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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

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Patrochilles week 2022 | Day eight theme: Second chances

Summary: Achilles hears from his mother that she cannot see into the moutains, of what he gets upto every day. He thinks back to three years prior, of that fated kiss on the beach, and wonders if there is another chance for him.

@patrochillesweek

Pairing: Achilles x Patroclus

POV: Achilles

It was after we turned twenty.

I went to meet my mother, quietly making my way to the river. I sat under a pomegranate tree, now old and withered with age, and waited for her.

I did not have to wait long. The air went eerily still. The birds stopped singing, as if a predator was on the loose. I leaned against the bark and closed my eyes. I smelled her before I even saw her; seawater laced with dark brown honey. I greeted her. "Hello, mother."

My mother stood there, cold and unmoving. "My son," She made no attempt to sit in the shade with me. Such casual attitudes were beneath her. "You are well?"

"I am." When she raised an eyebrow, I stood up, biting back the need to sigh as I did so. "Mountain life is better than I thought it would be. I am very happy here."

She made an hmph sound. It was something she did whenever she was displeased. "Happy with that mortal, you mean."

Mother and her baseless hatred for Patroclus. I fought back the urge to sigh again. "I am mortal too, mother."

She did not like that. She did not like being reminded that her child was part of a race she despised. "That is different." Words came out sounding like waves crashing over reefs, hoarse and jarring to the ear. "For you could still be a god, if you are great enough."

Here we go again. Mother and her dreams for me to attain immortality and join the ranks of the divine. She does not even know how it could be achieved. The higher Gods were mercurial and could say no, just because they felt like it, and mother was just a Nereid. Someone of little consequence to the higher Gods, not that I would point that out to her. "Yes. That is why I train every day." I said instead. I did not want to get into an argument on such a beautiful day.

She studied me, then continued. "What goes on in Pelion besides your training?"

That question, of what goes on with my life on Pelion. Whenever she visits me, she asks about everything that went on in the mountain. It was strange, I thought. My mother could see everything. She was a goddess.

Or perhaps, she could not see all as she claimed she did?

"Why do you ask me that?" I asked nonchalantly. "Every time you come here, you ask that question. Why, mother?"

Mother’s eyes flickered for the briefest of moments. "Mother?" I asked again. "Why do you always ask that question of me?"

She refused to answer and stood still, her arms folded across her chest. Understanding dawned on me as my eyes went wide. "You cannot see, can you?" I said as I softly bit on the insides of my cheeks to stop the giddy joy from shining through. "You cannot see what goes on in Pelion?"

"I cannot." She ground out the words, thoroughly displeased that I knew this now. "I cannot see. Many years ago, Chiron placed a spell around the mountain, to protect his students from eyes that should not see."

And if the owners of those eyes that should not see actually wanted to see, they would have to come up the mountain to do it. I gently bit down on my cheeks again to stop a smile from forming. Mother cannot see us. She cannot see me and Patroclus. "Of course, mother." I changed topics, for I could see her displeasure only growing. I did not want her to suddenly decide to send me somewhere else, somewhere Patroclus could not follow. "As for what else I get up to in mountain--"

I tell her. About our fishing and hunting trips, and learning the art of healing from Chiron. I spoke to her about my training, about my learning new fighting skills, and she seemed pleased with my interest in improving myself even more. When the sun was well above our heads, she took her leave of me. I could not get back to the cave fast enough. My mind was going over what she said, over and over again.

She could not see. My mother could not see.

💫 💫 💫

That night, we stayed by the fire for as long as we could. I took up my lyre, Patroclus and Chiron listened. I played a haunting air, my eyes flicking over to Patroclus at every possible moment.

I still remember that day at the beach like it was yesterday. We had just turned seventeen. I talked to him about a new song I was composing. He spoke of a letter from his father. Menoetius had softened somewhat, and sent letters on and off, inquiring after his son. My own father’s reports of Patroclus’ improvements may have helped, no doubt.

We were content to lie there, watching the waves lap against the sand. It was a hot day, we were lazy. We kept talking, all the while this feeling kept creeping up on me. It was there when Patroclus greeted me first thing in the morning, and it was there when he said good night. I would feel it when I would suddenly wake up, after a dream filled with soft hands reaching out to touch me. Whenever I was not around Patroclus, I would grow impatient, counting down the minutes till I could see him again. That feeling compelled me to seek him out, sometimes to the point of my leaping onto his bed and pressing my nose right up to his. I would say, "Good morning," even as he struggled to open his eyes.

It was that same feeling I had that day on the beach. It felt light and sweet, something I dared not give a name to. Patroclus looked to me, his eyes filled with a nervous anticipation. I watched him, my eyes going to his lips, my throat going dry. That feeling grew and grew, until he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

It felt so clumsy and awkward. I had no idea what I was doing. He did not either. It was still so sweet, and my hand found itself in his hair. His lips were soft and tasted of the figs we had been eating earlier. Desire started to take root, and fear as well. I feared the repercussions, of what would happen if word got out. What would people say? What would my parents say?

When he pulled away, fear grew in his eyes, just as it did in mine. I wanted to kiss him again, but I did not, all at the same time. Confusion and fear tore at me. I needed to think. To get away and clear my head, to make sense of what was happening to me. Just as Patroclus reached out, just as he tried to speak, I rose to my feet and ran.

I had never forgiven myself for that, for my running away. Patroclus had to face my mother’s wrath alone. He did not speak to me that night or the next day, when I prepared to leave. I feared I had lost him forever.

Yet he followed me here. He could have stayed with my father, curried his favour, perhaps even been adopted as a second son. Father liked him, it would have been possible, yet he followed me here. Patroclus took a big risk by following me here.

Perhaps I had another chance after all.

Chiron’s head dipped forward as he struggled to stay awake. "Are you tired, Chiron?"

Our mentor managed a sleep smile. "I find that I am." He yawned and settled onto his folded legs. I smiled and stopped playing. "Then we shall leave you to your rest."

He bade us both a good night. Patroclus followed me back into the cave, and we prepared for the night. I went through the rituals of night-time first, then Patroclus. "Mother says she cannot see here," I lay in bed and said it out loud. Patroclus had been washing himself. "What?" He put the soap and towel away, and came back to bed. The pallet felt all the warmer for it.

I looked up to the ceiling, my eyes going over the painted stars, now illuminated by the light of a taper. "Mother cannot see. Something to do with a spell of protection. She cannot see us, what we do, while we are on Pelion."

He went quiet, as did I. Usually I would point at the painted stars, and Patroclus would try to name them. This time there was nothing, just this dizzying anticipation. I turned to my side, silently, waiting. Finally, Patroclus turned, his eyes resting on mine. "Do you--" I swallowed, fearing what I was about to say would put him to flight. "Do you remember our kiss?"

He nodded. "Are you angry that I ran away? Left you alone on that beach?" I asked.

"No." Patroclus seemed to pause. "I should not have done it. It was improper of me and--"

"Well, what if I told you I liked it? That I wanted more of it?" My cheeks flushed as I took that plunge over the precipice. I had to take that risk and find out if he still felt the way he did three years ago. "You are playing with me," he said quietly.

"I am not." I said. "What if I told you I liked it, I like you. What would you say then?"

He went quiet before saying, "I will always be by your side, for as long as you would have me."

We lay there, looking at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, I took another plunge and leaned in, till my lips pressed against his.

Neither of us regretted it.

#patrochilles week 2022 #patrochilles week #patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #the song of achilles #fanfiction #creative writing #writing #writeblr #writing challenge #a world of whimsy writes

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aanasttasia · 8 months

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Dinkey Creek Wilderness, California

Cliff Lake

Tuesday, August 1st, 2023 4:44p.m.

“I hate my birthday”-- a mantra that slowly over the years became a tradition alongside every birthday card that I could only ever read when I was finally alone, as I anticipated the flood of emotions that were waiting just behind my eyes; every birthday cake that shimmered with one more candle than the last till it eventually became more convenient to simply use numbered candles so that cakes stopped shining brighter and brighter with every new year that you lived; every birthday gift we silently hoped for that proclaimed beneath it’s materialistic superficiality the gift we all truly sought out: the gift of intimacy – “I see you. I know you.” Does anyone truly know me though? Do I want that? Of course. It’s a gift I would climb mountains for, but one I am too scared to open my heart for.

“I hate my birthday”-- a phrase murmured in the silence of the night as I stared at the shadows on my ceiling and reminisced on every memory that has not yet faded with the next small part of me that inevitably dies each year. When did my birthday become a day of mourning, a far cry from the celebration I remember as a kid? When did the smile on my face turn into a pain in my chest every year that I am awakened with hugs and innocent surprises? At what age had birthdays turned magic into dread? What happened to the girl I once knew who never worried whether her existence was palatable for the world, who never hesitated to celebrate her own life? I can’t remember. Those memories died alongside her.

“I hate my birthday” – I say as my face is suddenly shoved into the pool of every choice I have ever made; every interaction, every achievement, every heartbreak, every miracle, and every regret. I stared at the reflections of my own story: all the times I had not told a boy I loved him out of fear that my world would cave in if it meant that I should not love me if he did not love me either; every pain I had stumbled through as I pretended that the feelings and emotions that were seeping through every crack in my heart did not exist in the slightest; every laugh I shared with family and friends that left my face sore and my brain high off of endorphins; every time that I had abandoned a part of myself to make just a little bit more room in my heart for someone else who never had the intention of making themselves at home; every heartbreak and every discomfort that forced me to grow in ways I never believed I could.

“I hate my birthday” – the thought floods my mind as I watch the light from the candles dance on my mother’s face, how it contours the smile beneath her cheekbones and highlights the tears in her eyes as she patiently waits for me to make my wish. Did I turn out the way she wished I would when she had held me in her arms for the first time? When my mother says she sees so much of herself in me as she looks at my face only moments after quietly tearing down every part of herself behind tired eyes, is she proud of the woman I have become? Should I be proud of the woman she sees in me?

“Why do I hate my birthday?” – a question I waited for an answer to, as I hesitated to blow out the candles that illuminated my father’s face, softening away years of pain and joy when I suddenly remembered the many nights I had spent crying myself to sleep as a child after learning that my mother and father were not immortals, and that one day I would have to walk the earth without them to tell my stories to or to hold me when the world felt a bit too heavy. Not only do I get older with every birthday I celebrate, but so do those around me: a crude reminder that my capabilities do not extend beyond the biological world, and most certainly not between the gears of this universe’s time wheel.

“Why do I hate my birthday?” As I watch the waves of the lake caress the shore in ways my soul has always craved to be touched, I ponder on this question. Perhaps the answer to this question is that I have created an enigma out of myself. How can you celebrate the birth of someone you abandoned long ago when you were told that you were too much for the world. How can one expect to share such a level of intimacy when one has subjected themselves to an emotional isolation. A celebration of one’s existence becomes counterintuitive. I believe I might find this answer somewhere along this road of reunion with myself, where the pain is no longer in my chest but in my cheekbones and lips from a day's worth of laughter and genuine smiles alongside the wishes of “Happy Birthday.”

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laufeyamp · 2 years

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Collision

SUMMARY. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- being thrown in mid air wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it did teach Druig a valuable lesson. How many more millennia does he has to waste?

RELATED DRABBLES. ༊*·˚ Pledge, Perhaps, Collision.

PAIRING. druig x eternal!gender neutral reader WORD COUNT. 1.522k

THIS WORK CONTAINS fluff, slight angst (??)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

‘Fatigue’ or any similar phrase was never an adjective you’d use to describe your emotional and physical state as imparting your extensive knowledge to others has always been your passion. It brought a sense of gratification and euphoria, knowing that you’re helping millions across the world persistently and efficiently. But here you are nonetheless, heaving a frazzled sigh whilst gathering your educational materials that assisted your infinite seminars. The group of late adolescents who attended had left for moments by now, emptying the conference room you’ve rented with an economical price. And for some inexplicable and obscure reason, you were reminded of this charismatic image of him once more which imprinted in your mind. It has been two days since you’d seen him from afar, the same day he nearly didn’t survive during their succeeded attempt in stopping the Celestial’s emergence according to Sersi. You stayed silent upon hearing such news and subsequently responded with a simple hum, refusing to appear inquisitive regarding his current condition. It was a truly foolish and ridiculous act of yours which you’ve been taking blame into, tormenting yourself with it relentlessly. But how could you not behave so after centuries of waiting, grasping onto that glimpse of hope that he’d return to you once you’ve achieved the foremost version of yourself? Immense perplexity stirred with the slightest hint of rage was what crammed your chest. You’ve had no more valid reasons left to defend his incomprehensible absence which swelled your heart with despondency and anguish, leading you to second-guess if he’s worthwhile. This triumph and international prestige obtained after ages of laborious effort was nothing compared to the seven millennia you’d spent close to him. If only you could rewind the clock and own the opportunity you’d neglected.

“I left something behind,” this low-pitched voice sounded vaguely familiar with the owner’s thick accent lacing each word, his tone almost apologetic. There weren’t any stationaries, papers or bags obliviated and you were fairly certain that none of the participants could have such a thick accent from your interaction earlier and required information retrieved through your online biodata forms. Intrigued by the male’s identity and true intention, you abandoned the thoughts that had been swarming in your mind and turned to greet him in an instant. It was him. Silence enveloped the room momentarily as you lip-synced his name in disbelief with puckered brows, incapable of distinguishing reality and fantasy which was putatively distinct. Is this another one of the long-awaited dreams that paid you regular visits when the night falls?

He took his own sweet time to observe your unchanged features with this respectful distance in person, albeit it wasn’t his first time in five hundred years. It’s a little secret of his to attend your seminars and shield you from harm in the facade of different strangers weekly, especially during the early centuries when no regulations were established to ensure your safety from all sorts of deadly threats due to your avowed immortality. It infuriated him to witness the humans treat you with such callousness, exploiting you for further research on everlasting life and some even wounding you for their absurd misbeliefs. There were so many occasions when he nearly failed to restrain himself, almost making his reappearance out of nowhere. But how could he do so when you were striving for your goal independently, hardly any paces away from your well-earned prosperity and self-confidence? “I left you behind five centuries ago,” he rephrased his previous statement remorsefully although inmost he knows that he’s never left, steadily dwindling in the distance with graceful steps.

