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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

It was his father.

Of course.

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

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drwcn · 3 years

Text

NEW!

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 11 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]

Lan Wangji knew his Uncle and the imperial court and the elders of the royal family were never going to be okay with him making Wei Wuxian one of his concubines. The servant status is one thing, but that's not the crux of the issue. The issue is that there's already a rumour circulating about how WWX is a wily fox whose sole purpose in life is to seduce and befuddle the prince. Xue Yang: quite a reputation you've cultivated for yourself. WWX: *kuzo's meme*.........ah yes, everything is all coming together now.

Lan Wangji is a smart boy though. He knows how to get what he wants. As Wei Ying inched towards full recovery from his whipping, the autumn hunt is upon them.

The autumn hunt in the royal hunts ground was a competition. Anyone invited could compete if they chose to, and of Lan Wangji's household, Jin Ziyan, Luo Qingyang and himself were in attendance. Mianmian, being his concubine and a woman, had two escorts/chaperones accompanying her for propriety, but flashed him dazzling smiles of gratitude upon her horse.

"I'm very grateful, dianxia, for your allowing this indulgence." "Of course," replied Lan Wangji from his saddle. "My Luo-furen should have what she wants." "Dianxia, ce-wangfu." Qin Su approached them and curtsied in proper form. "I wish you all best of luck in the hunt." Then to Mianmian, she said quietly, "Be careful, Qingyang." Jin Ziyan paid the two women no mind, but Lan Wangji saw the hand Qin Su had clandestinely wrapped around one of Mianmian's booted ankles. Oh...well, this is certainly a positive development.

The rest of the noble women not participating in the hunt rested in their tented pavilions, with Meng Yao as their hostess. They drank tea and ate sweets and enjoyed their free time to themselves. Meng Yao noted Wei Wuxian's absence from Jiang Yanli's side, as did several other noble women, but Jiang Yanli only smiled and said, "A-Xian has been living at my father's manor for several years and is an excellent marksman. Dianxia thought it a waste if he were kept from participating."

The truth of the matter is like this: when Wei Wuxian cheated and lied his way into Jiang-fu, he'd told Jiang Fengmian and his family that he'd lived most of his life by the charity of a hunter's family, and so had trained to hunt game in the wild. After the hunter's family died of some infectious illness that plagued the region, Wei Wuxian had supposed made his way into the city and found employment as a shop boy. He couldn't reveal that he'd been trained in martial arts, but there is no need to hide his skill as an archer. At first, it was so he could use archery as a common interest to get close to Jiang Fengmian's son Jiang Cheng, but Wei Wuxian soon realized that it could also be used as a way for Lan Wangji to cultivate further interest.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian stroked the snout of Lan Wangji's beloved ferghana horse and grinned. "You really want me to ride him?" "Mn." "You...won't be mad then, if I win?" Wei Wuxian's grin turned slightly wicked. "If I beat you?" Lan Wangji's brow twitched with interest, "Not at all. That's rather what I'm counting on." "Yeah? And why is that?" "Because while I can claim victory with the sword -" "- Very modest, you." Wei Wuxian teased, grinning, which earned him a subtle little glare. "- amongst my cousins, my marksmanship is not unrivalled. You may have a greater chance of winning with him. Huangxiong promised that whoever wins today's hunt will be granted one wish." A wish? Wei Wuxian mulled over this information. His own mission turned and circled in his mind. If I could but gain access to... ... Of course, Wei Wuxian glanced at the prince and the saw the light in his eyes. Lan Wangji is probably thinking of something entirely different.

And so it was inevitable that went the count of the hunt came in, Wei Wuxian's name was at the top. Lan Qiren's little mustache just about flew off his face the way he scrunched it up in displeasure.

Gentries, nobles, dukes and princes watched with envy and shock as a servant came forth to accept the Emperor's reward.

"Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang leaned close to Jiang Cheng while they watched from the sidelines as Wei Wuxian bowed before the Emperor. "Why do you look so smug?" Jiang Cheng played with the end of an arrow with an air of mock innocence, "I don't know what you're talking about?" Nie Huaisang pulled at the leather of his riding attire in discomfort - this was so not his style - and tsked, "I know you, Jiang-xiong, you're not subtle. What did you do?" "I was the one who told Lan Wangi that Wei Wuxian is an excellent archer when I went to visit Hanguang-fu." Nie Huaisang understood instantly, "Oh....oh I see..." "What? Don't judge me! You know what they did to him. String up like some unruly animal and whipped. I never agreed with my mother's plan to send him along with my sister anyway. Wei Wuxian may be lowborn but..." Jiang Cheng scowled. "He's too good for them. For Lan Wangji. He's clearly not going to do right by Wei Wuxian. I won't stand to see a perfectly good man wasted as some prissy prince's concubine instead of being where he could put his real skills to use." "Shhhhh, ancestors, Jiang-xiong, keep your voice down! Words like that are a great dishonor against bixia, you'll lose your head!" Jiang Cheng shrugged.

Xue Yang *at a later times*: so lemme get this straight, you won the Hunt, and then Lan Xichen asked you what you want as reward - WWX - as a good little servant I said "I want for nothing that wangye and Jiang-zhuzi hasn't already provided me" - XY *rolls his eyes* Right. And then Jiang Wanyin came out of nowhere and said - "陛下，魏婴乃微臣之家生子，是前管家魏长泽的独子，因幼年时父母过世一直遗留市井。上天庇佑，几年前父亲将他巡回。魏婴为人端正淳厚，虽未上过学堂，但头脑机智。陛下也看到了，他弓发出众，是。。。如能加强训练，以后必会为我姑苏所用 - " Bixia, Wei Ying is this subject's home-born servant, the only son of our previous head of staff Wei Changze. Due to the unfortunate passing of his parents in his youth, he has been getting by doing odd jobs in the capital. Heavens be willing, Father was able to find him after these many years and brought him home. Wei Ying is kind and righteous; though never have been taught by scholars, he is sharp of mind. As bixia has seen, he is a great marksmanship, is ... If he could be granted proper training, he would be a great asset for Gusu in the future. - And what a waste it would be if you were left to twindle away within the confines of a harem. I bet Lan Wangji just loved that. The balls on Jiang Wangyin - I do love his style. WWX You're the only one. Jiang-shushu just about had a heart attack when Jiang Cheng dissed Lan Wangji in public. Madam Yu nearly popped a vein too. XY: Yeah well, he's got a point. You may be Jiang Yanli's companion, but you're not Lan Wangji's concubine, you're just a servant with a skill. Honestly why shouldn't they put you to better use than waiting to maybe spread your legs for a prince who might just as easily toss you aside after the newness fades. WWX *slaps him up the head* Rascal! I'm your shixiong. Don't be so rude. Anyways, Lan Zhan, he - he was willing to let me go. I think he loves me you know - XY: He what now - WWX: He said - Lan Wangji came to kneel beside Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin and bowed to his royal brother, "Huangxiong, Wei Ying is the peijia of my Jiang-furen, a servant of my manor. I... I long knew he is an excellent marksman and should have submitted his candidacy for the ranks but -" Lan Wangji looked at him then, eyes huge with something unreadable. "Jiang-xiao-jiangjun is right. Wei Ying is good, his mind is bright. He would be more suited to militia than...than within the walls of the inner court." "Wangye, have you....have you grown tired of Wei Ying -" "Wei Ying, no -" XY: Oh barf. So please tell me you chose to go to bingbu (ministry of war). WWX: Going to bingbu was never the assignment. If yifu wanted me in the ministry of war, I would've infiltrated them from the start. I refused. And it had the intended effect. "No?" Lan Xichen leaned forward curiously. "Joining the ranks will elevate your rank to that of a subject of the imperial government, and if you are truly as skilled and talented as my brother and Jiang-xiao-jiangjun say, you may rise yet to stand in my court as an officer of the imperial military. You will have your own commission, your own manor, marry, have children - all things which will be forbidden to you if you remain as you are now. As you are male, you cannot provide for Hanguang-fu any offspring, and your low-born status has precluded you from the position of consort or even vice-consort. Have you considered your options carefully? " "I understand bixia, and my decision is made. Nothing would please me more than to stay by wangye's side. I regret nothing." XY: >_> And A this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you're increasingly horny for Lan Wangji? WWX: Of course not. Because of Lan Qiren, I couldn't advance in Hanguang-fu. But now that Lan Xichen had given me his royal decree, I am Lan Wangji's sanctioned mianshou. XY: *insert eye emoji* So...y'all fucked? WWX *wistful, thinking about the night he spent at the autumn palace after the hunt* : We did, you pervert. Ya happy now? *WWX sighed* But I know who we are and what I must do. Yifu needs me by Lan Wangji's side, for what reasons I do not yet know. No matter how he and I are now... one day it will

all end. XY: *stares into the camera like he's on the office*

Note: yifu = Wen Ruohan, WWX's adoptive father.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #xue yang #without envy #cql ficlet #corie fics

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lunastwilightblog · 3 years

Text

The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain

I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻

So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys?

Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.

Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe).

When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.

This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.

For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle.

For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).

Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.

So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).

With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.

Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).

So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.

Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.

So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.

They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.

(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).

Anyway. Onto Bella.

So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.

Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).

Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue.

Yet.

Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.

And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.

So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).

Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.

Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.

Anyway.

When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.

And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.

Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.

Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.

This is dangerous.

Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.

We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).

Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan.

Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.

Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).

But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.

Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.

By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.

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sokkastyles · 3 years

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I came here from the Game of Thrones fandom, the “it was just like that back then in ye olden times” excuse was ridiculous there, and it’s especially ridiculous as an excuse to justify something that is clearly framed as NOT justifiable by the show in a fantasy world. As much as ATLA takes inspiration from Asian cultures, it is not a historical show.

But even if we look at what was considered culturally acceptable in the Fire Nation, what Ozai did to Zuko isn’t justifiable. Not that it matters in any case, but what Ozai does is not even reasonable by any rules of agni kais that we might get from what little canon says about it and historical influences that we might use as examples. The fact that we have so little given to us in canon makes the “oh, it was culturally acceptable” thing rather silly at best because we don’t know what was considered culturally acceptable. At worst it’s rather racist to be like “that’s just how their culture is, oh those brutal and primitive nonwhites,” especially when it is specifically established in the series that the roots of Fire Nation culture from which the agni kai originated are NOT the war-mongering military-obsessed values that the FN embraced after Sozin.

