#toad senior

[birthday-hell]

Usopp

Happy Birthday

April 1

[the-phantom-author]

I have to take college classes senior year

Than make you're to balance them out with your really fun easy electives

[hauntedbestie]

Think I’m gonna wear makeup more. Felt nice putting some on today

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [3/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond, a little angst cuz Aemond hates himself :( and they keep making fun of Aemond.

WC: 3307

Summary: If Aemond told his old self that he was interested in a wildling’s offer, he would laugh at himself.

He remembered it like it was yesterday.

Marked by a sense of decay and neglect, Harrenhal stood there with its ruins as the sky turned grey and Vhagar’s roar was heard all over the riverlands. Aemond Targaryen has overtaken Harrenhal, slaying everyone in sight. Proudly standing as his men dragged every enemy they could find, he smirked. Looking down to his opponent, ser Simon Strong kneeled before the one eyed prince. 

“Where does your loyalty truly lies?,” Aemond asked to the aged senior of house strong. “My loyalty is only to my house. I shall do what is needed to survive,” Ser Simon admitted, panting and slightly disheveled after losing the duel. “You take me as a fool, old man?” Aemond angrily said. “The day you surrendered Harrenhal to my uncle, Daemon Targaryen was the day you pledged your loyalty to the blacks. Which makes you a traitor to the throne.” With a scowl, he ordered his men to drag the remaining strong family away from the castle. “And you know what happens to traitors?” With a grimace smile, he leans down to ser Simon. 

“They perish.”

Aemond walks ahead, leading his men towards the hill where Vhagar rests. Ser Simon knew of prince Aemond’s cruelty and insanity, his family cried with pleas as they were dragged into their deaths. 

“M-my prince..I beg of you,” ser Simon pleads, rushing to grip Aemond’s cloak. 

“Spare me. Spare my family. M-my great n-nephew sits on your council-,”

“–And what does that have to do with your treacherous act?”

“Please! He will ask you to spare us–,”

“–That toad has abandoned you long before the war. He does not care for you or your family’s safety,” Aemond said, pulling his cloak away from ser Simon’s grip. “Harrenhal is yours, my prince! We have surrendered, what more could you ask for?!” Ser Simon pleaded once again. Abruptly stopping his tracks, Aemond turned his body towards ser Simon. Glaring at the old man, for he saw red when a strong dared to ask him what they could ask for more for his mercy. 

“House Strong has tainted my family more than enough!” His voice boomed, making everyone freeze at their place. “The day your family stepped into my father’s council was nothing but a mistake! Especially when poor Lyonel Strong brought his two sons. One of them bedded my half-sister producing her deceased bastard son that took my eye. Then the other, who is a crippled and a rat,” Aemond spat. “How many more Strongs shall ruin my family, hm? Not to mention you pledged your loyalty to my uncle, Daemon Targaryen. Where is he now? He has abandoned you. All of you.”

Ser Simon could not say a word at first after seeing the kinslayer’s wrath. But he knew his reason. 

“Then you’re here to kill us. To cover your sins after murdering your nephew, Lucer-,”

“If you dare to say his name one more time, I shall give you a slow and torturous death, you old toad,” Aemond warned. 

“Our fate has been sealed the day your family step foot into Harrenhal. I do not expect less from you,” ser Simon bravely said. Aemond could only hum and ordered his men to continue drag them up to the hill where the old dragon stood. 

To cover his sins. 

To wash away his sins with fire and blood. 

To wash away his guilt. 

Convincing himself that what he’s doing is right. 

The Strongs must perish under his hands. 

“Naejot Māzīs, Vhagar,” Aemond called out. 

The old dragon was awaken, putting itself up with its feet. His men lined the strongs in front of Vhagar. As Aemond took his time, he stood between the strongs and his dragon, looking down upon the house he loathes proudly, he spoke with a cocky grin, “Any last strong words, house Strong?”

All of them were silent, refusing to speak for they don’t want to gain satisfaction from the one eyed prince. But then ser Simon opened his mouth, “I shall tell Lucerys what you have become. For he is lucky to not witness the war that you’ve started.” 

That you’ve started.

That Aemond have started.

Gripping his sword, Aemond saw red. 

“Dracarys.” 

Splash. 

Aemond was brought back to the present. 

Sitting on the floors of castle black, his hands were tied as he gasped when the cold water touched his skin. Surrounded by the members of the watch, the Lord Commander hovers above him, “Thought we lost ya there for a second,” he mocked. Then it all came to Aemond’s senses. When he failed to kill or even capture the wildling, he was taken to the Lord Commander to be punished. He recalled the Lord Commander shouting at him for nearly hours to the point it gave him a pain in the head. But when he thought he was done for the day, he finds himself being dragged away. 

Facing the consequences. 

Got a nice beating till he passed out. 

“You hear me, Targaryen?”

The Lord Commander gripped Aemond’s hair, forcing him to look up to the northener with his one eye. “I said, what were you doing with that wildling?” Aemond knew that he could’ve just told the commander what the wildling has offered him, yet his mind told him not to. For he does not know what the northerners would do to him if they knew of the wildling’s offer. He was assumed as a traitor already, what use of him to make them doubt him even more? “She said nothing,” Aemond grits, holding his pain when the Lord Commander gripped his hair all the way to his scalp. “Then why did you fail to capture her? Or to even behead that wildling with your sword?” The Lord Commander asked him once more. 

“She was fast–,”

“–And I thought you were a skilled warrior! They told me you were ruthless and a killing machine!” Aemond felt a hard kick onto his stomach. Groaning in pain his body gave up and rested itself onto the ground. “I’ve now realized that you’re nothing but an ordinary man who just happens to have a dragon. Without it you’re not even worthy to be called a swordsman,” the Lord Commander mocked, crouching down to the one eyed prince. “You live under the watch now, boy. You may aswell leave your title for no one here has a higher rank than the other.” When he reached out to touch Aemond’s hair to get a good look of the Targaryen, he saw nothing but anger painted on his face. “If it weren’t for the Starks, I might have to repeat myself but, you have no use for us.”

“I do not know what sort of pact you made with that wildling. Whatever it is, if you dare to betray the watch we might aswell take your other eye out,” the Lord Commander warned. “I shall cut your arm before you could even do such thing,” Aemond spat at him. “You are allowed to try.” Patting Aemond’s cheek, the Lord Commander stood up looking down at him. “And they say that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Now I only see a Targaryen closer to the animals than men.” The other members of the watch laughed at the commander’s words, agreeing. 

Aemond closed his eye as he heard them starting to leave, their footsteps fading away from him. “Oh and you are now a steward, boy. Start cleaning the horses’ shit by dawn!” They all cackled, satisfied that now a Targaryen prince shall clean horse shit and cook in the kitchen. If only Aemond could burn everything down. He sighed in defeat, cradling himself as the cold air of the north has no mercy on him as well.

What could Aemond ask from the gods?

No matter how hard he pray, he knew that this was a punishment from the gods. If the gods had mercy on him, they would’ve let him die in that lake. Yet they put him in a place to feel how his enemy felt in his hands back in the war. But what he went through in the night’s watch was nothing than what his enemies had endured. He was starving for power at such young age. But what did it cost him? 

But what if his only escape was that wildling?

Will she keep her promise?

Helping him to find his way home, away from this nightmare?

Did the gods send her to play with him or to save him? 

He does not know. 

But deep down, he hoped that she was the key to his freedom.

Three moons have passed, he has spent his days more in the stable more than he spent his time in bed. At first the stench of horse shit made him puke countless times. Some of it got into his hair to the point he could not let it loose anymore. But he got used to the smell to the point he can’t smell shit no more. At Least he is better at feeding the horses than cooking in the kitchen and feeding the men. Even he loathed his own cooking. 

Stabbing a pile of hay, he tossed it into the stallion he was caring for. He saw how the horses had gotten used to his presence as well, staying still every time he got close to them. Horses aren’t as loud as birds or chickens, that was the thing that made his job easier. It’s better to stay with them than interacting with those northerners, especially when every member of the watch keeps an eye on every single move he makes.

For after what happened that night changed their perspectives on him. He could not walk freely without someone following him. Everytime he got too close to the forest for whatever reason, the watch would accuse him with any accusations and it was only a matter of time before they would throw a punch and an insult . He looked out seeing a few watch members passing by, and a brief view of the haunted forest. 

In secret, he stayed in the stable longer than he should have. Hoping for the wildling to return and take him away. But he wouldn’t even admit that to himself. It was a foolish wish for him to make. Two moons have passed and no signs of that wildling. He believes it was only a joke made by the gods so they could be entertained by his demise. 

“The gods work in mysterious ways. Yet, seek for them when you feel lost. For they are always around you.”

His mother’s influence for religion secretly affects him. He was never a devoted man to the seven, but living under the guidance of his mother affected his life. Aemond entered the small sept when the sun sets. When everyone was asleep or away to their posts. He finds himself kneeling down lighting a candle like his mother always does, he prayed. 

To The Father, to protect and guide him in the watch. 

To The Mother, to his loved ones. His family. 

To The Warrior, to give him strength in every battle he will face. 

To The Smith, to keep his sword strong and sharp

To The Crone, to ask for guidance and to lead him to the right path in life

And to The Stranger, to one day take him away when he finds peace.

Standing up, Aemond sighs still feeling unedged. 

When he looked up, he saw the symbol of the seven looking down on him. 

What is it that you want from me? 

He let out an agonising scream, not caring if anyone heard him. 

He just wanted his misery to end. 

Aemond stayed in the humble sept for awhile, trying to find his peace before he could continue his life. Dragging himself out of the sept, Aemond looked up seeing the moon shining above him. A light of hope even in the midst of darkness. 

Then he heard it. 

A horse neighed. 

It kept stomping. 

And it didn’t stop at one stomp. 

The stable was not far from the small sept so he could hear the loud stomps of the horse. Something was disturbing their peace. Aemond hurried towards the stable, expecting to find a critter bothering the horses. Yet he heard a voice. A familiar feminine voice he had not heard for a while. “Shh shh! Here’s a treat for ya! Sorry for startling ya,” he heard the voice said. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but when he took a closer look, he saw her figure with her fur coat he saw on the bridge of nightfort. 

“You,” he pointed at her. 

The Wildling turned to his direction as she fed a horse with a toothy smile.

“Snow haired! You fed these horses well!” 

What is this? 

A trick?

To mess with him again?

Aemond was angry as he stomped towards the wildling pulling out his dagger. “Careful now, we don’t want to startle the horses,” she said, pulling out her own. “What is your business here, wildling?” He snarled at her, headlocking her in place. “Ow! Hey! I have a name y’know!” Aemond took her dagger away from her grip. “You bring nothing but bad omen upon me. SPEAK!” He grits his teeth, wanting to end his misery of being played by the gods. But he couldn't, for he needed to know her reasons. 

“My offer still stands, Targaryen!” She exclaimed, before swinging her feet and locking Aemond’s ankle to flip him over, releasing herself from his grip. “I am not here to bring trouble,” she said again, lifting her arms up. “Your offer is nothing but a trick! How can you, a stupid wildling, take me back behind the wall?” He asked, standing back on his feet with his dagger still gripped tightly. “I-I admit I do not know. But I can give you the chance. Rather than you being stuck here, watched by these crows every single day! You have more chance to escape outside of the crow’s nest.” She tried to step closer yet Aemond stepped back. 

“Believe me, I loathe these crows as much as you do,” she said. 

He stared at her as she still kept her hands open, like trying to tame a wild beast. 

“And how should I know that you will not kill me?”

“I might be called a savage but I promise you, I’m- we are not that bad. Especially to things that could benefit us.”

“And how could I benefit you?”

“You have lived in the nest of the crows for three moons by now. You know more of their ways than we wildlings have for years. Yes we know their strategies, but what do you think is the reason for us not passing through them?” 

Her words made him think. 

“We are outnumbered, our weapons and resources aren’t as much or dangerous as the crows. With you, we can rely on your knowledge and we could also need a little help. Not to mention, I’m sure you’ve made several acquaintances.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. 

“It is not that easy, you fool. The crows aren’t as stupid as you think they are.”

“But we have tried everything. What is the harm of trying?” She asked, yet when she touched his arm, he tackled her down. His dagger once again close to her throat.

She was the one he prayed to come to him all for the past moon yet when she came why is he like this?

Afraid to be betrayed.

Afraid to be abandoned.

Afraid that this is only a game once again from the gods.

”Please, come with me,” she pleaded.

Her eyes enchanting him as it never leaves his healthy eye, not even a blink. Afraid to be lured and enchanted by her, he closed his eyes.

His breathing was ragged as he gripped the dagger to the point his hands started to shake. He wanted to go home. He just wanted to escape this hell. Was she his answer?

“Aemond?”

He looked up, how did she- no, it wasn’t her voice. He turned his heads towards the entrance of the stable as he still has the wildling underneath him.

