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deathbyautopilot · 1 year

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Social Connections, Severed Wires - The Rise of Short-Form Intimacy

Written by Sophia 🌀

In a Logic Mag interview with Digital Media lecturer Ysabel Gerrard, the state of the internet is summed up by vague mental health rhetoric; It is both harmful – increasing feelings of insecurity, depression, and loneliness – and potentially lifesaving, fostering tight-knit communities especially for queer, mentally ill, or otherwise socially ostracized groups.

Of course, with the function of each social media platform evolving quicker than content moderation or sociological studies can begin to address, it's a Sisyphean task to try to find a single answer to the question “What is the internet doing to young people?”. As Gerrard said, it's hard to draw any generalized conclusion about the internet's effects because it is so highly contextual. But I want to take a more critical perspective on these online communities for their feigning of intimacy and love for the sake of self-gratification.

Art by Holly Warburton

When I reminisce about 2014 Tumblr, I first think about how it normalized queerness for so many young people, helping to form lifelong friendships and communities that made middle school a little less miserable. It introduced me to feminist theory, artistic expression, and new perspectives that I never would have experienced in my class of eight people. But it was also an era of wallowing in your own misery and #Depression-posting that predates the adult content ban. Ironically enough, in my trip through the relics of this site, I had to scroll past no less than three graphic images of self-harm just to find a post as iconic as this one:

When scholars like Gerrard speak on the double-edged sword of these online communities from a perspective of content moderation or outside observation, I feel that they miss out on just how low the lows were, and still are, for those participating in these spaces.

Mental illness is competitive. When someone spends their offline life craving recognition or love from their peers, authority figures, and family, in their yearning, they spiral. The internet is an accessible echo chamber of validation under the guise of community support. These online spaces are committed to suffering because it’s so often the only clear way that you connect with each other.

This is why I can't fully sympathize with the perspective that these spaces are positive support systems. I can't in good faith even reference the #Pro Ana tag here as a prime example for just how harmful they are. These are not spaces of love and healing - it's the result of placing something as intimately human as our isolation and loneliness into the hands of something so cold, lifeless, and inhuman.

"Our hearts connect with lots of folks in a lifetime but most of us will go to our graves with no experience of true love.” - bell hooks

These issues only seem worse when I turn to contemporary TikTok, a platform where each person’s feed is fully customized, making it even harder to understand its effects on our well-being. Whenever I open the app, it’s a complete toss-up between artists sharing their work, Family Guy clips, and what Haley Nahman coined in a Substack essay as “Short-Form Intimacy” - paralleling the worst of Tumblr.

“TikTok satisfies our desire to experience the world in its full spectrum, but only superficially. ‘It's not going to stay with you,’ said [Sociologist Alison Hearn, Media Studies professor at Western University] ‘It's not a real solution to the problem of social connection.’”

Edit by kamrynmarie._ on TikTok

Maybe it’s a short-form personal anecdote, or maybe it’s a young girl crying because she can’t bear the weight of it all anymore. I see so many people desperately turning to the illusion of a community that has never, and likely never will, hold you in their arms and tell you that you are loved. People who won’t sit on your bed with you and talk late into the night about your fears, your ambitions, your love, and your pain. Instead, they will leave a comment of sympathy, maybe go so far as to tap the quick-follow button to be a bit closer to this person, but ultimately the majority of users will just go right back to their escapist scroll through their neverending For You page.

It's a concerning trend, but I'm more concerned for the person behind the screen, who sat in their misery for so long that they could only prop up their phone, hit record, and hope that somebody will hear them.

In times like these, when love and intimacy come into question, I turn to bell hooks, a radical black feminist whose seminal work All About Love: New Visions responds to lovelessness in contemporary society. She believed that true love and intimacy are incompatible with consumerism since material desires are so much easier to satisfy than the void that loneliness leaves us with.

TikTok promotes an individualist, consumerist culture as it stands post-pandemic, where alienation has us all realize that the dopamine hit from each scroll is a far easier fix than emotional fulfillment.

“But many of us seek community solely to escape the fear of being alone. Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.” - bell hooks

In a social landscape that ostracizes young people further and further, pushing them into the online sphere if they want to foster meaningful relationships, it is no wonder that these platforms have become emotional graveyards. Tumblr nostalgia is in full swing and the imminent loss of Twitter feels like such a devastating loss to so many different communities. I just hope that TikTok goes next. Hell, I’d stoop as low as Facebook if it meant I could love online like I did when I was 12.

#death by autopilot #bell hooks #all about love

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willowwind78 · 1 year

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Horde of 3.

Great job on the recruiting Gaarl! Welcome Muurl to the horde. Muurl was recently an innocent bystander in a street fight. I found him amongst my other miniatures nearly finished and he had somehow suffered a significant punch to his nose presumably from the incident with Gurlaag’s recruiting. This inadvertent splatter just adds to his charm. I can’t say as I would have thought to give one a bloody nose. I’m not overly big on gore but when it comes to zombies to not have any is weird.

You’ll also notice my zombies are all freshly made. These are not rise from their graves zombies these are turned zombies. You can’t have abs like that if you’ve been dead for any length of time. Looking at him now I feel like he needs an earring. If I remember that when I get home from work I’ll give him one.

Yes, I am posting on Tumblr at work. I’m a pastor. I work 24/7. Today I’m physically in my office as opposed to working from my dining room at home. I’m here with Bayley who is quite honestly driving me nuts. Love puppies. But, I digress this post is supposed to be the story of Muurl who I was originally going to name Guurl but that name might be saved for the next orc I add to my horde.

Guurl is a lovely fella widely known in the orc world for his incredible log dancing abilities. Being a lumberjack can get boring from time to time, so the orc’s in this clan started dancing on logs as they chopped to make the day less monotonous. Turns out, the physical labor combined with the dexterity and balance of dancing made them into formidable warriors much more so than the lumbering oafs of the other tribes (and more attractive to the females too).

Many a battle began with orcish dance, female spectators, jealousy, and the swinging of axes. It was upon one such rally Gaarl stumbled upon. Pretending to be an voracious female he pounced upon Muurl and has now made him an integral part of his three orc horde. Muurl hopes to embrace his new role and spread orcish dance to new clans. He feels the biting and disemboweling will fit nicely into his routine.

#zombicide #zombicide green horde #orc #miniature painting #painting miniatures #lord of the dance #how not to paint miniatures #miniature pinscher #Bayley #dnd

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k--havok · 1 year

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I posted 777 times in 2022

That's 666 more posts than 2021!

162 posts created (21%)

615 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@k--havok

@space-cadead

@autisticwolfesbrainisautistic

@ren-c-leyn

@writingpotato07

I tagged 549 of my posts in 2022

Only 29% of my posts had no tags

#shutuplanx - 126 posts

#writeblr - 87 posts

#inspo - 73 posts

#wid - 61 posts

#writeblr community - 54 posts

#waking into divinity - 51 posts

#response - 44 posts

#writers on tumblr - 35 posts

#writing - 32 posts

#ref - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#at this point i could spin a couple of wheels and bake smth in a random generator and itll turn out better than whatever my brain poops out

My Top Posts in 2022:

OSIRIS’ TRIALS

Rating: E for Explicit, M for Mature Art belongs to ARTdemariel on Twitter

He was many things. An artist. A black-belt. Gunslinger. Snob. But more than any of those things, a jack of many, many different trades.

Dakarai Zoheir is an enigma that lies in the shadows. His business is more than just death, however. It's art. When a mysterious client contacts him and offers him the chance to kill the billionaire Renenetmos Nimr, it doesn't take long for him to accept. But this job isn't like any other.

Renenetmos is no average man. Nor is he an average billionaire. He's something far beyond Dakarai's imaginations and nightmares.

[Introduction Chapter/Pilot]

Read now! Only on:

AO3

Wattpad

Please read full summary/tags and warnings before reading. Links will take you offsite.

Like my work? Buy Me A Coffee

20 notes - Posted April 14, 2022

33 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

hate hate HATE the idea of sex scenes being superfluous and unimportant.

Sex scenes can:

Be for titillation (yes this is ok!)

Be a plot point

Show intimacy between 2+ characters

Be used as part of a character study

Be any other reason you can think of

Just because you don’t like sex scenes doesn’t mean they aren’t there for a reason (even just for titillation).

Sex scenes do not make a work less literary or automatically genre fiction. They do not make a work have “less meaning” automatically either.

Let people write what they want to write in peace.

42 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

I've been obsessed about monsters with a gargoyle type of anatomy. With beautiful large wings and they twitch and flutter during pleasure

100% yes to wings. I know you said gargoyle like anatomy but like... if you think about it, gargoyles are pretty romantic (or maybe i’m weird idk) Also does anyone else remember that TV show Gargoyles from Disney?? I can blame half the reasons why I'm like this on kids shows ngl

Also idk if you were expecting wing kink but here we go~

Gargoyles

Rating: T Tags: Wing play, sensuality, lore building

Gargoyles may look intimidating, but in reality such is not the case. They are protectors of the home, old warriors, and vigilant beasts who stalk the night.

During the day, their skin hardens to rock as the sunlight graces their powerful shoulders, where wings sprout from their back. The deep slumber is required to maintain their nightly activities and energy.

But as the sun falls from the sky, and night reigns the firmament, they come alive as moonlight washes across their forms. Their bodies rise, their flesh cracking from the daily disuse. As they shed their daytime sleepiness, the battle beings.

Gargoyles are fiercely loyal creatures. They have an innate sense of intuition and the uncanny ability to read the intentions of others. Those who wish to undue harm upon the home best beware. A gargoyle’s tough hide keeps them protected from both magic and blade. Their stone flesh hinders metal strikes. Powerful magic glances off their sculpted physique, leaving naught a mark behind.

A home is not just a place, however. Home can be found in others as well. And if a gargoyle chooses you as a home, they will spend all of their immortal life protecting your form. Even after death, it is not uncommon to see a gargoyle hunched over a grave, protecting their person, their livelihood, their hearth, until the end of time. Even after bones become dust.

Many see these creatures as terrifying. And in the midst of battle to protect those who they deem important, it is understandable. Gargoyles need no magic. Nor do they need weapons other than their powerful wings, tough claws, and fangs.

A gargoyles’ wings are yet another powerful tool of their disposal. As gargoyles are heavy, stone-like creatures, their wings need to be equally powerful and large to lift their bodies into the air. A gargoyle does not have organs as humans do, as they are made of stone. And although their skin is tough and impervious to most things, their insides are hollow and full of their own inner magic.

It is a myth that gargoyles cannot feel touch. They can sense the warmth of a coming dawn, the cool breeze of night, and those who dust tender fingers across their spine. As most gargoyles usually only feel the lacerations of battle, a more delicate touch is usually quite foreign to most.

Although made of stone, all gargoyles have softer spots of their body, akin to pressure points in that of a human. This is especially true around the base of their wings. The base of the wing is the most delicate part of a gargoyle and most avoid allowing enemies to get purchase or even others to touch them.

But, for someone who has befriended a gargoyle, and who has gained a gargoyle’s full trust, touching the wings is a rare gift.

When touching the base of their powerful wings, the stone is more brittle. Softer. Almost like limestone. It is often cold due to outside temperatures. The gentle dusting of a few fingers will often lead to a small, full-body shudder. The wings, usually still, lower and open wider, allowing further access to those the gargoyle trusts. A slightly stronger press, akin to the kneading of a cat, lends to further reactions. When the uncertainty and strangeness subsides, a new desire burns.

Gargoyles often show their emotions with their tail. While a quickly lashing tail may denote rage, flicks of the tip often point towards pleasure.

Some gargoyles have more sensitivities in the wings than others. For those who are extra sensitive, all it takes is a long stroke down the forelimb of the wing, from the joint of the spine toward the first finger of the wing, to induce utter wanton. A gargoyle may open their wings full to the sensation, bowing their head down and curling their limbs beneath their rock-hard bodies in a show of absolute trust and adoration.

Most who gaze upon the gargoyle do not see a creature of elegance and resignation. But those who can are graced with a sight like no other. Wings powerful enough to snap metal tremble beneath soft, fleshy fingers. The guttural moans of a gargoyle sound similar to that of crumbling stone. Their glowing, pupil-less eyes somehow roll to the back of their skull from the bliss of such machinations.

For the truly lucky and adored, such attention and care may lead to a gargoyle wrapping their powerful, stone wings around you. Although their flesh may be rough, their touch and passion are not.

76 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

729 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Long post #I’m gonna annoy u all w this

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zombolouge · 1 year

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I posted 9,471 times in 2022

That's 5,247 more posts than 2021!

188 posts created (2%)

9,283 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@outerspacejellyfish

@m0th3rw4r

@trainwreckgenerator

@wrongcielo

@fewderpewders

I tagged 433 of my posts in 2022

#zombolouge writes - 135 posts

#shakarian - 84 posts

#fic - 69 posts

#mass effect - 52 posts

#longfic - 41 posts

#dragon age - 40 posts

#no star falls twice - 27 posts

#mass effect 3 - 26 posts

#for her grave a galaxy - 22 posts

#mass effect 2 - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and if you read my shit and still think being a terf is the right way to be then you understand absolutely none of my writing and characters

My Top Posts in 2022:

reasons I’ve cried this week:

finished a big fic series

made very good fish tacos

stubbed my toe

fic comments

a fly wouldn’t leave me alone

thought I saw a face outside but it was just my reflection

I own this one lamp that’s really cool

I don’t have anymore fish to make fish tacos

I got mad that I’ll never fly to space

somebody on an old ep of Masterchef got eliminated for an ugly but delicious cake

I have a lot of emotional range but it all funnels into whatever part of my head chooses tears as an outlet.

19 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

I don't want a job. People should just look at what I've already done in life and give me money about it.

22 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

No Star Falls Twice: End.

art by @peachcott

Well, we’ve arrived at the final push.

Chapter 31: I Promise, Chapter 32: The Cradle of All The Stars, and Chapter 33: Epilogue: A Soul for the Cosmos are all live.

