#event-driven architecture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamcubed · 8 months

Text

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

————————————————

Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

661 notes · View notes

visit-new-york · 1 year

Photo

Unlocking the Allure of Brooklyn Bridge Park: A Comprehensive Guide for Explorers"

Brooklyn Bridge Park, a gem nestled along the East River, stands as a testament to urban innovation, providing both locals and visitors with a stunning retreat. As you contemplate your visit, a cascade of questions might fill your mind. Fear not, as we embark on a journey to unravel the wonders of Brooklyn Bridge Park, addressing the queries that pique your curiosity.

Is there a cost to enter Brooklyn Bridge Park, or is it free for visitors?

One of the park's most enticing features is its accessibility—it's absolutely free! Brooklyn Bridge Park welcomes all, offering a respite from the bustling city without burning a hole in your pocket.

How can I access Brooklyn Bridge Park, and is there parking available?

Conveniently connected, the park is accessible by multiple modes of transport. Subway enthusiasts can alight at various nearby stations, while drivers will find ample parking options nearby. Whether you arrive by train, bus, or car, the journey to this urban oasis is as delightful as the destination itself.

Are pets allowed in Brooklyn Bridge Park, and are there designated areas for them?

Four-legged companions are more than welcome, making Brooklyn Bridge Park a haven for pet owners. Leash laws are in effect, ensuring a harmonious coexistence between humans and their furry friends. The park even boasts designated areas where pets can frolic freely.

What are the best spots for photography in Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Photographers, rejoice! The park offers a plethora of picturesque locations. Capture the iconic Manhattan skyline from the Pebble Beach, or frame the majestic Brooklyn Bridge against the setting sun from the Empire Fulton Ferry section. The possibilities for Instagram-worthy shots are endless.

What are the key attractions within Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Prepare to be enthralled by an array of attractions. From the impressive Pier 1 with its lush lawns to the tranquil gardens of Pier 6, each section tells a unique story. The famed Jane's Carousel, housed in an architectural masterpiece, is a must-visit, as is the renowned Brooklyn Bridge itself, standing proudly as the park's northern anchor.

How did the idea for Brooklyn Bridge Park originate, and when was it established?

The roots of Brooklyn Bridge Park trace back to community activism in the 1980s. What began as a vision to revitalize the waterfront burgeoned into reality in 2010 when the park officially opened its gates. Today, it stands as a testament to community-driven urban planning.

What recreational activities are available for visitors in Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Whether you're an avid sports enthusiast or a leisure seeker, the park caters to all. Engage in a game of basketball, try your hand at kayaking, or simply bask in the sun on the expansive lawns. The park hosts fitness classes, cultural events, and recreational sports leagues throughout the year.

Are there any family-friendly amenities or play areas within the park?

Families are in for a treat! The park offers playgrounds, water features, and a wealth of family-friendly programming. Spend quality time with your loved ones at Slide Mountain or embark on an adventure at the Water Lab, ensuring smiles for both the young and the young at heart.

Are there guided tours or educational programs offered at Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Delve deeper into the park's rich history and ecology through guided tours and educational programs. Knowledgeable guides unravel the layers of the park's past, present, and future, providing an enriching experience for visitors of all ages.

What are some of the popular dining options or food vendors in or around Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Savor diverse culinary delights from food vendors scattered throughout, offering everything from artisanal treats to international cuisines. Alternatively, nearby DUMBO and Brooklyn Heights boast a plethora of eateries catering to every palate.

In conclusion, Brooklyn Bridge Park is not merely a destination—it's an experience waiting to be embraced. Whether you're a local seeking solace or a visitor eager to explore, the park's dynamic offerings are sure to leave an indelible mark on your memory. So, lace up your walking shoes, charge your camera, and set forth on an adventure like no other!

863 notes · View notes

freddy-and-friends-au · 4 months

Text

The Freddy & Friends Askbox is now open!

——————————————

An introduction to Freddy & Friends:

Freddy & Friends is an AU created by Roux36 Productions set in the Five Nights at Freddy’s IP.

As opposed to focusing on a single “what if?” question for the AU, F&F is a rewrite of the FNAF story in its entirety, constructed from the ground-up to tell a more realistic, character-driven take on the original story.

——————————————

What asks will I answer? (Examples provided)

Lore (Ex: How do the spirits work?)

World-Building (Ex: Who made the pizza recipes at Freddy’s)

Headcanons (Ex: Who’s Jeremy’s favorite music artist?)

Art requests? (Not sure about this one yet… but maybe?)

Character Asks!

Ask a question from within the Freddy & Friends universe, and it’ll be answered by the creator of the Fazbear Franchise, HENRY ███!!!

(Preface by saying “Dear Henry,”)

———————————————

Click the keep reading to learn more about the Freddy & Friends AU! >>>

——————————————

How much thought did you put into this?

It’s not that I’m a massive nerd, but it’s just that I’m actually a massive nerd.

Animatronics are loosely grounded in real-world mechanical engineering, giving them plausible designs for them to have existed in the 1980’s (down to the very components that make them function.)

The restaurant itself has regulations and procedures to manage the animatronics during the day (this varies depending on the restaurant).

The restaurant layouts themselves have been redesigned to be more coherent with the rules of architecture.

The animatronic characters themselves have their own lore and personalities within the cartoon world.

I have a full list of employees who worked at both Afton Robotics and Fazbear Entertainment.

The rules of the spirits are grounded in real-world cultural beliefs, as well as typical ghost hunting traditions.

No character is written to be two-dimensional. The characters don’t just do stuff for the plot; they do them because it’s in-character for them to do so. They’re not just ghost children haunting the animatronics. They’re also human.

———————————————

What IS canon?

Basic media taken into consideration:

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Five Nights at Freddy’s 2

Five Nights at Freddy’s 3

Five Nights at Freddy’s 4

Five Nights at Freddy’s: The Silver Eyes

FNAF World (Surprisingly)

Five Nights at Freddy’s: Sister Location

Five Nights at Freddy’s: The Movie

Details Only taken from:

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria Simulator

Five Nights at Freddy’s: Help Wanted

Five Nights at Freddy’s: Security Breach

The ideas of these media are the content detrimental to the story of Freddy & Friends. However, the story of them has been changed so drastically that canon knowledge is considered unreliable when talking about the Freddy & Friends AU. Some things remain the same, but it’s recommended that knowledge of canon game/book/movie events NOT be used as a reference unless I have stated otherwise.

What’s the same?:

Mike Schmidt and Abby Schmidt’s character have remained almost exactly the same as in the movie. (Movie)

Michael Brooks is Golden Freddy (Novels)

Elizabeth Afton being killed by Circus Baby (Games)

The Bite of ‘83 (Games)

The Bite of ‘87 (Games)

Bonnie is blue

What’s changed?:

Note: not all changes will be mentioned here, due to spoilers. The reason they’re spoilers is because I will elaborate on them in future media and short stories.

Michael Afton does NOT exist—replaced by Fritz Afton

FNAF 4 Crying Child becomes the Puppet

FNAF 4 Bullies are the Missing Children

FNAF 4 Bullies are NOT bullies

The haunted animatronics have personalities, and are capable of verbal speech.

Sammy (Charlie’s twin brother) was killed instead of Charlie

Charlie is NOT an android

Very few employees (including night guards) actually died at Freddy’s

The animatronics are limited by the technology of the 1980’s, and therefore have software limitations that aren’t present in the games

Circus Baby’s Pizza World has been renamed to Circus Kingdom Pizza World

The names of the Funtimes have been changed to align with the re-theme

The Funtimes were NOT built with the intention of kidnapping children

The Funtimes are haunted

The Scooper does not exist

The FNAF 4 gameplay is a dream, and not child experimentation. (It is something more than that, but I will not elaborate further, due to spoilers. ;))

The Toy animatronics have been renamed to the Junior animatronics

The Junior location is Freddy Jr’s Pizzeria

The individual Junior characters have in-universe names beyond “Junior Freddy” and “Junior Bonnie”, etc.

The Juniors are haunted

There is no such thing as “Remnant”.

Vanessa Shelly is NOT William Afton’s Daughter

Steve Raglan and William Afton are two different people

Removed Herobrine

(Aforementioned name changes):

Circus Baby - Circus Sadie, AKA Sadie the Circus Princess

Funtime Freddy - Freddie the Ringmaster

Funtime Foxy - Foxy the Flying Fox

Toy Freddy - Freddy Fazbear Jr.