“Jack,” Aemond said in horror. 

Jack saw him with the wildling. He would tell the others and he would be seen as treason- he would be beheaded- shit Jack’s running away now. “Jack, come back here!” Aemond exclaimed in frustration when Jack started to run from the stable. Thankfully Aemond was faster and tackled the young boy to the ground. “Let go! Let go of me!” Aemond shuts Jack’s mouth with his hand.

Shushing him.

“I am not your enemy,” Aemond tried to say, holding Jack in place as Jack squirmed and kicked trying to let go from Aemond’s strong grip. The wildling catched up to them, curiously looking peeking her head behind Aemond’s shoulder.

Jack lets out a muffled voice. 

“And she…is not here to harm anyone.” 

Aemond’s words made Jack give him a confused stare. 

“I knew I heard something.”

The Lord Commander. 

Aemond turned around and got back up to his feet, holding Jack in his grip as a dozen men surrounded the three of them. “Can’t believe you made an allegiance to those savages,” he chuckled. The wildling pulled out her dagger, keeping her feet steady. “Let us leave, and the boy will be spared.” Aemond threatened. The Lord Commander scoffed, “Go ahead. Kill another innocent boy, kinslayer.” 

Aemond felt his jaw clench. 

Lucerys. 

He shook his head to snap out of it. 

“Stop it,” he warned, gripping Jack’s throat. 

With one nod, the watch suddenly gripped the spearwife’s arms, making her squirm and screaming to let her go. Aemond watched as he was once again cornered by these fucking northeners. “Your one way ticket to ‘freedom’ is in our hands. What will you do, Targaryen? What is your plan now?” The Lord Commander asked, stepping closer to Aemond and tapped his forehead. “You can’t even think of an escape plan. You are a fool.”

Aemond reached out the dagger he took from the wildling. 

Swiftly letting go of Jack and stabbing The Lord Commander’s chest. 

He saw the horror that succumbs the Lord Commander’s eyes when he buries the dagger deep into his chest. He had to. He had no choice. Before the watch noticed, he quickly dragged the wilding out of the men’s grip that were frozen because of shock, running towards the stable. 

“Wait! The boy!” The wildling said, as Aemond dragged her into the stable choosing a random horse that he could trust. “What of him?” He asked, picking up his sword he left beneath a pile of hay. ��We- we can’t just leave him to the crows!” She shouted at him. “Oh so now you care for the life of a boy?”

“I always have! I may have killed a couple of crows but I know who is innocent and who is not!”

Ignoring her argument, Aemond puts a saddle onto the horse. “We must hurry.” 

Before she could even argue with him, he picked her up and placed her on the horse. “It was not my fault that this night became eventful-,”

“–Stop talking,” he sternly said as he climbed up to the horse, making it gallop away from the stable. 

“Stop them!” They heard a crow said, some flying their arrows towards them. Yet the stallion was fast, leading them away from the attacks. Ahead, they saw how the gates were starting to close and their horse was galloping as fast as it could but with the distance, they wouldn't make it. But then someone shot an arrow to the man's leg, stopping him from closing the gate any further. 

Aemond looked back, trying to find the source of the arrow. 

He was surprised to find Jack being the culprit. 

Standing not far from the gates of castle black lowering down his bow. 

He could only nod at the one eyed prince as he watched them escape from the watch. 

Hoping for the best. 

The horse kept galloping as Aemond looked back at the black fortress that he claimed was his prison. It kept shrinking from his sight, so he looked ahead, finding the opening path of the haunted forest welcoming them. For he knew he had made a choice and he could not turn back around. This was the path he has chosen and Aemond Targaryen could only pray to The Crone for guidance as he awaits for his next journey.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a bit overwhelming to write cuz I was a little bummed out when writing this. It’s not that proof read so I do apologize for any typos or bad writing lol🎀 Anyways, let’s just say we’ll have more scenes with Aemond and our wildling reader in future chapters<3 I want to take this series on a steady pace rather than a hurried series yk, I want to build the relationship between Aemond and the reader so you’re in for a ride☺️🌷

🍰current tags: @suntizme @8812-342 @ladytargg @barnes70stark @magpiewritingsforonce @thesadvampire ( if your username was bolded it means I can’t tag you and idk why😔🐦‍⬛)

[peaches2217]

It's not unusual for Peasley to host extravagant parties. He's a people person, a Bean's Bean, and a skilled politician to boot. Parties are as much an excuse to mingle and have fun as they are an opportunity to strengthen bonds with nobles and the common people alike. Admittedly, Luigi's fascinated by his methodical approach to an activity typically considered gratuitous. It's a lot like Peasley himself: at first glance garish and full of himself, but shockingly thoughtful beneath the surface.

Some months into their courtship, Peasley invites him to his latest party at the capitol. In a first, it's a themed party; all guests are encouraged to dress in the fashions of the Metro Kingdom.

"I've always found it so charming," Peasley reasons, "all the colorful suits and elegant dresses!" And Luigi can't help but agree; from what Mario has described to him, a classy evening in the heart of the Metro Kingdom looks a lot like a high school prom in Brooklyn. (Or so they would presume. They didn't go to their senior prom. Long story.)

With no shortage of encouragement from his brother, Luigi gets himself a veridian suit, spends the day prior to the event in total isolation so he's got enough energy to survive the night, and then charges in head-first.

Peasley greets him outside of the hall where the excitement is being contained, and phew, he looks good. His gold hair is tied back for once, a thin braid running through it just above where his left ear would be if he actually had ears, and he's wearing a white suit that's equal parts tacky and enchanting, his rapier fastened to his right hip as usual. Luigi feels kinda woozy just looking at him.

He clings to Peasley's arm (or at least makes his best attempt to, being nearly a full foot taller than him) as he's led into the thick of the gathering. He expects Peasley to acquaint him with a few people, make sure he's comfortable enough to hold his own, and then split for short bursts of time to tend to his own royal matters.

Except he doesn't. Not once, not the entire night.

He proudly shows Luigi off to what must be every last guest in attendance, sparing no opportunity to divulge great detail about his heroic exploits (they mostly involve ghosts, because everyone already knows about the Cackletta incident), his great works of philanthropy (helping Toads repair pipes, fix roofs, and other assorted physical tasks in his free time), his unparalleled ability to coax life from unassuming seeds, filling entire gardens with color and cheer (he has successfully grown one (1) rose in his entire life, and he only managed because Peasley walked him through every step of the process).

Just listening — heck, just watching, seeing how proud Peasley looks to have Luigi on his arm, how he lights up at every chance to talk about him, how his name passes his lips with such reverence  — you'd think Luigi was the Crown Prince and Peasley was his unassuming date.

When he's not waxing lyrical about Luigi, he's feeding him tiny squares of cake (raspberry vanilla — his favorite!) or pouring another serving of punch into a champagne glass for him (coconut cream — also his favorite! That's lucky!); if he's not doing that, then he's pulling him into the middle of the room and sweeping him into graceful waltzes, the sort Luigi can only keep up with because 1) waltzes are all-in-all simple and predictable and 2.) Peach was insistent on teaching him the ins and outs of ballroom dancing just last week. All eyes are on them, and yeah, it's pretty overwhelming, but Peasley's just so happy that it's easy to get lost in the music with him.

But Luigi can only handle so much social interaction, and as soon as he starts focusing too hard on his hands and clicking his tongue in the back of his throat over and over, Peasley whisks him away to a private balcony for some fresh air.

"So?" he asks as Luigi decompresses from all the socialization. "Have you enjoyed your evening, my dear?"

Now that he's not surrounded by so much stimuli, Luigi can honestly say that yeah, he has! In spite of being the center of attention for most of it, he's never been able to enjoy himself at a party so much as he's enjoyed himself tonight. And now that he's away from it all, now that the music and the laughter are muffled someplace behind them and they're finally alone in the gentle night breeze, he's able to appreciate that in full.

And he's also able to think a little more clearly. This whole thing seems... off. Not unpleasantly so, but there's something going on, something beyond the straightforward premise presented to him initially. Why did Mario seem so eager for him to come to this gathering, when normally he would encourage Luigi to weigh the pros and cons of attending such a stamina-draining event? Why did Peach seem so eager to teach him all of the dances that he coincidentally found himself in tonight when she's normally so respectful of his need for personal space?

And why does Peasley seem so eager to hear more affirmations, smiling that I'm-so-terribly-pleased-with-myself smile and staring him down proudly as if he's just claimed some great victory?

"...Okay," Luigi finally chances, "what are you not telling me?"

Peasley, all but vibrating with excitement, finally spills everything.

In one of his letters, Luigi spoke of an old emotional wound from the world in which he was raised: he once tried asking a boy to his senior prom. This boy was a good friend, and he knew about Luigi's sexuality, so Luigi had foolishly assumed it was a risk worth taking. Even if he rejected his advances, there would be no hard feelings. Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. The friend was mortified to learn that Luigi had a crush on him. He proceeded to subject Luigi to an onslaught of insults and beration, in the middle of a busy hallway for everyone to hear, and by the end of it Luigi had lost both a friend and what little sense of self-worth he possessed.

By the following school day, the ex-friend had two fewer teeth, Mario had been both suspended and grounded for it, and Luigi had accepted he'd probably be alone for the rest of his life. The brothers spent the night of their senior prom playing video games together.

And hearing this tale, Peasley had been crushed. To be given something so sacred as this perfect human's heart and react with such vitriol! To fill him with such sorrow that he would be denied access to a pivotal coming-of-age ritual (which is absolutely what he believes this "prom" ordeal is)!

And that's why everyone was asked to wear fashions from or styled after the Metro Kingdom tonight. In speaking with Mario behind Luigi's back, Peasley learned that this "prom" ritual was much like a party, and that the clothing worn for the occasion greatly resembled Metro fashion. With that, Peasley set out to correct that ancient heartache.

This is Prom 2.0. This entire party is for Luigi.

And hearing it, Luigi is almost embarrassed he didn't figure that out sooner. The simple but intimate dances, the earnest flattery, the snacks and drinks in his favorite flavors — this was never one of Peasley's standard parties. This was one giant, carefully crafted, probably very expensive love letter from a prince to a plumber.

"But... but that was years ago!" Luigi eventually manages to stammer. He hardly even recalls telling that story in the first place. He never imagined it would have such an impact.

"That doesn't make it alright." Peasley palms at the handle of his rapier, dark eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. "My goal is to one day seek out the portal between our worlds so that I may deliver swift, karmic justice to he who so terribly wronged you! But until that day comes... I do hope this makes up for it."

Luigi realizes, not for the first time overall but for the first time with mind-numbing certainty, that he wants to marry this man.

Neither of them return to the party. They remain together beneath the moon, laughing and sighing and sharing dizzy words of love. Hey, it’s Luigi’s party, and he can play hooky if he wants to.

[lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom]

The Mario Movie Is Not Canon To The Games P1

Okay so it's become a common occurrence amongst a bit too many people who think the MarioMovieverse is canon to the MarioTalesverse. So I am here to tell you why this is wrong and point out all the contradictions between the Movie and Games. So Let's begin.

So to start off with this movie appears to be an origin story for the Bros., and the cast as a whole. This doesn't work for various reasons. First off the Bros. are in their modern attire instead of their Classic Outfits. The Classic Outfits as has been established to be what Mario and Luigi wore up until Super Mario Bros. 3 when they switched to their Modern Outfits.

Mario and Luigi also grew up in Brooklyn and are Italian Americans while the Mushroom Kingdom is on a separate planet in the movie. While the games through Yoshi's Island, Donkey Kong 94, Donkey Kong Land, and Super Mario Odyssey, it's established are from the Mushroom Kingdom and migrated to Big City. The Bros. living on the same planet as the Mushroom Kingdom was already and idea in the OVA before it was added to the games. While the original idea was for them to be from real world New York, and that they were Italian Americans. This was never stated in game or in manuals unlike the Koopaling retcon and Yoshi retcon. As of now they are native sons of the Mushroom Kingdom.

The events of Mario Bros./Did Somebody Call A Plumber never play out where the Bros. fight the Koopa Troopas, Fighter Flies, and Sidesteppers in the sewers eventually finding their way to the Mushroom Kingdom.

The events of Donkey Kong also don't play out in the movies either. Mario owned Donkey Kong Senior aka Cranky Kong as a pet in the games. While Cranky Kong kidnapped Pauline as a way to get a rise out of Mario. Cranky in the Movie is an adult and Leader of the Jungle Kingdom. Also, Cranky doesn't even know who Mario is.

Speaking of the Jungle Kingdom, it does not exist in the game universe. There is also no Kong Civilization in games, and what is ancient ruins in the games is in use structures. The Kongs in game are from the Kong Archipelago which is near the Metro Kingdom.

More stuff all the Kongs in the movie speak English, while in the games they speak Kongish.

