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halemerry · 10 months

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On Aziraphale, Protection, and the Greater Good

Alright folks. I’ve already written quite a bit about the ways the Metatron was trying to manipulate Aziraphale here, but I wanted to give credit where credit is due and talk a little bit about how I don’t think that necessarily means it worked nearly as well as the Metatron thinks it does.

Because Aziraphale? Is not stupid. It’s one of his defining traits that though he might occasionally be slow, he has always been intelligent. He has also always been a fighter. And a bit stubborn. And though the fact he is allowed to be all that and still stay soft is one of my favorite things about him, that does not mean he is soft and soft alone.

With or without Crowley, Aziraphale has nearly always been a character who, above all else, does what’s right. This is part of what Crowley loves about him and it’s part about what we as the audience love about him too. He shelters a demon on the wall he is meant to be guarding. He gives away a sword to humans and lies to God about it directly to Her face. He struggles immensely with being asked to do anything he cannot reconcile with his morals and, even if he might fight against his impulses as to what’s right for a little bit, when push comes to shove he almost always falls on the right side of that scale. It’s important especially that this is also true of him even without Crowley in the equation.

Now, Crowley makes it much easier for him to be this person. He encourages and enables Aziraphale to be himself. He complicates and challenges Aziraphale’s worldview but in a healthy way that helps him grow and develop it, but never forces Az to be someone he isn’t. He also, most importantly, gives Aziraphale someone he understands. He is a connection. And a connection that allows Aziraphale to take his time and to make the excuses he needs to, at least for a little while. Because he understands that while Aziraphale is slow to change, he is not as resistant to it as he often reads to be - especially when he thinks that change can benefit the greater good.

Because Aziraphale fundamentally loves Earth and the people on it. And he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Crowley does too. Not taking an opportunity he has to help someone has never sat well with him - even if that person is a naked Gabriel showing up on his doorstep. He does not run away with Crowley in season 1 because it would have been wrong to run away when he felt he could help and the same principle applies here too with the decision he comes to about the Metatron’s offer.

While I definitely think the Metatron was using lovebombing and other manipulation techniques on Aziraphale I highly suspect he is underestimating his new Supreme Archangel. And I highly suspect that what is happening here is not Aziraphale folding back into this own cult as much as much a few other things that could be happening.

I may poke around at a few more of these later but for now I want to focus on Aziraphale lied theory laid out here by @las-lus. This whole season has focused quite a bit on Aziraphale lying/using sleight of hand for Crowley's sake. It makes sense he would do this too to protect him from the Metatron and critically I don’t think it’s an accident that the only shot we get of his conversation with the Metatron are flashbacks from Aziraphale's narrative point of view. Reading this actually changed the whole trajectory of this meta so please take a look at it if you've got the chance! I really love this theory a lot and would've slapped this all on a reblog if it wasn't so big. (Though I'll be the first to admit I'm biased to anything that lets Aziraphale do some rescuing.)

At it's core this makes this action a protective one. He is a guardian given a flaming sword by God. He was built to protect. And we see him in this role throughout the series even if it's not always in the way we expect or in the way he was necessarily built for.

I want to start before the beginning. This scene is an important one for a lot of reasons, but for the context of this the important bit is that Aziraphale is already anxious. He’s a bit starstruck and a little baffled by the strange angel he’s stumbled into chatting with, but his primary focus in the meat of this scene is actually concern for this stranger's welfare. The instant the topic turns critical he immediately starts glancing around anxiously. This scene ends with him saying, "I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble." and giving us one of the most worried expressions I've ever seen on his face.

Then again at Eden, the first time we meet Aziraphale, we are shown him acting twice in a row for the sake of keeping others safe. We see him offer Crowley shelter from the storm and also give away his God given weapon to protect Adam and Eve. A lot of people tie Crowley to Eden for obvious reason but I think people often forget that, yes, without Crowley humans don't leave Eden but without Aziraphale they do not survive it.

We then see him in conflict over the Flood. As far as we know he doesn't act here but he quite clearly thinks it is wrong. He's high strung and tense and his attempts to rebuke Crowley's frustration feels more like him trying to convince himself.

Now we get to Job. This minisode is so fascinating to me for a lot of reasons because through most of it, against pattern, we have Aziraphale as the driving force throughout it. First we get Aziraphale checking in with Heaven to make sure there wasn't some official solution to this. (We also get a line in there that I think says a lot about Aziraphale's priorities when he specifically draws attention to his concerns for Sitis being old enough birth that many times would be hard and risky.) Once Heaven fails him here Aziraphale is the one to reach out to Crowley and Aziraphale is the one to press for them to work together. He takes a gamble, hoping that his instinct that Crowley does not want to hurt kids is accurate, and gets up in Crowley's face to challenge him when Crowley refuses to prove him right. It is not Crowley taking the lead here, bringing Aziraphale in but rather Aziraphale trusting his owns instincts are right.

Aziraphale is also crucially the one constructing the charade Crowley plays in front of the angels as Bildad the cobbler/midwife. Aziraphale immediately and without hesitation provides Crowley with the pieces he needs to make the lie convincing enough. He tells him that what they need is an expert on human births and Crowley rolls with it and then clarifies very quickly that Gabriel witnessed Eve's birth, signaling to Crowley that mimicking that would be the play.

He is trying to tip the scales to get the outcome he wants - to keep this family safe - before he ever utters a lie. And then he does. He lies directly, giving his word as an angel. This is an act that eats him alive inside. He literally thinks he has fallen for this and has perfectly resigned himself as being damned to Hell for it and does it anyway. Because he knows it was right. Because he thinks a family of five he has no real connection to are worth falling to protect.

By the time we hit the Globe in 1601 Aziraphale's primary objection to their Arrangement has evolved from concern about what Head Office will think into concern specifically for Crowley's safety.

Then in 1827, even if it's in a misguided way, his concern starts out on Elspeth and her soul. He tries to protect her and very quickly changes his tune as soon as he's given proper evidence that what she was doing was net good. Again he is the one driving most of this narrative and the duo's actions forward as Crowley drifts along trying to get him to see that some actions aren't fully good or bad but can exist in a moral gray space. We also get him verbalizing his own moral code here explicitly when he wants to heal Morag.

He continues to have concern for Crowley on the forefront of his mind - asking very quickly after his good deed for Elspeth if he's safe or if hell noticed and then a few years later denies Crowley holy water out of concern that it could destroy him.

In 1941 we first get him operating under cover trying to unsuccessfully lie his way into dispatching some Nazi. We then get him offering himself as a magician for Crowley's sake and using sleight of hand to keep evidence of their relationship from making its way to Hell.

In particular I want to draw attention here to the fact the episode we revisit this moment in has two very similar moments toward the beginning and end of it. This episode opens with what the episode is named for - Shax hitching a ride with Aziraphale. He's relatively amicable with her until she at one point implies harm to Crowley wondering out loud why he would risk destruction for Az. Then toward the end when Furfur enters the dressing room, Aziraphale is pleasant and kind until the moment it becomes clear Crowley is being threatened. In both cases his expression turns more neutral and his body language becomes more focused and serious. He is ready to protect at all costs and is done being polite to these people who threaten his demon.

From there we go to 1976. Here as he hears about Crowley's holy water heist, he makes a choice. Even though he does not want Crowley having this weapon at all and tells Crowley as much that that position hasn't changed he realizes how dangerous trying to steal it could be. So he decides to make it as safe as he can in the circumstance, putting aside his own wants and feelings for the sake of minimizing even potential harms.

Even good old 'you go too fast for me' is a form of protection here. Even if it hurts and even if it's not want they want they need at least one of them to pump the breaks to make sure they are not discovered.

Then the world nearly ends. I won't examine what happens there too closely but I think we can all agree Aziraphale was willing to do quite a lot to insure the world and Crowley were safe once Crowley gets him on board with raising Warlock. Though I do want to note I don't think it's an accident that a lot of what Aziraphale says to Crowley at the end of six has echos of the bandstand - the last event Aziraphale has to reference that he knew would make Crowley go away.

A lot of the core of the current season is built around all sorts of protective Aziraphale actions. The flashbacks all gesture at it in some capacity, and anther notable one is him sacrificing books both as weaponry and to make the ball happen. He has committed to securing their safety before a single demon even shows up looking for Gabriel. We also get him willingly risking war to defend the people in his shop. Episode six in particular shows us a lot of Aziraphale in this mode, which he's pretty much locked into from the moment the demons arrive, Whether it's protecting Gabriel, Nina and Maggie, or at one point putting his body between the demons and a whole crowd of people including Crowley.

This season is a season that emphasizes that Aziraphale is a liar. It is one that draws attention to him pulling tricks and on him learning to do that for the greater good. It it about him learning that sometimes the choices we make are often more morally gray than we would like. And most importantly it is about Aziraphale believing this world and the people in it are worth protecting.

And who does he want to keep safe more than anyone? Who did he fight to share his life with? It makes sense to me that he would do this for Crowley. It's perfectly in character and gives Aziraphale the due credit I think a lot of theories lack. Because, to me, Aziraphale isn't the one that walks away from Omelas, Aziraphale is the child who would willfully sacrifice himself to keep the people he loves safe.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale

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cherubispunk · 5 months

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BARK! BITE! BLEED! (PART I) - FWB!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

summary: being without is always easier when you don't know what it is to be 'with'.

a note from Lucy: heyyyy! hows it going? yes...im back with another series. Those of you waiting for cherub, its coming. I promise. hand over my heart and the other on the bible. but words have a funny habit of not wording so...tale please take the humble peace offering of slutty fwb!frankie and please dont bite my fingers off.

playlist | moodboard

wc: 5742 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n, slight noncon voyeurism, thin appartment walls, mentions of cheating, obsessive behaviour, frankie is obsessed and it is very unhealthy, toxic relationships, heavy religious imagry (come on, is this even a surpise when it comes to my writing?), age gap but not bombastic sorry chloe (reader is 21, Frankie is 27) - though not mentioned in this part, graphic smut, could be considered dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (do i need to spell it out to you not to do this?), creampie, biting, its not vore!!!! but there is something inherrently sexual in the themes of metaphorical consumption, softdom!frankie, scratching, gore imagry in the sense of a hunter prey type of thing? More of lu being dell, batshit insane, blurting words onto a google doc and praying ot makes ense when being blasted out into the void.

series m.list | m.list

“At the end of the day, a dog that’s all bark and no bite is merely a bitch. True power lies in those who don't just bare their teeth, but make you bleed when they sink in.”

Frankie was a quiet man. He would always keep to himself. Never usually stuck his nose in anyone's business unless it was for their own good. Stayed in the four walls of his own apartment he rented close to the barracks. He’d made one friend in the entire complex. You. His next-door neighbour. The only thing he knew before prying was your last name on the buzzer out front. From there it was waiting. And watching. Frankie had an obsession with observing you from his kitchen window every time you came home from work at the bar. Stood in the shroud of shadow and sheer curtain. He dug his claws in and clung to each passing conversation in the hallway, or the laundromat down the street whenever coincidence let you pop up there too. Stored each part of you that you trusted him with in his mind for safekeeping. Often caught himself staring at a particular pair of red lace panties whenever you did your laundry.

