#do you honestly expect after our exile

[ronwestbreeze]

you're gonna go far | 5

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.4k

read on ao3

“What do you mean pregnant?” Jake questioned looking absolutely bewildered.

Next to you, Norm cleared his throat, “While we were doing our rounds here, Dr. Reeds discovered it. We ran some tests and turns out it’s true. Grace’s avatar is pregnant.”

Jake frowned, “I’m sorry, that still doesn’t explain how she got like this.”

You shrugged, not looking up from your tablet, “Well, apparently when two avatars love each other very much—”

“We don’t know.” Norm instead answered, sending you a glare, to which you ignored.

After your rather strange discovery, Norm got in touch with Jake and an hour later the rest of the scientists were cleared out of the room. And in replacement, three tall ass Na’vi crowded around Augustine’s avatar tank while you and Norm—still in human form—stood on the other side of the tank, staring straight at the glass while Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey looked over it.

Their reactions were as expected. Jake confused. Neytiri wary yet curious. And Tsu’tey with his usual scowl—you were seriously beginning to think it was just the way his face was set—but with a hint of apprehension.

“She’s two months along or more, I’m honestly surprised we hadn’t noticed it until now.” Norm frowned, looking at the small stomach. The avatar wasn’t showing yet, perhaps because of how thin they all naturally were—but upon further inspection, the small two-month-old bump was quite noticeable.

“So, it just appeared? No explanation?” Jake questioned, also frowning down at the avatar. “How is that even possible?”

Again, you shrugged and finally looked up from your tablet. “Well, that depends,” Frankly, you didn’t want to be here. Being practically stuck in the same room with two people who both pissed you off and had you on guard constantly. Like they were going to attack you at any second—perhaps throw more baseless accusations your way. It would often leave you exhausted afterward. “What exactly was Dr. Augustine doing before her avatar ended up unresponsive? Any secret relationships? Did you ever find her sneaking out—possibly to meet someone in secret?”

 Jake was the one who responded, unfortunately. “We shared a station together for three months. She never left that place or met with anyone.”

Norm nodded in agreement while Neytiri placed her hand on the tank glass, “In her last moments we tried moving her spirit through Eywa and into her false body. But she was very weak…Could she have been with child then?”

“Had to be. She couldn’t have been pregnant after—after she passed.” Norm crossed his arms—almost like he was hugging himself.

Well, that wasn’t much to go on but you didn’t say it out loud since the very sight of this woman’s avatar—or at least talking about her clearly made the four of them react.

You had no personal connection to the late Dr. Grace Augustine, she was your role model of course but that was about it. You’ve never met her, therefore you were the only one with an unbiased perspective.

Their reactions were different but the same in some ways.

Norm hid it by pushing forward and moving the conversation along. Neytiri doesn’t hide her emotion when talking about Dr. Augustine. Her face was gentle and grief-stricken. You wondered if Neteyam, who was snuggly strapped to her chest, felt his mother’s strong emotions.

Jake wore a mask of sorts but you could still see the traits. Low ears, tail tucked behind his leg, avoidant gaze—it was then you realized how easy it was to read Na’vi’s expressions. You wondered if reading humans was difficult for them, except for Jake. Na’vi just had a more expressive face. Unless they were experienced at hiding it well.

Like Tsu’tey. The clan leader looked distant and was the quietest out of the four.

You supposed that Grace seemed to be the one thing that bonded the four. Especially Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey. They had each other to lean on, you could tell by how unconsciously they neared each other.

But you and Norm? Maybe you could lean on each other but it wasn’t necessarily the same.

You lost your mother. Who could you lean on?

It must’ve been nice.

You knew you had been staring too long when Tsu’tey’s eyes locked with yours.

As subtly as you could, you looked away to tune in back to what Norm was saying, “So obvious questions aside, what should we do?”

“That’s not an obvious question?” You frowned, earning a jab in your side from him.

The three were quiet as they glanced at each other—or rather they were having a silent conversation with each other. You could tell by the way Jake raised his brows in question. Neytiri’s meaningful look. And Tsu’tey’s narrowed eyes.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and cleared your throat, drawing their attention to you, “While you guys decide who should take care of it, the avatar would have to stay here. The baby—if there is truly one in there—would have to be born here.”

Norm nodded in agreement, “Grace’s avatar will be under Dr. Reeds’ care since she is the one who identified the fetus—"

“No.” Tsu’tey instantly scowled.

“Told you,” Norm mumbled next to you.

You rolled your eyes, briefly locking eyes with Neytiri who watched the two of you with a small frown. There was a flash of something that floated passed her eyes, something you didn’t have time to make out right now.

“The Sky People know nothing about caring for a child of our people.” Tsu’tey scowled. “None of them do! I will not trust the child—or sa’nok’s body in the hands of—”

“—Demon. Yeah, you’ve made that clear.” You cut in calmly, earning a warning look from Norm and a vicious glare from the clan leader. You ignored both, “The facts don’t change. The body cannot be moved. The avatar is essentially dead—this tank is its life support, therefore the baby’s life support. So, if we keep the avatar and the baby here—"

“You do not get to decide this—”

Now you were irritated. You tried. You really did. “Then deal with a dead fucking baby for all I care—”

“Reeds.” Norm frowned.

“Tsu’tey!” Neytiri hissed, giving the man’s arm a slight shove.

The only person who appeared calm was Jake—which wasn’t surprising. He was looking at you, not with malice or accusation, but with contemplation. “If we keep the baby here…?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and let out a short, agitated breath. “Since the avatar is basically dead, it can’t push the baby out the usual way when the time comes to it. We’d have to perform a C-section to get it out.” Tsu’tey opened his mouth to protest but you quickly beat him to it, “Once the baby is born, it’s yours. I nor the rest of us have an interest in keeping it here. It would be illogical. Are rations are terrible already—we don’t have the resources to take care of a baby. So you won’t have to worry about it being raised by demons.”

In the last part, you directed your pointed look toward Tsu’tey was still glaring at you. A part of you was smug, the fear and hesitation around him slowly going away.

You really didn’t care much for what he thought about you and you made sure he knew it. Of course, being this reckless with your mouth wasn’t the smartest idea and he probably didn’t appreciate it—but perhaps that was the best part about it.

He hissed something in Na’vi at you, which he knew you wouldn’t understand. The one thing he had over you. And with his own carefully crafted smugness, he knew this too. You rolled your eyes.

Neytiri snapped at him in response which seemed to surprise both Tsu’tey and Jake. You glanced toward Norm with a questioning look. He leaned toward your ear and mumbled, “Essentially, Neytiri’s okay with you watching over Grace’s avatar.” You both watched Tsu’tey reply with the same amount of ferocity. “And Tsu’tey’s pissed that she’s siding with you.”

You hummed but didn’t respond. Neytiri agreed with the plan, this also surprised you but you refused to allow the others to see that. Instead, you’d hold your chin high and bathe in your victory of having at least one of them agree with you for once.

It was nice that Neytiri was defending your idea. At least someone in this room was sane enough to.

Jake, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly cut into Neytiri and Tsu’tey’s argument, which caused the both of them to turn to him. He said something to them in a lowered voice and before you could ask Norm what he was saying, Neytiri and a begrudged Tsu’tey suddenly left the room.

You watched their retreating figures with quiet curiosity, until Jake spoke again in English, “Norm, can Reeds and I have the room?”

Now you were frowning. Hell, you were sure you looked like Tsu’tey then. Norm gave you a pleading look, one that said, ‘Just talk to him’.

And it took a lot. Every bit of strength to restrain yourself from snapping at Norm and telling him it was a bad idea to leave the both of you alone.

But instead, you ended up holding back a groan in your throat. You wouldn’t let him see you snap like that. You wouldn’t break your resolve so easily around him again.

 Eventually, you nodded stiffly, “Go ahead. We’ll be quick.”

After a nod and a pat on your shoulder, Norm left you and Jake alone.

The last time the two of you had been alone was when you set your mother’s lab on fire. You wondered if this was his chance to find fault in you again. To throw more accusations your way.

Jake watched you. And you watched him.

Stubbornly, you weren’t going to speak first. After all, he was the one who wanted to talk to you alone.

After another few seconds of you sizing each other up, he finally spoke, “Why the sudden interest in looking after Grace’s child, huh? What’s in it for you?”

You raised a brow, “Do you want some kind of sinister motive?”

He frowned at your very sardonic response, “No. Just the truth, if that isn’t too much.”

“The idea of truth seems subjective here.” You argued dryly. “No matter what I say, somehow I’m still made into this heartless demon you all have painted in your image. Don’t be surprised when I start acting like it at some point.” The latter was a dark joke of your own. But you failed to make that known to him.

Jake glared, leaning on the tank. The glass was impenetrable, it wouldn’t break under his weight. But it would leave unnecessary hand prints for someone to clean later. “Christ, can we just be straight with each other? You said yourself you had no interest in raising it. So why willingly volunteer to watch it?”

Despite your dislike for being alone with him—or him in general—you expected this question. It was an easy answer to which you had no problem responding to. Whatever it took to get this interaction done and over with as quickly as possible.

So, you gave a simple shrug, “The avatar got pregnant without having any intercourse. And I’ve checked. The development is impossible but remarkable. I want to study it closely, to learn how it happened and how it will continue to develop over time. Hell, we’re not even sure if this is an actual baby inside. Could be something else. We won’t know until it’s out.”

The answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. You could tell by the way his ears remained pinned at the side of his head, “So that’s what all of this is to you? A science project?”

“I’m a scientist.” You said plainly as if the answer was obvious. “Plus, it gives me something to do here. I have to make up the time I’ve lost.”

Jake frowned as if waiting for more. You did not offer more.

“And you think you are capable of doing it?” It was your turn to frown. That was a question you weren’t exactly prepared for. More or less that was the last thing you expected him to ask. “Are you really equipped to take on something like this? Especially now?”

You glared now, “Are you questioning my credentials?”

“No, I have no doubt that you’re good in your field—”

“Excellent. I am excellent in my field.”

“—Your actions are unpredictable—”

“Ah, so you’re questioning my stability.” Your skin boiled with barely hidden rage. You wouldn’t let him see you snap like that. You wouldn’t break your resolve so easily around him again. “Afraid I’ll blow up another lab?”

Jake scowled, “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

It was a standoff. The two of you. Jake’s gaze was intense and yours severe. His jaw tightened and he shook his head with a humorless snicker, “You're impossible.”

“And you have no right to question whether or not I am in stable condition for a job I am qualified for.” You snapped back, your resolve barely holding by a thread. “So, is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Is that why you wanted to see me alone so that you could ridicule me without eyes watching? Do you think you’re a better man for that, Sully? Why don’t you just be straight with me, like you wanted? Stop fucking beating around the bush!”

“Yeah?” He challenged with a mocking chuckle. “You want me to be straight with you? Fine. Tsu’tey doesn’t trust you with Grace’s avatar—”

You scoffed, “Clearly!”

“—and I don’t either.”

With a shrug, you placed your tablet down, “Frankly, Sully, I have no interest in earning your trust. I’m here to do my job. That’s all. A job I have no choice in doing since I am stuck here on your planet. Trust has nothing to do with it.”

He looked resigned, guarding his face once more. The silence was all too consuming.

Jake didn’t want this. He was supposed to be making peace with you. At least attempt to be cordial with one another.

But you were impossible. You were difficult.

You saw no point to this conversation. Never did from the beginning. Why he wanted to talk to you in private only to rehash what’s already been said. What’s already been known. You didn’t understand what he was trying to do here. There was nothing else they could possibly talk about past the subject of the mysterious fetus. You did not want to be here.

He was impossible. He was difficult.

Jake straightened his back—a small inkling in the back of your mind wondered if that was the Marine in him. Standing to attention, as if addressing someone with power well above him. Or his enemy. You really couldn’t tell with them. “So where does that leave us?”

“It’s really simple, actually.” You crossed your arms. “The body can’t be moved. The avatar stays here. And so does the growing fetus. You clearly want it so it will be all yours when it’s born. Far away from my destructive hands. Does that work for you?”

After a long—unnecessary bout of silence—Jake finally pushed away from the tank, “Norm will be with you?”

You glared and clenched your jaw, “If that will get you to leave quicker, then yes.”

His tail lashed behind him, “Fine. Do what you want.”

Finally, he left. And you were alone.

After a moment of silence. After a moment of gathering yourself with a bit of pride left , you moved closer toward Dr. Augustine’s tank and frowned down at the growing stomach, “Good luck, kid. If you’re not careful, he just might end up as your father.”

The following days continued as usual, except after you were done with your garden, you headed over to the tank room to check on the fetus. You did things like making sure it’s kept healthy and or safely growing in the womb. Surprisingly, it was just as peaceful as tending to your garden. Sometimes a few scientists would pop in every now and then to check on other tanks, but most times it was just you and Dr. Augustine’s avatar. And it wasn’t entirely so bad being in almost total silence for the first time in a while.

Neytiri would come to the gardens whenever she could. Either keeping you company while giving advice and directions about how to better your crops. Or gently scolding you about how loud you continue to be while trekking through the forest.

Today, you were doing the latter. It was something different, a little change in your usual routine. You now carried your tablet in a bag in case any alert from Dr. Augustine’s avatar notified you as you followed Neytiri through the forest. Mimicking her every movement like you had done last time.

“You move with the forest. You listen. You see.” Neytiri jumped over a branch as you finally finished the climb up the tree the both of you were on. A part of you was envious of her ability to climb with ease while your cheeks only flushed with both being out of breath and embarrassed as she watched you try and fail to climb this godforsaken tree.

“Okay,” You nodded as you settled on the branch with her. It was uncomfortable, especially squatting the way she was. “What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?”

Neytiri frowned, “I cannot make you see. Only you can.”

You looked down at your now bare feet, not really sure how to respond to that or what it really meant. And you had a feeling that if you asked again, she’d probably scold you for it and further confuse you. So instead you looked up at some of the leaves above you. You raised your hand and let your fingers gently graze it, so very gently as if it would crumble beneath your touch.

The forest was overwhelmingly beautiful. Every day it was like you were looking at it for the first time. The healthy trees and plants. The wildlife that you avoided but watched from afar. Hearing the quiet streams of water running about in whichever direction you turned.

Somedays it reminded you of what you lost back on Earth. What the world had done to it. And how many, many years ago it had once looked as beautiful as this.

On other days, you appreciated the forest. For its food, for its beauty. Sometimes you liked the idea of calling this place your new home even though you weren’t quite sure what the exact word ‘home’ meant to you right now.

While caught up in your misty thoughts, you missed the way Neytiri watched you quietly. How she noticed your hidden wonder. The way your lips almost curve up until it’s back in that firm straight line again. Or how your face became gentle even for the slightest second before it’s gone as quickly as it had come. Like you were consciously keeping yourself from being content.

It was intriguing, watching how Sky People worked. Though of course, Neytiri would never admit this out loud.

But most of all, it was intriguing—almost alluring—watching how you worked.

Eventually, she caught sight of your mother’s songcord still wrapped around your wrist with a small frown.

Your slow methodic thoughts were soon interrupted when Neytiri grasped the wrist with your mother’s songcord around it. Instantly you tensed as she brought your wrist closer for her to see. But once you realize she made no sudden moves to take the cord from you, you relax. Only slightly.

She thumbed one of the beads, “When you die, your family sings your songcord to remember your life. And then it is given back to you.” Neytiri looked at you then, curiously. “You do not know your mother’s songcord.”

It wasn’t a question but more a knowing statement. Carefully, you took your wrist back from hers and held it close to your chest, “Obviously, I didn’t get much of a chance to.”

She nodded but didn’t push on the subject. Instead, she stood up on the branch just as something shuffled below the both of you.

Neytiri grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, “Come, come!”

Shed led you through the trees. It was especially difficult to keep up going from branch to branch and copying her movements to the best of your ability. At some points, you nearly slipped only to be quickly caught by Neytiri and forced to keep going. You both admired and envied her ease in prowess.

At some point, you both landed in a tree that gave you both a good view of the forest floor. There, was a creature slinking around the thick bushes. Neytiri crouched on the branch to watch the creature just as another came out into the light.

“Nantang.” She pointed at the creature below. “You Sky People call them viperwolf.”

“Nantung.” You repeated slowly, crouching down next to her.

“Nantang.” She corrected.

“Nantang.”

With a small nod, she gave your forehead a little shove with an open palm hand, “You are not good with our language.”

But she didn’t seem annoyed when she said this. Instead, she looked rather amused with the way her ears were raised high and her tail swinging behind her.

Below you, the viperwolves began moving away from the trees and further within the bushes. You watched them curiously, moving Neytiri’s hand from your forehead, “Are they dangerous? The—Nantang?”

“Most are.” Neytiri frowned, dropping her hand to her side. She then stood. “We leave them be. We do not kill unless—unless we have no choice.”

“Hmm, so no hunting them then?” You watched her thoughtfully. “So are you guys vegetarians?” She stared at you blankly. You pressed your lips into a thin line and reconsidered your words, “Do you not eat any meat?”

Understanding crossed her features as she nodded, “We do. Just not them.”

You nodded, crossing your legs together on the branch you were sitting on as you thought about this. After another pause, you took out your tablet from your bag to take down some notes—only for Neytiri to smack your arm and scowl, “No. None of that! We move.”

“Alright, alright.” You sighed, placing your tablet back into your bag. “But if I slip again, just let me fall. I deserve it for being so unathletic.”

Neytiri rolled her eyes and pushed forward. Reluctantly, you followed her.

At some point, you stopped wearing shoes in your avatar body.

After unlinking for the day, you headed over toward the tank room, only to find a certain Na’vi already there talking to Norm. Both noticed you and stopped whatever conversation they had upon seeing you enter.

“Ah, Reeds!” Norm cleared his throat as you approached Dr. Augustine’s avatar. “We were just finishing up here. We’ll be out of your way soon.”

You shrugged, tucking your tablet under your arm as you studied the controls of the avatar’s tank. “It’s not like you’re not allowed in this room. All I do is make sure the baby is healthy and leave. Doesn’t really take that long.” Eventually, you allowed yourself to acknowledge the Na’vi curtly. “Sully.”

“Dr. Reeds.” Jake nodded back with a tight, awkward smile.

“There haven’t been any big updates if that’s what you’re here for.” You said while staring at the avatar. It twitched every now and then as usual.

“We were just catching up.” Norm explained with a faint smile sent your way. “How’s the garden holding up?”

You shrugged, keeping your focus glued to your work, “Everything’s growing just fine. In a few weeks, we might be ready for harvesting. It’s actually fascinating how fast everything’s growing.” If you were in your avatar body, your tail would be wiggling from side to side at this revelation despite your monotone voice. “Neytiri’s been a big help too—the Na’vi way is a lot more effective compared to human techniques and efficiency. I’m actually starting to wonder what else I could learn from her…”’

It wasn’t intentional, but you were really beginning to become intrigued by the Na’vi and their culture. If you were going to be on Pandora—for what seemed like a long time—then you’d have to get accustomed to their ways at some point. Especially, when you didn’t have any particular interest in causing problems with them by doing everything wrong and very human-like. Attempting to do it their way was the only way to go and the easiest path so far.

Norm was grinning at you and you frowned, “What?”

“Nothing. I’ll leave you to it.” He then turned to Jake. “You stayin’ longer?”

Right, you had forgotten about him for a second. Briefly, with little interest, you glanced toward Jake who gave a short nod, “Yeah, I’ll stay for a little bit.” He then met your gaze, matching your guarded expression. “If that’s not a problem”

Norm watched the two of you, noticing the tension.

You stiffened. What the hell was this guy’s problem? Did he enjoy fighting with you, what was it? There was nothing stopping him from waiting until you were done so that he could have the room alone. But for some reason, he thought staying with you there was a good idea.

He must’ve been some kind of masochist. Yeah, had to be.

That, or he was keeping a close eye on you. After all, he did say that he didn’t trust you. Wouldn’t be a totally impossible thought.

So instead, you answered his question with one of your own, “Is it a problem for you?”

His tail swished behind him, “No. Not at all.”

He watched you. And you watched him.

You sniffed and returned your focus back on the avatar, “S’like I said. I won’t be long.”

Cautiously, Norm spoke, “I’ll leave the both of you to it then, yeah?” He walked passed to you, not before mumbling, “Play nice,” and he departed, leaving just you and Jake in the tank room.

The room was deathly quiet as you worked. You figured since Jake was going to be here watching over your every move, you’d ignore him and just do the work. Quick enough for you to leave and be out of his presence. That was all that mattered at the moment.

There was just nothing more to talk about with him. Besides the fetus, you couldn’t fathom what else there was to be discussed.

So far, you were actually doing a good job pretending he wasn’t there. Sure, he was a ten-foot-tall alien that practically towered over you and made you freeze every time something in the corner of your eye moved—it was him every time—the work in front of you was distracting enough. And so was observing the mysteriously pregnant and obviously brain-dead avatar.

It was weird, no, fascinating. How an avatar would end up pregnant without the user actively using it was beyond you. It was like one of those unsolved patient stories or records back on Earth. Only this time you didn’t have to worry much about necrophilia. At least you hoped you didn’t. You put that in your notes.

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

Despite your stubbornness, you froze. Unsure if what you heard was real or perhaps that you imagined it. A part of you hoped you imagined it. A part of you hoped that you had just gone crazy. Yes, that should’ve explained it. Some childish part of you just wanted someone to pity you for once. To say these words to you. And so you imagined them to cope. You imagined someone would for once see you passed the Dr. Reeds. Human. Demon.

