#the ship is implied spiritually

[barghuest]

I made this so I can print it out as motivation for my final year in college so I thought I'd share

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[decepti-thots]

It's really funny to me when people get so mad on Drift's behalf in MTMTE series one because they ignore Ratchet's actual motivation for needling him as hard as he does early on (that is, not the actual religion bit like people claim, the part where he thinks Drift is basically faking it to absolve his own guilt for his part in the war; see the Annual scene), but then hold up Rodimus as by contrast being kind to him and more worthy of his good graces as a result. Like... Rodimus. The guy who at the same time Ratchet was being a dick to Drift, was... responding to Drift not kissing his ass on demand 24/7 with apparently constant threats to throw him to the wolves as an ex-con everyone on the ship hated, but had to tolerate because of Rodimus' support, a fact which Rodimus apparently repeatedly held over Drift.

Like. Of the two, Ratchet being like 'I think your convenient religious epiphany is faked so you feel less guilty and face fewer consequences for your terrible behaviour' vs Rodimus going 'I can have you thrown in jail any time I like, you know' seems... uhhh. Well! It's a good thing both of these things are in fact not permanent features of Drift's relationship with either character and is in fact a setup for later character development, lmao. But personally, I think what Rodimus does is pretty clearly worse, season one wise. Ratchet's insulting about his thought-to-be-insincere esoteric spiritual beliefs; Rodimus makes him complicit in a crime via Overlord and insults him every time he doesn't answer a text in five seconds via implied threat, apparently!

To be clear. I love every permutation of these dynamics. I like Drift-Ratchet, Drift-Rodimus, and indeed Rodimus-Ratchet in basically all configurations; I find those relationships very compelling and interesting throughout the comic. I just find the insistence that 'Rodimus is better for Drift because Ratchet in s1 is sooo mean to him' sort of... hilarious, because if you've recently read s1 of MTMTE, uhhhh. WELL. If you want someone who's actually nice to Drift, the guy you're looking for is like... idk, Pipes seemed chill? Any way you slice it, though, it's. Not Roddy. Sorry.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Elements of Art

The elements of art are components or parts of a work of art that can be isolated and defined. They are the building blocks used to create a work of art.

LINE A mark with greater length than width. Lines can be horizontal, vertical, or diagonal; straight or curved; thick or thin.

Horizontal lines suggest a feeling of rest or repose because objects parallel to the earth are at rest. In landscape paintings, horizontal lines help give a sense of space. The lines delineate sections of the landscape, which recede into space. They also imply continuation of the landscape beyond the picture plane to the left and right.

Vertical lines often communicate a sense of height because they are perpendicular to the earth, extending upwards toward the sky. In a church interior painting, vertical lines may suggest spirituality, rising beyond human reach toward the heavens.

Horizontal and vertical lines used in combination communicate stability and solidity. Rectilinear forms with 90-degree angles are structurally stable. This stability suggests permanence and reliability.

Diagonal lines convey a feeling of movement. Objects in a diagonal position are unstable. Because they are neither vertical nor horizontal, they are either about to fall or are already in motion. The angles of a ship and rocks on the shore convey a feeling of movement or speed in a stormy harbor scene.

The curve of a line can convey energy. Soft, shallow curves recall the curves of the human body and often have a pleasing, sensual quality and a softening effect on the composition. The edge of a pool in a photograph may gently lead the eye to the sculptures on the horizon.

SHAPE A closed line. Shapes can be geometric, like squares and circles; or organic, like free-form or natural shapes. Shapes are flat and can express length and width.

FORM A three-dimensional shape expressing length, width, and depth. It is the basis of sculpture, furniture, and decorative arts. Balls, cylinders, boxes, and pyramids are forms. They can be seen from more than one side.

Geometric shapes and forms include mathematical, named shapes such as squares, rectangles, circles, cubes, spheres, and cones. Geometric shapes and forms are often man-made. However, many natural forms also have geometric shapes. Example, a cabinet decorated with designs of geometric shapes.

Organic shapes and forms are typically irregular or asymmetrical. Organic shapes are often found in nature, but man-made shapes can also imitate organic forms. Example, a wreath uses organic forms to simulate leaves and berries.

SPACE The area between and around objects. The space around objects is often called negative space; negative space has shape. Space can also refer to the feeling of depth.

Real space is three-dimensional; in visual art, when we create the feeling or illusion of depth, we call it space.

COLOR Light reflected off of objects. Color has 3 main characteristics:

Hue - the name of the color, such as red, green, blue, etc.

Value - how light or dark it is.

Intensity - how bright or dull it is.

White is pure light; black is the absence of light.

Primary colors are the only true colors (red, blue, and yellow). All other colors are mixes of primary colors.

Secondary colors are two primary colors mixed together (green, orange, violet).