There was one small, tiny little problem in all of this, however. Lisa. He supposed he should thank her really, because without her, he would have never moved out of the barracks in the hope of starting a life for them. He would have never met you. It was convenient, reasonably priced and he could excuse poor plumbing and heating for the fact it was close enough to his work that he didn't have to wake up any earlier than 5:30. But Lisa…oh, Lisa was Machiavelian. A conniving woman, with her heart set in thick ice, and a cold, unforgiving grip over what was hers. It made him wonder what he saw in her in the first place. Maybe he was blinded to everything but the curve of her face, or the pout of her mouth and the pant of his name as it passed her parted lips. Or there was some morbid fascination he had with her teeth as they bared to his skin and bit down. Tearing him to shreds. Either way, there was something to live for when being ripped apart by her. Something to distract from the sounds of pleasure that seeped through paper thin walls at night. Your pleasure. At the hands of a man he felt nothing compared to and knew nothing about. So he’d roll over and fuck out his frustration on the woman he hated but chose to stay with until she left him for another.

Another day, another ache. Another pain cramping in his lower back as Frankie inched closer to thirty and still no happier. Twenty-seven, a stable-ish job…and what else in life to show for it? He was bitter. In no place to want the company of another unless only for the night. Except tonight he was alone again, pressing his key into the lock, twisting it open, closing the door behind him. And then waiting…listening. Anticipating the drag of his hand south over the plane of his abdomen to under his boxers where he’d tease himself to the sound of you with another man. The pretty whimpers you’d let slip under the weight of another man's skin and bone, and the pleasure flooding the gaps of your synapses.

Only this time there were no cries for more. No whimpers, or moans. No. These sounds were shouts. And anger ignited you as you rampaged through your apartment on the other side of the wall, getting dressed as Mark, the man you’d wasted months on, chased after you in pursuit of your forgiveness.

“Who do you think I am?’ Frankie heard through the wall, pressing his ear to cold plaster with bated breath. Your voice was shrill, seething with the intent to carve into Mark’s skin with an onslaught of verbal mutilation. Have the words mark him with bleeding, weeping shame. “No, really? You think I’d never figure it out, Mark? Am I naïve to you?”

He slipped out of bed with careful stealth: Followed the sound of your voice through the wall, walking with his ear pressed to it before the sound of your front door opening made him jump, stepping back for a second. He blinked, once, twice…then raised his hands to plaster again and leaned closer, ears straining to hear what was now distance shrieking from the hallway outside. Which he followed to his front door. Listening intently behind the wood.

As he held his breath until his lungs burned in his chest, something flared up in Frankie. A desperate, wanting, starving need to swoop in. Be your knight in shining armour. The words were stuck in his throat, and if he wasn’t careful, they would choke him blue. But if he knew even a shred about you, it was that you’d hate that just as much as whatever it was Mark had done to you to have you tossing him out in the early evening. You were a private person. A woman who never appreciated prying ears or eyes. You avoided all his questions about your past whenever he asked. Swerved him off topic and into the hedgerow before he had a chance to blink and realise he had the backhand of whiplash. And if he let it slip once that the walls were thin, there was no telling where your quick mind would jump to next. Frankie never knew why or what made you so guarded. But he imagined one day you bit the hand of god and he stopped feeding you.

Frankie’s heart was thumping to the beat of his anxiety in his throat, making it harder to swallow the lump it formed, clammy palms pressed to the cool wood with the rest of him.

“You’re a sick man!” He heard, followed by a thumping of something being thrown, then a yelp out of Mark as Frankie guessed he was dodging whatever it was you threw his way. Shoes, maybe? Something else? “A coward! So get out. Don't call. Don’t come knocking. And tell your fucking wife!”

A shuffling of ashamed feet. A slam of your front door. Clattering around behind shared walls. Then silence.

It was five minutes of silence. But it felt like the seconds within those intervals were put on the rack and stretched in torture. Five minutes that he should have used to step back from his door but didn't. He just prayed there was more of you to have to himself for a second.

Then the descent of knuckles came beating down on his door. Causing his heart to jolt out in his chest then plummet into his stomach. Twisting his insides into knots that made him sick with intrigue. He took a step back. And a breath. Then waited a second before opening the door to find you stood there in a silly little lace hemmed tank top and sleep shorts. Your hair dishevelled and cheeks flushed. He opened his mouth to speak, but found the words stuck to the backs of his teeth and the roof of his mouth like soggy, claggy toffee. So he shut up, grateful you cut him off first.

“We’re having a bonfire. So whatever shit Lisa left here, bring it with you. My door will be open. I’ll be on my balcony.” And you left him with nothing but that. Stomping back down the hall in a flurry of your anger.

Frankie stood there, feet practically glued to the floor, fingers curling in on his palms as his blunt nails pressed into already calloused flesh. And an image of you, teeth bared to him like Lisa’s once were, appeared in his mind. An apparition of hurt, torment and his own vulnerability. But it was too late. His feet moved before his mind could and he was already collecting the things of his ex-girlfriend who had wronged him time and time again, stuffing them into his arms in a bundle of broken memory, anguish and lingering hurt.

He found you standing by a metal bin of a man's belongings. The odd t-shirt, pictures of your face next to his, smiles happy and bright with the joy of a relationship you never expected to cave in. In your hand was a packet of cigarettes you'd told him in the passing of a hallway’s conversation that you’d quit, but evidently not. And a crumpled, misshapen box of matches. In the other was a bottle of Whiskey. The brand Mark insisted on liking and you’d bought him for a birthday present. A present he’d never receive because he was as dead to you as the day was long.

“I thought you quit.” He said, trying to start a conversation that hit a dead end pitifully quickly.

“Toss it on.” You mumbled dismissively with a jerk of your head to the pile, eyes glued to Mark’s belongings, washing down your bitter words with an even more bitter swig of drink.

Frankie complied wordlessly from there, dumping the contents of his arms on top of the photos and clothes, stepping back while you poured a generous amount of the liquor on top. A seasoning of fuck you not farewell to the people you’d shared your life with and would thankfully never cross paths with again. He took the bottle from you when you pressed it into his chest, taking a drink and grimacing at the taste. It wasn't smooth. It was almost sour, with a kickback that burned too much to be pleasurable as it passed down the column of his throat in a thick swallow. His thoughts trickled in from there as he read the label and glanced at you. He wanted to get you drunk. Get you to slip up. Let yourself be taken for once.

You both watched, deadfaced, as you struck a match, used it to light a cigarette and then tossed it in the bin as memories curled up under heat. The alcohol setting the blaze up in a satisfying roar of good riddance.

He thought it was a little strange. How you’d come to him. Yes, you were friends. But the type of friend that only ever conversed between life events. In the empty limbo of hallways and laundromats. Not burning things on your balcony in the hope the heat will melt your heart back together, It was a little late for that. Stone doesn’t melt. And the two of you had hearts of set concrete from the turn of events you’d experienced. Encased in the cage of bone that would no longer open to another unless broken in two and forced apart. So you slid down the brick wall, knees bent to your chest while you smoked. The flame flickering a violent xanthous, ochre and scarlet.

He joined you on the floor, passing back the bottle. The two of you side by side, and it only just occurred to Frankie how lonely he was now. But how terrified of intimacy he was. Intimacy of a level deeper than skin/ The both of you wordless, silent as the decaying dead of night. Only the crackle of fire between you and a sniff for your nose as the evening air nipped it and made it run. So to distract yourself, you condemned your tongue to bad liquor, chasing it with a drag of your cigarette and a grimace,

“God, this is shit.” You scoffed.

“Not a hard liquor gal?” He chuckled, turning his head to glance at you out the corner of his eyes before the flame had his eyes attention again.

“More of a wine person, really. But even I can tell this is shit.” And you gestured to the bottle in your hand, reading over the label and sighing.

“Yeah,” he sighed, inflicting another taste upon himself when he took it out of your grasp. “It is.”

Silence again. Not awkward for you who preferred your own company to others, but for him, who had been watching you begging for an in, it was clawing at his insides like a starved animal would at the walls of its enclosure.

“So…” He drew out, and you had to bite back an amused smile.

“What?”

Frankie found himself staring in trance at your side profile, with the same fascination you honed in on the flickering flame. He thought in silence for a second. Asking himself the same question.

"How long did you date Mark for?" He asked. The name made him grimace as if it tasted sour in his mouth. Like he had to spit it out with disgust in every syllable for fear of it burning.

"Six months." Another awkward, off beat pause followed as he nodded. Then asked again.

“Did you love him?”

"No." You said flat out. But your words were honest and brutal to the man you let in then kicked out.

Frankie found himself suffocating a sigh of relief in his own ribs. They pinched slightly with an attempt of something profound to be felt. Like a child who had stumbled upon a strangely twisted shell at the beach. "Have you ever loved anyone?"

You turned to him, tilting your head. But Frankie couldn't tell if it was annoyance or respect for the bravery he had on asking you such personal questions. "What is this? Keeping Up With The Kardashians?"He held up his hands in quick defence, backing down.

“I’m just trying to get to know you.”

"There isn't anything to know except for the fact I'm pissed off." You muttered. “And I figured you would be too, considering the argument I heard a couple nights ago through the wall of my kitchen."

Frankie felt his face go pale, then heat up in the apples of his cheeks. "Oh. So you heard that?" The way your cigarette smouldered as you spoke was the only movement on the narrow balcony. So you did know the walls were thin. It made him wonder what else you knew. If you knew how he strained to listen through plaster and drywall each night.

"Oh, I heard it alright.” You smirked, finding sick pleasure in the way he seemed to squirm. “Something about Lisa finding you...'dull behind the eyes'." Frankie watched as you rolled your eyes and doubled back on your standing in the argument, "If you're going to insult someone, at least be creative about it. ``Give them a good reason to cut it loose." You were like a pendulum to him. But one that spun in clockwise, then anticlockwise circles, instead of oscillating back and forth. Unpredictable in a way that both horrified and intrigued him.

"Dull?" He had to laugh in disbelief, "I am not dull."

You smiled to yourself at that, leaning your head back against the brickwork. Ready to shatter his lie with a flick of your sharp tongue. "You are dull, Frankie. You get up. Go to work. Come back. You do your laundry every Sunday— and I know that because so do I. Your car is always in the exact same spot next to mine. Without fail. Now, you can put all down to ‘strict military regime’, but the bitter truth is," You looked him in the eye, your cig hanging from your lips as you showed him the satisfied grin pulling at your mouth, "you are dull. We all are. We work, we grind, we cry because we work. You ache to the marrow and you get stabbed in the back. And you're begging on your damn knees to bite the hand that feeds you. But if you do, then you starve.”

Frankie had never had his own fear served to him by such a beautiful devil before. And he wished, with all he had left in him that Lisa hadn’t taken or ruined, that you were wrong. It made him want to cave into himself to protect what little he had left. Snarl like a wounded bitch as he held back from others to lick his wounds. Maybe offer it to you and beg you to take it off his hands. But how could he argue when you were practically holding up a mirror to his own eyes? "I hate that you're right." He said in solemn downcast bereavement. And watched the cloud of smoke float silently in front of your face to obscure the very mouth that let him have it in such careful, exact slicing words. The blade of your knife was sharpened to a paper thin point. Now stained with his body’s red.

"There are very few things I'm wrong about. Regardless of that, it's a simple formula and easy to understand.”

