#he wants to come up with theories as to how a crime could have been committed

[olliepurples]

mdarc chapter 4 spoilers

i'm a couple of doors into the mystery labyrinth, and it's getting a little annoying having shinigami and yuma go "but how could this have happened? who could have done this?" when i literally knew it was yakou as soon as the game told me that the poison had a delay. this is so silly like "how could anyone have got past this, they would have died in thirty minutes!" ok! narrow your suspect pool to people who die in the next thirty minutes then! damn!!!

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.

[saintobio]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. (final part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

in the painful memory of what once was, sylus learns that love can't be bound where it was never meant to stay.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. sylus's pov, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus might be ooc, main story spoilers, razor's dance spoilers, nightplumes spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), espionage, jealousy, brief smut, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation kink, mentions of accidents, suicide attempt, injuries, blood, usage of guns, usage of knife, killings, death, my own theories incorporated into the lore, sylus groveling bcos yall want him to

♱ notes. 9.5k wc. l&ds!mc is referred to here as 'diana'. THIS IS A REPOST of the original post i accidentally deleted. i already posted this several hours ago, so if you’re seeing this new one again, blame my dumbass 🤧 oh well life is life.

Sylus had a part of him that wished things could be different. 

Ever since he turned away and left you that night at the alleyway, he didn’t really realize the chain of events his decision would set into motion. He simply underestimated how strongly your threats were backed by the grudge you had on him for bringing the hunter girl from Linkon into his base.

After all, you were just an assistant of his. And her, she was everything to him. It wasn’t just about the Aether Core, too—their bond stretched back into his distant past, into another planet where two of them ruled before the inhabitants of Philos came to ruin everything. Him and Diana had a connection he couldn’t sever no matter how much you had come to mean to him. And he spent years, centuries even, just to search for her. 

So, how could a mere assistant he had known for less than a decade have such entitlement to her role in his life? 

Eventually, days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. With your prolonged absence from the Onychinus base, Sylus’s business transactions and illicit deals had become increasingly unruly. He had grown too dependent on you as his right-hand woman, relying on your meticulous management to ensure all his illegal activities ran smoothly. Yet now, without your oversight, things were falling apart.

And while he was contemplating how to fill the void your absence had created, the office door slammed open. A subordinate soon rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed. “Boss, she’s betrayed us!” Luke exclaimed. “She’s gone to the Hunter’s Association. We got word that she was a high-ranking intelligence agent there!”

“A.K.A a spy!” yelled the other twin, Kieran, who looked equally hurt at your betrayal. “She fooled all of us. And here, we treated her like family.” 

That was how Sylus learned that you had left the N109 Zone, seeking refuge in Linkon City, and had exposed critical intel on Onychinus. At the time, rage naturally exploded within him. Didn’t he take good care of you while you were here? He had given you everything, trusted you, and you had thrown it all away. Four years of falling into his trap. Four years of being his partner in crime, his right-hand woman, his lover. People even saw you as the modern day Bonnie & Clyde. Sylus couldn’t understand the root of your betrayal, couldn’t imagine how letting you slip away from his grasp would cost him so much in return.

When you vowed to do everything in your power to kill Diana, was this just a part of your grand scheme? What other machinations were you orchestrating in your pursuit of revenge?

“She’s a wild animal on loose.” Sylus looked up at the twins, maintaining a calm yet ruthless mien as he sat on the couch. He might be idly tossing a coin like he didn’t care, but inside his brain was chaos ensuing. “Where’s she now? Any news?”

It was Luke who shrugged in response. “She hasn’t been seen anywhere, boss-man.”

“We suspect the Association is hiding her,” Kieran added. 

The hunter girl, Diana—the very girl you were jealous of, was sitting next to Sylus throughout the conversation. Their hands were connected by a strong energy linkage that was seemingly ignited by the Aether Cores in their bodies. They couldn’t separate themselves even if they wanted to. And God forbid you would have lost your mind tenfold had you seen their situation right now. 

“That g-girl,” gasped the hunter girl, eyes wide in bewilderment at what she was hearing. “Sylus, your assistant. She did all that? She was a spy from the Hunter’s Association?” 

Luke tilted her head at the girl, his beaked mask mocking her. “Oh, miss hunter! Haven’t you heard about the HIS? You should know them better than us.” 

“Well.. what is the HIS?” 

“Hunter Intelligence Services.” Sylus was the one who answered, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his temples. “They’re top secret. Regular hunters wouldn’t have known about them, because they only deal with people like me.” 

Diana looked between him and the twins, rubbing her wrist before moving closer to the boss of Onychinus. Her close proximity allowed him to smell her familiar sweet scent. “Is she… after me? But I don’t understand. If she’s part of the Hunter’s Association too, then shouldn’t we be colleagues?”

Kieran cleared his throat. “Ever since you came—”

“Place a bounty on her head,” Sylus interrupted the twins, and also ignored the question of the girl next to him. She didn’t need to learn the history behind you and him, or why you chose to target her. “Make sure to bring Y/N back to me. Alive.” 

“Roger that, boss!” 

It was his last desperate attempt to draw you back to him. Now that you had the Hunter’s Association protecting you, Sylus knew that locating you wouldn’t be as simple. Otherwise, he would have easily captured Diana long ago. He convinced himself that the bounty was to punish you, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn’t bear to lose you to his enemies completely.

~~

It took you a year to return to the N109 Zone.

Did you forget he had eyes and ears everywhere? He was the boss of that infamous No-Hunt Zone. Even if you leaked intel about his residences and the Onychinus base to the Hunter’s Association, Sylus still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had hideouts in places that even you weren’t aware of, and the residents of the N109 Zone were loyal to him. Too loyal that they wouldn’t give any information to anyone no matter the consequences. 

And how foolish were you to forget about Mephisto’s existence?

“Caw! Caw!”

The mechanical crow’s eyes glowed with the same red hue as Sylus’s as it landed on his arm, projecting visions of you entering the underground fight club disguised in an Onychinus uniform. It was almost farcical that you thought you could infiltrate a place Sylus frequented unnoticed.

But then, the vision shifted to you speeding on a motorcycle with a truck in hot pursuit. Sylus quickly recognized the truck’s decals—it was the hitman he often employed for dealing with his enemies, now terrorizing you in a high-speed chase. Without hesitation, Sylus grabbed his leather jacket and mounted his own bike, racing to your location in sixth gear.

He arrived just a minute too late. And what was meant to be a dramatic reunion turned into a scene of you lying unconscious and injured on the road, while the hitman grinned nearby with an expression of triumph. If it hadn’t been for your helmet, Sylus would have been met with the gruesome sight of your shattered skull.

“Mr. Sylus!” the hitman exclaimed, jumping out of his truck with arms outstretched in petty victory. “Can I get the $500,000,000 in cash?”

As Sylus’s gaze fell on your unconscious, injured body sprawled on the ground, a surge of anguish overwhelmed him in ways he couldn’t understand. But it was quickly replaced by seething rage—rage that made him summon his black-red mist, enveloping the hitman in its dark tendrils.

“I said not to harm her,” Sylus growled, his red eye glowing ominously against the desolate highway backdrop. “You failed your task.”

“P-Please, Mr. Sylus! I thought you—”

Without another word, Sylus scooped you up in his arms while his mist dealt with the hitman behind him. The hitman’s desperate cries were soon drowned out by the expanding tendrils, which tightened around him until he was engulfed. Then, in a violent burst, the mist exploded, reducing the hitman and everything around him to dust.

Sylus brought you to his underground hideout immediately after. And an unfamiliar—or perhaps strange—pang tugged at his heart as he gently laid you in bed, his gaze lingering on the road rash you obtained from the crash. The injuries were severe, with patches of skin nearly stripped away in the most brutal fashion he could think of. He could only imagine the burning pain you had to endure as soon as you skidded along the gravel, and Sylus felt his own frustrations knocking at the door knowing that he didn’t have the power to extend his fast-healing abilities to you.

“Tch. My kitten’s reckless as always, riding without the proper gear,” Sylus grumbled, looking at your unconscious body. “You’ve never been one to follow the rules, have you?”

To make up for his inability to save you on time, he applied a potent medicinal ointment all over your body and placed you in an anesthetized state while you healed. His mist enveloped you like a protective shroud the entire time you laid in bed unconscious. Every single day, Sylus tended to your wounds, changing your clothes and bandages, and applying the ointments over your bare body. He even took special care to ensure the twins did not enter your room without his permission. 

Despite the care he showed, a persistent question echoed in his mind: Why am I doing this for you? You were his enemy, a traitor, and a woman who had betrayed him. It didn’t make sense. 

That afternoon, feeling suffocated from this internal conflict, Sylus decided to leave you in the care of Luke and Kieran while he went to Linkon. He knew he needed space to grapple with the feelings that were driving him to care for you in the first place.

He needed to see the real woman he should be caring for. 

Because you had not only exposed intel on Sylus and Onychinus to the Hunter’s Association, you also asked for them to isolate Diana so she would have no way to see or contact him. Who knew that mere feelings of jealousy would spark you to do such trivial things? 

Frankly, you were insane. You were dark and twisted like him. 

But in a way, it only underscored how similarly deranged the two of you were. Perhaps, in your madness, there was a strange compatibility—one that Sylus found unsettlingly fitting. The suggestion of you two being more a suitable pair than he and Diana gave him an unease that he couldn’t simply shake away. 

It should be her. Her. Just her and her alone. He dedicated his whole life into finding her, yet you came into his life to ruin the foundations he had built to meet the person he was supposedly destined for. He had repeated it over and over in his mind like a broken record—the voices in his head telling him to let you go, to hurt you, to make you suffer. 

However, as he stood across the pedestrian crossing, watching Diana from afar, a realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. There she was, oblivious to his presence on the other side, but the spark that once ignited in his heart whenever he saw her was gone. Now, his pulse remained steady and his heart stayed still.

With a wary glance around, mindful of any watchful eyes, he decided to pick up his phone and ring hers. It was a good thing he was able to seamlessly blend into the crowd, with his practiced nonchalance making him invisible among the throng of people. After all, he was Sylus Qin, the mastermind of Onychinus—disguise was second nature to him.

“Sylus?” Her voice came through the line, tentative and filled with a mix of emotions as she scanned the faces on the other side of the crossing.

“According to the conditions set by the Hunter’s Association, we shouldn’t be meeting again.” His voice was steady, almost detached, as he kept the phone pressed to his ear. “Or if not, you will be marked as a Tenebra.” 

Her eyes eventually found him amidst the walking crowd, keeping an expression on her face that showed both longing and forlornness. “Not the first time someone has been marked a Tenebra because of you,” she managed to slip in a snarky remark in her worried expression. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he nonchalantly asked, watching as she stepped off the curb when the light turned green. Each step was a step closer to him, but nothing changed the pace of his own heartbeat like it should have. Nothing stirred within him as it once did.

“You have the audacity to use a phone when you’re right in front of me,” she snapped, frustration flaring as she yanked the phone from his grasp. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm, dragging him along with her to escape the dangers of being seen in public. They ended up in an alleyway, a place hidden from prying eyes, an irony that made Sylus chuckle under his breath. The alleyway. Why has that become such a memorable place to him? “Sylus, what’s so funny? I was so scared something happened to you! You couldn’t even call me back or text me the past few days?”

He remained expressionless as he observed her outburst. Strange. In her frantic worry, she reminded him of you, and it was a discomfiting parallel that sent chills down his spine. “I said I’d need to disappear from your life completely, so I have to tie up loose ends,” he began, each word seemingly a dagger to her heart. “We haven’t been able to resonate either way, sweetie. There’s no reason for us to keep meeting.” 

“No!” she adamantly denied the thought, pulling him into an embrace. “No, you’re not allowed to disappear just like that! We need to find a way to get—”

“It’s a dangerous gamble to be caught in my world,” he said in a low voice. 

But she was stubborn. “I’m already caught in it! So, please, Sylus, take me with you. Take me to the N109 Zone or wherever you’re hiding. I want to be where you are.” And in spite, she uttered words that made Sylus think twice about his perception of you. “It’s her fault that this is all happening. She’s a traitor to you and to the Association. Her loyalty isn’t with anyone but herself, Sylus. She’s the one who needs to disappear!”

~~

Back at his hideout, Sylus was careful to ensure that Diana remained oblivious to your presence in another room. He was already grappling with how to manage the situation—torn between the woman he loved and the woman he had wronged who, ironically, were both now under the same roof. The thought of you two crossing paths was a nightmare he didn’t want to deal with, so he gave strict orders to the twins, notorious for their loose lips and loud mouths, to keep Diana far from you.

Because when Sylus returned to your room, he knew you were awake. The dark classical music playing from the vinyl record had likely stirred you from unconsciousness. It had been nearly a week since the crash, but thanks to his meticulous care, your wounds had mostly healed, leaving only faint scars behind.

“You can’t hide from me forever.” Sylus hovered over you to whisper into your ear, summoning his protective black-red mist to slowly release you. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.” 

When you finally opened your eyes after what felt like an eternity, Sylus told himself it was natural to feel relieved, that it was only right for his heart to soften at the sight of you returning to consciousness. But as you awoke, the voices in his head—the damned, relentless voices—grew louder, mocking him, provoking him, and luring him into darker thoughts. His right eye began to glow like a flickering candle, and when he saw the fear on your face, the words that followed weren’t his own. They were driven by the unforgiving side of him he couldn’t control, a side that thrived on your terror. The beast that couldn’t be tamed. 

She’s a traitor.

Punish her. 

Hurt her. 

Devour her. 

While in a heated, dramatic exchange with you, Sylus was spewing words he didn’t mean. He was doing actions without regard. He was mocking your pain. Your jealousy. Your heartbreak. The drive to hurt you was strong in his head, but he fought desperately against it. The demon inside him that tried to consume his every thought. He tried to battle his own self just to protect you. 

“I betrayed you because of her!” 

His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened, replaced by the wicked smile on his face that enjoyed seeing you suffer. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”

You tried to move away, but Sylus pressed his foot firmly on your wrist. She betrayed you, Sylus. Punish her. 

“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with corrupt satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”

It wasn’t until you reached for the gun on his nightstand, pointing it at yourself, that Sylus snapped out of his dark trance. The horror in his eyes was a stark contrast to the sorrowful shine in yours as you stood there, sobbing in front of him. Each word you spoke was tailed with the pain of a heart shattered by everything he had done and said. 

“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment, but your heart had already been blown into smithereens. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”

Even as his gaze softened and a flicker of regret passed across his face, you had already made your decision when your finger tightened on the trigger. The recoil jolted your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. Instead of ending your life, the bullet shattered a window, ricocheting off the glass and disappearing into the night.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his voice a thunderous mix of fury and disbelief.

You were barely responding to him as he cupped your cheeks and forced your lachrymose eyes to lock into his crimson ones. It was as though you had already resigned yourself to reality, that ending your own life would have been a better option than being with the man you hopelessly loved. 

“Y/N,” Sylus tried to shake you awake, desperate for you to look into his eyes. “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.” 

“...I was never playing one with you.”

Sylus was overwhelmed by a profound, indescribable pain that pierced his chest. It was a pain that mirrored yours but was infinitely more intense. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me,” he said in a low, softened voice, “It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe. Why don’t you listen?” He longed to pull you into his arms, but the crushing reality was that he only now realized how deeply he cared for you. It was devastating that his awakening had come at the cost of your near-suicide, forced by a love he was unable to return.

Was it truly too late for him to come to terms with his feelings for you? Was it too late to accept that he had fallen in love with you rather than the woman he believed he was meant to be with?

His answer came in the form of a gut-wrenching realization. It manifested in the frantic voice of Diana—the woman he believed he loved, piercing through the haze of his thoughts by yelling, “Sylus, step back!”

“No!” he shouted, his black-red mist swirling to intercept the bullet.

But his efforts came too late. The bullet had already been set in motion, and it tore through the side of your head. 

It penetrated your skull with a cruel precision, not just once but twice. And the warmth of your blood seeped through his fingers as he caught your head before you fell onto the floor. 

Sylus’s mind raced with the enormity of what had just happened. His face grew ashen as he looked at your bloodied head and lifeless eyes, a wave of acid welling up his chest until he couldn’t breath. But the reason for his suffocation was because of his own guilt and grief. It was at the force of a sledgehammer when he was hit with the admission that he had always been in love with you. All along, despite your tangled mess, it was you who had captured his heart in this world.

His chest tightened, his breaths coming in ragged, broken bursts, while he held you close in his arms. And your last three words, your very last words of “I… love… you…” as you stared despairingly at him was icing on this bitter cake. 

No… no! 

He couldn’t fucking accept it. He was losing his mind, he was going insane. He was plunging into madness. Utter hysteria. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking as your eyes, once full of life and light, were now glazed over with the sheen of death. “Don’t leave. No, I can’t let this happen!” For the first time in a long time, he once again felt hot tears leaving his eyes. It was an emotion so rare it only ever showed toward the people he deeply cared about. “I love you too,” he struggled to say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back there.”

Sylus held you close, disregarding the blood staining his clothes while he was consumed by agony and regret. He had driven you to this, pushed you away, and then drawn you back into his orbit only to lose you forever. 

Though he may have conquered your heart, in doing so, he had only destroyed the both of you. The memory of your love and the warmth of your touch would haunt him for the rest of his days. And as he held your lifeless body, he knew that he would never be whole again.

But it shouldn’t be too late. No, it shouldn’t! He didn’t know if it was the hysteria or adrenaline kicking into him, but he had thought of an idea—no matter how immoral—that would return you back to him. He just couldn’t weigh which strong emotion he had to deal with first; should he grab the gun and shoot Diana out of anger? Or should he ignore her presence entirely and just focus on you?

Sylus chose to proceed with the latter as he carried you through the corridors of the base, his steps heavy with guilt and his shirt drenched in blood as you remained unconscious in his arms. The hunter girl had followed him in his spiritless steps, her eyes wide with confusion over his anguish.

“Sylus, why are you doing this?!” she demanded, grabbing his arm to halt his progress. “She would’ve killed you. That girl’s a traitor!”

Although he stopped in his tracks, he couldn’t really return her gaze. His eyes could only look at your lifeless ones. “That girl you shot in the head,” he spoke low and in despair, “is my woman.” 

Diana was horrified. “But… but you never said—” Before she could finish, the twins intervened, holding her back from pursuing Sylus further. “What about me?”

He had already turned away. “I’ll fulfill my promise to protect you from afar, but this is where our paths part. Do not come near me again.”

~~

Sylus stood over your unconscious body, his eyes bloodshot and tears-streaked, while his heart pounded with a mix of grief and desperation. He had summoned Philip and the finest surgeons he knew to his hideout, where you lay in a medical bed, exposed and vulnerable, as if you were a subject in a desperate experiment.

Philip arrived with a grim expression, his eyes scanning the scene with both skepticism and professional detachment. Sylus could barely contain his desperation as he demanded, “Do everything you can to save her. Even if it means infusing a high-grade protocore in her brain.” After all, he had plenty of that. Sylus had all the resources, protocores of the highest grade, each with their own purpose and capabilities.

Yet Philip hesitated, his face contorting with concern. “Mr. Sylus, you know I can’t do this. She’s gone. The best thing to do is accept—”

That was when Sylus’s composure cracked. He kicked the nearby chair out of rage, tears streaming down his face as he begged, “You’ve done it before. Do it again! Please, I need her to live!”

The sight of Sylus, usually so imposing and dominant, breaking down in front of him was shocking. Philip felt a pang of sympathy toward the Onychinus boss who was willing to do everything for a woman who was already dead. His hands trembled as he spoke, “I-I can try. But I’m warning you, Mr. Sylus… even if she survives this, there’s zero chance her memories will be the same. They may even become altered, and it will be out of our control.”

Sylus’s gaze never left you. “I don’t mind. Just do it.”

~~

Weeks later, Sylus found himself in a secluded alleyway, meeting with a deepspace hunter who was also an enemy of his from another planet. Of course, the atmosphere was tense as both men stood in front of each other, eye-to-eye, carrying a defensive stance from one another. 