Donkey Kong Junior the son of Cranky Kong and father of Donkey Kong III is not in the movies. Instead Donkey Kong III was made into Cranky's Son in the movies instead further establishing the difference between the 2 continuities. DK III also is implied to have met Mario in Mario Vs Donkey Kong.

Next up is Princess Peach, first off she wears a modern dress instead of her classic dress. But also, Peach's origin story is a creation of the movie and exclusive to the movie as established in a Nintendo Dream article in "I think it was probably something that was originally reflected, and we just had to decide how to explain it, and it was a clear cut feeling. This movie really clarified the setting (laughs). It was Matthew's invention." While in the games Peach is delivered to the Mushroom Kingdom via stork, and was raised by Toadsworth. Peach also wore princess attire when she was a Baby unlike her movie appearance. Peach would have interacted with the Baby Bros. which does not happen in the movie. This leads into the fact while the citizens if the Mushroom World in the Mario universe know what humans are. It's treated as a rare sight, the humans of Earth don't seem to know about the Mushroom Kingdom, and the Bros.' parents never mention it. Peach as a Princess and ruler who would have to interact with other leaders would have to know at least one other leader, aka Princess Daisy. Also, Peach uses her dress to float in the movie while in the games she uses magic.

Moving on the events of the Super Mario Bros. don't play out in the movie. Bowser doesn't invade the Mushroom Kingdom before the Bros. show up. Bowser doesn't capture the Princess from the start or turn the Toads to Bricks and Stone. Goombas don't betray the Mushroom Kingdom but are already part of Bowser's army in this movie, unlike in the games. And Luigi is not kidnapped in the SMB unlike in the movie.

Unlike the original game where Bowser is simply focused on conquest, the games have him already in love with Peach. Bowser also doesn't know who Mario is in the movie, while by Yoshi Story he knew who Mario was and hated Yoshis. Bowser is not captured at the end of SMB unlike in the movie where he is shrunken by a Mini Mushroom and taken captive. Also, in the movie Bowser had the intent to kill and was planning on sacrificing his captives. But in the games Bowser rarely actually tries to kill anyone and any implications he intends to is seen out of character. Bowser while is willing to torch others out of frustration, he doesn't necessarily attack his underlings unless the really annoy him like with Iggy or Kammy. We don't slam a piano lid on Kamek or set a Koopa Troopa on fire for a minor inconvenience. Bowser was also tone deaf in the games until it was fixed by the music keys. Before DDR he has note been shown to have the ability to sing like does in the movies because of this. Also, Bowser doesn't know what Spinys even though Spinys are turtles and part of the Turtle Tribe since the first game.

Part 2

[vaguelyoriginaldrivel]

RANDOM TOWN GENERATOR

My longest-running campaign ended this year. Granted, that’s not saying much - only ran 9 sessions, started last fall, but still as of yet the only real “campaign” I’ve ever ran. Was some sort of “urban fantasy” thing, players a bunch of wizards (and one giant shrimp-man) driving around some undefined region of the USA in an again undefined recent past… though near the end I think I’d decided on it being set in Pennsylvania? Definitely a learning experience in a lot of ways for me, regardless. Anyways here’s some tables I made for it

Town name (d10):

Washington

Franklin

Chester

Dover

- 10. [random - roll prefix, suffix]

Prefix (d12):

Spring

Hill

Glen

George

Kings

Green

Arling

Clay

Ash

Gold

Mill

Fair

Suffix (d6):

field

lake

hill

view

ton

-Town

Notable Feature (3d10): 1-3. Can’t be rolled on a 3d10

Ignore everything else - this isn’t an ordinary small town, it’s a neo-nazi cult compound. They have guns and they don’t like you

Historic building - Weird modern house - all pods, steel, fiberglass, and concrete, with spherical pods covered in pods. Abandoned.

Ruins - Abandoned Shopping Mal

Speed trap town - local cops lurk on the side of the highway, entire town economy based on speeding tickets. Basically operates on piracy. Absurdly low speed limits not properly demarcated

Weird art installation - field of sculptures (d4 - abstract metal, cobbled-together trash, stone statues of animals and people, monoliths with inscriptions)

Historic building - haunted mansion, old style - wood, maybe some stone

Notable dam overlooking the town, potentially vulnerable to failure

Ruins - Abandoned Factory

College town - small local college dominates the local economy, most residents are students or staff

Tourist trap - Historic house (d4- Rotting wooden mansion with a ghost story, old colonial stone fort, weird modern house of a dead eccentric rich guy/ weird cult leader )

Large immigrant population from a distant country (ie not part of the Americas- like Kazakhstan or Swahililand or Lichtenstein, not like, Colombia)

Oddly high concentration of a hyper-specific specialized type of business - an entire district of dentists or dog groomers or something

Not a full on cult compound, but much of the town’s population do follow a specific esoteric cults religion like scientology or sedevacantist mormonism or something

Birthplace of some celebrity, statue in town square proclaims as much

Tourist trap -Giant sculpture, gift shop (d4 - historic figure, giant animal, mascot of attached restaurant, dinosaur(young-earth creationist))

Historic building - old colonial fort, earthworks and stone and wood

Geography - Subterranean water (1d4 - Hot spring, bottomless pit in a lake, water-filled mine pit)

Geography- Big rock (d4 - Balancing rock, weird outcroppings (like fang ridge nevada), meteor (in far-off museum, there’s a plaque next to the crater though), butte)

Geography - Weird Cliff (1d6: columnar jointing, waterfall, petroglyphs, looks like a face, church built into it, odd color)

Retirement community, no children whatsoever and everyone is either a senior citizen or a caretaker

Odd museum - animal (1d6- snails, songbirds, butterflies, earthworms, leeches, mice)

Odd museum - human (1d6- finger, ear, spleen, tongue, nose, lip, nail)

Odd museum - local cryptid (1d6 - sasquatch, lake monster, grey alien, weird alien (ie flatwoods), hodag, giant toad, devil)

Religious - large megachurch, drawing in the faithful from across the state

Weird art installation - small grove with (d4 - dollheads hanging from the trees, extensive etchings onto the bark, geometric statues in between the trees, the trees coated in colorful yarn)

Ignore everything else - this isn’t an ordinary small town, it’s some kind of hippy commune or cult compound or something. Either pseudochristian or pseudodharmic, flip a coin

Special - roll on Supernatural table

(intentionally weighted to be biased more towards the middle but I didn’t really check the probabilities here, might be way too hard to get the ones at the further poles)

Extra: Supernatural element. (d4)

Entire town was replaced with body-snatchers a few years ago. They’ll try to keep you in town for a few days - constantly surveilling you, in order to grow a body-double - when they’re done they’ll try and kidnap you to replace you with it the next time you wander away from the group. Body snatcher type varies - (Fae-esque boogeymen cuckoo-bird shapeshifters, pseudo-plant pod people, 1979 Alien style androids, etc)

Recent sightings of some kind of cryptid or something has drawn droves of “cryptozoologists” to town. This is a problem because some of you are cryptids. Coinflip if the cryptid in question is real or not

Entire town stuck in groundhog day loop - the US military has caught on and is using the town as a testing-bed/training site. Just like groundhog day, there’s one guy somewhere in town originating the loop - kill him or put him to sleep and it resets - make him learn the error of his ways - or keep him awake til midnight - and the effect ends permanently. The feds know about this, first thing they do every loop is send their special ops guys to bag him and hide him in a van before they start the raid in earnest. Outsiders, like you and the special ops guys, can enter the loop - no matter what happens, when the loop resets you’re plopped back outside right where you entered in exactly the state you were then except for your memories - even if you died you’re revived.

Certain nights, at the witching hour (12-1), local monsters and spirits and such emerge and walk the streets openly - certain stalls and shops pop up in areas that are normally unused, catering to this strange clientele, and others who sell mundane wares during the day reveal their magical affiliations at night. Also there’s street performances, music and dances and parades - and games, dangerous ones - ones you can join. The rest slumber on, but the magic that keeps them asleep does not apply to you. As magicians and cryptids yourself, this could be a good opportunity, but not all the spirits who’ve emerged are peaceful.

this is what the map of the actual campaign ended up looking like at the end btw

[perciverfeels]

A little Percy Weasley-centric, DH-era snippet from a future chapter of my Perciver fic. Stand-alone. You don't have to read my fic to understand, but I would love it if you did!

Hey friends, as I said earlier, I wanted to publish a Percy scene that takes place during DH, which is WAY ahead in the future compared to what's currently happening in my story. I hope you enjoy it!

If you haven't read my fic, you don't necessarily have to in order for this to make sense. It's pretty self-explanatory and stand-alone. For those of you who do read my fic, after I write the chapters that lead up to this one, a few bits of this snippet might change. If you'd rather not be spoiled, you can ignore this. But I'd love for you to read it if you're interested! The full snippet continues under the cut.

(Oh and just a quick note, the character of Galin Fence was introduced in my most recent chapter as Fudge's nephew, in case you were wondering who that is.)

________________

Percy straightened his posture as Dolores Umbridge stepped off the lift, a broad, jubilant grin spread across her toad-like face. She clutched a large roll of parchment so tightly in her hands, perhaps thinking it would blow away if she dropped it. Umbridge approached Percy’s desk in the center of the room, and gave him a triumphant look.

“Mr. Weasley, I have just received the first batch of names,” she said, excitement evident in her sickly sweet voice. With a dreadful tightness in his chest, he knew immediately what she was referring to. “We want to start knocking on doors with registry papers and court dates this afternoon. I will leave it to you to make a dozen, secure copies of this list for Magical Law Enforcement, as they will be taking the lead on rounding everyone up. Make the lists unreadable to anyone outside of Yaxley’s staff, as well as ours. Do not send them as interdepartmental memos. You will hand deliver the lists to Yaxley.”

“Yes, of course, Senior Undersecretary. Right away.” Percy couldn’t decide which was worse— having an interaction with Yaxley, or being forced to walk past his father’s office to do so.

Umbridge set the roll of parchment down on Percy’s desk, and then added: “I expect you will not have any misgivings about this list?”

“Of course not, ma’am. You have my word.”

“Good. I will be supervising the setup in the courtrooms for the rest of the morning, in case the Minister needs me.”

It seemed odd that Umbridge would need to “set up” anything in the courtrooms. Weren’t they merely going to question people? That was par for the course in the courtrooms. But a morning without Umbridge in her office was preferable, especially now that she had Mad-Eye Moody’s eye fastened to her door and was presumably watching Percy and his coworkers through it. It was grotesque and invasive.

As Percy unrolled the list, he wondered gloomily if giving him this job was Umbridge’s way of exerting power over him. Of telling him he’d never rise in the ranks of this Ministry, not with a blood-traitor family like his. Of making Percy see the names of Muggle-borns who were under investigation, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. That he had to obey without question or risk being tracked like his father almost certainly was.

Once completely unrolled, the list was longer than Percy was tall. He would have to be sure to cut the parchment for each copy precisely, which would take a few minutes at most. But the unreadable charms were going to be tedious. Percy was going to have to go line-by line down twelve, seven-foot-long rolls of parchment, focusing hard on the incantations.

Percy sighed and stood up. No doubt he would need special parchment and ink for this job. And just his luck— there was a ban on conjuring charms for anyone but high-level Ministry officials. The supply room was down on Level 8, past the Atrium. So with his usual feigned air of importance, Percy crossed the room and pressed the button on the wall to summon the lift. Thankfully nobody was inside when he got on— perhaps this meant his trip would be quick.

But the door opened immediately on Level 2, and two navy-robed Magical Maintenance workers stepped inside, one very tall with a curly, black beard, and the other much shorter and balding— short enough that the taller man had to lean down a bit to speak to him. Deep in conversation, they didn’t seem to notice Percy.

“Did you hear the rumor about what they’re bringing down to the courtrooms?” the taller man asked. 

“Aye, I didn’t just hear about it, I saw them with my own eyes when I was down there fixing that faulty air vent,” said his coworker nervously.

“Did you? You really saw dementors?”

“Hard to mistake ‘em, isn’t it? Yaxley was bringin’ ‘em in— a dozen I reckon.” The man’s voice shook a little as he spoke.

“A dozen?” the taller man said incredulously. “Isn’t one enough to do the job of scaring people?”

“I heard Yaxley bragging that they’re sendin’ ‘em to Azkaban if they can’t prove they have wizarding blood. An’ if they resist, they get the uhh… the kiss,” the shorter man lowered his voice for that final word.

His coworker gasped. “Blimey, you don’t think they’ll start going after Ministry families, do you?”

“Dunno. But if I were a Muggle-born working in this bloody place, I’d pack up my desk yesterday. Hell, if I were a Muggle-born anywhere in this country, I’d be in the wind faster ’n you can say ‘Accio’. No way I’m goin’ anywhere with a dementor.”

