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wangxianficrecs · 28 days

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They Say by ChilianXianzi

They Say

by ChilianXianzi

T, 3k, Wangxian

Summary: "If anyone were to finish off the Yiling Patriarch once and for all, of course it would be Hanguang-Jun!" Lan Wangji's step stutters, halts. Perhaps on any other day, he would have ignored the stray jibe, when Wei Ying's presence is not so keenly missed after weeks of separation. On any other day, when it's not so close to the anniversary of Wei Ying's death, perhaps Lan Wangji would simply walk away. Brush off the outlandish hearsay like water off a duck's feather coat. But not today. Kay's comments: OK. So. Rumours and how they can lead to destruction are a core theme of MDZS, however, I never really thought about how rumours and their continued existence can be almost traumatic for certain characters? So this story really gave me something to think about, with Chief Cultivator Lan Wangji really suffering due to people still whispering about how he will conquer the Yiling Laozu. At the end of the days, Wangxian have each other, but even they cannot ignore the rest of the world completely. Great story, absolutely loved it! Excerpt: There were all manner or rumors as Lan Wangji weaved through the jianghu and the land, of the Yiling Patriarch's evil deeds, of his betrayal to his Sect, of the curse he left on the world upon his much-deserved death. Already, the memory of Wei Ying's voice was blurred in his mind, the curve of his smile smudged with time and Lan Wangji's own pain. He wanted to lash out, wanted to scream at the people who handled Wei Ying's name so callously, so cruelly, staining the last of his memories with careless hate. To be free from worldly matters. Perhaps it had been a prayer, his mother's fervent hope for her son's life to not be dictated so by the words and made-up stories of others. But in his avoidance of worldly opinions and the judgement of others, Lan Wangji thought that perhaps he had lived no life at all. Had circled neatly around the things that would have made him himself, until Wei Ying had challenged all of his caution and distance. And so Lan Wangji endured. Broke more of the rules etched in his heart by his Sect as he tried to do what he could for the people the Cultivation world ignored and neglected. He spoke his mind, showed his distaste of the corruption and greed of the Sects, stopped going to the lavish conferences his fellow Cultivators were so fond of. He tried to listen more to ones who were often unheard, to understand more why people did the things they did. Raised A-Yuan with the freedom and abundance of visible love he was denied in his own childhood.

pov lan wangji, post-canon, canon modao zu shi & the untamed combination, chief cultivator lan wangji, established relationship, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, rumours, implied/referenced character death, grief/mourning, fluff and angst, good parent lan wangji, lan family feels

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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flaringgoosebumps · 2 years

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This is who we are now huh

#me too fam #stranger things #byler #byler is real #byler is requited #st4 #stranger things 4 #bylers are delusional #they say #yes idc #i chose this lmao

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short-wooloo · 1 year

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Some idiot commenting on a Twitter post for SW Visions S2: "learn your own lore! Jedi don't conceal their lightsabers! That's a sith thing!"

Replies:

"Guess Luke isn't a Jedi" (hiding his lightsaber in R2 in ROTJ)

"Just admit you're making up shit to bitch about new SW"

"Kanan concealed his lightsaber"

"Tera Sinube's lightsaber is hidden in his cane"

"The Jedi have to conceal their lightsabers to survive after order 66"

"Visions is a non canon reimagining, it doesn't have to follow the lore (but also it isn't ignoring lore, plenty of Jedi conceal their lightsabers, especially after order 66)"

(Personal favorite) "Because all Jedi are all exactly the same at every point in the timeline, even in alternate universes"

"Breaking news, Master Sinube is a sith lord"

#wooloo-writes #wooloo writes #star wars #sw #idiots #“learn the lore!”#they say #did you?#jedi #kanan jarrus #tera sinube #star wars visions #sw visions #visions #visions season 2 #star wars visions season 2 #sw visions season 2

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findmeabowlofundertale · 2 months

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HAPPY TOSS HIM TUESDAY

(Better stop trying to sneak work on your days off, Gaster)

#asteri’s tail flicks or sways when she’s annoyed #kind of like a leopard gecko #seeker draws #seeker oc #asteri #⁂ gaster #seeker gaster #⁂ text posts #⁂ art #⁂ memes #i scribbled those wingdings really fast so they’re super inconsistent #they say #‘‘I’M IN DANGER’’

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jamesisasimp · 1 year

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Hey, so remember this?

