-die]

Tessa to Maryse

Dear Maryse,

As one mother to another, I’m writing to you for advice. It’s been many many years since I was raising children, and when I say many years, I mean more than a century. And now I find myself in that position again. Although we have not talked frequently, I have often thought what a wonderful mother you must have been and continue to be. After all, your children have turned out so wonderfully. Isabelle is so brave, Alec such a leader, and Jace, well, I can only tell you that I know what an excellent example of a Herondale is, and he is one.

I also know that you have experienced profound loss and grief, and that you understand it.

I am writing to you about Kit. He too is a Herondale, and I believe that he will be an excellent example of one as well. But like all Herondale men (and the girls, too, believe me I know!) he is very private and secretive. On the whole Jem and I wish nothing but to respect his privacy. But when comes the time when worry requires one, as a parent, to intervene?

A few nights ago after dinner I stopped by Kit’s room to give him his phone (he is forever losing it and leaving it somewhere!), and I found that he was not there. Glancing out the window, I could see him outside, standing in our front garden. He had his back to me and appeared to be staring off into the distance, but I could tell by the way he was standing and the movements of his shoulders that he was agitated. Concerned, I followed him outside. I came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. Perhaps I came too quietly. I realized immediately that he was talking to a ghost—I’ve had experiences of such things before. As is always the case in this kind of situation, I could hear only his side of the conversation.

Kit said, “If you keep trying to talk to me about this, I’m not going to be able to see you anymore.” Then he said, “Of course I believe in forgiveness. But some things are so terrible that you never want to revisit them.” There was a long pause. I thought maybe it was over. And then he said, “Don’t you understand? Everytime you bring him up, it tears another piece out of my heart.” Then he turned around, and of course saw me, standing on the path outside the house. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a sort of betrayed look and ran inside.

The next day of course he just pretended that nothing had happened. I just don’t know what to do. Should I leave him alone to work through this on his own? I always figured there must be ghosts at Cirenworth—Kit has informed me that there is a ghost dog that he plays with sometimes, a retriever I think —but I can’t imagine any of them as malicious or hurtful. And indeed it didn't sound as though he were afraid of the ghost, but as though the ghost brought back dark memories of his past. Perhaps of his father? I just don’t know what to do. Jem thinks we should let him work it out on his own, as he is a teenager, but then I remember my first two children, when they were teenagers, how there were times when they did need my help. (I am very much hoping that Kit is not having a tempestuous affair with a ghost, as I’m not sure I could go through that again.)

It’s keeping me up nights worrying. If there’s any advice that you have, I’d love to hear it.

I’m enclosing a picture of Jace and Clary with Kit and Mina, last time they visited. They look so happy!

All best,

Tessa

[and-they-die]

Emma To Jem

Dear Jem,

I feel bad writing to you about this out of the blue, but you said it was okay to get in touch with you anytime for advice. And you always give good advice, but I can’t help feeling like beyond that, maybe you might have some familiarity here that could be helpful?

So, as you know, Julian and I have taken on the gigantic task of renovating Blackthorn Hall. AND, you probably are totally unsurprised to hear, we found a ghost. (I say this because everyone else who was around back when this house was being taken care of, are also not surprised there’s a ghost.)

Good news: ghost is not unfriendly (or at least not violent). He’s just looking for the “silver band” that binds him. Not unusual, lots of ghosts are bound to an earthly object.

Bad news: ghost can’t be identified as a specific person, so could be pretending to not be violent. Also, “silver band” could be any of a thousand things.

I suppose we can just put aside anything we find that might be what he’s looking for, but that seems pretty unlikely to work. (After all, he hasn’t found the “silver band” in the house and he’s been haunting it for however long.)

We did get one direct clue from the ghost. He likes to communicate by scrawling in dust on the floor, and his last message told us to Find the Devil Tavern. Ok. A little research turns up that it’s a Downworlder speakeasy, heavily glamoured, that’s been around for hundreds of years, in London’s Old City. (It was apparently a real tavern once, and Samuel Johnson had a drinking club there. Wild times, I gather.) Jules looked it up and apparently it’s still in operation. It’s not far from the Institute, actually, though whether that has to do with the ghost or is just a coincidence we don’t know.

