#and why the hell the circlet

[hydrachea]

FINALLY, AFTER A YEAR (and a little 🐋ing after losing that 50/50, because why would the bourgeois parasite himself come for cheap).

Bonus, since I'd prefarmed all his stuff beforehand and maxed him immediately: the long-awaited wrath of the rock.

[mumms-the-word]

I like to think each of the BG3 companions makes a little change in their appearance/outfit after the game ends, if they’ve been persuaded to distance themselves from their abusers gods and masters

like Gale stops wearing the Mystra earring for something else, something he feels more connected to (something related to his partner, perhaps)

Wyll replaces his sending stone eye with a different prosthetic eye. maybe he has a collection! maybe they’re magical in different ways!

Shadowheart throws her Sharran circlet away to experiment with other jewelry (she already changes her hair to white, so why not go a teeny step further?)

Astarion doesn’t really wear any trappings of Cazador but I like to think a spawn version of him would be interested in wearing more colorful ensembles, rather than the tired black and red (even though he looks good in black and red)

Lae’zel begins incorporating more comet motifs if she’s fighting against Vlaakith, or wearing more non-gith clothing if she’s hanging out in the Sword Coast

Karlach, at last, after finally escaping the hells for good and forever, starts dressing in something other than protective/fire-resistant leather. Nothing wrong with leather, but a girl wants to wear something soft every now and again and it’s good to know she can wear something like cotton or linen without setting it on fire

Halsin finally laying down his druidic armor and…well, we know he’d just go without clothing entirely if he could, but getting comfortable with wearing casual, non-armor outfits all the time, getting comfortable with the fact that he doesn’t have to don symbols and medallions showing his leadership role and allegiance to a specific grove (and probably very relieved to finally set those down and never pick them up again)

Minthara contemplating having someone retattoo the symbol on her neck to obscure the connections to House Baenre or adding another tattoo elsewhere to memorialize her allegiance to either herself or her romanced partner

I just like the idea of the companions acknowledging the little ways they’ve reinvented or adjusted their identities by making little cosmetic changes

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Dear author god,oh how you have fed us well,but yet. We crave more, and we desire more. It is time. Give us the confession. We will be counting on you and expecting greatness. May you give us the most bountiful feast to finally satiated. 👁👁 do let us down,our dear author god,we believe in your magnificence.

"YUÁN FÈN!!"

Your voice echoed in the Land of Those Memories, alongside the flash of the two weapons. The barrier prevented everyone to move in in the fight; even Bajie couldn't do anything but watch impotent the duel between the Destined One and the broken Shell of the Stone Monkey.

The truth was already too hard to digest, but tò accept that your beloved Yuán fèn was fighting to become fully the new Sub Wukong, which was beyond your liking.

The shield that prevented you from getting in, wasn't the Bián huá made to assist the Destined One?! Why some old ruler granted One to the Destined One if they couldn't assist him at the right time?!

"Child," the eldest spoke, "this is not something that you can take. Your duty is done; now you just had to watch."

"NO!"

Your voice was cracking; you kept pushing through that barrier, to the point that it even hurt. Your hands, fueled with your energy, clashed against it, generating a screech where the impact began.

"I'm done watching! I won't leave him! He needs him; he always does! I won't let a stupid old monkey kill him!"

Bajie suddenly reached you, trying to take your away, but it was like you were made of stone.

"Y/n stop! Your hands! Look at your hands!"

You didn't care of your hands; you didn't care that the fiction of the two powers was scratching your skin so hard that the pure flash was exposed. You didn't care that the same energy was burning your flesh, that your tips were coming off one by one, that the smell was unbearable, and that the dripping blood was making the water red. You didn't care about yourself; you cared about him. 

With that thought in mind, something happened. What you remember is that at some point some crack appeared, and a huge flash engulfed you.

You don't know many things. After that, just two pair of eyes watching you—one that remebered you the ember of a fire, the second one that was full of the worry as you.

When you woke up, the fight was already over. The smell of your burnt flesh, the blood that was still flinging from your wounds, your head that was burning like he'll—everything seems confused. Bajie was there, trying to wake you up from your state, telling you to go, to go away before the exit was too late.

In your pain, an image struck you: Yuán Fèn kneeling, the elders with something in his hands, the sun setting, making it look almost like a scene from a movie. The last ray of sun illuminated something that made your blodd freezer like ice.

That damn circlet.

"N...no!"

Despite the protest of Bajie and your own body, you stand up. Every step hurt, every movement was like hell, but you just couldn't stop.

"You... you don't have tò...bare his name...you don't owe him nothing!"

The elder, holding the circlet, looked at you with sympathy. Yuán Fèn didn't even move, stuck in a trance that something had cast on him.

You stumbled a few times, the waves that you made punk from the blood, yours, and of the precious fight. 

When your body gave up, you collapsed on his back, your trembling hands trying to embrace him and wake him up. 

You cried, tears and blood mizing together.

"You did this...you made this...you're my Yuán fèn...you're my friend...and I don't want to go back to a world where you're not in it...I..."

What is freedom if not the right to choose?

" ...I..." Your hands trembled, scratching that damn golden armor. 

What is freedom if not the chance to obtain what his heart desires the most?

"I...GODDAMIT! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU, YOU STUPID IDIOT! YUÁN FÈN I LOVE YOU!"

What is freedom to not stay with the one he loved?

His eyes glowed more than the sun that was disappearing in the horizon. His staff blasted away from every eye's view that damn circlet. The elder, in his calmness, seemed pleased.

He couldn't deel him anymore in your arma, but you were ingulfed in his own, strong and warm, capable of destroying and protecting you at the same time.

"I love you! I love you too!" His voice cracked, and tears started to erupt from his hips and eyes too. "I'm Sorry! I don't know how to bring you home! And... I don't think... I don't think I wanted too."

"It's allright!" Your smile was enough to warm his heart; your own tears shone with the sunlight. "Where are you supposed to go if you're not with me?"

"Say it again! I want to hear you again! Please!" He pleaded, holding you like your world was ready to claim again.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you."

His lips stopped your mantra, and you didn't need to keep it up because your lips met his own speed, holding him so close.

Your tears, your blood, everything merged in that veil of memories. And so, under the eyes of friends, celestials, and the world itself, two souls had claimed each other.

@sun-jglim

@sleepingdramaqueen

@crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers @certifiedsimpinggalore

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @dressycobra7 @virtualexpertanchor

@szynkaaa

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@weaverworks

@kirax-the-lazy-girl

[utilitycaster]

It's become stunningly clear with this most recent episode that Imogen and Laudna's insularity, mistrust of everyone else in the party, and refusal to take responsibility for their actions is at the heart of the disconnect and lack of bonding within Bells Hells. It is not the only reason - I think Orym's constant smoothing over of issues in the interest of forward motion has certainly exacerbated the situation - but it's a significant and unavoidable factor. I'm hoping that while the actual exercises of the team-building probably won't themselves fix the issues this party has, addressing the various secrets that are now out, specifically the ones that touch on issues that affect the functioning and dynamics of the entire group, actually might.