Yeah, well I wrote it. Here it is. It's called In The Woods ♡ enjoy

You know how, partway through to the achievement of a goal, the journey gets sort of stagnant? Something shifts from fighting to drifting, waiting, for something, anything to progress. It's at this point that people are usually searching for something to break the pattern, to reignite the flame, to push them on.

Regulus has been drifting for months, and this, he thinks, is his break in the routine.

Admittedly, he's not too sure what this is, but he takes his wand out of the sheath in his sleeve and ventures out of his tent.

It's late October, possibly early November. He hasn't been too capable of keeping track in the middle of the woods, and the trees here don't change color or lose their leaves. But it's cold now that he's out of his heating charm's reach, and the air smells of that crisp, freshness that only winter brings. He pulls his cloak tighter around himself and presses on.

His camp is small, set up within the constraint of a circle no wider than six meters across. The idea was to put up a dome of protection charms, and the smaller the dome the less of a magical footprint it leaves - harder to find. It's practical, safe, but it means every time he steps outside of range he's exposed. It makes every venture, including this one, nerve wracking.

At least all of the other times he was heading out with a purpose. Not that chasing the sound of a whining, wounded animal through the dark, cold woods in the middle of the night isn't a purpose. It's just not a very good one and yet. Here he is.

"Lumos," he murmurs, and his magic hums to life through the tip of his wand, illuminating him and the trees nearest. Now that there's light he can see his own breath.

He should've known because he was nearly blind before, but he glances up through the branches to get a glimpse at the moon and finds it unfull. Barely a sliver. No wonder it was so dark. But that means the culprit of the noise isn't a werewolf that Regulus is heading right towards to get mauled.

There's no wind tonight, so the trees don't sway and their needles don't rustle and fall. In fact, the forest is oddly still. No critters scampering about and causing a fuss or birds calling. Maybe they're asleep. It's quiet. Too quiet.

All Regulus can hear are the deep animalistic groans in the distance, his footsteps, and something ringing in his ears.

So he goes, pinching the neck of his cloak together rather than pulling up the hood, and hoping the cover of darkness will keep him protected. Even though the silence makes him afraid to breathe and get caught out of bed when he shouldn't be.

Noting this, he should be scared, and yet he realizes he's not.

There's an odd, serene calm about all of this. He feels frozen in time, like this isn't really happening for the rest of the world, just him. Maybe it's the stillness or not knowing the day or the time, or maybe it's that Regulus is about to interact with a living - and likely dying, by the sound of it - thing for the first time in... in a while.

He feels untouchable as he weaves around trees and climbs up over rocky inclines. The sound gets louder and the ringing does too, and Regulus faintly regrets not adventuring in the woods as much as Sirius when he was a kid. Maybe then he'd know what animal is making the sound before he sees it.

It's a rather dreadful sight.

The deer- no, there's antlers. Stag. It's crumpled over on it's side, sprawled out in the middle of a small clearing where the frost has begun to build up on the grass. There's blood. From this distance Regulus can't see from where, but, if he had to guess, the pink and jagged tears over the animal's ribs is likely the source.

It's in obvious pain, kicking weakly in distress and moaning visibly into the air. The only odd part is... there's no culprit. No muggle hunter with a gun, though there shouldn't be in these woods anyway. No wolf or bear. Do they have bears in Scotland? Regulus hasn't a clue, but if they did he doesn't imagine they're the rare type of bears that just wound a stag for fun and leave it to bleed out rather than finishing it off.

His heart aches to see a creature in such pain. He knows this deer isn't the only one out there withering tonight, but it's the one he can actually reach. He can help. And maybe he should just leave it here because it'll take uncomfortably too long to heal it, but he can help.

That's why he's out here in the first place, isn't it? To help. He's not, but right now he can, and that's what matters.

And he didn't come all the way out here for nothing.

If he had been on more of those woodland adventures when he was younger, he might know better than to creep up on an injured animal. The goal isn't to spook it. If possible, Regulus would like to mend it's wounds and send it on it's way. It's probably got a family to get back to by now.