Even if we took the agni kai between Zuko and Ozai at face value, there are a number of things about it that immediately make it an unfair fight. Zuko himself tells his father “how can you possibly justify a duel with a child,” and that it was cruel and wrong. Zuko was thirteen years old. And since Zuko specifically mentions his age when he tells Ozai it was wrong, I think we can say that we would not be remiss in imposing modern standards. There’s no evidence that ritualistic duels between children and adults would be considered normal. It may have been accepted because Ozai was the Fire Lord, but I’m sure there were plenty of people, even people who witnessed it, like Iroh, who thought fighting a child was despicable but maybe wouldn’t say anything to go against the Fire Lord.

We do know that an Agni Kai carries spiritual and cultural significance, and we also know from “Winter Solstice” that not all of the Fire Sages, the religious authorities in the Fire Nation, were down with the way Sozin ran things. It is made explicit in the series that Ozai and his ancestors were responsible for creating a spiritual imbalance in the world, so I think it can also be assumed that what we see of the agni kai ritual in the series itself is a twisted version of what it was originally intended to be. The wiki says that before Sozin’s rule, agni kais were rarely fought to the death, but that changed after Sozin’s regime and the emphasis on mercy and compassion being seen as weakness.

In addition to the fact that Zuko was a child when he was challenged by Ozai, I think it also goes without saying that the fact that Ozai is Zuko’s father as well as the Fire Lord means that there is a huge power imbalance there. This isn’t a duel between equals. Let’s look at what the wiki says about the agni kai ritual:

Any firebender may participate in an Agni Kai. Fire Lords can also be challenged, but that rarely occurs, as most Fire Lords are among the most powerful firebenders in the world.

I hear you saying “but sokkastyles, it says any firebender can participate and surely that means that children can fight duels with adults!” To which I say, common sense is your friend, please get to know it.

What I wanted to draw your attention to, though, is the statement that Fire Lords are rarely challenged to agni kais because they are among the most powerful in the world. Makes sense, right? It’d be pretty stupid to challenge the most powerful firebender alive to a firebender duel, unless you were pretty sure of your abilities. That doesn’t prohibit the Fire Lord from challenging others or fighting in the place of someone else, but it does ensure a pretty unbalanced fight. Which brings me to the next point, which was that Zuko did not even know he was fighting the Fire Lord. I think a lot of people forget this but it’s a key detail in whether or not you can consider this to be a legally or culturally justifiable fight. Even if you consider Zuko able to fully consent as a thirteen year old to fighting against an adult, against the Fire Lord, against his father, Zuko very obviously cannot knowingly consent to fighting someone that he didn’t even know he was fighting until the last moment, when it was too late to back down.

I’ve also seen people say that Ozai only burned Zuko because Zuko refused to fight, but here’s the thing. Given what I just outlined, Zuko was put in a situation that he could not reasonably consent to, that he obviously could not win, and then is punished for backing down. This is not a mere cultural ritual. This is Ozai deliberately manipulating the situation so that no matter what Zuko did, he would get hurt. And I don’t for a minute believe that Zuko would be spared if he had chosen to fight. If Zuko had chosen to fight, he would most likely have been cast as disloyal, the kind of disloyal son who would attack his father, and quickly defeated, and Ozai probably would have branded him as a result of his dishonor just the same. As it is, Ozai exerts his will against an adolescent who is begging and crying on the ground in front of him.

The wiki also says that a challenge has to be accepted, and we don’t see Zuko accept the challenge in the flashback, but even if he did, he was accepting it without the full knowledge of who he would be fighting, which renders his ability to accept moot if we go by most people’s understanding of legal consent (and, again, children cannot legally consent in any case, but anyway). Once he does see who he is fighting, he immediately tries to back out of it, but by then it isn’t an option. If Zuko isn’t given an option to decline then he can’t actually meaningfully accept the challenge.

Here’s another interesting tidbit from the wiki:

The Agni Kai is an ancient Fire Nation tradition. Fire duels have been fought for hundreds of years. However, such a duel is a grave matter, meant to be a last resort when all else fails or is insufficient to settle a dispute.

Did Ozai fight his son to settle a dispute? Was it a last resort, after other means of peaceful resolution had failed? I’m not gonna debate about whether a teenager speaking out during an important meeting justifies a duel or if burning a child’s face is an acceptable form of corporeal punishment. I think even by the rules of hypermasculine fantasy violence this would be considered a disproportionate response. My purpose is to point out that even by the established rules of hypermasculine fantasy fire land, it still would be considered a gross abuse of the system. Even the people on Zuko’s crew, who are all Fire Nation military, are shocked to hear the story. Jee says he assumed that Zuko was in a training accident and is nicer and more sympathetic to Zuko after learning how Zuko was scarred. Which would not be the case if the narrative that Ozai spins about Zuko losing his honor and being disrespectful and thus deserving to be burned were universally culturally accepted as true. I think there were enough people who thought it was, the Zhaos who bought into the fascist regime and glorification of violence. And yes, learning that it wasn’t justified was part of Zuko unlearning all the fascist BS his nation had been indoctrinated with, but it’s also made clear that Ozai wasn’t just acting within the rules of his society and that Zuko had to unlearn a lot of psychological conditioning due to his father’s abuse, and that included the idea that he deserved to be hurt. Ozai uses fascist values to justify hurting Zuko but what lies behind it is Ozai’s desire to use his power to hurt his son, and abusive people will frequently find ways of justifying their actions, by whatever means.

It’s also funny that people who bend over backwards to justify Ozai attacking a crying, surrendering child (from any direction, legally, morally, culturally, I don’t care) are often the same people who claim that Zuko was somehow taking advantage of Azula by fighting her when she was unstable and would have tried to kill him and harm others regardless of whether he had accepted her challenge.

#zuko #ozai #agni kai #fire nation #atla meta #abuse cw

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goldenkamuyhunting · 4 years

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Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 272 “Ipopte”

New chapter and I didn’t think I would feel so bad for what happens here but I do so sorry if I won’t deliver everything well but this chapter... it was really painful.

The sentence is a reference to Giovanni Falcone’s quote “Gli uomini passano, le idee restano. Restano le loro tensioni morali e continueranno a camminare sulle gambe di altri uomini.” (“Men pass, ideas remain. Their moral tensions live on and will continue walking on other men's legs.”).

Kiro, Boutarou and Ariko’s deaths weren’t useless, they sacrificed themselves to protect other lives. The shame is on those who killed them, not on them.

Anyway...

We start with a colour chapter that basically sums up Sugimoto and Asirpa’s first meeting as it’s the scene in which Asirpa helped Sugimoto to get up after they killed the bear.

In a way it tells us that things are coming to full circle.

We’ve started this way, now we’re really close to see how we’ll end.

The worst part is maybe to see how cute this image that started the chapter is, now that I know how tragic the chapter itself is. And the story might be going on the same track. Everything started so nice and optimistic… and now…

Anyway we begin with a flashback, the flashback of how, during the battle of Mukden, Kikuta and Ariko’s trench was bombed and they had to spend the whole night there before being found, talking each other to make sure they were alive, only a sliver of moon visible (chap 207).

For Kikuta that moment was a really important moment of bonding with Ariko, but we weren’t explained why. Now we’re about to be told about it.

We start the scene with Kikuta checking if Ariko is still alive, which Ariko confirms. They had bandaged their wounds and, apparently can’t move. Kikuta tells Ariko to talk so they’ll know they’re alive. Everything is fine. Trapped there, seriously wounded and forgotten or assumed death, in almost complete darkness with only a tiny sliver of moon visible… their situation is clearly scary.

Kikuta, the officer, realizes they need to talk. To tell each other they’re alive, to distract themselves, to comfort themselves by reminding each other they aren’t alone.

And, since he’s an officer, he asks Ariko to talk because that’s the best way he has to make sure the latter is alive and properly distracted. He’s willing to listen him whatever Ariko wants to say, even if he points out something upbeat would be nice (superior officers normally didn’t listen to soldiers talking about what they wanted).

Ariko says once back home he would like to practice making a Makiri. Kikuta knows what a Makiri is, an Ainu knife. He probably learnt it when they met Ariko’s father, Siromakur, who told them he was making a Makiri for his son.

Ariko explains for Ainu they’re important because girls will accept them as husband according to the craftsmanship of the one they give to them as a present. Kikuta thinks this is because Ariko is afraid to be turned down by a girl he likes.

Ariko explains that’s not the case, the Makiri will be for himself.

He explains some parents might teach in details how to make Makiri to their sons, but his own father thought Ariko could learn doing one just by watching him doing one. Ariko though admits he wasn’t interested in watching him.

The way this scene is structured is good. There are three panels. In one there’s Ariko, in the other there’s Kikuta, in the middle there’s Siromakur.

Unknown to Ariko both of them are thinking to Siromakur as he carved the Makiri. Noda places them in symmetrical position but Ariko’s eyes are looking away from the central panel, as if unable to look at his father as he admits he wasn’t interested in what he was trying to teach him. Kikuta instead seems to look straight at him, straight at the guilt he feels for that man’s death.

Ariko goes on explaining at that time he basically didn’t see any difference between Wajin and Ainu. He would fight who were to make fun of him even if he were an Ainu and he would help who were to need him even if he were a Wajin.

Ariko believed worrying about the Ainu's future is a burden, something he doesn’t care about. Basically he’s saying to him they’re all humans, there’s no Ainu and Wajin, but also that he believes he has no special ties with his traditions and culture and he’s not interested in carrying them in the future.

He probably would prefer to be just a ‘nihon-jin’ a Japanese, without divisions between Ainu and Wajin.

It would be beautiful if everyone could be just like Ariko, if we could respect each other without having to defend our identity and without seeing it being trampled upon or misrepresented, or appropriated, or condemned.

The world though, is not so nice, and sometimes you’ve to fight just for the right to... exist.

Yeah, the world is actually a terrible place.

Ariko doesn’t wish for a conflict between Wajin and Ainu… but the conflict exists and he can’t sit out or turn his eyes away from it… which doesn’t mean to take an extremist position, but just being aware and take a stance.

Still, maybe because when he talks with Kikuta he is a little older than how he looks in the flashback when he watches at his Ainu clothes and thinks the Ainu business is a pain, he is starting to understand the importance of his own tradition, of his own culture, of how sad it would be if it were to go completely lost.

