#way of the elemental disciple

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About the "kwamis as mentors" angle: Interesting to read and analyse, yet I can't help but feel they were not necessarily meant to be seen as mentors. At least to me, they seemed to be kind of whacky mascot characters who are tied to the lore, who have a personality to crack a joke or point something out or cause a little situation or be cute, but nothing more.

They are rather naive magical entities chained to jewelry (a fact they don't seem to mind that much or think about at all except for Plagg) and all that talk about "being around for 5000 years" and having seen many holders before is just there to make them seem more wise than they actually act like. From what I've seen on the show I would even assume there's a threshold to how much they can even mature emotionally and understand humans. Sometimes Tikki and Plagg even come off as indifferent and egoistical towards their holders (like an example you gave with Tikki, or Plagg's fixation on cheese over Adrien at times).

So...sorry if I missed it, but why do you view them as mentor characters? You made an interesting post about rom-com vs magical girl and the magical girl part is exactly why I always viewed them just as critters to appeal to kids, but nothing more. I can see that the show's writing is so inconsistent that sometimes they are portrayed as wise but more often then not they are just background noise to get a little interaction on screen so that the characters are not talking to themselves about miraculous stuff or to point something out for the audience.

The show's writing is pretty weird, so there are elements that are hard to get a clear read on. The Kwamis are one such element. When they're one-on-one with their chosen, they often feel like mentors to me. When they're all together, they almost always read like "critters to appeal to kids" (mostly because there are too many of them to let them have individual personalities when they're all together). So while I think that they're supposed to be mentors, it's not like that's the only canon-accurate read.

To dig into what I mean by the one-on-one writing, let's look at this exchange from Feast:

Master Fu: See, Wayzz? If Marinette had kept her Miraculous, the sentimonster would have swallowed her right up. Wayzz: Or she would have transformed into Ladybug and fought it. Master Fu: Sometimes fighting is futile, Wayzz.

And then later on we get this:

Wayzz: Master, look! Ladybug and Cat Noir, despite their ridiculous costumes, they haven't let you down! Wang Fu: That's impossible! They don't have their Miraculous! Wayzz: Master, it's obvious it's them—who else would do something so crazy? Cat Noir (Adrien): Hey, have a taste of this! Some exploding banana split from Bananoir! Ladybug (Marinette): Much tastier than any Miraculous! Wayzz: Look, Master, there's no use in running! Your disciples never give up the fight, no matter what! With or without their Miraculous, they are Ladybug and Cat Noir!

That's some pretty active mentoring right there.

Wayzz is probably the character that feels the most like a mentor to me. When he's with Fu, he feels like Fu's partner or adviser, which is why I think that the Kwami's aren't supposed to just be cute critters. They're regular ol' Jimmy Crickets meant to act as a conscience that the characters can talk to since this is visual media and you want a way for the characters to talk through their thoughts instead of having them do it all internally.

I also present this exchange from Desperada as evidence:

Adrien: Plagg, Ladybug needs me. She needs "Adrien"! Plagg: If you asked me, this whole idea is worse than cheese in a can. Adrien: She thinks I'm the perfect guy for this mission. Plagg: You can't be Cat Noir and another superhero at the same time! Which means that you're not the perfect guy for this mission. Adrien: The Lucky Charm told her I am. Plagg: That's not how it works. Why am I bothering? You're not even listening.

We then get Plagg reiterating that this is a bad idea through multiple loops, ending with this:

Plagg: Ah! At last, you've come to your senses. Adrien: I'm not sure Ladybug will have very fond memories of her experience with "Adrien Agreste". Plagg: Then make up for it as Cat Noir.

See? I told you Plagg can be a good mentor when he wants to! Tikki, take notes!

I'd even call this bit from Sapitos some quality subtle mentoring from Trixx:

Alya: Oh please, Ladybug! We'd make a great team! I could help Cat Noir and you every day! Ladybug:(her earrings ring) I'm about to transform back! Hurry! Alya: Please? Ladybug: I have to go! I'm trusting you! (opens a nearby door and goes inside, so she can detransform) Trixx: You're absolutely right, Alya. I'm sure the three of you would make quite the team! You have all the makings of a true superhero. You're strong, brave; but most of all, you're trustworthy.

Way to both build Alya up and reminder her of her duty, Trixx. Gold star. Quality mentorship!

So are the Kwamis supposed to be mentors? Who knows! I just see them fill the role often enough to feel comfortable judging them through that lens.

Miraculous also isn't the only magical girl team show to make the cute critters into mentors. That's a pretty standard path even though it's also common to see the critters used to sell merch/appeal to kids and nothing more. In terms of classic magical girl team shows, I'd say that the Kwamis are written way more like Luna and Artemis from Sailor Moon than Mini Mew from Tokyo Mew Mew.

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

[tosahobi-if]

GAME OUT NOW

Misfortune begets misfortune; evil will prey upon itself. Just as how the fox cannot live without the rabbit, the predator must understand what rises will fall.

Long before you were born, the Great Calamity, a calculated effort by Magyo cultists nearly wiped out the entirety of the Jungpa sects. If not for the noble sacrifice of the peerless Sword Saint of the Mount Hua Sect: the Divine Blade, Yeo Jinhu, demonic forces would have rent the heavens and the earth asunder.

Despite his triumph, nothing would ever be the same – the losses were staggering, the task of rebuilding the sects to their former glory seemed to prove an insurmountable challenge. Yet nearly two decades after his death, peace returned to the land once more.

After the death of your parents, you lead an ordinary, if not monotonous, life as the playmate of the spoiled young master of the Mount Hua Sect. However, all is not what it seems. Following the mysterious arrival of an amnesiac with strange abilities, whispers of a plot brewing in the shadows start to surface, and the world as you know it begins to fall apart around your feet.

Suddenly confronted with the uncertainty of the future, you must unravel the tragedy of what truly conspired all those years ago before you risk losing all you hold dear.

tosahobi (18+) is a muhyeop choose-your-own adventure game centered around elements of korean folklore and taoism in a tale of family, grief, and heritage.

play as a customizable main character: choose their physical appearance, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and more.

explore different relationships: from platonic to romantic to familial, build a variety of relationships with the cast (and hopefully make more friends than you do enemies.)

choose from different skill sets: pick between medicine, weaponry, tactics, and hand-to-hand combat. each field comes with its own advantages and disadvantages that affect multiple scenarios as the story progresses.

choice-driven story: with several routes and (many) choices, fail or succeed and find your way to an ending (whether it be happy or not.)

something is incredibly wrong: can you feel it too?

THE YOUNG MASTER

Yeo Jinwol of the Mount Hua Sect, is the youngest son of the sect leader. Contrary to his charming public demeanor, he has a childish side and can be extraordinarily stubborn. Having grown up in the shadow of his elder brothers he is fiercely protective of those he considers precious to him and struggles to measure up to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Assigned his playmate at a young age, whether you consider it fortuitous or not the two of you have been stuck together for years.

THE ENIGMA

Yul is your sajae, a disciple under the same master as you. Despite their amnesia, they're preternaturally talented at whatever they set their mind to. With strange yet unexplainable abilities that seem to stretch far beyond the scope of their powers, their missing memories may be the key to unlocking the answers you seek. Reclusive yet dedicated you'd almost think they were far, far older than their age if not for their intense sweet tooth and their tendency to follow you around like a very clingy second shadow.

THE PRODIGY

Baek Iseul, the Frozen Blade, is the rising star Emei Sect and has long been hailed as the next Sword Saint. Contrary to her cheerful personality you've never met anyone with a sharper gaze before. Hailing from obscurity, her power rivals even those who have trained for years and years, and has amassed an ever-growing collection of heroic feats under her belt. Popular and well-liked with a mischievous streak, you're really not sure why someone with such a promising future has taken a liking to you.

???

if to transcend means to leave the world behind, bind me to the soil so even long after my death, long after my body has turned to dust, i can find you once more.

[afsosville]

You know what would've been nice? Shen Jiu ending up on a different peak that's actually good for him. Maybe Qian Cao, or the beast taming peak could've been hella therapeutic. Or the alcohol/brewery peak to drown away all his sorrows. But what if he stayed fucked up, in a way that's actually good and productive for society? Yeah, I wanna toss him over to Yin Hui and let him run wild! I've seen many iterations of Yin Hui, the fanon peak for espionage and poisons in fanfics. By extension, Yin Hui is also covertly the assassination peak, and I wish this peak got more attention around here tbh. Why do I think this peak is the most well suited for Shen Jiu? BECAUSE ASSASSINS. Duh.

So here comes a baby demonic cultivator Shen Jiu and the Yin Hui peak lord immediately wants him. Shen Jiu would be more readily accepted by his peak martial siblings, and no one would bat an eye at Shen Jiu, his standoffish personality or shady past. A lot of Yin Hui disciples are from questionable backgrounds since the Yin Hui peak lord naturally has to be very particular about selecting their disciples. Yin Hui was established to protect the sect and its people by any means necessary. Sure, the rest of the sect may fight against the supernatural, demons, and the undead, but Yin Hui fights an even greater monster: people.

The Yin Hui peak lord manipulated things so that the first impression the rest of the sect has about Shen Jiu is 'that new badass Yin Hui disciple that killed the criminal Wu Yanzi and saved the future sect leader!' (Seeing as Wu Yanzi would be the very sort of ppl they assassinate, he's already getting goated on Yin Hui too.) So Shen Jiu is known as that new prodigious disciple from Yin Hui and is getting some goddamn respect! And just because of his association with his peak, fewer people are inclined to question his background and whatnot since there's an understanding that the identity of the YH disciples needs to be heavily guarded. The Yin Hui peak lord finds out about the Qiu's soon enough, and they erase any and all traces leading back to Shen Jiu. Even framing it in a way that makes it look like WY did the massacre. Any credibility Qiu Haitang could've had for Shen Jiu's murder accusations is thrown out the window. (Ain’t no way in hell the Yin Hui peak lord is going to name SJ that stupid trauma inducing name like a certain Qing Jing peak lord, that's for sure.)

I'm pulling in elements from MDZS over here. In my version of Yin Hui, they have disciples who practice demonic cultivation, but they make sure it's in a safer way that won't hurt them. There's a surprising number of disciples who have damaged cultivation and chose to cultivate the ghost path. The previous generations of Yin Hui peak lords have created Wei Wuxian's inventions in this AU, and is used by the rest of the peak, like the compass of ill winds, paper metamorphosis, the spirit attraction flag, and empathy. I lowkey want a Wei Wuxian that's native to SV to be the Yin Hui peak lord, now that I think about it. He's good with his kiddos and would be an awesome shizun. And ofc, Shen Jiu is a reflection of his environment, so he's certainly making an example out of Wei Wuxian, one of the only positive influences in his life.

Shen Jiu still has his violent tendencies, so nothing has changed about that, but he learns to take that pent-up energy out on missions instead. And he does them well. It even gives him an edge. Everyone else thinks he's just reallyyy good at his job, as expected of the talented head disciple of Yin Hui!!

He really does try his best to not be an ass (bc he gets the love he deserves on Yin Hui) and ends up venting in a different way (coz he knows better than to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.) His shizun really gave him the free reign to kill sl@ve trad3rs, human tr@ffick3rs, r-ists, and other scum whenever he wanted, in the name of stress relief lol. If killing a particular person becomes politically complicated, like the Old Palace Bastard, then you best believe he's going to scheme like the little schemer he is. He's going to Nie Huaisang the OPM.

Since Shen Jiu is not salty about his fucked up cultivation, and his martial siblings respect him, they get along just fine. His cultivation is some parts similar to Wei Wuxian's: Shen Jiu is a ghost cultivator influenced by music. Sure, he may not be that great of a spiritual cultivator, so what? He's pulling up like the Yiling Patriarch with his demonic cultivation and a haunted guqin of his own.

And guess what? Shen Jiu enjoys teaching. He's training miniature assassins, spies, and the art of demonic cultivation, so forgive him if he's more than a little enthusiastic about it. I imagine that he's exactly like Shifu from kung fu panda when it comes to teaching. Still extremely harsh and strict when training, but outside of actually teaching, he's an attentive and caring shizun. And yes, he completely does act like a father figure who is proud of his murder babies, and ends up being called A-Ba so much that all of Cang Qiong thinks he's officially adopted every single one of his disciples. (After being saved by SJ on a mission, NYY persistently begs SJ to take her in even though he desperately thinks Yin Hui isn't a good fit for her. And then, after being under him for a while, she's completed her first mission successfully, has smn else's blood on her face, and is smiling brightly. 

Ning Yingying: "I completed my mission shizun! Are you proud of me?"

Shen Jiu: "..."

Some other peaklord: "Haha like father like daughter! She's definitely your girl alright!"

Shen Jiu: "...!?!" )

Yue Qingyuan is conerneth about his Xiao Jiu, but as long as he's happy, who cares. Shen Jiu has a better relationship with the other peak lords, so when asked about why he visits brothels, he straight up tells them that it's the best place to gather information in the dark. He doesn't have that mentality of "why explain myself when no ones finna believe me anyway" He actually trusts them and is more honest with time. Shen Jiu does come clean about killing the Qiu's at some point, and the peak lords are all like-

"I didn't hear shit"

"See, I'm blind in my left eye, and 75% blind in my right-"

"Completely understandable, Shen shidi!"

They don't even ask why he did it and just assume he had a valid reason, and he absolutely fucking did.

Oh, Shen Jiu gets accused of playing dirty? Liu Qingge, he literally kills ppl and makes poison as a daytime fucking job ofc he's gonna play dirty! Shen Jiu tried killing you that one time on the well mission? Bro you good? The fact that you think he tried to kill you and failed?? You just insulted an entire peak of disciples and their ancestors. You would've been dead before you could even think of sensing their killing intent if it were true. And there was a witness too, doofus. Be fucking for real. Nahh coz there definitely would be more people who are taking Shen Jiu's side whenever the two of them fight.

Shen Jiu uses a shit ton of versatile weapons because most of his fighting and cultivation prowess comes from his wits and adapting to fighting with different styles/methods. He is kinda similar to Xie Lian bc both of them lack spiritual energy/qi (damaged spirit roots in Shen Jiu's case), but that does not mean they are weaker. It just means they learned to train their body and minds instead of relying on cultivation/qi. He has a massive arsenal of weapons along with the demonic cultivation. (Airport security would hate him)

Yin Hui has got to be my favorite fanon peak, and Yin Hui! Shen Jiu plauges so many of my waking thoughts, I can't stop-

I can add elements from my other hyperfixation into this AU, the Avatar Chronicles. Which are the written books from ATLA. The criminal organization Kyoshi joined, the Daofei, for example, could be a good plot point. Or the Platinum Affair from the Yangchen books. If you don’t know what the Avatar Chronicles are, just ignore this last part lol.