Anyway, Julian and I went to check out the place. It’s a glamoured pub, of course. From the outside you pretty much just see a bank and one of those blue plaques they put on historical sites.

It was clear the mundanes walking by couldn’t see the entrance. But we could, of course. So we went in.

Inside, it’s a pretty normal pub, it turns out, though they make you go through a whole rigamarole to get in, they’re really leaning into the speakeasy thing. You actually now have to go into the mundane bank, which must think it has the weirdest clientele of any bank branch in England. You have to mention “the Devil” to the teller, who then gives you a key made of salt that opens a panel in the lift that reveals a button with little devil horns on it. Which takes you down to the pub. (The key disintegrates when you use it, obviously.) I have no idea what happens when some random mundane says, “what the devil happened to my money,” or something.

Anyway, that all sounds very complicated but in practice it was easy enough; rather than trying for some complicated password Julian only said casually, “I’m here for the Devil,” and the teller handed him the key. She barely even looked interested, she was doing a sudoku on her phone or something and just kind of handed the key over from a tray of them. Maybe Londoners just don’t blink at bizarre very old London stuff.

We came in and looked around and then eventually the barman asked if we wanted anything and we left. They obviously recognized us as Shadowhunters and were not super-pleased to see us. But in that short visit we didn’t see anything in plain view that had anything to do with a silver band, or the house in Chiswick, or the Blackthorns and Lightwoods who lived there. The place could be any ancient London pub, very old, dark wood, stained glass, and just an overwhelming crowd of drunk Downworlders. We had, it seems, interrupted a retirement party for one of their regulars, a kelpie. I know what you’re going to ask, and yes, the kelpie was in a big tub of water. His name was Pickles—I know!—and he kept yelling about how he was “starting a new life under the sea.” So of course they thought we were basically the cops come to bust up their party, and didn’t want us there. But I don’t know what we could have done even if we stayed. We’d been hoping we’d see the place and it would just spark some kind of ideas about silver bands and the like, but — no dice.

So I thought, since you and Tessa were both around in the earlier better days of Blackthorn Hall, once Lightwood House—does the Devil Tavern ring any bells for you? Can you think of any connection between this random Downworlder pub and the people who lived in the house in Chiswick? If not, no worries, but I thought I would at least ask. If you have any thoughts about the identity of our ghost, based on the Devil Tavern thing or anything else I’ve said, please get in touch and let us know! Cleaning out the house definitely includes cleaning out the ghosts, but also, you know, it feels like the right thing to do to help him out if we can.

My love to Tessa and Kit and Mina, and love from us here!

Emma

[and-they-die]

Emma To Bruce

Dear Bruce,

I woke up this morning to find it was an improbably beautiful day with bright blue skies and those cute little white scudding clouds. “All right,” I thought. “There is no way I am spending this gorgeous day in wonderful London inside this falling-down house, scrubbing the floors and brooding about ghosts. The question: how to convince Julian that we should go out and have fun?”

I marched upstairs and found Julian drinking coffee in the kitchen. I said, “Jules. You know that thing you want me to do, that I’ve been refusing to do? If you come out and have a good time with me today in London, I’ll do it.”

A big grin spread over his face. He said, “OKAY!” In fact, he said it as he was already running out the door. I had to get him to come back for a jacket.

Bruce, we had an absolutely great time in London. We took a boat ride down the Thames. We went to a costume shop. We saw the Tower and went to Fortnum and Mason’s and had tea. Julian ate all my cucumber sandwiches because I hate them. We went on the London Eye, which is like a more spectacular version of the Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier. Demons did not attack this time, and Julian booked a whole pod so that we could snuggle and cuddle.

In the middle of the snuggling and cuddling, Julian stopped and stared into my eyes with an intense look. I could tell he had something to ask me, and for a moment I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.

“Emma,” he said, “what would you think about moving to London with me?”

I said, “What do you mean? We’re already here.”