Intermediate colors, sometimes called tertiary colors, are made by mixing a primary and secondary color together. Some examples of intermediate colors are yellow green, blue green, and blue violet.

Complementary colors are located directly across from each other on the color wheel (an arrangement of colors along a circular diagram to show how they are related to one another).

Complementary pairs contrast because they share no common colors. For example, red and green are complements, because green is made of blue and yellow.

When complementary colors are mixed together, they neutralize each other to make brown.

TEXTURE The surface quality that can be seen and felt. Textures can be rough or smooth, soft or hard. Textures do not always feel the way they look; for example, a drawing of a porcupine may look prickly, but if you touch the drawing, the paper is still smooth.

Texture depicted in two-dimensions. Artists use color, line, and shading to imply textures. In a painting, a man's robe may be painted to simulate silk. The ability to convincingly portray fabric of different types was one of the marks of a great painter during the 17th century.

Surface texture. The surface of a writing desk is metallic and hard. The hard surface is functional for an object that would have been used for writing. The smooth surface of a writing desk reflects light, adding sparkle to the piece of furniture.

Principles of Design ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[veetyuh]

I'm reminded of that "antishipping isn't purity culture because it isn't conservative christianity" post... And I think I've done some unpacking on why it triggers me so much.

I was an intersex child shoved into the role of a female, in a rural & conservative Christian environment. I've had not just purity culture shoved down my throat, but also the shame of not being able to meet the expectations put on women in that environment.

It's not just cover up, slut. That implies I had something to show off, to begin with. And men still want to ogle you and imagine what your body is like beneath that modest dress. So here, literal child. Have this shapewear to make your figure conform to that of a developing middle school female's under your clothes.

It's contradictory that way. You have to try to be unappealing to not 'tempt' men, but you still need to be appealing in the sense of conventional female attractiveness. Moreover, you must not think about men or sex at all. But you cannot be asexual — your parents demand grandchildren.

Antis do the same with their queer representation. It's the same contradictory expectations... They champion the idea of breaking societal norms through queerness (i.e. the idea of 'queer as in fuck you'), then demand that every nuclear family norm be met. Queer characters must be disruptive without actually disrupting anything. And the contradictions apply to fans, too — you're homophobic if you don't like a canon queer ship, and you're fetishistic if you like queer ships too much. (There are more, but I'd be stuck here forever if I listed them all. 😅)

There's also the obvious — fictional sins being as bad as things done in real life. There's Matthew 5, which includes so many popular verses about thought control that Christians use, and equates bad thought to bad doing.

27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell.

And fuck if antis aren't cutting off their entire goddamn arm and gouging out both eyes.

It's not just purity culture they embody, though — it's the satanic panic, too. Good lord the amount of times my grandma wouldn't let me watch Ghost Hunters because she thought I was welcoming demons into the home, or her concern for me watching horror movies because I'd surely become more violent. It's the same shit, different horse.

On a more light-hearted note, they play the same game that Christian demoninations do, too. I was Baptist, and considered the Methodists okay. But the Catholics? No, keep that shit away from me. Why are you worshipping Mary? That's idolatry! How horrible, to openly spit in God's face. When I read antis' DNI lists rattling off forbidden, unredeemable fandoms, it feels the same way, haha.

But what really seals the deal for me is how they smile in your face and promise they're just looking out for you. Christians do that, too. "We want you to get better. We want to help you. You're on a dark path." While they break your bones to force you into their mold. You may not be hurting anyone on your dark path, but they'll convince you that you ARE. You're hurting yourself "spiritually," you're hurting the community, your family, by being an abomination to God. You're hurting everyone and yourself, you just need us to help you realize it. Antis feel the exact same. I block them pre-emptively because I cannot handle having that shit directed at me again.

Moreover, their insults feel the same. The childish "icky," the ad hominems. It's too reminiscent for me. Of my mom hating my icky facial hair and my classmates making fun of my masc traits when they thought I couldn't hear; you are a gross person!!1! Ew!!!

It's funny that antis are so often anti-kink, considering they're so fucking intent on giving me a golden shower and telling me it's rain. I hope they're careful not to choke on the homophobic, pedophilic pastor cock they're sucking.

[regrator-the-ninth]

Do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dynamics remind you of XueXiao? Why?

So, anon, you've opened the Xuexiao/Hualian parallels floodgates... I strongly believe that Hualian are Xuexiao reincarnated for a second chance at happiness!

Here's why:

The overall vibes are there! The kindhearted, somewhat naive, and very powerful one trying to help people in a world with difficult and complicated problems x the morally dubious but surprisingly loyal one who does the necessary dirty work and makes the other smile.

The last act Xue Yang does to initiate their final confrontation is breaking Xiao Xingchen's door, first act Hua Cheng does for Xie Lian in the main canon timeline of TGCF is make a door for him.