Each culture is precious, when it gets erased is a loss for the whole humanity. We know this now, we clumsily try to protect them, but GK takes place in the past and few had this awareness.

Ariko still manages to realize how his father’s Makiri had a design passed down for generation. It’s a design that ties him to the past generations, to the history of his family. It’s part of his history but, in more simpler terms, it’s also part of what ties Ariko to his father. A line that travel from Ariko to the past of his ancestors, or from them to Ariko as Ariko believes his father wanted to pass it down to him as well... in the hope Ariko would pass it down too, tying past and future together.

Ariko’s father has probably realized Ariko at the time had little interest in Makiri making… but that the interest might come in the future. Siromakur accepts Ariko is young and wants to fit in the world he’s in, instead than just being concerned with the Ainu problems, but he seems to think by growing up Ariko might also grow to understand the importance of his past, of their past and traditions.

That’s why he was making for him a Makiri when Ariko became a soldier, because even if Ariko at the moment had no wish to learn how to make a Makiri, as long as he had a Makiri with himself, he would be always able to duplicate it should he wish to do so.

And, although I think he handled the whole gold thing very poorly, a side of me loves Siromakur as a father.

He accepts and respects his son’s wishes but, at the same time considers Ariko might grow to change his mind and doesn’t want for it to happen when it’s too late.

Ariko doesn’t want to learn to carve a knife now?

Fine, he’ll give him the means to learn to carve one when he will feel ready to do so. I think he genuinely wanted Ariko to learn. I think although he too didn’t want a conflict with the Wajin, he loved his culture and wanted to pass it down to Ariko… but still, he respected Ariko’s will and gave him space.

However Ariko admits his father didn’t make in time to end the Makiri but died while carving it. Siromakur was hoping Ariko would have time to learn through the Makiri he would make for him… but fate is a cruel master and died before finishing the knife.

His Makiri went missing too, so Ariko can’t replicate it and regrets it, regrets what he now has lost and can’t recover. With tears in his eyes he admits he should have watched his father more closely and it’s clear it’s not just about the Makiri that he won’t be able to duplicate.

That Makiri, the memories of him watching his father making one and teaching him, could have been something to whom he could latch now that his father wasn’t alive anymore. Ariko though wasted that time and now his father is dead and he’s left with nothing in his hands.

And his wish to learn to make a Makiri is an attempt to recover what he has lost, to reconnect with his father now that his father is no more. In chap 247 Ariko reminds him as a gentle man who never spoke much.

He can’t believe he was planning to buy weapons and he’s right. Siromakur wasn’t. He wanted to mediate. Maybe the fact Siromakur was silent made Ariko feel like his father was distant… but the fact he was gentle clearly told Ariko he cared.

And so we see this grown man crying because he lost his father… and his pain is real and easy to empathize.

As Kikuta doesn’t comment, Ariko asks him if he’s alive. Kikuta confirms he is and apologizes. Ariko reminds him to make a response once in a while if he’s alive. In answer Kikuta rests his hands on Ariko’s shoulder and apologizes.

He’s clearly not apologizing for having fallen silent but for having been what caused Ariko’s loss. Kikuta regretted Siromakur’s death and now he regrets it even more as he knows he’s responsible for Ariko’s pain. In a way I think Kikuta subconsciously grew so close to Ariko also due to this, it’s as if he wanted to ‘adopt him’ to make up for the loss he has caused him.

We’re back in the present and we’ve another page with a good panel structure.

On the top we see Kikuta, head down, likely still bothered by the situation. I’m pretty sure he can guess what Tsurumi is doing to Asirpa and he’s not liking it… but he’s not fighting it either. He regrets but doesn’t act because it wouldn’t be advantageous to him. Kikuta plays safe.

On the lower part of the page there’s Ariko, Ariko who instead is going to act, to fight. He’s more aware of his position now and he’s going to take a side, to take a risk. Now he’s letting the whole matter affect it. He has grown up and he’s aware he lives in a terrible world and he’s going to take a position and try to fight for the right cause… even if it might be disadvantageous to him. Ariko is going to take a risk.

In the middle the church where everything is taking place.

Ariko gets in the room as Tsurumi, who has heard the code from Asirpa, grabs the skins, tosses them on the ground and scans them quickly, trying to decode the code with Asirpa’s keyword.

Ariko approaches, his arrival surprising Tsukishima who’s still spying the scene.

Ariko claims he’s there to tell him the location of Hijikata’s hideout so they can attack it. Asirpa is surprised but Ariko is actually using that as an excuse to cut Asirpa’s rope with his Makiri. I wonder if that Makiri is the one who stayed unfinished or his father’s one.

Tsurumi easily sees through him and doesn’t even bother move.

Ariko crumbles, clearly afraid, he’s a honest person and a fail as an actor, points his gun at Tsurumi and demands for him to give them the tattooed skin. As Tsukishima takes his rifle, Asirpa finishes freeing herself.

Tsukishima and Koito comes in, weapons in hands, Tsukishima wounding Ariko. Asirpa frees Sofia even if Ariko hurries her to escape.

Sugimoto and Shiraishi, hearing the shoots, run toward the church with the bottle-mobile, Kikuta also runs there while Sofia grabs a bench and tosses it in Ariko and Tsukishima’s direction, causing the door to close. The bench then falls on Tsurumi but he’s so caught up he doesn’t care.

Sofia, Asirpa and Ariko runs out. Sugimoto doesn’t even stop but the trio tries to jump on the bottle-mobile as it’s running. Ariko raises Asirpa so that Shiraishi can help her to climb up, Sofia gets in Ariko… Ariko is shoot in the leg and falls.

Tsukishima and Koito are out. The bullet was clearly shoot by Tsukishima, I’m not sure if Koito also has shoot. Ariko shoots back but gets no one. Asirpa calls him but Ariko urges them to go without stopping. He knows he’s giving his life to help her, he knows he’s entrusting their future to her.

He has no hesitation as he tells her to go.

The bottle-mobile passes in front of Kikuta. Sugimoto and Kikuta see each other and confirm they’re really the vagrant boy and Kikuta-san.

As Sugimoto realizes so, his eyes seem bigger and they’re really clear and shiny. I wonder if the idea is that seeing Kikuta brings him back to a time in which he was younger and less jaded.

Kikuta then sees Ariko on the ground and moves toward him, asking him what’s going on.

Ariko is still on the ground and says his name as he sees him moving closer. Ariko knows Kikuta cares about him, he knows Kikuta wanted to save him. They had a bond in a way.

He trusts him, he doesn’t try to aim his weapon at him.

I don’t think he hopes Kikuta will save him though, I think he’s just sad... but at least he’s not alone...

... he’s not alone as Tsukishima is next to him and shoots him in the heart, killing him immediately.

I would like to think maybe Tsukishima did so because he thought Ariko would have tried shooting Kikuta... but it’s clear that wasn’t going to be the case. Ariko has made no attempt to aim at Kikuta.

Tsukishima is just mercilessly getting rid of Ariko, a man who dared to oppose to Tsurumi and his ‘oh so wonderful goal of salvation for those who bow his head to him’.

Kikuta is clearly shocked beyond belief. His eyes go all white, with no irises or pupils.

Asirpa calls Ariko’s Ainu name, the only name she has used for him, ‘Ipopte’. She’s shocked too although her pupils are really tiny dots.

We can’t see the face of who’s with her. Will Noda draw them in the volume version? Or is the idea she’s the only one who truly cared and suffers, suffers for the loss of a man, an Ainu like her, who gave his life to save her own?

I don’t know but still what Noda does is interesting because he shows Ariko, who believed Ainu and Wajin were no different, mourned terribly by both a Wajin and an Ainu.

There’s no difference in that moment between Kikuta and Asirpa. Both suffer for Ariko’s death. They’re the better world Ariko believed in where people is just people, not Wajin or Ainu but humans.

Sadly they aren’t the only ones in this world.

Tsukishima walks past Kikuta.

For the first time in the story, with the exclusion of the flashback with him and Igogusa/Harumi Chiyo, we can see there’s light in Tsukishima’s eyes.

His eyes aren’t anymore completely black, they’re shining, there’s light in them.

He has killed Ariko, but he’s no more Tsurumi’s mindless executor. He’s a believer now. He believes Tsurumi’s cause with all his heart and therefore Ariko’s death isn’t something to regret, but something he had to do in order to reach his goal.

He can go back to the church, leaving Ariko’s body under the rain.

In a past meta I wondered if Tsukishima would overcome his vice of Acedia and find salvation or not.

Well, this scene feels like an answer to it.

This new Tsukishima… now cares for his goal, but not for the people who’ll have to die for him to reach it. He won’t feel bad anymore, he’ll march on.

He likely now believes his place is with Tsurumi, not out of obligation but because he wants it.

He decided so and his decision gives him life. And, I think, this is Noda’s way to prepare us to when the Tiger’s curse will strike. Tsukishima is no more a victim of his own Acedia. He’s an active and willing participant. And I’m sad.

Because I knew the Tiger’s curse would befall on him but still I was hoping Tsukishima would… I don’t know, find a way to… get forgiven, that he would grow and manage to pull himself out of this situation and toward a better path and instead… he has grown but he also has decided this is what he wants. And this is maybe the saddest thing, that even if Tsukishima changed, even if he grew… well in the end not only it changed nothing but it made it worse.

Still, it makes sense it’s Tsukishima who kills Ariko, because both, in a way, didn’t want to take a position, Tsukishima blindly following Tsurumi even though he didn’t know if he were trustworthy, Ariko wishing he wouldn’t have to follow anyone.

In the end they both took a stance, Ariko decided he would help who’s in need of help, Asirpa, his people, Tsukishima decided to trample over those who would get in the ‘salvation’ Tsurumi claimed he would offer to those who would submit to him.

Ariko dies, but his sacrifice isn’t pointless. He died to do a good thing, to save someone, and by saving Asirpa he will allow others to live.

Tsukishima lives but I’m willing to bet nothing good will come for him or his cause by taking Ariko’s life, because really, nothing good can come from taking a life, especially if it was the life of a good man. Tsukishima can walk away with light in his eyes but, to me, it feels like with this act he has willingly killed what was good inside him. He’s killing the companions he believes Tsurumi would save who can see there’s no salvation in Tsurumi’s words. He’s self destroying his goal and he’s not even realizing him.