They were never friends. But that day, they weren’t enemies either. 

“How’s she?” Xavier broke the silence first. 

Sylus answered with a low voice. “She hasn’t woken up, but she’s stable.”

“Why’d you ask to meet?”

“I want you to look after her,” the Onychinus leader began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of desperation, “Speak to the Association about taking Y/N back and forgiving her for her betrayal. In return, I’ll step away from Diana’s life. She’s all yours. I just want Y/N to return to her normal life.”

Xavier’s expression was serious. “You’re forgetting you still have a bounty on your head.”

“And you’re forgetting you and your backtrackers destroyed the planet where I was living,” he replied in equal disdain, but only enough to trap Xavier into a wall of guilt and obligation.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Lumiere—or, in his current form, the deepspace hunter, Xavier. “The HIS will be easy to convince. But what if she wakes up and wants to go back to the N109 Zone?”

Sylus felt a tug of deep sadness pulling at his heart. “She won’t. Her memories of me are gone for good.” 

~~

If this was his karma for hurting you, then it was definitely the worst kind. 

Sylus maintained a distant watch over you after you returned to Linkon, observing from afar as you rejoined your life with the support of the Hunter’s Association and former colleagues. Each day, he sent Mephisto to monitor your whereabouts, carefully tracking your interactions and daily activities. The mechanical crow often returned with glimpses of your life, which Sylus scrutinized with intense focus as if he were watching a movie. Each glimpse offered him a sense of relief, happiness even, at knowing how easy you were settling back into your old life. 

You had been officially dismissed from the Hunter’s Association due to a medical condition that rendered you unfit for duty, but they continued to cover your pension and provided free lodging—likely thanks to Xavier’s persuasive influence over the Association. The official story was that you had been sent on a dangerous mission where a Wanderer had placed you in a life-threatening predicament. The narrative praised your honor and dedication to the end. There was no mention of Sylus, Onychinus, or the N109 Zone. No hint of the life you had once led or the truth behind your memory erasure. 

Yet, in a bitter twist of irony, perhaps the story you were told may not actually be farther from the truth.

After all, Sylus was the dangerous monster that sent you to that life-and-death situation.

But at least now, you were well cared for. So much so that Sylus fought to contain his jealousy whenever Mephisto’s eyes relayed visions of you sharing lunch with a physician named Dr. Zayne. He struggled to mask his irritation as he saw the man drape an arm around your shoulders while guiding you out of the hospital or wrapping a scarf around your neck to keep you warm. He would often even drive you home and send you gifts that were masked as tokens of “recovery.”

Bullshit.

Sylus clenched his fist, his thoughts of jealousy consuming him. My girl, he thought in despair, my beautiful girl is cherished by other men, while he remained imprisoned in the desolate shadows of the N109 Zone, longing for you.

Eventually, Sylus felt an overwhelming urge to see you in person. After discovering that you had taken a job at a café in Bloomshore District, he convinced himself that observing you from a distance wouldn’t cause harm. He just wanted to be near you, to ensure your safety, and to protect you from any potential threats.

As he sat on a nearby bench, Luke joined him with a comment. “Boss, you said we needed to disappear from her life.”

Kieran, taking a seat on Sylus’s other side, added, “Do you think she’d recognize us if we walked into that café? If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a hard time with my orders ‘til she remembers us!”

“Ha ha! Let’s do that!” 

“Boss, let’s go!” 

“Leave her be.” Sylus took a deep breath, adjusting his sunglasses and setting aside his newspaper—part of his disguise—as he watched you through the café window. He noticed the subtle traces of familiarity in your actions, but the connections that once bound you were now distant memories. “...I’m just here to make sure no one’s bothering her.”

The truth was, he wrestled with his emotions each time he visited the café you were working at. He wanted to approach you, to speak to you, but he hesitated each time because of the fear of rejection and the pain of seeing you not remember him holding him back. There were so many what-ifs in his head that it drove him insane to think about. 

Because if anything, what if you were already seeing someone else? What if you were already in a relationship with that scumbag doctor from the Akso Hospital? 

It was petty jealousy that drove Sylus into stepping into the café. And the first time your eyes met since you resurrected, his heart initially froze, then raced uncontrollably. His heart swelled with hope as you looked up at him, but it was quickly replaced by the lack of recognition in your eyes the moment you spoke from the counter. 

“Hi. What can I get you?” you asked, treating him no differently than any other customer. 

Sylus was caught off-guard, but he knew he had to play the part. “I, uh, I’ll get an Americano. Large.” 

“Alright, sir. And your name, please?” you asked, following your routine without any real interest in the man before you. 

But in a way, this was a relief for Sylus. It confirmed that the protocore embedded in your head was functioning as intended, and that any dark memories from the past had been completely erased, even if it meant he was no longer part of your life. 

“Skye,” he said with a soft smile. “That’s my name.”

~~

There wasn’t a single day Sylus missed visiting the café. 

At first, he worried that his constant presence might seem odd, or that you might think of him as a stalker. But as the days passed, seeing you became an essential part of his routine. A day without catching a glimpse of you felt incomplete, almost maddening. Seeing you was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

Initially, you found his regular visits a bit strange, but gradually, the small interactions between you two evolved. Sylus began to appear at the café just when you needed him most—whether it was fixing a broken coffee machine, addressing rude customers, or simply offering a helping hand. These acts of kindness somehow transformed your view of him. What started as a customer-service relationship slowly became more personable, and in recent days, you often greeted him warmly and smiled whenever he walked in. If only you knew how badly it warmed his heart that he got to do things for you without making him feel like he was intruding in your life.

And to be honest, Sylus even felt like he might be—as Luke termed it—foolishly ”crushing” on you. 

“Who knew our boss-man could be a hopeless romantic~?”

There was a time when he visited the café, only to find out from your manager that you called in sick from work. Sylus knew where you lived, but going to your place uninvited was a different story. He had to put some boundaries no matter how worried he was for you. But that was when Mephisto became useful; the mechanical crow would simply fly off to your place and observe you from outside. Then, an idea to drop a box of medicines and chocolates at your balcony was something he had thought of at the last minute. 

Back in the N109 Zone, Sylus anxiously looked at his crow. “Are you sure she didn’t see you?” 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Did she eat the chocolates?” he asked, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t think he was holding.

“Caw! Caw! Caaaw!” Mephisto responded, fluttering its wings as if to reassure him.

~~

And then, that day happened. 

The day Sylus finally gathered the courage to ask you out, fate had other plans. And what began as a simple gesture to offer you a ride home during a stormy night quickly escalated into something far more intense.

Because one moment, he was offering you a ride. The next, he found himself in your bed, having the most passionate sex he had ever had with someone. He wasn’t even sure if he could call it that, because it felt more like he was making love to you, even if to you, he was probably just an attractive guy you unexpectedly hooked up with. 

So, he had to make himself known. He had to hear his real name leaving your lips. “Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curves, “Call me Sylus, kitten.” 

That night, he was an insatiable man who could only be satisfied by his woman. 

When he was buried far too deep inside you, he enjoyed the sight of ecstasy on your face and lavished at the sounds of your titillating moans with his every thrust. Not only did he miss the feeling of your walls tightening around his shaft, he also remembered how badly you used to want him to cum inside you. 

And so, he did just that. At his climax, he released hot spurts of seed into your womb, fulfilling a wish from the past that he used to deprive you of. 

But as the night progressed and the heat of the moment faded, the conversation shifted to a more profound and emotional terrain. Sylus wrestled with the urge to reveal the truth about his true identity—every painful detail and the secrets he kept from you. Yet, he knew that doing so would only complicate matters further and risk causing you more pain. The idea of hurting you again, after such a meaningful connection, was unbearable to him, especially now that you were still fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any moment. 

“Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?” 

“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he pressed, forcing you to believe the narrative with his rueful eyes staring back at you. “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.” 

“Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” He caressed your back as you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shook his head, crestfallen as he thought of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.” 

~~

Your relationship with Sylus remained unclear since that night. And it seemed as though the roles had reversed—now he was the one left wondering where he stood in your life. Because on the surface, it did seem like you were willing to work on building a relationship with him again, but every encounter you two had were always physical rather than emotional. 

Sylus found himself at your apartment frequently, three or more times a week, engaging in intense, passionate encounters. He had lost track of how many times you two could do it in a single night, exploring every possible position, in every corner of your home. He had tried his hardest to make you feel like he was the only man who was more familiar with every inch of your body than anyone else. Yet, despite the physical closeness, he sensed that the emotional barriers between you remained intact.

No matter how deeply intertwined your bodies became, the walls around your heart remained firmly in place, and Sylus knew that there was a part of you he still couldn’t reach.

That, and the fact that he was still seeing you interact a little too closely with that doctor from Akso. 

It somehow didn’t surprise you when Sylus’s car showed up outside the hospital to pick you up, and you got on with a guarded look. 

“How’s it for my kitten today?” Sylus asked as he secured your seatbelt, his lips brushing against yours in a quick peck. “You didn’t mention you’d be at the hospital.”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Oh, I just... didn’t think I needed to inform you of my whereabouts.”

Dammit. He knew you weren’t officially together, but it hurt more than he cared to admit. And it didn’t help that Sylus’s pride couldn’t naturally take it, so he probed more. “That doctor. He’s not your neurologist, is he? It seems a little inappropriate for him to always be around you like that.”

“Well, I’ve known Zayne for a long time,” you merely replied, eyes focused on the view outside rather than the driver of the car. “I’d also appreciate it if you'd be less territorial over me, Sylus. I know you said we have a history together, but I don’t remember a thing, so… I hope you won’t rush me.” 

The Sylus you knew back then would have been enraged. Who were you to order him around? Who were you to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do over someone he rightfully owned? But he was a changed man now, and it was all because of you. You were the beauty that tamed him into a powerless beast.

“I understand,” Sylus replied, swallowing his pride as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. “I apologize.”

He heard you sigh beside him, and a part of him wondered if it was out of sympathy. But before he could dwell on it, you spoke up, your tone more serious. “I was at the hospital today because I had a pregnancy scare.”

Sylus hit the brakes at the red light a bit too abruptly, his heart racing in excitement. “Are you?”

“No, thank God,” you breathed out in relief. “But... can you please stop doing it inside? I really don’t like it. It’s not smart for me to get pregnant by a man I barely know.”

His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t describe. The old you nearly begged him for a baby so he could be yours forever, but he was aware that this version of you right now was not the same. It never would be, and that was the price he had to pay for love. 

“I won’t do it again.” Once again, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry.” 

You still invited him to sleep at your apartment that night, and your reason being to work on the memories of him you had lost. Time and time again did Sylus tell you it was better you didn’t remember them, but he could also understand your dilemma when you told him that you always felt like a piece of you was missing ever since that “accident”. 

“And this ugly scar on my temple,” you pointed it out, settling into your side of the bed. “What kind of Wanderer did I fight for me to get a traumatic brain injury?”

Sylus placed a tender kiss on your scar. “Perhaps it was a heartless monster more terrifying than a Wanderer.” 

Like me. 

“Oh, well.” You pulled the sheets over your body, suggesting you two would have no action tonight. “Good night, Sylus.” 

“...Sleep tight, kitten.” 

You didn’t need to worry, though, because he wouldn’t have touched you even if you had explicitly asked him to. After hearing your words that afternoon—about not wanting to get pregnant by him and asking him to stop being so territorial—Sylus felt the need to pull back and be more cautious in his actions toward you. Your words had cut deep, but he understood you were only protecting yourself from a man who was, essentially, still a stranger to you.

And despite the sting, he had promised himself that he would be patient for the only woman he cared about.

~~

However, that same night was a different story. 

No, it was actually way past midnight when Sylus woke up from an agonizing scream that pierced the silence of the night, chilling him to the bone. Instinctively, his hand reached out to the side of the bed where you should have been, but the sheets were cold and empty. And then panic gripped him, forcing him to leap out of bed, his mind racing with a single horrifying thought: the protocore.

He darted outside of your bedroom and deeper into your apartment space, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The image of you, eyes wild and frenzied, ravaged by the effects of the protocore, haunted him.

What if it’s happening now? What if I lose her for good?

The horrifying thought of the protocore making you berserk like a wild Wanderer was always there.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw you on the kitchen floor, curled up, your body wracked with sobs. Relief washed over him to have found you, but it was fleeting, replaced by a deeper, more insidious fear. He tried to approach you cautiously, his voice soft as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Sweetie, are you okay?”

You flinched at his touch, and when you turned to face him, the sight made his blood run cold. Your eyes, usually so warm, were now wide and filled with tears—tears of terror, of anger. And in your trembling hand, you held a knife, its blade gleaming in the low light as you pointed it directly at his throat.

“Don’t come any closer!” you cried, your voice breaking at every word. Sylus froze, his breath catching in his throat as your sudden hostility surprised him. The knife’s tip hovered dangerously close to his skin, but it wasn’t the threat of violence that shook him—it was the raw, unfiltered pain in your eyes.

“Kitten, let’s talk about it calmly.” His voice was laced with cautiousness. 

“Stop calling me that!” You swallowed hard, your grip on the knife tightening. “You! I had a nightmare... about you. But it felt real, like a memory. You were torturing me at your base, laughing... and then, you shot me in the head.”

Sylus’s heart dropped into his stomach at hearing your altered memory. He felt his soul tear apart at the edges as he stared into your tear-streaked face. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real, kitten.”

But you weren’t listening. “But is it also not real? That you…” You uttered each word with a threatening voice, “are the boss of Onychinus?”

The question hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to form. He was trapped. The situation felt like a dead end—he could deny that your dream was a real memory, but admitting he was the leader of Onychinus would only validate that lie.

His silence alone was an answer to you. And your expression crumbled into one of betrayal at that. “You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

The anger in your voice enforced the stillness of Sylus’s breath. He knew he had no saving grace from this situation, but still, he took a step closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you—”

“Get out!” you screamed, the knife shaking in your hand. The sight of you so broken, so shattered, tore him apart. “Get the hell out of my sight! I don’t wanna see you ever again, you monster!”

But Sylus couldn’t leave—not like this, not when you were hurting because of him. So in his desperation, he lunged forward, grabbed your wrist, and forced the knife into his own chest. The sharp pain radiated through him as he plunged the blade in and stabbed himself repeatedly, his face twisted in agony, but not from the physical pain. This was nothing compared to the torment of knowing he was the source of your suffering. Again. 

“Even if I can’t die,” he choked out, his voice ragged as he tried to absorb the stinging ache in his chest, “I’ll take all of this pain away from you.”

His own blood soaked his fingers, staining your hands as he released his grip on the knife. It fell on the floor as he stepped back, his heart aching more than his wounds ever could, but those wounds easily healed. The pain of losing you again, on the other hand, would never heal.

He looked at you one last time, seeing his monstrous reflection from your frightened eyes, before turning away. Sylus walked out of the apartment with heavy steps, feeling his soul crushed from your antagonism. He knew he had lost you—perhaps forever—and the realization was more than he could bear.

~~

A haze of cigarette smoke and the clink of glasses filled the air of the bar. Sylus sat alone at the counter, his new glass of whiskey untouched as he stared blankly into the amber liquid. The sting of alcohol was nothing compared to the numbness that had settled in his heart after that agonizing night with you. Every swallow of the hard liquor was a desperate attempt to drown out the torment of recent events, but the pain lingered, and it was damn persistent and unforgiving.

As he poured himself another drink, the muffled sounds of conversation around him blended into a dull roar. That was until a familiar voice cut through the haze—someone he wished he hadn’t come across.

“Sylus?” 

He looked up, squinting against the dim light, to see Diana standing before him. He hadn’t seen him for the past year or so. And surely, her presence was unexpected, but he felt a sudden tinge of irritation at the sight of her. While her, she looked both apprehensive and determined, as if she had just made a hard decision to confront him. 

“H-How have you been?” she asked the question as a conversation starter, but Sylus could see the faint hint of unease in her eyes.

He then straightened up, and his posture became stiff and defensive. “I told you it’s not wise for us to cross paths,” he said curtly, his voice slurred from the alcohol but still holding a note of finality. He didn’t want to engage, not with her, not tonight.

On the one hand, Diana’s eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps. “I… I wanted to say sorry for what happened with Y/N. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you. Xavier… told me everything. About you and her.”

The apology was genuine, but the mention of your name was a fresh wound, and he felt the anger and sadness surge again, bubbling beneath his carefully maintained exterior. He wanted to lash out, to blame her for everything, but he swallowed the words, knowing it wouldn’t change a thing. In the end, this was all his doing and he couldn’t point fingers over the mess that he alone had created.

Sylus tried to stand up, the room spinning slightly as he steadied himself. “I’m leaving.”

But Diana stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to stop him. He simply brushed past her, his movements unsteady but undeniably distancing from her. The desire to remain composed was slipping away, replaced by the harsh reality he faced every day since you were taken from him.

He made his way to the exit, pushing through the bar’s heavy door with a forceful shove. Sylus’s next move was to lean against the wall outside as the cool winter breeze blew on his face. 

“Boss.” Kieran’s voice held a note of concern as he and his twin steadied Sylus by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “We’ll take you home.”

Luke glanced at his brother with a sad glint in his eyes before leading Sylus toward the car. “Maybe it’s time to let her go, boss.”

~~

February nights were the coldest. And it was supposedly the day for lovers, too. 

Unlike the couples that littered the riverside, Sylus stood alone, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. His dark coat offered little protection against the biting wind, but he stayed committed, his gaze fixed on the empty expanse before him. Four hours had passed since he had sent you the message, and each minute he stood there waiting for you felt like an eternity. The biting cold gnawed at him, but he was determined to wait even if he’d end up getting frostbite. It was the least he could do.

The frozen river’s surface glistened with a thousand points of light as the moon cast its silver glow over the landscape. And for the next thirty minutes that passed, he was still alone. 

She won’t be coming, said the voice in his head. Give up. 

As he prepared to leave, the ache of disappointment settled in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, standing cautiously across him, your eyes wide and filled with both curiosity and trepidation. The sight of you, despite waiting in the cold for hours, instantly warmed his freezing body. 

“Thank you for coming.” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “I won’t keep you long.” 

You maintained your distance, wary of his next move. “Why did you want to meet?” 

With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to peel the scarf from around your neck, and he felt a prick in his heart seeing you flinch. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He waited until you allowed him to proceed, his fingers brushing against your skin in a touch that was both gentle and reverent. You looked at him with confusion, the chilly air fought by the warmth of your breath. Sylus was just carefully replacing the scarf with the necklace he had given you long ago, the red Beryl crystal catching the light and sending soft, radiant glimmers into the night. 

Do you even recognize it? 

“I’m just returning a gift, kitten.”

As he fastened the clasp behind your neck, he pressed a tender kiss to the nape of your neck, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened. That small gesture of his was actually carried by the depth of his affection and regret. And, if you may, it was his silent apology for all that he did to you.

“Sylus…” 

His red eyes shimmered, intensified by the bloodshot whites. Sylus stared at your face with a mixture of love and ruefulness clouding his expression. He was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, with his voice breaking as he feathered the snowflakes that rested on your hair. “Take care of yourself. Always lock your doors at night and stay warm.” He took the scarf Zayne gave you, and pulled out a new one from his coat. It was a silly scarf with kitten prints all over it, that he soon carefully wrapped around your face and neck. “Wear that whenever you can.” 

Your own eyes were large and rimmed with tears as though you were also hurting inside. “Why are you saying this?” you asked, keeping the weakness inside. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.” 

Sylus’s gaze was suddenly directed back to the river, but it was only because he had to avoid looking at your eyes or he would lose it. “The Association managed to track me here in Linkon and they’re still after me. I just managed to escape, but I can’t stay here,” he explained calmly, “I only came back to this city because of you… But now, I have to disappear, so don’t worry about having me around. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and the tears that had been pooling your eyes finally spilled over. “Are you crazy?” you cried, seemingly unable to comprehend the words he was spewing. “You’re leaving me?”

Sylus’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, but he had to restrain any weakness by giving in. Instead, he reached out, and his hand trembled as he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.” He wanted to be the first one to say it this time. “Even if you regain all your memories of me—good or bad—I want you to know that I regret every pain I caused you. Even if you hate me, I’ll still love you. Today, tomorrow, and in our next lives.”