[hawkinasock]

I ADORE YOU. MORE ABUNDANCE YANQING AND YAOSHI. PLEASE.

So, can you please learn more tell about this theory?

(You draw beautifully.)

GAAAGHHHH this was the first thing I saw in the morning omg tsym <333 dw I've got my mitts on and I'll get to cooking o7 I assume you're asking me to explain the theory? Which I'll gladly do. Very long post incoming.

Essentially, the general idea is that Yanqing is related to abundance in some way, be it simply second-hand association, or he himself being an abomination/denizen of abundance himself - I personally believe in the latter. While I've made art of Yaoshi and Yanqing in a parental dynamic, it's not something I see as a viable theory, so much as it's just a fun little crack theory. Yaoshi is more likely a passive creator than an actual loving parent. There's a bunch of different interpretations for what Yanqing is and how he came to be based on the little pieces of evidence found in canon. One piece of evidence is his blonde hair.

As far as I can tell, the only other blonde Xianzhou characters are Dan Shu and Luocha (Luocha isn't a Xianzhou native himself, but he was a part of the quest so I'm including him anyway), both directly associated with the abundance, as well as Yaoshi themselves.

Interestingly enough, Dan Shu has the same hair part as Yanqing, but that could just be chalked up to design cohesion and framing the face/mask, rather than anything meaningful.

Edit: someone pointed out to me that Dan Shu's hair was initially brown, but after joining the disciples, it turned blonde.

Edit: I somehow forgot to include Phantylia, who has blonde hair in her third phase, and even a hair part. There's also a disciple of Sanctus Medicus in a cell in the shackling prison who also has blonde hair. Every character I've found who has blonde hair is either a disciple, or canonically connected to Yaoshi

(I considered adding Hongling, the fanatic fan in the stands of the Skysplitter, but I think his hair might just be dyed, which isn't too crazy an idea for a stan. Still mentioning him though, since he's a really weird character)

If you look closely at Yanqing's clothes, there's a reoccurring vine-esc pattern on all layers of his hanfu. They can also be seen on his sword. It doesn't necessarily mean much by itself, but it's an interesting detail I and others have noticed.

However, I want to point attention to Yanqing's phone case, because it's actually super interesting, and probably the most convincing piece of evidence imo. Not only does it relay the vine motif, but that to me looks like a leaf detaching from a branch and transforming into a swallow. If the characters' phone cases are meant to reflect their personality/reference lore elements, then this is probably the most blatant in terms of potential lore.

Edit: the little decals on the camera lense are in the image of Yanqing's hair ornament, which happens to look like a pair of leaves, midribs and all.

Speaking of swallows, has anyone noticed that there's flocks of golden swallows inside the roots of the arbor? I only noticed on my second playthrough, but I haven't stopped thinking about them since. How odd is it that out of any other bird, the arbor has swallows specifically. Of course, Swallows aren't Yanqing's motif alone, as the wardance teaser silhouette's have what look like swallows in the background art, but I still think it's important to bring up, considering Yanqing is literally COVERED in them, from his ornaments, to his swallow tail-shaped coat tail, to his entire playstyle.

Low-quality ss of the swallows for reference.

Luocha also has a line about Yanqing that, setting aside any theory-crafting, seems pointless. He has nothing to say, which, if he was truly genuine, what purpose does this line even serve? I can't infer much from the delivery of the other languages, since I have no knowledge on them or their social cues, but in en, the tone is very... discreet? It's just the way he says it is very off, like he's being dishonest. Too quick; too matter-of-fact; It's artificial honesty. I hope you get what I mean lol. I can only assume the va was directed to say it that way for a reason.

A passage from Yanqing's 2nd char story reads: "It's recorded in the military annals of the Cloud Knights how Jing Yuan came to discover the young boy, stood his ground against public opinion, and incorporated him into the armed forces. However, in the family lineage column, Yanqing's lineage was relegated to the category of unknown."

From Yanqing's 4th char story: "Some speculated that he [Jing Yuan] was cultivating an heir, others claimed he only kept him around just to use this kid as a secret weapon. Jing Yuan never offered a response."

Jing Yuan is really suspicious. Like, incredibly suspicious. Even more than Luocha. Yanqing is already known to be an orphan, but the lack of clarity over the details of Jy discovering him, as well as the fact that he has no known relatives in their database is very odd. Speaking to Jing Yuan's npc in-game allows the player to inquire about Yanqing's origin, but Jing Yuan's response is far from helpful. You'd think the man who decks out his Lieutenant in protective charms and locks, and who raised the kid from, at oldest, toddler years, would be a little more eager to spurge on about stories from Yanqing's childhood, but he instead chooses to dance around the topic and make light-hearted remarks about Qingzu's furphies. Obviously, you can't and shouldn't expect to get all of a characters lore in one serving, but revealing so little definitely implies a lot more, as we've seen with Luocha.

These details are the reason why, if Yanqing does turn out to be related to the abundance, be it a spawn of the arbor, or a creation of Yaoshi themselves, I believe that at least Jing Yuan knows and is keeping it all under wraps. Maybe the whole reason Jing Yuan assigned him as his aide in the first place was to keep a close eye on him. Rather ironic a general of the hunt would risk everything to protect the thing he's sworn to destroy.

But that's just my two cents. Thank you anon for giving me a reason to spurge about this theory finally, as it's become so dear to my heart.

More art will be posted as I go along, so don't touch that dial.

[vaguely-concerned]

it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up! 

It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.   

‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.

[zykamiliah]

the many ways shen qingqiu loves luo binghe

this was more or less inspired by this post, but because this is gonna be a personal opinion and i don't want to make a thread of it and inadvertently contest with the other two's points, I'm going to make my own post.

so i wanna start saying that "the moment one falls in love" is a trope that's waaaay too overstated. in my opinion. specially because falling in love tends to be something that has to do with romantic love most of the time, and it pretends to establish a sort of timeline, a point of no return, for ships and fictional relationships.

when the stories surrounding the characters are more straightforward, i don't really mind, since it makes sense for there to be an "Oh" moment when the character realizes they are in love. like, we know the moment lbh started to see sqq in a sexual light, and we can roughly add to this that the events of the demon invasion and the nightmare scenario are what sealed the deal for lbh. it helps that he's more honest about his feelings and the sexual awakening had already happened, and we can easily assume that from that point on lbh's feelings have a romantic-sexual side.

it still has other sides... because lbh loves sqq as a shizun, as a parent, and this side of their relationship, the master-disciple and parent-child side, is intrinsic to their dynamic; it's a conflicting element during their prolonged conflict for most of the novel, but at the same time, it's their default when they want to approach each other, it's the "safe zone".

but when it comes to sqq I think it's a much more difficult thing to ask: when does sqq falls in love? when is his Oh moment? Is there one, a conscious realization that he's in love? Can his relationship with lbh be described as "being in love"?

he loved Luo Binghe The Character

—the way a reader loves a favorite character, and fanboyed about him plenty before and after transmigrating. the shadow of what the little sheep he was raising would became was ever-present throughout those first 6 years before their meeting in Jinlan City.

but he loved lbh the character in a fanatical way that wasn't actually real... it was meaningful to him because he liked this fictional character a lot, but it's a safe love from the side of a screen.

he was compelled by lbh the character, by his tragic backstory full of angst, and by the ways lbh the character did things: he "rightfully" took his anger out in the people who'd hurt him and paid back for it tenfold. in a way, sy as a reader was also projecting himself in lbh the character.

in short, he loved the Idea of luo binghe, but not luo binghe as a real person.

he loved Luo Binghe the White Lotus Disciple

—and he loved him like a parent loves a child. yet, as I mentioned, he always kept in mind that this boy would grew up to be a very attractive and sexual man, and thus sqq expected him to have romantic encounters with girls around his age.

i know some people shy away from talking about this because everyone is paranoid about your favorite character being called a pedophile etc etc, but really, sy could be nothing farther from that, and whoever who says that has a very, hmm, wide definition of the word and it's probably just using the buzzword to hate on the character.

the important thing is that, despite sqq being aware that lbh is a potential sexual being and will become very sexually active in the future, he does not in any way sexualize his and lbh's relationship. Like I said, sqq would never abuse his power in that way, and he'd never get it on with someone he sees as a child, his disciple. that lbh is very much viewing their relationship with romantic and sexual lenses is a complete shock for him because of this, along with other reasons and assumptions (that lbh was straight)

the problem here is, precisely, that he treated lbh like a child once, and would go on treating him as a child later, post-holy mausoleum: disregarding lbh's agency, making decisions for him and without asking what lbh wants, since as the parent he obviously Knows Better, and taking responsibility for lbh's "bad behavior". the endless abyss was a decision he made without consulting lbh. he self-detonated because he thought that would be best for everyone, and he intended for his death to (among other things like saving the city and escaping prison) "make up" for his mistakes. in maigu ridge, he almost kills himself again because he thought that would be better for lbh.

he's self-sacrificing, protective, caring, and overall parental/maternal towards lbh, which has it's good and bad sides. for a long time, he loves lbh like a parent loves a child, and though this side of his love for lbh is not lost in the extras, it's lesser in the sense that the power imbalance is nullified, and the parent-child, shizun-disciple side of their relationship turns more into a comforting, safe roleplay that allows them to access intimacy and express their feelings (that infamous "if i was your mother" speech) than the entirety of their relationship.

and the thing is, he always loved and will always love lbh as a parent loves a child. and i think people uncomfortable with this fact have to get around to accepting that lol

he is subconsciously attracted to luo binghe (bingmei) the Man

we all know this part. sqq's descriptions of lbh's beauty are numerous and far too difficult to quote them all, but one that really stands out to me, because it proves the point, is this one:

[Shen Qingqiu] asked, “The important person you’re talking about, was it…a good-looking young man?” When he thought about it, he decided against suppressing his conscience and clarified. “Not just good-looking, he’s very good-looking, especially good-looking. Fair skin, pretty face, tall. He doesn’t smile often, but when he does, it’s exceptionally dark.” chapter 9: borderlands

if he was unaffected by lbh's attractiveness, he wouldn't need to "suppress his conscience" about it. also this description is just... describing lbh's smile from his own pov? a personal feeling? to a stranger? he has it bad.

he's repressing his own feelings, so it's difficult to point to a specific moment as the moment he realizes he's attracted to lbh... because he never has a conscious realization, and he's in constant denial about it. all the way through to the last bingqiu extra, the wedding extra, he'll continue using the same narrative: the Protagonist is Beautiful and Irresistible, so what can sqq do but surrender to him? It's inevitable, really. (hahahaha he can't help but love and be attracted to lbh. it says more about him that he could ever verbalize)

so yeah, sqq really has the hots for lbh the man. but he'll NEVER admit it, he'll never had an Oh moment. Not even when he unconsciously called lbh "husband".

i want to make a clarification: for a character like sqq, who care about his pride and dignity way too much and has internalized homophobia and sexism to the detriment of his own peace of mind and fulfillment, admitting that he enjoys sex is way too shameful. he's never doing it. he mentions being "drunk with lust" in the showdown extra; in the deep dream extra he gets enthusiastic and proactive, initiating sex with lbh himself very smoothly; in the RoC,SoBQ extra he initially asks to do it doggy style and then changes his tune and wants to see lbh's face, DESPITE being embarrassed about it, and his desire is described as wanting the spot inside him to be rammed. all of this are subtle hints of how he really feels about sex, despite his inner struggles with his pride as a man.

another clarification: the way smut is written in western space is not the same as the way is written in chinese novels. for example, some chinese slang put the the top as the one "attacking", as if sex is a sort of fight. there's always this implication that the shou surrenders to the gong. there's a clear distinction of who tops and who bottoms and the roles of husband and wife made by this distinction; pleasure is described differently: phrases like "scalp going numb", "getting goosebumps" are not particular to svsss alone; the way the bodies engaged in the sex act are described, etc. (it IS a different language with a different culture) so it's normal that most of us come out of the extras thinking the smut is not enjoyable for readers or the characters themselves. what is the difference between the mdzs extras and the svsss extras? that wwx, being characterized as a "shameless" person, is very vocal about how he feels during sex. he has no shame around sex, unlike sqq, who is in the opposite side of the shame spectrum.

sqq is still struggling with that part of himself, and personally I think it's very understandable that even until the end of volume 4 he still has a difficult time with it; it's not easy shedding the believes one grows up with.

which bring me to,

he loves luo binghe the Man, "romantically"

—and it's a love that conflates his parental love, his attraction, too, but that starts to develop mostly post-holy mausoleum: it's when the hand-holding starts, somehow, though it develops fulling throughout the extras, when they finally become romantic partners and explore sex together. mxtx traces an arc that starts with the showdown extra, goes through the deep dream extra that has sqq telling lbh that "Tonight I feel like... I live you a great deal" and ends in the wedding extra with sqq calling lbh "husband" unprompted; despite previously agonizing about his loss of face and dignity and the humiliation of it, his actions speak louder than his words and inner thoughts. because of this, functionally, sqq can be read as a tsundere.

but aside from the sex, sqq enjoys domesticity and spending time with lbh; he likes teasing him, conversing with him and going out with him to see the world. post-main novel they're equals in their relationship and treat each other with respect and consideration, even if their shizun-disciple roleplay prevails. by romance definitions, I believe they mostly fit them, even if their relationship is unconventional.

as for when sqq fell in love with lbh? i still don't have a clear answer. he's always loved him; this love evolves through time, bringing him and lbh closer together. personally, i don't think it's not important. sqq loves lbh, and that's what matters.

[whetstonefires]

Underrated element of where Jiang Cheng is re: wwx after everything is that they always had a sort of dual relationship. Two different relationship premises, superimposed on one another.

There's the one where they grew up together, as close as brothers, beating each other up and complaining and being one another's closest companions, sharing a bedroom as kids and eating at the same family dinner table, actively encouraged by Jiang Fengmian to interact as equals.

And then there's the one where Wei Wuxian was in service to Jiang Cheng's family. Not as a servant--Jiang Fengmian absolutely refused to do that, even if he couldn't adopt him. But as a disciple of Jiang Cheng's father and recipient of his charity, as Jiang Cheng's future right hand and most trusted subordinate.

It's a vertical relationship, intimate in its own way but with very strict expectations about what obligations flow in what directions; they are not identical and reciprocal as between friends and equals.

(It's my opinion that Jiang Fengmian's core deal was a deep-seated discontent with the hierarchies he was at the top of, without access to any way to actually deconstruct them or even coherently articulate his opposition. Wei Changze was his dear friend, and no one thinks that's a good enough reason for him to treat Wei Changze's son like his own, because Wei Changze was also his servant, and you can't make that circle square. That's not a way you're allowed to love.)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were like brothers; Wei Wuxian served Jiang Cheng.

