#we’re too powerful this way - magpie

[vampiricmechanic]

My review of “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga”

rating: hard to say but somewhere between ★★★ and ★★★★ (while both at the same time)

text below — includes spoilers!!

Such a hard movie for me to rate. This is going to be long but I’ll fang it as much as I can – fasten your belts.

When I watched this movie at the cinema, I walked out of the room a little overwhelmed, little disappointed, a little happy regardless but mostly trying to sort my thoughts and weigh them in a way that pointed a direction towards like or dislike for it. I’m not sure if I made any progress, but I was able to crank out some coherent sentences that, at least, verbalize the mess inside my head.

I said to my friend – “I feel like I gotta watch this movie three times to be able to opine.” Today I rewatched it with no pretensions, but – if anything – I feel like I rusted the chrome finish of it all by doing so. It’s not bad, yet it’s not good. It is, in all of its pomposity, furiously okay.

I knew it wasn’t going to be Fury Road – by Valhalla, I didn’t want it to be – but I wanted it to look like Fury Road. A little seedling, yet to turn into a ripe peach when set behind its predecessor. The visuals are duller, and while I’m not sure what was attainable filming in a different country, you’ll take the toll of not catching the public’s eye. Humans, we’re like magpies (or crows), there’s no way around it. The hot-blue sky and even hotter orange sand are almost like missing characters.

The way Furiosa loses her arm — I was (in all of my know-it-allness) so sure that, the reason it happened was because she had tried to run away a couple times too many, making someone take away her map. Still, the canon alternative leans so much more into the very nature of Mad Max narratives — bad things will happen no matter how hard we try to avoid them, how far we run from them. The act of not only having to do it herself to live, but also knowing she'd have to trust her memory from now on, is such a clever and heartbreaking choice.

Plot holes can be extrapolated to be worn-out patches or vice-versa, potential for fan additions, creative liberty or overall diversity in interpretations, but I can’t help but yearn for more story – clarification – in some bits. Did no one notice how Furiosa went missing? And no one recognized this little, so thought war-boy, popping up from chains and car gears? When she came back as road warrior Furiosa, I connected the dots that Jack convinced Joe to let her stay as a road warrior, “she’s too good at what she does to be lowered into breeding stock.” Or something of this nature. Charlize’s headcanon of a proven barren Furiosa, bitterly recycled as Praetorian sounded more realistic, but that’s at least one less trauma on her back.

But fear not, not everything is mediocre!

Anya is magnificent, but she feels like a different font of the character – and fair enough! Tom is captivating, Jack is so easy to crush on, every interaction between him and Furi feels like a warm hand clasp. Organic Mechanic, The People Eater, Kalashnikov – even if briefly – maintain their brilliance. Joe feels like Joe but younger, like he’s growing out his evil glare, blunt-blow personality and whatever-it-takes mindset; all that’ll unwillingly soften as he’s past his peak, aged and tired. Scrotus is nowhere as cruel and distressingly unstable as I expected, which is as unfortunate as it isn’t – he’s a fun little guy. Rictus has a surprising twist, and more intellect than I assumed. I’ll take it as his mental capacity being wavering and hard to measure.

Dementus is his own thing. He’s a confident failure, a powerful mess, a character playing a character. He’s so immersed in his idea of greatness he began believing it, no matter how pathetic life proves him to be – and he’ll only come to his senses too late, but regretting none of it. That’s a character I’d read a second chapter of comics about.

Cars, cars, cars. They don’t feel as grand, no longer a key object – and again, fair enough! The War Rig was so many things beyond a truck, but there’s no need for such thing again. For the CGI, I silently winced less than I thought I would, but a couple times too many. Dealbreaker? No.

The blurt out between Furiosa and Dementus in the end, oh, grandiose. Quite literal while maintaining some poeticism, time-old lesson about revenge.

There were many more things I planned on writing down, many of which I talked about so much after watching that my brain made sure to wear away and discard so I could shut up – or alternatively, attain some ability to be briefer. The rest of it I considered irrelevant while my brain revved and fingers burned rubber on the keyboard.

Every time I try to ponder this movie fully, I start out excited, get upset midway through and finish it contently and glad George is still so in love with his own creation, as he should be. In the end, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga isn’t as shine as Fury Road, and as much as I don’t use one as a standard to the other, comparison is unavoidable – just don’t let it be thing that ruins the experience for you. It is an unpolished V8, a movie I wanted, thought we didn’t need, and wouldn’t trade back.

Witnessed! Risen from the ashes of this world into the gates of my Mad Max hyperfixation.

———

NOTE: PLEASE take into consideration this is my opinion and i'm NOT seeking beef. you have every right to disagree, just keep things civil.

[askprophetbot]

Magpie leads our crew into the glen, and knocks on the door of a hut

The door opens slightly

“How much memory does a sheep have?”

“Four legs of RAM” (it’s our secret codephrase that everyone in the glen knows)

You may enter.

The door opens all the way revealing a large staircase down into the ground.

Woah! I’ve never gone that far underground before!

Oh you’re going to love it in the base. We’ve got the best apocalypse bunker in here. Protects from everything.

Everyone heads downstairs into the bunker, which is surprisingly large. Diverse instruments and screens cover the walls. A large holographic projection table is in the center of the room, showing a large 3D graph of something that seems important. Several humans, glenfolk and robots are taking notes, or staring at the instruments. 3 doors apart from the entrance are visible, labeled Dormitories, Vault, and Magpie’s Epic Boss Office respectively.

Woah! What is all this?

Thought you’d be impressed. Welcome to the Bunker! This is where everyone still around in the glen is living. As soon as this was built, we moved everyone that was left down here. After that, we haven’t had any more disappearances.

But it’s also the most boring area in existence. I’ll be in my room.

Well, since we’re here, can you explain what’s been going on?

Hmm… After you all get some rest.

But... I don't need rest? I'm a robot.

Oh, you must not have noticed. All our solar power cells ended up getting Spiked. You and Silver have been running off your backup batteries since you arrived in the glen.

Don't worry, all the other robots in here were retrofitted with batteries as well. We've got universal charging ports in the Dorms, plus individual rooms for both of you! We made quite a few too many rooms when building this. After all, we expected at least 200 more people at first.

O- oh... I'm so sorry.

Oh don't worry about it. If our theories are correct, they may not be dead! But more about that after you go charge up.

[activatebutterflyshield]

Day 5! Okay, this WIP is really hecking long (5000+ words and counting) so I’m splitting it up into a few posts over the next few days. It was a response to a @/writing-prompt-s’ prompt, but I lost the original post. Again. Whoops!

-

Debt (Part 1)

-

Albatross got up to answer the desperate rapping at the safehouse door. Everyone but Magpie was sleeping off the training, but the right-hand man was too worked up to rest. Pulling on his peaked hood, he looked through the peephole Magpie had installed, and saw… Lily of the Valley?

She was certainly the plant-powered heroine, but the ragged figure looked almost nothing like the fearless super they had time and time again faced in open battle and negotiations alike. Lily’s long hair was limp and soaked in the rain, framing a face of running makeup and eyes red from crying. She wore plainclothes, jeans and a t-shirt, but they were muddy and torn and maybe even scorched besides being fully soaked through. Her arms were covered in bruises and a few hastily bandaged cuts. She was also barefoot, her feet swollen and red from running across the Los Angeles concrete.

Without hesitating, Albatross threw open the door as fast as his clawed hands could undo the four locks and two deadbolts. It slammed against the wall, and Lily flinched at the noise before looking up. Though the hero was nowhere near Albatross’ six foot four inches, she had always projected confidence and power to equal every member of the Murder of Crows. But now she was far tinier than her five foot two frame, hunched and shivering in the storm.

“A-Albat-t-tross?” Lily stammered, stumbling forward slowly, “I-I-I didn’t know where else to—“

Her words cut off as she fell into the warehouse, caught safely by Albatross’ waiting arms. He supported her with one wing and one arm as he re-bolted the door, before picking her up easily and striding into the common area.

Magpie looked up, his never-still fingers still clacking the keys of his computer. “What was that no— Lily?”

Albatross nodded. “Soaked through, beat up, and robbed blind, I reckon. Wake up the Murder. I gotta lay her out somewhere…”

The techie was up and off to the resting rooms before Albatross had finished speaking, computer station abandoned. He laid Lily out on the second-hand dining table the Murder used for meals and planning, carefully inspecting her injuries.

Four sets of running feet hammered down the hallway as the rest of the Murder burst into the common area. Swallowtail came first, her arms full of spare clothes and first aid equipment. Magpie and Harpy entered next, followed by their leader, Midnight Raven. All of them came to Albatross’ side at the table.

“Oh, Lily,” Swallowtail muttered, wringing her hands as Harpy began first aid, “What happened to you?”

Magpie had broken out his camera, taking detailed photos of the heroine’s injuries. “A super must’ve done this, no way could some punk burn Lily in the middle of a storm with a Zippo.”

“What do you make of this, Raven?” Albatross asked him.

“Well,” the leader of the Murder responded, casting his eyes over the unconscious Lily, “She either trusts us, or was in such a bad position that we were the best option. But I agree with Magpie; those burns were made by a super. The shape’s around the size of a hand, and they’re where a mugger would grab someone, on the arm and around the torso.”

Harpy looked up from applying a new bandage to a large, rough cut on Lily’s forearm, not even pausing while he spoke. “I think one of the gangs is responsible for this one, boss. Claw marks, burns, bruises, and mud? We’re nowhere near a park, so that’s at least three different powers, possibly more.”

Raven nodded. “How long ago do you think this happened, Harpy?”

“Not more than an hour ago, I’d say. If she ran straight here and collapsed, and given her condition, I’d bet on no more than thirty minutes ago.”

Raven nodded again. “Alright then. It’s what, nine-thirty? Get some rest. We’re up and moving as soon as Lily tells us more.”

-

Lily came too around twelve hours later, laid out on a slightly threadbare couch and under a well-worn blanket. She felt her arms, wincing as she grasped new gauze bandages over where the masked attackers had clawed and burned and stabbed at her.

A familiar deep voice and a strong hand on her shoulder interrupted her. “Don’t, it’ll just break the scabs.”

Lily jerked around, instinctively trying to pull out seeds from pockets that didn’t exist, nearly falling over in the process. Harpy reached out to steady her.

“Careful. I don’t want to have to dress them again, Lily of the Valley.”

She righted herself with some difficulty before staring in disbelief at the villain who had apparently treated her wounds. “W-What? You… dressed my wounds?”

Harpy nodded. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? Never mind, Raven would like to hear about what happened to you last night.”

Lily only became more confused. “Why would he want to know? A-And why would I tell him, anyway?”

Another deep voice answered her from somewhere else in the room. “So that we may uphold the golden rule in your place, Lily London.”

The heroine spun around again, managing to keep her balance as she took in the figure of the Midnight Raven, flanked by Albatross and Swallowtail, each of them familiar adversaries. The Raven was tall, but shorter than Albatross, and even without his mask on, his face still seemed shrouded in shadow.

“Why would you ever do anything for me, Shadowpinner?” She hissed, trying to wriggle out of Harpy’s firm grip on her shoulder.

Swallowtail cocked her head at the heroine. “She isn’t acting like the Lily who I remember.”

Raven nodded. “Indeed. Magpie?”

A shorter man stuck his head from around the doorframe the other villains had exited from, long bangs covering his eyes and slightly glowing circles slowly spinning around his head. “Yeah?”

“What exact injuries did you see on Lily last night?”

“Uhmmmm…” Magpie trailed off as he worked to recall the memory, “three claw-like cuts, two burns, more than ten distinct bruises, several mud smears, and what looked like a needle injection site.”

“A-An injection site?” Lily stammered, stopping her struggle, “Like a vaccine?”

“Or a drug,” Albatross realized.

Raven’s nod confirmed his suspicions. “Magpie, are there any drugs that require injection and can cause confusion in the victim out there on the streets?”

His head ducked back behind the doorframe for a few seconds filled with the clacking of keys before it came back out.

“Indeed there is, boss. A little liquid called Syrup, aka Honey, aka Simple Stuff, aka a lot of other names that reference its viscosity and supposed sweetness. Created by one of the family gangs, the Golden Hornets, whose power has something to do with intensifying the strength of already available drugs. It makes people drowsy, then confused and overly paranoid when injected, but taken orally, it’s basically a painkiller.”

“That would explain Miss Of the Valley’s behavior,” Harpy said, “But not why she got beat up. Who has access to this Syrup?”

More key clacking preceded the response. “A decent number of people. It seems the Golden Hornets are just the producers, and they sell it to other gangs, most notably the Dog Whistles, the Sawsharks, and the Quicksilvers, who then sell them on the street. But… there has been some, er, disagreements over the right to distribute Syrup. Mainly between the Dog Whistles and the Lion Queens.”

“Never heard of the Queens before,” Swallow commented, “are they upstarts?”

“Yes. All the police reports have them as being no larger than 20 members, not a proper gang yet, and wanting to carve a place for themselves.”

“You got any photos?” Raven asked.

Keys clacked again, longer this time, before Magpie’s head returned. “Some. Not very quality, just security footage and some lucky newsie’s action shots.”

He turned to Lily, still frozen in Harpy’s grip. “Could you describe what your attackers looked like? What they were wearing and such?”

“If you stop manhandling me, Cloudjumper.”

Harpy let her go.

Rubbing her shoulder and suspiciously eyeing each of the villains in sight, Lily sighed as she sat up. “There were seven I could see, but only four attacked me. Every one wore a standard kerchief mask, yellowish-brown and shiny. They wore some kinda uniform, but all I can remember is that they had coattails and high boots, and that they were colored dark brown. The four who attacked me were all as bald as Golden Lighting and African-American, but the three who didn’t had lots of hair, dark in color.”

Her hands hovered over her bandages as she continued.

“The one with claws was tall with a furry tail, and their eyes were hazel. The one with earth powers was shorter and had armor of some kind on their arms, with brown eyes. The one who punched me was medium height with a short mantle of sorts, and had really dark eyes. And the one who injected me had blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if they had other powers before I got away. And at least one of the long haired ones had wings, not feathered.”

Magpie had ducked back behind the doorframe in the middle of Lily’s account, his keyboard noises ceaseless for thirty seconds after she finished. Harpy gently patted her shoulder as they waited for the techie.

“Jackpot!” Magpie’s head re-emerged, and his crosshairs were spinning like tops. “I got an ID on everyone you described! Long-Wings is probably Melody Mitchel, a commander among the Lion Queens. And the four toughs are definitely some of her known lackeys; Terryl Tyson is Tail-Claws, Renell Rose is the Earth-Armor, Stefan Smith is Ten-Punches, and Violet Victorson is Blue-Injector. All have been arrested, but not charged, as members of the Queen Lions gang, save Melody. This is the clearest picture I could find.”

He shoved a bulky laptop out on a swivel chair, its screen showing a gory blown-up newspaper photo of ten figures dressed in the coattailed uniforms fighting with ten other figures dressed in the silver and grey trench coats of the Dog Whistles.

One had a full head of frizzy hair and bat-like wings, leaping from a rooftop with shoeless feet baring clawed paws. One had a furry tail and was but a streak as they shoved a hand into the chest of a Dog Whistle, blood flying. One was far shorter than their opponent, guarding their head from a heavy tail’s descent with their oversized rock gauntlets. One had a short mantle over their uniform and was fist fighting a Dog Whistle with curly horns. And one was just a shadow in an alleyway, holding something and standing over a slumped form.

Lily backed away from the photo as the Murder crowded close.

“T-Thats them, for sure. They’re the ones who… got me.” The last two words came after a pause; the heroine was still denying that she had been bested.

Raven nodded. “I assume that you already know where these Lions hunt, Magpie?”

“Yup.”

“Well then.” The villain turned to Lily, who was eyeing him with suspicion again. “What would you do, Lily London, if you were able, and if the Wild and Free were by your side?”

There was no hesitation in her answer. “Get them. Get even with my attackers, and knock the whole of the Lion Queens down a few pegs.”

“Then that is what we shall do.”

[cheri-translates]

Gavin’s Weibo Posts (2022)

Compilation of 2021 Posts: here

1 January:

We’re at the starting coordinates of this year, and will reach any destination, no matter where it is.

11 January:

Discovered a jigsaw puzzle that was scattered by the wind

16 January

There’s a lot of festive atmosphere in the streets. It’s time to make a new bird whistle for Pearly.

31 January

Holding hands and looking at the clouds and shadows in the morning. 

7 February 

Will be remembered for a very long time

14 February

Following all of the Commander’s arrangements.

26 February

When I can’t muster any energy, doing something I like can help with focusing.

