#end where we ended and I know he did too. DA…is a tragedy… anyway I miss the looming terror of trying to protect my husband from pulling a

[ziracona]

I want to replay DA2; I miss my husband Anders so much and it was so fun but. Literally how will I ever make it past All That Remains again. The first pass nearly killed me. But I can’t beat Act 2 without it. But I can’t go through that again. But I have to replay DA2. But I’ll die. But I-

[chocolatecakecas]

Quality Family Time: Baby Jack ficlet

for the bah discord besties<3

In Dean's humble opinion, the week was off to a pretty good start. Sunday, he and Cas took Jack to the library and let him go wild in the children's section, then let him run off his "excitement about literature" in the park, ending with lunch at their favorite diner, which is Dean's humble opinion qualifies as a pretty great Sunday afternoon. And then Sammy and Eileen finished up their hunt earlier than expected, and they even brought back Claire and Kaia as a surprise. Meaning they got to all have a much-needed family dinner, movie night, and catch up with the girls. And they decided to stay for a few days, which meant extra babysitters, which really meant, he and Cas could have their date night this week. And of course it also meant Dean had a few days to just hang out with his family, watch some movies, watch his kids bond, run some stupid errands, cook some big meals. 

Now it was Wednesday, and Dean was spending the day with Eileen and Jack, while the others opted to help Sam with the supply run. Eileen was getting a movie queued up for Jack's nap, while Dean got a start on some laundry.  

(read the rest under the cut)

He was currently running out to the garage to grab the blanket he keeps folded in Baby's trunk, smiling fondly at the memory of Monday's date night.  

So yeah as far as Wednesdays go, Dean was having a pretty good one.

At least, he was.

Dean's stomach dropped as he flicked the lights on, barely registering the clang of his keys hitting the floor, standing frozen in the doorway.  

He's hallucinating, he must be. There's absolutely no way that-

He squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten while he tried to will away the hallucination with his mind. But unfortunately for Dean, he didn't have that kind of mind power, because that thing was still sitting there when he opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Forcing his feet to move, Dean stepped further into the garage, reaching out a shaking hand as he inched forward. 

He'll just touch it and his hand will go through it, and he can blame this hallucination on that questionable burger he ate at some local joint they all went to last night. It'll be fi-

Dean's blood turned to ice as his hand connected with cool metal. He quickly jumped back in shock, jaw hitting the floor.

Because last time he checked, Dean didn't leave an 18 foot long Lightning McQueen sitting in his beloved Baby's parking spot. 

He tried to speak but all that came out was an incoherent squeak, as he raced around the car inspecting every inch of it.

He couldn't get any of the doors open or the hood for that matter, but as far as he could tell it seemed to be a real car, despite being a cartoon look-a-like. 

Well, at least it wasn't talking. 

"Ka-chow"

Dean slumped over onto the roof of the car, banging his head, fists following in defeat.

Because there was a Lightning McQueen look-a-like with a toy voice box, parked in the garage of their super top-secret underground Bunker, in place of one of his most prized possessions. 

Maybe he spoke too soon about having a pretty good Wednesday. 

Why is this happening? How did this thing get in here? Where is his Baby? Is she alright? Can he even get her back? How the hell did this ev-

Son of a bitch. 

"Jack!" Dean called, voice coming out more strangled than he'd care to admit. 

Of course. Cars had become Jack's new obsession over the past week, they first watched it on Friday night and he's insisted on watching it at least once a day ever since. 

Dean groaned scrubbing his hands down his face. There's truly never a dull moment with a half-Nephilim toddler. 

Jack probably didn't even realize what happened. Sometimes his powers react before his mind can catch up with them, like when he subconsciously made all of his toys come to life after Toy Story became his favorite movie. The kid probably didn't even know about the Cars wannabe parked in the garage, besides his kid would never tamper with Bab-

"Dee! You found Lightning!" 

Dean's jaw once again found its way back down to the floor. His own kid.

He turned to see his four-year-old come bounding into the garage, practically bursting with joy.

"What the hell"

Dean tore his gaze away from Jack to see Eileen frozen in the doorway, who's jaw also joined Dean's on the floor. 

"Look see it's just like Lightning, Dee!" Jack cheered as he ran over to check out the car, regaining Dean's attention.

"Uh...ye-yeah buddy. I-I can see that bu-" Dean began sounding pained, only to be cut off by Jack.

"It's a real car, Dee. You can drive it! And look I gots all the stickers on it too"

"Yeah kiddo, bu-"

"And it can talk too! It says all of Lightning's things! Do you like it Dee? Where you surprised?" Jack asked as he wrapped himself around Dean's legs, smiling up at him without a care in the world.

Dean still mostly in shock, glanced up at Eileen who looked to be in the same boat, except she was holding back barely contained laughter. 

Great no help from his best friend, traitor. So Dean shakily knelt down placing his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Listen, Squirt. I was definitely surprised. But yo-"

"Oh my god"

Dean's head jerked up to see Sam, Cas, Claire, and Kaia now standing with Eileen in the doorway, dropped grocery bags spilling out onto the floor. All of them too stunned to move, except for Cas who luckily must have noticed the distress in Dean's eyes.

"Jack, Baby. What is this?" Cas asked, quickly making his way over to them, quickly kneeling down beside Dean.

"I made Baby into Lightning! Ta da!"

"Wait, that thing is my Baby?" Dean asked voice cracking. 

And of course, that's what did it.

Sam doubled over in laughter, Eileen, Claire, and Kaia quickly following, and Cas was beside him, clearly trying to conceal his laughter.

"God this is the best thing I've ever seen" Sam wheezed in the background, and if Dean weren't still reeling he'd walk right over and punch him. 

Cas placed a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, all while trying to bite back his smile. Well, Dean appreciated the gesture, at least he was trying to be considerate, unlike some people he knew.

"Bug, do you remember what Daddy and I told you about using your powers?" Cas begins, trying and failing to sound stern.

"That I can't make my toys be alive! And I didn't Baby isn't alive, and she's not even a toy!" Jack explains with a smile. 

"Yea-yeah Squirt, but the second part of that little talk was that you shouldn't use your powers unless you ask Daddy, or me, or Uncle Sammy or Aunt Eileen, remember?" Dean supplied after he finally got his gears spinning again.

"Ooooohhh. Oops, sorry!"Jack shrugs and he even had half a mind to at least look a little bit sorry, but it's drowned out by another fresh wave of laughter.

"I'm so glad we decided to stay longer, does stuff like this happen all the time?" Kaia laughed behind him, as Claire wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad my distress is amusing to all of you!" Dean shot back, voice still a little unsteady, which only caused them to laugh harder. Cas met his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder, scooting closer.

"Squirt it's okay, just uh don't do it again....now where exactly is the real Baby?" Dean asked cutting right to the chase, not missing the look Cas gave him for glossing over the whole "don't use your powers without asking" lesson.

But there was time for that later, because right now his Baby was currently a firetruck red cartoon racecar with eyes.

"That is Baby. I just made her look like that, it's her. See!" Jack explained jumping up and dragging Dean over. Everyone else followed suit, Sam giving him a shit eating grin as he handed Dean the discarded keys.

To Dean's surprise, the key unlocked the car just like baby, and the interior looked exactly the same.

"Wow kid, this is honestly pretty cool" Claire complimented with a low whistle, which earned her a death glare from Dean, only making her laugh harder.

Unbelievable. All of his kids have it out for his car today.

Dean heaved a sigh as he watched his family examine every inch of the car, not bothering to hold back their laughter at this point.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we didn't watch How to Train Your Dragon" Cas quipped wrapping Dean in his arms as he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Dean flopped over and laid his forehead on Cas's shoulder, letting a soft laugh escape.

"Yeah well, at least my car wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire" Dean groaned back, feeling Cas' laugh rumble in his chest.

"Yes I know this is a tragedy, clearly the real live dragons would have caused less damage-well less emotional damage anyway"

"Woah, look at that, he's got jokes. Alright everyone step away from the racecar" Dean smirked, yelling that last bit as he pushed away from Cas' chest. He made his way over to Jack who was currently in the driver's seat (keys nowhere near the ignition of course), showing everyone how the horn says McQueen catchphrases now.

"Alright Houdini, while the Lightning McQueen trick was very cool, and we've reminded you that we don't use powers unless we ask. It's time to turn him back into Baby, capiche?" Dean said in the most no-nonsense tone he could manage as he kneelt down to Jack's level.

And of course Dean's very logical, very simple, very warranted request resulted in an uproar from his family.

"Wait you aren't even gonna take it for a spin?"

"You've literally got thee Lightning McQueen sitting in your garage"

"Dean c'mon one dri-"

"Nope. Not happening. Now way am I driving that thing" Dean cut in, flinging his arms out for emphasis and effectively silencing the traitor-his family.

Then he felt a little tug on his shirt.

"Please Dee? One time, then I change Baby back?" Jack asked with his best puppy dog eyes, and Dean quickly made a mental note to kick Sam's ass for teaching him that.

And as he slowly tilted his head back up, he was met with four pleading faces, all hovering around the car He desperately turned his gaze towards Cas knowing he'd be the voice of reason, he'd neve-

"Well, it would be a waste not to take the car for at least one ride" Cas shrugged almost sheepishly, barely hiding his grin. Dean stared back into his eyes trying to will him to change his mind, but he knew it was pointless.

Dean sighed his defeat, running a hand down his face. Damnit

"Fine, one drive-and I mean one. Twenty minutes tops" He shouted, throwing his hands in air in exasperation as everyone cheered.

And when Dean found himself driving back to the bunker four hours later, he and failed tried to hid his smile. He glanced in the mirror at Claire and Jack passed out, while Kaia and Sam held a whispered conversation in the magically (which Jack may or may not have had a hand in) stretched out backseat. Eileen turned in the front seat joining the conversation, as Cas sat in the middle, pressed up against Dean.

Cas gave his hand a squeezing, shooting him a knowing smile, which only earned a nudge from Dean.

So yeah, maybe Dean did almost have a heart attack earlier in the day. And maybe he did have to let a bunch of annoying people in the next town over pose for pictures with the car when they stopped for dinner. And maybe the horn said "Ka-chow" and "I am speed". And maybe the drive was more than twenty minutes. But in Dean's humble opinion, it was still a pretty good Wednesday after all.

Lightning McQueen be damned.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @angeltiddies @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @carverera @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie

[bloody-bee-tea]

Beetober 2021 Day 3 - Eternity

Jiang Cheng is listlessly walking through his apartment. He gets like this sometimes and he knows it’s better to just wait it out for now, but he feels like a remnant piece of time, left behind without anything to do and he hates these days.

It feels like he does nothing but wait and wait and wait and he’s so sick and tired of it, especially since he doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for.

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says from the door and he whirls around to her.

“A-jie,” he greets her and welcomes her hug, if only because it gives him something to do.

“What’s going on?” she asks and Jiang Cheng hates how perceptive she is.

“Nothing,” he tries, but she levels him with her best ‘don’t even try to fool me’ look and he sighs. “I don’t know.”

“You can talk to me,” she offers, pulling him over to the couch where she pushes him down and expectantly sits next to him.

And for a moment he’s tempted; he’s tempted to tell her everything if only so he can get it off his chest. But then he sees how happy she looks and how unburdened she is by this life and he knows that he can’t.

It wouldn’t be fair to her.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jiang Cheng softly tells her and pets the hand on his arm. “It’s just one of those days.”

“I don’t believe you,” she says, but she softens her words with a kiss to his cheek. “But I won’t push if you don’t want to tell me.”

“And this is why you’re my favourite,” Jiang Cheng tells her with a smirk. “That gremlin would have poked and pestered me.”

“And he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere either,” Jiang Yanli very accurately predicts and Jiang Cheng nods.

If he’s going to tell anyone at all, then it would be Jiang Yanli and certainly not Wei Wuxian.

“A-Cheng, I’m ho-ome!” Nie Huaisang yells suddenly as he lets himself into Jiang Cheng’s apartment and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“I apologize in advance,” he tells Jiang Yanli, even though by now she knows how Nie Huaisang can get sometimes.

“That’s alright. I just wanted to check up on you anyway, because Jin Ling sent you several texts and he said you didn’t reply.”

“Oh, right, my phone,” Jiang Cheng mutters and looks around the living-room.

He still sometimes forgets that phones are a thing now and especially on days like this it’s hard to use them and not be absolutely baffled by how things have change.

“I’ll make sure to write him once I find it,” he promises Jiang Yanli, who nods, clearly satisfied with his answer.

“Alright, then I’ll leave you and your not-boyfriend alone for now,” she tells him with a wink and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he gives back and he wonders why no one believes him when he says it.

“Sure he’s not,” Jiang Yanli sing-songs and walks over to the door. “Bye, A-Cheng’s not-boyfriend,” she says with a laugh and then leaves a spluttering Nie Huaisang in the hallway.

“Why is that still going on?” Nie Huaisang demands to know once he comes into the living-room. “Why is no one believing us when we say that we are not actually boyfriends?”

“I have no goddamn clue,” Jiang Cheng sighs and lets his head fall back, closing his eyes. “But I hate it.”

“Are you alright?” Nie Huaisang asks, putting his blessedly cool hands over Jiang Cheng’s eyes and it’s chasing away the headache he didn’t even notice yet.

“No,” Jiang Cheng admits. “It’s just one of those days.”

“Where you’re trying to figure out what you’re waiting for?”

“Yes,” he agrees. “I mean—why am I still here? I get why you’re still here, but why me? I have everyone back and they are all happy, without any drama in their lives and I just don’t get it,” he rambles and Nie Huaisang makes an understanding noise but it’s not like he has an answer for Jiang Cheng either.

Neither of them know why it’s only them who cultivated to immortality, and it’s not like anyone has given them any answers either. The only clue they found about this during their centuries and millennials of searching for answers is that they will re-enter the circle of reincarnation once they find what they are waiting for.

It’s pretty easy to figure out what Nie Huaisang is waiting for, especially since in all their different lives they have never once encountered Nie Mingjue but Jiang Cheng can’t say the same for himself.

He tried a dozen different things over his different lives; he made sure he and Wei Wuxian stayed friends, he spent one dedicated life to be Lan Wangji’s friend, he helped Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan get married and be happy and have Jin Ling and this is not the first life where all of this is true.

Jiang Cheng has everything he missed; even his parents are still around and surprisingly enough he’s on good-ish terms with both of them.

There is nothing he is missing and yet he is still as immortal as he’s been for centuries now.

“Maybe you’re waiting for him, too,” Nie Huaisang says and Jiang Cheng sighs.

He doesn’t outright deny it, because it could be after all, but—“I just don’t understand why I would.”

It’s not like he and Nie Mingjue had a good relationship in their first life. Tragedy struck too soon for them to form anything at all.

“You did propose a courtship with him,” Nie Huaisang reminds him and Jiang Cheng sighs again.

“I did, but more for political reasons, you know that. Your Sect was strong, even after the Sunshot Campaign and it would have been good for Yunmeng Jiang. And besides. It’s not like I got an answer.”

“Aw, Jiang-xiong, come on, you can admit it,” Nie Huaisang teases him and climbs over the back of the couch so he can poke at Jiang Cheng’s face better. “You had a crush on my brother. It wasn’t all political.”

“And what about it?” Jiang Cheng gives back as he slaps Nie Huaisang’s hand away. “Who didn’t have a crush on your brother. And if this is the logic you want to go with, then it’s just as plausible that I’m waiting for Xichen.”

“You do know that he cultivated to immortality in his seclusion, right?” Nie Huaisang asks and he’s serious right now.

Jiang Cheng knows Nie Huaisang well enough by now to know that while he doesn’t really regret his actions back in their very first life he does feel bad for Lan Xichen.

“I went to see him a few years back,” Jiang Cheng admits. “Or maybe decades? I can’t remember at this point.”

“Oh.” Nie Huaisang shuffles down the couch, just enough to put his head in Jiang Cheng’s lap and it’s only when Jiang Cheng starts to card his fingers through his hair that he speaks again. “How is he doing?”

“Not so well, I think,” Jiang Cheng softly says. “I told him that we encountered Meng Yao a few times, but it didn’t seem like he’s interested in hearing this. I think—at this point he’s just punishing himself.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for da-ge, too.”

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng agrees, because it is possible. “If we ever do end up finding him, we’ll have to bring him there.”

“Sure,” Nie Huaisang agrees. “Do you think—he’ll remember?”

Not everyone they have encountered remembered their first life, or even any that followed after and it differs from reincarnation to reincarnation.

“Does it really matter?” Jiang Cheng gives back.

“No,” Nie Huaisang decides.

Jiang Cheng hums, because he didn’t expect anything else and then they fall into silence.

Jiang Cheng honestly dreads the day they find Nie Mingjue because if Nie Huaisang is wrong and Nie Mingjue is not actually what Jiang Cheng is waiting for then he’ll be all alone in the world, and he’s not sure he could take it.

But even thinking that feels mean towards both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng pushes those thoughts away.

It’s not like he has any influence over this anyway.

~*~*~

In the end, Nie Mingjue finds them. They are just on their way back to their apartment, bickering over the groceries, when it happens.

“Huaisang? Wanyin?”

They whirl around only to come face to face with Nie Mingjue.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang cries out, dropping all of their groceries and flinging himself at Nie Mingjue. “Da-ge, you’re here!”

“Di-di,” Nie Mingjue chokes out, burying his face in Nie Huaisang’s hair and Jiang Cheng wonders if he only remembered his past life now that he saw them or if he knew all along.

“What is happening?” he asks, and Jiang Cheng figures it’s the first.

He looks good, he has to give him that; clad in modern clothes like they all are these days and that still somehow strike Jiang Cheng as strange, but his hair is still braided with the distinctive Qinghe Nie braids.

If he didn’t remember before, then clearly his subconscious did.

“I have missed you so much,” Nie Huaisang sobs out and Jiang Cheng turns around, busying himself with picking up the groceries that are littered all over the floor now.

“We should move this to my apartment,” Jiang Cheng says, trying his best to be happy for Nie Huaisang instead of bitter.

Nie Huaisang is going to die in this lifetime and Jiang Cheng will have to go on alone.

“Sure,” Nie Mingjue mutters, clearly still shocked by what is happening but Jiang Cheng hears them both follow him.

Nie Huaisang babbles excitedly at Nie Mingjue, bringing him up to speed on everything that happened after he died and Jiang Cheng tries to blend it out.

That was his most miserable life and he doesn’t want to be reminded too much of it, even though it’s long past and he never allowed it to be that bad again.

The Nie brothers keep up a constant chatter in Jiang Cheng’s back until he lets them all into his apartment and then Nie Mingjue reaches out to grab his elbow.

“It’s good to see you, too, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng even believes him.

He wants to give the sentiment back but when he turns around he catches Nie Mingjue’s eyes and everything comes to a stop for a heart-stopping moment.

“I would have said yes, you know, if death hadn’t robbed me of that opportunity,” Nie Mingjue tells him, his voice shaking the slightest bit and Jiang Cheng can almost feel how his immortality is leaving him.

“I’ve waited an eternity for you,” Jiang Cheng accuses him but he’s still shaken from the revelation that it was indeed Nie Mingjue he was waiting for all this time.

“And we’re getting our chance now,” Nie Mingjue immediately promises him, making Jiang Cheng honest to god flush, even though he thought himself to be long past that.

“Oh, fuck no,” Nie Huaisang whispers in the background and when Jiang Cheng manages to tear his eyes away from Nie Mingjue he has to laugh at the comical face he makes.

“You told me again and again that maybe your brother is who I’m waiting for. And now you’re saying that?”

“I didn’t mean—I didn’t consider the consequences!” Nie Huaisang wails and slaps his hands over his eyes. “I don’t want to see this!”

“Too bad,” Nie Mingjue says and smiles at Jiang Cheng. “Because it’s happening.”

Jiang Cheng is helpless against that smile and he figures it’s only fair. He took chances with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and even his parents; he made sure his sister is beyond happy and that nothing bad happens to any of them.

And now it’s time that he gets his chance.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 8 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren’s brother did not outwardly react when Wen Ruohan announced what happened.

He merely stared, face as impassive as a stone washed clean by the river, his posture and position impeccable from the little glimpses Lan Qiren kept stealing of him – he was trying to keep his head ducked and his gaze firmly on the ground, trying to demonstrate penitence, but he couldn’t quite resist looking. He assumed that his brother’s seeming indifference was a mask for the rage he undoubtedly felt, seeing his little brother screw up what would have otherwise been a perfect discussion conference for the Lan sect.

It seemed like a reasonable conclusion, given that Lao Nie was taking up all the slack of reacting with rage without any such mask whatsoever.

“He’s little more than a child!” Lao Nie shouted.

“Little more, perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. He was enjoying himself, Lan Qiren thought. “But regardless of how close or how far he is, he is adult enough.”

“He can’t marry or inherit –”

“He shed blood in a night-hunt, and that means he can swear oaths, which is all that’s relevant here. It isn’t as if I married him.”

“He’s sixteen! If someone removed sixteen years out of your life, Hanhan, you wouldn’t even notice the absence!”

“True, but irrelevant,” Wen Ruohan said. “And don’t call me that, Sect Leader Nie.”

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, you little –”

“You are unharmed?” Lan Qiren’s brother asked Lan Qiren.

Lan Qiren, who’d been spectating the increasingly fraught back and forth between the two sect leaders, turned to look at him, surprised to be addressed.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I only had a headache, and Sect Leader Wen took care of that.”

“You call me da-ge now,” Wen Ruohan reminded him, turning briefly away from his argument to do so. “Your oath, remember.”

“Does he even remember swearing the oaths?” Lao Nie hissed. “You know how these Lan drink – you and your damned need for control! Just because you can’t get it one way, you have to try another, is that it, Hanhan?”

“Sect Leader Nie, if you really find it impossible to be civil -” 

“If you are unharmed, then we can return to the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren’s brother said, ignoring them both. His voice was as distant and cold as a winter breeze, piercing and lifeless; it reminded Lan Qiren a little of his father, and he shivered. “We will determine the remainder at that time.”

“See?” Wen Ruohan said goadingly to Lao Nie, whose scowl only deepened. “If even his own sect doesn’t object to it –”

“They didn’t not object, they’re refraining from making a statement; it’s not the same thing. ‘Even ten years isn’t too late for a gentleman to get revenge’ – !”

“I should like to see them try.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden sense of relief, heralded by a bright and abrupt clarity: of course Wen Ruohan hadn’t sworn brotherhood with him on his behalf! He’d only done it because he’d seen Lan Qiren together with Lao Nie, found that the sight offended his vision, and immediately decided to disrupt it. Never mind that Lao Nie didn’t have any intentions beyond the casual mentorship of any older cultivator to a junior – Wen Ruohan was well known for his paranoia, his irritability, his tendency to seize on crazy ideas. And, of course, there was his jealousy, a trait to which he had himself admitted…

A treasure sword used to prop up a table, indeed. It wasn’t about Lan Qiren's merits or the Lan sect’s supposed failings at all. The only table Wen Ruohan was concerned with was Lao Nie’s!