He explained that he was thinking, if we got Blackthorn Hall all fixed up, we could live in it until Dru or Ty or Tavvy (or all three of them) grow up and want to move there. He explained that Helen and Aline were doing a great job running the LA Institute and that they don’t really need us. Besides, they’re thinking of starting a family soon so maybe they don’t want so many people running around the Institute. I said, “But I thought you liked Los Angeles, and practically everyone we know is there.” He pointed out that that wasn’t totally true. In London, we’d be closer to Ty, and pretty much the same distance from the east coast, where Dru is, and of course Mark and Cristina are in New York half the time, too. I think he could tell that I wasn’t sure what to say, because he added, “It’s really about us having a home, one that we make together. Being grown up, and having a grown up kind of life.”

I joked around, saying we were still pretty young, and he said, “I know that most people who get together when they’re teenagers break up. They get older and they change. I just want us to go through the important things together, so we change together. Does that make sense?”

I told him it did though I was pretty freaked out he even mentioned BREAKING UP as a concept. So I kissed him, which distracted us both, and when our pod came to a stop on the ground everyone cheered and whistled. The English are more lustful than I had previously suspected.

I was exhausted by the time we got home and discovered that our ghost friend had been active in our absence. In the dust on the dining room floor were written the words

FIND THE DEVIL TAVERN

Now what on earth does that mean? Though honestly, we were both kind of pleased to see the message. At least it’s a clue so that we can begin to unravel the mystery of our ghost and his silver band.

PS Bruce, I know you’re dying to find out what it was that Julian wanted me to let him do that I have been refusing to do. Remember when I said we went to a costume shop? Well, apparently Dru made Julian watch The Hunger Games with her the last time we were home, and he really really wanted to paint me like this.

The things we do for love.

—Emma

[and-they-die]

Magnus to Alec

Dear Alec,

Before anything else, I just want to mention once again that you are by far the handsomest man I have ever met, with the most beautiful blue eyes, and what I love most about you, among so, so many other features, is that you are a man of incalculable understanding, patience, and forgiveness.

Yes, this is our vacation. Yes, you and the kids are lounging on the soft white sands of St Barths, as is good and right. Yes, I have had to dash to London on urgent business involving Blackthorns. Yes, I have been receiving your many supportive texts, accompanied by your many photos in which you look angry while holding umbrella drinks.

No, I will not be back today. You must imagine me saying this with the heaviest of sighs and the most forlorn look. I need one more day. Blackthorn Hall is haunted—which I could have told anyone who had bothered to ask, I’ve never known a more obviously haunted place in my life—and none of the little Blackthorns (who I suppose are no longer quite as little as all that) have had to deal with this kind of ghostiness before.

So again, let me commend you for your forbearance in this time of trial. That is not sarcasm, just formal! I really mean it!

Love you, Alec. See you tomorrow night. The next morning at the absolute latest -

To the Greatest Man Who Has Ever Or Will Ever Live,

It will be tomorrow morning. I was meaning to depart tonight, but it is now very, very late, and I have had no small amount of wine, and these are not the conditions by which I would feel quite safe opening a Portal. It will not do me any good to return to St Barth if I show up on top of the Gustavia Lighthouse.

So since I cannot yet sleep, but must, let me quickly fill you in.

The Blackthorns are fixing up Blackthorn Hall—fancy that—and while I understand they are now properly adults, they are still young enough to use a hundred year old Ouija board they found hidden in the walls. Didn’t have a planchette? Not a problem, we will just make one out of scrap without reference to the wood or the ley-lines or any of the— Sorry. I couldn’t help it, it’s such the Shadowhunter stereotype. Leap before you look. In fact, just leap. Leap whenever and wherever.

As it turns out (spoiler alert!) the spirit of the house—at least the restless one—means no apparent harm and is just your standard everyday “ghost looking for its missing bauble to move on” situation, as you’ll see. But I was more alarmed for it being the house in Chiswick. Many generations of Lightwoods lived in it over many years, and there always seemed a dark shadow over the place. In the mid-19th it was the home of, I’m sorry to say, a very bad Lightwood, definitely one of the worst Lightwoods, and after that, well, its fall from grace was precipitous. I cannot say from what time period this ghost might date, but given its reaction to the name “Blackthorn”, I had my worries.