As this post notes, their unwillingness to question each other or develop any conflict resolution with each other means they tend to, even if unwittingly, dogpile the rest of the group by acting as a singular voice. In a small conflict-averse group, this tends to constantly overwhelm the conversation. This is worsened by Imogen's psychic abilities, which permit her to glean information about the others without the need to have a conversation; it means the others in the party frequently start with two votes against them before they've even said anything.

They also both suffer from a pretty profound lack of boundaries. Again, Imogen's psychic abilities are invasive, frequently unwelcome, and often lead her to both jump to conclusions and to police the behaviors of others without considering their actions nor giving them any chance to have a full conversation. It also means she controls what information the rest of the party knows, as her interpretation of someone else's mental state is the only thing they're given when she reads someone's mind. Laudna, meanwhile, is extremely quick to trust, while also taking any deception as profound betrayal. As a result, they both tend to take a hot-or-cold approach to the others in the party based on the other person's most recent thought or action. They are prone to black-and-white thinking and snap judgments, which, as the next paragraph indicates, has serious ramifications.

Imogen and Laudna are terrible about actually talking to people and getting anything out in the open. This includes each other; again, see their frequent unquestioning support or the claim that their relationship defies words (which it does not; as of last episode this has culminated in Imogen revealing that, in fact, she is disgusted by a fundamental reality of their relationship, which is absolutely not something that can be addressed without a pretty intense conversation.) We also see this in how they've taken Fearne's choice not to take the shard. While, arguably, they had heard Fearne express her concerns about the shard to Morri by the time of the honesty exercise (which would make their behavior even worse), even if they hadn't, that's two voices shaming her for without hearing her side of the story. It's in sharp contrast with Chetney, who also expresses his disappointment with Fearne in episode 3x78, but immediately follows it up by asking her why she didn't want it. Imogen and Laudna never take it upon themselves to ask her how she feels or why she made that choice and let her explain; they jump straight to judgement.

That failure to ask ties into the final element of why they are the weak point in Bells Hells' communication: they are just as guilty as Ashton of "violent projection of responsibility", but unlike Ashton have not realized the depth of this flaw and the consequences it has not just on their own life but on the others in the party. This is less of an issue with Imogen with regards to Bells Hells (in fact one might argue she takes far too much responsibility in that she apparently sees policing the party on the basis of their thoughts to be her duty, though I would note that unattuning the circlet leaves her, the person with the clearest ties to the Vanguard, vulnerable to the powers of others within the organization) and far more so with the gods, from whom she apparently expects instant gratification. However, this is at the core of Laudna. It's true that she is by no means the only powder keg within the party; Chetney and FCG's abilities are also dangerous. However, one must take into account that Laudna has been aware of Delilah's presence for, as she has repeatedly stated, over three decades now, and only now realized the implications thereof, whereas Chetney became a werewolf less than a year ago and immediately took steps to mitigate the threat he posed, and FCG only learned of their condition within the past few months. Like Chetney, she has learned to remove herself from situations in which she could pose an immediate threat, but that slow learning curve and lack of proactivity is not promising for the future. It's also true that, keeping all other circumstances identical, the impact of Laudna's loss of control is far more dangerous. If Chetney bites someone or FCG attacks, unless they kill someone, the damage and curse can be undone and the power within them is unchanged. The same is not true with regards to what happens if Delilah makes Laudna absorb a magical item or a soul.

While everyone in Bells Hells shares some responsibility for the current state of affairs, Imogen and Laudna are without a doubt the primary source of toxicity. I think the others have become aware that they are in an environment in which Imogen is likely to either shoot them down, read their minds nonconsensually, or make insensitive suggestions, and that Laudna will nod along next to her as she does. It does not feel coincidental that Fearne chose not to voice her concerns and that Ashton avoided the group conversation entirely. This again does not absolve Ashton or Fearne of their deception of the party, but it does explain why they might feel an honest conversation is impossible. Unpacking what was said during the Honesty exercise might finally allow Bells Hells to excise this rot and to begin a new era of group conversations in which everyone feels they can say what needs to be said without fear, but it will be an effort to be sure.

Because it's me, I think it's worth noting that the fandom emphasis on absolving Imogen and Laudna of any accountability (which I've spoken about at length and have had on my radar for a long time now) is obviously not the cause of this behavior in-game, but does echo it in interesting ways. I'm not sure I would have realized the extent to which they evade responsibility in-game without this mentality being so prominently in the fandom. It explains why they are never expected, by many fans, to even achieve as minor a task as "asking Fearne how she feels instead of letting their own feelings dominate what they think she should do", let alone set boundaries for each other. But ultimately, that is the key: I think the only way for this party to achieve the trust they need is through the assertion of those boundaries. When Bells Hells know that they have the freedom to disagree with each other without being accused, dogpiled, ignored, or told to get it together, only then will they be able to actually come to true consensus rather than the fragile and tenuous teamwork they have had so far.

[quitealotofsodapop]

OK!

Now ive seen the first two episodes of S5 and heres my gut reaction:

Wukong address that MK is a stone monkey like him - but he honeslty isn't sure how.

MK is super sleep-deprived from night terrors.

Macaque is living on FFM, covered in baby monkeys as per usual. Is def the more "rip the band-aid off"-sort of guy.

When Macaque worries on who brought back the Brotherhood - Wukong points out that Macaque sort of came back out of nowhere too, eliciting an angry growl from Mac. Hehehe spicy.

The noodle gang rebuild the hut!! Apparently after the mountain got messed up in S4, Wukong tried living in a hut made of his own hair.

Wukong hugs MK!

Pigsy notices that MK is eepy and instructs him to help make some noodle soup. Pigsy reminices about baby-MK, and smiles knowingly when MK immediately falls asleep after eating. Apparently that specific soup recipe is the one MK ate the first night he found him.

Also screenshot spoiler;

Dadsy and bby!MK! As I suspected, MK was a papoose baby.

All the monkey having nightmares before the Ten Kings portal they asses to Hell.

EP 2:

Li Jing's a dick. Nezha is too scared to even speak up to him.

Where's Xiwangmu? Shouldn't she be in charge? Or is it a patriarchal system since Li Jing is the Emperor's son-in-law?

Macaque screams and reaches for Wukong when he sees the circlet!!!

Monkey jail.

Nezha visits the monkeys and info-dumps the tale of the Heavenly Pillars - a story MK actually knows! He makes Wukong "act more like Tang" to tell the story. Tang be the parent that told MK fairytales!