He comes to side with the worst of the world. Same as when he took part to the murder of Kiro but now worse. At this point… I don’t think there’s a chance of salvation for him, and while it’s sad because Tsukishima was a character I like… well, Tsukishima has done his choice. And it was the wrong one.

#Golden Kamuy #Ariko Rikimatsu #Kikuta Mokutarou #Asirpa #Sofia #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Siromakur #Koito Otonoshin #Tsukishima Hajime #Wilk #Sugimoto Saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Hijikata Toshizou #Retar #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories

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umbrixunversed · 3 years

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Owl House theory because I! Am! Hyperfixating!

Also I haven't technically finished season one because that requires time to Sit Down and Focus so I just have been absorbing information via Tumblr and fanfics so... Dubious understanding of canon details.

I'd use a read more but I'm on mobile and can't figure out how to do that so if you don't care or are avoiding spoilers I suggest you start scrolling.

---

Belos is the son of Philip, possibly out of multiple. Mom probably a Clawthorne ancestor bc Belos also seems to like using bird motifs considering all the wing imagery + the Coven mook masks are all very much birds and birds are Clawthorne things.

This is why Belos has knowledge of a lot of things, but doesn't seem to have quite the *same* knowledge that one might expect if he was Philip. It's second hand or taught. Not lived. Personal. There's gaps.

Also two theories on how he got cursed, both mirroring Eda and Lilith in different ways.

One:

Belos doesn't have/had very little natural magic but his sibling *did*. He got cursed bc his sibling, pissed that despite them having magic, Belos seemed to be their Dad's favorite, and felt the need to one-up him somehow.

( He might have been the favorite. Or he might have just spent more time with him because neither could use magic. They were both odd ducks in the boiling isles, and weirdos have to stick together, right? )

Anyway, sibling tries to take on the power of the Titan itself. This goes… Poorly. Belos does something, possibly the same spell Eda and Lilith used-- an old family spell, which is why Eda and Lilith knew it!-- and ends up cursed himself. Maybe Philip and Mom dies in the fiasco, which is part of why Belos is against wild magic? But sibling survives, maybe becomes the Collector later, seeking more power but dissatisfied with most results after the Titan? Might have children beforehand, or maybe there's another sibling, or maybe our current Clawthornes are descended from an aunt or uncle, and technically unrelated to Belos. Shrug.

Theory 2 is:

Philip's family was down and out, and upon discovery of the boiling isles, Philip brought back some things that he could to help them out. Maybe there was a sickness going around and he used potions to help cure it? And then witch trials happened. And there's the Wittenbanes. Very much using actual literal witchcraft. Philip escapes with a sibling ( I like brother bc then terrible uncles get to be a theme ) maybe, but everyone else is dead. Sibling now hates witches and magic. Sibling extra hates that Philip has settled down here with these horrible things that killed their family. Sibling does something Very, Very Dumb. Sibling turns themselves into a curse, potent either due to the intent or possibly they tried to pull from the Titan and became a two-fold curse, with Philip being the first victim. The possession curse thing just… Tears through him. Soon enough he's dying and tries to send his family away but Belos just *refuses* to leave his Dad and tries to care for him despite his wishes. Which leads to the sibling getting a hold of him. He tries to fight, tries to find a way to extend his life to keep it from tearing through more people, but this just ends with what we see now: Someone much less Belos and much more the curse, cruel and cunning, patient after so long being held back… And much better at wheedling people into destructive behaviour.

Originally thought there'd have to be direct descendants bc Hunter but Grimwalker theory makes that obsolete. Maybe still is and Grimwalker book is a red herring. Who knows. Anyway. If Hunter is a Grimwalker I think he might be a clone of Philip. He just looks like a witch bc all those magic ingredients had an Effect.

Lil' Rascal was Philip's palisman, and it got it's scar from Belos waaaaay back when when he tried to munch it bc Titan hUNGER. Also headcanon that Palismans normally have a bit of a witches magic ( Is this Canon or did I read this in a fanfic? I don't know. ) But bc Philip was human a 'lil bit of soul will suffice :) So lil' Rascal is also kind of low-key Philip.

Also Belos either cut his ears to blend in or he was born with odd tiny crumpled mangled ears bc half-breeds are… Quirky. ( Esp bc not even any of the humans we see I think have quite the same way of drawing the inside of the ear there? Like Luz doesn't have that little round bit. )

Also Belo's plan is very much the Titans/the uncle's… And it's trying to kill off the witches. If it's the Titan it does NOT like them for… some reason. Maybe sapping what magic it has left? Or maybe sibling/uncle just really pissed it off with their stunt and these fuckers just gotta go wholesale now. Either way it's trying to get to the human realm bc 1) Humans and "witches" historically Do Not Mix. ( Hello, witch trials! ) 2) Magic seems to be in the realm of the boiling isles, not just the Titan, so removing from there might substantially weaken them eventually. Sure, they have bile sacks, but how much you want to bet that bile is produced as a by-product from everything they eat and maybe even breathe? How long will that last outside the isles? Especially if they have to defend themselves against our warmongering asses. It will NOT be pretty. Whatever's actually left of Belos is pretty much coo coo for cocoa puffs after so long. There might not even be much left, or if there is he's mostly stuck inside his own head. Might not even be aware of what's going on! ANGST!

#owl house #owl house spoilers #emperor belos #hunter #When was the last time I used my tumblr to make a post?#hell if I know but dear god I want someone to scream with #might use this to make a fic. might not. probably not my attention span is horrendous.#but maybe if people pester me? 👀

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glassworkspiderlilies · 4 years

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the earth shudders at the tower asunder (1/4)

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Aether | AO3 Summary: Not all gods have long memories. (Primordial!Travelers AU, in which Lumine and Aether are not just gods, but amongst the oldest ones.) Notes: oops, forgot to post this here yesterday, so voila. approx 4.5k words. not a holiday fic, but happy holidays!

Their first memories are these: the expanse of bright blue sky, the glow of gentle light. Their true names. Each other—recognition of you, me, brother, sister. We, us, together.

And a voice, a soft, kind echo of stay together, now.

It is a long time before they settle on names in the human tongue, but when they do, they cycle through many, though Aether and Lumine they tend to favor. In the early days, it is only the two of them. They learn to walk and run and fly together; they learn to speak, though in a language only the two of them understand, and more than half of it nonverbal regardless. Not long after, they learn to traverse through worlds too, though at first they did not realize they were doing so, having only crossed into open plains and isolated forests for some time. It is only until they are found by humans one day and taken in as spirits to be worshipped that they grow to be a little more like them through observation.

Two shimmering, golden twins who, somewhat inadvertently, brought fortune to the small village...it wasn't long before they were hailed as gods.

The then-nameless twins decide to stay out of curiosity, and as they watch generations come and go, they learn about the blessings and trappings of mortality. There is still a barrier; they cannot feel wholly what it is their human friends feel, but they continue to learn, and recognize that perhaps, some things are not so different between them after all. Love, loyalty, joy…the villagers are eager to please their gods, and feel relief to see that pleasure reflected on the twins' faces. All this too is a language, and the twins are ever evolving.

Life around them flourishes. The twins bend their surroundings to ways that please them: clear skies, warm sunlight, light breezes. An abundance of flowers and other flora. Bountiful harvests for the seeds sown. They read the earth and temper the ley lines, and the lives that they have come to lead, which in turn is that of the village's, is mild and peaceful. In the beginning there was only two of them, but since then they have gained much, and they are grateful for it.

It does not last.

The village grows into a town, and then a city. The times change, the people change, and the values change. The twins, now sequestered in their aging temple, watch and feel the energies shift. The earth groans, the ley lines diminishing slowly. The so-called god-twins haven't been forgotten, no, but the eyes that are turned upon them are hungrier, more calculating, and sometimes, even malicious. The priests that tend to them range in the service, too; in the past, they did not have priests, just friends who helped them of their own free will. Now, those who tend to the twins are either careless or fanatic.

It is tiring. The world is no longer as they know it, and it is no longer comfortable to stay. But they have seen this city grow from the cluster of huts it used to be, and so, is it not what humans call “home”? But time continues to pass, and the energy continues to bubble and burst in unpleasant ways. What the twins can do for the people is no longer enough; their own values are too outdated, and what they are and aren't willing to do is not understood by humans who lead such different existences.

The twins have grown too mortal-seeming for the people to be intimidated by any aspect of them anymore. And so the day comes when an organized group breaks into the temple and shackles them, with the intentions of forcing them to do their bidding, for the good of the city, or so they say.

It is a new pain, the cold iron chafing their ankles and wrists, the spite turned towards them, the abandonment by many of those whose ancestors they could easily trace back to someone they liked. There is pain on their mortal flesh, too; if the men no longer believe in the gods, they do not think twice of striking them. That they bruise and bleed seems only to reinforce that they are not so special; there are others with abilities now, and the twins have not shown all their hands—and even less of them, with the times.

Lumine licks the blood from her lip and looks to her brother, who spits his own blood from his mouth.

They were born of the sky and light; they do not want to be contained like this.

They cannot, and will not be contained like this.

“This is no longer home,” the sister says, her eyes melancholy.

“Let’s go,” the brother says, his eyes angry, and the twins join hands.

“Goodbye,” they say together, their voices—one wistful, one disgusted—echoing across the city, and in a shimmer of light and a puff of wind, the twin gods are gone.

The shackles hit the ground with a damning clatter.

They do not return, though many, moved by the farewell and feeling their abandonment, pray and hope for years after.

The changes in the city are not so explicit, but noticeable. There is a certain life missing in the city, a certain protection, and a certain watchful tenderness.

The people lament and regret their hubris, but it is too late.

By the time the civilization falls, the twins are past looking back.

Stay together, now.

The first lesson is the hardest. In the end, they only have each other.

They are more careful, the next time they stay longer in a place. They traverse through several worlds before they decide to again, and it is because of a young boy who saved their life—or is under the impression he did, anyway—from animal traps in the woods.

It starts, as always, with a curiosity; the boy, Idris, excited by their foreign clothes and manners, wants so badly to hear their stories.

The other townspeople are warier of them, but as the twins get to know the boy by entertaining his requests, it is slowly revealed by his aborted sentences and the scars on his arm that his home life is…not good. He sneaks out to escape his family, and his talks with the travelers from places he’s never heard of before are the highlight of his life.