(And that certainly did explain the whole bizarre ‘Hanhan’ thing better than any other hypothesis Lan Qiren had come up with.)

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure it was better, exactly, to be a pawn in a strange game between sect leaders, but it was at least more familiar. As a younger son of a politically minded Great Sect, he was more like a daughter; being used for some scheme by the adults around him had always been his destiny, barring some tragedy or especially indulgent parents – the former was unlikely, the latter he lacked – and so his fate was set.

Of course, it would have been better not to be in a game involving Wen Ruohan at all, but he supposed that there were worse options.

After all, if Wen Ruohan’s primary interest was in tormenting Lao Nie, he probably wouldn’t demand Lan Qiren’s presence in the Nightless City all that often – probably just enough to show that he could – and Lan Qiren would be allowed to continue with his plans for his future. It might even turn out to be something of a benefit. After all, a musician with limited martial skills, traveling all alone, could always use strong friends that were nearby, and the Wen sect’s reach far exceeded that of the Lan sect…

Anyway, comparatively, Lan Qiren disliked far more the idea of being stuck in the Jin sect with its inexplicable devotion to worldly affairs (and when it came to Jin Guangshan, word was that that usually meant literal affairs…), and he would have undoubtedly gone utterly mad in the Jiang sect, with its emphasis on freedom and lack of any rules to explain anything. And of course, regrettably, the Nie sect wouldn't have done such a thing to begin with, secretive as they were...

No, it wouldn’t be so bad, Lan Qiren tried to convince himself. It wouldn’t be so bad at all.

The illusion lasted exactly as long as it took for the leaders of the five Great Sects to retreat to finalize their discussions on business – with Sect Leader Jiang and Jin stepping up to keep Sect Leaders Wen and Nie from each other’s throats, even as Lan Qiren’s brother ignored them all – and Lan Qiren returned to his proper place among the other Lan sect disciples.

“Did he really put you in the Fire Palace until you agreed?” one of them asked, then was promptly elbowed by at least three of his fellows – it was poor Lan Yueheng that had asked, naturally; he was extraordinarily good at mathematics and extraordinarily bad at just about everything else, including both tact and following the Lan sect rules. Lan Qiren had gotten on quite well with him in the past, each one happy to have an audience to listen to their rambling without caring too much if the other side was really listening, but Lan Yueheng was Lan Ganhui’s mother’s sister’s son, the two of them raised together like brothers, and in recent years the latter had a habit of restricting the former from spending too much time with Lan Qiren, the favorite subject of his mockery.

“No,” Lan Qiren said stiffly, and turned his face away in sudden upset. He had almost managed to forget that his new sworn brother was reputed to enjoy spending his free time torturing people, enough so that he had an entire prison devoted to it.

The older brother guided, the younger brother obeyed – what was Lan Qiren supposed to learn from Wen Ruohan? How to be cruel and pitiless, how to hurt people, how to increase his cultivation by doing all manner of dirty things?

Even if he didn’t learn such things, wouldn’t people assume it of him anyway?

“But I heard –” Lan Yueheng persisted, then hissed when someone stepped on his foot.

“No,” Lan Qiren said, stronger this time. “Do not speak behind the backs of others, Yueheng-xiong.”

“Oh. Right.”

Someone muttered killjoy under their breath, but that wasn’t exactly new; his brother thought he was one, and he was popular, so others often followed his lead - and anyway, perhaps he was. At any rate, they all stood around in awkward silence for a little while before someone decided to recount one of the incidents in the main event competition once again, their voice a little over-loud in the silence, and a perfectly anodyne conversation about Qingheng-jun’s performance started up in earnest to cover over all the things they did not say.

That, too, was not new.

Truly, life would be easier if everyone would just listen to the rules, Lan Qiren thought wistfully. The nice written-down ones, just those, and never mind about all the unspoken ones, the ones that everyone seemed to intuitively understand except for him – he tried his best to learn those, too, and to extrapolate from one situation to another, but unspoken rules seemed as changeable as a puff of cloud. It was simply impossible.

In the end, the sect leaders finished up their business and each of them took their leave from the Nightless City, just the way that always happened. Before he went, Lao Nie put his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder and said, “Write to me if you ever need anything at all,” while glaring at Wen Ruohan, who smirked back; Lan Qiren’s brother did not glance at either of them and merely walked off, his hands behind his back and his posture straight and tall as a tree. The other two Great Sect leaders, Jin and Jiang, exchanged glances of their own and headed off their own way without a word, choosing, quite prudently, not to get involved.

Lan Qiren saluted to Lao Nie and, slightly more hesitantly, to Wen Ruohan, then followed after his brother. To his relief, Wen Ruohan didn’t stop him, only watched him go, his eyes glittering malevolently - his gaze a palpable weight. It wasn’t quite like the first few times they’d met, where the pressure almost felt like the other man was exerting power on him; rather, Lan Qiren suspected, the weight he was feeling was only the weight of all the new expectations that had fallen onto his shoulders as a result of his new brotherhood. 

The ride home was excruciatingly awkward.

It was not a short journey, and Lan Qiren did not speak to his brother once the entire time by mutual unspoken agreement. He might not have noticed such a thing normally, but his brother’s usually cool aura was positively frigid, driving Lan Qiren to silence even when he might have otherwise spoken on mundane matters such as the weather or travel conditions.

Lan Qiren even suspected that if he had dared to try, his brother might have used the muting spell on him.

Naturally, the other disciples followed his brother’s lead – poor Lan Yueheng looked especially torn up over it, and at one point Lan Qiren found a book on abstruse geometry hidden under his pillow in what was probably a well-meaning gesture of solidarity – and Lan Qiren was stuck in that uncomfortable place where he finally had the peace and solitude he often longed for when stuck in a crowd while also simultaneously feeling awful about it, struck with a sudden desire for the company of his family, however cold it might be.

When at last they returned home in the late afternoon, Lan Qiren knew from experience what to do next: he went straight to the hanshi, where his father was waiting for their report, and knelt in penance outside. If the trip had gone well, he would have helped his brother settle the final matters relating to their trip – putting back anything borrowed from the sect’s stores, registering everyone as having arrived with no one lost on the way, that sort of thing – but since it hadn’t, his duties were limited to…well, this.

It was unpleasant, but then, it was supposed to be.

He waited for over a shichen in unmoving silence. The remainder of the sect tiptoed around him, with the disciples that had remained behind sending him sympathetic looks that suggested that they didn’t know exactly what had happened but were burning with curiosity to find out.

It was already dark by the time his brother arrived.

When he did so, he walked right by Lan Qiren without looking and went inside.

There was no written rule against eavesdropping, although there were several unspoken rules about it that were sometimes but not always applicable, but even when (guiltily) straining his ears to the utmost, Lan Qiren could only hear the vaguest murmur of voices within.

It was only after some time – towards the end of his brother’s report, no doubt – that there was a brief uptick, a surprised exclamation (possibly “what?!”, although Lan Qiren’s father was soft-spoken enough that even an exclamation was too muffled to be properly audible), and Lan Qiren braced himself.

After a little longer, the door to the hanshi opened.

“Qiren,” his father’s voice drifted out. “Enter.”

Lan Qiren got up, a little unsteady from all the kneeling, straightened himself out and walked inside, his hands folded behind his back. He would have knelt again, but his father waved for him to keep standing, frowning thoughtfully at him as his brother drank the tea they had been sharing.

“You swore an oath of brotherhood with Sect Leader Wen?” his father asked, his face frustratingly neutral.

Lan Qiren nodded, then amended: “I do not remember doing so. He offered me a toast, and would not allow me to reject it, and then the next morning, he informed me that we had sworn an oath together and showed me the written version of the oath.”

The paper in question was laid out on the table in front of his father. Lan Qiren’s brother had confiscated it after Wen Ruohan had showed it to him, and Lan Qiren hadn’t figured out a way to ask to see it, though he desperately wanted to know whether they had sworn one of the classical brotherhood oaths or if they’d added their own clauses. It seemed like a thing Wen Ruohan would do, yet the idea had only belatedly occurred to Lan Qiren, which meant he hadn’t properly examined the oath while he’d had the chance.

His father hummed thoughtfully.

“There’s no reason to doubt Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren’s brother opined. “He is meticulous in his schemes. Even if there were, the announcement was public; I would not have our clan be known as oath-breakers.”

“Public and unrefuted,” Lan Qiren’s father said, and Lan Qiren blinked because he almost sounded disapproving – but his father never disapproved of anything his brother did, as far as he knew. “Still, you are not wrong. There are few more decisive than Sect Leader Wen. Once he settled on his course, he would not leave such a gap through which one could retreat, not even for himself…Qiren.”

Lan Qiren straightened.

“You were unharmed?”

He blinked at the unexpected question, the same his brother had posed.

“I only had a headache,” he said hesitantly, vaguely aware from the way his father looked at him and his brother did as well that his answer was not what they were expecting. “From the liquor. Nothing else.”

“Did anything else hurt?” his father pressed. “Your body?”

Lan Qiren thought back. “My upper arms,” he said, remembering. He’d thought it was from the uncomfortable bed. “And my right knee. They were a little bruised, I think, but it went away after Sect Leader Wen shared spiritual energy with me.”

His father frowned and twisted his fingers in a gesture; an array opened beneath Lan Qiren’s feet, and the places he had mentioned, as well as his palms and forehead, began to glow.

The marks on his arms, glowing with the pale echoes of Wen Ruohan’s qi, were in the shape of hands.

(Wen Ruohan had commented on Lan Qiren’s enthusiastic telling of the Lan sect rules while intoxicated, to the point of seeking to hold him down as an unwilling audience. Had Wen Ruohan had to physically restrain him from causing trouble as well?)

“The disgrace was minimal, then,” his brother remarked, and when their father said nothing but dismissed the spell Lan Qiren abruptly realized that they were trying to figure out if he had, in fact, been deflowered, just as Wen Ruohan had teasingly hinted that night. He had not shared with anyone that he had woken up in Wen Ruohan’s bed, too mortified to do so, and now that the suggestion had been seriously raised, he was even more determined never to do so. “Not that that will help the rumors.”

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought – surely people wouldn’t think – wouldn’t assume –

Wen Ruohan had no reputation for liking young boys. He wasn’t even known to cut his sleeve!

(Lan Qiren didn’t know what he himself liked. He’d thought he’d have more time to figure it out.)

“We do not guide our sect according to rumors.”

His brother put down his teacup with a little more force than necessary. “Is it the sale or the price that you object to, Father?” he asked, voice far sharper than it should be when speaking to an elder, least of all their father. “See what I have accomplished for our sect, and without even the official authority of being vested as sect leader! It is just as you taught me! Am I to flinch simply because he shares my blood?”

“It is not what is taken,” their father responded, his voice a little sharper than usual as well, but not by much; he might as well have been commenting disapprovingly on an unfortunate turn in the weather. “But that it is Wen Ruohan who takes. His greed knows no boundaries, his recklessness grows by the year – today Qiren is unharmed and your plans may proceed, but what of tomorrow?”

“Have you thought of any better use to put him to? His role is to serve the sect!”

“As a disciple of the Lan sect,” their father said. His tone was still mild, but his voice was icy enough to make Lan Qiren shiver in a confused sort of fear that he did not quite understand. “Not as a plaything for Wen Ruohan.”

By all rights, Lan Qiren’s brother ought to now kneel and beg forgiveness from his elder, his sect leader, his father, but instead he only shook his head. “An oath of brotherhood goes both ways,” he reminded their father, speaking to him as if they were equals. “Sect Leader Wen announced to the world that he swore an oath with a child – does that not also mean that responsibility for his safety and wellbeing falls equally on his shoulders? Any harm to him stains Sect Leader Wen’s name as much if not more than ours.”

“Are we to let outsiders educate our children, then?”

“One cannot compare a foolish younger son to a brother, voluntarily chosen. He chose it, not us; everyone knows this. Any mistakes Qiren makes will fall heavier on his shoulders.”

Their father frowned deeply enough to carve additional lines into his prematurely aged face. “You plan to use Qiren as a lever, then, and extract concessions for every slight.”

His brother shrugged, almost careless in his arrogance. “If Sect Leader Wen chooses to give me such a handle over him, am I meant to refuse? For all his clever schemes, he is also known to be moody and impulsive, easily lured into rashness…I see an opportunity here, not a trap. You chose to give me responsibility early, to have me help you make our sect stronger, greater; that is what I was born to do. You gave me power and I have done well with it, done exactly what you’ve asked me to do. I’ve made you proud - haven’t I?”

“But what of the risk that Wen Ruohan might ignore public opinion and harm Qiren regardless?” his father pressed, not answering. It wasn’t really necessary, of course; he was always proud of Lan Qiren’s brother, no matter what he did - his eldest son was his treasure, the only thing he cared for; it was as fact as undeniable as the direction in which the sun rose each morning. “The Lan sect does not buy riches with blood.”

“I have thought it over, Father,” his brother said quietly. “It is only a risk that he might be harmed, not a guarantee; it’s not as if I am sending Qiren to the Fire Palace myself. And there is the hope here, not of riches, but of glory for the sect –”

“Glory for the sect?” their father asked, voice rich with meaning Lan Qiren did not understand. “Or for yourself?”

“Are they not one and the same?” Lan Qiren’s brother was unmoved. “In the future, it will be mine, and so there is no difference - whatever you say now, that is what you have always shown me. Besides, Qiren will agree.”

Lan Qiren did not take a step backwards when they turned to look at him, though he dearly wanted to. His hands were still behind his back, gripped tight enough to hurt; he suspected when he looked later on he would find blood beneath his fingernails, dug in deep into his flesh.

“Well?” their father asked of him, though his gaze settled somewhere above Lan Qiren’s head as it always seemed to, as different as night and day from the tender and forgiving looks he gave his eldest son even in the midst of their argument. His voice was so cold that Lan Qiren could feel it against his skin like the bitter winter wind. “What do you say?”

Is it the sale or the price that you object to?

It’s not what is taken, but that it is Wen Ruohan who takes.

Have you thought of any better use to put him to?

His role is to serve the sect.

“I do not see what choice there is,” he said dully, his eyes focused on his father’s face just as his father’s refused to focus on his, foolishly still looking for the affection he knew he would likely never find. In his father’s mind, he had only one son – even his objections on Lan Qiren’s behalf, however mild, were nothing more than what he would have said on behalf of any Lan sect disciple. Even Lan Qiren, foolish and bad at people as he was, could see that his father’s primary concern over the approach his brother had suggested was its potential impact on the reputation of his brother and his sect. “I swore an oath. Even if I do not remember it, as a matter of personal honor, I will not allow myself to be foresworn.”

“There,” his brother said, his voice rich in satisfaction. “You see? The choice is made. It is only what we do with it now that matters.”

Lan Qiren bit his lower lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like asking do either of you care about me at all.

“Very well,” their father said indifferently. “Then it will be as you say. Qiren.”

“Father.”

“You will spend the night kneeling in the ancestral hall to consider the consequences of violating the prohibition against alcohol and the injunction to maintain your discipline. In view of the circumstances, no other punishment will be imposed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Dismissed.”

As Lan Qiren left, he heard his father ask his brother to tell him about the riding competition.

He did not ask about music.

[bewareof12metersfrogs]

Warning: long rant. Probably messed up grammar. Not LXC-friendly.

So Pinterest gave me this:

And I was like

Ah yes, Lan Xichen.

I mean, I love that guy, but oh gosh that man is BLIND. Like, man's so blind Xue Yang could use him to slaughter people.

(I'm so sorry for that joke)

I really loved him when I first read the book, esp pre-Nightless City, but then I read it for the second (and third) time and that love turned into "uhh, I guess I kinda like him?"

I mean, in Sunshot Campaign arc, NMJ just got freaking tortured. He just got beaten, made to watch his men die, and his former deputy "betrayed" him -- and then LXC was just like, "oh da-ge CALM down, this is all part of OUR plan, A-Yao's our spy lol put Baxia away don't shout at him smh"

Why didn't LXC say to NMJ that the whole thing had been orchestrated? Okay, I get it, maybe he couldn't risk JGY getting caught, but couldn't he just tell NMJ, "hey, this is the plan. You're gonna get caught at Yangquan by WRH and our spy will take care of the rest of it" ? I'm pretty sure NMJ was angrier about his men getting slaughtered than himself getting beaten. NMJ is kinda like WWX; they were both idiots, but they cared about their people. Pretty sure he cared more about his men than himself. If he knew about the "plan", he'd most likely bring the disciples who were ready to die.

THEN LXC just went to NMJ like, "Hey let's be sworn brothers!". Xichen, dude, his wounds aren't even healed. I mean, it's a bit insensitive right?? I think it is. The whole sworn-brotherhood-right-after-shunshot-campaign thing still bothers me. To me, it seems like no one cared about NMJ. I mean, he was the leader of SC, people used his skills, his men, his everything, and then he was just, like, casted aside?? Pretty sure man's got PTSD. Also, qi deviation. Oh gosh I forgot about qi deviation.

Anyway, yeah, LXC was blind throughout the novel. I won't talk about the scene where Wangxian tried to tell him that A-Yao = bad, but I will talk about the scene where NHS decided to "use" his er-ge to kill his san-ge. Was it intentional? Perhaps. Was NHS lying? Maybe. Was it bad? Absolutely. Was it expected? Of course.

Let's put ourselves in NHS' shoes for a second. Your big bro, who is also the one who raised you and the only family you have left, died. People are quacking "oh it's the Nie curse, and isn't it such a tragedy?" BUT NO! One day you be minding your own business and then BAM you found out that da-ge'd been murdered and mutilated AND betrayed. So you started scheming for like a decade. Everything was going great, as great as a 10 years revenge plan could ever be. You just gotta wait for a few more hours, you just gotta listen to your nemesis' retelling his sad background story, you just gotta endure the pain of seeing your dead big bro wrecking havoc, and you'd have your revenge.

Then of course your er-ge, your big bro's best friend, gotta help your big bro's killer. He just gotta treat his wounds, huh? Pretty sure NHS was unstable. He was desperate and maybe even full of wrath. I understand that, at least, the same way I understand that maybe LXC tried to treat JGY's wounds because he still saw him as his brother -- he didn't want to lose another brother. But how about NHS? He was watching the man whom he thought was his brother treating the man who betrayed and murdered his actual brother. NHS was being a dick, yeah, but it was expected.

Think about this for a second. NMJ's corpse was still right there (and gosh, NHS had to sew his big bro's corpse by himself). NHS was RIGHT there, and LXC had the audacity to tend to JGY's wounds after the man himself admitted to his crimes. I think it's understandable if NHS felt at least insulted.

Also, he was perhaps sick of people not thinking that his big brother was as important as other people, that he was also a human being instead of just a war machine or even a mere tool that can be casted aside whenever they want to. Why did his brother have to die because of other people's greed and selfish decisions? Why did he have to lose the only family he had left forever and why did he have to just sit back and accept it?

Most importantly, LXC had been too blind for more than a decade too long.

Also, the bit about "You're Wangji's only mistake":

Bruh.

If WWX is LWJ's only mistake, then (trusting) LXC is NMJ's only mistake. I mean, sure, WWX is as dumb and oblivious as a rock, but can you really blame him?? HE WAS TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF, HIS FAMILY, AND THE WEN REMNANTS ALIVE, DUDE'S GOT NO TIME TO THINK ABOUT FKING ROMANCE.

Sorry, I got carried away.

Anyway, are we just gonna ignore the fact that LWJ had been acting like he hated WWX since, like, the first time they met?? I mean, I really love LWJ, but his only mistake is his communication skills (or lack thereof).

But LWJ never gave up on WWX. He learned to express himself way better. Man's got dedication and he's not afraid to learn. I really love that about him.

Also, I understand that LXC was angry because LWJ took beatings to protect WWX, but I don't think he had the right to blame WWX for that. Yes, I know WWX did plenty of things wrong; he was extremely reckless and untrusting, but he never asked LWJ to protect him. LWJ did everything voluntarily. Ffs Xichen WWX didn't even know that LWJ did that. You know why? CAUSE HE WAS FKING DYING THAT'S WHY.

TLDR: LWJ was a grown ass man.

Okay. So, do I hate LXC? No. But do I find him flawed? Yes. But that's why I like MXTX's characters, including WRH, JGY, and LXC (the only exception are perhaps JGS and MXY's fam, and I think we all know why). They all have flaws. For me, LXC is too naive and blind, JGY is too power-hungry and selfish, and NMJ is too stubborn and unyielding. NHS? Well, he's a lot of things. He's manipulative, unsympathetic, and IMO he's got a problem with obsession too. He and JGY are alike, in my opinion. The main difference is their goals: JGY seeks power, NHS seeks revenge.

Everyone has flaws. LWJ and WWX have flaws too; they're EXTREMELY flawed. Heck, even our lord and saviour Shijie also has flaws, as much as it hurts me to type that.

Then why do I get so worked up about LXC's flaws? Honestly I don't really know. Maybe it's because I'm tired of (almost) the entirety of fandom treating him like a god, maybe because I'm tired of people who treat NHS like the devil himself, or maybe because I'm disappointed in him. I mean, JGY's our main villain, but I still love him so much. Heck, I love him even more than I love LXC. Bruh, nowadays I even like WRH more. At least that guy is downright evil and he looks cool while doing whatever evil things WRH does (I'm talking about the novel and donghua mmkay).

Anyway, this is the end of my rant. I apologise if I'm offending you, this is just something that's been bothering me since the first time I re-read MDZS. This whole thing is like a plot bunny but instead of a "plot", the bunny is shaped like a "rant". This is a rant bunny. I need to get this outta my head. I've edited this thing like four times already because I keep finding errors and stuffs. I also added like two new paragraphs.

I'm sad now.

[piccolina-mina]

The entire One Chicago franchise is a mess when it comes to the romantic components of the series. But Chicago PD continues to be the most uninspired, boring, and redundant mess when it comes to their romantic ships and how they display them.

It's as if someone holds a gun to their head and says "let's choose the most basic, young, white heteronormative relationships and smack a cutesy name on them. Fandom will eat it up!" And without fail, fandom always does.

It's bad enough that half the Intelligence Unit thinks they can only date or sleep with each other. It's also bad enough that it further contributes to Chicago PD's ongoing issue with rarely knowing what to do with its female characters beyond specific plots I've come to call the "traditionally feminine womanly plots" and tying them in with a male character where everything about them hinges on their connection to a male. And also that "there can only be one" issue where only one of the female characters can serve as the primary one while the others duke it out for screentime, plot, and relevancy (congrats on always winning Lindsay and Hailey).

But they recycle the same things ad nauseum. For eight seasons, they would rather devote all of their time cooking up romantic subplots that exclusively feature a constant rotation of Ruzek and Halstead. I get it, they're attractive, hell, I'm no stranger to thirsting over Ruz myself, but they're the lotharios of the unit as if only they can be desirable, and it's gotten so old. My God.

They would rather give us these two involved with mostly young and white women, especially their squad mates, then devote screentime to literally any alternative couple.