Druig came to a standstill, ceasing every movement produced by the bones and muscles of his lower limbs which ushered him closer and closer to you. It felt extremely requisite and befitting for him to mimic your actions with the manifest clip from his memory, repeating the same scene which had him experience his devastating heartbreak. And with your fingers interlocked, the pad of his thumb rubbed against your knuckles in the corresponding hushed demeanour, remaining the striking distance to avoid transcending your comfort zone. The warmth of his reassuring hold did it’s magic, dissolving your incertitude and mistrust towards your lover miraculously forthwith. Regardless of the flare of ecstasy intoxicating you upon learning that he’s never forgotten and he cares, an utter of complaint rimmed with dissatisfaction still passed your lips. “You kept me waiting.”

“I know, and I’m truly sorry,” he’d anticipated you to solicit a fair elucidation respecting the eons he’s delayed which is understandable, truthfully. “I just..” Druig sputtered for the accurate phrase to summarise his bundle of emotions from several languages he’s learnt throughout his eternal life, whether it’s ancient or modern. His yearn and adoration towards you was unconditional and sempiternal, his heart has no room left to accept anyone else. It was the mortifying insecurities primarily that arises within him and the fear of terminating your fluorishing profession with his return forbye, which hinders and disheartens him, resulting another futile attempt at your reunion due to his procrastination. It’s idiotic and witless of him, indeed.

“I just thought you didn’t need me, I...” his head hung low in abashment, loathing how easily he'd been influenced by such erroneous assumptions and his unnecessary frets. “I thought you’d be better off without me.” It wasn’t just his negative suppositions and scepticism that impaired you, but his unprecedented countenance of dubiety and self-accusation which was immensely soul-shattering, violently rending your heart to shreds. He had never lacked confidence and he has an abiding faith in your profound bond that is able to overcome all obstacles faced, including distance and time which were simply numbers. In fact, his credible reassurances and chivalrous gestures were what had your entirety thoroughly entrusted to him. It’s this unlabelled relationship without any unequivocal and indubitable answer or confrontation after a prolonged separation that deludes the both of you, originating doubts none of you had mustered up the courage to resolve.

“I love you, y/n,” he confessed genuinely, sincerity and fondness written in his truthful pair of eyes that was fixated on yours. “But Ajak is right, we were meant to dwell in different worlds-” ”She was wrong about something,” interruption wasn’t something you’d taken pleasure in doing or frequently did, nevertheless you've grown impatient and you’re unwilling to waste another minute listening to the gibberish that kept you apart. “I wouldn’t be me right now without you.” And with each letter representing your enduring fidelity articulated precisely, your feet brought you further whilst your palm found it’s place on his temple, fingers still intertwined with his.

Perhaps it was inappropriate and improper of him, but he often ponders how you’d feel and savour in his lips during such intimate moments, if you’d taste anything like the basic tastes of the tongue, or maybe the variety of snack flavours or exotic fruits he offers you. He’d been the one initiating the compassionate kiss, guiding your movements adeptly in his furtive imagination despite being inexperienced in actual fact. But lord, you were a magnificent bag teeming with the most flabbergasting surprises, whether it’s the extraordinary ideas revolving in your marvellous mind or your unpredictable solutions to exigent challenges. Who knows what kissing you would have been like? The quick peek he snuck at your lips that were merely inches away from his and his tongue darting out briefly to moisten his lips was impossible to be overlooked. The curiosity and hunger that dawned on his eyes were tremendously apparent and intense that had you deliberating why didn’t he devour you promptly with your consent. His cheeks had gone a tint of bright pink, sheepish of his unconcealable desires that may have been offensive or disapproved. When he was on the verge of clearing his throat and backing away from this awkwardness, you shifted closer to his warmth at a painfully laggard pace that was almost imperceptible. The flutter within him intensified at every inch erased by your approaching frame, his respiratory system struggling to catch up with his palpitating heartbeat as his triggered sweat glands under the layers of his skin started secreting sweat to his palms. It must have been humiliatingly evident because he felt your thumb lightly graze against his, followed with the delicate claim of his lips with yours at last and your expert fingers entangling themselves in his neatly brushed hair like it were your abode. He was inebriated by your fragrance which he inhaled up close like it was his personal inhaler, relieving his tightened muscles around his airway that seemed to be the main factor of his rapid breathing. It only took him a couple more seconds to adjust to this new sensation, for his arm clasp on your waist tenderly and relish his first kiss in this tranquil space. No interference or fear of being seen, just you and him.

And as if the rhythm of your lips could enchant cataclysmic curses, your distinct worlds collided the instant your lips were attached, dissipating the borders that made vain endeavours over the past millennia in sundering your infrangible link.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Cultivated-to-Immortality post-canon where cultivation in modern day is mostly mysterious and many doubt it's real - and then WWX gets a cooking show...

“I’m going to murder him,” Jiang Cheng said blankly.

He wasn’t even angry or frustrated or any of the things he normally was when he said something like that. That would require actually reacting to -

What he just saw.

With his own eyes.

For real.

“You can’t do that,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was curled into a tiny little ball on their on-the-verge-of-breaking-down couch – modern things were really crap. The thing couldn’t be older than what, thirty or forty years, and it was already useless, and Nie Huaisang wasn’t helping matters by crying tears of laughter into the worn-out cushions like he was right now. “He’s immortal, remember? We’re all immortal.”

“Immortal in the sense that we won’t die of old age,” Jiang Cheng said. “I can still kill him.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jiang Cheng admitted. He was pretty sure they’d established that back in Wei Wuxian’s first life, forget his subsequent resurrection or when they all unexpectedly achieved immortality. “But I could definitely break his legs. He’d heal from that quick enough.”

“The day you break his legs will be the same day you do it to Jin Ling,” Nie Huaisang said wisely. “And I know you wouldn’t do that to our beloved junior squad.”

“You really need to stop calling them juniors, they’re all married with children and grandchildren a half-dozen times over already, and anyway stop getting away from the main point, which is this – this – this travesty.”

“It’s not a travesty,” Nie Huaisang said, pretending towards solemnity. Jiang Cheng didn’t know why he bothered, it wasn’t like they hadn’t spent centuries together by now on account of immortality being a little lonely and them not liking anyone else who’d reached immortality enough to want to spend that sort of time with them. “It’s a cooking show.”

“It can be a cooking show and a travesty! It’s a cooking show run by Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng growled. His stomach hurt just remembering the many times he’d been suckered into trying something because this time I’ve really got it down, I promise, you’ll like it! “Of course it’s a travesty. Did you see the set up he has going on? He has an entire wall of hot peppers!”

“Hmm, good point,” Nie Huaisang said. “You’re right. Something needs to be done about this.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

“I’ll send him some peppers from our garden,” Nie Huaisang decided. “I have that new varietal breed that we’ve been working on, extra hot; he’ll love it.”

“Don’t you dare send him the Zidian pepper without letting me try it first,” Jiang Cheng said pointedly. “It’s mine. He only gets leftovers once I’ve decided it’s complete. Anyway, are you telling me that you don’t think that this - this - this thing is a disgrace?”

They both looked at the screen, where the words ‘CHEF CULTIVATOR’ had appeared in large letters.

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “I rather like the conceit of it – the mysterious food-obsessed Chairman kidnapping the heirs of the various cultivation clans...it’s all very historically accurate, at least?”

“One, Wen Ruohan wasn’t a Chairman, he was a tyrannical warlord who made all our lives absolutely miserable. Two, if that set is supposed to be the Nightless City, why is it so dark, and what’s with all the lava everywhere? I’m not even going to touch on the rock chair thing that no cultivator who values the state of their ass would ever sit on -”

“I don’t know about that,” Nie Huaisang said, looking down at their shitty couch with a exaggerated thoughtful look.

Jiang Cheng ignored him. He didn’t want to go couch-shopping again. It’d only been a few decades!

“And three,” he said, soldiering on, “I feel the need to point out that the cultivation clans were not named ‘Spicy’, ‘Barbecue’, ‘Vegetarian’, and ‘Expensive Fusion’.”

“But he’s got the coloring right and everything! And it’s really funny to see a chef outfit done up in that awful Jin gold color...”

Jiang Cheng put his head in his hands.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nie Huaisang said, completely unable to resist bursting out in occasional bouts of giggling. “This is exactly like the time the Wen sect forced all of us to attend their indoctrination camp. Exactly like! You’re just misremembering.”

“I’m pretty sure that I’d remember being forced to compete in some sort of absurd cooking competition with mystery ingredients.”

“Would’ve been nice if we had.” At Jiang Cheng’s incredulous expression, Nie Huaisang shrugged. “Better than listening to Wen Chao talk, no?”

“…well, yes,” Jiang Cheng admitted. “Still, the whole thing seems a bit much. Cultivation is now state-regulated - by which we mean mostly banned from public knowledge - and our sects are all shrouded in mystery...this does seem to lower the tone a bit.”

“Like you care about tone.”

Jiang Cheng, who’d declared that he’d stopped giving a fuck sometime around the eleventh century, had to concede that.

“How’d he get the whole thing approved by the government?” he asked instead. “I thought they censored anything to do with modern-day cultivation.”

“I don’t think they’re that concerned about him spilling actual cultivation secrets on his cooking show.”

Jiang Cheng huffed, not wanting to admit that Nie Huaisang had a point. At any rate, the commercials were over and the show was continuing; he had better things to do than listen to Nie Huaisang talk, like watch the television.

After a few moments, his face began to turn purple.

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang said, and buried his face back into the pillows. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“I cannot believe him,” Jiang Cheng said. “I can’t – he can’t –”

“Now, now,” Nie Huaisang said between laughter so hard that he was hiccupping. “Be nice. If Wei Wuxian is the despotic Chef Cultivator and - oh this is terrible - Grandmaster of Demonic Cooking, that is on the hunt for a chef worthy of being his successor by forcing teams to challenge his stable of in-house chefs, it only makes sense that the ‘challenger’ team would be protected by the – by the –”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes. “Lightly-Braised Lord?”

“That!”

“I would say that I can’t believe Hanguang-jun agreed to this, except he hasn’t said ‘no’ to Wei Wuxian in centuries,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly. There was a reason he refused to live with them. “This is a disgrace.”

“Accurate, though!” Nie Huaisang said, grinning. “That’s a very mild flavor of cooking, very appropriate for Lan Wangji.”

“I think you mean tasteless.”

“I mean, Lan Wangji is that, too, at least when it comes to Wei-xiong”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t exactly say that that was wrong.

They continued watching.

“Oh no,” Nie Huaisang said a few moments later. “The Ghost Pepper General. Poor Wen Ning!”

“It doesn’t fit,” Jiang Cheng said with a sniff. “He has no flavor profile.”

Maybe he was getting more into this than he would be willing to admit.

...he wasn’t going to admit it out loud anyway.

Nie Huaisang sniggered. “I hope Wei-xiong isn’t the judge.”

Jiang Cheng stared at the screen. “I still can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“I love it,” Nie Huaisang said. He was now scrolling on his phone. “The internet agrees with me, apparently. It’s a hit!”

“It figures.”

Their phones gave a chime at the same time, indicating a message on their group chat.

“Huh,” Nie Huaisang said. “That was the notable Chef Cultivator himself.”

“Oh, I bet it was,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, making no move to reach for his own phone. “What does he want? To apologize?”

“No, to offer us walk-on roles in the event he gets renewed for a second season.”

“Absolutely not,” Jiang Cheng said at once. “I refuse to be known as the Sandwich Shengshou or whatever he comes up with.”

Nie Huaisang dissolved into giggles. “Oh no. He would, too!...I wonder what I’d be?”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You’d be – the Saltshaker. Obviously.”

“Oh noooooooo…”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wen ning #my fic #my fics #complete and utter crack #I feel like I should apologize #oneiriad #to be clear this is shamlessly based off the original Iron Chef show

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xaharadesert · 3 years

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Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI - Headcanon Pt 1

Arcana Characters (Julian, Portia, Lucio) x MC

A/N: This one is another request from the lovely @firefly-child! The premise is pretty much exactly what the title of this post entails— an immortal MC who’s first lover (the LI of your choosing) is reincarnated every time they die! It takes about 20 or so years for MC to find them every time they’re reincarnated, and they have no memory of their past lives. This time, they’ve met in Vesuvia, and LI is about to find out the whole truth! For the sake of continuity, MC is the “never-aging” kind of immortal, and can die. This is set after they completely regain their memories, probably a couple years after the main plot.

Also, thank you for everyone who has been patient about my absence! I lose motivation easily, and with my summer reading assignment finally arriving, I was pretty preoccupied. Actual school is starting up soon as well, and seeing as this is my final year of grade school, I’ll likely be really busy. Regardless, this is my second to last request in my inbox, even though I’ve divided it into two parts to hopefully motivate me. Please feel free to send in a request, and please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

TW: mentions of death

❤️Julian❤️

Okay, so magic in general is something that Julian had always been skeptical about

But immortality? That’s a whole new level of disbelief

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, that’s just… a bit much for him to comprehend all at once

It would take a while for him to come to terms with it, but he warms up to the idea faster if you’re the type of person to tell stories about your past adventures

As someone who has traveled around the world himself, hearing new perspectives on the old folk tales he had heard during his adventures certainly opens his eyes to new possibilities

When he realizes that your knowledge is probably far greater than any other living beings he would be relentless in asking every question he could possibly think of

Even if you never actually bothered to learn much about any particular subject in your past, even a small scrap of seemingly inconspicuous information could lead to a major breakthrough (or so Julian claims)

So imagine his surprise when you add on the fact that Julian himself used to have the same knowledge and experiences himself

Again, the idea that reincarnation was part of the cycle of life for ordinary mortals was… a lot to process

If coming to terms with your immortality was hard for him, this would be near impossible

He doesn’t mean to offend you, but are you sure that he’s a reincarnation? What if you’re simply projecting your grief and creating a delusion to cope with your loss? Again, he doesn’t ask these questions to offend you, he just can’t accept the fact that he had lived previous lives

Out of all the LIs, Julian would be the most likely to reject the idea of being a reincarnation of your first love

Once again, it wasn’t out of malevolence, he just couldn’t understand— there were too many questions to ask

Was every human reincarnated? Would you be reincarnated if you died? But you did die, and you were brought back, so how did that happen? How did you manage to continue finding him every lifetime? If he looked the same as he did in his original life, how come he had never come across his own adventures or discoveries in some book?