“And what is it?” He asked, but regretted it for he knew his heart might not be able to take much more. Not that he showed it. This whole exchange his brow hadn’t folded into a single crease.

“Two things in life are certain: Death. And taxes. You work to pay your taxes, and you die from working."

"That's a pretty pessimistic way of looking at things."

"Life is pessimistic." You shot back with amusement, intently staring in a fixed trance at the pile of burning memories. The last warmth it offered was metaphorically and literally its own destruction. Irony, as Frankie pointed out to himself in his crawling mind. "It crucifies you, and burns you...until you curl in on yourself at the corners and turn to ash."

The conversation had reached a level of solemnity he hadn’t expected, but he’d be a liar if he didn't admit to sinking his claws in yet again. His teeth might come next if you gave him the sweet chance.

You were quiet after that. Both of you were. The remnants of a fire that symbolised how Mark was no longer relevant in your life, and neither Lisa in his. If he thought Lisa was machiavellian, the word had new meaning now. But like with her, it drew him in and snared him into blissful trance. It was the type of blind faith you pin to a deity in the sky. The type that you never see but are forced and gaslit into believing because it's shoved down your throat from a young age. You were not his savour. He knew that in the pit of his very existence, the eye of the storm in his gut.

He would be crucified by you.

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”

"Aw." You pouted in mock appreciation, pressing a hand to your chest. "Thank you."

Frankie afforded himself the pleasure of laughing at that. As cynical as it all was, it was real. You had just dared to say the quiet hushed parts out loud for him to digest. Though he felt like he was choking on it more than swallowing it. Regardless, he pushed it down to find confidence in himself and prod further.

“You keep doing that.”

“What?” “That.” Frankie pointed to all of you with a gesture absent of any direction, as if it was obvious. He watched as you tilted your head and scrunched your face a little. That crease in your brow…how it would haunt him in future. He felt like the prey. He was torn between wanting you to hunt him slowly so he could feel something at your hand, agony or not. Or asking you to do it quickly so he doesn't have to pursue through the bitter aftertaste.

“I’m not following.”

“You do this thing…where you turn conversations on their head. I feel like I'm getting whiplash.” He forced out a chuckle to make it seem like he was playing through with humour. But his words were genuine under the lace disguise of jest. You really did confuse him. You had his string of thought in knots. Complicated ones. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed at the question. “You’re trying to figure me out.”

“Why shouldn’t i?”

"Because I'm not the distraction you need." You bit, almost like a warning. And Frankie would have listened if he wasn't so hellbent on breaking in. No matter how hostile, how feral, he'd take the time to tame the caged, battered, abused animal.

“Maybe not.” He agreed, twisting his upper body to face you. It’s important to understand that what Frankie felt wasn’t love. At least, not how he’d experienced it in the past. This was an infatuation birthed by the fruit of lust forbidden to act upon until now. “But you’re the one I want.” With those words came a darkness in his eyes. The kind that reminded you of floods and tempests in biblical art. You were that tempest, with swollen grey clouds and a hammering of thunder ringing in his ears. Laughing as you crashed him onto rocks while he swam helplessly with little energy to the shore. Only to be shoved back with another crushing wave that cut through flesh and met bone with a chill like ice. “Just because we’re sad and miserable, doesn’t mean we have to give up a good time.” His instincts were buried before. Rolling in their grave at the chance to touch you. So he pressed his palms to the lid of the coffin and pushed. Reaching out to trace a delicate line along the angle of your jaw. His eyes were drawn to the soft plush of your lips and how they parted ever so slightly. “I want a distraction, baby.”

He had you where he wanted you. And the liquor mixing thick with your blood had inhibition slipping through your fingers. His breath was hot on your lips. Needy to be paid attention to.

“Would it be worth my while?” You challenged, ignoring eye contact for now. Instead looking to his lips for the lies.

“You don’t think I could satisfy you?” He smirked, lifting your chin with a single thick finger curled underneath and the pad of his thumb swiping slowly over your bottom lip. “I’ll do better than anyone else could.”

“Sounds like an awful lot of confidence you have there. At the end of the day, a dog that’s all bark and no bite is just a bitch.”

Frankie chuckled at that. A deep rumble that rattled the bones that protect the hollow hole in his chest. “Come on…let me have a taste.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He took the silence and the glimmer of ‘i dare you’ in your eyes, pressing his lips to yours to consume you. Devour you whole. They took their time in sinking together and suctioning your lower lip into his mouth. Then his tongue dared to venture forward past parted lips to lick into your mouth and taste the backs of your teeth.

First, you let go of trepidation to take a hold of him. The roots of his hair and the back of his neck, fingers curled like talons. After, you let go of all else. The thoughts scratching the back of your skull, the headache that blistered before by the inferno calmed down and you were forced to focus on him alone as he took a handful of your hips and lifted you up to his lap to roll into him like a steady tide.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt to your room, clothes left in a scattered flurry along the way. Breadcrumbs to pick up later and either regret or laugh at. He unhinged your jaw to let slip your airy moan as his hands travelled south to meet the seam of your cunt. All else fell into place when he circled your clit with two fingers to start the first loop of the knot in your belly. A warmup for the act of sin, and need, and wanting. Whatever god there was should have never been prayed to in the first place. And Frankie knew it now that he was damned to hell from the first parting of your thighs for his wandering hand. His teeth were ready for sinking as he gathered your legs and hooked them over his shoulders to walk open mouthed, spit decorated kisses down the trunk of your navel. Pressing his nose into your mound. The must of your cunt making his eyes light up as he stared at the bob of your throat when you swallowed sharply. Head rolled back to the pillow. His tongue glided into your folds for the first lick. Making a hot wet stripe of a path from your asshole to your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to circle it and glide lover to curl into your quivering hole. Drawing out the taste. The beckoning gesture of his tongue gathering your taste in his senses. A thumb following suit to roll the bud of your clit under it, his nose clumsy as it bumped into it too. Obsessing over the tang of your arousal, thick in shine over his lips the scruff of his chin.

Your thighs clamped over his ears that were red. The heat made your own skin burn. Dark curls of his hair whispering against their insides as he continued to devour you from the seam. And your orgasm– it burned bright after the first fizzle. Made your eyes scrunch closed as he pulled it from you with hand and tongue. What was used for his words had yours spilling from parted lips like a puppet. A vessel for him to carry pleasure through. It had you toppling over into oblivion. The abyss.

With bones brittle and hollowed like a bird you were fine to be dead weight as he ascended your body again. Folding you in half with your legs still bent over his shoulders. He traced the jut of your collarbone with the blunt edges of his teeth. How he wished they’d be sharp to sink deeper. But you were grateful as it would be easier for him to not draw blood and see the inside of you ran red like all the others. It was easy to not be human. It was easy to not show emotion and weakness.

“Feel that?’ he panted against your goosebump pebbled skin, and you nodded. You did. It was the promise to feel desired and not broken. And not maimed beyond repair by another person you let in. Another person you built yourself up to prepare to love, to only have the rug pulled from under your feet and the brickwork clatter to the ground. It was the same promise to him. And the desire that ran thick in his blood made his pulse thrum heavy under its weight. Its intrusion hot under his lust scorched skin.

“Yeah.”

“Imma make it go away for you, baby.” he promised with a kiss to the hollow of your throat below its column, between your clavicle. And it was anything but empty. It was full. And round, and swollen with something deeper in his ribs that ached to be let loose. Breathed to fill you too. “I’ll make it all go away.”

His hips pressed flush to yours and the drag of neatly groomed hair sent a shockwave through your clit and up your rattling spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. Setting off blazing fireworks in your mind for just a second before he started a slow drag. It was a stretch that stung. But pain was comfort if it had pleasure hot on its heels like an obedient dog. Ironic how you feared men like him, who seemed so eager to please and let themselves in uninvited. But you took it willingly this time because you needed to forget for a single second about the heart that bled under flesh and bone in the cage of your ribs.

His cock was thick, full and curved up into the part of you that you couldn't have reached even if you tried. He slotted into your heat like he was meant to stay there. And that alone made you want to scream for him to give in and not relent so you could be ignorant to the way it seemed divine. The roll of his hips kicked up in pace and soon he was hunched over you. Strong arms rippled with muscle from brutal training since the age of eighteen bracing himself on either side of your head. The feeling of him curling his hips into you made you burn. It sent a tumble of a moan from your lips through the breathless pant of his name. A name he never thought you'd call in the tangle of your sheets. But the burning need to give you what he had wanted all this time ate at him. It ripped the flesh fresh off his bone and left him bleeding into you.

Frankie’s eyes misted over when the chain that hung from his neck slipped over your chin and you bought the metal of his dog tags between your teeth. Biting down. It feels better biting down anyway. And the cool of the metal on your hot tongue made your head swim. Looking him in his eyes and daring him deeper. So his lips pressed into a firm line, and your nails raked down his back to leave raised red lines in their wake. Tracing new paths over the old map of scar tissue. Marking new land and territory. The air between you hung heavy with the heat of exhales. And blew with the shared moan you indulged in when it coiled in your belly. The cradle of your hips accommodated his cock as it stretched the tightness of your walls. Your slick arousal giving way to fluidity of otherwise rabid motion. Starving.

When on his tongue, you were alive. Inside you he breathed again with the clutch of your cunt around him. Warm and beating, and thrumming quickly like a hummingbird's wings. A squatter temporarily camped up in the crack between two ribs. Where thick muscle shuddered with breath. You believed something in you was worth loving. But you also knew for it to be found you'd have to be flayed alive.

The crash of his hips into yours aided in the symphony of sex, and filled the four walls painted but void of personal belongings. If he were on the other side of them he'd be jealous. But now he was here, he was alive. Beating hearted and thriving. And any god, saint, angel or divinity could watch and weep as he finally had what he wanted. What he might have needed in order to restore his humanity that lay dormant for so long. He was trying to crack you open so he could lick up what lay inside you. Gather it up in his arms like the greedy wolf, lambs gore, blood and flesh, between fangs of his lower jaw. Have the muscle pulsing between his teeth. But he wouldn't. So for now he'd settle for the flesh on show. The mound of your panting breast that he pressed into his open mouth. The flat of his tongue pressing greedily to your nipple. Before his lips pinched together and pulled the left pert. Switching to do the same for the right. Not leaving an inch of you untouched. Because he had his chance now. And who knew when he'd get another. So he relished in what he was spared and he would take it with him to the grave. Dream of it on his deathbed if this killed him. Or if something else did. Regardless. This would run through his mind until his last heavy and troubled breath.

“That's it.” he murmured into your breast. “Take it. Take it, baby. Take me..”

Your back arched, strung tight like a bow ready to fire. Spine curled up into the heat of his mouth and he bit down again on the swell of your breast. Wanting to take its entire weight into his mouth and have it rot and smear into his tongue. The fizzle of nerve endings reached the tips of your curling toes. The heels of your feet digging into the planes of his scapula to press him closer in the burning of your young orgasm.