The lift stopped at Level 7, and the two men got out. As it dropped one more level and the door opened on Level 8, where Percy needed to get off, he stood frozen in horror at the threshold. Percy’s whole chest and throat turned to pure ice. He could’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He couldn’t move. People in the Atrium stared at him curiously as he stood rooted to the spot inside the lift. That revolting new statue directly faced him, as if it were mocking him for being so subordinate. Subordinate like the Muggles that made up the throne were supposed to be, according to the Ministry’s new stance.

The door closed after a few seconds, leaving Percy alone inside the lift with his racing thoughts. What he had just heard could have been Yaxley having a laugh and exaggerating or making things up to sound important. But Percy didn’t think so. He couldn’t afford not to believe it was true. Because if he turned a blind eye to what the Ministry was doing, as he’d done for so long up until now, he’d be ignoring the impending imprisonment or deaths of everyone on that list sitting on his desk upstairs.

Percy unfroze. Without another thought, he slammed his palm against the button for Level 1 and prayed no one would delay the lift. Once back in the Minister and Support Staff office, Percy bolted out of the lift and took long, swift strides toward his desk, his heart pumping anxiety and dread through his veins. Thankfully his coworkers were used to Percy bustling about quickly, and didn’t give him a second glance.

Standing at his desk, Percy finally looked at the Muggle-born registry list. He estimated about two-hundred Muggle-born witches and wizards were listed. And what had Umbridge said? That this was only the first batch of names?

The names were in alphabetical order. With his throat closing tighter and tighter as his eyes scanned down to the letter “C”, he hoped against all hope that he wouldn’t see her name. Please, no. Please PLEASE, don’t be—

Percy’s speeding heart stopped dead in his chest.

—Clearwater, Penelope - age: 20; occupation: unknown; family: Muggle mother, Muggle father. No known wizarding family members; crime: impersonating a witch, wand stolen from a witch or wizard.—

The list crinkled as Percy’s hands shook violently. Penny’s address was also listed under her name. The Ministry had everything they needed to find her, bring her in, and ship her off to Azkaban or worse.

Percy sat down, his wobbly legs unwilling to hold his weight any longer. Something hammered at the back of his brain— an instinctual urge to do something. Anything. The feeling grew and grew as he stared wide-eyed at the list. Penny was on this list. Penny, one of his closest friends and confidants. The person with whom he shared his first kiss. The person who still believed in him no matter how deep he fell. Penny, who was studying Muggle law so she could improve the very court she was about to be convicted in.

He drew a long, shaky breath. Galin shot Percy a worried glance from his cubicle, which he met for a brief moment before looking back down at the list. As much as he appreciated Galin’s continued camaraderie through everything, the man still reminded Percy of Fudge— of when Percy let the Ministry take over his mind and heart. Percy had always been a good little Ministry servant. He’d agonizingly renounced his family, abandoned his friends, and done everything that was asked of him. He’d been personal assistant to three different Ministers, continuing to keep his nose down while hoping, someday, he’d be recognized as useful, and being consistently let down. He’d stomped out all misgivings, ignored his own common sense, and obeyed. He was no better than an Inferius, numb and mindless and cold.

You can’t obey -this-, said the pounding voice in the back of his mind. It was getting progressively louder. They gave you this list because they think you’ll obey. They think you’ve become the exact kind of Ministry pawn who will go along willingly. They think your spirit is broken and they’re holding the pieces over your head. If you don’t cross the line now, you’ll stay here forever. Penny will die and the blood will be on your hands. You used to be strong. You used to have faith in your abilities. You used to believe in your own convictions, even when the Ministry let you down.

They underestimate you. You’re still that person.

Percy clenched his fists and his jaw. He picked up his wand, now completely steady in his hand. His mind was steady too— he was sure of himself. Sure of what he was going to do. The Ministry of Magic would regret underestimating him. They would regret assuming he had no Weasley blood left in his veins and in his heart.

Carefully, Percy touched the tip of his wand to “Clearwater, Penelope”, and pulled the ink up and away from the parchment. He continued to drag his wand across the paper until everything under her name was completely erased. Quickly, he glanced around the room to make sure no one was watching him— they weren’t. To anyone else, he was carefully going over the list to make Umbridge’s unreadable copies. To anyone else, he was a pawn.

As soon as he crossed that line, Percy couldn’t stop. He erased a dozen other names. Elderly witches and wizards who wouldn’t survive Azkaban. People who supported large families like his own, who might not have the means or ability to flee and hide. His heart pounded, this time pumping determined warmth through his body instead of cold anxiety. Once he was done, Percy surveyed the newly blank spaces on the parchment. When he made the copies, including one for Umbridge, he would need to shift up the blank spaces and shave off the few inches at the bottom to make it look like nothing was amiss. But this was all he could do for now. If any more names were taken off— if the parchment was noticeably shorter— he risked being discovered.

The plan wasn’t foolproof. Umbridge could have made another list just for herself, or she could have looked at this one before handing it to him. Penny was still in danger, whether it was today, in a week, or in a month. The Clearwater family needed to hide now. A letter would be too slow, and all mail going in and out of the Ministry was checked, all owls tracked in case someone was trying to contact the Order or Harry Potter.

Percy rolled his wand between his fingers, thinking hard. One of his coworkers— a tall witch with long, silver hair, glided past him on her way to the lift. As he watched her, it came to him. In the month or so after You-Know-Who’s return— before Percy cut ties with his family, before they considered Percy a threat— his father and Bill had a conversation about a secret method the Order used to communicate. Supposedly they could use a Patronus to send urgent messages. A Patronus couldn’t be tracked, couldn’t be intercepted, and couldn’t be captured and interrogated.

But I’ve never produced a corporeal Patronus before, Percy’s rational brain reminded himself, his heart sinking. He’d never found the correct happy memory to conjure more than a half-baked wisp of silver vapor. How could he produce one now, of all times? Had the Ministry blocked low-level workers from the Patronus Charm, just like they’d done supply conjuring charms?

It’s worth a shot to try. You’ve already stepped this far past the line, said the more powerful voice that had been gaining momentum for the last fifteen minutes. The voice, who Percy knew was his own bravery breaking through, was right.

He stood up, slipped the list into his desk drawer, then crossed the room toward the Level 1 men’s bathroom. Percy stopped in front of Galin’s desk along the way. “Galin,” he whispered. The other man blinked up at him through sleepy but curious eyes. “I need you to keep people away from the men’s bathroom.”

Galin tilted his head. “Why?”

“Just do it, please. Tell them anything. Tell them a toilet clogged and there’s muck all over the floor.”

His coworker wrinkled his nose and gave him a sour look. “Are you about to go in there and clog a toilet?”

Percy tapped his foot impatiently. “Please, just give me your word.”

“Yeah, yeah. But you owe me one, Weatherby.”

Percy’s lips twitched at the nickname. This was how he knew Galin Fence was on his side. That he hadn’t been Imperiused. After thanking Galin with a nod, Percy made his way to the bathroom and used a spell to lock the door behind him, as well as a silencing charm for good measure.

As he pulled out his wand, Percy realized his hand was shaking again. Was he losing momentum? Were his nerves returning? Suddenly faced with the seemingly impossible task of producing a Patronus, Percy found it difficult to even whisper the incantation, let alone say it clear enough for the spell to work. Think of something good, something really, really good.

But, as he’d suspected all along, nothing came to mind. It was as though the Ministry had eaten up all the color in his life, leaving nothing but grayscale. Penny was going to be arrested if he didn’t do this now. Penny’s parents were going to be interrogated or killed for being Muggles who knew about the magical world. Umbridge was going to find out what he’d done. He might lose his job and be unable to do any more good. He’d be labeled a blood-traitor like the rest of his family, and he’d be tracked at work, at home, everywhere. And if he went crawling back to the Burrow now, he would be far from welcomed home with open arms. Not after seemingly going along with the Ministry for so long. Not after he willingly missed Bill’s wedding…

Hot tears streaked down Percy’s cheeks, meeting at his chin and dripping onto his hand— still gripping his wand and shaking violently. His throat was closing up again. Using his wand-free hand, Percy felt around in the pocket of his robes for something to wipe his eyes with. His fingers brushed a piece of paper, and his heart leapt into his throat.

It was the letter from Oliver— the last one he’d received before cutting off his mail delivery. Percy swallowed, then pulled it out. Why had he put this letter inside his work robes? He couldn’t remember. It must have been inside his pocket through many cleanings, as the parchment was softer and more wrinkled than when he received it. But the ink was still inexplicably legible.

Hey Perce,

Still haven’t heard from you. Still don’t know if you’re in that apartment anymore. Still don’t know if you’re working at the Ministry. They won’t let me visit you, since I don’t have clearance for Level 1. I thought about waiting in the Atrium to see you, but if you’re not answering my letters, I reckon you don’t want to see me. But I’m not giving up on writing.

If you ever see this… just listen to me. You don’t even have to write back. I’m not asking you to. I just want you to know that you have someone thinking about you. I’m still here.

As per usual, I’ll end on a positive note— I love you, Percy.

Oliver

The signature animated Snitch on the bottom of the letter still moved, miraculously still swirling and fluttering back and forth across the parchment. With a jolt of hope in his heart, he realized that meant the letter-writer was still alive. When had Percy stopped checking?

—I’m still here.—

 Oliver was still alive. Of course he would be. He was pureblood. And he was strong, resilient, and resourceful. Warmth returned to Percy’s chest.

—I love you, Percy.—

Oliver loved him. Percy didn’t dare doubt this anymore. Oliver, who sang romantic lyrics to him while pretending his broom was a guitar. Oliver, who complimented his smile and handed him cassette tapes with silly names that reminded him of Percy. Oliver, who promised he would wait for Percy. Oliver, who kissed him on the cheek at King’s Cross.

With a swoop of excitement in his stomach, with the letter in one hand and his wand in the other, Percy called out the incantation with newfound conviction: “Expecto Patronum!” His voice echoed against the tiled walls of the bathroom.

A moment later, his wand began vibrating as silver light came pouring out. Startled, Percy backed up against the wall between two sinks, but he didn’t dare lower his wand. The silver vapor hovered, swirling in the air for a few seconds, then, unbelievably, it took a form.

Percy blinked at the animal. It blinked back. While his heart was fit to burst, while he knew he didn’t have much time with it, Percy studied the Patronus. The silver animal appeared to be a sheep— or rather, a ram— with large, curled horns and round, expectant eyes. Surprise and elation filled Percy’s chest. He’d done it. He’d produced a real, corporeal Patronus.

The ram blinked again and tilted its head. This might have been a reminder that Percy wasn’t finished. That it needed to be given an assignment. He had absolutely no idea how to perform the next bit of magic in order to send a message to Penny. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that. The first method that came to mind would have to be what he tried.

Picturing Penny in his mind’s eye, he pointed his wand at the silver ram and flicked his wrist. The next moment, he heard a small “crack!”, similar to the sound of Apparition, but much quieter. The ram disappeared.

He couldn’t physically see where it had gone— but in his heart he knew the ram had reached its destination. Almost instinctually, Percy pulled the end of his wand up to his mouth, and spoke as steadily as he could manage:

“Penny, if you can hear me, you need to hide. The Ministry is after Muggle-borns and you’re on the list. They’re sending people to Azkaban. Leave the country with your parents as soon as you can. Go somewhere far away from Britain. Don’t send owls to anyone. Just go, Penny. Please.”

With another flick of his wand, the Patronus returned. It nodded once at Percy in a silent confirmation that the message had been successfully received, then vanished into a mist of silver vapor. Brief disappointment tugged at Percy’s chest— he’d wanted more time with the silver ram. Perhaps to touch it, somehow. Or ask it why it took that form. But at least the job was done, and that was all he could hope for.

The mental stress of producing a Patronus and sending the message to Penny caused Percy’s knees to give out. He sank to the floor, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and exhaled shakily. Oliver’s letter had fallen to the tile floor beside him, so he quickly snatched it up and replaced it in the pocket of his robes. He didn’t dare lose it— Percy couldn’t believe how powerful the words in that letter had been. How quickly they were able to help him conjure happy memories.

Percy swallowed a lump in his throat. What was he supposed to do now? Should he cry? Laugh? Splash his face with water? After a few minutes, he chose to stand up, brush off his robes, unlock the door, and step back into the world of the Ministry. Galin tried to ask him what was going on, but Percy waved him off exhaustedly.

For the rest of the morning, Percy busied himself making unreadable copies of his edited list, making extra sure Umbridge’s copy looked indistinguishable from the original, which he surreptitiously burned under his desk. As he gathered up the copies and made his way to Level 5, a newfound determination lit his spirit. The silver ram stared at him in his mind’s eye, reminding Percy that he’d crossed the line. He was working against the Ministry now, and he was okay with that. More than okay, actually.

