#the person i would like to be pursued by is alas is. and allow me to paint a picture.

[thebirdandhersong]

unfortunately I AM experiencing interest being expressed in my direction of the romantic persuasion and this is unfortunate because this boy makes me vaguely uneasy despite him being pretty decent on paper, and because this is not the person I would like to be pursued by

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Oh my goshhhhhh I just binged all of your eldrich König writing and I’m OBSESSED! I need to know everything, what does it mean that they’re the herald? How many realms are there? What are the geopolitical realities of an (unaligned?) military of summoners? Have summons always been a part of this world’s history?

His mom is the coolest and I love the way the eldrich remind me of Nyx and her many children the chorionic gods.

It’s killing me they haven’t banged it out yet. And if hes bedded other people how did he not know his dick is weird 👀 This konig isnt like others Ive read and I’m just loving the warm and fuzzies from him being such a thoughtful partner but like almost too well adjusted? Miss the pet names though… Can’t wait to read more 💖💯🙌🏻 thank you!

I want them to fuck but unfortunately, here we are. I am suffering so much. Alas, a slow burn must be stirred carefully.

Now! As to what the herald means? I can't say. As to how many realms there are? As many atoms as there are in the universe and then some. They're practically infinite. It just so happens that König comes from one only a couple of realms away. He's not so distant from us, which is part of what allows him to inhabit our reality. If he were too distant, his form wouldn't be able to be corporeal. It wouldn't be able to take shape, period. The farther away a realm is, the less control it has over ours, and likewise us to them.

As for summoners out of the military, summons are very common! Many people call upon summons to help with daily tasks. Some are just for washing dishes or clothes, some are to keep as company on lonely nights. The use of summons varies depending on the person. In this world, humans have dedicated themselves to learning about other realms and pursuing knowledge and arts. They value hard skills made by human hands, though usage of summons to make manufactured goods is still a staple. Some individuals are dedicated to finding more and more summons, others are dedicated to training summons. Humans live luxurious lives these days. After all, if you never have to worry about maintaining a home, what would you do with all the free time? Humans aren't always lazy. Many of us devolved to degeneracy, but those humans didn't last long and didn't produce many more. The ones who had an internal drive were the ones to really carry on having families and pursuing greatness. Though some people still fall through the cracks, humanity has prospered in the age of summons.

Have summons always been here? Not really. They were discovered in the early common era to the start of the industrial age. For this group of humans, the industrial age was the age of summons. The summoning age, if you will. This was what kick-started their technological revolution.

On a different note!

König's mother is a beautiful creature. I truly consider her as close to divine as mortals can bear witness to. I am in awe of her. She is genuinely a fascinating being. She loves her children, she loves life, but she's not a good being. She's the embodiment of chaos, a rung above König. She's as capable of good as she is of bad. I will say, she prefers to preserve life when possible. She likes life, she likes how chaotic it is. She wants to preserve our spontaneity.

She also is very careful about Summoner. She likes our chocolates, but she kinda knows that König and Summoner haven't actually started their relationship, contrary to what König thinks. However, she's certain that we will end up together, which is the main reason she doesn't snuff out our candle before it's been lit. Herald be damned, she doesn't care. If we hurt her baby boy she'll erase our bloodline from the entirety of existence. It's a damn good thing that Summoner eventually ends up with König!!!

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us. 

[pinklayla123]

Putting this reply here because I want it and it saves me time to say the same thing.

So, you, an elriel, I presume, admit that what Elain and Azriel were about to do was indeed wrong? That Elain pursuing another guy while still having the bond with Lucien is not right? Elain who is not technically, but canonically, undeniably, irrefutably Lucien's mate. So you admit that what was about to happen in the first part of the chapter would have been wrong? That if Elain was so in love with Azriel and dying to be with him as Elriels believe she should at least say it to Lucien's face and reject him instead of staying ever in silence because no, a mating bond is not something that you can just ignore away? That there are not just political ramifications to consider but also how Lucien, who has been a literal darling all the time and described by several other characters as a good male, doesn't fucking deserve to be treated this way?

Hello, person behind ghost blog with randomly generated name, who sent a screenshot of a blog that evidently doesn't exist but is tagged in Elucien fanfictions.

First of all, thank you for sending this ask. This is the first time I've gotten a passive-aggressive fandom related ask like this, so this is low-key a tumblr milestone for me. So thank you for that.

I assume the screenshot included is someone's response to an ask they received in regards to this post since the wording is somewhat similar, but I can't actually find the blog you screenshot so idk what's up with that.

Now, onto the actual ask. The screenshot says "Did Azriel think anything about touching Elain feeling like touching the Mother herself? Lol, no." I believe this is referring to this sentence in my post "Touching Elain is the closest this man has come to meeting the Mother herself."

I did not mean to imply, in any way, shape, or form, that Azriel wants to get down and dirty with the Mother and is using Elain as a conduit for that kink. I simply meant to say that touching Elain was a very monumental experience for him. In the back of my head I was thinking about how he was literally questioning the Cauldron ("What if the cauldron was wrong?") which is a large part of the "religion" in Prythian, therefore anything that made him question it is undoubtedly a big deal for him. I see now that this wasn't very clear in the original post, so thank you for allowing me this opportunity to clarify my thought process.

Now, if I may, I will reply to the paragraph you went to the effort of actually typing out. Yes, I ship Elriel, you presume correctly. Do I think Elain and Azriel almost kissing is wrong? No, I'm afraid not.

This seems to be a follow-up to "The situation is wrong because Elain is technically mated to another guy who is literally sleeping upstairs." in my post. Is Elain wanting to kiss the man who has been nothing but kind and caring and gentlemanly since she's known him wrong? No I believe not.

Despite her canonically, undeniably, irrefutably being Lucien's mate, she actually does not owe him anything at all, least of all an explanation, because she did not make him any promises. She never went up to Lucien and said "I wanna explore this thing between us" and then go behind his back. If that were the case, yes it would be wrong. But alas, it is not.

I don't have it in me to go pull out the actual quote, but Rhys said in ACOWAR I believe that a female being a male's mate does not equal to her being accountable to him for every breath she takes. Elain is well within her right to not want to do anything at all with Lucien, as demonstrated by her being more than willing to kiss someone else in the same house.

Okay, if this isn't wrong, then why on earth did I say that it is? Easy. Because while Elain and Azriel are not doing anything wrong, their actions will be perceived as such by others and will have consequences far beyond the two of them.

On the topic of sweet darling Lucien, I wouldn't go as far to say he is one of my favorite characters, but I certainly don't hate him and would like to see him get a happy ending. However, he hasn't really done much for Elain to say he actually cares about her or wants a life-long relationship with her. His inner monologue consists of thinking Elain was "thrown" at him and he chooses to spend his days living with another woman on the other side of the world. Doesn't seem to me like either of them want jack and shit to do with each other.

p.s. Just because someone is a "good male" doesn't entitle them to anyone's time and affections, especially someone who has shown no interest in them and even seem to avoid them.

Anyways, sorry this got a little long. Have a nice day 😊😊

[senlinyu]

I'm in the middle of reading Manacled, and on several occasions I've thought it feels like the person who wrote it has some kind of background in medicine. Just little things I don't usually come across while reading fiction, things that seem like a second nature to the author. I would love to know if my intuition is correct!

Alas no. I wanted to be a doctor, but my mother had very conservative ideas about women and I wasn't allowed to pursue anything career-ish, only 'accomplishments' that would be becoming of a trophy wife.

But I have always had a slight obsession with medicine and have studied it as a hobby, and so I did loads of research in order to try to get into Hermione's headspace and become familiar with the types of terminology and technical language that she might think in, and my beta comes from a family with extensive medical background, and so she'd correct me if I got terminology wrong. And then at one point a doctor from France reached out and gave me some feedback about some technical details that I'd gotten wrong in one healing scene. So it was group effort.

But I'm always happy to hear that my descriptions didn't throw people out. I get the occasional complaint from nurses about my use of potions and I'm always like, "I wasn't really given much choice about how potions are administered." >_<

[dandelionjack]

now that i’ve deferred because a uni degree is nothing but an entrance ticket into moderate financial security and not worth utterly obliterating my mental health over i am compiling my own curriculum. all the posts i’ve ever tagged with #ref because they contain essays articles and other texts that i want to read but have never gotten around to, all that goes on the list. around fifty academic articles and book chapters downloaded onto my laptop from jstor while i still have access to it, tailored to fit my personal interests.

rearranging my self-education. little mx autodidact. carving out a passage through the brambles with a freshly sharpened machete. make no mistake, the thorns are piercing and will continue to tear at my exposed limbs, but the pain is worth the fruits of knowledge at the end, real knowledge and not something superimposed from above. i know, i know, undergrads aren’t afforded that freedom of narrowing our study, it’s something earned with time and effort and only fully permitted at a “higher” level of education, but who determines these levels?

it sounds silly and rash, but it’s a long-deliberated decision. the university environment is not right for my weird brain despite my literary inclinations, and i prefer to select my own path towards learning while working a low paying job on the side. perhaps i’ll return in a year’s time after all, matured and mellowed, hardened or roughened with real-life experience and online self-teaching, to pursue liberal arts as the most, well, liberated pathway. maybe not.

maybe if i had gone to one of those colleges where they allow you to pick and choose your own modules for your degree entirely (like one of the people that i most admire on this website did in its time) things would have gone down differently, but alas. let the world keep turning and let everything that serves no purpose any longer decompose and compost into something new .