It was only your imagination—

“And I’m sorry for how I acted before.” Jake continued on the other side of the tank. Your grip on your tablet tightened as you listened to him. He paused for a long moment as if carefully considering his words. “You’re in a difficult position and I didn’t make it easy on you. That’s on me.”

So much for ignoring him.

You forced yourself to look up at him, a frown on your lips, “What do you hope to gain from this? Why apologize now?”

He winced but didn’t back down. His resolve was much more brazen unlike yours which was still barely hanging on by a thread. Unlike you, he wasn’t exhausted keeping it up all the time. “A truce. Especially, since I will be visiting often.”

Now you were more annoyed than confused, “Why do you need to keep visiting? I already said there haven’t been any updates. Plus, Norm would be telling you whether or not you’re needed here—”

Jake shrugged, ears twitching, “Well if I’m hoping to be her father, I gotta see her progress for myself, don’t I?”

You stopped and watched him both warily and—maybe intrigued by this new piece of information. It wasn’t shocking, really. You kind of figured he would end up taking responsibility for this child. And you had no doubt Neytiri and—possibly Tsu’tey agreed to this considering how much all three of them seemed to care for Dr. Augustine. It wasn’t at all surprising that they decided to raise the child as if it were their own.

“And you’re willing to endure interactions with me for this child?” You chuckled humorlessly. “How brave of you.”

But Jake shook his head, “No, it’s not just about the baby. We have to work together on this. All this hostility—it has to end right here right now. We don’t have to like each other—but I will admit I wasn’t fair to you and I let the situation—your whole arrival get to me. A rookie mistake on my part. I thought—I was protecting my clan.”

For a moment you really considered him. Considered his words. Considered all of him. All of what you knew of Jake Sully so far.

And then you remember Norm’s words to you all those nights ago. When you were going to meet the Tsahik. You remember him saying that they were scared when you had arrived and you remembered understanding that. In the midst of your anger, you understood why they acted the way they did. Still to this day, a part of you knew they were justified in their hatred for the Sky People. Hell, you faced DeVoe and developed a certain dislike toward those people as well.

But it was still your anger. You would not take the blame for something that was out of your control. Something you had no part in. You would not apologize for being put in unfortunate circumstances.

Surprisingly, Jake seemed to read your mind as he said, “I’m not asking anything from you in return. Just a truce and an apology. You deserve that, at least.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, clutching your tablet close to your chest, avoiding his gaze, his expectant look that waited for you to respond. Right now you really wished you were in your avatar body because you hated him looking down at you. You hated being small around him.

But your steeled spine made up for it at least. “We don’t have to like each other.”

Jake nodded, “We don’t.”

You sniffed, “Good. Because I don’t particularly like you still.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, massaging his face. “Sometimes I don’t either.”

Neytiri didn’t come the next day. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Some days she just didn’t come. She had a baby and a clan to worry about after all. You couldn’t exactly expect her to put all of that on hold for you and your little garden.

Plus, there wasn’t much to check in the garden anyway today. All you had to do was water it and make sure the sun was shining on the correct plants. So, you spent most of your time foraging in the forest—making less noise like Neytiri showed you—gathering new fruits and mushrooms to plant once your other ones were finished growing. Of course, you’ll already have the seeds from the newly grown plants but it was nice to have a few extras just in case.

When you finished your foraging and stored all the fruits and mushrooms in a safe place, you unlinked from your avatar and went to the tank room. Technically, you weren’t really required to check it every day once you got a better understanding of the tank. It was specifically created to hold a growing avatar, sure, but you didn’t know if that stretched to a pregnant avatar or not. So checking on it every day was an extra precaution.

You weren’t exactly well informed about how the whole avatar creation or technology worked. All you knew was the information that was given to you through your mother’s diary videos. Even then she really didn’t go into too much detail about it as she kept jumping from one point to another with haste and excitement.

So, during your visits to the tank room, you took notes. By now you are almost halfway through your journal the more you write. And it wasn’t even organized, just a bunch of random notes and thoughts on a piece of paper. With writing that looked like chicken scratch.

When you had nothing more to write or look at on the tablet, you examined what would be Dr. Augustine’s face on the avatar.

Norm came in at some point and you asked him, “What was she like? Dr. Augustine.”

He’d smile fondly at the avatar, his eyes glazed over in memory, “A brilliant woman who cared a lot for the Na’vi. You know she had a school? It’s what made her fall in love with it all. The children loved her.”

You raised your brows curiously when he said that, “You mention you’re around children for most of your day. Are you running her school now or something?”

“No.” He laughed as if the thought were impossible. “No, I just help out with the Omatikaya children whenever I can. Sure, I do teach them English but not on the level Grace did it. Not even close.” His eyes twinkled when he looked at you. “I think she would’ve liked you.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Instead, you offered, “Don’t sell yourself short, Spellman.”

“Same to you, Reeds.”

A few days went by and it was time to harvest your garden.

Neytiri came with Neteyam strapped to her chest. He was wide awake, staring around wide-eyed and curious as usual. Your chest felt just a bit lighter watching him, his innocence so very infectious. You had never been around many babies—no younger siblings and all. It was always you and your mother. And many other scientists. Come to think of it, you weren’t really surrounded by many children your age. If any at all.

You filled the second basket up with more fruits from your garden before glancing toward Neytiri who was picking the mushrooms and collecting them in her arms.

“How are they?” You called.

Neytiri looked back at you and nodded, “Very healthy. Enough to feed an entire village.”

You walked over to her and hummed, tail swinging slightly. “You think it’s too much?”

She shook her head and smiled contently, “No, you did really well with them. Do you plan to make more once you’ve harvested?”

“That’s the hope.” You nodded, crossing your arms. Neteyam’s large yellow eyes looked at you quietly as you moved around her to get a better look at the mushrooms. “Maybe I’ll dial it back with the next one. Technically, I didn’t plant these, all we did was save it from dying. Imagine if we let them die, all of this. What a waste it would’ve been.”

“I’ll help whenever you do,” Neytiri assured, which surprised you. She then grabbed your wrist. “Come. We should put this all away. We’ll travel through the trees again today.”

Intrigued by this, you nodded. After you brought all the freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and mushrooms to the scientists to put away, you followed Neytiri into the forest.

It was the same as last time. Both you and Neytiri quietly moved through the trees—it was a struggle still to climb again but thankfully Neytiri didn’t notice. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. Just correct your body whenever you are doing something wrong. Whenever she did correct you though, it made the climb a little easier as you went.

You ran into one of those viperwolves but were able to get past them without any problems—again, thanks to Neytiri. But you did eventually end up running into a couple more creatures that seemed to be less dangerous.

One of them being those horse-like creatures.

“Pa’li,” Neytiri had called these creatures while petting one of them.

You watched them in awe and interest as she mounted it. She took her braid—queue—and placed it near the pa’li’s antenna. Your eyes widened when the tendrils between the queue and the antenna connected. Once it did, the creature calmed underneath Neytiri. Becoming familiar with her, as if they had known each other for a while. And maybe they did.

Neytiri smiled down at it, “We bond with them just as we bond with the rest of the life here. It is our way.”

A few other pa’li galloped toward you. One nudged past you but was quite skittish about it. At first, you didn’t approach it right away. Instead, you tried to remember how Neytiri did it. Slow in approach, which actually worked. The pa’li watched you, both warily and intrigued.

When you were close enough, you grabbed your queue and placed it near the antenna. Awed, you watched the tendrils slowly connect. A sudden unfamiliar feeling hit your body when your queue connected with the pa’li. The sensations were strange but you felt another emotion that wasn’t your own. The pa’li.

Scared but curious about you. Hesitant to get near you but also feeling the bond beginning through your queue. It was all so strange and unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

A sudden shudder hit your spine just as the pa’li screeched and ran off, breaking the connection.

You grunted while Neytiri laughed, “Maybe next time, tanhi.”

There was a small pout on your lips, a quiet part of you missing the strange and new connection, “Guess I’m just not an animal person.”

“You will try again soon.” She assured as she slid off her pa’li with Neteyam babbling against her chest. “But it will not be today. I must leave for a hunt soon. Another day, perhaps, I will teach you.”

You were surprised at this, “Really? Teaching a Sky Person, huh? Does that mess with you morally or…?”

Neytiri frowned, “Teaching you will help you survive. Not me.” She patted the snout of the pa’li before watching it gallop away with his group. “It is not the first time I have taught a Sky Person our way.”

It took you a moment to realize what she meant, “You taught Sully, didn’t you?”

She did not answer this of course, but you had a feeling you already knew it without her having to say it. “Do you want to learn or not?”

Your tail swished, Neytiri noticed. “I’d like that. Besides, you’re a pretty good teacher as far as I can tell. I don’t think I’d want anyone else.” There was probably no one else who would even offer to teach you like Neytiri did. So, this was the kind of offer you couldn’t refuse.

Neytiri nodded, the beginnings of a smile reaching her lips. For a moment you admired her smile.

And then the next you envied it.

Jake was in the tank room on another day. You entered as usual in human form. A week had passed since your agreed-upon ‘truce’ and you were slowly growing accustomed to his presence the best way you could. Most days, he wasn’t always there. Those were the days when you were relieved and felt like you could relax a bit.

But on the days he was there, you took to ignoring him like you originally planned. And thankfully, he didn’t seem bothered by that. Sometimes he’d ask questions here and there about the fetus, but other than that, the two of you were in your own little worlds.

And you were fine with this. Perhaps Jake had the right idea about this little truce. It certainly made things easier. You were still tense around him of course—mostly because you felt like he was watching you whenever he thought you weren’t looking—but it was manageable.

Upon observing the avatar, you noticed the belly bump becoming just a little more visible as time went by—which wasn’t much time at all. You began to wonder about the differences between Na’vi pregnancy to human pregnancy.

Currently, you are going through past video logs of Grace Augustine to get some idea of how her avatar came to be pregnant.

Once more you were reminded that you weren’t alone as Jake spoke from the other side of the room, “Any theories?”

You glanced over your shoulder to see that he was watching you work with an intense look—or maybe his face was naturally like that.

A beat went by before you considered responding to his question, “Besides divine intervention? No, not really.” You turned back to the logs and made a face when Norm started showing up more in her videos. You turned back to Jake who was still watching you, “Norm and Grace didn’t—”

“No, no, they didn’t.” Jake quickly said, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt asking. “God, at least I hope they didn’t—I wasn’t always around them when linked up—he was always with Trudy actually—you know what, I rather not think about it.”

You hummed, “It was worth a shot asking.” After shutting and placing your tablet down on the table you sat at, you sunk further into your chair as you began mumbling to yourself. “Looks like I might as well have to stick with your Eywa impregnating her. Virgin Mary and all.”

“Right.”

Another silence settled between you two. You wrote down in your notes while absentmindedly listening to Jake’s quiet breaths further behind you, too acutely aware of his presence.

“About what I said about not trusting you…” Jake started and you refrained from rolling your eyes at the interruption of your note-taking and thoughts. “I’m not here to monitor you or anything and I didn’t mean—”

“Sure you did.” You say simply, glancing back at him with an impassive expression. “No point in going back on it now.”

“I was reckless with my words—”

“Reckless words have some truth to them.” You shrugged and turned back to your notes. “If it helps, I don’t trust you either, Sully.”

“Neytiri does.” That made you pause. That made you look back at him in both defense and confusion, trying to figure out just what he was trying to get at here. Jake wore a look of contemplation as if he were trying to figure something out himself, “She was the first one to agree to you watching over Grace’s kid. She fought Tsu’tey on it when usually she’d be on his side whenever it came to humans. That means something to me.”

You considered his words. Truth be told, you didn’t know why Neytiri agreed to it. Frankly, it was going to happen either way—but having Neytiri unexpectedtly on board with the plan wasn’t something any of you saw coming. You still didn’t necessarily know how to feel about that yet.

But it seemed Jake did.

Instead of addressing it, you clicked your pen close, “I’ll send updates through Norm if anything changes. Maybe through Neytiri too whenever she makes her rounds over here.”

After a pause, Jake nodded, “Copy that.” Surprisingly—and quite relieving—he began to take his leave. Which meant that the conversation was now done, thankfully. Before he left the room, he turned back to you with a twitch of his tail, “And thank you, Doc.”

 “Just doing my job, Sully.” You shrugged, closing your notebook. “It’s about time, right?”

It meant something. It had to. Even if he wasn’t sure if he believed in all this Eywa stuff, he believed in Neytiri. He respected Mo’at.

They saw something in you that he clearly could not see just yet. Perhaps it was now time he had to open his eyes.

Perhaps it was time for Jake to finally see.

hiii! wow, sorry about the wait! my schedule got so crazy the past couple of weeks, i barely had a moment to actually sit down and write this. but finally, here is chapter five!

i know a lot of you were worried i dropped this but don't worry, i'm still here! just barely surviving life lol.

anyways, looks like jake and reeds are finding each other at least tolerable now...

(i'm not adding anymore people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @squirtlebob @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird

[tabswrites]

ToL Rewrite Excerpt (Ch. 4)

I love this scene too much not to share it, so I’m going to combine some tags: @lychhiker-writes here and @ahordeofwasps here.

This interrogation scene takes place in Ch. 4 (formerly Ch. 2) of ToL, after Oliver has been arrested for treason. It was originally meant to be kind of whumpy but this dialogue really swept me away.

WC: 752 (feel no need to read the entire thing)

CW: Very mild violence.

Captain Hollowar stepped forward, revealing his scabbard being cradled by her wiry arms. 

“You foolish boy,” she spat. “So spoiled.” The hilt of his sword glistened beneath the dim light. She rested the scabbard on the floor and leaned against it as she glowered at him. “I put this sword in your hands. I trained you to wield it. That uniform you wear–I put you in it. I made you.”

Her hand reached for the edge of his cape and pulled it hard, until the silk ties were tight against his throat. She let the scabbard fall and loosened the cape. It fell to the ground, and she turned her attention to his armor. “All you ever had to do was obey me!”

With each shrill word, she tore more from him until he was stripped of protection and left shivering. The armor lay at his feet, taunting him. Her eyes twitched as he raised his head.

“Come off it, Moire. Whose name do we all swear fealty to–yours, or mine?”

She chuckled through a mask of cool indifference. “A rather shrewd observation, coming from you. And…” She let the word dangle from her lips, drawing him in. “You have identified the poison that has been rotting this city’s roots for decades.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall to his chest, hoping she would cease her rambling.

“Legacy,” she continued. “And never the ones that deserve to be eternal.”

His eyes opened. “Are you testing me?”

She strode forward and gripped his chin. Her nails, cracked and brittle, dug into him with their uneven edges.

“Did you let the exile back into our city?” 

“No.”

“Did you give her access to the archives?”

“No.”

Her nails dug in deeper. “What caused you to commit treason? What use do you have for forbidden knowledge?” The stoic expression on her face did not change–only her voice betrayed her rage. 

He raised a brow as he met her beady gaze. “Ennui, mead, morbid curiosity–you tell me.”

She had indulged his blitheness once, but no more. A fist rammed into his stomach, and as his lungs gasped for their stolen air, she looked deep into his eyes. She waited patiently for him to find his words.

“I wanted to know what I was expected to kill for.”

Her upper lip curled. “You know what you have been told. The elders-”

“Those old bastards didn’t decide a thing,” he snorted. “They’re forcing the same tired ideas down our throats because they can’t figure out how to move forward. They’re pathetic.” It amused him to watch spots of his saliva settle on her face.

She let her nails slice a jagged line along his cheek before dropping her hand. Her boots scuffed the dirt floor as she turned on her heel. 

“Words you say with such passion, as if they are your own. We both know who said them first.” Her hands came together behind her back and she spun to face him again. “Was it all an act, then? Miss Wilkes, safely exiled to the villages to gather allies while you rotted our city from within?”

He tilted his head to the side and considered the thought. “Honestly, no. That would have been a brilliant strategy, though. Wish I had thought of it.”

“Do you know what it is you risk with your arrogance, boy?” She shook her head. “Of course not. I am the first to teach you of consequence, and like everyone else in your sorry life, I was far too lenient.”

“Then do what I couldn’t three years ago,” he suggested. “Let me bleed.”

At last, he seemed to have stunned her into silence. She turned to watch the lantern for a moment, as if the answers were at the center of its orange flame. He watched her instead, fascinated by the way the shadows settled around her sharp features. The pain in his wrists cried for acknowledgement, and his thoughts turned inward, to Mara. Were the words of a dead man enough to comfort her, or was she in her own cell, weeping? The journals that he had pored through, desperate for insight into her labyrinthian mind, were filled with nonsense. Notions of colorful trees, talking creatures–madness, and it drove him mad too, as he wondered why Mara could trust that but not him.

“Tell me,” Hollowar whispered, breaking the silence. “Was she worth it?”

“She would have been,” he replied with a sour grin. “If you let her live.”

Tagging: @winterandwords @revenantlore @theprissythumbelina @oh-no-another-idea @acertainmoshke @sarahlizziewrites if any of want to share any snippets/excerpts.

ToL tag list: @outpost51 @writernopal @avrablake @writingrosesonneptune @theroseempress (please ask to be +/-)

[explodingchantry]

There is something I've been thinking about that I want to mention in The Anders Essay, as I've been calling it - about how da2 specifically doesn't give you as much say in your companions' fate as you usually tend to expect.

Whilst Dao lets you make one of your companions king, or impregnate another, and whilst inquisition lets you turn either a companion or an advisor into the fucking pope, or decide whether or not a companion kills their entire company or gets exiled from their country.... Da2 doesn't give you quite as much of a choice.

You don't even get to truly choose your sibling's fate. It's only a choice if you know in advance what happens if you take them to the deep roads or not. What happens to them is a consequence of your actions, sure, but it isn't necessarily a "choice" in the way you would expect.

No matter what you do, Merrill will work on that eluvian using blood magic. Your decisions will only change how she feels about you and what happens with her clan. No matter what you do, Aveline will become captain of the guard. I'll admit I've never purposefully tried to ruin her thing with Donnic but I would be surprised if you can genuinely get them to not end up together.

The elephant in the room is that you can choose to give Fenris back to Danarius and you can choose to give Isabela to the Qunari. And I think it's.... Interesting.... How the two companions of color are the two that you can... Basically sell off......

But... Trying to... Ignore... That... As much as one can ignore the uh, very... Let's say misguided writing choices here - it's INTERESTING. like it is an overt decision to take this control away from you. And in my opinion, it's mostly a good thing.

Da2 faces a lot of backlash for restricting your agency and not really giving you a choice in the role you play. You can customize your Hawke but you will always remain a human with two siblings and a dead mage dad. Your mom will always die. Etc. And of course it does kind of suck, but it also really reinforces how personal da2 feels in a way. I don't know. That part is definitely biased on my part because I love da2 so much and love Hawke to bits lol

But either way - not giving you as much control over your entourage's fate does feel like a deliberate choice since it's much different from what you can do in the games that came both before and after da2. And honestly, it makes sense? I don't know, I'm always left feeling a bit strange when I realise how much control I have over characters whom I'm not playing in choice based rpgs like this. In truth it's basic ludonarrative dissonance: a way that the medium of video games actually hurts the realism and sometimes impact of a story. But da2 takes a very deliberate step in taking away your control in a way that works both to disempower you the way hawke would feel disempowered, but also to make your companions and the rest of the characters feel like their own people.

I'm thinking of it ofc because: no matter what you do, Anders will blow up that Chantry. And as much as I criticize bioware for a lot of their writing esp around Anders, I really, REALLY appreciate this. It was something he believed in, something he decided to do. And he did it because it made sense for his character, without any chance for you to talk him down from it because it's a choice HE made independently of you, because he's his own person and because his convictions are that strong. Da2 would be a worse game if you could talk Anders out of blowing up the chantry both because it would obviously remove its final act but also because it would immediately flatten and rob Anders' character and his agency.

And I think this also ties into why people do feel as betrayed as they do when Anders does it - we're used to having more control over our companion characters in choice based rpgs. If you were playing Bg3 and Astarion decided to ascend no matter what you did or said before, you would feel betrayed. Perhaps less if he always made his intentions clear AND never gave you the opportunity to talk him out of it. But still, you would feel betrayed BECAUSE you weren't given a choice. Because you're so used to having a choice.

I think in analysis of dragon age 2, more time should be given to this very specific decision bioware made, to take away your agency over characters who aren't yours (and obvs also the one who Is, supposedly, yours). I think it's a fascinating choice.