“Come on. Let me see you come.” Frankie demanded in a breathless growl as he stared you down with his eyes. The hue of his irises almost devoured by black of pupil. Your jaw unhinged to let rip a silent scream. Feeling that sharp coil snap, and a numbness fill your aching core before your toes curl in pleasure. He helped you ride it out with his cock fucking into your tight weeping cunt while you sang out his name in a chorus of moans, whimpers and cries. Letting go utterly as a rush filled you, lighting you up like dry kindling under your skin. The pulsating of your walls around his length had his hips faltering for just a moment, twitching within your sopping cunt. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he let out a deep guttural groan, closing in on skin with teeth again. Spilling inside you, the mix of your slick with his cum painting you white like the searing heat of pleasure between you. He leaves the last of his load with you by fucking it deeper. Three, sharp, punctuated thrusts.

He lay flat above you while he awaited the comedown from his catharsis. The tingle down his spine sputtered out in a haze of slowburn afterglow. Eyes closed and face buried into the crook of your perspiring neck. Panting together. Hit tongue forgot for a second to shape your name the way it sounded, but with a sharp inhale, the air surged his mind.

“I suppose this is the part where I leave?” He mumbled, pulling back from your skin. His time had come and ended. The two of you now sat back to the world of hallway and laundromat limbo. He sighed through his nose when you nodded. And he did the same, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Frankie gathered his clothes up, putting them on slowly one by one. Drawing out the ache of being alone again by lingering in your presence.

“Come back tomorrow.” You said. Not asked. He nodded, still facing the door. Then twisted the handle and left an empty space in your apartment where he had once been.

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie triple frontier #frankie morales fanfic #bark!bite!bleed!

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murderedbyhomework · 1 month

Text

Kinda scared to post this but

translation of the last chapter of mlc novel not including the extra here:

If anyone doesn’t want to click into google docs full translation plus an extremely lengthy translator’s note underneath the cut

Main Text:

Di Feisheng had already crossed blades with all the main sects consecutively. Except for the Shaolin1 “Empty of tricks” Abbot who insisted against fighting, and Wudang2 “Purple haze” Daozhang3, who had been in seclusion for a long time, he was nearly undefeated in this world.

25th of August.

From the day they’d plummeted into the sea, till now, 13 years had almost passed.

Di Feisheng arrived at the shore of the East Sea very early, at a little village called “Grave of Clouds”, where everyone in the village was surnamed Yun4. The beach outside the village was very clean, with pearly white sand and an aquamarine sea, its waters reflecting the cloudless blue sky.

As if recalling the weather that year, on this patch of the beach, there was a great reef named “Sun Summoning”.

On some unknown date, an unknown person carved on this rock in unrestrained and majestic handwriting. As of now, miniscule sea conches had buried themselves in the deepest nooks and crannies of the calligraphy, but they could not take away from the magnificence of those winning loops and strong strokes5.

Di Feisheng stood on this very reef, clad in green billowing robes, just as he had all those years ago. In all honesty, he could kill Li Lianhua very easily, but what he wanted to achieve victory over, was not Li Lianhua himself, but Li Xiangyi’s swordsmanship.

13 years ago, he’d won the match, only because Li Xiangyi had been severely poisoned, but even poisoned, he’d still been able to do great damage to Di Feisheng. That move “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”, and the resulting 10 years spent on a sickbed, was engraved not just in his memory but in his bones, his heart6, for the rest of his life.

Today.

Di Feisheng felt that he could even just use half his true power to fight. He was going to kill Li Xiangyi. But not before he could crack his “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”. Besides, that man was crafty and resourceful, and in 13 years, perhaps he’d perfected maneuvers that surpassed “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”.

Di Feisheng stood on the “Sun Summoning” reef, and his heart faintly looked forward to the fight.

Beneath the reef, around 100 people stood there. The heads of Sigu Sect of course came, which among them included Qiao Wanmian. Emei7 Sect sent some young disciples, the gang of beggars sent 3 elders, Wudang Sect had Lu Jianchi, and even Shaolin Temple had some bald young monks arriving.

Among this motley crew of unusual people, a big golden and flashy sedan was what caused people to gape in tongue-tied disbelief8. The walls of the sedan were made of golden satin, which were embroidered with colorful phoenixes. The four people carrying it may have worn simple clothes, but with their arrogant attitude and blank expressions, it was clear that they were highly trained martial artists.

Sitting in the sedan was naturally great Young Master Fang and Princess Zhaoling. Outside, there stood a blank faced scholar, whose face was quite darkly tanned. Confronted with such a strange sight, members of the martial world kept their distance from it, exchanging hurried whispers and theories.

Fang Duobjng actually wasn’t willing to ride the sedan here at all. He’d originally planned to throw his wife off his trail, climb over the wall, and leave, spending the better half of the next year free to do whatever. Unbeknownst to him, his wife knew the tune his soul strummed out9 too well, and, knowing that her husband was about to run away, cheerfully prepared a grand sedan and carriages, sorted out their duties, and came here hand to hand with her ‘good husband’.

Along with this loving couple came Yang Yunchun. He’d been curious about the legend of Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng for long, and had practically been raised on their stories. As a practitioner of martial arts, why wouldn’t he be curious? On the reef, Di Feisheng seemed as imposing as the mountains and the abyss, his impressive aura reaching far and wide10. To Yang Yunchun, this sight greatly expanded his horizons, and he silently praised how people of the Jianghu were indeed different from the ones in court.

And yet even as Di Feisheng stood on that reef for 4hours, until it was past noon, nobody caught a glimpse of Li Xiangyi’s figure.

The crowd began exchanging theories in hushed whispers, Ji Hanfo’s forehead creased, as did Xiao Zijin. Bai Jiangchun had started to quietly order his attendants around, and Qiao Wanmian had unconsciously adopted a troubled expression.

Fang Duobing poked his head out from the sedan, “Why hasn’t he arrived after so long? Li Xiangyi wouldn’t have broken his promise right?”

Princess Zhaoling said quietly, “With an event of this magnitude, if he’s that unique among his contemporaries, a god amongst men11, how could he miss this? What if he’s had something happen to him?”

Di Feisheng stood on the reef, clear in mind and heart. Li Xiangyi was cunning, his late arrival was possibly a way for him to throw him off balance. At this moment, a large horse galloped towards the crowd, and someone called loudly from quite a distance away; “Young Master! Young Master! First Young Master!”

Fang Duobing leaped out from the sedan, brows drawn together, and asked, “What happened? During such an important moment, the Fang family somehow decides to send a messenger to yell and cause trouble, is it not really embarrassing?”

The servant boy had sped here by horse, and his breath was nearly gone, his face pale as he raised up a letter.”Young master, young master, this is a letter.”

Fang Duobing replied, not particularly good-natured in tone, “Of course I can tell that’s a letter. Hand it over!”

The servant boy handed over the crumpled up letter, turning paler by the second in fear, “This is Li Xiangyi’s letter…..”

“What kind of letter has to be delivered right now? Since when was Fang Family matters decided by this respectable one12?”

In a moment of infuriation, the phrase “this respectable one” fell from his lips, and yet Fang Duobing suddenly paused, “Li Xiangyi’s letter? His letter wasn’t sent to Sigu Sect instead? Why was it sent to me?”

He’d already been taking quite loudly, and after he said this sentence, everyone turned to look at him, and surrounded him and the servant boy quickly.

Li Xiangyi’s letter? Why would he send a letter to the Fang Family? And why wasn’t he here in person? Fang Duobing nervously opened the letter, his fingers trembling. The letter was a very commonplace piece of white paper, and on it was very familiar handwriting.

It wrote:

During the battle of the East Sea 13 years ago, this one, surnamed Li, used the advantage of concealed weaponry, and took the chance of a sinking ship to battle with you, yet was unable to emerge victorious. Your bravery and honor is near unmatched in this world, this one’s defeat graciously and gladly accepted. many years have passed, this one has succumbed to illness and cannot recover, blade broken and spirit departed, thereby unable to attend the promise of the east sea, much to this one’s regret.

Fang Duobing stared at that familiar handwriting, and only after a few sentences, he felt cold all over, and he could only see the letter say:

The mountains and rivers ever endure, ever changing. Departure follows departure, and my time has come. Today Xiao Zijin of Sigu Sect has trained with his sword valiantly for many years, and is not inferior to “the bright moon sinks in the west sea”. You pursue not a fleeting moment, not a deer in flight, but strive towards the martial world’s peak. This one has departed, and should you be dissatisfied, please request Sect Leader Xiao to take my place.

Fang Duobing’s face was deadly pale, and he looked at that last sentence:

Li Xiangyi passed on 13th July.

“What did the letter say?”

Ji Hanfo and Xiao Zijin walked over shoulder to shoulder, the crowd scattering out of their way, yet still poking their heads around in curiosity. Fang Duobing swallowed with difficulty, and when he opened his mouth his voice was hoarse.

“He said…...”

Xiao Zijin’s gaze was filled with a fierce light, and he grabbed Fang Duobing by his robes at his chest.

“What did he say?”

He was infuriated beyond belief, how dare Li Xiangyi break his promise to avoid a fight! This shameless type of vile character practically took Sigu Sect’s face and threw it out of the nine heavens13! If he did show up later, even if Di Feisheng didn’t kill him, he would!

“He said….. .he said…...” Fang Duobing looked at Xiao Zijin blearily, “He said he was already dead, so he can’t come, and he asked you……he asked you to take his place.”

“What?” Ji Hanfo exclaimed, and snatched the letter.

Xiao Zijin blinked, startled.

“What?”

“He said he’s already dead, so he can’t come, and that he regrets it a lot……” Fang Duobing mumbled. “He said…... he said your sword skill was very good, better than his, so he asked you to take his place.

The flame of fury burning in Xiao Zijin’s chest shot up into the heavens in an instant.

“What do you mean he’s already dead? Why does he want me to take his place? This is his oath of battle! This is his place! Why do I have to take his place?”

“He said…….” Fang Duobing said dazedly.

“Because you’re Sigu Sect Leader. Di Feisheng…….. is here to duel the Sigu Sect Leader, is he not?”

Xiao Zijin paused, dazed by the words.

“Why didn’t he come? If he came…... If he came I’d have….... returned the position to him….... returned it to him……”

He didn’t know why he said this, but somehow it came out so smoothly and naturally, as if he’d already said it in his heart a hundred million times. Fang Duobing shook his head.

“He said his blade was broken and his spirit was gone……. He’s already…....”

His voice was soft.

“He’s already dead.”

After that, he paid Xiao Zijin no more attention, and shakily walked back to his sedan.

“What is it?” Princess Zhaoling looked at him in concern.

Fang Duobing stood dazedly next to the sedan, and after what seemed like an eternity, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Say……Darned Lianhua isn’t Li Xiangyi right?”

Next to the sedan, Shi Wenjue had watched as he became near dumb after reading the letter, and he hmphed.

“Pah! This respectable one told you ages ago, Li Lianhua is Li Xiangyi, Li Xiangyi is Li Lianhua, it was you who’d die rather than believing it. What is it? He sent you a letter? Now you believe it? Hahahahaha, he tricked us both so many years, it really is entertaining.”

Fang Duobing shook his head.

“Tell me— Darned Lianhua isn’t Li Xiangyi—“ Shi Wenjue was taken back.

“What is it?” Fang Duobing lifted his head.

“He sent a letter to Di Feisheng, he said…... he said he’s already dead, so he asked Xiao Zijin to take his place in the duel today.”

Shi Wenjue stared at Fang Duobing, as if in that instant, he’d become a piece of rock or a monster. Fang Duobing stared back in dazed confusion.