But he hadn't, so he doesn't know, and so when his boot lands on the frozen grass with a crunch and announces his presence, he isn't expecting the hoof he gets to the chest.

It knocks the air right out of his lungs and sends him tumbling back with the force, tripping over his own feet until he's falling. When he hits the ground he's gasping for air.

It comes to him. One terrifying beat late.

He breathes.

Right then. Probably shouldn't have snuck up on it like that.

The stag is in near hysterics and Regulus pushes himself up onto his elbows. It's thrashing out, and this time he knows well enough to stay out of range when he climbs back to his feet, inwardly accepting the bruise that it's undoubtedly going to leave.

"Alright," he's trying to talk to it before he can stop himself. A deer. He's talking to a deer. Well, at least it can't talk back and let him know how rotten he is at conversation. "Alright, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you."

If the stag understands him, which it presumably does not, it doesn't care.

"Please, would, you just-" Regulus was trying to get closer again and had to jump back to avoid his legs being knocked out from beneath him by another swiping hoof. "Yes, I know how strong and scary you are, you haven't got to show me again. Let me- hey!"

The stag tipped its head forward enough to get one of its antlers caught the end of Regulus's cloak. It's instantly tangled in the material, and when he tries to tug it off the stag outright screams and yanks in his own direction, which makes Regulus stumble closer to the stomping hooves of death.

"Okay! Okay, you want the cloak?" he asks, not expecting an answer and not getting one as he shrugs off his other sleeve and tosses it onto the ground. "There, you can have it."

The stag is still panting but, without the tension to fight, it's head just flops over onto the heap of the cloak. It let's out a heavy sigh through its nose, one Regulus can only imagine is of pain, and his heart clenches.

"That hurt you, didn't it?"

The stag is still watching him as he carefully lowers himself to his knees. He's proper cold now, goosebumps trailing all up his arms, but that's not his biggest concern. If the deer wants his cloak to stay calm then he can have it. Anything to keep those hooves on the ground.

He doesn't have to get any closer to see the severity of the major wound on the animal's ribs. A whole chunk of flesh is missing, like someone took a spoon and just scooped it out, and the surrounding fur is matted in blood that shines in the light of his wand. The good thing, he supposes, is that he can't see bone, so the wound can't be too terribly deep. The ribs are sort of right under the surface, aren't they? He's a bit shit at first aid on people, let alone animals...

"Right. Well I can mend that a bit, replenish the skin and get you some bandages," he tells the deer, who only huffs in response. "But this wouldn't have hurt your head..."

He has to inch closer to get a better look at the deer's neck, which makes the animal rigged, tense and ready for a fight.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he reminds it. "I just want to help. Can I...?"

He points towards the stag's neck, and, for a long moment, it just stares at him. Then, eventually, it lays its head back down, seemingly granting him willing access.

Maybe, somehow, it can understand him.

"Thank you."

He settles on his hip with his legs bent, following the curve of the deer's outstretched front legs. The ground is hard and freezing, but he doesn't care.

There's no surface level damage that he can see, so Regulus suspects it's a sprained muscle of some sort, under the skin. Carefully, slowly, and with an eye on the deer's face to make sure it doesn't suddenly lose its mind again, he presses his hand to the animal's neck. The fur is surprisingly soft for a woodland creature, but he's not feeling for that, far more interested in the skin underneath.

He was expecting a knot of muscle, like you get in your shoulders when you overuse them in an odd position. Massage it and it disappears, but that's not what he finds. It's a bump, a bit of uneven, raised skin. It's a-

"Scar," he whispers. "Now where'd you get that?"

The stag makes a rumbly noise that Regulus can feel under his fingers. Which doesn't clear anything up, by the way, but he appreciates the effort.

Still, it seems fresh. Maybe it's pressing on something that agitates the stag, he doesn't know. He's not well versed in the anatomy of deer.

Either way, it's nothing that requires his attention too drastically.

The stag is still looking at him with wide, dark brown eyes, and Regulus continues to gently stroke his neck until he feels some tension leave the poor animal.

"What did this to you?" he whispers, searching the deer's gaze.

There's still no answer.

"Right. Well. Some dittany will fix you right up. Hopefully the silver won't mess it up..." he musses to himself and retrieves the bottle from his pocket. It's homemade, which does air a bit of caution, but Regulus needed something out here to protect him in case he did run into a werewolf.