They cannot take him with them. But they can, at least, stay.

Unfortunately, there is not much they can do for him besides tend to his wounds and keep his spirits up, but that is enough for Idris.

He grows from a boy to a teen, and then a young adult, and runs away from home. Aether and Lumine aid his escape, and the joy on Idris’ face as they shoot through the woods brings them joy that they had not felt so keenly in a long time.

Idris eventually grows to lead a simple, comfortable life at the edge of a faraway town. Aether is amused that Idris never tires of listening to his and Lumine’s stories, and that he even asks for some to be repeated. They spar with him and teach him better ways to defend himself so he is not subjugated again, the twins themselves having been taught by both peasants and masters alike as they traveled through worlds.

In turn, Idris teaches them to cook—properly, with pots and pans and assorted seasonings. He teaches them other recipes over the fire too, but the fascination the twins show with what he considers regular home cooking makes him laugh.

The three spend their days living as simple huntsmen, though Idris performs more of the day-to-day business transactions. Though the bond between the twins is—something sacred, Idris grows to be something of a brother, too. They note how easily he smiles and laughs now, compared to his reservation as a boy, as well as his growing strength and his eternal kindness, and are glad.

And then—he becomes King.

Soldiers come to their little house in peace, with a representative to explain Idris’ history. A child was lost in a storm and presumed dead, but the body was never found, though his mother the Queen’s was. The information was hidden by the first prince’s faction, who was quite a few years older, and already quite prepared to be heir. But a few months ago, the first prince had been assassinated, and the news that the second prince might still live was revealed due to the sudden lack of succession.

And so, a hunt was mounted, and now, finally succeeded.

His return to the King’s side is not a mere request to be denied, and so, pleading that Aether and Lumine go with him, they are all escorted to the royal castle posthaste.

As it turns out, the King does not have much time to live, hence the increased desperation to find his lost heir. Idris is, of course, baffled and confused, but there is an instant—and real—fondness between father and son, who have such little time between them, and surprisingly more in common than the first prince had with his father.

The King’s last days are filled with conversations with Idris, both personal and official. Idris is unprepared, but he has his father’s last minute lessons and his most trusted advisors, and—though in his heart, he thinks this position is not for him—he cannot back down from the expectations placed upon his shoulders.

No one knows what to do with the strange twins that come with him, but Idris’ first command is that they not be bothered. Aether and Lumine are free to do as they please—he is adamant about this, because he always, and continues, to know them as travelers, even if they have been with him for so long and grown near and dear to his heart.

The twins sense the distress at his position under the brave façade he puts on, however, and continue to stay, much to his relief. In their travels they have seen kings and queens and various types of rulers; though this is the first time they have truly spent their time in the company of one, they can, at the very least, share stories that may help, as they always have.

In time, they become King Idris’ closest and most trusted advisors. He becomes a wise and benevolent ruler with their assistance, the kingdom flourishes—and the air feels once more like home.

Yet—as years go on, the twins, no matter how venerable they are, begin to be regarded with wariness and suspicion.

They do not age.

For a long time, Idris had simply accorded it to good genes; there have been others who look younger than they are. His own Queen is one of them. But as he grows into a proper man while Aether and Lumine still look like adolescents…he would be a fool to continue making excuses.

Still, no one asks. The twins have served well, and have done nothing to give doubt to their character. If they are spirits or fae or gods, then it is in their better interest not to offend them by probing unnecessarily. This uneasiness and curiosity sinks into the background anyway when the Queen finally gives birth to her first child after many difficulties, and there is joy all around at the arrival of a new prince.

And then—war begins to brew.

Small skirmishes around the border begin to grow into larger battles. Villages on the outskirts are razed to the ground; hostages are taken. Full-scale invasion looms, and quickly the kingdom prepares to go to battle with their neighbor.

The King dons his armor, prepared to lead his armies, and yet…and yet—

He looks at his firstborn child with desperation. His Queen cries on his shoulder; the King is a good man and an able fighter, but he is no skilled warrior, and the tides of the battle are not optimistic. The few sorties he’s led are nothing compared to what is to come. Idris looks at his wife and child and wonders if he is a weak man for not wanting to die in battle, no matter how glorious the cause.

At night, after his son has been settled and his wife has fallen into a tearful, exhausted sleep, he prays.

He prays, and as he does, has a thought.

There is a tower that the twins favor, as it is the highest point in the castle. Oftentimes they have been seen perched precariously on the topmost point of its roof—and it is a mystery how they get there, every time. Some swear that they must have flown, but the twins have never been caught in the action, and so it had become something of a joke.

But…perhaps…it is not a jest, after all.

They are not on the roof when he finds them but on the balcony proper, and their eyes are somberly luminous in the moonlight. That they say nothing, their faces blank as they wait for him to speak, makes him nervous. Suddenly there is a gulf between them; they’d been so close for so much of his life, but as he became more comfortable in his role as king and confident in his own decisions, he had sought them out less and less. And now…now, he is about to ask the impossible, his heart beating so loudly surely they must hear it.

Idris licks his lips and steels himself, squaring his shoulders.

“Aether. Lumine. Will you go to war with me?”

A pause, and Lumine’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. It is a severe expression on her young face, but her eyes are much older than her appearance belies.

“That is not,” she begins quietly, “The true question you are asking, is it?”

Idris flinches as if slapped, and Aether leans against the balustrades with deceptive nonchalance.

“Well?” he prompts, his faint smile matching his sister’s, and Idris covers his face with his hands, the accumulating stress from the past few months crashing down upon him all at once.

“Forgive me,” he rasps out, his voice raw, “Will you fight this war for me? It’s true, what they say, isn’t it? You aren’t…aren’t human. Gods, perhaps. If it is you two, surely you could turn the tides. I have…I have my people to think about. And my wife and child. Call me selfish if you must, but I cannot…we cannot win this battle alone. I am desperate to keep the peace and prosperity we have built. We have come too far to lose it all now…and if this is my only option…I will beg for it if I have to. So please…”

His voice cracks, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I beg of you…save me and my kingdom from our fate.”

He lowers his head and waits, squeezing his eyes shut, the tears falling without reserve, afraid of what will come next.

“We will fight your war,” Lumine whispers.

Idris’ head snaps back up, gratitude on his tongue, but freezes when he catches her expression.

Sorrow.

“But it will be the last thing we do,” Aether adds, holding his gaze.

His face is grave, though there is no accusation.

Idris’ throat is tight.

“I understand,” he says, “Thank you.”

The twins walk past him without looking at him again, and the King feels his heart break. But the choice is made. He will not regret it.

He cannot.

(On the battlefield, too few moons later, the twins walk ahead of Idris’ main army and cross their swords with each other’s at the first wave of enemy soldiers.

“Turn back,” they call, voice echoing across the terrain, and of course it is met with crude jeers and hollers before the opposing army charges.

None think to question just why it is the twins’ voices carry so far, with the wind whistling sharply and the dark, cloudy sky rumbling with thunder.

Wings of shimmering light burst out of the twins’ backs; both the King, his soldiers, and the enemy gasp at the otherworldly sight, the charge slowing just for a moment.

“We gave our warning,” the twins say sadly, and the field erupts into light.

It is over quickly, all things considered. By the time the light fades completely, many of their opponents are dead, and the remaining stragglers who do not flee are taken care of swiftly with plain swordsmanship.

They grant mercy where they can.

Rain turns the ground to mud as the battle comes to an end, and the twins return to Idris’ side streaked in blood afterward.

“Goodbye,” they say, their voices flat.

Idris means to say—something. I’m sorry, or thank you, or I hope to see you again. But the words stick in his throat, and the twins walk past him once more. This time, when he turns, they are nowhere to be seen.

Gods, or a kingdom? Idris is only mortal, and so must make a mortal choice.

Love for his land, love for his people, love for his family…there are things he wants to protect.

The twins cannot fault him. After all, they would have chosen each other, too.

But they sleep, for some years after that.

(“You forgive them, don’t you?”

“Ah, Lumi…it’s not about forgiveness. It’s about letting it go. We just…aren’t mortal, right? What good will it do to carry it with us?”

A pause. She presses her lips together, then sighs.

“I can’t help if it hurts,” she admits, turning her face away, and Aether chuckles.

“Well,” he says, ruffling her hair, and she immediately reaches over to ruffle his in revenge, “If it displeases you so much, then just forget, little sister.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, but her tone is merely mildly annoyed. The creation of his physical form a few scant questionable seconds before hers has been an age-old argument between them. “Fine. I suppose you are meant to just…accept.”

“And it’s both of our so-called jobs to just be. Isn’t it? But if you can’t let go, then just let it be, and let time take care of it. We are made of time.”

A silence.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

He smiles. This, too, is a question his sister asks often.

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

Lumine doesn’t have an argument. She sighs again.

“So be it,” she says, with a faint smile. )

When they wake, the landscapes are different, both earthly and spiritual. There are more spirits and gods and other celestial beings, and—

They don’t know if this is less lonely.

For a while it is, at least; the lesser spirits greet them mostly with fear or awe, and some brave ones with curiosity. (There is a small wind spirit that is unequivocally bold, circling around them for some months with brazen interest, and the twins miss its company as soon as it is gone. Wind is a free, fickle thing, after all; the twins had not expected it to stay, and the few months it was with them was already considered long.) The more powerful gods are wary, and greet them with respect and obedience, though not all are happy about it. The twins know not what it is they sense, that they think the two more powerful than them, but nor do they know enough to contest it. They travel, and roam, and bend the world in what they consider minor ways; surely these other newer gods can do more than that—and do what they hope is better by the humans who have grown more numerous. Many of these new gods have a people to watch over and guide with care—more than the twins can say for themselves.

Time passes, and the challengers begin to come.

The different gods of battle and weaponry and other such related things request duels. The twins win every time, for many years, treating these fights with polite amusement. Some take those losses with respect, others take it with anger, feeling belittled. But Aether and Lumine are not aggressive beings, so why should they respond with aggression?

Nonetheless, their behavior draws ire as year after year as they accept these duels and continue to win. Lumine’s style is clean and efficient, Aether’s is flashy and acrobatic. Those who are foolish enough to challenge them together see only a flash of light before they are flat on their backs, swords crossed at their necks.

“Must they persist?” Lumine asks her brother one day, as they start hiding from challengers.

Aether laughs.