“Why did he have to send a letter to me? How nice would it have been if he hadn’t sent it?”

If he hadn’t sent it, I would never have known the truth.

Shi Wenjue dumbly looked back at Fang Duobing. All around them were so many people, yet in his eyes, they were but stone. Li Xiangyi was dead? That liar was dead? Why would he die? Wasn’t he Li Xiangyi? Li Xiangyi should’ve been…….undying.

“Was it really because of…… those injuries?” Shi Wenjue mumbled.

“Skies above…... I’d clearly known, yet…… yet I left— Skies above—”

Fang Duobing turned around, grabbing him all of a sudden and lifting him up, and snarled,

“What did you know?”

Shi Wenjue’s smile was more terrible than if he’d started crying.

“The liar has a lot of injuries, really severe old injuries…..probably remnants from when he fell into the sea…….”

Fang Duobing paused for asecond, and he wanted to continue yelling, but instead loosened his grip and put Shi Wenjue down.

“Whatever” He murmured, “Whatever whatever…...” He lifted his head to look at the turquoise sea and cerulean sky.

“This respectable one has known him for so many years, we ate and drank and even relieved ourselves in front of each other, but didn’t I end up knowing nothing about him anyway?”

“Is he really dead?” Shi Wenjue stood back up. “Who knows, maybe he lied, and to avoid coming to the duel, he’d pull something of this magnitude.”

Fang Duobing dazedly looked at the clear sunny sky, and shoke his head.

“He’s not pulling a trick. He might be a liar and a trickster, but he never really did trick anyone much……. not really, it’s just that you and I didn’t understand…....” His voice faded into a murmur.

“We just……. we just never took him seriously.”

On the reef, Di Feisheng had also heard about Li Xiangyi’s last letter, where he requested Xiao Zijin to take his place. After listening, he calmly tilted his head towards the sunlight and flew away, too disdainful to even cross blades with Xiao Zijin.

Yet Xiao Zijin was also unwilling to fight with him. He still couldn’t think it through, as to why Li Lianhua would rather run away than kill him that day, but suddenly died without a trace?

He’d said blade broken and spirit departed. Was it really that back then, when he’d shattered Wenjing, he’d also destroyed his chance of staying alive? Xiao Zijin felt horrified. What if….. what if it really was himself……. who had forced Li Xiangyi to death? He’d wanted him dead with singleminded passion, yet now when he really seemed to be dead, Xiang Zijin felt it was incomprehensible and unacceptable. Li Xiangyi was undying, he was undefeatable. He was supposed to be a godly presence, and no matter how Xiao Zijin treated him, how he spat hateful words or pointed swords at him, he should’ve never faded away and ceased to exist.

How could he just…... actually die? Was it because of the severe injuries he’d suffered years ago? When he’d been unwilling to kill, unwilling to end his own life that day, was it because—

Xiao Zijin’s face paled in an instant— could it be that Li Xiangyi didn’t want the former to kill him by his own hand! He didn’t want Xiao ZIjin to do someone he’d regret, or let Wanmian know he’d tried to force him to end his own life— so he couldn’t die at that moment! If he’d died then, Wanmian would’ve never forgiven Zijin.

So he’d jumped onto a fishing boat, to go…... to another place…... to die alone.

Xiao Zijin’s eyes reddened. He’d died alone, but when he died, was anyone there for him? Was there anyone who’d buried him, who’d given his corpse proper respects?

On the other end, the shore was silent in desolation, interspersed only by a few sobs, which were let out by some blue robed women in the corner. Ji Hanfo’s face was deathly pale to to extent of appearing gray, Bai Jiangchun collapsed to sit on the ground, and Shi Shui walked away silently. Xiao Zijin lifted his head to shout out sternly.

“Where did you die, Li Xiangyi? If you’re alive I’ll find you in person, if you’re dead I need to see your corpse. Even if I have to travel all over the world and overturn every inch of the ground, I will find you!”

Translator notes:

A sect for martial artists. One of the biggest, most prominent, most diverse martial arts sects with one of the longest histories in irl China. Present in reality and therefore referenced in a lot of works of literature as a martial arts sect

Wudang is a fictional martial arts school that’s often present in wuxia works of fiction

Daozhang, which might be familiar if you’ve read mdzs, is a title for very knowledgeable and spiritual people in Taoist believes. It can be extended to be used as a title of respect for any high up member of religion. In Taiwan it is also an address of respect between lawyers

Yun2 云 is the mandarin pronunciation for the words cloud. In the ancient times, entire tribes in China would often share the same surname and live together, and they’d often name the place they settled in after their own surname.

The chinese idiom used here was 银钩铁画 which refers to majestic calligraphy that deserves to win prizes essentially. The characters literally translated are silver, hooks/ticks, steel/metal, and strokes, so I went with half the idiom meaning and half the literal meaning.

Another chinese idiom (the author uses a lot honestly I’m just explaining the ones that I think deserve it) 刻骨銘心, which refers to a memory or experience being so unforgettable, it’s like it’s engraved into your bones and carved into your heart. 刻 and 銘 both mean carve/engrave, while 骨 is bone and 心 is heart.

The sect is called 峨嵋 sect, which sounds perfectly fine in in chinese, and in fact is named after a place in Taiwan, but unfortunately if you translate it literally it’s something like “mountain peak” and “brows” respectively, which sounds weird so I left it as the pinyin instead. Know that I tried.

Yet another idiom (Tengping I admire your literary ability and degree of culture, but please have mercy on the people translating ty <3) 瞠目结舌 which literally translated means to stare unblinking and unwaveringly, with your tongue tied. Mostly used to express great shock or disbelief.

The exact expression was zhiyin 知音, a term which anyone here who likes watching ‘bromance’ dramas will undoubtedly be familiar with. It actually doesn’t mean soulmate completely. Zhiji means something like “the one who knows me and my soul, my self utterly”, with zhi 知 being “to know/understand/comprehend” and ji 己 meaning “self”. Zhiyin therefore means something similar, but yin 音 means “sound”, or in this case “music”, so the meaning of this term would be “the one who understands the music my soul makes”. It originates from a very interesting story between friends Zhong Ziqi and Boya, and to summarize, Boya was a musician and Ziqi his friend, who despite his lack of formal education compared to Boya, could understand what Boya wanted to convey with every melody he performed, which is where the term zhiyin came from.

The idioms in question are 岳峙淵渟，氣象磅礡´. The first idiom 岳峙淵渟 means that someone is as silent as an abyss(淵渟) and as tall and imposing as mountains(岳峙), and is a metaphor for one’s upstanding and noble character (岳峙 part), as well as how great their tolerance is (淵渟). For 氣象磅礡´, 氣象mostly refers to weather, but in this case refers to one’s aura, while 磅礴 means expansive and endless.

Original idiom is 绝代謫仙, 絕代 means for one to be unique among one’s contemporaries, or to be the best within your generation. 謫仙 refers to gods who have been cast down into the mortal world, which extends to being a metaphor for people who are both noble in character and extremely talented, so much so that they seem otherworldly and unattached to the rest of the mortal world. God among men/mortals was the best translation I could condense this into.

The name Fang Duobing calls himself by is 老子 which can mean father, but in this case is a way for men to call themselves if they feel highly about themselves. Essentially it’s a pretty arrogant way to call yourself, because the title in the end can also mean father, so its a bit like someone saying “I’m your father” as in they have authority over/are senior compared to you

There’s a chinese saying 丢脸面which means to lose face. Xiao Zijin essentially wants to say that Li Xiangyi made Sigu Sect lose face so badly they can’t regain said “face” because it's 9 realms/heavens away.

#li lianhua #mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #lian hua lou #di feisheng #fang duobing #xiao zijin #my translations #my writing #mlc novel #lianhualou novel #吉祥纹莲花楼 #if the format is iffy just bear with me i’m sorry #tumblr hates me #and also copy paste fucks up format so bad

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

Note

How would the Gods react if they found out that you, a Goddess (Queen of the Gods) is helping humans in ragnarok?

The Gods are:

Thor, Beelzebub - cuz I love the way they smiled in round 6

Loki, Poseidon - big hater of humanity, would be interesting to see their reaction

Hades - just wanted to, he seems to side to neither of the sides before Poseidon's death

Hermes - my fav audience ofc I love his comments in every fight

You can add anyone you like :D

-Being a warrior queen goddess as well as a goddess of compassion and rebirth, you were the very definition of tough but soft. You wouldn’t hesitate to defend the weak from others and then you would comfort those you’ve rescued, guiding them. -Ragnarok was something that immediately pissed you off, furious that your fellow gods refused to do anything to help humanity, the thing they created and then failed to manage! -Brunnhilde wasn’t shocked when you came to her, seeking her out almost immediately, and pledged to aid humanity where you could. -You could care less what the other gods thought about you, they brought this on themselves, and you were going to make damn sure that they knew it. -Being a goddess of rebirth had it’s advantages, when Lu Bu and Adam died first, you brought them back, secretly with none of the other gods knowing, giving them their lives back, and telling them that you weren’t going to let a single one of them suffer at the hands of the gods. -You brought Poseidon back next, you couldn’t let him just disappear as well, your kind heart wouldn’t allow you to ignore him and that’s how everyone quickly found out that you were helping humanity. -Many were outraged, calling you out, but were quickly shut up with one fierce glare as you chewed them all out, “Take responsibility for your actions! You created these humans, and then failed to manage them and you took pleasure in torturing them for your own amusement! You’re all gods- act like it!” -Zeus tried to sass you and you immediately bent over and removed one of your shoes and he panicked, holding up his hands, begging you for mercy, before you told him to shut this tournament down and start acting like a true god!

-Thor- Had a feeling you were going to do something like this, but he wasn’t mad, you brought Lu Bu, his soul mate, his friend, back to him so the two of them could have as many fights together as they wanted. Surprised everyone by hugging you tightly, whispering a soft thanks into your ear which did make you a little flustered, something he and many others saw, and it made him smile, stroking your cheek gently, his fondness for you growing.

-Beelzebub- Was stunned when he realized you had brought those back from the void of destruction back to life, gods and humans alike, he wanted to study your abilities, if you would let him. However, you brought Nikola back into his life and he only cared about hugging his friend, calling him such, as Nikola made him happy, before he hugged you, thanking you. Your hug was warm and gentle, he never wanted to leave your arms.

-Loki- You tricked him!! How dare you trick him?! He pouted at you for what felt like days, upset that you had lied to him when you had brought back Lu Bu and Adam. However, after your speech and after threatening Zeus, which made Loki laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe, he forgave you, hugging you from behind, pecking your cheek which made you smile softly as you apologized for deceiving him. He pouted some more, but this time while hugging you, not wanting to let you go.

-Poseidon- Was stunned when you brought him back to life, the pain in your eyes made him freeze, as you didn’t want to see anyone die or suffer. When he asked you why you were helping the humans you turned with a grin on your face and your fists on your hips, “Because that’s what the gods should do, the strong should always protect and guide the weak.” He always saw humans as creatures beneath him, weaklings, but your words made him remember that they were the ones to create humanity, humans were the children of the gods. Poseidon relented but before he went to speak with Zeus he stunned you by bowing at the waist, taking your hand and pecking the back of it, asking you to marry him. The shade of red that you turned was quite lovely.