Thanks to all that joined me on this adventure. <3

24 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

Zom’s Writing Masterpost

ALL THE THINGS I’VE WRITTEN AND PUT OUT INTO THE VOID. Figured I’d compile it and make you look at it from time to time in the hopes that someday, eventually, one person will rise to the challenge and be the first to read all of it. ;)

FANFICTION by fandom

Dragon Age Series (948k words, 6 completed works and 1 WIP)

Mass Effect Series (415k words, 3 completed works)

A sequel Mass Effect Series (currently WIP, is related to the first but not connected on AO3)

Ace Attorney (277k words, 1 WIP)

Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (174k words, 1 WIP)

Ninja Sex Party (43k words, 1 completed work)

Mystic Messenger (386k words, 1 completed work, and also this one is old and therefore a little rough around the edges by my own current standards but check it out if you want to measure my GROWTH)

There are also a handful of oneshots on AO3 amidst the bigger works.

ORIGINAL WORK

Luckless Series (fantasy, humor, heart)

Unlucky

The Lavender Dame

Standalone Fiction

The Choosing Chain - existential fiction about grief, trauma, and processing it all.

30 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Color of the Cosmos

art by @peachcott

NEW FIC ALERT, BABES!!! I’m writing some Mass Effect fic now, please join me in Space Feels about Shakarian.

Chapters 1 and 2 of The Color of the Cosmos are live today, then you’ll get a chapter every other day until it’s all posted. Fic is done, second fic in the trilogy is almost done, third fic has plenty of work on it, and I’m an inhuman monster so I write fast enough that you shouldn’t have to wait. ;)

I worked hard on this so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. <3

35 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I don't think I realized my ME posts had gotten that many notes #paltry notes I know but it did make me grin a lil

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besanii · 3 years

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For the anon thing, I started following Shattered Mirrors before I even had a Tumblr. I just kept the masterpost open and refreshed on a daily basis. I still keep it open in one of my tabs and check it periodically to make sure I didn't miss anything accidentally. I love pretty much all of your writing, but Shattered Mirrors has a special place in my heart.

Hi nonny! Thank you for your kind words :))) Have some more SM!!

Shattered Mirrors 70

[directly precedes #26]

In the end, it is Nie Mingjue who lands the killing blow, taking off Wen Ruohan’s head with a swing of his mighty sabre. Lan Wangji watches it happen from only metres away, fending off the Qishan soldiers charging their way up the grand staircase towards the Nightless City stronghold and their king. He doesn’t register it at first, not until he looks down to see the head of Qishan’s monarch at his feet, dark eyes staring lifelessly up at him, mouth still twisted in a snarl.

It is strange, he thinks numbly as weapons clatter to the ground around him, that the once-fearsome ruler of Qishan who had been the cause of decades of grief for Gusu and its allies is now reduced to little more than a bloodied corpse separated from its head.

“You alright, Er-dianxia?” Nie Mingjue asks gruffly, shaking off the worst of the blood from his blade with a flick of his wrist before wiping it on the corpse of a Qishan soldier. “Not much to look at, is he? Still, I’d say it’s an improvement.”

“Wangji congratulates Qinghe-wang on his victory,” Lan Wangji says, bowing to Nie Mingjue as he approaches. “Wangji has heard many stories of Qinghe-wang’s prowess in battle. It is an honour to be able to witness it in person.”

Nie Mingjue waves him off with a snort. “Gusu-er-dianxia is too generous with his words. It is I who must thank Gusu for the chance to take this dog’s head from his body.”

With Wen Ruohan and both his sons dead, the Sunshot War is officially declared over, and all fighting ceases on the front lines as soon as the news spreads. The majority of the surviving troops gradually begin the journey home, but some remain behind, tasked with overseeing the dismantling of war camps, processing prisoners of war, as well as rebuilding the villages and towns affected by the fighting.

Lan Wangji is immediately recalled to Gusu on Lan Xichen’s orders. Despite his desire to help, he knows he cannot defy Imperial orders again, so he has Lan Guoyan stay behind in his place, packs his bags and sets off for the capital. Everywhere they pass on their way back to Caiyi bears the marks of war—villages burnt, orphans and widows on the streets, injured soldiers in makeshift hospitals, once-fruitful and lush fields scorched and blackened beyond recognition. It will take many years of careful management to set things right again; in the meantime, the best they can do is to clean up wherever they can and provide the support and supplies their people desperately need.

He rides for the palace as soon as they enter the city.

Ordinarily, customs dictate that returning officials and soldiers must bathe and make themselves presentable before appearing before the Emperor as a sign of respect, but Lan Wangji knows it will make no difference now whether he carries the dust and grime of the road on him or not. He dismounts hastily at the gates to the Imperial Palace, where Eunuch Yang is already waiting.

“This servant greets Er-dianxia,” he says with a low bow. Lan Wangji nods.

“Yang-zongguan.” He hands off the reins of his horse to one of the soldiers who had followed him here. “I am here to see my brother.”

“Yes, Er-dianxia,” Eunuch Yang says, holding out an arm in the direction of the main hall. “Taizi-dianxia has tasked this servant with bringing Er-dianxia to the Great Hall immediately upon his arrival.”

The Great Hall.

Lan Wangji takes a deep, calming breath.

“Then I must trouble Yang-zongguan,” he says with a curt nod.

It is almost midday by now, which means the court’s morning session should have ended a while ago—but when they arrive at the Great Hall and Lan Wangji’s presence is announced, the entire court turns their heads to look at him. Lan Xichen stands below the throne, one arm tucked behind his back and a calm, neutral expression on his face as Lan Wangji strides down the aisle dividing the civil officials from the military. Not a sound escapes their lips, but he feels their eyes on him, their censure and disapproval burning into the dirt-stained cape trailing behind him.

He sinks to his knees before the dais, and touches his forehead and hands to the floor.

“Greetings Taizi-dianxia,” he says, voice loud and clear in the hall despite the words being directed to the floor. “I ask forgiveness for not having time to make myself presentable to Taizi-dianxia before coming here today.”

Lan Xichen inclines his head in acknowledgment, but his expression does not soften.

“Huangdi is welcome back to court,” he says. “You are to be commended for your part in the war, and in the execution of the tyrant Wen Ruohan. For this, Huangshang has bestowed upon you the title Hanguang-wang. You are granted Hanguang Manor as your permanent residence, effective immediately.”

Lan Wangji exhales. The message is clear—as a prince who has come of age, Lan Wangji is no longer permitted to live within the Imperial Palace; instead, he is granted a title and a residence in the city, and is only permitted to visit the palace on official business, or when summoned. His brother, as the Crown Prince, had moved out of the Inner Palace and into the Eastern Palace when he too had come of age. Lan Wangji keeps his head lowered to the ground.

“Er-chen thanks Huangshang for his generosity,” he says. After a pause, he continues. “There is one further issue for which I must ask Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia for their forgiveness.”

A tense, pregnant pause follows. This, Lan Wangji knows, is the real reason why the court has been kept back long after the morning session has ended, the reason why he has not been permitted to rise to his feet.

“What offence has been committed that Hanguang-wang must ask for forgiveness?” Lan Xichen asks, keeping his voice carefully devoid of any tell-tale inflection.

“Replying to Taizi-dianxia,” Lan Wangji says. “While stationed at the camp in Jiangling, a messenger arrived from Yunmeng seeking aid. Even knowing there were many things suspect about both message and messenger, I abandoned my post to travel to Yunmeng without first seeking permission.”

Murmurs break out amongst the officials at his declaration. As a soldier, abandoning your post during war is an act of desertion, punishable by death. For Lan Wangji to have committed such an offence, as the commander of the Jiangling front and a member of the Imperial Family, even if he escapes execution, punishment is inevitable. All eyes shift towards Lan Xichen, still as a statue above them, looking down impassively on his younger brother prostrate before him.

“That is indeed a grave offence,” he says. “An offence punishable by death. Do you acknowledge this?”

“Yes, Taizi-dianxia.” He ignores the collective intake of breath around him. “I accept whatever punishment Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia see fit.”

“Taizi-dianxia!” A voice rings out in the hall and there’s a flurry of activity as the ranks of the military officials part to allow one of their own to kneel behind Lan Wangji in the aisle. “Hanguang-wang has indeed committed a grave offence, but this lowly official dares beg Taizi-dianxia to take into account the many great deeds Hanguang-wang has accomplished in the war against Qishan, and spare him from execution!”

And then, as though his words had broken a dam, the officials in the hall—both civil and military alike—fall to their knees and prostrate themselves before Lan Xichen.

“We beg Taizi-dianxia show mercy!”

Lan Wangji raises his head enough to meet Lan Xichen’s eyes briefly, before lowering his gaze again. “Taizi-dianxia, wrongdoings must be punished. If the Son of Heaven breaks the law, he is just as guilty as the common folk. What example would I set the people of Gusu if I shirk the consequences of my actions?”

Through all of this, Lan Xichen remains quietly listening and observing each of them in turn. He holds up a hand for silence; a hush falls over the court as they await his ruling.

“You have all made valid points,” he says, nodding his head slowly as he considers their arguments. His face gives nothing away. “Such a grave offence cannot be overlooked, of course, and due punishment must be dealt. However—” He raises his voice when it looks like the officials may protest, “—what Lin-jiangjun says is not without merit. Without Hanguang-wang’s efforts, victory against Qishan would not have been possible. With this in mind, Hanguang-wang shall be sentenced to thirty-three strikes with the disciplinary whip.”

Lan Wangji sinks to the floor, an odd calm falling over him. A public whipping is one of the lighter punishments for the crime of desertion, but a harsh one nonetheless. No one watching would think he had gotten off lightly because of his status as an Imperial Prince, especially not when it must be endured publicly. He thinks of the message still tucked away inside his robes, of the length of red ribbon resting over his heart, of the massacre left behind in Lotus Pier, and knows in his heart that he would do it all again.

“Wangji gives thanks to Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia for their benevolence.”

Notes:

Huangdi (皇弟) - Imperial Younger Brother, opposite of Huangxiong (皇兄)

Er-chen (儿臣) - Son and Subject, used by princes to refer to themselves when talking to the Emperor - in this case, LWJ is thanking his father in absentia (because LXC is representing the Emperor as Regent, thus his decisions are considered on behalf of the Emperor).

master post is here: besanii.tumblr.com/shattered-mirrors-master-post

buy me a ko-fi: ko-fi.com/besanii

#hey nonny nonny #asks #mdzs #wangxian #shattered mirrors fic #shattered mirrors au #王爷机 X 花魁羡 #my writing #prince!lwj #courtesan!wwx #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen #wei ying arc

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foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 89

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 2, Chapter 20 (Part 3)

Xichuan, nighttime:

“Your Highness.” Zheng Yan strolls slowly over. “We’ll have to head out tomorrow. Your Highness should wash up and get some sleep soon.”

Cai Yan sits facing a pile of memorials from behind his desk. He sends Zheng Yan a glance, and replies politely, “Zheng Yan, you may go get some rest.”

“Still waiting for that guy?” Zheng Yan is always hitting him where he hurts, and he has no filter at all. Sometimes Cai Yan really does want to make Wu Du poison Zheng Yan to death.

“Who am I waiting for?” Smiling, Cai Yan answers a question with a question, “Well there’s no one in particular I’m waiting for, but who are you waiting for, Zheng Yan?”

“Oh — well naturally you’re waiting for a corpse, then?”

Cai Yan can’t even force a smile anymore; his expression is utterly forbidding. And so with a smile Zheng Yan says to him, “I’m going to go see your uncle and have a drink with him. Would Your Highness like to come? I presume the corpse won’t be coming any time soon.”

Cai Yan can only say stiffly, “Zheng Yan, you jest.”

“The general amnesty is coming tomorrow.”2 Zheng Yan rocks the cup in his hand. “I heard a whole bunch of bastards will have to be set free. Looks like Your Highness is just full of benevolence, hmm?”

Once again, Cai Yan seems to freeze. He says with perfunctory formality, “His crimes are not so grave as to be deserving of death, and now is the time for new blood. Unless there’s something you want to say about ‘Feng’, Zheng Yan?”

Zheng Yan looks Cai Yan up and down with a smile on his face.

“You’re not like your dad.”

Cai Yan’s entire expression darkens in an instant, turning terribly grim — as though he even has a mind to kill Zheng Yan now.

Zheng Yan adds, lackadaisically, “Life is bitterly short. One must make merry while one is able, hmm?”

“Zheng Yan.” Cai Yan’s voice is shaking, as though it’s filled with an anger he can barely contain. “Go get some rest. The day of sacrifice is already over. Don’t come to goad me again. I’m exhausted.”

But instead of leaving, Zheng Yan sits down instead on the steps in front of Cai Yan’s desk with his back towards him.3 He speaks, as though mumbling to himself, “The world is basically a great big dyeing vat; get close to a certain sort of person, and that’s what you’ll become.”

Cai Yan says gruffly, “What are you trying to say, Zheng Yan? Are you telling me to keep my guard up against ‘Feng’?”

"While it’s true that ‘Feng’'s schemes are malicious, what he has are covert schemes, and not overt schemes. They never did reach the level of needing one to go out of one’s way to be on guard against. I’m merely suddenly reminded of the late emperor.

“All the manifestations of the world are multicoloured and filled with far too many colours, and any person will be dyed the colour of whatever position they’re in; save the late emperor, who was his own colour altogether.” Pausing here, Zheng Yan rises, and smiles at Cai Yan. “Whether black or white, the late emperor with the Zhenshanhe in hand remained unmoved. Work for him long enough, and you’ll somehow see your own true nature. All the other colours will fade away, and what’s left is a sheet of white paper. It’s a bit like being able to steal a glance at the ‘will of heaven’, more or less. I only hope Your Highness will also keep this in mind.”

Cai Yan finds himself momentarily distracted, much to his surprise. Zheng Yan gives Cai Yan a shallow bow, and without showing any sign of his prior drunken stagger, kicks up the ends of his robes as he exits calmly from the room, leaving Cai Yan lost in thought in the palace hall.

An autumn wind blows by, and the gardens are full of fallen leaves. By now, barely anyone is left in the palace to prepare for the commencement of their journey tomorrow.

Li Yanqiu is sitting inside looking out at the view in the gardens, his mind wandering. Empress Mu Jinzhi has already left with the Mu retinue. The giant palace around him is full of empty halls and feels rather dismal. There’s a bowl of medicine on his desk, already gone cold.

Zheng Yan walks past via the corridor, looking as though he’s never quite awake. He sits down next to Li Yanqiu.