[bloody-wonder]

starting new series

in order to balance my reading i like to track the progress i'm making with old series vs how many new series i'm starting. my loose goal is usually to finish/catch up on at least five and start at least ten new series in a year - which turns out isn't as difficult as it sounds bc we're not even halfway through the year yet and i already hit the latter mark! here's an overview of what i read and my opinions :)

series that were so good i immediately read all the books available:

doctrine of labyrinths by sarah monette (book one: mélusine). okay so this was life-changing. not sarah monette inventing dark aroace romantasy in 2005! they hated her for her slay so much she had to start writing cozy fantasy under a pen name! this story is so weird and unique i honestly have no idea how to pitch it except to say that fans of books like the locked tomb, mdzs and captive prince will very likely enjoy it too. the fact that it's not a depraved booklr cult classic by now is a travesty. but we can still make it happen so if you fall into this particular reader category (and wouldn't be put off by the fact that someone may or may not want to fuck his brother a little bit) please do yourself a favor and read this series! check the trigger warnings first tho

the cemeteries of amalo by katherine addison (book one: the witness for the dead). i liked the goblin emperor, didn't love it, but after binging doctrine of labyrinths in less than a week i sorely needed a cure for my book hangover so i decided to pick up this spinoff series and wouldn't you know it - i binged it too lol. ig february was my monette/addison era. amalo felt like course correction after the goblin emperor and, while it's set in the same world and written in the same tone as that book, many of its aspects reminded me more of doctrine of labyrinths which is probably why i ended up liking it more - and was surprised by that too since i typically don't like this slow meditative writing style in fantasy but ig sarah monette just brings a certain je ne sais quoi to her books (emotional whump). the third book is coming out next march and i'm very excited to see what the saddest gay priest detective will do next👀

the stolen heir duology by holly black. to be completely honest i don't think these books are necessary. ig it was cool to return to elfhame several years post tfota and see some of my favorite ya fantasy characters from outsider pov but i found the main couple quite bland, especially in the second book where they are predictably overshadowed by jude & cardan in every respect. jude & cardan are simply The Power Couple, i love them and i appreciated the opportunity to revisit them in their 20s. madoc, everyone's favorite worst dad, has some nice scenes too but apart from that this installment was neither adventurous nor action-packed nor particularly romantic. it's clear now that holly black plans to continue writing in the elfhame universe and i sincerely hope she will try to shake things up by going full adult and/or changing the genre (i have this galaxybrain idea of a wwdits style mockumentary about madoc's exile in the human world which i'm trying to telepathically plant in holly black's brain as we speak)

evander mills by lev a. c. rosen (book one: lavender house). lavender house was the first book i read this year - i picked it up on a whim, honestly not expecting much, but ended up liking it a lot. in many respects it's a pretty basic closed circle murder mystery but with an all queer cast, whereas the second book has our gay detective investigating blackmail. the fact that the story takes place in the (homophobic) 50s and the queer victims are not protected by the law whatsoever adds an interesting spin to the whole idea of seeking and serving justice. i never thought i'm a serialized detective story type of person but ig if you make it queer enough i'll read anything lol so now i'm eagerly awaiting the next andy mills mystery which will come out in fall.

series i'm maybe going to continue reading later:

aubrey & maturin by patrick o'brian (book one: master and commander). seeing all the old man yaoi on a boat memes on tumblr rapidly propelled this series to the top of my tbr. now i have finally read the first book and,, liked it? lol idk the prose was very good, aubrey & maturin's friendship was sweet and the reading experience was cozy, with funny moments here and there, but overall i wasn't gripped by the plot nor did i particularly connect to the characters. i'm glad i read it but rn i'm not planning to continue this (extremely long) series any time soon. the book did have a delightful nautical atmosphere tho so there's a chance i might return to aubrey & maturin's adventures one day, if the mood strikes

page & sommers by cat sebastian (book one: hither, page). this one i didn't like at all tbh. i think cat sebastian just isn't the author for me and i should quit trying to read her books. however, i am both blessed and plagued by completionism and this series only has two books so i might read the second one this year just to appease my demons lol

series i'm not going to continue:

adam binder by david r. slayton (book one: white trash warlock). someone on tumblr recced this book to me ages ago and i wanted to read it ever since - purely bc of the title tbh😅 something i failed to consider tho is that urban fantasy is probably my least favorite subgenre of fantasy. and this book unfortunately didn't feature any memorable character moments or mind-blowing plot bits that could have broken through my unimpressedness with the urban fantasy setting🤷‍♀️

rook & rose by m. a. carrick (book one: the mask of mirrors). okay now we're entering the Dislike & Disappoint territory. i got interested in this series bc i heard it being compared to gentleman bastard but the similarities end at the renaissance venice setting and a conperson protagonist. the mask of mirrors completely lacks the rizz and swagger of scott lynch's writing and its characters just don't have the oomph of locke lamora and his team. so that was disappointing. on top of that the book is extremely long and convoluted with a worldbuilding that bothered me a lot and i couldn't put my finger on why until i read the themes section on its wiki page - ah yes, the us politics, again, using a foreign setting as a window dressing, again. listen, ik the us politics are important for the us authors to write about but when i pick up a book inspired by the italian renaissance what i want to get is themes and motifs representative of that time and place, even if we modernize them by (honestly lackluster) queernormativity and gender equality. i was mildly curious about the identity of the rook but now that it's been revealed i see no reason to continue this series.

the masquerade by seth dickinson (book one: the traitor baru cormorant). i intended to finish this book last year and leave it there but it was so unbelievably boring it put me into a reading slump for like two whole weeks and i ended up finishing it in january. i noticed that books about colonialism often try so hard to strike this solemn literary tone and say something profound that characters and plot just get bulldozed over by that dedication to conveying this very serious theme. admittedly, baru isn't as bad as that - i'm just biased bc she was pitched to me as a character in the same category as lymond and tyrion lannister so i was disappointed on that account seeing as it was the only reason i decided to give this book a try. i will say the general concept of the story and the plot twist at the end were indeed good but the overall reading experience was so aggressively meh that they just weren't worth it for me and so when the Big Thing happened i was still underwhelmed.

emily wilde by heather fawcett (book one: emily wilde’s encyclopaedia of faeries). i wrote a long ass goodreads review about why i disliked this book so much but let's see if i can be concise for once (ha, as if). i'm a big fan of olivia atwater's books so based on all the buzz around emily wilde i thought i was picking up a similar faerie story. turns out this was more like an "elevated" cozy fantasy version of ali hazelwood's books featuring howl in leather pants (tweed pants?). where atwater uses faerie tale tropes and fae lore to explore classism, neurodivergence and nuanced romantic and platonic connections, fawcett seems to write from a perspective that is decidedly normative. just like emily wilde, half a soul has a heroine who reads as neurodivergent but the narrative is always firmly on her side, whereas the moral in emily wilde seems to be that she has to smile and socialize more or smth. just like emily wilde, a thousand stitches features a faerie as a love interest but in this case he indeed reads like a whimsical magical being, so similar to humans and yet so different at the same time, whereas mr cheap howl knockoff reads like a quirky human man who is an asshole sometimes and can do magic. atwater's books are fairly popular but emily wilde is the book that has mass appeal and ig i shouldn't really be surprised bc when have the stories that question the status quo ever have been more popular than the ones that reinforce it? so i'm not really surprised but i am bitter. this book left a sour taste in my mouth and made me feel really bad about myself which was something i hadn't reckoned with when i picked up this cozy fantasy. tbh i initially was going to masochistically read the sequel out of morbid curiosity but then i remembered that i can read literally anything else instead lol the hater gods spared me just for once😅

2024 reading updates | goodreads

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday: Mistaken Identity

Actually quite long (about 42 pages in my tiny notepad), because it's a full one-shot rather than part of a multi-chapter idea. Although that's not to say I won't add pieces later

The distress beacon had been Sig’s, but the shape lying limply in the dust was most assuredly not Sig. The gathered Wastelanders looked at each other with grim expressions: this felt like a trap.

"Circle around," Damas signed to the driver of the second car, "Check for an ambush. I'll see if it's one of ours."

"Be careful," the woman signed back. A dimple between her brows suggested that under her heavy scarf she was frowning.

"I'm always careful."

Even so, Damas took extra care in approaching the crumpled form, gesturing for Kleiver to follow him in case of attack. He'd assumed that the person -- or corpse, hard to tell at this distance -- would be larger up close. But as he drew near, the figure remained small, and slight. They were dressed like a Havenite from the Slums, wearing stained, threadbare layers of clothing. A filthy scarf and dismally battered goggles half covered matted green hair; they didn't seem to have any more protection from the sun than that. Foolish Havenite.

Two small animals lay beside the stranger, breathing shallowly. Pets? That seemed an unusual step for Haven, letting an exile take anything important to them.

Damas glanced at the stranger, but kept his attention focused on the ground, looking for Sig’s beacon. It didn't take long to find, considering it lay beside the stranger's hand. Damas picked up the beacon and turned it over in his hand. There were no obvious signs of tampering. No blood or scorching or anything else to indicate that the beacon had been taken by force.

"How did you get this?" Damas murmured, not really expecting an answer. Whoever this was, they were barely alive.

"Er...lordship?"

It was not like Kleiver to sound hesitant.

"Do you...know this kid?"

An odd question. Damas looked up with a quizzical expression and found the big Wastelander peering down at the face of the figure. Kid?

The king pivoted on his heels to get a better look at their find.

Sunken cheeks. Dark circles under large eyes. A pitiful patch of stubble that might’ve been a first attempt at a beard on an otherwise startlingly smooth face. Precursors, he was a kid, wasn't he? He could've been anywhere from sixteen to nineteen -- in his state, it was hard to tell.

"Scrawny thing, isn't he?" Damas remarked. He took hold of an iron ring strapped to the boy's chest and tried to shake off a nagging sense of familiarity in the boy's features. "A channeler, maybe? We could use one of those. Honestly, I'm impressed that he's still breathing."

He glanced up. "What makes you think I'd know who the whelp is?"

Kleiver looked back at him with an unusually uncomfortable expression. He gestured awkwardly to the boy's face.

"Well he's...I mean- well look at 'im! 'S just weird, is all."

"What's weird?" Damas scoffed and hoisted the boy up by the iron ring.

The boy's head fell back and for just a moment, something around his neck glittered in the fading sunlight. With a curse, Damas dropped him as if he'd been burned. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled back a step, swearing under his breath.

"What fresh hell is this?" he demanded.

That was where Phobos found him after completing her perimeter check: staring in horror down at a much younger version of his own face.

Phobos crossed the space between their vehicles to touch his shoulder.

"Damas?"

"I...who is this?"

"Damas." Phobos shook him gently. "Hey. Hey. Are you just going to leave him lying there?"

The king blinked and inhaled sharply as he seemed to come to. "Right," he muttered, "...right. Pho, take my staff."

"What? Oop-!" Phobos hastily grabbed at the staff Damas all but dropped. "What the-!"

In a daze, Damas knelt and slipped an arm under the boy’s shoulders.

"Gods. He really is scrawny."

He shook his head and hoisted the boy up.

"Kleiver, get the car started. And someone grab those animals!"

Phobos's eyes flicked from Damas to the half-dead castaway, and narrowed.

"Damas...who is that?"

Her husband turned to face her, a disturbed shock stamped clearly on his face.

"I don't know," he said grimly, "but he's wearing a Maridius amulet."

■■■■■■■■■■

The Rift Rider idled, ready to take Samos and the child back in time. Ready to begin the cycle of pain all over again. Jak bit his lip and folded his younger self's fingers back over the proffered amulet.

"No, buddy, you keep it," he said gently. "Try...try to remember something about your family this time. Maybe remember me."

The tiny boy pouted, then threw his arms around Jak’s neck. "Za?" He whispered in Jak’s ear, the closest he'd ever come to saying his name.

Jak closed his eyes and hugged the kid tightly. Precursors knew he wouldn't get a lot of hugs in Sandover. "No, buddy. Za can't go with you this time. You have to be really brave for me, okay? There's...there's a kid on the other side of that gate who really really needs a friend. Can you look out for him for me?"

Sniffling, the little boy let go and nodded. "Brave like you," he signed. Then, rubbing his eyes, he sat back down in the craft.

Jak took a slow breath, then looked to the younger Samos. Doubtless this version of the sage was going to withhold just as much information as the older one. Jak didn't trust him to warn Mar about Errol. And he'd be blasted if he let that swine get his hands on the amulet in any timeline.

"You know, I didn't have the amulet when I got back to the present," he said casually. "I think you locked it up for safekeeping right before we fixed the Rift Gate, but I never saw where in the house you put it."

Samos took the bait too easily. "Oof! Yes, I suppose it would be bad for the kid to meet the Baron with that thing on. Thanks for the heads-up."

All too soon, they were gone. And not long after, so was Jak, headed for Dead Town. It had been a selfish ploy, a bid to give himself some semblance of a connection to his past. He couldn't remember having the amulet yet -- but he'd had trouble remembering a lot of his early years ever since the experiments began. "Traumatic amnesia", Daxter called it.

But if the amulet was there, if his ploy had worked, then maybe he'd get something back.

It took him an hour to sift through all the debris in the old hut, even with Daxter's help. The ravages of time hadn't left many places for treasure to remain undiscovered in. But just when Jak was beginning to fear that someone had found it decades before, his hand brushed over a brick in the old planter circles that lacked the same grout as the others.

Leave it to Samos to hide such an important artifact under a giant, vicious, carnivorous plant. Had he fed it to the thing?! The amulet was down where the roots had once been!

Still, Jak could admit to a sense of relief that washed over him once the amulet was in his hand. Clearly he'd changed the past at least enough to have an emotional connection to the pendant. He tucked it into his tunic, resolving to put it on a chain the first chance he got. He wasn't going to let anyone take it from him again.

■■■■■■■■■■

The last thing Jak remembered was collapsing beside a boulder, desperately trying to stay conscious only to fail seconds later. He could hear a voice -- not Daxter or Pecker -- nearby, and as he focused on that, other sensations began to filter in.

Softness beneath him.

The smell of eco med-gel.

An itch in the crook of his elbow.

A sticky dryness in his mouth, like cotton.

And something off about his skin. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his skin felt different somehow. Cleaner? No, that didn't make any sense. Why would it be clean?

It took a monumental effort to open his eyes, and he regretted it immediately. Light stabbed into his retinas pitilessly, and Jak let out an involuntary grunt of discomfort. In response, a shadow fell over his face, shielding him from the unforgiving glare. First a blur, then a shape, a face slowly swam into focus.

"Ah, you're back with us! Thank the Precursors, that was a close one, eh?"

Jak blinked up in confusion as his brain slowly processed the presence of one of the most beautiful women he could ever remember seeing. Not that he could remember seeing that many women in his life. Her skintone was so deep that the light framing her glanced off her cheekbones in little flashes of garnet and amethyst. Coils of hair spread out behind her head in an artful halo, providing most of the blessed shade across Jak's face. He squinted up at her for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was hallucinating in the desert.

"....'m I dead?" Jak croaked, then winced at the dry soreness in his throat.

The angelic stranger laughed in surprise. "Dead? No, quite the opposite, kid. Although you got pretty close."

"Where am I?" Jak tried to sit up, and something tugged at his elbow.

Instantly, he froze. He knew the shape of a needle.

Bile crawled up his throat, and his heart thundered in his ears as he forced himself to turn his head and look.

A bag of clear fluid hung from a stand beside a cot he'd been laid on. Descending from the bag, a long tube fed the fluid through a needle secured to his arm with bandages. A high whine escaped him, and the room seemed to spin.

"Whoa whoa whoa- kid, kiddo, look at me."

The mysterious woman suddenly took his face in her hands -- rough hands. A warrior's hands.

"Ssshh, hey, you're okay. You're okay, chico. It's just saline, that's all."

"W- what-?"

"Saline. It's a...kinda like a saltwater solution you give to people suffering dehydration."

One of the calloused hands cupped the back of his head, rubbing a thumb comfortingly over stubble.

Stubble?

Jak's breathing quickened and the room spun faster.

"What-!" he gasped, and his breaths began to squeak. "What did you do to me?!"

"Hey now, breathe. Breathe." The woman began to sway back and forth where she sat, dragging him along with the rocking motion.

"Inhale with me, yeah? In and out, in and out. I've got you."

"M- my h- my h- hair-!" Jak squeaked.

The woman clicked her tongue. "Oh, ohhh, you can feel that, huh? Yeah, you were overheated. The mats in your hair were just doing damage to you, longterm. The doctors didn't have any time to waste, so they shaved it out to cool you off."

She continued to cradle his face with her other hand, offering him a full, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get your okay, chico. But...I mean, you wouldn't wake up! Not even your orange friend could get a response. He gave us the go-ahead."

For the first time since waking, Jak felt something like relief. "D- Daxter?"

"Mm. The mouthy one? Yes."

"Where-?"

The woman pulled back and turned away for a moment. Jak wondered why he felt minutely disappointed by that. He wasn't that touch-starved, was he? When she turned back, she held a cup and pitcher in her hands. The sight of the water trickling from one container to the other made Jak's throat ache all the fiercer.

"Here. Slow sips now, little bird. Don't make yourself sick like your friend did." The woman settled back into her seat at the edge of the cot. She made a vague gesture with the hand not holding the pitcher.

"At least he made a quick recovery. My husband took him back up to our place. When you're cleared by the doctors, we'll take you to him."

Jak gulped down the water, ignoring his visitor's protests. It was cool, although not cold, but even that was like heaven on his irritated throat. Droplets leaked from the corner of his mouth, and the IV tugged painfully as he reached up to catch them. He didn't think he could afford to waste even one drop.

"Hey hey!" The woman reached for the cup, and Jak jerked back out of reach.

"Not so fast, chico, you'll make yourself sick!"

Jak growled softly behind the rim of the cup and hitched up his shoulders. If this lady wanted to take the water away, she'd be in for a fight.

"Whoa!" The woman raised her brows. "Calm down. The water isn't going anywhere, I promise."

"I don't know you," Jak retorted, "How do I know you keep promises?"

Now the woman began to look a little annoyed.

"Fair enough," she begrudgingly allowed. "Considering the state we found you in, am I to assume that if I take that cup you'll bite me or something?"

"I might," answered Jak coolly.

Something bittersweet passed over the woman's face and lingered there at the corners of her mouth as she forced a smile.

"Well that wouldn't be very nice of you, but I can't say it wouldn't fit with every other kid in Spargus."

Jak lowered the cup slowly. "Spargus?" he asked, tilting his head, "What's that?"

"It's home," she answered. "The city of the forgotten and the betrayed -- and the hunter."

Jak raised the cup again and muttered darkly, "Well that's ironically appropriate."

"Let's start over, huh?"

The woman leaned back and carded a hand through her teased-out coils.

"My name is Phobos. I was with the convoy that found you and your friends in the Strider Range."

"...oh."

Jak grimaced. This woman had rescued him, hadn't she?

"I'm, um. I'm Jak."

Embarrassed, he gestured to the cup, the IV, and looked away. "What do I owe you? I don't...I don't have any money."

Phobos shook her head. "It's fine, chico- er, Jak. When people come to Spargus, those who have life debts pay it back by contributing to the overall survival of their new home and neighbors, depending on how old they are when they arrive."

"How old they are?" Jak fiddled with his now empty cup awkwardly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Phobos gave him an amused glance. "Uh...kids are kids? This isn't Haven, hey? We don't even let people take the citizen applicant training course until we know they're eighteen or older."

She scooted closer and held up the pitcher. "Cup."

"Huh? Oh-"

Jak tilted the cup toward her but didn't let go. He watched her refill it and puzzled over the idea of a city in good enough shape that kids didn't have to work. Maybe there weren't metalheads out here.

"So...do you people normally pick up half-dead people and bring them home?"

"As long as they aren't half dead because they tried to kill us, yeah," Phobos said with a careless shrug. "Strength and survival: it's the two things Wastelanders respect the most. So when we find somebody in the badlands who isn't a dried out corpse, we know we've got the makings of a tough little survivor."

Surviving was, by necessity, Jak’s best skill. But considering the kind of jobs he got when people knew that, and how it had turned out last time, Jak decided not to advertise that fact. It already nagged at him that someone had seen his scars, and the bruises from the arrest, and every other injury he'd gained in the name of helping a city that hated him. Spargus wouldn't get the same freebies.

Eventually, Phobos stood up and put the pitcher back on a low counter that extended out of sight behind a curtain. She dusted off her yellow tunic and stretched her back with a soft grunt.

"Alright. I guess somebody ought to tell Damas you're awake and talking," she said, more to herself than to Jak.

Before Jak could ask who Damas was supposed to be, something careful and calculated slipped into Phobos's voice.

"So...just you and the critters, huh? Your parents know where you are?"

Hands tightened into claws around the wooden cup.

"I never had parents," Jak growled.

One more thing to "thank" Haven for, apparently.

"Ah." Phobos's eyes widened in an oddly dismayed expression. "Sorry, I..."

"Why?"

Jak's eyes narrowed at her.

"Literally no one has ever asked if I even had parents before you. You're fishing for something. What do you want?"

Then it hit him: if the woman had seen his scars, she had seen his amulet as well. Was that what she was getting at? Probing to see if any other ill-fated Heirs of Mar existed?

"Uh..." Phobos puffed out her cheeks and blew the air out. "It's...complicated. I'm gonna let Damas take this one."

"Who's Damas?" Jak demanded.

Phobos made another odd grimace and lifted a radio from the countertop.

"Hey, Damas, the kid's awake," she said, ignoring Jak's question.

A raspy voice crackled through the speaker.

"He is? Has he said anything yet?"

"Well, he threatened to bite me," Phobos joked before growing serious. "Take it easy when you come down, he's pretty worked up. Bring the orange guy if you can."

"Understood. Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah," Phobos sighed. "He doesn't know who we are, where we are, or how he got here. I don't think you're going to get any answers out of him."

"......oh."

The guy she called Damas sounded strangely...emotional.

"Er...alright. I'll...I'll see what I can do when I get there."

Jak glowered at Phobos's back. He hated when people talked about him like he wasn't there.

Out of habit, he reached for his collar to run his fingers over his amulet. That always helped him slow down when his thoughts were racing too fast. His fingers brushed against loose linen; the tunic he was wearing were not the one he'd had on the last time he was awake. Jak's stomach felt like it was plummeting from a precipice as he finally looked down at his body. Someone had dressed him in loose, lightweight clothing. There was no sign of his own clothing.

Or his amulet.