MK points out that a Pillar of Creation was destroyed once - in the mythos it was an angry water god named Gonggong - and that maybe another forced is trying to destroy it.

Monkey prison break via trickery and hair clones.

Sandy's new truck gets KO'd by falling monkeys.

The monkeys are now fugitives.

Li Jing uses the Circle mantra to stall Wukong - and Macaque immediately attacks him!!! Looks like the theory that Macaque attacked Tripitaka for using the circlet might be true!!

Macaque uses a shadow portal to put MK and Wukong inside the gang's (repaired) truck, and rushes at Li Jing to keep him distracted.

Macaque is trapped inside Li Jing's pagoda. :(

The "hooded King" watches the whole thing and laughs. Why do I think this might be Nine-Heads?

Overall, i am cautiously hyper-fixating.

lots of shadowpeach fodder.

I saw a spoiler that says that sadly, Li Jing isn't the main villain. And that they sorta fumble Nezha's relationship with him - Li Jing is the Buck Cluck of lmk dads. Especially since trying to make Li Jing look like a good dad, when he literally tried killing Nezha like twice in the mythos, and Dadsy is right there. Damn filial piety.

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: Cats Among Wolves Cedric/Axel, Weird omegaverse war prize thing, Pirate Aiden & Prince Lambert

Cats Among Wolves Cedric & Axel:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning.

Weird omegaverse war prize thing:

The barbarian king sits on an unadorned stone throne on a low dais, glowering down at his court. He is almost as handsome as he is terrifying, with bone-white hair and glowing golden eyes and really remarkable chiseled features. He wears no mark of his rank, not even a circlet to bind back his hair, but Jaskier doesn’t think anyone could take him for anything but a king. His face is utterly impassive as he watches his warriors inspect their prizes.

Pirate!Aiden and Prince!Lambert

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Kett says after a minute. “She?” Lambert asks, wondering which of the sailors Kett means. “My Stripy Kitty,” Kett explains. “All ships are female.” “Why?” Lambert asks, frowning. It’s a boat. Kett chuckles. “Who the hell knows? Tradition, I guess. But she’s a beautiful bitch, my lovely Kitty.” “I know fuck-all about ships,” Lambert admits. “Want to learn?” Kett looks over to grin at him. “I bet we could make a sailor of you in a week.”

[willowed-wisp]

THE WAYWARD AND THE WARDEN - part one

previous | next

Cregan Stark x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, injury, threat… not too bad really

She was just a girl. Eighteen years of age.

A fresh university student on her Christmas holidays- venturing up to Scotland to be with her aunt and uncle.

Philippa had nothing. Parents gone…

At least the remaining family she had were kind, no children of their own to dote on.

She had living in Scotland for those past four years- venturing down south for her education - so she knew her way around.

Driving, “Just another left and then a right,” but the snow made it difficult to navigate; caught in a rife blizzard. One minute she was listening to rock music in her small Mini Cooper. Then the front bonnet was wrapped around tree bark. Philippa unaware as her skull bumped back against the seat’s head; she was dead to the world.

Not able to help a groan leave her lips, thrumming pounded against her temple. Philippa unable to feel the rest of her. Her lower half powdered with fresh fallen snow.

Where was her car? She had been wearing a seatbelt… why was she waist deep in the snow?

Philippa’s gaze burned by the iced haze, whatever she bored her eyes on happened to be a wasteland of frost. That wasn’t the same spot…

When she thought nothing of her body could be felt, fearing paralysis, a crackle of kindling spread her thigh. “Fuck…” looking down she found a bare leg, and a bare stomach… naked chest. And quite a splash of blood from where her fingers met her forehead.

But there was nothing except trenches of tundra for miles… “I’m gonna die here,” no she wasn’t, death would have to drag her by the ankles…

Despite the numbed ache waking throughout her skin, she laboured; dragging through knee deep snowfall and more piled up.

She could no longer feel that sting, unaware to the frostbite reigning of her flesh. “I’m not fucking dying here…” Toes numbed yet scorched. She had almost ignored the wall of ice up ahead, but it was the last thing she saw before a void of black.

It was warm?

Had she died?

Philippa felt at peace, crackling of a log fire to her left without the bitterness of the outdoors.

Fingertips wandered across soft fur while her eyes opened- wishful thinking came to an immediate shatter. A circlet chandelier, candlelit, above her with pure stone casting shadows above itself.

Similar to a castle- auntie Carol and Uncle Gyles made frequent day trips to visit historical monuments around the United Kingdom; her parents had shared that same interest, so she was well versed in the differences of Carlisle to Windsor.

She was in neither.

The girl sat up, covers gathered around her hips. She took in the room- plain yet plentiful. She found herself in a massive bed, standing candelabras casting light amongst the darkness of night. The fire place roaring prevented her from being frozen.

Snow dripped in flurries the other side of the windows.

Heaven nor Hell looked like that.

Where the fuck was she?

Eyes cast down into the folded pile of clothes, thick layers.

She wasn’t being tortured, it seemed she was a guest.

Philippa had been dressed in a simple white cloth gown. Alike the clothes placed down for her, they looked… medieval; lace-up dress and a thick cape which pooled on the ground.

Twas not an easy feat lacing the dress in lonesome, and she was pretty damned sure she had made a sham of it.

But she needed to get out of the room. No matter how calm she appeared on the surface, beneath she suffocated.

Along Philippa’s way down the intricate halls, barren stone. She bumped into a wide-shouldered, broad obstacle, “I’m sorry,” polite yet dismissive, she just needed to get some kind of sense.

She continued down the corridor. Lit by torched-sconces that flickered, while wind whipped behind her speeding paces.

‘Did that guy wear a wolf pelt?’ Shaking the thought to the wayside- not looking back.

It was a castle.

Not the largest she’s visited but that didn’t take away from the stone complex- mostly obscured by freezing mist.

Arms wrapped around herself, it felt like Scotland although it certainly was not. “Where am I?” She asked the neck-snapping breeze.

“The North,” A rough, rich voice boomed from the door behind. It was confident and foreboding- Philippa quivered in secrecy.

Ominous. “Of course I’m in the north, could you be more specific? Because it’s fucking chilly,” A hint of sarcasm and a sprinkle of jesting, wholly serious. Meanwhile her eyes focused on the silhouettes forward.

“You’re in Winterfell,” still as rough as steel.

That atmosphere was too heavy, “Is that near Glasgow? Because I need to be in Edinburgh…” Silence followed.

He didn’t seemed awfully amused.

Heaving steps- clanking of metal in sync. A charcoal section of fur had been the first thing in her peripheral.

That wolf pelt.

“I said I was sorry,” a squeaky to the man- almost a foot taller. And she wasn’t even short. Philippa couldn’t help but admire handsome features, made harsh and rugged by the murky light. That presence was unshakeable… a mountain of a man.