“Let’s drink!” Zheng Yan raises his bottle full of wine at Li Yanqiu. “I drink my wine, you drink your medicine.”4

Li Yanqiu picks up his medicine bowl and bumps it lightly against Zheng Yan’s bottle.

“Did you just come over from the Eastern Palace?” He asks.

“Your Majesty’s darling boy is still in the Eastern Palace, annotating memorials.” Zheng Yan leans back against the edge of the low daybed. “By the look of him I’d like to think he’s a bit like you, and not like the late emperor.”

The Li family founded their empire by military might, and this spirit has passed on through the generations so they’re not all that strict when it comes to etiquette. Li Yanqiu is rather casual in the way he treats his court subjects, but Zheng Yan is special — rather to say the relationship between them is that of an emperor and his subject, they’re more like old friends.

“He doesn’t have my brother’s temperament.” Li Yanqiu sighs and shakes his head. “But he has a good heart. I’m sure he resembles my sister-in-law in that way.”

Zheng Yan thoughtfully turns his gaze up at the blue sky beyond.

Li Yanqiu adds, “I fell asleep for a while earlier, and somehow had a dream about him. He didn’t come on his death anniversary, but he’s come now.”

Zheng Yan doesn’t reply. Absentmindedly, he takes another sip of wine.

“I dreamt that I was on a bridge. I suppose the opposing shore wasn’t even the mortal world anymore, and there was a sheen of moonlight over everything. He said to me, ‘My son’s come home, so it’s about time to relocate the capital. It’s been another year’.”

Zheng Yan has remained silent until now. “Your Majesty, you may want to rethink declaring general amnesty. If you let Feng out, he may just stir up trouble. The Eastern Palace really does need people, and if the late emperor is still around, I wouldn’t be so worried, but the current master of the Eastern Palace is the future lord of the realm. Your Majesty …”

“The general amnesty has already been announced.” Li Yanqiu sighs. “A ruler does not go back on his word. You think you can take it back? As for Feng, Rong’er was the one who requested him specifically. I’m sure you’re well aware of the pros and cons of such an act. Feng was a commanding officer in the Shadow Guard for many years, and even though he committed a crime against my father that landed him on death row, he’s still as loyal to Great Chen as he ever was.”

Zheng Yan shakes his head and heaves a sigh.

“But you’re quite right. As of yet, there aren’t any retainers in the Eastern Palace, and that’s not right. It’s been more than half a year since Rong’er returned, but since he had Wuluohou Mu to look after him and there’s been so many trifles at court, it’s slipped my mind. Once we move we’ll have to take the time to do so.”

“Forgive my bluntness, but,” Zheng Yan drinks and says casually, “the current Eastern Palace always feels like it lacks something.”

"It lacks spirit. Rong’er has great potential, and sitting in that position, he knows what he’s supposed to do. When it comes to reading and annotating memorials on my behalf and reviewing matters of commoners’ welfare, he’s doing an exceedingly admirable job. But he hasn’t realised one thing yet — this is his family’s estate, and he hasn’t been letting himself work on it with a free rein.

“Or, in other words …” Li Yanqiu picks up his medicine bowl, his gaze fixed on his own features in the pitch black decoction as though another familiar face is watching him from the reflection. "He hasn’t started seeing himself as one of the Lis. When he’s settling matters of state and steering the imperial court, he’s still doing it to help me, and not doing it for himself.

“But showing his talent and appearing too sharp is not a good thing, after all.” Li Yanqiu knocks back his medicine in one gulp, so bitter it makes him frown. “Zheng Yan, help me get this done for him. The crown prince still needs attendants; a study partner, for instance. Just recruit them in the guise of looking for retainers.”

Footsteps echo through the corridor, sounding in quite a hurry.

“The crown prince would like to request an audience,” a guard in the outer room announces.

Li Yanqiu raises an eyebrow. Both he and Zheng Yan turn their attention towards the corridor. Cai Yan appears from around the corner with a big smile on his face.

Cai Yan gives him a bow first, and then another person appears behind him — who else but the travel-worn Lang Junxia.

“Wuluohou Mu?” Li Yanqiu says with a frown, “You left without a nary a farewell, and I haven’t even punished you for leaving your post without permission yet. Where on earth did you go?”

“Uncle.” Cai Yan walks over to him and sits down. “Take a look at what he’s brought with him first.”

Lang Junxia takes a glance at Zheng Yan. They’ve never met before, but the other’s reputation precedes him.

“Here you are,” Lang Junxia says.

Zheng Yan gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Here I am.”

Lang Junxia unties the sword from his back and lays it down on the table with both hands. The sword sheath is engraved with a relief of the Mahasthamaprapta riding on the back of a tiger as he cuts down demons; the sword handle is carved out of a giant clam shell, inlaid with a luminous, shimmery sarira.

“Fortunately, I did not fail my mission,” Lang Junxia replies before withdrawing from the room, and stands outside the door to await further orders.

Li Yanqiu puts one hand down on the hilt and pulls the sword out of its sheath, producing a low, resonant hum. The blade is plain and mottled with blood, and a name is carved into the metal: Duanchenyuan.

The morning is graced with brilliant sunshine and gentle breezes; farmers are busy taking in the autumn harvest on the mountain terraces across the way.

Standing outside their inn by the riverbank, Duan Ling yawns, stretches, and asks a server for a bucket to draw water with. After drawing some water he proceeds to boil it so he can make tea for Wu Du, and to change his bandages.

It’s the most peaceful night of sleep he’s had in a year, but Wu Du had tossed and turned the whole night through and didn’t fall asleep 'til dawn. Not long after he falls asleep, the commotion Duan Ling makes while boiling water has him going from half-dead to shocked sitting upright in an instant. Utterly exhausted, he puts a hand over his forehead, his mind racked with irritation.

“What time is it?” Once those words are out of his mouth he realises how wrong they sound — what kind of subject asks the crown prince the hour? He should have gotten up earlier to wait on him instead, but Duan Ling’s already boiling water, so what else can he do?

“It’s dawn. Are you alright? Not feeling well?”

Wu Du’s eyes are rimmed in red, and he stares at Duan Ling for a little while. “From now on, just leave me with the housework. Even if I don’t … don’t treat you like the crown prince, I should still be the one who takes care of you. That’s what I thought since the day we left Tongguan anyway. And besides, you barely even got to live comfortably for a few days since you’ve been with me …”

Duan Ling knows Wu Du has basically figured things out. “It’s not like any of that matters. If you didn’t know that Cai Yan is an imposter, and you’re his attendant on a trip, would you tell him that too?”

“Of course not. But you’re not like him.”

He poured a pile of words at Wu Du yesterday all in one go, and Duan Ling actually feels a bit embarrassed now that he’s thought about it. Smiling, he says, “Then if … the one Wuluohou Mu brought back was me, and we met under different circumstances, as people in different positions, would you feel that way too?”

Well, Wu Du has never thought about it, but now that Duan Ling’s mentioned it, his head feels even more like it’s been stuffed with a tangled ball of flax. If Duan Ling isn’t the Wang Shan he knows now, and they have to spend time alone with each other, knowing himself and his standoffish attitude, he definitely wouldn’t give his heart and soul to Duan Ling. At most he’d feel sorry for him, and go out of his way to pay more attention to him — of course, that’s under the pretext that the crown prince regards him with sincerity.

He does consider it for a little while, and after that Wu Du can but concede, “Fine,” he says. Finally at ease, he meets Duan Ling’s eyes, and they both smile.

“The whole night I was thinking about your problem," Wu Du says.

Duan Ling unties the bandages on Wu Du’s hand and reapplies the ointment. Without raising his head, he makes an affirmative hum.

“There is someone … I can take you to meet him. His name is Xie You, and as long as he’s certain that you are who you are, he’ll protect you even at the cost of his own life.”

“I know of him. He’s loyal to the rightful emperor, isn’t he? But the rightful emperor right now is my fourth uncle.”

Wu Du’s eyebrows draw slightly together, and he stops talking.

“As long as Uncle acknowledges me, Cai Yan won’t pose any threat at all.”

Wu Du nods. “There is one more thing. It’s still far too dangerous for you to show yourself. I’ve always had the suspicion that Chancellor Mu is going to do something about that imposter and His Majesty — the poison I was working on before? He never told me who he wanted it for. It may just be for the imposter.”

Duan Ling finishes re-bandaging Wu Du, and Wu Du tries to get down, so Duan Ling helps him put on his boots. Wu Du watches Duan Ling’s every move, and Duan Ling is waiting on him like it’s matter of course, then he puts one of Wu Du’s arms over his shoulder so he can support him as he walks outside.

The autumn sky is clear and bright, and the air is fresh and clean on the plains. Duan Ling washes his face, crouching by the river, and says to Wu Du, “Worse case scenario, Uncle doesn’t believe that I am who I am and locks me away. And we don’t have any evidence either … Then we’re totally done for.”

“That’s true.” Now that Wu Du thinks about it, that is extremely risky. Too much depends on luck.

“Best case scenario, Uncle does acknowledge my identity and kills both Wuluohou Mu and Cai Yan. But then what?”

Then what he’ll have to face is the violent power vortex within the imperial court — Mu Kuangda will very likely use every possible means to poison him to death. Of course, with Wu Du around, he doesn’t have to worry about anyone trying to poison him, but what is Mu Kuangda trying to accomplish anyway?

“And then,” Wu Du says solemnly to Duan Ling, “I’m going to tell you one thing. But you mustn’t let slip that you know about this in front of Mu Kuangda, otherwise some people are going to want the both of us dead … Aiya, but I suppose that doesn’t really matter.”

Duan Ling stares at him silently and a bit shocked.

“But if it really is exposed, they’ll come to kill you. Then all we can do is take a risk and try to fight our way out and poison the whole lot of them to death.”

“Um … Please tell me what it’s all about first.”

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

It’s called a general amnesty, which sounds like everyone under the heavens is given amnesty, but in reality it’s usually a couple dozen people, and it’s not complete amnesty. Maybe those sentenced to death would be exiled instead and so on; also, people who committed things like treason cannot be pardoned. ↩︎

In case you’re wondering, this is extremely rude. Actually, sitting with your back to the emperor is something you can lose your head over; I’m not sure what the punishment would be if you put your back to the crown prince. Cai Yan also never told him to sit down. Zheng Yan gets away with everything because he’s essentially Li Yanqiu’s only real friend. ↩︎

This isn’t a typo, Zheng Yan just be “I” and “you” at the emperor all the time like that. (He’s like this at Cai Yan too, most of the time.) ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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a-little-slice-of-fandom · 3 years

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I’d love to hear your thoughts on the Irish-ness of Dracula, if you wanna ramble about it!

(Okay I just want to apologise for how long this took to answer because I know it’s been sitting in my inbox for over a month but..depression and work happened and I just didn’t have the time or energy to complete it. I seriously do apologise for this but I hope you enjoy the post anyway!)

So the first thing I need to clear up is this: the concept of a monster or a demon that feeds upon the life force of humans is not limited to one singular culture or folklore. In fact, this core concept is a wider cultural phenomenon and variations of it exist across both countries and continents. And no one country can take sole credit for the this core concept of vampires. Anyone who tries to claim otherwise either doesn’t know much about vampires or is intentionally being disingenuous. There can be cultural variations that are specific to certain folklores (and to just blatantly steal these would be cultural appropriation), but the main idea of vampires exists across a wide range of folklores and no singular person, group of people or culture can take credit for the creation of vampires.

However, arguably it was the work of Bram Stoker that aided in the solidification of the concept of Vampires that we know today. While there were other authors from a wide range of nationalities who wrote about Vampires before Stoker (including John William Polidori who wrote the Vampyre in 1819)...Dracula is the best known. (Now I personally believe that’s because Dracula is an absolutely banging novel, although I do concede that the prevalence of adaptations of Dracula from the 1920’s to today helps keep Dracula in the forefront of audiences minds.) In addition, it’s important to remember that Stoker was inspired by another Irish author Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, who wrote the novel Carmilla. As far as I know, Le Fanu and Stoker actually worked together on a magazine!

Another thing I think that needs clarification is the common belief that Stoker heavily/religiously based Dracula on the historical figure Vlad the Impailer. This is heavily debated by scholars. While there’s an obvious, undeniable similarity between the names of these two...the similarities start to wain after this, with only small similarities between the two and there’s even literal contradictions between the history of Vlad the Impailer and Dracula’s history in the novel. In fact, there’s not much indication that Stoker based the character Dracula off Vlad the Impailer, or even that he had a working knowledge of Vlad the Impailer beyond the name. In all 124 pages of his notes, there’s nothing to indicate that Stoker’s inspiration for Dracula came from Vlad the Impailer.

(Plus Dracula in the novel wasn’t even originally called Dracula...he was called Count Wampyr in the original drafts of the novel and this was only changed, from what I can gather, in the last couple of drafts.)

In fact, I’d personally argue that that connection between Vlad the Impailer and Dracula is actually something that’s been retroactively added by other artists, for example the 1992 film “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” heavily leaned into this idea that Dracula and Vald the Impailer were one in the same, and as time has progressed people assume that these elements were in the original novel when that’s simply untrue! Stoker didn’t write that! It’s a retroactive addition by other artists that’s just assumed by the masses to be canon. This phenomenon is actually super interesting and it’s absolutely not limited to Stoker’s novel Dracula/the modern day perception of Dracula (another example would be Mary Shelley’s version of Frankenstein versus the modern day perception Frankenstein). I’m not sure if there’s a word for what this is, but I like the term “cultural canon”, where something that’s been added in by other artists has become as good as canon within the minds of the masses and as such is ingrained within the cultural perception of something, despite it having no basis within the original piece or even directly contradicting what is in canon.

(Now I’ll absolutely concede that Stoker taking the name of a historical figure and possibly their likeness from another country and making them into a literal monster is something that should be discussed. I don’t know how Vlad the Impailer is viewed within Romania - whether he’s viewed positively or negatively or a mixture - but regardless he was a historical figure and Stoker did eventually use that name for his own creative purposes. Again, Stoker didn’t say that Dracula and Vlad the Impailer were the same person, that’s other artists doing, but there’s still issues with Stoker that needs to be discussed)

Now, I’ve seen people talk about how Stoker took a lot of inspiration from the Baltic folklore surrounding vampires for his novel, but I don’t really know this folklore very well and therefore I don’t feel like I’m qualified to discuss it. If anyone is more well versed in this topic wants to add to this post then they’re more than welcome to! I don’t deny that Stoker too inspiration from places other than Ireland (like the novel is set in Whitby) but I just feel like people over hype the relation between stokers Dracula and Vlad the Impailer.