The personal relationship was always the most important one. To them, in their hearts. But it was the other one that was real, that had weight in the world.

And it's important to understand that neither can be held up as more factual than the other, even though they conflict. Both relationships existed, and had power.

So then when Jiang Cheng chose to hate Wei Wuxian and articulate his grudge against him, he chose to do it in the language of fealty. Because as far as he knew, his case there was secure, watertight, and it wouldn't expose him emotionally or politically.

And those are the terms in which he's been condemning him all this time: for abandoning the Sect, for ingratitude, for lack of loyalty.

For fuckups, too, and poor judgment, but some of that now turns out to have been justified and some of it was mostly the fault of enemies behaving badly, or even Jiang Cheng himself allowing himself to be pushed into making unworthy choices.

And it was all for his sake.

The thing, the thing in my opinion, about what Wei Wuxian did, about the core transfer and his silent self-destruction around keeping it secret, is that that is a hideous thing to have done between two people who love each other, as an act of love. Beautiful, but awful. As the man who was like a brother to him, Jiang Cheng has a great deal of standing to object to it.

But as an act of vassalage, it's basically perfect.

If Wei Wuxian were only what he formally was to Jiang Cheng, if he is interpreted through a lens of fealty and obligation, he did exactly what he should have done, and went beyond what duty actually required. And went to his death silently, allowing himself to be judged, taking all the burden on himself rather than let harm come to his lord.

Like, obviously Jiang Cheng was harmed by the part where Jin Zixuan got manslaughtered and Jiang Yanli walked into the line of fire in situations where Wei Wuxian was resorting to violence and probably shouldn't have, but those are one step removed from the core issue. In terms of Wei Wuxian's intentional choices around Jiang Cheng himself, at the times he was feeling betrayed and abandoned Wei Wuxian was in fact being impossibly, poetically loyal, an absolute cliche about it.

But only in terms of the hierarchical form of their relationship.

Which means that even though Jiang Cheng has a lot of reasons to still be mad at Wei Wuxian, his actual complaints that he's centered for thirteen years are basically wiped out by the revelation of Wei Wuxian's sacrifice.

Wei Wuxian was in fact doing the tragic hero loyal vassal thing, which very much includes being misunderstood and slandered by the world. (Chenqing as a name choice absolutely references this expectation, and the idea that Jiang Cheng specifically will never understand that Wei Wuxian was trying to help him first and foremost all along; he is not subtle.)

The debts Jiang Cheng has been spitefully calling in and considering defaulted were already long paid.

So if at this point Jiang Cheng keeps pursuing that same line of rhetorical attack, now that he knows, he'll be putting himself morally in the wrong, and he knows it. But if he pivots to something else, he'll both be signalling the shape of that secret to the entire world and looking like a prize idiot.

Which is already how he feels.

To actually address the remaining grievances between them, which are considerable, would require releasing those safe, open grudges to Wei Wuxian's face and then reclaiming him as a loved one. Which is, one could fairly say, more than anyone could expect.

Which is why Wei Wuxian told him he didn't have to.

Which leaves Jiang Cheng at something of an impasse.

[forestdeath1]

Lily and James — the alchemical Queen and King. Lily is the main symbol of the entire saga.

In Harry Potter, there are two levels - the mundane and the symbolic. On the mundane level, Lily is a character with her own strengths and weaknesses. On the symbolic level, Lily is the main symbol of the entire saga. Perhaps that's why there's so little talk about her because symbolically Lily is what everyone strives for, everyone searches for but cannot find. Harry learns more about Lily only before the final battle, and there's a reason for that.

It's no secret that HP books are heavily laden with alchemical and Christian symbolism. I'm not religious, and to me, all these symbols are just cultural codes that have had a significant influence on almost all classic literature and art.

Philipp Otto Runge, Chagall, Goethe — they're all alchemical codes

Firstly, alchemy is not about literally turning lead into gold, it's a path of spiritual development, a path of transformation, a "hero's journey," the journey of the Son returning to the Father. Alchemical transformation is described in the text "The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz." This is the third manifesto of the Rosicrucian Brotherhood.

So, lilies are a very ancient symbol.

According to Jewish legends, the lily grew in Eden just at the time of Eve's temptation by the devil and could be defiled by him, but even amid temptation, it remained as pure as it was, and no dirty hand dared to touch it. In early medieval depictions, Christ was placed against a backdrop of lilies or in the lily flower, seen as a symbol of the Virgin Mary. The orange lily often symbolizes the blood of Christ.

Symbolically, Lily is the love of God, a divine spark, and the blood of Christ itself, which was shed in the name of redemption and salvation to atone for the sins of all humanity. And what is the blood of Christ? In Christian tradition, the blood of Jesus Christ is a symbol of the life-giving and saving spirit of God.

By the way, lilies and roses were often confused in translations, and symbolically they are the same. Many suspected that the Rosicrucians' rose is a stylized version of the Egyptian and Indian flowering lotus, and the lotus has often been considered a water lily (they are different, but symbolically they merged). But calling the main character Rose would be too dull and obvious a reference.

Lily - symbolically, she is both the mother of Christ and the Spirit of God herself, the bearer of divine love, to which all seekers are drawn. This is not the only meaning, but for now, it's enough.

God is love, says John the Apostle. (Remus John Lupin, hehe. It was absolutely unnecessary to know his middle name. It's intentionally inserted because each of the marauders, except Sirius, by name signifies one of the disciples closest to Christ. Sirius is a separate story, he signifies something completely different.)

And who is drawn? Well, primarily we see two - James and Snape.

One of the most important things we learn about James is that he's a deer. The deer is a well-known symbol. In myths and folk beliefs, the deer was associated with the soul's aspiration to heaven and purification.

"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God" Ps. 42: 1

In the Alexandrian "Physiologus," there's an ancient enmity between the stag and the serpent. The serpent hides from the foe in the clefts of the earth, but the stag, with the help of water, draws out the serpent and defeats it. (Water has always been a symbol of the serpent, even in Slytherin's element water, but the stag fights the serpent not with ordinary water but with the water of baptism. The snake has another important meaning for alchemy, but more on that later.)

Snape belongs to the Serpent, to secret knowledge, occult knowledge, "philosophical" reason, dark magic, which has always been contrary to the divine nature in Christian understanding and originated from the devil. James belongs to the Lion and the Deer.

The Lion is a typical alchemical symbol. Also, the Red Lion is Christ. Gryffindor embodies the soul's aspiration towards light and transformation, towards salvation. By the way, St. Godric (the hermit) also had his own pet deer, which he saved.

The deer seeks love, the spirit of God, the divine spark, God Himself, and in this persistent pursuit is shown James's path, as a seeker and as an alchemist. The Potters — if not alchemists themselves, then at least from the lineage of alchemists — the Peverells (The symbol of the Deathly Hallows is an alchemical-masonic symbol). And this means that the Potters are at least seekers; in their souls, there is a desire to find the divine and undergo transformation. The Potters have a strong hatred for the 'serpentine essence' of evil, and this is what needs to be transformed. (By the way, the graveyard is located near St. Jerome's Church. Besides translating the Bible into Latin, Jerome also healed and tamed a lion).

Masonic-alchemical symbol. Symbol of the philosopher's stone. Symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Solve et coagula is a principle of alchemy meaning "dissolve and coagulate".

An alchemist is a gardener, and this is another interesting reference to James and Lily. The way James tries to find an approach to Lily is an alchemical process. The alchemist tends to the Garden. In Vrisvik's Great Work (the Magnum Opus), it appears as the Garden of the Wise. The Gates to the Garden of the Wise for the Chosen become the process of dissolving "our Substance." James manages to approach Lily only when he dissolves his Ego. The Ego is the main enemy on the path to transformation.

The tradition of "hermetic gardening," that is, "cultivating the flowers of Wisdom in one's garden," becomes a leading line in alchemical symbolism. James cultivates wisdom.

While Snape cultivates "dark knowledge," although his soul also strives for light and love. But Snape is still too captured by his Ego, too captivated by base emotions, a thirst for revenge, recognition, or power, a craving for "secret knowledge." He cannot resist it, no matter how much he may strive for Lily, for the divine transformation of his spirit, and James, still dwelling in his Ego, instead of showing mercy to Snape, pushes him further away. The stag fights the serpent, but God is love. Ultimately, Snape temporarily closes off the paths of alchemical transformation for himself.

The Rebis is the end product of the alchemical magnum opus or great work. The lion must dissolve the serpent. Hermetic gardening. The alchemical wedding: the Queen and the King.

But besides all this, the deer is also a symbol of eternal renewal and victory over death ("The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death" 1 Corinthians 15:26 ). A symbol of Christ. His constantly renewing antlers represent eternal life.

In the original Greek of the New Testament, the names Jacob and James are variants of the same root—Yaaqob. James is an active force, a seeker, an investigator, a supplanter. James the Great was of a rather impulsive character, but everyone was also amazed by his courage, he was the only one who acknowledged Christ as the Messiah. And he is the only apostle whose death is described in the New Testament. He dies at the hands of King Herod, a cynical and evil king who was willing to murder babies for his purpose. James also dies at the hands of Voldemort, who is willing to kill a baby for his purpose.

Moreover, it was Saint James who was considered the heavenly patron of alchemists. His tomb was located in Santiago de Compostela, which was the oldest center of adepts. It was there, in 1378, after twenty years of unsuccessful attempts to decipher the Book of Hieroglyphic Figures, that Nicolas Flamel, the most famous alchemist of the Middle Ages, went. By the way, Shell Cottage... the scallop shell is a symbol of the apostle James and the "trademark" of the Way of St. James. Shell Cottage is also alchemical. It is there that Harry sees the symbol of the Deathly Hallows around Lovegood's neck.

James is a seeker. Lily is a symbol of the divine spirit, sparks, transformation. That to which all must ultimately come, that which must change in our world in the image of God. But for now, our world is seized by evil, by the antichrist. To defeat death means to defeat the antichrist in one's soul.

James finds Lily. The Soul finds the Spirit. The Spirit descends into the Soul. The King and Queen marry—and a new life is born, another hero capable of defeating the evil that has engulfed the world, capable of cleansing the world of evil. The connection between Harry and Christ is no secret to anyone.

The power of love conquers death. A rune appears on Harry's forehead—Sowilo rune—the victory rune, the sun rune, the irreversible rune. It symbolically serves as the key to the world of Alfheim—the world of the light elves, that is, the bright ideas, the prototypes of the buddhial plane, the ideality in this world.

The key to God. Harry becomes marked. His scar is a reminder to him that he came into this world not just by chance, but to destroy evil. And coming into this world, materializing, a person invariably receives a particle of the antichrist within himself. That's how this world works. Evil is in the soul of each of us, and through the Great Work, a person must purify himself.

And none can live while the other survives, because they mutually exclude each other by their very nature. Christ and antichrist.

But Harry has a difficult path ahead, the path of the Great Work before he can achieve victory. And that will be the theme of all 7 books, 7 years — exactly 7 days is the duration of The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz for the transformation oh his soul, for victory over death.

[primnroses]

— An insight about summons: Katsuyu, the slug of the Shikkotsu Forest

The information presented in this post has been checked and revised. My aim is not to hate or to discredit any of the characters mentioned. Please read about me for further information.

This post will contain evidence in picture format directly from the manga Naruto (1999 - 2014) created by Masashi Kishimoto and published by Shueisha in 1999. I will also use information from the official databooks of Naruto.

This informative post will analyze the concept of animal summons in the world of Naruto and highlight Katsuyu’s unique abilities throughout the series providing evidence. This meta will also mention other animal summons from the Three-Way Deadlock. I will not use information present in the novels because there is none.

This meta is crossposted in AO3.

I give my permission to use or share this thread with informative purposes as long as you credit me.

I do not support the anime or the work of Studio Pierrot in regards to Naruto because I consider it over exaggerated and beyond biased. Furthermore, these fillers include some actions that these characters are unable to do in the canon according to official sources and they also generate unnecessary debate.

Please, take this into consideration.

Katsuyu, also known as Katsuyu of the Shikkotsu Forest, is a giant slug from the Shikkotsu Forest, a secret and legendary place from the Three Unexplored Sage Regions (仙人三大秘境, Sennin Sandai Hikyō). 

The Three Sage Unexplored Regions according to the Fourth databook.

She is the personal summon of the Fifth Hokage Tsunade, and later, her disciple Sakura Haruno; both women are probably the only people in the world that have been able to summon the slug.

Katsuyu possesses one of the most unique qualities and abilities among animal summons, most of which are still a mystery within the series. 

— WHAT IS A SUMMON AND ANIMAL SUMMONS?

A summon is the ability to invoke objects, weapons, people or animals. This action is carried out through a Summoning Technique (口寄せの術­, Kuchiyose no Jutsu), a special hand seal based jutsu to transport any element to the user’s location for a limited amount of time. 

A Summoning Technique is classified as a space-time ninjutsu and a C-Rank (chūnin level) difficulty jutsu. 

Summoning Technique according to the First databook.

Usually, in order to summon objects or weapons, users apply scrolls or special sealing techniques to contain the desired material. This is the case of Tenten, for example; she uses scrolls to seal multiple kunai, shuriken and any weapon of her choice, granting her the title of “Master of space-time ninjutsu”.

However, for animals and living creatures, this is different.

An animal summon is a technique that adds to the ninja’s ninjutsu repertoire, as a shinobi can take advantage of the animal’s abilities for battle or other purposes.

Before any animal can be summoned, the animal and the user must sign a contract with the species or the specific creature using their blood. In order to summon said animal, the user applies some of their blood, normally by biting their fingers, and channels their chakra to their hands thus invoking a sealing pattern that transports their summon to that same location. The amount of chakra used to summon the creatures determines the size and number of summons. 

The summoning contract of the Toads of Mount Myōboku, Naruto chapter 92.

In the case of the Three Unexplored Sage Regions, the summoning contracts vary. 

Naruto Uzumaki Jiraiya and Minato Namikaze sealed a contract with the toads of Mount Myōboku using their own blood, so when they perform a Summoning Technique, any available toad can offer their services to them. 

Orochimaru has his contract with the snakes of the Ryūchi Cave tattooed on his arms. The methods his disciple Sasuke Uchiha uses to summon snakes from the same location is unknown. 

Tsunade and Sakura Haruno do not have a physical contract, or at least it has never been revealed. However, by reading the manga, the contract with the Shikkotsu Forest might be through their Strength of a Hundred Seal, as it is only possible to summon Katsuyu if the summoner possesses this seal.

It is unknown if there is a blood contract involved, but it is likely that there is since the method of summoning is blood like his companions. 