Another, more malicious voice in his head asked another question— were you really in love with him? Or were you in love with the person you had expected him to be?

The two of you would need quite a few heart to hearts to sort through these questions and feelings, although you may not have an answer to every one

In the end, Julian might never completely accept the fact that he was a reincarnation of your first love (seeing as he had to memories to prove it), but it didn’t make him love you any less

The two of you would be happy together for as long as he would live, and then you would be happy together in his next life, whether he believed it or not

🧡Portia🧡

Going back to what I’ve said in previous posts about an immortal MC, Portia is 100% of the mindset that your immortality is the Coolest! Thing!! Ever!!!

She has no trouble believing you about that part, because honestly, the more magic surrounds her, the happier she is

A large part of her had always wanted as much magic in her life as possible, even if Julian had always insisted there was no such thing, and every time you revealed a bit more of your abilities to her, she only seemed to become more excited

She loves hearing about your past, especially any magical adventures you may have gone on

And when you finally reveal to her that she’s a reincarnation of your first lover?

She is beyond ecstatic

Of course, her first question is about whether or not she had magic in one of her past lives, and if so, can you please teach it to her again?

She wants to know everything about herself and her past lives with you, as long as you’re willing to tell her

Portia, as someone who firmly believes in soulmates, thinks that yours is the greatest and most epic love story ever now, thank you very much

In all honesty, after finding out that she’ll be reincarnated once she dies, she becomes a bit more reckless, so you’ll need to remind her that even though her soul will always return, her memories won’t

She tries to be a bit more careful after that

Emphasis on tries

There are a couple of moments when she feels sad that she can’t fully recall her past with you

She feels as though the two of you will always be a bit out of sync, seeing as you will always know more about her than she does of you

You’ll need to try your best to help her sort through these feelings, because she may try to simply repress them otherwise

But even with occasional doubts, Portia is thrilled to know that she has the most magical soulmate to ever exist

💛Lucio💛

Lucio wouldn’t doubt your immortality for a second, and probably wouldn’t wait any more than that before announcing it to everyone he met

Everyone had to know that you were the most magical, most amazing, most brilliant person to ever exist

He would not hesitate to tell grand stories about your adventures to anyone who would listen, often describing the two of you together in battle

You would have to gently remind him that no, most of the stories he told were not true

You’ll have to forgive him for that, he may have gotten a bit carried away with the excitement of having an immortal partner

However, this won’t stop him from aggrandizing whatever tales you do tell

It doesn’t matter how exciting or boring your life has been, when he repeats what you’ve told him to others, he always makes everything seem infinitely more wondrous than it actually was

Now, you will have had to wait a bit before telling him any more, seeing as he’s a bit overexcitable, so it may be quite a while before you continue on to tell him that he’s a reincarnation of your first love

Now that? That makes him short-circuit a bit

Obviously he had always known that he was amazing and incredible and the best at everything— but now you’re telling him that he can return from the dead?

You’ll have to remind him that no, that’s not quite how it works, because he forgets his past lives whenever he’s brought back

He has the same soul, but he’s not necessarily the same person

This seems to disappoint him a bit, but once you reassure him that you’ll love him in every lifetime, he seems to perk up

Of course you would love him, he’s perfect no matter who he is

He wants you to tell him everything you know about who he was in the past

You’ll probably have to be a bit selective about what you say though, seeing as his pride is more easily wounded than he’s willing to admit

Lucio especially loves to hear about the good things he’s done, his more selfless acts

Knowing that he used to be a good person makes him feel as though redemption is more achievable, although he’d probably never admit that out loud

He’s not one to be insecure about how your current relationship compares to your previous ones— he’s confident in the magic of soulmates, and that the two of you are a perfect match in any lifetime

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Sacrifice Part 3: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: everything is just out of reach.

wc: 1.7k

tw: none (semi-smut will be coming soon! I just wanted a soft moment for our little protagonist who has been through so much)

masterlist

You have until sundown.

Without Geto or Gojo around, things are quiet. No one comes to visit. It’s just you, Clymentestra, Helen, Serena, Danai, and Ariadne wandering around or making small talk in the alcoves of the Temple, while you wait for the sun to sink below the sky and bring you immortality. The Temple... That’s what you decided to call it. Cly called it something like “The Everlasting Residence of His Holiness, Geto Suguru, The Dragon God of blah blah blah...”, but saying “the Temple” was much easier for you and your brain to handle.

You discovered the following interesting rooms in your snooping session earlier: a set of bathrooms that were exactly identical to each other on opposite ends of a hallway, a room filled to the brim with books that you couldn’t read, a locked door that lead to a dungeon (you suspected), and another room filled with portraits of beings you didn’t know. Well, except Megumi. Megumi was in there, looking just like he did when you met him the day before. Boring.

Now, you’re just waiting on someone to come and find you to tell you that Geto is back, or that lunch is ready. Whichever comes first. But as you wait, thoughts of your impending transfer from mortal to immortal cloud your mind. Would every day be like this? Gossip with the others, wait for Geto to command you around, then sleep?

Is that what eternal life held for you?

Your train of thought is carried away on the wind when you see something blue and green winding its way down from the sky and into the field in front of the temple, followed by a white dragon.

Gojo… and…? You consider running down to the field to greet them, but your feet won’t move. Clymenestra doesn’t come to fetch you, so it’s not an urgent matter, you assume. Or she’s keeping you hidden, your mind whispers, and you remember the interaction from the day before:

“Don’t go blabbing your mouth to your stupid father, either. Geto would prefer to keep her under wraps for now.”

Did this have anything to do with your lack of immortality? And why is Geto so hell-bent on you becoming immortal, anyway? You ponder upon all of this as you toss open the doors to your chambers and walk down the left hallway, towards the dining hall. On the way there, you pass the locked door again, and for a moment, you press your ear to the wood to see if you can hear anything inside.

Nothing.

You straighten up, then enter the dining hall moments later, coming face to face with Gojo, who is sitting across from a pink-haired youth. “Oh,” Gojo stands, and smiles tightly, his eyes darting to the doors behind you. “Wrong room, darling. The kitchen is back there,” he prods, pushing you out of the dining room quickly and into the corridor to the kitchen, the youth’s eyes following you.

“Gojo, I have a ques--”

“Can it wait? Listen, you’re not supposed to be out of your rooms right now. And where the hell is Cly?” he hisses, looking about with a raised brow.

“Who is that in the dining room?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Gojo retorts tersely, removing his hand from your arm. “You need to stay in your rooms until Geto comes back. If he knows Yuji saw you, he’d be--”

“Can you at least tell me why Geto wants me to become immortal so badly?”

“No!” Gojo yells, staring at you intensely. “It’s enough that Megumi knows about you. Just do as I say or both of our asses will get hung out to dry, got it?” You shrink away from the angry man and brush past him to go back to your rooms immediately. When you sit on your bed and examine your bruised arm, you wonder why everyone is so secretive. It’s possible that you would glean more information upon your turn from human into immortal, but you can’t wait that long.

Or at least, you don’t want to.

But you’re forced to.

Lunch doesn’t come for another three hours, and by that time, you’ve lost any semblance of an appetite. So when Serena sits the offerings down in front of you, you just turn away and watch the sea tide roll in and out, like the thoughts rolling in and out of your mind.

“Where’s Cly?” you ask, and Selene inhales deeply.

“She’s away. The God of Death has called upon her.” You spin around in your seat, frowning deeply.

“She’s dying?”

“No,” Serena wipes her shaking green hands on her dress, and looks away from you. “His Omnipresence calls upon her from time to time for… entertainment.” By the looks of Serena’s expression, you don’t want to know what she means by that word, nor do you want to ask any further questions.

“Why does Geto allow this?” you whisper, but Serena bites her lip.

“He doesn’t know.” That’s all you need to hear. You turn back around, feeling your emotions stir inside of your stomach. “You should eat something before the ceremony,” she adds, but you shake your head.

“I’m not hungry.”

You fall asleep in that chair, only awakening when you’re lightly tapped on the shoulder by someone behind you. When you look up, you meet the soft eyes of Clymenestra, and you wonder how she’s doing before releasing she’s holding a red and gold robe in her hands.

“Get dressed and meet me in the hallway,” she whispers in the semi-darkness. You take the garment and she leaves the room silently, allowing you to disrobe in private. Once you’re redressed, you exit your room and meet Cly in the hallway.

As you follow her to an unknown destination, your heart pounds wildly in your chest, and you can feel nervousness gnawing away at your resolve. Could you back out of this? Or was it too late? All answers pointed to “too late” as your feet make contact with the warm sand of the beach behind the Temple. There, gathered in the sand, are Geto, Gojo, and the other four women.

Geto is half-clothed and holding a piece of parchment paper - only his lower body is covered in solid black kun pants, but his chest is covered in black swirls and symbols that you can’t decipher. Gojo is dressed similarly, his chest smeared in silver paint, and you wonder what everything stands for. But your curiosity is short-lived when your back is to the sea and Cly is standing behind Gojo, her eyes trained on you.

“Y/n, you were brought to my realm as a sacrifice, but you have accepted my offering of eternal life,” Geto begins, holding up the parchment and reading from it slowly. “As Dragon God and head of all things in this realm, I bequeath this gift to you.” He then hands you the parchment paper, and you accept it tentatively, wondering what to do next.

“Read it,” Gojo coughs, and your mouth dries up. When you look to Cly for help, she presses her lips together and nods at you, encouraging you to go on.

But you can’t.

“I can’t read,” you croak softly, but it’s too soft, as evidenced by Geto’s confused face.

“I’m sorry. Say that again, y/n.”

“I…” You inhale shakily. “I can’t read.” Everyone’s face goes from confusion to understanding, then trepidation.

“You… can’t read?” Gojo murmurs and Geto blinks in shock.

“Then she can’t…” Cly whispers back.

“The ceremony will be postponed,” Geto announces and takes the parchment from you. “We will have to teach you how to read first.”

_____________________________________________________________

Shame accompanies you as you sit on your bed and watch the others eat. Your body, however, wants to close in on itself and disappear. Food is the last thing on your mind right now.

“My cousin never learned how to read,” Ariadne mentions, pulling her fish apart, and other women echo her sentiments. You know they’re trying to be kind, but it doesn’t achieve the effect they desire at all. It just makes you feel even dumber than before.

Your door swings open a moment later, and Cly walks in, followed by Geto.

“Ladies, His Holiness is requesting the room.” The other women vanish in a mess of giggles and murmurs, leaving you and Geto alone as Clymenestra closes the doors. Geto strolls about in your room for what feels like ages until he stops in front of you in the bed.

“I did not know you couldn’t read.”

“No one does, your Holiness,” you reply, looking to your hands in your lap.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he offers and holds up a book in his right hand. You watch him approach the bed carefully, then sit on the edge, his long black locks obscuring his facial features as he flips through the tome. “I’ll start coming by every evening to help you learn. Clymenestra has offered to help you learn how to write during the day. That way, you’re learning both at the same time.”

“Your Holiness, you are too ki--” Geto places his hand on your leg, looking up at you with his bottomless onyx eyes. You’re stunned into silence by his look - which isn’t one of pity. It’s one of compassion and kindness, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the flickering lamplight.

“Y/n, it is my duty and my honor to help you in this way. You returned something very precious to me, and I think it is only right to give you something just as timeless.”

“Did you get an answer from the Rain God?” you ask, and Geto drops his eyes.

“Yuta is displeased with your city for many reasons. He has demanded to speak with you personally about atonement, which is another reason why it is imperative for you to become immortal as soon as possible.”

“And the first reason why…?”

“I cannot answer that right now,” Geto whispers, and then opens the book again, shifting it so you could see the pages. “We should try this one. I like this story; it’s about a mermaid named Mija and a starfish named Nuri.”

You finger the gold-lettered pages carefully, feeling the smooth foil underneath your fingers, and Geto places your finger on the first word, holding your hand gently.

“Once”; the second word: “upon”; the third: “a”; the final word: “time”.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @nostaren @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious @missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sashimeh @ggotgame

#jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader

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morihaus · 3 years

Text

Domina

cw for a vampire talking about mortals like cattle and mentions of molag bal (just his name)

---

Atop a balcony of the Imperial Palace, the young emperor casts her gaze westward, over the canopy of the great forest, off to the dark horizon laid over the Colovian highlands. Past the borders of Cyrodiil, there lays the outlying province of the Empire, Craglorn, home to the distant Nedes never chained. Cities of stone and high towers, traditions older than the Empire of Man, faith older than Saint Alessia herself; Hestra was born to these lands, to the Cyrodiils who came from Colovia to lend aid to their kin, to enlighten them, to fasten and secure their ties to the Empire, and to keep wary watch of the expanding dominion of Verkarth, whose king had spent a century splitting the land in two, harrowing the Nedic allies of the Empire, unopposed in the distant and foreign borderland.

It was this that brought her to power. She became warrior to the faith as many in her family had been before her, as was the Colovian style of the priesthood, and she worked to stymie the tide of this burgeoning power henceforth unknown- as well as the dark creatures who cavorted within its borders, fanning out to the neighboring realms to terrorize the populace. Vampires, werebeasts, monsters of all sorts became the scourge of Craglorn in those days, and the Empire of Cyrodiil did nothing, for what was their concern for the fate of provincials? Nedes who knew nothing of Paravant, or Pelinal, or the One, whose degenerate practices ostracized them from polite Imperial society.

Hestra was one of many in Craglorn and Cyrodiil who saw need for action, but alas, small militias could do nothing but root out loose ends, small cells of the fiends who dogged the western reaches. A coven here, a pack there, but this was to treat the symptoms rather than the sickness, and without organized action against Styriche and his Gray Host itself, nothing would be done.

And for all the dire circumstances, this is why she stands here, amulet of dragon-fire around her neck, looking west with purpose. She has been emperor for but two years, and the Empire is more united than it has been in some time. She is what Cyrodiil needs, a decisive emperor, to cut through the internal bickering of the Order; a conquering emperor, to show no quarter to the enemies of mankind; a common emperor, who understands the plight of her subjects and refuses to rest until justice is done.