Sylus took one last, lingering look at you, his eyes filled with a sorrowful haze that nearly blinded his vision. He turned slowly, walking away from the river’s edge, with each step causing distance from the love he was leaving behind.

And you, you stood there, the necklace around your neck feeling heavy as you watched him disappear into the night. A surge of emotion overwhelmed you, and without thinking, you sprinted towards him. You took quick, long strides just to reach him, pulling him into a tight embrace, and crashing your lips against his in a bittersweet kiss.

Both of you cried as the kiss deepened, and you were encasing each other’s lips in a tight lock. The intensity of your emotions poured out in this poignant, intimate moment. And frankly, Sylus had never been this emotional. No one had ever seen this fragile side of him that he had always kept hidden. After all, what dominant, cruel boss of Onychinus would spill tears over a woman?

But they wouldn’t understand it. They never would. 

When you finally pulled away, your eyes were red and swollen from tears. “Be careful,” you sniffled, barely unable to catch the breath you needed for the next. “Keep in touch if you can. And when I’m ready, I’ll find you.”

Sylus’s eyes were also filled with tears, but he managed a forlorn smile as he nodded. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the heaviness of the moment. “I’ll wait,” he promised softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“Until we meet again.”

As he stepped back, the distance between you seemed impossibly vast, but the promise in your eyes and the love in his heart made the separation bearable, if only just. And when Sylus turned away, his heart was heavy but full of the hope that one day, you would find each other again. That one day, this distant love would become a cherished memory that you would look back on as you grow old and wrinkled, yet insurmountably happy and content with the life you had lived. With or without him.

PREVIOUS PART

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion was not a "corrupt" magistrate.

Hello again. Just more opinion about my favorite battle buddy. Warning, trigger words in use. Game spoilers.

It's not quite set in stone that Astarion really was a magistrate, but we are going to go with the idea he was for this thought pocket. Also this is just game as it is now info use.

I don't believe he was corrupt magistrate. There were a few things in the game that called that out, but one in particular really set it in stone for me.

His response to the Ansur lair puzzle regarding justice.

Astarion: “Mercy?! Please. Justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.”

This makes me think he was a bit of a hard ass as a magistrate, but not corrupt. Had he been dealing dirty in the background I really feel like this answer would have been more dismissive or flippant. But he is pretty intent that this is his stance. Very, iv said this a thousand times, type feel.

I think, he was more of a by the book, law is law type. You murder and rape you swing from the gallows. You steal from a shop keeper, you do time. Period.

My theory is, he got beat up because he wasn't lenient with a member of the Gur that was on trial.

"Leniency?! You have been found guilty of negligence resulting in the death of a innocent! You are owed nothing!"

Could you hear it?

"But he talks about being hedonistic and indulgent all the time. "

Yes, but most patriar level citizens were spoiled entitled brats that did what they desired. Have you talked to some of them in the upper city? Yeeesh.

Was he arrogant? Most likely. Prejudice? Obviously (insert gnomes here). But being a haughty jerk does not make one evil.

Sex, nudity, orgies, parties, over indulging etc are not taboo in Faerun. If everybody is consenting to be being naked in a fountain, hopefully in a private villa garden, its not a crime. He talks about that like its a memory, but I like to think his wine drunk giggly ass was actually in that fountain.

If you want to have a little rabbit hole fun, break down the name. Faerun = Fae Run = Run by the Fae. And last I checked, fairies were always down for some naked in the water time. I mean, come on, you can go to pound town with a bear. (No offence, Halsin.) You think they are going to draw the line at how may wieners you can have in the same pot? I think not.

I think the criminal behavior came after he was turned. Cazador may have been targeting him, but not because they were involved. But maybe due to him looking like his old master Vellioth? And he took advantage of a situation. Who knows, lots of ideas there.

"But he's always getting onto Tav for doing the "right" thing."

Yup, Tav is being too trusting and getting too involved with other peoples problems. Why is this an issue for Astarion? Kindness was what got him entombed for a year. He cared about that sweet mans life and was severally punished for it. Its akin to being mauled by a dog and then watching people just reach out a pet every one they see. The anxiety of that attack is still there and it paints every encounter with its opinion. Danger.

"He's not smart enough."

Oh I bet he is. You can be whip smart at a subject and socially akward at the same time. I'm very good at my job. I know it inside and out and can give you any detail, rule, configuration at the drop of a hat in the most professional and proficient way possible. But ask me to be eloquent in a social situation? HA! You are better off asking a rock to fart. Unrelated.

"But he wants to ascend, and that's evil."

That is more about who is is after years of torment and abuse. Not before.

I think the rogue role was adopted to stay alive while hunting. And what a gods awful fate to be turned into the thing you hated the most. A criminal.

I'm sure Caz was real tickled by that. Expletive Adjective.

[minecraftlover420]

Ragatha and Jax theory

(Please prove me wrong bc in my head they are married, but I have lowkey convinced myself something like this will happen)

I think in episodes 5 and 6 (or maybe even 7-9), Jax will be the cause of Ragatha's abstraction.

Evidence:

One of the cast is definitely going to abstract at some point, otherwise, they likely wouldn't have spent so much time covering it.

Ragatha wants to be liked by everyone - hence why she is such a people pleaser, yet it seems no one seems to pay as much mind to her as she would like, given she never seems like she needs it. ("I hate you, but I don't want you to hate me", "I don't think Pomni likes me after what happened yesterday" (even though she was left behind)... etc)

Kinger said in episode 3 that "the worst thing that can happen to anyone there is to feel like they are not wanted or loved", which I think Ragatha already feels this way to a certain extent.

I honestly do like Jax as a character, but I feel his growth is yet to come, considering he will do "something unforgivable" and gooseworx has said they apologize to bunnydoll shippers in advance. I think his unforgivable crime will be to push Ragatha over the edge and make her abstract (though I do think if this does happen, I think part of his punishment will be to live with the fact that he was responsible for her abstraction and will likely face isolation from the others, as it is canon no one likes him)

A few months ago, someone asked Gooseworx who, aside from Kinger, was most likely to go insane and they replied "you wouldn't believe me if I told you" and I am 100% convinced that is Ragatha. (Reasoning: Gangle is too obvious, Zooble is confirmed to be present in all episodes, and they don't seem like they're going insane- that leaves Pomni, Jax, and Ragatha. Since Pomni is the main character, I also don't think it will be her, and since Jax still has his "unforgivable" crime to commit, I don't think it is him either. But Ragatha being my choice is not by default - looking back at the Pilot episode, her explaining abstraction to Pomni felt like it was something she had almost experienced herself. She is also the one who has been there the longest after Kinger. She obviously has this front put up to cope with these fears, but how long can she actually put it up for, especially if Jax tears them down, I don't know, and I don't think it would take much.)

And then there's episode 4

I believe this episode has started to show the downfall of her character - from telling Gangle she is annoying and leading to her crash out, telling Jax she hates him, telling Zooble they are too uptight... I definitely think these things will come back to her when the effects wear off, and I don't think she will react positively to them, likely out of guilt, and Jax will likely use that to guilt her into thinking she's a bad person and people dislike her because of it now, which as stated before, is what leads someone to their breaking point, which would also make sense for her considering she is literally the biggest people pleaser in the group.

-

And that's all. I think I remained hopeful something could have happen up until today, but now I fear it will not. I really really hope this doesn't happen (but also, there might be a silver lining if it does because if Jax actually has some sort of feelings for her (which Gooseworx has said Jax likes a lot of things he would never admit) he will have to live with the guilt that he was the reason she's gone, and thats fine too cuz angst, considering based on the hints dropped by Gooseworx they both will likely not make it to the end)

But please, someone please prove me wrong because if this actually happens I will not be okay lol

*also Jax calling her Raggy had me WEAK - i will literally cry omg

[kick-a-long]

i find it so desperately sad that goyim generally would be so much less antisemitic if jews started physically fighting back with guns or sticks in every country. calling for the murder of muslims all over the world, if the jewish population was big enough to have large scary groups of crazy fringe fundamentalist synagogues all over the world, a billion strong, that preached murder and hate so goyim could look down on jews like some noble savage in need of assistance and western education and protection. so we could be reformed in obvious patronizing ways because there were so many of us that we had militant violent fringe extremists, like christians and muslims have, mixed in with the normal jews.

if jews didn't have such a reputation for success and intelligence maybe conspiracy theories would stop blaming us for controlling the world. if we felt less in danger maybe we wouldn't be so obsessed with long term survival.

is antisemitism some warped form of envy? maybe. what sucks is that jews are no better or worse than anyone else. some jews are brutes and some are the most wonderful people imaginable, just like any other group. what sucks is we don't all live up to the reputation of tactical geniuses and wizards with mind control magic. all of us jews are just tired and abused humans who have lived with 2000+ years of generational trauma and the endless fall out from a popular jewish book written 3000+ years ago describing the best practices of jewish culture. It has some great stories, histories, life advice, diet recommendations, hygiene, and rules about how to treat others.

is that such a crime?

trying to show a path forward? not demanding anyone else follow those rules but wanting to do our best to follow them anyway? how to live a good life that makes the world better and makes you proud to have been on earth for the time you were there? jews fail to do this all the time, just like everyone else. I fail all the time. why are people so obsessed with that? people say shylock is a stereotyped antisemitic character but,

"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."

so why do jews always have to be the better man? why do we have to apologize for being angry and sad and hating the people that attack us? that was written by Shakespeare, a christian in the 1600s who who had probably never met a jew, they were expelled from england, but imagined us as money lenders, the only profession left to jews at that time. even he saw the double standard. it makes a good point.

now, i don't want vengeance, i don't want violence, but i feel vengeful. i feel angry that i am unsafe because of play actors and terrorist supporters who want revenge for jews existing but scream bloody murder when jews refuse to dig their own graves, beg forgiveness for ever being born, and lay down in them to be mocked and pissed on and abused in the worst ways imaginable for the entertainment and conquest of it. i want peace with them. they are as human as i am, full of foibles and anger. i want nothing to do with them. i want them to never come near a jew again for the rest of time.

i am sad. all i want is to feel my feelings and advocate for what is the most ethical and practical work around to a world filled with unending suffering while i am still alive. i want them on thier side to live in the world they want and me on my side to live in the world i want. why don't these children of all ages, lost in delusions of fantastical battles and ultimate good and evil, see that? why can't I be a human first as well as a jew first? why do they ask me to pick? why am i not allowed to pick?

it's been almost a year. we're all so tired.

I'm going to a music festival. I'm trying to decide whether to wear a star. why is it dangerous to wear a star around my neck?

[erosia-rhodes]

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

[yuurei20]

Hello!

Bit of a dumb question

I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong

Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!

The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.

Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)

This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”

Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.

Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 

The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.

The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.

(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)

But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.

While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.

Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 

Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”

The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.

This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.

So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?

(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)

Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.

Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).

Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.

The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.

And his official, disliked food? Eel.

To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.

But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬

[rpmusingsnmore]

FANTASY SENTENCE STARTERS  ( CRIME )

feel  free  to  change  any  pronouns  or  subjects  (or  reverse by sending  '+ reverse' ).  this pack is themed around criminals,  whether from guard / prison perspective, victims,  passerby or the criminals themselves.  vague enough in some ways to be used in unique ways. requested by an anonymous!

❛  what do you mean,  he escaped?  ❜

❛  how did you make it out?  ❜

❛  now it's your turn.  unlock my cell.  ❜

❛  you can play the bait.  ❜

❛  of course i know the way out.  in theory.  ❜

❛  i've never been in such a big place.  they caught me pretty quickly.  ❜

❛  how was i supposed to know he was royalty?  ❜

❛  so i tried to pick - pocket the king  —  big deal!  ❜

❛  keep quiet.  turn out your pockets.  ❜

❛  say a word  &&  your life is over,  filth.  ❜

❛  i know who you are.  you stole from the castle.  ❜

❛  you're the escapee.  i can turn you in.  ❜

❛  don't say anything.  please.  ❜

❛  you have a long way to go before you earn my trust.  ❜

❛  give me your coin,  before i gut you.  ❜

❛  you made your loyalty clear.  ❜

❛  you could have gotten us killed!  ❜

❛  what was that in your pocket?  ❜

❛  did you steal that?  ❜

❛  it's an ambush,  i'm sure of it.  ❜

❛  keep to the shadows.  quietly  —  we'll get out of this.  ❜

❛  you are a liar  &&  a thief.  i don't trust you.  ❜

❛  how can i trust you when you do these things?  ❜

❛  you put everyone here in danger!  ❜

❛  hold your tongue or lose it.  ❜

❛  are you afraid?  ❜

❛  i could never trust a convicted criminal.  ❜

❛  you're making this a lot harder than it needs to be,  your grace.  ❜

❛  oh,  this?  no,  of course i did not take it.  i  ...  found it.  ❜

❛  a murder has been committed!  ❜

❛  what did you see?  did you see the traitor?  ❜

❛  tell me the truth.  was it you?  ❜

❛  we can't run from them forever.  ❜

❛  we will catch them.  whatever it takes.  ❜

❛  the king has been killed.  ❜

❛  the queen was murdered.  ❜

❛  a body has been discovered!  ❜

❛  did you kidnap a member of the royal family?!  ❜

❛  no,  you must go!  i will not be tied to your crimes!  ❜

❛  why can't you just follow the rules?  ❜

❛  please,  don't hurt me.  i will do whatever you ask.  ❜

❛  i can tell you what you want!  ❜

❛  please,  please don't kill him!  it wasn't him!  ❜

❛  midnight,  on the bridge.  come alone.  ❜

❛  leave a ransom note!  ❜

❛  are the ropes too tight?  ❜

❛  oh,  shut up.  you make a horrible hostage.  ❜

❛  i'll play the part of the guard,  you play the prisoner.  we need to get them out.  ❜

❛  i need to get out of here.  ❜

❛  are you joking?  why would you do that?  ❜

❛  you can't seriously expect me to willingly go with someone like you.  ❜

❛  you're a murderer!  ❜

❛  you're a thief!  ❜

❛  you're a con - artist!  ❜

❛  i can't believe i trusted you.  ❜

❛  i can't believe you fell for that.  ❜

❛  how stupid do you think i am?  ❜

❛  just how stupid can you be?  ❜

❛  it was so easy,  you never noticed a thing.  ❜

❛  shhh.  no one needs to know.  ❜

❛  c'mon.  you aren't going to turn me in.  ❜

❛  don't be rash.  there's still a way out.  ❜

❛  what do we do?  they're coming for us!  ❜

❛  they know it was you!  ❜

❛  you think you are invincible,  but they're going to catch you someday.  ❜

❛  go.  get out of here before i change my mind.  ❜

❛  i didn't see you.  ❜

❛  fine.  just go!  ❜

❛  they're coming from the south,  just so you know.  ❜

❛  don't thank me yet,  you still have to get away in full.  ❜

❛  they aren't going to let this go easily.  ❜

❛  good luck out there.  ❜

❛  wish me luck.  ❜

❛  i'll come back for you.  ❜

❛  i will get you out,  i swear it.  ❜

[anarcho-masochist]

I have so many thoughts on the United Healthcare thing.

As you know, I'm studying criminal justice and forensics. So hands down the most concerning thing is that they left things at the scene (water bottle especially...did they just panic? did they forget?). I see a lot of people talking about the pictures, but a moment on a low resolution security camera at that angle is not good enough for facial recognition at all, so if no one says they recognize them, or too many people do (I can think of easily 20-30 people who look similar enough to that) the pictures are not a big deal at all. But people underestimate how sensitive DNA testing is these days because of its (relatively) infrequent use. There is a backlog, and it's still somewhat expensive. So you can get away with minor crimes leaving DNA everywhere, but if it's a more serious case and it gets prioritized, there's a very high chance they'll find usable DNA. In this case, I'd say it's certain they will. I assume they knew that in theory, and it was simply a mistake. Along with this, though, you need known DNA to compare the unknown DNA to. So, as long as they can't narrow it down enough to suspect him and get a warrant to collect known DNA to compare to the DNA found at the scene (or if his DNA is already in a database-still would need to narrow it down), it doesn't hurt him. My worry is that people say they've seen someone who looks like him / they know him and then they'll have a suspect pool to check whether any of those people have left home (didn't show up to work, live alone and no one would've noticed, etc.). From there, gathering known DNA samples.

His initial plan, if it happened as law enforcement currently suspects, was a solid one. Bus was a good way to get there, the fake ID and burner phone, and keeping the hood and mask up (almost) the whole time. As was waiting for him to come out of the hotel and the route he used to escape (and likely change clothes in central park). It's simple but leaves few gaps. It makes it nearly impossible to ID him, in theory. In practice, the execution wasn't perfect, but that's to be expected due to the stress of the situation.

Major news sources have been talking about how law enforcement is trying to profile him based on everything. The most effective outcome that's likely to have is if it scares him into making a mistake.

Basically, unless he gets himself caught or is seen and it's called in and police can investigate it in time, he actually has good odds of getting away with it.

Ethically, I think this adds to a wonderful precedent and other people thinking of doing something like that should, if they decide to, mask up, and do not leave anything at the scene.

Also, there is a tip line, and police are already getting overwhelmed by the number of tips they're getting.

https://www.nytimes.com/live/2024/12/06/nyregion/unitedhealthcare-ceo-brian-thompson#hundreds-of-tips-are-coming-in-the-police-say-they-want-more

It's very, very easy to call in a tip. Even if you might be mistaken, it could be useful.

[ellecdc]

The Drink Snob (part 2)

Mafia AU!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 4.5k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: Brief description of blood, mention of crimes, past kidnapping, family dynamics, mention past death of a parent, pressure from friends to date, use of Y/N

Remus tried to ignore the snickering coming from the two men at the kitchen table as he scrubbed the blood from his hands, using the brush to get under his nails. 

“It’s not even that funny in theory, it’s just that it’s so un-Moony like that makes it funny.” James giggled, actually giggled, like a schoolgirl. Remus could kill him. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lily’s voice, authoritative and deep compared to James’ snickering, jumped in. “You’re telling me the plan was almost foiled because Remus got distracted flirting with a girl at the bar?” 

“Not only was the plan nearly foiled, Red,” Sirius offered between fits of laughter, “the dumb bloke nearly died.”

“I didn’t nearly die.” Remus spat under his breath. 

“His drink was spiked whilst he was busy ogling the bird – she had to stop him from taking a swig!” James completed, howling in laughter. 

Lily brought her hand up to her mouth in an ill attempt to hide her amusement as she turned her gaze to the guilty man. “Oh, Remus.” 

“We caught the bastard, didn’t we?” He barked, swatting James and Sirius on the back of their heads as he took a place at the kitchen table beside Harry. “Besides, James, you’re not supposed to refer to women as birds.” Remus enunciated, causing James to wince as he correctly presumed the whack of a tea towel was headed his way from his wife.

“Right you are, Remus. This is why you’re my favourite.” She said, winking at him. The other two men scoffed in mock outrage.

“But he almost blew the whole stake out!” James cried at the same time as Sirius countered with “I nearly blow all our missions because of my flirting, why am I not your favourite?” 

Lily rolled her eyes as a third voice popped up.

“You’re no one’s favourite Sirius, I can’t believe you still haven’t figured that out.” Regulus muttered as he placed a kiss to Lily’s head before moving to the table to place a matching one on James and Harry’s. 

Sirius scoffed, “and no kiss either. I see how it is.” He said as he crossed his arms. 

“Awe, Pads! If you wanted kisses, you only had to ask!” James hollered as he threw himself at his best friend and left loud, smacking kisses across his face.

“Ew! Get off of me! This is like incest!” Sirius screeched. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. “Wanting a kiss from his actual brother is fine but his friend giving him a kiss is incest?”

“Stop trying to figure Sirius out, Reg, there’s no logic.” Remus countered with a smile. 