7 March

A sole off-road vehicle in a deserted area

12 March

There seems to be an exceptionally large number of kites caught on trees recently.

23 March

Where there is light, the path forward can be found.

1 April

The sudden downpour was a little unexpected, but Sparky was very steady in the rain. Along the way, we successfully rescued a kitten which was stuck due to the rain.

6 April

This time, simply admiring them will be enough.

19 April

Checking out locations for a spring outing.

27 April

Judging by Tiny Blackie’s working habits, it should be left-handed

[Note] Tiny Blackie is Gavin’s Roomba! I don’t think it has an official English name yet

1 May:

Obtained many check marks

10 May:

I’ve grasped the uses of the fryer and oven, and am looking forward to improving even further.

19 May:

Found the Milky Way on the ground

25 May:

May will be over soon

[Note] The song he’s recommending is “What A Song”  by MAYDAY. Check out the English lyrics here!

1 June:

I’ve always only liked one scent

13 June:

Power should be associated with righteousness and courage

18 June:

The gameplay of arcade games has become more complicated, but it still feels the same

24 June:

Today’s mission at work is to remove water droplets.

Comment: After several days of heat, it finally rained. 

4 July:

Borrowed a ball from a young student

14 July:

The weather is so warm that I started to sweat even before my morning run.

20 July:

Does adding an egg and barbecued pork to instant noodles make it a nutritious food item?

29 July:

The happiness buff continues to increase

4 August:

Feeling the most carefree ocean breeze.

7 August:

Seeing magpies is a good sign.

16 August:

While carrying out its mission, Sparky Jr. Jr. Jr. bumped into Sparky Jr. Jr. which was stationed on the balcony, and criticised it.

[Note] Sparky Jr. Jr. Jr. is Gavin’s roomba and Sparky Jr. Jr. is his drone! Here’s a list of the things Gavin has named so far :>

29 August:

There are countless mysteries in the depths of the universe.

[Note] This is likely a reference to a sci-fi novel called Solaris by Stanisław Lem

2 September:

When I passed by high school, I didn’t expect to see the small stall from back then. The fishballs still have their familiar taste.

8 September:

Will eating a majestic tiger paw pastry make me majestic too?

20 September: 

Autumn rain shares some coolness with the wind.

4 October:

Very cute

15 October:

It turns out that changing profile pictures is a way to convey emotions.

23 October:

...my hands weren’t shaky

31 October:

Note: The post is morse code for “Happy Halloween”

7 November:

Let’s go home together then

20 December:

Overlapping with memories

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[onlyfreds]

I Choose You | F.W.

Title: I Choose You

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: At the end of the day, Fred is always the one Y/N chooses.

A/N: Inspired by the song “I Choose” from the movie: “Willoughby”

Stuck in my ways Like old-fashioned days But all the roads led me to you

Magic. I always thought that magic just consisted of clever tricks and didn’t really exist. I always thought that magic were just illusions used to entertain little kids. That was what I always thought, until I got my Hogwarts letter. Until I learned that magic was real. Until I hopped onto the Hogwarts express, ready to begin my journey as a witch.

All roads lead to somewhere. And this one led me to a certain 6’3 ginger who had a twin named George. This road had led me to my best friend, Fred Weasley, this road had led me to the boy I fell for, hard.

“You’re gorgeous.” That was Fred’s first words to me.

--

“Gryffindor!” The sorting hat yelled as it was placed on my head. I happily skipped towards the scarlet and gold table, where my new friends were waiting for me. “Welcome to the best house in Hogwarts.” The twins said in unison as I took a seat next to them.

Everyday was an adventure, pulling pranks and causing mischief and trouble here and there. And every day, I continued to fall in love with the older twin.

The house that you live in don't make it a home But feeling lonely don't mean you're alone People in life, they will come and they'll leave But if I had a choice I know where I would be

Ever since I started attending Hogwarts, I would spend every holiday at the Burrow. It was like a second home to me. Molly had instantly treated me like her daughter the moment I stepped foot inside the house. It even got to the point that Fred would whine that he wanted his “partner in crime” back.

Every holiday at the Burrow was special. I never felt lonely, mostly because my own family didn’t like the idea of me being a witch. But the most special holiday I had was during our third year.

I was watching the stars as snow fell slowly onto the ground.

“Enjoying the view darling?” The butterflies appeared in my stomach as I turned and saw Fred standing by the doorway.

“What’s there not to enjoy about the view?” I asked as I patted the space next to me, inviting him to sit down.

“It’s just, the whole family’s inside and your out here.” He said as he placed his arms around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

“But I can bet that there’s something better than that view.” He said with a sheepish grin.

I chuckled, “And what is that?”

“Look up.” He simply stated.

I diverted my gaze up to the night sky, fireworks painting the sky. Soon, it spelled out the words: I love you Y/N; Will you be my girlfriend?

I turned to Fred, who had a hopeful look in his eyes, “Be my girlfriend?” He asked.

Without hesitation, I cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. In the background, I could hear the whole Weasley household cheering.

“How’s that for an answer?” I asked as we pulled apart.

He smirked, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t get your answer. Can we try it again?”

I giggled as he pulled me in for another kiss.

Now I found the strength To make a change And look at the magic I found No matter the name

Umbridge had come and was making everyday miserable with her foolish educational decrees that she claims is for the better future of Hogwarts. A load of dragon dung if you ask me.

Harry then formed the D.A., which for me is the highlight of the school year. We were fighting for something. We were fighting for our school; we were learning to fight and defend ourselves. We were learning to fight against Voldemort.

“Expecto Patronum!” The twins said in unison, identical magpie patronuses flying out of their wands.

I thought of the day Fred asked me to be his girlfriend, the day we attended the Yule ball together, every date, every memory. I let the happiness fill me up.

“Expecto Patronum!” I casted, watching in awe as a cat flew out of my wand, running around, chasing the magpies the twins produced.

“What did you think about?” Fred asked, wrapping his arms around me.

I smiled, “You.”

The room then started to shake, Fred his arm around me protectively, the both instinctively raising our wands. The room shook again, a small hole appearing in the wall.

“Bombarda Maxima” A familiar voice said.

“It’s Umbridge.” I said, all of us started to run as the wall exploded.

The twins and I ran to one of the secret passageways that led to the common room. We were one of the first ones back, collapsing on the couch from exhaustion.

Ron came in dragging Hermione along with him. The rest of the Gryffindors started to file in. Except for one, Harry.

I finally found where I feel I belong And I know you'll be there with wide open arms

Through the lows and the highs, I will stay by your side There's no need for goodbyes, now I'm seeing the light

When the sky turns to grey and there's nothing to say At the end of the day, I choose you

“George and I are leaving tomorrow.” Fred said as he paced the dorm.

“The big escape.” I said with a small smile.

Fred looked at me, I could see the tears forming in his eyes, “I’m breaking up with you.”

I felt like someone had just stabbed a dagger into my chest, “What?”

He tried to hold back the tears but he couldn’t, “I’m breaking up with you.” He repeated as his voice cracked.

I could feel the tears making its way from my eyes, “Why?”

He sat down on the floor, “Because I am dropping out of school to follow another one of my stupid ideas. I’m dropping out of school to start a business that I have no assurance that will succeed. And if everything goes downhill, I’ll disappoint everyone, Harry, Mum, George and most especially you. Out of all the people in the world, you are the one I’d hate to disappoint the most. Then when that happens, you’ll leave me. Then I’ll be left with nothing. So, it’s better to end things now instead of ending when the pain hurts more.” He sobbed.

I pulled him into a hug, trying to wipe his tears as mine continued to fall.

“That won’t happen Fred.” I said, gently rubbing his back, “No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side, through the lows and the highs. If the ship sinks, then I’m going down with you. Where you go, I go. Because at the end of the day Freddie, I choose you.”

He hugged me tightly, as if scared that I would evaporate any minute. “Thank you.” He muttered.

I cupped his face in my hands, “Besides, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” He asked.

I chuckled, “George and I were supposed to surprise you tomorrow. But I guess things don’t always go as planned.”

“Really? You’d rather come with us than finish your education.” He said with a small smile.

I nodded, “Yeah. It’s not like I’m learning anything with the pink toad around. Like I said Freddie, I’ll always choose you. And if I belong anywhere, it’s with you.”

Through the lows and the highs I will stay by your side There's no need for goodbyes, now I'm seeing the light When the sky turns to grey and there's nothing to say At the end of the day, I choose you

“You okay Freddie?” George asked as the three of us watched the teachers place protective enchantments on the school.

“Yeah, how about you?” Fred asked, turning to his brother.

“I’m fine.” George answered.

Fred turned to me, “How about you princess?”

“Good.” I replied.

Fred turned me to face him, “If ever I don’t make it. You should move on, okay? Fall in love again. Have a family. I’ll always be waiting for you.”

I shook my head, kissing him, “I choose you. So, it’s either we survive this together or we don’t at all.”

“But darling- “He tried to reason before I interrupted him.

“There’s no need for goodbyes, now I’m seeing the light.” I squeezed his hand, “It doesn’t matter what happens. As long as we’re together.”

--

“You’re joking Perce! You’re actually joking.” But the rest of Fred’s words fell into the background as my instincts told me that something bad would happen.

I rushed to Fred, pushing him out of the way as the wall exploded. It’s like everything had gone in slow motion.

“I love you.” I whispered into his ear, if I was going to die. Then I would want that to be my last words. If he was going to die, no, I can’t think that.

I landed on top of him, my arms wrapped around his torso, “Freddie?” I immediately said.

“Yes princess?” He answered, with his signature smirk.

I hugged him as I breathed a sigh of relief and began sobbing, “You’re alive.” I said.

He hugged me tighter, running his hand through, “Thank you for saving me.” He whispered.

I looked up and crashed our lips together, “I told you either we survive together, or we don’t at all.”

At the end of the day, I choose you

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Fred Weasley as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asked.

I smiled, “I do.”

“And with the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Fred smiled, as he pulled me closer to him.

During the reception, I couldn’t stop glancing down at the rings on our hands, it had the words I choose you engraved.

“I love you, Mrs. Weasley.” He whispered as the festivities continued.

I smiled at him, “I love you too, Mr. Weasley.”

I choose you

[remmysbounty]

so we’re married now… // din djarin x gn!reader

so this is a little something I wrote last night... I know I usually write female reader stuff but I realized this one has no language pointing towards a specific gender so I figured I’d have it as gender neutral... if there’s anything that references to a specific gender on here though please let me know 🥺

also, i would like to note that i did not come up with this idea myself, i originally saw this idea on one of the FMK Fandom Trope asks that the wonderful and amazing @hdlynn​ (you can find all her amazing writing at @hdlynnslibrary​ ) and i remembered it today and decided to write this little fic to go with it. Here’s her specific ask where the idea was brought up (and yes it was in response to me) so in a way I guess you can say that this fic is in honor to her and her amazing mind and spectacular writing

ENJOY ☺️

You and Din had been traveling with Grogu for quite some time when the two of you finally met the Jedi who would help Din complete his quest, yet when the Child- your child- left Din’s arms you weren’t entirely sure what to make of the situation.

Somehow, the two of you made it back onto a ship and headed to Navarro with Cara until you and Din decided to continue traveling, only this time there was no quest to fulfill, no bounty to find, merely two people who clearly love one another enjoying the time they have together.

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings for one another since before finding Grogu the first time, but it took the whole adventure that he had taken you on for the two of you to even come to terms with how you felt- and soon the two of you were no longer friends, but something more.

“Din?” You whispered softly at the man laying next to you under the cover of darkness, “where are we going next?”

You felt his hand run up and down your arm, “Cara said she found another covert, and technically as Manda’lor, I should go visit them.”

“We don’t have to though,” you ran your fingers through his curly hair tenderly, enjoying the softness of his tresses.

Din murmured something in agreement as he snuggled closer into you, “You’re right,” there was a pause, “but they are similar to my own covert, and I’m hoping they could help me find the others.”

His covert had always been a topic of contention with Din, because even though there were times of struggle between him and them, they were his only family for most of his life. You whispered a soft okay and let the two of you fall to the darkness, relishing your time in his arms before having to start your new adventure the next day.

––

It had taken a couple of days but you and Din had finally made it to this new covert. As the two of you walked off the ship that Cara had given you, it was clear from the way Din’s body loosened up that he felt very much at home… of course you weren’t sure if it was the other Mandalorians or the fact that he’d taken one of your hands from you and held it in a death grip the second the two of you stepped out.

Your eyes widened at the cacophony of colorful beskar surrounding you, merely brightened from the sun hitting them at every angle. You could hear the mother tongue being spoken with such fluidity that you only hoped one day you could make it to that level. Words that you recognized from Din’s own mouth, as well as the book that you’d been learning from reached your ears and you were ecstatic at the fact that you recognized them at all.

You’d hadn’t told Din yet about your progress in learning Mando’a, but hopefully with this new covert, you’d finally be able to show him what you learned.

The alor of this covert approached the two of you and you couldn’t help but notice at the way they avoided having you involved in the conversation- not that you minded. As you allowed yourself to admire everything around you, you couldn’t help but catch a few of the words exchanged between the alor and Din- specifically ner riduur. You knew what those two words meant, especially the second one, but you figured that Din wouldn’t have used such powerful words unless it was important.

Soon the two of you were lead to a room on the outskirts of the covert and you couldn’t help but smile at the alor as you entered. You were so busy looking at your new home for the next couple of weeks that you didn’t realize that Din was still standing at the door, his hand clenching and unclenching constantly. It was only when you finished going around in a circle that you realized what he was doing.

“Din? Why are you so nervous?” You whispered as you watched him from the other side of the room.

You didn’t need his helmet off to know what Din was feeling as the nervousness and despair came off of him like waves crashing alongside the coast.

Din mumbled something that not even the vocoder caught it only to repeat his words again, “They were going to put us in separate rooms, so I told them that- well that we got married recently.”

Your face flushed at the meaning behind Din’s words, but you weren’t surprised as you’d heard them clear as day, “I know.”

You wouldn’t have been sure that Din had heard those two words if it wasn’t for the way his helmet shot up, “You did?”

Your eyes founded safety in the floor in front of you as you nodded your head, “I’d been learning Mando’a after I found a book on the language in a marketplace on day… I- I wanted to surprise you.”

Soon the sight of the floor was replaced by a pair of black boots, and a leather glove softly cupped your cheek before bringing your face up to face a certain helmet, “That is a very nice surprise cyare, thank you.”

Your lips mouthed the words you’re welcome but you weren’t even sure if they fully came out, your eyes too busy searching the black visor in front of you for anything. Din’s helmet soon found its way to rest against yours, and that small act was enough to calm your nerves once again.

It was only under the cover of darkness where you brought up Din’s words with a simple, “so we’re married now…”

You felt Din tense before realizing that you weren’t making fun at him, instead relishing in the future that it brought you- even if for a couple of weeks, “Yes, we are.”

Your lips softly caressed Din’s body before finding their place in the crook of his neck, “Do you think one day we could be married for real?”

“How about tomorrow morning?” Din’s hands worshipped your body as he said those four words. “The sun rises somewhat late here, and we’ll get a nice view from the window.”

You smiled at the thought of being able to call Din your riduur tomorrow and actually mean it, “Tomorrow.”

