#its been strange i have feelings im trying to reconcile but not sure how to

[yongseungkim]

.

[helahades]

James and the Siren

(Prewar!Bucky x Black/WOC!Siren)

Summary: There’s magic in Brooklyn before the war. She takes the form of an alluring Siren with an appetite for predatory men. While at the beach one day, Bucky gets involved in something that draws Her attention. Will he live to tell the tale?

A/N: This is the surprise project! If you’re dead set on Greek Mythology accuracy, this is not the fic for you. I’ve definitely taken some liberties.

Im not sure if I’m planning to do a part two, but if y’all show interest in this, I’ll consider it! Quick shoutout to @xbuchananbarnes for being a lovely angel and betaing this and encouraging me all the way. Also to @invisibleanonymousmonsters for being the sweetest and helping me put my scrambled ideas together. ♥️♥️♥️Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Two minor deaths. Creepy guy following someone. Injury. Blood mentions. Drafted, scared Bucky. Fighting. Drowning if you squint. Sad and confused Bucky. Overuse of cheesy water imagery. Me completely ignoring the reality of New York’s geography. I did what I wanted skskksk.

Word Count: 4.2k

—

Light.

Light like smooth honey.

Light like tree sap in glittering in the sun, spread across the sand in a broken mosaic, tumbling in waves to just barely provide the light Bucky needed to see his notebook.

The day feels so bright his eyes won’t open wide, and yet shaded in the trees, Bucky can’t see.

Shuffling with their branches, the leaves danced as the wind blew through them. Everything here seems to have its own rhythm, from the clouds stretching and inching across a leaden blue sky, to the filtered light leaping from one wave to the next.

These purities make Bucky feel like he can breathe, in a time that has been near suffocating.

He’s been sad.

Sergeant James. That’s all he is now. In a week or so, Uncle Sam will come to retrieve the body he is, and he will leave most things behind. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to serve—actually maybe he doesn’t. But is that so wrong?

He can’t understand why Steve wants it. He’s not foolish enough to think that punk has the same roots in Brooklyn anymore, not with Sarah gone, not with the way the guys around here treat him.. But Bucky can’t understand how Steve can be so…ready. He won’t say it to anyone, but he just doesn’t want to look Death in the eyes quite yet.

Bucky finds himself praying for some force to steal him away in the night. He dreams of things otherworldly.

Bucky finds himself trying not to think about how it will only be good news for his mother, who loves him, but whose wallet will breathe now that she’s not feeding a growing man along with her multiple daughters.

Bucky finds himself at the beach in Brooklyn, writing random things in a journal. He doesn’t know how to get the feelings out. He can’t write words on paper in a place his mother won’t eventually find and be heartbroken by them.

So he writes nonsensical things. He scribbles. He’s no artist like Steve, but it feels like it's enough. And he watches the glistening shores, waiting for what lies beyond—or at least what he hopes exists.

Jenny and Dot and Nancy and all the girls say there’s something big in these waters. Maybe it’s someone who swims. But maybe... it’s magic. Maybe it’s some sort of impossible magical creature that makes dreams come true.

That’s what they tell Bucky behind their giggles, but really they know She’s a protector.

—

One day, Jenny was walking home, and felt a strike of ominous energy in her heart. She had taken the long way, because she likes to see the clear waters of the ocean. Sometimes it feels like nothing else is clean in New York.

But as she came upon the beach she cursed herself for this choice, and hurried along the sidewalk that overlooked it all, for she felt someone walking towards her, and with intention. Hearing a chuckle from behind, that was closer than it should be, she realized the man must have noticed her change in body language and begun to advance upon her.

Step.

Step.

Step.

It took everything within her to refrain from breaking into a run, but she was wearing her fancy shoes, and wasn’t confident in her ability to run in them. She wonders if she’s out of normal step, and tries to walk to the beat of her heart, only to find that it’s racing. Clutching the sides of her skirts, she breathed in deep and let it out into the salty air. If he would hurt her, she certainly wouldn’t show him fear.

As if she could see into the time not yet passed, and knew all would be fine, she started to breathe again, tension beginning to unwind from her veins. Then a wave of it hit. It was power and reassurance, like a hug from a mother, like a proud smile from a teacher.

Jenny chanced a look behind her in the same moment. The man was frozen. He was desperately looking to the rocky shores in the distance below them, no longer pursuing her.

Somewhere inside was screaming to her that it was time to go home. But everything was heavy and light and fresh, and she was feeling the strange seduction of the waves too.

She took one—two scooping steps backwards in alarm when the man urgently began to move again. Only, he was stumbling down the bouldered bank in a rushed, yet somehow lethargic shuffle. As he finally got into the sand and clambered onto the rocks overlooking the ocean, a head breached the water!

Dark cascades of curly hair wrapped around and around in tight coils, and curtained the sides of her angelic face.

She was alluring, and glowing bright and faded, as living moonlight. Her skin was deep brown and cool, like driftwood or seashells, also washed by the sin she consumed.

Jenny would have been surprised at their breath holding skills, had her soul not already known the truth. For just a fraction of a moment, the being’s energy was focused on her, before the attraction released Jenny, and safety flowed through her and guided her home.

Then. They turned on the man, and he leaped into the depths.

No man bothered Jenny again after that day.

—

“—not a soul heard from that chump again!”

“It’s them canary lookers by the beach!”

Bucky sat and tried to process. The fellas that hung around the dance hall had all sorts of stories.

But he’s a smart kid. Smart enough to put two and two together.

When the girls all talked about this creature that supposedly lives in the beach waters, they speak of it—of her— as some sort of guardian angel, maybe a friend.

When the guys tell it, she’s a man eating broad that swims naked and eats innocent family men. Every guy knows another one who hasn’t come back after hearing a smooth song and wandering down to the beach like they were possessed with something wild.

A man of science, as Bucky believes himself, but a dreamer all the same, he wants to believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

—

Bucky can’t deny the beach has its magic.

He feels alone at school, at the diner, walking the streets, sometimes even with Steve.

At the beach though, things are alive and awake. He doesn’t understand why some guys can’t stand the place. Some guys, and Bucky sees no coincidence in it being the shadier ones, feel as though they’re being watched if they edge too close to the coarse sands.

To Bucky, there is energy, but it just feels like peace. Peace that is much needed as he reconciles maybe never returning home after shipping off. Notebook forgotten, Bucky looks out across the cerulean waters and tries to make out waves as far as he can before the blur of them mixes with the skyline. He’s already sweat out the gel in the front of his hair, and some of the growing strands are ruffling in the salty wind.

Just then, a couple guys from school waltz down the hillside behind him, and begin walking down the beach, laughing obnoxiously and making jokes all the way down.

Roy and Charles. Maybe the only two people Bucky's age in the city that match him for size and strength. They love to let the world know. They’ve given Steve one too many rough looks, and frazzled too many skirts for Bucky to be comfortable with them.

Roy has stick straight mahogany colored hair that never seems to be without a perfectly gelled style. He will abandon dates if he dances too long and fears he might have sweated it out. Standing just a bit taller than Bucky, he was stocky, blocky, and cocky. He will soon, like Bucky, outgrow the food budget of his parents.

Most kids from school think he’s been big since birth. He must have gone straight from baby to man, or been delivered here by a bone tired stork, some say. For all that muscle and size, there is not a bone of charm in him, or anything interesting about him. His skin is a dull beige. He tries to make up for all of this by being as loud and obnoxious as he can, filling up any room with his desperation.

Charles has all the charm. The whispers say that Roy follows him hoping to catch a personality. With loose blond curls and granny smith sweet eyes, he can turn on his games, and dames, in just an instant. He seems to have a permanent flush of the skin, enhancing the smattering of freckles across his nose. He is lean and lanky, and just as tall as Roy. Something about him unsettles Bucky. Charles seems to always be thinking something strange, and every girl who ever loved him has always regretted it.

They both thought it was a shame Bucky refused to hang with them, and held a strange reserved animosity towards him at the rejection. What are they doing here though?