-Hades- He wasn’t going to lie to himself or others, but he was relieved that you were helping humanity and that you brought not only the humans back, but the gods as well, including his brother and nephew. Hades enjoyed watching Zeus cowering to you as you held your shoe, finding it funny that someone was putting his youngest brother in his place. Hades embraced you tightly once you were alone, thanking you, his voice soft and you smiled softly, stroking the back of his hair gently, comforting him and he all but melted into your embrace, never wanting to leave it.

-Hermes- Knew what you were doing from the beginning, but said nothing, as he didn’t want to ruin the ‘surprise’. When the cat was out of the bag he approached you, a soft smile on his face, “You were able to keep it hidden for a while, Y/N, but I think the others got the message.” You nodded, leaning into his arms as they wrapped around your waist, “Glad they did- I’m tired from bringing all of those fighters back.” he chuckled softly before sweeping you into his arms princess style and your arms wrapped around his neck, cuddling him softly which made him grin as he took you to a private room so you could rest and he could cuddle you.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #ror beelzebub #ror loki #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror hermes

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adrift-in-thyme · 6 months

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I’ve been meaning to make a post like this for a while now but kept forgetting. Since First isn’t widely known I wanted people to have an explanation of who the heck this guy is (and why they should love him). So without further ado

Who is the First Hero?

(All of the following pictures are from the Hyrule Historia)

The First Hero (or First as we call him in the Linked Universe fandom) shows up in a tiny manga at the back of the Hyrule Historia (that’s basically an encyclopedia for Zelda). He isn’t technically canon and doesn’t have a game of his own. But according to the manga he is the first Link, Skyward Sword Link’s predecessor.

He lived in a time when Hylia was still a goddess and before Demise’s first attack. He was a royal knight, much like Hyrule Warriors Link, and seemed to be a man of great respect and esteem. Until, that is, he was framed for an unknown crime and imprisoned.

He remains in the dungeons for four years. Then, when his so called “premonitions of danger” begin to come true, and Demise attacks Hyrule, his people decide “oh, wait! They kinda need a hero now!” So, they set him free and practically beg him to fight for them. He’s understandably bitter about the whole thing, but being the hero he is, he goes out to battle.

No sooner has he agreed to fight, than the goddess Hylia shows up on her crimson loftwing. She has come to battle Demise and help her people escape to safety.

The loftwing looks down upon the humans as weak and cowardly. But Link stands up to him, telling him “there are those among us who have the courage to fight.” The loftwing admires him for the sentiment, but isn’t convinced. He promises to keep watch over him to see if Link is a worthy rider.

With the loftwing gone to the heavens above, Hylia gives Link the Master Sword

Link doesn’t think he is worthy of it after his imprisonment, but Hylia assures him that the sword knows better. It sees beyond his tarnished reputation to the kind, brave man beneath.

Though Link is still bitter about everything he has endured, he swears to fight for his friends. He takes the sword and hones it into something a mortal can wield.

Then, he goes to battle.

Hylia rallies the other races around Hyrule to help the Hylians. Meanwhile, Link and his men fight for seven days. Despite their efforts, Demise begins to burn Hyrule to the ground.

In the end, Link goes to face him, promising to slay him.

But he is badly wounded in the fight. He collapses, weak and near death. Before he can fade away, however, the loftwing shows up and chooses him as his rider.

He swears to ride with the loftwing forever. Shortly afterward, the dragons from Skyward Sword bless the Master Sword with the power of the Triforce. Then, Link gives the sword to Hylia, who carves Hyrule from the earth.

Link retrieves the sword and drives it into the ground, finishing the job and sending Hyrule skyward.

He wants to follow his people to the skies, but his wounds catch up to him. He falls to the ground. In his last moments he promises that his spirit will always be with his people.

Hylia seals Demise away, even as the enraged god promises to prevail. Then, she goes to where her fallen hero lies.

She holds him, crying over him and lamenting the pain he had to endure to become the hero Hyrule needed. Knowing that Hyrule will need their help once more, she then promises to reincarnate them both. Only this time, she will be a mortal.

This story, we learn, becomes legend in the era of Skyward Sword. And the loftwing who Link swore to ride with chooses the child who has his reincarnated spirit, Skyward Sword Link or Sky.

Now, as for First’s standing in LU…I’m know multiple LU fans (myself included) speculate that Jojo will include him at some point. She’s been cryptic about it when asked though, so we don’t know for sure. Neither do we know when he’ll show up (if he does). So, for now, we can only hope.

…and create our own AU’s in the meantime ;)

#trin rambles #first hero #loz #hyrule historia #lu first

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mykingdomforapen · 5 months

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I already made a post about the significance of Chen Xiao's dive in the whole story of Link Click but I am not done thinking about the earthquake arc.

Besides everything I already mentioned in the aforementioned post about why that dive is so crucial, it does also strike me that Chen Xiao is the only one of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang's clients who seems to really grasp the true nature of the boys' abilities. Their services are advertised as a fairy who can 'enter into photos,' but it's never really shared to the clients in what manner that they can enter. So all the other clients come to the boys for information--Quede Games' financial info, a secret noodle recipe, Dong Yi's love confession, Doudou's whereabouts. I'm willing to bet that they all assumed that if such a fairy did exist, she would enter into the photo like a ghost who can sneak around without really affecting the past, or having any ability to affect the past--just an observer. Basically, if Lu Guang's powers also granted him omniscience, not just observance. If any of them had an inkling that Cheng Xiaoshi would become their past self, they weren't at all bothered by it.

Heck, even Li Tianchen didn't really understand fully Cheng Xiaoshi's powers, or if he did, did not understand its limitations. He shoved a photo into Lu Guang's hands in hopes that the boys could 'fix things,' and was angry at Cheng Xiaoshi that he didn't change the twins' past. But if he knew that Cheng Xiaoshi could only dive into the photo as Li Tianxi, as a vulnerable little girl, what would he have expected Cheng Xiaoshi to do to stop their father? What could Cheng Xiaoshi have done to save them, when he was the most frail one in the room?

But Chen Xiao was the only client who didn't seek information. He didn't want to take anything from the past, he wanted to give something to the past. To communicate to the past. He was the only one who sensed that the 'fairy' could become his past self, or at least compel his past self, to do and say things he hadn't actually done. His is the only request that depends on the boys' abilities to become him, rather than to be omniscient and omnipotent. He is the one client--person--who asked the boys to dive into his photo but expected nothing about his present or future to change. He knew that it couldn't, at least not as far as he was able to tell. Yet, he was the one who receives the most moving example of peace as a result of the boys' dive.

I don't have a conclusion on this, I just am still Thinking About the Earthquake Arc (TM) and I feel keenly that, while we are likely not going to see Chen Xiao's character again, he is doing some heavy lifting in the narrative. The one who truly understands Cheng Xiaoshi's abilities for its full potential is the one who was able to truly gain a kinder present/future when he finally made peace with his loss.

Cheng Xiaoshi, I'm oh so scared for your fate.

#link click #shiguang dailiren #shiguang daili ren #cheng xiaoshi #i neeeeeed to protect my baby BOY

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oneatlatime · 4 months

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A Precariously Stacked Pile of Random Season 2 Thoughts

These are notes I took as I watched the season. Usually after I’d already posted about the episode in question, and I thought of something I would have added to the post. Rather than edit them into my posts, I’m rounding them up and posting them all at once. As such, they are vaguely chronological. Unfortunately, because I made the notes legible to me and me only, I didn't bother to write down what episode I was referring to. I've also added some notes in as I was editing these notes. So this is also a bit of a scavenger hunt. Enjoy!

Iroh poisoning himself: dumbass moment or 5D chess?

My autocorrect corrects “Sokka” to Sock, and “Sokka’s” to socks. This causes double takes when editing.

Badgermoles have excellent eyeliner. Is that where the Kyoshi Warriors get their jaw dropping cat eye?

Why is Ty Lee spelled Ty Lee and not Tai Li? Why is Dai Li spelled Dai Li and not Dy Lee?

Sometimes Sokka makes me think of Mulan. Am I crazy?

Are the swampbenders’ moves based on a real martial art style too?

Why didn’t Aang use his swamp sense to locate Appa post-appanapping?

Where did Toph, who spent her whole life as a prisoner of her parents’ house and a moonlighting WWE wrestler until Team Avatar busted her out, get such emotional intelligence?

Why did Zuko’s dad put forward the plan to disinherit Iron in favour of him less than 24 hours after Lu Ten’s death? Why did he think that moving quickly was the right approach? Does the Fire Nation not do grieving periods? In what world was 'strike while the iron is hot' the correct course of action here?

Looking back, I’m amazed that season 2 didn’t end in Zuko’s redemption. I didn’t much like Zuko Alone, but I was sure that a season that included that much set up for a Zuko redemption arc would prioritise finishing that arc.

I haven’t even met this Firelord guy yet, but I am peeved that that twerp has a name as cool as Ozai.

Why haven't I met that Firelord guy yet?

I really thought that the older brother character in Zuko Alone would make an appearance later on in the season, giving Zuko a chance to flex some newly acquired morals. But the parallel to Lu Ten and the general message about the evils of war lands better if we never hear of him again.

Zuko in the first half of season 2 had me so annoyed that I was incredibly uncharitable to him in my write ups. Reading through some of the stuff I wrote while watching episodes, I kind of wince now. Zuko in the second half of the season was much less annoying. Which I feel bad for saying, because he’s clearly not in a good place in the second half of the season.

I would love to know why the writers decided to have Toph and Iroh meet in the wilderness. I think it’s a good choice, but I want to know how they came up with it, and why those characters? Is there anything about Toph (especially at that point, when we’ve known her for 1 episode) that suggests that she and Iroh should meet? Or would get along if they did?

Zuko has so many rock bottom fake outs this season: Zuko Alone? Nope, he gets worse in The Chase. The Chase? Nope, he gets worse in Bitter Work. Bitter Work? Nope, he gets worse in the finale.

I’m still peeved that Azula won a 6 on 1 showdown. Sorry, but that breaks immersion.

I bet the Blue Spirit could make lightning.

If water is the element of change, why does the Northern Water Tribe have such strictly defined traditions? I get that it's literally the element of change, in that water can exist in different physical states, but shouldn't the metaphorical interpretation also be true?

I like that Toph can think like an Airbender sooner than Aang can think like an earthbender.

What is Sokka’s boomerang made of? Is it metal? Because if it’s metal, does that mean that there’s a blacksmith somewhere in the South Pole? With a forge?

I still can’t get over how dumb the whole eclipse plot was.

Suki is TINY!!!

I mocked this guy’s 80s aerobics video leotard aesthetic, and I stand by that mockery, because this guy is ugly. Those colours are awful. But do you know who else has those colours?

Jet this season fascinates me. He’s positioned as genuinely repentant and legitimately seeking a second chance and I don’t believe him for one minute. Why don’t I believe him? This show has a theme of learning from mistakes and doing better, so shouldn’t Jet be a perfect fit for this show’s themes? I should be primed to believe him. And yet I don’t.

I have to applaud Iron’s enthusiasm for their new life in Ba Sing Se. A lot of that cheer (at least before the tea shop) is put on for Zuko’s sake. I don’t know where Iroh gets the energy to keep trying with Zuko after years of minimal results, but I’m glad he does.