I mean they have SHARED a love interest. Why? The only ships they have ever devoted significant screentime or development to: Halstead and Erin, Halstead and Upton, Ruzek and Burgess, Ruzek and Upton, Burgess and Roman. Qwhite shocking, I know.

Trudy and Mouch have one of the sweetest crossover romances from the franchise, and it's so refreshing to see a middle-aged couple find love, and yet, they've all but cooled off showing them, rarely give that ship screentime, and it tends to stay in the peripheral compared to the big ships.

Dawson had a romance with Brett from Chicago Fire (another character who gets passed around to the point of absurdity), but they did very little with it, and most of THAT even took place on CF.

They gave Dawson something troubling with another law enforcement officer or whatever for like a single episode, but hell, they still devoted more time and actual arcs to the two or three times where they put Halsted in similar relationships because of course they did.

Never forget that the first relationship that dates pre-series was Chicago Fire's Gabby with *spins wheel* you guessed it, Jay Halstead.

And of course there was Erin and Severide. So pretty. So ... basic.

Yet they never attempted to give us more of Dawson and his wife or Olinsky and his. The women were barely characters on the series. It would've been something.

I don't mind Burzek. Out of all the ships, I enjoy them most more often than not, but it has been eight seasons of will they/won't they bullcrap that they've drawn out. All of these ups and downs. The one non-cop related romance Burgess had lasted all of a second and ended in tragedy because heaven forbid they DON'T put that woman through endless pain.

But they've always remained the second place ship of the series, and it's just... enough. Meanwhile, we started the series with Erin and Halstead monopolizing screentime with their romantic situationship drama, and instead of giving it a rest and changing things up when she left, they switched it out with the Halstead and Hailey will they/won't they. Why?

Heaven forbid Halstead or Ruzek don't have a piece of ass.

Ruzek was even Trudy's choice for a relationship ruse to dupe her father.

In the meantime, one of the most outlandish and unrealistic parts of this series is that Kevin Atwater-- young, smart, just as hot as Chicago PD's golden, pretty, white boys hasn't had a real, significant romantic storyline in the eight years this series has been on air.

In what universe does that make sense? Single, eligible, employed, decent black man? Da faq?

Pardon my bluntness but Kevin Atwater should be seeing more ass than a toilet seat. The fact that he isn't batting folks off with a stick is ludicrous.

He had ONE fkd up romantic storyline in his one "very special black Kevin" episode in season SIX and that's it. Pardon me? Do you know how many of those Jay has had? Twice or more than Kevin.

On a series that pairs up colleagues like it's their mission, they never once even considered taking the Burgess and Atwater relationship in any other direction beyond platonic (and even that is underused these days). I'm not even saying I would've wanted that. I'm just pointing out that it made no sense given their track record to not even tease it. But Kevin is only good for platonic purposes, I suppose.

The fact that they put all their eggs in a potential Atwater and Rojas ship, that never even came to fruition, in season SEVEN of a series Atwater has been in since the beginning when characters like Adam and Jay have already had two relationships or more under their belts by then is ridiculous.

And then there's Voight. He's the lead character and never once had a romantic storyline. If he were younger, you already know they would've went there a few times over.

Yet the closest Hank has come to one is an ambiguous scene with him talking to a sex worker in a hotel room back in, like, season two. Are we to believe that he has never once developed feelings for or even had sex with anyone else since his wife died? He's never moved on after that?

They could easily allude to him being on an ace or demi spectrum if they want, even if I would side eye them for choosing the older character to do it, but if that's the case, they should do something with that.

Even a storyline with a widowed, middle- aged hardass finding love or getting some would be infinitely more interesting and at the very least something different than the same old same old Ruzek & Halstead merry-go-round. Damn, the 50 and over crowd need love too.

And yet Chicago PD keeps feeding us the same bland diet repackaged.

Fine. Burzek has been a thing from the beginning. But after Jay and Erin WHY did they need Hailey and Jay? And if they were going to do Jay and Hailey, why in the mother loving fk did we need Hailey and Adam?

The good sis bagged not one but both of the coveted white boys.

I mean, just for variety, Dawson was right there. Kevin was right there. I wouldn't have been a fan, but hell, it would at least be something different. Much better than acting as if Halstead and Ruzek are the only viable romantic options.

Why subject her to that?

Isn't it bad enough that she's more often than not reduced to being Lindsay Lite anyway? They struggle to give her a presence that deviates and distinguishes her from Erin as is. From her troubled past, and her stage of being mini- Voight and challenging his authority, to this thing with Jay.

Hell, they even repeated a whole job offer thing.

Mind you, don't get me started on how they missed what should've been the obvious chance to make Hailey queer. If I'm stepping on toes, my bad, but everything about Hailey screamed bi or lesbian. She radiated queer energy, but INSTEAD they chose to pair her with not one but both of CPD's romantic male leads.

Why beat this well-tread path yet again?

Of all the possibilities, and all the different avenues they can explore, they just keep dipping into that same well, and it's so tiresome. It's so unoriginal and uninspired. Yes, it's just so basic. I'm talking 20th century shipping... CPD is so outdated with this and it makes it hard to invest or care about any of them, especially if you already aren't inclined to ship within the series as is.

Shock me. Thrill me. Intrigue me. Bloody hell.

[hibiscera]

mr. mind, da worm

INHALES. EXHALES. Anon I am so sorry for what you have unleashed. This is gonna be long.

I’m putting it under a cut actually because this is getting ridiculous. The special interest is TANGIBLE. Also this is sooooo embarrassing so I’m sorry in advanced.

First impression

THIS IS THE CHARACTER OF ALL TIME!!! THIS IS _THE_ CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, PLANKTON’S INFLUENCE!!? HOW COME I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT HIM UNTIL NOW!?!?!?

This discovery was made on October 18th, 2020, when one of my dearest friends showed me a picture of him to lure me into getting into DC and I took the bait! Hook, line AND sinker. ^_^

I don’t know what anyone expected from the person obsessed with Scalpel TFA.

Impression now

He Is My Favorite DC Character I Love Him So Much.

My favorite version is Justice League Action because he has the best design out of all of his canon ones, and he is funny.

Uhh the Rebirth version, I like the direction they took with him!! I love the name Maxivermis!! I love the fleshed out backstory they gave him because I think if any villain should have a tragic backstory, it should be the villain that is literally an insect and I am NOT joking!! Yes I get it’s about the absolute absurdity of him being an insect and a villain, but I’m an entomology freak!!

Enough of fleshing out the clown!! It’s worm time!! I like the parallels they kind of tried to give between him and Billy in it too? I just don’t love that he’s not an alien anymore. That’s part of the appeal!

The version of him I love the most besides JLA is... Uhh, well, my personal version of him that I made. (: The ideal Mr. Mind!! The tragedy of his backstory from New 52, while still keeping him an alien! Not the exact same backstory but it’s STILL tragic, giving it connecting threads to J’onn’s backstory (you thought I could resist the venus and mars parallels!?). Keeping his insect characteristics while still letting him have his little glasses!! The best of both worlds!!

Honestly I feel like a lot of loving DC characters is... plucking your favorite parts from various continuities and creating your ultimate version of the character.

I think Mr. Mind has a lot of potential to be an interesting character, again I know it’s like... he is an evil worm hehe but UGHHH OK I LOVE BUGS SO MUCH AND I THINK WE CAN DO MORE WITH THEM!! I want to write a new version of him that explores the potential the concept of the character has...

It’s very similar to why I love Killer Moth so much, he is a character with a lot of potential and even the root of their characters I think is that they’re tired of being stepped on and underestimated, all packaged in a bug theme.

Anyways, Plankton was always my favorite Spongebob character so I hope that explains everything.

Favorite moment

Every moment he has in JLA. The whole episode with him and Superman and Lobo was so good. He’s so... casual. He’s just like HEHE I am a stinker. (: And Superman is like rolls his eyes. That was good I loved that.

Comics I still... have much to work through. But I did like in the Magiclands comic when he tried giving Billy the whole WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT YOU AND I speech. And I have like... no context for this, but I had read that bit where he... is with Superman and trying to talk down Lex from doing something super evil?? I liked that. (I also know that’s apparently not the original Mr. Mind but one of his children who is basically just him again and retains all of his memories)

Also the DC Super Friends comic where instead it’s Super VILLAINS and he is at the mad scientist convention!! LOOK AT HIM!!

By the way I cried when I saw him for the first time at the end of Shazam.

Idea for a story

Me, holding a folder full of papers and it’s all of my Mr. Mind development notes. Let’s not make this post longer than it already is.

Unpopular opinion

I think they should stick to him being an alien. That’s probably not an unpopular opinion. He’s not a popular character to begin with.

Also I prefer his basis being more off of caterpillars rather than worms, but I think from the beginning that’s what they were going with. I’m just a caterpillar lover and very specific.

Favorite relationship

Okay. Okay... A lot of this is uhhh stuff I made up for my own version of him and that universe.

So I hope it comes as a shock to absolutely nobody that him and Scarecrow naturally occur to me as a duo. I hope no one is surprised I saw the dubious lanky nightmare chemist and the evil science bug and said “Hold On. (:”

I’m not gonna delve into that too much mostly because I’m EMBARRASSED... but I think a guy obsessed with fear would see a ghastly evil little caterpillar, a BUG, which many people are afraid of!! And I think he would be like... hmm yeah I like this guy’s style actually.

And then there is The Possibility Of Parallels Between Him And J’onn And Superman. Admittedly, in my own writing I’ve found him more compelling as an enemy to them than of Captain Marvel!! My version of him retains him being the last of his kind (I haven’t read the comics where it actually happens but I know how it happens in canon verse I thiiiiink), but the cause is different. Very different. They are in similar situations... But Mr. Mind! Well, he is a very troubled caterpillar.

But also I want him to have a villain decay arc and become Billy’s accidental uncle.

And recently I’ve started fleshing out my version of Mr. Atom more and he’s ended up being the Toxitron to Mr. Mind’s Scalpel... which is to say his robot son. Like Doofenshmirtz and his robot son.

Favorite headcanon

Okay, I’m sorry, I’m the most embarrassing man on the planet. Yes I headcanon him as trans and gay.

Otherwise again this is a point where the post would get WAAAAYY too long because I have thought so much about him and my version of him.

[extraordinarilyextreme]

finally watched Guardian (2018) and i need to talk

Warning: contains MASSIVE SPOILERS, probably too much music/song analysis, my poor translations from Chinese to English, and some references to the original novel (disclaimer: my novel-reading was mostly jumping around because i have a problem where I’m not fluent enough to read the original Chinese novel and I don’t usually like English translations)

1. the freakin opening theme: We Won’t Be Falling by Chen Xueran... (also I see you Tina Guo on the cello thank you queen)

the amount of chills i get every time an episode starts,,, fantastic! marvelous! the lyrics are very VERY apt to the story of Guardian, esp this drama adaptation

(“We are the one/We will be holding on/For the promise we held for life/For the people we love are leaving” ... “And the story will keep on going”)

1.1. the promise? may i direct you to novel chapter 75? 

Shen Wei: “Sometimes I think if one day you can remember everything, then I will be able to say to you: look, I did it, I did all that I had promised you; not one bit did I miss, not one word did I go back on.”

they promise to keep the peace, to protect both Haixing and Dixing; and in the show, it’s a promise they keep with their lives

2. Zhu Yilong plays THREE characters and is able to differentiate them perfectly with particular microexpressions

-Ye Zun (literally, “Respect the Night”; “Lord/Master of the Night” would be a better title) sets off my fight-or-flight instincts even though i think his name tries a little too hard to be edgy; the way he sneers, the smiles that don’t reach his eyes, also that infamous tongue flick when Zhao Yunlan sees through the act... i think it’s both great and sad that Yunlan could differentiate the twins because, why, Shen Wei would never be so openly flirtatious (and wear a deep-cut shirt like that lol)... the delivery of “Xiao Yunlan” disturbed me so much—wonderful, stellar acting

-Black Cloaked Envoy: does his best to bend the rules where he can for the Dixingren because he’s just so fundamentally GOOD; he’s empathetic despite how stern and strict he seems to be, and how much he claims to enforce the clearly-cut laws... he’s an absolute babie ten thousand years ago (Yunlan, doesn’t it hurt your conscience to flirt with such a babie?)

-Shen Wei: in the novel, his name (both surname and first name) are given to him by Kun Lun’s incarnations—there’s a lot of power in naming something, in naming someone; he’s good-natured and gentle, always polite... he pushes up the glasses [that he doesn’t need] a lot, perhaps because he’s used to pushing up his mask as the Envoy

2.1. i find it very striking that Shen Wei dies without his glasses; he doesn’t die as the Envoy, he doesn’t die as the Professor; he dies as a person, as the person who loves Yunlan the most and has loved Yunlan for ten thousand years

2.2. the other notable moments we see Shen Wei without his glasses are where he apologizes to Yunlan [and Yunlan apologizes at the same time because they’re pining idiots] for not noticing the camera in his office, where he sets aside all his pride as Envoy and Professor and kneels in the rain for the man he loves (lwj kneeling after visiting the Burial Mounds, yea?), and of course after he slices up an orange [cuz food = love] only to find Yunlan asleep and drapes his jacket over the silly silly man... anyway, Yunlan is indeed the only person Shen Wei is comfortable enough to reveal everything to, all defenses and masks (literal and figurative) lowered

2.3. that last instance (ep 26) is when Shen Wei pulls out his necklace and reminisces as he gazes fondly at Yunlan; the song that plays during this is 《乱心曲》or “Chaotic Heart Song”... may I direct you to novel chapter 65 where Yunlan finds all the paintings and pictures his Xiao Wei has kept from the centuries?

“邓林之阴初见昆仑君，惊鸿一瞥，乱我心曲。” which translates to “In the shade of the woods I first saw Kunlun-jun; a glimpse of his grace wrought chaos in my heart’s song”

2.4. but also let’s not forget the [in]famous cut wrist scene of ep 23, where our dear Shen Wei, without glasses, as a person who loves Yunlan—not the aloof Envoy or the well-spoken Professor—is reduced to two words: “Worth it.” Yunlan is worth everything to him; this goes without question, without a second thought. Kun Lun (Yunlan) told him not to regret whatever decisions he’ll make, and Ye Zun scolds and laughs at his brother for giving up his life for a human/Haixingren, but of course Shen Wei doesn’t regret dying to protect Yunlan, dying to protect Haixing. (also, peep the behind-the-scenes where Shen Wei grabs Yunlan’s hand for a moment as he blocks the attack from Ye Zun)

2.5. on this same train of thought, Da Qing brings up a line from ten thousand years ago where Shen Wei claimed he would never kill unless it was for the world... and, well, he kills for Yunlan doesn’t he?

3. Bai Yu plays our charismatic Chief Zhao Yunlan/Kun Lun and hoo boy does he do an excellent job; the found family vibes of the SIU are spectacular and the way he flirts with tries to recruit Professor Shen is endearing and touching

3.1. there’s another piece from the OST called 《一点真心》, translated to “A Little Sincerity” though I would use “A Bit of a Sincere Heart” because it too references the novel

Kun Lun’s confession to Xiao Wei: “我富有天下名山大川，想起来也没什么稀奇的，不过就是一堆烂石头野河水，浑身上下，大概也就只有这几分真心能上秤卖上两斤，你要？拿去。” [I’m rich with famed mountains and endless rivers under heaven, but none of it feels rare when I think about it. It’s all just a pile of broken stones and uncultivated streams. From head to toe, there is probably only this bit of my sincere heart that is worth anything weighed on a scale. You want it? Take it.]

Zhao Yunlan’s confession to Shen Wei: “我别的东西也有，只是你可能大多都看不上，只有这一点真心……你要是不接着，那就算了吧。” [I have other things, only you probably would not think much of them. There’s only this bit of my sincere heart... If you don’t want to catch it, then forget it.)

And Shen Wei’s reply to Yunlan’s confession is of course “我接住了。” [I’ve caught it.]

3.2. the novel is a happy ending because Xiao Guo’s important role actually plays a part (i literally don’t understand why the show couldn’t do that after they built up so many expectations about his good character/merit/inability to be corrupted but ANYWAY)... Shen Wei, Xiao Wei, the little Ghost King has a soul and wow isn’t that just beautiful after everything he did to become worthy/deserving of Kun Lun’s attention and love

4. the Zhang Ruonnan and Wang Yike (death-touch Dixingren) case in ep 3 is an obvious parallel to the “brotherly” relationship of WeiLan... Shen Wei’s line of “Many tragedies were destined from the start” references the show of course but also the paradoxical precognition that marks the drama version of WeiLan; in both of their “first meetings”, one of them was always already in love with the other—Yunlan, as Kun Lun, knew he would have to return to his own time at some point and thus doom this impressionable young Envoy to ten thousand years of waiting and Shen Wei (honestly in a Code Geass Lelouch kinda style) knew he would have to die to defeat his brother

4.1. the importance of “touch” in this case alludes to novel WeiLan, where of course Shen Wei watched over all of Kun Lun’s incarnations but wasn’t allowed to get close to him because hungry ghosts would inevitably devour the essence of the people around them; similarly Yike was terrified of touching Ruonnan all this time... but Ruonnan accepted her (just like how novel Kun Lun lets this intriguing little Ghost King trail after him)

4.2. speaking of Shen Wei’s grand plans and the idea of “knowing”, Yunlan reminds him that “You are not a weapon/blade, you are a person.” and wow once again, only Yunlan can pull the humanity from Shen Wei, who has carefully crafted his disguise and personality to fit what people expect of the Envoy and the Professor... but alas, Shen Wei fulfills his promise by in fact making himself a weapon; he poisons himself to become a bomb that will take down his brother

4.3. as many qualms and complaints as I have with Chinese censorship, much in the case of WangXian, i think i prefer the drama version of WeiLan to the novel version; the plot of the Guardian novel is a lot better in my opinion (with references to mythology and legends, as opposed to, what, aliens?? mutants from X-Men? quirks in My Hero Academia??) and yea the relationship of Kun Lun with Xiao Wei is built up a lot better and makes more sense than the time-travel of Yunlan masquerading as Kun Lun with Shen Wei... but there’s an unadulterated, unconditional kind of love that runs through the drama, whereas the novel had some darker (though probably more realistic) vibes of near-possessiveness and ulterior motives... Kun Lun/Yunlan in the novel can be, well, cruel, which is not necessarily out of character; it’s just seems a little wrong to me that you could threaten your partner in a relationship (if you keep things from me again, i really will turn against you + had i known xyz would happen, i really should have killed you)... plus i’m always a sucker for love without an “i love you”, a love that’s conveyed entirely through actions and gazes

5. Yunlan asks Zhou Weiwei (the mirror case) where her jacket was bought because he “wants to get one for [his] girlfriend” and lo and behold, what similarly-styled and colored coat does our Shen Wei show up in a few episodes later? (also the fact that Shen Wei dies wearing this jade-ish-blue-ish coat)

6. boyfriend jacket during the Moutain-River Awl case... boyfriend jacket!!!! Shen Wei claims he doesn’t need it and well he still wears it anyway because Yunlan’s love is unstoppable

6.1. the way Shen Wei grabs Yunlan’s elbow before running down the hill

6.2. Shen Wei being so freaking fine-tuned to Yunlan’s discomfort/pain as always that he drinks wine for him (and passes out immediately—heroics/bde of yllz! wwx and the alcohol tolerance of our dear lwj)

6.2.1. when Minister Gao brings up Yunlan’s dad and the Chief’s hands tighten... and of course nothing can go by Shen Wei, so he changes the topic of the conversation; also the way he leans forward as if to shield Yunlan

6.2.2. Yunlan is similarly Aware of his boyfriend’s boundaries; cue him politely excusing themselves from the dinner with Vice-Minister Guo when Shen Wei (of all people!) fumbles with his chopsticks

6.2.3. Yunlan also blocks Shen Wei from Minister Gao’s sight (subconsciously?) after that wedding showdown... even though he’s unhappy that Shen Wei has kept the identity of the Envoy from him, he trusts the other man enough to recognize there must be a reason; thus he doesn’t want other people to pry into the possibility that Shen Wei is a Dixingren

6.3. also, also that Shen Wei lets Yunlan have his way and use him as a pillow in the car once again (he also adjusts the actual pillow beneath Yunlan’s head to make it more comfortable)

6.3.1 the other Shen-Wei-is-Yunlan’s-pillow scene is when the professor picks up the poor hurting Chief off the road and in the taxi ride home... apparently this was an improvised scene from Bai Yu who just wanted to mess with Long-ge and our great Zhu Yilong just stayed in character and ran with it

6.3.2. the other notable improvised scene is the cute “Black Cloaked gege~ please be careful~ there’s someone is waiting for you at home~” [sorry that i don’t remember the exact line] but once again our great leading actors just stay perfectly in character

6.4. after Shen Wei wakes up from a night of being drunk (lol) Yunlan has left a note for him “I’ve gone back first, stay in touch. -Zhao” and what’s that on the corner of the note? why it’s a winky face

7. when Yunlan grabs the fake Zhang Danni’s wrist to confirm his suspicions, Shen Wei narrows his eyes... (lol is our Black Cloaked gege jealous)

8. when Yunlan claims he can swallow the painkillers dry, Shen Wei clenches his jaw in his anger at this idiot of a man for not taking better care of himself... you’ll find that a lot of Shen Wei’s anger is directed toward his husband being a self-sacrificial fool

8.1. after Yunlan uses the Hallows again and his nose begins to bleed, Zhu Yilong in all his acting glory has Shen Wei furious to the point that his lips tremble (cue Shen Wei angrily shoving a handkerchief into his husband’s face) [i really want to know if they ever broke character during this scene due to their proximity lol]

8.1.1. Shen Wei all but invades Yunlan’s personal space (he really does stand there between Yunlan’s legs guys) and he’s so careful even though he’s angry as he tries to stop the nosebleed; he’s aware the force might tip Yunlan backwards, so he immediately rests his hands on Yunlan’s thighs/knees to steady him

9. Yunlan has claimed that he doesn’t do things for the sake of gaining anything in return and yet every time he’s wanted things from dear Shen Wei... “take off your mask and smile for me”, “join the SID”... the sexual tension is Unreal during these scenes lol, you can see Shen Wei swallow visibly in anticipation + babie Shen Wei of ten thousand years prior all but chokes on his words when he promises to do ANYTHING Kun Lun wants him to do (honey where is your mind GOING???)