Orochimaru's contract Naruto chapters 165 and 344.

— KATSUYU AND HER ABILITIES, WHAT MAKES HER SPECIAL?

Katsuyu is a very intriguing and interesting animal and the only one whose past has never been explored.

Summon’s habitats and the Three Unexplored Sage Regions are home to a single species of animals. 

The Ryūchi Cave is home to snakes such as the White Snake, Manda or Aoda, and Mount Myōboku is home to toads like Gamakichi, Gamamaru or Gamabunta.

But, unlike those, Katsuyu is the only organism living in the Shikkotsu Forest. She does not have any other slug companions. 

Following the same scheme as the rest of summons, Katsuyu resembles a real slug. 

She is white or ivory in color, with three turquoise stripes running on her head and sides that start on her head and end in her tail. 

One special feature about her appearance is that her true size has never been seen. Using one summoner, Katsuyu is bigger than the Hokage Residence, and using two summoners, Katsuyu is the size of the roots of the God Tree, which is just one tenth of her real size according to Tsunade. 

Katsuyu's size summoned by one person or two, Naruto chapters 422 and 650.

Her size changes depending on the amount of chakra used to summon her. She can appear as a small slug used to gather intel or help in supplementary tasks, or she can appear as a giant creature using one or two summoners. 

Small Katsuyu summoned to assist Headquarters Naruto chapter 561.

Her age is a true mystery. It is known that toads and snakes live many years and have descendants, such as Gamabunta and Gamakichi’s father and son relationship, or Aoda having great grandchildren; or certain summons retiring when they reach an age while their companions or children replace them. 

The Three Unexplored Sage Regions are legendary places known for many generations. 

Katsuyu, on the other hand, is the only inhabitant of the Shikkotsu Forest. She does not have descendants or companions in her home habitat. Her age or her true origins are a mystery. The first shinobi to discover her existence or previous masters before Sakura Haruno and Tsunade are also unknown.

The first and most important thing to point out is that Katsuyu can only be summoned by users of the Strength of a Hundred Seal. This seal is an extremely difficult jutsu to learn and achieve, so there have only been two summoners in history.

The reason for this is that Katsuyu is such an enormous animal that it requires an immense amount of chakra to summon, and that chakra is stored inside the seal. 

Tsunade and her disciple Sakura Haruno are the only beings able to summon Katsuyu Naruto chapter 650.

The primary skill Katsuyu has is the ability to divide herself in many fragments, hundreds or thousands of them in fact. This technique is called Slug Great Division (蛞蝓大分裂­, Katsuyu Daibunretsu) and it can be used for supplementary purposes, as well for battle. 

In a fight, thanks to her rapid ability to transform her body and divide herself, she can separate herself to nullify attacks by avoiding any strike at incredible speeds. She can do this as many times as she wants without exhaustion. Each of these fragments are also quite fast, able to throw themselves in front of people to shield them from danger.

Manda trapping Katsuyu but she escapes Naruto chapter 170 and Second databook.

She also has the ability to spit a sticky and elastic acid, a jutsu called Tongue Tooth Sticky Acid able to melt stones and vaporize everything it touches (probably senjutsu although never truly revealed). It is also very difficult to dodge due to its unpredictable nature. 

Slug acid, Naruto chapter 170 and Second databook.

Unlike Shadow Clones or other regular clones that are independent from each other and are not interconnected, what Katsuyu does is divide her own body in equal parts, so she is in as many places as she wants at once. She is one entity divided into many other independent and interconnected parts while remaining one single body. Each of her divisions behaves like their own person, so she can complete different tasks while also knowing what her other parts are doing in other places.

Being the summon of medical ninjas, Sakura Haruno and Tsunade take advantage of Katsuyu’s ability to divide herself in order to channel their healing chakra and treat as many people as necessary. 

With a technique called Immense Network Healing (蛞蝓・網療治夥­, Katsuyu: Mōryōjika), Katsuyu collects chakra from the Strength of a Hundred Seal to transform it into healing chakra and treat the injured. 

Using the Great Division and Immense Network Healing in tandem, Katsuyu has the ability to heal and protect everyone she makes contact with. Healing any kind of injury or absorbing people inside her in order to shield them from attacks or sudden explosions is her specialty. Her body is able to resist explosions and even Kurama's corrosive chakra.

Katsuyu divides her body and heals the Alliance Naruto chapter 634 and Fourth databook.

In fact, Katsuyu's power is not only limited to healing wounds, but regeneration too. One of her most impressive feats is the ability to maintain a patient in suspended animation, keeping them alive for as long as she possesses chakra from the seal in order to ensure their survival. 

Katsuyu was able to keep Tsunade alive despite having her body bisected, which on normal circumstances, would mean instant death. However, the slug's regenerative abilities allowed Tsunade to remain alive until she obtained a chakra boost from a third party. This fact is known as Tsunade does not really present the unique Uzumaki Clan ability to keep themselves alive for as long as possible.

Katsuyu kept Tsunade alive despite having her body cut in half, an impressive feat Naruto chapter 635.

This jutsu also acts as a sensing technique due to Katsuyu being connected to the chakra of the injured in order to heal them and her master. Katsuyu is able to relay Kakashi Hatake and Chōza Akimichi’s conditions to Tsunade through their connection, as the slug is connected to the Strength of a Hundred Seal; as well as being able to tell Sakura that Kurama’s chakra was still connected to the Allied Shinobi Forces.

Katsuyu can transmit the chakra levels and the condition of everyone she is in contact with Naruto chapter 427.

This way, Katsuyu was able to protect Konoha’s citizens from Pain’s Shinra Tensei and even survive Kurama’s toxic chakra. 

Able to be in many places at once, her ability to cover infinite distances while her parts remain interconnected allows her to fulfill communication and intel gathering roles. Being in many places and her clones being part of the same body, Katsuyu relays information to one person or multiple people, something she could do by attaching herself to someone’s shoulder and speaking. 

It was Katsuyu the one giving Naruto Uzumaki information about Pain and also told him that Nagato had revived Konoha citizens through the clones that stayed in the village, kept every villager informed about the situation and followed evacuation protocols when Naruto transformed into six tails, and told Tsunade everything that was happening in the battlefield thanks to having another body summoned by Sakura on the other side of the country, and vice versa.

Sakura instructing Katsuyu to evacuate the area through the multiple clones Naruto chapter 438.

This communication ability can cover immense ground at once because the communication is instant. It works similar to regular telepathy, but instead of hearing the other person's voice in their head, people are talking to Katsuyu, and Katsuyu in turn is actually talking to herself through her clones.

Katsuyu's clones on different parts of the Land of Lightning tell Tsunade and Sakura the events that have taken place on both ends Naruto chapters 635 and 647.

An animal summon can only perform at the top of their abilities for a limited amount of time, what is known as the summoning time limit. 

It is unknown exactly how long the invocation lasts, or whether it varies between animals. A summon will help its master before the jutsu runs out or the summon has exhausted its power. 

Gamakichi mentions the summoning time limit Naruto chapter 642.

However, for Katsuyu, this is not the case. 

The slug can be summoned for unlimited periods of time and several times a day, as seen when Katsuyu spent the Fourth Shinobi World War by Tsunade’s side in the Headquarters, primarily helping Shikaku Nara and participating in the planification of the troops, and later with the Five Kage against Madara and Sakura with the Allied Shinobi Forces.

This could be explained by the symbiotic bond Sakura and Tsunade share with Katsuyu through the Strength of a Hundred Seal. 

The seal stores unimaginable quantities of chakra inside, which are used by Katsuyu to perform healing on people. As long as Katsuyu has been transmitted every drop of chakra in the seal, she will continue her work, as seen when Tsunade gave the slug all the chakra inside her Byakugou to the point it disappeared but Katsuyu physically remained in Konoha until her services were no longer needed.

Tsunade's Byakugou disappears but Katsuyu still serves her purpose as a summon to evacuate Naruto chapter 430.

Still, like any other summon, Katsuyu can be exhausted from battle and disappear. When the Ten Tails absorbed the chakra of every shinobi in the battlefield as the Kurama Chakra Cloak, every Katsuyu fragment attached to them was also absorbed and vanished, but the main body remained intact protecting Sakura Haruno form the tree. 

Katsuyu's clones disappeared absorbed by the God Tree Naruto chapter 647.

— THE PERFECT SUMMON?

Katsuyu is very different from the rest of summons. 

From the immeasurable amount of chakra it requires to summon her, to her multiple multitasking and supplementary abilities and her mysterious origins, Katsuyu might be the perfect summon and the strongest animal summon of Naruto and Boruto.

Her ability to divide herself in thousands of fragments, a body and chemical composition resistant to blasts that can reshape her own state, no summoning time limit, outstanding healing and regeneration factor, the unlimited wide range communication she offers, acidic attacks, useful to gather intel by herself and turn small enough to offer battle assistant, and a sensory connection with her master and other people she is attached to. 

Katsuyu is the ultimate creature.

Without a doubt, the most essential ally in desperate times. A valuable help in case a village is being attacked by powerful enemies that threaten to destroy everything around them, Katsuyu is the only weapon able to protect thousands of people from any attack and offer assistance while in contact with her master and everyone she is with.

Thanks to her, every Konoha villager that had not been killed by the Pain Paths previously could survive the Shinra Tensei explosion that destroyed Konoha, which later allowed the surviving shinobi to handle evacuations, as well as allow Naruto to obtain intel about Pain and Nagato or be told that Konoha's villagers were revived.

Katsuyu is an unrivalled intel summon Naruto chapters 431 and 449.

She was also the main link of communication between the Headquarters and the two different fronts of the war, Five Kage and Allied Shinobi Forces, and the reason why the Five Kage survived the fight despite their fatal injuries.

Lastly, it was also Katsuyu who protected the Allied Shinobi Forces against the roots of the God Tree, saving a large portion of the shinobi from death, and later offered a healing area for their future fight against the Kanzeon Lotus King.

— CURRENT WHEREABOUTS.

Ever since the death of Madara Uchiha, Katsuyu has not been summoned again.

With no threats to the destruction of Konoha or the need to establish connections between battlefields, Katsuyu was not summoned in the Blank Period. 

In Boruto, Katsuyu’s debut is strictly linked to Sakura’s appearances: if Sakura does not appear, neither does the slug. This is something that is hard to fathom considering that the village has been exposed to explosions, invasions and multiple deceased shinobi ever since the start that could be prevented by Katsuyu like previous times.

Katsuyu appeared in the anime arc “Kawaki and Himawari in the Academy” where the students had to put on a play about the Sannin and Kawaki dressed as Katsuyu.

Kawaki representing Katsuyu in Boruto episode 267.

-

[quotablefanfiction]

An agonized whimper escaped him as he realized just what kind of dreams he’d been subjecting his Shizun’s dreaming self to. Every base and terrible thing that crossed his mind found its way into those dreams and Shizun had seen! Shizun knew!

there’s a downside to having dream powers (chp. 6)

What Dreams May Come by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (AO3) The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System – Explicit – Luò Bīnghé/Shěn Yuán #Alternate Universe #Canon Divergence #Dream Encounters #Unreliable Narrator #Written from the perspective of a demisexual who doesn’t know what demisexuality is #it’s Shen Yuan #Shen Yuan is the demisexual who doesn’t know what demisexuality is #Hold him #Topzun #Bingbottom #very soft in parts #but soft for bingqiu #so still pretty horny #y’all it’s so dirty #Shizun likes it too much when Binghe cries #BDSM elements #Blowjobs #Sex #Rimming #canon body horror mentions

In the time between sacrificing himself to stop his estranged disciple’s qi deviation and waking up in his back-up body, Shen Yuan -formerly Shen Qingqiu- experiences a long series of dreams that make him confront quite a few things about himself that he’d been stubbornly ignoring.

Good thing they’re just dreams, right? Otherwise he’d never be able to look Luo Binghe in the eye ever again.

-

Binghe froze under his hands as Shen Yuan brought him into the most gentle hug he could manage. “Still crying?” He asked, only just keeping the unsteadiness out of his voice. He was naked and this was a sex dream and Binghe was crying all over his dick.

He didn’t need his kinks spelled out for him quite this explicitly, thanks.

-

Or: two horny idiots finally get out of their own way.

[piosplayhouse]

Binghe's cutie mark in MLP aus is an interesting thing to contemplate because it feels obvious to just give him the demon mark, but there's quite a bit of debate regarding what exactly the cutie mark is supposed to represent and why/when ponies earn it. I'm personally inclined to the interpretation that cutie marks are earned not when a pony discovers their talent, but instead when they discover who they are (the example that rlly hits this for me is how Rarity, despite having diamonds as her mark, earns her mark not when she finds gemstones, but instead after she uses those stones to design costumes for her school play, an act which shows her creativity and generosity). So there's a few routes you can take with Binghe depending on what you want to emphasize:

A. He earns his mark with his adoptive mother and enters qjp with it. This could work as he is his truest self with her-- filial and innocent, but I personally feel him entering qjp as a blank flank would make more sense as it further emphasizes his vulnerability to bullying and ostracization from the other disciples

B. He earns his mark on Qing Jing Peak. I assume most disciples earn their marks at this point, and binghe could very well follow that pattern. I think this is much more likely for bingmei for obvious reasons, but if bingmei develops a cutie mark before bingge was supposed to that might tip sqq off that he really fucked the story up earlier than someone might want for world building reasons.

C. He earns his mark at the Abyss OR his mark changes at the Abyss. This is the most angsty for obvious reasons, on both a meta narrative level and on a character development level as this would suggest to Binghe that his "true self" is being a dangerous heavenly demon and that he can never return to being an innocent disciple. Of course, we could also get into the weeds here with if the heavenly demon equivalent to ponies are creatures with no cutie marks and therefore him being a hybrid means that he has unusual cutie mark expression under the influence of heavy demonic energy. If bingge made it this long as a blank flank I expect him earning the demon mark would be the natural outcome at this point in the story, or even within the abyss. Alternatively:

D. Bingge was intended to be markless for the entirety of PIDW. This slots in as an equivalent to the "bingge was never supposed to find true love" element of his character, going further to hit on the implication that the original Binghe is a deeply hollow person who doesn't truly know who he is despite appearances (I imagine he would keep his flank covered, or even use magic to disguise it as a demon mark cutie mark). Obviously this would not happen to bingmei which brings us to the alternative for him:

D.2. Bingmei earns his cutie mark sometime during the falling arc/postcanon after getting together with sqq. This makes sense in that this is really when Bingmei is fully free to be his true self with no inhibitions, but it could be argued that he had his life figured out as a teenager (see B) and got lost along the way, which wouldn't have much of an impact on his mark as we see various canon villains go through redemption arcs where their marks don't change. Of course, though, this would open the way for his mark to be something much more romantic, like a lotus blooming on a fan or something. So this could be a cute route that would provide a nice, if a bit less dramatic, end to his journey.