They secretly feared the depths. It was only when Bucky noticed Roy’s sloshed stumbling that he felt dread wash over him. Once they reached the bottom of the hill, Charles patted Roy on the back and turned to leave, as if he had only come to escort his friend.

How strange, Bucky thinks.

In a moment of weakness, Bucky looked down, not caring to be caught watching the waves. He’s not sure why.

Bucky decides to leave the drunken Roy to his business. If he does something stupid wandering the beach, that is his own problem.

That is…until he saw Roy wasn't just relaxing or wandering. Jenny was further down the beach, standing just where the tide won’t touch her. Loose from her usual tight curls, her hair waved like a banner in the breeze as she stood watching every movement of the tide. She’s a liberated picture, like she found out how to breathe, like there’s nothing to fear, and Bucky would have kept admiring, had he not severely doubted the intentions of the meathead making his way closer to her.

He found himself on his feet, and followed after the young man. Now there were two suspicious gazes on Roy…and one on him.

Following carefully, he was slightly behind when Roy arrived at where Jenny was.

“Ya floozie,” Roy slurred before stepping closer, “think nobody knows what you did to my Uncle Kenny?”

Still watching the waves, Jenny made no indication she had heard him at all. Roy took a deep breath, like he was ready to yell. Before he did, she finally looked his way.

“What malarkey,” she spat, looking up into his eyes.

Stepping closer to the tide she kept her eyes on Roy, and noted Bucky looking at her just behind him, trying to decipher the intensity in her stare.

“No one did a thing to him that he didn’t already have comin’.”

Turning red, darkness bled into his stare as he lunged for Jenny. Running up just behind, Bucky tackles him into the water, falling in beside him.

Roy scrambles up into the sand and locks eyes with Bucky, standing bristled, like a cat given an unwanted bath.

“This ain’t your fight, Barnes! That tramp’s gonna learn!”

“Give it a rest Roy…”

“That lyin’ bat,” he continued to slur, “All these dames lie! Now somebody’s gotta pay, and it was this floozie who gave him up to—“

Roy vaguely gestured to the ocean and became distracted, considering something else for just a moment.

Then Roy turned to Bucky, who had put himself between him and Jenny. Shivering in the breeze that suddenly felt frigid, his eyes seemed to turn wild. Roy began to pat down his soaked slacks frantically, as if fearing he lost something in the gritty tide.

On alert now, Bucky prepared for a fight, moving himself in closer to block him from getting to Jenny. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Leave him be, Bucky,” she pleaded, only now stirred by the thought that Bucky could be hurt. She didn’t know if her protector could stop this.

Bucky couldn’t stop to consider why Jenny didn’t fear for her own safety, because with a brash guffaw, Roy’s desperation blew away as he found what he had been looking for. A glitter of a threat gleaned off Roy’s shiny blade, and he seemed to sober up, drunk on something else. Bloodlust.

“Walk away, Barnes.”

“You first.”

Bucky started to take a deep breath of the salty air in preparation, but had to cut it short when Roy lunged. Instinctively throwing one arm out behind him to shield Jenny, Bucky left himself open.

One free arm and a bad stance in the uneven sand wasn’t enough. A burst of pain and heat stretched across his chest in an instant.

Grunting, he pulled both arms forward and shoved Roy. Hard. Roy stumbled, but managed to keep on his feet, throwing a crossbody punch that Bucky knocked out of the way, using Roy’s momentum against him. Using that opening, Bucky swung a fist into Roy’s unguarded side just under his ribs. That took him down.

From the ground, Ray scooted back as Bucky advanced on him. A wet blob of chunky sand sailed through the air, and Bucky coolly side stepped, evading it. It would have directly hit his chest wound.

Looking like a cornered animal, Roy stopped scooting away, and when Bucky got close enough, he swung his foot up right into Bucky's groin.

Bucky was down too now, and after catching his breath, Roy was the first to get back on his feet.

Trying to fight the fire in his nerves, and the rough sand tearing at his chest wound, Bucky yelled with all his might as he writhed in the sand.

“Jenny, RUN!”

She backed up in a daze, from where she had been watching with worry, and the gravity dawned on her, just a moment too late. Turning abruptly, having no choice but to take her eyes off Roy, her chunky heels pounded sloshing wet splashes through the soaked sand.

Four of her strides were one and a half of Roy’s. But now Bucky was up, and he ran after them both, intending to tackle Roy and wrestle the knife away.

It began like a change in the air. A frequency finding itself, humming with the tune of the moon pulling the tide, and adjusting to its prey. It was like the evening cicadas, until it rounded into something lovelier. It had a sonorous resonance, like the cry of a damsel worn by a widow sneaking around her net, waiting for entanglement.

It was rich like a church choir and seductive like sin. Both Roy and Bucky were frozen upon hearing the melody. The familiar feeling of protected comfort washed through Jenny, but she immediately felt dread at realizing Bucky was also in a trance at the siren song.

“Not him,” she breathed.

Then, She appeared.

The melody grew into a spiked honey of sorts, warming with command. The men straightened from their tense stances, and inched ever so slowly toward the water.

Her song grew sharper, and she rose higher from the water, scales like gold scattered on her arms, sensuality running down Her neck and chest like flowing oil.

Finally, Jenny ran to Bucky and threw herself into his arms with a shriek, pressing her cool palms to either side of his face.

“Not him!”

The song swallowed her pleading. It had been seen. The girl. Two men after her.

First it was Roy. He took big steps forward, Her allure magnetic to sin, and the ocean swallowed him suddenly, as it does.

She flipped back then, slick abdomen curling over the surface before a long emerald tail followed, entering the water silently, sending ripples that Bucky reached out to touch. Still looking desperately at Bucky's greying eyes, and trying to hold him back, Jenny began to cry.

“Oh please, Bucky, please. I never would wish this on you. I'm not sure what you’re hearing, but don’t listen! You’re too good.”

Bucky wanted to breathe. He’s been so tired. The waves call him.

When She returned, Jenny felt it before seeing it. She studied Jenny. Torn lovers had, on occasion, tried to rescue bad men from the curse. For just a moment, she reserves judgement, wondering if this is that. She studies Bucky. Sees the gash across his chest. Puts it together. Then she’s gone.

Bucky falls to his knees and the clouds seem to wash out of his vision, his familiar diamond eyes blooming back to their shade. He lets out a shaky breath, and Jenny throws her arms around him. They stay there, on their knees, startled in the sand, before Jenny pulls herself up, a funny look on her face as she looks at his wound.

“Y-You stay. Stay right here, James! I’ll get somebody!”

When the tide washes in and back, the sand and shells part to reveal the knife. Bucky snatches it up and presses it into Jenny’s hand without thinking, looking at her intently.

She shivers at the silent message, but knows it's not her who needs the protection. Then she runs, hoping to find someone who will know what to do. She wonders as she leaves... what life will be with Roy dead and gone. She wonders what Becca Barnes will say if she sees her at school if life never returns to her brother. Will Bucky ever tell what happened today? She sure won’t.

As Jenny disappears into the distance, Bucky realizes the clouds have eaten up all the direct sunlight. He stares in the direction Jenny left, still there in the sand, trying to process what happened. Where’s Roy? Is Jenny alright? Can he die from this cut? Would that save him from the war?

He absentmindedly looks to the water, before gasping and freezing in place. The creature is back. It had saved Jenny… sure. That was good. Bucky never liked Roy, but now he’s dead, maybe, and that’s a lot to reconcile. Now it’s staring at him again. Will it—She—sing him into another spell? What does She want?

Her eyes melt from whiskey brown to honeyed gold in an instant as she assesses his pain. Twirling where she is, she lies on her back in the water, with the slow fanning of her multi gem colored tail propelling Her languidly across his field of vision. This allows Bucky to take in Her captivating form. Now that She doesn’t deem Bucky a threat, everything about Her is warm from Her eyes to the undertone of Her skin. He can’t believe what he’s witnessing, and considers the fact that he may have died already.

Stretching Her arms behind her head, she paddled both arms in full motions until She reached the cool, flat stone She had been searching for. It extended from the sand into the sea, and was littered with weeds and grit from the high tide. With a casual turn of Her wrist, the debris parted down the middle and slid off into the water.