“They must enjoy the challenge,” he says, spinning his blade, “It gives them something to live for, when life is so long.”

“And us?” Lumine asks, “What is there to challenge us?”

Aether pauses.

“Each other?” he says, grinning slyly. “Why, sister, if you wanted to lose, you need only ask.”

She throws her sword at him for that. He dodges as she summons her weapon back, and lunges forward just as her fingers close around the hilt.

They spar.

A mountain is flattened for their trouble, and the Lord of Mountains expresses his displeasure at them loudly, later. They take his scolding with good graces.

Making friends amongst gods is easier, truth be told; especially with the lesser ones. The Lady of Flowers and the Lord of Birds are among those they are closest to, the both of them having more placid natures, and also rulers of things the twins love best.

Among the stronger ones, they have a polite relationship with the God of Blizzards, and a slightly warmer one with The God of the Woods. The God of Storms they avoid, for he and the twins always seem to clash when they meet. They care not for the flavor of energy he cultivates, and he dislikes many things that are stronger than himself.

Somewhat surprisingly, they get along well with the newly minted God of Commerce, who is already starting to go by many names—including the God of War. He may be young, but his power grows at a rapid pace…and perhaps too quickly. Still, he is level-headed if sometimes rash, and the twins feel at ease watching someone be so sure of their place in the world.

Among the gods, even despite—or simply including—the annoyances, life is fuller. They share the same—or at the very least, similar—time; lasting friendships are formed, abilities are challenged and grow, and the twins laugh more easily in the skies.

And then, the gods start dying at the hands of one another.

Lesser gods go first, and it is a dark day when the twins see the Lady of Flowers wither away.

The God of Crags dies by their hand.

It accomplishes little, but nor can they bear to let such a thing go.

The cycle continues to turn, and grow more vicious; some spirits rise to power in these gruesome times, their potential unlocked by adversity. Some gods grow more powerful as they slay their friends and brethren.

As the Archons rise, the twins finally feel something new: their own abilities draining.

It is a disconcerting feeling. They retain the core of their abilities—their flight, their weapon-summoning, their attacks drawn from light. But something in their existence wavers, like a hazy mirage, and they know something within them is quickly being lost.

In their confusion, they retreat as far as they can from the continuing war between gods, and for a long time, are forgotten.

Among their last memories of each other is this: their hands, grasping each other as they feel the pull of spiritual essence leaving them, whispering to each other don’t leave me, do not go without me.

We must stay together.

The nausea passes, and as they start traveling through worlds once again, they feel like they are running from something, instead.

It finds them anyway.

Teyvat is on the cusp of being consumed by war, and almost immediately after they touch down, they make the decision to leave. No, no more; enough of this. It sickens them, and they are already gathering the energy to shift elsewhere. However—

“Outlanders, your journey ends here.”

They do not know this god, but they can feel her power, and briefly, they think, perhaps, this is how others felt about them so long ago.

The twins summon their swords and their wings as the Unknown God attacks, weaving in and out of her red streaks coiling through the sky.

They are still very skilled, but they are aware: over the millennia, they have grown so weak.

And so, as decreed, their journey ends.

Lumine watches as Aether is swallowed up, and she screams for her brother when he meets her eyes in horror.

Stay together, now.

She doesn’t remember moving, already behind the white-haired god; lightning crackles in her hand, and she yells as she lunges with her blade, the sky exploding into fire upon impact.

She almost, almost grabs her brother’s small prison out of the Unknown God’s hand.

But she fails, and as Lumine too is swallowed up by black and red, she screams for her brother’s return as the red god watches on, mercilessly.

(After all, the gods do not listen to the ones who do not belong.)

Lumine wakes, cold and alone—without her brother, without her wings, without her powers.

In the end, we only have each other.

But that’s not quite true, is it?

“Aether,” she whispers, trembling, her voice cracking.

How is it that there is more to the end, and without him? They were never meant to be separated. They were never meant to exist alone.

“Why are we here, Aether?”

“Why worry about it, when we already are? Come. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for?”

The sun, the flowers, the air. The world tilts around her, and all she can see is utter darkness, despite the blazing sunlight.

She has lived long, and much of it among mortals. She has felt sorrow, and joy, and anger.

But for the first time, as she stares up at the sky, bereft of everything that has ever mattered to her, she feels crushing, consuming despair.

#genshin impact #genshin traveler #genshin lumine #genshin aether #genshin traveler twins #genshin impact fic #fanfiction #a chapter fic?? from me?? wowza

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dailyaudiobiblechronological · 3 years

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11/23/2021 DAB Chronological Transcription

Acts 15 - 16

Today is November 23. I'm Jill. Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm so glad that you are here. It's my honor to be on this journey with with you to be reading the Word of God for us, as a community, as individuals, collectively. And we pray even in this moment that our hearts would be open, our ears would be open to hear, our eyes would be open to see all that God would want to say, to speak, to do in through and among us through His word. Today we are back in the story of Acts. We're reading Acts chapters 15 and 16. And this week we're reading the New English Translation, Acts 15.

Commentary

Okay, so the first part of our reading today in chapter 15, we see the first Church counsel form sharing just a little bit from The God of Your Story, one side of the argument states that the Gentile converts must be circumcised and required to follow the law of Moses. The argument on the other side was this, God knows people's hearts, and he confirmed that he accepts Gentiles by giving them the Holy Spirit just as he did us. He made no distinction between us and them, for he cleansed their hearts through faith. So why are you now challenging God by burdening the Gentile believers with a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors were able to bear? We believe that we are all saved the same way by the undeserved Grace of the Lord Jesus. Eventually the decision was made. Gentiles did not need to convert to Judaism to believe in Jesus. Although this might seem less important now, it was a distinction that fundamentally changed the way the Church was viewed. Prior to this, faith in Jesus was considered a sub-sect of Judaism, and followers of Jesus received the religious protections within the Roman Empire that the Jews received. The Jerusalem Council affirmed a distinction that clearly welcomed anyone who believed in Jesus and put the Church at odds with traditionalists. We will continue to see this issue arise as we move through the New Testament. And I'll bet if we look really close, we can still see it here today. I just kind of wrote that last part myself, not my husband. And then in the 16th chapter of Acts, today we have Paul and Silas imprisoned. And you know the story. The earthquake comes and shakes the jail, opens the doors, shakes the chains loose, and the jailer is about to freak out, thinking that he's going to lose all of his prisoners. Beautiful story. The jailer and his entire household comes into belief because of Paul's words after he asks him, sir, what must I do to be saved? They said, Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved. You and your household. We can so easily overcomplicate things. And yet we hear the words today from Paul and Silas. Just believe, just believe and you will be saved. There is power in what we believe as we see here clearly today.

Prayer

Father, we thank you for your words. We thank you that if we believe in you, then you will save us. It's that easy. I believe. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for your Grace. Thank you for your mercy that I don't deserve. And you give it to me anyways. And I am so eternally grateful for being gift that which I do not deserve. And somehow you say that I do. May we walk in the obedience and the bravery, not the fearlessness but the bravery that we see exemplified today through Paul and through Silas. We thank you. We love you. We praise you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, amen.

Announcements

Daily Audio Bible That's Home base. Guys, check it out if you have not. That's the website. We have some fun things coming up in just a couple of days, so stay tuned and we'll Jack it up and chat and talk about them in just a couple of days. One new thing we can talk about is the Promised Land coffee table book. It's available now while supplies last and it's beautiful. And so many of you guys are getting your copies and sharing them on social media. And I love love, love to see the photos of that. You can still order Wilder Side Get some coffee while you're at it because what goes really good with a coffee table book? Good coffee. And we have both and they're available at the website. If you would like to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you so much for your partnership if you're giving by mail DAB PO Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee 37174. Or hit the Give icon. It's up at the top right hand corner of your mobile device. Also, look for the Give icon on the website as well. If you need prayer, if you'd like to call in and pray for someone that's previously called in, you can do so 800-583-2164. You've got two minutes on the prayer line or you can utilize the mobile app again. Just hit the red circle button it's up at the top right hand corner. Make sure you hit submit. Turn the wheel Chronological and it will get to the right place. That's going to do it for me today. I'm Jill. We will turn the page together tomorrow and I look forward to it every day. It's my joy. It's my honor. It's my humble pleasure to be here reading the Word of God with you individually, collectively, and the community until we turn that page tomorrow. Love one another.

Community Prayer Line

Hey, DABC, it's refined by the fire in Ohio. I wanted to join with Kingdom Seeker Daniel and the Happy Red Button initiative that he's been on and how he cheers us all on. And we know that it's not because circumstances are great and we continue to pray for you and Lady Victory, and our hearts always are with you. But you always make it a point to reach out, encourage us to share with each other. And I just wanted to say thank you so much. I know I always look forward to the voices that we all recognize, and the list is long, so I'm not going to go through them all, but it is just so great. So not only the Prairie Coast that come in which I do appreciate, and I do love, but also just those who are able and willing to to hit that button and bring us some joy and encouragement. So I just wanted to say thank you and hope you guys are having a great day.

Hey, my overcoming Kingdom Seeker Daniel, Sonya in Austin, Texas. I'm praying for you as that young child is being moved back into your class. He needs deep healing and intervention. And I'm praying that God will protect you, that he would preserve you, your health, your mind, and that he would also watch over all the other children. But I pray a special prayer for that young child and any other children that are troubled like that in your class, in every class around the entire globe. Father, will you please help these troubled children that are coming from troubled homes that have seen all kinds of trauma and tragedy and fallout? Oh, dear Jesus, our children are in desperate need of you. Desperate need of healing, desperate need of recovery and intervention. They need you. More importantly, so would you show up for Sonya and all the other teachers and all the other educators around the world that are standing in the gap for these children? Thank you for the Sonya's of the world. Ziona from London. Such a blessing to hear from you. I so appreciate you says every time you call, which needs to be more so that means you got to press the red button. I'm on this red button. Kick you off. I don't know what it is. Press the red button, people, we want to hear from you. We need to hear from you. And so, Zyna, thank you so much. Please keep calling. Arooka Jaina, praying that the Lord will send comfort to that family. Where your 17 year old son and a group of other young men came to the encouragement to the aid of a friend. Such an encouragement. That was so wonderful of your son. But it just speaks to the volumes of his mother and Father. So God bless you.