Xue Yang attempted to revive Xiao Xingchen for 8 years, Hua Cheng waited 800 years for Xie Lian.

Xiao Xingchen descended his mountain at age 17 to help the common people. Xie Lian ascended to the heavens at age 17 to help the common people.

Hua Cheng is especially paranoid about Xie Lian touching corpse powder and committing suicide. Enough said.

Xue Yang tells Xiao Xingchen to never forget him when they part for the first time after Xue Yang's arrest. Xie Lian tells Hua Cheng to forget him when they part for the first time after Xianle's downfall and Hua Cheng insists that he won't.

There's a whole extra in the last book which is just giving Hua Cheng a reason to call Xie Lian "daozhang" and pretend to not know him.

Hua Cheng's sacrificed eye, Xiao Xingchen's sacrificed eyes, and Xue Yang's missing pinky... there's some synthesis of these in my head that I can't quite put into words but hopefully you see the vision (or lack of vision lol).

Hua Cheng's whole thing was that he had a very unfortunate childhood and would've died or become extremely fucked up like Xue Yang had been, but Xie Lian breaks the rules to save him, changing fate. If Xiao Xingchen had been there for Xue Yang as a child, things might've turned out differently.

Their whole relationship metaphor and what makes them work well together in fights is Hua Cheng transferring spiritual energy to Xie Lian regularly, just like what Xue Yang did to Xiao Xingchen.

Hualian can dual wield each other's spiritual weapons in a way that no other characters can, like Xuexiao.

Jun Wu tries to make Xie Lian evil and fails, and Xie Lian chooses to die over continuing down the route of evil as soon as he realizes what is going on, just like Xiao Xingchen did.

Xie Lian admits to revenge crimes he didn't do and Hua Cheng feels a need to right this injustice, a foil to Xue Yang dressing up as Xiao Xingchen to commit revenge crimes on his behalf, framing him.

Xie Lian was the only one who saw Hua Cheng's talent even when he was a complete nobody delinquent from an unimportant family, like Xiao Xingchen was implied to have done in the MDZS villainous friends extra.

Hua Cheng promises to come back after "dying" and Xie Lian just believes and trusts in him, as compared to Xiao Xingchen dying and Xue Yang trying desperately to bring him back, not believing that failure was an option.

There's more but this post is long enough as is...

[quetzalcoatl-law]

Thoughts about Miraluka Society

We'll probably never get actual Miraluka lore, i doubt disney will even acknowledge their existance. So I thought it'd be fun to imagine what their society would be like.

Miraluka forever see through the force, their connection to the force is so strong they can feel major events from other planets. Their vision allows them to see through objects, see the force, etc.

Thinking about this, implies their buildings and ships wouldn't need windows. Windows are structrual weaknesses and to a MIraluka would be irrelevant asf, as walls are basically windows. Even lights wouldn't be needed, the concept of light and dark would be entirely different to a Miraluka to others.

As their entire race sees through objects, things like nudity would mean very little to Miraluka. Although they can see the clothes you're wearing, they can also see through it (not intentionally). Because of how open their views are (pun intended) Miraluka would generally live amongst their own kind, non-miraluka would most likely find it awkward to live amongst the Miraluka because of just how much they see. Fortunately Miraluka are very emotional and understanding of other species, they wear coverings over their eyesockets because other species find it very offputting.

Because they can't see colours, their art would be based around the force or music. Miraluka art would be less about sight and more about feelings, their art would radiate certain emotional or spiritual feelings through the force. To a nonforce sensitive, it may look bland but they'd undoubtably be able to feel the emotions off of their art.

There are many objects in the Star Wars galaxy which are force sensitive, the most common are kyber crystals used for lightsabers but as all living things have the force, plants would be very beautiful to Miraluka and it's probably the only things they use to liven up their homes. Gardening and tending to plants would be considered a spiritual practice and very cathartic to a Miraluka.

[clawbehavior]

we're five episodes into Shogun, which means we're halfway through the series and all the major plotlines have been introduced and the characters characterized. and i'm starting to notice things. 

namely, toranaga is becoming increasingly unlikeable. it started when he abandoned blackthorne to die after being saved by the man hours earlier, but it reached its peak with the return of the young heir's mother and the reveal that she's using the council against toranaga to protect her son. because then what is toranaga going to war for? we were told via the dead king's widow that toranaga needs to protect the young heir against the council, but clearly that's not true. so what's he doing? it bothered me that toranaga could be so kind to the young heir, playing with him and advising him, while neglecting his own son, whose insecurity around his father was so transparent that he was easily manipulated into starting a war. but then i wondered if toranaga was showing his true self (his third heart) to his son. that scene where he says "you categorize everyone as enemies and friends when you only have yourself" implies that he sees everyone as a potential enemy, which can only happen if his self-interests are at odds with everyone else's. seeing the end of episode five, i think toranaga is not what he seems. we know he can be duplicitous. he plays uncle and nephew against each other so easily, getting rid of the problem of their growing power by doing so. i think the falcon motif that's ever present in the show represents toranaga, flying against the sun so his prey can't see him until it's too late (episode one). he's fooling everyone, including his allies, which brings me to my next point. 