The rest of his family were in the trenches, actively fighting You-Know-Who and his followers— actively fighting the Ministry that had been tainted beyond all recognition. Percy used to feel dreadful for not going back to them. For not helping them. For leaving them in the first place. But today… today, Percy felt like fully embracing how different he was. How his path had led him here. How only Percy had the means and ability to gain access to the Muggle-born lists. To try to warn people if he knew them. To work for but against the Ministry in equal measure.

Percy was the black sheep of the Weasley family. But not lost. Not anymore.

[whitehathexerswriting]

White Hat Hexers Part 1: Battle at the Ball

Written by: @nighttimedaydreams and edited by: Anastasia M. ( @fighterpilotdragon02 / https://www.instagram.com/fighterpilotdragon/ ) tw: transphobia, homophobia, deadnaming

    Elizabeth woke to knocking on her door. She sighed and pushed some raven strands, which had fallen out of her braid and into her eyes, behind her ears. It was midnight, but she was the village’s cursebreaker. Technically, she was a hexer, but she had only ever cursed one person: herself. As mismatched as her skillset and job title were, however, she had the knowledge she needed to keep the village safe. She slipped on a flowy black dress streaked with white – the uniform of a cursebreaker woman. She twirled in it; even after all this time, she loved how it flared. It was no longer at all new to her, but she kept her dress so that it looked fresh to anyone else.  She slipped into and laced up her boots very tight.  They were slightly too big for her; they were a gift from long ago, but shoes weren’t easy to replace in the village, and she didn’t want to go far for something she only wore when going out.  She much preferred walking barefoot, but now wasn’t the time for frivolity.  Someone was knocking at midnight.  She stood up and stuck her hands in her dress’s pockets; other cursebreakers kept their supplies there, but she didn’t have to use them for that, although she did keep the willow bark there. She opened up the door, and standing there was Edward, the younger of Jacob’s two sons.  Jacob was the village leader and a retired knight. Edward was dressed hastily, with loose sleeping clothes, his hair clearly windswept by his speed, but he still wore a ring with the emblem of his house: a spider riding a boar. His heavy breathing filled the night, overcoming the sound of owls and other nocturnal creatures that lived near the forest behind Elizabeth’s house.

    “Elizabeth, come quick,” he panted, turning as if to head back into the village.

    “What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked.

    “It’s my brother. He was out hunting in the woods, and now he’s slowly turning into a toad.”

    “A toad? You are certain it is a toad and not a frog.”

    “NO! Of course I’m not certain about that, you’re the cursebreaker.”

    “I need to know which curse I’m breaking. I suppose I’ll learn soon enough when I see him. I presume he is at your home?”

    “Yes. He just got back from his trip.” “This late?”

    “He was held up by being cursed.”

    “Right, right.”

    Elizabeth knew Edward’s brother, of course. Henry came to her once of his own accord when he was thirteen. She was barely his senior at sixteen back then, but she knew he was under no curse – he simply liked other men. They had maintained touch ever since. She knew the other women in the village swooned over his grey eyes and wavy hair, but she didn’t see it as anything stand-out.

    They reached the house. Jacob was waiting outside.

    “Edward, I thought I said everything was fine, why did you go get that,” Jacob said.

    Elizabeth gripped the inside of her dress pockets tightly. Now wasn’t the time to cause a scene. “Father, with all due respect, my brother clearly has a curse on him. You must know time is of the essence.” “It’s simply a fever. It will pass. Edward, send it away.”

    “Father, you know that is a lie.”

    Elizabeth knew better than either of them how important time was.  She barged into the house.  Let the family squabble outside.  Jacob raised a hand to stop her, but Edward swatted it down.  She saw out of the corner of her eye that Jacob followed her.

    Today was not like the day her and Henry first met. The moment she laid eyes on him, she could tell he had a curse placed on him; she felt its magic pulsing. Soft, weak, barely there – a simple curse. Good and non-infectious, although she herself didn’t worry too much about that. 

    There were a handful of servants milling out about the room nervously moving around Henry.

    “Everyone out,” Elizabeth said. 

    The servants left; Jacob stayed.

    “You too, sir.” 

    He glared at her, but chose to do nothing more, slamming the door to Henry’s room as he left.  She let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

    “Henry, can you hear me?”

    He nodded.

    Good, good, he’s not gone mentally yet, Elizabeth thought to herself, gathering the willow bark into her hands. “Chew this,” she said, putting it in his mouth.

    Henry did as ordered.

    This next part is always the worst for the patient, Elizabeth thought to herself. She began chanting. Simple sounds – it didn’t actually matter the sounds she made, per se. All that mattered is she drew magic tight around her. All the strings of magic became visible to her.  The level of reality beneath the surface looked like linen threads on a loom, though to the untrained eye it only looked like lines.  To Elizabeth, each string connected to each other, like the way sinew connects to bone: every part interconnected, yet distinct.  Elizabeth remember reading in her studies that there were those who claimed to be able to see the future from the strings.  Hexers always were boastful and cursebreakers tried to avoid dealing with the threads unnecessarily, so Elizabeth never believed in such things, and dismissed the distracting thought.  She could clearly see the strings that made up Henry. Every piece of his thoughts and memories, every piece of his body all connected: all things became only magic to her. 

    There! she thought to herself as she spotted the string of the curse. The aberrant thread formed a breach in the pattern, its jagged lines a clean break from the smooth consistent threads that made up Henry.  Where the other lines looked like linen and connected like sinew, this one seemed woolen and looked like it was connected by a shoddy sewing job.  Even the curse she had placed upon herself was better weaved into her. She grabbed it and wound it around her hand, absorbing it into her and using it to add to the reserves of magic that made up her own curse, reinforce it, make it unbreakable. Elizabeth knew she no longer needed to worry about her magic ever running out on her, but it never hurt to be sure. 

    “Heat from fire, fire from heat,” she said, ending her chant. She watched Henry rapidly and painfully return to his original form. He screamed.

    Jacob barged in.

    “Peter! What did you do?”

    “My name is Elizabeth. And I saved your son’s life,” Elizabeth said, turning on her heels. She stormed out from Jacob’s house.

    Bastard. I save his son’s life, and that’s what he says to me? Elizabeth seethed. A fleeting memory appeared in her head in her hexer teacher’s voice, the first rule she heard when she learned magic: Those with power do whatever they please. 

    It would be simple for her to turn him into a toad.  That would neatly take care of the problem.

    No, no, I’m not like that; the first duty of a cursebreaker is to do no harm, Elizabeth reminded herself.

    She began to chant to herself. “Heat from fire, fire from heat, heat from fire, fire from heat…” Soothing words; there’s a reason she ends cursebreaking with them. Her feet moved in time with her speech. She heard other footsteps. She kept walking. Henry appeared in front of her.

    “Hey, Re,” she said tersely to him.

    “Elizabeth, I’m sorry for my father’s behavior.”

    “I’m sure you are,” She took a breath and looked at Henry. He had come out here so quickly after she left; she clenched her fists in her pockets a couple of times. “You really shouldn’t be moving around so much right now.  I apologize for my tone earlier; I was being rude to you. You’re not your dad.”

    “He has given you offense, and the hour is late. You have offended me none.”

    “Drop the formalities, Re.”

    “Oh thank magic. You know I hate talking like that, Liz.”

    Elizabeth laughed, “You really do.”

    “Well, while I have you here, there’s a ball coming up soon in the Lord’s manor.”

    Elizabeth had gotten a letter about that; as a cursebreaker she was invited as a matter of etiquette, not of desire.

    “You know I don’t do parties, Re.”

    “Please make an exception, just this once.”

    “Why? Are you asking me to attend with you?”

    “Magic forefend! No! Not like that at least, but there is a man I want you to meet.”

    “Ah, so you’re setting me up. You know I have no interest in marriage either.” She doesn’t say the quiet part, that she could care about marriage if it was between her and someone like her. Those people don’t exist. Even other cursebreakers considered her an outsider.

    Henry laughed. “No, no,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I know you’re a spinster through and through. No, I want you to meet the man I’ve been seeing.”

    Oh. Oh! Elizabeth thought to herself. “Oh that’s amazing, Re!  … Does Jacob know?”

    “No.”

    “My lips are sealed. Cursebreaker-patient confidentiality.”

    “You invoke that right a lot.”

    “This village has a lot of secrets. I keep them.”

    Henry nods solemnly. “So, will you come?”

    “I suppose I can fit time in my busy schedule.”

    “You work on a summons basis!”

    “Speaking of which, you will need to contact the Curse Corps; they deal with the hexers after all.”

    “Right, right. I was with him tonight, you know.”

    “The hexer?!” Elizabeth grinned.

    “Magic, no!” Henry laughed out loud, “Me and Thomas, the man I’m courting, but we were seen and… you don’t think he was cursed too, was he?!”

    “He may be. Where does he live?”

    “About a half day’s ride north.”

    “Mina watches over that region. She’s a good cursebreaker. He’s probably fine. It was a simple curse.”

    Henry calmed down at that. “Good, good.”

    Elizabeth yawned and stretched, the interrupted sleep finally getting to her. “Well, as you said, it’s late.” As much as she liked talking to Henry, she knew the two of them rarely let a conversation end, and she was still tired. “I already have an invite to the party, so I’ll be there and meet with Thomas. But right now, I’m going to meet my bed.”

    Henry laughed, “It is late, I’ll give you that. I’ll see you there.”

    He turned and left. Elizabeth walked into her house, changed out of her uniform and into a simple nightgown, and fell onto her bed and to sleep.

***

    The party was upon them. Elizabeth was wearing her uniform; it was the fanciest outfit she had. She really should start charging more for her service, but she knew not everyone could pay. Maybe she should seek a proper patronage, perhaps once Henry took over his house. She shrugged at her thoughts. She watched couples dancing while she sat alone eating cake at her candlelit table.  Her eyes wandered to the flame of the candle; she did always like the sound the flickering flames made.  It was different from the crackling of wood, a sound unto itself.  The only other thing that compared was the sound grass made blowing in the wind.  Although, no one ever seemed to talk about the beauty of either. Her leg was bouncing from her boredom, but the cake was strikingly good. She needed to find out the recipe. Henry approached her with a man who stood a head taller than her in tow. The newcomer’s arms had the look of an archer’s.

    “Elizabeth, this is Sir Thomas. Thomas, this is Cursebreaker Elizabeth,” Henry said.

    “Well met, Cursebreaker Elizabeth,” Thomas said.

    “Please, Elizabeth is fine. No need for formalities, Thomas. We’re among friends,” Henry said.

    “Are you quite certain?” Thomas asked, his face scrunched.

    Elizabeth takes another bite of cake. “Yea.”

    “Then, I must say, Henry has told me much about you.”

    “Oh?”

    “He speaks to your kindness, your charity, and your calm demeanor.”

    She laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “He speaks half truths. But he has told me little of you, so who are you?”

    “I am the firstborn son of Sir Matthew of Huntersford and Lady Mary of Riverside. Heir to both fortunes, excelled in my studies, bested three tourneys held by our host.”

    “Boastful.”

    “I-” He stopped at that, jaw going slightly slack. “I suppose I am.”

    “He’s really not that bad, he’s swee-” Henry started before he abruptly cut off with a choking sound, and suddenly Thomas started choking too. It rippled out from there. Elizabeth stood up. She felt the magic smothering the room. A curse. She looked around the room.

    No, several curses woven together, she thought to herself, feeling the magic that smothered her. An asphyxiation curse, a transformation curse, and a memory rewrite curse, all woven together? How? That shouldn’t work, and for what reason?  Who would attack here? 

    Elizabeth shook herself. She had to solve this. She started drumming her fingers on the table, trying to think this through. She started moving; it helped her think. Walking by the people that had fallen into an unconscious daze, she saw in the crowd of downed dancers many faces of cursebreakers she knew. Her mind began listing them as she noticed each face. 

    Mina, Alexander, Paul, Mary – did all of this region’s cursebreakers come?  Was that normal?  Elizabeth shook her head to dismiss the thoughts.

    She looked up, and she saw a man about her age standing up. He wore a black and white suit – the outfit of a cursebreaker man. He was looking around in just as much shock as her.

    Is he the hexer? She thought to herself. She started to approach him. Softly, she began the vocables of magic. The sounds kept getting caught in her throat, the wall of magic in the room overriding her attempts to bring magic to her. She was near enough now to hear him chanting the same. His voice was a pleasant baritone; in another life, she imagined he could be a singer.

    He saw her out of the corner of his eye and turned to her. “Is this magic smothering you too?” he asked; she could now see the strain in his face. How hard had he been trying to push his magic?

    “Yes. I can feel the curse, but I can’t reach the weave.”

    “Then we’re in the same boat. I’m Michael. I must admit to being anewcursebreaker, justpassedtheexamlastwe-”

    “Elizabeth. Now breathe. I’ve been at this for about a decade now. Although I’ll say I’ve never seen anything like this before. Multi-curses are incredibly rare,” she said. And why weren’t you affected? Just who are you?

    Michael took a breath. “What do we do?” His hands were shaking.