Hi, my DABC family. This is William calling from the UK. I was just listening to the readings of the 18th. And after the readings, Kingdom Seeker Daniel called in. Your call came through and you mentioned Sonya, and I remembered that I had heard her prayer request regarding a little boy that was transferred to another room, and then he's been brought back to her class and she's requesting prayers while I was listening to Kingdom Seeker Daniel, talk or pray for you. Something dropped in my throat. I had the urgency to call and tell you each time this guy walks through the door. I'm not sure if you're allowed to do this, but if you are, each time he walks through the door every day lay a hand on his head for like a second and just say a simple phrase, a simple prayer. It could be. Let the spirit of God be with you today. You could just one line every day lay a hand upon him as he walks through the door. And with that, your spirit will become. And trust me, when you start this, the evil one the devil is going to find. It's going to seem like you're wasting your time. He might even be worse than he was, but just keep at it. I'm not sure why I had the odds to tell you, but I believe you should hear this. So every day, when he walks in through that door, lay your hand upon him and just say one liner. Brief. Simple. 30 seconds. 10 seconds. One line and get on with your day. And may the Lord be with you and give you the Grace to get me to do this wonderful work that you're doing. God bless you, Sir.

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teecupangel · 1 year

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Heeey long time no see, thoghts on whats going on in the comic?

Heeeeeey, and even longer time no answer, sorry TTATT

Anyway… first of all.

Here’s the tag for all my reactions and analysis to this webtoon.

This does mean I will be talking about Chapters 12 to 18 in this one and, ooohhh boy, let’s get this started XD

Okay, so this might get a bit disjointed in some places so uuuhh… bear with me?

First of all: I remembered reading that Birch was supposed to a business partner or something of Edward but I can’t find where I read that. It was never truly stated what Edward’s ‘front’ was (and I highly doubt he let it be ‘the trophy husband of a rich woman’) so Edward forming an alliance with Madam Lee might turn to him and Madam Lee having a business ‘alliance’ later, maybe Edward being the person in charge of Madam Lee’s business endeavors in London (maybe even Europe?). This would be a good place to set that up but, if it’s not, well… I also won’t be surprised considering the last few chapters XD

Sudden Ezio appearance!

Not surprising though since Ezio is the ancestor of the Kenways so, yeah, Noa having him in his genes is spot on.

However…

Excuse Me???

Bitch, if you trying to take over our baby boi Desmond Miles’ place, there will be… well… not riots but there will be some strong words being thrown around in this tumblr, that’s for damn sure!

BTW, love this game mechanics shoutout XD

(And yes, I do love these more than that Hitman coin toss thing in Chapter 11)

Also…

I know this is meant to be a visual ‘aid’ of some sort of the Italian Brotherhood around AC Brotherhood (Ezio and his recruits), but that’s Evie right there.

That’s Evie. XD

And finally...

Oh my heart… TTATT

Overall: Edward's parts are interesting and it does feel a lot like an AC game with lots of side objectives before tackling the main objective.

The flashbacks help show how Edward became the person who he is in this webtoon and his conflict with Madam Lee even with their alliance is also pretty interesting.

Refusing to call it opium and just calling it 'devil's powder' is funny though, ngl. I don't know if it's against webtoon's terms and services or not but calling it 'Devil's Powder' is the kind of dramatics that Edward would sometimes have. XD

On the other side though, honestly? I don't know if I would ever like Noa, especially with the way the webtoon is comparing him to Desmond Miles.

(I'm going to sound like a broken record)

Again, if the plot twist is he's Desmond's half-brother or son (super highly improbable), I'm out.

If the plot twist is he just so happened to have the same bloodline as Desmond (with Altaïr's bloodline included) but not closely related, I'm out. (For one, Altaïr's bloodline came from his mother's side and is not part of the Auditore-Kenway side. For another... siiigghhh... here's the post where we talk about how weird the percentages of Noa's 'bloodline' is)

The problem with his connection with Desmond is that it comes with doing disservice to an already existing underutilized character: Elijah.

Remember, all the memories Noa is reliving are Edward's memories before he had Haytham. So this means that Sample 17 could have been used to find these memories. They don't need Noa to do this.

And even if they need a 'living descendant' or what not.

ELIJAH IS STILL ALIVE in canon and would have the same memories.

"Oh, but Elijah is in hiding". Uh-huh. And it's not like Abstergo finding him or him creating his own modified Animus to find these memories would be anything out of the realm of possibility.

Which is why I am still advocating that 'Shimazu' Sei and her fellow kidnappers are doing this without Abstergo's approval and/or knowledge.

I detailed why I came to this conclusion here.

#the worst case scenario #i end up writing something for this #where it ends up like the end of grayspace(17) but with noa instead of layla #and i don't want to do that #i just don't get why noa has to be compared to desmond #unless they're going for a big plot twist of his relation with desmond #and at that point #(waves hands at elijah)#stop neglecting elijah!!!#assassin's creed #teecup analyze more than necessary #noa kim #edward kenway #teecup analyze and reacts to acft webtoon

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chaoticowlpost · 4 years

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hello, a prompt for you :) how about the golden and silver trio plus the others all in one house? like they're all holed up in one of draco's family manor or harry's impulsively-bought house and basically chaos ensues

“I told you this was a stupid idea.”

Draco was pacing in his - unreasonably large - bedroom, if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was more like a personal mini-sitting area that was attached to an actual bedroom.

“I blame Ronald,” Blaise snorted, lounging casually on one of the settees.

“Me?” Harry’s best friend yelped indignantly from where he was lying down on the carpet. “I wasn’t the one who said that there’s no way his parents would come back to find us here.”

“Don’t push that on me, now,” Pansy said haughtily, lying on one side of the large bed. “I wasn’t the one who suggested spending the day indoors.”

“I only suggested it because there’s a lot to do here,” Hermione defended herself. “I forgot that he wasn’t allowed to have people over when I said it. If anything, we should blame Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked, slowly processing that the blame had somehow been passed onto him. “What did I do?”

“You were the one who suggested going through the floo anyway,” Hermione huffed.

“I was just joking!” he said defensively, before snorting. “Besides, it’s not like I pushed you through your own fireplaces while Draco wasn’t looking,”

Harry focused his attention back onto Draco, who was still panicking silently. He felt himself frown at the sight, feeling bad for the other boy.

“Peer pressure.”

“Oh my gods!” Draco finally said aloud, wailing. “They’re going to kill me.”

“Relax, Draco,” Pansy said softly, empathizing with their friend. “What are the chances they’d come in here?”

“High!” Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide and frenzied. The image was also heightened by how messy his hair had become from running his hand through it repeatedly over the course of the past few minutes. “Very High!”

“Well, what do you suppose we do?” Hermione asked, getting up. “Maybe we can find a way to escape.”

“You’d think with how large your room is, they’d have bothered to link your fireplace to the floo network,” Ron snorted. He had a point, Harry conceded.

They all went silent after that, each one of them thinking of a possible solution before someone decides to come looking for Draco.

“Jump out of the window!”

“What?” Blaise demanded, looking appropriately concerned.

“Jump out of the window,” Draco repeated, his face showing that he was serious. “It’s the only other way.”

“I’ll break my legs!” Ron protested. “We’re on the third floor!”

“I’’ll break your legs, Weasley, if you lot get caught in here!” Draco hissed, glaring at the redhead.

“Surely, there’s another solution,” Hermoine interrupted, sounding uncertain.

“Nope,” Draco shrugged before finally plopping himself down on one of the sofas. “There are balconies below that you could land on, which should break your fall.”

“That’s assuming we actually land on them,” Pansy pointed out, an eyebrow raised.

“Sounds like your problem,” Draco huffed, raising a neat eyebrow back at her. “Because I told you not to come here.”‘

This was not how Harry thought he would die.

It was either death by Lucius Malfoy, who would probably make his death more painful once he realizes that Harry has feelings for his son, or death by jumping off a balcony.

Somehow, the balcony option began to look more appealing.

“This is an old, magic house, isn’t it?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “Maybe there’s a secret passageway somewhere?”

“And, pray tell, what makes you think that my magical ancestors would want to use secret passageways when they have magic?” Draco asked, looking like he was on the verge of imploding.

“It was just a suggestion, mate,” Ron shrugged, somewhat less bothered. He began walking around the room, examining for something. What he was looking for was entirely lost on Harry.

“We’re magic!” Blaise suddenly said out loud, sitting up abruptly.

“Yes, as I’ve been informed at the ripe age of 11,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Watch the tone, Potter,” Blaise said with no malice. “I just mean that we could cast a disillusionment charm on all of us and sneak out of the manor.”

“First of all,” Draco said, exhaling loudly through his nostrils. “The path from here to any possible exit is far; much farther than it would be if you’d jump out of the balcony-”

“Not happening,” Pansy huffed, interrupting him.

“-Secondly, none of us are good enough at that charm to go completely undetected,” Draco said pointedly. “And, really, five teenagers trying to creep out quietly? Fat chance.”

“We’re gonna die before we graduate. Mum is going to kill me,” Ron wailed dramatically, giving up on his investigation. “Maybe if we-”

A knock sounded from the door.

“Hide!” Draco instructed, throwing insults at them under his breath as he moved around the room.

“Where?” Harry asked, looking around. They could shut the doors to the bedroom so Lucius would only see the sitting area, but they’d still be in plain sight.

“The bathroom!” Draco said, pointing towards one of the doors on the side of the room.

“But-”

“Not now, Harry,” Hermione sighed, grabbing him by the arm. She practically dragged him into the bathroom while the others followed closely behind them before shutting the door.

“We’re still pretty obvious,” Harry pointed out, a sense of dread filling him. Maybe it was time to accept their fate.

“The shower,” Pansy suggested. “It’s mostly hidden by the wall, so they’d have to actually go in to see us.”

“Are we going to fit?” Harry asked worriedly. They were 5 teenagers, after all.

“Draco has a large bathroom,” Blaise shrugged, stepping in. They could have stood, but who knew how long they were going to be in there. So that’s how they found themselves practically pressed against one another - shoulder to shoulder - with their knees drawn up on the dry, shower floor.

“Father!” They could hear Draco’s voice through the walls.

“You’d think that the door would be thicker, all things considered,” Ron snorted before promptly getting smacked upside the head by his girlfriend.

“Quiet,” she hissed. “If we can hear them, there’s a chance that they can hear us.”