9.1. Bai Yu does have a bruise on his knee after the scene where Yunlan asks Shen Wei for something... dunno if it’s the actor’s bruise or the character’s bruise, but if it’s the character’s bruise—how did he get it? what exactly did WeiLan do that evening lol

9.2. also peep the fact that Yunlan almost always has a lollipop in his mouth when talking to Shen Wei... oral fixation much? (also the whole sequence where he tries to explain how to eat a lollipop to babie Shen Wei, wow the amount of homoerotic tension)

9.3. babie Shen Wei’s ears and cheeks are SO RED when Yunlan snatches the mask off his face

10. Yunlan’s hairstyle changes after Shen Wei joins the SIU (joins his family), much like how a bride would change her hairstyle after marriage in China ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (random note but CQL WangXian does this too when lwj puts his hair down/styled over the front of his shoulders when wwx wakes up 16 years later)

11. the first time we see Shen Wei spit up blood, there’s an echo of “Xiao Wei” faintly and Shen Wei mutters to himself “Xiao Lan” before looking up and saying louder “Zhao Yunlan” (nicknames/pet names/names only your family or lover can call you... this trope is good)

11.1. i also think a lot about how in the novel Kun Lun muses before he dies that it’s a shame he won’t see this Little Beauty [Xiao Wei] grow up to be a Great Beauty 

12. Shen Wei’s funny little eyebrow raise when Yunlan accidentally reveals he broke into the professor’s apartment once ( “riiiiiiiiight i definitely believe you”)

12.1. though the ep 23 scene is angsty, the fact Yunlan says “It’s the middle of the night, were you hungry?” seems to imply their relationship is a lot closer than just neighbors... they’re probably used to sharing an apartment/room at this point :)

13. when Yunlan is hurt, Zhu Hong looks to him but he only has eyes for Shen Wei

13.1. after Yunlan is blinded, Zhu Hong is the one cradling him but he calls for Shen Wei first and reaches for his hand; Shen Wei of course responds immediately “it’s me”

13.1.1. both times after Yunlan gets his eyesight back, the first thing he sees is the person who loves him the most

14. Shen Wei warms up the congee in the morning with his magic after he watches over Yunlan when his stomach pain acts up (domestic use of magic? yes please)

15. the bomb defusing scene in the hospital (video game -> reality case) really is framed like a wedding proposal... also the way that Shen Wei smirks lol he’s so proud of his husband

16. after his Envoy identity is revealed, Shen Wei all but abuses his Black Cloaked Envoy voice to stop his stupid husband from doing stupid things that will hurt himself and every time Yunlan is properly sh00k by it

16.1. we really go from Chief Zhao remarking in the Mountain-River Awl case that he’s used to ordering people around, not receiving orders to married bickering with Shen Wei to then agreeing to everything Shen Wei tells him to do

17. the fact that “Shen Wei, ah, Shen Wei... You are such a good person, how could I bear to let you go?” is an actual line from the censored DRAMA astounds me, nevermind that Shen Wei just made breakfast for his man and Yunlan is basically pouting up at him from the bed

17.1. the way Yunlan’s dad warns him to stay away from Shen Wei and Yunlan responds with something like “he’s sincerely good to me, I want to be with him”... “be with him”???? [inhales deeply] yea this is definitely a “brotherly relationship”

18. Yunlan’s “WOW” after the Envoy kills the monsters in the cave of the Mountain-River Awl case is hilarious and i dont understand how such a noise is physically possible,,, it sounds like a growl?????

18.1. Zhu Yilong was asked to mimic it during an interview (which he did not do and only half-heartedly gave a “wow”) and then Bai Yu did it again

19. also i inevitably got attached to the side ship of Lao Chu and Xiao Guo... they have so much skinship for a censored “brotherly relationship” lmao

the amount of face-touching and hand-holding that they do is unreal... they’re more canon than WeiLan in the drama adaptation methinks 

20. 《时间飞行》or “Flying Across Time” sounds like Yunlan’s reply to Shen Wei’s《只是太在意》or “Just Cared Too Much”

20.1. the lyrics of both these songs really cements this idea that both of WeiLan believe the other to be too good... Kun Lun was a god in the novel, and Xiao Wei was just a soulless little Ghost King... and then we have the incorrigible Chief Zhao pining after the beautiful and kind Professor Shen... i just have a lot of feelings about them becoming better people for each other, that their love really does make each other stronger

21. my favorite two pieces from the OST are Shen Wei’s theme (arranged by Kun Luo) and Kun Lun’s theme (arranged by Chen Xueran)

head’s up: it’s been like four years since i last even glanced at music theory so a lot of this might just make no sense to an actual professional

-Shen Wei: written in 4/4 time, Ab Major, melody is primarily carried by piano + strings; the piano almost sticks exclusively to triplets whereas the strings are in steady whole, quarter, and eighth notes—which creates in interesting impressionistic effect, kind of like hazy smoke or the ripples across the surface of a lake; every single measure uses decrescendo, so the first triplet is always the loudest and the three that follow get progressively softer (mimicking an echo)... the piece ends on the seventh note of the scale, which is usually a pretty awkward place to end and yet it doesn’t feel wrong it all; the piece uses a ritardando in the last three measures, and we simply drift off with that last G... i think it’s a beautifully written piece that perfectly portrays such a complex character as Shen Wei, someone who loved with everything he had, and was just so overwhelmingly good... and then he simply disappears as if the dream has ended. it makes me think of how he guarded over Kun Lun/Zhao Yunlan for thousands of years in the novel, never ever ever daring to meet him... and yet the other man always felt like he was waiting for someone

-Kun Lun: written in 3/4 time, a minor, there’s no real complex shift in the melody although there’s brief modulation into E major (dominant/fifth note); it’s a fairly somber piece, especially when the strings join in... it’s a steady waltz, and it finishes with the scale (second to last major is g, last major is a), like a circle coming back around [like their love story perhaps?]... there’s a finality to it, a completeness, a wholeness, which makes sense in the drama-verse because the moment Yunlan takes up the name of Kun Lun is when his love story with Shen Wei all fits together. the piece feels a little lonely in its minor key and all, a little sad, indeed as if you were standing at the top of a mountain surrounded by clouds and mist... the constant meter also reminds me of like the steady drip of water, the perpetual and inevitable passage of the days and time

-i don’t really understand how because the keys of the two pieces don’t fit together easily, but somehow it doesn’t feel wrong to play the pieces back to back; the melodies of both seem to call upon each other despite the differences in key and time signature, so it actually feels right. a circle without a beginning or an ending, wouldn’t you want your love to be so infinite?

-when yunlan finds shen wei in their bubble outside of time, when shen wei is about to leave him, shen wei is wearing the outfit of their first meeting. and the lyrics go “Across time, I am in the same place”... surely, they will find each other again.

[popculturebuffet]

Darkwing Double Feature: The Quiverwing Quack and Paint Misbehavin (Paint Misbehavin Comissoned by WeirdKev27)

Greetings darkwings of the night! It’s time to return to our daring duck of mystery for a third double feature! This one’s been a longtime coming.. as in since around black friday when I did a comissions sale. As usual Kev was my only customer and he bought both Splatter Phoenix episodes... and I shamefully admit this one has sat in my queue for a while as I wanted to finish the justice ducks retrospective first, as I also wanted to cover Quiverwing Quack’s first appearance, on my own time, and I wanted to save doing any Negaduck till I got done with Justice Ducks.  And that’s where errors were made, as I PAUSED said retrospective forgetting I both had this review sitting in my queue, and that I really didnt have that much left to go on it. SO yeah this took WAY longer than I usually do for a commission, and I apologize for that and i’m happy to correct it, with this, along with the freebie I gave him at the time, coming out tommorow i’ll finally be caught up and promise this won’t happen again.  So with my needed apologizes out of the way, let’s talk about why this is a double feature. Simple: Paint Misbehavin is Quiverwing Quack, Gosalyn’s superhero alter ego’s, only other appearance on the show. It would appear in the comics.. in a fashion.. but we’ll get to that. So it dind’t feel quite right covering one without the other, especially since this version of gos is a fan faviorite of many. So does our  archer live up to the hype? Let’s get dangerous under the cut and find out. 

The Quiverwing Quack:

This.. may be the best Darkwing i’ve seen so far. There is some competition of course, but this one is easily the frontrunner. It’s hilarious, has a really great and intresting plot, few faults, and is just.. about as good as this show can get. I could end that here but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t, so let’s get into why. 

The episode starts with a fairly typical day for Darkwing: Fighting Negaduck, hilariously as always, and mocking his arch enemy for only being Public Enemy #2 behind Dr. Slug, an oft mentioned but never seen in an actual episode villian that’s apparently one of DW’s deadliest foes. So already we have a great motive for Negaduck, who usually just has the motive of “destroy darkwing’ or do evil, though to the show’s credit, just looking at the summaries for his other eps alone, they NEVER ran out of ideas for the guy or forgot he was as clever as he was ax crazy. 

But just as he’s about to beat darkwing, Gosalyn arrives with an archery set Launchpad purchased for her and easily holds him down. And rather than be greatful Drake is mad at her and feels the arrows are too dangerous which.. fair those look to be real arrows but not the time or place.  Gosalyn however is angry her dad stopped her and is chafing both under his overprotectivness and feeling this is about ego, creates her own crime fighting alter ego Quiverwing Quack, dragging Honker along as her sidekick Arrow Boy. He dosen’t WANT to get into hero work, but he’s afraid she’ll pulverize him if he dosen’t. HA HA.. GET IT.. BECAUSE SHE’S A GIRL AND IT’S NOT LIKE GIRLS CAN ABUSE BOYS HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAA

Yeah as you can tell that bit hasn’t aged well and is the one down note in an otherwise great episode. And I do mean great. Because this essential conflict works perfectly and is expertly built on what we’ve already seen of the characters. 

For starters Gosalyn forming her own hero identity feels like a natural evolution of her character. It genuinely feels that, given her love for adventure and of her dad being a superhero, that she’d take the next step in wanting to follow in her footsteps and put on her own costume eventually. Her making her OWN rather than something derivitative of darkwing also perfectly fits both her anger at her dad’s overprotectivness and her own individual nature. The costume itself is.. okay pretty simplistic, with an early green arrow style hat and some gloves and boots.. but while I didn’t like it at first It’s grown on me a bit, as I realized it feels like the kind of a costume a kid would throw together and given Gosalyn dosne’t have her dad’s backing, it makes sense the costume would be slapped together. Grante dit dosen’t explain her trick arrows, but given we’ve seen gosalyn is pretty talented and that she can easily acess Darkwing’s lair, it’s not a huge stretch to say she went into her dad’s lair while he was gone, took some suplies and made the arrows herself. 

And i’ll freely admit i’m a sucker for a good archer hero as Hawkeye is easily one of my faviroite superheroes. Which granted is a sentence I know will probably baffle anyone who hasn’t picked up a comic with clint, or has but it was written by brianmicheal bendis, as in the movies up to Endgame you could easily replace him with a block of wood with a purple h painted on it and no one would notice the difference. And other archer heroes like Arowette, Speedy, Kate Bishop, Arsenal and Green Arrow are also on the whole pretty fucking awesome, as is the Young Justice Cartoon version of Artemis and the JLU version of Green Arrow. So this was kind of a slam dunk for me and the fact Gos’ costume comes off as a combination of Hawkeye and Green Arrow, having Ollie’s hat but Clint’s purple color scheme and gloves with no sleeves aesthetic, just makes me all the more on board for this. 

What truly makes the episode though is Darkwing, whose internal conflict is masterful to watch. While his being overproective isn’t anything new to the show, this episode takes it in a more dramatic directon: While there’s still a few jokes the episode gives some very painful reasons why he’s like this: He dosen’t want to loose his baby girl, both figuratively in her growing up and becoming more self sufficent.. and literally in her dying. It’s a terror any parent faces and it makes him sympathetic: While he IS overreacting at times and would be better off training her and helping nurture her while still keeping her safe, so when she DOES run off to do her own thing she’ll be ready, you can’t blame him for not wanting that, for wanting her to just stay home, stay safe and stay ALIVE.  The comics, which i’ve read some of and will cover here at some point, make this hit HARDER as during the second arc, where we meet a bunch of Darkwing Ducks from other dimenisons.. and one of them is Quiverwing Duck. You can probably guess just by the name what happened to his Gosalyn after years and years of working together. 

So the risk .. is very real. Loosing her is VERY possible. Being a kid to teen superhero is a VERY dangerous line of work as with less experince and being a possible target if you have any mentors, and sometimes you genuinely DON’T make it. Cypher, Jason Todd Robin, Ultimate Peter Parker, Synch, Danny Chase, Kid Devil, Skin, Wallflower, Icarus, Genisis.. the list goes on, and on, and while MOST of them came back even then the ones that did didnt exactly lack in scars: Jason was never the same after the joker’s beating and Doug, Cypher, had severe trauma he never adressed. The danger Darkwing fears is VERY real.. but is a danger she faces ANYWAY by rushing in and acompanying him. The tragedy is traning her would at least give her a fighting chance as it’s clear from the above that Quiverwing Duck’s Gos died not because she wasn’t ready or because her dad din’t train her.. but because , like MOST of the heroes above.. she died a hero saving the world.  And the show recognizes this even if it doen’t mention the death because the show has to have limits and it was the early 90′s, wiht Darkwing’s fears also being that she’s growing up. He knows sh’es capable of this.. he’s just tearful she’s growing up.. and that she could be gone. It puts his overprotectiveness from other episodes in a much more understandable light, and makes it clear that while it comes from a good place it’s not really healthy: As the episode shows, Gosalyn thinks ALL he sees of her is a baby to be coddled and protected and not as her own person, and while he’s right to protect her.. he’s gone so far in it and in dismisisng her again, and again AND AGAIN, that he’s given the poor girl a complex. Leaping into danger alone isn’t the answer.. but when we get to the climax of the episode you can see why it’s gotten this bad. It’s suprisingly layred for what’s normally a pretty simple character conlficts. Here there’s no easy answer and even while by the end Darkwing’s accepted she’ll be a hero someday and both earnestly apologize, ther’es no real resolution. And sometimes.. that’s okay. It’s something they could’ve revisited had the series gone on and we did get at least one sequel episode at least and the comics do explore the issue of gosalyn being a kid hero and drake’s overprotectiness, with his issues there being why he retired and ended up badly straining his relationhip with gosalyn and ending , for a while, his friendship with launchpad and relationsihp with morgan as well as his costumed career. But obviously as I said we’ll get to that another day. But as an episode.. this one is truly excellent and one of the best the series put out, with plenty of humor but the more complicated dynamics at play BUILT on what we’ve seen before, including Gos rightfuly supsecting dakwing’s against her due to his own ego at points, are what elevate it to the series best. So how’d they follow it up?

Paint Misbehavin:

This one’s in an awkard middle place, where it’s FAR better than the previous splatter Phoenix Episode but not as good as “The Quiverwing Quack”. Still it’s a pretty fun episode all together.  So the main plot is that Darkwing and Gosalyn are at cross purposes because Darkwing is overshadowed by Gosalyn, in this case at the local comic con where Gosalyn, returning to her Quiverwing Quack guise, is the big new thing while Darkwing’s practically ignored. 

Yeah no way around it this is a rehash of “Whiffle While You Work”, same basic conflict, just with suprheroing instead of a video game. So naturally at first it annoyed me especially since they had a debate over who was better, Darkwing’s old traditional hero or Gosalyn’s new very 90′s hero. This.. goes about nowhere and is just cringe inducing for me as a comics fan, whose not against 90′s characters but acknolsges the vast majority got better LATER under new writers, with the exception of some such as superboy, steel, kyle rayner and impulse, who were fresh out of the package.  Thankfully.. the episode pushes past this and it ends up being a better version of Whiffle While You Work, as Drake isn’t as overbearingly obnoxious as he was there: Here Gosalyn is just as egotsitical, at one point trying to lead him away from a crime scene, and it’s only when they finally work as a team that they become unstoppable. It does say something though that Darkwing has genuinely grown as his objection is pure ego instead of overprotectivness like last time and he willingly lets her tag along even if he’s trying to show her up. It’s not the BEST conflict, and it ends with egos clashing, but while this part of the episode is recycled.. at least it’s recycling an episode that genuinely wasted the idea and using it better. Darkwing being jealous here is FAR more understandable as he’s been a hero far longer and while his ego is way too big for his head, it’s understandble to be a big pissy, and agian he dosen’t go nearly as far in how he treats gosalyn. He just wants to show up his own daughter and he’s shown as fully wrong for this. Not great but far better than before.  What IS great and what makes this episode fun, is Splatter Phoenix, whose even better than last time. I attribute this to the change in voice actors. While Dani Staahl was excellent.. her replacment is far better and far more notable. It’s SCTV’s andrea martin... who i’m realizing most of you have probably never heard of. 

Or know what  SCTV is. It was before both our times trust me: it was an early 80′s sketch comedy show that had a unique premise as the sketches were all programs for a fictional tv station, and there’d often be wraparounds about what was going on at the station that oftne led to sketches or impacted them: From dealing with sponser issues brought on by the Moral Majority, aliens, the russians hyjacking their signal, and forging checks from Fred Willard’s account, yes that was a plot and yes he was indeed a guest star, there was no end to the number of shenanigans in and out of program. IT was really good stuff with an all star cast: John Candy, Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Cathrine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, Joe Flarhety, Martin Short, and of course Martin. Even Harold Ramis was on the show for it’s first season. It was just a damn good time and if you can find the dvd’s or clips on youtube I recommend it.  My point is Martin is vastly underated and really deserves better than she’s gotten, and this eps proves it as her energy really adds to Splatter’s astetic and really fits the show like a glove and it’s a shame the show ended shortly after this episode, as it would’ve been nice to see her return in the role. But for a one shot she’s UTTERLY awesome, and Splatter gets to do far more this time as her brush has now expanded to be able to create, so we get helicopter cats, pumpkin dogs, a pink gorilla with a toaster for a head and when told superheroes always win she creates her own, absract man, with a hand for a head and a weird body and I just want to see more of him. He even skips off with Launchpad’s faivorie hero, bascally mr rodgers as a weasel, after launchpad draws the guy in. I want to see this gay couple fight crime with love and existetaalism dammit!

But yeah she’s just fun, as is her vandalism of various art works including making the dogs playing poker into skeletons.. which I now want a picture of for my room because that is nice. SHe also brings back the art shitfts from before in little ways, transforming darkwing into abstract art and to blocky art at diffrent points with her brush. And that’s what puts this episode over the other: The creativity is still there but without the whole “Honker being gaslighted” plot that I still hate to this very second, it’s allowed to be fun and fancy free and with Splatter out in the open she’s allowed to get a LOT more ambitious and thus the writers and martin get to have a LOT more fun with the gimmick. 

So while I do feel the episode’s a bit crowded, as they try to cram in both splatter phoenix and this super feud between family into the same space and both episodes would’ve been better served seperatley, i’ts so fun with clever use of the magic brush by our heroes and what not I can’t help but love it. I don’t love the climax though as splatter gets turpentine spilled on her by gosalyny and .. melts for some reason. Because she’s made of paint now even though that was never a thing before? Not to mention the fact our heroes just killed a person...

So yeah the ending’s a bit wonky but it’s a fun episode with the return of a great villian, a decent of played out main conflict and some great gags and fights in it. All in all i’m glad I got comissioned for this one and finally tackled it. Good stuff.  So that does it for this. We’ll be back to darkwing next week just in time for valentine’s day.. and back with Negaduck too. Until then it’s been a pleasure. 

[volturialice]

Spork Haven chapter 25: gone with the fucking wind

welcome to spork haven, where I spork the EL James fic you’ve never heard of

previous chapter | next chapter | contents

previously on Spork Haven:

recently-dumped actor!edward Possibility’ed his way back to london! esme was there! there was a time skip and everything interesting happened offscreen! orphaned ex-hotel maid juilliard dropout zillionaire murder witness bella moved back to new orleans with jasper! emmett went through her garbage and came to london to tell edward that she’s (gasp) pregnant! edward’s hopping a flight across the atlantic to snatch his girl back from that luminous-hazel-eyed fucksmith jasper!

chapter 25 has one of the best opening sentences to date:

there are a mere 6 “fucks” in the first paragraph, in which Edward describes how he has stepped into “Gone with the Fucking Wind.” there are actually several more Gone with the Wind references in this chapter (at least, I assume that’s what’s being referenced; I’ve never actually seen or read it), enough to make it clear that erika sees plantation owner life as aspirational. because of course she does. fair warning that this chapter is absolutely steeped in “la di da, wasn’t the antebellum south grand” racism.

still standing outside Bella’s mansion, Edward is deeply unnerved by the flora of Louisiana. (us locals too, Edward. careful of that spanish moss, there are probably chiggers in there.) having run out of Gone With the Wind references, he’s forced to reference a different movie:

if you wanted to look at english oaks you could’ve stayed in england, asshat.

still standing outside (seriously, he’s out there for a full page) he hears Bella playing the cello in her mansion and thinks about how he can’t let her “slip through his fucking fingers.” then he rings the doorbell, “heart in his fucking mouth,” and...

Bella’s housekeeper answers. Edward is shocked that his old-money, plantation-owning girlfriend has servants. a few things to note about Bella’s housekeeper are 1) she’s Mrs. Cope, 2) she looks exactly like the middle-aged, blonde housekeeper from 50 sh@des (is that also Mrs. Cope?), and 3) that she talks in a comically rendered southern accent.

I honestly can’t believe we made it this far into the story without hearing the word “master” only for it to show up now, in this context. 🤢 oh well.

once inside, Edward makes a dozen more Gone With the Wind comparisons as he describes the furniture and architecture. pretty amusing how he and erika think it’s gay to drink champagne, but not to wax poetic about upholstery and Scarlett O’Hara’s crinoline.

at last, “Little Bella Swan” (spelled right for the very first time! gold star, erika!) appears. at first she’s “shy as fuck,” but then she admits she’s missed him and that’s Edward’s “fucking cue” to start making out with her, in a paragraph full of hot, sensual details like this:

I’m sorry, but did you just say she was...running her fingers...through your stubble? 

how long is this alleged “stubble?” did Edward grow the patchy, ginger equivalent of a full-on Gandalf beard and just forget to mention it to the audience?? HOW is she running her FINGERS through his STUBBLE?

...this is the sideburns kink all over again, isn’t it

anyway, they keep making out, blah blah, it’s getting hot and heavy, when

oh no! has the Dicksona been suffering from amnesia? how tragic! guys i’m starting a gofundme for the Dicksona please chip in if you can 💕

anyway, Bella drags Edward up to her bedroom, he describes in great detail the “dark wood” bed complete with “fuck-off gossamer mosquito net,” and then tells us he doesn’t notice his surroundings because he’s so horny for Bella.

....erika. just a little writing tip. you don’t get to describe Edward’s surroundings in minute, Antiques Roadshow detail and then tell us he doesn’t notice them. that’s not how storytelling works in the first fucking person.

anyway, Bella gives him a blowjob

“using her teeth”

and then they have sex. erika makes sure to tell us all about such pertinent details as bella’s

well at least one of them showers.

we’re also told about her steel nipples.

then Edward calls her “homely,” which I know can also mean “cozy and familiar,” but I can’t get past the meaning of “ugly.”

and of course, the scene wouldn’t be complete without Edward once again reminding us that Bella is his safe haven.

anyway. that’s all that’s notable about this particular humdrum sex scene.

still in bed, Edward asks Bella to marry him. before she can answer, they’re interrupted by “the fucking doorbell.”

y a w l 

that’s right, it’s Jasper! none other than the fucksmith himself. 