mariko's story is not going to end well. i didn't know why this was a limited series with no chance of a season two until we got her backstory. mariko is straight up suicidal, just looking for a purposeful/honorable way to do it. if blackthorne can see this within days of meeting her, across a huge cultural divide and despite language differences, then toranaga has clocked this about her too, which doesn't bode well for her life. the mariko-blackthorne-husband love triangle subplot serves a deeper function of revealing her psyche to us.  she can't let go of her feelings of injustice and dishonor from her family's deaths. (the flashback we get of her past shows her father's haunted expression because that's how she remembers the event, with horror rather than disgust for his actions.) this is why she tells blackthorne the truth about her family when ordered to by her husband, even though blackthorne tells her to lie and tell him something else because her husband won't know. mariko can't let go of what happened to her family (and her husband doesn't let her). she's been spiritually dead for ages and the return of her husband from the dead not only means she cheated, which someone with her honor code can't live with, it means she cannot be happy with blackthorne. her tragic past coupled with her strong feelings towards honor/dishonor makes her easy for toranaga to use, though it's unclear for what.

interestingly, mariko and blackthornes' opposing ideologies are why they survived and found each other. mariko resists quietly, inside her soul (the eightfold fence), turning to her Christian faith and becoming devout and learned in Portuguese to speak with the priests. this is how she ends up as blackthorne's translator, a position of power and later romance. blackthorne, in contrast, resists outwardly and every step of the way. that scene where toranaga tells him to give up because he's outnumbered and blackthorne replies "unless i win" captures his character perfectly. he's going to fight until the last second, which is why he survives the journey to Japan, and why he gets separated from his men and integrated into a foreign culture, and why he steers the ship to safety rather than being left behind to die. that stubbornness to live shows up as a tendency for breaking all the rules, the result of which is meeting mariko and unintentionally getting her to fall in love with him. it's so fascinating how their ideologies have set them apart from their own people and brought them together while indicating their incompatibility. 

the show does a good job of layering characters and keeping them consistent, so i have faith that they'll return to yabushige's scary character. him torturing a sailor to death in pursuit of an existential question in a way so barbaric that it scares even the villagers did an excellent job in setting the tone of the show in episode one and setting the show apart from other historic period dramas. so it's disappointing to see him turn into a conniving goofball. hopefully this is a short term thing. 

i haven't been so intrigued by the political machinations within a show in a long while, probably since GoT. can't wait to see how the rest of it plays out 

gif below courtesy of @yocalio. look at toranaga's face shadowed in the sunlight. we don't fully know him.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Honestly I still think there was probably some cannibalism in the we are all starving and there are dead bodies around sort of way, and I’m interested to see if it will come up considering Aspen’s peoples’ spiritual beliefs, and how its implied the Texans inherited our distaste for it. I just think it would be interesting to see how both sides would react to it.

One thing that I've always found fascinating is just how rare it is for people to resort to cannibalism in times of famine. The vast majority of the time we let starvation and illness take us first. Occasionally you see it with extremely small groups put into sudden survival situations with acquaintances or strangers, but when nations or villages or tribes or large ships starve, they almost never eat each other for the purposes of survival. I don't know why.

Cannibalism wouldn't have had any effect on the Hylaran famine anyway. It might have bought a handful of people a few more days, but that famine was controlled from outside with the explicit purpose of killing a set number of people while leaving enough alive to keep the colony stable, like a Roman decimation done at a distance. If people lived loner than expected then they'd just have restricted the food for longer. It's possible that desperate people might eat their dead in such circumstances (although as stated, people almost never respond to famine that way in real life), but it wouldn't have affected the outcome and they'd know it wouldn't.

[leohtttbriar]

there's something really young about b'elanna. like i don't want to say "innocent" because that implies way too much, but the timbre is there? from some combination of her honesty and rawness, she seems like a skinny and lonesome stowaway that just happens to be the best engineer on board, and the depth of her understanding of the ship is balanced by her newness with so much else.

the fact that she's asking for spiritual guidance to begin with is sweet. the fact that she's asking chakotay, whose spirituality she's already loudly explained and defended when chakotay hadn't been able to himself, is doubly sweet. it's like she knows, through chakotay, that these answers exist and she's asking for them now, whether or not she would under any other circumstance and whether or not she would believe them. and it's significant because this circumstance is: simply waiting for something mysterious to happen, acknowledging there is nothing left to do, accepting powerlessness. which is almost like the whole of the voyager journey. b'elanna seems like the least concerned (sort of) with the fact of being thousands of light years from home given that she has professed to have no home to return to. the maquis, she said, were her home. chakotay is there who represents that home she found. so in this moment she is young in her acceptance rather than cold, reaching out for the intangible like a kid reaching for a telescope to see a shore beyond the curve of the earth. i don't know. it's just so sweet.