Twisting towards the flat rock, She planted two surprisingly human hands onto it and pulled Herself gracefully and easily atop it. Lying flat on Her stomach, She curled her golden emerald tail up toward the sky, then further toward her body. Finally deciding she was comfortable, after lying her head on crossed arms, she regarded Bucky again.

He felt a pull towards Her, like a silk lasso on his heart, but it was softer than before. She wanted him to choose. It was, of course, impossible for him to resist Her, and he was up, walking the stretch of the beach it took to close the distance. Coming to kneel next to Her, he was closer than he had ever been, and was transfixed by Her beauty. He also noticed that she seemed to be wrapped up in the water's surface tension, for it seemed to glide over Her skin, even when She was out of it. It parted for a moment though, when Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and She, once again, grabbed ahold of his soul.

A wave of sedative-like calm overtook Bucky, and he only watched as She assessed him. Rising off of her arms, Bucky rose too as She reached for his chest and placed gentle, and surprisingly warm, hands on either side of the gash. With sweetly sure and surely piercing golden eyes still on him, She rolled her palms against his chest, pulling sand from him and his skin back together in just a moment. Then, with a final palm in the center, where the gash had previously been, Bucky’s face twisted into something comical as he felt something beneath the newly healed skin shift, and the pain disappeared.

Propping Herself on one sinewy arm, She reached for his face with the other, gently pressing a palm to his cheek, gently curling Her fingertips, and rubbing small motions with a gentle thumb. She appeared somber for a moment, then almost mournful as She looked into his baby blues, reading something he couldn’t see.

“Thanks,” Bucky said softly, wincing at how croaky he suddenly sounded.

She hummed a small confirmation and it flowed easily through the air, like the sound of bells or wind chimes. Pulling Her hand back from his face, She lowered Herself mostly into the water, crossing Her arms at the edge of the stone and gazing up at him.

He had so many things he wanted to say, but the surrealism of this moment was making abstractions of his thoughts. It hits him. There's magic in Brooklyn, and there had been all along. It feels right, but wanting to believe, and being made to see no other truth are two different frames of mind. He is still having trouble processing. Is Roy dead? Is Jenny okay?

Will Steve be okay without him? Bucky knows he’s strong, hell, Bucky would say Steve is stronger than him. Steve has got enough determination and courage in one finger to win several wars. Put him in a healthier body, and that punk would be unstoppable.

Actually, Bucky is sure everyone will be okay when he leaves. He’s glad about that in many ways, but in many others, it just makes him feel like a grain of sand, respective to the universe. He knows everyone will be okay. Bucky is just not sure about himself.

As if She could read the focus of the lines of stress etched into his face, Her gaze focused intently, and She began to think of how to word Her sentiments. She reached to hold his icy hands in Her warm ones, and Her eyes darkened to an amber brown as She grew less playful, gently somber.

“Everything changes, James,” his name was a lullaby from Her mouth, and he could not help but to listen, “that sort of…”—

—she paused thoughtfully, trying to find the word.

“That sort of fluctuation,” she continued, “is the only thing that is sure in anyone’s existence.

Some part of him was melting into ease, but he still was not sure what she meant.

“You will not be afraid. Not forever. Even once you have...left. Nothing will stay as it is.”

She looked, sort of at him, but more so beyond, as if there were some greater picture, as if she could see his soul.

“What is forever, is the gracious creature you are. And not a soul can take that from you, James. Not a soul.”

She raised one hand out of his gentle grip, straight to his heart, where his old wound once was. Now calm, and entirely transfixed, he realized, She has now healed him twice. Then She pulled away.

He feels the finality of the moment, he tries to rush and say something else.

“R-Right now they say it should only be a year...or two. But then I’ll be back.”

Eyes falling shut, She pulls in and releases a slow breath, and Bucky can't tell if it's the water of the sea gliding down Her cheeks.

“You will be back. And we will see each other again.”

Reaching a hand to his face, She presses a couple of fingers to his forehead, and his eyes flutter closed. He slumps into a sleep, and before he falls, She raises both hands, bending the energy behind him, and She slowly lies him down in the sand.

“Goodbye, for now, James,” she whispers, trying not to mourn the pain of his future lifetime, before disappearing into the depths.

—

“—ucky, Bucky, Bucky, JAMES!”

Jenny shook him with all her might, tears threatening to spill. When Bucky’s eyes open, he becomes distressed too.

“Heya doll, easy! I’m alright, I swear it.”

She gasps in a shaky breath before they pull each other into a long hug. A few seconds in, he looks over her shoulder and out to the depths. Trying to get a grasp on the events of today, he hopes it all wasn't a dream. Then, he remembers Her words.. He suddenly feels warm, emotions rushing back in a flurry.

He gets the sudden ache to see his family, to see Steve, to go dancing. After all...

Nothing will stay as it is.

—

lovely darlings who are very inspirational:

@xbuchananbarnes @threeminutesoflife @invisibleanonymousmonsters @honeychicanawrites @thorsthot @avintagekiss24 @sapphirescrolls @jtargaryen18 @propertyofpoeandbucky @papi-chulo-bucky @tropicalcap @smollest-soybean

[thegeminisage]

alright im about to watch 5.03 of merlin for the 2nd time ever

because if i dont do it now i may NEVER GET ANOTHER CHANCE

but first i wanna get out of the way that i thought merlin convincing arthur to keep the ban on magic in 5.05 because he was trying to thwart ~*~destiny~*~ or whatever is the laziest writing ever, it’s unsatisfying for the audience, it renders the rest of the last season utterly pointless, it’s unfair to merlin and arthur, and the tonal shift of the show from farting trolls in season 2 to full greek tragedy in season 5 was completely unwarranted and i feel TRICKED as a human person because i expected the end to be bittersweet and make me sad, not table-flipping angry, and i do not at all have high hopes for the finale

but i can ignore something having a “bad last five minutes” i did it for life is strange and final fantasy 13-2 i will do it for merlin but honestly 

speaking on 5.03, after it was over the first time i was like “i can never write my fanfic now because nothing i ever do will be as good as that” but i’m really relieved in that way that that was apparently the last good episode of merlin because now i can continue my work in peace and maybe hopefully even actually finish it

okay commence the liveblog:

love that arthur and merlin are down to just jump off their horses whenever random women start screaming in the distance. season 5 could have been so good, they’re so much more grown up and in sync with one another, i absolutely LOVE their #vibe

it was interesting to me also that arthur DEMANDED a fair trial for this woman despite her being accused of sorcery. god, he was SO CLOSE?? that hatred of magic just can’t really take root in him especially with uther gone...arthur may be an asshole in the early seasons, and he may be quick to anger and quick to lash out in that anger, but it’s just not in him to be cruel, especially needlessly

EVEN THIS LADY IS LIKE “u showed kindness and compassion” arthur is a Good Boy deep down he is he IS he didn’t care a bit about that horn she gave him but still politely said it was beautiful

although lmao the way his face changed when she said it was magic...that’s the STUFF

lowkey losing it at athony head in the credits. i was looking to see if he’d be in the s5 ones since he’s dead and didn’t see him in 5.01 or 5.02 so when i DID see him in 5.03 i was like haha no way did they pay to put him in here i guess i just missed him the first couple of times BUT I WAS WRONG

like, in buffy, they spend an entire episode trying to decide whether or not to necromance their mom or whatever and she doesnt actually APPEAR IN THE EP they never SEE her i thought this would be an episode ABOUT uther i didn’t think uther would be IN it

love that from the get-go arthur’s face screams “i am thinking about making a terrible mistake” and merlin’s face is like “he is thinking about making a terrible mistake”

i’m quite proud of merlin in s5 actually. bad writing aside he uses multiple braincells many times per episode. it’s a vast improvement. same energy as clary from shadowhunters right down to getting shafted in his final season

ive said it before and ill say it again gwen looks SOOO GOOOOD as queen

if this is the anniversary of uther’s death then (if you go by 1 season = 1 year) arthur just turned 30...it’s been nine years and change since merlin met him, and by the end of season 5 it will have been an entire decade

in an otherwise increddibly heavy episode arthur panicking and throwing all the apples out of the bowl so he could cover the horn with it is absolutely priceless. season 5 if nothing else has really hammered home for me what a TERRIBLE liar arthur is - merlin got good at it fast out of necessity but arthur can’t hold a poker face to save his LIFE. “leave it.” “why??” “because i’m telling you to and i’m the king of camelot” buddy......