Remus was glad, really, that life turned out the way it had for him. He wasn’t always, mind you; having been thrown into the world of underground crime at an early age after his father, with hopes for a political career, accidentally offended a well-known crime lord in Southern UK. In retaliation, Remus had been abducted and initiated into their mob at only twelve years old and was only reunited with his father and mother at fifteen once his dad had turned to crime after the police claimed there was ‘nothing they could do’ to bring their son back home. 

Then, when he was 17, he met James and Sirius. They both came from money, and both had very different experiences as a result. James was somewhat spoilt but extremely loving and eager to spread the wealth. Sirius, on the other hand, had pushed back against his birth family as hard as he could before he finally left to stay with the Potter’s full time.

His younger brother, Reg, followed a few years later, and they’ve been with James and his parents ever since. James met Lily studying in University; Reg became enamoured with her just as quickly, though much more quietly than James had, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

The options for Remus’ family were slim to none after moving from Wales to London in order for him to attend school. University had not been in the plans for him as the Lupin family came from almost nothing, but they had earned enough in the mob to secure him a spot anyhow. They had hoped to leave the lifestyle behind them, but their resume was lacking after spending years in crime. Eventually, it was Remus’ mother, Hope Lupin, who found Effie which introduced Remus and his father into the Potter Agency.

A legal corporation with less than legal methods; they liked to believe they were some of the good guys.

The term ‘good’ is used lightly, of course.

There’s crime, theft, assault, torture, and sometimes even death, but they don’t do it for the money or notoriety – not really. 

Potter & Son’s Corporations acts as the authority when the police lose control of the situation. So much of the crime that takes place is through drugs and laundering – the kinds of things that the police are more than happy to turn a blind eye to so long as they’re being paid.

But when police are being paid off, other crimes – such as trafficking – start happening, and the police often find that their hands are “tied”. 

So, Potter & Son’s deal with it, and it helps.

At least that’s what Remus tells himself. 

He understood why Sirius and James stayed. Neither had a choice really, much like himself, but Sirius made the choice of the lesser of two evils – chaotic good (Potter's) versus chaotic evil (The Black family). As for James; this was his family business. He was Potter & Son before it became Son’s to accommodate Sirius, and later Reg and finally Remus. This was James’ legacy, and he now had a wife, a boyfriend and a son to continue protecting, and he did that by staying. 

Remus stayed because, well, it’s all there really is for him. Any background-check a potential employer could run on him would not only take him out of the running so fast, but they’d also likely even report him. His mom and dad had their part – running one of the many restaurants in the city that acted as the front for Potter & Son’s. 

But Remus wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Not even the stranger – flustered, music theory, Disney quoting, sailor level swearing stranger that singlehandedly nearly killed him and then saved him within the span of two hours. 

She had been overwhelmingly distracting, and James was right; Remus was usually the one at attention always. He never got distracted on missions – that’s why he took the position in the bar to wait on the dirty fuck. James is overly friendly and likely to get distracted by any Tom, Dick or Nancy that walked through the door – and God forbid there’s a pub cat present. Sirius can’t stop flirting with anything with a heartbeat for more than a second, and he stands out a little too much anyway due to his last name.

Hence, Remus goes in.

Only to be utterly enchanted by a foreign PhD student whose nose was cold bitten red and her hair thoroughly crumpled from her obvious pulling. Remus tried to ignore her; he really did. He even thought he did a pretty good job when her damned pencil skirt rode up and exposed more of her tight-clad thighs as she sat on the barstool. He even ignored the way she played with her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger as she waited for the bartender to notice her.

But then she had to go and order a fucking negroni alongside a pint of beer. 

If she hadn’t looked like she tasted so sweet, Remus is sure he would have gagged outloud. 

And really, what is a proper Welsh bloke like him ought to do when he sees a crime against alcohol take place before his very eyes? By-stander he is not, good sir. 

But it didn’t matter. It had been too close. It was foolish. And dangerous. For both of them. 

He may not be able to save her from Gilderoy Lockhart, but he could save her from this. 

Regulus decided this was the perfect time to interrupt Remus’ inner ramblings. “So, when are you seeing her next?”

He stared at him dumbly. “Excuse me?”

“The girl, when are you seeing her next?” He clarified as he popped a cracker into his mouth.

“Come on, Moony, don’t tell me you didn’t close the deal!” Sirius commented from across the table.

“What? I- no. No, there was no deal to be closed, you prat.” Remus muttered for Sirius’ benefit. “It wasn’t like that.”

“‘It wasn’t like that’ he says, like he wasn’t wrapped around her little finger for two hours as she waxed poetic about the architecture of Manchester.” James sing songed.

“What” Remus sputtered, “she did not talk about Manchester architecture, James.”

“But you were wrapped around her finger?”

“Not that either!” He shouted. “Enough, it wasn’t like that, I’m not seeing her again. End of discussion.”

“Mm, kay, counter point: discussion not ended. What do you mean you’re not seeing her again?” Lily interjected. 

“I mean exactly that – I’m not seeing her again.”

“Rem,” Lily started softly, and he groaned knowing she was about to go all mama-bird on him. “When’s the last time you fancied someone like that? You’ve guffawed at everyone I’ve ever tried to set you up with.”

“Because they were all dull.” Remus muttered apparently not quietly enough as he was smacked up the back of his head.

“And you’ve never found yourself distracted on a job before. That has to mean something, right? Why not give it a shot?” She asked gently.

Remus chose to ignore the second part of her sentence altogether for the benefit of everyone. “Exactly, I’ve never been distracted on a job before. Something is clearly wrong with me, I think maybe we should all be a little bit more worried about that, hm?” 

Everyone rolled their eyes and turned back to their various tasks. For James, that meant holding a raspberry competition with his infant son, Reg and Sirius began rough housing which quickly turned into an actual knife fight, and Lily back to restocking the medicine cabinet. 

It was one job – I’m fine. I’ll likely never see her again. Remus thought to himself.

He tried not to let that thought upset him.

He failed.

Your encounter with The Man ™ as you’d started calling him in your head continued to bother you throughout the week. You thought you had been doing a pretty decent job keeping it from your thoughts: you guest lectured with no hiccups, your playing didn’t seem to be impacted and you kept up in orchestra well, and you even managed a facetime with your best friend Elle back home. 

Apparently zoning out in the middle of grading with your pen in your mouth was what finally gave you away.

“Miss. L/N?” Minerva called.

You quickly sat up straight. “Hm? I’m so sorry Professor, I-”

She waved you off with a kind smile. “My dear, I’ve told you to call me Minerva – as a PhD student, you’re more like my colleague than you are my student. I only meant to ask what has you so distracted. Are the first-year level quizzes on the basics of composition not riveting enough for you?” She asked gently, though her tone was often lost in her thick, stern sounding Scottish accent. 

“Sorry Pro- I mean, Minerva.” You caught yourself at her stern look. “I was just thinking that no one would know if I was missing.” 

Minerva dropped her pen and sat straight.

“My dear, what has you concerned. Has something-” she began to ask, but you cut her off.

“No, no. I’m fine, I just realized – if I go to a pub after school one day and something happens, no one will know to look for me. There’s no one at my apartment waiting for me at the end of the day, the landlord wouldn’t care until the end of the month when my rent was late, and even then, it’d be a while before she did anything about that. Students come and go from your life every day – if I wasn’t available to help grading or lecturing, you’d ask someone else. And that would be it. My friends back home would only realize I hadn’t been answering messages and would assume I’ve been busy.”

You looked up from the carpet where you had been zoned out. 

“And I don’t say any of that for sympathy. I just mean, well, someone ought to know – you know?”

Minerva considered your words before nodding slowly. 

“I’d notice. The second I had to settle for Mr. Lockhart’s subpar grading or lecturing.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the matriarch. 

“Put me down as your emergency contact.” She added.

“I’m sorry?”

“With the school. And at your apartment. In your phone too if you can. Put me as your emergency contact. I’ll know then if anything happens.” She stated plainly as if she hadn’t just offered you an actual lifeline in Europe when you were thousands of kilometers from anyone who gave a damn about you.

“Thank you, Minerva.” You said softly.

The corner of her mouth quirked up, but she never moved her gaze from her papers.

“You’re very welcome, Y/N.” 

You sat in your apartment – or you supposed you should call it a flat, you were in England after all – and watched traffic outside of the window while you replayed your conversation with Elle.

“I’m just worried about you is all.” She said.

You rolled your eyes as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder and loaded the washing machine. 

“Why?”

“Why? Because! You’re all alone out there in a tiny apartment in a big city where you don’t know anyone!”

“Elle, I don’t see how that’s any different than what I had been doing last year. I did the exact same thing in New York, and you didn’t seem this concerned then.” You chided.

“Well-” she started. “Well, that was different.”

“How?”

“Because you were at least on the same continent as me. It was maybe a three-hour flight versus an eight. What else do you want me to say, Y/N?”

You sighed and threw your head back.

“I don’t want you to say anything Elle, I just don’t understand why we’re having this conversation.”

“It’s been almost six months.”

You stopped and stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The six-month anniversary of your mom’s death was next week; you were well aware of that. It showed on your body, too, and you were glad Elle couldn’t see you now. You looked pale; your hair was dirty and piled messily on top of your head in a bun, though some locks were doing their damnedest to break free. Your clothes seemed to hang off your body in a way that hadn’t before as well; you made a mental note to figure that out at some point. 

“What about it?” You muttered, leaving the offending mirror behind you, and moving through your apartment (flat).

“Y/N/N, I just don’t think it’s healthy to be sitting in that apartment all alone. I mean, I know you haven’t been keeping in as much touch with the others, which is fair,” She emphasized the end as you began to defend yourself. “They don’t understand what it’s like to lose a parent or the intricacies of grad school, but still, it’s been noticed. And you haven’t dated since, what, Brian?”

“Brandon.” You corrected bitterly.

“Exactly, and how many years has that been?”

You moved your reading glasses to the top of your head and scrubbed your hand down your face. You loved Elle, you really did. But she was the kind of person to throw herself at life without self-reflection and that just wasn’t your style. She also lived by the motto that we were put on this earth to find our “other half”, and that all of lifes problems can be solved by finding someone to spend it with, which was another thing you just couldn’t get behind.

So, yes, it had been six years since your last relationship, and seeing as you weren’t the type to date around, you’d been single the entire time.

But you’ve been happy. 

You and your mom travelled a bit when she was still healthy. You attended Julliard to complete your master’s in music and spent time living in New York City. You played with the New York Philharmonic and in orchestra halls across North America. You went to the fucking Tony awards (as a seat filler, mind you, but still)!

“I just worry, Y/N. I mean, next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you’ve gotten yourself a cat or two!” She jested.

Your gaze shot to Huckleberry, the long-haired tom-cat you recently rescued from the local humane society, who was currently curled up on a throw blanket on your couch which you had yet to inform Elle about. You figured it could probably wait until your next chat with her.

“Don’t worry about me too much, Elle.” You sighed as you gave the feline a pat across the head.

“Someone has to.”

You fought the urge to groan – you knew she wasn’t trying, but this conversation was turning out to be more painful than you needed right now. The last thing you needed to be reminded of was how completely alone you were on this planet. If not for Elle and a few of your other mutual friends, you’d literally have Huckleberry and Minerva for company. And, God forbid, Gilderoy.

“I’ll talk to you later Elle.”

“Okay Y/N/N, be safe. Love you!”

“Love you.” You added before you hung up.

Part of you wondered if she was right about some things. Aren’t you meant to be meeting people? Making friends? That’s what people do when they relocate, right? 

You looked at your phone which sat on the couch behind you. It never lights up; no one’s looking for you. 

You didn’t much fancy downloading an app – it felt phony, like you were trying to sell yourself to someone. How else did people meet other people these days though?

School? Already there. Work?

Work.

I could get a job. 

You’ve been comfortable. Between funding from school and your mother’s life insurance, you hadn’t been too concerned for money though you had been living somewhat frugally. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have some pocket money, and maybe make a dent in your never-ending student loans. 

I'll get a job then. 

You’ve served at bars in Toronto and New York throughout school and worked as a waitress at different diners. Most people didn’t like working the service industry, but you didn’t much mind it; in cities that large, people are always in a hurry to get to somewhere else and don’t often stay long enough to really gather your interest. 

It’d be even better if I could find a job that involved music. 

Part of you still felt like an imposter. 

You’re working on your PhD, you studied music at Julliard, and played in world-renowned orchestras, but you still felt like you had no right holding a seat in the industry.

Fucking Gilderoy wasn’t helping that either. You thought darkly. 

“Right,” You told yourself aloud. “One thing at a time.”

And you looked up job opportunities online. 

The smell of garlic permeated Remus’ senses as he and Sirius stepped into his parent’s restaurant. 

Remus worked for a damn mob, yet somehow, his white-Welsh parents operating an Italian restaurant left him feeling dirty – though, his Da was always quick to state he was 37% Italian on his mother’s side, whatever that meant. 

He followed the sound of cursing and found his mum in her office. 

“Oi, mum, who has you so wound up? I want names and addresses.” Sirius said as he plopped himself down onto one of the chairs opposite of Hope Lupin’s desk and kicked his Doc Marten clad feet up onto it.

“Sirius, I love you, but it’ll be your name and address I give out if you don’t get your sodding feet of my desk.” Hope stated sweetly without looking up from the papers on her desk. “Hi, cariad’s.”

“Hey mum, what’re you working on?” Remus replied as he sat (properly) in the chair beside Sirius.

She sighed and turned to look at the two boys. “Well, you remember the issues we were having with our new hire last week?”

Sirius looked up from his phone at this. “Hot Stephanie?”

Hope rolled her eyes, “Yes, Stephanie. Well, we had to let her go.”

“Awe mum, I’m sorry. Do you need a hand around here until you find more help?” Remus asked quickly.

Hope turned a soft smile in her son’s direction, her green eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’d love having you around, cariad, I’m still recovering from you and James helping out last summer.”

Remus grimaced while Sirius barked a laugh. He and James had their strengths – but working the service industry apparently wasn’t one of them. 

“Besides, I’ve got a few good candidates here I think.” She said and gestured to a pile of CVs on her desk. “This lass sounds promising.”

“Yes, mummykins! Hire another hottie for us.” Sirius cheered. 

“That’s enough out of you.” Hope chided as she swatted him with her stack of resumes. “She’s got plenty of experience in restaurants and bars, and she may even be able to offer live music for us!”

“That’s sweet of you Hope, giving jobs to starving artists.” Sirius said looking back at his phone. 

“She did look a little peaky.” Hope admitted, “But I’m sure that’s on account of her recent move. She’s American.” 

“What?” Remus snapped.

His mum hummed. “Yup, she went to Julliard, served as a bartender and server in Toronto and New York pubs. She should work out really well!”

“Let me see this.” Remus muttered, snatching the CV unceremoniously from my mother’s hands.

Y/N L/N. University of Toronto / The Julliard School / Royal College of Music. Guest lecturer, experience in classical and contemporary performance and composition, teacher’s assistant, bartender, and server. The names of the various restaurants and bars you worked at were listed but they blurred in his vision.

“What has gotten into you, cariad.” Hope gently chided as she took the CV back from his hands. 

“What did she look like?” Remus spat.

“Pardon me?” 

Remus described you; he described your skin tone – a match. Your eyes? A match. Your hair colour and length? A match. 

“Shorter?”

Hope rolled her eyes. “Not everyone can be as tall as you and your father, Remus.”

“Mum, answer the question.”

She scoffed. “Yes, I suppose she was a little short.”

“You can’t hire her.”

“Excuse me?” She asked incredulously.

“Oh my God.” Sirius finally interjected, taking the CV from Hope’s hands. “Is this The Girl?”

“The girl?” She asked.

Remus snatched the CV back out of Sirius’ hands and placed it back in the pile onto his mum’s desk. 

“Who’s The Girl?” Hope asked, but it was obvious she was asking Sirius. 

“Oh, you should have seen it, Mum. We were on a stake out for one of McCormick’s crew at The Drunken Sailor, and Remus got all caught up chatting this pretty little lady at the bar. He didn’t even notice-” 

“I didn’t even notice that the bloke had come in until he went to leave.” Remus interrupted, not wanting to worry his mum by telling her how close he came to dying.

“Right...” Sirius continued, squinting his eyes at Remus. “Anyways, looks like you found The Girl who distracted our darling Remus here.”

Hope’s gaze was full of mirth as she turned to look at her son.

“So, you meet my dream employee at a bar one night and don’t even introduce me?”

“Mum, it wasn’t like that.” Remus whined, thoroughly annoyed by this conversation.

“Fine, but I’m sorry cariad, she’s the only one who applied who was worth my time, in fact, she’s likely overqualified. I’m arranging an interview.” 

Remus sighed in defeat. So much for keeping her out of this mess.

Continue to part three here 🥃

[wordsarelife]

⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 04: somebody’s gotta catch him out

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: bonding with hermione, theo tells you the truth and new theories come up..

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of murder, illegal activities, grooming

note: welcome back to the fourth episode of nbnc! i’m so excited to have you all back and to hear your opinions on this weeks episode!!

and because i’m not a monster and know that you guys are patiently waiting for the ball chapter, the next episode will be out either thursday or friday, depending on when i get to finish it!!

you had fallen asleep around 4 am, repeated thoughts about burbages murder and theo’s letter plaguing your mind. the night had been awful, sleep only ever granting you a few minutes of calmness, until you shot up, another thought in your head.

you still felt uneasy when you got dressed before sunrise. hermione was still asleep when you got up, which honestly said a lot. 

you didn’t want to risk, running into theo during breakfast, so you walked to the great hall as soon as it opened, ready for students to eat. you couldn’t concentrate. the loneliness of the morning only fueling your thoughts. 

some part of you just couldn’t believe theo really was the type of person to do something like that. he was so different from every slytherin you had ever met and him being the killer seemed so unlikely. 

at the same time many things made sense now. you thought about monday evening. theo had been late to dinner, just like professor burbage. they had strolled in only minutes apart. and while theo barely looked at her, professor burbage hadn’t been able to stop glancing at him. she had been nervous and scared. maybe theo had been the reason for that. 

he had been at the astronomy tower just minutes before you had found the womans body. he never offered a real explanation for his presence, only saying he hadn’t meant to disturb you. but what was the truth? could all of this really be coincidences? how many could there be before they stopped feeling like chance?

had you been so wrong about him? so terribly wrong? 

when you left the great hall, you almost ran into hermione, who silently commented you strange behaviour with a quirk of her brow. 

“i’m going to the library” you quickly muttered, not allowing her to say anything before you continued your fast pace. 

hermione stared after you in disbelief, before she abandoning her original plan for breakfast (which was nothing like her, because she was a great believer in breakfast being the most important meal of the day) and followed you. 

to both of your surprise you really ended up in the library. you had walked inside the room by accident, but quickly decided to do some research if you were there already. you had often enough watched hermione do it, it couldn’t be that hard. 

you only noticed her presence when you were in the third row. “hermione” you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest as you tried to calm the beat of your heart. 

hermione was not even fazed by your reaction. “you’re acting strange” she noted, a look of disbelief flying over you, as your hand wandered along the row of books in the shelf. “i have never seen you pick up a book from here that wasn’t fiction” 

“i—“ you tried answering something but were at a loss for words. 

“what’s going on?” hermione crossed her arms, sending you one of her typical strict looks. “the truth, please”

you sighed, knowing it was to no use to lie to her. “it’s theo” you said finally. 

hermione searched your face for a hint of emotion, for something to tell her what was bothering you about the boy. your expression remained stoic and unreadable, even for her.

you sighed, before you sat down at the desk in the middle of the two shelves. hermione followed your movement and sat down next to you. you turned your head to look at her. and then you told her absolutely everything. from what you had found out in burbages office (which hermione interrupted, lecturing you) to the kiss and finally the letter theo had send burbage. 

when you had finished, you were keeping your eyes on your fidgeting hands, ashamed and afraid of hermione’s reaction. there were a few seconds of silence, which you spend wondering how fast she would get up and tell your brother everything you had just admitted to her. 

instead, she grabbed your hands with her own, making you look up in surprise. 