Now, onto the Irish mythology side!

So the most obvious inspiration for Dracula comes from the story of Abhartach. here is a link to an actual, respectable retelling of the story of Abhartach which I’d highly recommend people read (it’s really not that long) but the key points go as follows:

There was this Irish chieftain called Abhartach, who was really cruel and the townsfolk didn’t really like him. So, the townsfolk and another cheiftain (known as Cathain) banded together to kill Abhartach. They did succeed in killing him (yay), however, Abhartach just sort of...rose from the dead and began another reign of terror (not yay). However, Abhartach needed to be sustained by blood and required a bowlful every day to sustain his energy. Cathain comes back and kills Abhartach once again, but Abhartach rises from the dead once more and now needs more blood. Abhartach is only banished when Cathain uses a word made from yew wood and wounds Abhartach with it. Abhartach is buried upside down with a grant stone over the grave to stop Abhartach rising once again.

Sound familiar? The similarities between Abhartach and Dracula are undeniable! Yes, there’s some differences between the two but the core story here is almost identical. I could totally reword that paragraph, omitting the names, and it would be indistinguishable from a short summary of Dracula! Even the way that the main characters find out about the wooden weapon that can kill the monster is similar, as both Jonathan and Cathain go to wiser and older members of their community to learn more.

(Also please mythology blogs don’t come for me I know my retelling was an incredible oversimplification but I’m writing on my iPad and my thumbs are starting to hurt. People have wrote full papers on the similarities between Dracula and Abhartach and there’s so many more people more qualified than me, I’m just an 18 year old trying to make a fun and interesting tumblr post. Again, if anyone wants add anything like extra sources or more information or even to point out my mistakes then I more than welcome the additions)

Another piece of folklore that’s also said to have inspired Dracula is the Dearg Due. Now there’s multiple different versions of the tale, but the version I have heard goes like this:

There’s a noble woman who wants to marry a penniless peasant boy, but her dad disapproves and wants her to marry another man who is much richer. The rich man and the noble woman were eventually married but the woman didn’t love the rich man. In retaliation, the rich man locked the woman in a windowless castle where she starved to death. The woman was buried by the locals who took pity on her, but because she was buried hungry she came back to life and drank the blood of her father and her husband as revenge. The version I heard says that the dearg due now basically wanders ireland drinking the blood of men who have hurt or wronged women (as one should) but there’s other endings to the story.

(Again is anyone has a reliable source they want to share then please feel free to add!)

So this is another Irish piece of folklore that clearly includes some elements that we now associate with vampires. Now people (including Wikipedia) claim that this story was specifically what Stoker based Dracula on, and while I definitely think that Stoker was aware of this story and took inspiration from it, I personally think that the Dearg Due inspired the concept of Dracula’s wives more than Dracula himself.

However the key point still stands: Stoker was likely aware of these legends and even the most staunchly anti-Irish person would have to concede that there’s similarities between all three stories. And very rarely are these similarities discussed in classes about Dracula...which I feel is a real disservice. I don’t think students should have to have an intense knowledge of Irish mythology (my knowledge is spotty at best) nor do I think it should be an exam question...but even a brief acknowledgment of “hey, Stoker was inspired by these stories and you can clearly see similarities between them” would be nice. Moreover, it further solidifies my original argument that Stoker was, at least to some extent, Irish and that his Irishness inherently influenced his work.

Also...the social context of what was going on in Ireland in this period can’t be ignored! Again, while Stoker did spend time in both England and Romania, he spent a lot of his life in Ireland and therefore would have known what was going on in his own country.

Dracula was published in 1897, which is exactly 50 years after the worst year of the Irish Famine/ The Great Hunger/An Gorta Mór. Now I don’t have time to do a whole history of the Great Hunger but the effects of the famine were greatly exacerbated by the horrific mismanagement of Ireland by the British government and the British system of ruling in Ireland. How many people died during the famine isn’t clear, but we do know that the population of Ireland at the time was 8 million and the population today is 6 million...200 years later and we still haven’t recovered. So while we all like to joke about the fact that Stoker wrote about an unfeeling member of the aristocracy literally feeding off others with no remorse and basically ruining their lives...are we really going to pretend that there isn’t social commentary there? Scholars specifically think that Stoker was commenting on the absentee landlords (basically British aristocrats who owned land in Ireland but didn’t live there and as such didn’t care about the well being of their tenants) who would often have tenants forced off the land when they couldn’t pay rent...despite the fact that their tenenants were already starving and had no money because their only source of food and income failed.

(I’m not being shady by the way, I also love to joke about the social implications of Dracula, but I feel like people forget that the jokes have actual points behind them)

There was also a cholera epidemic in Ireland in 1832 which is generally accepted to be one of Stoker’s biggest inspirations. You can read more about the epidemic here if you wish, but I’ll summarise what I feel are the key points. Not only was Stoker’s mother from county Sligo and lived through this cholera epidemic, but Stoker also asked her to write down her memories of the epidemic and used her accounts to aid in his research of the cholera epidemic. Now the fact that he was actively researching this should indicate that it would influence his work, especially considering the situation in county Sligo was incredibly morbid. There’s accounts of the 20 carpenters in Sligo town being unable to make enough coffins to keep up with the amount of people dying, resulting in hundreds of dead bodies just lying on the street. However, the most horrific account from this epidemic was the stories of terrified nurses placing cholera patients into mass graves while they were still alive. Stoker himself literally stated that Dracula was “inspired by the idea of someone being buried before they were fully dead”. So while at first there seems to be very little relation between the novel and a medical epidemic, it quickly becomes clear that Stoker’s fascination with this historical event influenced his writing.

My overall point is that Stoker’s irishness inherently influenced his writing. Writers don’t write in their own little bubble, divorced from the world around them, their views and work are shaped by their position in society and their upbringing (it’s why I dislike death of the author as a literary theory). So when people try to claim that Dracula is a piece of British literature...it indicates either a lack of understanding of the context in which Stoker was writing in or a wilful ignorance founded on colonialist ideas. His influences are so obvious to me as an Irish woman but they rarely get discussed, and even if they are it’s seen as overreaching! To call Dracula British literature and to ignore the inherent Irishness of the novel does a great disservice to Stoker!

Anyways I really hope you enjoyed this discussion my love! Once again I apologise for how long this took to write. Also I’m sorry if this comes off as argumentative or anything, that absolutely wasn’t my intention, I just have a particular style of writing long posts haha.

#dracula #bram stoker #irish literature #british literature #bram stoker’s dracula #gothic #gothic literature #ask #ask answered #anon ask #anonymous ask #anon #anonymous #being irish is my only personality trait

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derivativealigner · 3 years

Text

Well I haven’t watched sp all the way through for about a decade now, so I thought it was time

Sometimes I wonder how accurate the fandom is when it comes to how we interpret the characters. Like, why is Stan a football star so often in fanfic and why’s Kyle always the smart one? So I thought I’d rewatch the show and make notes along the way to see where the source of all these interpretations is. I also wanted to see if I could get some fun info to analyze, but season 1 is pretty sparse in that regard so there’s not too much of that in this post, but I’ll make a post for all the other seasons too as I watch them

In summary, it’s established in season 1 already that Stan’s a star quarterback and an animal lover, Kyle’s an A+ student, and Kenny is poor and knows a lot about sex and doesn’t have many qualms about doing crazy shit. Cartman is a bit weird since he’s mostly just a naive brat in this season, but he and Kyle have a mildly antagonistic friendship already

I have all my notes under this cut. They include a bunch of small details and other observations. I also listed every Kenny death just because

Ike has freckles

Cartman says “Weak!” and “You guys” and “Seriously” a lot from the start, also “Kickass!” He doesn’t say weak or kickass much in the later seasons iirc

Stan says “Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here” three times in this season but they dropped that catchphrase pretty quickly

Bebe got named in episode 2

Stan’s been an animal lover since s01e03 Volcano since he won’t shoot a bunny or anything else. He does shoot Scuzzlebutt at the end though

Cartman’s a pathological liar but in a childish way

Randy got named in s01e03 Volcano (and it only got worse from there)

The mayor went to Princeton

South Park is next to Mt. Evanson

Kenny will literally drink gasoline

Stan’s a star quarterback in 3rd grade

Clyde’s voice is wrong as hell in S01E04 Big Gay Al’s Big Gay Boat Ride and he has a dog, Rex

Garrison says Kyle is an A+ kid

Shelly seriously abuses Stan, punching him, throwing him, maiming him with a lawnmower

Cartman had a pot-bellied pig called Fluffy

Cartman’s mom smokes crack and has sex with strange men

Dr. Mephesto is probably a Buddhist since he says “Thank Buddha” instead of “Thank God”

Clyde’s voice gets kind of fixed in S01E06

A guy called Mr. McCormick is killed in a protest, launched and splattered against a network building. He doesn’t look like Kenny’s dad though

Zombie Clyde attacks Bebe, rude

Wendy gave her costume contest prize (2 tons of candy) to hungry children in Nairobi

Cartman’s mom is on the cover of Crack Whore magazine. “Back do’ ho… Five on one action!” is the headline

Cartman genuinely cries at Kenny’s grave after the whole zombie thing but gets over it because of candy

Stan knows his mom’s credit card number and has no problem using it to adopt an Ethiopian child (the boys wanted a watch that came with the adoption, they weren’t doing it to be nice)

Cartman calls Stan a vas deference, Stan doesn’t know what that is so Kenny says “Dude, it’s a pipe for your peepee” (according to a transcript). Kenny sure knows male anatomy

Kyle sniffs Kenny after Cartman asks why poor people smell like sour milk and Garrison says “idk eric they just do”

Cartman thinks poor people should die and decrease the surplus population

When the boys get Starvin’ Marvin delivered to them, Cartman says “Hey mom, we found an Ethiopian, can we keep him?” and his mom says “Sure, hun.” She rarely says no to Cartman

Kenny’s dad is an alcoholic who drinks scotch according to Cartman. I mean, Mr. McCormick is seen drinking in multiple episodes and has a hat that says SCOTCH so it’s probably true

Kenny’s family says grace

Craig’s first appearance is S01E09. Also, S01E09 is the first time Kenny doesn’t die (Coincidence? I THINK yeah but it’s still fun)

Clyde got named in S01E10

Clyde and Bebe both spit on Pip’s face, friendship goals <3

Cartman and Kyle have their first fight at Cartman’s birthday party because Kyle didn’t give the right gift. Cartman slaps his face and screams “I hate you! I want you to die! Die!” while on top of Kyle who’s not really fighting back

Satan throws a fight with Jesus after everyone except Satan bet that Jesus would lose, which leads to Satan winning everyone’s money. Mr. Garrison says “What a mean thing to do!” and Jimbo says “He is a jerk!” and I thought it was quite a laugh so I wrote it down

In S01E11 Tom’s Rhinoplasty Bebe and Wendy are sitting in the swings together and generally appear together throughout the episode, then Bebe gives Wendy a makeover so they’re bffs obviously <3

Craig first appears in the classroom, though not sitting down, in S01E11

Wendy’s not happy about Ms. Ellen taking Stan away from her, she says “Don’t fuck with me! Stay away from my man, bitch, or I’ll whoop your sorry ho ass back to last year!”

Kenny gives Ms. Ellen a scrumptious looking sausage as a valentine’s gift and giggles deviously. Wendy’s gift to Ms. Ellen is a dead animal

Even Kenny doesn’t know what a lesbian is

Wendy’s grandma died in S01E11

Wendy gets Ms. Ellen killed by hiring the Iraqi government (?) to put her in a rocket and shoot it into the sun, then she and Bebe have a pool party (very cool, they wear sunglasses 😎) and watch the rocket hit the sun

Cartman and Pip play a game of kicking each other in the nuts until someone falls. Cartman calls it “Roshambo”

Kenny has a sack of marbles

The boys aren’t fans of Barbra Streisand, but Stan is a fan of the Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway (he’s not a quarterback anymore, he’s an American football executive and the president of football operations for the Denver Broncos of the NFL according to wikipedia.)

Officer Barbrady is a fan of Fiona Apple (who was 20 at the time and had only one album released called Tidal)

Ned knows how to pilot a helicopter

Kyle’s mom is a fan of Streisand unlike literally everyone else, she even gets an autograph from Mecha Streisand

The boys are fans of Robert Smith, the lead singer of The Cure. Stan says “Robert Smith is the greatest person that ever lived!” and Kyle says “Disintegration is the best album ever!” and Cartman says “Robert Smith kicks ass!” and Kenny’s dead so he doesn’t get to have an opinion

Cartman has tea parties with his toys: Polly Prissypants, Clyde frog, Peter Panda, and a dragon called Rumpertumskin

Kyle wants to make fun of Cartman for the tea party but Stan stops him because he’s concerned that Cartman needs help

Craig is in front of the school counselor’s office in S01E13

A young miss Cartman drinks like a motherfucker at the 12th annual drunken barn dance where Cartman was supposedly conceived

Stan lets Cartman borrow his bike like a good friend

Garrison wanted to have a threesome with Chef and Cartman’s mom. I don’t know why I’m making a note of this but uh… yeah.