we were ROBBED. if there had ever been a day where arthur came to accept merlin’s magic but still had to help merlin hide it there could have been an entire episode of arthur nearly blowing merlin’s cover because he’s a nervous nelly and at the end he goes “i cant believe you have had to do this 24/7 for YEARS without a single friend to help you” and merlin goes “well now i have you” anyway.

i love also that repeatedly when arthur goes to do something scary by himself he also brings merlin. they LITERALLY are two halves of a whole

“you’re threatening me with a spoon??” i can’t tell you about the unfortunate fanfics i have seen involving The Spoon. i shall also not mention the ones involving The Glove. we will not speak of it

I CANNOT BELIEVE STONEHENGE IS IIN MERLIN. i got so agitated i did not pay one bit of attention to the conversation following its reveal and me and cathy and had to rewind so i could listen properly

my hate-on for stonehenge goes thusly: stonehenge apocalypse, starring misha collins, is @callowyn‘s favorite movie. i have seen it 45 times. i hate it nearly as much as she loves it. it’s an age-old battle

merlin is so intense when he looks for signs in arthur that he DOESN’T totally hate magic...arthur using magic to see his dad again is one of those signs. he’s willing to turn to it in desperation - maybe he’d be willing in less desperate times too

“my father was taken from me before his time” i mean...he was practically in a coma. so like. he wasn’t

love that when arthur mentions merlins dad ONCE he immediately looks like he’s about to cry. mood. i also want to cry every time i think about merlins dad

up until the moment i laid eyes on uther i was SURE they werent actually gonna do it. i came into this thinking it was a FLASHBACK EP

for the record (and believe me i NEVER thought i’d say this) even though i waited and waited for his demise and cheered when he was gona for good...i really missed uther in season 4. at least with uther you know what you’re getting. agravaine (his replacement as “evil guy who keeps us from being able to solve our problems too easily”) was a slimy cowardly CREEP. and in season 5 i WISH things were as simple as “work around uther’s pigheaded unreasonableness”

for a hot second i really thought uther and arthur would have a nice conversation where they reconciled or said something heartwarming. i was worried about an uther redemption arc - this guy is responsible for the genocide of magic users, he doesn’t deserve redemption - but this show said NOT TODAY and they said it QUICK

WE

ARE

SO

BLESSED

i have A LOT of issues with season 5 but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS WAS DADDY ISSUES 2.0 BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD

repressed trauma returns: harder better faster stronger!! that’s the STUFF

was i not just speaking the other day on my fanfic ask meme about how i love emotionally intense stuff? this is IT babey

uther’s such a bad father! he’s with his only child again for the last time in ever and all he does is tear him a new one! this is why arthur’s such a fucked-up human being (morgana too) 

i’m THRILLED we got to revisit this. his eyes get bigger and bigger and he starts fucking stammering and by the time uther’s done calling him weak and a failure he looks ready to CRY. i was HOLLERING. i still couldnt believe uther was even HERE and not only is he HERE he’s a WRECKING BALL

“this CAN’T be the last time i’ll ever see you” oh buddy you’re gonna wish it was

and he looks back, as he leaves. of COURSE he does. just like lot’s wife. so it goes.

you know how at the end of every supernatural episode sam and dean debrief and talk about their feelings in the car? for merlin and arthur it’s almost always done around a campfire at night - sometimes in arthur’s chambers or other places, but usually out here in the wilderness where it’s just the two of them. i’m...really going to miss it, when it’s gone.

“my father doesn’t approve of the way i’ve chosen to rule his kingdom” “you mean YOUR kingdom”

you know i don’t think i really got...like, fundamentally, on a deep level...that merlin fucking HATES uther

i’ve seen him save uther’s miserable life so many fucking times that i thought for merlin it was kind of the way it was with gwen - he feels nothing for him, but he looks after him for arthur’s sake (or as i came to understand later because he’s professor x about the whole thing)

but the way his expression got SO UGLY when arthur revealed that uther just shit-talked him the entire time...holy fuck

between that & some other stuff that happens later it really paints a clearer picture of like...uther’s dead so merlin doesn't have to hold back anymore and he FUCKING HATES HIM?? like obviously he SHOULD bu i just never SAW it before this. merlin LOATHES him. it’s INCREDIBLE to witness when he bore it so silently for so long. maybe even merlin didn’t realize just how much he hated him until now

and not to get too real here but if youve ever been friends with someone who had an abusive/toxic parent or was in an abusive/toxic relationship and you watch them feeling like shit after and they start making excuses for that asshole like “oh yeah he’s right about x” and you just want to find this horrible person and THROTTLE THEM that emotion is like ALL OVER merlin’s face rn. i didn’t actually seriously "”ship”” merlin and arthur until late season 4/early season 5 (i didnt like dislike it i just wasnt actively bothered by a lack of it) and what changed was this vibe. merlin wants to kill uther all over again just because he made arthur feel this way. he’s so fuckijng PROTECTIVE

and he still almost manages to drag a smile out of him via roasting, god bless these 2

ok so i didnt believe this show would actually DO THAT re: putting uther himself in this ep but i was doubly shocked by the fact that he HITCHED A RIDE AND GOT OUT

me shrieking during this entire poltergeist sequence: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT’S REALLY HIM?? HOLY FUCK HE IS LITERALLY HAUNTING ARTHUR I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE DOING THIS I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE GIVING US THIS etc etc etc

actually most of that was probably muffled nonsense because i was yelling with both hands over my mouth

percival’s the realest motherfucker on this whole show. dude survives a murder attempt in which he got an AXE lobbed at him by the fucking GHOST of a power-mad genocidal king and he’s like: yeah idk i guess it fell

there was thunder in the bg for this WHOLE ep and i’m Big into it

absolutely CACKLING at the bit where merlin has to ask arthur if he looked back at uther’s spirit. it’s one of those nice big heavy questions - so heavy, in fact, that arthur can’t answer, can’t even LOOK at merlin, either because he’s ashamed or because he’s bugging out or both. you thought this shit was over? it’s never over! daddy issues are a lifelong ride, pal! arthur’s just get to haunt him literally this time. god it’s so fucking good

can i just say? merlin reads that damning silence reeeal well. and it’s a big, heavy thing to know about arthur - but then again he knows all the big heavy things about arthur

the score for this episode is really good too...very suspenseful and good, adds a lot to the atmosphere, keeps it from getting too slow

there’s a hint of merlin’s absolute HATRED of uther in this conversation again - the way his face tightens when he says “uther would do anything to protect his legacy and that makes him dangerous, who knows what he’s capable of now”

and arthur dismisses him because he can’t hear this but merlin almost refuses to leave - and when he DOES leave, he doesn’t take his eyes off arthur for one fucking second. he stares him down all the way out of the room. i don’t think it’s because he’s angry with arthur, per se - he’s angry with uther, and he knows uther in a way arthur never can or will, as someone ruthless who will kill without warning or remorse. he’s afraid of uther and he’s trying to get arthur to be afraid of uther too before it’s too late and LSDKFJGHSLDFJH

if you’re thinking “thats a lot to interpret from one look” yes it is but i’m right. IT’S A BIG, HEAVY LOOK. NICE AND LOADED. love unpacking all of that

i cant believe this dude tried to KILL GWEN like he really is coming after everything that makes arthur happy. im so glad it was merlin that saved her. i really do think merlin is her best friend

multiple times in this serious arthur fidgets when he’s nervous or thinking, usually with his hands near his mouth. i am endeared to him. my poor boy