“what has this got to do with autism?” you may ask, “i’m autistic and i completed a normal bachelors’ degree just fine.” your answer: having been in a place of moderate autistic burnout for years that abruptly turned severe in the past few months, my bodymind has shifted into what is known rather disparagingly under the medical model as “autistic regression” or “regressive autism”: a gradual distancing further and further away from accepted neurotypical standards of moving through and navigating the world around me.

one of the ways in which this unmasking presents itself, apart from the more noticeable characteristics such as outwardly visible stimming and a complete absence of eye contact, is a total inability to focus on, be motivated by and/or engage in any (textual, literary, cinematic etc etc) materials that do not connect at least tangentially or superficially with my special interests (that being ghosts/hauntings, hauntology, folk horror, lovecraftiana/cosmic horror, horror in general, the gothic, neurodiversity, alternative music; narratives/storytelling, folklore/fairytales; queer theory; carceral abolition and liberation; and a few other subjects here unlisted). according to normative capitalist logic of usefulness and productivity, that makes me “severely disabled” by virtue of “restricted interests”. i would say it makes me a interesting person with tall twisted tales to tell, but nevermind that silly nonsense, it’s a mad person speaking.

at this present moment i have no motivation, wish nor desire to continue wasting time and energy attempting to study and remember things that do not connect with the key concepts that my mind is constantly orbiting around. if that makes me incurious or annoying or limited, so be it — this neurological difference affects every aspect of my personality and i do not wish to change it. if the world around us refuses to change, we must either alter it ourselves or construct our own pathways out of the shadows and into the moonlit garden.

[blackgirlcouch]

Here’s my unsolicited two cents; some creators I have immense respect for have taken affront at the “soapy” direction “The Acolyte” has pursued with its latest 6th episode edition. While I certainly have my own hiccups with the pacing of transition, (and the show in general) I’ve picked up on nuggets along the way that weave, albeit a slightly frayed thread, with OSHA’s characterization to make all the things Qimir is saying appealing; adding in the sexual element only heightens that tension which refreshing.

We have explored every primarily masculine traits for those characters seduced to the dark side; ambition, power, anger, revenge, loss, fear, even love in the case of Anakin but never has Star Wars are portrayed characters that experience “lust," "hunger," "longing," so when Qimir brings up “desire” imo it isn’t soapy as much tantalizing the femininity of the protagonist by emphasizing the primitive emotions between them, something every person that chooses to become Jedi or train using the force ala Jedi way, must ignore.

Osha being teased with being able to use her powers in a manner that still allows her to maintain her autonomy coupled with her very real unexpected attraction to someone who can not only expose her vulnerabilities but has the same “literal” scars is in itself seductive to the mind, body, and spirit. However, she's been taught to be ashamed of these traits and has lost her ability to wield the force because of it.

The story is effective with this new energy that shouldn’t be dismissed because it doesn’t fit into one’s idea of Stat Wars.

This universe is HUGE; it’s presumptive to assume a story like this can’t be feasible because it tonally doesn’t jive with what has come before it. That’s the appeal, at least for me. The same reinforced tropes I've previously enjoyed are at this stage of 1k plus franchises is boring; imo. Perfectly logical not the like it; every ice cream flavor isn’t going to be your fav…it’s ok to want what you DESIRE the most but to spit in the container because it’s distasteful to you isn’t necessary nor can you declare it isn’t ice cream!

Sidebar; as someone who isn’t into the “soapy” romance myself, I think the moniker is misused here. Friends to lovers has been around in movies and television for longer than most people have been typing on these social media platforms that are becoming less about constructive criticism, entertainment or discussion than agendas but I digress; while I can understand the kneejerk response to dismiss the current Oshamir arc in that manner, it IS a valid storytelling choice and "soapy" is supplanted incorrectly to mask the fact that a the choice to be "seductive" star wars just isn’t your cup of tea.

Fair enough, but this hasn’t even come close to that label. Go watch the Young and the Restless; an actual soap opera and I challenge you to spot the difference lol

Fanfic would be more appropriate but even so, it’s not a criticism; only the uncomfortable emotion that you dislike. I’m not here to tell anyone what they should or should not like only to let out my own frustration regarding the unfairness of some of the commentary when juxtaposed against valid reasons for this unfolding story arc even if it isn’t to your appetite.

I’ll sound off this long ass post to emphasize there are no gatekeepers to the franchise; a franchise only survives by reinventing or delving deeper into unexplored territory. LucasFilm approved this show meaning they WANT to take chances with some of the themes many “fans” cry foul as not within their right to do so. No one makes a series for it to fail and whether it succeeds, or fail is still about taking a chance to do something different. it doesn’t give anyone the right to allow their passion free rein to attack or turn vitriol their disgust at anyone who dares to not have the same issues as you may feel are prevalent.

At the end of the day, it’s ENTERTAINMENT not one’s own self-identity intertwined with fiction.

[burningvelvet]

Are you planning on going to grad school and pursuing an academic career?

I've thought about it, but I'm completely ambivalent at this point. My prospects in academia wouldn't be good for various reasons, among them: I'm poor, I hate rules and hierarchies, and I'm not a sadomasochist.

My personality is very antithetical to academia, no matter how much I may love themes, motifs, and analysis, or how good of a teacher I may make. And it is a downright horrendous field when it comes to the treatment of its employees, who are among the most overworked and undervalued in all of the white-collar job market.

Alas, disillusionment! I've slowly resigned myself to reality. I would like a mindless job which allows me to preserve my limited spirits so that I may employ them how I wish to do so in my spare time. If such a thing exists, and would also allow me to pay my bills and receive the basic benefits all employees should receive, let alone to contribute any modicum of value to my community... then that is the job for me, whatever it is.

[everlaneptune]

Third official post! Yay! Also hi! I apologize for the wait. Like my second post, I've been experiencing severe writer's block. Writing these takes a while, too.

Allow me to place where credit is due. Thank you to Hoyoverse for providing the silk flower for my custom-made Tumble header, which I made myself!

Italicized paragraphs is Xiao's inner monologue, also provided by official Hoyoverse lore. Although, it's not as extensive of Part 1. Speaking of! This is Part 2 of "Qingxin and the Golden Eyes." Go read Part 1 if you haven't done so!

Now, please enjoy!

WARNINGS: Gore (blood, severe injury), character death.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

•°•

Petals of the Lingering Memories

Xiao

Moonlight beams down onto the stone pillars of Jueyun Karst. Herons peer down from the high cliffs, beaks grooming at their feathers. Birds along the cobblestone pathways peck at the ground in search for food. Amber on Mount Hulao glistens beneath the moon’s smile. A Dihua flute echoes through the valley, performing a song all recognize to be ‘Lover’s Oath.’

Shadows flee while the sun rises. Demons retreat at the sound of the Dihua flute. A vigilant yaksha pursues the mellifluous tune. He navigates the stone spires efficiently, footsteps featherlight as he traverse one stone to the next. Luminescent eyes of molten gold search for the source of the Dihua flute. His gaze concentrates on a maiden perched on top of the highest pillar, qingxin surrounding her lonely form.

Crouching one last time, he leaps into the air and flies to her location. He lands gracefully on his feet like a cat. Shock courses through him before it disappears from existence. The yaksha kneels before her, his head bowed in a display of respect.

The melody stops briefly. A gentle laugh escapes the maiden.

“Welcome back, Xiao,” she greets him. “Have you completed your chores for the night?”

He answers. “The demons near Qingce have been terminated. Entities tainted by karma will not be able to detect a trace. Passerby will not suspect anything is amiss.”

“As expected of the Conqueror of Demons,” she titters softly. “And how are you feeling?”

A pause. Xiao analyzes himself for any physical injuries. The blood on his person belongs to the demons, not him. He proceeds to examine his mind, which remains untouched by his karmic debt. It’s a normal occurrence nowadays since she plays the Dihua flute while he slays demons. Once he confirms nothing seems out of the ordinary, he replies.

“I’m fine.”

The maiden before him turns, her soft pink hair swaying with her movement. Her gentle, mint eyes gaze at him so tenderly. She gazes at him as if he’s the only person who matters during these warring times. Yet, he wishes that he could hide away from her gaze.

That gaze should be directed at someone else who deserves it, not him.

Lady Qingxin has always been his saving grace, but he doesn’t consider himself to be special. She treats everyone with respect, treating them like how she would like to be treated. Alas, she is tentative to the yaksha’s needs. When his karmic debt overwhelms him, the nullifying tune of the Dihua flute relieves him of the pain. She aids him in the battle against the gods’ anger, relieving everyone from karma and demons plaguing this land by cleansing it with song.

Even though the corruption has stopped spreading long ago, she continues to play to ensure his safety. She does not want him to succumb to his karmic debt.

A flick on his forehead pulls him out of his thoughts.

Xiao stumbles away, his hand lifting to shield his forehead. He notices that the group of qingxin drifts alone in the wind. Now, Qingxin has left her spot on the cliff and kneels before him, her arms resting on her knees.

“You’re doing it again,” she says. “Retreating into the deep recesses of your mind. ‘I am unworthy of such praises,’ or ‘I do not deserve such tenderness.’” She rests her chin on her hand. “Something along those lines, yes?”

Xiao gazes at her. Then he shakes his head.

“No,” he answers. “I am thankful for your praises, Lady Qingxin.”

If he responds with the truth, the Dihua flute will be beaten against his head. Yet…

THUNK!

Xiao grimaces when the wooden instrument strikes his head.

“Liar.”

Qingxin sighs. She rises from the ground, yet he remains kneeling. He knows better than to stand at the same time. When her foot taps his knee, the yaksha stands.

Warm arms envelop him suddenly. Xiao tenses, the sensation foreign to him, yet he melts shortly after. He reciprocates the embrace, his head burying into her shoulder.