Toy Bonnie - Riley Rabbit

Toy Chica - Penny Pecks

Toy Foxy/Mangle - Bridget the Fox

——————————————

Thank you!

If you made it to the end, I wanna thank you for showing interest in this AU! I’ve been working on it ever since I was 11 years old, and I’ve just turned 20. It's been a long road with at least five rewrites and twice as many redesigns!

More Freddy & Friends content will be coming soon, in the form of:

A webcomic for the main narrative

Cinematic content

A VHS series

Short stories

Audiobooks for said short stories

A website to be!

The askbox is now open! There is much to tell, so ask away!

- Roux

28 notes · View notes

friendofcars · 11 months

Text

i've revised my trb chapter 36 notes and they've somehow expanded to ~15 pages. you can read them here (i've also pasted the text into this post under the cut). the notes don't constitute an essay or produce a coherent thesis but they're a pretty comprehensive list of observations and interpretations i drew from the chapter.

TRB chapter 36 notes (content warning for abuse)

Last updated: 230610

“’The buck stops here,’ Ronan said, pulling up the hand brake. ‘Home shit home.’” This is the first chapter where Adam and Ronan are the only main characters present- their first scene entirely alone, set in the BMW before Adam gets out. I’m thinking about a few things: how differently Ronan and Gansey talk about Adam’s trailer, his parents, his poverty, etc.; how Ronan’s flippant insults and nonchalant offers of help (despite genuine concern) are less alienating to Adam than Gansey’s more openly heartfelt concern, since it’s paired with criticism of Adam’s pride and a tendency to command rather than suggest (full disclosure- I love Gansey and understand his point of view, but it’s clear why his approach upsets Adam more, and I think Ronan, having felt smothered by Declan, is more capable of empathizing with Adam on the matter of refusing help moving out); the recurring theme of cars being a place of refuge and solace for Ronan and how he wishes Adam would stay inside the BMW (even though he knows he won’t). I didn’t verify what I’m about to say so if I remembered incorrectly please let me know, but I’m pretty sure that we see Ronan drive Adam in the BMW to the trailer park twice (in this chapter, and in TRK when Adam scries while Ronan drives [the “wrong devil” scene]). Nobody else drives Adam home (although Gansey repeatedly stops by to pick him up). Gansey is constantly bringing Adam away from the trailer, for good reason (and practical reason too- sometimes they’re just going to class). Ronan brings him back, setting Adam up to confront his life and make decisions to change it. I know someone else has written a tumblr post about Ronan putting Adam in these types of situations and it’s very insightful and I’d love to cite it here (so if you wrote it or know who did, please tell me!). But ultimately this sets up an arc that ends with Adam driving the BMW alone for a final conversation with his parents, in which he can come and go from the trailer independently and in control of his interactions with his parents- the effects of the abuse are not erased, but his character arc has such a trajectory that he’s able to get some closure on his own terms via his hard-won autonomy and healing (the BMW/Ronan has played a key role in establishing both).

“In the dark, the Parrish family’s double-wide was a dreary gray box, two windows illuminated.” The description of the double-wide has gone from pale blue in daytime to an absence of color- things are even more grim. No love, no liveliness. A strong contrast to the home from which they’ve just driven (300 Fox Way, which has a bright blue exterior). The illuminated windows seem like omens or warnings rather than beacons. “Box” implies simplicity, a lack of architecture, a constraining place, a place in which one might be trapped. I’m thinking about how the flat ceiling of a box-like trailer also contrasts with the multi-sloped attic of 300 Fox Way, perhaps symbolizing Blue’s family’s proclamation of Blue’s potential versus Adam’s family’s stifling of his talents, needs, wants, etc.

“It was a comfortable enough arrangement; Adam and Ronan weren’t in a fight at the moment, and both of them were too startled by the day’s events to start a new one.” Not that they don’t get genuinely upset with each other on page (things get heated in BLLB as the development of their relationship becomes more prominent/less subtextual), but I feel like we get told that Adam and Ronan don’t get along but they…usually…do, from our vantage point. When they do have conflict in the first book, it doesn’t seem as heavy/personally directed as when Adam and Gansey fight. I get the sense that a lot of their bickering is routine and low stakes, especially since the passage tells us that the day’s chaos and threat to Gansey’s safety has jostled them out of their typical (mundane?) arguing.

“Adam reached in the back for his messenger bag, the one gift he’d ever permitted Gansey to give him, and only because he didn’t need it.” I remember this sentence being critical to my understanding of Adam’s character the first time I read this series. Adam accepts the one gift he doesn’t need because he could get rid of it and suffer no dire consequences if the friendship ended. He wouldn’t have to rearrange his carefully made plans over a messenger bag if he wanted or needed to give it up at all. There’s no desperate gratitude or a gnawing need to pay back a debt- it’s superficial, not connected to his precarious survival, no implied reliance. There’s also something in here about a bag being used to carry things (burdens?) that I’m trying to tease out into words but haven’t yet. whoreshoecrab also made the brilliant observation that a messenger bag is more of an academic, white collar (and relatively impractical) choice of bag which I think plays into Adam’s willingness to accept something since it doesn’t highlight his desperate need for the bare necessities.

“Another silhouette, distinctly Adam’s father, had joined the first at the window. Adam’s stomach curdled.” We don’t get much information about the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Parrish (although Adam’s later concern about leaving his father’s gun behind implies that Robert also abuses his wife), but here there’s an implication of a united front against Adam. His stomach going sour is a visceral description of his fear- how terrible to go home to danger rather than safety. This sentence reminds me of one from TDT in one of the Gray Man’s chapters: “The Gray Man’s stomach wrung itself out… His brother had never intended for him to pick up; he merely wanted this: the Gray Man stopping the car, wondering if he was supposed to return the call. Wondering if his brother was going to call back. Untangling the wired threads in his gut.” (TDT, chapter 7), both serving as descriptions of a particularly physiological, visceral fear stemming from abuse.

“He tightened his fingers around the strap of his bag, but he didn’t get out.” Tightening -> builds tension in the narration as Adam braces himself for a confrontation. I mentioned this already, but cars often serve as places of refuge in the series. Ronan goes to wait in the Camaro after his brawl with Declan in TRB chapter 7 and after Calla goes for his neck in TRB chapter 15; Adam lingers in the BMW to delay having to go home in this chapter. Adam joins Ronan in the BMW in TRK in silent solidarity as Ronan grieves.

“’Man, you don’t have to get out here,’ Ronan said. Adam didn’t comment on that; it wasn’t helpful. Instead he asked, ‘Don’t you have homework to do?’ But Ronan, as the inventor of sly remarks, was impervious to them. His smile was ruthless in the glow from the dash. ‘Yes, Parrish. I believe I do.”’ A suggestion, not an order (i.e.. You don’t have to get out here vs. don’t get out here). Adam’s arguments with Gansey are often about how Gansey views/treats Adam; Adam’s arguments with Ronan are often about how Ronan wastes the time he has, the time he could be using for school work, the time Adam wishes he had. He’s genuinely frustrated that Ronan wastes such a precious resource, but the frustration is with a behavior that doesn’t have anything to do with himself (if he doesn’t compare himself to Ronan, which is another can of worms). Adam ignores Ronan’s comment- would he have ignored such a statement from Gansey, or started to argue? Would Gansey have ever phrased it like that? We get more insight into how they interact/communicate; Adam avoids arguing over serious circumstances but is comfortable resorting to banter since he knows there’s no risk of actual offense. There’s also a microscopic bit of dramatic irony here if you’re re-reading since the outcome of the events in this chapter directly lead to Ronan doing his homework in earnest.

“He didn’t like the agitation of his father’s silhouette. But, it was unwise to loiter in the car — especially this car, an undeniably Aglionby car — flaunting his friendships.” This chapter obviously shows Adam’s father’s physically abusive nature but also demonstrates how absolute his effect on Adam is, whether or not he’s actively enacting the abuse. Adam is constantly tuned to his father’s posture and follows a set of rules designed to minimize conflict and harm to himself. For someone running so low on time and sleep, this perpetual monitoring must add an additional layer of exhaustion. There’s no place to hide- to stay safe in the BMW is to potentially worsen his father’s mood, and to go home is to put himself in the path of danger anyway. Re: it being unwise to flaunt friendships: this was also crucial to me understanding Adam and his independence/lonesomeness; because the Parrishes are poor and Adam’s friends are wealthy, and mentioning his friends (which is criticized as flaunting) threatens his father’s insecurity about their poverty, Adam is conditioned to see connection and community as shameful, as a betrayal to his roots (which he is also taught to see as shameful- there is no winning). In the context of his family, he is safer on his own (but in the context of the world, he cannot move forward alone, and this is a lesson he must learn).