Cartman’s mom has had sex with everyone at this bar that Garrison’s drinking at, including principle Victoria, the mayor, Father Maxi, and Jesus (and maybe Kenny’s dad since he’s at the bar but the camera doesn’t pan to him when Garrison says they’ve all slept with Liane). Later Gerald Broflovski is a possible father to Eric, so he fucked her too. Also Mr. Mephesto and his friend Kevin, that little guy, are candidates along with a lot of other people, including the 1989 Denver Broncos (and Mr. Tenorman is included in that later)

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kyle for being Jewish much at all in this season even though the Christmas episode is all about Kyle not celebrating

Clyde and Token appear very early on and Clyde has always been in the classroom (along with Bebe, Red, Kevin Stoley, Wendy, and Pip and uhh DogPoo too I think). Craig appears later in the season and Tweek’s not in season 1 at all, so Craig’s gang isn’t really a thing yet

And here’s a list of the ways Kenny died in this season. He dies in every episode except episode 9, and he dies twice in episodes 2 and 3. Altogether he dies 14 times

S01E01 Killed after alien shoots him, cows stampede over him, then cop runs him over which finally actually kills him

S01E02 Killed in a play by a falling teepee, then a second time shot by Garrison which sends him in the air and he gets impaled on a flagpole on the way down

S01E03 Killed by a volcano rock that burns him then rolls on him but he’s alive again in the end but gets shot by Ned’s gun that he drops and it accidentally goes off

S01E04 Gets his arms and head torn off in an American football game

S01E05 Stan’s clone punches Kenny into a microwave where he gets cooked alive

S01E06 Death touches Kenny

S01E07 Kenny gets crushed by a Russian space station and turns into a zombie because he gets Worcestershire sauce in his veins, then Kyle chainsaws zombie Kenny in half, then zombie Kenny rises from his grave and is crushed by a statue and a plane

S01E08 Kenny is killed by a bunch of turkeys. His eye gets plucked out. It’s dark blue

S01E10 After Kenny gets turned into a duck-billed platypus, Jimbo and Ned shoot him

S01E11 Ms. Ellen throws a sword through Kenny’s face

S01E12 While Mecha Streisand and a giant robot Leonard Maltin fight, Kenny plays with a tetherball and gets the rope wrapped around his neck and it strangles him

S01E13 Kenny gets stuck on a go kart and it drags him around but stops and he’s still alive! Too bad the go kart stops on train tracks and a train runs him over. Stan’s grandpa sends a video of the event to America’s Stupidest Home Videos and wins $10,000

If you read all that, first of all hello. I’m not new to the fandom even though this is the first thing I’ve posted on this tumblr blog. I’ve been writing a fanfic called Caffetamine though so I’m not a complete non-entity. Anyway, I’ll watch season 2 soon and post my notes on that too probably.

#south park #sp rewatch #i made way too many notes #kenny used to get dialog in almost every episode #poor kenny #he really gets shafted later

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julie1706 · 4 years

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Julie’s incredibly aesthetic incredibly autumny list of movies that she maybe recommends (part 2)

Oh sweet joy! It turns out that there are many more great, fantastic, cosy movies (and tv-series!) just absolutely perfect for autumn. By popular demand, I return with even MORE autumny recommendations, and this time, there might even be spell-checking. (Looking at you, “Silence of the Lamps”) (I won’t edit that, because that’s just funny.)

Thank you for reading the previous one, and I hope you’ll enjoy this one too! We have some GREAT ones coming up. I hope! Maybe! But what I believe will really perfect this second list, is the fact, that autumn is close to being at its peak right now, with it being October! Woohoo!

Pumpkins, Jack’o’lanterns, spooky movies, Halloween, tricks and treats, fog, rain, candles lit in the dark, delicious tea, and scarves, because the chill is back in the air! Amazing! The aesthetics are to die for!

I’m on a small break from university, and have actually been having some allowed free time, to do autumny stuff. By this I mean I can do autumny stuff with my family and friends, and not feel guilty, because this time I’m not procrastinating. Well, I’m a little behind on some books, but it’s not that bad. You’re allowed free time on breaks! They’re supposed to be mostly free time, anyone knows that. I refuse to be a good student on breaks!

This free time means that I have actually had time to watch some of these movies and tv-shows myself, and so I can feel a little better about recommending most of them, since I’ve actually seen them. Hehe. Still. I do have other, boring stuff to do, like reading for uni, emptying the dishwasher, cooking, vacuuming, etc., so there will be some of these I’m including, I have not watched, and those will be, again, backed by the power of optimism. Yay! Anyway! You’ve read enough not-halloween recommendationing, and is getting bored - Let’s get to it! (Also, these are still in random order, and I will put warnings at the end, again <3)

Coraline

I remember watching Coraline when it came out in theaters, years ago. I also remember that we had a little closet-thing in the wall, small and closed-up, but still very similar to the one she goes into, in the movie. Needless to say, this was not a favorite for little Julie, who was absolutely scared shit-less by this movie. I remember button-eyes, decaying puppets, and a very scary mom. Now, I have not watched the full movie since, but from bits and pieces through the years, I can wholeheartedly recommend this one. It’s stop-motion, the details are incredible, and wow, this movie is great. If you, like me, are no longer 9 years old, watch it! It’s wonderful, and surprisingly, very feel-good in the family aspect. A great movie!

Official synopsis:

An adventurous 11-year-old girl finds another world that is a strangely idealized version of her frustrating home, but it has sinister secrets.

//Warning: do not watch this, if you are around nine years old. It will absolutely traumatize you about small closets in old houses. If you are not nine years old, I think you’re good! Just the right amount of spookyness, I believe!

Sense and Sensibility

I watched this with a good friend in february, I think. So I’m not sure why I think this has to go on an autumny list, but I stand by it! Maybe it’s the beige and brown, beautiful clothing, the many shots of nature, and the relationships between these characters, that fits very well with the cold and chilling air, we find ourselves in, here in lovely October. I don’t know. Food for thought. But this is a great movie, and I really think you should try watching it under a blanket, with tea and a good friend. We didn’t know the story before we saw it, and it had us guessing! And there is a part my other friend Sif told me, always makes her dad cry, and I think that should be taken as a compliment to this movie! It’s great! Love, sisters, crisis and period drama (and great clothes), this movie has it all! (also - Emma Thompson!)

Official synopsis:

Rich Mr. Dashwood dies, leaving his second wife and her three daughters poor by the rules of inheritance. The two eldest daughters are the title opposites.

//Warning: It might make you cry. But I promise, it will be a good experience, in the end. It’s not scary, though.

Over the Garden Wall (animated series)

Well, this one, I’ve been dreading to add to my list. Now, you must not misunderstand, it’s not because I don’t like it. It’s because this series is so great, so weird, so beautifully drawn and made, that I’m afraid I could write a whole blog post dedicated only to Otgw, and still not feel that I have done it justice. It's just so good. It’s like the someone just decided one day, to make a series, that absolutely, perfectly encompasses autumn and halloween, and then did just that. The storyline is good, the art is good, the soundtrack is good. God, the soundtrack. I’ve also made sure to listen to this show’s soundtrack, since we left summer behind, and it’s just so good. There’s a reason tumblr went wild, when this show was first released. But since this is an AUTUMNY list, let me focus on those aspects. Big dark woods, scary noises in the dark, red and golden leaves, fantastical beings - this show has it all, and trust me, it WILL get you in the mood for autumn. I almost started puking leaves and pumpkins when I watched this with my friends, that’s how pumped it got me. This show has a special place in my heart, and if you promise not to tell all the other movies and shows on the list, I’ll admit something: this might be a favorite of mine. Maybe THE autumny favorite.

Official synopsis:

Two brothers find themselves lost in a mysterious land and try to find their way home.

Warning: May be a little spooky, but I have it on good authority from a friend that is a true scaredy-cat, with nerves of whipped cream, that’s it’s fine. She could handle it, watches it every year, and she’s fine. Good levels of scary.

Corpse Bride

Believe it or not, that same scaredy-cat of a friend, I just mentioned, actually instructed a musical, based on this story. Is she a horror-fan or not? I have no idea, but her show was so well-done, that it actually made me like this movie a bit better. I have seen it before, but she convinced me, by telling me the original story behind this movie, that it’s pretty great. And by association, this movie became pretty great, too. It’s been some years since I saw this, but it’s a pretty good halloween movie, I think. Dead people tormenting the living. Classic autumn stuff, I would say. And it’s pretty well-made, I think, stop-motion again! I like the aesthetic of a corpse bride, though you have to admit the actual thing is pretty sad. The premise is haunting and scary, but it’s more morose, melancholic and depressing, I think. Poor Emily. But a good movie! Sorry, maybe that wasn’t a very enticing description, but I promise, it will do you more good than bad, to watch it. And then go google the original story, the movie is based on!

Official synopsis:

When a shy groom practices his wedding vows in the inadvertent presence of a deceased young woman, she rises from the grave assuming he has married her.

//Oops, nearly forgot a warning! Warning: some people are dead, and therefore rotting a bit. If you’re squeamish, don’t watch. If you love sad love stories, definitely watch!

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

Yeah, I’m not sure why this has to go on my Autumny List either, sorry. It just has to. I know it takes place over an entire year, but in my head, it jut fits very well with the whole magic, supernatural, foggy halloween times we find ourselves in. I mean, look at the cover! Maybe it’s the iconic scene, right before the troll is discovered in the girls’ bathroom (sorry, spoiler), with the floating jack’o’lanterns, and tables almost crashing undet the weight of candy and cakes, that convinced my brain, that this is a halloween movie. I don’t know. Just trust me on this, and watch the first Harry Potter movie. It’s pretty good.

Official synopsis:

An orphaned boy enrolls in a school of wizardry, where he learns the truth about himself, his family and the terrible evil that haunts the magical world.

//Warning: Nah, you’re good ;-)

Little Women (Important: 2019 edition)

Alright girls, we’re hopping genres again! This is another period-drama (sort of), about sisters, and wow, I cried to this. I bawled, I sobbed, I choked on snot, and was a little inconsolable, when I watched it with friends, at the cinema. One of the best experiences this year, and one of the greatest movies I have watched in a long time. I love everything about this movie: the family-bonds, the clothing, the many nature-shots, the developments of characters, (almost) all the characters, and just, wow. No good way to end that sentence, because I want to just keep describing all the good parts of this movie, because it's everything. It’s amazing, and yes, i’m exaggerating, but I can’t help it. I forgot to eat my popcorn or drink my water, when we watched this, that’s how mesmerized I was by this movie. I love Jo, I think I can empathize a lot with her, and if I could talk to her, if she was real, I would thank her for telling her story. This movie is great, you should watch it, because it makes you feel so warm inside.

Official synopsis:

Jo March reflects back and forth on her life, telling the beloved story of the March sisters - four young women, each determined to live life on her own terms.

//Warning: Might make you break down crying. But in a good way. Very cathartic, actually.

Alien

I watched this for the first time last year, when I decided I was going to watch the classic older horror movies, and not freak the fuck out. I mostly succeed. And this movie was a joy to watch. That’s maybe weird to say about an alien horror movie, but wow I just love Sigourney Weaver, and the aesthetics of this movie. The story is thrilling, and I really did not like most of the characters, I thought they were hysteric and annoying, but I still rooted for them. It’s a different kind of horror movie, that’s for sure! But when I watched it, I totally understood why it has become such a classic.

Official synopsis:

After a space merchant vessel receives an unknown transmission as a distress call, one of the crew is attacked by a mysterious life form and they soon realize that its life cycle has merely begun.

//Warning: Uh, yeah, Sif, this is not one for you. It’s gross and scary. Malin, I think you’ll like this one! Go ahead! Maybe we should see it together?

Edward Scissorhands

Haven’t seen this one! I want to, though. I think I’ve seen one scene, where this man accidentally pokes a water-bed, and younger me felt that was a very tragic thing, on more levels. Johnny Depp yet again, so it has to be good, right? I know this poor guy, Edward, has it rough, and was given some really not that practical hands. Man, he looks sad, huh? So maybe more sad than scary, yet again. Dont know! But I really do want to watch it. Winona Ryder is in this, too, so really, it’s a no-brainer!

Official synopsis:

An artificial man, who was incompletely constructed and has scissors for hands, leads a solitary life. Then one day, a suburban lady meets him and introduces him to her world.

//Warning: I don’t know? Maybe not that spooky? I think it’s more sad, to be honest.

Pride + Prejudice + Zombies

I mean, why the hell not - right? I love Jane Austen. I love Pride and Prejudice. And I really like halloween, so OF COURSE, I’m including this one. I’ve seen it, too. My friend Malin and I watched it a couple of years ago, and yeah, it’s good. It’s not high cinema, no, but I don’t need that. It was a fun, weird twist, and sometimes, that’s all you need. There is a very interesting scene with a corset, that was NOT in the book, and I think it really added something to this story. And Lily James. Whew. Great movie. Great for autumn. I will be watching this one again.

Official synopsis:

Five sisters in 19th century England must cope with the pressures to marry while protecting themselves from a growing population of zombies.

//Warning: I can’t really remember, but I think there’s some pretty gross scenes with zombies. Rotting flesh is NOT pretty. But just close your eyes for that, and you’ll be good!

The Haunting of Hill House

I first watched this series when i came out some time ago. I never finished it, I don’t think my heart was in it, but by no fault of the show. Now, that the same creator has made another show, which my mom and I are hooked by, and almost through, I think I’ll be returning to this one - it deserves another chance! A great old house, ghosts, family secrets and INCREDIBLE aesthetics, mean there must be something here! Also, I think it’s based on a novel by Shirley Jackson, and it’s supposed to a classic horror novel, and Stephen King tweeted that he liked it, so yeah, it’s promising! The series I’m watching with my mom is spooky, but tumblr says the Haunting of Hill House is supposed to be much more spooky, terrifying, even, and I really want to find out if that’s true!

Official synopsis:

Flashing between past and present, a fractured family confronts haunting memories of their old home and the terrifying events that drove them from it.

//Warning: Very Scary! Faint of heart - Beware! Just enjoy this beautiful gif of Nell dancing by herself, and move on <3

Psycho

Another old classic! Woo! Have not watched, but really, I feel like that’s almost a crime by now. I HAVE to watch it. Soon, I’m planning to. Sadly, It’s old, and I grew up with the internet, so I’ve been spoiled oh so dreadfully, and knows all the bloody details and plottwists of this oldie but goldie. But I still want to watch it! It must be a classic for a reason - right? Also, I’ve never seen the full version of the famous shower scene, and that’s just embarrassing. Shame on me.

Official synopsis:

A Phoenix secretary embezzles $40,000 from her employer's client, goes on the run, and checks into a remote motel run by a young man under the domination of his mother.

//Warning: It’s a horror classic! It’s gotta be scary. Then again, it DID come out in 1960. Be careful about this one! Sorry, I have no idea, have never watched it.