“Welcome back, Xiao,” Qingxin repeats. “You must be exhausted. Shall we go to Wangshuu Inn and have almond tofu?”

“The offer sounds tempting, my lady,” he replies. “But I would like to remain here for a moment more. It’s… peaceful.”

She laughs softly. “I knew you’d say that.”

The maiden guides him over to the cliffside. Xiao complies with her request to lay down, remaining mindful of the qingxin around them. He situates himself, his head coming to rest on her lap. Qingxin cards her fingers through his wild mane, untangling knots and rat’s nests. The soothing touch tempts him to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“What would you like for me to play?” she asks him. The girl readies her flute, her fingertips covering their respective holes.

“The ‘Nameless Song,’” Xiao replies. “Or whatever you call it.”

“Wu Ji?” Qingxin titters quietly. “Of course.”

She checks her instrument by executing random notes.  Once she deems her

She plays a few random notes to check the condition of her flute. Once the instrument passes the test, a harmonious sound floats into the night. A gentle breeze drifts past them, and Xiao knows Barbatos carries it across Liyue. From Minlin to its neighboring regions: Bishui Plain and Lisha. From the plains, the Qiongji Estuary. From Lisha, the Sea of Clouds.

He knows because he often hears her music from miles away.

Xiao enjoys the tranquility of the moment. He listens closely to the harmony that she plays. His hands rest on top of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

The image shatters when he recognizes the warmth of blood.

Xiao jumps to his feet.

Instead of laying on the stone pillar at Jueyun Karst, he stands in a field not far from Wangshuu Inn. Demonic corpses lay on the ground, and crimson stains the gravel. The reeds have been sliced to ribbons from the brutal blows of his polearm. Demons surround him, cackling to each other. He pays no mind to the creatures surrounding him.

His only desire is to find the source of the blood.

That’s right.

He pivots on his foot to find Qingxin standing there, her arms spread wide. A demon stumbles away in fear. The yaksha swiftly catches the maiden before she falls onto the ground. His eyes widen upon spotting blood staining her gown, turning white silk into a deep maroon.

He examines the wound. Several layers of bodily tissue have been cut. It spans from her right shoulder down to her left hip. He sees a bone peaking out between the muscle and tissue. It’s deep… Too deep.

For the first time, Xiao experiences a mundane emotion.

Fear.

“Qingxin?” he calls out quietly. “Moondrop, can you hear me?”

Why does he treat her so gently? It seems out of character for him. Xiao has never shown such tenderness towards someone. He is fearful of displaying his vulnerability, afraid of what Qingxin might think of him.

At that moment, he forgoes his fear. The stone walls around his heart collapse.

“Xiao?”

A soft and gentle voice calls out to him. Xiao almost cries out in relief upon hearing that voice. Almost.

“I’m here. I’m here,” he answers. The yaksha holds her close. His eyes sting, and he sheds a tear when he blinks. “Please, hold on. I’ll get you somewhere safe, I promise. Just hold on, okay?”

“Xiao,” Qingxin says again. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Dawn approaches, and so does the inevitability of death as it encroaches.

It’s too soon.

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Xiao whispers. “I will terminate these demons and take you to Wangshuu Inn. I will ensure that-”

“Swear to me that you will live a fulfilling life.”

What?

“Do not dwell on my death. Instead, fight for the people of Liyue.”

“You’re speaking nonsense,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re not going to die here! Not if I have anything to-”

“Adeptus Alatus!” Qingxin interrupts. She coughs out the blood congealing in her lungs. “As the Goddess of Song, I order this of thee!”

Xiao attempts to resist her command, his body and mind combatting his instinct to obey. Qingxin notices that resistance, as she always does. She makes the process less painful, the tender caress of her hand momentarily distracting him.

Chains of obedience bind to his wrists and lock around his neck. Her order forces onto him the instinct to protect mankind. Most important of all, Xiao replies to his name bestowed onto him by the Archon of Geo.

Reluctantly, the yaksha lowers her onto the ground. His mind screams not to abandon him, clashing with this newfound instinct to protect humanity. Her gentle smile reassures him that her sacrifice is necessary. She lowers her hand from his cheek onto her abdomen.

“As… As you wish,” Xiao forces out.

Her smile never fades. Qingxin closes her eyes, breathing her last breath.

Xiao rises from the ground, the familiar weight of his polearm appearing in his hand. The demons surrounding him draw near. When the first beam of sunshine peaks over the horizon, illuminating Qingxin’s pale complexion, the yaksha strikes.

Anger devours him completely and drives him to eliminate every foe. Xiao refuses to forgive the fallen gods who have taken her life, his beloved Moondrop, neither will he forgive himself. He doesn’t care for the flesh blood staining his clothes.

He doesn’t mind how everything hurts: how his muscles ache from swinging his polearm so fiercely, or how his energy drains from utilizing Barbatos’s gift.

Instead of collapsing, Xiao supports himself with his weapon. The yaksha turns to Qingxin, ready to pick her up and carry her back to Jueyun Karst. Where she laid now has qingxin.

The yaksha turns to her body only to spot a patch of qingxin. Without a second thought, he picks them as delicately as he can. At the end, he cradles a bouquet of twelve qingxin with care.

Archons, how his heart aches.

“Twelve is a remarkable number,” Qingxin has told him. “A bouquet of twelve roses stands for love and passion. Their stems communicate the perfection or completeness that one feels. The number itself is associated with an entire year, the twelve hours of a day, and the twelve signs of the zodiac. Quite fascinating, don’t you think?”

He stumbles back to Jueyun Karst.

Stumbling back to Jueyun Karst, he intends to inform Morax about his daughter’s death. Alas, the sound of a Dihua flute distracts him and lifts the karma plaguing him. Knowing that the cleansing is necessary, he trudges into the direction of the mellifluous tune, never surrendering the qingxin.

… 

How long has it been?

Xiao slows to a halt. He lifts his gaze to the lanterns strewn across the pathways of Liyue Harbor, signifying the return of Lantern Rite. Bustling streets arouse a sense of claustrophobia in the yaksha, but he pays them no mind for the traveler’s sake.

He remembers that Aether excused himself a while back. Morax - Er, Zhongli has dragged him off somewhere and failed to tell him. At least Xiao doesn’t have to listen to Paimon during this chaotic, yet joyous, time.

Xiao can always disappear from these streets, and the traveler will never know of his absence.

At the same time, the yaksha has a feeling that he cannot shake.

“Qingxin!”

A name. Her name. It floats into the air amidst the public.

He startles a few passersby when he leaps into the direction of the voice. His heartbeat thunders like an echoing gong within his ears. Xiao navigates the turquoise rooftops with surprising efficiency, even though he doesn’t travel around the harbor often. He stops occasionally to listen for the voice. He darts into that direction when he hears it again.

He stumbles upon Heyu Tea House where Tea Master Liu Su stands. The yaksha recalls Zhongli mentioning him in the past. The mortal describes a familiar story that Xiao recognizes immediately. It reminds him of those painful memories about that evening. 

What am I wrestling with? The tactful answer would be old grudges, unfilled dreams, the lamentations of the vanquished.

Xiao cares not for what Liu Su says. It doesn’t surprise him when the tea master mentions his millennia-long suffering known as ‘Bane of All Evil.’

A familiar, gentle voice speaks up, and the yaksha’s heart skips a beat.

“Why is that his millennia-long suffering is referred to as the ‘Bane of All Evil?’”

He peers down at the tea master’s audience, and he nearly collapses at the sight of her.

She sits at a table by a young boy. Her pink hair lays in a braid behind her, the end grazing the floor. Her minty orbs peer at Liu Su curiously. She adorns clothing similar to that of Zhongli, but the only difference between them is the color. He wears black, earthy brown, and gold while she wears black, forest green, and white.

One key feature gives her identity away, and that is the hair clip that he gifted her years ago. It is an artificial qingxin with two leaves and red beads.

A question arises deep within his mind.

Why take her away from me only to bring her back, Celestia?

“That’s where our story ends, ladies and gentlemen!”

He almost falls off the roof when Liu Su’s voice booms throughout the quiet area. The audience applauds him, and the sound pains his sensitive ears. Xiao wonders why the traveler invites him to lantern right when Aether knows that he doesn’t like going into public places.

Realization hits him like Morax’s boulder.

Qingxin.

The yaksha peers down to see her spot vacant. He leaps down and leaves Heyu Tea House. With a sniff in the air, he detects a faint trace of glaze lilies. Xiao pursues that soft fragrance, walking swiftly to avoid making a scene.

He refuses to let this opportunity slip from him!

“Wasn't that amazing, Qingxin?” The young boy’s voice says again. “I never heard a story like that before! This version is better than the original!”

“It was amazing.” He hears Qingxin reply. “But we have to hurry home, or else Mom and Dad will start to worry.”

Mom and Dad?

Xiao slows. He doesn’t recall her having a family.

He reminds himself that she’s a potential reincarnation of the goddess.

Keep it together!

Qingxin descends a ruby stairwell leading up to the tea house. She holds the young boy’s hand and guides him through the crowd. The girl’s back faces him, and Xiao knows better than to sneak up on her.

He sprints towards her, his hand reaching out and latching onto her wrist.

“Qingxin?” he calls out her name faster than he realizes.

The bustling streets of Liyue Harbor fades into the background. Turning to him, she studies him for a moment. No recognition sparkles in her eyes.

She retains none of her memories.

As it should be expected from someone who underwent reincarnation.

She goes to speak, but he interrupts.

“I have mistaken you from someone else.” He releases her hand. He steps away to create distance between them. “Excuse me.”