Fighting down feelings of violation and revulsion, Jak gripped the thin sheets in hands like claws.

"Where are my clothes?" he snarled, "What did you do?"

Phobos didn't look overly concerned, which only agitated Jak more.

"They're being checked for trackers or other bugs," she said with a shrug. "Haven's been trying to find our city for years. Can't be too careful. Look on the bright side: it's probably the first time they've ever been washed."

She leaned over the cot, and Jak jerked away.

"Don't touch me!"

There wasn't much room to retreat on the small bed, but Jak tried anyway.

"Who stole my amulet?"

"Hey, calm down," Phobos raised a placating hand, but dropped it quickly when Jak flinched. "Nobody stole it."

"Don't lie to me!"

Jak was over the verge of panic now. He was alone, powerless, right back to being poked and prodded like a doll. Like a lab rat.

"What do you want?!"

Grimacing, Phobos stepped back and grabbed her radio again.

"Hey Damas? Hurry it up, will ya?"

"I'm en route."

"Good. Because he just noticed the absence of a Certain Something and he is losing it right now."

"Rot. Okay, just- rot! Try to keep him calm, I'm bringing it, okay?"

The man's voice rose and fell oddly. It almost sounded like he was running.

Phobos ran a hand through her hair and puffed out her cheeks. This was not going as well as they'd hoped. Could've been worse, she acknowledged, but this kid's reactions were giving her a bad feeling. The scars, the reaction to the IV and having been given new clothing without his knowledge, it all painted a pretty grim picture.

"Damas is bringing your amulet down," she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. (How did one talk to agitated teenagers?! Why weren't they as easy to calm as toddlers?) "He'll explain everything, chico, I promise. Just...stay here a minute, okay?"

Jak warily watched the woman walk through the curtain, listening and counting her footsteps. By the sound of it, he was in the back of a narrow building. There was someone else up there, wherever Phobos had gone, but they rustled around opening drawers instead of speaking. If there were guards, Jak couldn't hear them. He hoped there were none. In his current state, he doubted he'd be able to fight them off.

A door slid open with the sound of a chime, and Jak stiffened as a heavier tread entered the building.

"About time!" he heard Phobos greet the person, "He's all yours."

"Allegedly," the voice from the radio answered.

"Mmhm. You're cute when you're in denial. Better get back there before the poor kid has a heart attack."

When the curtains parted, Jak was in the act of climbing off the cot to look for something -- anything -- to defend himself with. He froze, locking eyes with a weathered Wastelander covered in scars and armor. He looked like the kind of guy Sig would run with. Jak stared at the man and wondered if this was the guy who allegedly had his amulet. Were those piercings on his skull?! Despite himself, Jak wondered how the man slept without ripping whatever he used for a pillow.

"Easy, young one," the man murmured, holding out his hands as if approaching a skittish animal. "Easy. You're in no danger."

"Usually when people tell me that, they're lying," Jak retorted. He backed up, silently cursing his shaky legs, until his back touched the wall and the IV tugged painfully at his arm. "Where's Daxter? What do you people want with us?"

The armored man lowered himself to sit on the end of the cot and folded his hands in front of him. "Your friend is perfectly safe," he soothed, "Well, unless he tries to use the water wheel as a carnival ride, I suppose. But he doesn't really seem the type to do that kind of thing."

"You didn't answer my other question," Jak said pointedly. "What do you want?"

"Answers," the man -- Damas, probably -- replied steadily, "Just answers."

"Like what?" Jak edged closer to the IV, trying to relieve the horrific sensation of the needle.

Then his visitor reached into a cloth pouch at his belt and drew out a familiar shape.

"What can you tell me about this?" he asked, holding up the amulet.

Forgetting the needle, Jak lunged for the pendant. Pain lanced through his elbow for an instant, hot and dull, and he pulled up short. He'd learned long ago not to rip needles out. There would just be more if he did.

"Whoa!" Damas dropped the amulet on the sheets and reached out as if to steady Jak. "Slow down, boy, you're going to hurt yourself! You shouldn't even be standing right now!"

Jak, unfortunately, agreed. But he locked his knees and kept his eyes on Phobos's friend, just as he had on Phobos.

"Give it back," he rasped, holding out a demanding hand.

Damas frowned thoughtfully. He picked up the chain and considered it for a few seconds before dropping it into Jak's outstretched hand.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

With time-travel being too unbelievable an explanation even to those closest to Jak, he settled for the most open-ended version of the truth he could manage.

"Ancient ruins," he muttered.

The chain slipped down around his neck, and he visibly relaxed once the familiar weight rested against his collarbone.

Damas made an interested sound and folded his arms. "Ruins, eh? How did you find it?"

Evasively, Jak shrugged. "I just...knew where to look."

"And does this happen to you often? "Knowing" things?"

Hm. He might’ve been a little too open-ended there. Jak braced his back against the wall and begrudgingly clarified.

"I'm not a seer. It's just with eco stuff."

Damas nodded. "Ah! I understand. So what made you decide to keep such an odd little trinket?"

He wasn't being very subtle. Jak could do blunt too.

"It's mine. That's it. And I know what you're trying to do."

A hint of tension lined Damas’s neck and shoulders as he tried to play casual.

"Oh? And what am I trying to do, young one?"

Jak curled his lip at the man. "You're trying to get me to say I'm an Heir of Mar, probably so you can get some of his artifacts. What, do you want the Precursor Stone too? Well you're too late."

Any semblance of relaxation dropped from Damas like a cloak. He straightened, and the air filled with an undercurrent of warning. It was almost like eco -- enough that Jak wondered if the man could channel.

"Explain that, please."

It didn't sound like a request.

"What, exactly, do you know about the Precursor Stone?"

Jak gripped his amulet for calm.

"Not a myth," he said shortly, "Not meant to be used as a weapon, and not a rock."

He lifted his chin and met Damas’s hard eyes.

"I opened it. It can't be used anymore."

"Opened?!" Damas recoiled slightly. "You've touched the Stone?"

Suspicion colored his voice, but strangely he didn't seem to be getting hostile.

"Where did you find it?"

Agitated, Jak snapped, "In a tomb designed by some sadistic obstacle-course lover obsessed with "manhood", guarded by a bunch of loudmouth Oracles. Be glad you missed it."

He wondered if he was just setting himself up for problems later. If the Wastelanders knew he could speak to Oracles and traverse ruins, they'd probably make him pay off the medical care by finding artifacts for them. Story of his life.

But Damas looked shaken by the statement, not shrewd. He seemed almost to pale, and drew a hand over his face to rest over his mouth. His eyes bored into Jak's with an unsettling intensity.

"The amulet truly belongs to you, then," he finally acknowledged, in little more than a croak. His fingers pressed into his jaw hard enough that Jak wondered if the man would have fingerprints there later.

"How...how old are you, boy?"

What did that have to do with anything? Annoyed, Jak shrugged.

"Like I know? Fifteen, sixteen, what's it matter?"

"You don't...you don't know?" Damas looked even more shaken. "No one told you your own birthdate?"

Jak didn't want to talk about this. He finally slumped to sit at the head of the cot and crossed his arms sullenly.

"Y'know what, that's none of your business. Where's Daxter? I'm not saying anything else until I see him."

"I can arrange that."

Damas stood and absentmindedly picked up the wooden cup.

"You should er...try to sleep some. Heat exhaustion will leave you weak for a good several days-"

"Are you Damas?" Jak interrupted suddenly, as Phobos's attempted reassurances came to mind.

Damas turned. "Yes?"

He looked like he almost expected something else to follow.

Jak pulled his knees to his chest and rested folded arms on top of them. "The lady who was in here said you'd explain what you people wanted from me. And why you took my amulet."

The Wastelander looked, Jak thought, rather like he had just swallowed a bee. He made a few awkward hand motions -- some of it almost looked like signs -- and tugged on a tuft of hair at his chin.

"Ah...that is..."

He picked up the pitcher and splashed water into the cup clumsily. He was unsettled.

"The crest of Mar has...connotations. Doubtless you've learned by now, but when people see it they form...expectations."

Damas cleared his throat and handed the cup over to Jak.

"I removed it from you before the monks could see it and develop those expectations. I...wanted you to be able to focus on healing without the distraction of history zealots."

Well, that was marginally better than Jak had been imagining. He didn't exactly trust that the man was telling the truth, but at least he hadn't tried to sell it or something. Jak acknowledged his visitor's words with a curt nod and sipped at the water slowly. Idly, he wondered if his general age fit this city's "too young for serious work" bracket or not. After Haven, he honestly didn't know whether he hoped so or not.

Damas was staring at him. It was subtle, but intense, and Jak could feel his eyes. It made his brain itch, and he felt the urge to squirm uncomfortably.

"Are you in any pain?" Damas asked suddenly, apparently in response to the squirming.

"I don't like being stared at," Jak answered gruffly.

"...ah." Damas cringed and looked away. "Apologies. You just...look very familiar. I was trying to place whether I might have met you or someone you were related to in the past."

"Not unless you were in Haven before Praxis took over," Jak grumbled bitterly, "Or you took a tour of his prison labs in the last two years."

You're talking too much, Jak. Wait for Daxter. Why are you volunteering this information?

Well. He knew. He was scared and disoriented and angry, and he wanted to shock someone. Anyone. It was the dark eco talking.

"The labs?!" Damas dropped the pitcher with a crash. A terrible look flooded his face. "Did...was your whole family there?"

"Rot! Why are you guys so obsessed with information about my parents?" Jak was getting tired of repeating himself. "You know as much as I do! Even the freakin Oracles wouldn't tell me what the amulet meant until I got to the Tomb!"

From the front of the building, the third person finally called out.

"My lord, if you keep getting him worked up, I'm tossing you out. He's supposed to be resting!"

"I'm working on it, Petros!" Damas retorted sharply.

He closed his eyes and made a visible attempt to calm himself before turning back to Jak.

"Sorry. I know this is confusing. I am...having a difficult time finding the right words to ask the right questions." He made a helpless gesture. "Finding you, practically on my doorstep, with that amulet has upended my understanding of the world and my place in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jak demanded.

Damas gingerly took a seat at the end of the cot again and, sighing deeply, reached into his pouch again.

"The last time I was in Haven for an extended period of time was about fifteen years ago, at the end of the last major campaign against the metalheads."

He opened his hand, revealing a second amulet of Mar in his palm.

"After Praxis betrayed me- after the hardships our city has faced over the last few years-"

He shook his head with furrowed brow.

"I- I thought I was the only one left. And now here you are, and I have more questions than answers."

Jak blinked, then blinked again.

"Well," he said in a strangled voice, "That makes two of us."

[cdroloisms]

I like messing around with the characters who have nothinburgers of lore its a fun playground

see c!eret doesn't even have nothingburger lore it's just. sighs. inconsistent. especially with what i'm preeetty sure was creator intent, especially near the end of things.

i can take the lore at face value, right, and tell you that c!eret was a character that got supremely fucked over by a vindictive harassment campaign, canonically at least partially fueled by jealousy (as well as c!wilbur obviously being. triggered as hell over the final control room and the loss of control he felt bc of it) that had very real ramifications in character (and outside of it, honestly). and i can tell you that the consequences on the character made them rewrite history in their own head and then like, literally, where they had to redeem themselves of their single sin that they got tempted into by the devil manipulated by c!Dream into committing, when from the beginning while c!Eret was partially motivated by self-interest she ALSO just thought that the FCR was the best way of returning the server to peace??? and either way ... it was a war like yes i'm sure there are ethical and moral ramifications to being a spy in a war yadayada but a lot of the assumptions that emphasize the FCR as being something ~supremely fucked up~ relies on the idea of L'manburg's side in the Revolution being So Much More Moral than the DreamSMP side, never mind that the FCR existed at a time where physical violence with long-lasting ramifications such as canon lives literally wasn't a thing yet and was explicitly a means of stripping them of their gear. that they returned to them after the war.

and it's just so crazy to me, because the actual FCR which became twisted into c!eret's Single Crime is just nawt that big of a deal at all but did become the major talking point for the campaign to treat her fucking terribly on the account of Being A Traitor Hey New Person Did You Hear That Eret SUCKS Because He Betrayed Us !!! but what does feel like more of an issue include a lot of the later actions, such as the excessive gloating towards L'manburgians in ways that were kind of meanspirited (but were hella funny shoutout to the prank war) and then the...kind of tyrannical actions lol umheyyyy do we remember the taxes. also just the knights of hope were ... well they sure were! (i wish wegot that lowkey yesssssssss go hunt c!dream like an animal please ^_^") mexican lmanburg negotiations cough cough anyway. TURNING LOGSTEDSHIRE INTO A MUSEUM EXHIBIT????????????????????GIVING TOURS THERE???????? HEY LOOK HERES THE POLE WHERE THIS KID WHO IS OUR NEIGHBOR BTW TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF. LIKE WHY. WHY DID THEY DO THAT.

i don't mind any of this, btw--if i were to give a kind of short explanation to c!eret's character i'd say that she tends to have good intentions overall, but drank so much of the lmanburg kool-aid that it became a whole new thing and also in general has a tendency to act in her personal self-interest and have a pretty short-sighted, self-centered view of the world more often than not. they're not evil, and they certainly don't go out of their way to hurt people, but they also push the blame onto c!Dream a lot, including in ways that don't make sense, and does things like the museum exhibits abt exile and the casual taxing of everyone just cuz and expecting all of dream smp to follow them in supporting a coup against the country they're allied with For Their Redemption Quest in ways that suggest that they tend to prioritize themselves and their wants over a more reasonable. consideration of the people around them. also he got SUPER fucked over by c!wilbur and continues to center their story around him because he thinks that he needs to be redeemed through him, and the thing he thinks he needs redemption for he simultaneously blames on someone else and also just wasn't. A Grand Crime For Her To Need Redemption For. she took the lmanburg story said 'what if i was the main character doe' made a new lmanburg koolaid chugged it and tried to make the whole server fall in line. essentially.

the problem is that i don't think that the character was ... meant to be written like this, and therefore there aren't that many satisfying conclusions. also just in general plot points kept getting set up with little follow through. (i'll limit any cc criticisms here, but i will say that the fandom was an obvious driving point in what happened with the character.) the biggest problem for me was the frequent retconning--it's kind of bad practice in general to Take Back rp frequently, tho c!eret is mostly forgiven bc most of the retcons did happen with solo lore (not ... all of them tho)

but yeagh. i appreciate what is there for c!eret dont get me wrong but ... i do wish it was utilized in a slightly different way

[tleeaves]

Thank you @luciehercndale and also @faithfromanewperspective (I am pretty sure you also tagged me and I forgot to make my reply then) for tagging me 🥺 It means the world, honestly, since I don't update a lot nor write too many fics, yet I'm still remembered.

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

(All of the below are in The Last Hours fandom)

Wasting Beats In This Heart Of Mine 136,108 words. Work in progress. This fic is my most ambitious and it is a various x OC story (James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, and Matthew Fairchild). It's my own take on how multiple universes of the same characters work and what would happen if a time loop was created by trying to save someone who is meant to die. Basically, it's the fracturing of reality, the occasional dose of heavy existentialism and derealisation/depersonalisation, fixing of some canon complaints I had, but it all takes place during Chain of Iron. It's a re-write of an earlier and now deleted fanfic of mine called Chain of Lies. Oh, and there's romance. Everything kind of revolves around that, one way or another, even in some rather dangerous ways.

The Rain (It Rains Every Day) 7,912 words. Work in progress. This is a Beauty and the Beast AU but greatly inspired by the myth of Eros/Cupid and Psyche, as well as earlier versions of the Beauty and Beast story (the French version, as well as some others under different titles like East of the Sun, West of the Moon, which is basically Cupid and Psyche in a different font). It's got James Herondale x Cordelia Carstairs, Lucie Herondale x Grace Blackthorn, and Alastair Carstairs x Thomas Lightwood. The setting is 1900, Greece in an alternate universe where a whole bunch of the TLH cast immigrated to the country or live(d) in Bulgaria or Persia.

A Diamond On Your Pillow 1,978 words. Complete work. A crack-ship fic about Christopher Lightwood x Lara Croft because of a silly joke I had with @thevagabondexpress. I still maintain that it is the most genius of my works, even if I did not get around to writing out any of the backstory we talked about. Also, it's the strangest ship in the fandom corner right now and I am proud of that. The moment someone takes my title, I will be publishing a James Herondale x Alastair Carstairs fic and no one can stop me. Not even your mother. Heed my warning because after that it might be Peeta Mellark x Cordelia Carstairs AND I WILL DO IT.

Love, We Did Our Best 3,354 words. Work in progress. A Matthew Fairchild x pregnant OC fic. I came up with the idea after a weird dream I had about IVF, but anyway. It takes place in France (past) and Tortuga (current story), 1906. Matthew has been travelling the world and generally avoiding Shadowhunters until he gets to Tortuga and meets a Nephilim woman with her marks stripped in exile there. She is a widow expecting to give birth to her first child in somewhere over three months. It only has two chapters so far, but it's supposed to be a cute murder mystery (..."cute" as in there's romance, but also the murder mystery itself is not actually cute, it gets quite dark).

Pride and Prejudice 2,460 words. Work in progress. It is literally just a Thomastair Pride and Prejudice AU. It has one chapter. I intend to continue it one day, but I have to refer to the book often so it's on the backburner because I am too lazy to refer to the book to write and this AU requires it. I'll get around to it eventually. Probably.

I am tagging @griddle-cakes, @sourlemons262, @zoyalannister, and @all-this-panic-still-no-disco (mostly because I know you're also fanfic writers, 3/4 of which have written also for TLH. You absolutely don't have to do this though if you don't want to.)

[your-eternal-nightmare]

Dream, I believe that it was incredibly ungrateful of Tommy to run away from exile, despite all the good you've done for him. I especially dislike how he blindly pictured you as a villain, just because you had to punish him sometimes to help him grow into a better person. What had he done to avoid the punishment? Nothing but defy your authority and rules time and time again, and expect to meet no consequences. Maybe he even expected to receive a headpat or a gift for it? It's just hilarious, to be honest...

I hope you retrieve him soon, you're the only good influence he can have, after all :) And once you do, take very good care of him and make sure that he stays with you forever, safe from the rest of the server. His place is with you, beneath you... :) They don't need him anyway, do they? Where have they been when he was exiled, murdered in prison, or during your reunion in Logstedshire? And that is because they simply don't care, I wish Tommy understood that again... He can't ignore the truth forever, one day he'll have to face it, whether he likes it or not.

I think it doesn't matter how long he tries to resist, he always ends up submitting. At this point, it's like second nature to him. And if it takes a longer time to mould him into whatever you want, it's just more entertaining, don't you think? :)

Well, in his defense, I maybe did go a little too far blowing up Logstedshire and I think he might have gotten the idea that I was abandoning him, but I also gave him plenty of opportunities to come back to me after, and he refused :) And that really threw things off for me, y'know? My plans would have gone a lot smoother had he been on my side the whole time :) And I don't really mind playing the "evil villain" role for him, honestly :) He's always trying to be the "hero" because it gives him a sense of purpose, y'know? But it's very entertaining, so I don't mind continuing that little game of ours until he realizes that it's me that gives him purpose :)

And thank you :) Don't worry, I'll be taking very, very good care of Tommy :) Nobody cares about him or could ever care about him as much as I do, and no one will ever abandon him again because he'll only have me, and I'll be around forever :) :) :) And no one else will ever hurt him again :) Tommy will understand eventually, but until then his pointless defiance is always amusing :)

[ezra-iolite]

One Last Wish- Chapter 1 (A Pirateformers AU Fanfic)

The Immortal Sun finally arrives on the sea border of Joka Ardhi, the homeland of their Dragonkin crewmate, Asya Mutheru. There, all is revealed about her past and why she has returned to the land that exiled her. Gathering a small army, including her polyamorous spouses Captain Elbent and Verglaust, they march across the desert to the capital to face the tyrant emperor of the kingdom, Dragon Lord Jhamal, and stop his crusade to invade the northern kingdoms before it begins… And fulfil the prophecy of the Throne of Crimson Sands.

The Pirateformers AU, Elbent and Verglaust belong to @tigracespace

The brief mention of Solclave belongs to @dimorphodon-x

Blue Heron belongs to @hyraxas

Asya and Apophis/Apo belong to me

Chapter 1: Legacy of the Burning Prince

“So… This is Joka Ardhi, huh? The legendary Kingdom of Crimson Sands… You still haven’t told us why we’re here, Asya. And after six months of you playing my role as the navigator, I think now’s a good time as any to tell us what exactly is going on here.”

“I told you already, Blue. All will be explained in time. For now, we just need to stay on this side of the sea border and begin planning.”

The taller native of the desert kingdom turned her back to Blue Heron to face their destination, its glimmering red sands and many colourful and small sandstone buildings of the port city now within sight on the horizon. His focus, however, remained on the Jokani woman as he spotted her long pointed ears droop ever so slightly, a motion caused by the shiver that spread up her back the moment she spotted her homelands far ahead.

“Wait, I-I’m sorry, I must have misheard you over the strong wind. I thought I heard you say that you didn’t-”

“You heard me, Blue… I know I’m normally the “I’ve got a plan, let’s get going” kind of person, but… I honestly don’t know what to expect the moment we enter Jokani territory. I… I-I mean, come on, Blue! It’s been forty years since I left this place, and I haven’t even dared to sail past the equator until now. I’ve never been able to gather the courage to come back here since my exile, not even when they…”

Asya’s words caught in her throat as another shiver ran up her spine, this time accompanied by an audible whimper as she hugged herself to be rid of the chills of her past. Blue’s anger immediately fell as he approached the Dragonkin and held her shoulder, drawing her teary eyed attention back onto him.