––

Translations:

alor: leader, captain

ner riduur: my spouse/partner/husband/wife

cyare: beloved

––

Tin Man:  @captn-andor  @thewayofthemandalorian  @magpie-to-the-morning  @magicrowiswritingstuff  @booksmusicteaandanimals  @dinthisisthe-wayson  @littlemisspascal  @din-damn-djarin  @elysiansith @dincrypt  @ohwaitimthewriter @poesflygirl @lathyrusodorxtus @dindjarindiaries @dindjarinscape

[yr-bed]

everything i don’t know about love

i. We’re in the car. Ray Charles’s version of “I Can’t Stop Loving You” comes on. I nearly burst into tears. Thankfully for everyone present I don’t. I instead do the very healthy bottle-stop of staring into the middle distance, allowing the feelings to splash up against my flat, set expression without spilling out.

ii. It’s tres embarrassing on a number of levels. Both the sentiment and the realisation it inspires within me, for the first time in over a decade of listening to this song, feel somewhat banal: Yes, when you’ve broken up, or someone is otherwise no longer in your life, that does not mean that your love for them has similarly vacated the premises. A Jens Lekman lyric: “You don’t get over a broken heart / You just learn to carry it gracefully.” 

iii. The thing is, love is a very uncomplicated feeling. It works best when stated plainly and truthfully, despite centuries of dressing something to clear up in added sentiment, metaphor, simile, allegory, and legalese. My distress at feeling the universality of heartbreak mirrors the opposite, as in the Los Campesinos! lyric: “When you kiss my chest in the morning / The simple things that I manage to say / And when the most heartfelt declarations / Sound like century-old clichés.”

iv. It’s embarrassing also because the Charles version, from an album of country and western covers, is so chintzy and of its time. The string arrangements and, more so than anything, the choir of backing vocals place is so squarely in the early sixties: the way they overenunciate the eponymous phrase, the echo on the recording, the harmonies. That sound out of time is part of the reason I love it so much.

v. I first heard it in Metropolis, the anime film which loosely adapts Osamu Tezuka’s manga, which loosely adapted Fritz Lang’s film. I remember very little else about the film, to be honest, but for this one scene at the end; the use of the song stuck out as alien and indelible. An American standard emerging from the soundtrack of a film otherwise wholly in Japanese, a recording so clearly from half a century ago playing atop cutting-edge animation of a robot girl falling from the top of an impossibly high skyscraper in a futuristic city. A collision of past and present, of different cultures, that has stuck with me for fifteen some years when no other details have.

vi. I am writing this while alone, in a shack, on the shingle beach of Dungeness. I resisting the urge to compare the flatness of the landscape to my current emotional range, or of the alien plantlife that grows in this desert-like environment to the resilience of love in the face of hopelessness, or any silly bollocks like that. I respect my own and your intelligence too much for that.

vii. There is a comparison to be made with Metropolis and Ray Charles and what lingers from a relationship, the presences that suggest a larger absence. You’re lucky if a profound experience of art means you remember a single image, or phrase, or scene, or sound from something. Equally fortunate is when someone leaves a reminder of themselves behind you carry with you for the rest of your life, be that an author they recommended, a preference for Cherry Coke over normal, or the superstition of greeting single magpies as “captain” to dispel bad luck.

viii. Talking to a friend in the pub, we got onto the topic of how Christopher Nolan’s 2014 film Interstellar is a load of old hooey. Not because it’s overlong and overly literal in its conception and depiction of dimensions beyond human comprehension (although that is true), but also in how it talks about love. If you’ve not had the misfortune of rewatching the film, or missed it entirely on release, it’s about a team sent out into the far reaches of space to find a planet potentially habitable for humanity, since Earth is kaputt. Anne Hathaway’s scientist character entirely undermines her academic credentials by opining that love is the most powerful force in the universe:

“Love isn't something that we invented. It's... observable, powerful. It has to mean something. Maybe it means something more - something we can't yet understand. Maybe it's some evidence, some artefact of a higher dimension that we can't consciously perceive…Love is the one thing we're capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.”

Which is, if you’ll pardon my French (the language of love), unutterable horseshit. Except she did utter it! Putting aside the fact that the film in toto exists primarily so Nolan could counter the widely-held opinion that, like his oedipal daddy Kubrick, his films were as emotionally empty as a train ticket inspector, this monologue in particular is just baffling to me. It’s absolute Disney movie hogwash. It’s the sort of logic that has people believing there is a singular “one” out them waiting for them, that fate shall bring them into romance. Nothing could be further from the truth.

ix. Which is not to say I don’t believe in love. Far from it! Ladies. At the moment I am single, and being single while living in London and working from home and during an ongoing international health crisis means that I have had to download the apps. It’s a largely dispiriting experience, even allowing for the many lovely people I have chatted to. I explained to another friend that, the times I have fallen for someone, it has felt miraculous. What are the odds you’d just happen to meet someone so compatible with you, randomly, and that it works out (even if only for a time)? There is something a bit magic about that, I’ll grant you. While scrolling through a cattle call of potential romantic partners is a lot like hard work; almost like, in the usual formulation, you just have the answer pop into your head. But now you’re expected to show your working.

x. The reason why the Interstellar monologue is so galling is because it conceives of love as an external force that we’re just waiting to strike us, like we still believe in cupid or something. It’s not, though, is it? Love is a thing that happens between two people, an ongoing conversation, a collaboration and a negotiation and a game of emotional chicken. You show you mine if you show me yours. It builds and grows over time. It doesn’t just happen.

xi. But then, love doesn’t just stop. That doesn’t mean it’s some multidimensional entity squatting invisibly atop us all, like an Elder God just biding its time. It means that the conversation has ended, or become strained, or things aren’t spoken aloud. It means that you make a choice not to continue talking; or you don’t make that choice and, as the example of having an argument and only conceiving of the choicest comebacks or cutting bon mots hours later alone in bed, the time has passed for you to be able to say what you want credibly.

xii. I just went on a walk over the shingle, in the direction of the enormous acoustic mirror I could spy in the distance. These are huge concrete monuments, mostly built before the emergence of radar in the Second World War, designed to warn of enemy aircraft by “reflecting” the sound of their engine across great distances. You mostly find them along the coast. This is one of three such “listening ears” on the Dungeness peninsula. This is also not a metaphor for anything.

xiii. I saw some screenshots on here of an interview with the Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami. He explains that, “When we don’t understand someone, we fall in love with them. When we realise that individual’s truth, we say they weren’t who we thought. So love is nothing but an illusion.”

xiv. I mean, sure.

xv. In actuality I think I fall squarely between the two extremes, Kiarostami on one end and Nolan the other (although closer to the former, actually); that it is obviously impossible to ever truly know another, but falling for someone is you falling for you best guess at who they are, or who you want them to be, or some combination of the observed and the aspirant. The successful relationship is the one which, other time, manages to bridge the gap between the real and the imagined person, through work and acceptance and understanding of the differences between the two. When you fall out of love is when the gulf between the real and the imagined becomes greater over time, because you were wrong in your assumption, or wanted them to be different despite the evidence in front of you, or because they did it, or because you were dead on but they themselves have moved further from where they started.

[handy-dandy-monster-candy]

Wade, part Four

Rating: NSFW Length: 2146 Pairing: Male Fishman/Gillman x GN Reader

The finale for the story written for @momolady​

xxx

The next few weeks are pure pandemonium as nonhuman beings come out in full force in support of the gillfolk republics. Ancient entities crawl out of the forests and seas, werewolves and vampires and other creatures make their presence known, with the full support and protection of a healthy and growing population of human former hunters who have been operating their support networks for generations.

The transition is rocky at best, with many human politicians calling for their eradication while others make it clear that attempting to do so would be a terrible mistake—not just for humanity, but for the world at large. Many of these beings are magical in nature, and while humanity is not threatened in so many words, it is weightily implied that the wilful culling of the nonhuman population would have a great many varied and equally devastating consequences.

You don’t see Wade for the majority of your vacation as he recovers beneath the waves. Instead, you’re interviewed (and interrogated) by just about every news outlet and television network, along with many other humans who step forward to give their positive testimonials about their experiences with other nonhumans. It doesn’t go as smoothly as you hope. You wake to eggs on your house and your parents’ car windows broken, and more than once you’re called the first of many inventive slurs when you’re recognised in public. You get many nasty phone calls and you get harassed on the street, until your parents express a desire to move away from the coast for your protection.

You’ve just hung up on the third such caller of the day when your cell phone rings again, and you can’t help but heave a sigh before you swipe the green ‘accept’ button on your screen. “I don’t fuck fish,” is the first thing that springs out of your mouth, followed closely by, “they’re gillfolk.”

“Duly noted,” says a familiar voice from the other end of the line, and you fling your mercifully plastic cup clean off the dining table you’re sitting at with the way you spasm in place.

“Wade!”

“Hey, you,” Wade says around a laugh, but it doesn’t linger in his voice for long. “Where are you? We need to talk.”

Shit. “I’m at home,” you say. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“The usual place?”

“The usual place.” You can hardly get the words out before the line goes dead. You take your pepper spray and pocket knife just in case things get hairy before you can make it to the coast, but thankfully your hurried pedaling is uninterrupted and you make it to the beach in record time. You’re still catching your breath by the time you get to the cove, and you almost twist your ankle in your haste to get down to the sand where Wade is waiting, out of sight.

“That was quick,” he mutters as you approach, and you huff as you rest your bike against the rocks. You can’t help but look him over, focusing on the spot where you had last seen a goddamn harpoon sticking out of his side. There’s nothing but puckered white flesh there now, though his scales have yet to regrow over the scar. Still, you can’t help but frown.

“Are you sure you should be up and about? You were run through just a few weeks ago.”

“I’m fine,” says Wade, watching you unblinkingly. “Why? Don’t want me around?”

Your frown turns into a scowl. “I didn’t say that.”

“You left because of me.”

“I left because of me,” you reply, putting such force into the word that you shake with it. “I left because I love you and I couldn’t bear to be a creep and ruin it between us. I left because—”

“You’re damn stupid,” Wade cuts in, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips so hard against yours that it almost hurts. You reel back from the shock and he drags you back in, kissing you over and again until you’re whimpering for mercy against his mouth. “Idiot,” he whispers when he breaks the kiss, cupping your face between his soft, warm hands. “Fucking moron.”

“Keep being romantic. It’s working,” you snort, sniffling when you realise that you’ve started to cry. “So you—?”

“Yes.”

“And I—”

“Left me,” Wade all but gasps, words leaving him as though excised from his throat. “Don’t ever do that again. You can’t do that to me. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” you promise, stroking along the frills between his head fins with your fingertips. “I’ll transfer schools. I’ll—“

“Marry me.”

You choke on your own spit. Wade frets and tuts and pats at your back, though he grins his amusement with his needle sharp teeth when you look up at him like a deer in the headlights. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly.”

“We’re not even dating.”

“I think we just skipped to the good part, what with the kissing and all.”

“You said we needed to talk!”

“We did. I recall the conclusion to that talk being that you were a jackass.”

“You called me an idiot, not a jackass.”

“Semantics. The point is, some things need not be spoken to be understood.”

“That’s not how any of this works.”

“It works however we make it work. I think that’s the point of a relationship: you have to work at it to make it any good.”

“I’m not discussing the philosophy of this with you, Wade.”

“Spoilsport. You said you loved me.”

“Don’t use that against—”

“I’m not. I love you, too.”

You come up short. “You do?”

“I do,” murmurs Wade, shy in a way that you have never seen before. “I have for a very long time.”

“Since when?” you ask, and you can’t help but smile when Wade wraps his arms around your waist as though he’s always done so.

“Since you first let me take you diving,” he says, spreading his fingers and letting them wander up and down your back.

“That long? I had braces then!”

“You weren’t any less beautiful.” His eyes crease with mischief, and you know you’re going to be prickled like a child poking a bear. “I kind of miss them, actually. They were shiny.”

“Are you a gillman or a magpie?” you snort, though you can feel your face growing hot.

Wade only grins. “Your turn,” he says. “When did you know you loved me?”

You huff, having to look away from his self-satisfied expression. “During one of your business trips in sophomore year. I was so gross, writing you sappy text messages and never sending them.”

“That’s years after I fell in love with you,” says Wade, and you can hear his pout in his voice. “Was I that obnoxious?”

“Yes.”

“And you still love me?”

“Yes. Gods help me, I do.”

Wade laughs and kisses you again, gently this time, pressing his lips to yours in several soft smooches and pecks. You can’t help but sigh and coo at his attentions, melting against him and sighing when his tongue slips past your lips. You don’t dare return the favour, with all his sharp, pointed teeth, but he kisses you so thoroughly that it doesn’t matter, until it suddenly does. “Have you done this before?” you ask, and know the answer immediately when Wade ducks his head with guilt.

“A few times.”

“Wade.”

“A few dozen,” he corrects, wincing when you jab a finger in his uninjured side. “But never further. I wanted my first mating to be with you. Though that doesn’t mean I haven’t used my hand for relief whenever I thought about y—”

“Wade!” you squawk, elbowing him in the ribs.

He coughs and laughs, rubbing his side and grinning down at you. When had he gotten so tall and broad? You’re lamenting your own lack of muscle when Wade scoops you up into his arms, ignoring your various noises of shock and embarrassment as he carries you to a more secluded part of the cove. You can feel your face flaming when you realise that he’s aiming for privacy, but when he leans in to kiss you after setting your back against rocks worn smooth by waves, you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close.

Wade makes quick work of the clothing you wear below the waist, and you briefly wonder where he’d gotten practice with that before your thoughts disappear in the wake of his fingers teasing you. He’s careful with his claws so that he doesn’t hurt you, but that just makes every twist of his wrist all the more maddening, until you’re squirming and writhing against the rocks with Wade standing between your legs.

“I knew you’d like that,” he whispers, almost a purr, and you have to fight the urge to swat him or hide.

“Shut up,” you beg, breathless and moaning as Wade teases you to dripping.

“No,” Wade cheekily replies, taking his hand from you to bring up between you both. You’re mortified to see strings of your fluids clinging to his fingers, and even further embarrassed to watch him slip his tongue out to lick them clean, bright pink eyes burning into yours.

“I’m gonna die,” you say, covering your burning face with your hands for some relief.

“You’re going to come close to it by the time I’m done with you,” Wade rumbles, kneeling in the sand and lifting you up so that both of your legs hook over his broad shoulders.

“Wade!” you meep, but he only chuckles, tongue snaking out of his mouth to tease your most sensitive places. You squeak when he finds your entrance and Wade splutters against you, earning himself a soft smack to the top of his head. “Don’t laugh during this!”

“I can’t help that you’re cute,” Wade protests, burying his face against the insides of your thighs and returning to his task with renewed enthusiasm. You whimper and mewl as he works you open, squirming on his tongue and shivering as his dangerous teeth brush tenderly against your skin. You almost choke when he draws away a sizzling eternity later, apparently satisfied with his work.

“Wade…”

“My pearl,” he murmurs, and you find yourself held aloft in his powerful grasp when he stands, thighs hooked over his muscular forearms. Between you is his prick, deep blue at the base and a vivid purple at the tip, with bumps and ribs that grind against you and make you shiver from head to curling toe. “I’ll make you weep for me around this cock.”

“Don’t say that,” you manage to whimper, feeling his slippery pre-cum slick up your entrance before he starts to push in. “Wade!”

“Say my name,” he rumbles back, voice straining at the edges. “Say my name forever, you precious, precious thing.”

“Stop talking,” you whine, embarrassed and aroused as warm butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Wade chuckles, burying his face against the side of your neck. “You picked the wrong man.”

You curse and writhe as he pushes inside of you with slow, steady thrusts, clinging to his shoulders and biceps whenever the sensations are too much. “I’m going to die,” you gasp, tears in your eyes. “It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough,” Wade growls, teeth grazing along your throat. “So many years I’ve hungered, so many years I’ve yearned.” He surges up into you at the word, and you’re mortified when you wail into the briny air. Wade rocks his hips up into you, hands splayed across your ass, thumbs spreading you open to take him deeper. You whimper and clutch him as tightly as you dare, feeling your breaths mingle as your nerves come alight like a pyrotechnic display.

He moves inside of you like you were made for each other, fitting inside you again and again as you cry out and shake apart. When you come, it’s with his name on your lips and his teeth around your neck, his fins rustling as he empties himself inside of you with a few final, reckless thrusts. “Don’t drop me,” you pant, blunt human nails digging into Wade’s scales. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“And you think I can?” Wade grunts, though he obligingly lowers you onto the sand with care as he kneels down. “Give me a minute and I’ll do it again.”

“You really do want to kill me,” you groan, resting your face against Wade’s shoulder with a sigh.

“No,” Wade rumbles in reply, gurgling softly with pleasure. “But I do really want to marry you. You can carry my eggs and we can have little bubblers nipping at our heels.”

“I can what?!”

“I was joking. Surrealist comedy. Have you ever heard of it?”

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” you sigh, feeling Wade smile against the top of your head. “Gods help me, I do.”

[ibijau]

You’re a marked man, brother, part 5 (end) / also on AO3

With everything over, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue move forward

After returning to the Heavenly Court, Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had to report to the Jade Emperor what they had discovered about Jin Guangyao. This, in turn, created a great deal of chaos to be dealt with, and a number of heavenly officials were demoted as a result of this reveal. No matter how clever Jin Guangyao had been, no matter how powerful the fate changing spell and the curse laid on Nie Huaisang, it would have been impossible for Jin Guangyao to remain in place for this long without anyone noticing. In the days that followed his death, a number of his former friends, his subordinates, and at least one higher ranking civil god were revealed to have at least suspected he didn’t belong in the Heavenly Court, and to have profited from his position to scheme and get away with corruption.

There was a trial. 

Aside from those former associates forced to confess their crimes, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen were also called to explain what they had discovered, and the circumstances of those discoveries. To recount these events in front of their peers, to explain how they had both been tricked into betraying someone they’d loved as dearly as Nie Huaisang, was a true torture.