Agony embraces his heart, the mundane emotion overwhelming the yaksha. He disregards the tears forming in his eyes. Xiao flees, but the pain doesn’t stop him from looking back.

He watches Qingxin hurry over to the young boy. Once their hands intertwine, she peers back at him. Their gazes meet for a moment before the young boy drags her away. Her brother, he finally assumes.

He doesn’t entertain the possibility of meeting her again. A life of solidarity is a difficult one. The last things he needs is a mortal Qingxin becoming part of it.

Xiao meanders to the back entrance of Liyue Harbor. He leaps down to cross the wooden bridge that will take him to Lisha. From Lisha, to Minlin. He wants to venture to the stone pillar where Qingxin once played. He starts his patrol there and forces himself to remember the fading song of the Dihua flute.

When he reaches the stone arch of Lisha, a voice calls out.

“Wait! Wait, stranger!”

Xiao faces her, surprised to find her sprinting towards him. The distance closes between them, and Qingxin hunches over to catch her breath. He watches her, having no clue what to say. She does, however. She speaks for them.

“At least tell me your name before you leave!” she says. “And where to find you! I know that you’re the voice in my head! The one who told the story alongside Tea Master Liu Su!”

He’s shocked.

When has he spoken to her? If so, he hadn’t done it intentionally!

The yaksha averts his gaze. He shared his story unconsciously with her, and he admits that it’s his mistake. He had no idea that he had that ability!

How selfish could he be?

“Adeptus Xiao,” he replies. He ignores how his heart leaps with joy. “You will find me at Wangshuu Inn.”

With that, he disappears into the night. His heart rejoices at the reunion between two lovers.

Xiao wonders if it has a mind of its own.

. . .

© everlaneptune 2024

[lingshanhermit]

Ling Shan Hermit: When the Devil Whispers in Your Ear

In Charlie Chaplin's 1921 cinematic gem, "The Kid," there unfolds a scene of intrigue: Chaplin finds himself in the midst of a dream, one where he has ascended to a paradise-like domain. Here, joy permeates every corner, song and dance are the order of the day, and all the inhabitants are adorned with angelic wings. Alas, this idyllic period is ephemeral. As the heavenly gatekeeper succumbs to sleep, devils stealthily infiltrate the blissful crowd, awaiting opportunities to stir trouble.

A young couple arrives on this stage. The young man temporarily departs, leaving the girl alone. Chaplin, who is seated not far off, watches this scene unfold. One of the devils spots the girl and discerns her underlying desire — an ambition to validate her charm. Taking advantage of her vulnerable state, he whispers sweet nothings into her ear, instigating her to attempt to seduce Chaplin. Initially, Chaplin seems resilient, immune to the girl's advances. Yet, the devil is equally adept at understanding the desires that stir within a man's heart. A few whispers into Chaplin's ear are all it takes to fan the flames of desire within him. Falling prey to the devil's machinations, he begins pursuing the girl. What transpires henceforth is far from the beautiful narrative that preceded it.

You see, this is the quintessential process of our fall from grace. As our mindfulness starts to wane, the devil seizes the opportunity to infiltrate our psyche. When we embark upon our journey of spiritual cultivation, the devil frequently whispers into our ears — words that only we can hear. "Why exert yourself so?" he'd coax, "You can afford to slacken your pace, take a breather." "What harm could a small deviation do?" he'd encourage, "You can always repent afterward." "You are truly remarkable," he'd flatter, "You've managed to see through my deception. You're incredibly astute." And most dangerously, "You're undertaking this for the sake of the Dharma, not for personal gratification." Once you start believing these whispers, the seeds of your downfall have already been sown.

There was a time when I basked in an aura of self-contentment, the world seemingly favoring me with all its bounties. Everything was mine for the taking, life was simply splendid. Gradually, I began to let down my guard, my former diligence replaced by complacency. The devil had started whispering into my ear. As I allowed myself to relax, to enjoy the 'fruits' of my spiritual endeavors, certain aspects of my life began to lose their firm footing. It was not until certain events transpired that I was jolted awake, leading me to the stark realization that the period I had once considered my golden era was, in fact, the true obstacle in my path.

What do we conventionally perceive as obstacles? Losing a job, or a partner leaving us for someone else? The genuine hurdles are often those that lull us into a false sense of comfort. It's akin to lying in a warm bathtub, a state of drowsy contentment. Those incidents that jolt us out of this cozy complacency can indeed be the most sublime blessings. Certain occurrences have the potential to shatter your illusions, to yank you out from the warm bathtub and thrust you into the harsh Arctic blizzard. Such experiences can be the most extraordinary blessings. Of course, it's understandable that not many would welcome such 'blessings'.

There was a period in my life where I encountered what I'll refer to, for now, as 'obstacles'. At the time, I genuinely perceived them as hurdles. Most people would probably agree with that sentiment. Yet, it was these very impediments that prompted me to take a long, hard look at myself: I must have erred somewhere, somehow, to have arrived at this juncture. I began examining my thoughts, words, and actions, rectifying my behaviors, and renouncing certain activities. If such challenges lead you to genuinely scrutinize and transform yourself, they ought to be regarded as blessings. However, we often find ourselves in a hurry to escape these blessings. Subconsciously, we yearn for a life devoid of disruptions, akin to luxuriating in a bathtub filled with warm water. We are reluctant to weather storms.

To extricate ourselves from such situations, we engage in various spiritual practices, praying to our gurus in the hope of restoring normalcy, of returning to the comforting warmth of our metaphorical bathtub. Most people would not readily admit that they undertake spiritual practices with such mundane objectives in mind. They deceive themselves. More likely, it's because they never really find the time to introspect deeply. A superficial approach to spiritual cultivation seldom provides the opportunity to glimpse one's true inner state.

Upon closer introspection, it's clear how dearly we cherish our cycle of existence, or samsara. We strive to preserve and renovate it, hoping to erect a refuge through Buddhism where we can temporarily escape the harsh realities of samsara. This essentially defines our spiritual cultivation. Do you offer daily prayers to your guru? What do your prayers encompass? Health, wealth, the affection of those you are fond of? Perhaps a promotion or raise at work? Are these not efforts to refurbish your samsara?

Would you ever pray to your guru for a complete loss of your possessions? Certainly not. If you were to lose a considerable sum of money on the stock market, you'd undoubtedly perceive it as an obstacle. You would be filled with worry and distress, but never would you joyously ring up your guru, exclaiming, "Wonderful! I've lost so much money! Thank you for your blessings." Instead, you would likely spend more money seeking the prayers and blessings of monks in an effort to recover your lost fortune.

Generally speaking, when everything is going smoothly, we lack the motivation for self-examination. An absence of difficulties does not aid you in understanding the nature of samsara. On the contrary, it immerses you deeper into it. Those events that help you truly recognize samsara and understand yourself are often the ones you dislike. When such incidents occur, we typically label them as obstacles. We categorize those experiences that disrupt our comfortable cycle of existence as hindrances. We resist them, strive to keep them at bay, hoping that with the prayers and blessings of monks, these misfortunes (yes, we refer to these blessings as misfortunes) will swiftly pass.

We crave a state where everything is under control, where life is serene and carefree, where we luxuriate in the warmth of our metaphorical bathtub. We resent being yanked out from this comforting warmth and thrust into a stormy blizzard. Yet, the most genuine blessings often manifest in exactly this manner.

As Ch��gyam Trungpa Rinpoche once said, "The duty of a Dharma protector is to ensure you're on the correct path; if you deviate, they will guide you back." I may not remember his exact words, but the sentiment remains the same. Buddhist practice is not entirely a self-driven journey. For certain practitioners who meet the prerequisites, Dharma protectors are constantly vigilant, much like a shepherd overseeing his sheep. Unless you're entirely abandoned, they will in various ways make you aware of your missteps. They will shake you vigorously, until you awaken.

Yet, we often misconstrue such harsh awakenings as obstacles. When confronted with such "obstacles," we are prone to fear and concentrate exclusively on self-preservation. It is when I begin to defend myself that real obstacles emerge. I lose sight of my original intent. You too may lose sight of your grand objective, your bodhicitta, in the throes of self-preservation. Your sole aim becomes self-protection, returning your surroundings to normalcy, making everything seem under control, making everything look alright. During this process, your grand aspirations are eroded away. You begin to focus only on yourself. You start concerning yourself with the minor things, like a general meant to command thousands of troops, but now reduced to brawling with foot soldiers. Your focus is scattered, your attention diverted. You start defending a non-existent self, and it's these actions that disrupt your spiritual practice.

As a practitioner, you'll encounter numerous obstacles. Some are readily recognizable, others are more elusive, and many obstacles present themselves with an allure that invites you to embrace them. You might find yourself entwined in a dance with these barriers, lost in their allure. If you manage to see through and overcome these obstacles, even more formidable ones await. In the film "Little Buddha" starring Keanu Reeves, after Prince Siddhartha vanquishes the armies of the devil, the storm subsides and everything seems to regain tranquility. In the pool of water before him, his reflection appears - the final ruse of the devil. This reflection, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Siddhartha, declares, "I am you." Siddhartha sees through the devil's trickery and doesn't fall for it. "You are not me," he responds, causing the devil to vanish.

For Buddhists, the ultimate and most formidable obstacle is the belief in an "ego", followed by the conviction that everything else also has an "ego". Every mountain, every river, every color, every object, and even every posture and movement has a name. Every sound carries its own definition. Each scent, each flavor, each tactile sensation, and each thought is defined and conceptualized by our mind. This is the greatest obstacle and the king of all demons. It is the most elusive barrier, the greatest of all bosses, far more potent than the entry-level devils whispering in our ears.