With the Empire whole, it prepares for a full-scale invasion of Verkarth, to sunder and destroy the foul abominations commanded by its king.

Something approaches silently from behind her. She is without guard, but not alone, for tonight she is entertaining a particular guest.

"Second thoughts, Emperor?" The pale woman clad in deep red silks asks her with a playful tone. Playful as a cat toys with a mouse, but decidedly playful nonetheless.

Hestra turns to face her, Exarch of the Gray Council, undying vampire, a mistress of the dark forces she plans to destroy. She faces her and sees her ever-so-smug grin, her round face, pale like the moon with dark shadows and painted colors framing her scarlet-orange eyes. She sees her jewelry reflect the light of the night sky, a shimmer along the chain of her belt as her eyes trace her waist, a shine around the swirling ringlets of her arm, up to the clasp of her dress on her shoulder, even a sparkle from the jewel earrings when her long black hair fell just so to make way for the light. "I consider my actions more often than you think. This is why I'm here, Vem."

Vem moves forward to press up against the other woman, lifting a manicured hand to trace her jawline. She is without reverence for the Emperor, but not without admiration, and often she shows her appreciation with touch. "This is why I see such potential in you, fair Hestra." The mortal woman doesn't flinch- but might shiver- at the vampire's chilling touch, and allows it to happen. This close she can see the subtle scaly texture speckling Vem's skin, around her eyes and her bare neck and arms, her eyes fix to this instead of Vem's hypnotic gaze- she wouldn't dare attempt to bewitch the warrior emperor, but she does much without noticing it. "We have more in common than you do with your councilors. They fill their heads with petty concerns, worthless mortal vanity- you and I, we focus on what's truly important: power."

Hestra, for as steely as her countenance is, lets her head droop to one side, warm cheek pressed against Vem's cold hand. She raises one of her own to Vem's waist, closing her eyes. "I have power, Vem. I'm the Emperor, blessed by Akatosh, anointed before the One." She doesn't need sight to picture the frown grow on Vem's face as she speaks.

She hears a sigh, and the cold hand moves down from cradling her head, sliding across her bare neck and stopping at her shoulder. Hestra opens her eyes again to see the predictable sight. She'd call the expression on Vem's face perplexed, as she is always baffled by her refusal. "Have I not explained to you the difference in magnitude hundreds of time?" She scoffs. "You are a Queen, a mortal Queen, you command great armies and rule over all of your citizenry. But I could make you more. As vampire, you would never age, never die, you would be indomitable."

"Indomitable," Hestra repeats. "But dominated by the foul machinations of your master."

Vem furrows her brow, twitching her nose. "Lord Bal is our master in name alone. He holds no true sway over us- we only need make one pact, but one ritual, and we may reap the rewards of his gift as we serve ourselves. You cannot tell me you would not desire such a power."

"Power at a price." Hestra lets her hand fall back, and now furrows her own brow as she looks back at Vem, somewhat yearning for the years she hadn't known of her true nature, or for a time where they could spend time ignoring the doom that surrounds them, before this decision had to be reached. "I do not want to join your Gray Host."

"You would not have to." Vem retracts her hand as well, folding her arms over her chest. "As immortal Emperor of Cyrodiil, you would be of much greater use as an ally to the Gray Host, to relinquish your power over this land would be foolish."

"Imagine I disagree with what your Host does, terrorizing innocent people, drinking of their blood and eating of their flesh."

Vem tisks, she almost seems to roll her luminous eyes at that. "This is because you are clinging to mortal notions of morality. You do not weep for the butchered cow, do you? For us, it is no different than hunting simple animals."

"And if I care for these animals?" Hestra asks.

She receives a raised brow. "Do you really care for these people, Emperor? These people who are not yours, who you do not know- how much would you sacrifice for their lives?" After a pointed silence, she adds: "If you could trade your life for theirs, right now, would you?"

Hestra answers honestly. "No."

"If," Vem begins. "The inverse were true, and you could sacrifice the lives of many to achieve greater power, greater dominion, wouldn't you?"

Hestra considers. "...I might." She gazes off to the side, looking behind Vem into the palace's quarters. "But what you speak of, this is the truth of politics, of warfare, of the life of an Emperor. These ugly decisions are mine to make, and I must."

"This is what holds you back," Vem turns and begins to pace, steps silent as she does. "You deny what you truly want: power. You claim it out of responsibility, you make these excuses for yourself..." She looks over her shoulder, Hestra meets her piercing eyes. "Why do you let yourself be ruled by such foolish thoughts?" She approaches again, so gently as though gliding through the air. A fanged smile plays on her lips. "You are Emperor. I am offering you power, it is in your very nature to accept it. Do not deny your true calling."

Hestra looks to her vacantly. She wonders how often she has been tempted, how close she's come before now. "You talk of offering me power- power of my own- and yet you speak as though to dominate me yourself."

At this, Vem laughs. It breaks the tension somewhat, and she takes Hestra's hand in her own, rubbing circles on the back with her cold thumb. She looks at her with half-lidded eyes. "You would not like to belong to me, dear Hestra?"

And at this, Hestra is pulled two ways, and such a grave conversation becomes very silly, and for the first time tonight, the Emperor smiles. "You speak in circles, love, like a turning wheel." She leans in and very easily presses her lips against Vem's; a shallow kiss, undercoated with some feeling of fleeting passion and intimacy, something that feels like a last chance, a final moment in which they can both pretend they share the same future. Vem puts her arms around Hestra's head, the mortal reciprocates with a hold on her waist. Hestra pulls back to breathe and laugh. "Sometimes, I still can't tell- do you want me a vampire, or a thrall-" Vem interrupts her by kissing her cheek, laughing along.

They embrace and they laugh for awhile, standing on the balcony, nipped at by the chilly night air. Eventually they stop laughing and just hold each other. Vem tucks her head into the crook of Hestra's neck, and Hestra lets her, and runs a hand through her silky dark hair.

"...You know," Vem softly breaks the silence. "That of course I want you to join me as I am- a vampire, the rightful rulers of the unliving. Because you are a ruler, Hestra, and this drew me to you, for I recognized how great you could be if you could only see what lies beyond your mortality..." One of her pale hands turns to run across the close-cut hair on Hestra's head, and Vem turns to look her in the eye, one side of her head still pressed against her shoulder. Her expression is warm, and not regal. "I do not doubt how far you will go as a mortal. You will be remembered for centuries, for a hundred centuries, your death will be something glorious, remembered in song, you will be indelible... but you will die. And it breaks my heart-" A laugh- or maybe a sob- spills out between words. "I know you could never understand, you are mortal, impermanence is everywhere in your life, to be everlasting is... difficult, to communicate. It's something you need to feel for yourself. I ask... that you allow me to grant you this, Hestra. Please."

She'd never seen Vem posture in such a way. They have been intimate with one another, they've spoken of sadness before, but never has she been so melancholy, so sorrowful as to look up to her with those eyes, dry but full of sadness. "...My love, you know I can't-"

"Why?" Vem asks immediately.

"Because- Because I am Emperor first, divine regent of the One, descendant of the Ascended Saint Alessia, defender of Cyrodiil and the Faith. I am dutybound to destroy the Gray Host... and I cannot accept your power, it would render me an abomination in the eyes of the Order, and all I've worked for would be for naught."

Vem pulls back, Hestra lets open her arms to give her space. She looks at Hestra, fear in her face, steeled by frustration. "They would not have to know. There are ways- many of us disguise our true nature, some get away with it for a century or more. You yourself had no idea before I revealed to you my nature."

"You're right. I didn't," Hestra admits. "But this is because I was young and stupid. The pelates of the Order are older, wiser, many of them savvy to the affronts to the divine. And in any case, I would still need to invade Verkarth."

"No, no you don't. We could- if you'd postpone, delay, we could destroy this Alessian Order-"

"Destroy the Order?" Hestra's brows fly up at this, almost more shocked than insulted.

Vem clenches her fists at her sides. "They are just mortals, Hestra. Mortals can be manipulated, they can be herded and culled by their true masters. If all of the threats to your power were turned, were on our side, would you still deny this?"

"You're speaking in fantasies." The Emperor says, colder than she meant to. She is just as frustrated, not only by Vem's assertions, but by how her mind meanders and considers them.

"Answer me, Hestra!"

"I could not- I could not disgrace my line, my ancestors-"

"Your ancestors were nothing more than cattle!" Vem shouts.

"Your family is nothing but a pack of monsters!" Hestra replies.

Vem, incensed, points a sharp finger at Hestra as she bares her fangs. "We are NOT monsters!" She growls, throwing a hand up. "'Monsters', 'daimons', 'abominations', these are all the labels feeble-minded sheep apply to us, the true masters of Tamriel! And here you are- so different from them, so close to us, and you refuse your rightful place on our Council, your rightful taste of our blood, all because of these vapid mortal commitments to the lives and deeds of mortals, the ways of people who lived and died as nothing more than stupid animals- you let them limit you, hold you back, drag you down to their level!" Snarling, there is a quivering to her frame and face that belies her nerves. "You do not deserve to be another pile of bones in a pasture! You deserve to be Domina, High Emperor of All Tamriel, Immortal Ruler of the weak and impermanent!!"

Hestra stands stock still, shadows cast on her creased face. "I cannot do this. I will not take knee before your king."

"You would not have to! Do you know how few of us respect King Styriche? How fewer revere Lord Bal? To depose him, to usurp him, it would not be difficult, you would only have to delay your invasion!" Vem's composure is all but faded as she pleads for what she wants, the safety of her family, an immortal paramour, and all that she wills be made real, as in true domination of the world. The fact that she screams this hoarsely and with such desperation- the desperation of someone not in control- is not lost on her.

The Emperor hangs her head, heavy with troubles. She grits her teeth as she speaks with attempted finality. "I cannot, Vem, and I'm sorry that I cannot." Her own eyes, still living, well up as she speaks. "It does not mean I don't love you- I do, I give you my word and I mean it: I do, and if I were anyone different... you need to know how much I want to be forever beside you, I truly want this, but..."

Vem suddenly darts forward, pressing herself against her, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "If you want it, you can have it. Let me turn you, forget the Empire, let it fall under someone else's rule- we could make of it that you died in battle, that you were- you were betrayed somehow, sow dissent in the Empire, let it rot and fall. Leave my family alone, let us go together into a new life." Her plan is flimsy, her voice is quickened and shaking, but she bears her soul to Hestra like never before. "Take what you want, Hestra."

She bows her head. Hestra leans down to press her forehead against hers. She wants to take her into her arms, as they used to, like lovers would, but she doesn't.

#mori writing #oc: hestra #oc: alessians #hi. this is about emperor hestra and exarch vem from that one eso dlc #shout out to that background character for saying one nice thing about another woman so i could write this entire thing

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gabelish · 2 years

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The Blackwater Anomaly: Antagonists From Another Universe

These are the primary antagonists in TBWA! We have to explain some lore and science but the short version is: they are alternate versions of the main characters from a different reality. I have the antagonists, who are generally referred to by their last names, on the left with the main character on the right.

The main characters are all from the same parallel reality, designation: χ-E8036 (χ = Greek letter chi). The formal, more sciencey version of that code is: Cluster Chi, Sector E, Strand 8036. The antagonists are all from different realities.

All humans are within the Chi Cluster, as outside this Cluster are realities where human life never developed. Sectors have significant differences between each other, such as Franz Ferdinand not being assassinated. Sectors A-Z are those where all five of the main characters exist in some iteration, but there are other sectors, designated with the Cyrillic alphabet, where these characters are never born. Strands have moderate to minute alterations, from choosing a different major to turning left instead of right, and are assumed to be infinite, although this has not been entirely proven.

Franz Kauflin: χ-S99

In his reality, Franz picked this name instead of "Rainer", a choice which signifies an abandonment of Judaism. Whereas Rainer is reasonable and calm, Franz is impulsive, vindictive, and temperamental. His youth was very similar to Rainer's, however the major divergence for them is that, while Rainer was heartbroken over his friend choosing his girlfriend over him and now exists in a state of perpetual pining, Franz took a more hands-on approach and strung his friend's girlfriend from the ceiling fan by her intestines.

Franz prides himself on his extensive reality-hopping and systematic slaughter of his alternative selves and the subsequent cannibalization of their corpses, something all reality-jumpers must do if they wish to remain outside their own reality without succumbing to Corrosion, a very painful disintegration of your atoms and slingshotting of them back to your original reality, where they are reassembled.

Side note: Because people only age when within their own reality, and because universes must have every one of its original atoms for time to continue to flow, when a person leaves their reality, time stops, and when they return it immediately begins from the moment they left, and because death in an alternate reality just transports you back to their original reality, it is theoretically possible to be immortal by hopping realities and cannibalizing alternate versions of yourself.

However, there are a few problems with this solution. Franz has a theory on how to achieve immortality: cut the thread linking yourself to your original reality. This would, as best Franz and the others can tell, would destroy your original universe, but when there are infinite ones, what does it really matter if a couple of them are obliterated?

Holly Sansen: χ-L7296

Sansen is much more prone to violence than her counterpart and is cruel, bitter, and sarcastic. She suffered a mental break when she was thirteen and killed her father. Instead of psychology, she pursued surgery, but was more interested in unethical human experiments, which she was able to readily do in other realities where human rights weren't as strict. Eventually she grew bored with humans and continued with alien species. Sansen ultimately got frustrated with repeatedly getting ejected from realities once Corrosion overtook her, and when she met Franz, who said he had a plan to make them immortal, Sansen joined him.

Isaiah Messier: χ-K11

This version is more rude and hardened than his counterpart. Messier participated in an anarcho-communist uprising in his reality which unfortunately failed. His versions of Rainer, Holly, etc. were all killed by the government. Messier spent much of his time reality-hopping, toppling governments, and assisting versions of himself from different realities, before joining up with Franz. Of the five of them, Messier is the most righteous and upstanding. He is clever and particularly keen on doing whatever he can to spread his own ideals of a perfect world to other universes. Once an idealist, he has now become a pragmatist and readily accepts the cost of human life may be extreme in the now if humans are to survive long-term, free of capitalism and government. He carries a large amount of quiet rage inside that only violence seems to quell.