I think Aang and Ty Lee should hang out. They have similar circus energy. Or maybe it’s that they’re the only two characters in the show so far who are remotely playful.

Aang = surface silliness, core of calm. Not that the silliness doesn't run deep, but he seems to have an untouchable anchor of calm deep within that rarely gets disturbed. Gyatso raised him well.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~Poetry bouncer ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

I need next season to have more Appa & Mono subplots à la their escapades in The Swamp. Not à la Momo’s Tale.

Tales of Ba Sing Se definitive ranking: Momo Aang Sokka Zuko Iroh Katara & Toph

I love that Momo still sleeps in the Momo bag from The Blind Bandit

Are Suki and her warriors sitting in the middle of some Earth Kingdom forest in their underwear?

So are Smellerbee and Longshot just done? Will they be back in season 3? What happens to their life now? They are known associates of an enemy of the state who was just executed. It doesn't look good.

Everyone on this show has big ears. Zuko has the smallest ears simply because he has the least amount of ears remaining. But everyone else? Big ears.

Can I have more Gyatso? I forgot how cool he was. More Guru too please.

Hakodilf.

Everyone in the SWT has such wonderfully fluffy hair.

I like Sokka’s boots. Southern Water Tribe boots in general.

If this is the grand total of the SWT, I have some bad news about population dynamics.

Is there a proper naval term for what the SWT are doing? They’re a stealth strike force that seems to be going after individual enemy ships, using both direct and indirect tactics. Not pirates, because as far as we know they aren't going for FN supplies. They're doing what submarines do, but above water. There’s got to be a proper name for that.

Is there a raft of FN corpses chilling in the waters in front of the NWT's big wall?

I saw ATLA described as a show where all the characters are Asian-inspired people of colour, but isn’t Suki a blue-eyed redhead?

I had no idea that you could decline an Agni Kai. Zuko should have done that.

Why are the Dai Li so in love with Azula? I get that they're pissed with Long Feng for getting arrested, but wouldn't the logical choice be to direct their loyalties to the Earth King rather than a wildcard princess? I'm not going to pretend for a minute that the Dai Li are loyal to the Earth Kingdom or to Ba Sing Se, but the Earth King is a known quantity. Seems to me that it would be easier for them to re-puppetify him, rather than a FN princess.

Katara & Zuko bonding over their missing mothers is the same “makes sense until you think about it for five seconds” as Song & Zuko bonding over losing their fathers to war. Technically the same, sort of, on paper, but actually kind of rude to equate them once you know the full story. Same with the parallel between Lu Ten and the older brother in Zuko Alone. The proper dead mom parallel is Katara and Jet. Although Katara doesn’t object to the Zuko comparison, so I have no grounds to do so.

I’m really glad that Katara didn’t remove Zuko’s scar with her spirit oasis water. Both because she kind of really needed that water, but also because one thing this show has always done right is permanence. No quick fixes, no fake outs, no take backs. Lu Ten is dead, and he stays that way. Princess Yue is the moon, and she stays that way. Half a dozen people’s moms are dead, and they stay that way. Aang is the last Airbender, and he stays that way. Zuko is scarred, and he stays that way. There are no hand waves, no easy fixes. All the characters can do is learn to live with it, and go forward. And I’m grateful the show is like that, because that permanence, as well as being a good lesson to learn, functions as a reward for audience investment.

Aang did come to a crossroads of destiny in the finale, chose his duties to the world over his friends, and got aggressively slapped down for it. I have a feeling that he’ll take the wrong lesson from that, since he was already inclined to shun that path.

Overall Season 1 was prettier.

Ty Lee was the cause of more than one Beat Up Sokka Quota fulfillment this season. Make of that what you will.

Will Zuko & Azula spend season 3 bouncing between the FN and Ba Sing Se? They could be heavily involved with establishing the FN governance over Ba Sing Se, since the city is already inclined towards royalty.

Favourite episode this season? The Guru. The Blind Bandit and The Swamp are tied for second place.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #season 2 #we're getting close to season 3 #just wanted to do some housekeeping first #I still think Airbender Sokka is underrated as a concept

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talonabraxas · 1 month

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The Secret of the Golden Flower Talon Abraxas

A MAGIC SPELL FOR THE FAR JOURNEY

Master Lu Tzu said: Yu Ching has left behind him a magic spell for the Far Journey:

Words crystallize the spirit in the place of power. The sixth month the white snow is suddenly seen to fly. The third watch the disk of the sun sends out shining rays. The water blows the wind of gentleness. Wandering in Heaven, one eats the spirit-power of the receptive. The deeper secret within the secret: land that is nowhere, that is the true home.

These verses are full of mystery. The meaning is: The most important thing in the Great Meaning is the four words: non-action in action. Non-action prevents a person from becoming entangled in form and image (substantiality). Action in non-action prevents a person from sinking into numbing emptiness and a dead nothingness. The effect is in the two eyes. The two eyes are like the pole of the Great Wain which turns the whole of creation; the cause the poles of Light and darkness to rotate. The Elixir depends from beginning to end on the One; the metal in the middle of the water, that is, the lead in the water-region. Heretofore we have spoken of the circulation of the Light, indicating thereby the initial release which works from without upon what lies within. This is to aid one in obtaining the Master. It is for the pupils in the beginning stages. They go through the two lower transitions in order to gain the upper one. After the sequence of events is clear and the nature of the release is known, Heaven no longer withholds the Meaning, but reveals the ultimate truth. Disciples keep it secret and hold to it strictly!

The circulation of the Light is the inclusive term. The further the work advances, the more can the Golden Flower bloom. But there is a still more marvelous kind of circulation. Til now we have worked from the outside on what is within; now we tarry in the center and rule what is external. Hitherto, it was a service in aid of the Master; now it is a dissemination of the commands of this Master. The whole relationship is now reversed. If one wants to penetrate the more delicate regions by this method, one must first see to it that the body and heart are completely controlled, that one is quite free and at peace, letting go of all entanglements, untroubled by the slightest excitement, with the Heavenly Heart exactly in the middle. Then let one lower the lids of the two eyes as if one received a holy edict, a summons to the minister. Who would dare disobey? Then one illumines the house of the abysmal (water) with both eyes. Wherever the Golden Flower appears, the true Light of polarity goes out to meet it. The principle of that which adheres to (lightness), is light outside and dark within; it is the body of the creative. Darkness enters and becomes master. The results is that the heart (consciousness), becomes dependent on things, is directed outward, and is tossed about on the stream. When the rotating Light shines within the heart, it does not become dependent on things, the power of the dark is limited, and the Golden Flower shines with concentration. It is then the collected Light of polarity. Things that are related attract each other. Thus does the polarity Light-line of the abysmal press upward. It is not only the Light in the abyss, but it is creative Light meeting creative Light. As soon as these two substances meet each other, they unite inseparably, and unceasing life begins; it comes and goes, and rises and falls of itself, in the house of primordial power. One is aware of effulgence and infinity. The whole body feels lighter and would like to fly. This is the state of which it is said: Clouds fill the thousand mountains. Gradually it (life) goes here and there quite quietly; it rises and falls imperceptibly. The pulse stands still and breathing stops. This is the moment of true creative unity, the state of which it is said: The moon gathers up the ten thousand waters. In the midst of this darkness, the Heavenly Heart suddenly begins a movement. This is the return of the one Light, the time when the child comes to life.

But the details of this must be carefully explained. When a person looks at something, listens to something, eyes and ears move and follow the things until they have passed. These movements are all underlings, and when the Heavenly ruler follows them in their tasks, it means: To live together with demons.

If now, during every movement and every moment of rest, a person lives together with people and not with demons, then the Heavenly ruler is the t rue man. When he moves and we move with him, the movement is the root of Heaven. When he is quiet and we are quiet with him, this quietness is the cave of the moon. When he continues to alternate movement and quietness, one ought to go on with him unceasingly in movement and quietness. If he rises and falls with inhaling and exhaling, we must rise and fall with him. That is what is called going to and fro between the root of Heaven and the cave of the moon.

When the Heavenly Heart still preserves calm, movement before the right time is a fault of softness. When the Heavenly Heart has already moved, the movement that follows afterwards, corresponding with it, is a fault or rigidity. As soon as the Heavenly Heart is stirring, one must immediately mount with all one's feeling to the house of the creative. Thus the Light of the spirit sees the summit that is the leader. This movement is in accord with the time. The Heavenly Heart rises to the summit of the creative, where it expands in complete freedom. Then suddenly it wants the deepest silence, and one must lead it speedily and with one's whole being into the yellow castle. Thus the eyes behold the central yellow dwelling place of the spirit.

When the desire for silence comes, not a single thought arises; he who is look ing inward suddenly forgets that he looks. At this time, body and heart must be left completely free. All entanglements disappear without trace. Then I no longer know at what place the house of my spirit and my crucible are. If a man wants to make certain of his body, he cannot get at it. This condition is the penetration of Heaven into earth, the time when all wonders return to their roots.

The One is the circulation of the Light. If one begins, it is at first scattered and one tries to collect it; the six senses are not active. This is the care and nourishment of one's own origin, the filling up of the oil when one goes to receive life. When one is far enough to have gathered it, one feels light and free and need take no further trouble. This is the quieting of the spirit in the space of the ancestors, the taking possession of former Heaven.

When one is so far advanced that every shadow and every echo has disappeared, so that one is quiet and firm, it is safe within the cave of power, where all that is miraculous returns to its roots. The place is not changed but divides itself. It is incorporeal space where a thousand and ten thousand places are one place. The time is not changed, but divides itself. It is immeasurable time when all the eons are like a moment.

As long as the heart has not attained complete peace, it cannot move itself. One moves the movement and forgets the movement; this is not movement in itself. Therefore it is said: If, when stimulated by external things, one is moved, it is the instinct of the being. If, when not stimulated by external things, one is moved, it is the movement of Heaven. The being that is placed over against Heaven, can fall and come under the domination of the instincts. The instincts are based upon the fact that there are external things. They are thoughts that go on beyond their own position. Then movement leads to movement. But, when no idea arises, the right ideas come. That is the true idea. If things are quiet and one is quite firm, the release of Heaven suddenly moves. Is this not a movement without purpose? Action in inaction has the same meaning.

As to the beginning of the poem, the first two lines refer entirely to the activity of the Golden Flower. The two next lines are concerned with the mutual interpenetration of sun and moon. The sixth month is the adhering fire. The white snow that flies, is the true darkness of polarity in the middle of the fire sign, that is about to turn into the receptive. The third watch is the abysmal water. The sun's disk is the one polar line in the sign for water, which is about to turn into the creative. In this is contained the way to take the sign for the abysmal and the way to reverse the sign for the adhering fire. The following two lines have to do with the activity of the pole of the Great Wain, the rise and fall of the whole release of polarity. Water is the sign of the abysmal; the eye is the wind of softness. The light of the eyes illumines the house of the abysmal, and controls there the seed of the great Light. "In Heaven" means the house of the creative. "Wandering, in Heaven, one eats the spirit-power of the receptive." This shows how the spirit penetrates the power, and how Heaven penetrates the earth; this happens so that the fire can be nourished.