His eyes looked brown- though she could be mistaken. “Why were you over the Wall?” Philippa feared in utter bemusement. She’d never experienced that combination before.

“What-,” one movement made her flinch. But the one hand grappling her wrist, dragged her close to him- her chin raised staring into that icy gaze.

Teeth gritted while he spoke, “Why were you over the Wall?” Eyes made her cower.

Pleading with wide-eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man let her go but that closeness remained.

“You sound like a southerner… what’s your name?” Brows crossed and lips scowling. Maybe that was just him.

“Philippa.” He circled her slowly- studying her.

He stopped in front of her again, catching her in his gaze, “And what is it that you do, Philippa?”

She tried to put it into basic terms, “I’m a healer, i think you do things differently.”

He still frowned, “Maester Samm will hone your craft,” she simply nodded- shaking whether it be from the cold or the nerves. “Those chambers you woke in are yours, we’ve been in need of a healer for a while now.” Without a second word he brooded off.

Nobody would understand her predicament- if this ‘Winterfell’ was anything like the history she knew she’d be burnt at the stake as a witch. And being a healer wouldn’t aid her, but she was a quick learner and knew holistic approaches.

Philippa just needed an education on the herbs and flowers they had because if medicine was anything like the medieval age… she needed to know what was potent and what was outright deadly.

And so she went back to her room. Twiddling her thumbs until the morning.

A knock at the door, “come in.” Like a mouse but the person heard and the door creaked open. A long mop of black- gorgeously glossy.

Smile on her face, “I’m Melaine, and you must Philippa. You’re training with Maester Samn,” an accent similar to those of her aunt and uncle.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get much information about that…”

A laugh. “Lord Cregan doesn’t mince his words, never has, even when he was a wee ankle-biter,” free speaking like a Scotsman. “He’s a good man, but the North shapes a lad even if they are eight-and-ten,” the woman was much older than Philippa, probably in her forties which meant she had been in service more than two decades maybe three.

“He looks older,”

“It shapes them to have rough edges, lass,” the sky was clear- and though snow had settled none descended upon them. And so she could take in the massive gates; one in front and one to her right. “It’ll change you soon enough. Get rid of that politeness, make you more bold…”

A quizzical look from the teenager, “I doubt that. My parents, even as a child, called me a stubborn mule.”

“We’ll see about that as a healer in Winterfell… lads here draw swords like us maids light matchsticks…”

Melaine reminded Philippa of her auntie Carol- comforting and a safety blanket while Cregan Stark was something she wanted to hide from but she had a feeling they’d have a few run ins with each other whether that be locking heads or weaving stitches.

——————————

If you wanna be tagged leave a comment or message me! x

Hope that wasn’t too awful, I’m getting into the groove of writing again.

[isagrimorie]

I do think what’s being lost in the discussion of chronic pain in Bells Hells is how Ashton isn’t alone in this, before Imogen acquired the circlet, Imogen had chronic migraines.

Something Talieisin acknowledged when he commented: “Hey, tylenol!”

Its just Ashton and Imogen have different ways of coping but also it explains why Imogen was so gentle with Ashton after she and FCG went inside their head.

They both have invisible disabilities although most of the time I feel fandom forgets Imogen has chronic pain too.

I do like how in the recent 4SD Taliesin explained how he is deliberating playing Ashton as not dealing well and is lashing out and projecting every which way.

I like the prickly dynamic he developed for Ashton and Laudna, and the friendly poking at he has developed between Ashton and Imogen.

I do wish Ashton and Imogen also talked more on this. Or just spoke to each other more in general.

“I will be his vengeance.”

“I have no fucking doubt.”

(But also, in the 4SD, I very much appreciate Dani Carr and Taliesin’s discussions about their experiences with chronic pain).

[cloverjester]

! spoiler for season 4 episode 1 !

Okay gays, I think I cracked ShadowPeach. I tackled it kinda in my other theory but it doesn’t really hold up so I’ll repeat it here.

Wukong did not kill Macaque.

When the Memory Scroll opens and reveals those inky monsters, one of them turns into Macaque and says ,,You abandoned me,, as a mean to torment Wukong, which implies that the worst thing he has ever done to Mac is abandoning him.

In an interview with a former showrunner (Villads Spangsberg), when asked about their relationship, he responded ,,The most logical conclusion one can draw is that their conflict was built entirely on misunderstandings from both sides,,

David Breen, a co-producer, when asked whether Wukong killed Mac, responded with ,,That’s what Macaque thinks,,

Add the fact that Wukong seems completely unfazed by the fact that he killed a person and it becomes pretty apparent that Wukong did in fact not kill Mac. I am not sure who did it, it’s still a mystery, I suppose that we’ll need to wait until another seasons.

You want to know a not so funny thing tho?

From Monkey King’s prespective he got imprisoned against his will with a torture device (circlet) for god knows how many years, and Macaque just shows up acting like a little bitch and causing trouble for no apparent reason

From Macaque’s perspective he got betrayed, blinded and then murdered by one person he loved most, and after his resurrection Wukong acts like nothing ever happened

That’s why they hate each other - they both have been trough hell but don’t realize the other one has been trough it too

That’s why communication is important kids

[shorthaltsjester]

maybe i’ll write something longer about this at some point but the choice that bell’s hells made in terms of which activity to do first i feel like actually illuminates some of the party’s issues and is why (particularly their truths) it seems like parts of the activities might just exacerbate their issues. like in particular the choice to do honesty before communication because honesty is required for communication is an interesting choice. like on the one hand i understand the logical steps and reasons they have for that, but on the other where imogen just took of her circlet in demand of honesty without insisting on communication as well and where orym had a conversation with ashton insisting that ashton know the group truly cares for him but also incidentally implying that ashton shouldn’t communicate the extent of whatever demons he’s fighting because it will get in the way of the fight on the horizon… i think perhaps communication is the first step for this group.

because the group has honesty, very recent events aside — and even the ashton and fearne lying thing was Very very short term — what they don’t do is communicate around that honesty. imogen in particular is immensely honest but often expresses it in ways i wouldn’t consider communicating in any beneficial sense, which i think also tracks for how willing she was to be honest. the problem for the group tends to come in that there are various degrees of willingness to communicate and several different modes of communication that they’re trying to use that aren’t cogent with the group actually communicating as a group.

and this isn’t malicious or ‘fault’ of any one member in a pejorative sense — the ones i think tend to be the ones who make it hardest for the group to combine honesty and communication have very understandable reasons for the forms of communication they lean towards. imogen’s bluntness because of her association of thought with character given her access to peoples thoughts as much as the expression of them, fcg’s similar but not identical habit of taking in everyone’s emotions and suggesting solutions but not actually really having conversations around those experiences/emotions (tho this is changing), fearne’s reluctance to express any discontent or fear about what’s happening in the group but willingness to lie to avoid those fears, orym’s tendency for simply pushing through problems due to his own experience with grief (which as other users on here have aptly explained is not a good emotional solution for many things other than grief). so while they all have rationales for the communication/willingness towards honesty they posses, it’s definitely still the responsibility of all of them to find ways to communicate that allow them to work as a group.

obviously i cannot predict the future and i don’t like doing serious predictions about the show in anyway because a) i think it’s useless and boring but b) literally anything can happen. that said, i do think that the honesty challenge As The First challenge might’ve had the effect of just being the exact same thing the hells have been doing for the past 3(?) in game months. which, the rapidity of everyone’s confessions paired with the other two challenges and the recent Heightening of the Circumstances will hopefully mean that they deal with it some way - whether that’s resolving problems or further party fracturing i’m excited to see.