[guqin-and-flute]

Holding Me Holding You–Ch. 7 [3zun Raise Jingyi Prequel]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

[Ao3 Link]

[Holy shit, how has it been 2 years since I last updated this fic?? ANYWAY HELLO HI I MISSED YOU. We're keeping the baby, guys. CW: Disjointed, slightly nonlinear narration; negative self talk; more talk of battle aftermath, bodies (gross but no more graphic than prev chapters), and death; focus on lots of trauma to do with death and grief; general Twin Jade parental trauma; vaguest mention of child death, in that he repeatedly tells himself there isn't one and remembers part of his nightmare about Wangji/A-Fu dying]

Who are you?

‘Wen Baiqi.’

What must be done for you to rest?

‘Say goodbye. Tell her goodbye.’

It’s raining in Qishan. It’s nothing like the rain in Gusu.

Who are you?

‘Hei Xuecen.’

What must be done for you to rest?

‘All my fault all my fault ALL MY FAULT--’

This rain isn’t crisp, but disconcertingly warm. It doesn't bring life. It soaks into the ground, milling the dirt back into the blood and gore bloated mud of that night, sucking at their feet. Reeking of putrefaction. It coats Xichen’s tongue and throat.

Who are you?

Each time, there is a chance he will receive a reply from the Yiling Patriarch himself. 

‘Ye Qian.’

He never does.

What must be done for you to rest?

‘Never apologized--’

What would he do if he did?

Who are you?

What would Zewu-jun do? Clan Leader Lan?

What must be done?

Would he soothe his spirit?

Who are you?

Ghostly fingers pluck at his sleeves constantly. 

Who are you?

‘Nie Zixing. Never knew him, tell them--’

When he had first arrived, the bodies of Wei Wuxian’s Wen contingent still hung from the gate to the battleground. Or what remained of them. After scavengers, time, and the elements had had their turn. Swaying in the warm, wet breeze along with carrion birds’ cries and the distant tunes of the guqin language. Grisly pendulums. Dripping.

There is no small boy among them. He had hoped against hope, but now he knew for sure. This secret is tucked deep, deep down beneath his heart.

Who are you?

The corpses on the ground are Wen. They are Lan. They are strangers. They are Da-ge, lying bloody on the floor of the Scorching Sun Palace. They are A-Zhan.

"We should burn them like they did to our people. Scatter their ashes, so they will never rest." A venomous whisper from his own disciples, a young man, face twisted in rage.

(“They’re killing everyone,” he had choked his sobs into A-Yao’s arms. “My people--my family are all dead and I did nothing.”)

A-Yuan had been so, so pale against the sheets. So tiny compared to the infirmary bed.

“These people?" Xichen’s voice is quiet. "These cultivators that studied healing? Miles and miles from Qishan?”

Silence.

“Did they destroy our home? Did we fight them in Sunshot?”

Too little, far too late.

There is no small boy among them. There isn’t.

A-Zhan, gray and slack, eyes glassy, head lolling--

He pushes the dream-memory away.

Who are you?

‘Jin Mingni. 

My father--’

"We will bury them and hold the proper rites, as we have the rest of the fallen. And I will ask you to swear yourselves to secrecy regarding their exact resting place. In case anyone later shares your thinking.”

‘Zhou Sanniang. Never wanted to come. Save me.’

“Help me bring them down.”

There may be no small boy among the Wen, but he sees corpses all day, every day. They're in his dreams. He cannot stop seeing them. And he cannot stop seeing a boy (Afuyuanzhan) among them, from the corner of his eye.

He can never quite catch the face before he realizes there is no one actually there.

A skeletal hand is unearthed when they lift a body--a remnant of the Sunshot Campaign, years before. There were plenty of partial skeletons from that time that the Yiling Patriarch had raised to fight them. It seems some didn't have the strength to fight their way out from the mud. The death here has layers. A slow growing mountain of violence and dead and blood instead of stone. The building of the Burial Mounds’ successor.

Do the Burial Mounds have as many crows? Is it a feasting ground, as this has become?

They carry the quiescent dead, cover them with cloth, lay them in rows. Those whose spirits have passed on easily. They lie with their Sect members--when they are able to discern who they are. Still, fields of undyed cloth mounds, waiting to be retrieved by their loved ones, if they still live. Somewhere out there, there must be people still alive, families whole and happy, living in the sunshine. Somewhere.

Who are you?

His fingertips bleed from days playing Linhai and Liebing.

What must be done for you to rest?

Even those here that are living shamble like the dead--the rogue cultivators, his Lan disciples, the handful cultivators from other Sects, all here for the same goal, all hollow eyed and pale. He is supposed to be here for morale. 

They work deep into the night, far from familiar, ingrained rules about schedule and tidiness, here. Adrift.

What must be done--?

The fierce corpse is not a powerful one, merely tenacious. Shuoyue snakes out. It crumples immediately with a muted splurch into the muck, halved.

‘Tell her I loved--’

The top half of the corpse writhes, still scrabbling for him. The sound it makes from its ruined face is horrid. It's a wonder it can sense his yang qi at all; no eyes, no nose. Its robes are a splotchy black and rusty brown-red, but the Lan ribbon around its forehead manages to show a ragged white through it, here and there.

The talisman sears, blinding. It is enough. The body slumps for the last time. He can settle into that mud, summon Linhai from his qiankun bag for the Songs of Rest.

Who are you?

‘Lan Ruicai.

Show them all--’

The blood of the walking dead is no longer life-hot, but the same, unnerving lukewarm as the rain. He cannot feel it. He can’t tell where it’s stained him until he reaches his tent each night. 

He is efficient. He is in control.

The rain here doesn't cleanse anything. It hasn’t stopped for days.

Everything is the same color; the sludge, the thick haze of lingering resentful energy, palms, boots, the hems and knees of robes. That old clotted wound color. Dirt repelling talismans can only do so much before they are overpowered by the sheer weight of yin energy permeating everything. Stained.

There's no use cleaning. He tries anyway.

‘I was so scared, so scared--’

Who are you?

Sometimes, the spirits do not answer. Sometimes, they speak first, before he can even start the questions, raking the strings repeatedly in their anguish. Sometimes, they try to tear the guqin from him, try to rend his clothes, squeeze his throat. Sometimes, banishment is the only way. 

The sudden shrieks and roars at night startle everyone from sleep. If Wangji was well, he would be here. He is known for going where the chaos is.

Is that what had led him to this? To Wei Wuxian? An affinity for soothing chaos? For chaos itself?

Who are you?

‘Don’t know. Want to go home--’

"I can't anymore, zongzhu, I-I--"

"It's alright. Return to the Cloud Recesses. You’ve done enough."

Sometimes, he wakes in the night to find that he is in the middle of dressing, having no memory of doing so, a clump of cleansing talismans clutched in his numb hands. He has cut down so many fierce corpses, he’s lost count.

Who are you?

Food is tasteless glue in his mouth.

Who are you?

Every night, he is sure to take the medicine that gives him no dreams.

‘Oh gods oh gods ohgodsohgods--’

Every night, he prays that he has not left Uncle overwhelmed, that his people are being cleansed and healed back home, that Wangji has stopped bleeding, that A-Yuan is healing, that A-Fu is….

Who are you?

(What right do you have?)

What must be done?

He has been here for days that run into one, long, dark, meaningless drain. 

‘Son. Baby. Where is he?'

Who are you?

‘Pan Liu.’

His raw fingers pause on Linhai’s strings, still humming. Rain patters quietly on the hat that shields his face from it.

He knows that name. How does he know that name.

There have been plenty of others he had recognized among the dead, from different Sects and his own, from childhood, from Cultivation Conferences, from class. But each time, he must pull himself back to that life to remember, away from the rain and the red and the dead.

He can’t place it.

What must be done for you to rest?

‘My baby. Safe.’

The spirit is a thin wisp of light, playing about the strings, shining on the dark wood. Focused. Waiting.  

Who is your son?

‘Lan Fu.’

His mouth is dry.

("A-niang?" A hopeful little voice. The memory of a crumpled form in the blood-churned muck, a shoe print between shoulder blades….) 

It is cruel, endlessly cruel that he is the one alive. That he is the one sitting in the mud across from this poor young mother’s spirit. That he is the one with blood enough in his hands to leave rain blotted stains on the strings as he tells A-Fu’s mother; He is safe.

(Shrieks of raw sound as they carry him away. Echoing off the trees. Reaching back for him.)

A hesitation. Then, ‘Who are you?’

Lan Xichen. Zewu-jun.

‘Zongzhu.’

He will be safe. I swear. 

‘...Safe.’

Rest, now.

‘...Rest….’ The notes are quiet, exhausted. Longing.

Then, silence. That pale light is gone. 

She is gone.

He sits, still and silent as the soft caverns in the clotted mud continue to patter around him. His face is wet--mist and rain and blood. He almost wishes it was tears. 

He aches in a new, terrible way, now.

Oh, little one. You were so loved.

He has been witness to both sides, now, of this small, destroyed family reaching for each other through the dark. And how useless he has been in the task of bringing either of them lasting peace. 

To bring anyone lasting peace. 

(Useless.)

And do you serve anything so fiercely that it would be your last thought, taken across into death? 

It is irrelevant. The soul quieting ceremony had been performed on them as children, with all the other inner disciples. He will not linger as a ghost, even if he were to be struck down by a fierce corpse this instant.

He finds himself trying to remember if his mother had ever mentioned having had such a ritual performed on her….

Selfish. You would have your own mother suffer and linger as an unquiet ghost for some sort of twisted confirmation that you were loved? 

Xichen remembers childhood before the death of his parents. The infinity of all of it. It probably never crossed A-Fu’s mind to beg her to stay with him. (“No, no go! P’ease!”) She had always returned before. 

The memory of A-Fu clinging to his hands so tightly he had drawn blood with his nails is inescapable. 

During that final farewell at the Jingshi, A-Huan too had had no idea it would be the last time he would ever see his mother’s face. He didn’t know what creeping death looked like, then. She was simply her, smiling, twinkling at them.  He had kissed her cheek and taken Wangji’s hand and waved to her through her ornately carved window screen as Uncle led them away. Wangji had always been the one to pull back, to fuss over leaving. Uncle had always made sure that Xichen set a good example for him.

The snowy day she had left this world, cold and dry, so far from the warm wet muck he was in now, something in him hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t believed that someone could just…no longer exist, just as suddenly as a storm might blow over the mountain summit with no warning. 

He saw her so sparingly, it seemed impossible that she wasn't just simply waiting in her front room for them to visit with a smile and open arms.

How? he had asked. When? Why?

Uncle had said that it was not for children to know. This pulled it even farther into the unreal, stretching his comprehension. It felt like a dream, a lie. A story. But if he could just see her…if he could just prove that this was some sort of…misunderstanding--

(Xichen had never asked again after that first refusal sat in his gut like a chilly stone. He suspected that Wangji had not either. Even now, decades later, he still did not know how his mother had actually died. 

He suspected enough, however. 

He knew it was sudden. He knew it was unexpected. He knew no one spoke of it. He knew it had broken his father beyond any hope of repair. Uncle had not volunteered the information, even now, when they were both grown. And Xichen will not allow useless rumination. Rule 60.)

 He remembered he hadn’t been able to stop crying. A-Huan had always hated crying--he always tried to hide away and not bother anyone with it, but this had been constant. 

Uncle had squeezed his shoulder and spoken softly, and reminded him after hours of stopping and starting that he must not grieve in excess, that he would make himself sick, that he was agitating Wangji, that he needed to calm himself, death was a natural passing, like the moon or a river, one must not let their emotions control them.

But still, that something in him that just knew it wasn't true waited until it was dark, until curfew set in and the snow lit the night full-moon-bright, reflecting the stars and lanterns. He had pulled on his boots and slipped from his window, cautiously darting across the paths of the Cloud Recesses in just his pajamas and his blanket wrapped tight around his shoulders, shivering from more than the cold. 

This had to be a trick that he didn’t understand; a joke or a punishment for something he had done wrong. When he figured out what to apologize for, he would be able to see her again. 

The fear of being caught breaking the rules was washed away when he crossed beneath the familiar bower wound with skeletal winter vines. His mother’s house stood dark. All around it, snow was churned and broken, as if many people had been there. In all his memory, no one else had ever visited the Jingshi. The door was unlocked. 

It opened onto emptiness and moonlight. 

Everything was gone.  Her plants. The blue cushioned couch. Her desk and papers. Her dragon incense burner. Her tall candlesticks. Her big, thick, round rug they laid on and played games. The pictures he had painted for her.

He had drifted, stunned, through the shell of his mother’s home. The only proof that she had ever even been there were the scratches on the floor from where furniture had been dragged. That, and the scent of her that still lingered underneath the smell of whatever they had scrubbed the floor and walls with. They had erased her completely. Like she was never there in the first place.

Then it had settled on him like a cloak of lead, dropping him to his knees; the understanding, the true deepness of what this meant.

She was really gone. Forever. 

The ‘always’ was gone. The ‘next time’ and promises. That warm, constant presence on the rim of the Cloud Recesses, the visit that marked his days as cyclically and surely as the sun had simply...vanished. In just one moment, the world was made completely lightless. Incomprehensible. It had a hole ripped in its center, cold and inescapable.

She would never brush back his hair and kiss his forehead. She would never pout when she lost a game. She would never squinch up her nose and do an accidental snort-laugh.

If he had only known that it could happen so fast…if he had only known that people could leave so quickly and completely, he would have taken something. A set of her dark, weighty chopsticks, one of her bracelets, a letter; anything. But there was nothing.

Somehow, he had found himself in front of the Hanshi, his feet numb, his face and hands frozen. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t remember what his 6 year old self had planned. He wasn’t sure that there had been a plan. Maybe he had just wanted a parent. Maybe he had been seeking out the one adult that might have cared as much as he did that his mother was gone. Uncle didn’t understand--A-Huan and A-Zhan had always known that he didn’t like her. He was always polite, because that was important, it was in the rules--but he was always stiff and short. He frowned the whole time--every time--picking them up. He hated talking about her.

But the father he had hardly met, that distant, hidden figure--he had married her. He had loved her.

He would care.

The Hanshi, too, had been dark--and he panicked. Had his father left--or died like his mother and no one had told him? He had yanked the door handle--and to his shock, it slid open. He had been expecting a lock like the one that he saw being done up behind them when he and A-Zhan left the Jingshi. (A choice, not a prison, he had realized as he got older. Not in the same way, at least. Other things kept Qingheng-jun bound.) 