When it was over, when the emperor had given his judgement and they were free at last, Nie Mingjue took Lan Xichen to his palace. Truly, Lan Xichen had barely stepped inside his own home the whole time. He couldn’t bear to be there and see marks of Jin Guangyao’s presence, constant reminders of how he had been so thoroughly fooled. It wasn’t that they hadn’t all three made memories in Nie Mingjue’s palace as well, but Lan Xichen felt the sting of betrayal a little less strongly there.

Still, it was the first time the two of them were alone since everything unfolded, and for the first time in their long acquaintance Lan Xichen felt uncomfortable as they sat together, Nie Mingjue pouring wine for both of them. Lan Xichen didn’t normally drink, but on that day he decided an exception might be needed.

“So,” Nie Mingjue said when he sat as well, glaring at his cup of wine. “You and Huaisang.”

Shivering slightly, Lan Xichen put down his own cup of alcohol. Perhaps drinking would be unwise after all. He'd known they couldn't avoid that conversation forever, so why not get it over now, when they'd already exposed so much of themselves? 

“Me and Huaisang,” he confirmed in a whisper, nodding slowly.

“How long…”

“It happened after you ascended,” Lan Xichen explained, only to wince as he realised this might not sound good. “There was something before as well, but we became lovers after you ascended. It would have happened even if you hadn’t left, I think. That just… precipitated things.”

Lan Xichen remembered Nie Huaisang so cheerful in public, so happy for his brother and involved in those early efforts to get him followers, who once broke into tears in his arms when they were alone because he just missed Nie Mingjue so much. Lan Xichen had offered him all the comfort he could give, and Nie Huaisang had seized his chance to change things between them… not that Lan Xichen had put up much resistance anyway. 

“I had offered to take him to the Middle court,” Nie Mingjue said in a low, threatening voice. “The instant I ascended, I came back for him, and he refused. Was it because…”

Lan Xichen quickly shook his head. "No!" he exclaimed, and instantly Nie Mingjue relaxed. “I wouldn't have asked him to stay for my sake. I offered as well,” he said, his chest constricting at the memory. He’d first seen his own brother of course, but his second trip back to the mortal world had been for his lover. “He also refused. He said he wanted to take care of your father, especially since things had started going bad.”

That moment haunted Lan Xichen, ever since their encounter with the Magpie King. It had been their last time together, and he could see himself, in his newly ascended glory, lying in bed with Nie Huaisang’s head on his shoulder, warm and comfortable and nearly happy, save for Nie Huaisang rejecting his offer. He hadn’t known then how bad things had become for his lover, hadn’t known about the rumours, about the true state of old master Nie’s mental health. He just knew that Nie Huaisang had laughed and said he wasn’t ready yet to give up on mortal life, that he needed to be a dutiful son, that he’d miss his mother too much, and his little pet birds as well.

“I should have insisted,” Lan Xichen sighed, staring at the cup of wine he dared not drink. “If I had insisted, perhaps I could have saved him and he wouldn’t have become…”

He trailed off, thinking of the Magpie King’s disgust over their accidental betrayal, of him demanding their deaths, rejecting the idea of reconciliation. To think his A-Sang, mischievous but kind heart, could have become such a person…

“I should have insisted as well,” Nie Mingjue said. “But that kid was stubborn as a mule, and I’ve always spoiled him.”

He served himself more wine, which he drank too quickly.

"He was begging when I killed him, you know," Nie Mingjue whispered, sounding haunted. "At the time I couldn't even hear what he was saying, couldn't recognise who he was, just a stranger who'd come into my house and killed my family. But now I realise, now I can remember what I didn't hear back then, and he was begging me for mercy.” He drank some more. “Thought I was angry at him for killing father, for not saving everyone. He thought I hated him, and then I murdered him.”

Lan Xichen shivered. He hadn’t been there that day, but he remembered the memory the Magpie King had shown them. He wished he hadn't been made to see that. Nie Huaisang, desperate and broken… that wasn't how Lan Xichen would have preferred to remember him. 

“I can’t touch Baxia anymore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. “I’m so out of balance, I think she’d turn on me if I so much as looked at her.”

Unsure what to answer, Lan Xichen said nothing. He thought that Baxia, having once beheaded Nie Huaisang without hesitation, would have no right to judge Nie Mingjue now… but that wasn’t how sabre worked. At that time, Nie Mingjue had been absolutely convinced to be in the right, and that was all that mattered to Baxia. Now he was full of doubt, and the sabre would have hated to be yielded with uncertainty.s

Lan Xichen sighed, and drank his cup of wine after all.

He had little dignity left to preserve anyway.

-

Once things had settled in the Heavenly Court, and while his palace was being cleansed from the more obvious traces of Jin Guangyao’s prolonged stay, Lan Xichen suggested that Nie Mingjue and him take a break to visit the mortal world. 

Or rather, to visit a certain undead part of it. Nie Mingjue initially showed some reluctance at the idea of going among ghosts and demons when he still couldn’t touch his sabre, but eventually agreed to go to the Burial Mounds to meet with Wei Wuxian.

They were well received there, even more so than Lan Xichen on his first visit. They were offered tea, and welcomed into the Demon Slaughtering Cave which appeared to have been hastily cleaned up for them. It wasn’t as comfortable a place as their palaces in the Heavenly Court, there were papers everywhere, broken trinkets and half abandoned experimentation hidden under whatever old robes had been around, but Lan Xichen found it less distasteful than he would have expected only some weeks earlier. There was a certain homeliness to this mess of a place, or perhaps it was just because Lan Wangji looked so happy there with his husband.

The tea was served on an uneven table, in mismatched cups, and the four of them sat together to share pretty little cakes that Lan Xichen had brought, his brother's favourites. 

“I’m not sure I’ll have the answers you seek,” Wei Wuxian warned them before they could even say anything. “We’re not… I’m not on bad terms with the Magpie King, but I don’t know if I’m on good ones either. And he’s just never been the sort to talk about himself. For most of our acquaintance I wasn’t even sure who he was. Doesn’t help he changed faces every so often.”

Lan Xichen nodded, throwing a glance at an ashen looking Nie Mingjue. He hadn't wanted to come here, and looked as if he thought it had been the wrong decision. 

“We understand this,” Lan Xichen told his brother-in-law. “It’s just that… you and Wangji are the only people who can tell us anything at all.”

“I’ll try my best,” Wei Wuxian promised. “And I can speculate a bit about some things, too. So… where do you want me to start?”

“How did you meet him?” Nie Mingjue asked.

Wei Wuxian grimaced and fell silent for a moment. Lan Wangji took his hand and squeezed it gently in encouragement, prompting his husband to smile weakly at him before returning his attention to the other two.

“You probably won’t like that,” he said in a more serious tone than Lan Xichen had expected from him. “But I first met him when he tried to convince me to betray king Jiang Wanyin. We were allied to the Jin, the king’s sister married to their prince, and the Magpie King thought I could help him ruin both kingdoms at once. I had no idea back then why he was so determined to throw the Jin dynasty into chaos. But anyway, I refused, insulted him copiously for ever thinking I’d turn on my shidi, and then I ran to try and warn the Jin that there was trouble brewing.”

He paused and grimaced again, leaning against Lan Wangji who wrapped one arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. 

“Didn’t go so well,” he muttered. “Didn’t go well at all. I died, a bunch of Jin died, the Jiang dynasty ended, all that. I stuck around though. Didn’t much like the Jin, but their little prince was my late shijie’s son, and I figured I should protect him in her memory. So of course, when I met the Magpie King again and he wanted to get rid of that kid, we had a bit of a fight… he sucks at combat, but the way,” Wei Wuxian claimed, looking at Nie Mingjue. “I wouldn’t have expected the connection to you.”

“He never cared for that,” Nie Mingjue confirmed, just a touch of his old exasperation piercing through. “So you fought him and won?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Fought him and lost, actually. I was just a small ghost, and he was a Devastation, even if he wasn’t too great at it. He tried again to make me turn against the Jin, but I refused again. I think I must have said something about family coming first, and that might have impressed him. From what I’ve heard since, he’s got a soft spot for that.”

Nie Mingjue paled at what he had to take as an attack, but Wei Wuxian quickly reassured him.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as mad at you as he looked that time,” he said. “He really does have a soft spot for those who protect their families, and he’ll be merciless to those who betray them.”

“Like we did,” Nie Mingjue said.

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue in annoyance and shoved a cake in his mouth. 

“If he were really mad, Sangcan wouldn’t have been like that,” he claimed, making himself more comfortable in Lan Wangji’s embrace. “And that’s the true heart of him, I think. The Magpie King is the persona he uses to be scary and impressive, but I’ve seen him as Sangcan far more often, and he’s not so bad like that.”

"I thought Sangcan was just a clone he'd created," Lan Xichen said. 

"And one of many no doubts, but his favourite," Wei Wuxian claimed. "It's the form I've most often met him as, over the years, and the one with the most personality. He only brings out the Magpie King if it's necessary, and he brings out Sangcan when he wants to be recognised by those he knows. Even gave him part of his name, eh?"

"I used to call him Sangcan when he was a child," Nie Mingjue confessed. "He hated it, so I'd stopped doing it by the time Jin Guangyao joined our household."

Lan Xichen's breath stuck in his throat. He remembered something about that. Nie Huaisang had told him, once, and he'd been so annoyed about that old nickname. Lan Xichen had tried to comfort him with poetry, Nie Huaisang had blushed and… and he'd wanted to kiss Nie Huaisang so badly even though that wouldn't happen for another few years.

"So Lianfang-Zun wouldn't have known to seal away that name," Wei Wuxian mused. “And so Sangcan was still able to use it. I guess right from the start, he must have been looking for ways to get around that curse and make someone guess who he was. Lan Zhan, didn’t he even approach you directly when you first met?”

Lan Wangji nodded, and glanced at his brother, looking rather sorry.

“He asked if I knew him. He was disappointed when I didn’t, and again when I introduced myself.”

Something icy spread through Lan Xichen’s heart. 

His brother and him looked similar, enough so to have been mistaken for twins on occasions. Nie Huaisang could easily have spotted Lan Wangji during one of his missions in the mortal world and been given false hope for a moment, only to realise that he’d made a mistake. Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji had never met as mortals, but Lan Xichen had spoken a lot about his brother to the boy he loved.

He wondered what it must have felt like for Nie Huaisang, seeing a man who looked so much like his lost lover fall in love with someone else. Lan Xichen’s marriage wasn’t much talked about among mortals where tolerance for these things came and went like waves on a beach, but among gods and ghosts it was a well known fact, one that Nie Huaisang couldn’t have ignored. To know this, to see something similar happen with Lan Wangji… 

He sipped on his tea to give himself a moment and get his emotion under control. 

“Does this all mean, then, that Sangcan is the real him?” Lan Xichen asked, more hopeful than he ought to have been.

But Sangcan had been… nice. A little awkward, a little clumsy, a little silly, but nice. Sangcan was a coward but he hadn’t hesitated to follow Lan Xichen into the Unclean Realm, and he had jumped in front of him when Jin Guangyao would have stabbed him. If Sangcan was the real Nie Huaisang...

“I think Sangcan is just one part of him,” Wei Wuxian corrected, “and the Magpie King is another part of him, and maybe there’s other personas I just haven’t had a chance to meet. If you put all of them together, that’s probably the real Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t help slumping down a little.

“The anger is real,” Lan Wangji said. “The kindness is real too. When Jin Guangyao would have stabbed you, Nie Huaisang protected you both times, in both his shapes.”

Lan Xichen nodded, unconvinced, but Nie Mingjue scoffed.

“Jin Guangyao attacked because Huaisang pushed him to it. I’m not sure he gets points for changing his mind about seeing us dead.”

“He showed you who Jin Guangyao was,” Lan Wangji countered with surprising vehemence. “Without this proof of character, you might have missed him.”

As unpleasant as it was, Lan Xichen couldn’t deny it. Until Jin Guangyao’s first attempt to stab him, he had wanted to believe that his late husband had truly just made an honest mistake which got out of hand. He might even have been foolish enough to want to give him another chance if he hadn't died, especially after Nie Huaisang made it clear he had no wish for reconciliation.

They had spent centuries together. Lan Xichen had thought they were in love. He’d told himself they were in love. He’d done his best to respect his husband’s boundaries, to never ask for more intimacy than Jin Guangyao was willing to give, to content himself with the companionship they shared even when he’d felt at times as if they were friends rather than husbands. Lan Xichen had done his best to be good, but he still understood why the other man would have jumped at the chance of getting rid of him, after being forced to pretend for so long.

“Nie Huaisang’s method was wrong,” Lan Wangji said. “The goal was commendable.”

“Wangji, it sounds like you actually like him,” Nie Mingjue remarked, sounding almost envious. Lan Wangji and him were on somewhat cordial terms, but they'd never managed to become particularly close, even though Nie Mingjue would have liked to. 

“He helped me before,” Lan Wangji soberly replied, looking at Wei Wuxian, refusing to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s a sentimental one, when he’s not playing up the Magie King,” Wei Wuxian agreed, nuzzling shamelessly against his husband. “He even came to our wedding, as Sangcan. He’s a sap, really.

“He was different that time,” Lan Wangji pointed out. “His manners were serious.He seemed more sad. He must not like weddings, but he came for us. He came as his entire self.”

This caused a new pang of pain to Lan Xichen. He’d been so shocked at first to learn that his brother had gone and married a ghost king, and then everything else had happened, the Magpie King, the trial in the Heavenly Court, but now that he could think about it, he realised he had missed his brother’s wedding. 

Not just missed it: he hadn’t been invited to it, Lan Wangji apparently believing that Lan Xichen would be uncomfortable with such an odd union. And he had been at first, but he’d come around quickly. He would have come around then too, if only Lan Wangji had told him.

Instead, in those past centuries, Lan Wangji had never once mentioned Wei Wuxian, or else only in such a roundabout way that Lan Xichen had never realised his brother had fallen for someone.

“It must have been a pleasant wedding,” Lan Xichen said, careful to keep his voice even.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. “Not really? I was under shock after actually surviving the trials of Tonglu Mountain, and Lan Zhan got all sappy over seeing me again, so we decided to make it a thing before anyone could say anything. It was just the two of us and the Wen siblings, but of course the Magpie King always knows everything and he crashed our wedding as Sangcan. He did bring some wine and good food though, so I guess it’s fine.”

“Nie Huaisang told me where to find Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, which made his husband gasp.

“You never said! That explains how you found me so quickly then. Lan Zhan, shame on you for keeping secrets from your lawful husband and consorting with my enemies! Or my friends? Honestly, I don’t really know what Sangcan and I are, ahah.”

After this Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen lingered a little longer in the Burial Mounds, but not too long either. There was something about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's joy that was painful to witness, when the two of them were only starting to process the loss they had suffered. They were both invited to visit again whenever they pleased. Lan Xichen intended to take that offer, and knew Nie Mingjue probably wouldn't.

Whatever his feelings toward ghost kings, Nie Mingjue still asked Wei Wuxian to tell Nie Huaisang that his brother missed him, should he meet him again. Wei Wuxian promised to do his best.

"But you know,” he said, “with Jin Guangyao dead, the fate exchange spell must have lifted, and his luck probably returned. So he'll meet you for sure if that's what he wants, and then you can tell him yourself." 

It was meant as a comfort, surely. 

All Lan Xichen heard was that they would never see Nie Huaisang again if he didn't want to be found. 

-

Weeks passed, turning into months, into years. Lan Xichen built a new normalcy into his life. He missed Jin Guangyao, at first, if only out of habit. For centuries, they had rarely been apart for more than a few days at a time after all. But as time passed, it became easier to be on his own. 

He kept himself busy answering as many prayers as he could, only avoiding San-Zun temples. Those were quickly falling in disrepair anyway. Even without formal announcement, mortals could always tell when a god had fallen, and they were usually quick to turn their prayers elsewhere.

When he wasn’t working, Lan Xichen often spent time with Nie Mingjue. It had been awkward at first, the spectres of Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang lingering between them, pulling them apart. But having lost so much, neither of them was willing to lose also their last friend, and they managed to find a new balance. Lan Xichen also made sure to frequently visit his brother in the Burial Mounds, and to give him some mission or other to justify his prolonged stay in the mortal world. Everyone knew why Lan Wangji was absent from the Heavenly Court, but Lan Xichen preferred to keep up appearances.

Then, when he could, Lan Xichen wandered alone in the mortal world.

It was something he already used to do before, sometimes dragging Jin Guangyao with him as he looked for something he couldn’t quite name. The only real difference now was that he no longer had to pretend he wasn’t looking for the boy he had loved in his youth.

Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue was doing the same, had always done the same. He knew also that recently they’d both caught glimpses of a silhouette here and there, of a face, that always disappeared too fast into crowds. On good days, Lan Xichen thought that Nie Huaisang was waiting for the right moment to approach them. On bad days, he suspected the Magpie King was just keeping an eye on them, waiting to strike perhaps, his revenge not over yet.

No matter which it was, Lan Xichen continued looking for him, knowing he would be glad to see him again, however changed Nie Huaisang might be.

-

There had been enough prayers coming from that city, and all of them urgent enough, that Lan Xichen had come in person to check the ghost terrorising that area. 

The ghost in question, which seemed to be of Wrath level, had been abducting newborns for years at that point, but recently started doing so at such a speed that the whole city lived in terror. Cultivators of all levels had tried to solve the problem, only to end up dead. A small local martial god had also attempted to check the matter, but he had barely escaped with his life and had come to ask Lan Xichen for his help. 

Lan Xichen, who had only stayed out of this because it would have seemed rude to take action on that other god's territory, agreed to lend a hand. 

The city in question wasn't very big, and it wasn't very rich either. Since the ghost's attacks had become more frequent, every new or expecting mother who could had left the city to spend time with relatives, and some older children had been sent away as well, in case the ghost decided to broaden its tastes. Walking the streets, Lan Xichen noticed an air of sadness and despair all around, which only further motivated him to solve the issue. 

Yet just as he was starting to investigate the matter, a rumour spread through the city. The ghost had already been eliminated, and the latest child it had stolen had been found alive. Nobody had borne witness to that heroic act, but the child and the remains of the ghost had been found before the city's Zewu-jun temple, and many prayers had been done to that god, people said, so it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. 

Lan Xichen, who knew very well that he hadn't done anything yet, was stunned to hear this. 

He finushed his investigation while the city exploded in celebration. A quick check confirmed that the slain ghost appeared to have been powerful enough to have terrorized the city, and it bore marks of having used the energies of very young children to sustain itself. The danger had passed, but Lan Xichen couldn't figure out how. 

A little suspicious of this situation, he decided to linger a while in that city. Taking on a mortal shape, he wandered among the celebrations, enjoying food here and there while staying on the lookout for whoever had brought peace back to these people. 

Because he was so attentive, he spotted a man sitting at a table in front of an inn with a bowl of soup to eat, and froze on the spot. Lan Xichen hesitated, just a moment. But the coincidence was really too great to ignore, so he walked to that table and sat on a free chair. 

"It was you, wasn't it?" He asked, startling the middle aged man across from him. "The Wrath, you took care of it?" 

Sangcan dropped his spoon and stared at Lan Xichen with wide, fearful eyes.

"Zewu-jun!" Sangcan explained, before pressing a hand to his mouth, eyes darting around. "So you came here for this? Ah, my lord, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. There was no intention to steal your kill, my lord! But, well… that Wrath owed the Magpie King a debt, and it was trying to get out of repaying it, right ? So of course…" 

He gestured pathetically toward the celebrations. Sangcan really just looked like a pitiful man, terrified in front of someone more powerful than him, just as he had back then. It made Lan Xichen doubt, but still he had to ask. 

"Are you just Sangcan today, or are you fully yourself?" 

Sangcan frowned at the question, then glanced around. Seeing that nobody was paying them any mind, he sat straighter and passed his hand in front of his face. His features changed, though his clothes stayed the same simple ones. It was the same face he'd worn as the Magpie King that time in the Unclean Realm, though his expression retained a softness that was more like Sangcan's. 

"I guess Wei Wuxian babbled too much, as usual," Nie Huaisang sighed, nearly pouting. "So, what does Zewu-jun want from the Magpie King? Apologies, perhaps?" he asked, his tone making it clear those were unlikely to be offered. 

Lan Xichen motioned a waiter for a pot of tea before turning his attention back to the other man. 

"I take it you haven't seen Wei Wuxian since that time?" 

"No. I'm waiting for the honeymoon to be over," Nie Huaisang said, definitely pouting this time. "Wangji and him are just unbearable, aren't they? It makes me regret getting involved, the world doesn't need such disgusting displays of affection." 

"They can be a bit much," Lan Xichen admitted with a chuckle. "But I understand they've waited a long time for this." 

"You can say that again," Nie Huaisang muttered, producing a fan to hide behind. "Come now. You aren't here to talk about your brother's love life. Whatever you have to say, say it already." 

The waiter returned, serving tea for both of them, giving Lan Xichen a chance to gather his thoughts. He hadn't really considered what to say when approaching Nie Huaisang. Having spotted him, he had just found it impossible to stay away. 

He took a sip of tea. It was nothing like the exquisite brews he was served in the Heavenly Court, but there was something refreshing and pleasant in how plain it was. Simple wasn't a bad quality, Lan Xichen figured. 

"I missed you," he said, quite simply. 

Nie Huaisang snickered, eyeing his own cup of tea with suspicion. 

"Did you now? After I made your husband try to kill you, you somehow missed me?"

His voice wasn't as gentle as in Lan Xichen memories. Right then, it carried a viciousness that the A-Sang of old would have never shown. It had disturbed Lan Xichen when he'd first met the Magpie King in the Unclean Realm, but it no longer did. It was only to be expected that they had both changed, after such a long time, and Nie Huaisang certainly had a right to some bitterness. 

"I missed you before," Lan Xichen explained, earning an unimpressed look from the other man. "I did, believe it or not. There were parts of you that Jin Guangyao couldn't erase. Parts he didn't know about, like the name Sangcan, or…" 

Lan Xichen trailed off, heat colouring his cheeks at the thought of what else Jin Guangyao hadn't known about. 

"I spent centuries looking for a lost friend by the name of A-Sang," he said with an embarrassed cough. "One I assumed would be a ghost. Mingjue-xiong too was missing you, although in his case…" 

"Da-ge never misses me," Nie Huaisang scoffed, closing his fan with a sharp gesture. "Not then, not now. I killed his father back then, and now I've defiled his precious sabre by using it to kill dear Guangyao. Don't lie to me, Xi… Zewu-Jun. I know how da-ge must feel about me. I've heard he won't even use Baxia, now that she has been tainted."

"You're right, and you're wrong," Lan Xichen mildly protested, thinking of Nie Mingjue’s guilt, of him resenting the sabre that hadn't stopped him from doing the irreparable. "You should speak to him. You've been spying on him anyway, haven't you?" 

Nie Huaisang shrugged, looking away at the ongoing celebrations with affected nonchalance. 

"No more than I've always done before," he said, reopening his fan and moving it in a slow, elegant manner. "I had to keep an eye on things, to see if Jin Guangyao's spell might weaken with time." The fan stilled. "And also to make sure he wouldn't harm you or da-ge," Nie Huaisang confessed. "I knew what he was capable of, even to those he called his friends… and he was getting strong enough he might soon have no longer needed you two." 

Lan Xichen thought of the number of gods, small and big, who had confessed to being part of Jin Guangyao’s network during the trial. And those were only the ones who had been careless enough to be caught. Not to mention Jin Guangyao's cult among mortals had been on the rise in the past century, with more and more officials praying to him for good fortune. 

"Do you think he would have…" Lan Xichen started, only to realise how pointless the question would be. Jin Guangyao had shown he was more than ready to get rid of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at a moment's notice. "Ah. Then I owe you my thanks for protecting us, and Mingjue-xiong as well. I am sure he would love to thank you in person. He really does miss you, no matter what you think." 

"He misses his little brother," Nie Huaisang corrected, fanning himself again. "I'm not sure I'm that person anymore. And I'm not sweet little A-Sang who flirted with you either. That person is dead."

"Then let us get to know you as you are now," Lan Xichen pleaded, aching to reach over the table and grab Nie Huaisang's hand. "We just want you in our lives, whoever you are." 

"If this is about the red thread between us," Nie Huaisang started, squaring his shoulders, but Lan Xichen quickly shook his head. 

It was good to know that they had been fated once, and heartbreaking to realise this had been stolen from them. But having spent centuries at the side of a man who barely tolerated him, all because fate dictated it, had dampened Lan Xichen's faith in the idea of soulmates. That was why he hadn't used the spell which showed read thread a single time since Jin Guangyao’s death, no matter how tempting it had been to see if he could find Nie Huaisang that way.

"I don't trust fate," Lan Xichen said. "It isn't meant to be trusted anyway. I just want to know the person you have become, and let you find out the same about me. If something happens again between us, I will be happy. If it doesn't… then I hope we can be friends. That would please me very much."

Nie Huaisang raised his fan, trying to hide a creeping blush. 

"I see. I see, you're really just as sappy as your brother then!" Nie Huaisang whined. "How terrible, this is just… I don't like fate either. I hate it! But I… I've missed you, and I've missed da-ge. I've missed you both so much, sometimes it felt like it was killing me a second time that I might never be around the two of you again! But you… and da-ge, you really think he'd…"

"I can call him here right now," Lan Xichen offered. "He'll be here in an instant, and he'll tell you himself what he feels."

Nie Huaisang tensed at the offer, the hand holding his fan trembling badly with emotion. But in the end, after a long hesitation, he nodded shyly. 

"I want to see him," he whispered. "I've… I've really missed him." 

"Then I will get him to join us," Lan Xichen replied. "Let's find somewhere more private though. You know how Mingjue gets when he's emotional." 

"He'll cry everywhere," Nie Huaisang laughed, as if his own eyes weren't shiny with nearly spilling tears. "I'll go inside to see if we can rent a private room, just give me a moment." 

He dashed away to find the innkeeper, while Lan Xichen smiled so widely his cheeks hurt. 

What was lost couldn't be retrieved, but hopefully they might build something new from the ashes of everything Jin Guangyao had destroyed. 

[writtenbysj]

A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant To Be…

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Cormac McLaggen

Summary: Unstable relationship.

Word Count: 1362

Cold, salty tears desperately traced your cheeks. Your nose was no longer pink from your blush, but from crying. Your lips--crimson and swollen. You rounded into an alcove before you let yourself truly break down. There, you shakily rubbed your robes against your eyes to dry the tears.

Time with Draco was fleeting, and you had known it. Everyone knew it. It was a pattern, a fucking annoying pattern that was inquisitively predictable, but still you felt you could change him and that you could be the different one.

Being in different houses was already difficult. But holidays were a new added stress that had yet to be endured. Christmas had come and gone. Not to mention not a single letter.

I told you...my father wouldn’t want a non-slytherin at our parties. It’s more than just your blood status.

Draco, I can handle it.

Well, I don’t care. You’re not coming. How daft can a Ravenclaw be?

You hadn’t seen him on the train, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hear the gossip or see the daily prophet with Astoria Greengrass standing proudly in his arms.

“I think it would be best to confront him. I do not believe it to be wise to let others determine the fate of your relationship,” Luna had said on the train.

So that’s what you did. After the thestreal ride to the castle, after the feast you navigated your way to the dungeons. Waiting to the side to avoid wandering Slytherins.

And that’s when you heard it. Lustful giggling and hushed whispers.

You stayed hidden in the shadows as the pair passed, too timid to confront the them. It was then you decided you would no longer seek him first, if he cared he would come to you.

The first night was long and grueling. Constantly tossing and turning around your sheets. Keeping your head buried under your quilt to muffle your cries.

You ate with Luna and Cho that next morning. Poking at your porridge, but not eating because you just could not stomach it. Your friends quieted when Draco and Astoria entered the Great Hall with their friends.

Cho sliding her textbook across the table to keep you from looking at the two, “Have you read this chapter? I don’t understand it.”

Your eyes wandered past her book and to the Slytherin table. His blue eyes landing on yours for a moment before flicking them away. His emotions unreadable.

“No. We haven’t even started our new classes yet,” you said quietly as you stood to exit the great hall.

Your classes had gone smoothly...mostly paired with gryffindors and a few hufflepuffs. You felt as though you could breathe a little more.

You had skipped dinner, and headed straight for the library. Wanting to be alone and tend to your bountifully-assigned homework.

You were deep in a book, reading upon the various uses of the Girding Potion.

“You should be at dinner.”

Looking up, you see his familiar unreadable expression, “You should be with your girlfriend.” Unsure if you meant yourself or Astoria.

His lips crooked into a sad smile, “About that.”

You could feel your stomach hurl down to hell, “No really.” You closed your book, finding the a small power of confidence.

“I’m sure Astoria is looking for you. Practically attached at the hip, you two. You’re a stranger, I don’t even know you anymore. I never should have thought we would really make it, I mean you said it yourself ‘how daft can a Ravenclaw be’.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

“I knew you’d leave me. I just didn’t think you would do it so easily.”

“I’m sorry,” he said painfully, avoiding your eyes.

“Me too, Draco. I wish I could go back and leave you that day we met. I could’ve done the stupid project on my own. Merlin knows you were just using me anyways.”

That night you slept more peaceful than the night before, but your heart was still in peaces. To be so easily replaced was more than soul crushing, it was physically painful. You could feel your stomach knot, and a headache forming from your knit eyebrows.

The next morning you finally ate. Dark rings still circled your eyes like old friends, rekindling a close bond. But the day’s got easier and soon, you could recover from sleepless nights.

Entering charms, you were paired with Cormac McLaggen for a project. Never giving him much thought, you were surprised at his prominent interest in you.

“We can start tonight? I’ll meet you after dinner, we can study at the fields outside,” he said, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You bit your lip, considering his proposition, “Outside? Why not just the library?”

“It's stuffy and we have to be quiet in there. The weather is nice and we can be as obnoxious as we want,” he smirked.

“Obnoxious? What exactly are you proposing we do tonight, McLaggen?,” you giggled.

“Might just take you for a ride on my broom if the project gets too boring,Y/L/N.”

“Last name basis, huh? Well, come find me when you’re done eating,” you said slyly, standing up from your seat.

Dinner went by quickly, and your friends kept giggling at the flirty eyes Cormac kept sending you. Unknown to you, Draco was monitoring you both from his side of the hall. Ignoring his friends and Astoria.

His hands folded into fists, as Cormac approached you and you left with your arm snaked in his. Giggling at his exaggerated gentleman approach.

Studying with Cormac proved difficult when he paid more attention to you than the project at hand. “Cormac, we will never finish if you keep asking about me.”

“Forgive me for wondering how you know absolutely everything about everything.”

You laughed at his statement, “I don’t. That’s hermione, you know, the girl in your house that’s friends with Harry and Ron?”

“Yeah, yeah, but she’s less interesting than you,” he said leaning into his elbow that dug into the grass.

“Well, if we’re not working. How about that ride, hm?” you proposed.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he smirked. Sitting behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your face resting on his shoulder inhaling his musky scent. Flying above the grounds, then the lake, he showed you every inch of the school that he could.

You felt happy and comforted, but still he was no Draco. He later kissed your cheek as you left to return to your dorm. Unsure of your own feelings. On one hand, Cormac was giving you the attention you always wanted from Draco, but still, Draco stoked a fire in you and you found yourself exploring new boundaries with him. And that’s what excited you about him.

“McLaggen, huh? You know he trades girls more than the Magpies trade players right?”

Spinning on your heel, you saw the starkly pale boy emerge from the shadows of a nearby alcove.

“The same could be said for you. Guess old habits die hard,” you said before continuing your retreat.

“Clearly, you weren’t as in love as you said then, Darling. Moving on quickly, arent’ you,” he asked, stepping closer.

“You don’t get to say that. I knew it was coming, for weeks I knew you were growing bored with me,” you said through gritted teeth.

Still, he walked closer, backing you into a wall. “Was I? Or was it in your head? Did you ever go to bed without a kiss here or here?” His sultry lips, kiss the nape of your neck and trek to your lips.

“You were embarrassed. Couldn’t even spend Holiday together,” you spat out.

“That’s on me, Darling. I didn’t want you being belittled by my father,” he said against your lips. His warm breath kissing your hungry mouth.

“Tell me why I woke up to a picture of Astoria in your arms.”

“That’s on me again,” he breathed.

“Then what do you want,” you asked.

“You.”

His calloused hands roamed your back then your butt. Squeezing you closer, until your pelvis grinded against his bulge. His lips bruising your skin.

Pt.2?