    “Our job. We don’t have long, either; this curse is powerful, so it won’t take long before it will become truly irreversible. Panic will just make us sloppy. Focus, what are the facts we know?”

    “Right, right, focus, I can focus,” Michael said, his hands still shaking. “A powerful curse has been placed upon the castle; we don’t know why.” His hands kept shaking. “It smothers our magic, and, for some reason, us two have not been affected by it.”

    “Not entirely accurate, but good enough. Keep your mind on what you know,” Elizabeth said. Drumming her fingers on the side of her dress, she hurried to reach the next room.  Her dress billowed backwards and fluttered behind her with the speed of her movement. I need to know if it’s the whole castle, but the amount of magic here, it almost rivals what I’ve taken in over the years.

    Michael hurried behind her. “Wha-what are you doing?”

    “Checking the manor; we just know the ballroom is cursed, not the rest,” Elizabeth said, crossing the threshold of the next room, where she got hit by the wall of magic even more intensely than where she came from, and was forced back into the ballroom. “Huh. Cursed room, too.”

    “What’s theplan?”

    Elizabeth looked around the room; her eyes settled on the other unconscious cursebreakers. “Got any rosemary?”

    “What? Ah, y-yes.”

    “Excellent, get all their rosemary too.” Elizabeth looked at the candles lighting the tables. They are not ritually made, but it should work. Rituality is just a guide after all. She began to gather up the candles, carefully trying to not extinguish their flames.

    One to the north for the winds which guide ships, one to the east for the sunrise which brings the dawn, one to the south for the stars which guide sailors, one to the west for the sunset which brings the dusk, and one for the center which returnbrings one back to the self,  Elizabeth thinks to herself, remembering where to put the candles for the ritual. It had been a long time since she did any true cursebreaking with proper technique instead of just ripping the magic out to feed her own. Michael approached her; his hands were shaking still.

    “I’ve got the rosemary you wanted.”

    “Thank you.”

    She began the vocables of magic once more. The smoke from the rosemary began to take the shape of the weave, but it began to dissipate.

    No! No!

    Then Michael’s baritone voice joined in. The two of them together forced the weave to take shape.

    Elizabeth saw where the aberrations in the weave were around the room.  They were sloppy connections like the curse on Henry earlier.  This wasn’t the work of a practiced hand, but someone working unsure of the weave’s pattern.

    How did they get so much power if they are this sloppy?  It almost feels… borrowed.  In the same way using a quill that isn’t yours does.   Elizabeth thought to herself.  She noticed Michael in the weave. 

     Michael himself was covered in sewn lines. It wasn’t a shoddy job; it was a lot like hers, as if they had been taught to sew the weave by the same person. If she wasn’t intimately familiar with what she was looking at, she may not have noticed, but his were fainter than hers. They had not had as much time to set or absorb power.

    Is he like me? Similar at least? If he is, are there yet more; am I not alone? No, no time to think about that. Just don’t touch him. Focus. The room is ours, Elizabeth thought to herself. She grabbed hold of line after line; she pulled on it, acting like a seam ripper, and spooled the loose magic around her. It was hers to have, hers to keep; she grabbed what should’ve been the last thread, but it grabbed her.

    A voice pounded in her head. CURSEBREAKER, YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE INTERFERED. NOW YOUR MAGIC IS MINE.

    Elizabeth felt herself unraveling. Memories flashed by. She felt like she was burning. She had felt this once before, when she had reshaped herself.

    She knew this could only end one way. No. No! I won’t let it end like this.

    YOU HAVE NO CHOICE. NO CHANCE. ALONE IS HOW YOU DIE.

    She pulled back on the magic trying to hold herself together.

    “She’s not alone!” Michael said, his voice cutting through the pain. She felt his hands helping hers guide the magic back to her. They were still shaking. But they were enough. She began braiding the weave of magic together.

    WHAT!  BUT HOW?!

    “Because we’re cursebreakers, hexer bastard!” Elizabeth screamed out, grabbing tight onto all the threads of braided magic, and her and Michael tore them from the hexer. The pair pulled the magic into them and collapsed.

    “We won!” Michael cheered out in an airless laugh, a bright smile on his face as he lay on the ground, collapsed. The other party goers, breathing hard as if they had just ran a marathon, began to get up.  Elizabeth stayed supine upon the ground and was trying to get control of her limbs again; they felt wooden.  There was a static buzzing about her ears.  It sounded like the flickering of the candles, but just ever so off, and it was so much more annoying.  Measured footsteps came from the hallway outside the ballroom echoing in.

    “I wouldn’t rest on your laurels just yet. What a pain in the neck,” a man’s voice said. Elizabeth recognized it: it was the same as in the weave, and now, without the pounding of magic, she recognized it even more.  It was Jacob’s.

    Elizabeth got up onto one knee. She lifted her chin and looked up at the hexer.

    “Jacob?” Elizabeth asked, shocked.

    “Yes, I had hoped to deal with my worthless son here. Although I will also be glad to be rid of you.” He spat out the last word. He lifted his hand and began chanting.

    “Father?! What are you doing?” Henry cried out, his voice cutting through the noise. He looked shocked and appalled.

    Jacob started laughing. “My fool of a son. I know whom you love; who do you think cursed you and Thomas that night? Your brother just had to get that involved. But, at least he’ll take a wife.”

    Elizabeth seized this moment of distraction; grabbing the raw weave, she chanted fast, “Heat from fire, fire from heat,” and she bound him with the threads of the weave. His arms were constricted to his sides, and his gagged voice fell silently. He started choking.

    “Liz!” Henry shouted.

    “What? He was a threat. Give me a knife. I can end this quickly.”

    “You are not an executioner, Elizabeth; he shall stand trial. He is, unfortunately, a noble. To kill him without due process is a serious offense,” Henry said, spitting in the direction of his father.

    Elizabeth looked at Jacob, his face turning pale. Rage was building inside her. Her feet tapped the floor hard until she started making her way towards him. Henry and Thomas both grabbed her shoulders.

    “Cursebreaker Elizabeth, please,” Thomas pleaded. She shook them off. Michael had gotten in front of her.

    “Elizabeth, what is the first rule?” Michael asked, his arms trembling.

    She remembered the first rule she was taught when she learned magic. “Those with power do what they please.”

    There was a flash of recognition on Michael’s face. It was clear to Elizabeth that he was taught in the same manner as her. “Not the first r-rule of m-magic, the first rule of c-cursebreaking.”

    Her shoulders slumped. “To do… no harm.” She loosed the grip of the weave around the man’s throat, but tightened the magic gagging him. She really didn’t want to hear him talk right now.

    She turned her back to Michael, her dress flaring out as she did, and sat back down at her table. Henry, Thomas, and Michael joined her at her table. Her feet were still tapping the floor. The other people in the room looked at Elizabeth in fear of her, and they gave the table a wide berth. The mood had been quite soured. Elizabeth didn’t care. She felt incredibly exhausted. She ate some more of her cake.

[bonefall]

BB!Lionblaze

For @jus-a-lil-mouse who requested a good helping of Lionblaze.

[ID: BB!Lionblaze. The older version of him is slightly balding, is fat, and has duller colors. His younger version is grinning and tapping his chest.]

The man who is both large and in-charge. Head of the Patrollers, respected, connected, a senior warrior with a short temper and sharp claws. He pretended to be straight to raise two daughters. He is disowned by his oldest. He always finds himself in the way of good food. He threatened to kill his grandson. He's a California Girl. He's a mama's boy. THE icon.

A major change in BB is that Lionblaze is the father of Dovewing and Ivypool this time around! While his POV in Po3 is reduced, he still has a really important arc about strength, protection, and the meaning of Clan life.

For a good summary of BB!Po3 and BB!Cruel Season, come check out his sister Hollyleaf. Also take a look at one of his adopted daughters, Ivypool.

Design Stuff:

I plan to revisit his younger form again in the future so that he looks more like an anime protagonist. Tentatively considering making the younger version 'fire' themed and the older version 'smoke' themed.

The mane was not a natural feature; it was part of his powers! He's losing it along with his super strength.

You'll recognize that stripe if you've seen his maternal great-grandpaw, Runningwind. It's on Leafpool, too!

That tail tuft is a gift from his biodad, Crowfeather.

I want the vibe of a hotshot young sportsball player 20 years after retirement, now settled down and babysitting his grandkids.

Trivia:

He's very passionate and quick to anger, but also has a silly and fun-loving side. There's a time to be serious and a time to relax.

His role in Po3 is shortened, but still important. His arc is mostly resolved in the reworked Tribe Visit, and set up for OotS to come. (Note: I need to write a new post for the Tribe's reduxed culture)

His mate is Toadstep, and his rival is Berrynose. Toadstep is usually holding him back from pummeling the juice out of Berrynose.

Spiderleg almost crunched his own son in the Great Battle while fighting for the Dark Forest. Lionblaze has been tense with him ever since, believing he should have been exiled.

His relationship with Toadstep in the past has been complicated. He had to raise the girls with Cinderheart so both their bioparents (Poppy and Jay) would always be able to access them, which once made Toad feel like Lion was spoken for.

Lion encouraged Ivypool to train in the Dark Forest and keep it secret, and pressured Dovewing to live up to the prophecy and put ThunderClan above all. His relationship with Ivypool is mending. With Dovewing, it is not.

I wrote about fatness in Clan culture already, Lion's weight is a sign of respect and connection. He's an accomplished hunter and his Clanmates are usually giving him samplings of their meals.

In terms of stats, Lionblaze continues to be one of ThunderClan's strongest warriors even after he loses his powers. This is mainly because he is vicious and cats of other Clans tend to be afraid of him.

He gets injured a LOT more these days though.

Lion's reputation with other clans is very bad. He actually resents this, particularly because it was Bramblestar who commanded the fight that Russetfur was killed in, which was where he got the title 'murderous rogue.'

He REALLY does not like Bramblestar. Both as a leader, and as a person. Being publicly disowned and seeing your mom demoted and ferociously shamed for a year will do that.

Squirrelflight is his mother. He has no father.

...Breezepelt can be his brother, if he wants, though. Complicated friendship that he wants to rekindle from simpler days.

FAVORITE FOOD: Anything sweet. Lion has the Sweetness Tolerance gene, and adores all fruit, syrup, and honey dishes. If he HAD to choose a single dish, he'd tell you, "Honey-baked mouse."

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lovely Hallows (II.I)

2. Slytherin

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic), Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (future)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, magic!, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Notes: Alright, here we go! The description of the Slytherin common room was given after I watched a very lengthy youtube video of a player walking through it in hogwarts legacy the game. Sorry if Aemond doesn't appear much, they are children and they are drawing their own paths, but soon, this is some sort of enemies to lovers trope haha

“Remember love, once you are in your dorms, you have to…”, you tuned out the sound of your godmother’s voice, too excited to hear, for the tenth time, all the things you had to remember. She, as your parents, all had been sorted to Slytherin, so all the tricks and passageways had been taught to you since you were born. 

You ran towards Draco as you saw him in the platform 9 ¾ as soon as you ran by the portal, your godmother would have chided you, but when she saw Lucius she kept her mouth quiet 

Your poor owl rattled in her cage, anxious to get out as you ran with her in the cart.

“There you are!”, he said, “I thought you were going to be late”

“Never, have you met my godmother?”, you mocked

You said goodbye to your parents, amongst hugs and kisses, and you entered the train after giving your luggage, you wasted no time and walked to the back of the train, where the most spacious wagons were. 

You could tell who were the seniors, and who were the first years, you really looked like tourists, looking at everything wide eyed, and in marvel, you found a cart just for the two of you, but then you were joined by Goyle and Crabb.

You did not like to hang out with them, but Draco did, and besides they were like a package deal, and with Draco too. The train started its journey, and after you waved your godmother goodbye from the platform, you sat with an excited sigh, as you looked outside the window, leaving central London, you could see muggles from here, and you always found them fascinating

“I heard that Harry Potter is on this train!”, said Draco

“What of it?”, you asked, diverting your eyes front he outside towards your friend

“It will be annoying, that’s all”, he said, “The boy who lived and all that, like a celebrity of some sorts”, he frowned, squinting his gray eyes 

“Can you imagine if he is sorted into Slytherin?”, you asked with a smile, he chuckled

“We should befriend him”, he said, with well known mischief in his eyes, “if he is as good as they say, of course he will be”

“What if I’m not sorted into Slytherin?”, you asked, doubt in your voice. Goyle and Crabb looked at you, but didn’t say anything 

“Of course you will”, Draco said, frowning, you were a second of believing he was going to call you a name for even thinking such a thing but he didn’t, “they have to”, he said, and this time, he seemed more scared than something else

“They will”, you said surely, regaining your confidence, a Slytherin wouldn’t doubt it, and that seems to cheer him back up again 

The journey continued without a hitch, you entertained yourself by looking outside the window to the beautiful scenery, and then eating fudge brownies Narcissa had sent you in Draco’s special box filled with treats. Draco loathed them but she knew they were your favorites. 