“i always knew my father could be cruel but why would he do this to gwen when he knows i love her” BECAUSE HE’S CRUEL

merlin knows. merlin knows his cruelty much better than arthur. boy does he know. i’m dying. it’s fine

love that at this part of the ep we slide seamlessly into the “merlin and arthur are both scared shitless” section which was truly one of my favorite things about the s4 opener. they’re both so fucking jumpy and giving each other shit about being frightened and continuing to be frightened anyway. the DELICIOUS IRONY of arthur finally being scared of uther in the way merlin has been scared of uther for Y E A R S oh my god it’s so GOOD

do also love the entire silent conversation they have when deciding what to do about the door. this is what i mean by their upgraded vibe.l in the early seasons merlin wouldn’t have understood and his lack of understanding would have been played for laughs. now they’re totally in sync

here’s the thing, gaius could have made this magic “able to see uther’s ghost” potion for just arthur and he didn’t. he made it for both of them. everything arthur does merlin does. they’re partners in all things. they’re COMPANIONS. and this is why i finally now Ship It. tragic.

you know this is a kind of weird comparison but late seasons arthur reminds me JUST a bit of gwaine. he complains so much less that he sort of has that same “roll with whatever” vibe to him. pretend to faint so you can steal some guy’s dagger? why not. take this foul potion that may kill us? sure, let’s do it. come what may he’s not really fussed. much more unflappable

until he starts getting spooked again LMFAO 

we do love a good pair of spooked dumbasses. this is charming and entertaining.

leon HAD to know they were lying about poetry. he probably thought they were having.......a tryst,

love also that even in this very dire moment merlin does NOT miss the chance to have some fun at arthur’s expense. that’s true friendship

i got jumpscared three separate times during this ep and one of them was when uther was glaring down merlin and arthur in the hallway after leon left

arthur didn’t jump but he did go hunting after him and to his credit he does not look scared. he looks like a man who is trying to deal with his business and get his shit together

merlin made that FACE again when arthur expressed sadness at hunting his own father because all he ever wanted to DO was make him proud

honestly it’s like since he can’t shit-talk uther he just sings arthur’s praises instead like this here is a guy who is just barely holding his tongue about how fuckin pissed he is. i cant believe it

splitting up was the WORST idea. have they not seen scooby doo??

love that when merlin gets cornered by uther’s ghost and gets scared he yells for arthur and when arthur gets scared because his torch blows out he yells for merlin. you fools, why did you SPLIT UP

uther locks arthur in the room with him, which is already some top tier content, but doubly good? it’s the same room in which arthur nearly ran him through in 2.08. don’t think i didn’t notice. i did notice. i was shrieking into my hands.

seriously this is a pretty calm liveblog but the first time i watched this ep my face was like this the whole time: O O

just kept going “HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” over and over. it was greeat

“arthur your fatal flaw is that you put too much trust in other people” do you think arthur, who now has a complex about people betraying him, ever forgot that for one second in his entire life afterward? me neither

speaking of 2.08 arthur dropped some FACTS “your hatred comes from fear” i'm sure they didn’t do it on purpose but #throwbacks

i’m fully experiencing human emotion. “i’m not you, i can’t rule like you did” he’s trying SO HARD to fight his way out of that bullshit

also lmao arthur like “then you’ll have to kill me” and uther like “yeah okay” arthur didn’t KNOW how this man was this could have been SUCH a good awakening

AND NOW IT’S TIME

FOR MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS EPISODE

when i say merlin hates uther. WHEN I SAY MERLIN H A T E S UTHER

HIS LINE HERE. ok. “get away from him, uther. you’ve caused enough harm” he’s furious! he’s GROWLING! 

“you are just a serving boy” “i am much more than that” listen. human words cannot express the emotion that ran through me. when they said “we’re gonna bring back anthony head as uther” i doubted. when they said “he’s gonna be the bad guy and reopen all of arthur’s old wounds” i doubted. when they said “he’s still here LITERALLY haunting arthur who now has to HUNT HIM” I DOUBTED. i didn’t believe they’d do any of it until it was happening on my screen. but ONE LOOK at merlins face made a MOTHERFUCKING BELIEVER out of me. i knew exactly what he was about to do. pretty sure i gasped “NO” in astonishment

AND HE DID THAT

HE👏

DID👏

THAT👏

NOT ONLY. DID I SHRIEK ALOUD. FULL SCREAM. WHEN IT HAPPENED THE FIRST TIME. BUT JUST NOW. WHEN I WATCHED HIM DO IT AGAIN. MORE SCREAMING.

how LONG do you think merlin had ACHED to do that

to show himself to uther for what he was, what he REALLY WAS, someone to be reckoned with instead of someone to be overlookedd, without fear of consequences

i can’t even like

like just imagine the triple rush of 1. satisfaction 2. rage 3. lingering habitual terror

i think at this moment merlin was closer to and more like morgana than he had ever been and maybe ever will be again. because the two of them have so much in common but one thing i didn’t really clock until now is how much they both hate uther

it’s so good. uther is SHOCKED and DISMAYED and this is like merlin’s old fear come back from death too (getting found out by uther) while at the same time being a dream come true (getting to tell uther what he really thinks, who he really is - “i was BORN with it!”) he’s so ANGRY! he is LIVID!)

he’s also really SATISFIED like “even while you were king there was magic at the heart of camelot” GOD how long has he been WAITING for this and not even realized it

and like then uther starts spewing his hateful bullshit and stalking forward with the intent to kill and my guy merlin who should be terrified STANDS HIS MOTHERFUCKING GROUND and says right over him “you’re wrong, you’re wrong” for thirty beautiful seconds merlin really got to be free. i know i will keep comparing things to 2.08 until i die but it’s just like when arthur was almost ready to kill uther in cold blood because for one perfect, brilliant moment he really and truly saw clearly the world as it was. i really love these moments...the strength of their respective convictions is so gratifying

merlin yeeting uther through a door is also gratifying although i have no idea what he hoped to accomplish by following without waking arthur first

i. LOVE. that the camera lingered a little on the spears or whatever after merlin walked by them. nice little foreshadowing moment

THOSE SPEARS GOT AWFULLY CLOSE BUT IM PRETTY SURE UTHER MISSED ON PURPOSE BECAUSE HE WANTED TO TAKE HIS TIME. HIS MISTAKE

okay merlin spent the better part of a lifetime dreading uther’s death sentence and here’s uther stalking down a hallway sword pointed at his chest and certain death is IMMINENT and what does merlin’s face look like?

arthur comes in with the rescue and INSTANTLY his expression changes to?

IT’S BETTER IN MOTION BUT HE LOOKS READY TO CRY

my immediate thought: oh jesus what if uther outs him

i knew he wouldnt bc of spoilers but i would bet a benjamin that that was merlin’s first thought too

tbh. i wish he had.

i kind of wonder if merlin doesn’t wish the same thing. like yes being outed like that is terribly violating and he’s terrified of telling arthur obviously or he would have already but at the same time there would be so much relief once it was finally out. no more secret-keeping. no more burden

i mean, if you go back and watch it, dude’s straight up shaking. he’s trembling all over. he’s losing it. that last teary glance they exchanged.......

uther was two SYLLABLES away from blowing the whole thing

and in a better happier canon where arthur knows and was waiting for merlin to tell him this is like double angst because uther wouldve ben blowing something for them both

i like arthurs followup of realizing that he’ll never be able to please uther (step 1 of breaking away from the cycle of abuse) but for the LIFE OF ME

i will NEVER be able to understand why they segued into this GLOVE THING

i’m not talking about the glove thing

i will say however that by the end of this episode i was so hysterical i had to get up and get water and pace around my kitchen for ten minutes fanning my own face

and that’s it. that’s the second-best episode of merlin and the last good episode there ever was