“Asya… You’re here now, and that’s all you need to know that you’re ready to face whatever lies ahead. You faced your fear by asking your wife, our captain, to be the navigator for this mission you told her was vital and would be explained later, and your courage has since brought us all the way here. So whatever happens next… You won’t be alone in facing this challenge. But, Asya… We all need to know what you think we’ll face, once we dock in that city. If this is a dangerous mission you’ve started, we need to know what to expect. So please, Asya… tell us why we’re here.”

Sniffling loudly, Asya quickly dried her eyes on her dress sleeve before she sighed and turned to fully face Blue Heron. “Not here… I need everyone to hear this. Gather the entire crew here, then I’ll tell you everything.”

“I understand. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time… And Heron?”

Blue looked over his shoulder as he neared the door to head below deck. Asya let out a long sigh before she looked back up at him with a half-smile.

“Do you trust me?”

“… With my life, my friend. Or… how do you say it in your tongue? A friend?”

Asya chuckled with a soft blush blooming on her dark ebony cheeks. “It’s rafiki. You’re my rafiki, darling… my friend.”

“Huh…. It’s nice to hear your true accent again, and not your preferred posh Primus one,���

“I- Wait, how do you know about tha-”

“But… To answer your question… I trust you, as my rafiki, with my life. And I hope that you can trust me in turn with whatever you need to do here. We’re a crew, Asya… Nothing will change that.” With a wink, Blue slipped through the door and vanished down the stairs, leaving Asya alone in her shocked realization on the deck.

Letting out another heavy sigh to release the tension within her, Asya reached up to her headband and carefully untied its knot under her dreadlocks, removing her most valuable treasure and holding the thin strip of silk in both hands, before her thumb squeezed out the small hard lump within its folded layers to reveal a large ruby that plopped into her palm. Holding the ruby up between her fingers, Asya gazed at the soft glimmer of orange magic within the crystal, letting out another sigh to steel her nerves as she closed her fist around it.

“If only you knew, Blue. I have no idea what might happen the moment I step off this ship. But I know one thing’s for certain… I’m not running away. Not anymore. Bori… Mama… Kamaria… I’m done hiding the real me. It’s finally time to do this… Right, Apo?”

A golden string of pure magic flickered into reality from her chest, its glimmering soft light revealing itself slowly across the deck and up towards the mast, where a red ball of fire roared into life at the end of the golden string and soon formed the shape of a giant feathered amphiptere dragon, his outline and form made entirely out of red fire that did not burn any of the wood of the Immortal Sun’s exterior. Gripping the mast with a winged claw, he hoisted himself up to the empty crow’s nest and used his fiery serpent tongue to wrap around the chest hidden under the floorboard, pulling it out and clambering down to place it in front of Asya before he stood tall before her and finally spoke.

“The throne awaits, my queen~” Apophis purred, wrapping his coils under himself to perch before his soul-bound ward, the string connecting their very souls turning invisible once more as Asya kicked the chest open and knelt down to rummage inside it, placing the crystal and her beloved headscarf in her dress pocket for the time being.

“Don’t call me that… There’s too much that needs to be done before I can even dare to announce my claim to the crown. And luckily, it’s a three day journey from Wajiri to Oasis. And… I still need to actually consider the consequences of what will happen when I show my face there.”

“Well, forty mortal years is a long time for anyone to remember such a detail as your exile. And who knows? Maybe there are those who hate the Tyrant too that will happily choose you over him?” Apo crossed his winged arms over his chest as he coiled his serpentine body under himself to perch before Asya.

Asya glared over the lid of the chest at Apo. “Really? You actually think they’ll side with me? The unwanted runt who was nearly killed for simply coming out as a woman, who then had the entire Lord’s Hand hunt me down the day I left, and killed those who helped me? Really, Apo?! Tell me something, then… If they truly did support me after all this time, then tell me right now that there isn’t a decomposed body being hung on display on the outskirts of that same city my entire first family were slaughtered in. Tell me that they finally buried the only mortal man who ever made me feel loved and helped me escape this hellish kingdom…. Only then will I finally believe you, that the people of this kingdom have truly changed and will willingly betray the crown for me.”

Apo dared to only look briefly to the horizon, before he muttered a soft, “I don’t know… I cannot smell him.”

“Exactly… Only his bones are surely still there. The rest of the Dunefarers were at least burned at the pyre for aiding in my escape. They were given mercy, Apo… He gave them mercy for daring to aid the runt of a child he wanted dead. And I still remember the laughter of the Lord’s Hand members, those damned humans who swore such eager loyalty to him and only him… I remember them laughing as they hunted Bori down… And I could only watch from the drifting ship as he was gutted alive and… Apo, I can’t. I can’t face him again, after what he did to Bori… To the one man I felt safe enough to consider being my Dad, when…. My own blood father killed him, Apo!! Just for helping me and giving me the family I yearned for in that accursed desert!!,”

A hiccup caught in her throat as Asya gripped the sides of the chest with one hand, the other tightly holding onto the red cloth parcel she was looking for, shakily pulling it out to reveal the blood splatters of that day still staining the fabric. Sobbing into the parcel, Apo leaned down to nuzzle his snout against Asya’s shoulder.

“And you’re telling me… I have to see him again, after what he did to me and the Dunefarers? To Bori?”

“Someone has to stand up to him, before he begins his crusade to the north,” Apo whispered as he wrapped his wings around his ward, swaddling her in feathers of harmless fire. “Kamaria would never have sent that letter if her vision wasn’t true. That same vision is surely how the old Seer figured out where to send it in order for it to reach us on time. How else could she have known when none from our old home knows our whereabouts?”

“That… That’s Kamaria for you. Always the first to know what to do in any situation. She’s the Elder Seer for a reason, after all.” Asya sniffled, her grip on the parcel finally loosened to allow her to unwrap it and reveal the gold and leather armour within.

“So then, if you don’t believe me or that Heron fellow that you are ready to do this, then will you at least believe in old ‘Maria? She’s seen an empire rise and fall before, remember? She was there when your forefather, my grandson, took the throne and emerged in fire as her new Dragon Lord. She was there to serve his heir as the first Seer and formed the Mwonaji Council of other Dragonkin Seers. That old hag is the strongest ally we have, and who is luckily hidden on the inside. She knows what you’re capable of… And what your father will do if you don’t stop him.”

“… And what if I have to kill him?” Asya’s thumb brushed over the old bloodstain on her aged armour as Apo’s fiery form shrunk down to the size of a large dog to meet her gaze.

“Then you’ll have an army. Not just on this ship… but along the path to the capital. You are not the first nor only noble of Alunnui’s bloodline to have been born in the wrong body. Your great grandmother was born a male too. And yet she was more than able to carry and deliver your grandfather and his brother. Just as how you delivered Sira. That alone is proof that your father is an idiot for thinking that only a man deserves the crown.”

“But others follow his sexist logic, Apo… Others will try to stop me from doing this.  What if they outnumber those who wish to see my father step down? What if no one wants me in his place?”

“Tell the crew your story… They will be your voice to convince the people of why he must be stopped.”

“But what if they-”

“They have known you for twenty of their mortal years. And while you may hide it, Asya… The closer we’ve gotten to the border, the stronger you’ve become. Your connection to our homeland’s magic is growing stronger, and your once stunted appearance has finally changed. You’re not the same person you were when you left these lands, or when you first stepped onto this ship… These people got to know you as you grew, in both power and through gaining a family. One look at the real you and upon hearing your story of why you left… It will be enough. If you cannot trust in yourself to convince them… Trust me. They deserve to hear the full story.”

“About my ancestor… or about you?” Asya chuckled softly as she dried her eyes and closed the chest, allowing Apo to use his tail to wrap around it and carry it behind him as he slithered over to the mast.

“Why not the both of us? Not many know the tale of the Burning Prince… or why I am bound to your soul. So… why not tell them everything? And show them why you need their help to stop running from what you fear most. After all… You said it yourself. You’re done running… Aren’t you?”

“I am. And I’m tired of hiding it all. I came out once before… It couldn’t hurt to do it again, right?,” Pulling the ruby out of her pocket, Asya looked at it within her palm before looking back up at Apo. “…I’m done hiding from him and from everyone. It ends now.”

Closing her eyes with a heavy sigh, Asya hugged the wrapped armour close to her chest, and with one more look to her fist, she crushed the gem into tiny shards, each one that fell from her opened hand vanishing as they turned into red sand that blew away in the wind before they could hit the wooden floor. The orange glittery magic swirled like a sandstorm around her, rising up from the soles of her boots to the top of her head before it too blew away with the wind, towards the sun high above. As Apo’s form returned to its full size to allow him to hide the chest within the crow’s nest once again, he looked down from above her with a proud smile.

“And there she is… A blessing of the sun itself. Orange suits you, my dear~ So… What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure yet, but… I think I might change before they arrive. These heels are killing me.”

Apo chuckled as he lowered his tail to her, allowing Asya to sit down on it and lift her up into the crow’s nest, a flash of orange scales appearing under her dress as a tail wrapped around Apo’s own.

~*~

“Seventy-seven… Seventy-eight… Has anyone seen Solclave? I thought he came up here with Elbent?”

“He’s coming up in a sec, Blue! He’s just busy with something,” Elbent called out, as she waved Verglaust over to join her side. “Over here, hun! Is Kevin and Bryn’ with you? Did either of them find Asya yet?”

“Kevin’s fetching the kids right now, and Bryn’ is helping him with that. They’ll be here soon,” Verglaust assured, peering over the massive crowd now gathered on the deck. “But no, they’ve been too busy to look for Asya. But I doubt we need to, since she’s the one who asked Blue to bring us here. He said she had something to tell everyone, about why we’re in Joka Ardhi.”

“Oh, good. As long as she’s… Wait, you don’t think this is about… that, do you?” Elbent gripped onto Verglaust’s arm as she looked up at him.

“We’ll have to wait and see what she says. But I have a bad feeling it might be that.”

As Verglaust turned his attention back on the crowd, he spotted the two half-giants, Brynjolf and Solclave, coming through the door, with Kevin and five children in tow. But just as he waved them over to reunite the family amongst the hoard of crewmembers, a flash of red zipped down the mast from the crow’s nest and landed on the quarter deck above the crowd.

Standing before the entire crew of the Immortal Sun was a warrior wrapped in red fabric that hid her face in a hood, which continued as a drape that wrapped from over her right shoulder and around her chest under a golden half plate of armour shaped as an under-bust corset, leaving her ebony shoulders exposed. From her elbows to her hands, bright orange scales formed a natural armour for her exposed arms, armed with lethal claws for hands that rested upon her pleated skirt of dark brown leather strips, woven with leather string on top of the underskirt of more red fabric that peeked out under the leather to reach her knees, all held together by a belt of cheetah skin and braided red fabric, on top of a tan coloured strip of leather that formed the large belt around the entirety of her stomach and waist. As she made her way to the stairs towards the deck, her bare digitigrade legs were finally revealed to also have orange scales below the knee, leading down to talon bearing paws for feet that made no sound whatsoever as she stepped onto the usually creaking wood of the stairs and stopped halfway to stay in everyone’s line of sight, a long tail of orange scales and black fur covering the tip revealing itself as it curled around her leg.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. I know you all have questions, and they will be answered soon,” The warrior spoke, revealing herself by voice alone to be the Dragonkin.

Pulling down her hood, Asya looked down at the crowd with bright aquamarine, draconic slit eyes, her pointed ears now long enough to reach past her head behind her, and long, curved horns of charcoal black peeked through her tied back dreadlocks and grew above her head slightly before they swooped towards the back into sharp, curved tips, the rings along the horns glimmering like polished crystals that glowed in the colours and red veins akin to volcanic magma. Stopping at the middle step along the short flight of stairs, Asya spoke once more to the entire crew.

“In order to answer at least some of them, I wish to tell you about this kingdom we’re in… About the history of Joka Ardhi. Apo… Would you mind starting us off?”

Closing her eyes, Asya’s head suddenly twitched to the side with a soft crack of her neck, but instead of her blue gaze greeting the crowd, golden eyes that glowed with power and pride narrowed with mischief, as a grin formed to flash sharp fangs in a playful smile and a masculine voice purred from Asya’s lips, as Apo spoke to the crowd.

“Certainly, my dear~”

With a snap of his fingers, Apo brought the lanterns around the entire deck to life with red flames that casted long dark shadows over the deck, startling many of the crewmates as they huddled to one side of the deck, as the fires sputtered and grew brighter within their glass lantern prisons. The midday sun seemed to nearly dull as darkness covered the deck like a tent roof, and from the shadows rose silhouettes outlined by the fires… Silhouettes of dragons soaring through the air.

“Three thousand years ago, dragons ruled the world. They were, however, found to be the most plentiful in the south, where no humans or mortals lived due to the harsh sun and the shifting sands. So, the south gained its name from the main inhabitants of the land… For to this day, it is still known as the Dragon Lands, merely called so in a different tongue. You know it to today… as Joka Ardhi.”

The shadows changed as Apo stepped onto the deck, the light swirling behind him to reveal his true shadow, that of a giant serpentine dragon. As he turned to face the crowd, his eyes in the shadow glowed gold behind him, but around his neck shone the reflections of ruby shards in the shape of a crescent. Beside his shadow were two wyverns, both bearing blue eyes just like Asya’s.

“Three thousand years ago… I ruled the Dragon Lands as their Lord. My reign was supreme in every continent for no dragon could best me in battle, but my seat of power was here in the south. I ruled with my Alpha and wife, Jua… and our many children, including my eldest daughter, Princess Citrine. She was to be my heir, to become Dragon Queen of the skies, the seas and the lands across the world. Then, one day… The first humans arrived.”

His shadow changed as Apo paced to the left, now revealing him sitting like a regal sphinx facing a group of humans that bowed on one knee to him, a large fleet of ships behind them.

“They came from the far north, even farther than the shores of Primus or Unicron. They told me that day that they came to my domain in search of a home, for a place they could begin a new life and to build a culture of their own. I granted them the right of shelter and aided in building their first settlement, and for a time… there was peace. They respected our laws and culture, and in turn we learned about the beauty of humanity, our ability to shapeshift in order to appear like them and walk in their shoes for a time, and the advancements one generation could craft in such a short lifespan. By the time my daughter was in her adult years, the settlement had become a vast village and they were already spreading out to create more for their ever growing numbers. But with such rapid growth and pride in one’s growing strength… came humanity’s true form of hubris.”

The fires dimmed as the shadows changed once more, revealing a cave where Apo and the two wyverns slept around a nest of eggs. Apo’s fist clenched at his side as he spoke with a growl to his voice.

“I…. Rrrrgghhh…. I was nearing the day where I would give my mantle of Dragon Lord to my daughter, for she had already started a family and had asked me to be their guardian in my retirement. I was happy… so happy… to settle down and see my family grow. One night, my den was invaded by humans… seeking something they once swore loyalty to, but now sought to have for themselves.”

The fires suddenly rose into a bright blaze to reveal the humans wielding spears and swords at the mouth of the cave, many of whom had already plunged them into the two wyverns, while others stormed through the nest, breaking the eggs and spilling their precious yolks. The humans that surrounded Apo’s shadow plunged their spears into his neck, ripping off the collar of rubies he wore and frantically started pulling them off the collar.

“They called themselves the Founders, for they deemed their half of humanity as the true inhabitants of the kingdom, and none should dare oppose their right to rule their own kind. So… they took my mantle and crown and killed my family before my very eyes. And with my dying breath, I swore to them that the kingdom of mankind would fall, for the sands have always been home to the dragons, and we do not die that easily. I remember only their laughter at my words… before a spear was plunged between my eyes.”

Darkness then fell over the entire ship, as the wind blew harshly over them all, bringing a chill to their spines as somewhere within the breeze… distant war cries echoed, the clashing of swords and the roar of dragons boomed far off into the distance.

“And so began the Founder’s War… A battle for the right to own the kingdom of the sands… But for my people, it was a battle for survival of the species. A war against humanity’s desire for our extermination. We were once called Titans by them… but now they deemed us pests, monsters… mere beasts. However… during the twelve-year conflict, a miracle happened.”

Out from beside Apo, a new shadow dragon rose, glowing red with blue eyes just like Jua and Citrine’s, with a single ruby shard upon his neck. Beside him… a female human that held his raised claw and looked up at him with awe and adoration.

“My youngest son, Prince Rhodon, led my kind against the human Founders in the war, making him the last true Dragon Lord for a time. However, during the war… He fell in love. With a human of all things, but the human was a leader too. Her name… was Seraphina, and she led a resistance of other humans that saw the dragons as equals, and as such did everything they could to persuade their own species to stop the crusade. In fact, because of their secret union, many other dragons fell for humans too and just like my son and his forbidden bride, they hid their love from the world and used it as motivation to stop the war for good. But… the humans had lived on our lands long enough to learn magic, especially our kind of magic… Fire. And while we used fire as both our weapon and lifeforce, we also used it as our leverage to keep our numbers alive… We had Soulfire. White flames made from the very essence of our souls, we could use it to bring someone from within death’s grip back to life, in exchange for a piece of our soul. A life for a life, something we rarely did only when absolutely necessary. And somehow… Humans learned about our secret and managed to find a way to create its exact opposite. By human hand alone, they made the most forbidden form of magic to this day… Grimfire or, what my people called it back then… Blackfire.”

The shadow of a battlefield soon appeared across the deck, with dragon roars and clashing swords growing louder all around the crew as dragons and human warriors clashed claw and weapon over and over again. From beside Apo, three humans adorned with mage robes towered over the battlefield like spires, the one in the middle holding his hands cupped together and a sinister grin grew under his hood. The flames from within two of the lanterns suddenly jumped out of their glass prisons and into the hands of the mage, the fire gathering into a wild and angry blaze that darkened in colour, until it became black with a purple core and outline and brought an unnatural chill to the crew who stood near it. All three human mages laughed as they released the purple flames… only to join in the chorus of blood-curdling screams and screeches alike as both the mages, the dragons and every single shadow on the battlefield was engulfed by the black fire, the deadly flames spreading over their flesh and turning them instantly into skeletons. One such shadow from the battlefield, a large wyvern, jumped out of the flat shadow world and became a solid 3D figure of green flames that flew around the ship and screeched in fear as the black flames gained tendrils and lashed out at the green life-sized dragon. The black fire leapt out and caught the dragon’s tail, turning its green fire into yellow bone shaped flames as the black flames devoured its flesh like burning paper, causing the green wyvern to screech and roar in agony as it crashed next to the ship but it did not touch the surface of the water. More roars suddenly accompanied it as more and more coloured fire-formed dragons began to appear and drop from the sky onto the sea, right where the rocks were all around the ship.

Apo raised his arms and slowly with his movement, the flames dwindled down to take back the darkness and allow the midday sun to shine through his veil of theatrical darkness… Revealing the giant rocks and small islands all around to be covered in weathered bones of dragons, the closest one being a wyvern skeleton with its lower half missing, its head and wings spread across a rock as it struggled in its final moments to climb onto it, its claws dug into the rock to escape its demise with its maw open wide from its final screech. As Apo raised the veil of shadows once more, hushed gasps and murmurs came over the crew, with Elbent looking towards Apo with eyes full of worry and sorrow. Giving her a simple solemn nod, he continued his tale of the past.

“The Blackfire wiped out every single dragon and human Founder across the battlefield, and then upon every fleeing dragon. After twelve years, the humans won as they became the sole survivors of the Blackfire Siege. In turn… the corpses of my kind that fell in battle and died from the Blackfire on land became the reason why the sands turned red and remain so to this day. But… not everything died by the Blackfire in that final battlefield.”

The red flames brought back the shadows of the battlefield, now littered with skeletons and fallen weapons across the sand. Through the field of bones, two humans made their way into the battlefield, as though searching for something. Through the heavy silence came a whisper of a sound, a sound even the shadowed humans could hear as they looked around in a panic. Through the breeze and the chill of death…. Came the cry of a baby.

“There were survivors found that day that weren’t human… But neither were they dragons. And the first of their kind is the reason why I know all this. For I saw the end through his eyes.”

The scene zoomed in on the humans as they reached the bones of a massive amphiptere dragon, just like Apo, and within his wings was the skeleton of a human. And there, within the shelter of the wings and the huddled embrace of the human… was a baby bawling at the top of his lungs, bearing a black burn scar over the side of his entire face and left arm. A baby with tiny nubby horns, red scales that shone like crystals over his healthy arm and legs, with tiny claws for feet.

“Rhodon and Seraphina had a son… And during the final battle, they attempted to flee to save their family so that they could fight another day. When the Blackfire came… they did as any parent would and protected their son with all their love and sacrificed themselves to save him. Rhodon’s last breath… was a breath of Soulfire for his son. That was the day I awoke and saw the world through the eyes of my grandson… trapped and weak within his soul. All I could do was watch as the allies of Seraphina came and rescued the child. A child they knew the name of from their leader’s loving speeches on how she would cherish the child for a better future.”

He paused to sigh as the shadows swirled and the fires brightened to cast one long shadow onto the deck… before it came forth as an illusion of a man, a Dragonkin with long horns, clawed digitigrade feet and an air of royalty on his rugged and determined face… A face and overall appearance that was just like Asya in every way. The same horns, hair, height, face… Identical in every way but gendered appearance, golden eyes like his grandfather Apo, and the scar across his face and over his entire left arm.