Besides, he was great at potions. Hasn't properly brewed one in two years, but that's alright.

And, you know, if it doesn't work, at least then he'll know so he doesn't use it on himself.

He doesn't know why he keeps talking to the deer, but he hopes it's comforting it a little, if only just another sound for the animal. "It's going to sting," he warns, and the stag makes a sound of indignation that almost makes Regulus smile. Somehow it sounded... exasperated? "Well I'm sorry, do you want this wound to close or not?"

Another huff.

"That's what I thought."

He clamps the cap for the bottle in his fist to make sure he doesn't lose it and carefully tips the mouth over the wound. Just a few drops slide out and fall onto the gash, and the stag is instantly in motion, seizing and thrashing and trying to get away from the pain Regulus had warned about.

He ducks down and throws himself against the stag's belly, pressing his body close to avoid the hooves.

"Alright, okay," he tries to soothe the spooked creature, smothering a cough in its fur as he accidentally breathes in the thin green smoke coming from where the potion met the wound. "Alright. It's okay. Just a little sting, like we talked about."

The stag barely settles, but that's enough for Regulus to lift the bottle again, because the wound was big enough to need more.

There was no warning before he tipped it in, and that ended up being a mistake because the animal positively screamed. It lashed out so swiftly Regulus's arm jerked and spilled more of the potion than he meant to, but he capped it quickly and curled himself up into the stag's chest and just waited it out this time.

And this time, because he got enough of the potion on there, it actually started to heal instead of just hurting. He got too much, the bitter thought comes as Regulus pushes the now half empty bottle back into his pocket. I can always make more, he reminds himself.

It takes a while, but, eventually, the stag settles, slumping right against the ground like all of its strings got clipped.

When Regulus crawls out from beneath one of it's legs and into the light, there's blood on his hands.

But a quick survey of the wound let's him know it worked. It doesn't look good, because Regulus is an amateur and the circumstances were rather worse for the wear, but it's done. The green sheen is dissipating and reveals a smooth red scar. It's sunken in as deep as the gash was, so not a smooth transition by any means. At least it's not bleeding.

"There," he finally let's himself breathe. "Told you I'd fix you right up. Now you've got a nice battle scar to bring back to your family."

The stag let's out a miserable sound, one that pierces right into Regulus's chests and makes him wonder if, possibly, this deer is just as lonely as he is.

Not that there's anything to be done about that.

It's still using his cloak as a pillow, so he doesn't try to take it back. He pushes himself up and gathers his wand from the grass so he can mutter a bandaging incantation. That handiwork turns out much more successful, the smooth and clean bandages wrapping around the deer's torso to secure the wound. Ideally, it'll keep it somewhat clean and protect it from the elements until it's fully healed.

Ideally.

He casts a quick diagnostic charm for good measure, just to be sure there's nothing more he can do for the creature, and that's when his blood turns as cold as his skin.

"You- you've been crucioed."

He'd recognize the symptoms anywhere, and the scar- scar of impact. It only occurs when the spell is particularly targeted and strong. He knows because Sirius has a few, but...

But if this deer had the cruciatus curse put on it...

"Where's it's caster?"

In an instant the world shifts. Time is no longer frozen, the woods are no longer still, the wind has shifted and Regulus can feel deep within that he is no longer the hunter. No, he is the prey.

"Nox."

He snatches up his wand and climbs to his feet in an instant, eyes on the surrounding trees. He paid no mind to them before, but now the silent darkness has him on edge.

It's so empty that it can't be natural. Anyone could be there hiding behind the branches, any shadow could be ready to pounce, and Regulus knows he needs to act first or he'll be taken by surprise.

And he has come way too far, spent way too long, to lose it all like this.

But it's hard to hit what you can't see.

Magical energy is crackling in the air that wasn't before, frying the freshness right out of it.

It was a trick.

This was all a trick, betting on his empathy that Regulus had spent years trying to squash. Unsuccessfully. And he fell for it, right into the center of the trap, painted a bright red bull's eye with this deer's blood, just waiting for the arrow.

A trick.

A trick a trick a trick.

Stupid stupid stupid.

He's out in the open, unprepared, half blind in the dark.