Edward reacts with the calm stability he’s renowned for

and demands that Bella answer his marriage proposal right that second. Bella tells him it’s complicated.

then she throws on some clothes and goes downstairs to see Jasper. Edward is appalled that she’s talking to “that fucksmith” while going commando.

and then. and then we get the GAYEST PASSAGE imaginable. fasten your seatbelts:

that’s right. Edward...wants Jasper...to see him half-naked with his fly undone.

safe haven is a story about unrequited Edward/Jasper and the tragedy of comp het actually

it doesn’t help that one of the next sentences is:

yeah, Edward. I bet you wish he was. bet you wish he was getting ALL up on them.

Edward—who has been explicitly told to leave Bella alone and let her talk to Jasper—shows up to half-nakedly interrupt their conversation and mark his territory. then he promises to go “back upstairs” and leaves the room, but hangs around to eavesdrop on the rest of their conversation because he’s a controlling piece of shit.

at first, Jasper tries to make a graceful exit, but when Bella gets tearful and starts pleading (girl why? you don’t like him), he snaps at her that she’s obviously made her bed and she can lie in it (I hear it’s dark wood and has fuck-off mosquito netting!)

and with that, the luminous-hazel-eyed fucksmith drops the mic and leaves.

Bella wanders back into her bedroom and tells Edward she wanted to let Jasper down easily, which. bad job there. she also apologizes in a way that makes it sound like she’s about to re-re-break up with him, and “the abyss opens its foul mouth” before him. it’s no Dicksona, but this abyss sure gets mentioned a lot.

but of course Bella isn’t breaking up with him—she’s just confessing that she’s pregnant! 

Edward tells her he already knows, and when she asks how, he says

but wait, erika, I thought mad meant crazy? my little american brain can’t comprehend this sentence! I shan’t ever be able to make sense of all these erudite britishisms. ‘tis all too advanced.

Edward tells Bella about Emmett’s dumpster diving and narcing, and she’s totally cool with it. she didn’t tell Edward she was pregnant because she was afraid he’d leave her.

but she...had already...left him. make it make sense, erika

Bella doesn’t understand why a “hot shot movie star” like Edward would ever want to be saddled with a filthy rich, mansion-owning cello prodigy like little old her. Edward interrupts by proposing to her yet again (for those of you keeping track, this is the third time,) only this time it’s Worse.

okay, first of all this is horrible for me personally because my parents got engaged in the middle of Siberia and the only available ring for sale was an earring, so. thank you, erika, for permanently ruining my family history.

second of all,

the absolute audacity of this man.

put yourself in SH!Bella’s shoes for a second and imagine your kazillionaire movie star boyfriend proposing to you with your own earring that he stole. 

like, obviously erika was trying for romantic spontaneity here, but a) it’s not spontaneous when it’s the third time this has happened, and b) he flew across the ocean with the explicit intention of winning Bella back. he couldn’t have stopped and purchased a ring at some point? he made everyone pull over at Tiffany’s on the way to the Oscars, for fuck’s sake.

the moral of the story is “no need to spend three months’ salary when your girl has severe self-esteem issues,” because of course “Isabella Swann” (yep, we’re back to Swann) says yes. Edward reassures her that he’s cool with the whole baby thing and wants lots of kids, and tells her (out loud!) that she is his safe haven. Bella asks him to “make love to her” again and they end the chapter in

ok then.

best “fucks”

“fuck off columns or colonnades or whatever the fuck they’re called”

“fucking Atlanta”

“fucking servants”

“the fucking doorway”

“another fucking century”

“fan-fucking-tastic”

“no more Mr. Fucking nice guy” (edward)

“fucking bastard” (edward)

“a fucking marathon”

next (and final) chapter: eternal fucking flame

[jasonfry]

More classic movies everyone’s seen but me!

They Live By Night (1948)

Bowie and Keechie are doomed young lovers in Nicholas Ray’s debut as a director. A lot of the tropes will be familiar to film noir fans -- you know Bowie and Keechie will never achieve the normal lives they want, and the movie’s ending feels as fixed and inevitable as Shakespearean tragedy, with avenues of escape closing off one by one. But a few elements set it apart. For one thing, there’s the Depression setting, which offers shabby cabins and dusty plains instead of L.A. clubs and streetscapes, and makes “economic anxiety” a real thing -- Bowie and Keechie’s wedding in particular is a tragicomic masterpiece, with the crooked justice of the peace subtracting elements based on the couple’s budget. The movies also draws power from the chemistry between Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell, which feels natural in a very stylized film, sometimes to the point of feeling intimate bordering on uncomfortable. (Howard Da Silva is terrific in a supporting role as the terrifying hood Chicamaw.)

Ray was given free rein as director, and They Live By Night has an experimental air that would prove highly influential, from the tricky opening helicopter shot to an inside-the-car sequence whose legacy you can see in Gun Crazy. Then there’s its rather odd unveiling: The movie was shelved for two years after it was shot, but circulated through private showings in Hollywood and became a favorite, with Granger tapped by Alfred Hitchcock for Rope and Humphrey Bogart offering Ray a lifeline as a director. They Live By Night isn’t a great entry point for film noir newbies, but will be interesting for fans of the genre.

Robert Altman remade this movie as Thieves Like Us, returning to the title of the novel that Ray adapted; that version is also on my list. 

Under the Volcano (1984)

John Huston enjoyed tackling supposedly unfilmable projects late in life, following his adaptation of Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood with this take on a 1947 novel by Malcolm Lowery. Albert Finney is wonderful as a drunken, self-destructive British diplomat, and there’s an undeniable pull to the movie -- I saw it a couple of weeks ago and can’t quite shake its suffocating mood of mild delirium. But it’s so, so bleak -- before you try it, make sure you’re up for two hours of unease and dread.

Silverado (1985)

I saw Silverado as a teenager, but came back to it recently because as a kid I’d barely seen any westerns and so had no idea what the movie was celebrating or looking to revisit. Seen through more experienced eyes, Silverado is most interesting because it isn’t revisionist at all -- with the exception of a couple of modern tweaks to racial attitudes, it could have been made in the same period as the movies writer/director Lawrence Kasdan is saluting.

Anyway, Kevin Kline and Linda Hunt are wonderful leads, as is Brian Dennehy as the sheriff who’s put his conscience aside, and virtually everybody you remember from mid-80s movies shows up at one point or another. It’s a lot of fun, at least until the movie runs out of steam in the second half and turns into a series of paint-by-numbers gunfights. The final running battle particularly annoyed me: Kasdan has had ample time to show us the layout of the town of Silverado, which would let us think alongside the heroes as they stalk and are stalked through its handful of streets, but his ending is random gags and shootouts, with no sense of place. Stuff just happens until we’re out of stuff.

Compare that with, say, Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers. Peter Jackson takes his time establishing everything from the geography of the fortress to the plan to defend it, and as a result we always know where we are during the battle and what each new development means for the heroes. That kind of planning might have made Silverado a modern classic instead of just a fun diversion. 

My Brilliant Career (1979)

Judy Davis stars (opposite an impossibly young Sam Neill) as Sybylla Melvyn, a young Australian woman determined to resist not just her family’s efforts to marry her off but also the inclinations of her own heart. Sybylla is a wonderful character, a luminous, frizzy-haired bull in a china shop of convention, and she’s riveting in every scene. (Neill’s job is to look alternately hapless and patient, which he does well enough -- a fate that’s perfectly fair given the generations upon generations of actresses who have been stuck with the same role.) Extra points for Gillian Armstrong’s direction, which consistently delivers establishing shots you want to linger on without being too showy about them, and for sticking with an ending that, Sybylla-style, bucks movie expectations.

(This is an adaptation of Miles Franklin’s 1901 autobiographical novel, which I now want to read. Franklin also wrote a book called All That Swagger, which is such a great title that I’m happy just thinking about it.)

Red River (1948)

A friend recommended this movie -- the first collaboration between Howard Hawks and John Wayne -- after reading my take on Rio Bravo. And I’m glad he did: Wayne is terrific as Tom Dunson, a hard-driving rancher whose cattle drive to Missouri becomes an obsession that leads him into madness, and he’s evenly matched with Montgomery Clift, who’s his son in all but name. 

Dunson begins as the movie’s hero and gradually morphs into its villain, with Wayne letting us see his doubts and regrets and also his inability to acknowledge them and so steer himself back to reality. Clift, making his debut as Matt Garth, is solid in a more conventional role (he looks eerily like Tom Cruise), and Walter Brennan happily chews scenery as Wayne’s sidekick and nagging conscience.

And there’s a lot of scenery to chew -- it’s wonderful to watch the herd in motion, particularly in a shot from over Brennan’s shoulder as the cattle cross a river -- and Hawks brings a palpable sense of dread to the nighttime scenes as things start to go wrong.

I would have liked Red River more if I hadn’t already seen Rio Bravo, though. Brennan plays the exact same role in that movie as he does here, Clift’s character is very similar to Ricky Nelson’s, and Hawks even nicked a melody from Red River to reuse 11 years later. (Hawks was a serial recycler -- he essentially remade Rio Bravo twice.)

A more fundamental problem is that Red River falls apart when Hawks jams Tess Millay into the story. We’re introduced to Tess, played by Joanne Dru, when Clift intervenes to save a wagon train besieged by Apaches, and her nattering at Clift during a gunfight is so annoying that I was hoping an arrow would find its mark and silence her. (She is hit by an arrow, but it only makes her talk more.)

Tess then falls for Clift, who seems mostly befuddled by her interest but blandly acquiesces. This is funny for a number of reasons: Beyond some really dopey staging, Clift’s love interest is pretty clearly a cowboy played by John Ireland and given the unlikely name of Cherry Valance. Their relationship is a bit of gay subtext that wouldn’t need much of a nudge to become text. Tess goes on to annoy Wayne in an endless scene that exists to forklift in a klutzy parallel with the movie’s beginning, and then shows up at the end to derail the climax in an eye-rolling fashion that leaves everyone involved looking mildly embarrassed. (Dru does the best she can; none of this is her fault.) 

I was left wondering what on earth had happened, so I read up and discovered that -- a la Suspicion -- the ending was changed, destroying a logical and satisfying outcome penned by Borden Chase. Tess is a hand-wave to bring about that different ending, a bad idea executed so poorly that it wrecks the movie. Give me a few weeks and I’ll happily remember all the things Red River does right, from those soaring vistas to Wayne’s seething march through Abilene. But I’ll also remember how the last reel took an ax to everything that had been built with such care.

[curiosity-killed]

a bow for the bad decisions: 24

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(on ao3)

chapter warning: alcohol, drunk kisses

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, as nonchalant as he can, “hold onto something for me, alright?” Lan Zhan turns to him with a question in his brow, but he doesn’t hesitate to offer out his hand when Wei Wuxian extends his fist. He drops the five nails in a little tinkling pile, and a small furrow develops between Lan Zhan’s brows. Wiping his hands off on his skirts, Wei Wuxian tugs the dizi from his belt and spins it between his fingers. “Yin iron,” he says by way of explanation. It’s not that he thinks he’ll go crazy and start commanding puppets again or something. He’d have to reforge them anyway, try to remake the entire Seal — but he’s never been very good at leaving things alone. For now, maybe it’s better if he’s not the one holding onto them. Lan Zhan studies him a long moment before giving a short nod. The nails disappear into one of his giankun pouches, and Wei Wuxian breathes a little easier.

The kids are still weeping, huddled around a-Qing’s little grave. Watching them, he feels hollowed out, emptied, carved. Lan Zhan stands quiet beside him, but there’s a tightness to his stillness like he’s hiding a stab wound. Taking a breath, Wei Wuxian drags up a smile and claps his hands together. “Come on, kids, enough crying,” he says. “You’re going to shrivel up like plums. Let’s go.” They’re still sniffling, but they scrub their wrists across their faces and nod obediently. Good kids, Wei Wuxian thinks a little distantly. Good kids, to cry for the bravery of a girl they never met, to lament the tragedy of men they would never know. It’s a long walk back down to the next town, and he spends it gritting his teeth against the encroaching thoughts of everything they witnessed. Lan Zhan walks in silence, his gaze downcast. Behind them, the juniors are quiet for the first part of the walk before they start murmuring amongst themselves again. “But what will Song-daozhang do?” cries the Ouyang kid. Endure, Wei Wuxian thinks, or not. He probably will. With Xiao Xingchen’s spirit, fragmented and despairing, in his care, Song Lan will probably keep walking until his feet wear down to nubs. Wei Wuxian sneaks a sideways glance at Lan Zhan, feeling his stomach sink further as he catches the pinch of his brow. He wants to reach out, wants to give his wrist a gentle squeeze or brush his hand against his elbow, draw his attention here and now and away from whatever terrible seclusion his thoughts are folding around him. His fingers curl into his palm instead. Lan Zhan looks so rigid, so brittlely strung. Wei Wuxian thinks of the cast of his eyes when Song Lan turned and walked away, and he looks away. He's been avoiding remembering his death so much he hasn't even thought about Lan Zhan at the time. Now, with the memory of Xiao Xingchen's broken spirit like a weight in his palm, he can't think of anything else. Lan Xichen had said cultivators had tried to summon his spirit with Inquiry and other rituals. He can't know for sure, won't ask Lan Zhan, but he has a feeling these weren't the half-hearted attempts of punks trying to raise a scary ghoul. And he knows the cultivator most skilled in association with spirits. There's a heavy hollow in his chest, in the space behind his solar plexus. He doesn't remember being dead, but he remembers moments of dying. He knows enough about broken spirits to make a good guess at what happened. His soul was already in fragments by the end, cracked and splintered by the Burial Mounds and the war and the Seal and all he'd done to survive. Spirits that badly damaged follow three paths: either they're completely destroyed in death and fall out of the cycle completely, they shatter and disperse till they're absorbed back into the world's qi and either repaired or simply subsumed, or they cling. Stuck to whatever is nearest, whatever is strong enough to hold onto their fraying thread: a loved one, a spiritual weapon, a project the owner spent hours pouring their intention into. Spirits like that, spirits that have been so utterly ruined, don't answer any song. Their music has been broken, the strings snapped, the bamboo split. They don't want to be persuaded, are too damaged to have any desire to pull on. The only way to bring them back is to command them. Drag them back with blood and fierce intent. Lan Zhan spent so many hours after the war searching for music to heal Wei Wuxian, to turn him away from demonic cultivation and purge him of resentment. Did he spend those same hours searching for a way to bring him back, trying to figure out why his spirit didn't answer any call? Did he play for him, waiting for a reply that never came till Dafan Mountain? How many nights did he wait, hoping into the silence? He's grateful when they get to an inn and it's serving liquor. He can't be too reckless in front of the little juniors — some ingrained part of him still fusses at making sure they're safe and keeping an eye out for them — but he can down three bottles at dinner and only feel warm, a little softer. His thoughts don't hook quite as sharply onto the same clawing spirals. Lan Zhan's weirdly permissive, the way he was when they met Nie Huaisang. It's...nice. He can imagine shijie's worried frown, but Lan Zhan is a warm shoulder against him and he doesn't even scold Wei Wuxian for drinking too much in front of his little Lan disicples. Lan Jingyi does, however, scowl at him like he's somehow corrupting their esteemed Hanguang-jun. "I don't see why we can't drink if you can," Jin Ling objects, stabbing at his pickled cabbage. "Because you're a baby, Young Mistress," Lan Jingyi sniffs. "Babies don't get wine." "You!" Before Jin Ling can lunge across the table to Lan Jingyi, Lan Sizhui shifts up a little on his knees to block his access. Jin Ling huffs out a breath and sits back down. "Whatever. Father’s let me try some wine at least," he says. "I bet you couldn't even hold a cup." Lan Jingyi's eyes narrow like he can tell he's being prodded but can't quite figure out an answer. Swishing his third bottle absently by the neck, Wei Wuxian leans his shoulder into Lan Zhan's and shakes his head. "Drinking before you're old enough to fly? Jin Ling, what would your mother say?" he scolds. In his periphery, he can see Lan Zhan's gaze slant toward him as if at hypocrisy, and he hides a snort by taking another drink. "Mother can outdrink Father," Jin Ling says dismissively before freezing, eyes going wide and face flushing. "I mean! My mother isn't a drunk. She'd never—" "Being able to hold your liquor is an important skill in Yunmeng," Ouyang Zizhen says with all the authority of a fifteen-year-old who's probably never been drunk. "Da-jie says you should never underestimate a noble lady with fine wine.” Biting his bottom lip, Wei Wuxian tries not to laugh at the solemnity with which he offers this advice. It's not wrong, really. Shijie had taught Jiang Cheng and him drinking games on the end of the docks when they were old enough. She'd been able to go toe-to-toe with them before the war. He still remembers the first night they all returned to Lotus Pier after the war. How they'd wound up in a pile at the foot of the lotus throne, drunk and sobbing into each other's shoulders. They'd all woken up hungover, heads pounding and stomachs uneasy at the scent of food. For a few moments, though, as he slid into sleep with shijie and Jiang Cheng's arms wrapped around him and each other, he'd felt safe in a way he hadn't in years. "Yunmeng wine is the richest," he informs the juniors now. "Emperor's Smile is the best, of course, but Yunmeng has the most complex flavors. Qinghe's alright but the mare's milk takes a while to get used to."

He pauses, contemplating the liquor he last had in Lanling before realizing the juniors are all looking at him a little funny. There were only two tables left in the room when they arrived, and so their party is huddled around them like ragamuffin sprouts. "Senior Mo, have you traveled so much?" Lan Sizhui asks, and bless him, he sounds genuinely curious. Has he traveled a lot? It doesn’t seem so. He’d always wanted to as a kid, had grown up chasing stories of grand adventures and mysterious lands, but then the war had happened and then everything else and then, well. “When did you travel so much?” Jin Ling demands. “You never left Jinlintai and then everyone said you were locked up because you went mad.” “Jin-xiong,” Ouyang Zizhen hisses, looking appalled. Lan Sizhui’s staring resolutely at his empty bowl, his face white as his robes, and Lan Jingyi’s eyes are about bugging out of his head. Wei Wuxian kind of wants to laugh, but there’s a well of melancholy rising in him, too. How horrible was this Mo Xuanyu’s life? His wrist pangs, and he reaches absently to close his hand around the hidden cut. “What? It’s true and anyway he’s my — well, he was in my sect. So,” Jin Ling says, crossing his arms again. “He is worthy of your respect.” Lan Zhan’s voice is a low vibration through Wei Wuxian’s bones, spreading from the point where their shoulders are still pressed together. He doesn’t speak sharply but firmly, like it’s imperative Jin Ling listen. Wei Wuxian swallows, throat abruptly dry. It’s not like— well. He knows Lan Zhan holds him in — in some kind of esteem. He’s an idiot, but he’s not that oblivious. There was a time, once, when he was bleeding open and snarling at anyone who came close, when he thought Lan Zhan just viewed him as a project to fix, yet another example of Hanguang-jun’s righteousness. But he knows that wasn’t fair, couldn’t even hold onto that anger for too long — not when Lan Zhan got so upset when Wei Wuxian wouldn’t talk to him, not when he insisted he was still his soulmate, not when he stepped aside at Qiongqi Pass. He can’t quite understand why, but he’s accepted the abundance of evidence that Lan Zhan, for reasons comprehensible only to him, thinks he matters. It’s different to hear that aloud, to hear it in firm words and Lan Zhan’s most adamant tone. Something wobbly and warm tips over in his chest, like a jar of wine tilted precariously on edge. As fond as he is of the juniors, he suddenly doesn’t want to stay down here anymore. He wants to be able to hear Lan Zhan say his name again, the way the syllables are so soft and full in his voice. “Hey, Lan Zhan, we ought to check on our buddy,” he says, looping a careless hand around his wrist. “It’s been a while since we played for him.” Lan Zhan blinks up at him, brow wrinkling a little like he's worried something's wrong, and Wei Wuxian can't help smiling back at him. So much is wrong — the whole world's spinning on a bad axis — but he's here and Lan Zhan's here with all this stubborn loyalty and for this one instant, Wei Wuxian's greedy heart doesn't want anything else. He snags another couple bottles on their way up the stairs, and Lan Zhan's frown deepens a little but he says nothing. Upstairs, they set the giankun pouches careful distances from each other and settle into their nightly routine: Suppression, then Calming, then Cleansing, then Rest. It's not a perfect system, but the set works well enough to keep the various body parts from tearing through their giankun pouches as long as they do it regularly. It's gotten more difficult with the addition of each new body part, and now that they've added the torso and arm from Yi City, they wind up playing through each song three times before the pouches finally settle and stop rustling. Humming in quiet satisfaction, Wei Wuxian leans on his elbow and lets his gaze fall on Lan Zhan as he puts away his guqin. He does it all with such exquisite care, such unified focus. Not like Wei Wuxian, whose thoughts scatter and ricochet off each other in all the directions of the wind. He laughs a little, and Lan Zhan looks to him in question. "Hey Lan Zhan," he says, "remember when we first met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan back in Yueyang?" A hint of sadness enters Lan Zhan's eyes, his eyelashes flicking down as his brows furrow. Wei Wuxian spins the bottle absently within the circle of his middle finger and thumb. "Back then, I thought we might be like them," he says. "You know, going off to fight evil and protect the weak."