Anyway, by the time I got to the house, Julian and Emma had managed to cause the Ouija board to, you know, magically shatter into a dozen pieces. I magicked it back—note for future reference, easier to magically repair something that was magically broken in the first place rather than with, say, a hammer—and produced a makeshift but actually calibrated and warded planchette. And burned their planchette in a fire. Outside.

It was quick enough at that point to contact the presence in the house, who was indistinct, probably from being alone for the past hundred-odd years. Let me tell you, Alec love, I was worried then. I was worried that this ghost was someone I knew. Someone I cared about, once. It probably isn’t—most of them would have no reason to be ghosts at all, much less ghosts stuck here—but once the thought occurred to me, I couldn’t put it aside. I tried to ask but you know how ghosts are. “I do not now know you,” it said. Great. But did you know me when you were alive? Just “I do not now know you.”

Anyway the thing was peaceful enough. We finally got around to the topic of why he is a ghost—we got enough of a spoken voice to know the voice is male, at least. He spoke aloud, and firmly. I am bound here by a silver band, he said.

Whether this silver band is a ring, a bracelet, a handcuff, the concept of “the ties that bind,” or a group of robot musicians, I have no idea. But it’s normal enough for a ghost to be bound by an object and to be looking for the thing that binds them. I honestly didn’t get a negative vibe from the guy. I’m… let’s say ninety percent sure that it’s not the aforementioned Bad Lightwood, at least. I told Julian and Emma there was no harm in their keeping an eye out for a silver band during their cleanup of the house, but not to worry themselves sick over it. This felt like wise advice at the time, although we had all had quite a bit of wine at that point.

The wine was in fact drunk continually throughout the evening, as there are some salvageable bottles from the cellar—rather amazingly, although I don’t know, maybe Shadowhunters have wine preservation runes somewhere near the back of the Gray Book. And drinking red wine while talking to a ghost just seemed, I don’t know, the right pairing? But of course now I have a splitting headache from a combination of sulfites and light necromancy. I am going to put myself to long-overdue sleep, and then tomorrow at six in the morning your time please tell le garçon I would like waiting for me a café allongé, very hot and a sidecar, very cold. I will then entertain the children for the rest of the day while you, my love, my all, take a nap and join us whenever you please.

With all my love, all my kissin’, you don’t know what you been missin’,

M.

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let googie speak!! for anon ♡

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Fics Masterlist

“No Strings Attached” (Bokuaka): https://archiveofourown.org/works/33166936

“The Manservant” (Iwaoi): https://archiveofourown.org/works/33477652

“Married In Vegas” (Iwaoi): https://archiveofourown.org/works/33886810

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Shiki Fūjin

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Mark to Ty

Greetings and Salutations, Tiberius.

I hope this missive finds you well at the Scholomance. For my own part, I am rather hungover. We took to the clubs of London and ended up swept away in the festivities of Kraig’s retirement party. ‘Who is Kraig?’ you may ask. That is a very good question, Tiberius. As of this morning, I have no idea.

You will be relieved to know that none of this is why I’m writing to you. It’s rather about what happened afterwards.

As you know, Julian and Emma are staying at Blackthorn Hall, attempting to get it fixed up. Emma has been going through stacks of old papers and ephemera, and Julian has been dealing with the particulars of the needed repairs. Julian also mentioned that he’s been working on a mural, though he keeps it covered with a cloth so I don’t know what it depicts. Whatever the subject matter, I am glad that he is finding time to paint.

This is my first visit to Blackthorn Hall since I was a child, and I must say that Julian and Emma have their work cut out for them. Especially because it seems to be haunted.