“A child she and my son named… Alunnui. He grew up in the care of the human rebels, as they rescued other hybrids like him and hid them in the underground caves my kind once called our home. His kind, the first of the Dragonkin, all grew up together in hiding, for the humans grew confident and in their pride they built the first cities that still stand to this day in the kingdom before you all. And in his years of living in secrecy, Alunnui was told tales of my reign, of how his father and kindred fell to the humans, and how he and his own secret kindred were the last to bear dragon blood. The stories became inspiration… then motivation, as he reached adulthood. Thus, he began to plan… To build… To prepare.”

Behind the shadow of Alunnui, an army of Dragonkin bowed to him, with one handing him a spear covered in colourful beads, feathers and dragon scales.

“With the Prince’s Spear in hand, Alunnui and the Dragonkin marched to the capital and for the first time since the Founder’s War ended, they exposed themselves to the human world and began their attack. I still remember his words that day, when he stood before the gates and spoke to the king that bore my crown…”

The shadows warped behind Alunnui as he faced towering stone gates, the army of Dragonkin behind him on the deck floor. With a powerful slam of his spear, Apo spoke as Alunnui moved his lips to his words to speak to the shadow of a human in a crown on the walkway above the gate.

“Mortal king of the sands, I speak only to you! Your father and his people have slaughtered my kind, and you now stand on a kingdom forever stained in the blood of my ancestors. Hear me, false king, for I stand before you now as the survivor of my people’s royal bloodline, and so I speak as one royal to another… Give back the land that belonged to the Dragons, to whom you once called your neighbour and friend, or my kindred and I will take your cities and reclaim what is ours by birthright! Deny us our right to our own lands and crown, and your kingdom shall fall and burn with you in it! What say you, thief?”

The shadow of the human king laughed soundlessly, before Apo responded for him.

“You ghastly beasts have fallen once before by human hand! If you truly believe I owe you anything, then I shall happily remind you of how your father and his kind fell.”

With a soundless yell accompanied by the roar of flames from his body, Alunnui charged through the gates and lay siege onto the kingdom of shadows, as Apo continued his narration.

“The Dragonkin attacked the capital city of Oasis in a wave of fire and bloodshed… For when night fell, the palace erupted into a tower of flames, where the king fell and the crownless prince emerged before his people, of both human and Dragonkin alike… Where he donned the moniker of the Burning Prince and the first Dragon Lord of his kind. This night became the historical event known to both humans and Dragonkin… as the Night of Crowning Fire.”

The shadows formed a door that suddenly burst into red and orange flames that did not burn the ship, and with a gust of hot air the doors flew open to reveal Alunnui walking through the fire that did him no harm as the humans behind him fell to their death by the scorching flames. The crowd of shadow Dragonkin and humans all watched in awe and horror as Alunnui stepped out of the palace doors and raised a blood covered crown that burned with flames from his arm, a motion that sent every shadow witness to their knees as they bowed to their Dragon Lord.

The shadowy veil then vanished, and the flames from the lanterns went out, giving back the light of day across the ship as Apo stood before the crowd of crewmates and bowed his head. Upon rising back up, blue eyes met the crowd as Asya gained her voice and body back and spoke with her arms behind her back.

“On that day, a new monarchy took hold as old grudges and fears were whittled out, in respect for the history our people shared. Humans and Dragonkin became one civilization… the Jokani. In turn, the Jokani prospered under the rule of the new emperor, Dragon Lord Alunnui, who then sired an heir and began the Ruby Bloodline.”

Summoning orange fire in her palm, Asya created a new illusion in front of her, with each name she called out revealing a Dragonkin, each bearing a crown like the one Alunnui held.

“Dragon Lord Bakari, son of the Burning Prince and Queen Consort Noxolo…

Dragon Lord Mzuri, son of Lord Bakari the Kind and his King Consorts Amri and Shani…

Dragon Queen Citrine the Second, daughter of Lord Mzuri and Priestess Zahara, founder of the Nyotan religion and the Evenstar Church…

Dragon Lord Alhaadi, eldest son of Citrine the Second and King Consort Lauzel…

Dragon Lord heir apparent Amani, eldest son of Alhaadi the Wise and Queen Consort Lulana, who died before he could take the crown and was succeeded by the second eldest of the three children…

Dragon Lord Jhamal and Queen Consort Gasira Mutheru…”

Stepping through the fiery illusion to make it disappear, Asya stood before the entire crew as she raised her head high and spoke louder than before, only this time tears began to form as she struggled to hold back her sobs.

“Prince… A-Andres, son… o-of Lord Jhamal and Queen Consort Gasira. B-But I do not go by that name anymore! Not since I was exiled by my father for coming out as a woman. For I… I am Princess Asya Zahara O-Murchadha-Mutheru of Joka Ardhi, bearer of the Ruby Bloodline, descendant of the Burning Prince, and the next in line to the Throne of Crimson Sands. And I… I brought us here so that I could ask for your help. My father, Jhamal, intends to invade the north and claim Primus, Unicron and every kingdom beyond here as his domain. But I… I cannot allow that to happen. For my father is also known by many as Jhamal the Tyrant, and he earned that name through his cruelty, for neglecting his queen and letting her die alone with their only child f-from a… a mere, curable fever, for draining this land of its once peaceful and prosperous wealth and wellbeing, and for slaughtering the innocent for merely helping me escape his cruelty many years ago. He has been nothing but a heartless and bloodthirsty monster my whole life, and now he is set on claiming the rest of the world as his plaything. I… I can’t let him do this,”

Quickly turning away to dry her eyes, Asya spoke much more softly as her voice struggled to come out between her sobs and hiccups.

“I… I cannot stay hidden any longer and allow this to happen. And so… I come to you all to ask you only one thing… For should you agree, I cannot guarantee your safety the moment we cross into Jokani territory. And should we succeed in my plan… I might not come back here, onto this ship, ever again. For my plan is simply this… I must go back to my homeland, to the palace in the capital city of Oasis, and face my father in battle for the right to reclaim the throne. Should I succeed and overthrow him, I will become the new Dragon Queen and empress of Joka Ardhi. So, I will need everyone’s help in ensuring the safety of the Jokani people, to keep them away from the battle between me and my father, but should I fail… I will need every one of you to try and kill him in my stead.

“So… Now that you know what lies ahead, I fully understand if any of you do not wish to do this, and why I will allow you this one chance to step away and be safe here on the ship. But for those of you who wish to help me save my home and to fight with me to take down my father…,”

Putting out her hand, Asya offered it with tears now rolling down her cheeks towards the crowd as she weakly smiled and looked around to the crew of the Immortal Sun. “… Will you fight beside me and help me reclaim the Throne of Crimson Sands, for the freedom of this and all kingdoms across the world?”

[andromacheflints]

humbly requesting u talk abt ur ocs <3

rainbow i love you. anyway aranj and myrem I've been dying to talk about aranj and myrem but I kinda struggle to because they are kinda tied up in worldbuilding?? so get ready to hear that

so i have this pre-modern alternate world setting that i use mostly as a sandbox, and in this world there is a valley and in this valley there are some people who are called lichu (name not set in stone. like their language is called lichuek and -ek means "in the manner of" but its been a while since i worked on lichuek and i think i might want to add a suffix to mean "people" and ANYWAY) sometimes these people are organised in kingdoms and states of their own and sometimes they are part of other states.

anyway there were these two girls who were childhood friends, murem and aranj, who were sort of rich but then murem's family fell off and, being very charming and very clever, she ended up scamming people. and then ended up being run off the country for scamming people. and aranj was like "well I can't let you leave alone" and went with her. so and so they go to Nejbekar (a thriving city-state which features A Lot in the stories i write for this world) to continue being scams. and myrem was like Okay we're in the big city now we gotta refine our act, we'll say im land-owning nobility that has been Exiled from our Land (there's prooooooobably some unrest thats actually happening in their country at that point but i haven't really ironed that one out) and that you are my servant*

*now the thing about servants and lichuek culture is that there is this literary archetype of the Vassal/Servant/Steward sort of, who is a bit like the knight errant in the sense that they did not really Exist but have cultural value as a literary figure and is associated with The Noble Past. and like the vassal is supposed to be loyal to their lord yadda yadda and Most Importantly to take care of their lord's grave after they die (because in middle lichuek literature the lord usually dies young doing something heroic and brilliant) [ask me how this is reflected in their creation myth<3] (and also lord is not exactly a "lord" in the feudal european sense. its more like someone who can command loyalty and Deserves Loyalty) (yes this means lichuek culture has built-in support for all kinds of grifters. dont worry about it)

but the thing is, right, that for myrem the whole thing is an act. she expects them to go home at night and switch it off.

but aranj. who has very little ambition of her own. who has Already spent her whole life following myrem (who really Is brilliant and charismatic while aranj is..jjust some guy honestly). who Already expects that Myrem will die young doing something brilliant and heroic. who misses her home and find some connection to it by embodying this role (and also in the promise that someday she'll return to bury myrem)…she's living for that shit!

(and thats another thing - murem would be just fine living in nejbekar for the rest of her life but aranj Pines for Home and has Very Complicated feelings on murem being the reason they had to leave) (even though she did not have to leave) (but she had to)

meanwhile myrem is straight-up in love with aranj but aranj does not reciprocate (partly cause she's Found A Model for what their relationship should be like and thinks that a relationship with her would be debasing to Myrem. partly because she Just Does Not See Myrem Like That). She'll worship her but not kiss her and its driving myrem insane because she could order her. technically. and murem wants aranj to love her but she thinks she would only do it out of obedience, which not the thing she wants!!!

and its this thing right where aranj wants to serve myrem so much that it comes on the other end as being an inconvenience

and i just. yeah. they love each other very deeply but on very different terms and i love them for that

[msfbgraves]

This inspired me to get something off my chest, or rather go Yes! AND!!! I'll put most of it under the cut, because it got long!

So much of our social conditioning is adults going: "This is how normal people do it, and if you're not normal, you have to force yourself to look as normal as possible, because how can it be done other than the normal way? It can't."

"Why can't it?"

"We can't imagine it, and everybody does it this way, so it must be the only way possible."

Like, people always told me: "You have to finish what you start". What hell! That means that if I do something I hate, I know that this will be my life for the next two, three, four hours? No thank you! The assumption seems to be that if you don't finish something it will be erased from your memory, never to be completed? Or that you can't focus on what you're doing if you take breaks? If anyone had told 8 year old me, "you can stop and switch tasks whenever you need - do you think you can bear to do one quarter of one math problem that is so hard for you? Do as much as you can handle, and then you can put it away for another problem you also have to do only a tiny bit of, and you can have some fun in between." Because like that at least I don't get bored! I get another kind of motivation of having three things going on at the same time - "overwhelm, eliminate one," but that is intrinsic motivation! Yeah, other people have no way to gauge your progress - so what? I'm not distracted. I know exactly what I am doing, and after a palate cleanser, I can return to it. That makes it so much easier to start something hard! You're not in fun exile, you're doing just something not fun for a bit. Whoever said that concentration can only be achieved for long chunks at a time? It's not that I can't do it - I can sit exams no problem - but honestly, stop when you need makes it that you're not on some fun exile, you're much less likely to overwork yourself, different kinds of input means less bored, and every time you come back to it the task is just this tiny bit simpler.

This is often described when people talk about living with someone with ADD, but they always talk about them going: "Huh? Why is this vacuum cleaner here?" I know why the vacuum is there. I'm just cleaning one cup before I file two papers and then return to it. In the end the papers are filed the dishes are done and the floor is clean, rather than me not doing any of it because I'll start biting myself if I have to do it all in one go.

And if you do get into it for long stretches? Success!

If things don't work, they don't work. It's indeed not the same as not putting in effort. People who don't put in effort often don't care about other's feelings when they fail them, or expect others to pick up the slack of things they could have done themselves. Saying: "I can't do it like this, I need another way," is not the same as not caring. It may be too hard for people though who have never had to think of another way. Again, they're very prone to saying that there is none.

If you show them, they're very prone to saying: "Well. You can't expect me to think like you."

Which shows how unreasonable it is for them to expect you to change your entire way of thinking, since they can't do that either.

Do what works indeed. If they can't imagine it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

I have too much personal life experience of sudden dramatic one-time quick fixes to not believe they're real. People can tell me "there's no magic bullet solution to anything, you'll just have to keep trudging through the repetitive drudgery until it stops feeling bad and starts giving results" all they want, but the truth is that this has never worked for me. The reason why my problem-solving method focuses almost entirely in finding some sort of a serendipitous miracle solution is because that's the only kind of thing that makes things work for me.

I'm not reluctant to do things the hard way because I'm lazy and think things should come to me for free with no effort. I am perfectly capable of doing hard work. I just know my life well enough to know that doing things the hard way doesn't fucking work.

[thefangirlthatwaited]

Awoken (Chapter 4) - A Destiny 2 Origin Story

Uldren Sov x Original Character

Sjur Eido. The Queen’s Wrath and the commander of the Awoken Armada. What she had in store for me, I didn’t know. What I did know was everything I did would be reported back to Mara, which meant I needed to be on my best behaviour. 

The morning I was due to meet Sjur, I woke up before my family, packed my bag since I didn’t know where I would be going and set off for her office. I got dirty looks from a few Corsairs as I neared Sjur’s office. To them, my punishment was a dig at the position they held. I couldn’t care less. I knock once before a voice beckons me to enter.

“Ah, Aurora Till. Right on schedule.” Sjur turned off her computer and stood tall and menacing. Her long white hair was pulled back in a neat braid while her bow, Wish-ender, rested against the desk. “I didn’t expect you to show up.”

“The Queen ordered me here.”

“Yes. Yet, since you defied our Queen’s command regarding who could leave the Reef,”

“I understand.” Sjur honestly thought I would cut and run. Funny.

“Do you understand? What you did could have dire consequences.” I didn’t know what consequences she spoke about. “I can tell you do not.” Sjur sighed. “No matter. Today is the first day of what your foreseeable future will hold. The Queen ordered you to join my Corsairs, and I will not deny her wishes. Yet you do not deserve to join the recruits just yet. No. I have other plans for you.”

My blood ran cold as my head played hundreds of scenarios of what was in store for me. “You would normally start as a private, but that would be a reward, not a punishment. Instead, you’ll work as a servant of sorts. Cleaning the sparring ring, shooting range and changing rooms each day. You’ll also be in charge of uniform and weapon maintenance.” In other words, I won’t be leaving the Reef for who knows how long. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Sjur cleared her throat, and her eyes narrowed. Right, I was in the army now. “Yes, Ma’am”

“Good. You are dismissed. Report to the training hall to collect your uniform and begin work.” I bowed my head before exiting the room as quickly as possible before I could get into any more trouble. 

Once the door closed, I sighed in relief that I didn’t get exiled after. That should help ease the burden of worry for Mom. Even more so when she finds out I won’t be an actual Corsair. That part sucked. 

“I don’t know what she’s hiding, but if Mara suspects something and if that Ahamkara is to be believed.” I froze when I heard Sjur’s voice in my head. At first, I thought she was speaking to me, but if that were true, she wouldn’t be talking about me. No, I heard her thoughts. I remember when I was out on that moon, I saw into my family’s mind, but this was different. This was happening now and not a delayed reaction. Running before I could get caught, I headed to the training hall to pick up my uniform and my marching orders.

My uniform was a set of workout pants paired with a few different tops. Same as any other Corsair. Nice to see. I’d look the part even if I wasn’t training. I walked past the sparring ring and stared in awe at the Corsairs fighting. One day, I’d be in the Queen’s good graces again and be in the ring until then.

“Aurora!” Someone hissed, and I looked up to see a crass-looking older lady. She stood tall even if she was shorter than me. Her black hair, greying at different parts, and white eyes pierced my soul. If I thought Sjur was threatening, this girl was worse. “You were supposed to report to me five minutes ago.”

I stood straight, arms at my side. “I am sorry. I was not informed about who I reported to other than Sjur.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Follow me.” Grabbing my bag, I chased after the lady, who moved fast for someone of her age. “I cannot believe that Sjur left me with you. Ugh. Why is it up to me to watch over a child that should have been exiled the moment she landed.” Wow, I didn’t know I had gained such notoriety. “But if it’s the Queen’s command.” The lady stopped abruptly, causing me to almost crash into her. “You can put your stuff here.” She motioned to the locker, and I hastily put my bag away.

[first-impressions-gaming]

Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising

Developed by Natsume Atari

Published by 505 Games

Release Date 2022

Tested on Xbox Series X

MSRP 14,99 USD

Imagine typical fetch quests (which are called ‘side missions’) in bland, boring, bloated and endless Ubisoft open world games (that’s right, I am winking at you Assassin’s Creed Valhalla), what would you say if I told you there is a whole game just made out of fetch quests? That’s right, that’s Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising in a nutshell. That has been a hard statement to make honestly, but this is what it is, I tried to hard to find a glimpse of something shining in this game to direct my impressions, sadly, there has been none.

I feel the need to stress that I only played 2 hours of this game (total playtime is around 13 hours, as per How Long To Beat It), therefore my opinion is more of ‘first impressions’ rather than a ‘review’, still I am calling this a review and I’ll explain myself more in depth as I’ll be discussing various aspects of the game.

Let’s start with the beginning, the story follows CJ, an adolescent self-exiled girl, who is a self-claimed ‘treasure hunter’, comes across a town on her way, she’s looking for some hot meal and a cosy bed to pass the night, in order to be accepted into this society she’s to complete chores (fetch quests), for citizens around the town, and you help rebuild buildings that were destroyed in recent devastating earthquakes.

At this point, everything looks promising, we, as CJ, are a vagabond young girl and we heed nobody in our way, we’re obstinate, hard-headed and decisive in our actions. With this personality, CJ is trying to hard to be accepted into this town, the acting-mayor of the town welcomes us by handing us a ‘stamp card’. This stamp card is to be filled with stamps that are given by townsfolk once we complete their requested fetch quests, this is necessary to obtain the ‘explorer’s licence’, a made-up licence similar to a working permit for a treasure hunter. In my 2-hour playtime, all I did was completing these fetch quests and sort-of main missions similar to fetch quests, and this progression is strictly linear because you are thrown at quests one after the other, there is no optional quests during this early-stage. When it comes to combat, it is pretty shallow actually, there is only one button for attack, don’t expect any fancy combos or character-specific skills or abilities.

For some missions, I thought the information displayed on the screen was missing. In the quest ‘Trouble in the Quarry’, the game doesn’t instruct you where to go on the screen, you need to head over to Active Quests in Quests menu, and it says it is ‘given by Karna. The Quarry’, you figure out you need to visit the Quarry to meet the relevant person. Why doesn’t it state which location to visit upon fulfilling the requirements? The need to check out by whom it is given by can be effortlessly removed, extra steps such as this are non-intuitive for players. Another case for inefficiency is this: two active quests for the same exact objective are displayed, ‘Trouble in the Quarry’s objective is ‘Complete Frida’s Quest’, and there is an already quest I am trying to accomplish, of which objective is Finding Paint for Frida. As far as I can understand, Trouble in the Quarry is an on-going main questline, whereas ‘An Armorer with an Eye for Fashion’ is a side quest, the game does not explain any of this, this must be the reason why two of them are displayed for the same objective.

Healing Potions can be found in Stowpack menu, which heals 500 HP, in order to see your exact HP you need to go Stats and Equipment menu, then return to Stowpack and use the consumable. You cannot see your exact HP in numbers or percentage in-game, that’s why there is at least three steps to go justo heal yourself. Healing your character is one of the most basic mechanics to do in a game, yet it is extremely cumbersome here.

After completing a fetch quest and helping rebuild Armor Shop you are to purchase/upgrade your armour, there are two options to choose from, which are Hunter Suit+ and Mercenary Armour+. In latter’s description, it mentions Garoo (our kangaroo teammate), so I gather this gear is for him, the thing is that Hunter Suit+ does not mention any character specifically, it would have been much better and helpful if the items had sated with which character the gear is compatible. The main issue comes from this: the gears display your stats and armour stats, if you don’t know for which character you are purchasing the item, how can you make a reasonable decision? In all its essence, the gear should be telling which item is for which character. 

The D-Pad buttons aren’t assigned to any control, I find this odd, it feels like a missed opportunity, the developers could have assigned shortcuts for Quests, Stowpack, Resource Bad or Storehouse which would have eliminated extra steps to access them.

Here are all the menus and sub-menus:

Stats and Equipment: here you find character stats and current gear

Stowpack: consumables such as health potions, balms to boost critical hits, attack speed temporarily.

Storehouse: Resources, Consumables, Accessories, Runes, Exploration Tools.

Resource Bag: Resources, Valuables

Just bear it with me, the menus are cluttered to the max, and they can be reduced in number for the better. For example, why is there two separate menus showing different consumables (in Stowpack and Storehouse), and these menus can be merged which would give the player a more intuitive and friendly experience. Stats and Equipment should list your accessories, runes, tools and as such, why would you need individual menus? As a player, I felt so lost in all these menus because it felt pretty pointless to have so many menus which harms the overall experience, there is one thing nobody can deny: if a design-choice or a mechanic hurts the user experience, it should be improved and upgraded, unfortunately I am leaving this game with a bad taste in my mouth. 