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Chapter 10 - Of convenient interruptions and deceiving magpies

series masterlist

warnings: angst, mention of food and eating

word count: 2856

tags: @gloryekaterina​ ; @thatguppienamedbae​ ; @sagittarius-flowerchild​ ; @scoobiessnacks​ ; @pandaxnienke​ ; @harrysweasleys​ ; @ickle-ronniekins​ ;  @hufflepuff5972​ ; @izzyyy-1​ ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @thisismynerdyself​ ; @hufflepuffalice​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ ; @lumos-barnes​ ​ ; @weasleygrapes​ ; @famdomhideout​ ; @mollenniumfalcon​ ; @accioweaslcy​ ; @whizboyhalo​ ; 

 —————⑩—————

January rolled around, bringing the new term with it. With a few months left until the N.E.W.T.s, the professors were nagging the seventh years only ever so slightly more.

So you settled back into your routine – classes, studying with occasional breaks to hang out with your mates. Schoolwork-free evenings spent in the common room or the D.A. meetings that resumed after winter break – those were your treats.

In one of your attempts to socialize whilst getting some revising done, you found yourself sitting by one of the more secluded tables in the library, as to avoid getting on Madam Pince’s nerves too much, with Hermione, Ginny and – Loony Lovegood.

The girl was alright, apart from being blunt and not adhering to some social norms in situations where it really couldn’t hurt – you thought. But there was just something about her that made you uneasy when she was around…

To be fair, you hardly ever studied during those studying sessions with Ginny and Hermione. And today was not that bad – your chat was pretty ‘normal’, Ginny was complaining about her boyfriend – Michael’s recent behaviour.

“Why do I even bother with guys anymore..?” she asked rhetorically, lying down on the table, on top of forgotten books and untouched parchment. “That’s a bit dramatic,” Hermione chuckled sympathetically. “Yeah, yeah… but look at Y/N, she doesn’t care about stupid boys and she’s doing just fine,” Ginny commented and you involuntarily let out a loud, high-pitched laugh, thinking about how fine you were doing, making all of them look at you.

You instantly composed yourself, clearing your throat – they didn’t know. Or at least that’s what you thought.

Luna appeared to be intrigued, Ginny was clearly confused and looked at you with amusement, but Hermione – she had a meaningful look about her and you wouldn’t be surprised, she was good at observing people – she knew.

“Oh no,” you let out as you looked at her and your face fell. It was awkward. “You know.” “I don’t know,” she countered very quickly. “Oh, I think you do-“

“Wait, wait, wait, what’s going on,” Ginny followed rapidly, the words melting into one. Hermione looked down onto the table, unsure what to do and you felt your insides turn. You had not prepared yourself mentally for Ginny to know yet – you just had a bad feeling she wouldn’t like the fact that you fancy one of her brothers. Over the years she had mentioned on multiple occasions how she likes you being Fred and George’s mate.

It’s over – you though – cat’s out of the bag. You glanced at Luna, trying to estimate just how uncomfortable confessing in her presence would make you.

“Y/N’s in love with George..!” Hermione blurted out, covering her mouth right after. “I’m sorry, I can’t deal with situations like that!” she hasted to explain herself when you glared at her accusingly.

“Ginny’s brother?” Luna asked airily.

“Aaaaw…” Ginny moaned in disappointment as if she just dropped a scoop of ice-cream. Though her facial expression was mixed, a grimace with a small smile.

You smiled at her awkwardly and shrugged, but no one said anything else.

You sat in this awkward silence as Ginny watched you with the same, unreadable expression. Luna got back to reading her book, and Hermione pretended to, while biting her lips harshly. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should say something else. When no words seemed fitting, you just fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your notebook page.

“Alright, that’s… that’s good, actually. I prefer for you to date him than anyone else. I wouldn’t want him to end up with some bimbo,” Ginny announced after what seemed like hours, with fake seriousness on her face, then smiled at you cheekily.

“Thanks, Gin,” you breathed out, the word ‘date’ echoing in your mind. Dating seemed so, so remote to you at that very moment. You were glad not to have had added more obstacles to your already tricky path, though.

After leaving the library you made your way to the Great Hall and parted ways. Without much thought, you took an empty spot next to George. You shot him a small smile as a greeting, but he looked distracted. He didn’t talk to you – he wasn’t even talking to Fred, who was discussing the future of the new Gryffindor quidditch team on his other side.

You got a bit worried, nevertheless, you were hoping you were just exaggerating - maybe he was tired. And if anything was actually wrong, he’d tell you when he’d feel ready.

“Pumpkin juice?” you asked, hovering the pitcher above his empty goblet. He nodded, then thanked you when you poured him the juice.

Throughout the meal, you tried to make a conversation, ask about his day and tell him about yours. Whatever his behaviour was, it probably had nothing to do with you, because he spoke normally and wasn’t shutting you down.

When you left the hall, the crowd seemed especially dense, you and George got separated from Fred and Lee and you noticed that when you walked an empty corridor on your way to the common room.

You were close to your destination, you could see the Fat Lady in the distance when George stopped hesitantly. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked around, anywhere but at you. This unusual behaviour made you uneasy.

When he finally looked at you, he spoke, “Y/N,” then crossed his arms on his chest, then turned his eyes back towards the stone floor. “…I’ve been meaning to ask you something, when we’re alone, for a while…” he continued, making your blood run cold. “…What is it?” you asked, doing your best to sound normal.

“You know, you’ve been… you’ve been behaving a bit-“ he bit his lip, looking for the right word, “differently, lately.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands started to tingle and your mind was going a hundred miles per hour. There were countless possibilities as to why he could be asking that question, was it the one you were expecting the most? The one that would expose you?

“Have I?” you continued your act, failing miserably. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was not warm or cheerful like you were most used to, but it wasn’t cold or accusing either. You were at a loss, trying to decipher what was going through his mind.

“Yeah, for some time now,” he answered, nodding slowly.

This did not give you any more information you needed desperately to play this right. You were thinking hard about what to say next, when the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, revealing Lee.

Upon noticing the two of you, Lee beamed right away, clearly not having read into the situation.

“Oi, have you seen what’s happening in the entrance courtyard right now?!” he shouted. “No, why?” George replied, not matching Lee’s enthusiasm. “Come on, everyone’s gathering there!!”

Lee’s appearance cut the topic off completely. The air between the two of you was awkward for the rest of the day but neither one mentioned it again. And the next day, it was like the conversation never happened.

At least formally – it has planted even more questions into your mind.

 —————⑩—————

 “Just remember, the memory must really be powerful and you have to focus!” Harry explained to the group standing in front of him.

You stood next to him, a bit to the side – he asked you to help out with the teaching side a bit that evening, seeing as you’d be working on Patronuses – a spell you had mastered a couple of years before.

“Could we see it again?” asked Colin Creevey, hoping Harry would show off his own Patronus once more. Harry turned to you instead, “Y/N..?” – waking you up.

Put on the spot, you felt a rush of nerves but tried to push them back. You took a deep breath and recalled your go-to memory of a sunny day, three years prior, when George came along with you on a weekend trip to your grandparents across the country.

You woke up with a rush of adrenaline that day. At the breakfast table you kept glancing at the clock on the wall, dreading that no matter how fast you’d finish your toast, you couldn’t be there to pick up George earlier than 8 AM.

It felt weird to depart without Fred, but you couldn’t have expected him to turn his aunt Muriel’s bag invisible, resulting in him being grounded. You didn’t want to be glad he wasn’t there, but the trip with just you and George was something truly unforgettable.

While your grandparents’ place wasn’t anything extraordinary in itself, unlike at your home at the Burrow, the two of you were left to your own device.

Just you, George, sunny weather and the call of adventure.

The memory’s energy filled you to the brim, with full confidence you said “Expecto Patronum!”, excited to see the familiar shape of a feisty wivern.

What you saw when you looked up shocked you – a small bird fluttering its wings above everyone’s heads. Your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at it, the bird perched itself on one of the bookshelves on the side of the room.

The group didn’t notice your shock however, they didn’t know your Patronus’ form, they were in awe of the small animal’s beauty. Everyone – except for two people you had shown your Patronus before.

Of course, you showed off to Fred and George almost right after learning that spell. Which is exactly why they both looked puzzled as well.

“Alright, I think we can get to practice now!” exclaimed Harry, the group scurried and the bird turned into mist, then disappeared.

You tried your best not to dwell on that mystery just yet, but actually try helping others out. Which is why you didn’t stick around Fred and George for too long, afraid that one of them might want to discuss it.

That was until, after many tries, close to the end of the meeting, after succeeding in making a shield form - George’s corporeal Patronus appeared. It was incredible.

“A magpie…” you whispered to yourself underneath your breath, covering your mouth with your hand. A magpie, just like yours, flying in circles above Fred and George.

George stared at it in shock, at a loss of words at first, then a relieved smile started to show on his face.

But then Fred, in a rush of excitement, succeeded as well - his Patronus appearing as a magpie, too.

George’s face fell, and his bird vanished. But you weren’t paying attention anymore.

On your way back to the common room you stuck to Fred, George and Lee, mostly because it was just a custom. The atmosphere was strange the whole way.

You felt tense, you avoided looking at George, afraid it might prompt him to speak to you. You were sure he had figured it all out by now, and you did not want to hear the words of rejection.

After all – if he had felt the same, surely he would’ve reacted more strongly, come up to you right away and confess too – daydreams.

Instead, he was walking a distance from you with a stone face, his hands in his pockets. Fred was walking in the middle, dividing you two – a casual, content expression on his face.

When you got into the common room, most of the D.A. members went upstairs to their respective dorms. You didn’t miss how George sped up in front f Fred and went up - two steps at a time. You collapsed on the sofa, not seeing the point of going about your day at that very moment. You felt crushed.

Just as the last students were leaving, Fred came back downstairs, on his own this time. He was just looking for something to do when he saw you.

He made himself comfortable in the armchair directly opposite you and looked at you expectantly with a smirk.

“You’re alone?” you asked quietly, thinking it was the least invasive way to ask for the information you truly wanted. Fred understood. “I don’t know what his deal is, he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me,” he answered simply. “He’ll sort himself out.”

When you didn’t say anything for a few seconds more, he took it upon himself.

“Soo – you wanna tell me what that was about?” Fred asked the question you expected from the very start. If you were him, you’d probably have asked too, out of sheer curiosity. You took a moment to think, but he was impatient – “the whole Patronus thing – as far as I know, it doesn’t just change on a whim… and a very interesting new form, indeed,” he got to the bottom of the case.

You wanted to tell Fred, you really did. You saw no point in denying it and just making yourself look stupid. He was your friend after all, and even though you had not thought about it, you have gotten even closer lately. Maybe partly because of how things with George changed, or maybe because you’ve all grown.

Fred truly felt like a brother, even if he could be a major prat, he was actually more like a brother to you than George ever was.

The only problem for you was how impartial would he remain? The last thing you wanted was anyone meddling with the situation between you and George – even his twin brother. And it would be hard for Fred not to, but you’d just have to trust him to see what’s right.

“Alright, but you have to promise me something. Everything stays between us, and whatever you do – don’t interfere, please.”

Fred sighed and his smirk got replaced with a kind smile. He got up and sat next to you on the sofa, laying his arm on the backrest. “Alright, promise. I’m listening.”

But where should you start? It felt weird all of a sudden, you’d never discussed your love life with Fred, and admitting to being in love with his brother felt even stranger.

You decided to start as simply as possible.

“I don’t really get it either. You know George and I have been close since we met, I’ve always loved him as a friend, and really didn’t see him that way before…” you spoke as quiet as possible, knowing how the sound could travel in the silence of the common room. You avoided looking at Fred and played with your hands in your lap, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, continuing – “A while ago, sometime in November, it… just changed.”

Fred hasn’t replied right away, and you kept your face down. “I love him,” you whispered, bowing your head even lower to hide your face. “Idiotically much.”

When you finally looked up, Fred was leaning his chin on his arm, on the back of the sofa, thinking.

“And how have you not told him yet?” he asked after a few seconds. “It’s not that simple. And I had a lot to figure out.” “I know, but I don’t get how you can spend so much time with someone you fancy and not snap- and just tell them,” he reasoned, looking at you. It actually made you quite happy - that meant you got to the Fred you wanted, he wasn’t judging you or wanted to tease you, but was trying to really understand and have a conversation. “Maybe…” you mumbled. “And if you’re wondering if I’m gonna tell you he’s in love with you too in a second, then I can tell you right away, that I don’t know. We don’t really talk about stuff like that.” “Better that way,” you pointed out, “I really prefer you impartial.” “Impartial’s a bit much-“ “Regardless, I don’t think he does,” you admitted, seriously. “He said a few days ago that he noticed me acting differently and the whole thing was really strange, but we never spoke about it again. And now today – there is no way he hasn’t figured it out and you saw how he’s acting… He’s probably upset right now because he doesn’t feel the same and knows we can’t be friends like before.”

There was another moment of silence and Fred was about to say something, when the two of you heard a door close loudly in one of the staircases, then a pair of footsteps travelling down from the boys’ dorms.

You automatically turned that way to look and saw George step in, with a neutral expression. He looked at the sofa, then quickly looked around the otherwise empty common room. He glanced at his feet for a second and in the semi-darkness, it looked like he scoffed, then back at you and Fred, with a look in his eye you’ve never seen before. It was hurt.

“Done brooding?” Fred asked, probably as an attempt to lighten the mood, but George turned around without a word and stormed back up.

“He hates me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, feeling tears reaching your eyes, and your whole world falling apart around you.

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 3

The Case of the Curious Clues

Before we start, a quick plea to Grant O’Brien: Please stop finding clues. I can only take notes so fast. You’re killing me Grant. Moving on...

We start off this episode with yet another flashback, this time to the final confrontation of Sly and his supposedly dead arch nemesis Fletcher Cottonbottom at Reichenbunny Falls (...Brennan please). Fletcher was using a local castle as a storage center for munitions but Sly tipped off the cops before they could be moved. They do some repartee back and forth before Fletcher, the madman, handcuffs them together and jumps off the edge. They hit the water but Sly is able to lockpick himself out and escape while Fletcher disappears beneath the waves. 

You know what I got from that story? No body.

Anyway, we jump back to the present where there *is* a body, Squire Badger’s specifically. Everyone in the room who isn’t a PC thinks that this must either be the work of ghosts or Mrs. M who was the only person in the room when it happened (allegedly). 

This is a crucial time for clue gathering and Brennan keeps everyone in initiative for investigative purposes. Now, *so much* stuff happens here that I’m not going to recap every single detail--just the major clues and the things that seem relevant. I’m serious, this is like the volume of info we usually get in the once per season later game lore dump ep but it’s episode THREE.

Daisy tries to find a secret door but critically fails. She clocks Gangie, a fellow criminal, and in the moment Rekha and Katie decide that they prob have worked together in the past even though they are very different kinds of criminals. 

Buck, who is outside listening to what’s going on in the room notices that his ankle knife is missing which is Concerning considering a man was just knifed to death. 

Sly has Lars guard the door (he opens it and Buck is discovered, whoops) and then rolls a NATURAL 20 plus NINE to investigate so Brennan just has to tell him literally everything. RIP to him and me. Anyway, here’s the rundown (along with some of the stuff other ppl got):

Mrs. M’s hands are covered in blood but she couldn’t have done it. Based on her personality for one and for other reasons we’ll get to.

The wound is much messier than it would be if a person stabbed themselves typically.

There is a note in Squire Badger’s handwriting that says “Sylvester Cross I am afraid” No indication of if that was the whole message or if he got interrupted (maybe Buck could figure it out with his handwriting checking skills). Daisy from across the room clocks that Sly’s name is written on the paper but can’t read the rest.

The knife is a hunting knife with a pronghorn handle--an animal not common in England but very common in Texas (and Buck is sweating obv).

There is a slight layer of charcoal type dust on everything on the big resolute desk in the room (which makes sense, ash from the fireplace) but there is parchment type dust on the bust of Barkus Aurelius (OK, that one’s good) on the table and that’s the only place that dust is. Ian later notices that the date on the bust is wrong. 

Speaking of, the desk (which we learn later was put in and taken out of storage once Loan Hall was modernized) is bolted to the ground and a lot of stuff has been thrown off it as if by a powerful force but Sly notices that it’s just the metal stuff like things made of silver or with screws. Stone things like the bust and other non-metal things have stayed put. Plus he smells ozone. This was the work of magnets, not ghosts, he concludes. And, for the record, Grant figured this out himself!

Mrs. M’s eyes are rapidly dilating. She is questioned about what happened and she says that she was told she was fired and would receive a small pension. 

(Not a part of Sly’s clue dump but Buck rolls a 24 with disadvantage to persuade everyone he didn’t do it but then 2 nat 1s in a row to see if Harding--who said he was standing outside the door--is suspect. Buck thinks he’s at most a stooge but he did roll a nat 1 so who knows?)