It was dark inside, curtains drawn, vague shapes of things illuminated by the light creeping in behind him. He stood in that doorway, frozen in body and mind, unable to trespass that much farther. It smelled unfamiliar and sharp. He had never been in his father’s home before. 

It was so dark.

He had called into that darkness, choked and quiet; “Fuqin?“ 

Silence. 

“...Diedie?”

(“They made choices. These are consequences,” is all Uncle had told him when, younger, he had asked why both of his parents were locked away from him and refused to say more.

Afterward, A-Huan had always been afraid that he might accidentally make those same choices, that he would be kept from his brother and his Uncle and nannies for it. Because no one would tell him what those choices were, he studied the rules obsessively so he could be sure to follow every single one. So he would never be locked up.)

There was a rustle, a clink. A shape had formed in the shadows, someone sitting up from being slumped on a table. A pale hand swayed into the pool of silver moonlight, pointing. The voice that followed had been rough, slurred like a mouthful of rocks. “You are not supposed to be here. Go.”

A-Huan had fled as fast as his numbed legs could go. Stumbling, breaking through the crust of snow, falling and rising and falling, back up through his window to collapse on the floor. His breath had burned in his lungs as he coughed and sobbed as quietly as he could, hot tears stinging his frozen cheeks.

Not quietly enough, though. A-Zhan had eventually crept into his room and curled up next to him on the floor without a word, arm wrapped around his middle.  When A-Huan had rolled over and held him more tightly than he had ever held anything before, he realized that A-Zhan was the only part of his mother he had left in the entire world.

And now, what did A-Fu have left of his parents, of a life he knew? 

A story, at the very least. A reason. A goodbye. The truth. It was all he could offer. It was all he had left for the boy. These other spirits and their wishes can only be passed along to others, if they were attainable at all. But this, this he can do; this, he can set right. To make absolutely sure that her will is found and executed, that the family who cares for her son is told the story of her last farewell, so he will know, too, in time. 

So a son will never have to wonder.

This much peace, he can provide. With those who can bear this place no more and an endless caravan of cloth draped bodies, he returns to Gusu, leaving behind Qishan’s bleeding sky.

-

The quiet of home stuns him. There are no screams, no groans echoing down the mountain. The trees don’t muffle sounds of sword or talisman sizzle, merely birdsong and wind. There is beauty here, something he hadn't known his soul craved like water in a drought until he saw it in rich blues, blooming whites, lush greens. The coolness, the clarity of the water and the touch of leaves. Nothing here is red-brown. All that bleeds is hidden away behind pale bandages and pale walls.

It's almost too much. 

(His hands feel filthy, no matter how many times he scrubs them. Discontent among such blessings is an insult to those that can no longer come home to them. He will kowtow in the shrine for this disrespect later.)

Time has meaning once more. In theory. There are places to eat, to rest. 

(It hardly makes sense to him anymore, despite the schedule being as familiar as the stone beneath his feet.)

Home, in the Hanshi, surrounded by familiarity and comfort, sitting at his desk as the incense burner next to him delicately permeates the air with sandalwood and the trees outside rustle and no one screams at all, he holds Pan Liu’s will in his hands. It is a brief, frail little thing in the face of such sorrow. It must have been hastily written after her husband’s death, as she willed A-Fu and her remaining possessions to the care of her younger sister. Who upon brief investigation of his ever growing list of the dead was found to have been killed in the battle against Wei Wuxian as well. The sister, yet unmarried, had no will of her own--probably too young to have begun to even consider death as a real possibility before life and Wen and war swept their way in. Their house had been one destroyed in the Wen’s sacking of the Cloud Recesses, their personal possessions few. No one else remained of their immediate family.

Pan Liu clearly had not expected to die before she could update it.

In his heart, somewhere, he had known that something like this was the case; that A-Fu was truly alone. Xichen had carried him for days and no one had come looking? No one had wondered where he was, wanted him home safe, with them? 

He had not wanted to look directly at this, at the time, knowing he would have to give A-Fu back to that loneliness, that uncertainty. Even though A-Fu is not the only child in the Cultivation World or even the Cloud Recesses with the same fate, it had been…different. He couldn’t have said why--still can’t--but it had felt like a betrayal to the boy. A loss, savage and personal. Even when he knew any other choice came nowhere close to making sense.

Still. Even he and Wangji had had their uncle and the small, rotating cadre of minders that were familiar to them. He saw his mother once a month and knew his father was there, somewhere, out of sight. There had been a thread connecting them to their parents and the life they could have had with them. 

A-Fu has none of this. 

And yet he still cries, still calls out, because he trusts that someone he knows will come. Of everything in these last few days, this is what is almost too much to bear, a knife stuck in his ribs that gouges with every breath. He does not feel sadness or regret; only pain. Everything else has been out of reach for a while now.

The rattle of his door opening onto seeping sunshine and fresh, bloodless air has him looking up. His Uncle steps over the threshold. “You’re back,” he says warmly by way of greeting as Xichen rises.

“Shufu.” He bows, then offers him his customary seat, more out of habit than necessity; this teatime visit was a familiar ritual in a life not too long ago.

 They take their places at opposite ends of the low, square table at the center of his sitting room as Xichen opens his tea cupboard. “It’s been a while since we have been able to simply sit and have tea together,” Uncle observes, easily.

Yes; nothing has been right or normal for a long time. “Mn.”

When he continues to set out the cool porcelain cups and the dark pot with no further elaboration, Uncle watches him work, expression a thoughtful blur in his periphery.  “...The library is not where I expected your first stop to be.” 

He sounds only mildly curious, but Xichen knows that it is unspoken approval that he had not gone straight to Wangji.

He hesitates, then continues his methodical ritual of movement. “There was a time-sensitive matter that I wanted to attend to.”

In truth, after the bath he had taken upon his return--where he had had to call for 3 rounds of water (Do not be wasteful, Rule 23; broken) before it was no longer clouded dark with dried blood and mud and rot--Xichen had stood on the Hanshi’s front porch, staring down at the blindingly white path before him, forking off through the trees. 

His heart had tugged him one way and his cowardice in the face of pain another. The thought of seeing more bodies just lying there, of seeing those dear to him--Wangji, A-Yuan, those in the infirmary--suffering while he could do nothing to prevent it was….

It was not something he was capable of, at present. Just for now. Just for these first few hours. It was selfish, but true. And so, he had gone to their records room in the library to request Pan Liu’s will. Pain had won. His heart was weak, choosing the easier duty.

Unable to stop himself, though he knows it will cloud his uncle’s relaxed and pleasant demeanor, he asks; “Is Wangji…?” He trails off. 

Awake? Improving? Well? …Alive? A sharp internal rebuke at this last. Do not exaggerate. Rule 671. Uncle would not be so calm if things were dire. He is angry, not cruel. He would have been told.

(A heavy hand on his shoulder. An empty house. Churned snow.)

He would have been told.

Uncle’s face does, indeed, darken. “Hmph.” A mirthless, scornful snort. “He wakes on occasion. He refuses to speak, refuses to acknowledge anyone. He is simply lengthening his own punishment.” Uncle eyes him, adding, “You should be able to talk some sense into him. He always has listened to you best.” 

‘And so how could you have let this happen? How could you have let him do this?’ 

(When will you stop being angry and start being afraid for him?)

Xichen lowers his gaze to the dark wood of the table and scoops the tiny, furled up leaves of the tea into the pot, the smokey green scent tickling his nose

It’s true. Of everyone--their caregivers, teachers, and relatives, Wangji has always responded to him best. He would not always necessarily disobey outright, but he might frown or hesitate before complying or pretend not to hear--especially if he were called to come away from Xichen’s side. “Your class is this way, xiao-gongzi,” the minder would call and A-Zhan would continue his resolute little stride beside him, hand squeezing tighter around Xichen’s fingers the only indication he had heard anything at all. 

It was when Xichen squeezed back and knelt down to straighten his robes, smiling up into his serious face, saying, “It’s alright, ZhanZhan; I’ll ask if I can come out early to pick you up, mn? Go on, be good,” that he would allow himself to be led away with no further fuss.

 He had been the only one who could finally convince him that kneeling in the rocky ground every month when they should have been visiting their mother would not force anyone to bring her out to them. The first time, he had asked him to come in, come home. But knew his brother. He was not surprised when he silently refused to even show he had heard him. 

And so he hadn’t asked again, never having the stomach to fully destroy the hope that he would be let back into the Jingshi if he just waited long enough. 

But Uncle had become frustrated, their teachers and nannies muttering. They were impatient with his refusal, seeing it as disobedience. They didn’t see his mourning, only his stubbornness. So A-Huan had had to protect his brother's soft heart from those that didn’t understand. “We can kneel together, back at home,” he had whispered, his fingers screwed tight around A-Zhan’s cold hand. “I’ll wait with you as long as you want. But niang would--” his throat had caught and he had wrestled his tears from his voice. “Niang would hate if you got sick, sitting out here in the cold all day.”

A-Zhan’s dark eyes had bored into him, thinking. Reason and punishment and demands from adults had not moved his stubborn frame one inch, month after month after winter-to-spring month. 

Then, finally, this second and last time, A-Zhan had listened to him. Whatever it was about him was what finally got his little brother slowly, stiffly to his feet to hobble back home with him. Xichen remembered that he hadn’t felt relieved at all. He just felt like he had taken their mother from him all over again.

“I will speak with him, shufu.”

 Uncle nods, then heaves a sigh. “What news is there from Qishan?”

Mechanically, as if operating his own mouth from across the room, Xichen relays numbers, movements, and times. He almost reflexively scolds himself for lying; the mundane description of dry duty and the lived horror so far from one another that they were entirely irreconcilable. Just words passed across a shining table over fragrant tea, cool wind brushing the sun-pale windows serenely with tree shadows

When he reaches the final fate of Wei Wuxian’s executed Wen contingent, Uncle approves. “It was wise to swear the disciples to secrecy. This has all gotten so inhumane. Denying them burial was an unnecessary cruelty,” he says heavily as he shakes his head, eyes closed in weariness. “I pray that we are done with this madness at last, with that Wei Ying finally taken care of. What a mess.”

There is silence. Xichen cannot fathom what his response to that could possibly be. Should possibly be--as Wangji’s brother, as the Lan Clan Leader, as his uncle's nephew. As Wei Wuxian’s…what. Friend? 

…As one who cannot delight in his death, in any case. 

Despite the period of kneeling before the Jingshi, Wangji had never been a troublemaker growing up. He was always the Jade who grasped the Lan way of life more easily, molded himself to the rigidity of the rules with that same stubborn tenacity. 

It was Xichen who failed in that, who smudged the black and white lines to gray, bent them so they were slightly more comfortable around him; bearable--once he discovered that they could be. 

He was the one who accidentally got drunk trying to see if he could filter out alcohol with his core, he was the one to kiss Mingjue first in the Jin Gardens during a Cultivation Conference. The one to urge his brother to befriend a talented teenager who was gleefully and repeatedly stomping all over their Clan’s ancestral rules.

He was the one who had told Wangji to step outside his rigid view of the world, to see people for their hearts. And then Wangji's own heart had been torn out. As his uncle said; Wangji had always listened to him best. This much would never have happened without Xichen's deliberate meddling. 

All those years ago, when Wei Wuxian had first cannonballed into their lives, Xichen had just wanted Wangji to be happy. To have friends. Alone didn’t always mean lonely, but he knew he saw it in his brother. Saw Wangji with peers who were merely in awe of his talent, who respected but did not like him, love him, know him, want to spend time with him. He knew the difference, no matter what Wangji showed the rest of the world. The older he got, the less he smiled--the soft, secret ones that so many others failed to see. Xichen had missed them, dearly. And so he had pushed.

Everything that has happened sense feels as if it’s unshakably all his fault.

As the tea is poured, they speak; it passes over him like clouds. Which elder is still in which stage of recovery. The smith they called to repair swords and assess the spirits of those now without a handler. 

Something touches him.

 “Xichen!” 

His hand burns. He is on his feet. Shuoyue’s naked blade buzzes, ready in his hand. He does not remember moving. Every fiber of cloth on his skin feels alive and writhing. Blood courses. Scalding tea is cooling, dripping from his knuckles.

The touch had been spiritual, not physical. From the corner of his awareness and the Cloud Recesses boundary wards at once; a warning, tasting of wild metal (close to blood, so close). 

The Western Wards, crossed.

“Do not unsheathe your blade in a residence!” Uncle’s face crinkles from shock to a wince. “And contain yourself, this is not a battlefield.”

It takes a moment. His killing intent is up, streaming from his core like a river of blades, of blood. 

Sucking in a breath, he takes the torrent in internal hand and yanks it back, firmly, like the reins of a horse, winding the silk rope of it over again and again in the palm of his concentration, until the thrum of it eases. The pressure that had filled the room with the promise of death ebbs. Shuoyue hums warm, expectant. When he does finally sheathe her, the connection between them flickers, confused. 

Above his hammering heart, he hears Uncle continue, frowning, “I felt it, too. Was it someone passing outward or inward?”

His tongue, his mind is mud-stuck slow.

Focus. There is no battle here. You are home. Get a hold of yourself.

“...Outward. Less resistance. Nothing powerful.”

Oddly, at this Uncle’s frown deepens, shadows of concern replacing mere puzzlement. “Hmm. Those were in the West…far….” After a moment of thought, he rises.

As he steps out the door and calls for a servant from the Hanshi’s porch, Xichen continues to try to pull in slow, deep breaths.

Have you regressed to being such a novice that you cannot control your own qi? Your own battle intent? Are you a child? Though his uncle's voice is low and his attention is divided, the words ‘searchers’ makes it through the pounding blood in his ears. Strange.

When Uncle slides the door back open, Xichen asks, “Searchers?”

His silhouetted form hesitates, framed by the sunlight that pours in behind him and dazzles Xichen’s eyes, leaving his expression briefly in shadow. “...Yesterday evening, a child managed to wander into the woods alone.” A spike of cold worry threatens to heighten the wild surge of energy within him once more as his uncle continues, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “We have had several teams scouring the backhill and the whole of our land since then. They are young enough that their spiritual signature isn’t strong enough to register on normal tracking talismans.”

“Why was I not told?!” 

It burst from him, harsher from shock than he had meant and Uncle blinks, pausing in settling himself back onto his seat, brow furrowed.

But he cannot bring himself to care about disrespect, just now. Any child alone and lost is terrifying, awful. There is something, though…something about his tone, his expression that has breath caught in Xichen’s throat as slow, glacial horror creeps up from the depth of his gut. He is avoiding specifics. 

Why.

 “It is being handled already; why would I distract you from your duties? You’ve only just returned and you must--”

“Who. Which child.”