The four of you looked at the door, where a boy came in the cart, gasping, he had clearly been running, he had dark hair but clear eyes

“Have you seen my toad?”, he asked, “I’m neville by the way”, you were going to answer him with a smile and present yourself

“How dare you speak to us?”, asked Draco with a disgusted face, the boy curled his lips and looked down, and then he closed the door 

“That was Neville Longbottom”, mocked Draco

“I don’t know who he is”

“a Half blood”, and the issue was settled. Soon you had to change into your robes 

When you got out of the train, to a platform in the middle of a wood, you were met by a huge man, he was a giant!

“My name is Rubeus Hagrid”, he presented, he seemed nice, “first years follow me!”, you followed gingerly, grabbing Draco’s arm leading him too. Hagrid took you to a small dock, where boats were ready for you all. You climbed on one with Draco, Grabb, Goyle and another girl, and the small boats rowed themselves 

The sun was hiding on the horizon, giving a beautiful sunset over the lake, it must been the Black Lake, your godmother beseech you to be careful when you are near it, because it said to have creatures on the bottom, like, mythical creature such as monsters and mermaids

But that was kind of silly wasn’t it?

Soon the night had fallen over the lake, and you looked all around the dark woods, and then...

You all gasped in surprise when you saw the view of the lake and the castle over a dark hill, at night, with all it’s lights lighted up, it was breathtaking, you had never seen anything like it. IT WAS HUGE! bigger than the Malfoy Manor, bigger than your family home, maybe ten times as both houses put together 

It was so beautiful

All the boats made port on a small dock, where you were received by another teacher in the Boathouse, without a word she led you up the stairs, and you all followed closely. There were a lot of stairs, and when you got to the top, you were all visibly gasping, but there was no time for that, you kept waking until you reached the huge gates of the main part of Hogwarts.

You entered a huge hall, big stairs, you went up those stairs to find your luggage arranged on one side, but you kept going, until another professor stopped you. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts!”, she greeted, she seemed severe, “Now in a few moments you will got rough this doors and join your classmates”, she said, pointing behind her, “but before you can take your seats you will be sorted into your houses, they are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin”, she said the last name with severity, looking right at malfoy, “now while you are here, your house will be like your daily”, you shared smiles with Draco, your triumphs will earn you points, any rule breaking you will lose points, at the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup”

“TREVOR!”, the boy who was looking for his toad on the train jumped in front of the professor to grab his animal,  and she didn’t appreciate the interruption, but she continued nonetheless

“The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily”, she said and she left you. You wasted no time in turn to Draco and began giggling and whispering about how excited you are 

But his eyes went to a boy with dark hair and glasses

“That is Potter”, he whispered and you looked at the boy in wonder, that was the boy that “lived”? Draco wasted no time in approaching Harry Potter

“So it's true then, what they said in the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts”, all eyes where on him now, and everyone began whispering in amazement 

“These are Basilik”, he introduced, you nodded, “Crabbe and Goyle, and I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy”, will harry become your friend? he seemed kind of nice 

But then the Weasley boy snickered

You knew who the Weasleys were, everyone did, they weren’t hard to spot, you had met your father when he visited the manor a couple of times searching for dark items in the name of the ministry in which he worked for. Uncle Lucius loathed him, because he had taken things from the manor,  but he always smiled at you and gave you sweets from his hat. 

But Draco didn’t take lightly when you make fun of his name

“Do you think my name is funny don’t you?”, he asked, and you panicked, Harry Potter was not going to be your friend you gathered, “I don’t need to ask for yours, red hair, and a hand me down robe? you must be a Weasley”, he said, “Soon you will find that some wizarding families are better than other”, he said to Potter, “you don’t want to make friends with the wrong sort, I can help you there”, and he offered his hand

“I think I can sort the wrong sort, thanks”, he said dismissively, and you gasped, he had rejected your friend.

For better of worse, Mcgonagall came back, slapping Draco on the shoulders with a parchment, and your friend returned to your side looking defeated

“Such a tosser”, he whispered, and you only nodded 

“We are ready for you now”, said McGonaggall

He seemed mad, but he looked at you softly 

“Remember Basilik, only Slytherin is acceptable, is where the Wizarding royalty is anyways”, he said simply, but loudly, even Harry turned around to look at you, you nodded, feeling an irrational fear of disappointing your friend even though you had no say in the matter

“He is right you know?”, said the girl whose name was Perkins, she was one of the pure-blooded families of the Wizarding world, one of the 30

“I’ll do my best”, you mocked, and she scrunched her nose at you. You will only take shit from Malfoy, but no one else. 

You all stopped in front of the sorting hat, it looked old and strange, but nervousness started to take a grip on you. You looked around at the great hall, it was breathtaking, the ceiling looked like a night sky, candles floating illuminating the dining room, it was amazing 

“When I call your name, you shall come forth, I will place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses”, she said, and as she raised the parchments with your names on it, you felt incredibly nervous 

“Hermione Granger”, she called first, and a girl went up those stairs and sat on the stoll, whispering to herself to be calm.

As the hat was placed in her head, it came alive, a face being drawn on the old looking leather

She was sorted in Gryffindor

Then it was the time for your friend Draco

“Of course Malfoy was placed in Slytherin”, you heard boys speak behind you, you only smiled excitedly when Mcgonaggal didn’t even need to place the hat on Draco’s head to shout… “Slytherin!”

Many new students followed, many you didn’t even recognize and the opportunity you had vanished when they were placed in other houses, and then, Minerva called your name. Everything seemed to quiet down and stand still as you started walking wobbly the three steps, the professor smiled at you, and you smiled back, and then you took a sit on the stool, you finally got to see all the students seating in the great hall, all eyes on you, and you felt nervous, but a need to prove yourself seated deep inside you. The hat was strangely light when she put it in your head

“Mmmmm strange”, he purred, “I see bravery, yes, it will serve you right at Gryffindor, but also… a need to prove yourself, yes, I see that is more to you…”, the only thing you knew for sure is that you didn’t want to be at Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, you weren’t that nice or that smart anyways, “And I also see this resourcefulness, yes…. I know what to do with you!”, you closed your eyes in expectation and, “SLYTHERIN!”, when you opened your eyes again you were smiling, and your new house was cheering for you. Your smile was wide as you jumped to stand on your two, now secure, feet. You almost ran towards Draco, and took a seat by his side, as they kept cheering on! you were so happy, relieved, but also, deep down you always knew where you belonged. 

“I knew it, all pure bloods are in Slytherin”, he said, more happy 

“Aemond Targaryen!”, all the dining hall went quiet in expectation, and you looked back as the white haired boy went up those three short steps and sat down. Mcgonagall had this weird look on her face when she placed the sorting hat on Aemond’s head.

The sorting hat didn’t take as long as deciding as he did with you, he made his decision fairly quickly

“Slytherin!”, and the table lit up again. Most pure blooded families were placed in Slytherin, except of course, for the Weasleys, who were always placed in Gryffindor. And strangely, the Targaryens, Aemond had two sibling and they both were put on Hufflepuff 

As you looked at the table and saw your new family a warm feeling was placed in your chest, especially when Draco hugged you against his side. You knew how much he wanted this, and you knew how much he wanted you to be in Slytherin too, just like his family. You have succeeded. Aemond Targaryen sat in front of you, he had a smug look on his face. You exchanged looks shortly, and you felt relieved again.

The headmaster greeted you all, presenting the professors and the new ones for this year, and then, a huge feast appeared in front of you, amazingly, it had all your favorites! how did they know?

Crabbe and Goyle also joined you, even Pansy, and others you didn’t quite know.  

You enjoyed the feast, as you talked with Draco, Goyle, and others seated with you, the other older students barely even looked at you, but you paid them no mind. You didn’t know if it was because you were so excited and happy, but the feast ended as soon as it began, everything happened so quickly. 

Soon an older boy stood up from the table, and stopped right beside you were the first years were seated 

“I’m Felix Brunt, I’m the Slytherin prefect”, he introduced himself rather quickly, and he seemed truly bored, “follow me, I will take you to our dormitories” 

The entire first year group followed the prefect religiously, he kept coming down stairs from the main hall in the main building, until you reached something you will guess it was the basements and the dungeons, but it was greater than the rest of the construction, the style in the floor looked like golden scales, it you made so many turns and twists, you didn’t see anybody there but you. 

You stopped in front of a empty wall, a blank space in the stones between two beautiful carved pillars

“Pure Blood”, Felix said loud and clear. a scaly line on the floor came to life, a metal snake slithered over the wall, and on its wake, a door appeared

You all gasped, looking into what was the coolest of magicks

The door opened to you, and it revealed a small hall, beautifully decorated, and a set of spiral stairs coming down. He was almost running down, and you followed, the stairs were stone on the right side, but on the left side, it had pillars that let you see a beautiful waterfall falling down, it took you three floors to reach the end.

The small waterfall fell into a small pond, and your eyes feasted with lilies, and other water plants, carved in the stone there was a figure like a dragon, and as you looked on you saw all kinds of wonders, statues, paintings, decorations. 

You walked beyond the hall, and it led to even a greater one. It led into a huge hall, to the right, there was a huge living room with huge windows, through them, you saw what it looked like to be water, but it couldn’t be, could it? Where are you underground?

“What you can see over there are the depths of the Black lake!”, said Felix, “no matter what the mermaids say, just, don’t listen to them”, you could see all kinds of creatures swimming through the beautiful glass panels 

The living room had a huge vault like ceiling, with a glass dome that lighten up the entire room

it was breathtaking

The room was very comfortable, with tables, chairs and sofas to relax or study in, a globe was placed in one corner, and a couple of chess games, there were also many statues and skeletons of diverse animals, and bookcases filled with books

“This is the Slytherin common room!”, showed Felix, the prefect, “here you can chat, study, hang around, you are going to live here for the next seven years, this is your new home”, he showed, and while you all looked around in wonder, he seemed rather bored. 

You almost trotted back to the main hall, which also had many armchairs, and more study material

He led you to the other part of the hall, where you saw huge stairs, with a statue of who you guessed was Salazar Slytherin right in the middle, the stairs separated into, one set to the left, and the other one to the right.

“Up there are the rooms of the last years!”, he said, “you are forbidden to go up there, unless invited!”, he said, bored, “but here”, he pointed to two door on each side, “left for the boys, and right for the girls”, he said quickly, “your things must be already inside, good luck”

You shared looks with Draco as you separated, and you led the group of the girls through the huge door. It opened to reveal a huge tunnel-like construction, with a metal railing leading to what you guessed were the different rooms, all in a same circular hallway connected to all of them. The pillars amongst the huge corridor were beautifully carved, and as you looked up you saw domes of colorful glass. One door was open, you took it as a sign and you walked inside, you saw Umbra in her cage in a corner, so here was where you were going to sleep.

It had five beds, placed in a circular manner. And you were five girls, so you all were going to be sleeping here. 

The entire room was a circle, it had a huge fireplace on the other side facing the door.

“I’m here as well”, said Daphne Greengrass

“Me too”, you weren’t that excited about having to share with Pansy, but it could be worse, you believed. you all three looked at the girl who introduced herself as MIllicent Bulltrode, and another girl followed, Tracy Davies

“Don’t touch my things”, you said bluntly, “If you want something, ask for it and i will share”, you laid up for them, you all shared looks, as you crossed your arms, as Pansy did

“Agreed”, she said, you all looked at each other, and nodded, like coming to an silent agreement

“Us witches must remain united, as Slytherins, and as girls”, said Daphne, she was pretty, blonde hair, light blue, piercing eyes and a small nose. 

“Agree”, you said with a smile, Pansy smiled too, as did MIllicent and Tracy

“Just, keep everything tidy and clean”, said Tracy, looking around, you looked around as well

You went straight for your bed, it was a big bed, with a green canopy and carved wood. Each bed was placed under a beautifully decorated arch, each with a night stand on each side, and behind it on the wall, a beautiful painting. At the foot of the bed, was your trunk, with your cape and other parts of your uniform placed on top of it. 

You will never see the other common rooms, but you believed this was definitely the coolest and greatest of them all. You looked up to find a round skylight, through which you also could see the beautiful shapes of water drawn on the floor and all over the room.

All the girls were putting her things in place, on their night stands, Pansy was even placing a mirror on the wall

You were going to be happy here, you decided. 

Umbra hooted in her cage, looking at you with those fiery eyes, and you knew you were right. 