He'd been so delighted, awed, over meeting his shishu and his companion. Looking at the two of them, their sure confidence and easy trust in each other, he'd nearly tripped over his own feet to show how he and Lan Zhan were like them. He’d felt something unclick in his chest at the sight of them, understanding like a lotus bloom unfurling. Now, he thinks of Shanghua a white gash across Song Lan's back, and he thinks of Lan Zhan's desperate voice in the rain of Qiongqi Pass. How naive, how hopeful. "Who would have thought such noble cultivators would meet such terrible fate," he remarks. “Ended so miserably for something that had nothing to do with them.” The thought makes him a little morose, dampens the pleasant golden fuzz that’s been filling him. “The world is truly unpredictable,” Lan Zhan says, flat. His fingers brush Wei Wuxian’s, pluck the bottle from his hand as deftly as any pickpocket. Wei Wuxian gapes, staring as Lan Zhan tilts his head back and downs the last of the bottle. “Lan Zhan?” he squeaks. Setting the bottle down, Lan Zhan blinks a little into space. Oh no, Wei Wuxian thinks. He vaguely remembers getting Lan Zhan drunk once in Cloud Recesses and a deep sense of exhaustion from wrangling him. This time, though, Lan Zhan makes no move to get up. His hand moves slowly to prop up his forehead, and he nods forward, eyes closing. Wei Wuxian stares. “Lan Zhan?” he prompts, leaning forward. No answer comes except for Lan Zhan’s slow, even breaths. A laugh bubbles up out of Wei Wuxian, and he claps his hands over his lips to stifle it. Oh no. This is too cute. He reaches out, smiling, to brush a lock of hair out of Lan Zhan’s face. It’s as soft as it’s always looked, sleek and silken against his hand, and Wei Wuxian runs his hand absently back against the crown of Lan Zhan’s head. “So pretty, Lan Zhan,” he hums, swaying a little as he leans against the table to study Lan Zhan’s face. “We really are lucky, aren’t we?” Relaxed in sleep, he looks so young. Wei Wuxian’s seized with an absurd urge to protect him, to bundle Lan Zhan up and take him far away from the world and its greedy, demanding hands. Lan Zhan deserves better. Lan Zhan should never look so desolate, so horribly alone as he did watching Song Lan walk away. “Young master?” Wei Wuxian startles hard enough his elbow slips on the table and he nearly cracks his chin on it. He whips around, a little unsteady and hand tight around his dizi. Wen Ning’s eyes blink at him from upside down through the window. It takes a long moment for him to make sense of the position. “Wen Ning?” he demands. “What are you doing?” A flurry of grey and black, and Wen Ning lands neatly inside the room. He’s wearing a dull blue-grey, the color some of the outer Jiang disciples pick for night hunts or training, and his hair’s been pulled up into a neat bun on the back of his head. Wei Wuxian squints. "I'm sorry, Wei-gongzi," Wen Ning says, still kneeling where he landed. Wei Wuxian frowns, crossing his arms and tilting his head. The shackles are gone from Wen Ning's wrists, which is good, though he still has — well, a lot of questions. Is Wen Ning part of Yunmeng Jiang now? Did Jiang Cheng adopt him? He tries to remember if Jiang Cheng ever mentioned wanting a little brother and finds himself looping back without an answer. "Come on, Wen Ning," he says. "Stand up, won't you?" Wen Ning's head dips lower, so that Wei Wuxian can see the plain grey ribbon wound round his hair. Well, at least it doesn't have lotuses embroidered on it. He'd have even more questions then. "Ah, well then," he says, and flicks back his skirts to kneel. "I guess this is alright." Wen Ning looks up with a jolt, brown eyes going wide. "Gongzi!" he yelps. "No, you mustn't!" He tugs on Wei Wuxian's elbow as if to lift him up to standing, and Wei Wuxian uses that to pull him up as well. He keeps a hand on Wen Ning's arm to make sure he doesn't kneel again and raises his eyebrows. "See? It's much better to talk like this, isn't it?" he prompts. Wen Ning doesn't look convinced, but he stays upright, so Wei Wuxian counts it as a win. Releasing him, he drops his hands to his hips. "Now, what's happened?" he asks. "What do you remember?" "Not much," Wen Ning admits, shaking his head a little. "I remember being chained up somewhere dark. Someone would come check on me, I think. I don't remember what they looked like, but they smiled a lot. I remember them putting the nails in my head." Wincing, Wei Wuxian swallows. He'd hoped that Wen Ning didn't remember that part at least. "It must have been Xue Yang," he says. "He also used nails to control Song Lan." "Why?" Fatigue settles into Wei Wuxian's bones like a heavy blanket. Trust Wen Ning to still question why someone would want to seize power over another, even when faced with the man who first did the same to him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he presses his palm to his inner arm till it pangs just a little. "Probably at the behest of the Jin sect. He was a guest disciple there for some time, Lan Zhan said," he explains. Wen Ning accepts this with a slight nod. There's a dismal cast to his eyes and brow, like he's about to wade into some task he'd really rather avoid. "Jie told me some of what happened since, and I heard from some others," he says. Wei Wuxian brightens at the mention of Wen Qing. For all that she maintained a horribly professional facade of indifference, she was great at gossip. She probably had all kinds of insights into the last thirteen years. "Jie said that the Burial Mounds are gone," Wen Ning says. "Our family...they're all gone." The wind cuts out of Wei Wuxian's sails abruptly, and he inhales sharply. He hasn't let himself think about this. If he thinks about it too much, he'll have to wonder if the seals he painted on their houses gave them any protection or just trapped them where the sects could burn and murder them. His stomach gives a funny, nauseous flip. "Young master, I heard that Jiang-zongzhu killed you," Wen Ning says. He sounds miserable, like he's revealing some great failing of his own. Wei Wuxian's shoulders sink and he sighs, waving a hand. "No, that's not how it is," he says. "Jiang Cheng didn't kill me. It was the backlash of the Stygian Tiger Seal." Has the whole world been left thinking Jiang Cheng killed him? Maybe it's for the best. Yunmeng Jiang had still claimed him up to the end, after all. They would have been in a tricky situation, too clear a scapegoat for the Yiling laozu's misdeeds. If everyone thought Jiang Cheng killed him, at least that would clear some of the blame. At least Jiang Cheng would know the truth. As long as he didn't blame himself, it wasn't such a bad arrangement. "Young Master, you died in such an awful way," Wen Ning says, and then his knees are bending, dropping back down to the floor. "I shouldn't have left you." "Wen Ning," Wei Wuxian gripes, tugging on his arms. "No, enough of that. You didn't leave me. I – I shouldn't have sent you away like that. I never should have threatened you." Wen Ning looks up at him with big, sad eyes that would be tear-filled if Wei Wuxian hadn't taken that away from him, too. Swallowing hard, he pulls on Wen Ning's wrists till he's standing again. His shoulders are still bowed forward, but it's an improvement. "What else have you heard?" he asks, already dreading the answer. Wen Ning looks up, his eyes brightening a little. There's such a terrible earnestness to his expression, that childish hope he'd seen first in Cloud Recesses. He can't help smiling a little reflexively at it. "Ah, young master," he says. "We have a niece! She's very kind and energetic. And jie is expecting another baby. She thinks it's going to be a boy."

Tears sting Wei Wuxian's eyes unexpectedly, and he gives out a shaky laugh. Of all the outcomes in the world, he never expected to see both sides of his haphazard family brought together like this. Even if he never gets to meet this little niece and her expected brother, he knows they're safe and happy. It's enough. "Yeah?" he says. "What are they going to name him?" Before Wen Ning can answer, there's a blur of white in the corner of his eye and then a boot on Wen Ning's chest and then— Wei Wuxian stares at the new hole in the wall where Wen Ning and Lan Zhan both disappeared before shrieking and chasing after. He was asleep! How did this happen? Outside, Wen Ning is picking himself up off the ground while Lan Zhan frowns down at him. He’s left Bichen and his guqin behind and seems to be planning on staring Wen Ning into defeat. It’s not a bad plan, really. No one has as intimidating a glare as Lan Zhan. “Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, what are you doing?” Wei Wuxian bleats, grabbing hold of him around his middle. Lan Zhan turns to him and gives a solemn nod that answers absolutely nothing except that he’s clearly still drunk. Wei Wuxian groans. “Ahh, Wen Ning, are you alright?” he asks, leaning around Lan Zhan’s side. “He doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just drunk.” “I’m alright, Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says. Still pressed close to Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan frowns and leans a little to the side as if to block his view of Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian has to stifle a laugh even as he wants to groan. Lan Zhan would be so embarrassed if he saw himself. “Will Lan-er-gongzi be alright?” Wen Ning asks. “Yeah, I’ll just take him up to the room and he’ll sleep it off,” Wei Wuxian says. Lan Zhan turns a little towards him, still tucked up close, and it’s like a parody of a lover’s hold with him nestled in the circle of Wei Wuxian’s arms. His heart skips a little at the thought, at the jolt of want that shoots through his chest. To have it be real, to have a reason to hold Lan Zhan like this that isn’t corralling his drunk shenanigans. Clearing his throat, he lets himself tighten his arms around Lan Zhan and look over at Wen Ning. “It’s probably best if we talk another night,” he says. “Be careful and stay safe, okay?” There’s a hint of a smile on Wen Ning’s face as he bobs his head in an emphatic nod before turning and disappearing into the woods. A hand closes around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, and he looks up to find Lan Zhan staring intently at him. “Wei Ying,” he says. “Don’t go.” A giggle escapes Wei Wuxian and he stifles the grin he can feel slipping out. Where is he going to go? “Lan Zhan,” he teases, “what are you going to do? Tie me up so I can’t run off?” Lan Zhan blinks at him a moment, and Wei Wuxian’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Mn,” Lan Zhan says abruptly and reaches up behind his head. By the time Wei Wuxian’s brain has kicked back on, Lan Zhan has removed his forehead ribbon and started wrapping it neatly around his wrists. He watches, mouth parted in silent shock, as the white loops around and around, neatly covering his bracers. Lan Zhan ties it off in a series of knots that look almost like a braid, and Wei Wuxian tests it absently. It’s firm but not uncomfortable, the metal medallion resting just below the notches of his wrists. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Wuxian looks up. “Stay.” His eyes are honest and sad, like he really thinks Wei Wuxian’s going to leave him standing drunk in the forest without his forehead ribbon. Reaching up, Wei Wuxian pats his chest awkwardly with both hands. “Don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” he soothes. “I’m not going anywhere. Let’s just go back inside, alright?” Lan Zhan nods and starts toward the door with a tug on the loose end of the ribbon. Wei Wuxian trips after him, trying desperately to stifle the giggles that keep bubbling up out of him. He feels young again in a way he hasn’t for years, like they’re still just kids in Cloud Recesses, trying not to get caught by Lan Qiren. Only it’s not Lan Qiren who catches them this time. Entering the dining room, they find all the juniors still there — now trying frantically to hide the wine they’ve clearly picked up in Lan Zhan’s absence and gawking at the two of them. “Ah! Hanguang-jun,” Lan Sizhui greets, a little too bright, “how did you—” Right. They’d been upstairs before Lan Zhan kicked a hole in the wall. Wei Wuxian scrambles for an answer. “Lan Zhan heard something outside,” he says, “but it turns out it was just you all sneaking liquor.” He tries to make his voice sound disapproving, but he’s not sure how well it works. He is...not sober. Whoops. Lan Zhan gives a little tug on the ribbons, as if to start toward the stairs, and Wei Wuxian stumbles forward with it. There is a gasp too loud to be anyone but Lan Jingyi. Oh no. All the juniors are now staring at his wrists and the Lan juniors have gone white as death. He knows he read rules about the forehead ribbon back when he had to memorize them all. Something about restraint. Restraint, restraining— “Right! Lan Zhan was just showing me a special use of your clan forehead ribbon,” he says quickly. “To erm restrain fierce corpses when you need to take them back for further study.” “That’s not—” Before Lan Jingyi can finish, Lan Sizhui has clapped a hand over his mouth and is smiling brightly at the two of them. “How clever!” he chirps. “I thank our seniors for showing us such a hidden skill.” Lan Zhan gives another tug, this time more adamant, and Wei Wuxian gives a little wave to the juniors as he’s led up the stairs. They really look horrified, all big eyes and open mouths. Back in their room, Lan Zhan leads him to the bed and sits down carefully on the edge to face him. He’s so serious! Wei Wuxian laughs, letting his hands fall between them. “Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s tone is almost helpless and his fingers are light as a feather as they brush against the curve of Wei Wuxian’s cheek. He looks up, laughter fading as he catches Lan Zhan’s steady gaze. On impulse, Wei Wuxian turns his head just enough that his lips graze Lan Zhan’s palm. There’s a quiet breath, but Lan Zhan makes no move to pull away as Wei Wuxian’s hands lift up to cradle his. “Lan Zhan,” he murmurs against his knuckles. “Lan Zhan, you’re too sweet. Too sweet, too sweet.” He presses a kiss to his fingertips, to the base of his thumb, the point on his wrist where he can feel his pulse jumping. He looks up through his lashes and Lan Zhan is watching him with lips parted, eyes dark and intent. “Do you like this?” Wei Wuxian asks, still watching as he slides Lan Zhan’s sleeve back a finger’s width to press his lips to the skin there. Swallowing, Lan Zhan gives a slight nod. Wei Wuxian hums and pulls him closer by his wrist, hands settling over his chest. His heart’s beating so quickly, like a rabbit racing under Wei Wuxian’s palms. “Lan Zhan,” he says, looking up at him, “tell me. Did you burn joss paper for me?” There’s a beat where they’re sitting there, suspended, Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled into Lan Zhan’s collars and then Lan Zhan moves. His lips are soft, form, his fingers tangling in Wei Wuxian’s sleeves. Wei Wuxian gasps softly in surprise and then presses in, crowds into Lan Zhan’s space.

Gods, Lan Zhan is kissing him. He’s kissing him, all that impossible focus bearing down on Wei Wuxian like his lips are a new field of study, the noises escaping him a new score for Lan Zhan to learn. Lan Zhan is kissing him. Oh gods. Lan Zhan is kissing him. Lan Zhan is drunk and he’s kissing him and Wei Wuxian started this and is kissing back and— He jerks away, shoving them apart with his hands on Lan Zhan’s chest. Lan Zhan stares at him, eyes wide and reddened lips parted as if he were still kissing Wei Wuxian and — and then Lan Zhan’s eyes widen impossibly and he reaches up a hand to smack the heel of it into his forehead. He collapses backwards, unconscious, onto the bed. “Oh fuck,” Wei Wuxian breathes, covering his face. In the morning, at least half the group is hungover — including Wei Wuxian. His head’s pulsing with a fuzzy thickness, like someone’s drumming cotton-wrapped mallets against the back of his eyes, and even breakfast left him feeling queasy. He can’t meet Lan Zhan’s eyes, but he can summon up all his unused uncle instincts and round on Jin Ling as they prepare to depart. “Stop arguing with your uncle when you get back,” he scolds. “Don’t come out night hunting alone anymore. You’re too young! Why are you in such a rush?” “I’m not a child!” Jin Ling snaps back. “That dog Wei Wuxian wasn’t much older when he killed the Xuanwu of Slaughter, wasn’t he? If he can do it, I can beat him!” Recoiling, Wei Wuxian grimaces before reaching back to rub at the nape of his neck. He’s pretty sure that’s not right. They were older than Jin Ling when they got stuck in that cave, and anyway— “Isn’t Hanguang-jun the one who killed it?” he protests. Jin Ling stops short, lips twisting to one side like he’s tasted something bitter. “You and Hanguang-jun… Whatever. I know about the Gusu Lan headband so if it’s going to be like this, then” — he swallows, two bright red spots rising in his cheeks — “just make sure to stay by his side properly. Don’t bring any more shame to Lanling Jin.” “The headband?” Wei Wuxian echoes, feeling some new horror growing in his belly. The headband just means restraint — right? It’s just an old tradition. “Shut up! Stop being so shameless. I’m done talking about it,” Jin Ling snaps. He looks away, crossing his arms. There’s something about his frown, the way his eyes have focused on the ground a few steps to his left that makes Wei Wuxian cant his head, waiting. After a moment, he looks sideways up at Wei Wuxian. When he speaks, his voice comes out small. “Are you really Wei Wuxian?” he asks. Wei Wuxian’s heart stutters in his chest, but he just raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “Do you think I am?” Jin Ling studies him a long moment before huffing out a breath and dropping his arms. He looks almost…disappointed? “I don’t know,” he says. “No. Cousin Yu always said he was a great cultivator and you’re clearly not. And jiujiu said he was taller than Hanguang-jun. So.”

He clears his throat and turns, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Behave yourself and don’t, you know, get yourself killed. I guess,” he says over his shoulder. A fond smile curls up Wei Wuxian’s lips at the brusque care. What a little monster. As Jin Ling returns to his own disciples, a Jiang disciple approaches. She’s the eldest of their group, tall and angular with a placid expression that nearly rivals Lan Zhan’s. He’s caught her looking at him funny over the past day, and every time, some sense of familiarity niggles at the back of spine, but he can’t quite place her. “Thank you for assisting us,” she says, saluting neatly before reaching into one sleeve. “I believe Jiang-zongzhu would like you to have this. Our da-shixiong designed it.” The talisman she hands him is familiar, the calligraphy for a different reason. His breath catches, eyes going a little wide as he looks back up to her. “Little pirate?” he asks. Sun Hai smiles abruptly, like a crack breaking through glass. There are tears in the corners of her eyes as she gives a quick little nod. “Little pirate!” he exclaims, something like grief and elation together winding tight around his chest. “Not so little anymore — you’ve grown up so much! You were as little as Jin Ling when I saw you.” The last time he saw her, she’d just hit a growth spurt that left her gangly and awkward and mortified by the lack of control she had over her own limbs. In the last weeks before the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, he’d promised to help her practice modifying talismans in exchange for her not hiding away in her rooms every time she stumbled doing sword forms. Now, she’s lean and tall and carries herself with the kind of grace shared by dancers and swordmasters: fluid, strong, and quick. With her sword at one side and other arm folded at her waist, she looks all grown up. “It’s good to see you, shixiong,” she says, smiling even as a tear slips loose down her cheek. “We’ve really missed you.” Oh. His fingers tighten a little around the tracking talisman in his hand before he catches himself and makes them relax. He gives an unsteady smile. “Yeah,” he says. Clears his throat. “Yeah. Me, too.” She lingers another moment before drawing in a breath and straightening up. With another quick bow, she turns and heads back to where a little cluster is waiting for her, watching curiously. Wei Wuxian watches a moment before turning his gaze back down to the talisman in his hand. He recognizes it, though it’s been a long time. He originally designed it to keep track of a-Yuan when he went racing off around the settlement, dashing away from supervision. Had he sent a copy to Jiang Cheng? He must have. He sent so many absent ideas in his letters back then, anything he thought might be of use, anything that to help make up for the trouble he was causing. His throat feels thick with something, the headache clustering with something unsteady and unsure fluttering in his heart.

[5lazarus]

Hurt / Comfort prompt list: 6 and/or 17, please!

so you and Verdi inspired an entire story! these prompts provoke catharsis, and I was thinking of DA characters who desperately need that emotional catharsis, so here we go. Might make more sense if you read these two first, but I think it stands alone. Basically, after escaping Kirkwall, Hawke and friends are stuck in a cave, waiting for a storm to pass. Now they have to figure out how to weather each other. I put it up on AO3, titled Catabasis.