[libby-for-life]

I wanna see more greek mythology au 🥺 also i wonder what happens if like at some point Charlie and the crew or like Sera and such meets him again😙

Read the other Greek Mythology au first.

Previously: The entirety of Hell shakes and splits open as twelve-foot-tall people radiating power and light storm in, all wielding weapons that, despite not being angelic weapons, are powerful enough to kill sinners.

They will find Persephone.

Meanwhile, Lucifer soon catches wind of these godly beings and goes to confront them. He sees Adam for the first time since the dawn of Eden and nearly has a heart attack. Adam. The First Man. He was back.

And he was PISSED

Adam spots the one he feels is in charge, pointing his scythe at him. "WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!"

Lucifer too stunned to speak for a moment just stares at Adam. Then he reels back.

"Wait...who?"

"PERSEPHONE! WHERE IS SHE?!"

"Oh dear gods, this place is a mess." A man with what looks like a war helmet says.

"I love war as much as the next person, but this seems...excessive..."

A man in black with a gold circlet looks disgusted. "Is THIS what they think my domain is?!" (Hades has always been salty about the miscommunication of the Underworld)

"I have much more class then this!"

"Please, focus you two." A woman with long blonde hair says. She carried a spear and looked wise beyond her years.

Adam just stalks up to Lucifer, radiating the feeling of a famine, a sweltering summer, wildfires started from his angry breath

He giveth mankind his bounty, he taketh is away just as fast

"WAIT! I don't know who this person is, but I can help you find her! Did her soul pass through here?"

This only made Adam angry. "A goddess doesn't die." His fury is controlled but Lucifer could tell that this...glowing new Adam wanted to pummel him.

"Yes. Besides, Earth needs her. Without her, Spring can't come." A man wearing a tunic said and...was he carrying a...lightning bolt? Interesting weapon choice.

Lucifer heard rumors of the Earth taking on sentient life of its own, but he didn't believe it. These were Primordials! They held just as much power as the Elders so long as they were on Earthly domain. They were literally gods.

And...Adam was one of them?

"Are you this realm's leader?" The female said, shifting the weight of her spear. "If what you say is true about you helping us, then you WILL provide."

Hades steps up. This may not be his realm, but he is STILL Lord of the Dead. "Speak, or I will have every soul here tear and burn this place to the ground before turning them up on you."

Lucifer shivered. He could tell that he wasn't lying. "Yes. I am their King. If Persephone is here and not a lost soul, I will help you find her and bring out of Hell."

Adam looked at the man. He seemed familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He supposed it didn't matter. If he didn't get Persephone back, then he was going to flood this place and then burn it into the ground. They didn't call him The Reaper for nothing.

"How about, while we search, I can offer you a place to stay? My daughter runs a hotel."

Charlie did not expect Dad to show up with the fucking Primordials

"Uh...welcome?"

Hades is beyond offended at the lack of structure in the afterlife. "Why the fuck isn't this place more organized?! So much chaos! Why aren't they on the reincarnation route?"

"Hu? Reincarnation?" Charlie asked confused.

"YES! If you're not an absolute beast of a human being, you reincarnate! Attain a good life three times and you get Eternal Paradise!"

Athena just shakes her head and gathers her brothers towards some open seats. A snap of her fingers makes them fit better so they can all sit down. They needed to know the layout of Hell. She knew strategies like the back of her hand.

"Now. You're the Princess of Hell?" Athena asked Charlie before a small one-eyed woman pointed a spear at her.

Athena tilted her head. "You will do well to lower your weapon child. Before I show you the power of a Goddess."

Ares laughs. "This one! I like her!" Taps Vaggie's spear, turning it gold and giving it a more wicked design. "This will draw more blood from your foes!"

Vaggie stumbles back and looks at her spear. Athena looked at her in the eyes and suddenly she saw her literal life flash before her eyes. This Goddess meant business....she shouldn't threaten someone this powerful. "You always did like the brave." Hades said.

"Brave or foolish?" Athena said with one more glance before turning to Charlie. "Well, are you the Princess or not?"

"I...I am. Uh, how can I help you?"

"My daughter, Persephone has gone missing. She was kidnapped and taken here." Adam said. "I can sense her here but I don't know where exactly....too many layers here."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Persephone... I've heard that name before."

"You should," Zeus said. "She's the Goddess of Spring. She's what brings that Earth beauty."

Some silence.

"....I thought Demeter was a woman."

Adam turned to what looked at what seemed to be a spider demon. "I've been depicted as such. I prefer the male form better." His form flickered and he turned into...well....a she. A well-endowed woman who looked regal and beautiful as she was angry. The form flickered and Adam was male again. "Demeter is one name I go by. Only my family calls me Adam."

Angel blinked. "So you're male leaning gender fluid. Cool."

Adam tilted his head. "If that helps you comprehend it better."

"No, that's Zeus, the God of Whores"

Zeus gasped at Ares.

"No, you're thinking of Apollo."

"What do you know of the layers here?" Adam asks.

Ares turns to Lucifer. "Anyway, shortsack, we didn't catch your name."

Adam glared at the interruption but looked to the King who was been...quite for some time.

Adam blinked. Something was digging at his memory. Something he wanted to forget...."The layers, Princess. What do you know of them?"

It's better to not dwell on the past.

Only, his family exchanged glances behind his back before they turned unreadable looks to the King of Hell. Adam might not remember chose not to but they remembered when Adam was young and innocent. Back when he would cry about how his two friends left him. Lucifer and Lilith. Two uncommon names that humans don't typically call their children.

[imminent-danger-came]

So, this parallel, right.

That parallel and the 4x11 shadowpeach fight as a whole:

Macaque: "No that's YOU! You're the one always running off! Looking for more power, more sources of immortality—you're the one who wouldn't quit while were were ahead! Not the great sage, he's got to drag EVERYONE else into his mess!" Sun Wukong: "You're not in this mess, you're still free! Everything I did was for us!" Macaque: "You did it for yourself! You've become like this, obsessive demon! I told you going against the Jade Emperor was a bad idea, but no, Wukong doesn't listen to anyone! He just does whatever he wants! You put yourself here, not me."