[thisisasupergoodidea]

alright, this took forever because i kept getting sidetracked, but here it is. the universe ive slowly been building up. it took so long to write. its so ridiculously lengthy. i almost want to apologize to you if you read it oh my god 
the main story in this universe is project four, in which four people meet Death and tag along on its quest to convince a space wyrm not to eat the world. the death figure, kymoyef, evades capture for nearly 1000 years following the event that takes place in the four cities, observing people and steadily learning about the world as it stores energy for the big confrontation. as an energy being in the form of an object, kymoyef struggles with applying the concept of personhood to itself, but the four people who insert themselves into its business help it understand who it wants to be
kymoyef’s companions love to ask questions and tell stories, one of which is an old folk tale about morality that they know as the four cities. in it, a godlike character asks kymoyef to visit four corrupt cities and raze them to the ground should their corruption be confirmed, so that the seeds of new civilization can be sown in their place. kymoyef goes to the first three places and, finding vanity, enmity, and apathy, destroys them without question. but upon reaching the fourth city and encountering suffering and hopelessness, kymoyef begins to question whether any of these people truly deserved erasure. it refuses to complete its task and instead goes into hiding to plot against the godlike character. kymoyef reveals that this tale is (generally) true 
then i began fussing over details and ended up developing a plot within Sorrowstone, the city of suffering and hopelessness, where i show up close just how depressing it is through the perspective of a newcomer named rin. he joins the camp (which has no name historically since no one remembers it really existed) to escape his past and soon realizes that his stay would be permanent. the endless labor, the bleak and isolated environment, the meager food and supplies, the rampant depression of every other person in the camp - all of this combined prevented anyone from being of sound mind enough to leave. rin sees one death and promptly decides he has a duty to write down everything he observed, whether anyone would ever see it or not. that is the sorrowstone account 
ok. back to the top. one of the four protagonists, caforleh, absolutely loves hearing stories and using them as inspiration for his own grand tales. i really wanted to feel justified in brainstorming for a completely separate project that had nothing to do with project four, so i clapped my hands together and declared that caforleh occasionally works on a piece of fiction that is my project inheritance, in which generation after generation of a particular lineage of siblings are all cursed to the same fate. in their lives, only and always two children will be born, quite often twins, and one will die by the actions of the other at some point. the most recent siblings are separated at a very young age after the murder of their mother, but years later one dies all too suddenly and the adults involved are sent into a panic trying to hide it from the other sibling. magic shit happens and basically you have the dead ones consciousness in the body of their sibling, not realizing theyre dead yet technically alive again, and the living ones consciousness is bound to a piece of paper in a wizard’s pocket. and everyone’s trying to run away from a cult faction that wants their leader back, but surprise, the living sibling was their leader. its a convoluted mess 
in the background of this mess i found a nice little home for the magic pendant, a story that is literally just my 11th grade spanish project. a guy has a cool magic pendant. some magic dude steals it. the guy and his friend get a magic knife from a magic squirrel and kick magic dudes ass. so magical. i took that and pumped in extra details that made me happy, and now its officially enough of a story to be included 
once more to the top. within the world of project four, one of the regions is plagued by a deep rift that scarred the land when scientist daiah’s experiment went horribly wrong. it swallowed several cities and poisoned the people and land around it. the survivors call that area daiah’s shame and send excommunicated criminals there to die as punishment. what they have yet to discover is that the rift is truthfully a tear upon their plane of existence, acting as an opening into an adjacent plane where pure energy resides. the land and people lost in the experiment fell into this other plane perfectly intact, but being that the two planes were never meant to interact in this way, were shortly infected with unknowable ailments. people slowly lost their sanity, their agency, anything that made them who they were. they either became husks or sought violence to distract themselves from their own pain. and the only freedom was to be killed, for time affected nothing in this plane. no one could grow old. the sky never moved. plants absorbed strange air and gnarled into bloated bastardizations 
this is the reality that the protagonists of project dark souls ripoff fell into. wayrain had been traveling with a known criminal through daiah’s shame in the hopes of reaching a region beyond it, and his friend cadmor was secretly a member of law enforcement tasked with making sure the criminal died there. when this was revealed, the three fought and all of them stumbled into the rift to be spat out in the desolate climate of the lost region. i was heavily inspired by dark souls in creating all of this, so honestly just imagine the opening scene of whichever dark souls game and you’ve got the idea of it. wayrain and cadmor have to navigate this sickly area that theyve hardly even heard stories of while also dealing with dangerous people, feeling betrayed by one another, and creeping afflictions. much like rin and caforleh, wayrain takes to learning as much as he possibly can about the surroundings and compiling it all into journals. he travels ceaselessly and does his best to uncover every last mystery, from lost libraries to unmarked graves. cadmor battles his imitation morality as he eases into another role of leadership. the two will clash several times but ultimately reconcile before kymoyef shows up to assess the condition of the rift 
and project fire girl is kinda out of place because it feels entirely standalone, but its actually the origin of most of this stuff, so im hoping i can find a way to squeeze it in somehow. its about a person who wakes up in a fire with no knowledge of how she got there and wanders around aimlessly dealing with the destructive repercussions of her mysterious fire powers, which she can barely control. i know. its sort of like frozen but with fire. but hey spoiler alert: she’s actually a wizard scientist (you can tell i really like my wizards and scientists) that, alongside her cousin, did awful experiments on people in the name of magic science, imbuing them with different forms of magic just to see what happens. and she gave herself fire powers because why the hell not. but the internal flame was so painful that the trauma of it elicited amnesia. she regains these memories in time by meeting the people plagued by the consequences of her actions. not knowing shes the one that did this to them, they work together with her and carry out a plan to expose the other wizard scientist. in the final confrontation, she admits that she regrets what shes done even if the academic community learned a lot from it, and allows herself to be imprisoned 
yeah. like i said, project fire girl was the first narrative in this universe, which came from a dream where she was taken in by an old couple and their adopted daughter and awoke in a bed of bright petals, only to realize that she accidentally set the house on fire in her sleep, killing the whole family. the imagery was so vivid that it stuck with me. project four originated from one of my old minecraft worlds that i unfortunately deleted by mistake and then tried to rebuild. but i couldnt remember what the old build was called so i called it arenos, and that became the first region. once i decided that fire girl was gonna be set in some mountains and that those mountains bordered arenos, i was officially on my way to creating what is now this world. and then more detail happened and kymoyef happened and the concept of the four cities being parallels to the four regions in the world sounded neat but i got carried away and wanted to try to recreate the four cities in minecraft, and only did sorrowstone, so i started to think of what depressing shit went on in that place and wrote a little bit about it 
the dark souls ripoff is, of course, a blatant ripoff of dark souls, but its also a combination of A) another neat dream i had that was just two people traveling on horseback through cold morning fog and being ambushed - one was killed and the other crawled to a nearby basement and hid for an eternity, until the landscape had entirely changed hundreds of years later - and B) a totally separate dream where two people were traveling on horseback through cold evening fog, trying to reach some uncertain destination after having to leave their entire lives behind because they were magic. i was like “i’ve just added two more regions to my world. what if this region has a big rift in it - oh, what if this person hid through the rift incident that sent them to an alternate plane - no wait, what if these other characters were traveling through the rift area and fell in?” 
project inheritance was first called dark souls ripoff 2 because it deals with souls being portable and consumable and the two siblings have to deal with increasing insatiability for souls to keep themselves alive after having their consciousnesses ripped from their bodies. but this story was originally gonna be a text adventure game with like seven hundred endings (im exaggerating a little) testing your ability to forgive and manage your bloodlust. i know. its like a bootleg undertale. i cant have an original thought even if that thought happened two years before the popular thing happened 
thats about it i guess. thats the beginners guide to my utterly incomplete creative endeavors. i have some other ideas that would be neat to pursue but they dont belong in this particular universe as of right now. i might find a way to make them fit. i might not

[allofbeercom]

The brave new world of the xx, pop’s brooding perfectionists

Solo success, confronting grief, sobering up the feted London trio talk frankly about how the events of the past four years informed their new album, I See You

The three members of the xx cross from Poland into Lithuania overnight, trying to sleep inside a bus that judders and lurches along an uneven border road. It is December, an unforgiving time to be touring eastern Europe, and snow that was coming in committedly when they left Warsaw still falls when they arrive in Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital. Its cold here, beer-jacket weather, hot-toddy weather, get-messed-up-after-the-gig-to-distract-from-the-bite weather. But the band Oliver Sim, Romy Madley Croft, Jamie Smith travel in good, sober order. They toured their first album, in 2010, blinkingly, greenly, through a fog of personal tragedy. Two years later they got through a second-album tour mostly by partying wherever they went. (Moving from encore to after-show chasing the night, as the band phrase it in a new song, Replica.) When we meet, the release of album number three, I See You, is looming. For various reasons they expect to take this one around the world in steadier, less emotionally hectic fashion.