6. “I can’t breathe.” Isabela says, “Can you all fucking chill? I can’t breathe with this shit.” She throws her cards down. “Anyway, I win.” She pulls at her necklace anxiously. Everyone is on edge. Hawke bites back a response. Arguing with Isabela is never worth it, somehow she always wins, just out of pure intransigence. “We’re playing Go Fish,” Varric says, “not Wicked Grace. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Rivaini. You haven’t won shit.” Hawke is surprised at his vehemence. “Don’t give me that look, Hawke. You know how much I hate caves.” He drops another card. “So we’ve literally blown up our lives. Blondie’s in a fucking coma. Aveline’s finally lost her job, and I’ve wasted all the money I spent bribing the guards to keep the only woman with principles on payroll. Which, in light of the whole city being burned down and invaded by our favorite choir boy, doesn’t seem the worst of my losses. We’re all pissed off. So? What are we going to do about it?” “We could talk,” Hawke says petulantly, sitting down cross legged. Varric hands them a few random cards. Hawke blinks at them. They aren’t quite sure if they are playing Go Fish, or Wicked Grace, or some unholy game Isabela and Varric have concocted just to mess with Bethany. They’ve done that before, made up a card game and rules on the fly. “What’s there to talk about?” Isabela says. She puts two cards down. “Hit me.” Varric slaps her hand and moves one of the cards sideways. They are definitely making up the rules as they go along. “We’re all pissed off. We’re on the run. Again. And I’ve lost my ship. Yet again. But what does it matter? Just pieces.” “What’s that?” Hawke asks. “Qunari philosophy. My mother was viddathari, you know this.” Isabela puts down another card. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t like the Qun, that’s obvious. But it has its moments.” Merrill slinks out of the shadows and curls around Hawke. They put their arm around her and plant a kiss at the edge of her hairline, right above her ear. Merrill shivers, in a good way. Isabela smirks at them. “Anyway, it’s just--none of this shit matters, in the end. You just have to keep moving. Let the waves take you where they will. So Kirkwall’s behind us. Well, at least we know where we’re going. When the rain clears up, we’ll head to Wycombe. I’ve got some friends in the Rivaini merchant community there. We have options. Llomerryn isn’t that awful. Rainy, but smells better than Lowtown, at least. And we’re different about magic, about--well--elves. We won’t be turned away from taverns anymore, I’ll tell you that. If you want to stay with me.” They all fall quiet at that. Hawke wants everyone to stay together, but to what end? What’s the point where they’re falling apart like this? Take them out of the Hanged Man, without a common enemy, and immediately they are all at each other’s throats. Hawke catches Bethany’s eye. They want to try, but they are tired of trying and failing. They stay silent. Fenris says, “The Qunari don’t like magic, and you’re a fool to think Rivain can stay neutral when Tevinter inevitably drags Orlais into their war. And you’re a fool to think the Chantry won’t try to punish the Circles, for what Kirkwall did. You remember what Leliana said. The mages are stuck in a war for their own survival. We will find peace nowhere.” “Always a ray of sunshine,” Varric remarks. He throws his hand into the air, and the cards rain down like confetti. Merrill giggles. He says the unthinkable: “What if we split up?” “Don’t say that,” Hawke says immediately. “We stay together.” They cannot lose them and Kirkwall both. They’ve lost Carver and Leandra and Lothering, that awful mansion, their uncle and cousin too. Kirkwall will never welcome its champion home, not with Starkhaven’s army occupying it, not with the Divine’s Seekers crawling through Darktown tunnels for any hint of rebellion. Hawke has lost their home. They cannot lost their friends too. Bethany and Merrill are not enough. They look helplessly at Isabela, who smiles sadly. Isabela, who has never had much at all: she puts a stop to that though. Isabela fans her cards out in front of her lap. She taps a queen, then looks at Hawke. “We’ll have to keep running, for a long time. Especially if the Divine is after us.” She does not need to say it: I will follow you. She came back even after the Arishok killed the Viscount. She will not abandon them now. Hawke smiles, heartened. They know where they will go, now: Wycombe, then Llomerryn, and onward. “How much further ‘til Wycombe?” they ask. “Fenris? You’ve clearly been there before. What are our next steps?” Fenris says, “We don’t move on until Anders can move. It would be safer to split, but I am reluctant to risk missing a rendezvous.” There it is again, unspoken: I followed you from Kirkwall, and Anders too, and I will not leave me now. Do not leave me now. Fenris takes Anders’ hand into his own and his face twists. Hawke shifts, uncomfortable. Everyone has their tragedy, but it is harder to synthesize and react when the stage itself has been removed. Kirkwall is gone. What is the next act? Varric says testily, “We can’t live on the run forever.” Bethany snorts. They have, from the Marches where their parents met, to Denerim and the Hinterlands back out to Lothering, across the Waking Sea and Kirkwall again. The Hawke siblings can. Varric, though, hates moving. He is as solid as the Stone that birthed him, though he would never admit it. Kirkwall is their home, but for Varric, it is part of him. Hawke feels guilty. They cannot ask him to leave. They cannot ask him to go. Bethany, though, is irritated. “We can. I can. I don’t like it, but it’s better than letting the templars make me Tranquil.” She picks up the cards they have put out and shuffles them anxiously, fans them out, then shuffles them again. “We all have had to run, Varric. All of us except you.” Varric is taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean, Sunshine?” His tone is less testy and more surprised. Bethany gets bitter, Hawke knows that better than all of them except maybe Anders, but she tends to keep that anger to herself. Merrill murmurs, “Oh, don’t start.” “Maybe I should,” Bethany says. “Maybe we need to be honest about what the next week is going to look like.” She turns around. “Aveline! Come back here. We all need to talk.” Isabela says, “I think you and I define ‘need’ differently, sweetling. Is there really anything more that needs to be said?” Aveline stalks over. She stares at Fenris warily, but pushes herself between Merrill and Varric.  It’s weird to see her without her armor, her hair unkempt, and tired. Even after they buried Wesley, Aveline kept herself clean. “What?” she says. “What now?” Bethany says, “We need to decide now if we’re going to split up.” “No,” Hawke says immediately. “Hawke,” Aveline starts, but Hawke’s heart is pounding in their chest, and they feel like their sister has punched them in the stomach. They cannot think to lose them all. Merrill and Bethany aren’t enough, not after fleeing Kirkwall. They need more. They want their friends around them like a bulwark against the storm. The rain picks up outside, thunder shaking the woods, and Hawke feels momentarily reassured. They cannot split up just yet. “Ma vhenan,” Merrill says, “calm down. We’re here, right now.” Hawke looks at her. She looks so weary, so deeply sad. She left Clan Sabrae behind, or they left her, and who knows what they will face, with Sebastian occupying the city? Andrastians don’t like the Dalish, however hands-off and kind Sebastian’s missionary approach is. “Bethany, go on.” Bethany’s eyes flick to Hawke, then to Varric, and then to Avelien. Staring at Aveline, Bethany says, “We’re three mages, two elves, a dwarf, a pirate, and the Champion of Kirkwall. Aveline, you’re the only one of us who can move relatively...unmolested. And together we stick out. When we’d have to pack up, we were able to pass because we were a family, and Andrastian, and Mother was always good at talking to guards and templars. But everyone knows who the Champion is. Everyone knows they travel with a Dalish elf and the apostate who set the mages alight.” Hawke says, “When did you become a poet? Is that what they teach you in the Circle? And here I thought it was just blood magic.” Bethany scowls. “You know I’m right. Stop deflecting. You always do that, since Father died. I wish you wouldn’t. You can’t laugh this off this time. Our house has been destroyed. Our parents are dead. And there’s a warrant for your head, and mine too. And I don’t think that dragon lady is going to save us this time.” Hawke pushes Merrill off and stands up abruptly. “Then what do you suggest, Bethany?” they snap. “I got us out of Lothering, I got us into Kirkwall, I got us fucking out! With the help of a few miracles. So what do you think? Can you conjure something up?” “Hawke, sit down,” Aveline says. “Oh, come off it, Aveline,” Hawke says, exasperated. “You had your tantrum earlier, it’s my turn now.” They laugh at the sour face Aveline pulls. It is all utterly ridiculous, and they rejoice viciously as they make it all worse. “Stop joking? We’re a bad joke. A pirate, two apostates, and the Champion of Kirkwall get stuck in a cave. Got a punchline?” Aveline pulls herself up, and Hawke laughs again. “What? What are you going to do? Hit me? I thought you delegated that to your subordinates. Anybody know what happened to those elves who killed that guard who raped their sister? Aveline? Any guesses?” They step closer, staring right up in Aveline’s face. “Come on, it’s a helluva punchline!” And then Anders croaks, “Enough.” He paws at the collar of his robe. “I can’t breathe.” Fenris hurriedly unbuttons it for him, and Anders smiles at him. Fenris caresses the edge of his jaw, and Anders grabs his arm to level himself upright. Hawke deflates, relieved that he has woken up, and that it is him staring sternly at the lot of them, not Justice. Perhaps they can make it through this after all. “Well,” Aveline says, smiling despite herself. “The revolutionary himself. And not possessed. For once.” Anders grimaces, and gestures. Bethany gets up and pours him a glass of water. He downs it and clears his throat. “Din’mean to interrupt a good screaming match. But.” He rubs at his chest, over his heart, where the templar raised his Smite. “Hi?” He smiles awkwardly. None of them have planned this far. None of this saw this coming, except, perhaps, Anders--and Hawke knows for a fact he was hoping he was going to die in the battle, that fucking fool. Hawke swallows hard, tears springing to the edge of their eyes. These fucking fools: they all thought they were going to die before they got this far, didn’t they? “Don’t be cute,” Hawke says, voice breaking. “I’m mad at you. You were going to fucking let them kill you, you asshole.” They wipe at their eyes, cursing themselves. Bethany is looking at them in shock. Hawke musters a smile, casts about for a joke. “None of us planned this far, did we? None of us thought we were going to survive what Kirkwall was going to throw at us. But we did. And I for one think it’s more a miracle than that dragon dropping out of the sky to save us from the Blight. That we made it out alive. So let’s not throw that away. I don’t want us to separate.” They look at them all, their friends. “You lot are all I have left. All I want. And I don’t want to leave you behind.” Isabela bites her lip anxiously. “Aw, Hawke! And here I was going to sell you all to the Blind Men.” “Shut up and stop ruining the moment, Isabela,” Aveline says wearily. “Can we salvage this?” Varric offers, “Group hug?” Fenris says flatly, “No.” 17. “Hey, don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” With that, the tension dissolves, and Hawke begins to laugh. They throw themself down next to Fenris and pull him into a hug, messing his hair. “Gimme a hug!” they say. “I deserve it, I saved your sorry ass.” Fenris says, “Ugh.” He scowls but does not pull away. Aveline huffs and moves to Varric. Hawke can feel Varric glaring at them. They purposefully turn away from the two of them, grinning a tad maniacally at their other friends. The fissures are obvious. Hawke thinks, maybe it’s like the Fade, and they’ll go away if I don’t look at them. Merrill gets up and begins moving around the shelter, pulling together a meal. Bethany follows. Isabela creeps closer to Hawke, Fenris, and Anders, watching the others fondly. “Damn, Anders,” Isabela says. “I didn’t think you were going to be there when you woke up.” Anders winces. “I wasn’t so sure either,” he says quietly. Fenris tightens his grasp on his hand. Hawke worries that he is hurting him. They aren’t quite sure about the two of them, though they had almost felt themself falling off the precipice into love with both men. They have that intensity, that fervor, that adoration that feels akin to worship--but Merrill’s love is calm like the surf lapping at the shore at low tide, and Hawke is not yet another ship to wreck in the storm. Anders and Fenris seem tender, anyway--desperate, but tender. Hawke says, “So. Still alive then?” It comes out more sour than they intend. “Despite your best efforts.” Anders looks guilty. “I didn’t want to die,” he claims. Fenris looks away sharply, hair hiding his face. Anders bites his lip. “It wasn’t--well, I made it. You got me through. The wardens always said I’d go out with a bang.” Hawke starts to laugh, which is better than crying. “Wait until they hear about what you did in Kirkwall!” “Which was not a suicide attempt,” Fenris says meditatively. “So you say.” “It wasn’t. Fenris, you know it wasn’t.” “I do not want to discuss your propensity to self-destruction right now,” Fenris says, voice strained. “But we will.” Anders looks irritated. “It’s not self-destruction, it was basic self-preservation and you know I had no other option--” “Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Hawke suggests. “Somehow. Because we’re stuck in this cave until the rain lets out. And it’s the sort of situation where we need to rappel down, so we’d need to do it together.” “No,” Fenris says. “Hawke, back me up in this.” Hawke really does not want to get involved in this, but they have never been able to tell their friends when to learn some emotional continence. They sigh. “You let us know you were planning something. You told me we needed to prepare to flee. You did not tell me you were planning to blow up the Chantry!” Hawke shrugs. “To be fair, it was a little obvious, with the sela petrae.” Fenris gives them a dirty look. Hawke spreads out their hands. “What? Come on. Sela petrae, drakestones, all those dark murmurings in the sewers--I just thought it was more than a one-man show.” Anders smiles slightly. “Well, you know me. I like to hog the stage. I didn’t want to bring anyone down with me.” “Don’t I know it!” Isabela snorts. “And you were only three drinks in, too….” One day Hawke will have the bravery to ask exactly how the two met, and what they did. Today is not that day. They love their friends, truly, but they are so much, and today is too much, and they do not want to know. Fenris says, “I take exception to that.” He is very still. “‘Bring anyone down with you’--who do you think we are, then? Mere incidental acquaintances?” Isabela bumps Hawke’s shoulder. Hawke blinks. That means she wants them to make a joke. “Acquiantances to murder, you mean,” they try. “Uh. Accessories.” Isabela rolls her eyes. Everyone’s a critic, especially when your friend has tried to kill himself. Anger lights itself in the pit of their stomach. They swallow it, it isn’t productive, but testily, they say, “I helped you find the materials to make the bomb. You should have just told me, instead of trying to be a martyr. You’re my friend. I care about you. If we hadn’t done anything to stop Meredith, Bethany would’ve been made Tranquil too. I thought I made it obvious I supported you, we could’ve worked in tandem with the last of the Viscount’s family--it didn’t have to end like this. There could’ve been another way.” “No there couldn’t!” Anders stands up suddenly, eyes flashing blue. Merrill and Bethany turn around simultaneously from the mouth of the cave, and everyone’s attention is glued to him. Hawke notices Aveline’s hand drift to the handle of her sword, Varric fingers a bottle of knock-out powder he keeps at his waist, even Isabela already has a dagger in her hand. Anders wrestles Justice back. “There wasn’t,” he repeats. “I tried all other ways. Orsino too. Endlessly. When the Left Hand of the Divine came, I knew it was over. The Chantry would rather kill us than let us go. And I wasn’t going to sit down and let them brand me--” “I’m not disagreeing with that!” Hawke snaps. “I just--I’m your friend, Anders. We all are. I’ve known you for almost a decade. You did not have to do that alone. We’re just as implicated as you were ever going to be.” “Leliana used to be better,” Isabela says. “Before the Chantry got its claws in her again. But--we’re here now, aren’t we? Together?” She looks at them all pleadingly. “So do we have to fight? The decision was already made, why talk about it now?” Anders’ eyes flash again, but Fenris grabs his arm in a bruising grip, and Hawke winces. Isabela tends to agree with them, she hates anything that restricts herself and has enough empathy to hate prisons for other people--but Isabela hates conflict, and hates being trapped into defending a position. Anders and Fenris both need clear lines. Hawke puts their head in their hands, frustrated. Varric shakes his head angrily. “Because some of us didn’t want to be driven out of town,” he says. “Because some of us think killing a grand cleric is a fucking stupid way to try to convince people you’re not an evil abomination. Because some of us believe in using our words.” Hawke thinks, well that’s not where I wanted the conversation to go. They open their mouth to disagree, to defend, to protest, but Merrill gets there first. “Varric, please,” Merrill says. She is vibrating with tension. Hawke reaches for her, but Merrill brushes them off. “If it wasn’t going to be Anders, it was going to be me. Or Feynriel. My clan. That lyrium. Or even Hawke, you know Meredith was trying to push them out since they killed the Arishok. Varric, don’t do this. Please.” Varric’s face twists. Hawke is terrified again. He comes across as easy-going, but he disagrees with Anders on most things. Hawke had been afraid Varric and Aveline wouldn’t have fought with them against Meredith; both of them knew she was crazy, but neither of them like risks. They love Kirkwall and its structures, oppressive or not. But both of them are the reason why Hawke has made it thus far, from Lothering to a hole in the wall in the Free Marches, as it pours outside. Aveline got them to Kirkwall, Varric got them out of Lowtown. They’ve only made it this far because of them, and they don’t want to know how far they can go without them. “The pillow,” Varric says. “The fucking pillow.” He laughs shortly. “That’s what gets me, every time. You gave me it. And why? Because you didn’t want to deal with the fucking consequences. Your little revolution, your fucking lover, your clinic--you were ready to give it all away. Because you were done. You wanted your blaze of glory--and now we have to deal with it. Kirkwall, Kirkwall’s gone. The Hanged Man? Probably burnt to the ground. I know they went for your clinic. And Blighted Prince Charming’s seized all our assets and is tracking us like a bloodhound. Because you were pissed at the grand cleric. At the Chantry. So you decided to burn it all down, and leave us in the ashes.” Hawke says, slightly impressed, “Damn.” It is slightly better than what they were expecting, and at this point they are just relieved no one has hit anyone yet. Next to them Merrill relaxes slightly, and she slides her hand into theirs and squeezes it comfortingly. They are upset Anders prepared to die. They are upset he treated his revolution like suicide. They are so utterly relieved Varric is angry about that too, and not that he is still alive. Anders closes his eyes and sags visibly. He hugs himself, nails digging into his arms. Fenris says, “Don’t do that, you’re hurting yourself.” Anders gives him a wretched look. “Isn’t that all I do?” he murmurs. “No,” Varric says. “It isn’t, you asshole. You hang out with me, and that was a good choice. And I suppose Broody was a good idea too. How old are you know? Past the fucking age to know that when you hurt yourself, you hurt the people around you. Us. And I might not agree with you, I might really want to hit you right now--” “Varric,” Fenris says warningly, and Varric puts his hands up. “I didn’t say I was going to do it,” he says. Hawke shoots him an amused look: while Fenris is around, they finish silently. “But, anyway--I don’t actually want you to hurt. Else I wouldn’t have sunk so much cash into keeping the Carta off your back. Especially when you helped out with the strike. You owe me your fucking life. Live it.” Anders says, “I didn’t know you cared.” Varric says, “Fuck you. Hawke, I have terrible taste in friends.” “Don’t look at me,” Hawke says mildly. “I’m terrible too. I’m the one who went digging around in shit to get the explosives for him.” “So what now?” Isabela says. “Are we all good? Because the rain’s stopped, and we should get moving. Anders? You’re not going to blow yourself up? And Fenris, you’re not going to tear out Aveline’s throat? And Bethany--” “What?” Bethany calls from deep in the storeroom, where she is packing their bags with Aveline. “I’m staying out of this!” “You do that, carry on,” Isabela says. “Keep doing that.” They pack up, Fenris and Merrill fretting quietly over exactly how to write the apology in Elvhen and what wall on which to pin it up. Fenris speaks the dialect the clan whose storeroom they borrowed uses, but doesn’t know how to use their alphabet, and while Merrill knows the characters, she puzzles over the words. Hawke has managed to pick up over the years that Elvhen and its dialects are based on intent, and change according to the context. The two of them can’t seem to decide on how to convey the context of the situation, and disagree on what they are enmeshed in anyway. As the others bustle about packing, Varric walks to Hawke and gestures at the two arguing elves. “If I write about this,” he says, “I’m skipping over this part. Because I have completely lost the plot.” Hawke heaves their pack onto their back and whistles for their mabari to join them. “We’re all fucking pissed at each other, but we know that’ll pass. We’re not separating.” They smile. “We’re getting through this together, somehow.” Varric says, “I hope you’re right, Hawke. Because I’m not so sure anything is resolved.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 225: Interview with a Vampire

Previously on BnHA: The Shigaraki Squad (after some debate) set out to rescue Giran from the Liberation Army’s clutches. Tomura plans to sic Gigantomachia on them, although the guy is still a-snooze for the next two and a half hours, so who even knows how that’s gonna work. Anyways though, the rest of the gang, Dabi included (over his protests), arrived at the designated meeting location in Aichi prefecture to be greeted by none other than Slidin’ Go, because apparently you can’t fucking trust anyone nowadays. He led them to the center of the town, which turned out to be populated by members of Re-Des’s army, including his top brass. Everyone attacked at once, and the League set to work kicking ass and not even bothering to take names because they’re just gonna kill everyone anyway so who cares! The chapter ended with Toga gettin’ ready to throw down with Kizuki, a.k.a. my new badass lady villain fave who can blow shit up with her mind, holy crap.

Today on BnHA: The Liberation Army continues to battle the League, confident in their eventual win, mostly because Re-Destro has somewhat smugly deduced that the League currently has no Noumu to spare. Kizuki, who is apparently a journalist, faces off against Toga and hounds her with questions about her past. Seems she’s specifically the type of journalist that likes to harass people about all of the most personal and private details of their lives. Toga sets to work stabbing all of Kizuki’s redshirt goons and sucking their blood, but this winds up backfiring as Kizuki makes brutal use of her quirk to blow up said blood. So basically she explodes Toga from the inside out. Somehow Toga doesn’t fucking die, and although I Have Questions About This, we can save that for later since the story is moving forward with or without my suspension of disbelief, and next up on the agenda is a motherfucking Toga flashback, folks.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

hahaha

welcome to Deika City, population: villains

holy heck

so that’s how it is, huh Horikoshi. just make all of my jokes for me before I ever even get the chance. who cares if the references are American. it’s 2019 and our mangaka are international now. next up is Homestuck jokes. I feel attacked

anyway so we’re zooming in on the observation tower again. how nice. is Giran fucking dead yet I wonder

oh hey

not only is he not dead, he’s smiling and taunting RD in spite of having recently lost a hand piece by piece!

you guys. Giran is legit the most OG motherfucker in this entire series, dead to rights. I adore him

and he can’t say he wouldn’t love to watch all that unfold

by the way, getting back to that earlier panel for a second, it occurs to me that of the three “rescue” arcs we’ve had thus far, only one has featured an actual damsel, and that was a baby damsel at that. like, a six-year-old girl. so like, that was more about her being a small child than her being female. and meanwhile the “damsels” in the other two arcs consisted of (a) the toughest motherfucker in class 1-A, and now (b) the most hardboiled fucking guy in the entire series. and by contrast, female characters have played critical roles in all three arcs on the rescuing side, and now we’re about to see two lady villains fucking throw down

like, I know I give Horikoshi a lot of shit for not having more badass female characters, but a lot of that is because BnHA honest to god is a cut above most other shounen manga to begin with when it comes to feminism. and it just makes me want it to be even better, because I know it could be

god, I can’t wait to be reading manga like 20 years from now, though, when Japan is (hopefully) finally a bit more woke

anyway I went on a tangent there didn’t I. so yeah, Giran. MVP

holy shit

son of a bitch can we just take a moment to appreciate how good the villain of this villain arc has been so far, though? like, he’s straight up evil, but not in an obnoxious way like Stain or Overhaul. this piece of shit knows what he’s doing and is cold blooded as fuck and actually seems to have a plan! I hate him and he’s been awesome so far

anyway so here’s his three reasons then

brb just gonna :| about that a bit, and also wonder why the fuck we apparently don’t have anyone this smart on the heroes’ side. except Hawks, maybe. goddamn

although he’s slightly off the mark there though, isn’t he! it’s astounding to me how much these villains -- and well, everyone really, except Bakugou Fucking Katsuki -- are underestimating All for One, though. like, they really think he’s gone for good. Overhaul was out there trying to become the new kingpin, and now RD is smugly monologuing about how the weapons All for One left behind are all gone and the League has no remaining assets left. well, a month and a half ago you wouldn’t have been wrong, RD. but things have changed now pal

and shouldn’t he know about Gigantomachia, though? even the heroes know about that one. if they were spying on the League with a fucking satellite, wouldn’t they have noticed the giant boulder man continuously trying to crush Tomura for two-day stretches at a time??

you guys it’s going to be so fucking satisfying when Tomura crushes this jackass though

and we’ve got some very interesting quirks going on here! someone here seems to have a targeting scope, and they’re firing a fucking laser from their mouth like fucking shoop da whoop lmao

and then there’s that one dude about to throw a fucking Volvo at everyone. and lots of elemental quirks, and one guy who seems to look weirdly similar to Kurogiri. it’s like a fucking Where’s Waldo of villains though

what in the hot hell

??? !?!?

oh I see. so it’s exactly what it looked like

(ETA: but you guys why does it remind me of this:

?????)

Spinner what the fuck is your quirk!?!?

now we’re cutting back to Kizuki yesssssssssssss

she says that all of the army’s soldiers have undergone daily training. oh wow, whoopty freaking doo. good for you guys. so like every other character in this series, then

these “late starters” are going to whoop your ass and I’m so freaking here for it

oh dear

well there goes a great deal of my fondness for Kizuki straight out the fucking door. asshole journalists are pretty high up there on my list of types of people that I hate

(ETA: you know what though, I like that she has a unique personality. even if it’s one that annoys me. she doesn’t just blend in, unlike some other villains I could name (there were eight of them, and they were named after Buddhist precepts, hint hint). plus she really does have the best quirk in the business. Kizuki you’re a real piece of work but I respect you dammit.)

anyway Toga so whose ass do you want to kick first. you got this girl I believe in you

:DDDDDDDD

probably shouldn’t be loudly cheering at this man’s extremely gruesome murder. and yet. here we are

lmaoooooooooooo

while you were talking my girl up and absconded hahaha

friendly reminder that Toga Himiko is like #9 on my list of favorite characters and I would kill for her! I stan one (1) fearless bloodthirsty bitch

wow

all right, geez! fuck, y’all are real sensitive about a little attempted murder

so now Kizuki is asking Toga what kind of life she’s led to end up like this

I honestly want for nothing more than for Toga to have not had any sort of tragedy in her young life whatsoever, and to just be Like That. please. Horikoshi. this better be good

(ETA: it’s mostly good! we’re fine.)

anyway so Toga’s crashing through some stunt glass in the front window of some janky little bar, and skidding to her feet because she’s amazing and won’t let a little thing like being flung through a storefront window stop her

but as she skids, Kizuki is telling her to watch her step and Toga’s looking behind her, startled

oh fuck

joke’s on you, Toga’s amazing and won’t let a little thing like being blown to bits stop her

...right?

(ETA: lol)

interesting that the word “superpower” was used again here instead of “quirk”! what the hell do these guys have against that word anyway. I get that they’re following Destro who laid down the law in his book which is basically their personal bible, but that shit was like 200 years ago though. ah well, cults are weird

anyway so her quirk is Legit though, ngl. what can I say, I have a weakness for quirks that go boom

haha so Toga is fucking fine apparently and she’s sitting there kind of smoking a little and looks a little singed but otherwise not too worse for wear

there’s about half a dozen people attacking her from all sides, though. one of them is carrying a giant stock pot. that shit better not have boiling water in it. listen Liberation Army do you guys want to die fast or slow

oh shit

looks like my girl went and made that decision for you huh

oh my god

finally an explanation for the mask!! after... 150 chapters. holy shit

anyways. thirsty girl. Horikoshi’s got me out here rooting for some decidedly morally grey people, sob, and I ain’t even mad

so Kizuki looks very excited and is realizing that ingesting people’s blood is what lets Toga transform into them. so I guess she knew about her quirk, but not the mechanics of it

(ETA: her interest in this makes sense, though, as it explains the whole “attacked her classmate with a knife and sucked all his blood” thing.)

omg

(ETA: hey, we never did get an explanation for this! Toga are we still waiting on part two of your flashback where you interned at Cirque du Soleil.)

lady. me too. I’m still mad at you, but. we’re on the same side in this instance

DSFKJSDLFKJDSKHFS

NEVER FUCKING MIND!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK

FUCKING -- BUT THEN --

WELCOME TO BNHA WHERE CHARACTERS WILL INDEED DO ALL OF THE FUCKED UP SHIT YOU WERE WONDERING IF THEY WERE CAPABLE OF DOING WITH THEIR POWERS. HOLY SHIT

(ETA: I mean, it’s brutal and I’m mad she hurt my girl, but I’m also so impressed that Kizuki went and used her quirk in such a logical and devastating way. haha but Toga should still be dead though.)

so Kizuki is chiding Toga for attempting to disappear into the crowd, and she says she’s taken measures to ensure that she goes along with her interview

oh my god. fuck her up Toga please. make it hurt. girl

so now she’s bragging about how their soldiers will gladly become detonators! wow!