This article was first published on Google Blogger by Ling Shan Ju Shi on July 5, 2019. All rights reserved. Any infringement will be prosecuted.

Copyright Notice：All copyrights of Ling Shan Hermit's articles in Simplified and Traditional Chinese, English, and other languages belong to the natural person who owns "Ling Shan Hermit". Please respect copyright. Publishers, media, or individuals (including but not limited to internet media, websites, personal spaces, Weibo, WeChat public accounts, print media) must obtain authorization from Ling Shan Hermit before use. No modifications to the articles are allowed (including: author's name, title, main text content, and punctuation marks). We reserve all legal rights.

灵山居士：当魔鬼在你耳边低语

在卓别林1921年的电影《寻子遇仙记》（The Kid）里，有这么一段：当时卓别林正在做梦，他梦见自己去了一个天堂般的地方，那里每个人都很快乐，每个人都在唱歌跳舞，每个人都长着天使的翅膀。但是好景不长。我们看到天堂的看门人睡着了，魔鬼悄悄溜了进来。他们混入人群，伺机而动。然后，来了一对青年男女情侣。男的有事情暂时走开了。只留下女孩子一个人。卓别林就坐在不远处。魔鬼发现了女孩子，他发现了女孩子想要自我证明的心——她想要证明自己的魅力——他在女孩子耳边悄悄说了些话。女孩子被鼓动了，她开始尝试勾引卓别林。刚开始的时候卓别林似乎并未上钩。但是魔鬼同样了解男人的心。魔鬼在他耳边低语了几句之后，他也被鼓动了，他开始上钩。他开始追逐女孩子。之后的故事就不那么美好了。

知道吗？我们就是这样被鼓动的。当我们的正念开始打盹，魔鬼就溜进来了。当我们开始修行的时候，魔鬼会经常在我们耳边说话，那些话只有我们自己听得到。魔鬼会告诉你：“何必那么辛苦呢？你可以不那么努力，放松一下吧。”魔鬼会告诉你：“试一下又怎么样呢？反正你可以忏悔嘛。”魔鬼会说：“你真棒，居然能发现我的伎俩不上当。你太厉害了。”魔鬼还会告诉你：“你这是为了佛法。不是为了私欲。”如果你信了他的话，你的障碍就开始了。

有一段时间，我非常得意，世界似乎非常眷顾我，我几乎拥有了一切，一切都是那么美好。我开始不像之前那么勤奋，魔鬼开始在我耳边低语。我开始让自己轻松一点，很多东西开始松动。我开始享受修行的“成果”。直到后来有一些事情出现，把我惊醒。我慢慢了解到，那段我���为非常美好的时光才是真正的障碍。通常我们认为的障碍是什么？失去工作，老婆跟人跑了？真正的障碍会让你觉得一切还不错。你就像是躺在温热的浴缸里，有点昏昏欲睡。而那些把你带离这些的，才是最殊胜的加持。有些事情会出现，击碎你之前的迷梦。你就像是被人从温热的浴缸里拉出来，丢进北极的暴风雪里。这是最殊胜的加持。当然，我不认为会有人会欢迎这样的加持。

有一段时间，我遇到了一些“障碍”，我想我们可以先用障碍这个词来称呼它。当时我认为这确实是障碍。而大部分人也会视其为障碍。就是这些障碍，让我审视自己：一定是我做错了什么。才导致这些。我开始检视自己的身语意，我开始修正自己的行为。我开始断除一些事情。如果一些障碍让你真正的去审视自己，真正的改变自己，那我们应该称之为加持。但我们通常会急于摆脱这种加持。潜意识里，我们希望一切都顺风顺水。我们喜欢泡在充满热水的浴缸里。我们不喜欢经历风暴。为了摆脱这种局面，我们会修很多法，我们会祈祷上师，我们希望让生活回归正常，让我们重新回到温热的浴缸里。大部分人不会承认自己是怀抱这样的世俗目的去修持的。他们会骗自己。当然更多的可能是因为他们从未有时间对自己做深入的分析。浮光掠影的表面修持很难让人有机会一窥自己内在的真实状态。

如果仔细剖析，我们会发现我们对轮回的珍爱程度，我们希望维护我们的轮回，我们希望修缮它。我们希望用佛法搭建一个避难所，让我们可以暂时忘掉轮回的真相。这就是我们的修行。你每天都会祈祷上师吗？你祈祷的内容是什么？健康，财富，让你喜欢的人也能喜欢你？抑或是升职加薪。这难道不是在修缮你的轮回？你会祈祷上师让你家财尽失吗？当然不会。如果你投资股票损失了很多钱，你肯定认为你遇到了障碍。你会愁眉苦脸。你绝不会欢天喜地的给上师打电话说太好了我损失了很多钱谢谢上师的加持。你肯定会花钱请僧众念经加持以便让你损失的钱能够再赚回来。一般而言，在一切都很顺利的时候我们会缺乏审视自己的动力。一切都很顺利，不会帮你认识轮回，相反的，它会让你沉醉轮回。那些能够帮助你认识轮回认清自己的都是些你不喜欢的事，当这种事情出现的时候，我们通常会把它当作障碍。我们把那些令我们轮回不畅的事情叫做障碍。我们不喜欢它。我们会对抗它。我们希望把它关在门外。我们请僧众念经加持希望这些厄运（是的，我们称呼这种加持为厄运）尽快远离我们。我们喜欢一切都可控，我们喜欢一切都是云淡风轻，我们喜欢全身浸泡在温热的水里的感觉。我们不喜欢被人从水里拉出来丢进暴风雪。但真正的加持就是这样。

秋阳创巴仁波切说：“护法神的责任是确保你走在正道，如果你偏离了，他会把你赶回去。”我不记得原话，大概是这样。佛教的修行并非完全是自力，对于某些够资格的修行人来说，护法神一直在看着你——就像是牧羊犬看着羊。除非你被彻底放弃了，否则他们会以各种方式提醒你你走错了。他们会猛抽你，直到你清醒过来。

但很多时候，我们会把这样的猛抽当成障碍，当我们面对这样的“障碍”的时候，我们会被吓住，我们会忙于自保。当我开始自保的时候，我们的障碍才真正开始。我已经忘记了我是干什么的了。你早已经忘记你的大目标，你的菩提心，你忙于保护自己，你的目的只是保护自己，让周遭的一切恢复常态，我忙于让一切变得可控。让一切都看起来不错。在此过程中，你的雄心壮志都会被消磨掉。你开始只关心你自己。你开始只关心很小的事情，就像是本应指挥千军万马的将军，却被拉下马和小兵撕打起来。你被分散精力，被转移注意力，你开始保护并不存在的自我，你的修行就是被这些事情破坏掉的。

作为修行者，你会遇到很多障碍，有些你可能一眼就能认出，有些则很难认出，很多障碍看起来非常迷人，让你想要拥她入怀。你会和很多障碍共舞，沉醉其中。如果你能识破这些障碍，战胜这些障碍，还有更厉害的障碍等着你。在基努里维斯主演的《小活佛》里，在悉达多王子战胜了魔王的军队之后，风暴消失，一切似乎都恢复了平静，在他面前的水潭里，映出了他的影像，那是魔王最后的招数，那个长得和悉达多一样的影像告诉他：“我就是你。”悉达多识破了魔王的诡计，并未上当��悉达多说：“你不是我。”然后魔王就消失了。

对于佛教徒来说，最厉害最终极的障碍就是你认为有一个“自我”，然后万事万物也有一个“自我”。每一座山，每一条河，每一种颜色，每一个物体，甚至每一种姿势每一个动作，都有一个名字，每一个声音也都有它的定义，每一种香味，每一种味道，每一种触���，每一个念头，也都被我们的心定义了，被我们概念化了，这是最大的障碍和魔王，也是最难觉知的障碍，这是魔中之王，最大的boss，比那些在我们耳边低语的入门级的魔鬼要厉害多了。

本文于2019年7月5日首发于灵山居士谷歌Blogger。版权所有，侵权必究。 

[avelera]

For the ask meme, I've got one that's sort of a hybrid of 34 (What aspects of your fic are taken from real life?) and 46 (Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?) Specifically, you've mentioned in some of your tags that you're in cybersecurity. Do you find that affects your writing at all, either in the content or in what tools you use? (I'm a software dev, and it absolutely affects my choice of writing tools.) Or if you prefer, number 41 (Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”) (Or both. Both is good too.)

Hey there! Sorry for the delay on this one, thank you for writing the questions in cuz the actual meme is buried by now!

To answer, yeah! I'm in cybersecurity, have been my whole career. I've very rarely written anything that directly ties to it, at least nothing published (I had grand designs for a BBC Sherlock fic once that, alas, never saw the light of day).

Mostly I think cybersecurity informs my writing in terms of processes, the way crimes actually happen, the way security actually happens, the way people think. I think of myself as a somewhat scattered person, but I've had commenters say that the plot, or sequence of events, or ways characters think in my stories can be quite methodical and detail-oriented, which may come from that world.

I actually find social engineering/con artistry very interesting as a result of my time spent in the security community, and that might be an influence too. "Prisoners' Dilemma" (Pacific Rim) and "This Rough Magic" (Sandman) of my fics in particular deal with both the heroes and villains operating as dueling con artists. Both take advantage of the social contract (our instincts to be accommodating to those who are polite to us, conflating niceness with goodness, the average unwillingness to cause offense or stick out or cause inconvenience) as ways to gain power over others, trick them, and/or otherwise pursue a goal.