“it’s going to be okay” she assured with a calm voice. she smiled at you softly. “you’re not alone” 

“but theo—” you muttered “what if he really..?” you couldn’t even say it. 

hermione shook her head. “he didn’t” 

“what?” you asked, confused, unsure if you had heard her right. “how can you be so sure?”

“well” hermione smiled mysteriously. she stood up and studied the shelf for a few seconds, before she grabbed a thick book, throwing it down between you. she began turning pages, while she explained. “the smell of the poison you described, you said it was a mix of burnt herbs and something metallic” 

she skipped the pages, past liquid luck and into the more advanced section. “i only ever encountered one potion that was described to smell like that. theo is absolutely smart enough to brew that, that’s for sure” your hope sank. “but” she noted, pressing her finger down on the page, seemingly having found what she was looking for. “mors fumes is a binding potion” she looked at you with a smile. 

“which means..?” you drawled, unsure what she was telling you. 

“it means that the potion binds itself to the person” she explained. “that timeframe has to be atleast six hours before the person drinks it to have any effect. it matters when she drank it, because she must’ve received the bottle atleast six hours before that. the poison works fast. burbage died around ten, right?”

you nodded and hermione’s smile grew even bigger. 

“that means she drank the wine at around half past ten.” she calculated in her head, before she continued. “so she received the bottle between three and half past four.”

“but couldn’t she have received it a day before or something? wouldn’t that work too? more than six hours?”

“no” hermione shook her head, before she aggressively pointed down on the page again. “mors fumes is shortlived. it can only survive in it’s measured timeframe. it could’ve been brewed whenever and over weeks or days, dependent on the wizards time to brew. but as soon as it’s hexed, the six hour timer starts. after that you only have four hours to use it until it’s worthless, so considering it still worked, it could’ve only been given to burbage during that timeframe”

“wow hermione” you almost couldn’t comprehend how your best friends mind worked so effortlessly and precisely. “that’s honestly amazing, but sadly i have no idea where theo was between three and half past four that day, so it changes nothing” you sank you head into your hands, frustration taking over. 

“of course you don’t” hermione muttered, rolling her eyes. “but i do”

“you do?” you were ready to jump out of your seat and plaster her face with kisses. “how?”

“how often did i tell you to visit the library?” hermione asked, raising her brows. 

“so theo was in the library? the whole time?” you asked hopefully. “and he didn’t leave for some time?”

“he was here the entire time i was” hermione nodded. “from two until half past five. he didn’t leave. he sat two seats from me, i would’ve noticed.”

“not even to, you know, go to the bathroom?”

“no” she shook her head. “he definetly drinks way too little, you should tell him that by the way” 

“oh, hermione” you almost cried, as you leaped over the table, throwing your arms around her body and messing up her curls. “you’re amazing, seriously” 

“i can’t let you run around suspecting the wrong people” she muttered into your hair. “and i can’t let you run around suspecting theo. he might be a slytherin, but he’s better than all of them”

“i know” you nodded, sitting back down and quickly freeing your face from a few stray tears. “but i’m still angry with him”

“of course” hermione nodded. “he should’ve told you about the letter and his whole relationship to burbage, considering his weird remarks. you definitely should ask him about that. just because he didn’t kill her doesn't mean he didn’t do anything wrong”

“yeah, i will” you nodded. she was right with everything she had said. you just didn’t know why theo felt the need to lie to you, if he hadn��t killed the professor. you had sworn to work together, that would only work as long as you could trust each other. 

“and all of this..” you muttered, pointing in the air between you. 

“stays between us” hermione assured. “no word to the boys, just like i promised, as long as you stay safe”

“thank you” you smiled, thanking her for nothing defined and everything all at once.

“always” hermione promised, before she got up, excusing herself to go to breakfast. despite having just eaten yourself, you decided to accompany her. confronting theo could wait a bit longer and hermione was glad about the company, was she always lonely breakfasting so early during the holidays. 

it was actually quite wholesome for hermione and you to get some time alone. you had the chance to catch up and discuss topics you normally wouldn’t when harry and ron were sitting with you. 

hermione was not in a rush like she usually was, enjoying your time together, and you felt a bit bad, that you had focused so much on theo and only relied on her when things got difficult. hermione assured you that you didn’t have to worry about it considering she was working most of the time and also most efficiently when she did it alone. 

still, she was there whenever you needed her and you promised the same. 

after an hour, you were joined by harry and Ron, who strolled into the hall behind neville and ginny, who were in deep conversation. you could see that harry was trying to catch what they were talking about, while ron talked your brother's ear off at the same time.

theo came to breakfast at nine and made obvious gestures for you to follow him outside around ten. you quickly excused yourself from the table and followed the boy. harry and ron reacted confused at your sudden urge to leave, while neville and ginny both waved at you and hermione send a smile.

ron quickly concentrated on his food again, but harry kept an eye on the entry of the hall, peeking around hermione, and saw you drag theodore nott down the hallway behind you. 

“she’s not honestly—“ he muttered, while he made a move to get up and follow you. hermione stopped him before he could do so. 

“calm down, harry” she said. “she has to ask him something about their final project, she couldn’t sleep last night, wondering if she had forgotten something important.” hermione effortlessly lied.

“hermione” harry muttered sternly. “there’s just been a murder and the slytherins—“

“—are just as suspicious as anybody else” hermione finished. “don’t get your knickers in a twist. she has her wand, she’s fine” 

“she could’ve at least discuss whatever she had to in here. nott was sitting at his table the entire time”

“discuss a mistake in a potions project next to draco malfoy, really harry?”

harry muttered something neither ron nor hermione could understand, before he picked up his toast and bit into the strawberry jam atop it. 

you had gripped theo’s arm, before he had been able to say something, dragging him down the hall behind you, until you reached an empty classroom. you let go of his arm, like it was on fire. 

“ow” theo muttered, rubbing his skin. “you have a hard grip, sparrow”

“no, don’t call me that” you crossed your arms, leaning your back against the wall. “not after you did nothing but lie to me”

“lie to you?” theo repeated confused. “i never—“ 

“sure you didn’t” you spat, throwing the letter, you had kept in your pocket, at him. 

all colour drained from theo’s face in a second. he didn’t even have to look at the paper, he knew what it was immediately, which did not help his case.

“i swear this isn’t what it looks like” he muttered, picking it up and scanning the lines of his own writing. 

“i bet it isn’t” you nodded sarcastically. “for a few hours i really thought you were the killer”

“i? i would never—“

“you can be glad hermione cleared that up or this conversation would be a lot more physical”

theo seemed like he had temporarily forgotten the topic of said conversation as he looked at you, a dirty smile on his face. 

you send him a deadpan look and he quickly remembered the severity of the situation. “oh” he muttered “you mean..”

“yeah” you nodded. “i would’ve bashed your head in”

theo’s eyes quickly fell on the paper again, not daring you to make your statement reality. 

“i’m ready for a good explanation” you encouraged, as he continued to stay quiet. 

“it’s not as easy” theo muttered, averting his eyes and trying to find a spot in the room he could focus on. 

“theo” you muttered, a bit softer now. “you threatened a teacher and told her to meet you on the evening of her murder, i don’t have to tell you how it looks” 

“yeah, i’m sorry.” theo whispered and if you weren’t mistaken, you noticed tears in his eyes. “i never meant to drag you into this”

“drag me into what?” you stepped closer, forcing him to look at you, tears now clearly rolling over his cheeks. “you’re scaring me, theo” 

maybe there really was a good explanation for all of this, but right now you just hoped theo hadn’t murder-in-the-orient-express-ed professor burbage.

“okay” he finally said. “i’ll tell you, everything, but you have to listen until the end”

you nodded, waiting for him to begin his story.

“it all began two years ago. that’s when i had to take muggle studies, because i had too few subjects. professor burbage was amazing. she was attentive to all of her students and over all a great teacher” he smiled upon the memory, before it quickly evolved into a frown. “but then she asked me to stay back one day after class. she made a few comments i found unsettling, but decided to forget about. maybe i had understood her wrong, she surely hadn’t meant it like that.”

you looked to the ground, not liking in which direction his story went. you felt sorry for the way you had treated him. for how you had spoken about burbage like she had been a saint, how judgemental you had been when theo had disagreed. 

“she passed me notes during class when no one was looking. she asked me to stay back more often. she made obvious advances. and she continued and didn’t stop until i couldn’t excuse it anymore. until i reached a point where i understood that i hadn’t been the one who had gotten the wrong idea, she was. she read into the things i did, not the other way around”

tears spilled over his cheeks quicker than before, but he did not falter, as he continued to speak, his voice trembling through both of your crying. 

“then, one day after class, she tried to kiss me” 

your breath hitched, waiting for him to continue. 

he shook his head. “i stopped her and rushed out of the room. i was too scared to tell on her, but i went to dumbledore and requested to drop the course because of personal reasons. i had enough luck never to be caught with her alone again for the rest of the year”

you thought about everything he had just told you. how someone you had respected was so different to the person she had shown everyone around her. you thought about theo, the fourteen year old version of him, who’s trust got betrayed so badly. fourteen year old theo, who had no one to tell about a teachers wrongdoing. fourteen year old theo, who had probably felt so alone. 

you stepped across the room and hugged him. the way he had calmed you, you were now trying to calm him. “you’re safe” you whispered softly. “you did nothing wrong, you didn’t deserve it”

you could feel him nod, as he buried his face in your hair. his body still spread warmth, it felt the same like yesterday in the closet, when your lips had connected. 

“i never told anyone” theo admitted. “you’re the first person”

“i’m sorry” you muttered, breaking the hug to look at him. “i shouldn't have made you”

“no” he shook his head. “i should’ve been honest from the beginning. i didn’t want anyone to know, i didn’t want you to know. i thought you might think i’m weak or less of a man”

“i would never think that, theo” you shook your head. “you’re not the person this information should damage. she was in the wrong, not you, you’re right the way that you are. i doesn’t matter what she did to you, it doesn’t change anything about you, you’re still the same to me”

theo nodded. “i wrote the letter out of frustration, not because i intended to kill her” he continued. “a few months ago dumbledore gave me something i had to deliver to burbage. when i came into her office, she was busy writing a note. i was able to read what she had written before she saw me”

“what was it?” you asked carefully. 

theo sighed, before he recalled the words from the top of his head. “your insights in class are so refreshing; i truly appreciate how you see things differently. can you stay behind after class today? i’d love to discuss some of your ideas further—just between us, of course. it’s important to me that this stays our little secret.”

“wow” you huffed disgusted. “what happened then?”

“i told her she should not be doing that” theo mumbled. “she agreed and i believed her. she had lied, i should’ve been more persistent”

“you’re not responsible for her actions, theo” 

“of course i am” he shook his head, fidgeting with your hand, he held in his own. “she tried the same with me, she was just able to do it again, because i never reported her, because i was too scared to admit what she had done to me” he breathed, his voice steady again. “and then after all, i just believed her, because it was easier than to admit that i had a responsibility for this child”

“it’s not your fault” you assured. he continued to shake his head. “it’s not your fault!” you repeated, louder, more firmly. 

“i only found out a few weeks ago that she hadn’t stopped like she had told me she would” theo said softly. “i don’t know who her victim was and it honestly didn’t matter, because then i wrote the letter. but the one you read wasn’t the first i sent. in the first i threatened to report her if she would not immediately resign and leave her position as a teacher, nothing happened so i send a second one, the letter you found. i gave her a last chance to do what i had told her, to resign and leave the castle as well as the poor kid she had used all this time. i didn’t want this to have any effect on them, so i only threatened to report and tell dumbledore about my own experience. i asked her to meet me so she could tell me about her decision"

“and?” you asked, interested to hear how the conversation had went. 

“she told me that she had resigned, like i had asked her” theo explained. “she asked me not to tell anyone about this and i agreed, because i honestly was not ready to tell someone myself. but i told her i would if i should find out about any of this happening again or if she would resume to a teaching position at a different school. she promised she wasn’t planning on doing that. and that was it. we split up and went to dinner”

“okay, but that would explain the note on the wine bottle burbage received: ‘consider this a parting gift’. that’s why she wasn’t suspicious before drinking it. it made perfect sense in the context of her resignation”

“yeah” theo nodded “i know that my involvement seems to make sense, y/n. i had reason enough to kill burbage, but i didn’t, please believe me, i’m not a bad person”

“you’re quite the opposite of a bad person, theodore nott” you shook your head, proudness flushing your whole body as you looked up at the brunette boy in front of you. “you did everything to make sure burbage could never hurt someone again. you had absolutely zero reason to kill her, considering she did everything you had asked her to and also, you possibly couldn’t have done it”

“i know, but how do you know that?” 

theo listened attentively as you told him everything hermione had told you. 

“that's incredible. and it reveals a time frame we can follow” he nodded. 

“exactly" you smiled, before your expression turned serious again "thank you for telling me all of this. i’m sorry for all of it, but i’m still glad you had a good reason to send such a letter”

“yeah, it probably looked pretty bad without context, now that i think about it” theo admitted. 

“but i do still have one question: was it really coincidence that you were at the astronomy tower too, right before burbage’s death?”

“yes and no” theo nodded. “it was a coincidence that i was there when she died, but i followed you on purpose”

“you followed me on purpose?” you repeated confused “but why?”

“because i wanted to talk to you” theo admitted, his voice steady yet vulnerable “i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now”

you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued “really? about what?”

he hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes as if weighing his words. “i’ve fancied you for a long time, you know?”

your heart skipped a beat, surprise flooding through you. “you fancied me? me?”

theo laughed, the sheer disbelief on your face amusing him. “how couldn’t i?” he replied with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling “you’re smart, you’re fierce, and you don’t take any nonsense from anyone. plus, the way you stand up for your friends? it’s impossible not to notice. it’s honestly quite entertaining to watch draco and you fight”

you grinned, somewhat proud someone had taken an interest in your debates with malfoy. you always made sure to be ready to break him. “who do you think wins?” you asked, a brow quirked. 

“you, of course” theo smirked. “draco is not half as good. it’s honestly amazing how good you are at telling him off” 

“you’re making me blush” you smiled, as you stared up at him. “i always liked you most, you know? out of all of them. you were so nice every time i encountered you and i think i really took a liking to you during our project”

now it was theo’s turn to smile proudly. “so, are we good again?” he asked softly, waiting for you to make a decision. 

you nodded, mirroring his expression. “we are” you assured, before you reached for his neck, connecting you lips with his for a short peck. 

when you pulled back, theo grinned at you with a lopsided grin, his worries fading away as his eyes wandered over your face. 

the next thing to do, you had decided, was to wait for mattheo’s invitation to reveal the infos you needed to find the masquerade ball of the nocturne society. someone there would probably know more. 

that led to your next problem: the right clothing. theo suggested to make a trip to hogsmeade, which you quickly noticed to be impossible because of the storm. that’s when you remembered the convenience of the room of requirement. you had always used it the year before, so it had become manageable for you to find. 

theo walked next to you through the halls cluelessly, ready to follow your lead. 

“so, motives” you muttered, looking at him. “who would’ve had an interest in killing burbage?”

“someone who was after the artifact?” theo suggested. 

“not impossible” you shrugged. “maybe that was the only way to steal it. maybe she had hexed it and there was no other way than to kill her.”

“but that would mean that whoever was trying to get access to the artifact also knew about burbage’s resignation” theo noted, he thought for a few seconds, before he added. “so far, the only people who know about it are you and me and of course dumbledore and maybe also mcgonagall.”

“i don’t think that will lead us far, theo” you remarked softly. “we don’t know who burbage might’ve told. she was thinking about if for some time. i mean, remember your first letter? that was months ago. she could’ve told people as far as we know”

“you’re right” theo nodded. “so back to the beginning, if we exclude the artifact for now, what else could’ve been a reason to kill her?”

silence errupted between you as both of you thought about the question. 

your breath hitched. “what if it’s unrelated? what if someone found out?”

“about?” theo quirked a brow, not able to follow your stream of thoughts. 

“her inappropriate relation to a student” you explained. “i mean think about it. you found out, how unlikely is it that someone else did?”

“not unlikely at all” theo nodded. “it wasn’t even hard to uncover. i mean, if someone was just a student in her class, they could’ve easily picked up something”

“i’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, so tell me if we should stop talking about it, but—“

“it’s fine, sparrow” theo said honestly. “i can take it”

“okay” you nodded, before you continued. “if we assume that she had a preferred age, fourteen, like you were, then maybe the killer is not an unrelated student, maybe it’s someone who didn’t witness the relationship first hand during class, but someone who knew her victim” you explained. “someone, who would go to lengths to protect that kid, someone who wanted to take revenge”

“a sibling” theo breathed. 

“exactly” you nodded. “i would kill for my brother, no questions asked. we just have to find someone who would do the same”

you both dwelled on the thought as you walked around a corner, the doors of the room of requirement welcoming you as if they had waited ages for your arrival. 

“what about this?” you held a blue dress against your body, twirling from side to side for theo to inspect it. 

“beautiful” theo complimented, before he scrunched his nose. “but too blue. most members of the society will be slytherins, remember?”

“how can you be so sure about that?” you questioned, putting the dress to the side and picking up a dark green, almost black mask and holding it in front of your eyes. 

“well, it’s illegal and dangerous and—“ theo grinned “—have i already said illegal?” 

you shook your head, throwing a similiar mask like yours in his direction. theo caught the thing with ease, wiggling his eyesbrows as he held it in front of his eyes. 

“you recognize me, sparrow?” 

“your smile is uncanny” you giggled, holding a hand up to hide his mouth. “maybe you should just wear a whole bag” 

“well, your options don’t seem the most practical to guarantee a fast escape. i mean can you even run in these shoes?”

“i’m not running” you crossed your arms, raising your nose. “i’m a lady, theo” 

“of course” theo shook his head, before his gaze dropped to a beautiful emerald green ballgown underneath part of his tuxedo. “wait” he muttered, holding the dress up against your body. “this is the one”

your smile grew bigger as you took in the gorgeous dress. it was made up of a thin lace fabric, adorned with highlights of shimmering ivy. as you put it on, it was clothing your body beautifully, fitting like it had been made for you (that were the perks regarding magical clothing; they fully took on the form of the person wearing them, clinging to every curve of your body). 

“wow” theo muttered when you stepped around the shelf you had changed behind.

your cheeks grew rosy, glancing up and down his body, admiring how well the tuxedo fit him. “you look very much wow yourself, mr nott” 

he laughed, shaking his head like he wasn’t believing one word of what you were saying. “it’s time” he grabbed both of your masks and the note mattheo had given you, that was now slowly revealing letters. one after the other until more and more words were forming. 

moonlit atrium, it read, portrait of the lonely witches daughter, in the dungeon

luckily, theo read the words with a hint of recognition in his eyes. you would’ve been completely lost without him, probably strolling through the halls, desperately searching for a portrait admist thousands. you would’ve never made it in time. 

“come on, my lady” he watched you fasten your mask around your head, looking into the corridor to check for people, before he took your hand in his, leading you to the nereast stairs down to the dungeon. 

the air grew cold around you as you walked down, the chilly setting of the hogwarts dungeon making it's presence known and casting your body in goosebumps. theo didn’t let go of your hand for one second, squeezing it to reassure you anytime you would cross a dark hallway that send shivers down your spine. 

finally, theo started walking slower in a particularly dark corridor. his eyes wandered along the walls, searching for the familiar portrait, before his gaze locked onto the artwork. 

you were searching the wall opposite from theo, when a hand reached out and touched your arm. “did you—ahh!” you screeched, jumping back when the person the hand belonged to was not theo, but someone else. 

the unknown person was a man, well, more a boy, blonde hair peeking out behind his mask. he wore an even darker tuxedo than theo, the black on his body almost making him invisble against the dark of the corridor. 

theo behind you, spun around, ready to meet your attackers face with his fist. before he hit him, you stopped the movement, pulling the dark haired boy back by the arm. “malfoy” you said simply, sharing the gathered piece of information with theo, who relaxed immediately. 