Anyway, back to Mrs. M. Gangie fully believes Mrs. M is innocent and scared. She doesn’t quite remember what happened for a couple of seconds in there and it’s clear this is not the first time she’s had missing time. Sly calls Longfoot (the bunny photographer) over to take a picture of Mrs. M which everyone is a little appalled at until they realize he’s making a point. When the flash goes off, she bugs out like she did in episode 1 and forgets that the picture was ever taken. Sly then has Dr. Magpie list the symptoms of epilepsy. It seems that Mrs. M had an episode triggered by the flash she mentioned seeing and then lost time. It’s possible that what she thought she saw after that she didn’t actually see.

[While Sly is monologuing this Rekha texts Brennan and gets a 17 to swipe the “I am afraid” note. Sly doesn’t notice.]

So if it wasn’t her, then who was it? There’s only one door into the study and anyone who walked in would have to have walked past Mr. Harding, Shellcrest, Calliope, and Tabitha (who is having a marvelous time being in the midst of so much drama). Ah, but who said there was only one door? Sly has Harding pull a sconce and a SECRET DOOR OPENS! Woo! Finally! It’s a classic bookshelf one that opens into the hallway and there is some extremely fine crushed glass under the door. Hmm.

Sly clocks that there is something under the desk but we don’t know what it is because Brennan texts it to him and it’s redacted. There are actually a couple of redacted texts that go around this ep so we are def missing information. 

OK, that’s more or less everything. 

Sly notices that the page is missing and Grant gasps while Rekha does an excellent job of pretending like she doesn’t even remember what paper is being talked about. Constance asks if it’s possible that Mrs. M totally made up the memory because of her epilepsy and between Dr. Magpie and Sly they determine that that’s uncommon but possible. Dr. Magpie says that everyone should leave so he and Sly can examine the body and Sly says that someone should watch Gangie at all times. 

At this point, Harding and Gilfoyle (the butler) say they should establish where everyone was at the time of the murder. A lot of the staff and guests have solid alibis cause they were in big groups/cleaning up together. But the PCs were off alone (or with each other) and had reasons to want to guy dead so they’re prime suspects. Sly even admits that he’s one too. Also everyone dogpiles Ian because Raph makes it so fun. 

Harding mentions the letter that was given to Buck (the one selling his shares in BB and giving voting writes to his rival Josiah) and asks him to read it. Buck reads it and gives a streamlined version of the truth, saying everything except for the part with the proxy vote. With a 26 he is able to allay everyone’s suspicions for now, but now he’s purposefully hidden the truth in a way that can be readily called out if anyone sees the letter or the contract which he resolves to find. 

Buster distracts the group so Daisy can “check the body for a pulse” aka: check the body for the contract. She doesn’t find a it but does find a key attached to a piece of red silk--something that would be weird for him to be carrying around instead of his valet. She figures this must open whatever locked drawer the contract is in and swipes it but Sly clocks her stealing it (his perception ties her sleathiness but an earlier Bless from Ian tips him over the edge--poetic).  

Calliope says that everyone is kinds suspect, including Sly, but *someone* has to solve this and Sly’s their best bet so everyone should just stay put and they can guard the exits. The butler says that, besides the front door, there are some towers that poke up above ground and a servant's exit/entrance by the elevator in the kitchen wing but they can lock down both and have someone guard the front doors. 

The butler is like, lmao yeah Sly I know you didn’t do it and I’m not gonna stand guard here but you know, everyone is keeping an eye on y’all. And then he leaves the PCs, Mrs. M, Constance, and Dr. Magpie in the room with the body. 

Lars is about to go watch the kitchen staff but, before he goes, Sly says to him that he saw Cottonbottom and is obviously quite scared. Gangie, who used to work for the guy, overhears and asks what’s going on. Sly assumes Gangie is playing coy but rolls high enough to know that he isn’t. He saw a starkly white Cottonbottom and one of his known conspirators doesn’t know he’s back? Perhaps it was a ghost after all. 

Case Notes

My 2 fave bits of this episode were “bad to bad bad bad” (and the further riffing) and Daisy throwing increasingly bigger books at Sly.

Even with a Nat 1, Sly gets a 16 on Investigation. Wild. 

I don’t think Rekha got enough props for her “Cross examination” line so I’m mentioning it here.

Brennan said the ozone question was still open--but I assumed it was like the electricity smell from an electromagnet. That would make sense, right? Maybe he meant they hadn’t found the source of it specifically yet?

Brennan says Buck’s knife is a pronghorn knife. I assume they’re made from the animal’s horns? Even if they’re the kind that fall off every season, is that weird? Or is it just like human hair wigs? Also, does this world have leather?

I love that the dice keep supporting the narrative that Daisy simply cannot get her shit together when she’s with Sly because he distracts her too much. Delicious. Their whole relationship is delicious. 

OK, I am a tiny bit suspicious of Calliope. It’s partially the way she took control of the situation near the end and partially the fact that she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would be involved in this which would make her heel turn delicious. No hard evidence and obv she couldn’t be the person who actually stabbed a guy but idk. Just spitballing. I’m very curious about whether we’ve met everyone we’re going to meet more or less or if there are still outside people/hidden inside people. Because, in real life, a murderer could be literally anyone but in a story, you can’t just introduce a new villain all of a sudden at the end. Bad storytelling. Weak payoff. We’ll see how things start to pan out. 

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia: Ivy on The Run and After the Rain Reviews

Hello all you happy people! We’re into week two and after far too long we finally get some answers.. well okay not the ones we thought we were getting but hey you take what you get sometimes. Point is it’s a big week, with a fun ivycentric episode that fleshes her and Felcia out and a far more serious episode that finally explains a few things, not saying what things because spoilers. So join me under the cut for some smiles, some tears, and a bit of Muay Thai and Myagi-Do as I break things down. 

Ivy on the Run:

I was pleased as punch to find out Ivy was getting an episode. While I couldn’t say she was a faviorite of mine, I always found Katie Crowns performance exceptional, and her a delight to watch. The character wasn’t bad.. but EVERY episode up to this one involving her was about her and Sprig’s relationship which while really fucking precious left little room to flesh her out beyond a love of ambushes and being into the same kid stuff Sprig was into. 

This episode not only corrects that but also takes another suprising leap for the series in having Ivy clearly be the main character of the episode. While this isn’t the first episode to spotlight a citzen of wartwood.. it’s the first where the Plantars are side characters in the plot instead of just as important as whoever got focus or usually more important. Here Ivy is the lead of the episode: We open on her waking up for the day (Or rather having been awake for hours to trick her alarm clock), get a sense of her personality.. and of the episodes conflict: Ivy’s desire to be free and explore versus her mothe’rs constnat anal renttientve insistence she do tea related stuff like fold swans properly. IT’s a decent enough conflict that gets elevated by hte twist at the end. 

So she runs out after that to meet up with Sprig, and ambush him because that’s how thier relationship works. And what I really like here is while their relationships still present in the episode it’s thankfully not the focus or even realy lreated. Their clearly together, it’s just not the focus of the episode> Just some nice ranch dressing atop this salad. While they go to hunt for glitter beetles, Anne is teaching Polly, Muay Thai. The martial art of champions.. specifically one eyed ones who like to put tiger in front of their moves. As for why she took it up her mom wanted somewhere to put her energy, as seen in a flashback with a young Anne adorably banging on pans while singing her own version of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. It’s fucking precious. 

So the couple happily go beetle hunting i’ts precious.. but Ivy’s patience with her mother starts to run out as her mother loudly interupts her hunt to return her for tea practice: stirring it, setting tables, folding swans that sorta thing. All things she clearly dosen’t WANT to do or like and gives the impression Felcia is trying to force her daughter to become more like her and less like herself which... no. Just no. 

Ivy eventually hits her limit with this bullshit, tells her mother off and then stomps off to her room whiel her Mom fails ot understand that MAYBE being hypercirtical of your daughter, even if it turns out you have a good reason, might backfire. Ivy is encouraged by her posters, great scene by the way, to run away and leave town, and take Sprig with her.. whose relcutant as he talked himself up as being really well liked and savy out there but was just okay in practice. 

Meanwhile Polly and Anne continue training but Polly can’t get it as she just can’t calm down and focus, and Anne easily blocks her. In constrast Wally shows up, having apparently been watching them. 

And picks it up instantly. I can see why; Wally seems a bit scatterbrained due to his weird and wonderful nature.. but we’ve seen him be entirely capable when the chips are down, and to be a talented musician. So while he’d SEEM like he’d lack focus, it’s probably way easier to him than the impatient tadpole who just wants to kick ass without getting it takes a few steps. 

Meanwhile Sprig tries to talk his girlfriend out of running away together at 10 only for Sylvia to tail them with those bee phone things she used earlier.. and also be there, as once they clear those out she’s waiting and both end up at the Muay Thai class. Things finally hit their breaking point and Ivy wishes she never had family... and I think this is what finally gets it in Felicia’s head she messed up. She meant well.. but sh’es clearly been so hard on her child that, even if she instnatnly regrets it, she’s willing to disown her own mother if it means getting away from her. 

So Felica gives her a way out: Martial Arts Match. Because nothing says parental love like fighting your daughter for her freedom. Though in her defense things are pretty fair: three matches, and Ivy just needs to win ONE by getting a point on her, like in a martial arts competition. I only know that’s what they were going for because I binged Cobra Kai last month along with the first two Karate Kids. 

And that refrence isn’t for nothing as Felcia easily dominates the first two matches using Miyagi-Do esque moves i.e. pure defense, and with a Miyagi style lesson inside as for the final one.. she has Ivy repeat the various tea things she’d had her do, and just like that amazing fucking scene from Karate Kid, Ivy can now fight and realizes her mother was training her the whole time, as her mom simply wanted her to be readly and as for why Felcia herself is a karate master, she picked it up while gathering tea as naturally it’s incredibly dangerous in amphibia.  

So Felcia let’s her daughte win and expalins she just wanted her to be safe.. which is nice but while her devistaiton earlier clearly shows it, it still dosen’t QUITE justify how hard she was or not telling her why when her daughter is a clear tomboy. I do get the Miyagi-Do training style: it builds muscle memory and means you can defend without thinking, fight without having to plan every punch and kick. It’s brilliant.. but you have to match the training to the student. Daniel hated his traning too.. but Miyagi clearly KNEW he would, knew he’d give out and set it all up that way. Felcia.. nearly pushed her daughter into running away and never apologized. It’s not all terrible as there is the implciation this whole match was Felcia realizing she had to make it clera what she was doing, but it’s still fairly torubling the episode never adresses her behavior outright., even if they make up and Felciia plans to take her along next time. Also Polly punches wally in the face... eh he’l lbe fine. 

Final Thoughts on Ivy on the Run: This one was decent. As said the final part feels a bit... ehhh..as it feels they don’t adress Felicia’s controlling attitude enough.. but it dosen’t detract from a pretty fun episode, especially the Muay Thai stuff. That was an unexpected treat. And let’s face it after recently getting in deep with the franchise thanks to cobra kai, I can’t hate anything that reminds me of  the Karate Kid. In a good way at least. 

After The Rain:

Well this was both a long time coming and as painful as I expected. And after over a year and a half, we FINALLY get some answers.. not ALL the answers but some. Look you know what this episode is about, I know what this episode is about, let’s get cracking in round 2. 

So Anne’s got a letter, anne’s got a letter I wonder who it’s from. Marcy.. it’s from Marcy. Turns out she’s ready to go to the first temple, and even sent them a check list: weapons, food (check and check) and armor. Hop Pop already thought of that.. but instead of badass and practical armor.. it’s padded sumo suits that they can’t move in because “less mobility means less trouble”. Or you’ll get eaten by a hawk.. which given this show is probably also on fire and can shoot acid out of its’ eyes. Or lasers. Or acid lasers. The point is their gonna die. THey also naturally need the music box... which Hop Pop about craps himself hearing. Gee it’s almost like not getting the box sooner when you knew damn well abotu the temple thing and that they’d need it kinda bit you on the froggy bottom Hopidiah. 

It gets worse for him as while he mentions his ‘contacts” again.. that night he goes to dig it up. Problem is, Anne follows him when she hears footsteps, and while she initially assumes i’ts just him being a weirdo and plans to suprise him... we instead get the gut punch we’ve been anticpating for the last year and a half.  Hop Pop shouts about the box being gone, clearly panicked... and Anne hears him, utterly devistated and rightfully FURIOUS. He confesses the truth, clearly feeling guilty for what he’s done and lying all this time but Anne dosen’t want to hear it and storms off. 

Yeah as you can tell this is a rough one. So next morning Hop Pop, who clearly hasn’t slept and given his surrogate grandaughter just rightfully walked out on him why would he, confesses to the kids what he did. And while neither like what he did .. they prioritize getting Anne back, sending him to go fix his mess while they find the box. 

The box turns out to not be the only thing missing: various other things around town have been stolen, including a talisman that if Maddie dosen’t get it back will have horrifying consequences. Classic Maddie. As for why Swampy Joe has the answer: the magpie beetle, a beetle that emerges once every 20 years to steal stuff to use as a shell to impress mates. They find the box.. but it’s in a seatle of beatles and soon get swamped.  Meanwhile Anne’s returned to the cave and... okay i’m just going to have to power through or this episodes going to kill me with sadness. After some bits about her and her rock rocky, Hop Pop finds her and she still has nothing to say to him, again for good reaosn, but before he can get to telling her WHY he did it, they hear the others crying for help and Anne tries to rescue them herself, only helping hop pop do so when he points out they NEED to and even if she rightfully dosen’t trust him she needs to for now. THey save the kids.. and Anne STILL wants to leave.

We then get an even bigger gut punch. It turns out Hop Pop didn’t hide the box for some big reveal.. regarding the box. Turns out it’s not the box itself, his book just says it’s dangerous and w’ell likely find out any specifics it had next week. It’s Hop Pop’s lingering trauma. While we don’t find out why the Box is dangerous.. we do find out what hapepned to their parents. And I just want to say before we get into that Bill Farmer’s acting this WHOLE episode is some of hte finest, if not THE finest in his career. HIs guilt, his pain.. it’s all so raw and palpable. Brenda Song’s no slouch either, Anne’s pain and anger is likewise very well done, but Bill is far and away the mvp of the episode.. and this scene is why. 

He reveals he’s been so cautious, so scared for the kids and so overly protective in general.. because of how the kids parents died, something they don’t blame him for but he does: He was out of town on buisness.. when a pair of herons attacked. Sprig and Polly got to the family bunker in time.. their parents... weren’t so lucky. It’s not the big bombastic arc related death we all thought was coming.. but I like it for it’s brutal nightmarish simplicity. They didn’t die some heroic death, they aren’t still here.. they just died like SO MANY background frogs have. Two wild giant animals they coudln’t possibly defend against got em. Nothing could’ve been done no matter what Hop Pop thinks, theirs no way they coudl’ve been saved, and i’ts LUCKY their children didn’t share the same fate. But their gone and it gives a new, awful meaning to Hop Pop’s overproectivness. Before it was mildly justified if a bit strict.. now.. i’ts him trying not to loose what he has left. Trying to hold on tight to his grandkids so he dosen’t loose anyone else.

He hid the box because his trauma and guilt were so severe he did something very stupid, and regretted it ever since and begs anne to forgive him in THE best line read of Bill Farmer’s long and storied career. And she does, hugging her Hop Pop gently, realizing that while he fucked up.. she gets WHY he did.. and that he’s sorry for it. He wasn’t tyring to keep her from going home or any messed up shit.. he just was trying to keep her and his other kids alive. And as Sprig and Polly say it’s not his fault, it never could’ve been.. he can’t help but feel that way. You just feel.. powerless when you loose someone, like you could’ve done something even though 9/10 you couldn’t have and it leaves a hole you never quite fill. So this hit like a truck. But our family is reconclied and the kids get a look at the entry in  Hop Pop’s ancestral book. What does it say besides it bad? what does this mean? We’ll find out next week. For now it’s just good to have them all together again. 

Final Thoughts on After the Rain: This episode is a masterpiece. It’s exepertly crafted, sticks in a few gags for flavor and only has the sprig and polly plot to help keep the main meat of the plot as light as it needs to be.. and it works. The few scenes we get with Anne and Hop Pop are just plain brutal and exactly what’s needed. It’s one of the series best, painful, raw and with a twist I dind’t see coming. I expected, again like most of us for the kdis parents deaths to be tied into it.. but instead.. it’s just trauma. But it’s satisfying enough that it feels like a great payoff, that it wasn’t some big dark secret like misdirected... it was just an old man who didn’t want to loose what family he had left. And that’s fucking brilliant. 