Eva Castellano: χ-J839

Castellano is much more bubbly and hyperactive than her more subdued counterpart. She is sweet, but sweet like antifreeze. Unlike her coutnerpart, who is paralyzed by indecision and unknowing of the future, Castellano is liberated by it and has spent most of her time since discovery the anomaly in her reality jumping from universe to universe being a space marauder, an assassin for hire, and a cult leader. She invents a new version of herself in each new reality she settles down in. She is also hoping to become truly immortal and joined up with Franz.

Pax Hoffield: χ-X460

Much more science-minded than their counterpart. Hoffield devised most of the laws of traveling between realities through systematic experimentation. Unlike Sansen, who is typically actively immoral, being cruel for cruelty's sake, Hoffield is simply neutrally amoral, ignoring any ethical lines without delighting in their trespass. They are interested in science and answers at whatever cost. Hoffield also dedicates a significant amount of time to philosophy and the study of alien religions; they work too much and sleep and eat too little. Hoffield has decided to stop attempting to make themself more relatable to other humans, unlike Pax, who still craves a certain level of acceptance by their peers. Hoffield is certainly happier albeit more isolated.

#writing #the blackwater anomaly #characters #science fiction #evil twin #doppelganger #queer characters #ngl this was inspired by many podcasts #wolf 359 #mainly

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Ultimatum”

Welcome back, everyone! We had an unexpected break last week due to the horror going on in Texas. I'm glad we did. Not because of any salty "RWBY is bad right now yay free Saturday" feelings, but because keeping to a schedule for a fictional webseries should never take precedence over peoples' safety. I can't believe I need to type that sentence out, but it's true! Over the last seven days I've seen fans who are not merely disappointed by the mini hiatus (understandable) but outright hostile towards the crew because they... were ensuring everyone survived during an unprecedented emergency? Yeah. Given the highly critical nature of these recaps — including today's! — I want to be clear that my thoughts towards Rooster Teeth's creative choices are distinct from any thoughts about the crew itself, including the most basic forms of compassion like, “I sure hope everyone is okay over there.” In an age where it has become horrifically common to harass creators and even send them death threats over stories, it has likewise become necessary to remind people: Don't do that shit. Never do that shit. If I can teach anyone anything at all, let it be that!

Anyway, dark fandom reminders out of the way, let's dive straight into our delayed episode. It was certainly a doozy. Titled "Ultimatum," we open on a trigger warning for flashing lights. Good on Rooster Teeth for including that, though I do wonder if creators shouldn't be including time stamps as well? Or perhaps a note that you can find those time stamps in the credits, avoiding any (minor) spoilers for everyone else? I'm not photosensitive myself, so I certainly don't mean to speak for that group, but my first thought was, "So how would I watch this episode if I was? Hand on the pause button, hoping I stop fast enough as soon as the lights start?" Hard to do given the surprise nature of the scene. Really, my answer would be, "Wait for the fandom to post warnings of their own, likely including where it happens so I know when to skip" which is perhaps an indication that this information that should be included from the get-go.

But I am glad the warning exists, regardless. The episode itself begins with a shot of Ironwood looking down at the kingdom. He's used his windows as a vantage point since Volume 7, so that's nothing new, but something about this particular shot reminded me of Ozpin, looking down from his tower. I'm sure the response from many would be simply, "Ah yes, the two power hungry dictators watching over their victims," but I think there's a much more nuanced reading here about leaders being expected to fix the literally unfixable and what that responsibility does to an individual. Of course, it's a nuance that is absolutely obliterated by the episode’s end, but the implication existed for a hot second!

Two other soldiers are in the room with Ironwood, reporting that Cinder has helped Watts escape. They try to soften this with news that they still have Jacques in custody, but receive only a, "I don't give a damn about Jacques Schnee." Which, fair. He's pretty useless at this point. It's when Ironwood learns that both Qrow and Robin escaped too that he really gets mad, something his subordinates have been expecting given their scared expressions.

Now, I'm treading lightly here because I realize how this is going to sound given the end of our episode, but I still want to note that outside of that ending... this is a weird take? Just hear me out. Since Volume 7 the show has worked very hard to make Ironwood seem scary and unstable — bad setup for what we end with today — but the problem is that none of it works in context and it certainly doesn't work when compared to other characters' actions. They are literally in the midst of an unwinnable battle and thousands of his people are dying. If the audience wants a human being — who also just lost a limb and was betrayed by half his allies — o remain perfectly poised and polite during that, sorry, but that's not how human beings work. But even beyond this, what’s the message here? Ironwood raises his voice, so does Yang. Ironwood hits his desk, Qrow hits a child. If we're going to examine how Ironwood handles his stress and anger, he often handles it better than many of our heroes. Namely, by continually taking that anger out on inanimate objects. I kept waiting for him to attack his subordinates or attack Winter this episode, especially given where we end up, but it never came. Ironwood always has enough control to break the desk or punch the wall, not the person in front of him. Which, of course, would not be a good thing in the real world. I want to be clear given these sensitive subjects that if someone is breaking things in your presence that's a major problem to address. But this isn't the real world. This is a fantasy world in the middle of a war, populated by other characters who express their anger by punching people, slamming them into walls, or screaming at them until they run away. The story wants us to fear Ironwood long before he makes his objectively horrific choices and it tries to achieve that by showing us characters who are clearly terrified in his presence, by giving us a string of broken objects in his wake. But those details don't land well when we compare them to other instances of stress. In the same volume I have watched Ironwood take a deep breath to calm himself down when things have gone horribly wrong. I've also watched Weiss start a conversation by threatening her defenseless brother. So again, what’s the message here? It can’t be that acting violently towards someone = villainous behavior because, as established since Volume 6, that’s common for the heroes. Why are these subordinates terrified about Ironwood slamming his fist on a table, but Whitley has no problem hugging the woman who threatened him? Obviously there is a HUGE difference between our main group and Ironwood when it comes to other actions (cough-bomb threats-cough), but these day-to-day moments don't match up. The show wants to use violence as a way for us to easily identify the Bad Guy while ignoring all the times when our heroes do the same thing.

All of which isn't meant to be a defense of Ironwood. As we'll see in a bit, there is no defense for what he's done. Rather, it's a way of acknowledging just how badly he's been written. Why does a man who consistently reins in his anger and takes it out on objects suddenly shoot a councilman for literally no reason? Why does a man defined by wanting to save as many people as he can suddenly threaten to bomb his city? Ironwood's characterization is all over the place, in the sense that they keep writing him as the morally gray, sometimes harsh, but ultimately compassionate man he started out as... up until they need a villain. Salem isn't here yet, so Ironwood can shoot Oscar. Salem isn't attacking yet, so Ironwood can shoot the councilman. Salem is currently reforming, so Ironwood can threaten YJR and Mantle. He's the B-plot villain whenever Salem is out of commission, which is a problem for both their characterizations. This filler doesn't make sense for Ironwood and it severely undermines the threat of Salem. You finally introduce the Magical Big Bad and our heroes are facing more of a threat from a guy with a broken army and three loyal allies left? Hmmm.

The tl;dr is that Ironwood's arc is a disaster and, frankly, it's gotten old reading simplified takes of, "It's just a realistic look at what white U.S. men will do in power sweetie :) " RWBY does not have the context capable of conveying that sort of critical take because our world is not besieged by literal monsters and an immortal witch, to say nothing of how real life good guys do not get deus ex machina canes that fix the problem instantaneously. Ironwood is not an example of anti-U.S. imperialism, he's an example of writers who don't know how to write.

Anyway, I'm getting severely off topic. Obviously Ironwood is a major part of this episode, but the problems demonstrated here are two years in the making. This is the culmination of things I've been discussing for months across hundreds of posts... so I should probably stop trying to summarize it all in a few paragraphs lol. Perhaps when RWBY is over — or Ironwood has died — I'll do a single meta on his character, try to pull everything into one, unified argument.

For now though, we have an episode to analyze.

While Ironwood is receiving this news we get flashbacks to Qrow and Robyn. Qrow attacks a soldier in his bird form, which is hilarious. Someone GIF that please. It does raise some interesting questions about this magic though: does Qrow retain his aura and strength in this form (something I thought given his choice to transform during the explosion), or was that soldier just so shocked at being attacked by a crow that he went down easy? We'll never know, because that would require establishing concrete rules for this world. The point is Qrow is going feral in his freedom, throwing punches left and right — did he kill that guard? — while Robyn watches it all from under a rock. They're apparently still somewhere in the facility since all the exits are guarded, but that's not the good thing Ironwood seems to think it is. After all, Qrow is out to murder him. He wants to be there.

We all see where this is going, right? The show is going to ignore Qrow's crazy belief that Ironwood got Clover killed in favor of a "Qrow saved Mantle by murdering Ironwood"/“Qrow got revenge for Mantle by murdering Ironwood” ending. Who cares why Qrow wanted to kill him in the first place now that Ironwood has his finger on the trigger? If RWBY is good at anything, it's writing moments that encourage you to ignore everything that came before it. We'll be seeing more of that in just a bit.

"Damn it!" Ironwood yells, because the show is leaning into its cursing. He orders that the subordinates not return until "you have Qrow Branwen in custody." Here we have another great example of the show conflating what the audience knows with what other characters know. See, we know Qrow has a vendetta against Ironwood. We know their relationship is the important one to the story and that Robyn is incidental. Ironwood doesn't know that. There's no reason for him, as a character, to specify that they only bring Qrow back, but it makes sense for the audience who has the whole, thematic picture. Our understanding of the situation is influencing Ironwood's dialogue, which is... not great.

This entire scene we've had creepy music to hammer home just how evil Ironwood is. Except, as said, he takes a breath to calm down and the music fades. Instead of flying into a rage, hurting someone, or doing anything the music suggests he might, Ironwood calmly calls in for an update — which is when the explosion hits.

It's MASSIVE, seeming to originate from a lightning strike, which is weird, since it's coming from inside the whale, but whatever. The animation is very dramatic and pretty, as we've come to expect of RWBY, but the actual plot is lackluster at best. It's funny though because I thought for a hot second, when Winter and the Ace Ops were caught in the blast, that RWBY had actually done something exciting. I mean, holy shit! There are the deaths we expect from a battle like this. My god, what is everyone going to do when they realize that Oscar's needless attack took out five characters, including Weiss' sister —

No wait, never mind. They're fine.

Let's talk about that "needless" descriptor for a moment though. Do you all remember, two weeks ago, when I went, "Hey, why isn't anyone telling Oscar that that Ace Ops are approaching with a bomb? They're on a time limit! If someone would just mention that Very Important Information then Oscar wouldn't keep standing around to fight Salem." See, at the time I was frustrated because of how the plot was needlessly allowing Oscar to put himself in danger (especially when the whole point of this mission was to rescue him). Now, I'm frustrated because that same plot needlessly wasted the most powerful weapon the group had. There was no reason for Oscar to use literal lifetimes worth of stored energy when the heroes already had a bomb to do the same job! What was the point of that? I guess he took out the other grimm too, but without the whale that still would have been a challenge with a finite end, one Ironwood's army and the remaining huntsmen should have been able to handle. It doesn't feel justified to have Oscar use a weapon kept on the bench for lifetimes when there was another option literally minutes away.

There's so much wrong with this I need another list. So:

Ozpin's cane supposedly stores kinetic energy, which may contradict what we've seen from it before. Regardless, we’ve never heard about this. The all powerful weapon comes out of nowhere

It also begs the question of why Ozpin wouldn't use that power at Beacon and why he wouldn't insist that they try to get their cane back while captured. You had an out this whole time! But we’re going to ignore that because Oscar is a little hesitant?

Which makes YJR's presence even more useless than it originally was, which was already pretty useless. Oscar essentially rescued himself

This kinetic energy miraculously doesn't hurt any people or buildings, just grimm

So what is the point of Silver Eyes? That's been their MO since they were first introduced. Sure, Silver Eyes can be used far more often than Ozpin's cane, but it still feels like a let down to learn that the Big Secret behind this weapon is... the exact same thing Ruby has been doing for years

Like Ruby, Oscar likewise didn't need any practice or training. He just set off this massive attack perfectly and without issue

We have now eliminated the biggest threat to the cast instantaneously — the whale and the other grimm — with no effort from the rest of the heroes. Like the Hound, the stakes are obliterated with no satisfying work on the part of our protagonists

Instead, as said, the actual plan already in place never happened. The bomb just... goes back. Kind of like how Cinder attacked and then just went back to Salem. Penny woke up and then just got knocked out again. We continue to go in circles

This is because no one took two seconds to tell Oscar, "There's a bomb on the way"

Because this threat is gone the show needs a new one, hence Ironwood randomly threatening Mantle with said bomb

The one way we might have justified Oscar blowing up the whale instead of Winter is if he did it to save Hazel, but Hazel is implied to be dead

Maybe he's alive, but if he's not that happened off screen and we're not sure how. It couldn't have been because of the blast itself — everyone else is fine — so what, Salem somehow killed him before she was blasted to bits? While he was holding her?

And there's no body?

Salem was torn apart multiple times during that fight and reformed instantaneously, yet now, conveniently, she's taking her time

None of the characters mention the issues above. None of them admit that there was no reason for Oscar to waste LIFETIMES worth of power when they already had a solution in the works. Fantastic

I need to take a moment to acknowledge that so far this recap feels... bad. Disjointed. Bit all over the place. Which makes a certain amount of sense because that's where my thoughts are at. There's so much going on in this episode — so much wrong with it — that I don't know how to boil it all down into a few, neat claims. This episode is a mess! We're barely a few minutes in and the combined issues of Ironwood's characterization and Oscar's choice have left me reeling. So if you're still reading this, bless your patience, I think we'll both need it for the rest of this journey.

Let's snag a neater plot-point to discuss. Amidst all the chaos Neo literally skips away with the Lamp, clearly thrilled at how her own life is going. Later in the episode she'll text Cinder with the obvious: Salem is going to be pretty pissed when she realizes this is gone. “If you want her name you know what you owe me."

So wait... what is Neo leveraging here? Is she agreeing to give the Lamp back so Cinder doesn't get in trouble with Salem? Give Salem the password she's been looking for? Or give Cinder the password to use the Lamp for herself? What would Cinder even want the Lamp for when she's after the Maiden powers? I'm confused about what Cinder is being blackmailed with. Regardless, she needs the lamp for something and presumably what she "owes" Neo is Ruby. We get a cut to her just to hammer that home.