As I discussed so far, the UI leaves so much to be desired, let’s take two separate sub-menus which are titled ‘resources’, one of them in Storehouse, the other one in Resource Bag menus. First and foremost, the game does not teach you anything regarding these menus and why they exist for. I learned, by myself, that Resource Bag shows items you have looted so far in a hostile area, such as The Great Forest, the Quarry, once you extract from these locations, the items you looted are displayed as a list named ‘haul’. The thing is that you collect and loot various items yet there is zero explanation concerning where you can make use of them or how those items are valuable or beneficial to you.

Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising is a game that makes me appreciate good design choices in other games in terms of mechanics, user interface, progression, quest design. Personally, I haven’t had such a let-down experience recently this big, I wish all the best for the upcoming game in the series, Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes, which is to be released in April 2024, and learn from its mistakes and failures.

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

[memryse]

hello trafficblr! today i want to talk about red lives between 3rd life and last life - specifically through the lens of friendships and alliances. last life session 6 spoilers ahead!

the difference between the two series is fairly clear - from the very start of last life, it was made clear that all ties with red lives were to be cut, all alliances with them were cancelled. but let's look at this in a bit more detail.

3rd life saw its red lives remain in their preexisting alliances. from scar throwing flowers at grian and asking if they can still be friends, to bdubs intentionally going red to become cleo's weapon. ren turning red and proving his own loyalty to martyn, to dogwarts. jimmy becoming scott's completely nonthreatening bodyguard. skizz remaining dogwarts' most loyal knight. the list goes on, we all know about our red/green duos. in 3rd life, friendship was something that the red lives believed they had to earn with their green friends. they had to prove that they wouldn't hurt them, that they'd be useful to them, and the two of them worked together as equals. none of these reds even contemplated betraying their friends. sticking with a green was the best chance that they had at survival - and honestly? none of them particularly wanted to jump straight into murder. for out-of-universe reasons, yes, but we can interpret this as the bloodlust wasn't quite as strong in 3rd life. they could resist killing their allies.

in last life, however? whilst friendships are intended to be entirely cancelled, what's really happened is that the entire concept of friendship has been weaponised. in comparison to 3rd life, very little war between factions has occurred: it's essentially become the reds versus everyone else. the greens and yellows are simply fighting to survive, and they'll tolerate anyone who helps them with that. it's simple.

not so much for the reds.

as it turns out, turning red doesn't simply eliminate all of a person's feelings towards their former allies. but especially in conjunction with their allies having to exile them, what it does do is twist those feelings of friendships. red lives no longer feel like they have to earn their friendships, they don't feel like winning anyone's trust not to kill them. and they are desperately, desperately lonely. and the bloodlust relishes in it. tells them how easy it would be - just a tap and they could have their friend back! it'd be great! being red doesn't mean you have to be alone, why can't they see that? they can still be friends!

multiple red lives on the server have threatened to kill somebody to make a new friend. and friendships between red lives are not as easily formed as one might expect.

firstly, joel:

"oops. shot an arrow. now i have a friend!" - in chat, after killing grian. "grian, do you wanna be friends?" - the first thing he says to grian when they meet again.

grian:

"we can still be friends, mumbo!" - i... don't need to elaborate on this one, do i? it speaks for itself. but also that whole creepy bit where he runs around spawn singing "friendship is here, where are you? :)"

cleo.

"you could be my friend! you could have a friend, if you wanted to be red! and red's so much fun! [...] you should join me!" - to jimmy. at first she's not going to kill him, she thinks it'd be kind of pathetic, but then she realises the potential. they can be friends! have fun together! of course, cleo doesn't miss her past allies. they betrayed her. but that doesn't mean she wants to be alone.

bdubs.

"you're gonna join me as a red life. [...] today you join me! yes! you will. we can do this right now, where you could jump off the wall tw- very simple! [...] die twice, be red, we're together! [...] if you don't do that, i will take the two lives!" - trying to convince etho to go red so that they can still be friends. "all you have to do is just stumble off a cliff, right off the side, and boom! we're back, baby! and it's way funner on this side, trust me." - trying to do the same to skizz.

mumbo.

"you wouldn't hurt me. i'm just a fellow southerner, i've got my spyglass..." - as he's tormenting the southerners after trying to kill them. "that's the second time! he's just got it out for me!" - grian, during that same conversation. mumbo spends practically the entire episode - especially the part when he's alone as a red life - trying to kill the southlanders, especially grian, who's dangerously close to going red again.

jimmy and lizzie both find one another relatively quickly, and team up for the rest of the session. neither of them have much of an opportunity to be lonely - however, both of them do express how much they miss their former alliances (with jimmy even begging martyn for a life). interestingly, with these two, their desperation for friendship is used against them: grian's psychological warfare against the reds plays into it. he tells both factions of reds that the other doesn't want to ally with them and is planning to kill them. for reds who have no one (and have nothing too in jimmy's case), this is unbearable.

the only exception is scar. who never had any friends to win back in the first place. who very possibly went red deliberately (the first time at least. but threatened to go red beforehand both times) and immediately turns fully malicious against practically the whole server. he is also the only one to immediately go after an enemy with nothing but killing intent in mind - even grian had the ulterior motive of getting a life from scar.

and even scar joins in with mumbo chanting "friend! friend!" when they meet again as reds. he's lonely. he wants friends. but unlike the others he just doesn't have anyone in mind to lament losing.

[fannish-karmiya]

Wei Wuxian’s Position in the Jiang Household

Fandom tends to mischaracterise Wei Wuxian’s position in the Jiang family greatly. A lot of people project more modern ideas about adoption onto his relationship with the Jiang siblings, and write as if he really is their sibling and only Yu Ziyuan’s abusive nature gets in the way of their bond.

This strikes me as a bit misguided. While adoption was practised in ancient China, it was mainly for the purpose of obtaining a male heir in the absence of one, or obtaining more daughters to marry off for alliances. Jiang Fengmian had no reason to adopt Wei Wuxian into the main family, and he didn’t. Wei Wuxian’s position in the household is far more nebulous than that, and honestly it’s hard to find an exact corollary, in Chinese history or in any culture, precisely because it was so messy and ill-defined.

A Companion to Upper Class Children

Wei Wuxian is the son of a servant of Yunmeng Jiang; it’s notable that Wei Changze is always referred to this way, rather than as a disciple. Wei Changze wound up leaving the sect in order to marry Cangse Sanren, and Jiang Fengmian considered them dear enough friends that when he heard they passed away, he spent years searching for their orphaned son. He wound up finding Wei Wuxian on the streets of Yiling and brought him home as his ward.

Wei WuXian was taken home by Jiang FengMian when he was nine.

Most memories from back then were already blurred. Yet, Jin Ling’s mother, Jiang YanLi, remembered all of them, and even told him quite a few.

She said that, after his father heard of the news that his parents both died in battle, he had always dedicated himself to finding the child that these past friends had left behind. After searching for a while, he finally found the child in Yiling.

(Chapter 24, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear from the start that beyond this sense of obligation to his old friends, Jiang Fengmian also had a role set out for Wei Wuxian: he wanted him to be a companion to his children, and Jiang Cheng in particular.

He encourages a friendship between them, insisting on a sleepover between the two a week into Wei Wuxian’s stay.

On the second day, Jiang Cheng’s puppies were given to someone else.

This angered Jiang Cheng so much that he threw a big tantrum. No matter how much Jiang FengMian comforted him gently, telling him that they should ‘be good friends’, he refused to talk to Wei WuXian. Quite a few days later, Jiang Cheng’s attitude softened. Jiang FengMian wanted to strike while the iron was still hot, so he told Wei WuXian to sleep in the same room as him, hoping that they’d grow fonder of each other.

[...]

That night, Jiang Cheng locked Wei WuXian outside his room, refusing to let him in.

[...]

Wei WuXian waited outside for a long time. When the door opened, before the joy could spread onto his face, he was bombarded with a pile of things being thrown out. The door banged shut again.

Jiang Cheng told him from inside, “Go sleep somewhere else! This is my room! You’re even gonna steal my room?!”

[...]

Standing outside, as Wei WuXian heard that dogs would come bite him, fear immediately bubbled within him. Twisting his fingers, he hurried, “I’ll go, I’ll go. Don’t call the dogs!”

Dragging behind him the sheets and blanket that were thrown outside, he ran out the hall. Having only arrived at Lotus Pier for a short period of time, he didn’t dare jump around yet. Every day, he obediently holed up in the places that Jiang FengMian told him to stay at. He didn’t even know where his room was, much less have the courage to knock on other people’s doors, scared that it’d disturb someone’s dreams.

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

After Jiang Cheng is worried about getting in trouble, he goes to Jiang Yanli for help, and she searches for Wei Wuxian.

But this was the first pair of shoes that Jiang FengMian bought him. Wei WuXian was too embarrassed to make him go out of his way to buy another pair, and so he said that they weren’t too big. Jiang YanLi helped him into his shoe and pressed the hollow tip, “It is a bit big. I’ll fix it for you when we get back.”

Hearing this, Wei WuXian felt somewhat uneasy, as if he did something wrong again.

Living in other people’s homes, the worst that could happen was to make trouble for the hosts.

Jiang YanLi put him onto her back and began to walk back, wobbling in her steps as she spoke, “A-Ying, no matter what A-Cheng said to you, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a good temper, so he’s always home playing with himself. Those puppies were his favorites. Dad sent them away, and so he’s feeling upset. He’s actually really happy that somebody’s here to be with him.”

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

Later, Wei Wuxian offers to cover for him, saying simply that he ran outside by himself because he was scared. In this one case it feels like a genuine instance of children showing solidarity and covering for each other’s little misbehaviours. But it also follows a pattern of Wei Wuxian doing this and making excuses, time and time again, for Jiang Cheng. I wonder if on some level, he already knew that his role in the household was in part to be a companion-servant to Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian normally never puts up with people treating him poorly or being arrogant; he constantly bites his tongue when Jiang Cheng does so around him. While they study at Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng frequently insults Wei Wuxian, who always just smiles and laughs it off.

Jiang Cheng humphed, “Him? He wakes at nine in the morning and sleeps at one during the night. When he wakes up, he doesn’t practice his sword or meditate; he goes boating, swims around, picks lotus seedpods, and hunts for pheasants.”

Wei WuXian replied, “No matter how much pheasants I hunt, I’m still number one.”

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng scolded with a darkened expression, “What are you proud of?! What is there to be proud of with this?! Do you think that it’s a glorious thing to be told by someone to get lost? You bring so much shame upon our sect!”

(Chapter 16, Exiled Rebels translation)

We never see Wei Wuxian excusing this sort of behaviour from any other character; he has no problem scolding Jin Ling for his arrogant attitude and telling him that he shouldn’t be imitating his uncle, after all! It’s only where Jiang Cheng is concerned that he does this, and honestly, even then he seems to be quite aware that Jiang Cheng’s behaviour is wrong; he simply accepts on some level that it’s his role in the household to put up with it.

He actually does, very gently, try to guide Jiang Cheng at times. In Lotus Seed Pods, for example, he tries to give Jiang Cheng advice on how to flirt with some of the maidens in Yunmeng and make friends:

Wei WuXian threw the seed pods toward the shore. It was a far distance, but they landed lightly in the women’s hands. He grabbed a few more and stuffed them into Jiang Cheng’s arms, shoving, “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”

After a few shoves, Jiang Cheng could only accept them, “Hurry up and do what?”

Wei WuXian, “You ate the watermelon too, so you also have to return the gift, don’t you? Here, here, don’t be embarrassed. Start throwing, start throwing.”

Jiang Cheng snorted again, “You must be joking. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Whatever he said, however, even after all of the shidi began to throw seed pods, he still didn’t start to move. Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!”

[...]

Jiang Cheng was just about to throw one when he realized how shameless it was the moment he heard it. He peeled a seed pod and ate it by himself.

[...]

After a while of laughter, he turned around and looked at Jiang Cheng, who was sitting at the front of the boat eating seed pods with a long face. His smile gradually disappeared as he sighed, “Well, what an unteachable child.”

Jiang Cheng fumed, “So what if I want to eat alone?”

Wei WuXian, “Look at you, Jiang Cheng. Nevermind. You’re hopeless. Just wait to eat alone your whole life!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even sighs rather disappointedly when Jiang Cheng refuses to take the hint; he knows that Jiang Cheng’s sullen behaviour is going to make him miserable down the line, but all of his gentle efforts to nudge him in a better direction have failed.

He also speaks with great awareness of Jiang Cheng’s flaws after the fight in the ancestral hall:

Wei WuXian reached out with one hand and massaged his chest, as if trying to break up the pent-up feeling inside his heart. A moment later, he blurted, “I knew Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have let us go so easily. That brat… How could this be?!”

[...]

Wei WuXian’s eyelids throbbed, “Every one of them. The brat’s been like this ever since he was young.He’ll say anything when he’s angry, no matter how bad it is. He gives up on all grace and discipline whatsoever. As long as it’d annoy whomever he’s against, he’d say it no matter what terrible insults he uses. After all these years, he hasn’t gotten better at all. Please don’t take it to heart.”

(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is so interesting to me, because it really makes it clear that Wei Wuxian has always been aware of these flaws of Jiang Cheng’s. He hasn’t been viewing him through rose-coloured lenses or making excuses for him because he’s ‘family’. He puts up with Jiang Cheng’s behaviour because being his companion is one of his duties in the Jiang household. It may never have been directly stated, but there seems to be some unspoken understanding to this effect.

I honestly don’t know if there is any official role in history (in any culture, not just China) which perfectly correlates to this. In China a lady’s maid was expected to also be a close friend and companion to her mistress (in canon, see Bicao to Qin-furen and Yinzhu and Jinzhu to Yu-furen). In Europe an upper class woman would hire a lady’s companion, a woman from the lower fringes of the gentry who would serve as her companion in exchange for financial support.

I don’t know of any version of this role which involves two men. In general, this sort of role existed because upper class women were confined to the household by and large, and had very limited social spheres. Men, meanwhile, had much greater ability to meet with their peers and make friends. I almost feel like Wei Wuxian wound up being shoved into this role simply because even as a child Jiang Cheng was so unsociable that Jiang Fengmian didn’t know what else to do!

Wei Wuxian also at least once steps in and starts a fight in place of Jiang Cheng (essentially taking the fall for him). He does this when Jin Zixuan speaks disparagingly of Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses:

Jin ZiXuan asked in reply, “Why don’t you ask me how on Earth can I be satisfied with her?”

Jiang Cheng instantly stood up.

Pushing him to the side, Wei WuXian walked in front of him and sneered, “You sure think that you’re pretty satisfying, don’t you? Where did you get the guts to be all choosy here?”

[...]

Wei WuXian sighed, “… It’d be nice if shijie came. It’s fortunate that you didn’t hit him.”

Jiang Cheng, “I was going to. If you didn’t push me, the other side of Jin ZiXuan’s face would also be ruined.”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s also very notable that Wei Wuxian is never shown having friends outside of Jiang Cheng’s social circle, despite what an outgoing and friendly person he is. Any time he expresses interest in someone for himself, as with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng tries to nip it in the bud. Being unable to deter Wei Wuxian from Lan Wangji directly, Jiang Cheng instead tries to drive a wedge between them, constantly telling Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji hates him.

“Yeah,” Nie HuaiSang spoke, “It looks like he really hates you, Wei-xiong. Lan WangJi usually… No, he never does something so impolite.”

Wei WuXian, “He hates me already? I wanted to apologize to him.”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Apologizing now? Too late! Like his uncle, he surely thinks that you are evil and unruly to the core, and didn’t bother to pay you any attention.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng pulled him even closer, “It’s not as if you’re familiar with him! Don’t you see how much he hates you? You’re going to carry him? He probably doesn’t even want you a step closer to him.”

(Chapter 52, Exiled Rebels translation)

He even directly orders Wei Wuxian not to invite Lan Wangji to come visit him at Lotus Pier during the Lotus Seed Pod extra.

Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”

Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not only Lan Wangji he tries to steer Wei Wuxian away from; he also interrupts his conversation with Wen Ning at the archery competition:

Wen QiongLin was probably one of Wen Clan’s disciples furthest in bloodline. His status was neither high nor low, yet his personality was timid. He didn’t dare do anything and even his speech stuttered. Through much practice, he had finally conjured up the courage to enter the competition, but he blew it because he was too nervous. If he didn’t receive the right guidance, perhaps the boy would hide his true self more and more from now on and never dare to perform in front of other people again. Wei WuXian encouraged him a couple of times and touched on a few areas of growth, correcting some miniscule problems that he had when he was shooting in the garden. Wen QiongLin listened so attentively that he didn’t even turn his eyes away, nodding uncontrollably.

Jiang Cheng, “Where did you find so much nonsense? The competition is starting soon. Get into the arena right now!”

Wei WuXian spoke to Wen QiongLin in a serious tone, “I’ll be off to the competition now. Later, you can see how I shoot when I’m in the arena…”

Jiang Cheng dragged him away, short of patience. He spat as he dragged, “See how you shoot? Do you think that you’re a model or something?!”

(Chapter 59, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even when it comes to Wei Wuxian’s friendly flirtation with Mianmian, Jiang Cheng has something to say and tries to deter him from her:

Jiang Cheng, “The one that MianMian gave you? I didn’t.”

Wei WuXian exclaimed his regret, “I’ll find her for another one later.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, “You’re at it again. You don’t really like her, do you? The girl does look fine, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t have much background. Maybe she isn’t even a disciple. She seems like the daughter of a servant.”

Wei WuXian, “What’s wrong with servants? I’m also the son of a servant, aren’t I?”

Jiang Cheng, “How can you compare to her? Whose servant is like you, having your master peel lotus seeds for you and boil you soup. I didn’t even get to have some!”

(Chapter 56, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng really does seem to view Wei Wuxian in a very proprietary light; he’s not allowed to have any friendships which don’t exist under Jiang Cheng’s direct control.

The idea that Wei Wuxian was meant to be Jiang Cheng’s servant-friend is reinforced at its darkest when Lotus Pier falls: both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian’s last words to Wei Wuxian are an instruction to protect Jiang Cheng.

One hand holding him, Madam Yu grabbed Wei WuXian’s lapels with her other hand as though to strangle him to death. She spoke through clenched teeth, “… You damn little brat! I hate you! I hate you more than anything else! Look at what our sect has gone through for your sake!”

[...]

Madam Yu, “Don’t make such a fuss. It’ll loosen up when you’re somewhere safe. If anyone attacks you on the journey, it’ll protect you as well. Don’t come back. Go to Meishan straight away and find your sister!”

After she finished, she turned to Wei WuXian and pointed at him, “Wei Ying! Listen to me! Protect Jiang Cheng, protect him even if you die, do you understand?!”

[...]

Jiang FengMian stared into his eyes. Suddenly, he reached out. Only after pausing in the air did he finally touch Jiang Cheng’s head, slowly, “A-Cheng, be well.”

Wei WuXian, “Uncle Jiang, if anything happens to you, he won’t be well.”

Jiang FengMian turned his eyes to him, “A-Ying, A-Cheng… you must look after him.”

(Chapter 58, Exiled Rebels translation)

Even Jiang Fengmian, who supposedly favoured Wei Wuxian, only gives him instructions as pertains to his own son; he doesn’t spare a single last word for Wei Wuxian himself.

A Lower Status Family Member

It wasn’t uncommon throughout human history, across many cultures, for wealthy families to take in relatives who were orphaned or had otherwise fallen on hard times. They tended to have a lower status than the main family; they lived with them and were still a part of their social sphere, but were not quite equal, either. The English term for this is ‘poor relation’.

Obviously, Wei Wuxian isn’t actually a blood relative at all. But his position in the Jiang household definitely has some similarities. He lives in the main house, eats meals with the family, attends school with the son... He is even on some conditional levels accepted into the gentry of cultivation society. But he isn’t a full equal member of the family, either.

The fact that he’s Jiang Fengmian’s ward, not a blood relative or adopted into the main family, puts him at even more of a disadvantage. It seems that Jiang Fengmian paid for all of Wei Wuxian’s expenses:

Wei WuXian took a bite, “Back then, I didn’t even have to pay when I ate at the dock. I grabbed whatever I wanted, ate whatever I wanted; ran after I grabbed, walked as I ate. A month later, the vendor would get the reimbursement from Uncle Jiang.”

(Chapter 86, Exiled Rebels translation)

While this is a bit of conjecture, I gather that he was given access to family money as if he was part of the clan, and could just charge Yunmeng Jiang whenever he shopped in Lotus Pier. Which is great so long as Wei Wuxian is accepted in Yunmeng Jiang...but as we see during the Burial Mounds settlement period, the moment that acceptance fades, Wei Wuxian is left out in the cold without a single coin. And because he isn’t a member of the family, it’s a far easier matter for him to be thrown aside, as he was when Jiang Cheng grew angry with him over his decision to protect the Wens.

Of course, Chinese families traditionally did share their wealth, and still do nowadays. Ideally, in a loving family, this is a positive and means they all support each other; but when that isn’t the case, it leaves the victims of abuse vulnerable.

In Wei Wuxian’s case, he has some of the benefits of being a member of the Jiang clan, without ever actually being a member. He can be cast aside at any time, and he is never afforded the same respect by wider cultivation society which an inner clan member would have.

I don’t believe the novel ever directly addresses Wei Wuxian’s acceptance into the guest lectures at Cloud Recesses in this light, but the donghua actually has a very interesting little exchange about it which takes place between Nie Huaisang and a relative of his:

“Wei-xiong is just a disciple from Yunmeng. Why could he come to Gusu to study?”

“Wei-xiong is the son of Jiang-zongzhu’s old friend. He has been treated as their own son.”