(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

-

A large part of Wukong's motivation to keep getting more power was the freedom of it—the more power you have the easier it is to do whatever you want. It's easier to ignore everyone else and focus solely on yourself. It's also easier to ensure yourself and your loved one's are protected and have the ability to do what they want.

So, a punishment where the great Monkey King is imprisoned and trapped for hundreds of years? It's effective and tragic and fitting. Wukong wanted to have the freedom to protect the people he cared about, and in trying to reach for the power to do that, he completely had his freedom removed. He went from the mountain, to then the circlet, and then all of a sudden he had morals and was bound to those.

And then I think about his end of s3 choice to go face the Lady Bone Demon alone. Once again Wukong was trying to protect his loved ones (not to mention the whole reason he went after the Samadhi fire to begin with was to have the power, the freedom to stop LBD (which in itself is another case of SWK believing he needed to be stronger for such freedom)), but he also wanted to make sure MK and himself both had agency. He didn't want MK to have to fight LBD, and he didn't want LBD to end the world.

This is exactly the sentiment he tells Macaque in the 4x11 flashback:

Sun Wukong: "It's so we don't have to worry about anything or anyone ever again! Just living a lazy life, sitting in the sun, eatin' fruit, and doing whatever we want!"

But where does it all lead him?

To possession, imprisonment. Once again Wukong no longer had the freedom to do what he wanted (which is to protect the people he cares about). Once again in his attempts to help his loved one's, he only hurt them.

This can be applied to his relationship with Macaque, to MK in s2, hell, even Wukong trying to get the map in the first place left him powerless, which then led to him and the gang being imprisoned in 3x02. It's a familiar pattern, one we see with antagonist and protagonist alike.

MK in s2 trained to become more powerful, which in the end only strengthened LBD and forced him and his friends on the run. Mei in 3x12 protects MK by letting herself get captured and placed into LBD's crystal. Mei in 4x05 goes to protect MK, breaking her sword and leaving her vulnerable to being captured by Kui Mulang ("How am I supposed to protect everyone without my sword?"). DBK reached for more power and then became possessed by LBD, hurting his wife and son. Azure reached for the Jade Emperor's power and bound himself to that role, jeopardizing Peng and Yellowtusk in the process.

It's a cycle of reaching for power, endangering others, and then being imprisoned.

So anyways, here's why MK is going to lose control (his agency) next season and hurt his friends with his own- *get's shot*

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

I've been thinking about Imogen for a bit, and I'm wondering if there's a part of her that longs to be acceptable, like in a general sense. Because she's certainly been accepted by the Hells, and Deanna and Frida, but she also spent a good portion of her young adulthood being uncontrollably privy to the thoughts people don't say out loud, and almost certainly many of these thoughts were about her, and likely weren't kind in a lot of instances. So I wonder if there's some part of her that wishes she was the kind of person people don't think those kind of thoughts about.

She tells her father, "I don't want you to be afraid of me, Daddy." She discovered that her circlet allows her to exist comfortably in cities while she was in Uthodurn, but she doesn't feel like it's appropriate to feel so happy about something in the middle of a crisis, so she only brings this fact up once, in a private conversation.

But at the same time, she's been increasingly embracing her powers (and has always used them pretty readily). She told her father she didn't want him to be afraid of her telepathically, and is constantly listening in to people's thoughts if she thinks it will give her any amount of information. I wonder if this is why she's been so snappish about clerics recently, they get to be acceptable AND have and use their powers. Whereas for Imogen it seems like she has to choose. She can have her powers and be off-putting to everyone around her, or she can be acceptable, but not use her powers in the way that she wants.

[utilitycaster]

Unpopular opinion: parts of the cr fandom are really dismissive/ reductive of Travis’s characters. It feels like it’s due to Travis being seen as THE cis het man of the group, and by extension his characters must be heteronormative and bad, despite the fact that you could have queer interpretations of his characters. At the very least, Travis’s characters explore masculinity and the different ways it might look. It’s like the people who are all “ew men are gross and shitty” and act like that’s an absolutely normal reaction to a man just existing.

So this is another one in that I agree with the initial statement, but I'm actually not sure re: the reasoning why. I think it's possible but I could not tell you for sure.

I used to, again, think this was people carrying through Campaign 1 elements well beyond the point where C1 had ended, and so Grog having an intelligence of 6 was being applied to Travis; and this definitely does come through to an extent when people treat Fjord (objectively as smart as Beau without her circlet) as stupid or act shocked that Chetney is the brains of Bells Hells or that he can play a Cerrit, Fjord, or Nathaniel. However, again, I think this is one of those opinions that pops up among people who weren't around for Campaign 1 (or early enough in C2 to be exposed to it regularly) so I don't know if that's the case anymore. It could still be - it could be that Approved Fandom Opinions get passed down even when the logic behind them has long since been lost; that's a really common thing in institutional memory. But I can't say for sure.

I also have in the past credited it to, as you said, people assuming his characters are the cishet guys and then writing them off. That's still possible - I've seen both Fjord and Chetney called "token straight" despite considerable evidence of bisexuality, and they also paradoxically are both commonly headcanoned as trans while still getting called "token straight," which sort of ties into a post I would need to find from someone else from quite some time ago about which cast members are granted agency by the fandom in their choices vs. which are assumed to be the victims of circumstance. And I do think that there are people in fandom who have decided men are icky or whatever, and I used to think this came from a place of bigotry and a slide towards t*rf ideology but I now do genuinely think it's just idiots who don't grant interiority to characters outside their own limited understanding.

But I think it's also useful to consider a few things, most of which I've brought up before:

Travis is extremely offline. He is not here to entertain your headcanons; he has been politely but openly dismissive of some (imo, really fucking dumb) fanon/fan theories. I think the cast frequently talks about how it's their table, and I think that's valid and correct, but Travis is one of the players who lives it the most. He is playing this game with his friends, and he'd like it to be a good story, but if you don't like it, he is not here to make you like it. I think that really fucks with the parasocial connections some people desire with the cast.

Travis's characters tend to examine masculinity as a performance but also the general performance of the self, and the fact that you cannot in the end control how you are perceived entirely, and I think that really unsettles people who have equated presentation with reality and are again, looking for external validation of the self.

Travis can play it big but he's often extremely subtle, especially with his more serious characters, and he's not as easily quotable out of context as some others at the table. I think because he is a lot more naturalistic than dramatic at times (Chetney notwithstanding) and isn't as pithy and quotable in his characters as many of Taliesin's PCs are, and a lot of the strength is in the delivery, he gets overlooked despite being very good with words on the fly.