Hannibal (the TV series)

It’s gross, it’s scary, it’s aesthetic, there is a danish elegant man eating people in snowy Baltimore, and you really shouldn’t pay him to be your psychiatrist. Hannibal! I first watched this as a young, edgy teenager, and all the blood and gore didn't get to me at all - I just enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game between Will Graham, our main character, very mentally unstable, and a dog-lover, and Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a renowned psychiatrist, elegant, high-society - and also, he talks like a mixture of the bible and an old greek sonet. What I'm trying to get at is that this show is weird. Good weird. But also, now no longer an edgy teenager myself, it’s really gross. A man’s leg is cut off and served to himself. That’s gross. I didn’t like that, and I definitely covered my eyes. Other than that, it’s a very vivid show, with great focus on presentation and symbolism. I would love for someone to analyse each episode, because there's so much attention to detail. It’s honestly impressive. And after having watched many, many shows about crime and murders, I must say, this show has THE most buckwild, creative, never seen before ways of killing people. How the hell do you come up with a murderer using people’s different skin colors to make a mural? I don’t know. It’s disgusting, but man is it different. I’m halfway through season two, and there is a lot to unpack! Also, have to mention, very homoerotic - that’s a plus. Don’t think I could’ve stomached all the blood, otherwise. I hate blood, and wow is there blood in this show.

Official synopsis:

Explores the early relationship between renowned psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter, and his patient, a young FBI criminal profiler, who is haunted by his ability to empathize with serial killers.

//Warning: Yeah. You read how many times I wrote ‘gross’. Just trust me on this one, it’s gross. It’s good, but maybe don’t watch it. You don’t need to introduce your brain to this.

The Haunting of Bly Manor

Ooh boy. Ooooh boy. This series is very good. VERY good. I’m watching it with my mom right now, I think we’re at episode 7, and wow are we hooked. It’s spooky, it’s haunting, it’s thrilling, it’s mysterious, and wow is it scary. We both agreed to go together, the first night we watched this, and our dog had to be taken out on his night-walk. She didn’t want to go alone, and i didn’t want to stay back at the house, alone. So we went together, and I was so freaked out that I nearly peed my pants, when some kids screamed in our neighborhood. It’s so very much what I want a ghost-story to be, but it’s also a lot more, and much greater for it. I love all the characters, they’re all so well-rounded, and most of them are good. The big manor is spooky, and the woods surrounding it are foggy and dark, and yes, this is really a great series for autumn and halloween. It’s the second series made by Mike Flanagan. There are some similarities between the two shows, and surprisingly, some of the same actors! I think that’s very interesting, and it also made me very confused, as I watched the first episodes of the Haunting of Bly Manor, and could not, for the life of me, figure out where the hell I had seen these people before. It made it even more eerie in a way, and I appreciate that. I love this show, and I think I’ll be very sad when we’re through with it. I guess the natural thing to do, will be to follow up with Flanagan’s previous horror series, The Haunting of Hill House! Also, there’s lesbians in this one. Very nice. I appreciate that. Also, surprisingly - I love the children! They’re so cool and brave, and it would be very nice if especially Flora could go with me, the next time I’m going to a haunted house. Such a badass.

Official synopsis:

After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose.

Warning: It’s spooky. It’s the perfect halloween series, so of course it’s very spooky! This gif I chose is spooky, and I promise the show itself is worse. But if you can handle dead people creepily staring in the background, and maybe has someone to watch it with, I think you’ll be fine!

Alright! We made it! Another spooky, aesthetic, autumny list, for us to enjoy this crispy season! Woohoo! Also, I’m sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes or whatelse, I hope you enjoyed reading anyway! Thank you! Now go drink some tea and relax, you’ve earned it. I recently tried chili-tea, and damn, that’s another recommendation from me! It was amazing!

Hope you have a great Halloween, it’s close now. Watch out for the cold weather, remember to bundle up, and don’t let the impending darkness get you down. Light some candles! And also, watch some of these spooky tv-series and movies with your family and friends! And have a great fall! <3

Love, Julie

91 notes · View notes

rachaellikesyaoi · 2 years

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I posted 8,839 times in 2021

20 posts created (0%)

8819 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 440.9 posts.

I added 4,161 tags in 2021

#dean winchester - 657 posts

#castiel - 625 posts

#make me laugh - 606 posts

#destiel - 592 posts

#spn - 550 posts

#julia - 292 posts

#supernatural - 290 posts

#barry - 203 posts

#deancas - 178 posts

#sam winchester - 168 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#there are so many pieces in the finale that just dont make any sense. it fundamentally breaks and pulls and references so many things

My Top Posts in 2021

I can't wait for 20 years from now when they reboot supernatural and we all rise up from the grave like those shitty zombies at the end of s14/start of s15. It'll be great.

1 notes • Posted 2021-02-28 12:48:10 GMT

I just want to fucking scream

1 notes • Posted 2021-06-18 11:06:04 GMT

spn asks: 8, 9, 11, 14, 27

Oh my god!!! Yay! Thank you for the ask!!!

8. Favorite Cas?

Endverse!Cas. Love my little Stoner dude who fell from grace and would follow Dean to the end of the world. I've literally been reading 'Down to Agincourt' by seperis and I'm almost on book four. Which is dedication, because it's beautifully written and lacking any smut. That's how much I love Endvers!Cas.

9. Favorite Dean?

Demon!Dean. How could you not love him? Sure, he's a 'bad guy,' but so is Billie Eilish and I'd follow both of them into hell with a smile.

11. Which episode do you wish we had gotten?

I honestly think it's a tie between Human!Impala, and a body swap episode. I would have loved to see Baby as some hot stud and Dean being all flustered when Baby inevitably asks why Dean is calling him 'the car' or 'impala' instead of their given name which is Baby. BUT I would have also loved to see Cas and Dean switch bodies and see Jensen and Misha acting like the other's characters. It would have been great.

14. If there was a reverse French Mistake, who would cope the best?

I think Jensen would, because he's essentially Dean Winchester, but more adjusted. I'm sure if given some time to train, then he'd fit into the position well.

27. Which would you rather have addressed in canon: Cas killing countless copes of Dean or Dean's grief each time Cas died?

I think I'd want his grief addressed, because unlike with other deaths of Dean's loved ones, I feel like Cas' deaths never got the same treatment? I dunno. I'm probably wrong, but I feel like when John, Mary, Bobby, or anyone else got a more fleshed out grieving Dean than anytime Cas passed. But maybe that was the point? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Thank you for the ask! I don't think I've ever done one before!

2 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 15:15:00 GMT

Need New Blogs to Follow

I haven’t done this in years, but I’m looking for active blogs to follow for all of my fandom needs. If you post any of these fandoms, please reblog or like this post and I will check out your page and probably follow!

Supernatural

Doctor Who

Umbrella Academy

Marvel

Star Trek

Yu Yu Hakusho

Lovecraft Country

Disney

Stardew Valley

Animal Crossing

Kingdom Hearts

Good Omens

The Boys

Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Persona

Spider-Man (Anything)

Sherlock

Miss Kobiyahsi’s Dragon Maid

Fruits Basket

Cowboy Bebop

Yuri on Ice

11 notes • Posted 2021-06-15 14:43:40 GMT

I was today years old when I learned that Sean Gunn, James Gunn brother and the actor who plays Kraglin in the MCU, also does the motion capture for Rocket.

He also did the mod-capping for the Weasel in the new the Suicide Squad movie.

Huh.

22 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 14:25:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i am not even surprised #make me laugh #tumblr life

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lady-of-the-lotus · 3 years

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Fractured Ice - Ch. 5/7

Xue Yang whisks a nihilistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right? AU where Wei Wuxian never came to Yi City and Xue Yang is still running around post-canon disguised as Xiao Xingchen.

Lan Xichen in an agony of suspense, hands shaking as he pulls Liebing from his qiankun pouch and puts it to his lips.

Xue Yang bites his finger and traces symbols on the sarcophagus in blood, breaking the seals.

Lan Xichen holds his breath.

Nothing happens.

XueXiao & XiYao - Rated M - Read on AO3! Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 6

Ch. 5: damn right, you should be scared of me

Lan Xichen feels dull and heavy as they pass through the gates of the Unclean Realm.

“We were not expecting Zewu-jun!” babbles the Nie chamberlain as they arrive. “Please excuse the lack of reception; we received no notice of the Clan Leader’s arrival—”

Lan Xichen glances at him dispassionately, then dredges up a small smile and ducks his head at the chamberlain, almost overbalancing and falling forward thanks to the weight of his forehead ribbon.

A-Yao never would have been unprepared like this when he served in the same role. Never would have shown it, at the very least. Would have made the guests feel welcome, his quick mind adjusting to the new circumstances with alacrity and grace—

“My name is Xiao Xingchen,” says Xue Yang. He puts his hands together and bows deeply at the chamberlain. He’s fully back in his Xiao Xingchen role, all gentle refinement and forceful softness and slight _ otherness _, as if he’d learned social graces somewhere outside of normal society. “Zewu-jun and I have come to see Clan Leader Nie on matters of grave urgency. Our visit is to be kept secret.”

The man glances at Lan Xichen for confirmation. Lan Xichen nods.

Another bow. “Please follow me, then, Zewu-jun. This way. Thank you.”

Xue Yang winks at Lan Xichen as they follow the chamberlain through a series of side passages to the reception hall. Lan Xichen gets the idea that he’s hugely enjoying this farce. In another life, he feels, Xue Yang, might have been an actor.

Lan Xichen, on the other hand, feels his sense of dread growing as they near the hall.

Any hint of color in the Unclean Realm is swallowed by the overwhelming sense of grayness. Slate gray walls. Slate gray floors. Gray ornaments, gray ceilings, gray fixtures and furniture and sconces and statues and carvings.

Exactly like a tomb.

Lan Xichen keeps one hand out, just in case the stifling walls begin to move, to crush him, as he’s convinced they will at any second.

“One moment, please.” The chamberlain bows low at Lan Xichen and disappears through a door. Slate gray, with black accents, set in a dark gray frame.

He returns a few minutes later. “I regret to inform Zewu-jun that Clan Leader Nie is in an important conference, but he would be happy to meet with you tomorrow, or perhaps the day after tomorrow—”

Lan Xichen backhands him into the wall with his full Lan strength and pushes open the door, locking it behind him and Xue Yang.

Nie Huaisang hops to his feet, dropping his paint brush. “Zewu-jun! What a pleasant surprise—”

“Some conference,” says Xue Yang, glancing around at the empty chamber.

Nie Huaisang gulps visibly. Lan Xichen can almost hear the ropes and pulleys creaking in his head as he decides whether to fall back on his old Headshaker routine or acknowledge the fact that Lan Xichen is onto him.

He goes with the former.

“What can I do for Zewu-jun?” he asks, bowing deeply and seating himself on his throne-like seat. He seems to make himself smaller as he does so, as if well aware of how the seat dwarfs him and wanting to play up the impression of smallness, of helplessness, of innocence and vulnerability. “And, of course, our venerated cultivator friend.” He rises again, bows at Xue Yang with a flap of expensive silver sleeve. “It is a true privilege to meet Xiao Xingchen once again.”

That’s right; Nie Huaisang met Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen at the same time A-Yao and Wangji did. Lan Xichen hopes that Xue Yang, remembering this, will reign in the theatrics.

Xue Yang bows a bit too low. “The honor is all mine, Clan Leader.”

“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Nie Huaisang is wearing one of his after-all-it’s-not-as-if-_ I- _ can-be-of-any-help-to- _ you _ looks, and Lan Xichen is seized by the sudden urge to rip his quivering little face off—

He blinks the thought away, a bit unnerved at the idea that Xue Yang might be having more of an influence on him than he’s thought.

Nie Huaisang, in turn, looks even more nervous than usual, as if he’s aware Lan Xichen is not quite himself.

_ Good. You should be afraid of me, you murderer— _

Lan Xichen looks away from Nie Huaisang, eyes roaming over the familiar room. He’d spent many hours here visiting with Nie Mingjue, and then, later, playing guqin opposite A-Yao—

Had A-Yao truly killed Nie Mingjue?

Nie Mingjue had tried to kill A-Yao more than once as his mind deteriorated, but Lan Xichen doubts A-Yao could have done such a terrible thing to their sworn brother in return. If there was one thing A-Yao had proven, it was that he could bear up under repeated slights. He can’t remember if A-Yao confessed to Nie Mingjue's murder at Guanyin Temple, but it doesn't matter. He’d confessed to killing Qin Su, and Lan Xichen himself had watched her commit suicide, witnessed A-Yao’s grief. A-Yao’s guilt and self-loathing, it seemed, was all-encompassing at the end, smothering him, choking all rational thought and pushing him to shoulder every impossible sin in the face of the united wall of hatred that faced him in Guanyin Temple.

_ Not me, _ Lan Xichen wants to say. Will be able to say, soon enough, if all went well. I _ never hated you— _

“Brother Xichen?”

Lan Xichen pulls himself out his thoughts. “We have come to pay our respects to Chifeng-zun,” he says.

Nie Huaisang looks alarmed. “Mingjue?”

“It has been a year since his entombment. I thought it only proper to pay my respects now that I am able to travel again.”

Nie Huaisang picks up the fan he’s painting, using it to hide the lower half of his face. “I’m—I’m afraid that’s not possible, Brother Xichen.”

Xue Yang bows low. “And why not, Clan Leader? Zewu-jun has traveled long to get here.”

“I—er—”

Lan Xichen wonders if Nie Huaisang received a message from Lan Qiren, something about keeping Lan Xichen in the Unclean Realm until the Lan cultivators could arrive. For all that he doubts his uncle would have taken Nie Huaisang into his confidence, the signal could have gone out the second he’d stepped inside the fortress’s gates. Or perhaps Nie Huaisang simply sensed something wrong on his own.

“It’s like this,” says Nie Huaisang, emitting a nervous little laugh from behind the silk fan. “Er—you see—Da-ge is resting in the eastern family tomb.”

“Meaning?”

“Er—well—that’s where we keep our more—how should I put it?—problematic dead.” His eyes dart over to Xue Yang, as if he’d rather not air clan laundry in front of a near-stranger, no matter how distinguished. “There are many seals on the tomb, many—er—dangerous areas—”

“The tomb is booby-trapped,” translates Xue Yang bluntly.

“It’s perhaps not as safe as one might have liked—”

“Like the sabers’ Stone Castles?” asks Lan Xichen. Even before Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s little adventure, he’d heard stories from Nie Mingjue.