“If he shows up for class,” Adam replied, “I think that the reading will be the least of his concerns.” Subtle threat/hint at Adam having zero remorse for Whelk in future chapters

“There was quiet, and then Ronan said, ‘I better go feed the bird.’ But he looked down at the gearshift instead, eyes unfocused. He said, ‘I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if Whelk had shot Gansey today.’ Adam hadn’t let himself dwell on that possibility. Every time his thoughts came close to touching on the near miss, it opened up something dark and sharp edged inside him.” Like Ronan calling Adam “man” and “Parrish,” referring to Chainsaw as “the bird” serves as an example of Ronan keeping his emotional distance, maybe as a way of giving Adam space in a tense situation, maybe to disguise Ronan’s intense emotions. Ronan engages with his concern for Gansey by obsessing over the worst case hypothetical outcomes; Adam (who is typically concerned with planning for all the possible futures) chooses to avoid thinking about such fears at all. As explained in the remainder of the passage (next section), Adam cannot fathom a life without Gansey. This is a clear reminder that Whelk is Adam’s foil, not someone on a parallel path- for Adam, harming Gansey/Gansey’s mortality is too heavy to even think about, much less plot out. Something dark and sharp edged- a hole, a grave? In BLLB when Adam figures out that Gansey is on the St. Mark’s Eve death list, the narration says, “his heart was a grave” (ough). A place to bury impending grief? Or, if you’ve read TD3, this sounds a lot like the Lace, which is to say it sounds a lot like fear and insecurity and terror and being seen and the infinite and abandonment and grief and a lot of other things I haven’t processed yet.

“It was hard to remember what life at Aglionby had been like before Gansey. The distant memories seemed difficult, lonely, more populated with late nights where Adam sat on the steps of the double-wide, blinking tears out of his eyes and wondering why he bothered. He’d been younger then, only a little more than a year ago.” Not only is Adam currently repressing the thought of a life without Gansey, he recurringly prevents himself from crying. Adam alone at Aglionby, struggling to adapt and feeling like a fraud, with no one to believe in him but himself, is incomprehensibly sad. “Lonely” followed by “populated with” makes it seem like the late nights themselves were Adam’s only company.

“His hand worked on the steering wheel; something was frustrating him, but with Ronan, there was no telling if it was still Whelk or something else entirely. “No problem, man. See you tomorrow.” This assessment of Ronan (aside from an incidence of Ronan in motion/his kinetic way of processing emotion), in my opinion, serves to illustrate Adam’s self-perception and paradoxically egocentric and unselfish thought process (he’s self-centered in the sense that he has to prioritize his own needs to survive and is constantly worried about how he acts and feels and interacts with others and looks and on and on but is unselfish in the sense that he doesn’t consider the possibility that Ronan might be frustrated and worried about Adam himself). Ronan is reeling from grieving Noah, worrying about Gansey almost getting killed (which was a pre-existing fear, as we know from chapter 16 and the wasp encounter). And while we’re on the topic of chapter 16 and the aftermath of chapter 33, I hadn’t realized until now that Gansey’s “dual vision” when death is imminent (“Two narratives coexisted in his head. One was the real image: the wasp climbing up the wood, oblivious to his presence. The other was a false image, a possibility: the wasp whirring into the air, finding Gansey’s skin, dipping the stinger into him, Gansey’s allergy making it a deadly weapon.” And “Gansey had that same, detached feeling that he’d had in Monmouth Manufacturing, looking at the wasp. At once he saw the reality: a gun pressed against the skin above his eyebrows, so cold as to feel sharp — and also the possibility: Whelk’s finger pulling back, a bullet burrowing into his skull, death instead of finding a way to get back to Henrietta.”) is perhaps an effect of him living two lives at once, at both dying and surviving twice (but sort of at the same point at the time loop because both deaths and rebirths are temporally linked to Noah’s favor, powered by Cabeswater and the ley line). ????????????????

“With a sigh, Adam climbed out. He knocked on the top of the BMW, and Ronan pulled slowly away. Above him, the stars were brutal and clear.” Who else notably sighs? Noah, another target of physical violence. Ronan is slow, reluctant to leave. Over the next few pages (as Robert berates Adam and accuses him of lying) Ronan continues to slowly leave the driveway because Adam can still see his break lights (antithetical to a stereotypical Ronan response- speeding off recklessly). The brutal and clear stars- perhaps an acceptance of the inevitable cruelty he is walking into? Adam feels destined or cursed to suffer, maybe as if fate, is cold and uncaring. (but does he believe in fate? Evidence in TDT chapter 8 says yes, if not literal fate but a general doomed-by-your-origin/bloodline sentiment, although he also persistently rewrites his narrative and seeks autonomy in his own life, so I don’t think there’s a clear answer. If anything, if he does believe in fate, he sees it as mutable and probably something not named fate at all). I think it’s also notable that the stars are a source of calming comfort to Blue, rather than harsh and distant observers of her struggles. “The stars were brutal and clear” always reminds me of Javert’s Suicide from Les Miserables: I am reaching but I fall/ And the stars are black and cold/ As I stare into the void/ Of a world that cannot hold.

“Hi, Dad,” Adam said. “Don’t ‘hi, dad’ me,” his father replied. He was already revved up. He smelled like cigarettes, although he didn’t smoke. “Come home at midnight. Trying to hide from your lies?” Adam graciously attempts civility; Robert eschews all pretense of acting like any sort of father at all. He’s already agitated, by Adam breaking curfew (which he’s broken for good reason, though Robert doesn’t and can’t know this) or by anything else in the world- his anger is out of Adam’s control. We’ve recently learned Adam does not like to be accused of lying from his encounter with Declan (TRB, 31). The cigarette smell on an adult non-smoker is probably indicative of the company they keep- co-workers? Friends, if he has them? An affair if Adam’s mom doesn’t smoke? The midnight curfew is surely a measure of control rather than care, and is relevant to interpretation of Adam’s constant meticulously meted out aliquots of time (for school, for work, for friends, for sleep) and deep envy for/resentment of those that have time and waste it- not even his own time exists outside the shadow of his father’s fist.

“Adam’s knees were slowly liquefying. He did his best to keep most of his Aglionby life hidden from his father, and he could think of several things about himself and his life that wouldn’t please Robert Parrish. The fact that he didn’t know precisely what had been found was agonizing. He couldn’t meet his father’s eyes.” Emphasizes Adam’s need to always be hiding, keeping secrets, protecting the truth. Ronan is also familiar with the burden of keeping secrets in the name of safety. More description of the physical impact of abuse on Adam (in addition to the actual physical abuse- here I’m referencing the physical manifestations of fear and dread). I’m really interested in Adam’s relationship to his body throughout the series (and I’d have to dig up some other notes to elaborate but his POV chapters often pay acute detail to physical sensations, he dissociates on a number of occasions, his sacrifice of his hands and eyes and ongoing struggle for autonomy on physical and psychological levels especially as the unmaker/demon gains access to his hands and eyes, his healing occurring metaphorically via ley line work/outside of his own body, being alive because he bleeds, perhaps positing his awakening in BLLB as a reintegration of his mind and body after that pivotal scrying scene, etc. I would LOVE to discuss this more but I think I to collect my thoughts or the input from someone else on which to reflect- but this is probably the foundation of a legitimate essay imo). The liquifying sensation intimates a dissolution of the body, or the loss of restrained solidity and form, an unwilling spilling out of his tightly rehearsed outward projections. And finally, not knowing what his father found = lack of control = lack of strategy to defuse the conflict and protect himself.

“Robert Parrish grabbed Adam’s collar, forcing his chin up.” This is a repeated gesture in this chapter: a proprietary, controlling action, forcing Adam to make eye contact he’s trying to evade.