He huffs in irritation, brow furrowing further. And he shuts his mouth, lips compressing.

Xichen no longer needs an answer.

Behind him, he can hear Uncle’s voice raised in startled alarm, but he is already out the door, already leaping from the porch onto Shuoyue. The wind howls in his ears as shoots upward, speeding west to where he had felt the wards ring within him. To where A-Fu has just crossed beyond their safety.

He knows. He doesn’t know how, but he knows.

Xichen can barely breathe around the air battering his face and his own terror. The shrieking sky threatens to rip him from Shuoyue’s blade. Everything at once feels heightened, his awareness expanding to notice how chilly it is despite the sun, how the damp of the wind tearing at his hair and clothes tells of rain in the past day, how dark the woods look beneath the thick canopy blurring by below his feet. He had been alone and cold and terrified, out all night. Had the boy been trying to find his mother? Xichen? The thought made his gut writhe within him.

(They peel his little fingers from Xichen’s sleeve as he clutches and screams…)

Please please please please please

How could this happen? How could he have ever allowed this to happen? There were rivers, cliffs, steep slopes of scree, ponds, caves, animals--gods, animals alone would--

He is well enough to move, to cross the wards.

If it was him. If it were not a strong enough spiritual animal to trigger the alarm. 

There is no boy hanging among them THERE IS NO--

The invisible boundary rears up in his senses, mere seconds full tilt sword ride from the Hanshi but so, so far for a tiny child, wandering in the night. Beneath the canopy, before Shuoyue even manages to drop to a reasonable height and speed, he has already leapt off, landing at a sprint. Internally, the memory of the disruption in the web of the spell warps around his spiritual awareness like a broken arch as he crosses in that exact place. The ground is not suddenly more treacherous, the trees no more menacing, but beyond the relative safety of the Cloud Recesses, his hammering heart sees the whole world is a death trap for this little child.

(He cannot bear to see a tiny body, he can’t, he can’t--)

Skidding to a stop, he wheels in place, eyes scouring everything at knee level and below. “A-Fu!” his throat is pinched, his mouth bone dry. “A-Fu?!”

The ground cover is thick with bushes, shrubs, trees both young and fallen. The sun shines spots into his eyes through the swaying leaf cover above, dappling the floor with shadow and light, dancing, blurring. Silence. Even the birdsong had stopped when this strange being had suddenly crashed into their peaceful little clearing. He sucks in a breath to call again--and then he hears it.

There is a small child crying somewhere nearby. 

Quiet and hoarse but unmistakable.

He isn't slow, gentle, or cautious or anything that a terrified child might need right now; something else has a hold of him, now. He blindly crashes through the brush towards the sound, half skidding down a slope until--until! There! 

A blur of white amongst tree roots halfway down, a curled shape and-- “A-Fu!”--a little face, smudged and red cheeked and tear stained raises and his little eyes light with recognition and he scrabbles, fumbling and crawling out as Xichen tears back up the slope--slips, rights himself--and reaches and the boy throws himself off the lip of the hollow and into his arms, colliding hard with his chest like his heart coming home. 

He staggers, momentum and sudden weakness buckling his knees. A gnarled tree catches his side and he slides them down into the huddle of its roots, curled around him. Against his chest, wrapped in his arms, A-Fu is damp and chilly. He is covered in muck and sticks and burrs but he’s alive--alive--safe and hiccuping and piteously hoarse, tangling his hands through Xichen’s hair as he clutches him back, gasping.

He can breathe. He can finally breathe again.

Some unnameable agony, like some wild beast, is thrashing, welling up, bursting from his chest. It shakes him, tearing at his throat, his heart, his lungs, burning. It’s not relief. It's not fear. It’s…

Heedless of stitches cracking and bursting, he yanks his thicker outer robes open and over the child, tucking him deep into the pocket of warmth. He can feel him shivering, his tiny heart speeding.

He had forgotten that his head is so warm, that his hands are so tiny, just how real his weight is in his arms. When he buries his nose in the baby fluff of his hair, under the dirt and musty forest chill is that wild-sweet child smell he remembers from carrying him for days beneath his chin--and long ago from when Wangji was young. 

He tries to pull back to check him for injuries, for bruising, but he latches onto his neck and sobs. Mere minutes before, Xichen had never wanted to hear another scream again--but now he wishes A-Fu’s cries were as loud as the first day he held him, deafening and demanding, sure and strong in their conviction. These sobs are private, weak, exhausted little things. Not calling for attention. No longer certain of a trusted adult’s return.

“P’ease,” he croaks and that pain, that pressure bears down on Xichen and it feels like drowning; it feels like dying.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m here,” he whispers back, thick and choked (that thing inside him that aches, that wails, that loves is strangling him), and he draws up his knees, he wraps his robes tighter and rocks and rocks them both as it breaks--all of it, calving and crashing and surging and molten and ugly and broken--and he wants to beg ‘scream, little love, scream your heart out; someone is coming, someone will always come,’ but he doesn't have enough breath as it tears from his locked throat in silent sobs, because with unworthy hands and heart, he holds this blameless little life that has wandered through the halls of his heart leaving muddy fingerprints, and does the cruelest, most selfish thing he can ever recall doing. 

He realizes that he cannot let him go again. 

[higuchisora]

The idea of characters from other stories winding up in SVSSS has been stuck in my head for a while but I'm not gonna write abt it lmao so here's what's been rattling around in the ole noggin:

Toph:

Toph would be a genuine menace

Specifically on poor Liu Qingge, who hasn't the slightest clue how he wound up with yet another student

Earthbending should not be possible here. Earthbending is NOT possible here.

Toph invents earthbending here.

In fact, she only gets stronger. Because the cultivation aspects of the world means she's got even more qi and knows more about how to use it beyond earthbending.

She can now use qi itself to "see" (sensing others' qi, using it to sense movement, etc.) Not just earthbending

Lqg wants nothing to do with any more disciples. Especially not ones as annoying as yang yixuan

He gets a gremlin even more annoying than yang yixuan

He lies awake at night, regretting saving her life that one time on a hunt and kickstarting her path of being a Problem

Specifically, he saves her life one night while she's out trying to remaster earthbending, inspiring her to become a cultivator

She runs away from her noble family and their arranged marriage and stifling life that they've planned out for her and heads straight to Cang Qiong's Bai Zhan peak the first chance she gets

Refuses to take no for an answer, thus growing to become lqg's #1 menace

He both blesses and curses the day she was born

Lqg would sooner die than admit she's basically his other baby sister/daughter figure

Will outright refuse to fly on her sword When asked how she'll get around, the earth goddamn MOVES UNDER HER FEET and she causes several earthquake/mole monster sightings with these shenanigans

Is banned from this move

Begins to tunnel underground instead

She could arguably fly on her sword just fine, sensing the qi around her to navigate and shit, but it's harder and definitely uncomfortable and brings back bad memories of that one time in the volcano with Aang and Sokka

Luo Binghe wants her dead

She probably never gets strong enough to 1v1 him and win but she's definitely strong enough to become a genuine challenge

Especially when she reinvents metalbending

Rides for her shizun ong

Would probably fight lbh for lqg's honor after the SQQ corpse situation (he did not ask her to do this)

Aang:

The angel of Qing Jing peak fr

Or that monastery but we don't hear enough about them tbh

Has legitimately no idea how he got here, maybe too scared to question it actually

Like, did he really fuck up and end up getting ripped out of the avatar cycle orrrr????

Decides some things are better left unknown

The only struggle he really has is not being bald anymore

Honestly???? Might still shave his head and just stick to a wig

Would inevitably get caught or ALMOST caught and eventually gets used to growing it out (would probably become the inventor of extensions or wig glue though lmao)

Would make the spoiled qing jing disciples better just by being around them tbh

Star student probably, would be a menace in a cute way

One of the few men allowed on Xian Shu (for visits/messages)

Would probably befriend demons ngl

Loves flying on his sword

Prefers his staff though, and eventually figures out how to make/get someone to make one for him

No one knows how he does the air scooter. They are scared.

No one asks about the tattoos either.

Or how he's controlling all these fucking elements.

He doesn't have an avatar state anymore, but that doesn't seem to stop him from being wildly more dangerous than anyone expected

Possibly unlocks permanent cultivation-blocking? Like sealing off your core

Demons don't take note

Until he learns how to do the same for demonic cores

Exorcist Aang

Possibly becomes a rogue/wandering cultivator

Wandering rogue exorcist Aang????

He's either a god descended upon the earth or a heavenly demon in disguise, according to critics

He thinks it's all silly

Until he meditates too hard and communes with a god or something who tells him they may or may not have bargained to snatch his corner of the avatars soul for a reason

Uh oh

Sokka:

Does not know how he managed to get spiritual energy or cultivate

Actively chooses not to think too much about it

The head disciple of An Ding 😭

Absolutely salty about it

Shang Qinghua is endlessly grateful though

Does not know what to make of the long hair thing; probably tries to keep his hair in a half-pony still, as an ode to the water tribe

I've seen some fics where Qiong Ding is headcannoned as the bureaucratic peak; in this case, he might be able to sweet talk his way in if fate and Yue Qingyuan is kind enough

Either way he's grateful he gets to do sword stuff again

Especially now that he can FLY on them?!

He hasn't completely forgotten his skills, so he's got a whole different style no one's seen before and it's Weirdly Good Actually

He finally works his cultivation up enough to get his personal sword

Then he finally gets to summon his and he cries

It's space sword

No one knows what the fuck to make of this weird ass sword but he doesn't care, it's his and he loves it

Known as the best ever manager of An Ding peak

Katara:

Would have one (1) argument with her brother and march up to Xian Shu

Frequent visitor of Qing Jing and Qian Cao

Mu Qingfang mourns every day that she didn't choose the medicine peak

Katara maintains that she's too ready to beat some ass to ever be a full doctor and vow to do no harm

Never quite learns to be comfy with a sword but can still handle her own

During the demon invasion on Cang Qiong (assuming she's there at the time), she bloodbends Hualing right off the mountain

The demons do NOT stick around

The cultivators are too scared to ask her what the fuck that was but they're nicer to her than before

The xian shu peak gains a fearsome reputation of possibly teaching blood magic

No One gets how she does the waterbending stuff. Outsiders assume it's some Xian Shu ancient secret technique. Or she's related to Mobei Jun. Real members know Kataras just Like This.

Keeps the hair loopies. No matter what people say.

Wears a blue necklace similar to her mother's heirloom; a gift from her shizun probably

Genuinely enjoys the sisterhood on Xian Shu. It reminds her of the better days of her home, before the southern raiders came back

Zuko:

Could've chosen from several peaks, but chooses Bai Zhan

Something about the bamboo on Qing Jing reminds him of his uncle though, so he likes to visit. But not for too long. It hurts.

Isn't really bothered by the long hair thing; while cutting hair isn't forbidden in the fire nation, long hair is common practice, especially for nobles

Keeps the standard topknot until Toph calls it ugly

And then he remembers toph cannot see his topknot

Starts doing ponytails anyway

Also a star student of Bai Zhan, especially after he busts out the firebending forms

Yet another nuisance for poor lqg

He and Toph are the only two that can keep up with each other

Known as the Twin Stars of Bai Zhan

Aka the Twin Headaches of Liu Qingge

Has a small red birthmark near his eye, on the side that used to be burned

The fact that there isn't a massive burn is mildly uncomfortable to him at first. Doesn't feel like himself

Again, No One knows how all these kids with weird qi abilities are coming from

They're beginning to suspect they're all part demon

Neither he nor Toph ever defeat the demon heritage allegations

Especially not with the way they fight. And allegedly have a Past that no one else knows about

Would also fight Binghe for his Shizuns honor

Weirdly chill for Bai Zhan actually

Has probably made leaps and bounds from his avatar hunting days already

Most expect him to have gone to a quieter peak, it's baffling

Until he beats the shit outta somebody

And then goes back to being gentle and chill and forgiving

He wonders if uncle Iroh is watching over him here too

He can only hope his uncle is still proud of him, wherever he might be

Lqg isn't his uncle, but he's still a kind presence that Zuko looks up to a little, even if the guy is a little too punchy

Thus takes it upon himself to ride or die for him

One of the few dual wielders around

His curved blades are also a source of curiosity for the others

But he's good with them so no one complains

In a bingliushen situation, Zuko, Toph, and YYX are feral protective gremlins that somehow make things better AND worse for the development of the bingliushen courtship process lmao

I'll probably make more at some point but that's all for now. If someone wants to make a fic of these PLEASE let me know, link me I'm desperate

[vasito-de-leche]

iff its still alright for requests then maybe somethingg small n maybe sleepy with forget me not ? nothing specific otherwise just

sleepy eeby forget me not fic. either that or wrangling his soggy ass to sleep(for once

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "five minutes"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.8k words fluff Being in charge of The Walden has its ups and downs - Forget Me Not enjoys being the conductor of an orchestra composed of dying men and women, even if it costs him hours of precious sleep. You make sure to remind him that even the most powerful broker in Chicago deserves a little nap.

this mf has been fighting me for a month or so, it's so hard to write him SLEEPING, HE RLLY DOESNT WANT TO. I HAVE 3 DIFFERENT DRAFTS GRAAAA so here we are. I fought tooth and nail for this, theres 4 different drafts just about FMN getting some fucking sleep. this one even has like, a different version where you fall asleep on his lap instead bc he keeps FIGHTING ME

either way, ty for the request, nonnie! your ask was the perfect excuse to get this done. sorry it ended up being longer than my usual stuff, I just really love the guy

The amount of work needed to maintain an establishment like The Walden often goes unnoticed.

Its elegant ambience and decor, all the powerful and influential people to rub shoulders with, the precise and meticulous organization behind every single detail and decision - all of it can be attributed to a single man, the very same who leads the crowd and makes their drinks.

When the night arrives, he and The Walden come alive.

Hundreds of desperate rats crawl into his den, searching for things they don't deserve: money, fame, fortune, connections, assets. They want to find their place in the world before they're long forgotten, and this is when Forget Me Not steps onto the stage and finds himself in his element, surrounded by all the people who look at him in fear, disgust and awe.

Do they know? That at the end of the world, he holds their fate in the palm of his hand? Him, a simple broker, a middle man.

An inferior, an arcanist.

Of course, the high fades as soon as the sun rears its ugly head over the horizon, his spirits plummet to the ground when the world returns to that monotonous routine. All Forget Me Not can do now is wait.

He would never dream of being so careless as to have his own residence right above his workplace, but he rarely steps into his home in the first place. It's too much trouble to commute back and forth, wasting time in a building that is as devoid of warmth as the blood running through his veins. That private office nestled somewhere within The Walden has become his new safe haven, in fact - with one too many couches to lounge around and no bed in sight.