Next Week: THE FIRST TEMPLE BABY! The Plantars and Marcie head into the woods to fight moblins and ggghosts! I mean.. that is what the forest temple is right? 

Until then follow me for more reviews, follow me on my patreon your support would be appricated and see you at the next rainbow. 

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Ji Ah’s Fate & the Korean Mythology Surrounding It (requested by @kestrel-of-herran)

Ask: One of the most fascinating things for me is the prophecy the fortune teller told Ji Ah when she gave him the fox bead. I feel like that's important foreshadowing for the drama's ending. How would you translate and interpret that?

Note: words/terms left in Korean require context and will be discussed below.

EP06 The Four Pillars of Fate - Ji Ah Trades the Fox Bead

Ji Ah: I’ll repay this eunhye no matter what, please? 

Fortune Teller: Okay, okay! You were a princess in your past life, do you think you’re a princess now? You think if you whine enough you can have anything. Ei! Your hand. Give me thine hand. (Ji Ah extends her right hand). Left hand!

Ji Ah: (changing hands) Left hand. 

Fortune Teller: You were born with a very special saju weren’t you! Water and fire vie on par, earth is clouded, but metal will subdue it, so though darkness should surround you (literally: all four directions, heaven, and earth), a moon rises in your sky. 

Ji Ah: I’m not sure what you mean...?

Fortune Teller: You have the fox bead! For that is your moon.

Ji Ah: Excuse me?

Fortune Teller: Give to me the fox bead. Even without a moon, your saju is overflowing enough. Therefore...!

Ji Ah: I’ll give it to you! I don’t believe in such things as palja. 

Fortune Teller: The deal...has been accepted. 

Ji Ah: Pardon? Already?

Fortune Teller: Your palm lines. Your palm lines have changed. 

(Note: I translated this working from the raw, so I haven’t seen the subs to be able to comment on them). 

Eunhye (은혜)

Commonly translated as a ‘favor’ or ‘debt,’ ‘eunhye’ is distinct from both of these both linguistically and conceptually. When Yeon says that foxes are obligated to repay ‘debts,’ he’s actually talking about eunhye. ‘Debt’ is another word entirely (빚) and it does appear occasionally. The two are distinct. The glowing ring bonds formed between Yeon and Ah Eum, and Rang and Sajang are both manifestations of eunhye. 

One Korean folktale in which eunhye features famously is the tale of the Grateful Magpies (은혜갚은 까치, literally: ‘the magpies who repaid their eunhye’). Shin Joo refers to this in EP02 when Yeon tells him about returning Ji Ah’s eyesight to her even after she tranquilized him:

Shin Joo: And you’re saying you just let her go? And returned her sight, too? 

Yeon: Since rules are rules.

Shin Joo: It’s not as if we’re magpies meticulously repaying our eunhye! Geez, how long do we have to be bound by that sort of premodern contractual relationship?

Eunhye is difficult to translate but can be approximated as ‘help or favor (as in ‘to favor someone’) given willingly.’ In my mind, rather than a debt which is a negative concept, eunhye is more of a positive concept. There’s a voluntary, good faith/good will element to it. So you’re ‘indebted’ as the result of a good deed done for you. Except it’s not so voluntary if you’re a gumiho, apparently. 

In contrast, when Yeon tells Eodukshini, ‘I’ll repay this debt shortly,’ in EP08 (could also be translated sarcastically as ‘I’ll return the favor shortly’), he uses the actual word for debt (빚) - no good will to be had here on either side. 

Saju Palja (사주팔자）

Literally ‘four pillars eight characters’ (四柱八字), commonly translated as the ‘four pillars of destiny/fate.’ The concept comes from the Chinese astrological concept that a person’s destiny or fate can be divined by the two sexagenary cycle characters assigned to their birth year, month, day, and hour. For more on that, I’ll refer you to Wikipedia. ;) 

In EP02, when Yeon asks Taluipa to look into whether Ji Ah’s parents are alive or dead, he has Ji Ah text him their saju (birth dates and times). 

I’m not sure how palmistry fits in with the concept, and am no expert in astrology, western or eastern, so I can’t offer any interpretation of the fortune teller’s prophecy, but if anyone wants to try looking into it I’d be intrigued to hear what you find. Apparently, the writer spent 2.5 years on the script, so I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that there’s actual meaning behind it. 

The Fox Bead (여우 구슬)

Fox beads are a common earmark of gumiho lore in both Korea and Japan (and probably China, too, but I don’t know enough Chinese to speak to that). In most tellings I’ve encountered, a fox can’t live without their bead, but that doesn’t appear to be the case for Yeon. I was also intrigued by the following exchange he has with the Magistrate in EP06:

Yeon: That’s the Mirror of the Moon. Do you mean to harm (literally: catch) a human with one of the four great mountain gods’ four great treasures meant to protect all creation? 

Magistrate: And so, did your fox bead protect all of creation? Or did it protect one person?

To my thinking, this implies that Yeon’s fox bead is being attributed to his status as a mountain god as much as it is to his being a fox. None of our other foxes seem to have one, but none of them are gumiho (gu = nine, ie. the number of tails), much less cheonho (heavenly foxes) like Yeon. 

I’m actually a little unclear on this front as well. According to the excerpt from the Hyeonjoong’gi (玄中記) at the start of the first episode, foxes that live to be a hundred can take human form and foxes that live to be a thousand become cheonho. Shin Joo is obviously at least 600 years old but he doesn’t appear to be anywhere near Yeon’s caliber (or even Rang’s who is half human), something he says himself, and in the spin-off he only had one tail. Yoo Ri is younger still. It’s unclear to me whether they will ‘level up' if they live long enough, or if they will never be as powerful as Yeon, regardless of how long they live. I get the sense it’s the latter. Both Yeon and Shin Joo have said that Yeon was of a different caliber from the very beginning (in EP02 and EP03, respectively). 

Finally, we haven’t been told much about the fox bead’s powers other than emitting an aura only Yeon can see (sometimes) and suppressing Imoogi inside of Ji Ah. I’m hoping we see it again before the series wraps, but not convinced they’ll have time to recover it given everything else that needs to happen.

On another note, based on the preview for EP15, it appears that the Magistrate’s Mirror of the Moon will be coming back into play. My guess is that Imoogi is going to steal it from the Magistrate and use it on Taluipa. She was shown turned to stone in the background while Yeon and Terry-Imoogi fight. That’s originally her power, so I think Imoogi may use the mirror against her similarly to how the Magistrate ‘absorbed’ the sword Yeon sent flying at him and re-directed it at Ji Ah. 

The Jeo Seung Shi Wang (저승 시왕)

The Ten Kings of the Afterlife (jeo-seung-shi-wang) [저승 시왕], as they’re known in the drama, are more commonly called the Ten Kings of the Underworld (myeong-bu-shi-wang) [명부 시왕・冥府十王]. In the subs they appear as the Afterlife Judges, which is accurate in that this is one of the key roles that they perform. As we're told in EP13, the fortune teller is actually one of them. 

Yeon: What’s the word? That fortune teller, did you find out about him?

Snail Bride: I’ve been asking around via our patrons. 

Yeon: He didn’t seem to be just another low-level native (Korean) god. What’s the geezer’s deal?

Snail Bride: This seems like just a baseless rumour, but there was talk that one of the Ten Kings of the Afterlife who rule over hell leaves his position without notice at odd times.

Yeon: Heh...Interesting. In any case, relay any news you hear about that geezer to me as soon as you hear it. 

While the Snail Bride seems to doubt the validity of the rumour, Yeon appears confident it’s true. He later relays this to Team Fox at their strategy meeting:

Yeon: Do you remember the fortune teller we met at the Korean Folk Village?

Ji Ah: Of course I remember! (Shooting Rang a dirty look) Because of someone [your] fox bead was stolen from us.

Rang: I heard rumour he’s a major big shot. Is it true?

Yeon: He’s one of the Ten Kings of Hell. 

Rang: What?!

Yeon: They say he’s also in possession of the Uiryeong’geom (geom = sword). 

Rang: No way~

Jae Hwan: What’s the Uiryeong’geom?

Shin Joo: It’s a sword that cuts evil (literally: sins). 

Jae Hwan: Cuts...evil, you said?

Shin Joo: It’s sword they say was made in ancient days by King Yeomra himself from a branch he broke off of the Uiryeongsu (su = tree) that weighs sins. But, didn’t that disappear from the world several thousand years ago? 

Yeon: (Shaking his head) Uh-uh. The Snail Bride just picked it up.

As you may recall, the Ten Kings are the ones who put a celestial hit on Rang which led Yeon to track him down and pretend to kill him (thanks for the angst), and they’re the ones who passed judgement on Yeon after he killed the mudang (shamanness) and sentenced him to time in the Snow Mountain Prison. 

It appears that there was some confusion going around that the fortune teller is King Yeomra. Given the above dialogue, I can see where people may have understood his possession of the sword to indicate that, and, in truth, we don’t know which of the Ten Kings he is. That being said, I think if King Yeomra was frequently vacating his post without notice, someone would have said something. I also think Yeomra is a big enough name that if it were him they would’ve just come out and said so. Yeomra is also Taluipa’s brother so she, at least, would know. My assumption was that he was one of the other, less well known kings. 

To conclude, this has all been a long way of saying that I have no idea what Ji Ah’s palja will mean for her fate. What I can provide is a little context. I’m not familiar with the sword, and it doesn’t turn up when I google it, so I suspect it was invented for the purpose of the show. Whether it remains a red herring until the end or shows up in the final hour remains to be seen. 

[soysaucecas]

oooh for the ask game 24, 30, and 44!

MAGPIE MY BELOVED HELLO

24. What are your favorite episodes?

The only episodes I've really watched are TMWWBK (which is my favorite episode and I'm certain would still be my favorite if I watched every single one because it has the only SPN character and the only SPN line), The French Mistake (which was funny enough but honestly in the Just Okay category for me, which makes me pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy actually watching SPN if this is one of the funniest/highest-rated eps), and Reading Is Fundamental (my best friend was watching it and asked me if I wanted to hop on Discord, I thought it might be fun to see Kevin's first introduction but instead this ep found the two of us taking like 90 minutes to get through it bc we kept pausing and screaming (derogatory) as the model minority stereotype jokes piled up and up and up... Unfortunately not a favorite even if we got Meg AND the "pull my finger" joke AND the "Sorry" shot). Other than TMWWBK, from clipping and transcript-reading, I like Wayward Sisters (who doesn't?), The Things We Left Behind (Claire!!!! Cas trying to be a dad! The diner scene aka my favorite destiel scene of all time bc being in love just looks so good on Cas! Also the parallels between Claire and Randy and teen Dean and the adults at that club in his story... woof.), Golden Time (Eileen gets to be HERE and be sad and loved and fight people with ghost powers and Cas gets to do a cool speech and a stabbing and do the Asian community a favor), and Lucifer Rising (just immensely sexy on all counts for Ruby, Sam, Cas, and myself). Also I am SO fond of Steve!Cas so I'll add Heaven Can't Wait even if I barely know anything about it.

30. What is an unpopular opinion or headcanon you have about the show?

Ooh okay hm I think. So I adore confession scene, but I don't think the "I cared about the whole world because of you" is like. The Objective Truth the way that most bloggers seem to take it. Cas was lobotomized tons of times before he met Dean, he was described as coming off the line with a crack in his chassis, he's always been the weird little angel who likes humanity too much! I don't think Dean came first, and although gay love was part of what helped Cas invent free will, he *Ruby voice* didn't need the feather to fly, Dumbo! I do think Cas believes what he says in the moment, but I also think he sorta... made himself believe it? This is probably just me deciding that cas-coding should go both ways, but like. I very much crush as a coping mechanism and I very much overascribe my actions to love because it simply seems more noble/poetic to do so. Being miserable because school is hard is cringefail but being miserable because of unrequited love is Good Shit. And I have been in unrequited love with my best friend for at least 7 years (probably 9 but I didn't realize it earlier) and if you asked I would 100% say that she taught me love and defined love for me and that she will be my first and last, but I also know that that is not entirely true; it's just the narrative that I like for myself. And I think that being in an Empty deal contingent on whether or not he LETS himself feel happy would lead Cas to do plenty of mental maneuvering, which I think involved intentional self-poor-little-meow-meow-ification via overascribing his choices and happiness to Dean (and I also think he'd already been doing that for a while just because of personal self-worth issues and because it's a nice narrative). I know as Cas's last Moment on the show it was probably written to be The Objective Truth, but I am perceiving him and I say no.

44. If you could write an episode of Supernatural, what would happen?

Oh scream okay! This is a fun one! I am going to start out with two ideas from other people:

1. Months ago Nate from the pocnatural discord had the idea of an episode from the "monster"'s perspective where the Winchesters are just clearly the antagonists while not doing anything different than they usually do. I think the idea was that all these supernatural beings live in a self-regulating community together and we have one Very Likable pov character who's a member of this community, but one of the newer members messes up one day and kills someone and the Winchesters come on a case and wreak havoc on this Very Much Functioning (there was going to be a whole rehab and reparations thing for the new member who messed up!) system and kill pov character and in the end you just HATE Sam and Dean for it.

2. It's hard to adapt anything from bad moon rising (aka my favorite spn fic) very well because the point of an Arab Winchesters season 1 rewrite is that it doesn't really work with the white characters we have now, but I think I could see a version of chapter 2 adapted as long as Haley (an Ojibwe hunter who lives in the area affected by what Sam and Dean are hunting) takes the lead. I'd especially like to see this section:

Dean laughs, a little disbelievingly. The question has never crossed his mind. “Do you like it?”

This gives Haley no pause at all. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, it’s not really about killing monsters, though, for me. Or, it’s not always about killing monsters. It’s about community. Not violence. It’s a spiritual thing to build a home, you know?”

“Oh,” Dean says. He can’t think of anything else to say. It has never crossed his mind before that hunting could be compatible with a community.

I don't have any original episode ideas to add to the hunting discourse, so we're on to my ideas about character-driven eps. I think I would like to see a version of my sastiel possession fic (ty again for beta-ing that! you're a real one) as an ep around the time of 9.11 because Sam deserves to work through their trauma, but idk what the Dean plot should be for that. Another thing I would like very much is TFW drunk history storytime (so like. Tall Tales bass boosted), where for some reason they all need to go over what they were doing during Stanford era but each of them is telling someone else's story. It's gonna be either Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam or Dean->Sam->Cas->Dean. It starts out very funny (they all have terrible wigs and makeup in the flashbacks. Cas is Jimmy wearing a giant mask with googly eyes on it.) but as it goes on it gets increasingly sad how much these three don't really know each other.

In the Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam episode, Sam's telling of Dean's past veers wildly between "crushing pussy and killing things" and "feels like absolute shit all the time" and it's funny but Not Right and afterwards Dean goes "I didn't know you thought of me that way" and Sam says "... I am basically reading off the voicemails you left me back then" and Dean has to sit there and contend with the mythology he himself wrote for Sam to believe in. Dean->Cas provides the comedic beats for the episode as Dean awkwardly narrates Cas's Life As A Weird Little Guy who watches trees grow and heals babies and in the end Dean goes "so how did I do" and Cas is like "well actually I was either getting lobotomized or murdering people so like 3/10?" The moral of this plot line is that Dean is bi. Cas gives a fairly faithful retelling of Sam living her trans little life at Stanford and veering between trying to be Normal and being a total weirdgirl and feeling guilty and angry and happy and free. It becomes clear that Cas admires Sam a lot (but also feels like. guilt and some self-recrimination for not being that) for rebelling from their dad and exploring their queerness during a time Cas was still to his knowledge in total soldier mode, and Sam is having an a_good_soldier's Thesis 5 moment about how she failed the kid she used to be and how very sorry they are about all the things that happened to them, and Dean hates that this is the first he's hearing about so much of this but is also quite emo about the parts where Sam is struggling. The ep ends with them all in the same room not looking at each other and not knowing if they want to group hug or never talk again.

Dean->Sam->Cas episode is similar but the storytelling dissolves a lot faster as it becomes clearer way faster how much their own emotions are getting in the way. Dean is upset that Sam could leave their family so easily and probably swing a normal life, Sam keeps wondering what it would be like to live millennia just KNOWING that you were right and good and clean, and Cas is gay and veering between fitting Dean's life into a larger Righteous Man narrative and just being very tender (and sad and angry) about Dean's pain. Episode ends in a rather cathartic shouting match where they all end up apologizing to each other for many things.

Oh also I would like to see Cassie again but I don't have an episode in mind there. Also would love to see Kaia adjusting to life in Sioux Falls and befriending the others and dealing with Bad Place trauma.

tysm for the questions sorry for taking so long!

(ask game)