Nie Huaisang blanches. “Nothing like that! These spirits aren’t dangerous—it’s simply a precaution—”

Lan Xichen can almost see the calculations in Xue Yang’s head—how fast the cultivator could pounce at the clan leader, snatch his stupid fan away, grab him, _ force _ him to help them—

Lan Xichen shakes his head at Xue Yang warningly. “Your brother was my friend, Huaisang. I have a right to pay my respects, as I was in no condition to do so when he was entombed.”

Nie Huaisang’s tone changes to one of pathetic flattery. “You won’t hold this against me, will you, Brother Xichen? Please understand, Brother Xichen. You know how I value our clans’ friendship, Brother Xichen; but I just simply cannot. Nobody in a hundred years has stepped foot inside the tomb unless it’s to bury a body; even I pay my respects from outside the tomb—but not _ too _ close—”

Xue Yang smiles as if about to make a comment about there being one more Nie body to bury if Nie Huaisang keeps this up, but for once his mouth remains shut.

Nie Huaisang hops off his oversized seat and scurries over to a side door in a funny little trot. “I’ll call the chamberlain; make sure you have comfortable rooms made up!” he says, and he darts out.

Xue Yang smirks. “He certainly lives up to his reputation.”

But Lan Xichen shakes his head. “He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

By request, Lan Xichen and Xue Yang eat alone together in Lan Xichen’s quarters, the same ones he used to stay in when he was a frequent guest here.

“This food is as bad as the Lan junk,” says Xue Yang in disgust. “What did they put in here? Haven’t they ever heard of salt? Meat? Chicken? Honey? Are these raw carrots and leaves stewed in fucking barley water?”

“They prepare it specially for me,” says Lan Xichen absently. He can’t bring himself to eat. He paces the room, trying to ground himself with the firmness of the hard gray stone beneath his feet, the solid smoothness of the walls under his palms, but he’s drifting and he knows it.

“So we can blame you for this inedible garbage? At least at the Cloud Recesses they know how to prepare the stewed leaves properly; this, however—” Xue Yang frowns suddenly. “You don’t look so good, my friend.”

Lan Xichen has sunk to the bed, leaning forward on his knees.

“Zewu-jun?”

“I’m fine.”

“Not worrying about the Lan popping in? I'd say we should get moving, but you don't look great. ”

Lan Xichen glances up. He'd forgotten about the Lan since leaving Nie Huaisang. “I thought we decided my uncle would never trust Nie Huaisang with the truth, and you told me you asked around and were told no Lan cultivators were seen heading here—”

Xue Yang shrugs. “I’ll admit, I half expected to be arrested the second we stepped foot in this metal box. Glad we got an opportunity to eat instead, if you can call this food. I'd figured you could fight us out, maybe take out the Headshaker in the confusion, do the Nie Clan a favor while getting a bit of your own back—”

“I wouldn’t hurt Nie Huisang, no matter how much I wanted to.”

Xue Yang raises an eyebrow. “Never?”

“I am not a murderer.”

“Murderer, killer, same thing.”

“We’ve been through this. It is not at all the same thing.”

Xue Yang makes a face and puts down his chopsticks. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll be right back.” He slips out of the room. Through the door Lan Xichen hears him sending the chamberlain out for different food, but he doesn’t pay attention to the actual words. He’s been here many times before, he knows this guest chamber like the back of his hand, but suddenly the room is unfamiliar. A flash of alarm, as if he can’t remember how he got here even though he can clearly remember the past two hours.

At least he thinks he does.

He lies down on the bed, taking deep, meditative breaths. Stares up at the ceiling. Familiar gray ceiling with familiar stone carvings, but the memory of when he last saw this ceiling is hazy. Hard thin mattress—was it always so hard?—“a warrior’s bed”—who had told him that?

A faint brush of memory: a shared meal—a war conference—a blade flashing beside his—but all that stands out is the sound of guqin music, played in duet.

A sensation of floating, of expanding, of being outside himself, reaching through the walls, feeling the wetness of the rain that has begun to fall—

He opens his eyes. He hadn’t realized they were closed. Xue Yang is just finishing up his meal, watching Lan Xichen with an almost worried expression he just manages to hide as Lan Xichen sits up.

“We leave in five minutes,” he tells him.

Xue Yang grins. “To the tomb?”

“To the tomb.”

* * * * * *

They fly out over the fortress walls.

“I counted a dozen sentries on the parapets,” says Xue Yang as they land. He returns Jiangzai to his qiankun sleeve. “They definitely saw us, despite the rain.”

“Your knocking out the chamberlain did not help matters.”

“He was in our way.”

“He was bringing the dessert you ordered.”

“He had it coming.” There’s a new bounce in Xue Yang’s step, as if he’s happy to be _ doing _ something, _ after _ something. If Lan Xichen didn’t know that there had been nothing but vinegar-water at supper, he’d think the delinquent cultivator had been bending the elbow too freely. “You should have seen the look on his face when I asked for extra honey for my dumplings. As if none of these musclebound Nie ever—”

“Xue Yang, we haven’t the time.”

They hadn’t flown very far, needing to preserve their spiritual energy for the booby-traps and ritual at the tomb. They hurry down the road, expecting guards to be following them at any moment, but the night is quiet save for the pattering rain.

“You do know the way, right?”

Lan Xichen nods. He knows where all the many Nie tombs are thanks to the many internments during and after the Sunshot Campaign, but he hadn’t known which one contained Nie Mingjue and A-Yao or he could have spared them the afternoon’s charade.

“The Headshaker, I feel, is someone I could get on with,” says Xue Yang, who seems to feel it his duty to fill any silence with conversation despite the fact that silence would serve them far better. “Squirrely little bastard, isn’t he? Never boring around him, I’d guess. Always something to laugh at.”

Lan Xichen ignores him. Barely even hears him. He’s outside himself again. He tries to bring himself back into his body, focusing on the drenching wetness chilling every inch of his skin and the muddy squelch beneath his feet as they cut through a hardscrabble little farm, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s bobbing above his body, watching a tall blue figure and smaller green-and-black figure slog side-by-side though the rain.

Without consciously deciding to, he embraces the feeling.

He’d spent the better part of a year like this. It’s familiar. Welcome. A cushioning cocoon of numbness.

And yet, still somehow sharp. Focused. Clear.

A part of him somehow knows that it’s a blessing, how a few hours in the Unclean Realm undid all of the changes of the past month. Knows that he needs the old version of himself to do the things that will need to be done to bring A-Yao back.

Besides, he’s happier this way, on some level.

It’s almost dawn when they arrive, drenched and shivering, at the tomb.

Outside the tomb are seven Nie guards, which explains why nobody has come after them.

“You!” Three of the guards converge at the sight of the intruders. “Oh, it is—begging your pardon, Zewu-jun—”

Lan Xichen reaches inside his qiankun pouch, removes his guqin, and blasts them into the tomb’s outer wall with a single arc of blue light that illuminates the falling rain like lightning.

Xue Yang nods approvingly at the three bodies lying prone at unsettling angles. “You tore through them like rice paper.”

“Captain! We heard—” Four more guards run up.

Four more guards flung into the wall with such force Lan Xichen has Xue Yang check to make sure none are dead.

Not that he cares. Nothing is real. Nothing matters.

But just in case.

“All breathing,” says Xue Yang. “Do you think you could teach me that technique? No?” He glances at the tomb door. “How about using it to open the door, then? Preferably without the blue light giving everyone and their great-aunt our location.”

Lan Xichen’s heart is pounding so hard it’s a miracle the countryside isn’t roused by its thunderous beat.

This is it. Inside is A-Yao.

His A-Yao.

Waiting for him to rescue him—

He summons the awful, wonderful energy swelling within him, focuses it, releases it through his guqin in an explosive blast of energy, rocking the thick stone door off its hinges.

Xue Yang grins delightedly. “I was wrong about you Lan,” he says. “What you lack in pizzazz you make up for in power.”

Lan Xichen strides in. Xue Yang follows, Jiangzai out and resting across both shoulders in a way that, if he’s not careful, might result in his severing the tendons in his shoulder.

Xue Yang takes a torch from a wrought-iron sconce on the wall and lights it with a touch of his finger, a trick he’d learned from the Wens. The light and warmth are welcome, but Lan Xichen is still soaking wet and chilled to the bone. The chill goes deeper than mere autumn coolness. It’s a chill he thought he’d gotten rid of but had in fact just burrowed deeper, to be excavated in the Unclean Realm.

That’s fine, though. He likes the cold. It keeps him awake. Keeps him on his toes, despite his detachment.

Sharp. Focused. Clear.

“No booby traps,” says Xue Yang as they step into a chamber a bit bigger than the Nie reception hall. “Do you think the little chipmunk lied to keep us out?”

“Undoubtedly. Lying is his specialty.”

“Same decorator as the Unclean Realm, I see. All gray stone and ugly monster carvings. At least the Unclean Realm doesn’t reek.”

Lan Xichen ignores the overwhelming musty smell. “There. This one.” He rests both hands on the lid of the sarcophagus. A faint hum can be felt through the thick stone. They had sealed off Nie Mingjue’s ghost, immobilized it, but he can still sense the power of the two spirits, locked in eternal battle. How metaphorical of a battle still remains to be seen. “What next?”

Xue Yang is pulling materials out of his qiankun sleeve. “First of all, we have to be prepared to fight a ghost once we open that coffin—”

“We are not fighting Nie Mingjue!”

“He’s not exactly going to want to sit down to tea, though if we had tea it might we worth a shot—”

“We immediately suppress him.”

“Not liberate? Xiao Xingchen was always keen on setting them at rest.” His tone is dismissive, but Lan Xichen senses the effort it takes to mention Xiao Xingchen so casually.

“His spirit is too far gone for that. The kindest thing would be to put it out of its misery.”

Xue Yang shrugs. “You’re the boss, Zewu-jun. Don’t mind me. I’ll work around you. Actually—” He bows, suddenly deferential “—I will need a drop or two of your blood.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t bother asking him what it’s for. Doesn’t matter at this point, as long as it can help.

With surprising delicacy, Xue Yang pricks Lan Xichen’s finger where it won’t interfere with using his flute, guqin, or sword.

“And now,” he says, removing something from his qiankun sleeve with a flourish, “we prepare the accommodations for our guest of honor.”

It’s the spirit-trapping pouch he’d given to Lan Xichen and long since taken back, its brown sides smooth and blank. As Lan Xichen watches, riveted, Xue Yang uses Lan Xichen’s blood to cover the bag in intricate, entirely foreign symbols.

Xue Yang hands it to Lan Xichen when he’s finished. “Just one moment; I need some...grass from outside. I’ll be back in a second.”

He lights another torch and leaves, returning soon with a handful of grass. He scatters it on the coffin and sets up the rest of the ritual, humming to himself, drawing an intricate array around the sarcophagus in red from a jar he has with him. Red paint, Lan Xichen would have assumed had he been paying even the slightest bit of attention to anything but the spirit-trapping pouch. After all, where would Xue Yang have found so much fresh blood?

“All right, then,” says Xue Yang, straightening up and rinsing his reddened hands off with water from his canteen. “Step away from the sarcophagus, Zewu-jun, if you please. We have work to do. I’ll need the pouch back, please. Thank you.” He waits until Lan Xichen is a safe distance away before putting his hands on the side of the sarcophagus lid. “Sword out,” he reminds Lan Xichen. “Or flute, or guqin, but don’t just stand there.”

Lan Xichen shakes himself out of his reverie. “Do you truly think he might attack?”

“I just know that that fan-waving little prick would rather torment your friend’s spirit than set his own brother’s spirit at rest. After a year of being confined in there like that—”

“It wasn’t that simple,” Lan Xichen has to admit. It had been explained to him once, the rationale for leaving both spirits like this, but he can’t remember the details right now.

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it isn’t. Now, places, everyone.”

Lan Xichen in an agony of suspense, hands shaking as he pulls Liebing from his qiankun pouch and puts it to his lips.

Xue Yang bites his finger and traces symbols on the sarcophagus in blood, breaking the seals.

Lan Xichen holds his breath.

Nothing happens.

Frowning, Xue Yang pushes the heavy stone lid off the sarcophagus.

Black smoke roars up from the sarcophagus, spinning furiously in a tight vortex. It rushes Xue Yang, flinging him into the wall before he can react.

Lan Xichen begins to play battle music.

Nie Mingjue is one of the angriest spirits he’s ever encountered. But though Lan Xichen is not the man he used to be, tonight he’s committed.

Sharp. Focused. Clear.

Xue Yang is back on his feet, Jiangzai drawn, but he’s smart enough to stay put as Lan Xichen plays.

He channels all of his remaining spiritual energy into Liebing, channels the affection he bears for the man the spirit had once been, channels his feelings for the man whose spirit this man is tormenting, and with the sense of something rupturing, Nie Mingjue’s spirit dissipates.

“I told you it was sheer spite, keeping him in there,” says Xue Yang, spitting blood. “If you could do it, anyone could.”

“Not everyone can do what I can.” Lan Xichen isn’t bragging; it’s simple fact. He glances over anxiously at Xue Yang, who stands looking down into the sarcophagus. “What now?”

Xue Yang turns away and draws unfamiliar symbols in the air.

The array glows red.

At the sight, Lan Xichen goes entirely numb. He’d swear he’s as faded as Nie Mingjue, as vague and amorphous as his birth name, Huan—“to dissipate”—a handful of vapor, a human-shaped patch of nothing so focused on Xue Yang’s next words that it’s lost all sense of self.

Xue Yang turns back to Lan Xichen. In his hand is the spirit pouch.

The symbols on the sides are glowing with a touch of the array’s eerie red light.

Grinning, he tosses it to Lan Xichen.

“He’s all yours,” he says.

* * * * *

Up Next: Xue Yang and Lan Xichen pay Chang Ping a friendly visit in a desperate bid to bring A-Yao back.

Or: Don’t try this at home, kids.

Chapter 6

#Chapter Summary: Nie Huaisang is (almost) utterly useless #Or: The Nie chamberlain’s very bad no-good day. Also some tomb robbing if that floats your boat #Fractured Ice #Xue Yang #Lan Xichen #XueXiao #XiYao #mdzs fanfiction #cql fanfic

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severetimetravelnerd · 4 years

Text

Hatred and Love (ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 14

Jiyong realises something very important.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@kwonnansi

@aarfyie

@suhappysuho

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Now, things are coming to a close. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This continues with the EXO storyline, but again, I have nothing against EXO :)) I love them, but I had to use someone for the plot. This chapter has a lot of Suho. It also has a good amount of Xiumin:))

This is the last part of the series and I’m so sorry it took me so long to upload it :(((( I know it’s been ages, but after all of this, I just blanked out when it came to the ending. Thanks for supporting me and following the story :)) I’m going to miss this one :))

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language.