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mirageofadesert · 10 months

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"Out of time" - Appreciation post for Li Susu portrayed by Bai Lu

Out of time: Traumatized Time Traveler

Li Susu is chosen by fate, time and birthright to fight the Devil God. She has bravely faced him to protect her family, her sect and her world - and lost them all in the blink of a (red, sexy) eye. Travelling 500 years into the past to prevent the rise of the Devil God has left her traumatised and overwhelmed. On top of that, she has to find her way into Ye Xiwu's life, which has left her a mess.

Through it all, Li Susu never loses her distinctive personality. She has a strong moral compass, cares and loves easily. Within a few weeks, she reciprocates the love of Ye Xiwu's family and, according to Bai Lu, develops feelings for Tantai Jin's relative early on. She is also cheerful, cheeky and stubborn, but also smart and modest. This is where Bai Lu's charisma, chemistry and comic timing really shine.

As an audience, we see the world through her eyes. I have seen complaints about her early behaviour - described as cruel and contradictory towards Tantai Jin. It seems that one thing that divides the audience of Till The End Of The Moon isn't simply their opinion of Ye Xiwu early on, but rather the ability to emphasize with her character and behaviour. It seems that some people fail to understand her complexity. She is not mean or vengeful, she is overwhelmed and traumatised. Li Susu struggles to find the right path between her own morality, her developing feelings for Tantai Jin and her mission. I find this inner conflict fascinating and well portrayed by Bai Lu. She doesn't act in a logical way - but how could she do such a thing given the extraordinary circumstances she faces? I think the inner logic of her character is coherent.

Her introduction as the main character is well done, both in terms of writing and acting. We meet her at one of the worst moments of her life, which gives Bai Lu a chance to show off her acting skills right away. For me, a lot of dramas lack compelling female leads, especially before the character development unfolds, so seeing Li Susu's emotional turmoil in the first episode gave her depth and range from the start.

Out of time with the society around her

There is another meaning of the phrase "out of time" which I think fits Li Susu quite well: In the musical sense, it means "not in accordance with the appropriate musical rhythm or tempo". It refers to her not dancing to the same beat as everyone else around her. This is not only because of the time travel, but also because of her upbringing as an immortal "pure spirit body" in an isolated sect. This position as an outsider makes her a more relatable character to modern audiences.

Li Susu doesn't fit into the social and gender roles of her new era. Like the century-old demon Pianran, she defies these norms. She is free-spirited but righteous, conflicted but persevering.

The show challenges us to root for more multiple characters whose goals are at odds with each other. And if the audience is able to keep track of these different perspectives, and keep up with the tension of the resulting contradictions, the plot becomes a nuanced and complex story about the greater good of the world as well as the struggle to control one's own destiny.

I found Li Susu very likeable and enjoyed her journey through three arcs. However, I regret that the last arc was cut and that her character development was not allowed to fully unfold.

Out of time in her relationship with Tantai Jin

Li Susu and Tantai Jin are out of time in every sense of the phrase. As they travel through three arcs, three worlds and two lifetimes, they are never quite on the same page, never quite in sync.

In the first arc, Li Susu hides her true intentions and can therefore never fully reciprocate Tantai Jin's feelings. Tantai Jin then spends 500 years desperately searching for a spirit whose real name he doesn't even know.

In the final arc, Li Susu tries to move on from Tantai Jin while he still tries to resurrect Ye Xiwu. Once reunited, she tries to peruse the Heartless Way to seal the evil bone, while he tries to win her back.

They only get into rhythm for a brief moment after their betrothal before they are separated in preparation for their wedding.

In the final episodes, their initial roles are reversed, with Tantai Jin hiding his true intentions for the greater good and lying to Li Susu. He is running out of time to let her ascend to godhood and stop the All-in-Distress Way before it destroys everything. Even as gods, they are still not on the same page, as Tantai Jin denies her the choice to follow him into death and rebirth, instead tricking her into living on alone.

Nothing symbolises this theme better than the final scenes at their graves: visiting them and mourning each other at different times, never to be reunited again. This scene is so heartbreaking that even after watching the show four times, I still can't make GIFs of it because it makes me cry.

Never out of place: Bai Lu's acting

Bai Lu's acting is another highlight of the show. While her chemistry with Luo Yunxi is well documented, she actually manages to have great (non-romantic) chemistry with the entire cast. Their relationships always feel ingenious and alive. Between Luo Yunxi and Bai Lu, the showrunners have managed to hire four very impressive and emotional eyebrows!

Bai Lu's facial expressions are always on point and elevate her scenes. While her approach to comedy involves exaggerated facial expressions, in more serious moments she is able to portray many different emotions at once without it feeling out of place.

I have talked a lot about Luo Yunxi's acting in the show, but I think Bai Lu deserves a lot of credit for her role beyond their chemistry. She is such a joy to watch on screen! From funny to heart-wrenchingly sad, she made me go through so many emotions and tissues. To be able to touch the audience in such a profound way is the highest compliment I can give her!

Behind the scenes, Bai Lu is a vibrant and dedicated person who gives her best to every scene: Be it immersing herself in mentally demanding or physically exhausting scenes. I'm looking forward to getting to know more of her acting.

Edit: Spelling!

#till the end of the moon #tteotm #bai lu #ye xiwu #luo yunxi #cdrama meta #tantai jin

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sgdlr-asdfghjkl · 9 months

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In reference to my post abt Li Tianxi being the only character who could possibly know a crumb of Lu Guang's lore from reading his memories and @matchacreamlatte addition that it was the true reason she started crying.

I feel bad for laughing but it's surprisingly versatile reaction pic ><'

Here's the template, use it wisely~

#link click #link click s2 #link click spoilers #shiguang dailiren #link click memes #lu guang #li tianxi #I am so sorry Li Tianxi #*sees The Photo*#cries

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best-underrated-anime · 5 months

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Best Underrated Anime Group H Round 2: #H7 vs #H3

#H7: Isekai subversion, now with more women and good writing.

#H3: Two guys time-travel through photos. Depression ensues.

Details and poll under the cut!

#H7: The Executioner and Her Way of Life (Shokei Shoujo no Virgin Road)

youtube

Summary:

Average student Mitsuki Mutou suddenly finds himself transported to another realm. Summoned by the king of this world for the remarkable power he is supposed to possess, Mitsuki is thrown out when it appears that he lacks a Special Concept. Moping about, he encounters a priestess named Menou who explains that Japanese people like him are known as Lost Ones, and such individuals never fail to have Special Concepts.

Menou elaborates that she is part of a church that helps abandoned Lost Ones integrate into society. She invites him to spend the night at her church, where the two can probe the nature of his ability. Eventually, they discover that Mitsuki's Special Concept is actually incredibly powerful and dangerous.

But is Menou's true goal to assist Lost Ones—or the opposite?

Propaganda 1:

An isekai that forgoes the usual tropes and exceedingly dull, whitebread protagonist in favor of a cast consisting more or less exclusively of varying flavors of deranged lesbians.

As a bonus, a certain scene halfway through the first episode made a lot of the worst parts of the anime community SO mad, and I feel like that’s worth something in and of itself.

Propaganda 2:

An isekai subversion that doesn’t feel like it’s subversive for the sake of being trendy! All of its unique parts have lore to explain them, and the world building of the series is super intriguing. The power mechanics are well-thought-out, and the fighting is unique and beautifully animated! Another strong part is the character relationships; I love the various dynamics between the main cast, and I love how none of them are reduced to mere tropes, as anime loves to do with its women. It’s also very funny, and the protagonist is one of my favorites <3333

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Suicide. Suicide is basically a deuteragonist’s goal, but it isn’t shown.

#H3: Link Click (Shiguang Dailiren)

Summary:

Best friends, roommates, and business partners Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang run a photo studio, developing pictures and the like. But that’s not all they do. The Shiguang Photo Studio has a secret extra service—they can deliver messages you never got to send and find information you never got to learn, so long as you bring a photograph, or maybe several.

Their method? A clap of the hands, and Cheng Xiaoshi dives into the past and into the body of the photographer. Guided by Lu Guang, he has twelve hours to achieve his goal, whether that is finding a secret, saying goodbye, or winning a fight.

Assisted by their friend and landlady Qiao Ling, the duo navigates a gallery of corporate lies, interpersonal drama, old regrets, and crime. In the second season, threads that began in the first episode of season one continues, showcasing the same level of brilliant writing and even higher stakes for our beloved characters.

Propaganda:

“Past or future, just let them be” is a message that is repeated throughout the show. At first, you’d think it’s just a matter of course, but after enough times of hearing it, it becomes depressing.

How can Cheng Xiaoshi be indifferent when he can feel the emotions of the person he’s possessing? When their pain becomes his pain as well? And so what if the person before him is already dead? At this moment, their hands feel so warm and alive.

This is where Lu Guang comes in. While Cheng Xiaoshi is the empathic and reckless type, Lu Guang is the cold and rational type. They balance each other out, and when they have conflicts, they face it maturely. They also care for each other so so much that the moment the other is in danger, all their principles get thrown out the window just to ensure the other person’s safety.

In s1, we watch them take on their clients’ orders. Through this, the show’s beauty is revealed: Simplicity and Sincerity.

Simplicity, because for a time-travel show, you’d expect the tasks to involve the fate of the world or something, but no. All the people Cheng Xiaoshi have dived into have been your everyday person—an office woman who gets harassed at work, a restaurant owner who’s grown estranged from her best friend, a man who wants to gain the approval of his girlfriend’s family, etc. Even when the stakes go high in s2, the core of the conflicts still lie in the character’s personal problems—which may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but they are not any less important. And I think this is nice. It’s hard to relate to grand plots, but it’s easy to relate to the day-to-day struggles that humans face.

Then Sincerity, because every single character is treated with care. Even characters you’ll never see again past their arcs manage to be impactful and unforgettable. They’ll claw their way into your heart and just stay there. I’ve rewatched s1 three times, but I still cry every time it reaches the basketball arc 😭. Then in s2, even the antagonists will grab for their share of your tears.

And you begin to question—Should they really just let the past or future be? If changing the past could save someone, is it really that bad?

The answer revealed in the s2 finale was so shocking that #link click trended for the first time ever on Tumblr after the episode aired, which is a feat in itself, considering how small the fandom is.

It has great animation, too. I especially love the 360° shots in some key scenes in s2 for they really amped up the tension. The fight scenes are also well-choreographed.

And all the music are bangers! S1 opening makes you wanna learn finger tutting, while the s2 opening is a masterpiece that leaves you in awe. (The s2 second chorus is just the first chorus played in reverse, making it sound like time is being rewinded. Fucking genius!)

If you still don’t watch Link Click after reading this, then you’ll be missing out in one of the greatest animated shows of all time. Just do yourself a favor and watch it already.

Trigger Warnings:

S1: Flashing lights in the opening, attempted and implied sexual harassment, slight panic attack, death, kidnapping, drugging, suicide, blood. Complete list of TW’s for s1 can be found here (it may be spoilery)

S2: Fast-changing images in the opening, domestic abuse, child abuse, emotional abuse, violence, blood, murder.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

#anime #donghua #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #group stage #group stage round 2 #tournament polls #group h #the executioner and her way of life #teahwol #shokei shoujo no virgin road #link click #shiguang dailiren #时光代理人 #shi guang dai li ren

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