And finally: this would be a whole post on its own but people are still very foolishly wed to this idea that pressing the big red button in D&D is Wild and Chaotic and haha Big ADHD Man when it's actually how you play D&D if you're not a coward; the button is where the story is stored, and a lot of Travis's strength is that he is extremely good at understanding what the GM wants and supporting it with sufficient grace that it's only visible if you know what you're fucking doing.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Alsowe beentalkingin the notes, but this deserves its own ask. Imagine, just a moment, Xiwangmu and Jade Emperor's reaction to Wukong's miscarriage. Both when the event happens... and later on, when a very pregnant Sun Wukong stands before them pleading for sanctuary when the Lady Bone Demon threatens him and his second unborn cub, and during the proceeds, they discover who Wukong's mother was.

On one hand, the Jade Emperor's actions had directly led to Wukong being on that Journey, had he and the Buddha not sealed him under the mountain or had he been more patient or merciful towards Wukong, more understanding, the monkey might never have lost his first born. The sheer guilt he must have felt when he learned of the miscarriage.

On the other, Wukong is now standing before him, humble in a way he had never seen the monkey in his entire life, pregnant with a rainbow baby, and pleading for help to keep them safe. And then, shortly after pledging his assistance, he discovers that Wukong had, in fact, been his spirit grandchild this entire time! This means that child he still felt guilty and remorse for all these years later... enough to promise one of his greatest enemies of all time his protection... had been his firstborn great-grandson.

And that's just the emperor. That's nothing on how Xiwangmu feels. She'd already inadvertently cursed her female heirs to have difficult pregnancies, and now she discovers that false to the sole male heir that are capable of procreation without a partner amd he had already lost a cub once.

Prev. Lots of talking in the Notes.

Recap: Once Macaque realises that LBD will stop at nothing to be free and enact her plans for world destruction, he decides that he must find a way to prove that he's sorry to the person he's hurt the most. So he asks Guanyin to give him the Circlet to ensure that he can never hurt Wukong, his child, or his friends, ever again.

This act convinces Wukong (and somewhat the others) that Macaque is being honest in his remorsefulness. But he isn't quite back to speaking terms just yet.

Of course LBD still gets loose, manipulating a fiery little bull calf who just wanted his family to be happy and whole again in to using her Skeleton Key.

And with Bull still imprisoned and Wukong too weakened in his condition to free him, there's no chance of reforging the Samadhi Fire.

So Sun Wukong, along with his reincarnated Pilgrim brothers and his new allies (and his former-mate, arrested by Nezha), comes before Heaven and Hell seeking help in saving the world.

The courts ask him for why he cannot defeat the White Bone Spirit as he'd done before, only for the Great Sage to reluctantly explain that he is with child and cannot fight her in his condition.

The silence inside the courtroom is deafening.

For you see, Xiwangmu was privy to the loss of Wukong's First Egg the moment he cried out to the Heavens at also losing his mate. She had not known he was able to carry young, but was heartbroken on his behalf nonetheless. The Jade Emperor too felt remorseful, the monkey he had punished so severely sobbing into his wife and daughters' arms at the loss of both his child and mate. The Jade Emperor find himself crying too, him and his wife know the pain of a parent losing their child all too well.

So now there's Sun Wukong the once self-declared Great Sage Equal to Heaven, before them once more after nearly five centuries of hiding. His belly round (a "Rainbow Baby" the Ao-Long family calls it) and his eyes watery as he pleads for their help.

Macaque still receives a gruelling Trial. Xiwangmu in particular is not forgiving of the actions that lead to the loss of Wukong's first child. Luckily the Ten Kings and Kṣitigarbha are there to explain the shadow monkey's sheer guilt and grief at learning of the First Egg's existence, and how his despair was so great that something older than Diyu itself had consumed him. And how his soul soared to revive after it was announced that the child was soon to be reborn. The actions of a remorseful mate and future father (both eggs still containing his dao) wishing for penance from his immortal mate in order to reunite with them in the world of the living.

The fact that Macaque was willing to bargain his soul to a primordial Bone Demon is forgiven given his reasoning to return.

The world below continues to freeze and crumble as Sun Wukong and his allies plea for Heaven's assistance.

The Jade Emperor gives the command for the armies of Heaven to begin chipping away at the Bone Demon's corruption. Xiwangmu barely has time to come forward and bless Wukong's child when the heroes leave to join the fight.

A lot of chaos happens on the ground. The Bone Demon becomes frustrated that her threats of death and attempts of control do not work on Macaque, the Circlet on his head incapacitating him with a single syllable from Nezha, Tieshan, or Tang's lips. He smiles at the demon through clenched teeth as she tries to drag his limbs forward, accepting the pain of the Circlet if it means he can no longer hurt his allies.

The Thrall is quickly dealt with. Sandy still has yet to take his vow of pacifism when he gets his hands on the smiling puppet that's been harassing his friends the last couple of months.

So LBD decides to do the next best thing. If she needs the Harbinger's soul to complete her weapon, what's better than possessing it's power-drained parent?

Wukong and Macaque are forced to fight once more, this time in order for Macaque to save Wukong and the Egg from LBD's possession. LBD's hold is broken when Macaque grabs Wukong's hands, interlocking them with his own, and places them against the King's round stomach. Kicks so strong and healthy that both cannot help to feel and hear it. Wukong sobs with joy, his baby and his mate are truly alive once more!

LBD screams and rushes towards Wukong - deciding that if she cannot destroy this world, she will destroy the simian or his whelp once and for all.

A sky-shattering roar erupts as a massive war-form of a Spiritual Monkey endures the demoness's strike.

But it's not Wukong.

Macaque proves in this moment that he is truly Sun Wukong's equal. In front of Heaven, Hell, Earth, their troop, and more importantly; Wukong himself.

Not much is left of LBD for the Ten Kings to collect. They grant Macaque an aquittal for neutralizing a threat to all the Realms, allowing him to remain on Earth with his mate and future child.

As the adrenalin drops, Macaque reverts to his normal form, now painted with sickly blue vines and patches of fur bleached white from the attack of death magic. Through his pain, he asks Wukong if he and the Egg are ok. Wukong wraps his arms around his mate for the first time in millennia, sobbing with thanks and relief.

The Egg continues kicking violently as it's parents reconcile, annoyed by all the disturbance. Eventually it decides that it should make it's presence known in a *louder* way.

(*Wukong still hugs Macaque tight*) Macaque, ears flickering: "What's that water balloon sound?" Wukong: "Huh? What water-" Wukong: (*look of realisation and terror as his water breaks*) Guanyin, teleporting onto the scene: "IT'S GO TIME PEOPLE."

And of course you can imagine the joy and tiredness that follows in the birth of "Little Heaven". And the uncertainty when both of their parents are put on tight medical observation, Wukong from nearly dying in childbirth, and Macaque from his injuries. All of Heaven adn Hell seems to come forward to aid the small family's survival.