[duchessdepolignaca03]

Pulling a @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and queuing this to post at midnight! Cause I actually have something to share! I’ve got about 1/4 of my @aroyallybigbangrwrb written, so I may actually hit my deadline! 😊

Without further ado, an excerpt from Odalisque, or where Prince Henry is promised to Prince Alex from birth to serve as his concubine, and spends eight years of his life in seclusion to preserve his virginity. I like to think of this fic as the happy ending spiritual cousin of Rule Britannia.

“You smell different,” Prince Alex declares, apropos of nothing as he sits next to Henry in the sunken garden of Kensington Palace.

Henry is in a foul mood.

The arrival of the Americans for their summer visit is always incredibly disruptive to Henry’s otherwise peaceful existence, and he had little sleep the night before after his Mama’s stern lecture about how Henry ought to conduct himself in front of the American Prince.

It’s not the first time his Mama has made an appeal to the “sweet and obedient creature that must be in there somewhere”. But there had been something particularly unhinged and hurtful about his Mama’s lecture the night before, implying that all the fault for their enmity lay in Henry’s obstinance and not in Prince Alex’s impertinence and general propensity to be an absolute knob. Henry’s Mama pleads for him to grow up, and open his eyes to the possibility that Prince Alexander has matured, and grown into a fine, handsome young man.

His Mama is utterly in denial about the fact that Prince Alex’s appalling manners are incongruous with his external appearance, which even Henry can admit is conventionally – if not strikingly – beautiful. But even more incongruous to his appealing visage is his smell – which Henry wasn’t going to comment on until Prince Alex’s complete lack of self-awareness led him to unfairly question Henry’s own hygiene.

“Yes, and you stink,” Henry declares, pretending to gag as he scoots away . “I heard unemployment is very high in your country – can you not devote the excess labour to the production of deodorant?”

No pressure tags for the greats @sparklepocalypse @priincebutt @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @taste-thewaste @onthewaytosomewhere @orchidscript @piratefalls @bitbybitwrites @sunnysideprince @zwiazdziarka @firenati0n @magicandarchery @thinkof-england @getmehighonmagic @nocoastposts @happiness-of-the-pursuit @wordsofhoneydew @bigassbowlingballhead @itsmaybitheway @suseagull04 @yrsonpurpose @inexplicablymine @ships-to-sail @cha-melodius @leaves-of-laurelin and of course, anyone else who wants to participate!

[belovedstill]

when the candle goes out (light up your own) (ao3) svsss, yuefang | T | 4.3k, post-canon, hurt & comfort, past qijiu, implied spiritual self-harm, anxiety & depression spiral, before they get together (more on ao3)

After the successful prevention of the realm merge, Yue Qingyuan let Shen Qingqiu go. Too bad his heart didn't catch up. In which, after everything settles into quiet and dark, Yue Qingyuan battles with familiar habits, Sect Leader questions his purpose, Yue Qi fights and mourns the past, and Yue-shixiong finally gets some rest — all in the comfort of Mu Qingfang's presence.

written for @ficwip's all-ships ship week event, for day 1's prompt of "I didn't know where else to go". check the event out and join us in celebrating your ship 🥺

Full fic on ao3 & under the cut

After Shen Qingqiu leaves with Luo Binghe, it’s as if the Mountain’s spirit has left with him. Or so Yue Qingyuan thinks.

It shouldn’t feel that different; it’s been a long time since he actively, repeatedly tried to reconnect with Shen Qingqiu and keep some kind of relationship with him, apologise, try to talk to him. It’s been a long time since his efforts were rebuked time and time again.

A long time since he essentially gave up, darkening Shen Qingqiu’s step less and less often. By the time Shen Qingqiu left the Mountain, it’s been months since Yue Qingyuan visited the bamboo house on his own, with a matter entirely unrelated to peak matters (even if thinly veiled as such). It has been a long time, then, too, since this tense, strange silence has filled his life.

This time, though, Yue Qingyuan swears it's different.

Back then, Shen Qingqiu was still there, on the Mountain, on his Peak, in his house — perhaps not waiting, perhaps not even available, but there, somewhere familiar. A known distance away. If he only wanted to, Yue Qingyuan could go to him and pay a visit, undesired as it was. He’d be met with a cold, stern face in candlelight, a sharp remark, a refusal of entry — and then a door left wide open after a rigid silhouette had disappeared indoors.

He could go there anytime. He wouldn’t, of course. But he could.

Now, though — now the Qing Jing Peak Lord’s dwelling houses nobody, even if it is still full of the lord’s belongings.