I love how Horikoshi makes the distinction between villains who at least care about their own, and villains who don’t give a fuck about anybody. like, the League is still evil -- Toga stabbed a man in the neck not ten pages ago -- but there’s no doubt whatsoever who we’re supposed to root for her. Toga is just as crazy as this lady, but she tied a handkerchief around Twice when his mask got torn. meanwhile Kizu blows up her own subordinates so she can get the hot goss from her victims before she murders them

OH HEY TOGA BACKSTORY

(ETA: I’m not sure if the phrase “eldest daughter” implies she has siblings? the flashback wasn’t exactly clear on that either. imagine the drama though! omg.)

this! I’m here for this! details without context! if you show us the context you had better not try to make it all saccharine, Horikoshi, do you hear??

MORE DETAILS

because she felt like it, Kizuki. fuck off

I love the description of her as a bright and reasonable girl, though. back when she first disguised herself as Camie I suspected that it might be her, but it seemed far-fetched because she showed herself capable of being perfectly logical and sane while disguised, and it was a side of her we’d never seen before. but I love that, though. I love that Toga’s particular brand of being unhinged doesn’t require her to be dumbed down. she’s brilliant. she just also happens to really, really like stabbing people

fffffffffdslkaj

(ETA: just for the record, I’m not on Team This Guy Is Somehow Related To Deku, sorry guys. he does look like him, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s just a coincidence. Deku is frequently described as having a very ordinary, plain appearance, so I don’t think it necessarily means anything if we happen to see another minor character who bears a slight resemblance. who knows, though, maybe I’m wrong. we’ve had important characters make their first appearance as background characters before -- Kirishima and Ms. Joke come to mind -- so it’s possible! but for the time being I think the likelihood is fairly low.)

TOGA YOU BETTER NOT DIE. YOU BETTER MURDER THIS LADY WITHOUT GIVING HER THE ANSWER SHE SO DESPERATELY CRAVES, AND ONLY THEN THINK THE ANSWER TO YOURSELF AND YOURSELF ALONE. AND THE ANSWER BETTER BE SOMETHING LIKE YOU WERE TIRED OF BEING NICE AND WANTED TO BE YOUR ACTUAL CRAZY SELF

so help me god you guys I’m like two seconds away from adopting a serial killer. she will not get along with her other siblings and it will not be pretty. but I love her though omg

(ETA: yeah it’s done. it’s a done deal. the boys can look after themselves so it’s not a problem, and Eri... well they’ll just have to keep an eye on Eri. as long as they don’t leave the two of them alone it should be fine! Mirio will look after her.

what even is my current adopted kid count anyways. let’s see... Katsuki, Izuku, Shouto, Mirio, Tamaki, Eri, Hawks, and now Toga. am I missing anyone. -- oh right, Shinsou! so that’s nine. plus the 17 other 1-A kids who are quasi-adopted as well. shit, did I adopt Tomura. I think I was on the fence. my fictional family is getting so complicated lol.)

lol sob

yes Toga you’re so normal. and she likes the Liberation Army sob. of course she does. she likes them so much she’s gonna murder the shit out of them

how is that the end of the chapter. shit. one more week to go and then the Golden Week break fffffff Horikoshi you’d better be kind to us with next week’s cliffhanger. please. omg

(ETA: no complaints whatsoever. that was some good shit.)

[purplecloaks]

Custom Made, Part Fifty-Eight

Bjorn x OC, Ubbe x OC, Hvitserk x OC, Ivar x OC

Everything tag: @squirrelacorngliterfarts @kawennote09

Custom made tag: @kingbouji3 @maybe-a-winchester @sdcyumyum

           I follow Ivar to the boats, walking a little further behind than usual. I haven’t let him touch me.

           “It’s time!” Ivar says. He sits on the edge of the boat. “How I’ve been impatient. Now I can finally fulfill my promise to the gods and kill Lagertha.”

           Hvitserk pulls him into the ship. He then helps me in. I sit as far away from Ivar as possible.

           “I’m ready to avenge our mother. Not because she was a good mother to me, but because Lagertha deserves it.” Hvitserk says.

           “That’s good enough to me. But are you ready to deal with Ubbe? Will you kill him if you have to, even if he is your own flesh and blood?” Ivar says.

           “If I kill Ubbe, won’t my face be assured?” Hvitserk asks. He walks away.

           Ivar laughs. “That’s the way to talk!”

           Hvitserk bends down to my height. “How are you?”

           I shrug.

           “Do you need anything?” He asks.

           “Just stay close please.” I say.

           “Of course.” He says.

           I look over at Ivar. He’s talking to Bishop Heahmund. He hands him a sword. I close my eyes and lean back, wishing this were over.

           “My love.” Ivar calls out when we’re at sea.

           “Please don’t call me that.” I say.

           “Why not? You are my wife, are you not?” He says.

           “I don’t know, am I?” I ask.

           “What does that mean?” Ivar asks.

           “Do husbands take their wives against their wills?” I hiss.

           He glares at me but says nothing.

           Even though I am mad at him, I sit in his chariot when we are on the battle field. It makes my skin crawl to be this close to him. He tries to touch my face, but I swat him away. He looks hurt.

           Ivar sends Hvitserk and Harald out to talk to Bjorn and Halfdan. When Harald comes back he has Halfdan with him as a hostage.

           Back at camp I sit next to Astrid.

           “This is madness.” Halfdan says.

           “Is it? You are here where you belong. Don’t deny it. Why would you fight for Lagertha or Bjorn? They are not your folk.” Harald says.

           “Bjorn saved my life. Isn’t that reason enough?” Halfdan says.

           “Not really. We all choose to live a dangerous life. That is part of our way. So I think that you give what happened between you and Bjorn too much importance.” Ivar says.

           “Family has a greater claim. I don’t want to fight against you. I don’t want to have to kill you. The world would make no sense.” Harald says.

           “I suppose none of this makes any sense to him anyway.” Halfdan says.

           “He’s a great warrior. He doesn’t need anything to make sense.” Ivar says.

           “By the gods, Ivar, you are just so cynical.” Halfdan says.

           Ivar chuckles.

           “You just don’t care, do you?” Halfdan asks.

           “I care about winning this war. Halfdan you have to choose between a friend or a brother. To me, the answer is obvious.” Ivar says. He pours his cup of ale out and crawls away. I don’t follow.

           “The Lord hath said unto me, thou art my son; this day I have begotten you. Appeal to me and I shall grant nations into your own inheritance, and I shall extend your authority over the borders of nations. And I will make you control them with an iron rod, and you might break them as easily as the potter can break a pot.” Heahmund says then he follows Ivar.

           I roll my eyes.

           “You are a part of my fate. As I am a part of yours. Stay.” Harald says to Halfdan.

           At the meeting I sit beside Ivar.

           “We all know today we have so many shield maidens and warriors at arms that we must decide whether we fight or we reach an accommodation allowing us to go live our lives with integrity and honor.” Bjorn says. “I call upon my brothers, Ivar…Hvitserk. Let’s put aside our differences, for the sake of our father. A civil war can only bring tragedy, weaken our family, and set in train a lifetime of revenge obligations for those who manage to survive! Is that really what you all want?”

           “I want to speak up and support Bjorn, and his call for a peaceful resolution. It is true I set my face against my brother. But if you can forgive me, Ivar, let us make an accord.” Ubbe says.

           “We are going to war for the Kingdom of Kattegat. The Kingdom of Kattegat was carved out by my husband Ragnar Lothbrok, and then by me. I am its rightful Queen. What we should be discussing is how we combine our great armies, and direct them out towards new lands, new conquests, new opportunities. What a terrible pity to kill our young men for a piece of land which is already ours.” Lagertha says. “Astrid! I am happy to see you again. Whatever has happened, I don’t want to fight you. Astrid!”

           “I am married now. I am King Harald’s wife.” Astrid says.

           “Queen Astrid, I suppose.” Lagertha says.

           “Brother, let’s not fight. What can we gain? Nothing.” Halfdan says.

           “On the contrary. We will gain the world. Join us and I will share it with you.” Harald says.

           “It is really up to you, Ivar. If you decide that you cannot fight against your brothers, that you do not want to fight against your brothers, then we can find an accord. And King Harald can’t stop us.” Bjorn says.

           “You have so much to lose, Ivar. If you want war, then let’s have war. But win or lose, you lose. You gain victory over the other sons of Ragnar and people will say that you are an illegitimate ruler and usurper. And if you lose, they will say it was by the will of the gods and the will of Ragnar, who now sups with them in Valhalla, and cries for us now.” Lagertha says.

           “Do not do this Ivar. We are the sons of Ragnar. Is that not enough for any man?” Ubbe says.

           Ivar is quiet for a while. Then he stands.

           “Bring horns of mead. We should celebrate. There will be no battle today. Nor tomorrow.” Ivar finally says.

           “What are you talking about? You cannot decide this!” Harald says as he stands.

           “I do not want to fight against my brothers. I still hate myself for killing Sigurd. This would be ten times worse. And I know my wife does not wish for me to fight against Lagertha, who she loves. I can’t.” Ivar says. “I renounce my promise to kill Lagertha. She can have Kattegat. I don’t want it.” He walks over to Ubbe. “Ubbe, you’re right. We are all sons of Ragnar. Forgive me.”

           I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t believe him for a minute. I get a cup of mead when it is passed around but I don’t drink it yet.

           “Skol!” Lagertha says.

           “Skol!” Everyone else says.

           Harald pours his mead on the ground.

           Ivar smiles and then throws his mead in Ubbe’s face. “How blue are my eyes, huh?”

           “What?” Ubbe asks.

           “How blue are my eyes?” Ivar shouts.

           “You’re eyes are very blue.” Ubbe says.

           “Mmm. You remember I had to ask you every single morning how blue the whites of my eyes were? Because if they were very blue, I was in great danger of breaking a bone.” Ivar says.

           “Yes I remember. It was a big part of my childhood, ‘how blue are Ivar’s eyes today?’” Ubbe says.

           “I might break a bone, but I can never break a promise. I can never forgive Lagertha for murdering our mother. How can you? Hmm? How can you?! Hmm? Our mother! Of course I’m going to kill her!” Ivar says.

           “You can try.” Lagertha says.

           “Oh, I will.” Ivar says.

           “You said you wouldn’t fight your brothers.” Ubbe says.

           “You are no longer my brother. You were once my legs but not anymore.” Ivar says.

           Harald starts laughing.

           I throw my cup on the ground.

           “This was all a waste of time.” Ubbe says.

           “No. Not at all. You can surrender Kattegat now. You’ve all been talking about how terrible the slaughter will be. How we will kill our nearest relations and member of our family. Da da. I don’t want to do that. Let us not do it. You. Bjorn. Lagertha. Just go away. Leave this place. Do not put your men to the test.” Ivar says.

           Bjorn and Ubbe draw their swords. Then everyone draws their swords. My heart stutters. The men holding flags around us point them at the opposing side. Lagertha stops Ubbe from getting any closer to us.

           “Not now.” She says.

           Ivar turns and walks away. “Ingrid come on.” He shouts over his shoulder.

           I hesitate. I don’t want to be anywhere near Ivar. I vaguely notice that Harald and Halfdan are having a conversation.

           “Ingrid!” Ivar yells.

           Lagertha is staring at me, almost as if she can read my mind.

           And then I run towards her. I almost fall into her arms.

           “Save me.” I gasp out.

           “What’s going on?” She asks.

           “Keep Ivar away from me, please. I beg of you.” I say. I turn back to look at him. His eyes are wide, and I can almost see the anger shimmering around him.

           “Get her!” He yells.

           Lagertha pushes me behind her. “She’s with us now!”

           “She’s my wife!” He yells.

           “Go.” She whispers to me. I run from her arms into Ubbe’s. He kisses my forehead. Lagertha starts backing away.

           “Ingrid!” Ivar yells out.

           “She doesn’t want to be with you.” Lagertha says.

           “Come on. We can’t be here all day.” Hvitserk says and pulls on Ivar’s shoulder.

           Ivar starts to leave, but I know this won’t be the end of this. He will hunt me forever.

           When we get back to Lagertha’s camp, Ubbe sits me down and tries to calm me down. Lagertha, Bjorn, Torvi, and Halfdan join us.

           “Why did you leave?” Bjorn asks. “Are you sent here to spy?”

           I shake my head quickly as Lagertha says “There was too much fear in her voice. Something is going on, Bjorn.” She bends down to my height. “What happened?”

           “Ivar raped me.” I say quietly. Lagertha immediately takes me in her arms and holds me. I let out a sob.

           “Why would he do that?” Ubbe asks. His eyes are wide and wild.

           “He found out I was using herbs to prevent a pregnancy and got upset.” I sob.

           “So you might be with child?” Bjorn asks.

           “It’s possible.” I say.

           Torvi bends down and tries to comfort me as well. “We won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

           “You are safe here.” Lagertha says. She wipes the tears away from my eyes and kisses my cheeks.

           I stay back at camp during the fighting. I pray to the gods that no one I care about will die. That’s all I do while they’re away. Pray and cry.

[kickflipradio-blog]

Too Much Monkey Business: 4 Songs Talking Rhythm In Rhyme

A tongue twister, battle cry blood blister. Rhythmic rhyme, why don’t people do it all the time!? Now, There are a few reasons that make Chuck Berry a nasty rotten jailbird. There is also an awesome amount of evidence that explains why he is the master and the poet laureate of Rock N Roll. Chuck went on to influence countless pockets, patches and blankets of culture; he will as long as human beings exist. It’s just in the chemistry. The chain reaction since the dawn of time and he was a big link in the chain.

The dude started a trend of songwriting that would later lead to music that remains infinite in our human existence. He has songs himself such as Johnny B. Goode and Maybelline that will forever be heard as the roots of Rock N Roll. These songs put Chuck in the stars, but his poetic, rhythmic genius is completely exposed with one track in particular. Written and released as his 5th single from Chess Records, A track titled, Too Much Monkey Business, was released in September of 1956. A song that runs a string of complaints in a whimsical, humorous, ironic fashion.

“Run and to and fro,

Hard-working at the mail,

Never fail at the mail,

Here comes a rotten bale.”

Or how about,

“Pay phone

Something wrong

Dime gone

Well I oughta’ sue the operatah’

For tellin’ me a tale...ahhh”

Too Much Monkey Business with Lyrics

The rebellion of routine recognized. The “botheration” expressed in rhythm and rhyme. A comedic, Shakespearean perspective on everyday life is thrown into a two minute and fifty-three-second track. Listen to Chuck’s attack on,

“Same thing, every day,

gettin’ up, goin’ to school,

no need me to be complaining,

my objection overruled...ahhh”

Badass attitude. Tone makes everything. From the tone in a sunset, to how you talk to your mother. This rabble-rouser tone is nearly mimicked later in 1965 when the world would get flipped and swing the “Gates of Eden” open to a cultural renaissance.

The boot that kicked clean through the barn door, where culture was lying dormant, opens up with Bob Dylan’s evolution of “Another Side.” The opening track on the debut of Dylan’s electric brilliance, puffs up, slicks back and bohemianizes Chuck’s “Monkey Business.” Subterranean Homesick Blues reflects the rhythm and rhyme of Too Much Monkey Business and is righteously reinvented.

“Maggie comes fleet foot,

Face full of black soot,

Talking that heat put plants in the bed but

Phone’s tapped anyway,

Maggie say ‘the men they say must bust in early may,’

Orders from the DA.”

Dylan attacks the ironic unfairness of expectation that society holds, much as Chuck does, but Dylan nearly interrogates it under a spotlight. It’s like Dylan has this special lens that allows us to observe a million little ants who don’t know how the hell to work together and they’re all bumping into each other, trying to figure it out. Chuck is more day to day, profile to profile, person to person. Dylan reaches a bit further going chapter to chapter. Verse by verse he compares the hustle of the city to the hustle of the farm; hinting at civil rights, cultural phenomenons, stuff like that. Dylan is literally warning you “Look out kid, this is what this hard life has to offer, here are some obstacles I’ve observed along the way; let me explain in my alien-like, Shakespearean, Chuck Berrian original dialect.

“Get Born (Get Woke eh? Dylan was woke AF, am I right?) keep warm,

Short pants romance,

Learn to dance,

Get dressed, get blessed,

Try to be a success*,

Please her, please him, buy gifts,

Don’t steal, Don’t lift,

20 years of schoolin’ and they put you on the day shift.”

*In the famous music video Dylan shoots in 1965 for Subterranean Homesick Blues, he flips through poster cards that follow the lyrics of the song. When the line “Try to be a success,” comes up, Dylan holds a card that reads, “SUCKCESS.” His warning is rhetoric and my personal interpretation is that this world kind of tells you to try to be a kiss ass, suck a lil pee pee maybe? On another note, he also holds a card up that reads “It’s hard” during the line “hard to tell if anything if gonna sell try hard, get Bard” The warning plays back simple and clear, “it’s hard.” Also telling everyone to “get bard,” get hip to willy the shake….Billy Shakespeare.

Subterranean Homesick Blues Music Video

Two rhythmically similar approaches to songs, that paved the way to a new way of thinking. An honest, hysterical, fresh way of thinking. The Earth is perfect, but the world is unfair and the human species is competitive. The real heroes are the honest ones who can practice patience, recognize and relay that reflection of chaos and stupidity that we, as a whole culture and species, are functioning under.

So the 70s happen and most of the 80s happen where time has allowed generations to digest the cultural phenomenon and renaissance that occurred at the latter half of the 20th century. This band in November 1987 puts out a single that supposedly was inspired by being hyper-aware, anxiety, and a dream in which a party was full of people who all had the initials,  L.B. The 80s-indie rock band R.E.M. releases It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine). To be honest, I thought this song was a 90s song, and it certainly sounds like it could have come out in 1993. R.E.M.: great band; ahead of their time.

“Six o'clock, T.V. hour, don't get caught in foreign tower

Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn

Lock him in uniform, book burning, bloodletting

Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate

Light a candle, light a motive, step down, step down

Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh

This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear

A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies

Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline”

More stream of consciousness and way more chaotic, surreal and nonsensical. However, the songwriter, Michael Stipe still created a piece that belongs in this group of rhythmic rhyme. It’s a whimsical perspective on the human tragedy. Its’ surreal, revolving, apocalyptic take, still hints at rebellion and liberty from societal routine. ‘Everyday at 6pm, the news comes on and oh boy look at all this chaos...yipee! Maybe I should do something about it, light a candle for someone, try to get some action going on the streets….ah there’s so much to do and nobody’s listening and they’re telling me not to do it anyway, but ah fuck it.’ Songwriter, Michael Stipe effectively carries on the similar cynical helplessness in this fun, whimsical rhythmic rhyming pattern we see from Berry and Dylan. It’s possible I’ve missed other examples in between 1965 and 1987, and if did, please let me know! I’d love to hear from you and talk music history!

It’s The End of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) Music Video

2 years later, Billy Joel writes and releases a single in July of 1989 that captures accurate historical moments and tense emotion spanning from the end of the Second World War to the present day of 1989. We Didn’t Start The Fire continues the legacy of Too Much Monkey Business with the rhythmic rhyming pattern that Chuck started back in 1956. Joel uses historical points as well as cultural and political icons to reflect the human collection of events that are placed on the scales of judgment. A moral test of ourselves. Chuck’s rolling eyes from “botheration,” Dylan’s weighted tongue sticking out at America’s societal routine, Stipe’s dizzying anxiety of becoming overwhelmed and now Joel’s judgment.

Joel steps back and looks, not only at America but the world to examine, essentially, the ripple that has been rolling since the bombing at Hiroshima using the same rhythmic-rhyming method as Chuck and Bob nearly 3-4 decades prior. I like to think of where these artists were when they were picking up influence for a piece like this. Was Joel listening to R.E.M. a couple of years prior on the radio and heard something click in his head? He had to be a fan of Chuck and Bob. Maybe he wasn’t even conscious of the similarities.

We Didn’t Start The Fire Montage

We Didn’t Start The Fire Official Music Video

We Didn’t Start The Fire- The chorus implies that the generations before us kind of made a mess so big that the next generation could never avoid stepping in it. Now I get that my tone may sound negative, but with a grander perspective, it doesn’t have to be so cynical. In fact, I think that Chuck and Bob use a more of an ironic, cynical tone as opposed to Billy who uses more of a mature, mediating tone. ‘Okay so, I wasn’t in existence when y’all were throwing shit on the fire, but now I guess I’m here and it’s all kind of getting out hand...maybe we should do something about it? No? Maybe? Yea, we should probably take care of this, right?’

“We didn’t start the fire, we didn’t light it but we’re trying to fight it.”

The 80s gave us a heroic tone and hopeful songs about changing for the better and the how the world had to take a good look at itself in order to do so. Joel still uses a great amount of condemning and controversial examples of how the world isn’t in its best state.

“Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon Back Again (Whoops)

Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock.

Begin, Reagan, Palestine, terror on the airline.

Ayatollah’s in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan

“Wheel of Fortune”, Sally Ride, heavy metal, suicide

Foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS crack, Bernie Goetz

Hypodermics on the shores, China’s under martial law

Rock and roller cola wars, I can’t take it anymore.”

In the end, it seems that it all has become too much. There is still hope in this song. The other three don’t hold the tone of hope as much as they do cynicism and tragic hilarity. Subterranean Homesick Blues and Too Much Monkey Business complain and warn us, as It’s the End of the World  As We Know It is more like a kid punching one fist in the air offering incomprehensible stream of consciousness with a radical attitude.

How the four differ: Bob doesn’t use a chorus, he uses a hook, “Look out Kid, It’s something you did, don’t matter what you did, you’re gonna get hit, they keep it all hid.” The other three have a distinct repetitive chorus separate from the verses. Bob throws the hook in the latter half of each verse to bring his thought around to a satisfying conclusion only to continue kickin’ that rock n roll. Like I said, a boot through a barn door.

We can conclude that these four tunes share multiple patterns and techniques that make them stand out from other songs. We witness an evolution of the observation of societal decline. They all use quick, rhythmic rhyming patterns that make these songs catchy, memorable and well...hit singles. Make a playlist with these four songs in order from Too Much Monkey Business to We Didn’t Start The Fire. Find out for yourself. Let me know if you discover anything. Let’s talk about it!

There aren’t many songs like these four, and well this article/blog/piece-whatever you want to call it- is just recognizing that and nothing more. Maybe we can learn something from it...but I’m just going to try writing a quick, witty, whimsical, ironic, rhythmic, rhyming observation on the societal decline and see what comes out. Maybe it’ll be a “hit single” yea right..and maybe roosters won’t peck me every time I try to give ‘em a kiss!

Aloha and always cheers,

Fisher the Lloyd