Pigsy ends up being the only one able to calm and feed the crying newborn in absence of their parents. Tieshan nearly moves back into the palace as she helps tend to her brother-in-law and his family, not caring if all of the Celestial Realm sees her or her half-demon child. Guanyin sits like a vigil over the two monkeys, rarely even moving out of fear of missing their awakening.

Xiwangmu becomes suspicious of her reincarnated daughter's attitude during this time and decides to investigate some things in the Underworld. And of course you can imagine how her and the Jade Emperor feels when they discover that Wukong's own mother was the first reincarnation of the same lost eldest daughter. And that the very child Wukong had lost all those years ago was their first great-grandchild. And how much they feel guilt at the fact Xiwangmu's curse had spread to her grandson - taking his both his mother and his first child, while even nearly taking his life in the birth of his second.

Xiaotian - the "Little Heaven" - is almost literally a rainbow in the lives of everyone who encounters him from then on.

[unicyclehippo]

as a prompt: imogen and laudna and images of vex?

there are people sitting on the tempest’s bed when they return. keyleth’s skin is split and red and it’s awful to see except when you love her enough that pain means alive, means here enough to hurt.

these strangers love keyleth. they sit on her bed as people who are welcome to it, they hold her staff and she trusts them to take the place of her powerful artefact, to help her to her feet when she struggles to stand—scarred hands in scarred hands—and laudna considers the few of her own people who have carried her (dead) and carried her (alive) and offered a helping hand and knows keyleth loves them too.

it takes some minutes for laudna to realise they are not strangers at all.

‘lady vex’ahlia,’ imogen greets warily. and then, ‘lord de rollo.’

‘bells hells,’ lady vex’ahlia returns in much the same tone, wary as everyone is these days. her tone softens tremendously when she says laudna’s name, alone. laudna trembles. imogen takes her hand. lord de rollo looks at her too, too keen. then orym speaks, and keyleth, and there’s flowers and busy work as tinctures and healing begins and laudna mostly is thinking about the fact that they’re inside of a tree and how funny that is, really, because sometimes she turns treelike herself, and it’s a bit strange to be a dead woman inside a tree that’s inside a dead woman inside a tree.

she smiles, touches imogen’s elbow. ‘might we go outside, darling?’

orym glances over—the quickness of mental communique that laudna so admires, and misses, the crackle of imogen’s thoughts so bright and light and powerful—and he nods and there’s something in his gaze that makes laudna think she ought to say something, but fear is a starving rat eating her tongue, which is awful, isn’t it, because she can’t speak while it’s there but it’s better for everyone if she keeps her mouth shut so they don’t see the tongue and the rat and the cavern and the rat can’t get out and it can’t bite anyone but her and she doesn’t really need a tongue anyway she’s dead after all so why deal with the blood and pity when she could just eat the rat and be done with it. also, there’s a beautiful woman whose ears are uncut into points who is her reflection, brilliant life billowing out from her, sun-warm, and she’s watching her, and laudna thinks she might cry or perhaps scream if this woman gets a glimpse of laudna’s insides.

imogen loops their arms together. they walk outside like lovers do, beneath trees bejewelled with flowers and buds. the fabric of their dresses brush together as they walk. their hands do not part.

‘are you alright?’

laudna keeps her mouth closed. the rat is gone, she doesn’t think it was real, but she’s not sure about the state of her tongue.

imogen touches her own forehead, the circlet there. ‘do you ever think of her?’ she asks. ‘that lady?’ when laudna nods, imogen sighs. ‘i wish… i wish so much hadn’t happened to you. i wish it couldn’t hurt you anymore.’

‘if it’d never happened, we wouldn’t be here,’ pate says, crawling out from his house. he perches on the roof, balancing with paws against the faux-chimney—laudna knew it was ornament only because she’d taken pate’s eyes as her own and they’d clambered through the space together, small and secure, and pried into each expert corner until they were satisfied. ‘and then you wouldn’t get to explore wi’ her. an’ by explore—‘

‘don’t you finish that thought,’ laudna snaps.

‘—o’ course i mean explore her body,’ pate chortles. he has to launch into the sky when laudna tries to grab at him, palm full of dark lightning. ‘oh fuck! don’t - laudna!’

‘get back here! apologise to imogen!’

pate hides behind imogen, wings flapping, chortling. ‘won’t!’

‘you will! right now!’

‘won’t! can’t make me!’

‘i did make you, you - you - you little beast!’ she races around her - girlfriend? her imogen - who spins, laughing, keeping herself between laudna and pate.

they’re drawing eyes. who could possibly be laughing, loving out in the open? who could possibly dare draw the ire of the red, glaring moon? imogen catches laudna’s clawing hands in hers, holds her. pate crawls up purple hair, splays, exhausted, atop her head.

‘do you think she knows?’ laudna gives voice to her fear. ‘what i am? what i did?’

‘how could she?’

‘she could be watching. me. if she suspects, if he does… she did such terrible things to them, darling, and i am—i literally embody that for them.’ imogen is shaking her head but laudna doesn’t see it; sees the tree, and the de rollo’s, and the shadow of the blossom tree with its curling branches stretches out in front of the sinking sun like a grasping hand. ‘i’m afraid, imogen,’ she admits, mouth open, everything soft and bitten and hurting on full display. imogen looks right into her eyes, her mouth. she sees everything. nothing changes. imogen still holds her hands, still holds her close.

‘what are you afraid of? that they’ll try and hurt you?’ imogen shakes her head. ‘i won’t let them. we won’t. you’re not bad, laudna, and you’re not her.’

‘but she’s in here. she’s back, i did that—‘

‘did you ever think that you didn’t let her in? that she was waiting out there in the dark and when you were scared and hurt, she let herself back in?’ imogen reaches up. strokes the hair back from her face. which does nothing, because the wind is fierce and playful and endless here in zephrah. ‘you’re not to blame for the fact that she hurt you. and if they blame you for that,’ she says, tilting her head back to the tree, ‘they’re wrong.’

‘she hurt them too.’

‘i don’t care.’ she didn’t. laudna could see it. oh, she cared enough for them—hearing what had been done to whitestone and the family there was dreadful and imogen had a sweet heart—but the care was dwarfed, obliterated, by how she cared for laudna. it did not compare. how could it? what was as a single raindrop to the scorching desert, a handful of gravedirt to the mountain. what was sympathy to the way imogen loved her?

‘i don’t want to see her today,’ laudna says, and helps to tie back imogen’s hair with red string. ‘can it be as it was, once? the two of us?’

‘oí.’

‘three of us,’ she amends, and when imogen laughs, and kisses her—hidden from their friends behind the huts—laudna glances over to ruidis, smouldering on the horizon, and smiles. it would all be alright, eventually; after all, what was the red moon to the way she loves imogen?