Shen Qingqiu has vowed to come back from time to time, to keep up with his duties, to guide his disciples, to keep his peak running — but Yue Qingyuan knows with an alarming clarity that something has changed, irreparably, irrevocably.

Years and years ago, what could very well be several lifetimes, for all it felt like, two slave children vowed to run away someday. They waited for the right time, for the right place, for a safe enough opportunity which never came. They got separated. One ran away. One had to stay back.

One was left behind.

The one who was left behind managed to leave, in the end—just not with Yue Qi, and not from slavery.

With Luo Binghe — a demon lord — and from the chains of the past.

Yue Qingyuan has been a noose around his neck which tightens with each hopeful glance and each hopeful word.

…This way, at least, Shen Qingqiu is truly free, isn't he?

Some of these evenings, he ends up on Qing Jing, wandering mindlessly up the stone path leading to the peak lord’s residence. The late autumn air is crisp in his nostrils. Were he not a cultivator, it would surely hurt.

Evenings are cold and dark, with only the moon illuminating the way, and that’s only when the nights are cloudless. Somehow, whenever Yue Qingyuan visits the peak, now or in the past, the moon is always clouded over, rendering any light gone.

In the past, it didn’t pose much of an issue — he could always find his way to the lone bamboo house. Shen Qingqiu kept a candle burning in a lantern set in his window, conveniently facing Qiong Ding.

Yue Qingyuan makes his way up the stone path in total darkness now and trips over a lone stone in his way.

“Who’s there?”

The peak’s lord might be gone, but his disciples remain.

Left behind, Yue Qingyuan’s brain whispers, even though he knows it’s not the case.

“Stand down and do not fret, disciple Ming Fan,” he says in a tone much calmer than his heart. He hasn’t tripped since his own disciplehood.

Ming Fan recognises him in an instant. “Zhangmen-shibo!!” Robes rustle. He must be bowing. “Can this Ming Fan help in any way? What reason has Zhangmen-shibo to visit the peak?”

He doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t even remember leaving his own dwelling.

“No need for concern,�� he answers instead. “This evening was simply… A good time for a stroll. No official matter. Disciple Ming Fan may rest and return to his duties.”

The boy used to be ignorant. Now, even in the darkness, Yue Qingyuan feels his inquisitive gaze. He knows his respects, however, and soon Ming Fan bows again and takes his leave.

He stops after a couple of steps and turns his way again.

“Zhangmen-shibo surely knows this,” he says in a hesitant tone, “but Shizun is not currently on the mountain… He’s—”

“I know.”

Ming Fan shuts his mouth. His clothes rustle in a bow again and he leaves without another word.

Yue Qingyuan feels for the rock with his foot and pushes it away. His next steps are more careful.

The candle lantern is gone from the window, even unlit, cold and flameless.

When did it disappear? When was it hidden away, the light leading his way stolen, taken away, kept from him?

When has Shen Qingqiu given up on him for the final, permanent time?

The lantern was there when the Qing generation ascended. It was there when Shen Qingqiu suffered his first qi deviation as a peak lord. It was there when he took Luo Binghe in as a disciple, when Yue Qingyuan first found out about the boy’s punishments, and whenever he came over for visits under the guise of sect-related matters.

It was there the morning he sat at Shen Qingqiu’s bedside, waiting for him to rouse from his fever, only for the man to wake up different.

He doesn’t remember seeing it during any of the other peak lords’ attempts at testing Shen Qingqiu for possession. He distinctly recalls seeing it gone after the Qiong Ding demon invasion, when he waited at Shen Qingqiu’s bedside — again — after returning to the sect to find him struck with poison and thinking him at death’s door.

His eyes didn’t focus on many things that day. He brushed the lack of the lantern in the window simply as it being daytime.

…has he seen it since?

He doesn’t remember. It’s not like he visited that often. Shen Qingqiu has since seemed to have lost his sharpness; for some reason, it brought him no relief.

The bamboo house is dark, cold, and empty. Yue Qingyuan’s heart clenches in sympathy.

With no light to follow, he turns back and leaves.

Sometimes he wonders what the point of it all is.

The world. The sect. Cultivation. Him.

What is the point of Yue Qingyuan? In the past, he had a clear answer. In the past, the point of Yue Qingyuan was to protect, to keep safe. Even if it meant he had to withdraw into the background, the point of him was to make sure others could live as peacefully as possible.

That was his Shizun’s — the past Sect Leader’s — reasoning for choosing him as the next in line, at least.

He had magnificent spiritual aptitude, they said, and he was capable of leading and protecting those in his care.

He remembers feeling as if he were observing himself hearing those words, standing just to the side, disconnected.

Impostor, his own voice whispered in his mind, at himself. You’ve fooled them all. Who are they speaking about? You couldn’t protect the one person that really mattered; how could you protect the whole sect?