“Maybe we should just come out and confess,” Harry said, feeling himself start to panic. He hasn’t even asked Draco out yet, and his parents would already hate him.

Fuck, this was not how he wanted their first meeting to go.

“Are you mad?” Blaise asked him, his voice a harsh whisper. “Draco’s dad might actually kill us. There’s no way I’m stepping out there.”

“Same here,” Ron shrugged, looking at him apologetically.

“But at least if we just admit that we’re here, we wouldn’t look as bad as we do getting caught like this,” Harry pointed out.

“Trying to make a good impression, are you?” Pansy scoffed. If only she knew how true that statement rang.

“Shut up,” Harry said instead. “I don’t want to die.”

“Well, we’re going to die anyway because-”

“-Tell me honestly, Draco,” the older Malfoy’s voice drawled through the walls. “Is there someone else in here?”

-————————————————-

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Also based on true events JFJHSBF Thank you for reading <3

#hp #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #based on true events JHBSFJS #voldemort died the first time #request

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rokkr-witness · 4 years

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Primordial Thurs: Ymir and Surtr

So this project started because quarantine has been keeping my kindred apart, so we’ve been doing zoom meetings to discuss some interesting themes in Norse Mythology. I haven’t cited all the references used for these but I hope I got enough of them. This particular work is going to talk about several important concepts, them being Chaos, creation and Destruction and how those concepts are represented by the Primordial Thurs Ymir and Surtr. I will say I’m not a scholar, and a good portion of this is UPG, take it or leave it.

Ymir

Ymir is the first of the giants in Norse mythology, he dates back to the primal times before Odin, Thor or any other God existed. He is created when the fires of muspelheim meet the ice and rime of niflheim in the ginnungagap, the void. He’s representative of the first shared Ancestor, but also the first “consciousness” to come out of Chaos. When referring to consciousness we do not mean sentience here. Thematically, Ymir is the personification of the chaos before creation, which is also depicted as the impersonal void of Ginnungagap. Both Ymir and Ginnungagap are ways of talking about limitless potential that isn’t actualized, that hasn’t yet become the particular things that we find in the world around us. His name means Screamer so connect that to birth, not just the birth of the womb but also the birth of the universe (the Big Bang).

According to Snorri Sturlson Ymir was suckled by the cow Audhumla for his nourishment, but whether this is a Christian literary device or not has been debated. It may be that Audhumla, who also licked Buri out of the ice, was introduced as a way to present a dichotomy in the myths, that being Buri, Ancestor of Odin as Good and lawful, and Ymir, primordial chaos as inherently Bad and therefore deserving of destruction. But we’ll get to that.

When he slept, several other giants were conceived asexually in Ymir’s hermaphroditic body, and spontaneously sprang from his legs and the sweat from his armpits. A man and a woman grew under his arms and a six headed son under his foot. Þrúðgelmir is the name of one son, who’s son Bergelmir is the only one to survive the ocean of Ymir’s blood after his slaying. This is accounted in the book Gylfaginning in the Prose Edda.

There is some suggestion that Buri might have been one of the beings created from Ymir’s body, and by extension so Bor and Bestla, the parents of Odin. I actually prefer this interpretation, because it removes the dichotomy of jotun = bad because they are inherently evil and the descendents of Buri, imposed(cultivated) order, are inherently good. With all beings originating from Ymir you have one source for creation and one "race" for lack of a better term, and it changes the designation of Aesir, Jotunar and vanir to a more tribal understanding, that being the family or group we choose to belong to.

Anyway, Ymir’s son Þrúðgelmir appears in the poem Vafþrúðnismál from the Poetic Edda. When Odin (speaking under the assumed name Gagnrad) asks who was the eldest of the Æsir or of the giants in bygone days, Vafþrúðnir answers:

"Uncountable winters before the earth was made,

then Bergelmir was born,

Thrudgelmir was his father,

and Aurgelmir his grandfather."

—Vafþrúðnismá

Odin, Vili and Ve, The divine brothers then slew Ymir and fashioned the realm of midgard from his corpse. His flesh made the earth, his bones the mountains, his blood the oceans and his brains the clouds. It is also during this creation that the Gods establish Utangard and Innangard by giving the giants the shoreline and using Ymir's eyelashes to build a wall between the rest of the Cosmos and Midgard- the realm of future humans. Through this the tribe of the Aesir, imposes the order necessary for life(as we understand it) to thrive and begins the push and pull between that order and the primordial chaos of the Giants. A push and Pull that ultimately culminates in Ragnarok.

Surtr

And that brings us to Surtr. If Ymir can be considered your primordial Rime, or Frost Thurs, then Surtr is your primordial Fire Thurs. Likewise if Ymir represents the chaos of creation, Surtr represents the Chaos of destruction and the completion of the natural life cycle. Because he is associated with the south (Muspelheim), Surtr is then associated with the idea of fire, which is common in Icelandic Norse mythology. It can be argued that the figure of Surtr was, at the very least, a local figure given over to Iceland’s relatively tumultuous volcanic geography that was incorporated in part into the larger Nordic cycle by Icelandic-born writers, but this theory has never been proven.

His Consort is Sinmora. Less is known of this figure than Surtr himself, save she possesses/is the guardian of the legendary weapon Lævateinn*. Some theories suggest Sinmora as the Same entity as Hela, but personally I find they hold very little water.

Surtr is demonized as a malevolent antagonist to the gods, positioning himself against the world as a whole. And, I want to dispense with the idea, immediately, that Surtr is inherently demonic or otherwise evil. I cannot emphasize this enough.

“If we associate Surtr with the Icelandic writers, an etin with an affinity towards fire and the volcanic landscape of their homeland, then it is easy to see how they could put a greater derogatory emphasis on the being. After all, fire is well attested to being both a savior and a potential threat to civilization, ” Marc, Axe and Plough

It is my understanding that Surtr is in Muspelheim before the worlds are created. Which makes him the perhaps oldest entity in the Northern Pantheon. (excluding some ideas that the Void itself is an entity) Surtr is the lord of Múspellsheimr and the leader of that realm. We do not know when he became the lord of Múspellsheimr, so it is fair to assume that he has always been. That Surtr has always been. This is supported by Muspell, the primordial world of fire, as the primary impetus for the creation of the universe. The interactions between Muspell and Niflheim, within the great void of Ginnungagap was what birthed the universe (Faulkes 1995: 10).

This Idea is one we see regularly, paths of Destruction as paths to rebirth, creation. It is possible that Surtr is a regular arbiter for that rebirth, and has been through the founding and destruction of several universes. What can be gathered from this is something we see regularly in Northern Traditions, the understanding that though things die, life continues, renews and grows.

Natural science does a good way of illustrating Surtr’s importance in this example.

Take Andisols for instance. These are soils that form on volcanic ash and contain volcanic glass and compounds of elements such as Fe, Al and Si. (Ions of those elements, which are released by leaching and weathering of volcanic rock, can form complexes with organic matter; in addition to an andisol’s ability to retain water, this can make for very fertile growing conditions, after it has had the chance to weather, break down and release it´s nutrients. Eruption(destruction), break down, and then growth.

Now let's stop right there for a second. There is very little information on Surtr however there are some conclusions that can be drawn with some mental gymnastics about his role at ragnarok. His role at Ragnarok is to do battle with Freyr, be victorious and cover all the realms with Fire. After Balder will return from Hel and a new cycle of life will begin.

If you look at Ymir as the beginning and Surtr as the end, and both of them in a system of chaotic creation and destruction, then Freyr, the vanic god of fertility and agriculture( one of the ways in which humans mastered the natural world), is the obvious Foe. Freyr represents creation in the system created by Odin Vili and Ve after Ymir’s slaying. To return to the primordial creation you have to remove it, you have to remove everything. And Surtr is the obvious answer to that, an ever present being that sees the same cycle completed over and over. I’d even argue that Balders return to the world of the living is christianized to reflect Christ and maybe a better ending to ragnarok is simply to return to the natural state of the cosmos, Muspelheim in the south, Niflheim in the north and the Void between them.

Conclusion

So i Started this with very little information and so have had to draw a lot of my own conclusions. Some heathens who have also written on this subject, like raven kaldera and his associates, i think over humanize Surtr and by extension Ymir in ways to make the entities more approachable. but i see that for myself as sort of counterproductive. Others like Ljossal Lodursson idk, i just don’t find that his conclusions hold up to my interpretations, that is I don’t support Audumla as an essential part of the cosmos, but that’s my UPG and so i think it’s important to remind everyone that your UPG is yours and you’ll draw your own conclusions through journey work and research. My dissatisfaction with others who follow the path of the jotnar is not a reflection of the validity or quality of their works.

How you choose to incorporate any deity is really up to you.

For myself, I like Ymir for organic inspiration, but I also just sort of feel close to him as I'm a human living on earth, obsessed with the way the universe is held together. If you accept the big bang theory as the scientific beginning of the universe there is a place you can drop ymir in there. Ymir, Screamer, Bang...you get it. I have found if you stare too long at Ymir you sorta fall in and getting out again is rather difficult. I began to feel very unconnected to other parts of my faith, including Loki the longer i stayed trying to connect to Ymir.

Surtr is sorta similar for me. When you want to start over with a clean slate he'd be the one to help you, or rather his is the power you would seek since I'm not certain I could see something omnipresent and everlasting, that is the personification of ultimate entropy as being able to offer conscious help.

I don’t think of them as meeting people or interacting with persons. Try seeing them as simply being, events or states. Powers, elements, eldritch entities beyond sentient consciousness. Like some kind of Norse Jellyfish or giant space Apatosaurus. They just are, they have functions and they are or have fulfilled them.

***

*Lævateinn

Lævateinn is etymologically considered to be a kenning for a sword (Old Norse "damage twig"[1]

Henry Adams Bellows translation:

41. Svipdag spake:

"Now answer me, Fjolsvith, the question I ask,

For now the truth would I know:

What weapon can send Vithofnir to seek

The house of Hel below?"

42. Fjolsvith spake:

"Lævatein is there, that Lopt with runes

Once made by the doors of death;

In Lægjarn's chest by Sinmora lies it,

And nine locks fasten it firm."[3]

Bellows comments that Lægjarn means "Lover of Ill" and, like the name Lopt, refers to Loki

There is some suggestion that the weapon may be the misteltoe used to kill Baldur but this theory has never been proven.