"This Rough Magic" specifically has Burgess using some standard social engineer/con artist type skills to ingratiate himself to Hob. He disguises his identity, offers him a free flow of strong liquor to lower his guard, connects with him over shared hobbies (book collecting) and shared tragedies (lost sons) to win his trust. When Hob catches onto this, he begins to play Burgess right back, playing into the lost sons and listening carefully to everything Burgess says about who he thought Hob was before he met him and playing to that role, so everything he does seems to confirm that Burgess was right all along about Hob, that he's a fellow greedy magus and someone who is predisposed to like Burgess instead of hating him. The one missing piece Hob needs to keep most tightly in reserve is that he likes Dream instead of despising him. Thankfully, the thought of anyone liking Dream (who has never spoken to them) is so foreign to Burgess that it would take something fairly blatant for him to interpret Hob's actions that way.

I also think cybersecurity and the fact that most criminals like ransomware gangs are after money shades things a little bit, along with just being an adult who pays bills, just makes me keep front and center that money is a motivator and concern for most people. Having a character like Dream around allows me to skip over some of the nitty-gritty of little things like "needing money to survive" but I try to keep it as at least a concern for characters who are not Dream and to use it at times to demonstrate to Dream how out of touch he is with human needs and therefore human motivations.

As for writing tools? Not really, I use Pages on a Macbook because it automatically uploads to the Cloud and I've lost works before. But my writing tools have little to do with my profession.

Final question, fics that make me want to write like that? When I was 14 I read a fic called "Veiling of the Sun" for the LOTR fandom, which was a canon-divergence AU about what if Boromir gave in to the Ring's power in FotR, did terrible things while under its control, and then need to claw his way back to redemption after what he'd done. It was originally posted on Henneth Annun and has since been moved to AO3. This is arguably the fic that made me want to be an angst writer in the first place because I cried so hard while reading it. Not sure how it holds up to the test of time and changing fashions, but I always like to give it a shout-out for these kinds of questions :)

[creativemorningsvancouver]

Our featured speaker for March is the charming and irreverent magician Rob Teszka who will share his fascinating experiences and struggles with creativity through the lens of the global theme PERSPECTIVE.

Weaving interesting stories and unusual ideas together with wit and skill, Teszka entertains at a variety of public festivals and private events, is the president of the Fraser Valley Magic Company, and has toured across Canada with his solo Fringe show. The thing he’s most proud of though, is producing and hosting the monthly Parlour Magic Show, Vancouver’s own variety magic show that just entered its 4th year! Incidentally, Rob hated writing this bio for himself, because bragging is really quite unnatural for him. A favourable review once called him “a genuine eccentric”. It’s probably because he knots his own bow ties.

Every month we ask our speaker a handful of probing questions to give us a deeper glimpse into their life and relationship with creativity:

How do you define creativity and apply it in your life and career? Sometimes, a person gets driven to express a Thing, by -any means necessary-. Creativity is the practice of solving problems that get in the way of fully communicating the Thing. My chosen medium happens to be magic, which is beautifully cross-disciplinary and lets you express even the impossible. There is a Thing that should not be: and yet, here it is. To bring my Things to life I have dipped my paintbrush into many disciplines: acting, engineering, standup comedy, improv, psychology, puppetry, clown, storytelling–and whatever else I’ve needed to express the Thing.

Where do you find your best creative inspiration or energy? Seeing live performance! My cup is always refilled whenever I go to a show, and fills most quickly when I’m at a festival and seeing all the shows I can. Especially the weird ones.

What’s one piece of creative advice or a tip you wish you’d known as a young person? Rob! It’s me, you from the future! That feeling you feel, when in front of an audience? It’s JOY. It doesn’t have to be rare. You can find it in so many different ways. Don’t let the bastards grind you down–you are allowed to pursue joy! DO IT!

Who (living or dead) would you most enjoy hearing speak at CreativeMornings? Why not both? Have Erwin Schrödinger on. Ha! But for real: I’d be interested to see P.T Barnum, the infamous humbug and sideshow exhibitionist. I suspect he’d be wildly entertaining, but also insightful about North American showbiz culture, the way spin and bluster dazzle the public, and the real power of a fake story. Alas, he was waaaaaay more problematic than his portrayal by Hugh Jackman in the Greatest Showman musical would suggest, so it’s probably for the best that we’ll just have to imagine what he’d say.

How would you describe what you do in a single sentence to a stranger? I entertain by using lies to share truths—and am disarmingly open about the lying part.

What keeps you awake at night? My goddamned phone. I am as a moth to its artificial glow.

What’s your one guilty creative indulgence? I like popcorn movies and prefer pulpy genre to literary fiction! For instance: my favourite movies are Raiders of the Lost Ark and Ghostbusters, and I love cozy murder mysteries and Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels. I don’t really watch movies or read books that make me feel sad or weird, and I guess I feel guilty about it because I’m seeking fun escapism rather than erudition? Heavens, what will become of my pretentious reputation!

What fact about you would surprise most people? I’m a vaguely competent pianist and singer, and can convincingly accompany myself on the ukulele.

WATCH RECORDING HERE

[some-writing-a-day]

#2 writing: Signet

I have always wanted grandad’s signet, I just did not expect to get it in the weirdest way possible. Let me explain, it all started with a cat. Not just any cat, not even the royal cat, it is just some street cat. Let us nickname this street cat as Casper. 

You see, Casper is a mangy cat that was abandoned after its owner died. While the remaining relatives were happy to bury its owner and fight after the lion share of the inheritance. They were more reluctant to do the same to Casper. Which they will come to regret. 

Casper after all, like its namesake, was trained to be ridiculously good at thieving. If there was a small hole, Casper would find a way in it and being a cat, it was light enough to avoid triggering any weighted traps. Furthermore, 4 legs beats 2, allowing it to escape notice or pursue when necessary. 

Unlike its name, it isn’t actually fully white, instead it is black. Like many other black cats out there. Making it very hard to accuse and trace back to its owner. Alas, the one thing that Casper was unable to do, was to steal life. 

So after it was abandoned, Casper started using its skills to survive instead, grabbing food and making away with it. After hitting several places and causing them to tighten their security, it made for the easiest target, the royal pantry. 

After all, what were the cooks going to do, report their missing food to the royals?

So Casper started scoring its biggest loot to date, a continual food source and all the hidey-holes that it can find. So how did the signet end up in my hands you may ask? Well, apparently the royal secretary has a fondness of cats and a tendency to keep cat treats in their pockets. 

The very same pocket that holds the box for the signet...

What It Means

Signet refers to a seal used officially to give personal authority to a document in lieu of a signature, or to the impression made by or as if by such a seal.

[fmp2mt]

A game I tried to produced during my first FMP, Hells New Management was a roguelike that followed a bunny named David and an heir to hell called Sa10. The objective of the game was to find your way into the catacombs of hell and to kill a final boss that would change with the difficulty of the game, where you would retake the throne from sa10’s siblings who took claim of it first. 

This game is very personal to me during my two years of education as it was one of the first pieces of work I ever imagined for the course for my summer project before starting my first year.

I chose the roguelike genre back then due to my admiration, respect and love for games like Enter the Gungeon and Risk of Rain 2 that uphold a high level of quality and style that is beyond professional. 

I don’t know if I would have chosen this genre if I came up with the game today, as it became apparent that the roguelike had became very saturated and populated by the indie market, no doubt to how the genre could allow for the reuse of assets and enemies while also incorporating a sense of replay-ability into the main gameplay loop through RNG and challenge. Yet, even though the market has its fair share of games, I would still like to pursue Hells New Management in its original form if I did choose to use this game idea for my FMP.

I have come back to this idea due to my mind maps, where one of my words was retry, with this I looked into other times things had been attempted again, such as sequels and reboots where they were allowed to look back at an idea and try to develop it. By the end of it, I saw that retying an idea could allow for a improved game and product, alas, it could also lead to failure in the form of a lazy cash grab that wishes to add nothing or changes too little.

If I were to go back to this old project and retry trying to make it, I would like to see me add to it, story wise or art wise, to make a more comprehensive and interesting FMP.

To improve said game, I could use other research that I have done to add new mechanics or ideas. For example, after looking into Chinese dynasties, I was intrigued by the ideas that blood has value, with different kinds getting you different lives the main example of this being royalty, being borne into power such as the king and queens of places like England or the Emperors of old from the aforementioned China.

I then delved into other historical, medical and religious views of blood and how it has had such a large impact on the world in all aspects. Because of this, I wanted to integrate it into and FMP idea.

Blood and, in retrospect, bloodlines are already present in Hells New Management, with Sa10 having a right to Hells thrown due to his heritage to his now passed father Satan. There is also the mystery of David’s heritage, with his father being held in a mysterious darkness. 

I could try and develop these ideas of blood and relations further if I am to develop this as my FMP, perhaps I could put the story even more into the main objectives of the game, as I had always envisioned that dialogue would be plentiful to add a feature that is more subdued in its relatives, giving the game its own identity. I could also add new mechanics to the game, originally there were going to be upgrades that could be equipped before doing a run enhancing your abilities and skills, these could be changed to blood vials or sacks or other items related to blood, showing that blood has a hold of power in this world.

I also would like to come back to this old project due to its style, this project when for a look that is far more energetic and versatile, allowing more interesting designs and characters that have been slightly squandered in other works where I have gone for a more realistic and human output of artwork. By returning to this game, I could again create something more interesting and out there than if I went again for human characters who can only go so far before becoming an eyesore. However, by doing this I would be throwing away the chance to display my more complex and biological drawings that I have been producing, to remedy this I could merge the two styles together, keeping some characters more humanoid so I could still use it while still being able to add more varied enemies and characters.