“potter” draco malfoy greeted almost bored. he moved the mask from his face, revealing his ice blue eyes staring at you and theo in displasure. “theodore”

“draco” theo breathed. “i almost killed you”

“sure” malfoy rolled his eyes, not believing it for a second. “luckily potter here kept you from murdering any more people”

“haha” theo nodded. “very funny” 

malfoy shrugged, not caring one bit about his unsolicited joke against theo. rather than on his friend, malfoys gaze was fixated on you. you lifted your mask too, deeming it weird to act like your identities hadn’t been revealed. 

“i should’ve known you were involved in this club” theo crossed his arms, making not even the slightest move to take off his mask too. 

“well, theodore, i’d say it is in my blood” malfoy took his eyes from you for a mere second, before his unnerving gaze returned. “unlike you, halfblood”

“careful” theo warned, voice filled with a sharp edge. 

malfoy’s gaze flicked back to him, eyes narrowing with an unspoken challenge. he tilted his head slightly, the question clear in his expression, almost daring theo: have you forgotten where you belong?

“it’s alright” you mumbled, not even moved by the blonde boy’s words. he had insulted you and your friends too often for you to still care about it, unlike harry, who almost enjoyed throwing a tantrum. maybe that was the reason malfoy hated you a little less than your brother. you knew how to behave and that was something he respected.  “what do you want?”

“i didn’t come to murder you, if that’s what you’re thinking” malfoy replied, his tone almost playful as he hinted at your reaction of panic at his sudden presence “nor to give you more proof. that’s not why i’m here.”

“then what?” theo snapped impatiently, eyes still on malfoy. “what’s so important that you had to deliver it in person?”

draco paused, his gaze darkening as his playful demeanor faded. his next words were spoken softly, almost ominously. “a warning.”

the air in the corridor grew thick, the weight of his words pressing down on you. theo stiffened beside you, his guard going back up as malfoy’s expression turned deadly serious.

“a warning about what?” you asked, your heart pounding now, knowing that this wasn’t just another one of malfoy’s games.

malfoy stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “someone’s watching you. and it’s not just the castle’s usual suspects.” he hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, as if deciding whether to reveal more. then, quietly, he added, “you're not safe. neither of you.”

before you could question him further, malfoy backed into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

“malfoy!” theo called after him, but it was too late—he was gone.

the tension in the air remained, your heart still racing. you exchanged a glance with theo, both of you realizing that whatever danger was lurking, it wasn’t just in the form of cryptic messages or secret clubs. it was something much darker.

and now, someone knew you were onto them.

go to the next part

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[mariacallous]

The great fault of the global left is not that it supports Hamas. For how could Western left-wing movements or left-inclining charities or academic bodies truly support Hamas if they were serious about their politics?

No one outside the most reactionary quarters of Islam shares Hamas’s aim of forcing the peoples of the world to accept “the sovereignty of Islam” or face “carnage, displacement and terror” if they refuse.  You cannot be a progressive and campaign for a state that executes gay men. An American left, which includes in its ranks the Queers for Palestine campaign group, cannot seriously endorse lethal homophobia in its own country.  They will turn a blind eye in Palestine, as we shall see, but not in New York or Chicago.

Finally, no left organisation proudly honours the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and the fascist tradition that Hamas embraces with such sinister gusto, although in a sign of a decay that has been building on the left for more than a generation, many will promulgate left-wing conspiracy theories which are as insane as their fascist counterparts.

No, the problem with the global left is that it is not serious about politics. It “fellow travels” with radical Islam rather than supports it. The concept of “fellow travelling,” with its suggestions of tourism, dilettantism, and privilege, is well worth reviving. The phrase comes from the Bolsheviks. After the Russian Revolution of 1917 they looked with appreciation on Westerners who supported them without ever endorsing communism. Artists, writers, and academics who were disgusted with the West, often for good reason, I should add, were quite happy to justify Soviet communism and cover up its crimes without ever becoming communists themselves.

Leon Trotsky put it best when he said of fellow travellers that the question was always “how far would they go”? As long as they did not have live under the control of communists in the 1920s or the control of Islamists in the 2020s, the answer appears to be: a very long way indeed

W.H. Auden said, as he looked back with some contempt on his fellow travelling past, if Britain or the United States or any country he and his friends knew were taken over by a “successful communist revolution with the same phenomena of terror, purges, censorship etc., we would have screamed our heads off”. But as communism happened in backward Russia “a semi-barbarous country which had experienced neither the Renaissance nor the Enlightenment”, they could ignore its crimes in the interests of seeing the capitalist enemy defeated.

You see the same pattern of lies and indulgence in the case of Hamas. Journalists  have produced a multitude of examples of fellow travelling since 7 October but let one meeting of the Oakland City Council in the Bay area of San Francisco speak for them all.

A council member wanted the council to pass a motion that condemned the killings and hostage-taking by Hamas, who, in case we forget, prompted the war that has devastated Gaza, by massacring Israeli civilians. The motion got nowhere

According to one speaker Hamas did not massacre anyone, a modern variant of Holocaust denial that is becoming endemic. “There have not been beheadings of babies and rapings,” a woman said at the meeting. “Israel murdered their own people on October 7.”  Another woman said that calling Hamas a terrorist organization is “ridiculous, racist and plays into the genocidal propaganda that is flooding our media.” Hamas was the “armed wing of the unified Palestinian resistance” , said a third who clearly had no knowledge of the civil war between Hamas and Fatah.

“To condemn Hamas was very anti-Arab racist” cried a fourth. The meeting returned to modern Holocaust denial as a new speaker said the Israeli Defence Forces had murdered their own people and it was “bald propaganda” to suggest otherwise. A man intervened to shout that “to hear them complain about Hamas violence is like listening to a wifebeater complain when his wife finally stands up and fights back”.  

Anyone who contradicted him was a “white supremacist.”

Of course they were.

Now if theocrats were to establish an Islamist tyranny in the Bay area, I am sure every single speaker would scream their heads off, as Auden predicted. They can turn into fellow travellers as there is no more of a prospect of theocracy threatening them than there was of communism threatening readers of the left-wing press in the UK and US in the 1930s.

A serious left would have plenty to complain about. Consider the Israeli position after the breakdown of the ceasefire. The Israeli state is led by Benjamin Netanyahu, a catastrophe of a prime minister, who left his people exposed to the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. His war aims are contradictory: you cannot both wipe out Hamas and free the hostages.

Worst of all, the Israeli defence forces are to move to the southern Gaza strip where two million Palestinians are crammed. Just war doctrine holds that a military action must have a reasonable chance of success if the suffering is to be permitted. How, reasonably, can the Israeli army expect to find guerilla fighters hiding in a terrified population?  According to leaks in the Israeli media, Anthony Blinken, the US Secretary of state, was warning the Israeli government that, “You can’t operate in southern Gaza in the way you did in the north. There are two million Palestinians there.” But he was ignored.  A radical movement worth having would surely be putting pressure on the Biden administration to force Israel to listen to its concerns.

The radical movement we have will not engage in practical politics because compromise is anathema to it. Any honest account of the war would have to admit that Israel has the right to defend itself against attack. It is just that the military position it finds itself in now may well make its war aims impossible and therefore immoral.

You can see why practical politics has no appeal. Where is the violent satisfaction in sober analysis,  the drama in compromise? Where is the Manichean distinction between the absolute good of the Palestinians and the pure evil of Israel?  

Meanwhile, ever since the Israeli victory in the Six Day War of 1967, you have been able to say that Jewish settler sites on the West Bank were placed there deliberately to make a peace settlement impossible, and ensure that Israel controlled all the territory from “the river to the sea” forever.

A serious left might try to revive a two-state solution by building an international consensus that the settlements must go. Once again, however, that is too tame an aim. For the fellow traveller watching Palestine from a safe distance, satisfaction comes only by embracing Hamas’s call for the destruction of Israel. Some progressives try to dress up the urge to destroy by pretending that Jews and Palestinians will go on to live together in some happy-clappy, multi-ethnic and multi-confessional state. But most must know they are advocating a war to the death. What makes their position so disreputable is that, if they thought about it calmly, they would know it would be a war that only Israel could win. It is the Israelis who have the nuclear weapons, after all.

The worst of the global left is dilettantish. It advocates a maximalist position which has a minimal chance of success - just for the thrill of it. David Caute, a historian of fellow travelling with Stalin and communism said that the endorsement of communism by fellow travelling intellectuals in the West “deepened the despair” of Soviet intellectuals. “In their darkest hours they heard themselves condemned by their own kind”.

The 2020s are not the 1930s. I am sure that, if I were a Palestinian in Gaza, my sole concern would be the removal of Israeli forces that threatened me and my family. I would either not care about demonstrations in the West or I would receive some comfort from the knowledge that people all over the world were protesting on my behalf.

Nevertheless, a kind of betrayal is still at work. By inflaming and amplifying the worst elements in Palestine the global left is giving comfort to the worst elements in Israel, which are equally determined to make a compromise impossible.

The New Statesman made that point well when it ran a piece by Celeste Marcus.   She came from the Zionist far right, and was taught doctrines that dehumanised Palestinians. She grew up and grew away from the prejudices of her childhood and became a liberal. But after she moved into her new world, she “recognised immediately that progressive leftists feel about Israelis the way radical Zionists feel about Palestinians: these are not real people.”

The result is that for all its power on the streets and in academia the global left is almost an irrelevance.

“To influence Israel,” she writes, “one must be willing to recognise it. Since leftist leaders cannot bother to do this, they cannot be of real use to Palestinians. This is a betrayal of their own cause.”

The dilettantism of fellow travelling always ends in betrayal and denial for the reason Auden gave: terror is always more tolerable when it happens far, far away.

[muzetrigger]

Nevermore Theory: It’s not about “The Tell-Tale Heart”

Okay, it’s time for another Friday night rant.

Recently, I’ve been coming across some excellent thoughts and predictions about Season 2, so now I’m ready to throw own my hat in the Nevermore Theory ring.

In Nevermore, almost every character is based off of one of Poe’s works. Lenore is from the poem “Lenore”, Morella is from the short story “Morella”, Prospero is from “The Masque of Red Death”, etc. There are also some characters that draw on more than one of Poe’s works, most notably Duke who takes inspiration from “The Cask of Amontillado” (Fortunato) and “The Duc de L’Omellete” (Duke).

Now, Annabel Lee is obviously based on the poem “Annabel Lee”, which the webcomic even opens with, but @moxiepower2 and @takescrackseriously have also made the connection between Annabel Lee and “The Tell-Tale Heart” and theorized that Annabel might also be a dual-themed character like Duke. I personally find that reading very convincing too!

(I mean c’mon, her spectre has a giant heart-shaped hole in it, the logo for the WEBTOON is beating heart with wings, it’s one of Poe’s most famous works, so on and so forth.)

But today, I’m going to stick my neck out and say, it’s NOT about “The Tell-Tale Heart” (at least not entirely. Annabel Lee could be based on even more than two works!).

I think Annabel Lee’s character points to another of Poe’s stories that lines up really well with the direction of Nevermore as a whole:

That’s right, it’s time to talk about “The Pit and the Pendulum”.

First, I’m going to need to explain this leap in logic, because it’s definitely not as clear as Annabel’s heart motif. Let’s start with the visuals.

Yes, Annabel Lee and Nevermore in general have a strong heart motif, but isn’t it a little odd that Annabel’s heart isn’t totally empty?

It’s a great visual focus for her character design, but that shape is awfully familiar, and it swings around an awful lot like a pendulum, doesn’t it?

And we know that Annabel (as an actual ghost-type spectre) can control the pendulum.

AND Annabel Lee gives the pendulum back to Lenore, with a lock of her hair tied around it, literally binding herself to the tool.

That’s… an awful lot of interaction with an item that is unrelated to her inspiration poem AND has served exactly zero purpose in the story so far. There HAS to be a reason Red and Flynn keep bringing this damn thing up because they play the long con with their foreshadowing (Dirt on Ada’s hands, Annabel Lee’s panic attack, Lenore taking Annabel’s blot, the gun having no bullets at the very beginning of the webcomic).

So now, I want to delve further into the actual text of “The Pit and the Pendulum” because it mirrors a lot what we’ve seen so far in season 1 and could be a good start for predicting what comes next in season 2!

For those who haven’t read “The Pit and the Pendulum” it follows an unnamed narrator who has been arrested by the Spanish Inquisition, pronounced guilty to some crime (it could have been anything, that’s just how the Inquisition rolls), and is subjected to all kinds of unusual torture methods before being rescued by the French army.

What I find so interesting about this story though is that its structure loosely matches the trials that the Deans have set up at Nevermore Academy.

For instance after swooning at his sentencing, the narrator wakes up in a pitch-black room and tries to figure out the shape of his prison by making a circuit. He finds that it’s around a hundred paces, but because of the “many angles in the wall” he can “form no guess at the shape of the vault”. In reality however, the room is perfectly square and only half the number of steps in circuit.

How did the narrator make such a big error in estimating the size of the room? Because he passed out right after missing the marker he had been using to keep track of his location, thus making two laps instead of one.

Now let’s compare it with the first obstacle for Nevermore students, the Labyrinth. Students are thrust into the maze without any knowledge of how to manifest (Annabel only knowing how to because of the Deans making a surprise appearance in class). So metaphorically, they’re also in the dark, and as Lenore and Duke find out as soon as they enter the maze, the labyrinth’s geometry also seems to shift.

Most convincingly (in my opinion), Lenore also looses track of herself during the Dementophobia trial, just like how the Pendulum narrator faints, which is one of the main reasons the misfit trio almost fail.

That near failure also mimics what happens next in the short story, the narrator trips and narrowly avoids falling into a giant pit (hence the title).

That really ticks off the Spanish Inquisition, just like how Lenore pisses off the Deans by surviving, and so the Inquisition does what it does best, and devises a new torture method. This time, the narrator awakens to find himself strapped down to a plank and gazing up at a figure of Kronos, only instead of Father Time wielding a scythe, he’s wielding a massive bladed pendulum (there’s the second half of the title, you’re welcome).

I find this image very telling because it’s supposed to relay the message that the narrator’s death is inevitable. You can’t fight the passage of time, and it doesn’t get less subtle than the god of time killing you with a clock part.

Similarly, ringing the bell in the widow’s watch is supposed to be an impossible task, meant mainly to give the students who have manifested a chance to flex their powers. The Deans admit as much:

But back to the short story, the narrator doesn’t exactly realize his predicament at first. He just thinks it’s kind of an interesting change of scenery and he’s more worried about the fact that his captors have provided him with “meat pungently seasoned” and no water to quench his thirst, which he figures is the real torture method. Oh and the rats. They’re pretty scary too, especially when it occurs to him that he’s definitely not the first person to be shoved in this room, and those rats have to have been eating something.

Eventually, he does notice the pendulum slowly lowering and spends the next *checks notes* 9 paragraphs alternating between despair, apathy, and frenzy. (There’s actually quite a lot to dissect here with regards to Nevermore’s treatment of madness, but let’s save that for later.)

Then he gets a bright idea and rubs spicy meat all over his bonds with the one free arm the Inquisition left him to presumably eat said meat.

Why does he do this?

To entice the rats into eating his bonds, of course! He has to play dead for a bit, and also let rats crawl all over him, but it works and our narrator escapes after a few cuts.

Okay, now let’s take a look at the parallels to that trial in Nevermore. I’ve already gone over the comparison to the bell ringing class as a kind of Sisyphean task, but Lenore also almost gets eaten by Prospero’s rats:

She also succeeds because the people, who are supposed to be her enemies, help her, just like how the rats aid the narrator in escaping. Did I just compare Ada, Pluto, Morella, and Annabel Lee to rats? Yes. Yes, I did.

But I’m going to specifically single out Annabel Lee in this case because Lenore also has to play dead in order to ring the bell. Specifically she pretends to give in to Annabel’s “Kiss of Death”.

So both Lenore and the narrator are momentarily successful after reports of their death are greatly exaggerated.

Then they have the crushing realization that they’re still trapped. Then narrator in the dungeons of Toledo, and Lenore with…

(Minor aside, this is some phenomenal scene work.)

And now the final trial (for our hapless narrator at least). The Inquisition, having been denied their sliced prisoner sandwich, decide to roast him alive instead. You see, the metal walls of the cell can actually be heated up, oh and also they can flatten themselves by pulling the corners apart like a collapsing square.

So the narrator has two choices. Death by being burned alive, or death by falling into the pit at the center of room (remember that detail? It’s still the same room).

To put it in Nevermore terms, Lenore can either test her luck with the Deans OR:

This guy :)

Now, do I think the Deans created The Wild Hunt? No, and I would be very interested in if the Stag turns out to be related to Theo in some way, but I bet the Deans purposefully invited The Wild Hunt into the Academy in order to corral them back into obedience/kill off the troublemakers. (Or maybe they were just bored, who knows?)

NOW FOR THE ACTUAL THEORY PART (How in the world did it take so long to get here? I only have a paragraph left in the short story to use for theory crafting!)

”The Pit and the Pendulum” ends with the narrator being saved literally as he is falling into the eponymous pit by General Lasalle of the French army. That doesn’t make sense because Lasalle wasn’t in the Battle of Toledo where the story takes place, but anachronisms are incredibly prevalent in Nevermore. Pretty much every character comes from a different time and place than the others, most prominently Eulalie, who is probably Japanese and probably died in WWII (though who knows, maybe she was a proto-weeb and died in the firebombings of Dresden).

My theory is that similarly, the main cast is going to be saved by a third party who intervenes during the Hunt. Then, the narrative is going to shift away from Nevermore Academy and towards the afterlife at large. We’ve gotten plenty of hints about the outside, particularly towards the end of Season 1, so I don’t think it’s that unlikely, and if I may make a second literary connection, Nevermore is kind of like the Hunger Games.

Wait! Let me explain.

You have a group of kids/young adults fighting in a premade arena designed by antagonistic game makers where only one of them can come out alive. Generic? Yes? But looking at the Hunger Games Trilogy’s structure, we start with the Hunger Games, get a variation in the Quarter Quell, and then abandon the games to explore a broader scope of the world.

Now, I have the utmost faith in Red and Flynn’s ability to keep the dark academia setting fresh, but the path of least resistance might be getting out of the classroom.

It’s a weak and vague theory, that I don’t even really subscribe to myself, but I thought I should follow the short story to its end at least.

But if I don’t believe in my theory, why did I bother spending the last two hours writing this post?

Well, one, I really like pointing out the parallels between Poe’s work and Nevermore. It’s clear that Red and Flynn put so SO much effort into Nevermore and I genuinely think getting to be in on all those details enhances the reading experience.

But two, do you remember how I started this post?

That’s right, talking about Annabel Lee.

I’ve been doing a lot of comparison between Lenore and the actual text of “The Pit and Pendulum” but I want to show you this illustration of the short story by Harry Clarke:

Does that outfit remind you of anything? Maybe…

Now, Clarke drew the above piece nearly 80 years after “The Pit and the Pendulum” was first published, but considering how prominent this illustration is for the short story, I bet Red and Flynn studied it when writing Nevermore, and I find that really intriguing considering where they chose to reuse the outfit.

There are ribbons all over Nevermore (everyone with a ponytail has one to tie up their hair, Ada uses hers to set Lenore’s broken fingers), but the motif of being bound by ribbons occurs when the narrative is invoking ideas of madness and memory, specifically for Annabel.

And would you look at that. “The Pit and the Pendulum” brings up both of those ideas together: “the madness of a memory which busies itself among forbidden things.”

That’s the last line of the third paragraph, and it’s exactly what Annabel is doing in the bathtub, recalling taboo memories of Lenore.

Plus, this passage happens as the narrator is trying to recover from a swoon, and what do you know? There’s only one character in Nevermore who swooned in season one: Annabel Lee.

Okay? So? Nevermore already has a lot of parallels to this damn story, and I’ve spent the entire post point them out for crying out loud.

But! Poe is very specific about how we recover from a swoon:

“In the return to life from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual; secondly, that of the sense of physical, existence. It seems probable that if, upon reaching the second stage, we could recall the impressions of the first, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories of the gulf beyond.” (Emphasis added)

Again, doesn’t that sound familiar? Throughout season 1, the main cast have all been slowly recovering their memories and thus unlocking their spectres which represent fragments of their true selves and desires.