Arriving in central Vilnius at 10am, the trio alight from the tour bus and teeter over icy pavement, straight to their hotel rooms for some extra sleep. Im in the lobby waiting for them when they emerge, one by one, at midday. Sim (27 years old, bassist and co-vocalist) appears in a splendid fur-lapelled coat. His enormous green eyes lend him at once a striking handsomeness as well as the perpetual suggestion of worry. More so than Sim, Madley Croft (27, lead guitar and vocals) is dressed for her terrain: leather boots, hoodie, black-camo raincoat, a hat over her dark shoulder-length hair. A stitched image on the hat is faded and hard to distinguish and when I ask her what it is she answers in a soft, whistling voice: Three babies dancing. She says she found the hat in a skate shop somewhere. Smith (28, percussion and production) might have found his entire outfit in a Sports Direct somewhere. He comes down in Nike T-shirt, Adidas trackies, his copper curls sprouting over the strap of a backwards-turned cap.

Theres something drastic and strange about Smiths appearance that takes a moment for me to identify. Hes smiling. I find this hard to reconcile with our last encounter.

In the hotel lobby, the band and I reminisce about meeting last time, more than four years ago, when I shadowed them for a couple of days as they toured through Los Angeles. They were about to debut Coexist, their second album, high in the British and American charts. Their first album, xx, had won the Mercury prize in the UK and gone gold in the US. Its sound sexily gnomic lyrics sung huskily over precise and chilly synths was exerting a blatant influence on the music industry, imitators of the xx springing up all over the place. Now Baz Luhrmann was courting them for one of his soundtracks, and he showed up one night in Hollywood to buy rounds of drinks. The band went to after-parties backstage at the Ford theatre, by the pool at the Chateau Marmont, on the roof of a downtown hotel.

Watch the video for the xxs single On Hold.

I remember the experience for the hilarious difficulty of interviewing Smith, who was then emerging as the silent genius of the group, an unfeasibly talented engine-room operator who was responsible for so much of their musics distinctive and influential texture. At the time he betrayed none of the weight or assurance of someone with great and growing industry clout. Instead he seemed to trust that if he stayed quiet enough during our encounters I might forget he was there.

These days Smith tells stories, tells jokes. While he speaks he taps his fingers in time to some imagined and apparently buoyant interior music. If theres a reticence to him, still, it transmits as a cooler and more grown-up nonchalance. Life, is his deadpan explanation for the transformation. I went from being 23 to 28. It happens to everyone. Perhaps theres a little more to say. Under his solo stage name, Jamie xx has long tended a fertile sideline as a DJ and a producer of other artists work. In summer 2015 he released an album of his own, In Colour, that was enough of a hit to fuel a substantial world tour. He was nominated for the Mercury and Grammy awards. Its easy to see how much Jamies changed, says Madley Croft. Its obvious, because of his personal career hes more confident.

Sim and Madley Croft made guest appearances on their friends solo record. But this was very much Smiths project, one that had been building up for quite a while, and its gestation contributed directly to the years-long wait between the xxs second and third albums. The band started writing material for I See You as long ago as 2014. But the finish line, as Sim describes it, kept getting pushed further away into the future. He is diplomatic about the difficulty of Jamie just not being available. Even though he was really pushing himself, and not giving himself time off, getting face-time with him was tricky. Smith is apologetic. I was busy doing my thing. It was going well. I was happy in that way. But I was also anxious about finishing our [group] record. I definitely felt bad, coming and going. And I did understand that Romy and Oliver were really anxious to finish it. Because they didnt have They obviously had things going on. But they didnt have a creative outlet.

The band get ready to leave the hotel for an afternoon of rehearsals. Before we spill out into taxis I take Sim out of earshot of the other two, and ask: What about jealousy? We cant always rely on ourselves, as humans, to be perfectly delighted by our friends achievements. What did you and Romy really feel while Jamie was flying solo?

There were moments when I felt jealous of his time, Sim says.

And of his success?

Sim speaks carefully. I think of jealousy as: I dont want you to have this. And I felt proud of Jamie. I felt pleased for him that he had all of this going on. But, at the same time, I wanted this. Me and Romy wanted this. We wanted to be back up there, on stage, with a fire lit underneath us.

The trio strongly believe the hiatus has been beneficial to their music. I agree. After his secondment in a more dancefloor-orientated world, Smith has brought back with him to the xx a sense of pace and playfulness, obvious from the very first hands-in-the-air bars of the new record. Across its length the album has a brewed, stewy, experience-enriched quality, subtly but importantly different from the older stuff, which always had terrific clarity but which could lack human warmth.

From a bald commercial perspective the bands absence does not seem to have unduly alienated the fanbase. All tickets for seven nights at Londons Brixton Academy in March recently sold out. Still, there have been some surreal moments for Sim and Madley Croft during their semi-enforced sabbatical. They describe to me how bizarre it felt, trotting along to watch Smith play alone at Brixton, a spiritual home of sorts for the xx and a place they had played many times together. Only now two-thirds of the band were stood among the audience craning like everyone else to see over the next head.

Rehearsals are taking place at the venue for tonights show, a mid-sized arena on the outskirts of Vilnius. I ride there in a cab with Madley Croft, who has a digital camera and takes occasional pictures of the bleak winter landscape. Touring, she says, means seeing countries through the windows of cars. Tomorrow the band will fly to Japan. After that Australia, then Scandinavia, and eventually back for those Brixton dates and four other UK shows. They were on a killer tour the last time we met too. Then, they spoke to me about how strange an existence it was, their every need taken care of while they moseyed from encore to after-party. They made it sound cloying but also comforting, cocoon-ing, in Madley Crofts phrase. At the time I wondered what the effects might be, of the long tour finishing and all the machinery of the band falling away, leaving them to their own devices again.

It took an adjustment, Madley Croft says, of varying degrees for the three of them. She thinks Sim probably found it the hardest. Oliver, to me, is the natural performer of the band. I know he gets a lot of confidence from performing. And I sensed he might not be quite sure what his place was, for a while, when we were off stage. For herself, Madley Croft used the time away to address private matters shed ignored for some time. Stuff from the past. Losses Ive had. It all kind of hit me.

Smith, AKA Jamie xx, playing Londons Hyde Park last summer. Because of his personal career, hes more confident, says bandmate Photograph: RMV/Rex/Shutterstock

Wed touched lightly on this in Los Angeles her difficult backstory, intimately and pretty cruelly interwoven with the backstory of her band. She was only 11, in 2001, when her mother died. (This was a few years before she started writing music with Sim a friend from school in Putney, London as a form of escapism.) Her father died in early 2010 when she was 20. (By now, with Smith, another schoolfriend, the three were established as the xx. They were performing an early show in Paris when the news about Madley Crofts father reached them.) Towards the end of 2010 a close friend of hers, a cousin, died too. (The band had just won the Mercury and were becoming quite famous.) By the time I met them all in Los Angeles, Madley Croft was 22. Shed barely stopped touring or recording since her double bereavement in 2010, and I got the sense of a young woman putting a lot on hold.

The last few years have been, for me, about facing all of it, she explains. At the time I just went for it. Encore, after-party, encore, after-party. Its only on reflection I think how intense everything must have been, and how I just pushed it down. But everything comes up. Ive learned that everything comes up.

When we met before she was in the first months of a relationship with a designer, Hannah Marshall, who was then travelling with the band. They were sweet together, newly and sorely inked with matching tattoos patently in deep, even though Madley Croft seemed a little awkward in a public setting, as if she was getting used to her band-life and love-life intermingling. When we first got together Hannah was always so much better in social situations than me. I felt so shy. But through being with her I feel so much more at ease. Ive noticed thats happened in a different way with me than it has with the boys. And I know its because Ive been with someone.