“Think fast, Adam. What does he need to hear?” Adam ends up carrying the burden of resolving the abuse inflicted on him, as if it’s his responsibility and not just a deescalating survival tactic. In TRB chapter 32, Blue muses that Adam isn’t often lost for words- but here, he’s scrabbling for words (he’s too panicked for his words/intellect to cooperate). This is another example of Adam’s solution oriented nature (the mechanic, the scientist)- here is a problem; how do I solve it?

“His father drew Adam’s face a bare inch from his, so that Adam could feel the words as well as hear them. ‘You lied to your mother about how much you made.’ ‘I didn’t lie.’ “Do not look in my face and lie to me!’ his father shouted.” This is one of the more visceral, tactile chapters in the book, with the narration appealing to sensation to convey the intensity of the conflict. The physical nature of the scene also highlights the running theme of Adam’s relationship to his body- how it’s integral to his survival but also how he bargains it away and how it betrays him, the duality of mind and body, etc. I’m remembering that in chapter 31, Adam is highly displeased to be accused by Declan of lying. And not that it really matters, but I wonder if Robert not originally realizing how much money Adam has to accumulate in order to cover the remainder of his tuition is due to a) a lie by omission or b) him simply not listening to Adam’s needs in the first place. Robert also keeps invoking Adam’s mother as she stands idly by, perhaps to emphasize that everyone is against Adam, as if Adam alone is in the wrong here. It’s also interesting that the yelling here is italicized rather than capitalized. I don’t think the books are entirely consistent about this, but I believe we see capitalized yelling from Maura, Neeve, and Jesse, at least. Because the characters’ internal monologues are also italicized, we get a visual representation of how Adam’s parents’ cruel statements worm their way into his own self-talk and therefore self-esteem, self-perception, and reflexive victim blaming (Adam later muses that he has some sort of Stockholm syndrome). The italics in external dialogue and internal monologue collectively simulate abuse survivors’ internalization of abusive rhetoric against themselves. It’s also a little impressive how quickly a knot forms in my stomach at hearing a father say the phrase “your mother.” Has anything good ever followed that phrase?

“When his father’s hand hit his cheek, it was more sound than feeling: a pop like a distant hammer hitting a nail. Adam scrambled for balance, but his foot missed the edge of the stair and his father let him fall.” I’m thinking about hands as tools used as weapons (recurring knife motif in the books, especially in TDT, and how Adam works with his hands, offers up his hands to Cabeswater and in the process the demon uses his hands to nearly kill Ronan). Previously, sound and feeling converged; here, they diverge; Adam is possibly dissociated from the violence to some extent (like a distant hammer, more sound than feeling, etc. … a hammer is also a tool that could be used as a weapon). Adam is literally scrambling for balance here (but also does so figuratively at all times and is often quite successful at maintaining his tightly orchestrated and exhausting equilibrium). The precise nature of Adam’s fall here is brutal- the hit doesn’t make him fall, but it knocks him off balance and the subsequent misstep makes him fall, which his father makes no effort to prevent- the abuse not only aggression but neglect, which is to say control in both positive and negative (not good and bad, but additive and subtractive/maliciously neutral) ways.

“When the side of Adam’s head hit the railing, it was a catastrophe of light. He was aware in a single, exploded moment of how many colors combined to make white.” The prose... The pain is absolute, infinite, world-ending. A railing is a safety feature; a parent is obligated to prioritize their child’s safety. Adam’s injury involving the railing is a testament to his parents’ failure to consider his safety at all. When Adam comes to on the ground, his face, especially his mouth, is “caked with dust” (which frequently appears when Adam expresses shame about his roots); I take the dust as a symbol for a dearth of love given that water repeatedly stands in for love and longing. It’s also a reference to Adam from the Bible being made of the earth. I think his mouth being mentioned in particular references his usual ability to talk his way out of scrutiny and concern or hold his own in arguments, but in the trailer park, his words don’t work as weapons.

“Adam had to put together the mechanics of breathing, of opening his eyes, of breathing again.” A bit of a symbolic rebirth moment, coming back to life. Similar sentiment: “a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival.” My original notes for this chapter said, “I do think this could have been revised though- ‘breathing’ is repeated but not rhythmically or frequently enough (in my opinion) to actually simulate the act of deliberately inhaling and exhaling to self-regulate.” But as I’m re-reading, I understand the choice better. It emphasizes that to live, you must breathe, and breathe again, (and this is relentless), which in turn emphasizes the labor Adam puts in to take yet another breath, to keep going (but the effort to breathe is so great that it’s impossible to consider anything past this breath and the next). Maybe it’s not meant to be a cycle but a Sisyphean climb. Adam has to choose his path forward over and over again.

In Adam’s head: “Just go, Ronan.” He thinks this as he’s rising to his feet after his head hits the railing and sees Ronan’s brake lights go on. The light (Adam indirectly associates Ronan with light multiple times in the text) should be a symbol of hope, but Adam is both too proud and too ashamed to want to hope/accept Ronan stepping in on his behalf. Is this the first time someone not-Parrish has observed the abuse first hand and not just lingering evidence of it? Ronan becoming a direct witness is a line they can’t uncross, a truth Ronan can’t un-know.

“’You’re not playing that game!’ Robert Parrish snapped. ‘I’m not going to stop talking about this just because you threw yourself on the ground. I know when you’re faking, Adam. I’m not a fool. I can’t believe you’d make this kind of money and throw it away on that damn school! All of those times you’ve heard us talking about the power bill, the phone?’” There’s just so much awful here- the victim blaming, the immediate trivialization of Adam’s injury, the devaluation of Adam’s education and opportunity for freedom, and the guilt-tripping over financial burdens a child shouldn’t have to cover, the implication that Adam is running some sort of con, etc.

“His father was far from done. Adam could see it in the way he pushed off his feet with every step down the stairs, from the coil in his body. Adam drew his elbows into his body, ducking his head, willing his ears to clear. What he needed to do was put himself in his father’s head, to imagine what he had to say to defuse this situation.” Keen observation of body language, pattern recognition, (and conscious use of empathy – understanding his father’s thoughts to protect himself). We see these behaviors from Adam in a variety of contexts outside his household; his survival tactics have become ingrained, and while they keep him safe and probably make him a better student too, what is the cost? Exhaustion, mistrust, hypervigilance, repression, isolation. Defusing the situation is what Gansey references back in chapter 7- Adam keeping things quiet.

“But he couldn’t think. His thoughts crashed explosively across the dirt in front of him, in time with the rhythm of his heart. His left ear screamed at him. It was so hot that it felt wet.” Re: previous discussion of mind/body duality, dissociation, etc. his thoughts feeling like they’re outside his body in a dynamic/describable way, the distinction between his ear and himself and the pain transmitted between them, etc. An inability to think as a critical loss given his reliance on his perceptive and intelligent nature.

“Grabbing Adam’s collar, he pulled his son up, as easy as he’d lift a dog. Adam stood, but only just. The ground was sliding away from him, and he stumbled. He had to struggle to find the words again; something was fractured inside him.” In this instant, Adam’s body is at the mercy of his father. This is from where his desperate drive for autonomy comes. Gansey fears that something essential in Adam will break- I’d posit that Gansey fears Adam’s inherent goodness or happiness or youth or curiosity or humor will be trampled beyond help; Adam’s fear of something breaking is more along the lines of his self-assumed potential to be violently angry/a threat to others being unleashed, as if his ability to choose to be good will shatter. Dog/collar – what does this evoke? Adam often laments his upbringing through metaphors about animal behavior (he feels cursed by both nurture and nature. I think this observation is in conversation with my earlier questions about Adam’s thoughts on fate). The ground slides away- the foundation of the world moves (much like the earthquake when he sacrifices himself in Cabeswater); the moment is unstable and unsafe; Adam is unsupported. Struggling for words is unusual for sharp-tongued Adam, but he’s too threatened to think as he usually does.

“’To do this,’ Ronan Lynch snarled, smashing his fist into the side of Robert Parrish’s face.” Reading about Ronan swinging at Declan from Gansey’s POV (nooooo) versus Ronan decking Adam’s dad (YES). I get the feeling that Ronan has been waiting for an excuse to do this for a rather long time. A core aspect of Ronan’s character is not hesitating to cause some damage for a cause in which he believes (especially in TD3).