Not that he sleeps anyway.

Forget Me Not always fancied the most convoluted route into an early grave, and thus has replaced the bottle for something else: endless paperwork.

It's getting harder and harder to conceal the dark bags under his eyes for a semblance of professionalism. How very fitting that, despite all of his efforts and accomplishments, his quality of life continues to deteriorate. What a depressing thought.

The leather of his seat squeaks as he shifts, leaning backwards to fully take in the piles and piles of files atop his desk. His gaze turns to the clock just to confirm what he already knows - it's a little past 6 AM, the cold breeze of the early morning keeping him wide awake. A brand new shipment of materials will arrive in two hours, they will need to be stored but it's an easy enough job for the Disciples. This means that the next important event on his schedule is the meeting at 11 AM. Forget Me Not's face sours right away at the thought, and he reaches for his drink.

And just like that, without any sort of warning, the door to his office is flung open. It's a good thing that despite his awful, awful health, his grip is as steady as ever - not a single drop is spilled. If else, Forget Me Not remains still as a statue, retaining that air of composed aloofness as he raises an inquisitive eyebrow towards the intruder.

It's you, standing perfectly by his door frame. He almost drops the glass once he recognizes your face, but conceals his little slip by settling it back down on his desk.

"Ah, how rare to see you during the day, you're always so busy with errands. To what do I owe this loud, impromptu visit? Keep in mind, I don't start serving drinks until 8 PM."

You don't wait for him to finish, marching towards the small lounge in his office and picking up a small, decorative pillow before dropping backwards onto one of the sofas. A shadow passes over Forget Me Not's eyes - he doesn't know whether to resent you for knowing you have the freedom and privilege to act like this around him, or whether to feel insulted for the way you ignored him just now. He settles for his usual third, secret option - resignation - and makes his way towards you.

Unlike you, Forget Me Not has mastered the art of concealing his presence and so he makes no sound at all when he approaches. He stands right next you, leaning ever so slightly to hover above your face, as if his piercing grey eyes alone could pressure you into speaking.

It doesn't work, at least not right away. You hide behind that useless pillow, then you shift and turn to lay on your side, all while he simply stands in perfect silence. It's a battle of attrition, one he intends to win.

"I slept like shit, okay? Just give me five minutes here and I'll go back to work." Your voice is muffled, but he hears how tired you are anyway.

It's easy to forget that people aren't nocturnal like him, at least not by choice. It's easy to forget about humanity when most of his coworkers are puppets held by strings and ink, mindlessly following orders. When you curl up on the sofa, Forget Me Not remembers just how tired he is and sighs. Soon, he's walking towards the door.

This makes you sit up in a hurry, clearly misinterpreting his actions. "Five minutes, promise! Don't kick me out!"

There's a faint click, it's the lock on the door. Forget Me Not returns to his desk, making sure not to look your way lest his eyes reveal those wretched feelings bubbling in his chest. Did you seriously think he had the nerve to throw you out so carelessly?

"Ten minutes. Make sure not to waste them with chitchat." He can practically sense you silently cheering and getting comfortable in his office. On his couch. It's insufferable, the way you always get what you want while he slaves away with work.

But it's only ten minutes, he can tolerate you for that long.

Three minutes pass, and Forget Me Not realizes that he's spent more time glancing your way than reading the document in front of him.

From his spot, he can only see the top of your head, just a glimpse of your form as you rest your eyes. But every time you move, no matter how subtle, he notices and turns his attention back onto you.

Seven minutes, he only needs to focus for seven minutes. The document in his hand is important: he's negotiating for better materials for his potions at a cheaper cost. This simple deal could mean a lot for Manus Vindictae, always so low on funds, resources and support.

Six minutes. Forget Me Not hears you hum and he slowly turns his head on instinct. You're staring right at him, face resting on the armrest, squishing your cheek against the plush cushions.

"You have four minutes left, are you sure you want to waste them like this?" He lies, as if he wasn't ready to ignore the passage of time to give you a few more extra minutes, expecting you to comply. But you get back at him with a question of your own.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Three minutes." It comes out as a warning. You ignore it.

"I'm serious! You look awful from here." By now, you're sitting down and he knows that if he doesn't stop you, you'll make your way to him. To invade his personal space, cradle his face in your hands and torture him with your gentle touch. "You're always here when I start my shift and when I finish. Where do you get the time to go home and all of that?"

Forget Me Not would rather swallow his own tongue than to openly admit that he essentially lives here. That he has spare clothes in the drawer by the window, that he showers, eats and sleeps in this office of his. You might've figured it out by now, but with his pride and dignity at stake, he pretends to ignore you in favour of work.

"Hey, c'mon. Don't just go back to work like I'm not even here talking to you!" He does exactly that, picking up a pen to sign a few documents. "Drop that. Drop the pen. Hey!"

You talk to him the same way one would talk to a misbehaving dog, and he hears that whiny, frustrated tone in your voice that he's come to appreciate. There is a pause and Forget Me Not does as told - the pen now resting neatly on the desk.

He finally deigns himself to look at you, returning a small smile.

"Thank you, now, like I was saying-"

Thud!

With his free hand, he stamps a document, never breaking eye contact. The pettiness is always worth it, but this time even more so when he sees that tic in your eye and the way you inhale sharply, absolutely done with him. You sit up, consider laying down again in frustration, then simply cross your arms like a child throwing a tantrum - seeing you get worked up over the smallest of things is always such a treat.

"Fine! Be like that! But don't come running when you- Uwaaah!" A yawn interrupts your words, you barely have time to cover your mouth.

Oh no. It's contagious. He feels that tell-tale tingle in his nose, and just like that, he yawns as well.

"Aha! You are tired, I bet you haven't slept properly in days!" An accusatory finger is now pointed at him, and Forget Me Not fights the impulse to roll his eyes.

"That's quite the leap to make over a simple gesture like that. Your time is up, by the way - please, go back to work."

"I'm telling on you, Forget Me Not. I'm so telling on you."

He gives a raspy laugh at this. "And who will you be telling about my horrible sleeping habits? The waiters? The delivery boy? Our esteemed guests?" The latter would definitely eat up any sort of information about his private life, especially if it was something to ruin his reputation, but he doesn't share this out loud.

"Ahh... So, you admit it, then? Having the worst sleeping schedule known to mankind?" Touché.

Before he can even reply, your mouth opens in a feigned yawn and Forget Me Not seethes when he finds himself imitating you. He seethes even more over the smug smile on your face. And he wishes he could just die on the spot when you scoot over and pat the empty seat next to you. Him? Rest? With you? Absolutely not.

"Ten minutes," a tight knot forms in his throat when you start to coax him in. "I'm sure you can spare that much, since you've been indulging me for this long! If you were actually busy, you would've just sent me home to rest. C'mere, sit."

What is the point in keeping track of time by now? Forget Me Not will be by your side until you decide to leave. Indulging you and your stupid ideas, your well-meaning and annoying habits, your reactions - all of it, they're his favorite vice and he never learned how to quit.

"Five minutes." He sits next to you.

"Fair enough." You scoot closer to him.

He watches when you link your arm with his, not bothering to ask for permission. Typical. Your palm is warm as you rest it over his forearm, fingers drumming idly over the soft fabric of his shirt. But you don't linger for too long, and slide down until your index and middle fingers reach the bare skin of his inner wrist, over the pronounced vein there. Can you feel his pulse? The shameless and frantic beat of his heart?

Forget Me Not is so entranced by this simple action that he fails to notice the sudden extra weight - your head rests on his shoulder, with your cheek pressed against the prominent bone. He knows it's an uncomfortable position, because you shift and nuzzle closer to his chest, the top of your head and your hair now tickling his neck and jawline. The knot in his throat returns and he holds his breath on instinct, like an animal at the verge of being devoured.

Nevermind the constant cycle of violence and doom he's turned his life into, these are the horrors that keep Forget Me Not up at night: your body against his, your displays of affection.

"Your eyes," the soft murmur of your voice pulls him from the awful, nonsensical noise in his mind. You're looking up at him. "You're meant to close them. That's what this whole thing is for. Unless ...you can sleep with your eyes open?"

"Don't be ridiculous. As if such a short amount of time could make me fall asleep." He huffs, a way to conceal just how out of breath he is. Part of him is afraid to close his eyes, knowing that he will feel each and every little thing you do - only tenfold. And what would he do with himself then, when all he can focus on is your finger tracing shapes over his palm? It tickles. It's distracting. It's unbearable.

His hand flinches, just barely, and you interlock your fingers with his in response.

"Hush and close them!" Always so obedient to your commands, Forget Me Not does as told, cursing you in his mind.

He gives you an inch, and you take a mile - the moment his eyes are closed, his body turns rigid but you still coax him backwards, so that he can lean on the backrest of the couch. It takes the coordinated effort of every single muscle in his body not to melt on the spot, to remain in a proper, sitting position. With you nestled so comfortably by his side, Forget Me Not makes the worst mistake in his life: he turns his head towards you, his nose now buried in your hair.

The content and pleased noise that leaves him is something that feels alien, entirely out of character for someone like him. Right away, he feels the tips of ears burning with shame and his body uselessly recoils away from you, trying to revert back into that persona he's created for the world.

It backfires immediately.

"...Hm? Is your arm getting numb? Here, let's switch." You move away, all while your hands cradle his face in order to guide him over to your lap.

It's a painfully slow process that is simultaneously over in the blink of an eye. Forget Me Not doesn't know what's worse, the fact that he didn't put up a fight or the way he feels so incredibly small, being held so lovingly by you.

He's laying on his back, hands resting uselessly over his chest like a corpse in an open casket funeral. If he glances upwards (a difficult thing to do, because you flick his forehead whenever you catch him wide awake) he can see you hoarding all the pillows available within your reach to support you as you lounge about, still hellbent on sleeping in with him.

Did he die at some point throughout the day without noticing? Is this his own personal Hell? Forget Me Not wants to speak, to say anything and regain control of the situation, but nothing comes out. All there is to do is to lay there, with your hands combing through his hair.

His heart might as well burst out of his chest. Even better, crawl up his throat and choke him from inside out.

Without thinking, he sits up. It's a nervous impulse. You can't see his face with his back turned to you and he's grateful for the small moment of privacy, as he steels himself to send you away. Or to fuck off into The Walden and walk around aimlessly to cool off, and then avoid you for a few weeks. Whichever comes first.

"Oh! Want a pillow or something? I kind of just took them all without thinking." He doesn't deserve this sort of contact, this domestic bliss - he doesn't want it either.

"Hey, do you think we could do this more often? Just... make some time for me in that busy schedule of yours?" And why would he? You're already pretty skilled at turning his life upside down with your constant nagging and your antics.

"Sorry for being this sappy so suddenly, it just came to mind...Oh, oh! Wait! While you're at it, mind closing the window, please? It's getting a liiittle cold in here."

Forget Me Not leaves his glasses on the table and lays back down, this time making sure to wrap his arms as tightly as he can around your waist, his face hidden in your stomach. What he receives is a weak chuckle, a weak complaint and a weak attempt at pushing him away. You don't mean it, of course - the same way he never means any of the things he thinks.

"Hm, I believe it's perfect like this."

"You're just saying that because you're going to leech off my own body heat, you little snake."

There's a hint of victory in your voice, you've won once again against him but you're always too nice to rub it in. Instead, you caress the scales on his neck, now on full display for you. It's a heavenly sensation.

"Perhaps," he murmurs, eyes closed. "But what are you going to do? Kick me out of my own office?"

"I might if you don't get some rest. Sleep, now."

And just like that, Forget Me Not unravels - he's been waiting so long to be given permission, for someone to allow him a moment of peace despite all these restraints holding him back.

He knows that the moment wakes up, he will act like none of this happened, that he will stubbornly deny everything until his very last breath, but right now, he clings onto you like his life depends on it.

And he falls asleep with your name on his lips

[linguisticdiscovery]

Ways English borrowed words from Latin

Latin has been influencing English since before English existed!

Here’s a non-exhaustive list of ways that English got vocabulary from Latin:

early Latin influence on the Germanic tribes: The Germanic tribes borrowed words from the Romans while still in continental Europe, before coming to England.

camp, wall, pit, street, mile, cheap, mint, wine, cheese, pillow, cup, linen, line, pepper, butter, onion, chalk, copper, dragon, peacock, pipe, bishop

Roman occupation of England: The Celts borrowed words from the Romans when the Romans invaded England, and the Anglo-Saxons later borrowed those Latin words from the Celts.

port, tower, -chester / -caster / -cester (place name suffix), mount

Christianization of the Anglo-Saxons: Roman missionaries to England converted the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity and brought Latin with them.

altar, angel, anthem, candle, disciple, litany, martyr, mass, noon, nun, offer, organ, palm, relic, rule, shrine, temple, tunic, cap, sock, purple, chest, mat, sack, school, master, fever, circle, talent

Norman Conquest: The Norman French invaded England in 1066 under William the Conqueror, making Norman French the language of the state. Many words were borrowed from French, which had evolved out of Latin.

noble, servant, messenger, feast, story, government, state, empire, royal, authority, tyrant, court, council, parliament, assembly, record, tax, subject, public, liberty, office, warden, peer, sir, madam, mistress, slave, religion, confession, prayer, lesson, novice, creator, saint, miracle, faith, temptation, charity, pity, obedience, justice, equity, judgment, plea, bill, panel, evidence, proof, sentence, award, fine, prison, punishment, plead, blame, arrest, judge, banish, property, arson, heir, defense, army, navy, peace, enemy, battle, combat, banner, havoc, fashion, robe, button, boots, luxury, blue, brown, jewel, crystal, taste, toast, cream, sugar, salad, lettuce, herb, mustard, cinnamon, nutmeg, roast, boil, stew, fry, curtain, couch, screen, lamp, blanket, dance, music, labor, fool, sculpture, beauty, color, image, tone, poet, romance, title, story, pen, chapter, medicine, pain, stomach, plague, poison

The Renaissance: The intense focus on writings from classical antiquity during the Renaissance led to the borrowing of numerous words directly from Latin.

atmosphere, disability, halo, agile, appropriate, expensive, external, habitual, impersonal, adapt, alienate, benefit, consolidate, disregard, erupt, exist, extinguish, harass, meditate

The Scientific Revolution: The need for new technical and scientific terms led to many neoclassical compounds formed from Classical Greek and Latin elements, or new uses of Latin prefixes.

automobile, transcontinental, transformer, prehistoric, preview, prequel, subtitle, deflate, component, data, experiment, formula, nucleus, ratio, structure

Not to mention most borrowings from other Romance languages, such as Spanish or Italian, which also evolved from Latin.

Further Reading: A history of the English language (Baugh & Cable)