“Oh, I see. That explains why they don’t look like master and servant, they seem like brothers.���

(MDZS Donghua, Episode 3, Guodong Subs)

Wei Wuxian was only allowed to attend these lectures, which seem to mainly be for sect heirs and inner clan members, on the grace of being Jiang Fengmian’s ward (and probably to accompany Jiang Cheng). While this exchange is not from the book, we never do see or hear about any of the other students being outer disciples rather than members of the main clan. Here’s what the novel had to say about it:

In that year, aside from the YunmengJiang Sect, there were also the young masters from other clans, sent to study here from parents who heard of the reputation. The young masters were all around fifteen or sixteen. Because the sects all knew the others, although they weren’t close, they had seen others’ faces before. It was widely known that, although Wei WuXian’s surname was not Jiang, he was the leading disciple of the sect leader of the YunmengJiang Sect—Jiang FengMian, and also the son of his friend who had passed away. In fact, the sect leader regarded him as his own child. This, along with how youths were not as concerned with status and ancestry as elders, they were soon friends. Only a few sentences passed, and everyone started to call others older brothers or younger brothers.

(Chapter 13, Exiled Rebels translation)

And Wei Wuxian isn’t treated as an equal at school, either; when he and his friends get up to mischief, he’s frequently the only one punished. Nie Huaisang even notes that Lan Qiren seems to be far harder on him than the other students:

Nie HuaiSang spoke, “Why does it seem like old man Lan is especially strict towards you? He always directs his scoldings at you.”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

And we see Wei Wuxian being the sole one punished out of a group taken for granted by his friends multiple times:

As a result of cheating notes flying everywhere in the air, Lan WangJi suddenly attacked during the test, and caught a few initiators of the commotion. Lan QiRen exploded with anger, writing letters to the prominent clans to tell on them. He loathed Wei WuXian—in the beginning, although these disciples could hardly sit still, at least nobody started anything, and their buttocks were able to stick to their legs. However, now that Wei Ying came, the originally spineless brats were influenced by his encouragement, venturing out at night and drinking alcohol however they pleased. The unhealthy practices grew greater and greater. As he had expected, Wei Ying was one of the biggest threats to humanity!

Jiang FengMian replied, “Ying has always been like this. Please take care to discipline him, Mr. Lan.”

And so, Wei WuXian was punished again.

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

The boys were all cheating, but Wei Wuxian is the one punished most severely. This happens when he's caught sneaking alcohol, too (though to be fair to Lan Wangji, he probably was only punishing him, and himself alongside him, for being outside after curfew when he threw them off the wall).

Of course, Jiang Cheng didn’t dare to say that Wei WuXian was at fault. Thinking back, it was them who urged Wei WuXian to buy liquor. Each and every one of them should have been punished. He could only speak in a vague way, “It’s fine, it’s fine; it’s not that serious! He can walk. Wei WuXian, why are you still up there?!”

(Chapter 18, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s not entirely unreasonable for the one who gets caught to take the punishment (what’s he going to do, rat his friends out?) but their ready acceptance of this does fit into a pattern.

Jiang Cheng’s top was tied at his waist. Hearing his mother’s chastise, he hastily put it over his head. Madam Yu scolded again, “And you boys! Can’t you see that A-Li’s here? Who taught you brats to dress like this in front of a girl!?”

Of course, it was needless to think who led the group. Thus, Madam Yu’s next sentence, as usual, was “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”

[...]

He could still feel some pain in his back, so he tossed the paddles to someone else, sat down, and felt the stinging piece of flesh, “How unfair. Nobody else was wearing anything, but why was I the only one who got scolded and beaten up?”

Jiang Cheng, “Because you hurt the eye the most with no clothes on, for sure.”

[...]

Everyone nodded. Wei WuXian, “Thanks for the praise, you guys. I’m even starting to feel some goose bumps.”

The shidi, “You’re welcome, Da-Shixiong. You protect us every single time. You deserve even more!”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

While we know that Yu Ziyuan is an abusive person in general, she abuses Wei Wuxian far more harshly than anyone else, even the outer disciples. It’s made clear to us in Lotus Seed Pods that she whips him regularly over minor infractions:

Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

And that his back is heavily scarred from it:

He felt his back, covered in scars both old and new, and still couldn’t hold back the question he’d be thinking about, “How awfully unfair. Why is it that I’m the only one who gets beaten up, whenever something happens?”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

Rumours about this even made it outside of Lotus Pier; during their visit to the ancestral hall years later, Lan Wangji even states that he heard about some of it:

Lan WangJi had on an expression of understanding, “Kneeling as punishment?”

Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.”

Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.”

Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha…”

(Chapter 87, Exiled Rebels translation)

Wei Wuxian’s lower social standing is definitely a part of why Yu Ziyuan is able to abuse him so terribly and receive little to no censure for it. Everyone at Lotus Pier simply takes it for granted, with the exception of Jiang Yanli who at least does try to deflect her mother when she is angry with Wei Wuxian:

Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon…”

[...]

Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them… Do… Do you want some watermelon… I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you…”

(Chapter 125, Lotus Seed Pod, Exiled Rebels translation)

She both tries to deflect her mother from her anger, and also outright states that Wei Wuxian and the other boys weren’t at fault. Jiang Yanli seems to be the only one at Lotus Pier who ever does this.

After the war, Wei Wuxian attends social events at Jiang Cheng’s side but is never quite treated as an equal, either. See how at the Flower Banquet, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue greet Jiang Cheng but not him:

Suddenly, a voice spoke, “Sect Leader Nie, Sect Leader Lan.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Wei WuXian’s heart jumped. Nie MingJue turned around again. Jiang Cheng came over, dressed in purple, hand on his sword.

And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei WuXian himself.

He saw himself walk with hands behind his back, wearing all black. A flute in the shade of ink stuck to his waist, hanging down with crimson colored tassels. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction to show respect. Attitude slightly arrogant, he took on a profound, disdainful appearance. As Wei WuXian saw the stance of his younger self, the root of his teeth even cringed in soreness. He felt that he really was pretentious, and itched to just beat the hell out of himself.

Lan WangJi also saw Wei WuXian, who stood beside Jiang Cheng. The tip of his brows twitched ever so slightly. Soon afterward, his light-colored eyes returned to where they were, still looking forward in that composed way. Jiang Cheng and Nie MingJue nodded at each other with grave faces. Neither had anything unnecessary to say. After a hasty greeting, the two walked their separate ways. Wei WuXian saw his black-clothed self glance around as he finally saw Lan WangJi. He looked as if he was about to speak before Jiang Cheng came over and stood to his side.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

They then proceed to talk about him and his lack of a sword behind his back, never having said a word to Wei Wuxian himself:

Nie MingJue’s gaze turned over again, “Why does Wei Ying not carry his sword?”

Carrying one’s sword was like wearing formal attire. In such gatherings, it was a non-negligible indication of etiquette. Those from prominent sects saw it as especially important. Lan WangJi responded in a lukewarm tone, “He had probably forgotten.”

Ning MingJue raised a brow, “He can even forget something like this?”

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

At Phoenix Mountain it also seems that Wei Wuxian is conditionally a member of the gentry, but not treated like an equal. Sometimes there are these more cheerful interactions:

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

(Chapter 69, Exiled Rebels translation)

But then he will be publicly disparaged and it is readily accepted by others. Jin Zixun first starts an argument with him by criticising Wei Wuxian for fighting Jin Zixuan, then turns the topic to Wei Wuxian’s having taken a third of the prey in the hunt.

Jin ZiXun, “Wei, just what what do you mean by going against ZiXuan so many times?”

[...]

Jin ZiXun sneered, “How is it presumptuous? How is any part of you not presumptuous? Today, in such an important hunt involving all of the sects, you really showed off your abilities, didn’t you? One third of the prey have been taken by you. You sure feel pleased, don’t you?”

[...]

He mocked, “But it’s only natural that you don’t think you’re in the wrong. It’s not the first time that Young Master Wei has disregarded the rules. You didn’t wear your sword in both last time’s flower banquet and this time’s hunt. It’s such a grand event, and you care nothing for courtesy. In what regard to you hold us, the people who are present with you?”

[...]

No disciple had ever dared say such lofty words in front of so many people. A moment later, as Jin ZiXun finally regained his composure, he yelled, “Wei WuXian! You’re only the son of a servant—how dare you be so bold!!!”

(Chapters 69-70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Naturally, Jin Zixun is able to weasel out of giving an apology, even though Jiang Yanli demands one. And guess who also takes a third of the prey, but this time without any censure?

Jin GuangYao, “In reality, not only did Young Master Wei keep a third of the prey to himself, our eldest brother has eliminated over half of the fays and the monsters as well.”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen laughed, “That is how Brother is like, after all.”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Never a Brother

As I’ve already mentioned, Wei Wuxian was never adopted by Jiang Fengmian, or adopted into the clan in general in even a distant way. And this nebulous ‘we’re letting you live with the main family as a charity, but you aren’t really one of us’ attitude also reflects in his relationship with Jiang Yanli.

I’ve already discussed how Wei Wuxian was more like a companion servant to Jiang Cheng than a brother. It’s also worth noting quickly that neither of them ever refers to the other as a brother. Wei Wuxian refers to Jiang Cheng as his shidi a few times, and Jiang Cheng never even refers to him as his shixiong (because Jiang Cheng views him as his servant, not as even a martial brother, I’d argue).

Only one member of the Jiang family ever does use familial terms to refer to Wei Wuxian: his shijie, Jiang Yanli. At Phoenix Mountain, when Wei Wuxian is being insulted by Jin Zixun, Jiang Yanli stands up and defends him, and states clearly that she considers Wei Wuxian a little brother:

The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.

Jiang YanLi added, “Besides, hunting is hunting, so why bring the matter of discipline to the table? A-Xian is a disciple of the YunmengJiang Sect. He grew up with my brother and I, and so he’s as close as a brother is to me. Calling him the ‘son of a servant’—I’m sorry, but I won’t accept this. And thus…”

She straightened her back and raised her voice, “I hope that Young Master Jin ZiXun would apologize to Wei WuXian of the YunmengJiang Sect!”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

It doesn’t come through in the Exiled Rebels translation, but she actually refers to Wei Wuxian as her didi in this scene, not her shidi. She’s trying to draw a line and state that Wei Wuxian is a part of the family. However, no one takes her seriously, and shortly afterwards we see Jin-furen insisting that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be walking alone together because it would be inappropriate.

Jiang YanLi whispered, “That’s not necessary. I’d like to have a few words with A-Xian. He can walk me back.”

Madam Jin raised her brows, looking Wei WuXian up and down. Her gaze was somewhat cautious, as if she was feeling displeased, “A young man and a young woman—you two can’t stick together all the time if nobody else is present.”

Jiang YanLi, “A-Xian is my younger brother.”

[...]

Wei WuXian lowered his head, “Excuse my absence, Madam Jin.”

He and Jiang YanLi bowed at the same time. As they turned around to leave, Madam Jin grabbed Jiang YanLi’s hand and refused to let her leave.

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jin Zixuan also never treats Wei Wuxian the way one might a brother who is still angered with him over his past dismissive treatment of his sister. For example, see their argument at the Flower Banquet:

Before he could see how Lan WangJi reacted, a series of clamor suddenly came from the other end of the base. Wei WuXian heard his own raging shout, “Jin ZiXuan! Don’t you forget about what things you said and what things you did? What do you mean by this, now?!”

Wei WuXian remembered. So it was this time!

On the other side, Jin ZiXuan also fumed, “I was asking Sect Leader Jiang, not you! The one I was asking about was also Maiden Jiang. How is that related to you?!”

[...]

Jin ZiXuan, “Sect Leader Jiang—this is our sect’s flower banquet, and this is your sect’s person! Are you going to look after him or not?!”

[...]

...Jiang Cheng’s voice came, “Wei WuXian, you can just shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, I’m sorry. My sister is doing quite well. Thank you for your concern. We can talk about this next time.”

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “Next time? There is no next time! Whether or not she’s doing well isn’t any of his business, either! Who does he think he is?”

He turned around and started to leave. Jiang Cheng shouted, “Get back here! Where are you going?”

Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Anywhere is fine! Just don’t let me see that face of his. I never wanted to come, anyway. You can deal with whatever’s here yourself.”

Having been abandoned by Wei WuXian, Jiang Cheng’s face immediately clouded over.

[...]

Jiang Cheng stowed away the clouds on his face, “Don’t mind him. Look at how impolite he is. He’s used to such rude behavior at home.”

He then began to converse with Jin ZiXuan.

(Chapter 49, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jiang Cheng also quietly dismisses the notion of Wei Wuxian as a brother in relation to Jiang Yanli; when they visit to show him her wedding dress and she asks for a courtesy name, Jiang Cheng specifically says:

Jiang Cheng, “The courtesy name of my unborn nephew.”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Not our nephew, mine.

Even the disastrous invitation to Jin Ling’s one month celebration is framed as a favour to an old shidi, not a family member:

Jin ZiXun, “Since you’ve heard it from him already, you should know that I can’t wait. Don’t tell me that you’ll disregard your brother’s life for the sake of Sister-in-Law’s shidi?!”

Jin ZiXuan, “You clearly know that I’m not that kind of person! He might not necessarily be the one who cursed you with Hundred Holes either. Why are you so rash? I was the one who invited Wei WuXian to A-Ling’s full-month celebration anyways. If this is the way you do things, where does that leave me? Where does it leave my wife?”

Jin ZiXun raised his voice, “It’s best if he doesn’t attend! What does Wei WuXian think he is—does he deserve to attend our sect’s banquet? Whoever touches him gets nothing but a splash of black! ZiXuan, when you invited him, weren’t you worried that you, Sister-in-Law and A-Ling would receive an irremovable stain for the rest of your lives?!”

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s clear that not only does wider society not consider Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs siblings...they themselves don’t, either. Wei Wuxian, after all, readily accepts that his relationship with them is over after he leaves the sect:

Before they parted, Jiang Cheng spoke, “We won’t see you off. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw us.”

Wei WuXian nodded. He understood that it wasn’t easy for the Jiang siblings to have come out here. If someone else saw them, all those things they did for the public to believe would be wasted. He spoke, “We’ll go first.”

[...]

He turned around, knowing that it’d be a long time before he’d get to see the people he was familiar with again.

But… right now, wasn’t he on his way to seeing people he was familiar with as well?

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Cast Aside

The way cultivation society treats Wei Wuxian when he is not with the Jiangs is also very revealing. Any level of respect he is given is contingent on his position in the Jiang household, and when they aren’t around that minimal respect fades away. Look at how disrespectfully he is treated when he approaches Jin Zixun to ask for Wen Ning’s location.

Wei WuXian didn’t make small talk either, getting straight to the point, “No thanks. I don’t.” He nodded slightly at Jin ZiXun, “Young Master Jin, could I please have a word with you?”

Jin ZiXun, “If you have anything to say, come after our banquet is over.”

In reality, he didn’t want to talk to Wei WuXian at all. Wei WuXian could see this as well, “How long do I have to wait?”

Jin ZiXun, “Probably around six to eight hours. Or maybe ten to twelve. Or until tomorrow.”

Wei WuXian, “I’m afraid I can’t wait for that long.”

Jin ZiXun’s voice was arrogant, “You’ll have to wait even if you can’t.”

Jin GuangYao, “Young Master Wei, what do you need ZiXun for? Is it a pressing matter?”

Wei WuXian, “Pressing indeed. It allows for no delay.”

[...]

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

Wei WuXian wore a broad grin, “Since when is it your business whether I’d like to stand up for him or cut his head off? Just give him to me!”

At the last sentence, the grin on his face vanished. His tone turned cold as well. It was clear that he had lost his patience. Many of the people within Glamor Hal shivered in fear. Jin ZiXun felt his scalp tingle as well. Yet, his anger soon soared. He shouted, “Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”

Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”

[...]

Just as he was about to rebut, sitting on the foremost seat, Jin GuangShan spoke up.

His voice seemed kind, “It’s not anything too important anyways. You youngsters, why lose your tempers over such a thing? However, Young Master Wei, let me be fair here. Barging in when the LanlingJin Sect is holding a private banquet is indeed inappropriate.”

To say that Jin GuangShan didn’t mind what happened at Phoenix Mountain would be impossible. This was also why he only smiled when Jin ZiXun bickered with Wei WuXian but didn’t stop them, and only spoke up when Jin ZiXun was at the disadvantage.

Wei WuXian nodded, “Sect Leader Jin, it was never my intention to disturb your private banquet. My apologies. However, the whereabouts of the people whom Young Master Jin took are still unclear. Just a moment of delay, and it might be too late. One of the group had once saved me before. I will definitely not sit back and watch. Please do not feel pressured. I will make amends for this at a later date.”

[...]

After a few laughs, he continued, “Sect Leader Jin, let me ask you something else. Do you think that, because the QishanWen Sect is gone, the LanlingJin Sect has all right to replace it?”

All was silent within Glamor Hall.

Wei WuXian added, “Everything has to be given to you? Everyone has to listen to you? Looking at how the LanlingJin Sect does things, I almost thought that it was the QishanWen Sect’s empire all over again.”

[...]

A guest cultivator on his right shouted, “Wei WuXian! Watch your words!”

Wei WuXian, “Did I say something wrong? Forcing living people to be bait and beating them up whenever they refused to obey—is this any different from what the QishanWen Sect does?”

Another guest cultivator stood up, “Of course it’s different. The Wen-dogs did all kinds of evil. To arrive at such an end is only karma for them. We only avenged a tooth for a tooth, letting them taste the fruit that they themselves had sown. What’s wrong with this?”

Wei WuXian, “Take revenge on the ones who bite you. Wen Ning’s branch doesn’t have much blood on their hands. Don’t tell me that you find them guilty by association?”

Another person spoke, “Young Master Wei, is it that they don’t have much blood on their hands just because you say so? These are only your one-sided words. Where’s the evidence?”

[...]

Jin GuangShan stood up as well, his face a mixture of shock, anger, fear, and hatred, “Wei WuXian! Just because… Sect Leader Jiang isn’t here doesn’t mean you can be so reckless!”

Wei WuXian’s voice was harsh, “Do you think that I wouldn’t be reckless if he were here? If I wanted to kill someone, who could stop me, and who would dare stop me?!”

[...]

“Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Lan XiChen seemed as if he was deep in thought, “Young Master Wei’s heart really has changed.”

(Chapter 72, Exiled Rebels translation)

The only person at this banquet who speaks to Wei Wuxian respectfully is Jin Guangyao, a consummate manipulator who is also of a lower social status. Everyone else speaks to him dismissively, refusing to respect his request for Wen Ning’s location even though he states that Wen Ning helped him during the war. Wei Wuxian is extremely polite at the beginning of this conversation, and only slowly begins to lose his temper when Jin Zixun speaks rudely and Jin Guangshan decides to bring up the matter of the Yinhufu (Wei Wuxian is right in suspecting him of wanting to replace Qishan Wen, of course, and that it’s very bold of them to think they have the right to a spiritual tool of his just because...they’re rich?).

When the sects meet at Koi Tower to discuss the breakout at Qiongqi Path, no one considers Wei Wuxian as an independent agent who they might actually want to meet and negotiate with themselves. He is a wayward servant of Yunmeng Jiang who the sect leader has failed to keep in hand.

Jiang Cheng only spoke after a few moments, “What he did was indeed a bit too much. Sect Leader Jin, I apologize to you in place of him. If there’s any way at all to help the situation, please let me know. I’ll definitely compensate for things however I can.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”

[...]

Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”

[...]

The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”

[...]

Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”

One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”

[...]

“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”

“I knew that something would eventually happen if he continued on the ghostly path—look! His killing intents are being revealed already. Killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs…”

[...]

Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”

He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”

Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

This is very reminiscent of the way that Jin Zixuan would often turn around and say, ‘Why aren’t you controlling your servant?’ to Jiang Cheng whenever he had a dispute with Wei Wuxian over his treatment of Jiang Yanli.

When Jiang Cheng goes to the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian defects from Yunmeng Jiang in order to help the sect save face, Jiang Cheng treats this as a personal betrayal. He not only challenges Wei Wuxian to a duel but then announces that Wei Wuxian has betrayed Yunmeng Jiang and declared himself the enemy of cultivation society:

After the fight, Jiang Cheng told the outside that Wei WuXian defected from the sect and was an enemy to the entire cultivation world. The YunmengJiang Sect had already cast him out. From then on, no ties remained between them—a clear line was drawn. Henceforth, no matter what he did, they’d have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect!

(Chapter 73, Exiled Rebels translation)

“Wei Wuxian has betrayed the sect, and publicly regards all cultivation sects as enemy! Yunmeng Jiang Sect hereby expels him, breaking all ties with him and drawing a clear line between us. Henceforth, no matter what this person does, it will have nothing to do with Yunmeng Jiang Sect!”

(Modao Zushi Radio Drama, Season 3 Episode 5, Suibian Subs)

Naturally, no one ever questions this or wants to hear Wei Wuxian’s side of the story. Jiang Cheng is a sect leader and Wei Wuxian his servant, and that is all cultivation society needs to know.

In Conclusion

Wei Wuxian was never really part of the Jiang family. The wider social view was that he was a servant who was lucky to be taken in by the family and allowed to live in the main house alongside the sect leader’s children. He’s accepted into cultivation society conditionally, but only as someone who remains a rank below everyone else.

This attitude isn’t just the wider social view which the family themselves disregard; they all play into it. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Cheng both actively enforce it, Jiang Fengmian passively enforces it, and Jiang Yanli tries but fails to break through the social barriers between them.