“Beyond him, the BMW sat, the driver’s side door hanging open, headlights illuminating clouds of dust in the darkness.” Ronan (the BMW) being a source of light in a field of dust, taken with Adam finding the light switch in a previous chapter (29) only once Ronan appears -> Ronan as a source of light (probably more accurate to say source of energy) in Adam’s life.

“Out of his right ear, Adam heard his mother screaming at them to stop. She was holding the phone, waving the phone at Ronan like that would make him stop. There was only one person who could stop Ronan, though, and Adam’s mother didn’t have that number.” Adam’s mother has been a silent bystander while Adam’s dad screams and berates and hits Adam, letting him fall and blaming him for “theatrics,” but as soon as Ronan steps in, she yells for the violence to end. Gansey helps mediate the fight in Nino’s parking lot (TRB, 7)- but Gansey (i.e. Ronan’s impulse control) is not here. The bit about Adam’s mother futilely waving the phone of all things at Ronan is so fitting- she’s found the person perhaps most scornful of phones and telephonic communication on earth.

“Get up, Adam. He was on his hands and knees. The sky looked the same as the ground. He felt fundamentally broken. He couldn’t stand. He could only watch his friend and his father grappling a few feet away. He was eyes without a body.” without a body: dissociation from the current pain and overwhelm; foreshadowing to sacrificing his eyes (and hands) to Cabeswater. The empty, unreal sensation of incredulous “how can this actually be happening” is terrible, and he feels it here. (The sky mirroring the ground reminds me of one of my favorite concepts, probably because of the tomb/shroud quote from the Les Mis chapter about the drowning man; the motif is best summarized as “as above, so below”, which is particularly fitting for the Magician.). I can’t help but think of the sky and the ground as mirrors, reflecting one another in perpetuum like Neeve’s in the Fox Way attic, between which Persephone’s soul gets lost from her body. In “my” tv adaptation (or any visual adaptation really) I’d have Adam’s posture on the ground here (before he gets onto his knees) be the same as Persephone’s on the attic floor when she dies scrying. The fight proceeds without Adam; he has lost a say in his narrative for the time being.

“It was all just noise. What Adam needed was to be able to stand, to walk, to think, and then he could stop Ronan before something awful happened.” The cops show up incredibly quickly here, unless the fight is particularly long and/or Adam’s sense of passing time is warped. “What Adam needs” is a recurring and often tense theme in his character arc, and as usual, his needs are linked to a drive for autonomy, capability, and independent action. We get evidence of Ronan and Adam’s developing, mutual, and unspoken care for each other- the instinct to protect the other, often at the expense of their own wellbeing. Adam, while he’s already gravely injured and unbalanced, worries about something awful happening- but something awful HAS happened, has been happening. I’ll go on a bit of a tangent here because “it was all just noise” that Adam wants to filter out reminds me of things like signal to noise ratio, electrical impulses and synapses, electricity and ley lines, and how once Adam becomes the magician, he learns to scry intentionally (metaphor- healing from, or at least understanding, dissociation) and to rewire the ley line (metaphor- rewiring his brain as he heals, eventually distinguishing Cabeswater from his father, and accepts the necessity of connecting with others to do so/accepting the dual risk and reward of love, connection, magic, etc. which are double-edged swords in this context). I’m jumping ahead here, but I think Adam’s awareness of the way in which he takes in data from his environment, synthesizes a response, and acts accordingly is always relevant. Ever the scientist and all that.

“This can’t happen. He can’t go to jail because of me.” This is one of Adam’s sacrifices – pressing charges and losing his home/a say in how and when he leaves the trailer, all to keep Ronan out of jail (and expulsion, and Declan-induced eviction from Monmouth, and self-destruction, et cetera). In some ways, this is The Big Sacrifice of the book (and the bargain with Cabeswater at the climax gives an additional magical and metaphorical layer of commentary? discussion? on how and why Adam makes sacrifices and the consequences that arise from them). There are a lot of similarities between the sacrifices. I haven’t read the latter chapter in a little while, but from memory: “he was eyes without a body” links to “I will be your hands, I will be your eyes,” both of which play into the overarching theme of Adam’s fight for bodily autonomy, dissociation and eventual reintegration of body and mind (BLLB I am alive because I bleed chapter is crucial to this), a focus on his senses and how they become unreliable as he processes the events of the first book, etc. The foundations of Adam’s world figuratively (first sacrifice) and literally (second sacrifice, with the earthquake/stampede) shift beneath his feet. In the center of the pentagram, there is no sound at all. These vestibular and auditory effects of the magical sacrifice emulate detail from the mundane counterpart, which sets up the narrative about Adam learning to distinguish between the two (Cabeswater is not the boss of you, etc.). There’s also the parallel intervention of Ronan/Cabeswater on the behalf of Adam’s safety that forces him to make decisions/confront the consequences, even though Ronan intervening catalyzes Adam’s sacrifice of his pride, autonomy, and home and Cabeswater intervenes against Whelk after Adam sacrifices himself to the forest…much to chew on here. Mirroring experiences, perhaps. I’ll also say that one thing I really appreciate in TRC is that the metaphors don’t obscure the real life experiences (like you pointed out, Adam dissociates because of his magical connection/sacrifice to Cabeswater, but also as he copes with his father’s abuse, so the metaphor enriches and further discusses rather than sanitize the effects of the abuse; another example of this is Ronan’s dreaming, at least in TDT, doesn’t supplant him being gay and the associated identity, isolation, exploration, etc. experiences- the magical counterpart to the real experience is additive, not obfuscating or censoring. [I say at least in TDT because in TD3 I think the dreaming takes on additional metaphorical meaning such as chronic illness, generational trauma, amongst other things).

“He knew he looked drunk. He needed to get himself together. Only this afternoon he’d touched Blue’s face. It had felt like anything was possible, like the world soared out in front of him. He tried to channel that sensation, but it felt apocryphal.” Concern with outward appearance- his injury is internal, so there’s no way for the cops to believe him without his or Ronan’s explanation. The assumed concussion temporarily robs Adam of his resources- clear headedness, analytical skills, etc. “He tried to channel that sensation, but it felt apocryphal” is such a painful and effective way to describe someone grasping for hope and having it slip through their fingers. Adam, whose faith is “imperfect” to start with, is further challenged here. I always think of the word “apocryphal” when I think of this chapter. The infinite (the world soaring out in front of him) previously gave him a sense of optimism, but in this chapter, the infinite mirrors (ground and sky) trap and dwarf him. Blue’s face (which is to say connection with Blue) felt like potential. I think you could interpret this chapter as the beginning of the end for Blue and Adam’s romantic relationship- the attraction and care for one another persists, but there’s a distinct shift in their interactions after this chapter that disconnects them in a way they don’t resolve until after they break up.

Adam replaying what his mother has told him previously to keep the abuse quiet: “Don’t say anything, Adam. Tell him you fell down. It really was a little your fault, wasn’t it? We’ll deal with it as a family.” Encouraging him to keep secrets, to lie, to blame himself, to believe in the guise of a family his parents hide behind (he’s ostracized in his own home for acting “against the good of the family”). This rhetoric from his mother gets woven into his own internal monologue.

“If Adam turned his father in, everything crashed down around him. If Adam turned him in, his mother would never forgive him. If Adam turned him in, he could never come home again.” These statements are written like hypotheses. If _, then _. Scientific. Even though she’s watched him endure so much pain and violence and has done nothing to help him, he grapples with the guilt of leaving behind his mother. This moment is a crucial turning point for Adam, when he’s standing at the crossroads of two of the existing paths described in TRB chapter 15 at his reading. It’s one of several explanations of his hesitation to live somewhere safer, of why the more arduous and painful way of doing things is in some ways easier for him.

“Adam couldn’t move in with Gansey. He had done so much to make sure that when he moved out, it would be on his own terms. Not Robert Parrish’s. Not Richard Gansey’s. On Adam Parrish’s terms, or not at all.” Full names invite the reader to consider [confront?] these characters as complete and distinguishable entities -> what defines each character/what is intrinsic to each?, how can you distinguish their own goals and personal ethos? If Adam succeeds in the world, he can claim all credit. If he fails, he resigns himself to shoulder the blame alone without the messy implications of shared culpability. He doesn’t see anything as worth doing if he can’t do it independently in the way he’s meticulously determined to be optimal, in the way that keeps his pride most intact.