He remembers watching himself open his mouth, face blank and eyes unseeing, and saying — and saying…

“Shizun… This one is not worthy…”

“Humble, too,” the Sect Leader remarked, all the while shooting him a warning look, displeased that he was undermining her decision. “A quality a sect leader should have.”

His face looked green, but none of his seniors seemed to notice.

He doesn’t think anybody has noticed, ever.

He sits on his own bed, one hand on the sheath of his sword and the other on the hilt.

If a demon has made Shen Qingqiu feel safer, more secure than Yue Qingyuan… If getting away from him was what finally brought him freedom…

…maybe he should relinquish the sect, too.

The candlelight is gone. Yue Qi draws the sword.

Life energy drains.

He sits like this with eyes closed.

One minute passes. Two.

Five.

Ten.

He feels — lighter, with each second that passes.

Relief.

This way, everything will finally be right in the world again.

Coward, hisses a sharp voice in his head, his memory, his soul, so loud and clear, it knocks all sense back into him.

He wakes up from the trance with a violent gasp and slams the sword back into the sheath.

Xiao Jiu is right, as always. Qi-ge’s a foolish coward; he will listen to him instead.

A Sect Leader who is ready to throw away his life surely doesn’t deserve to keep the title.

He should keep his life as punishment.

Qian Cao is believed to be quite similar to Qing Jing — just as peaceful, just as quiet — but it feels different. Despite the late hour, or maybe exactly because of it, each path is well-lit by glowing plants growing on either side. Even in his weakened state, Yue Qingyuan has no chance to trip. The paths are even and void of any stubborn rocks and pebbles, too.

Mu Qingfang’s healer quarters are still glowing with warm light despite the halls currently housing no patients. It makes sense for the beds to be empty; after all, the only people who were hurt in any way in the past events are not around, or have been healed already — or are standing at the very steps.

It takes him several moments to make himself knock on the healer’s door, and in the end he doesn't even manage to do that before Mu Qingfang opens the door himself. Clearly, Yue Qingyuan isn’t somebody he’s expected to see.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” he greets in surprise. His eyes quickly turn assessing. “Is everything alright?”

Yue Qingyuan smiles on instinct, and just as habitually opens his mouth to reassure—

Coward.

“No,” he says instead. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Mu Qingfang blinks. Yue Qingyuan swallows, surprised just as much, if not more.

Then, the healer steps back. “Allow this shidi to try to help.”

He walks in.

Mu Qingfang does not look happy after checking his spiritual veins.

“Zhangmen-shixiong should be more careful with his health,” he chides. “He knows his circumstances are fragile. How will he ascend to godhood along with his sect siblings if he has no life force left when the time comes?”

Ah. Ascension. He’s forgotten about it.

In some ways, having Xuan Su consume his life force truly is a blessing. It could keep him in the mortal realm where he belongs.

At least then Shen Qingqiu will truly be rid of him.

…Will he even choose to ascend, without Luo Binghe? Perhaps the demon will break another taboo and follow right after?

“Zhangmen-shixiong? You’re shaking.”

He hasn’t even noticed.

“Yue Qingyuan,” he whispers. “Yue Qi.”

Mu Qingfang frowns. “What—”

“No titles. Please.”

The pause that follows is so long, he believes Mu Qingfang won’t abide by his request. But then—

“Yue Qi,” the healer says, softly and with such sympathy that it reaches deep, deep inside of him and squeezes.

Mu Qingfang is the closest thing he has to a haven. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what his past consists of, or where he came from, or what exactly his motivations were when he entered the sect — it all concerned Shen Jiu, and Shen Jiu was deeply, deeply ashamed of his past. Protecting his pride was worth never being truly known — he knows more than anybody else still on the mountain.

“Yue Qi.”

Ah, he’s talking.

“Clear your mind.”

“I can’t.”

“Your qi is getting disturbed. Clear your mind.”

“He left.”

“Shen-shixiong will come back, safe and sound. He said so himself,” Mu Qingfang says without any doubt. He presses his fingers to Yue Qingyuan’s wrist and starts a qi transfer. “Clear your mind.”

The qi feels cool and calming. Familiar. His own spiritual veins accept it immediately.

Mu Qingfang’s eyes bore into him with curiosity, calculation, which eventually settles on understanding. Yue Qingyuan can’t bear to see the emotion that’s born out of it.

“Shen-shixiong seemed unburdened when he left the mountain,” Mu Qingfang says, as if it’s a throwaway observation, meant to share the same weight as mentioning the weather.

It’s meant to soothe, but to him it has the opposite effect; it claws his chest apart. Yue Qi feels as if he’s all figured out.

“Mm.”

“Yue Qi seems to be convinced that he won’t return.” Why would he? “But hasn’t Shen-shixiong always returned, no matter the circumstances?”