Alright then, he wants to say, come out and get me. Stop hiding and finish the damn job.

But, before he can ever open his mouth, another voice reaches his ears.

"Regulus..."

He spins around and focuses his wand in an instant, curse on the tip of his tongue, and the only reason he doesn't let his magic out is because of what he finds there.

There's no wounded stag slumped over in the grass.

No, there's a man.

A stark naked man barely covered with Regulus's cloak, blood smudged over his sickly skin.

A man Regulus would know anywhere.

"James?" he breathes. "James Potter?"

#ah yes my favorite genre #romance between two people hiding away in the midst of a war trying to figure out how to stop it #the clost quarters and shared sense of importance and responsibility #i'm here to end this war #they say #knowing full well they're actually here to be gay #anyways #jegulus #starchaser #james potter #regulus black #the first wizarding war

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momentsbeforemass · 3 months

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They say

We all know that there are things that come between us and God.

Whether it’s an addiction. Or a toxic relationship. Or our politics.

Something as retro as one of the seven deadlies. Or something subtle as our own anger or negativity.

When something comes between us and God. The hardest part isn’t always dealing with whatever has come between us and God.

Sometimes the hardest part is dealing with other people. And their perception of us.

That is, whatever we were doing that got us off track? People get used to us being someone who does that. So much so, that’s how they define us. To them, that’s who we are.

“You thought he wasn’t going to do that? Oh, that’s just him.”

“She always says stuff like that. That’s why I quit following her.”

Which can be a huge problem when we finally decide to deal with whatever has come between us and God.

You would think that people would welcome the change. After all, when something comes between us and God, you and I aren’t the only ones that get hit by the fallout from that. It impacts everyone around us. At a minimum.

Given that, you’d think that their response would be something like, “that’s great, how can I help?” Or at least, “it’s about time.”

Instead, we get pushback. It’s almost like people are saying to us, “That’s your box. Don’t you dare try to crawl out of it. That’s who you are.”

Which is why today’s first reading (about the conversion of St. Paul) is so important.

Because this is exactly what happens to St. Paul.

God tells Ananias to go to Saul (Paul’s name before his conversion) and heal him. Ananias is a believer. He’s a good guy. But he still pushes back,

“Lord, I have heard from many sources about this man, what evil things he has done…”

And God’s response? God doesn’t waste time with what “they say.”

Because that’s what Ananias is throwing at God. A fancy version of “they say.”

There are a lot of reasons why God doesn’t waste time with what “they say.” First, God is, well, God. God already knows all of it. None of the evil things that have been told to Ananias thirdhand are news to God.

But more importantly, that’s not how God sees Saul. God doesn’t see Saul as the subject of rumors. As someone rightly on the receiving end of tales that grow worse with the telling.

As God tells Ananias, “this man is a chosen instrument of mine.”

Translation, God doesn’t just put up with Saul. God chooses Saul. Because God sees who he really is.

God sees the Paul that He made him to be. Because God has a plan for his life.

And all of that, because Saul took his first stumbling step towards God. His first step away from everything that he had put between himself and God. His first step towards Home.

It’s not unusual. This is just who God is. And how overjoyed God is, when we take our first stumbling step towards Him.

When God sees us taking that first stumbling step towards Him, towards becoming who He made us to be, God rejoices. And claims us as His own.

God turns to the angels and says, “See that? You know who that is? This woman is a chosen instrument of mine. This man is a chosen instrument of mine.”

It happens every time. When we take our first step away from everything that we’ve put between ourselves and God.

It happens every time. When we take our first step towards Home.

Because God doesn’t waste time with what “they say.”

Today’s Readings

#They say #Gossip #Getting between you and God #Other People #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #St. Paul #Moments Before Mass

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concoctionboy · 6 months

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They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but they also say out of sight, out of mind.

They say look before you leap, but they also say he who hesitates is lost.

They say a lot of things. Whispering from the shadows at night, lurking beneath the furniture, constantly muttering bromides in hushed and hollow tones. Mouthing empty maxims, apropos of nothing. They say so much, and it means so little, and yet they won't shut up, unseen but not unheard, though apparently unmeaning.

They say money makes the world go round, but they also say money isn't everything.

They say birds of a feather flock together, but they also say opposites attract.