“Adam touched his left ear. The skin was hot and painful, and without his hearing to tell him when his finger was close to his ear cavity, his touch felt imaginary. The whine in the ear had subsided and now there was … nothing. There was nothing at all.” The loss of his hearing is representative of greater loss- of literal (vestibular) and figurative balance (oh by the way do you know what requires good balance…riding a bike), of the ability to observe the world in the precise way in which he observed it before, the curse of an invisible injury he must explain by telling rather than showing as well as the unquantifiable psychological impact of surviving abuse, etc. Adam feels that he has nothing after losing not just half of his hearing but his home, even if said home is dangerous, the opposite of a sanctuary. He ends up at St. Agnes, which he thinks of as “Adam Parrish’s nothing,” something visually unimpressive but valuable in the way that it is his alone, untainted by the authority of others. I’m thinking about “Gansey. That’s all there is.” versus “There was nothing at all.” and how their experiences are so heavily shaped by their families and the associated expectations based on their upbringings and how they worry that others perceive them as their origins rather than their actions. “His touch felt imaginary” echoes the sentiment of Blue’s touch feeling apocryphal; the abuse disconnects Adam from others and from himself.

“Ronan was defending me.” Adam’s mouth was dry as the dirt around them. The officer’s expression focused on him as he went on. “From my father. All this … is from him. My face and my …” A couple observations: Adam breaking his “keeping things quiet” habit to the cops; Ronan has already begun to make him loud. It might just be a function of his injured state but I think Adam referring to Ronan as Ronan, as if anyone would automatically know his name, posits Ronan as some essential figure in Adam’s life (although to be completely fair there are few enough people in this scene to make it obvious to whom Adam’s referring- but I do think the word choice is deliberate, especially since he doesn’t use Lynch, which to an outsider might imply more distance between them). The dirt/dust motif returns as he thinks of his father/his origins; his dry mouth indicates the strain of making this sacrificial confession. And finally, the double entendre of “All this.. is from him. My face and my…” to mean the immediate state of Adam’s injuries but also his pervasive concern that he has inherited his father’s violence and cruelty. We know that Adam resembles his mother more (at least facially), but these books are about mirrors (and Adam looks into them frequently, literally and figuratively), and he’s most concerned about seeing his father looking back at him.

“His mother was staring at him. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her and say it. Even with his eyes closed, he felt like he was falling, like the horizon pitched, like his head tilted. Adam had the sick feeling that his father had managed to knock something crucial askew. And then he said what he couldn’t say before. He asked, ‘Can I … can I press charges?’” To make this decision is to completely disrupt his carefully planned life; he’s falling into a version of his life he wasn’t prepared to live in yet. Adam’s fear about being permanently altered echoes Gansey’s fears about Adam. I think, on a less central note, his view of Ronan is also knocked askew after this incident (him using violence on behalf of someone other than himself). I’ve been musing on the decision to mention his mother one last time at the end of the chapter, and I think it’s to emphasize the complexity of Adam’s decision (and that he’s considering the repercussions of leaving his mother alone in the trailer with Robert. I think the fact that she doesn’t have a canon first name indicates that she also lacks power and autonomy in the household, or will especially lack such things once Adam leaves).

I think it’s significant that we never see inside the Parrish house- the violence we see on page happens outside. The audacity of Adam’s father to yell at him and assault him on their front steps for anyone to see is…really something. Even in his own POV chapters, which are quite introspective and descriptive, Adam doesn’t let us in to the extent of his life at home (from a meta standpoint, this makes sense- it’s just as effective and less exploitative to characterize the extent and impact of abuse through Adam’s self-image and relationships and behaviors rather than saturating the text with repetitive, gratuitous, and graphic sequences of abuse). And while I’m dancing around the subject of private vs public spheres, I am very interested in discussing Adam in terms of unheimlich/the uncanny and I’m hesitant to do so because so much of it will come from Freud’s essay on the uncanny and with that comes all sorts of cans of worms but there’s something about the domestic vs public spheres and in the home and out of the home (stemming from the etymology of heimlich and unheimlich) and homelessness and Adam’s uncanniness and strangeness (both as in odd and as in foreign/estranged). Freud’s essay even talks about the loss of eyes as a castration metaphor in a different work that I’m forgetting at the moment, but even if we exchange castration for loss of autonomy (which might be a misinterpretation of the text but I’m still percolating), it works so well with I will be your eyes/the demon taking over Adam’s eyes/his visions that begin in TDT chapter 8/the blindfold on Adam and the figure on the two of swords and eight of swords cards, etc. (A lot of associated themes work for Ronan too- the intentional use of the word strange at the beginning of The Dream Thieves and the Lynch brothers’ estrangement from the Barns and Ronan dreaming about going home and him existing of and between two worlds and how these two uncanny and strange characters find themselves in these weird, isolating social valleys and seek a sense of home with from other…) anyway this is hopefully an actual essay I will write someday, but it will require a good amount of reading outside the series.

I did a final read-through of the chapter after I revised my notes to see if I missed anything (and of course I did) and I did want to highlight the switch from “his father” to “Parrish” when Adam describes the brawl that ensues when Ronan hits his dad, which I think serves the purpose reminding us how Adam separates himself from violence as a dissociative coping mechanism, how Ronan’s intervention grants Adam some distance from the situation, etc. but also how Adam views the Parrish name- violent, on the ground, in the dust. I also forgot to consider the purpose of flashing back to Gansey right before Adam makes his sacrifice (to press charges, to keep Ronan out of jail): You won’t leave because of your pride? We’re given a clear example of the circumstances necessary for Adam to give up said pride (it would be reductive but not incorrect to say the circumstances = Ronan).

#rchl #trc #as always i am so open to discussing trc/td3 so please come chat if you want to share your analysis too #also to the very nice person who sent an anon about the mask dream i saw it and i am intending to draft something over the next few days #the raven boys #the raven cycle #adam parrish #ronan lynch

59 notes · View notes

atozofsoftwareengineering · 10 months

Text

Unleashing the Power of AWS Lambda: Features, Benefits, and Practical Examples

Hey friends, check out this informative blog on the power of AWS Lambda! 🚀 Learn about its event-driven architecture, automatic scaling, and practical examples. #AWSLambda #ServerlessComputing #CloudComputing #ApplicationDevelopment

Introduction In today’s digital era, scalability, flexibility, and cost-effectiveness are paramount for businesses to thrive. AWS Lambda, a serverless compute service provided by Amazon Web Services (AWS), has emerged as a game-changer in the world of cloud computing. In this comprehensive blog, we will delve deep into AWS Lambda’s features, explore its numerous benefits, and provide practical…

View On WordPress

#amazon web services #Application development #automatic scaling #AWS Lambda #chatbots #cost-effective #event-driven architecture #flexible applications #image processing #infrastructure management #operational overhead #programming languages #real-time data analysis #scalable applications #scheduled tasks #server management #serverless compute service #time to market

4 notes · View notes

ourjobagency · 8 months

Text

This blog delves into the fascinating journey of how Confluent and AWS are contributing to the identification of cheating players, ensuring a level playing field for all.

#Cheat player identification #Event-driven architecture #Cloud computing #Cheating detection #Machine learning

1 note · View note

dxstopiaa · 1 year

Text

Celestial Blessing..

Request: How would the liyue characters react to their s/o receiving a vision! Vision type and why.. very plot heavy.

This is quite a long fic, hence why it took me long to write it! Please i would love feedback if you want to give some, re-blogs appreciated!

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Beidou ( I will release another part with Yelan and Ningguang within!)

Warnings: Injuries, may be a little graphic. Mentions of forced marriage and parental issues (Beidou’s). This is from my interpretation of how visions are received and may not be canon, will vary on the vision!

Terms you may not of heard of… Kwoon- A training hall for chinese martial arts, liyue is quite obviously inspired by china!

Zhongli

Geo- Immovable will and determination, hardworking and fixated.

•Being a lead martial artist and founder of your rather large kwoon meant that you required not only strength but incredible knowledge of the arts and weaponry. Which you thought you fulfilled, if your lover’s opinion did not seem convincing enough. You continued with your family’s legacy and you wore your last name with utmost pride.

•Zhongli and yourself have been a couple for just nearly two years. The opening of your training hall was a joint effort between the both of you, zhongli often printing and scripting the agreement and safety contracts, terms and conditions along with all other formalities whilst you planned the architecture of your kwoon, along with the uniform you required your students to wear, ensuring their comfort was your utmost priority. About a month before the event, Zhongli suggested the idea of opening your training hall on your anniversary.