If I was to used this game as my FMP, these are the guidelines that I would set myself:

Focus on the artwork and make it of high quality

Add more story and themes, such as adding character bios and sketches

Implement blood in some way, (items, story, etc)

Make sure, while similar and held to the originals philosophy, to add, change and develop previous ideas

These would be my necessary non-negotiables, a plan I would uphold myself to by the end of the project to see if I had come out the other end with what I would deem of high quality and presentation.

Overall, I think that returning to this project and retying to produce it would be fun while also showing how I have improved over the year following in its original conception, where I can see a physical change in my quality and style.

It would also be nice to have this as my final project, in a roundabout way, as it was technically what started me on this course.

I will think about if I want to choose this for my FMP, but it will be better to see other avenues that my FMP could take before going head first into producing and developing the ideas shown here. Nevertheless, This is so far my most compelling idea to manifest with multiple reasons for it.

Another idea I could pursue in my FMP is a new concept currently under the name Blood and Gears. The game would follow a robot of some which will be revealed to be a human who was assimilated into it. The story, inspired by games such as The Final Station (2016), will follow the protagonist who is trying to uncover their previous life and discover what set of events lead to their current state. This will lead to plot points relating to self, dreams and memories, as when I looked into these ideas due to my mind map they had caught my interest and I believe I could use them to further a story.

By the end, or close to it, the protagonist will discover that, while made of another person, their organs still beating inside them, that they are their own person who has no need or responsibility to live up to what they believed they were.

I thought that it would be more interesting to set the game in an actual pretty nice vista, as usually, when such ideas are brought up it inspires one to think of a post apocalyptic hellscape full of monsters and distress, but i think it would be far more compelling and frightening if everything was fine, perhaps not perfect, but alive like our own world. 

It would add a sense of unease and suspicion as the player wonders if their character is an outlier or if something is hidden beneath the surface.

I would like to incorporate memories and dreams into the game, as stated before, and by making our character a robot, (or a cyborg) I could be able to manifest them in game as something physical rather than leaving it as having your character going to sleep. I want to make the dreams and memories physical due to it, A, being far more interesting and unique and, B, it can be turned into a mechanic in game rather than something scripted like a cutscene. I wish to tap into the energy that Bungie uses in their own mechanics, with their own game’s having materialised such foreign and abstract ideas into a physical medium for play.

One way dream could be added to gameplay could be that you have to physical scrounge for them, while organic you are still comprised of metallic and robotic components that could allow reintegration of previous memories, this could also be used in puzzles, such as being able to look into the ‘memories’ of Cameras, seeing previous opponents movements allowing you to plan ahead or being able to look into someone else's past to find clues for puzzles or be able to alter it to forget you or change details.

This could lead to immersive sim elements, where you are set objectives but can get to them through multiple means. One idea that comes to mind is getting into a building, sadly, you find out you can’t get in without a reservation. You could now break in with force, causing guard to attack you, or you could sneak in when they are not looking or break in a back window and disguise yourself as staff, or, better yet, you could lure a guard to the side and knock them out, playing a game in their head to connect your name and appearance to an already booked reservation, letting you walk straight in with no hassle.

Of course, these Ideas would be hard to implement, especially by me, so I'd rather stick to the art and conceptual nature of them, showing how they could hypothetically work through illustrations and sketches.

And this is one of many ways you could manifest abstract ideas into gameplay in interesting ways, and if it was ever to be picked up and actually used by a company with talent and imagination that they would be able to make a stellar or at least interesting game from this.

Art wise, I would be inspired by the style of perhaps Art Deco, creating a futuristic landscape similar in memory of Prey (2017) where time has dilated and has changed modern aesthetics, or I could be linked to the works of H.R. Giger, or at least loosely, to make the robotic characters still feel organic but not too far to make them feel like actual flesh as with most of his work where they walk that very fine line.

I would also perhaps like to look at game environmental artists such as those at Digital Extremes, who's Corpus tile set also holds a futuristic but more robotic feel.

If I was to choose this idea to express into a FMP, I would like the following to be completed by the end of the project, that being:

Conceptual art of the main character in multiple forms (Damage / Health)

A piece showing the city location where the majority of the game would be set

Sketches or illustrations showing in game mechanics and abilities

A basic plotline, including locations and beats, of where the game would go with character bios

These would be my non-negotiables, and i think with the time I have to invest that this is an acceptable task to set for myself. While they might seem small, I’ll invest a large amount of time in bolstering the amount of work, so it won't be minimal. Other ideas might be added to these later on when the art and ideas of what they game could be converge later in the projects lifetime.

Overall, I think this idea is clever, interesting and diverse enough to create an interesting and verified FMP for me to create, allowing me to perform at my best while also having creative freedom flexible time to make a product. I liked how i implemented the basic ideas that I thought of in interesting ways and I wouldn't mind having this as my FMP.

Still, I would still like to look into other ideas to express more of my views and creativity that is still available to me so I can make sure that the idea I’m picking for myself is the best choice to do, because later i could start regretting my decisions and wish to restart, what could waste valuable time.

Lightning Dreamer is another idea that I want to see if I could retry during this FMP similar to Hells New Management. This was not an FMP, but another project that I tried to invision, sadly it went off track and divulged into a completely different idea, but if I were to consider trying it again for a FMP, I would follow my original vision for the project.

The game, set without any dialogue other than minor grumbles, would follow a recently escaped convict from a camp. You would try escaping from your captors for good by finding refuge in another country, unlucky for you, your escape, including some fellow convicts looking for freedom, has triggered a physical, and cruel, response from your captors who are patrolling the streets in search of you. 

You would merge with another group of escapees where side characters would be established before disaster strikes, only a few reman, and as you troge through more and more will fall, till only you and one other stand, only for your character to die and for you to take over your accompanying member just as they reach their freedom.

At this point, the game would have shown its presentation, being similar to Inside (2017), with a dynamic camera that moves to interesting locations to set the scene, being used also to induce emotions and feelings from the players. In this finale, we would be focused directly on the final survivor on their run out of the city, just for the camera to start slowly panning out, step by step revealing the true scale of what you have just achieved as you see the gargantuan wall of the city you escape come into view as it stands tall above you.

I would want multiple moments like this in game, showing the true gravitas of the situation, and because of other games using similar ideas, I know it's possible to implement, even if it would be hard overall to sequence everything together, it would be worth it by the end.

The main connection this game would have with my mind maps would be blood, as I wanted to look into the discrimination of familial relations while also looking into the Chinese, as viewed with the Chinese dynasties research. 

It might be unknown to some, but, Assumedly, China has been able to get away with atrocities in the modern day without any superpower of the world being able to stop them, one such atrocity that follows the footsteps of the Nazis and other camps of similar vein found in other areas, even America, is their, “Re-education Camps.” 

Rounding up Muslim ethnic groups, including the Uyghur population, China has been sorting them into camps where supposed shoot to kill policies are in place, allowing them to commit cultural and ethnic genocide against the innocent. Of course, China denounces these reports, citing a reduced presence of terrorism in the Xinjiang region and the prosperity it has been brought. And that’s not it, there are even more claims, such as conducting forced labour, with an assumed amount of 500,000 being used.

Other crimes follow:

Several countries, including the US, UK, Canada and the Netherlands, have accused China of committing genocide - defined by international convention as the "intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group".

The declarations follow reports that, as well as interning Uyghurs in camps, China has been forcibly mass sterilising Uyghur women to suppress the population, separating children from their families, and attempting to break the cultural traditions of the group.

The US Secretary of State, Antony Blinken, has said China is committing "genocide and crimes against humanity".

The UK parliament declared in April 2021 that China was committing a genocide in Xinjiang.

A UN human rights committee in 2018 said it had credible reports that China was holding up to a million people in "counter-extremism centres" in Xinjiang.

The Australian Strategic Policy Institute found evidence in 2020 of more than 380 of these "re-education camps" in Xinjiang, an increase of 40% on previous estimates.

Analysis of data contained in the latest police documents, called the Xinjiang Police Files, showed that almost 23,000 residents - or more than 12% of the adult population of one county - were in a camp or prison in the years 2017 and 2018. If applied to Xinjiang as a whole, the figures would mean the detention of more than 1.2 million Uyghur and other Turkic minority adults.

I wanted to make this game originally to be a representation of the atrocities and godawful treatment of their own people and those who have called china their home. Of course, this is not to blame the civilians of the country who have done nothing wrong, but to look into the terrible actions the Chinese Communist party has ensured have gone through. Other aspects of the game, such as the finale is based more on North Korea and the Demilitarized Zone in between it and South Korea which was chosen due to China's close ties to them, helping supply them.

Sadly, I don't think I will be able to make this game as I am too uneducated and naïve on the subject I want to tell. I know it’s a story that needs telling, but I fear that I will be unable to do it justice and will instead create a terrible product trying to tell a story to big for itself. This would be a problem that I can’t solve, as my subpar literature and creative writing skills are far too young to curate anything worthwhile.

Yet, if I were to produce this as my FMP, I would desire:

Pieces based on major events that would be found in game, (such as the finale)

Artwork separating the freedom seekers as the cities guard

A comprehensive narrative, perhaps including storyboards depicting scenes

Overall, I don't have high hopes that this product will be mad, as I know, I’m too uneducated on this sensitive and complex narrative that I have such little grasp over that any story I try and produce, even if it is set in a fictional city grasping basic philosophies from China, I would still feel unprepared and too unskilled to produce it to the level needed for the topic at hand. Compared to my other ideas, this is the least likely to be developed any further.

[andersunmenschlich]

Hey retard!

https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/france-s-reverence-for-intellectuals-shielded-michel-foucault-from-scandal/

Tranny ideology was codified by actual child rapist frenchmen 🤮

A woman is an adult human female and you will never change your sex or gender because one of those is fake but based on bio sex which is xy or xx chromosomes in your dna. Which is immutable. Fuckin clown 🤡

I so rarely get asks. This one is a bit of a let-down, isn't it? Non sequiturs aren't typically what I look for in correspondence. Oh well.