The couple recently got engaged. It was the stability of the relationship, Madley Croft says, that gave her the grounding she needed to look squarely at her past. She went from pushing down thoughts about her parents to actually kind of craving going to therapy and dealing with it… Its an ongoing thing, she says. I feel like Ive dealt with a chunk. With a hell of a lot more than I ever did before. And the self-examination has borne creative fruit. Right in the middle of the xxs new album comes its tenderest and most nakedly spiritual track, Brave for You, a song that Madley Croft wrote about drawing strength from the memory of her parents.

We pull into the car park of the venue, sure weve got the right place because we can see the steaming figure of Sim, shivering in his coat, smoking a cigarette. Together he and Madley Croft clomp inside, shed their layers, and walk to the stage. She takes up her Les Paul guitar, he his Fender, and behind them on an elevated platform Smith finds his place among an array of mixers and synthesisers. Performing for an empty arena, they play a few old songs and a couple of newer ones, including Brave for You. Smith taps out a high rhythmic pulse. Sim waits for his moment to apply some bass. Madley Croft closes her eyes and sings: When Im scared/ I imagine you there/ Telling me to be brave

Madley Croft with her fiancee, designer Hannah Marshall. Photograph: David M Benett/Getty Images for Equipment

The rehearsal lasts a long time: hours. I perch with Smith in his mixing station and watch over his shoulder as the trio pick through 20-odd songs. Sometimes the noise, ringing off the exposed concrete of the arena, is tremendous. During uptempo songs Smith starts dancing, big-stepping in time like a cowboy at a line dance, thrashing his head like a metalhead in a mosh pit. Impossible to imagine, Madley Croft says, the old Jamie doing this.

Sim, frowning, the least at ease on stage today, unsticks a printed set list from the floor. He thinks back to the previous gig in Poland and says: Oh. I spoke in the wrong place last night. After a lifetime trying to maintain belief in the spontaneity of artist-to-audience banter, its a little shattering for me to learn that the xx arrange their chatty interludes in advance. But these guys are precision workers, broody perfectionists; and theyre rusty in their stagecraft after so long apart. When they rehearse a mid-gig spectacular of mashed-up songs, the music builds and builds, smoke machines gushing, some glorious climax imminent until at the clinching moment Smith slaps a button on his mixer and a deafening error-sound hums around the arena.

Everyone flinches. Argggh, shouts Smith. The mixer is unplugged and hauled away in machine-disgrace. The band take a break. Smith consults a roadie about a replacement. Sim drifts off stage. Madley Croft picks up her phone and taps out a message to��someone.

Im starting to see that these three took very different paths away from their last album. Madley Croft into domestic stability and a worked-for interior peace. Smith into self-affirming solo work. Sims route took him where? He has always been the xxs most elliptical member, a charming if skittish, ambiguous interviewee. Unlike Madley Croft he has resisted overt statements about his sexuality. And the particulars of his family background, apparently as troubled as hers, remain much more opaque. When the New Yorker published a deep-digging profile of the band in 2014, the reporter was obliged to include a vague line about Sims early life, which was scarred by family dysfunction that he declines to discuss. Madley Croft has grown over time into openness, Smith into sureness. Sim seems still on his way somewhere.

Maybe theres a clue in the new music. I See You has a couple of tracks that come over as more direct and less cryptic than anything else in the bands back catalogue. A Violent Noise, for example, seems to be about partying too much, overdoing it (Youve been staying out late/ Trying your best to escape). In a subsequent track, Replica, chiefly written and sung by Sim, it sounds as if an unnamed parent is being addressed: Ive turned out just like you They all say I will become a replica/ [That] your mistakes were only chemical 25 and youre just like me Is it in my nature to be stuck on repeat?

Photograph: Suki Dhanda for the Observer

Away from the rehearsal I sit down with Sim and tell him the lyrics to Replica register, to me at least, as a kind of confession. A child of addiction, growing up to worry he has become an addict himself, wondering if the problem is unavoidable and hereditary or whether he can go down a different path. Does that sound accurate?

Sim, his large eyes open to their fullest extent, stares over my head for a while. Then he clears his throat and says: Um. Well. Thats kind of bang on, your reading.

He takes a breath. Yeah. Just kind of That was a big thing to deal with, over the past couple of years. Just kind of dealing with my relationship with using [drugs]. With drinking. And, um. And also my parents. Yeah. He says its a shock to realise that the private matters underlying this song have come over so plainly. This conversation is a bit of an eye-opener.

He started writing Replica, he says, a couple of years ago. Before I was taking any action. Or saying anything out loud. The bands 2012 tour had finished. The pace we were moving at stopped, suddenly. It was a pretty flaky existence Yknow, I left school thinking I wanted to live my life like a nomad, free-floating. Turns out I absolutely need some kind of structure. Living back in London again, structure-less, he thought of his drinking and drug-taking as blowing off steam. Later, I started to wonder if it was still charming to be the drunkest person in a room.

His decision to seek help took a while. A long, drawn-out decision. Smith was away gigging. Madley Croft was travelling the US with her girlfriend. I felt a bit lost. The schoolfriends all describe this period end of 2014, start of 2015 as the farthest apart theyd been from one another, geographically but emotionally too. As Madley Croft puts it: We werent in tune. Jamie was on tour. Oliver wasnt being entirely truthful with me about what he was going through. Walls were up.

When they did regather, Sim brought them the lyrics to Replica. Madley Croft recalls the moment. I thought: This is very real. Even though everything we do is real, this felt more transparent? It felt brave. And I loved that he let me in, to discuss it.

Sim makes it sound inevitable it should be writing, rather than talking, that helped bring down the walls between the band. Im a lot better and braver in songwriting than I am in conversation.

He says he has noticed, of course, how much his two friends have evolved in recent years. Theyve come on in leaps and bounds. He says he feels more sluggish in his own progress, a bit stunted People are like, So Jamies done his record and toured the world. What have you done? To be honest, Ive just been at home, figuring stuff out. He doesnt seem to realise that hes made the most progress of everyone. I ask him how long hes been sober.

Watch the video for the xxs Say Something Loving.

Eleven months, he says.

And?

And lifes been transitional, he says, smiling shyly. Quite a shift. Tonights show in Vilnius, for instance, the fifth of the current tour, will be the fifth show hes done in his career without drink. Its why I dont maybe feel so confident here. I dont have that support. I dont have my booze blanket. Everything feels more raw.

Are you happier?

Im. He stops and considers. Im Yes, I am happy. Im sort of adjusting to a different pace of life. But yeah, Im good. I feel anxious. About the next year [of touring], and being away from home. I wonder how its going to play out. But Im excited too. He might be about to experience the beginnings of a music career for a second time. I realise I was never entirely present before. Booze took away the nerves. But it also, like, definitely capped the highs. If hes sacrificed some self-confidence, he says, at least hes gained some self-understanding. Madley Croft agrees. I think hes getting to know himself. Who he is, as a 27-year-old, not as a performer on stage, but in life. Im really proud of him.

Soon enough their rehearsal resumes. Theres not long to go until the show now, and fans are beginning to appear in the snow outside. The band practise what will be the nights final run of songs. They try Intro, one of the first things they ever wrote together, as well as a new track, a happy-sad doozy called On Hold, which explores the ways in which life can seem to move at different speeds for different people. Transitioning from the old song to the new, Smith turns a dial on his mixer. Madley Croft steps forward and sings her half of the shared lyrics, Sim his. Then they sway, gently, by their mic stands.

At the end of the song the two guitarists lay down their instruments. Smith tidies his things. Madley Croft walks around taking a few photographs of the arena before it fills with people. Sim, before he leaves the stage, attaches a small light to his microphone stand. So that hell be able to find his way back to it, later, in the dark.

I See You is out now on Young Turks. The xx play UK shows from 4-17 March

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/the-brave-new-world-of-the-xx-pops-brooding-perfectionists/