————————————————————————–

You had no idea what to expect. You turned to Jiyong, eyebrows raised, wondering what Joonmyeon could possibly want, but Jiyong looked just as stumped as you. He was also way angrier. His eyes immediately became cold and hard.

“What does that fucker want now?”

You gently took his hand, trying to calm him down.

“Let’s go into this with an open mind? Maybe he wants to come up with some sort of agreement?”

Jiyong tried to conceal his anger but that didn’t work very well. His jaw was absolutely taut when he spoke.

“Y/N, he wants to fuck things up somehow. Why else would he want you there? You’re the one person I’m scared of disappointing.”

You planted a light kiss on his cheek, instantly making him relax.

“Then maybe that’s a good thing. You won’t do anything that would disappoint me.”

He sighed, but he kissed you back.

“You’re right, Y/N. You’re the only person I can stay calm for.”

The two of you walked into Jongin’s room, that had been turned into a makeshift conference room. Joonmyeon was there in a wheelchair. Yixing and Sehun were also there with their hands bound, both flanked by Hanbin and Mino, making sure neither of them try something funny. Jiyong took his place at the head of the table, prepared to let Joonmyeon start, but Joonmyeon looked up straight at you. Still looking at you, he said,

“No Jiyong. That seat isn’t for you. That seat is for her. Your side of the table is over there.”

Jiyong stretched his neck, unable to believe what Joonmyeon just told him. You were also in complete shock. Why would he want you at the head of the table? Before you could overthink it, Joonmyeon said,

“I want Y/N to be the head and mediator of this meeting. She can guide us towards a merger.”

His eyes were thrown at you, as though daring you to take up the challenge, daring you to mess up. Jiyong eyes turned dark with pure, unadulterated rage and he was about to step in when you met Joonmyeon’s gaze. This guy had messed with you one too many times. You had had enough.

“Okay Joonmyeon. I will.”

Every single head in the room whipped towards you, wondering what you were playing at. Jiyong, still in shock, quietly got up and went to his seat. You sat down, slowly crossing your legs. Your eyes were so determined, they were nearly piercing through Joonmyeon. No one there had ever seen you that way before. Not even when they first abducted you. Staring straight at him, you began.

“Well, Joonmyeon, what did you want to discuss?”

Your gaze was hostile, openly challenging him to try and mess with you. Joonmyeon hated it. He hated that he felt so guilty about harming you and Jongin. He hated that he owed you his life. He hated that he couldn’t completely hate you. This was just his way of trying to find reasons to hate you. But none of this struggle showed on the outside. Eyes cold and calculating, he said,

“If we’re doing a merger, only I have control over my men.”

Even before he finished the sentence, you could feel the anger and the protests from the rest of the room, including EXO, but you silenced them all with a glare. Joonmyeon just wanted to make things messy and you wouldn’t let him. Jiyong snarled when he heard that, but he calmed down when he looked at you there, his grip on his gun slowly loosening. Your voice was quiet but firm when you spoke.

“Joonmyeon, I don’t think you understand your position. You asked for a merger. Not a partnership. With a merger, you become part of an organisation and work the same way the organisation had worked. So, no. You won’t be the only person to have control over your troops. You will be at the level assigned to you. And you will have to report to Jiyong.”

Joonmyeon already knew all of that, but he just wanted to get a rise out of you. Nonchalantly stretching, he said,

“Okay, but I’m second in command.”

That was too much for Jiyong to bear and he scoffed. He threw his head back to laugh and then he slammed the table. His voice was dangerously detached when he did speak.

“Joonmyeon, is this a joke to you?”

You saw the glint in Joonmyeon’s eyes. He was happy he succeeded in getting a rise out of Jiyong. He felt that it somehow validated his behaviour and his deep-rooted hatred for them, although he knew they weren’t that bad. You had saved his life. Jiyong saved his men. He was just clutching at straws to justify his behaviour. You were determined to not give him those straws. You would make him realise that there wasn’t any justification for his behaviour. He would take accountability and realise where he went wrong, so that he could go back to being himself, instead of being obsessed with taking Jiyong down. Your hand quietly wrapped around Jiyong’s hand, silently urging him to not say anything. Jiyong eyes flashed, and he glared at you, annoyed that you were telling him to not react, but he kept quiet anyway. You tried to look at Joonmyeon, but he was refusing to look at you. He didn’t want to make eye contact. He could only put up the act as long as someone didn’t see through him. You tried to get him to peacefully meet your gaze, but when he absolutely refused to, you resorted to desperate measures. Standing up, you grabbed his chin and forced him to look straight at you. Your voice was still calm when you said,

“Joonmyeon, you and I both know that’s not going to happen. You might not even get a commanding post for a while, because you, Yixing and Sehun have to prove your loyalties first. How are we supposed to trust you after everything that happened? You turned on Jongin. Why wouldn’t you do that again?”

Joonmyeon could feel this crushing pain when you said that. He didn’t want to accept that he did that, but there was no other way to it. Joonmyeon lost all fight when you said that. You had seen through him. He quietly slipped out of your grasp and turned to Jongin, bowing deeply before saying,

“Jongin, I’m sorry.”

Jongin sat there, on his bed, in complete and utter shock. Joonmyeon hyung never apologised, especially not in front of other people. He was too in shock to say anything. Heart sinking even further, Joonmyeon turned to you, bowed and apologised. He then looked up and for the first time, his eyes were genuine.

“Thank you for saving my life Y/N.”

Everyone other than Minseok was in shock. Minseok had the slightest smile on his face.

“Maybe we will get out Joonmyeon back after all.”

Sehun and Yixing were both furious, and they were about to protest it, and Hanbin and Mino were ready to supress it, but you beat them to it. Voice cool, you said,

“To prove their loyalty, Joonmyeon, Yixing and Sehun will work directly under Minseok and Youngbae for the next three months to start with. They’ll work on the Hongdae area.”

Joonmyeon’s head shot up when he heard you. You were giving them control over Hongdae? The area that they’d been fighting for? Joonmyeon’s eyes teared up a little. He would finally get to take care of his sister’s grave. Joonmyeon immediately bowed before you. Yixing and Sehun were too shocked to do anything except stare at you in disbelief.

“Thank you, Y/N. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

You had the slightest smile on your face when you replied,

“You’re welcome Joonmyeon.”

Jiyong sat there watching all the events unfold, feeling detached. He didn’t mind that you were making decisions for him. he knew the others wouldn’t mind either. He knew it was only because of you that they managed to resolve things with Joonmyeon. But he was more worried about the other things. The slight tremble in your hands from dealing with this. Your pale and tired face. Your tendency to flinch slightly when people make sudden movements. The near imperceptible tremor in your voice. You weren’t used to this, and it scared you. He felt awful. You didn’t deserve this. You had been through so much. You needed a break. And he would make sure you got one. For the first time in his life, Jiyong decided he would take a break with you. It wasn’t because he wanted to take a break, but more because you needed him around. As weird as it was, although Jiyong was the one drawing you into this world, your only way to feel better about everything was around him. And also, for the simple reason that he missed you, and couldn’t stand being away from you any longer. He was staring at you, making up his mind about exactly what to do when you turned to him.

“Jiyong, that’s okay right?”

He didn’t hear you. He had zoned you out, wondering how he got so lucky as to have you in his life. He would protect that at all costs. He would protect you at all costs. He would protect your happiness at all costs. You raised your eyebrows, wondering why he didn’t reply. You mentally scolded yourself for shooting your mouth off like that without talking to him first. You turned to Jiyong, much more nervous.

“Jiyong? All okay, Love?”

The vibe of the meeting had changed. Everything was much more relaxed. Sehun was trying hard not to cry, Yixing was apologising to everyone, Jongin was playfully guilt-tripping a very apologetic Joonmyeon about his injuries. But when you said that, everyone turned to Jiyong, a little nervous. He had a rather…intimidating reputation. Youngbae was the only one who was sure Jiyong would be okay with it. He was more interested in watching the drama between you and Jiyong unfold. Jiyong just stared at you, looking at him nervously. There was one thing that was different about you. No matter how nervous you were at that moment, there was no fear in your eyes. You looked at him trustingly, knowing fully well that no matter how dangerous a man he is, he would never hurt you. Ever. Jiyong didn’t bother answering your question. Jiyong just stood up, leaned over the table, grabbed your face and kissed you. A deep, hungry kiss. All his longing, all his fears, all his worries were in that. He deepened the kiss because as he felt your soft hands gently caress his bruised knuckles and kiss him back, he realised that there was something he needed to do. He needed to meet his grandmother.

You were very surprised when you were pulled up from your seat and kissed like there was no tomorrow, but you kissed him back equally longingly. You had missed him. You had never stopped worrying about him. You were right. You didn’t know whether there was going to be a tomorrow. You kissed him until you felt like you had the feel of his lips committed to memory. Cheers erupted all around you, although the two of you were quite oblivious to it. Hanbin rolled his eyes, laughing at the two of you while Jongin whistled. Hanbin leaned over and muttered to Jongin.

“Thank god the two of them are back together. I didn’t think it was possible, but they’re more annoying on their own.”

Jongin scoffed.

“Hanbin, I can see that you’re tearing up.”

Jiyong pulled away first, both of you gasping for breath. You blushed at all the hooting boys around you, some newer than others, but all equally determined to embarrass you. Jiyong didn’t even bother to acknowledge the hooting. He just turned to Youngbae and whispered something in his ear, making you look at him quizzically. He turned to give you a quick, reassuring smile before speaking.

“Okay. Now that the merger is done, I have an announcement. I’m going to be away for a month. Youngbae is second in command. Don’t try to reach me unless it’s absolutely urgent.”

Your heart fell. He was going to be away for a month. After everything. When you had just gotten back together. You had missed him so much. But you tried your best to not let your face fall, sticking a weak smile on your face. If he was leaving, it had to be important. You would talk to him about it in private. Everyone nodded except Hanbin. Hanbin was pouting when he said,

“Who’s after Youngbae hyung?”

Jiyong froze for a second, staring at Hanbin before sighing and answering.

“Seunghyun hyung.”

“After him?”

“Daesung.”

“After him?”

“Minseok.”

Minseok looked surprised while Hanbin’s pout deepened.

“Hanbin, are you really going to make me list this out in order?”

“Yes.”

Jiyong glared at him and answered.

“Then it’s Mino. Then it’s Jongdae. Then it’s Baekhyun. Then Chanyeol. Then it’s you. Then it’s Jongin. Then it’s Kyungsoo. Then it’s Joonmyeon, Yixing and Sehun. In that order.”

While the others laughed at Hanbin arguing with Jiyong, you struggled to keep that smile on your face. Jiyong playfully glared at the rest of the room before grabbing your hand and walking out of the room. Your heart sank even more. He was going to say bye. He was going to leave again. You were staring at the floor, letting yourself get lost in your thoughts when he tilted your head up and beamed at you, the smile leaving quickly when he saw that you weren’t smiling.

“What’s wrong love?”

You bit down on your trembling lips and looked away, not wanting to make him feel worse. He gently cupped your face and made you look at him.

“Talk to me Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m just going to miss you Jiyong.”

He looked terrified.

“Why? Why’re you going to miss me? Are you leaving me?”

You stared at him confused.

“No. You’re going somewhere, remember?”

Jiyong’s brows knitted together in confusion before he laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“Sweetheart, if you think I’m going anywhere without you after not having seen you for the past month, you’re in for a surprise.”

It took a while for it to hit you, but when you finally realised he wasn’t leaving, you hugged him tight, burying your face in his chest. You looked up at him, confused.

“You mean I’m coming with you on work?”

He leaned in and nibbled on your ear, pressing a light kiss against your neck before saying,

“No. I mean we’re going on a holiday.”

Two weeks later, you lay down on the plush bed in Jiyong’s hidden away holiday home, buried under the blankets and wearing his hoodie, so utterly happy with how everything just felt right. You closed your eyes and buried deeper into the bed, enjoying the warmth of it. You felt the bed dip as you heard Jiyong’s sleepy morning voice.

“Good morning love. I got you your tea.”

He sat and was about to sip his tea when you crawled into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, snuggling into him. Amused, he asked,

“Do you not plan on letting me drink my tea?”

You took in a deep breath, letting Jiyong’s familiar scent wash over you.

“Nope.’’

“Do you plan on moving from here?”

Pressing a light kiss against his smile, you said,

“Nope.”

You stared out of the balcony. It was 3 am on your last night there, and you were lost in thought while you stared at the stars. That one month was magical. You had Jiyong all to yourself, and both of you sat and worked through the problems in your relationship. You knew you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You knew you weren’t scared of him. You couldn’t live without him. You didn’t realise how windy it was until he walked out behind you, wrapping a blanket around you. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck.

“Love, you have to be careful. You can’t stand out here in just my t shirt.”

You turned around to face him, wrapping the blanket around the both of you.

“Jiyong, you came out here in just your boxers. I don’t think you should be lecturing me.”

He had this blissful smile as he kissed your forehead.

“I couldn’t help it Y/N. I just needed to be out here with you.”

You had the same blissful smile as you kissed him, letting yourself get lost in the kiss. He pulled away, suddenly looking nervous.

“Y/N, I know we’re going back tomorrow, and I know I’ll get busy, but like we discussed, I promise I will always make time for you.”

He paused to take a deep breath, desperately trying to calm down that rising feeling of nervousness in him.

“I know you can do way better than me, and you deserve way better, but I promise I will always respect you, and I will do anything to make you happy. I’ve realised I can’t live without you, and I know this might be too sudden, and I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but you’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with and start a family with. So, Y/N L/N, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

You stared at him in shock for a minute, unable to comprehend what was going on before a single tear slipped down your face, and you burst into the largest smile you had in you. You nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Kwon Jiyong, I would love to marry you.”

Jiyong felt all the nervousness leave his body only to be replaced with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling of joy. There are no words for how he felt in that moment. And as he slipped on the beautiful ring his grandmother had given him to give you, he lifted you up and kissed you, knowing that everything finally felt right.

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