Yes, haunted. I woke early this morning to the sound of an exclamation. Having passed out upon the stairs for some reason, I was directly across the hall from the ballroom, where I found Julian in the throes of dismay. There was paint spilled all over the ballroom floor. Julian has been working on the mural up there, and was quite upset by the mess. I wondered whether wild animals could have been responsible—the place certainly looks like it could be harboring numerous bands of cunning raccoons *—but then I saw that there were footsteps in the paint. They looked to be old-fashioned shoes, not like any soles I’d seen before. Since the house itself contains many garments of earlier eras, we looked for matches, but found none.

I felt a sort of chill in the ballroom that reminded me of my time with the Hunt. A hint of the cold of the grave. I suppose that is why I am inclined to agree with Emma and Julian that this mess is the work of a mischievous ghost, and not a strangely-dressed housebreaking vagrant. (Emma mentioned the term ‘cosplay’ but I do not know what that means.)

Julian, being who he is, blames himself. He keeps muttering about how he shouldn’t have gone out, how it’s his responsibility to take care of the place, and so on. You know how hard he can be on himself. I hate to hear it. I’d like to get to the bottom of this—for Julian’s sake, for the restoration of the house, and for the sake of all of us, because mopping up so much paint was not enjoyable, especially with a clanging headache—and that is why I am appealing to you, Ty, for aid. You’re at the Scholomance, and as a student you have at your fingertips a vast quantity of books, family trees, and historical records. Could you look and see if there are any references to Blackthorn Hall being haunted? If we know who the ghost is, it will be much easier to dispel them—lay them to rest, I should say. I cannot imagine it is enjoyable to be a ghost.

Please reply to Julian with any information, for unfortunately Kieran, Cristina and I must depart the day after tomorrow; Kieran cannot be away from the Land too long, and Cristina and I have work to do in New York.

I must go—Kieran has come to fetch me. Cristina and Emma have prepared a cream tea in an effort to lighten the mood. Kieran assures me that the sandwiches are extremely tiny, and that he cut the crusts off himself, with great accuracy.

I love you, Tiberius. I wish you were here with us, but I know you are doing great work in the Scholomance. I am proud to be your brother.

MARK

* Julian informs me there are no raccoons in England, whatever Disney films might have indicated to the contrary. I cannot express the depth of my betrayal.

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hello! just a lil smth, please don’t scroll!

tw // anti-asian violence

there’s been a fuck ton of aapi hate since the beginning of the pandemic and especially lately, with the georgia shootings today, and even the grammys last sunday

all this said i just wanted to share a few resources (none mine!):

- anti-asian violence resources (this resource is also linked in my pinned, it contains information, petitions, places to donate and a lot more)

- stop asian hate (contains petitions, places to donate, ways to spread the word and more)

- sites to donate to and share (if you have a twitter please consider retweeting)

- a cumulative twitter thread with a little bit of everything and more than i explained

+ stop asian hate gofundme

+ asian american resource center (an atlanta based foundation focused on housing and civil classes)

+ red canary song *

+ butterfly *

+ swan vancouver *

* above are three grassroots (not sure if im using that word right) dedicated to advocating for asian and migrant sex work! check them out and donate if possible

—

if you have any resources you wanna share reply and/or reblog and i’ll add it, and with that please share this with the same tags <3 sending love to my fellow aapi, please stay safe all of you and don’t be fucking racist :]

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i was just thinkin some thots...

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro, Tendou Satori, Semi Eita, Oohira Reon, Yamagata Hayato, Yahaba Shigeru, Kyoutani Kentarou, Watari Shinji, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Kindaichi Yuutarou, Kunimi Akira, Goshiki Tsutomu Additional Tags: Angst Summary:

Iwaizumi Hajime is simply a dull fisherman who made some bad choices in recent years.

He’s nothing special.

That is until the King pulls him out of prison to request a task from him.

A simple, easy, frankly boring task.

Unfortunately for Iwaizumi, Oikawa Tooru was never any of those things.

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru, Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro Additional Tags: Accidental Marriage Summary:

“I can’t believe we missed the wedding.” Makki shook his head.

“What wedding? Who got married?” Iwaizumi asked.

Makki and Mattsun’s eyebrows lifted to their hairlines. “You two did.” Mattsun clarified.

~

Or “the one where Oikawa and Iwaizumi get drunk married in Vegas.”