So here’s my actual theory: in the past, Nevermore Academy was used by lost souls to recover their “mental and spiritual” identities, before they reclaimed their “physical existence” at the light beyond the grounds in order to “return to life”.

More importantly, I think the final arc of Nevermore (or epilogue I guess is more likely?) will take place in the mortal world and be about the cast “[recalling] the impressions of [their mental or spiritual senses” (ie. their time at Nevermore Academy) post-second stage, thus completing Poe’s perfect recovery.

Reincarnation isn’t Nevermore’s endgame.

Maybe they have to leave their spectres behind at Nevermore Academy like in the “Theo is the Stag” theory and the final act is about them reclaiming their personas stands spectres to fight against the Deans, or maybe we’re going to go Kimi no Na wa and just get them running into each other and remembering (which would be lame) or Annabel being the only one who remembers and gradually hiking across the globe to find the others (which would be a very cool reversal given how Lenore is usually the one trying to form genuine connections [we’re starting to see some promising Prospero-Annabel friendship development though!] but now we’re also getting into fanfic territory).

Personally, my happy ending at the moment would be Annabel and Lenore teaming up, kicking the Deans out, and reestablishing Nevermore Academy as a sojourn for reincarnating spirits. That way we don’t have to go through reincarnation drama (again) and everyone who sticks around can just chill out and lead peaceful (after)lives or be teachers and show newcomers how to awaken their spectres. But again, fanfic territory.

Wow, that was a whole lot of text that didn’t really amount to an actual theory, but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it?

TLDR if you didn’t: Nevermore season 1 is actually a sapphic rewrite of “The Pit and the Pendulum”, the Deans are the Spanish Inquisition, and the Nevermore’s endgame is going to take place in the mortal world after reincarnation.

Also, I have no spine like Ada and don’t have any conviction in my theories lmao

[spidernuggets]

Hey! If requests are still open for Jason, can I ask for something. If this too much or uncomfortable you of course do not have to write it, I just wanted to check and see

Hbo Titans Jason where he and reader have always been best friends since before he became robin, possibly they are secretly pining for each other (because I love that trope lol), anyway at titans tower the episode where Jason was gonna jump, could you write that he does and it starts a timeloop that reader is stuck in and she's the only one aware of it, and classic timeloop trope she's trying again and again to save him but it never works out until eventually she can't watch him die anymore so when the day restarts she goes straight to the roof and jumps. This breaks the timeloop and the day starts again, she is alive, jason is alive. And team titans somehow have all the memories from the timeloops so everyone including jason knows that she has had an unbelievably shit time and then her and jason talk and he's kinda really mad that she did that and really confused and that's when she admits that she loves him

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

"57 times I relived the day, 57 times I tried to save you, 57 times I failed, 57 times I watched you die!"

Warnings: continuous mentions of suicide from Jason and one suicide mention from Reader

Notes: A lottttt of dialogue

Love how you think, anon

You have no words to describe your feelings towards your best friend. You have no words to describe your intense, undying love towards Jason Todd.

Undying and forever concealed feelings.

You and Jason have been ride or die ever since you were kids. You were both orphans, but he seemed to get the better end of the stick once he got caught by Batman while he was stealing the tires off of the Bat Mobile.

But Jason never left you in the dust. He always came and visited you. Gave you the nicest food from the manor, told you about his role of Robin, taught you all the tricks and moves he learned from Batman.

He said he could get you a room at the manor. Pull some strings. But you told him that Crime Alley was your home. And you could rely on him, as Robin, to protect you, and the other people whom Batman seems to overlook when saving Gotham.

But when Bruce put Jason under Dick's care within the Titans, Jason practically begged you to join with him. Seeing as he'd be moving to San Francisco, farther away from you, he wanted you to be by his side. Not because he thought you couldn't make it on your own in Gotham. No. He knows how much capability of protecting yourself

He wanted you by his because of his undying and forever concealed feelings for you. He barely managed to go a day without seeing your smile back in Gotham. Who knows how he could've felt if he had to live months, maybe years without seeing your face.

So after getting in his knees, begging you to come with him, he pulled some strings and begged once more. Put his pride aside just for you, and convinced his older brother, Dick, to let you join the Titans. He said you were a fast learner, strategic, and absolutely amazing.

And that's when Dick saw it. That shimmer in Jason's eyes as he described this amazing girl. Dick knew how Jason felt about you. But without revealing this new knowledge, Dick just came up with the excuse that if your presence will get Jason to stay in line, then you can join.

And Jason's bright smile just proved Dick's theory of Jason's obvious love for you.

"Oh my god, I think I dislocated like 50 joints and bones," you say sarcastically, walking into the Tower after a long side mission. "Gonna take a fat nap, Dickwad," you yelled over to Dick before walking towards your room and Dick just rolls his eyes, smirks and shoos you off.

Gar shoots finger guns at you, telling you it was a good idea and headed off towards his own room to catch some Zs.

You changed into comfier clothing, you headed towards Jason room, right beside yours, before going to take a nap.

Ever since Jason's encounter with Deathstroke and his... fall, Jason was benched. So you regularly checked up on him and stayed by his side while he remained silent, staring out the window, and blasting heavy metal and rock music.

You rapidly knocked on his door and entered his room, knowing he couldn't and wouldn't hear it over the music and his disassociating state. He wouldn't let anyone in. But you're not anyone.

When you entered, you turned down his music, just a smidge, and walked by his side.

You stared at the side of his face. His eyes shifted up and down, and his breaths were shallow.

You sighed. "Hi, Jay," you whispered. He didn't respond. "You're not falling. You're okay." You reminded him every time you came in to check up on him.

You walk towards the window and slowly close the curtains. "Keep them closed, Jay. Okay? Today's mission got my limbs in a twist, so I'm gonna go take a nap and come back later, 'kay?"

Jason didn't reply, but you noticed his Adam's apple bob, telling you he tried to hum in response but just couldn't. But that was enough for you.

You were finally into a deep sleep, but around half an hour in, you were awoken by yellong coming from Jason's room. So you quickly got out of bed and rushed into his room.

"How fucked up are you?!" Was the first thing Rachel said when she stormed in. "All you do is give people reasons to hate you!"

"Uhm, what the fuck Rachel??" You exclaimed as she obviously isn't reading the room that Jason wasn't doing good.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jason lowly replies. You try to look into his eyes, but they're still directed towards the closed window, and your heart shatters at his emotionless state.

"The crosses on my mirror!" Rachel says.

Jason finally tears his gaze from the window and turns to Rachel. "I still don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Rachel's eyes and gem glowed red, and her voice became distorted as she shoved Jason, hissing, "Don't fucking lie to me!"

But you shove Rachel back. "Dude, what the fuck are you on about?!"

Before she could reply, Jason spoke up. "I'm tired of this shit." You heard the tiny quiver in this voice and your eyes sadden, watching your best friend grab his jacket and storm out of his room.

You quickly tail behind him as Rachel screams fuck, walking behind you, slamming the door shut.

"Jason!" You called out to him.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" Rachel yelled out.

"Woah, hey, what's the problem?" Dawn tried to calm everyone down.

"Jason drew crucifixes all over my mirror!" She cries.

"Thats bullshit!" Jason argues back, with you defending him.

"Shut the fuck up, Rach, he was in his room all day!"

"Jason, it's okay if you're angry," Dawn says.

"He didn't do shit, Dawn," you replied, annoyed.

"Don't fucking blame me for her voodoo issues," Jason growls.

"Jay," you said his name, giving a look to calm down.

As Donna walks in, asking what all the drama is about, Dawn tries to explain how Rachel thinks Jason drew crosses all over her mirror, Rachel yelling that she knows Jason did it.

This led to pointing fingers towards Jason. This is not how you wanted to relax, coming home from a mission.

At this point, it was believed that Jason planted the bourbon bottle, the picture of Ellis, and the orange sida bottle around the tower.

"You people are insane!" His eyes started to water. At this point of you and Jason's friendship, you both can feel one another's emotions. Not accurately, but you wanted to sob for Jason. All he ever wanted was to prove he is a worthy hero. "I'd rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes."

"Jason," you quietly call out, your voice cracking in the process. Jason couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to see your face, thinking that you believed them over him. That would really break him.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, revealing a sweating, wide-eyed Dick Grayson holding a small hand gun.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. But then your heart raced faster after Dick announced that Deathstroke was in the building, planting shit around everyone's rooms.

You knew it. You knew Jason would never do some crazy shit like that.

Speaking of Jason.

You looked around the room while Dick was further explaining the explanation. Jason was nowhere to be seen. Instantly, you ran past everyone, sprinting towards Jason's room, only to be met by a heavy silence.

"Y/n?" Gar called out behind you.

"I- I can't find Jay!" You exclaimed. You ran past Gar, heading straight to the roof.

When things got tough, you and Jason went to the roof, laid on the rough, pointy gravel, and talked to each other. Reminded one another that neither of you are alone.

And there may or may not have been a moment where you and Jason's eyes couldn't help but glance at each other's lips. But that was quickly interrupted when Gar and Rachel barged in and said they wanted to train.

But bursting through the door, the happy memories of your time spent with Jason were quickly erased. Now, all you could imagine when picturing the roof was Jason standing right at the ledge.

"Jay!" You cried out to him.

"I keep falling," his voice breaks.

Though he couldn't see you, you aggressively shook your head. "No, no. Jay, Jay you're- you're gonna be okay," you try to say through your stutters. "I- I wasn't there befire to catch you, but I will be now! Whenever you feel like you're falling, my hand will be with yours!"

"No. It won't stop. And.. And Bruce wasn't the first one who tried to help me. I can make a list, you know. Relatives, teachers, cops, Dick. Nobody's been up to the task."

"What about me, Jason? There's no way I'm on that list because I've been by your side since day one!" You took a step forward closer to him.

He shook his head. "I've got a poison in me. Shit spreads. It can affect even the healthiest people. I can't put that shit on you."

You dangerously took another few steps forward. "Jason, please. You know me- I know you! We help each other all the time! I'm not gonna stop now!" You didn't notice your cheeks getting wet and your vusion getting blurrier.

"Remember that time I was put into juvie? Four fucking people died. It follows me around like a curse. I'm the reason this place doesn't work. I'm the reason why everyone hates each other. I should have never asked you to come with me. You would've been better off back in Gotham without me." And Jason starts to cry. His tears mirror yours, salting and staining his cheeks, reaching down to his busted lips, leaving a slight sting to its wound.

"That's not true, Jason! You have no idea how much it means that you asked me to come witb you!"

Jason ignores you. "But I can fix it. Remove the poison."

"Jason what-" Your confusion was quickly cut off by your ear pitching shrieks. Jason steps off the ledge, his whole body falling limp.

You were too slow. You couldn't reach his hands. Your fingers couldn't even graze his.

You didn't want to look over the edge. You couldn't even if you wanted to. Your legs gave up on you, and the stones and gravel dug into your skin as you fell to the ground.

Your screams alerted everyone else as they all burst through the door, only to be met by your broken state that was crying and calling out for Jason's name.

It felt like you couldn't breathe when you woke up. You heard a bunch of yelling coming from the room beside you.

You groggily got up, wanting to see what the new commotion was on about.

You don't even remember going to bed or even coming down from the roof. It was probably because you couldn't stop thinking about Jason.

When you got out of your room, you heard the yelling coming from Jason's room.

Whoever the fuck was in there was about to get a real beating from you.

But when you walked in, there he was. Jason stared out the closed window, and Rachel accussing him of drawing crosses all over her mirror.

What the fuck.

Your head was pounding, but all you were thinking was that you had a second chance. A second chance to save Jason. A second chance to convince everyone that he was innocent. A second chance.

So you stormed up to Rachel, shoving her away from Jason.

"What the fuck, Rachel, he didn't do shit!" You yekl at her.

"And how would you know?! You were gone for the mission all day, then went to sleep right after!" She argues back.

You roll your eyes. "Because Jason was in his room all week, dumbass!"

"Jesus, you're just kissing his ass! Just because you're friends, doesn't mean he's innocent!"

"You're one to talk," you scoff. "You're the one following Dick around like a lost puppy! He isn't even here! For all we know, Dick could be the one who drew crosses on your mirror!"

"You don't get to talk about Dick like that! After everything he's done for you!" Rachel's eyes turn red.

"Dick has done fuck all for me. It was Jason who gave me everything!-" Upon the mention of his name, you turn your head and noticed he was gone.

Shit.

"Move," you mutter, pushing Rachel out of your way, ignoring the confused looks from Hank, Dawn and Kory as they watch you run towards the stairs that lead to the top.

"Jason, no!" You screamed out, only to watch him already step off the ledge.

"NO!" You shrieked again, living the previous nightmare. You hear the footsteps of the others running up, and as they got to the top, you gasped for air, waking up once again.

You quickly got out of bed and ran to Jason's room before Rachel could even get in.

This time, Jason looks at you in worry upon seeing you in a cold sweat.

"You're okay, Jay. You're okay," you quietly whisper out if breath, particularly to yourself rather than Jason.

But then, when Rachel storms in, you immediately shout, "Out!", pointing back through the door. Rachel narrows her eyes and walks out.

Now that she's gone, she can't accuse Jason, you have your eyes on him, and he can't walk off.

But the quietness was quickly faded when Rachel walked back in with Hank, Dawn, Kory, and Donna. Rachel quickly told them how Jason supposedly drew the crucifixed, which escalated to pointing fingers AGAIN.

And with this many people in one bedroom at once, it was hard to keep an eye on Jason. But you knew where he would be.

But even as soon as you got to the top, he ws already gone.

You couldn't even scream. But your breath was still taken away when you woke up again.

You didn't care how many times it took. You would watch Jason jumo off again and again. You would give yourself a heart attack again and again. You would get your breath stolen from you again and again. You don't care. No matter what, as long as you have these chances, you will save Jason. He is your best friend- he is the love of your life. And you'd do everything you can to stop him from jumping.

But this was attempt 57 to try and stop him. And you were running out of energy. Even though the day restarted, your vitality didn't.

And each time you woke up with short breaths, the longer it took for you to run up the stairs up to the roof.

Why isn't anything working. You tried to stop him from talking to Rachel, you tried to hold him back, you tried talking to him.

But what if he does stay? What if he doesn't jump? What if you do succeed?

Will the day continue? Will the day restart?

You were getting tired. You were getting tired of trying to shut everyone up, tired of trying to holding back Jason. You were tired of watching him kill himself.

Maybe this was your fault. You should've seen the signs sooner. You should've talked to him more.

Maybe he needed more. Maybe he needed more than you. Maybe you weren't enough. Maybe your friendship, your love wasn't enough.

You can't take it anymore.

You promised Jason that you'd be hy his side no matter what.

So you walk out of your room, the echoes of Rachel's yelling coming from Jason's room. But you don't walk there. You walk past the lobby, hearing Dawn ask where you were going. But you ignore her.

You walk to the stairs, heading up.

You didn't even give it a second thought. You walk off the ledge, knowing that you'd wait at the bottom for Jason. Because you can't even imagine a life without him.

When you woke up, it was different. Your breathing was even. Granted, you were still pissed off that dying didn't break the loop.

But there was no yelling. You couldn't hear Rachel's voice. When you walked out of the room and looked into Jason's, it was empty.

That's not right. It's too soon.

When you walked out of the lobby, you saw everyone standing around, huddled together in the middle of a discussion. But once they notice you, their eyes are full of sadness and worry.

"Y/n, I- I'm so sorry," Rachel speaks up first. Your eyebrows pinch together.

You look at your watch. Jason would've gone up by now. But he wasn't. He was standing with the others, looking at you with sadness and... and anger?

"What are you..."

"We know about... about the time loops," Dick says. "We don't know what caused it or why you were the only one aware of it during those times, but... It seems you've broken the loop with.. With your fall."

"And because you were the only one aware, and you took the fall instead of Jason... it must've cut off the loop," Rachel further explains. "But now it also made us remember all those times we had to relive the day."

"All 57 times.." Hank muttered.

You sucked in a breath. "I- I just-" You stammered, barely able to make a sentence.

But Jason walked up towards you, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you towards his room for privacy. Dick was about to follow suit, but Hank grabbed him by the shoulder and shook his head, silently telling him to leave the two of you alone.

"What the fuck, Y/n?!" Jason says once he locks the door behind you.

"Why are you yelling at me!" You bite back, still tired from the events.

"Why- why didn't you tell me you were reliving this situation, a horrible situation!"

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously I would, but there wasn't time! There was always a fixed time that you disappeared, ended up on the roof, and jumped! And with every attempt, the more tired I got, and the more late I was to get to you!"

"So you killed yourself?!"

"I just couldn't watch you die anymore, Jason!" Jason finally shut up. "And I knew I couldn't live without you either! 57 times I relived the day, 57 times I tried to save you, 57 times I failed, 57 times I watched you die! And I promised I'd always be by your side! That doesn't change, even with this!" Like the first time you watched Jason stand on the ledge, the same salty tears rolled down your face, Jason's eyes doing the same thing.

"That's- That's so stupid! I'm not someone to give up your life over! I'm not worth it!"

"You're worth it to me! Every day, I only wake up because I know you're gonna be there to annoy the hell out of me! I only wake up every day knowing I'm going to spend time with you! My life has no purpose without you!"

"Why?!" Jason raises his voice. "I'm a nobody! I'm an asshole! You're life is worth so much more than mine! Why would you only live for me?!"

"Because I love you, Jay!"

The two of you become quiet, staring at each other, waiting to see who was brave enough to confirm what kind of love you were talking about.

"Jason..." You whisper. "You are literally the best thing that has happened to me. Watching you step off so many times, knowing that I was becoming more and more useless to try to stop you, I felt like I wasn't enough for you to stay. So.. I just thought that if you jumping off that roof was inevitable... then I might as well join you.. Because I genuinely cannot live without you."

You could barely look him in the eye. You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Your breath hitched when his arms wrapped around you. You felt his lips linger on the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, mama," he mumbled into your hair. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "Didn't mean to make you go through all that. Didn't mean to think that you weren't enough."

He loosens his grip around you, hands shifting to hold each side of your face as his calloused thumbs gently caress your wet cheeks.

"I love you too," he gently kisses your forhead. "And you are more than enough for me," he kisses your nose, making you let you a faint giggle and a slight crack of a smile. "You are everything to me." He places a quick but loving kiss against your lips. "I'm sorry I tried to leave you. I'm sorry I didn't stay."

"Will you stay now with me?" You ask, looking up at him.

"Of course I will, babe," he lowly says, pulling you in for another warm and safe embrace. "Now come on. Let's get you some proper sleep where you wake up tomorrow morning, okay?"

You hummed in response, ending the day in now screams or shrieks. Just quick pecks here and there, cuddled against Jason's warmth in his bed and wrapped in his blankets.

Eventually, you were going to talk to him about finding him some professional help, but that would be a talk and a probable argument for later.

Right now, you just need to bask in each other's love and warmth.

holy guac!!! that was long.

Hoped you enjoyed anon!!! 🫶🫶

[carulenes]

I have so many scattered thoughts re: Blade, Jingliu, and Dan Heng and the entirety of the HCQ after Clouds Leave No Trace

This is gonna probably be long as hell since I haven’t stopped thinking abt it for two days straight and will contain spoilers for the new HCQ quest in 1.4 as well as references to other leaks, this is mostly just a jumble of a bunch of theories and ramblings to get my thoughts out, some of which I already had and others that started to jump out during the quest. obv other ppl may have come up with similar conclusions and i obv might not be right myself but based on the narrative presented to us up until now, these are what I feel make the most sense. TLDR at the end.

Dan Heng vs “running away”

I find it fascinating, and frankly disingenuous, that that both Jingliu and Blade consistently frame DH’s explanations of no longer being Dan Feng and only containing fragments of his memories as "trying to run from his past". I’ve also seen some in the fandom claim that DH’s position on the matter shouldn’t be trusted as he’s an “unreliable narrator”, which could be true, but it’s a stance I disagree with as it goes against the structure of DH’s narrative as it’s been set up since the beginning of the game.