•‘My love, how do you like the idea of celebrating two ceremonies at once?’ Of course, his cryptic wording left you confused, however the more he explained his point, the more you liked it, clasping your arms around his waist and cherishing his warm loving embrace as he hugged you back, caressing your hair and peppering gentle kisses upon your forehead and cheeks.

•When the day arrived, you found yourself in a rather restless state of perfectionism, darting from place to place at the location and ensuring everything was errorless. Speech stand? Zhongli’s handling it. Refreshments? Upon the banquet table to the right. Decorations and banners? Prepared previously, am i forgetting something?

• The only person who could inflict serenity upon you was your husband himself, lightheartedly reprimanding you to remain tranquil and to take better care of yourself whilst fondling your temporarily calloused hands, guiding you to the stage provided by Yun-Han Opera Troupe.

• Delivering your speech was far from difficult with the support Zhongli gave you, constant reassurance allowed you to deliver it to a flawless standard. Many from the crowd cheered and encouraged you on, strings of melodic praises derived from their kind admiration-driven hearts. Your dearest’s sincere wistful smile accompanied by your gleaming irises was a sight to behold.

• Zhongli may be perceived as forgetful, yet he would never omit to anything related to you, his primary priority. Lightly latching onto your wrist, he whisked you away into a nearby stairwell, to which he deemed would provide all the privacy he wanted. You stared up at him in mild mystification, about to part your lips to question his bizzare actions yet you were stopped with one of his fingers gently upon your mouth, gesturing you to wait.

• From behind his lean form, he presented to you an intricate puzzle, a catalyst of sorts, complex rings of jade orbiting the main section of it, while it rotated and spun slowly in the breeze. Saying you were awestruck was a severe understatement, your eyes sparkled with infatuation at both the weapon and the handsome expression on your husband’s face.

• ‘My dearest, put your palms out before me.’ He requested. You obeyed his instructions, gradually opening your hands from the tight clasp they were in formerly. Zhongli placed the treasure in your hands, and watched how it’s spinning motion significantly increased until it was a blur, glowing in its glory just as cor lapis would do in the moonlight. ‘I knew you were the one the moment i laid my eyes on you, love.’ A burning sensation coursed through your palms, a surreal type of feeling you could not explain in words. There before you, was a golden vision.

• A geo vision. Shining and enlightening the dim alleyway, exactly matching the resplendent hue of Rex Lapis’ pupils, which now was reflected in you. The puzzle levitating to your side, metaphorically representing a promise of protection from the Lord of Geo himself, a faithful weapon. The largest of smirks plastered on your darling’s face, which you couldn’t help but cry delighted sobs into the nape of his neck.

Xiao

Pyro- A burning, scalding passion, a fierce debate between the arts and fitting within society.

• Xiao first met you a year ago, battling and training against two ruin guards and a ruin hunter, casting an abundance of seals and spells at your disposal, trapping the entities and healing the damaged ley line attracting all of them. For a mortal, he was incredibly impressed, who gave you these adepti spells and casts? Xiao questioned himself, continuing to watch you, who was occupied with aiming arrows at numerous weak points, from a distance.

• He instantaneously materialised infront of the adeptus’ abode, unequipping his luminescent polearm before approaching the edge of the cliff, glancing around for a specific white crane, whom he found in the distance and began to approach.

•’General Alatus, is there something you may need? Why am i graced with your presence?’ Cloud retainer spoke, her formal, transcendent voice awaiting for an answer, azure sky-like wings glowing and rustling against her pure bodice of feathers. ‘Not particularly important, but i’ve noticed a young mortal utilising the arts of the adepti.’

•Cloud retainer followed his query with curt nod, elaborating on how you were her newest follower, a protector of the history of liyue and needed means to protect yourself with such valuable knowledge. Xiao’s misjudgement of you lead to him believing you were a human, when in fact, you were the preserver of Juyeun Karst. Blood of the Adepti coursed through your veins, a valuable life form not to be undervalued.

•From then on, you began to notice a omnipresent individual beside your master, who was willing to aid you with combat training when not protecting Liyue and continuing the legacy of the yakshas. You valued his help, expressing how you felt honoured and how this would boost your progress. What you may not have took note of was the short-lived smile which was present upon his lips, heart warming at the sincere praise.

• As your andragogy continued, so did your contact with your now lover. His unexpected gentleness and calmness brought you both closer and let him alleviate the state painstaking loneliness. He assisted you with combat while you educated him on humane emotions and social ques, which compelled him to focus on his own, the one fluttering in his heart.

•Months later, with your established relationship still flourishing, you found your skills with the bow has dramatically increased, utilising other weapons was a suggestion of Xiao’s, one which you felt uncomfortable to at first, yet decided it would be preferable to increase mastery. According to cloud retainer, you have reached peak performance, the ability to destroy large mechanical anomalies in less than minutes, and to seal ancient threats found spiralling in instability underground.

• The time for your final test has arrived. Careful planning and consideration lead you outside the once sealed domain of Morax’s Creation, Azhdaha. A fierce dragon with ruby bloodlusted vision, a entity with such a reputation that the most seasoned fighters shivered at the mere mention of. Why put you up against such an opponent, surely it would be dangerous? Well, risk is the only lead to development.

•Xiao’s calamitous aura was sensed by the reptilian creature from the moment he entered. The adeptus with such a disastrous, protective nature followed by a determined and ambitious one, gently grasping onto your wrist as if he was afraid regarding your safety, to which he was.

•’Such a powerful, dreading emanation, who dares enters my domain?’ Azhdaha thundered, remaining in his spot, demanding an immediate answer. Xiao knew already that this was one of the leviathan’s tactics, the use of threats to force one’s opponent into submission, even before the duel commenced.

•‘Your intimidation will not work on me, i have already previously discussed the conditions of this spar. If any terms shall be broken, you would wish a fate decided by Morax, rather than with me.’ Alatus retaliated, before turning to you and placing his hand onto your shoulder and the other below your chin, caressing your skin and though he did not speak, his message was clear. ‘If anything goes wrong, do not restrain from calling for me.’

• ‘Begin.’ He declared, and with that, Azhdaha spent no time at all breaking his temporary seals, and emitting a outcry of war and destruction. You swiftly reached for your bow, analysing the dragon’s every move, determining when to use which seals and where.

•A thunderous wave of energy oscillated across the ground, followed by a large leap into the air from you, aiming precisely for the geo insignia upon its chest. The arrows fired at incredible speed, piercing through the tough flesh of the creature, forcing a strained howl of anger from Azhdaha. It seemed it’s fury was released in outbursts of explosive icicles derived from its cryo infusion, targeted directly at you. Whilst you managed to avoid the first wave, the second batch took you by surprise.

•The biting, glacial blades stunned your movement, sending you plummeting into the soil beneath yourself, a cry of affliction pulled from your throat, leaving you immobile and wounded momentarily as the dragon approached you. Your admirer clenched so tightly onto his jaded spear that it was struggling to remain intact in one piece, you had previously assured him that if you really required his assistance, you would ask, which compelled him to stay put.

• Strings of vulgar curses left your mouth, summoning a catalyst to speed up your recovery before the entity reached you, prompting you to mount yourself upright. Once again, unsheathing your weapon. From what you could tell, Azhdaha seemed too consumed with his foul move and revenge that he ignored his unprotected limbs, revealing a chance almost too well timed to be real.

•Fuelled by the years of practice and sparring, you chanted a incantation before charging towards him at full agility. Behind your form was a grand seal, expeditiously approaching Azhdaha. A final gesture of your hand set the domain up into chaos.

• A monumental vermillion fulmination descended to the ground and emitted a force so great you lost your footing, stabbing an arrow to the ground to prevent being blown away. A harsh blood-curdling roar sounded, signifying the downfall of your opponent.

•Fog occupied the atmosphere, a maze of unpredictability and mystery. A minuscule faint glow guided you to the centre like a lighthouse to a boat lost at sea. The closer you got, the more luminous the crimson glow became. Kneeling down, You clutched the embellishment tightly within your hands. A blessing from the gods, an achievement so noticeable, your heart swelling with pride.