(Side note: both pictures of Neo are hilarious.)

Before that though, back at the whale, everyone is taking stock of the situation when Marrow cries, "Hey, they were still in there!" I feel like this is another scene meant to make him look like the one good guy in the group — he cares about YJOR while the others can’t be bothered — but as always, that reading doesn't fit well with the situation as a whole. The others have barely had time to realize they're alive. I don't think it's a moral failing that they didn't instinctually worry about four betrayers, one of whom attacked them, while they're still checking that they have all their limbs intact. Besides, why does Marrow assume they're dead? The Ace Ops were caught in the blast as well, yet miraculously came out unharmed. They clearly didn't set their own bomb off, so it's logical to assume that YJOR did something themselves. It feels weird to have a "Marrow mourns them and Winter is the only other character who cares" moment when everyone is recovering from bomb shock and no one even knows if the others are dead. But, of course, the show is out to portray only two of these characters as good people, so ignore the logic and run with the emotion of the scene.

All of which is bolstered by Elm pulling away when Vine puts a hand on her shoulder. Why is she acting cold towards him now? Because they're not friends, remember?

While we get more ridiculous relationship dynamics, Ironwood calls in and congratulates them on the bomb working, but tells them to get back because they have another problem in the works. That would be Qrow and Robyn. Winter decides to tell him about the bomb in person.

We cut to Watts and Cinder watching the remnants of the blast from a rooftop. Cinder has tried calling, but no one answered. Unsurprising, given that Salem doesn't have any other allies left. Cinder says that the plan hasn't changed, she's still going to take the Winter Maiden's power for herself, and Watts can help her by bringing Penny here. He explains that he doesn't have full control over her. Rather, he implemented a virus that is setting her on a single path: open the vault, then self-destruct. Cinder, as one might expect, is furious.

She snags Watts by her grimm arm and threatens to toss him over the side of the building. Thus begins the best part of the episode, hands down. Despite the danger he's in, Watts throws common sense out the window in favor of dragging Cinder in the most satisfying manner possible.

“You think you’re entitled to everything just because you suffered, but suffering isn’t enough. You can’t just be strong, you have to be smart. You can’t just be deserving, you have to be worthy! But all you have ever been is a bloody migraine!”

It's true! You know what else is true? This speech could apply to our heroes as well. Accusations of entitlement and reminders to be smart as opposed to just strong hit hard, considering those are the same flaws our protagonists are struggling with. The difference is that Cinder, miraculously, listens, pulling Watts back to safety and going to cry by herself. That moment is simultaneously more growth than Ruby has gotten and more sympathy than Ironwood has gotten. The woman who murdered Pyrrha is treated more kindly by the narrative than one of our initial heroes and our very first villain has taken more time to reconsider her choices than our title character. You know a show is falling apart when excellent choices are applied to the worst possible character.

So Cinder is crying while Watts looks guilty and we cut back to YJOR's group post-blast. Yang is finally able to answer a call from Blake who is obviously overjoyed to see her. Weiss gives them directions to the mansion and they ask what in the world they'll do with Emerald, currently on her knees, mourning Hazel.

Thus begins the third most frustrating part of this episode. See, on the way back the group continues the conversation about what to do with Emerald, with Yang and Jaune distrusting her vs. Ren and Oscar encouraging cooperation. I can't believe I'm saying this after's Ren's speech and Oscar's entire existence... but I'm team Jaune and Yang here. Look, what Oscar and Ren say — the literal words coming out of their mouth — is nonsense. Ren goes, “We can’t let all of our actions stem from fear," as if Yang and Jaune are being ridiculous for mistrusting Emerald, one of the established villains, after years worth of harm from her. It’s weird that Yang points to her arm as something Emerald is responsible for, rather than being framed or the deaths at Beacon, but the general sentiment of, “She’s done horrible things!” is true. Ren’s perspective is the same simplification that was applied to Ironwood last volume, wherein everyone acted as if he was crazy for fearing an attack on his kingdom... post an attack on another kingdom and pre an attack on his kingdom. Putting generic lines in Ren's mouth about not being afraid makes him sound willfully ignorant, as if choosing to believe that someone is good will magically make them so, to say nothing of thinking it will erase all the harm they've already done.

Oscar at least acknowledges the difficulty here, but then follows this up with, “You don’t have to forgive her… just give her a second chance."

Oscar, honey, that amounts to the same thing in this situation. Allowing Emerald a second chance means working with her, which means trust, which means emotionally reaching a point where these characters can put aside the harm she's done them in an effort to give her that chance in the first place. This actually ties into a post I saw last night, one I've come across before, that claims redemption arcs don't require any suffering on the part of the person who has done wrong. I agree in theory, that prolonged suffering doesn't help anyone, but the problem is that people tend to conflate suffering with consequences and someone who has done this level of harm should face consequences for their actions. The problem with redemption arcs is not that the bad people suffer too much — emotionally and physically beating on them as a form of revenge — but that the people they've harmed are put into situations like this one. If Yang and Jaune let Emerald go like she suggests, they are agreeing that she doesn't have to face any consequences for the damage she's done (which, keep in mind, involves multiple deaths, not including all the lost lives here in Atlas). If they agree to give her a second chance, they are forced to jump straight to some level of forgiveness. We might claim they don't have to forgive Emerald to work with her, but from a practical perspective how are they meant to function, especially during a warzone? Anything she provides them with — information, watching their back in a fight, undertaking missions, etc. — requires trusting her enough to allow those things to happen: working with that info, letting her protect them, allowing her that responsibility. It's all about trust, trust she has yet to earn. In order for a redemption arc to be successful, the power has to be in the hands of the victims. They need to be able to see some justice for what was done to them, be offered some proof that the person in question has truly changed, and have the ability to walk away if they decide no, I don't forgive you, glad to hear you've improved, but please stay out of my life. Jaune and Yang have none of that. There are currently no systems in place for Emerald to face consequences for her choices, she has offered them no proof of her remorse or true motivations, and the other half of the group is pressuring them to give her that second chance without closure or reassurance. None of that makes for a good redemption arc and reducing that to, "So you want to see poor Emerald suffer, huh?" ignores the suffering she has already caused. The group are her victims and they are under no obligation to give her a second chance, particularly under these circumstances, which makes the story's choice to have Ren and Oscar act like Yang and Jaune are being stubborn or inconsiderate a problem. The conversation boils down to, "Give the woman you know to be a liar, manipulator, murder accomplice, and servant of our enemy a second chance based entirely on unfounded faith. If you don't you're letting yourself be ruled by fear."

RWBY's touchy-feely themes really don't sit well within its realistic, morally gray premise. We cannot continually have these characters go through hell one moment and then have others accuse them of being paranoid the next. The fact that all of this is wrapped up in the group trusting Robyn, Emerald, and Hazel over their established allies remains beyond frustrating.

Because yeah, you know how Oscar finishes his speech? “I’ve already gotten a lot of help today from someone I don’t exactly trust right now." Meaning Ozpin.

The story is trying to compare Emerald and Hazel to Ozpin.

"Oh hey, I kept a secret from you after lifetimes of watching that secret lead to betrayal and death. I keep apologizing for my mistakes while ignoring that I had no reason to trust a bunch of kids with such world-shattering information and also that you tore it from me in the most traumatic way possible."

"Oh hey, I willingly joined our world's version of the devil and helped her destroy your school, leading to numerous deaths including your friend and headmaster. It was his death that put Oscar in this position in the first place! I then continued to attack your group, leading to another near death of a friend, and a kidnapping, and the destruction of Amity, until I became scared enough to make a run for it."

Which one of these characters is granted an instant second chance? You'll never guess who!

And I do think the word "instant" is important here because just like Jaune and Yang have the right to have distance and justice from Emerald, they had that right with Ozpin too. The difference is they got it. They had the power in the situation, as evidenced by their use of the Lamp and physically attacking him. Ozpin heard what they needed from him — leave us alone — and did that without complaint. They were given months to come to terms with the secrets he kept. They were offered apologies and acts of service to demonstrate intent: saving them in the airship and continually saving Oscar. I don't believe Ozpin ever needed a redemption arc, but even if we think he did, he had it. After three volumes of material Oscar's perspective is still "I don't exactly trust [him] right now" but Hazel and Emerald have earned at least the same amount of trust in a matter of hours? They're really having my boy look at the guy who has tried desperately to do right by him despite unimaginable circumstances, and the guy who tortured him to get information for Salem, and went, "That first guy. He's the one we need to watch out for."

To make things even worse, Oscar tells the others that Ozpin took on all the torture so he wouldn't have to. So he did that and they still don't trust him? If you had told me back in Volume 6 that two years later the group would still be hostile towards Ozpin, while simultaneously urging one another to trust Emerald, I would have said you were lying. RWBY has its problems, but it's not that bad. Yet here we are. I suppose the one silver lining here is that Ren smiles when he realizes Ozpin is back? So at least one of them isn't prepared to draw their weapon at the mere mention of his name.

Both these moments raise more questions though. How in the world did Ozpin take on that torture when we clearly saw Oscar getting pummeled for a good portion of the kidnapping? Is that a weird merge thing the story hasn't bothered to explain? I wouldn't be surprised, considering Oscar said last episode he didn't want to use magic because it hastened the merge, he uses the biggest explosion of magic we've ever seen, and nothing has changed. Ozpin is still in the back of his head, thanking him for the tinniest shreds of decency they get. Ren, meanwhile, seems to be back to mindreading. How in the world does he know that Ozpin is back? I assume it has something to do with his semblance, but we don't know what. They could have shown us Oscar from Ren's perspective, perhaps with two distinct emotions swilling around to imply that he sees two different people now, not a useless shot of Emerald with purple flower petals, whatever purple means.

Oh, but no, we shouldn't have gotten either of these scenes. Remember that Ren's aura broke a very, very short time ago? Is it back already? Can he use this part of his semblance without it? Considering it was near impossible to see Ironwood's aura breaking in the Watts fight and we were then mistakenly told he used his semblance in the office, I'm going to go with, "The writers forgot."

Oscar explains that the cane had "lifetime after lifetime" of power in it and though there's still some left, "we have to be careful with how we use the rest." He says that Ozpin trusted his judgement and of course he did! Ozpin also didn’t know that there was a bomb on the way. Yet funnily enough, no one else mentions that, whoops, your choice made in ignorance was a waste and that's due entirely to us prioritizing hugs over basic mission information.

Also, all these explanations take place in front of Emerald. Half the group doesn't trust her, but they'll freely discuss their powers and limitations here. Remember how the group once wanted to talk about magical relics in front of the old lady they'd just met? Yeah, they've learned nothing.

Combine all this insanity with the fact that Ozpin's magic saved the day before Ironwood's bomb could do the same... while Ruby sat in a mansion drinking tea. Who's our hero again?

So things are a hot mess, to put it lightly. Their conversation finally ends when they hear voices and round the corner to find all the Atlas citizens huddled in the subway. For once the show actually writes them in a sympathetic manner, emphasizing how terrified and helpless they are. This image doesn't lead the group to any revelations though, certainly not anything that would tie back to Ren's earlier speech in the snow. No, once again the justified criticisms here are ignored as we hear that “However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you, [Emerald.]” That's it then. Discussion over. We knew as soon as it started that blindly trusting her was being presented as the "right" thing to do and now here we are, deciding that conclusively, despite Jaune and Yang's complaints. By the time the group reaches the mansion, Oscar is defending Emerald from Ruby. We're supposed to just accept that she's a part of the group now, only minimal pushback allowed.

Before that though we return to Ironwood getting news that their bomb never went off. He briefly wonders who else could have done that, but puts the currently unanswerable question aside for what he does know. They still have the bomb and it could be "useful." See, this moment — like shooting Oscar and the councilman — is when Ironwood just randomly goes off the deep end. One minute he's talking about what they've lost and cradling his new arm,

the next he's saying that he should have tortured Qrow to get Penny to obey him! Which doesn't even make sense since I'm pretty sure Penny hasn't ever spoken to Qrow. She wouldn't want anyone to suffer, true, but it's not like Ironwood had a close friend like Ruby to use as leverage. Qrow is just Some Guy to her. Regardless, he thinks Yang, Jaune, and Ren are decent replacements, despite Penny also having no relationships with them. This is what happens when your characters only start breaking up their teams eight years into the story, the response to Ironwood wanting to torture Ren to hurt Penny is, “Does Penny know Ren exists?” But, you know, torture is torture, right? Maybe. Probably not. I mean, if they're going to turn Ironwood into a cartoon villain, they could at least keep him smart.

Because all of this is just the height of stupidity. Ironwood wants to torture people Penny barely knows to make her listen (so just grab some civilians? It would do the same job...). Ironwood wants to shoot down empty ships, even though no one, including us, knows where in the world those ships would have gone. Ironwood wants to destroy an entire city to try and save another city. He wants to use a bomb meant for a comparatively small whale and acts like that alone will take out the majority of a kingdom. None of it makes sense! And I know the easy comeback for that is, "Well yeah, Ironwood is crazy and evil" but he's not. I mean he is. Threatening torture and bombings is obviously evil, but he's never been insane, or stupid. As said before, his arc (or lack thereof) is an absolute disaster. The fandom assumes so many things about Ironwood given the opportunity — the whale is a suicide mission. He expects the Ace Ops to die on his order — and the writing hints at so many things that never happen — he's going to hurt his subordinates, attack Winter for disobeying him — and every time what we actually get is a far more compassionate, level-headed character... until he randomly does a 180 and goes, "Let's murder a whole city now!" I never wanted Ironwood to be the bad guy, but they could have at least given me a persuasive decent into this level of horror.

So... yeah. Ironwood has got to die by the end of the volume, yeah? Between Ruby warning the whole world about him and him going into full villain mode, there's no coming back from this.