Taglist! @dreamingofyourmoons

[thebunnylord]

TTTE human pool headcanons

Thomas: starts out swimming like a normal person, but gets bored and begins pushing the pool rules before being put into pool jail

Edward: only swims during the senior swim, is a very slow swimmer, stays in the shallow end

Gordon: is aggressively swimming laps around the pool

Henry: hangs out by the edge of the pool, starts floating but falls asleep with the water soothing his aching muscles

James: wears the tightest speedo he could find, can’t swim, mostly goes to the pool to show off and sunbathe, (which only lasts for about ten minutes before Thomas dumps a bucket of cold water onto him)

Percy: can swim, but still wears a life jacket, has almost drowned numerous occasions

Toby: spends the majority of his time reading and watching the other’s shenanigans.

Duck: is not the most graceful swimmer, swims like this:

Oliver: is reenacting the Titanic with Toad on a pool floatie (in the shallow end)

Diesel: steals all the pool toys and goes around trying to drown others

Donald and Douglas: chicken fighting with the others

Daisy: spends the entire time lounging by the pool and yelling at anyone who dares get a single drop of water on her

Harold: is the life guard

Duncan: is arguing with the lifeguards after being put into pool jail

Skarloey and Rheneas: made the mistake of sitting too close to pool jail and now have to listen to Duncan complaining

D10: is banned for life from the pool.

Bill: is drowning Ben

Ben: is being drowned by Bill

Philip:

[the-phantom-author]

If my junior and senior years don’t eat I fear I’m done

Junior year eat without question, senior depends on what you take

[freakingoutthesquares]

Material World: Pulp Photograph: Ed Sirrs New Musical Express, 10 October 1992 Transcription: Acrylic Afternoons

Where are you and what are the vibes like? We are in Norwich and the vibes are like shimmering shards of incandescent plywood.

What was the last thing you ate? Nick Banks: Chicken In A Bun Candida Doyle: Branston Pickle Steve Mackey: Cucumber (whole) Russell Senior: Earwax Jarvis Cocker: A Skoal bandit

What was the last video you rented? Girl On A Motorcycle and we still owe six pounds because we took it back late, so because of that we've had nothing since.

What was the last good book you read? Dead Babies - Martin Amis The Cement Garden - Ian McEwan One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey Woman In White - Wilkie Collins Bonfire Of The Vanities - Tom Wolfe Steppenwolf - Herman Hesse

Fave political figures? Arthur Scargill, Harriet Harman, Michael Foot.

What TV shows do you try not to miss? Open University - Particle Physics Module One.

What sports are you good at? Water, pocket billiards, table tennis, cards, arm wrestling, gambling.

Which public figure do you most despise? Sebastian Coe (he gives Sheffield a bad name - he stood for Parliament because he couldn't run for toffee).

Fave TV shows of yesteryear The Spirit Of Dark And Dirty Water Double Deckers Hope And Keen's Crazy Bus Banana Splits Cheggers Plays Pop Any public information films

Most embarrassing records in your collection Ours, because our mothers insist on playing them when relatives and insurance salesmen come round.

Name three great songwriting partnerships Chinnichapp, Bacharach & David, Peters & Lee.

Fave punk rock records Candida: 'Another Girl Another Planet' - The Only Ones Jarvis: '1 2 X U' - Wire Russell: 'Pretty Vacant' - The Sex Pistols Steve: 'Bingo Master's Breakout' - The Fall Nick: 'Roadrunner' - Jonathan Richman

Fave historical figure Vlad The Impaler and the Whore Of Babylon.

Worst lyric you've ever heard "Kick yourself in the head/Pretty soon you will be dead..." ('Get A Life' - Julian Lennon)

Who's overrated? Wim Wenders, Jacques Poos (Foreign Minister of Luxembourg), Bob Dylan, Graeme Hick, John Barnes.

Who's underrated? Fellini, potatoes, Donovan, Momus.

Who's sexy? Jarvis: Jan Francis Steve: Jane Birkin, Charlotte Gainsbourg Candida: Jack Nicholson Russell: Ingrid Pitt Nick: Sue Carpenter

Punchline to fave joke "Elvis Parsley"

Where would you like to retire to? Jarvis: Whitby Russell: Scarborough Candida: Shetland Steve: Galway Nick: Cardigan Bay

Name a record that can make you cry Nick: 'Honey' - Bobby Goldsboro Candida: 'Romeo And Juliet' - Dire Straits Steve: 'Blue Afternoon' - Tim Buckley Jarvis: 'Always Coming Back To You' - Scott Walker Russell: 'She's A Lady' - Pulp

When were you last drunk? When we dressed up as a bottle.

What was the last dream you can remember? Candida: Eating live cockroach sweets Russell: That Rotherham was a major international conference centre Jarvis: Sticking up toads at the top of my gran's cellar steps Steve: Being dressed in women's clothes at a disco

Three records guaranteed to make you dance 'French Kiss' - Lil' Louis 'Groove Is In The Heart' - Deee-Lite 'Disco Inferno' - Trammps

What was the first record you heard? Nick: 'Mr Tambourine Man' - The Byrds Candida: 'Love Is Just Like A Merry-Go-Round' - Sandie Shaw Steve: 'Itchycoo Park' - The Small Faces Russell: 'The Ring' - Wagner Jarvis: 'The Strange World Of Guerney Slade' - Max Harris

Fave fabrics Dacron, Trevira, Courtelle, Lycra, Dralon, Velour, Towelling, Darron, Suedette, Moleskin, Velvet, Sharron.

Motto "That which does not destroy us makes us stronger"

[hel-the-growl]

Cultural Annotations on New Gods: Yang Jian -Part 2-

Part 1

Shen Gongbao was an original character from IOTG not rooted in mythology. In it, he defected from the Chan Sect to assist the tyrannical King Zhou of Shang against the forces of justice. There are several adaptations misrepresenting Shen Gongbao as a leopard spirit, or that he rode a leopard however none of these were in the original text. His white tiger in New Gods is accurate.

His character design is a nod to poet Liu Ling, one of the “Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove”, who was an alcoholic. The poem he recites outside the lighthouse was “Ode to the Virtue of Wine” by Liu Ling.

The concentric circle design of the portal resembles Ancient Chinese jade pendants from the Western Han Dynasty. The recent winter olympic medals are also inspired by the same pendants. It rotates like an armillary.

The stamp on the crate of cosmic gas is that of the White Tiger, one of the Four Symbols of the Chinese constellations, guardian of the cardinal direction of west. The same stamp was on the crates at the gas station, and the teller was servicing at "Yin window" (寅字口). Yin is the third of the twelve Earthly Branches, which correlates with the year of the tiger, hence the tiger symbol.

Yingzhou is based on the Yueyaquan sand dunes in Dunhuang, a cradle of Buddhism in China, located in Northwestern Gansu.

The nearby Mogao Caves famously depict murals of the Flying Apsaras, represented by Wanluo’s dance in the Yingzhou Music Hall. The song the “Ballad of the Luo River Goddess”, was written by Cao Zhi, whose poetry was greatly revered during the Southern and Northern Dynasties where the movie takes place, so the timeline checks out.

Pigsy, is that you?

Mo Lishou mentioned that Yang Jian also used underhanded methods to capture them. This is a reference to the incident in IOTG when Yang Jian deliberately let himself be eaten by his mink, killing it from within and transforming himself into the mink to infiltrate the brothers’ hideout in order to steal Mo Lihong’s havoc umbrella.

Surprisingly, Yang Jian’s title on his arrest form is still “True Monarch of the Pure Source”. His full title is the True Monarch of the Pure Source, Great Heavenly Deity of Justice (Qingyuan Miaodao Zhenjun, 清源妙道真君司法大天神), a status bestowed to him by his uncle the Jade Emperor. Ironic that the god of justice gets thrown into jail.

Prison gates were traditionally guarded by Bi’an (狴犴), the seventh son of the dragon king, a dragon-tiger hybrid. The one behind the pillar should be Bi’an.

The cute bronze dragon at the bell tower is Pulao (蒲牢), fourth son of the dragon king. He is a small four-legged dragon-toad hybrid who likes to scream, and is usually represented on the tops of bells, used as handles.

He is nested on top of the Azure Dragon (青龍 Qīnglóng), another one of the Four Symbols of the Chinese constellations, representing the cardinal direction of east.

The giant beast inside the prison is Kaiming (开明兽), a mythical creature with nine heads from the abyss in Kunlun, described in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

The Sword of Cutting Immortals belongs to Yuding.

Shen Gongbao refers to Yuding as sect brother. Strictly speaking, they are indeed sect brothers as they were both Yuanshi Tianzun’s disciples from the same generation, and Yang Jian’s seniors.

Shen Gongbao quotes a line from the poem “善哉行” by Cao Pi.

The first time we see Chenxiang’s primordial spirit manifest, it glowed green and was shrouded in smoke due to the influence of Shen Gongbao, holding a dagger and wearing a bamboo hat.

Later when he’s been around Wanluo for a time, it turned pale gold while he gained tendril-like chains, similar to Wanluo’s threads, with daggers on the ends of them.

By the time he was ready to cleave the mountain after having followed his uncle around and learned Nine Turns Mystical Arts, we see the final evolution in the form of a vibrant gold figure that has lost the bamboo hat and now fully embodies a little general.

Jian drops into Chang’an, the Imperial City in the mortal realm in the midst of a civil war during the Jin dynasty. The Eastern Jin dynasty was in near-constant conflict with the northern states for most of its existence. Chang’an, located in present-day Xi’an, has a lot historic significance as the capital of several major dynasties in Ancient China, and is a treasure trove of cultural relics.

Mount Li is a scenic location about an hour’s drive from the Fortifications of Xi’an. A complex of hot springs are located in the area known as Huaqing Pool, likely serving as the basis for Duyue Pool.

This scene is gorgeous.

Wanluo tells the story of King You of the Zhou Dynasty at the Beacon Tower of Mount Li, who was slain in 771 BC. The tower still stands today as part of the Huaqing Palace complex.

Further west is Mount Hua, the sacred mountain known as the "Western Mountain" of the Five Great Mountains of China. Lotus Peak is located on the western side of the mountain.

The paths leading up the mountain involve steep staircases, vertical ascents, and narrow plank trails bolted onto the cliff face, often labelled as some of the most dangerous hikes in the world.

The Nine Turns Mystical Arts (九转玄功) is the unique ability of Yang Jian. It grants him vast, physical durability of undefined limits and nigh-invulnerability to conventional weapons and various magic spells.

This was such a bittersweet moment when he stopped the wind chimes.

The scene where Chengxiang paused at Shen Gongbao’s monument was heartbreaking.

365 gods were canonized at the Investiture Altar of Mount Qi. Shen Gongbao was the last one on the list.

Yuding borrowed the Deity-Binding Chains from his master Yuanshi Tianzun, which were confiscated from Tu Xingsun. Tu Xingsun once used them to bind Nezha, Huang Tianhua, Jiang Ziya etc.

The Yin Yang Scroll belongs to Taishang Laojun, who along with Yuanshi Tianzun and Lingbao Tianzun make up the Three Pure Ones - three highest gods in the Daoist pantheon. In IOTG, Yuanshi Tianzun’s disciple Chi Jingzi also borrowed it to subdue Yin Hong.

The text on it comes from “Taishang Laojun’s sutra of everlasting tranquility” (太上老君说常清静经).

Part 1｜Part 3｜Part 4

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

Australia has also become a case study in what happens when people push biodiversity to the brink. Habitat degradation, invasive species, infectious diseases and climate change have put many native animals in jeopardy and given Australia one of the worst rates of species loss in the world.

In some cases, scientists say, the threats are so intractable that the only way to protect Australia’s unique animals is to change them. Using a variety of techniques, including crossbreeding and gene editing, scientists are altering the genomes of vulnerable animals, hoping to arm them with the traits they need to survive.

“We’re looking at how we can assist evolution,” said Anthony Waddle, a conservation biologist at Macquarie University in Sydney.

It is an audacious concept, one that challenges a fundamental conservation impulse to preserve wild creatures as they are. But in this human-dominated age — in which Australia is simply at the leading edge of a global biodiversity crisis — the traditional conservation playbook may no longer be enough, some scientists said.

“We’re searching for solutions in an altered world,” said Dan Harley, a senior ecologist at Zoos Victoria. “We need to take risks. We need to be bolder.”

Still, no matter how sophisticated the technology becomes, organisms and ecosystems will remain complex. Genetic interventions are “likely to have some unintended impacts,” said Tiffany Kosch, a conservation geneticist at the University of Melbourne who is also hoping to create chytrid-resistant frogs. A genetic variant that helps frogs survive chytrid might make them more susceptible to another health problem, she said.

There are plenty of cautionary tales, efforts to re-engineer nature that have backfired spectacularly. The toxic cane toads, in fact, were set loose in Australia deliberately, in what would turn out to be a deeply misguided attempt to control pest beetles.

But some environmental groups and experts are uneasy about genetic approaches for other reasons, too. “Focusing on intensive intervention in specific species can be a distraction,” said Cam Walker, a spokesman for Friends of the Earth Australia. Staving off the extinction crisis will require broader, landscape-level solutions such as halting habitat loss, he said.