•A radiating pyro vision was cradled in your arms. Your form now could be seen by Xiao, who rapidly crouched beside you, he held your jaw, ensuring you looked up at him. Your lover had the warmest grin you had ever seen grace his face, to which you immediately hugged him. A soft gasp was heard from him, yet no complaints..

Beidou

Anemo- The loss of those dearest to you for personal freedom and progression, individuality.

• Many who walked this land of liyue gazed at you, hearts dropping in sheer jealously. A rich socialite was what you were to these people, nothing else. A heartless mortal with a mind set on business and riches. In fact, you were quite the opposite, but why does it matter? Everything happens behind closed shutters and shadowy doors.

•Authoritative and superior were your parents, admired by all, associates with each end of Liyue’s exquisite corporations, right and left. Unbeknownst to citizenry, cynical and inconsiderate were their true faces. Many would consider you privileged, you’d call yourself unfaithful and hopeless, projections of your parent’s language inculcated into your brain.

• ‘We will not stand for such behaviour, do not dare tarnish our reputation with such problematic requests.’ They scolded, persuading you to do what they asked of you. Hopping from ‘buisness meetings’ when infact, they were arranged proposals.

•It just so happened that today was one of those events. Donning exquisite attire and elegance, much to your disliking. Gracefully seated within the outside quarter of Xinyue Kiosk, timorously searching the pedestrians below you for your 3rd proposal.

•An older man appeared, a crooked grin plastered on his faintly wrinkled profile, eyebrows furrowed in interest before situating right next to you. The sudden approach and confidence of this man made your ailing stomach churn even more, a nauseous feeling emerging from your throat. ‘So, I assume your parents have already introduced me as your..suitor?’ There was that feeling again, utter disgust, your windpipe seemed as if a pair of hands constricted your breathing, scrambling for an answer.

•Choking out a meek ‘excuse me, sir’ was enough of an excuse to hurry down the steps and through the back alley, avoiding the gaze of citizens from possibly questioning you. Gaining momentum, you sped down the harbour behind stalls as cautiously as one could in such regal clothing.

•One occurrence you initially thought was a mistake turned out to be your saviour. You collided straight into another person, gasping as you hit their perceived chest, spewing apologies profusely. Just as you were to begin escaping into the opposite direction, a hand grasped onto your wrist, pulling you back towards whoever gently yet firmly. You focused onto her appearance.

• ‘Hey! Where are you going? I haven’t…’ Her deep voice and rich accent trailing off. A brunette woman with concerned, fuchsia eyes, the other covered with a scarlet eyepatch. Her eyebrow raised with realisation, gazing down at you closely, watching the way your own pupils dilated in horror, frantically scattering and searching the surroundings but why? Oh…

•Her expression immediately softened, mouth slightly ajar, attempting to recollect her thoughts. Weren’t you the reputable, prestigious child of Liyue’s most affluent buisness partners? What were you doing in a place like this, even more so with such a petrified expression?

•’Calm down sweetheart, come with me for a bit..You seem too uneasy.’ Her soft, amiable tone soothing your racing heart, a gradual calming effect induced onto you. She surveyed the harbour, deciding where you take you as she held your quivering hand and drew circles onto them, her long nails pleasantly tracing patterns which pacified you.

•She sheltered and handled you as if you were a treasure to a pirate, precious and careful. Ultimately choosing to take you aboard the Crux, which was currently empty due to her crew being occupied with business affairs. Every small considerate smile she gave you made your heart flutter, faint shades of blush dusting your complexion.

•Removing you from publicity, she guided you to her deck and to her cabin. Within it laid a medium sized bed, adorned with soft bedsheets and pillows, a desk with an abundance of organised stamped papers in stacks, with a few clothing racks and luscious carpet. She gestured you to rest upon the bed, putting a pillow under your head, as you laid down, ignoring your polite protests. She momentarily left the room.

•What was this feeling? Such warmth and peace, contrasted with the flittering of your pulse. A quiet squeak of the door and sound of rushed heels against the wooden deck alerted you and pulled you from your thoughts. You knew her as Captain Beidou, partly from associations she had with your parents and others from her appearance, fitting the strong figure of a mighty woman with a carefree benevolent heart.

•’ Believe it or not, dear, i do know who you may be and i have deduced what kind of situation you are caught up in.. yeah, not a pleasant one yet i still hope you can open up to me? Please?’ Beidou comforted, placing her palm on your forehead, sweeping the strands of stray hair to the side. You emitted a small sigh, gradually giving such details, you could trust her. Who wouldn’t?

•’I do not want to cause additional issues, plus your parents know me quite well, why don’t i drop you off to your estate, hmm?’ The captain suggested, awaiting a response. Regardless of how you arrived, you would be in dire trouble. You uttered a small agreement, lifting yourself from the bed. ‘I’ll deal with him, don’t worry.’

•A arm latched onto your own, encasing you in a protective stance, she walked you back, stopping occasionally to check up on you. You may not of known so, but your exhaustion worried her deeply. Once you reached your estate, the guards situated outside, looking rather exhausted and latching onto their polearms for support, swiftly corrected their posture and bombarded you with questions. Beidou intercepted their questions with a answer of her own. ‘She was not feeling well, I am here to bring her back to her parents.’ She resonated, rubbing her index finger along your cheek affectionately, a curt nod to the guards before spinning on her heel and retreating back to the harbour.

•Days of lying in complete rest at home told you that Beidou’s lie deceived your parents perfectly, for once they treated you with adequate care as a person, not a utility. You missed her dearly, yearning for her comfort the longer you stayed at home.

•You were interrupted one morning by a guard briskly walking into your room to leave a letter in your hands. ‘I’m doing you a huge favour, please don’t mess this opportunity up.’ was all he said, shutting the door behind him. Sliding your fingers underneath the envelope to reveal the letter. The handwriting was gorgeous, professionally cursive and legible.

•’ The Crux will depart at midnight, i hope to see you aboard it, with me. This situation you are in clearly is not what you desire, i can help you build a new life elsewhere.’ Stunned was what you felt now. A new life? This could solve all your issues, you could be away from your parents, away from your troubles and finally be free.

• Dusk had fallen upon Liyue, luminescent lanterns and burning stars lit up the night, guiding and coaxing those to admire its beauty. You wore your combat uniform, the golden trimmed sleeves that flared matched the torso and bottom half. You sneaked out of the room, heading directly to the unarmed museum of your estate. Inching the door open and peering in, the coast was empty of guards, you slipped in through the doors and glanced around.

•Assortments of family heirlooms, categorised in a organised order. You knew exactly where to go, straight towards the weapons, which you took your time admiring, elegant catalysts, worn yet precious swords and the sharpest polearms. Weapons were essential, especially these, they could have multiple uses, if you were short on mora you could even sell them. You latched your fingers around the smooth lapis polearm, tracing the intricate patterns around it, lifting it from the wooden stand and ultimately deciding this would be what you took. Lightweight yet deadly, a perfect combination.

•You swiftly escaped through the window to your right, dropping down onto the street, bolting towards the docks with the night concealing any traces you left. You reached the familiar ship, using the ladder to hoist yourself up into it, catching your breath and looking around for Beidou. A few calls of her name and she noticed your presence, quickly pacing towards you, swinging her arm around your neck.

• A glad smirk occupying her features, grasping your hand and bringing you up onto the higher level of the deck. She gestured you to sit on the floor with her under the makeshift canopy, brushing your hair with her fingers and fluttering a gentle kiss on your nose.

•The grand cruise abruptly lifted its anchors, leaving the docks and sailing further away. You turned back to her, eyes tearful and wrapping your arms around her neck. You allowed your tears to flow, cascading your face and when you left Beidou’s hold, onto your hands as you bowed your head with a solemn smile.

• Your final tear dropped into the palm of your hands, followed by an intense gust of wind, glancing up you saw a firefly, it’s verdant trail descending to engulf it’s surroundings with blinding light. It circled your hands and eventually took its own concluding flicker, a blazing teal luminosity burning up, inducing a shock of ignition through your nerves, eyes glowing a deep turquoise. When you gained your sight back, you turned to your lap.

•There was a Vision, placed into your hands by the God of Freedom, in all its glory. Caressing the smooth glass-like orb, bringing it up to your ear, rushing gales heard within the distance, laughs of your lover and quiet sobs belonging to you. A pair of hands encased your face, drying away the remnants of teardrops.

139 notes · View notes