Neo sends her text to Cinder and the group makes it back to the mansion. Remember Yang's criticisms of Ruby's leadership? The ones she conveniently forgot about when Ren started to agree with her? Yeah, those are entirely gone as the sisters hug it out and, presumably, forgive one another for... daring to admit that things are bad? Look, I'm not going to deny that Ironwood's scene with Winter was creepy as fuck,

but I'm not of the opinion that the heroes are any better when it comes to the theme of obedience. They've attacked one another, screamed at one another, and any dissent from Ruby's leadership results in the questioner being left behind in the snow. We'll accept you again when you fall back in line. I used to adore the relationships in this show, but watching them now is just discomforting. The show might be 100% more obvious with Ironwood, using creepy music, a smile, and that hand on Winter's shoulder, but the concept of, "Sorry I dared to question you before! We won't ever do it again :)" isn't healthy either. The fact that the show keeps erasing theses problems with hugs — Weiss hugs Whitley now, Yang hugs Ruby, someone will probably hug Emerald soon — doesn't make the circumstances any less uncomfortable.

None of this even gets into the Blake and Yang hug. First of all, why is Blake acting like they had a fight and Yang might not want to see her? She's hiding inside rather than rushing to greet them, ears down in a devastated expression until Yang touches her. Combine this with Yang's "Do you think she's mad at me?" and it feels like the writers cut a fight in the final script and then didn't bother to remove the fallout from that. Seriously, where did any of this come from? You can't just have characters act like they've been fighting when they haven’t.

Also, can't forget this.

At this point there's nothing more I can say in regards to RWBY's almost-queer baiting. Is touching foreheads more intimate than the hugs Yang gave the others? Absolutely. Is that an appropriate stand-in for overt representation? Absolutely not. This would have been a perfect time for them to kiss. Take out Blake's nonsensical fear and replace it with them both reuniting after their first separation since Volume 5, working under the knowledge that either one could have been killed, finally admitting their feelings. Hell, they don't actually have to kiss. Not all girlfriends are interested in kissing! But they could use the terminology that makes things unequivocally canon. Another forehead touch when we got that in Volume 6? It's not enough, especially not when our straight couples have all been allowed their rep.

Ren at least wants to know where Nora is. He's presumably told what happened off screen as Oscar tells Ruby that Emerald is their friend now.

Then an emergency call from May interrupts the reunion and the group learns that Ironwood is bombing the Schnee ships. “Those ships… they were going to save people” Weiss whispers. How? Tell me how they were going to save anyone. Where were you going to take these people where they would be safer than where they are now? RWBY continually asserts things without explaining them, meaning there is precisely zero emotional weight here. Again, Ironwood is far past the point of defense, but I'd be a whole lot more critical of this particular action if I had a better sense of why it's bad. He appears to be endangering the people given May's shout to run — falling debris? — but the further implication is that Ironwood has doomed the people of Mantle by denying them these ships. It's that part that makes no sense based on what we've been told.

Which finally comes to the ultimatum of our episode title: Penny opens the vault, or Ironwood bombs Mantle. Great! So glad this plan is wicked smart and works well for his characterization. It's definitely not a nonsensical, unfounded, overblown change that feels like it belongs in a child's cartoon, complete with dramatic spotlight. Nope. Excellent writing choices all around.

Our final line of the episode is, “I hope you live up to the title I gave you," referring to Penny's job as the Protector of Mantle, and you know what? That line could have been very cool if it was delivered by an Ironwood with a persuasive fall and a halfway decent plan in place. I love that we've twisted the concept of a protector and turned the title into a horrifying, rather than honorable responsibility... I just hate everything surrounding those details.

So, usual RWBY fare.

(At least we get to see that Nora is awake!)

Will things get better over the next four episodes? I doubt it. We're still expecting the rest of the Ace Ops + Winter to ditch Ironwood, someone getting the vault open, the fall of Atlas, now the potential destruction of Mantle, and none of that includes Salem who should reform at any moment. Frankly, I'm not looking forward to any of it. The final leg of a season should make its audience excited to see how everything turns out, not dreading it. I've heard from multiple people that this is the volume that finally got them to drop the show and honestly? I'm not surprised.

As a final (happier?) note: we've finally got a bingo! I completely forgot our board last time, which was a terrible oversight, but we can update it now.

Our army of grimm can't kill anyone now that it got KOed by Oscar (that is the third one hit defeat of a major enemy we've seen this volume. Yes, I'm including the Hound considering it was obviously on its last legs after Ruby's eyes.)

I'm likewise including "Ozpin apologizes for everything including his existence" because he's done nothing but apologize since he came back. The emotion is there even if the literal words are not. Oscar reminded everyone of how untrustworthy he is, but kept the group from jumping them again. And Ozpin thanked him for it.

Neo didn't literally backstab Cinder (shame), but the Relic still counts.

So a triple bingo! Is that how bingo works? Idk, I've never played. I feel like I should have thought up some sort of humorous prize, but sadly I've got nothing. If you think of anything, let me know lol

That’s all then, folks. Until next week! 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby ultimatum #rwby recaps #mymetas

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egelantier · 3 years

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Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hua cheng #cdramas #cnovels #mxtx

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

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BeeTober 2020 Day 28

Guardian - Decay

Day 28 of BeeTober brings an AU where Mingcheng are already established, but Jiang Cheng went to some pretty extremes to keep his soul safe. That he turned into a stone statue really is the least of it.

Nie Mingjue wakes up well rested and ready to tackle the day. It’s a strange enough occurrence that it gives him pause immediately, and he stays quiet and unmoving to figure out what’s going on.

There’s no sound but some trees rustling and birds singing, and that alone tips him off to the fact that he can’t be in Qinghe nor Lotus Pier. Nie Mingjue opens his eyes to look around and he frowns when he sees where he is.

He’s inside something that looks like a temple, except it’s falling apart around him.

Nie Mingjue looks down on himself, checking if he’s restrained and about to be sacrificed to whoever resides in this temple and his frown deepens when he sees talismans all over himself.

But instead of subduing him or keeping him chained to the table he’s laying on, they are for healing and freezing him in time. And one by one they start to go up in flames, telling him that there is no more need for either.

Nie Mingjue shakes his head slightly as he swings his legs over the table, and it’s only then that he realizes it’s not really a table but more of a bed.

“What the fuck happened,” Nie Mingjue mutters, his mind foggy and memory elusive but he trusts that someone will be around to tell him what the hell is going on.

He cocks his head slightly when he notices the faint chiming of a bell in the air, and even though he doesn’t know why it’s ringing he can feel that it gradually works to clear his mind.

Nie Mingjue is a bit wobbly for the first few steps but soon enough he regains his equilibrium and Nie Mingjue walks up to the only door of the temple. There are multiple windows, turning everything into a soft gold with the sunlight, but there’s only one door.

A door that is unlocked but so damaged by time that it takes Nie Mingjue a few moments to get it open.

When he finally steps outside, he only sees green for a moment before he realizes that the temple is overgrown almost completely.

And then his eyes fall on a statue in front of the door, and Nie Mingjue freezes when he sees it.

He knows that back.

“My heart?” Nie Mingjue whispers, and he’s quick to walk around the statue.

Except, it’s not a statue at all, Nie Mingjue comes to realize when he looks at Jiang Cheng.

“Oh, my heart,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and cups Jiang Cheng’s stone cheek in his hand.

Nie Mingjue suddenly remembers his last qi deviation; not everything but enough to remember that it should have killed him. But he also remembers Jiang Cheng’s pleading voice, telling him to hold on, begging him to not die, promising him that he’ll find a way to heal him if only Nie Mingjue doesn’t die immediately.

Well, Jiang Cheng certainly held that last promise, Nie Mingjue thinks with a small smile, but when his eyes fall back onto the temple, it turns bitter. It must have been one hell of a healing sleep, because the temple is nearly falling apart behind Jiang Cheng, the touch of time even eating away at the stone and decay all around them. And yet it still holds.

Nie Mingjue looks closer at the supporting structure and he sees arrays upon arrays melded into the stone; it’s Jiang Cheng’s handiwork—Nie Mingjue would recognize that anywhere—so he must not only have put Nie Mingjue into a healing sleep and protected him from aging while he’s recuperating, he also tirelessly channelled qi into the Clarity Bell and he built a whole-ass temple around Nie Mingjue as well.

Nie Mingjue turns his gaze back to Jiang Cheng. His heart has turned into stone so completely that Nie Mingjue doesn’t even want to contemplate for how many centuries he’s been sitting outside of Nie Mingjue’s resting place.

It’s not completely unheard of; there have been a few stories of immortal cultivators who stopped moving at one point, and who turned into stone but Nie Mingjue has never witnessed it before.

Nie Mingjue feels a belated stab of worry. Cultivators have died long before they turned to stone this completely. The key to this is to keep the qi circulating but for that one needs to concentrate. And it's so very hard to keep the mind moving when the body is not. Its too easy to loose oneself inside ones own mind and just the thought that Jiang Cheng could have suffered the same fate makes Nie Mingjue feel vaguely sick.

But he can still feel Jiang Cheng's qi circulating, can still hear the soft chiming of his clarity bell, and he knows that his beloved didn't suffer that same fate as countless others had.

Jiang Cheng never only attempted the impossible; he always achieved it and then some.

“My heart, it’s time for you to wake up again,” Nie Mingjue whispers as he leans forward to press a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s cold and hard cheek.

It’s a long process, petrification, but reversing it takes slightly less time. It will be weeks, maybe even months, before Jiang Cheng will return to him.

But Nie Mingjue isn’t worried; Jiang Cheng kept himself alive and focused for centuries, he will not fail to come back to Nie Mingjue, now that he is healed.

And healed he is; he can feel it. His qi is circulating in a way it hasn’t since his first qi deviation, his meridians completely unharmed and undamaged despite the violent nature of the last qi deviation, and Nie Mingjue knows that it’s all due to Jiang Cheng and his stubborn will.

Nie Mingjue cups his cheek again, carefully brushing his own qi against Jiang Cheng’s to let him know that it’s time for him to come back now, and Nie Mingjue can’t believe that he ever got so lucky as to be loved by an amazing man like him.

It’s certainly more than he deserves, that much Nie Mingjue is sure of.

Before Nie Mingjue can get lost in his own mind, there’s a rustling sound behind him and Nie Mingjue spins around, desperately missing Baxia in his hands right about now.

It doesn’t matter. If whatever or whoever comes out of the woods is a threat to Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue will fight them with his bare hands if he has to.

What does eventually emerge from the underbrush is a kid.

A kid that seems strangely familiar, down to the stubborn move of his jaw when his eyes fall on Nie Mingjue.

“What are you doing here?” the kid demands to know and Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him. “This is private property and you’re trespassing.”

“I doubt I can trespass on my own temple,” Nie Mingjue gives back, more amused than anything and the boy glares at him.

“It’s not your temple. The temple belongs to the guardian,” he says with a nod to Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue bites back a smile.

“The guardian, huh?” he asks. “And what is he guarding?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and watches at the boy stutters.

“No one knows, because no one is allowed to go into the temple!” he eventually yells and Jiang Cheng will love to wake up to his yelling nephew, Nie Mingjue just knows it.

“What if I come from inside the temple?” Nie Mingjue asks and very pointedly looks down at himself.

The robes he’s wearing hold no resemblance at all to the clothes the boy is wearing and clearly that must register with him as well.

“You can’t be,” the boy still says, jutting his chin out. “If you would be, then the guardian would come back. But he will only come back when his soul returns to him!”

“Ah,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and turns towards Jiang Cheng. He leans down to rest his forehead against Jiang Cheng’s stone one and then he says “But your soul already returned. And you should hurry, because what am I going to do without my heart?”

“Oh,” the boy behind him says breathlessly and he’s staring wide-eyed at Nie Mingjue when he turns back around to him. “How do you know that?” he then demands to know and Nie Mingjue frowns at him.

“Know what?”

“To say that!”

“I—it’s just what I call him,” Nie Mingjue gives back, now thoroughly confused and the boy frowns at him.

Jiang Cheng can’t have been an influence in his life, with how he is petrified and most definitely did not reincarnate, but that frown is all Jiang Cheng anyway.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Nie Mingjue,” Nie Mingjue tells him and watches as the boy’s eyes go wide.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers but before Nie Mingjue can scold him for using foul language, the boy bounded up to him, excitement twinkling in his eyes. “This is your temple!”

“Yes?” Nie Mingjue gives back and then indulgently follows the boy when he tugs on his hand. “Hey, what’s your name?” he asks, even though me most definitely knows, but he has to keep up appearances.

“Jiang Ling,” the boy says and Nie Mingjue smiles.

Good to hear that he’s a proper Jiang this time around.

Jiang Ling brings Nie Mingjue to what is presumably his own home, though Nie Mingjue has never seen a house like that.

It seems like a lot of time passed.

“Mom! Dad!” Jiang Ling starts yelling as soon as they get close to the house and Nie Mingjue is not surprised at all to see Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan come running out of it.

His eyes burn when he sees their familiar faces—it has been so long since they died, at least for Nie Mingjue—and he can’t wait for Jiang Cheng to wake up.

“A-Ling!” Jiang Yanli says, clearly surprised to see her son drag a towering man behind him, and she motions for him to come to her side immediately.

Jiang Ling, predictably, does not obey her.

“It’s him!” Jiang Ling excitedly tells his parents, who keep a wary eye on Nie Mingjue.

He does his best to make himself small and unthreatening, but he’s a tall man and he knows that he carries quite the presence with him.

“It’s who?” Jin Zixuan asks and Jiang Ling almost bounces in his excitement.

“The one from inside the temple!”

“What?” Jiang Yanli breathes out, clearly surprised, but her face turns a little bit softer. “Really?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue says and bows to them.

When he comes up to them staring at him, he realizes that maybe greetings changed as well, over the time. He’ll need to learn a whole lot before Jiang Cheng wakes up, it seems.

“What’s your name?” Jin Zixuan demands to know and Nie Mingjue keeps his head bowed.

“Nie Mingjue,” he answers but Jiang Ling shakes his head.

“No, no, tell them what you said to the guardian!”

“A-Ling, calm down,” Jiang Yanli gently chides her son but then she looks at Nie Mingjue, clearly expecting an answer.

“I told him that his soul already returned and that he should come back as well, because I am nothing without my heart,” Nie Mingjue truthfully says and he’s entirely unprepared for the tears that gather in Jiang Yanli’s eyes.

“Welcome back, Chifeng-zun,” she warmly says and Nie Mingjue is entirely unprepared when she hugs him, before she tugs him inside the house.

“You must be hungry, and confused,” she says, and Nie Mingjue has to admit that he is both.