Occasionally I catch a glimpse of one of them. An orange eye, a shadowy appendage, something that darts between dark places too fast to make out clearly but might be a hand, or might be a wing. But that's rare. Usually I only know they're there by their voices, breathy and quiet but somehow impossible to ignore, endlessly murmuring, endlessly murmuring. They say better safe than sorry. They say nothing ventured, nothing gained. Their speech is silky, sibilant, susurrous.

I don't know who they are, but I wish they'd go away.

#wizardposting #wizard posting #okay I'm not sure whether this really qualifies as wizardposting #but I'm not sure what else it qualifies as #they #they say

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lit-in-thy-heart · 10 months

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i am once again mad that 'indignance' is not a word

#it's a word to ME #ik the proper one is indignation but no <3 #they say #correcting the error in the fic they're writing despite the...indignation they feel #hoping beyond hope that the guy who i used that word with a lot doesn't clock that it's not an actual word #anyway #personal #lit talks

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further-from-maths · 2 months

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28th Feb 2024, 12:24

I'm back lol sorry for dropping off the face of this blog. that's what IB does to you I guess

Some very cool things have happened since I was last here in writing. I got all five offers back, and I've accepted a firm and insurance choice to two wonderful places!!! Their creative writing departments were wonderful, and the lecturers at my firm were genuinely inspiring to listen to. To get in, I need a 6 in English, and 36 points overall. I think I can do it. My current goals/predictions are:

HL English LangLit: 6 needed for uni, and I managed it in my one mock since switching up. If I get a 5 I can still get into my insurance just fine, but I REALLY want to get into my first choice if I can.

HL Psychology: 7 is the goal. I really want a 7, and there's no excuse barring a lack of revision to not get one. My psychology department is genuinely incredible, and I've done very well in all my mocks. I really want to make them proud so I'm hoping the essays they give us are kind.

HL Global Politics: 7 suggested by the mocks so far, but I'm not the most confident in my politics abilities. I do want a 7 in it if possible though because I really like my politics teacher and also want to make him proud lmao

SL CompSci: 7 almost certain considering my mock grades thus far. I'm not worried tbh.

SL Maths Analysis: 7 PLEASE Maths is so easy to revise and it's easy points!!

AB German: 6 is probably more realistic than a 7 because too many minor slip ups can sink the grade completely, but I really want a 7 too.

Core: 2 is what I'm expecting tbh. My EE and TOK were both fine but I don't think they were WOW yk. I'm expecting a B for my EE hopefully and a B for my TOK, but if I've made my corrections well then hugely maybe I can get an A, which would give 3 points????? That's assuming my EE is in fact B-worthy which I really have no clue about.

Obviously I want to get as high as I can, but if I get a minimum of a 6 in everything, that's still more than enough with Core. I know I'm extremely likely to get a 7 in at least CompSci, so at a minimum I'm thinking I'll get 39 unless core flops?? My goal is to get over 40 though:))))

I'm terrified of making some kind of mistake that gets me disqualified. I know that's irrational but the fear is still there. My English teacher kinda spooked me by saying someone once failed their diploma because they didn't put page numbers in their EE so uh.......................... woooooooo. I'malso terrified about AI writing affeciting me. I haven't touched AI for anything I've done for school ever, but I'm nervous that the AI checker will be bad:( And what if I haven't cited something correctly?????? aaaaaaaaaaaa:(((((((((( Also as a heads up, for this exact reason, I won't be liveblogging my exams lol. I don't want to risk saying anything I'm not supposed to regarding the exams, so I'll make notes and post about them after results day or so. If I post anything during exam season, it'll probably be good-luck posts and nothing more lmao.

We've finished content in pretty much every subject now, which is exciting!! IAs are nearly done -- just waiting for final confirmation that a handful of them are ready for submission, and I've got my computer science IA to finish correcting. The end is scarily close.

Feeling terrified, but as long as I keep my head down and work hard, it'll be alright. Less than 11 weeks left. Let’s do this.

75 days until.

#studyblr #study blog #ib student #ib studyblr #ibdp #further from maths #further from feelings #ib psychology #ib global politics #ib english language and literature #ib computer science #ib maths analysis and approaches #ib german ab initio #I’m back lamoooo #gonna post more regularly again #they say #75 days until

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