The salutation is inaccurate, alas.

The article is interesting, if you're interested in Foucault (who, despite the claim in the following sentence, is only one Frenchman). Personally, I never met Foucault and am not overly fascinated by his life—but to each their own.

I have also never heard of "trans ideology." What is it? What system of ideas and ideals is this, on which all of "not being comfortable with the gender one was assigned" rests?

Strange idea. It sounds rather like claiming that being autistic requires an ideology.

Well, my parents might agree.

I only flinch away from bright lights and loud noises because of "autistic ideology." If I didn't know it was possible and even acceptable to have extra sensitive senses, I would probably... well, suffer without allowing myself to so much as flinch, never mind cry out. Hmm.

One wonders how Elagabalus, Kalonymus ben Kalonymus, Eleanor Rykener and all the rest managed, given that Foucault hadn't been born yet.

Then we have the claim that "woman" only ever always means "adult human female."

Speaking a living language can be so frustrating, can't it? I know I hate it when words change their meanings on me. As a child, I inadvertently insulted a shy and very quiet boy by asking if he was dumb; as an adult I remain incensed by the fact that "literally" now also means "figuratively;" and so on.

It took me a long while to accept that sex and gender are no longer interchangeable. "Woman" does not always imply "female" anymore.

Consider this 2021 article from Yale School of Medicine, for example:

Next, consider the claim that gender is fake. In a sense, yes! It's every bit as fake as money: nothing but a social construct. And yet....

Follow that up with the assertion that sex can't be changed: well, it depends on which part of a person's body you consider most important in determining sex, doesn't it? Genitalia can certainly be changed, and that's all doctors look at when you're born and assigned a sex.

This person insists that chromosomes are what matter.

Now, most people don't even know what chromosomes they have! Some of us have both XX and XY, depending on which part of the body you look at. That's a possibility (believe me, I know). How do you, dear reader, know that you aren't one of these people? You might be.

So many people just assume that all their chromosomes "match" their external genitalia. Have you made that assumption? You could be wrong.

And, finally....

The sign off is accurate.

[morayoflight]

JADE BUTLER SIGN ME UP-

Okay but listen. It’s only a matter of time before reader and Jade start pinning for one another. But how would Jade react to some rando trying to court reader during a fancy party? Like trying to ask them to dance when they’re clearly not comfortable?

Ofc feel free to ignore this but thank you for reading :))

Hi anon! Thank you for requesting this! Somehow, I ended up writing an entire fic instead of just headcanons. I hope that's okay TvT

Butler!Jade reacts to someone trying to court the reader

*Gender-neutral terms for reader are used

Synopsis: You attend an acquaintance's party with Jade and someone happens to have their eye on you

Word Count: 1437

----

Jade may be your butler, but he also performs a multitude of roles for you-- one of them is being your chaperone to parties such as this. 

If you were allowed to be honest, you weren't excited about this party at all. It was something you had to attend out of courtesy, trying to keep up the family image, yada yada. 

So, you chose to loiter in corners with Jade instead. 

Jade, with that ever so pleasant smile of his, follows you everywhere like a dog leashed to his master. He would, from time to time, lean down and whisper to you the names and titles of the other lords and ladies who wished to extend their greetings. 

You couldn't care less about those people, so you never remembered them. Jade knew this day would come, so he took it upon himself to memorize basic information on every single person you've met in the parties you've attended in the past. 

Honestly, where would you be without him? 

Jade practically knew everyone in the room, and that is why his vision dimmed when he spotted a certain lord walking towards your direction 

"Ah, a wonderful evening, (Name)! It is a fancy meeting you here," the man says, taking your hand to place a kiss on top of it. You were laughing albeit nervously, trying to be polite, but Jade caught the way your body tensed up a bit. 

Oh, how badly he wanted to drag you away from this situation. Alas, he was just a mere butler and could not risk tarnishing your honor all because of a servant's misconduct. He does value his reputation only for your sake. 

Instead, his smile grew wider when the lord sent a nonchalant nod of acknowledgement to his direction. It was the kind of close-eyed smile he did whenever he was cooking up sinister plans in his head. 

The lord in question was none other than a bothersome man who has been relentlessly pursuing you ever since that one party weeks ago. 

He has sent you many things. From flowers, to lengthy romantic letters and lavish gifts, Jade has seen them all and he could not be more than happy enough to throw them out for you everytime you exhaled a big sigh and asked for them to be removed.

"Have you been standing here like a wallflower all this time? Have some fun! Here, why don't we dance?" the lord offers a hand to you, clearly expecting that you would indulge his invitation. 

Instead, you stared at his open palm, and fiddled with your own hands. 

"L-look, my lord, I am terribly sorry but I don't think I can--" 

"Nonsense! It has been so long since I last gazed upon you. You will grant me the honor of spending a fraction of your night with you, yes?" He completely cut your words off, grabbing your hand and prepared to drag you off to the dance floor. Now this was exactly your problem with this suitor, he is most assertive and inconsiderate.

Your head immediately spun to Jade, eyes screaming for help. 

How. dare. he. 

This abominable swine. 

This display of utter disrespect to his master set Jade's blood at boiling point that with one swift movement, he came between you and this poor excuse of a gentleman. 

Jade's gentle hands are on your shoulders, his back facing the man as he blocks you from eyesight with his tall stature. Looking back at the young lord, Jade smiles again. 

"I apologize, my lord. My master has been feeling unwell." 

The man raises an eyebrow suspiciously as he tries to peer at you past your butler. 

"They seemed fine to-" 

"My goodness! (Name), you are looking a bit flushed. Here, let me check your temperature," Jade exclaims, his voice laced with worry and concern, and maybe a bit of exaggerated dramatization. But it was enough to baffle the man who staggered back in confusion. 

Jade removes a glove and places his bare hand on your forehead, giving him an excuse to lean down and come closer to your ear. He starts whispering abruptly. 

"Pretend to faint. Now, if you will excuse me," 

Before you could even ask him what was going on, Jade discreetly trips your leg with his foot and you find yourself falling to his arms. Remembering what he'd whispered, you close your eyes shut and pray that your acting was just as good as your butler's. 

"(Name)! A-are they alright?" The man frantically shuffles closer, but Jade heaves you into his arms and faces the other direction before the young lord could even touch you. 

"They will be fine, my lord. Perhaps the party’s atmosphere is starting to weigh down on them. I truly do apologize, but I need to take my master home. I worry for their health, you see" Jade sighed, his eyebrows creased with pretend concern as he cradles you closer to his chest. 

The man coughs and straightens his back. 

"O-of course! I value their health too. Yes, do see to it that they are returned home safely. Then, I shall head back.”

Oh, how unreliable, Jade thought. This young lord could only pretend to be dignified but can do no good for his master. He did not even ask to come and escort them out. If he was so worried, he would at least want to send off the person he is so romantically interested in?

As expected of a failed, incompetent gentleman. 

Men who are shaken by the slightest of troubles do not deserve a place in his master's life or heart. They would not be able to protect such a precious existence.

“Ah, before I forget…” Jade starts, halting the lord’s receding steps.

He meets the man’s eyes with a cold, unfeeling stare. Jade’s heterochromatic irises tore through the young lord’s gaze. A predator assessing its prey, preparing to lunge. It was enough to send shivers down the latter’s spine.  

“My master possesses a kind and fragile heart, and I often find this to be a weakness but–”

Jade pauses, feeling a slight pinch in the middle of his stomach just where your hand rested. How fond, he thought, sending you a second-long loving gaze before fixating an even more hostile glare at the young lord. His soul must certainly be terrified now.

“Allow me to say this in their stead. They would very much prefer it if you kept your distance from them. No, in fact, this is my suggestion: please refrain from contacting my master for the rest of your life, for your sake.”

Satisfied with himself, Jade smiles and politely bids the stunned, trembling lord a good night. 

Indeed, it was always fun disposing of hindrances for his master.

It was not only until the coast was clear, and you had been placed safely inside the carriage did you crack one eyelid open. 

Jade  claps his hands, his smile a pleasant one. 

"Splendid acting, my lady/lord." 

You rolled your eyes and shifted in your seat. 

"Please, I merely pretended to faint. It was you who did all the work, so thank you, Jade." 

"I am humbled by your words," Jade places a hand to his chest, bowing his head slightly. 

But still, so much for a party. You wanted to wait for dessert and it was the entire reason why you stuck around for so long. How disappointing. 

Jade, ever so attentive, sensed your low spirits and cleared his throat to get your attention. 

"For tonight's dessert after dinner, we will have (favorite dessert)." 

It was exactly the thing you have been waiting for at the party. You stared at him in surprise and started laughing. 

"Ah, really. What will I do without such a competent butler? This is why I like you, Jade!" 

Your butler smiled, not hiding how pleased he is by your sentiment. 

"I like you too." 

"What?" Your laughter died in a split-second and you stared at Jade with your eyes too wide and mouth agape.

Jade snickered. Mischief glimmered in his eyes at the sight of his lovely master looking like a deer caught in headlights. He does enjoy teasing you once in a while. 

He certainly wasn't taking advantage of the fact that you were so forgiving and lenient towards him. 

"For being an easily pleased and easily flustered master, that is. Fufu. I do enjoy simple people." 

Heat traveled up from your neck to your ears. Out of embarrassment or anger, you didn't know. But you swore you looked as red as a tomato right now. 

"Jade!" 

But maybe, just maybe, your loyal butler meant every single word after all.