Jiang Yanli gets him some food and all the while she explains. Nie Mingjue’s head spins a little bit with how much time passed since Jiang Cheng put him into a healing sleep, how much time passed since Jiang Cheng built a whole temple around him and made sure that they will always be protected, and he’s not entirely sure he can process it correctly.

Those really are an awful lot of years.

Years, during everything changed, that much Nie Mingjue can tell, and he is taken aback when he realizes that cultivation is not really a thing anymore. This will be a lot to adjust to, and he’s already looking forward to having Jiang Cheng bitch about the smallest of changes.

“When will he return?” Jiang Yanli suddenly asks and Nie Mingjue clears his head.

“Jiang Cheng?” he asks, just to make sure and Jiang Yanli nods. “It will take time; weeks, maybe even months. His body is completely turned to stone. Reversing the process is delicate work, but I’m sure he already got started on it. He never did like being separated for too long,” Nie Mingjue lowly says, a small smile playing around his mouth.

“You must miss him terribly,” Jiang Yanli sympathetically says but Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“It’s not been that long for me,” he admits. “One moment I had a qi deviation and the next I woke up in the temple. There wasn’t much time to miss him yet.”

“And there won’t be, because I’m sure he’ll come back to you quickly,” Jiang Yanli says.

“So when do you want us to move out?” Jin Zixuan suddenly asks, and Nie Mingjue startles.

He kind of forgot that he was still in the room as well, with how quiet he has been all this time.

“What?”

“This is your house. Well, technically it’s Sandu Shengshou’s house, but I guess you’ll want it back.”

“What do you mean, this is Jiang Cheng’s house?”

“He means that he built it, when he constructed the temple as well. There is always to be a Jiang around, to tend to the temple,” Jiang Yanli explains. “Since you’re back, I guess we’ll have to move.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Nie Mingjue blurts out, but he is fairly certain that Jiang Cheng is going to yell at him a lot should he come back only to hear that Nie Mingjue kicked out his sister and nephew. “You’re going to stay right were you are. We’ll just take a room if you have one free. Besides, everything is different. We’ll need someone around to introduce us to the world again.”

“So that means we can stay?” Jiang Ling suddenly pipes up and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“Of course you can stay,” he tells him and everything is a lot more relaxed after that.

~*~*~

The days pass quickly. There is so much to learn about this strange new world that Nie Mingjue feels like his head is going to split open on a good day but Jiang Yanli is careful not to overwhelm him completely.

If it does get too much, Nie Mingjue finds his way back to Jiang Cheng, who is still more petrified than not, but Nie Mingjue can tell that the process is in reverse.

His cheek almost feels warm under his hand already.

“I wish you would come back to me soon,” Nie Mingjue whispers and leans against Jiang Cheng’s back. “Your sister and your nephew are here, too, and they are dying to meet you. They might have been reincarnated into a world so completely different than ours, but they are still the same. I think. I never knew your sister well enough before, but Jiang Ling is certainly his usually bratty self. You’re going to adore him,” Nie Mingjue tells Jiang Cheng and sighs when no response comes.

But of course there wouldn’t be.

Jiang Cheng is still weeks away from coming back to Nie Mingjue.

That evening Nie Mingjue is strangely melancholic, because he misses Jiang Cheng’s frowns and his biting remarks and his beautiful laugh and his soft skin under his hands.

“He will come back,” Jiang Yanli says with certainty and pats Nie Mingjue’s hands. “He has been waiting for you all this time, I doubt he’s going to wait any longer if he can help it.”

Nie Mingjue is just about to agree when Jiang Ling comes barrelling into the kitchen.

“Mom, there’s a strange man outside!” he shouts, and Nie Mingjue is immediately on the alert.

No one ever gets lost enough to stumble upon this little house and if someone did then it might spell trouble.

“Stay inside,” he instructs Jiang Yanli, who nods with big eyes and Nie Mingjue walks outside.

He can see the figure stumbling towards him already, though it’s hard to make out anything in the dark. But if that person is drunk, maybe they really did just get lost.

“You asshole,” Jiang Cheng suddenly seethes and Nie Mingjue’s stomach drops before the biggest smile breaks out on his face.

“My heart,” he whispers and walks forward, sweeping Jiang Cheng up and crushing him to his chest.

“You asshole,” Jiang Cheng repeats and slaps Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, though he does press close enough to hide his face against his neck. “You can’t just say that Yanli and A-Ling are around and that you’re impatient for me to get back and then leave without waiting for me to come back!”

“My heart, my heart, it’s too soon for you to be back,” Nie Mingjue says and puts Jiang Cheng down on the ground again.

A critical look reveals that he seems to be completely de-petrified and Nie Mingjue is so in awe of Jiang Cheng he doesn’t even know how to express it.

“To soon, please,” Jiang Cheng scoffs. “I waited centuries for you to stop your sleeping act.”

“You are incredible,” Nie Mingjue mutters, because it should have been weeks before Jiang Cheng returned to him.

“Stop with the flattery and kiss me, dammit,” Jiang Cheng demands and Nie Mingjue is more than happy to oblige him with that.

One kiss turns into two turns into many, and in the end it’s Jiang Yanli who breaks them apart.

“I see that he found his way back to you sooner than anticipated,” she says, laughter in her voice and Nie Mingjue blushes.

“Yanli,” Jiang Cheng breathes and even though Nie Mingjue hates to let him go he pushes Jiang Cheng towards his sister.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t hesitate to sweep her up in a hug as well, much to Jiang Yanli’s astonishment it seems, and Nie Mingjue chuckles.

“Who is that?” Jiang Ling suddenly asks and Jiang Cheng’s smile gets even bigger.

“A-Ling!” he exclaims but Jiang Ling hides inside the house when he starts to walk towards him.

Nie Mingjue is at his side before his face falls.

“They are reincarnated,” he whispers. “They don’t remember.”

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng says, clearly heartbroken, but then he smiles again. “Might be better that way, anyway.”

And with that he turns around to Jiang Yanli and bows deeply to her.

“I apologize for my improper behaviour.”

“No need,” she softly says and puts a hand on his arm. “There’s clearly something your husband didn’t mention to us.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes go big at the word husband, because he and Jiang Cheng never did quite get around to that, but when Jiang Cheng smiles at him, he shrugs it off.

Jiang Cheng is his heart, and Nie Mingjue is his soul; husbands seems a little bit redundant with that.

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue allows and pulls Jiang Cheng into his side, simply glad to have his heart back.

“And we will explain,” Jiang Cheng promises as he threads Nie Mingjue’s and his fingers together. “But reversing the petrification is a lot more draining than simply turning to stone and I think I need to sleep now,” he says, and he sways on his feet.

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli says with one last smile before she vanishes inside the house and Nie Mingjue is more than happy to bring Jiang Cheng to their room.

He missed sleeping with Jiang Cheng in his bed, missed his steady weight against him, and Nie Mingjue can already tell that he’ll be a bit more clingy than before.

But Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem to mind, because he keeps one hand on Nie Mingjue at all times and when he has to stop touching him eventually, he makes sure to keep his eyes on Nie Mingjue.

“I missed you,” Jiang Cheng suddenly says and Nie Mingjue realizes that while it was only a few weeks for him, it must have been much, much longer for Jiang Cheng.

“I’m here,” Nie Mingjue reassures him. “And I’m not going anywhere, because whatever you did healed me. So there’s nothing that can take me from your side again anymore.”

“There better not be,” Jiang Cheng says and leans up for a kiss that Nie Mingjue happily gives him.

Nie Mingjue really has no intention of leaving Jiang Cheng ever again, but even if there was something that could take Nie Mingjue from him, he doubts that Jiang Cheng would allow it.

Jiang Cheng already turned to stone for him; if need be Nie Mingjue doesn’t doubt that Jiang Cheng would turn into a god just to get him back, or personally drag him back from hell.

It seems like exactly the kind of thing Jiang Cheng would be capable of.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #au #immortality #reincarnation #hurt/comfort #petrification #fluff

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prepare4trouble · 3 years

Text

I think I figured it out. Or if not, I think I've found myself a head canon that means I can live with the Vikings finale; specifically with the end of Ivar's story in the Vikings finale.

I know I'm a few months late to the party and probably everyone has already been over this before and drawn their conclusions, and maybe there have even been interviews with the cast and crew that have told us what was going on in Ivar's head during his last scene, but if there are, I haven't seen them so until I do, this is what I think and I'm sticking with it.

This may seem really badly written and all over the place, but that's just because I'm thinking as I type, right now I have the bare bones of a head canon and I"m going to flesh it out and try to get my thoughts straight in my head.

So, the first time I saw that last episode, I hated the conclusion of Ivar's story but I think what made it worse was how fucking pointless Ivar's death felt on that first viewing.

But the more I have thought about it, and I've watched it a couple more times since, the more I have started to see the logic to it. I said in another post that it made sense within the narrative; it was necessary for the story that they were trying to tell. At that point, they were telling a version of the beginning of the end of the Viking era, the beginning of the end of the old Gods and the spread of Christianity across Scandinavia, and the last of the Vikings that fell into legend. Ivar was one of those legends, and for the story to be complete, he had to be gone. He wasn't the kind of person that would get into a boat and sail off in search of adventure, like Ubbe did, and he certainly wouldn't have settled down and given up the Viking life like Hvitserk later does. If he were the type that was even a little bit tempted to do that, he would have pushed harder to stay in Rus, even if it meant only seeing his child from afar. He would have stayed with Igor, who desperately didn't want him to leave. But he didn't, because he couldn't. No matter where he went in the world, or what happened to him, something always pulled him back to Kattegat. That look he gave Hvitserk when he was talking about leaving Rus and Hvitserk asked him where they would go. That "Duh, where do you think?" look, said it all.

So yeah, if they wanted to end the show with him out of the picture, they had to kill him, or else that era wouldn't end, and the story, and specifically Ivar's story would have felt incomplete. So maybe if I'd been writing the show, I'd even have killed him off too. But maybe not.

Or maybe I'd have done things differently earlier in the series so that Ivar's death felt more like a natural point in the story and less like a massive slap in the face. Or maybe I'd just have done it so that he didn't just stand there on the battlefield and wait for that random Saxon to stab him. Maybe I wouldn't have had him be so afraid in his final moments, maybe I just wouldn't have had him cry.

But I'm three viewings in now, and I think I know why it happened like it did. I think Ivar was reading the battlefield, as he always did. He was a brilliant strategist, and to use the slightly clunky chess analogy they went with in those last few episodes ("I'm going to take his queen", anyone?), he was always thinking several moves ahead of his opponent. He knew what moves Alfred was going to make, and he could force moves by his own actions. He would have been several steps ahead of everybody else on the battlefield, and he knew that the Vikings were going to lose. Hell, he probably knew that when he spoke to Alfred before the battle. He also knew, as he showed when he correctly predicted what the response would be to him deliberately injuring the Saxon soldiers, that he understood how Alfred thought, and so he knew that the moment he, Ivar, fell on the battlefield, Kind Alfred would call a halt to the battle.

In a way, it's not dissimilar to what Ragnar did, sacrificing himself to achieve his goal, but while Ragnar's goal was to raise a huge army to take revenge on the Saxon kings, something he had learned back in Kattegat that he didn't have the power to do in life, Ivar's goal was smaller, yet no less important.

Ivar wanted to save Hvitserk.

The Saxons had spotted Hvitserk and started to attack him one after the other. He was weakening, he was injured, and if it had continued, he was going to die. That's why, when Hvitserk staggered to his feet and went to fight again, Ivar stopped him, told him to stop fighting. And then, he tells him, "I could never kill you." For a while there has been this assumption that one brother was going to kill the other and right now I can't remember where it came from; whether it was something that the Seer told one or the other of them, or it was just something that Hvitserk dreamed up for himself. Either way, it's something from the times of belief in prophecies and fate, which are strongly linked to the Old Norse belief system that, at this point in history, we are leaving behind us.

So when Ivar presses his forehead to his brother's and tells him, "I could never kill you," I think he realises that by continuing the battle, knowing that they are going to lose, he would be responsible for Hvitserk's death. But also, by making a conscious decision to not 'kill' Hvitserk, even Ivar, staunch believer in the old ways that he is, is turning his back on some aspects of his beliefs.

And then there was Ivar's speech a couple of episodes earlier, the one about how, hundreds of years in the future, people, probably all over the world, would be proud to learn that his blood was in their bodies (or however he put it, I'm on a bit of a roll here and I can't take a break from typing to go back and check the dialogue) Now personally, I didn't like that speech. To me, it felt like too much of a nod to the modern audience. It took me out of the story for a moment and into the present, where people do DNA tests and find out their genetic histories. But that's neither here nor there, the point is, that knowing he was going to be a father, Ivar felt that no matter what happened, he had achieved the immortality that he craved. He would live on, not only in stories and legends, but also in the long line of descendants that he had never expected that he would have.

So, as much as I hate that he walked out onto the battlefield with a giant metaphorical 'stab me' sign, screaming that he can't be killed and that he's going to live forever, while simultaneously doing absolutely nothing to stop the Saxon soldier that stabbed him. But as much as I hate that it happened, I think I understand why he did it.

I still hate it, though. I still hate how scared he was; scared enough to actually tell Hvitserk that he was afraid. It was almost as though he had realised a moment too late that he didn't want to die. I hate that everything he went through in Rus, all the ways that it changed him for the better, felt wasted. But then, maybe if he had never been through what he did in Rus, he would still have been the same selfish Ivar that declared himself a God and murdered anybody who dared to oppose him. That Ivar would have fought on no matter what the cost. That Ivar would not have cared if Hvitserk fell in battle. So maybe when he said that his whole life had been in preparation for that moment, maybe he was right.

But I don't know. Most likely all of this is just me trying desperately to justify what happened. And I think that id my interpretation is even a little bit true, it should have been made clearer in the show without having to watch it a few times and then sit down and think about it for ages. Ivar's death, even on the first viewing (because let's face it, most people don't watch things over and over like I do), Ivar's death felt more like a satisfying conclusion to Ivar and Hvitserk's story, and not just a tragedy and a massive downer of an ending.

Or, more likely, this was all obvious and I was just too stupid to realise it right away.

#vikings #vikings meta #ivar the boneless #hvitserk ragnarsson #that was longer than I thought it was going to be #I've been typing for an hour #I don't have the energy right now to edit #so if it makes no sense I'm sorry

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