From day one until the present, Dan Heng is shown to be fully willing to atone for the sins of his past:

The moment he was allowed to move freely aboard the Luofu after having quietly accepted exile for crimes he shouldn’t have had to pay for, he decided of his own volition to seek out the current high elder and make amends with both the Xianzhou and his past in general, even when doing so made him a target for even more suffering:

Narratively speaking, he never once backs away from the punishment considered owed to Dan Feng's actions.

Dan Heng, the result of a forced rebirth process that was then manipulated to leave him with combat prowess and broken memories he neither wanted or should have possessed to begin with, was escorted away from the only homeland he knew, after being held in prison for crimes he legally should not have been judged by from the moment of his birth, with only the few possessions his previous incarnation had possessed, forced to jump from spaceship to spaceship without even recognizing the destination. The only reason he ever ran at all is due to the ages spent fighting for his life against an enemy he didn't recognize and never truly recognized him, one that refused to die no matter how many times they fought. One who caused unmatched destruction in his hunt for Dan Heng, fully willing to destroy anyone and anything in the way of his goal— a shadow of his past:

This is why personally (emphasis on personally) I believe that the longing in question from the leak regarding Dan Heng polishing his spear is in reference to the Luofu, as to me, it makes sense that he would long for and think of the homeland he never got to witness thoroughly with his own eyes and could only experience in books while caring for the weapon he uses to keep himself and others safe from the force of destruction that trails him:

In fact, it isn't until after Dan Heng joins the Astral Express that he begins to fight back against the assertion that he must eternally suffer for the past; this is because this is when he finally has something other than himself to protect. We are directly shown this in his animated short, when the memory of the other members of the Express crew serve as the motivation to spur Dan Heng out of the internal conflict he was drowning in, and also as his prime reason for going to meet with the others in the HCQ aboard the Luofu:

This is likely possible largely due both to the fact that Vidyadhara cannot succumb to mara, as well as the fact that he doesn't have the same specific memories as the others, and so he is not shackled to the same chains that now bind Blade and Jingliu.

———

Blade and Jingliu

In Blade’s youth, Jingliu describes him as someone who was “defiant” in a way she claimed not to like. I find this fascinating given that the two are so incredibly similar at present, which I feel is due in part to Blade’s unwavering respect for her even after the pain she caused him, both because of who she is as the former Sword Champion and the amount of Abundance abominations she alone had been able to slay, as well as the pain she inflicted giving him new purpose, a choice to give him a “second chance” despite at one point having wished to leave him to his misery as a fate worse than death, as described in her character story.

Both Blade and Jingliu experienced great suffering in their childhoods

Blade's swordsmanship ability comes directly from Jingliu’s tutelage

His personal oath comes directly from Jingliu, as she forced it into his psyche over and over through death and rebirth in order to force him to remember:

They both took on deals through which they are able to have access to suppression for their mara:

And both are fighting towards goals that are implied to, at least currently, be impossible (following who I believe to be extremely suspicious individuals):

Also, both are equally stubborn, seen both through their refusal to take no as an answer to Dan Heng's wishes to no longer associate with them and through their refusal to listen to anything that may trigger or directly refute their perceptions of reality:

But most importantly:

Blade and Jingliu both became mara-struck very quickly after Baiheng’s death.

It's repeatedly mentioned that mara is linked to to the artificially stretched lifespans of Xianzhou natives, but also that a fundamental aspect of the affliction is tied to the accumulation of painful memories. Given that vast scope of the destruction that occurred during this bane, and the extreme closeness both Jingliu and Blade had to the deceased and beloved Baiheng (in addition to the trauma of being transmuted into another species entirely, in Blade's case), it's no surprise that both of them are affected so deeply. Additionally, a common treatment for mara is avoiding accessing painful memories or suppressing/removing them entirely.

As Blade himself states that the effects of mara affliction are unique to the individual, I can't make a sweeping judgement of the symptoms all the mara-struck; the specific manifestations of Jingliu and Blade's afflictions, however, can be related to the concept of complicated grief:

We see these symptoms heavily within Jingliu, who literally wears a blindfold to avoid seeing anything that can trigger painful memories, has a voiceline describing how she can't remember many details of the time she and Baiheng spent together, speaks how she's plagued with nightmares about Baiheng, and she refuses to not only prohibit herself from forgetting the pain of what happened to her that day, but also the remaining members of the HCQ.

Similar observations can be made for Blade; he notably speaks very little and withdraws from most social situations, not wanting to take part in “annoying conversations.” His particular form of mara affliction is, by his own admission, unusual and devoid of any real emotion. The few moments of reprieve are spent either thinking too much or not thinking of anything at all. When his mara strikes, though, he shuts down, going completely numb and lashing out at whatever's in his way- not unlike certain displays of trauma responses in real life. He asks directly, “Why does someone like her have to be buried, burned to ash, and eventually forgotten...? Why!?” And given Yingxing being quoted saying directly during this quest that he doesn't wish for an overly long life, and Blade's intense suicidal ideations in the present, it's not a far reach to suggest that he also wishes that he died with her or in her stead.

And both are unable to find purpose in a life without her:

Blade and Jingliu both accuse Dan Heng of being unwilling to accept the past, but both of them are quite literally and physically unable to do so themselves— Dan Heng was even the only one to have spent extended time in the Shackling Prison, even though he should not have had to due to his rebirth, while both Blade and Jingliu were both wanted criminals who managed to escape. They both walk carrying the pain of the past through the present because they feel empty without it. And, unlike Dan Heng, neither one of them have a future that they feel can look forward to.

On that note, Jing Yuan, the only member of the HCQ who is capable of succumbing to mara and yet hasn't, is also the only member to directly acknowledge Dan Heng's autonomy and existence. This extends to Dan Feng as well, as both Blade and Jingliu most often refer to both Dan Heng and Dan Feng interchangeably with the title of Imbibitor Lunae, rather than their names.

The only ones to continue to deny Dan Heng's existence and rebirth are those who are unable to leave the past behind, such as the mirage echoes forever tied to Scalegorge Waterscape, as well as Blade and Jingliu, forever tied to their own suffering.

[Side note: This is exactly why I believe HYV decided to have 1.3 end with an entire questline based around the showing the process of accepting death and healthy grieving: to act as a direct juxtaposition to Blade and Jingliu, who both are unable to engage in the process themselves.] ————

Yingxing and Dan Feng/Blade and Dan Heng

Yingxing the Furnace Master and High Elder Dan Feng were very close. They were good friends, yes, but they were also bad for each other, according to Kafka:

Which would be easy enough on its to write off as her own interpretation of a story she’s heard but doesn’t know enough to understand. But Jingliu, the living member of the HCQ most affected by their actions, shows agreement with her assessment, pointing out that she’d found it strange “to see someone so arrogant get along with someone so proud.”

These specific traits are mentioned and attributed to them multiple times— the arrogant craftsman and the proud high elder. The reason for this is also stated by Kafka: “Together, they did something bad— something terrible. It led to horrific consequences.”

The emphasis that they did it together, almost directly after stating that the pair were bad for one another (which was a conscious choice to have her say, as her statements of their shared mistake and Blade's memory loss would have sufficed on their own), is important not simply because they both made and adhered to the plan; it’s important because it implies that it was directly because it took the two of them specifically to create the chaos and unrest that took place and not anyone else. This isn’t a condemnation of either of them as individuals, but Jingliu herself points out that even the smartest people can make extremely ill-advised decisions in the heat of the moment.

If Yingxing hadn’t arrogantly believed himself alone capable of handling and utilizing the remains of the very Emanator it took a plethora of combatants including the entire HCQ to take down (likely leading to the loss in the usability of his hands as a result):

If Dan Feng hadn’t proudly believed his “salvation” more righteous than the autonomy of those mortals he sought to save, "letting" them continue living as though the right to withhold the honor of dying for a cause they believed in was his alone, while also seeming to blindly believe himself incapable of being deceived or misunderstanding something:

None of the resulting fallout would have happened.

Only one with powers like those of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara could have attempted what Dan Feng did, and only an outworlder who has experienced the allure of immortality and experienced the fear of not having enough time would be willing to assist, given the Xianzhou’s stance on acts regarding immortality.

Furnace Master and High Elder, filled with blind confidence in themselves, blind confidence in each other, enabling each other (Yingxing calling out to Dan Feng and implying that they had to be the ones to make a choice, Dan Feng being moved by his human heart’s words and his own exhaustion with watching the deaths of those around him) to make a dangerous choice at a critical moment when their close companion is in mortal peril (more accurately already dead but they couldn’t accept that), and make the decision to ignore the autonomy of everyone involved. They had no contingency plan because they were sure that, with each other, that it would work. Because of this, they both share the blame, their noble intentions not enough to outweigh their unforgivable sin.

Jing Yuan is noted to have “always understood the price better than any of [the HCQ], yet he never spoke up, never did anything”, but anyone who has had the experience of trying to tell an arrogant or prideful person that they’re wrong or making a mistake knows that that’s an uphill battle on its own. Add in that it would be two against one (one of whom he already canonically bickered with constantly throughout their companionship), asking two of the most stubborn people he knew to give up on their desire to save the beloved (for Yingxing, Baiheng; for Dan Feng, his people), the two that were closer to each other than he was with either of them (not to imply that the HCQ weren’t all very close to each other because they definitely were but in obv differing ways) right in the middle of a high stress situation where there’s no time for arguing, and what remains is Jing Yuan with no options but to watch as disaster unfolded before him and everyone else, knowing that their minds were already made up.

Yingxing never wanted to be immortal or to see Baiheng suffering, but his own hubris helped lead to both.

Dan Feng never wanted to endure the sight of meaningless death, and yet directly caused it due to his pride, believing he had the right to play god and interfere with the natural process of death, or to consider that he may be wrong.

They were good friends who were bad for each other, and good people who made an exceedingly bad decision.

In the present, it’s been over 700 years since the last meeting of the High-Cloud Quintet, meaning Yingxing and Dan Feng have been essentially dead for roughly 7x the length of the HCQ’s entire existence. Their new identities, Blade and Dan Heng are clearly meant to parallel each other, but as opposing forces going in different directions, given Blade’s unwavering desire to die, and Dan Heng’s unwavering desire to live and to protect those he cares for. Both were put through immense suffering that, in the same vein, provided the means of “freedom” for them— Blade, through the sword; Dan Heng, through banishment. And both have found new colleagues to consider allies, though even the two groups are opposed to one another.

At this point in time, they’re enemies in all respects, and the chances of any reconciliation between them in my opinion is VERY slim for multiple reasons not limited to how much time has already passed at this point:

1) Dan Heng does not trust Blade at all and actively considers him one of the biggest threats to both his own and his companions’ safety, with good reason. The only way this could feasibly change is if Blade were to stop hunting him, which likely would not happen because

2) Blade is wholly devoted to Elio’s predictions for him, which Dan Heng’s existence would be paradoxical to. One of Blade’s wishes is to kill Imbibitor Lunae specifically in revenge, and he doesn’t (or can't) accept Dan Heng’s existence; if what Dan Heng claims about his identity is true, then that could only mean the future Elio promised must be false, which would strip him of the only purpose he has left in this world, leaving him as an empty, undying husk. This matter is also complicated by the fact that

3) There is still no cure for the mara that afflicts Blade, which would be the only avenue through which Blade could even begin to consider accepting Dan Heng and potentially reconciling. Both he and Jingliu were able to discover methods of having it suppressed, but both were temporary fixes: Jingliu notes that her time is beginning to run out, and Kafka had to use alternate means to reduce the potency of the mara within Blade after it violently flared up after merely being on the Xianzhou, which is likely the only reason the meeting between the HCQ could even take place with his attendance. On top of this, there’s also the fact that

4) Blade’s feelings for Dan Feng are likely very complex as well. Deep down, there’s clearly still some fondness there in the way Blade looks back on the time spent with Dan Feng, but he’s also one of the people he deeply resents and wants to see dead, which I believe could be due to his belief that it’s Dan Feng’s fault that Baiheng died. There is a choice-dependent voiceline from Baiheng deep within Dan Heng's memories that calls out to him to save them from the starskiff, but we know that it crashed. He tried to invoke the Transmutation Arcaneum, but it failed, instead turning Baiheng into a half-dragon monstrosity whose wails of pain echoed all around them. And then, though he wasn’t the one to deal the final blow, he might as well have by giving the location of the dragon’s weak spot to Jingliu. To top everything off, everything ended with Blade within an immortal body, one that leaves him in constant pain, particularly during the healing process after “death”.

From his perspective, it’s easy to see just why Blade could place the blame of Baiheng’s burial and the near destruction of the Luofu solely on Dan Feng, accusing Dan Feng alone of being the one to stubbornly adhere to the plan; it’s also easy to point out Blade’s hypocrisy given his role as Dan Feng’s accomplice. There are multiple potential reasons for this in my opinion: his brain, afflicted by both mara and prior memory loss (though he never forgets Dan Feng’s eyes or “how cruelty burst out from beneath the mirror-like emerald calmness”); his arrogance, leading him to absolve himself of any guilt or wrongdoing because he believes himself incapable of failing; the current youth-like quality of his mind, reduced to immaturely (by which I purely mean the dictionary definition of having/showing emotional development of someone younger) craving nothing but revenge while simultaneously absolving responsibility by saying “He did it! Not me!”. Also, considering Jingliu’s dialogue to Dan Feng where she says to him “If your death can return everything to how it was, I would do it,” and the many ways Blade already emulates Jingliu, it isn’t too difficult to consider that he may have taken that duty on himself out of grief and longing.

Along with these reasons, the narrative emphasizes that even almost a millennium after Yingxing and Dan Feng’s deaths, destruction follows in their wake whenever their new lives cross paths. Dan Heng learned this quickly, hence his fervent desire to keep distance and his relative uncertainty of anywhere that could possibly be safe for him, though he also learned rather quickly that this was futile. Blade was always able to find him, entire spaceships destroyed in his unshakable desire to kill him. On the Xianzhou, not only was Dan Heng dragged into a fight with Blade, but so too was Yanqing. This cycle of destruction is implied to have been so constant for Dan Heng that it’s likely the entire reason he never feels safe or feels unable to confide in anyone so as to not risk putting them in danger.

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The Destruction Trio

Imbibitor Lunae, Blade, and Jingliu all being on the path of destruction is no coincidence given their histories. The three “sinners” all shared a key trait: being able to cope with death and painful losses. Both Yingxing and Dan Feng viewed her as arrogant and proud, respectfully, which was another commonality between them. This leads all three of them to not only become the orchestrators of their own self-destruction, but the destruction of those around them as well: Dan Feng witnessing countless deaths and being forced to be reborn as another; Yingxing’s loss of his gift and creative abilities as well as the transformation into the immortal Blade who only sees himself as a weapon; Jingliu’s abandonment of her sacred oath and everyone she killed during her time under the influence of the mara poisoning her mind. Only Dan Heng walks a different path, as he is the only one to have directly stated that he accepts the past that happened but refuses to let it stain his bright future.

The three of them are also intrinsically linked in their pain. Dan Feng and Yingxing's mistake led directly to Jingliu's suffering; Jingliu's treatment of Blade led to his becoming a living weapon and catching the eye of the Stellaron Hunters, and also to him being able to inflict similar suffering to Dan Heng by hunting him constantly. Blade and Jingliu both are of the mind that this is inevitable and inescapable, but only Dan Heng is in a position to be able and willing to question whether he really does have to continue feeling that pain.

While it's still very early on in HSR's lifespan making it difficult to make any real concrete theories, for now I predict that Jingliu will die in her attempt to kill the Abundance, and I also believe her to be aware of this deep down, as she likely sees this as a way for her to atone and find her peace. It also makes most sense for Blade to die at some point as well, considering his parallels to Jingliu, his current character and the fact that while Yingxing used to fear not having enough time in life when he was young, he came to accept his mortality in his elder years after the full life he lived with the HCQ; it could even possibly be in defense of Dan Heng, which could provide a full-circle end to their cycle and their story, a form of closure that no other broken pair has seemed to get so far. Their respective character stories, while directly representing their current struggles, can also be viewed as allusions to their fates as well, with Blade's referring to his death and Dan Heng's highlighting him seeing the dawn of a new day. I also think it could be feasible for the discovery of a method to remove Blade's mara and for him to grow content with the Blade of today, even with powers he doesn't want, similar to Dan Heng accepting that Imbibitor Lunae's powers will always be a part of him; a "miraculous cure" sort of ending could be very clunky if not handled well in my opinion, though.

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The Reunion

Though it's phrased in a metaphorical way, I feel pretty sure that not only did we just see the reunion alluded to by the PoWC bracer, but also that this is another remnant of Jingliu’s influence that some part of Blade’s subconscious must have clung to:

Note the usage of “should”, a term with many meanings but the most applicable being “expressing a conjecture or hope,” rather than something like “will”, which would indicate future tense or an inevitable event.

Jingliu’s splash art alone shows her pouring out a cup of alcohol

In Jingliu’s character story, Baiheng is said to have brought Jingliu “divine nectar from the other side of the universe”

At the beginning of the companion quest, in the Seat of Divine Foresight, she mentions wanting to have a glass of wine and reminisce with old friends

She is the one to bring the jade flask that Blade handcrafted himself for her when she releases the starskiff in her memory

When the remaining quartet reach Scalegorge Waterscape, she directly mentions that she never believed the 4 of them, with their many grudges and all friendship lost, would gather again and specifically quantifies the hundreds of years that have passed

She does this twice more, mentioning the seven centuries and how they all did this 700 hundred years ago

She is the one to point out that, in the past, they all promised to meet together again for a drink no matter what happened

She says that she believed “those joyful days would flow indefinitely before us” which also fits within the imagery of drinking

There are multiple visual nods to drinking in her flashbacks as well: there’s the quintet having a toast, as well as Jingliu pouring out the alcohol once again while Yingxing sips off to the side, which symbolically is a good representation of the way she poured so much of herself into Blade (whether intentionally or unintentionally) that so much of him resembles her now, down to the bow on the back of his clothes (and even their similar splash arts). There’s also a glimpse of Yingxing and Jing Yuan drinking together. Because both of them were children when they each met Jingliu for the first time, it makes sense that Jingliu and the others were likely the ones to teach the pair to drink once they each came of age.

Jingliu mentions that they will likely never all meet again, and bids farewell to the HCQ.

Finally, at the very end of the quest, she directly says:

Blade mentions alcohol only once, when he says, "The miraculous thing is that in my brief moment of death... all the pain went away... like when we drank to drown our sorrows." In Jingliu's case, we know that she was affected in much the same way as Blade, becoming more confident and boastful under the effects of drinking, mentioning that the nightmares and pain from her childhood memories were no longer so terrifying. For both of them, alcohol is another form of suppression of pain, not unlike substance abuse seen in real life, which grieving individuals are at higher risk of falling victim to.

While it’s possible this wasn’t the reunion that alluded to and they could technically all reunite once more in the future, the sheer number of references to the contents of the backstory mentioned in the bracer lead me to believe that this isn’t the case, as well as Jingliu stating herself that this would likely be their final meeting before she pays her own ultimate price. Not to mention the fact that very specific circumstances had to be in play for Jingliu/Luocha, the Stellaron Hunters, and the Astral Express to all end up on Jing Yuan’s doorstep at the same time. Specificity like that is rarely duplicated, particularly in HSR’s canon, which features many characters with formerly close bonds being separated for whatever reason with no closure to their relationship. The four of them even getting one reunion was a blessing in itself, even though none of them felt particularly happy about it afterwards.

TLDR: Dan Heng is accused of running from his past, but he is the only one of the three "sinners" capable and willing to do so; Jingliu and Blade are heavy parallels of each other and share the same pains of complicated grief; Yingxing and Dan Feng together (and Blade and Dan Heng by association) bring out the worst in each other and represent a cycle of destruction that neither of them are currently able to escape from; the reunion mentioned by the bracer was likely Jingliu's idea that Blade also began to internalize and we likely just watched it occur; Dan Feng, Blade, and Jingliu were all incapable of handling death and loss and this inability is what lead to the three of them causing so much pain and destruction for themselves, each other, and everyone around them.