That he has. No matter his age, or the level of displeasure with Yue Qi, or the sorrow the mountain reminded him of, Shen Qingqiu always came back in the past. Maybe because, before, he had no other place to call home.

Now, though, he has left to accompany the demonic emperor, that Luo Binghe, who no doubt has a dwelling of his own. A lord’s palace, most probably.

The candle is not the only thing that’s disappeared without an explanation, he realises with a start. One day, Shen Qingqiu hissed at him to stop haunting his doorstep, to keep the sect matter talks to the peak lord meetings, all the while keeping the teapot warm.

The next, the contempt was nowhere to be found in his face. It was as if the fever burned away any feelings he had towards Yue Qingyuan — towards Yue Qi — and left only a blank slate. Perhaps to anybody else it would have been a relief, but to Yue Qi it was a life sentence. There was no fixing his mistakes any longer; and if his chance was gone, there was no healing, either. An infinite penance.

“Isn’t it all right now?”

Yue Qingyuan looks up blankly. Mu Qingfang’s eyes are focused and gentle.

“Shen-shixiong is happy and others welcome and seek out his company. There are fewer and fewer people able and willing to harm him, and he himself strays from unnecessary violence. Zhangmen-shixiong...” Mu Qingfang lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Yue Qi. This one has long suspected that you and Shen-shixiong have a shared past, and with Madam Qiu’s confession and everything that followed, this one has started putting some long-collected pieces together.”

Yue Qingyuan’s breath freezes in his throat.

It's not even about his secret. If anything, as the sect's primary healer, Mu Qingfang had to have been informed of any health related dangers potentially befalling the sect leader. He knows, just like Yue Qi’s own shizun knew, how Yue Qingyuan’s sword hungers and feasts on his own life once out of its sheath.

It's not about the secret. It's not even about Yue Qingyuan's failure.

It's about Shen Jiu—Shen Qingqiu’s past, the past Shen Qingqiu’s always been so ashamed of, the same past Yue Qi has long sworn in his soul to protect.

If Mu Qingfang’s realisation is in any way guided by Yue Qingyuan’s indiscretion…

Cold weight settles in the pit of his stomach. Failure—his life’s constant companion—turns even more bitter.

Isn’t it alright now? Mu Qingfang has asked, and Yue Qingyuan—Yue Qi—knows it should be. Shen Qingqiu’s happiness should make all the difference.

…but with the lack of sharp looks and the pull at his guilt, and the poking at his conscience, nothing feels right anymore. It’s as if he’s a parched man after years wandering the desert, and his only thirst-quenching flask has just run out of liquid poison. Now, Mu-shidi is offering him chilled water, and it will keep him alive, but the drink will forever lack the familiar relief.

No.

Yue Qingyuan mentally slaps his own face for daring to even think of Shen Jiu as poisonous. Yes, he can be sharp-tongued. Yes, he keeps to himself and rejects any form of help, and lashes out at anybody who crosses an invisible boundary. Shen Jiu who, despite his years and life experience, is a child at heart: distrustful, and suspicious, and ready to leave everything and everyone but Qi-ge — and run far away if only it proved more beneficial.

(...is the Shen Qingqiu who left the mountain with Luo Binghe still the same person? His words are softer now and only their meaning feels sharp. He asks for help, sometimes, and doesn't lash out anymore.)

(He still ran away.)

(Without Qi-ge.)

(More beneficial this way.)

In the moment of silence that follows, with Yue Qingyuan’s eyes dim and Mu Qingfang’s speculating, something shifts. Mu Qingfang briefly tightens his hand on his shoulder, then strokes it soothingly.

“Yue Qi must have gone through a lot in his life,” he says in a gentle tone, more a friend than a healer now. He pulls his hand away and sits right next to him on the patient’s bed. Yue Qingyuan follows his movements half-heartedly in the peripherals of his vision.

Mu Qingfang puts a comforting hand over his wrist and sends forward a soothing stream of qi — not examining, not healing — just comforting. A connection.

“It’s only natural that he’s afraid to let go of what he knows.”

Part of him wants to bristle at being laid so bare. He can’t be afraid. He shouldn’t be afraid. He can’t afford to be afraid.

Beneath Mu Qingfang’s familiar touch, though, maybe it’s not — maybe it’s not so shameful to admit that — that sometimes, when he’s alone after another nightmare of charred remains of the sect, the bodies of his martial brothers and sisters and their disciples, youths never even blossomed, piled on top of one another among the ruins of ash-laden mountain peaks, spiritual caves long depleted and destroyed, the rainbow bridge shattered to pieces — that he’s afraid, so afraid that he’ll fail, that’s it’s just a matter of time…

Life moves in cycles, and the cycle of Yue Qingyuan’s is a constant of failures and too lates and almosts and not enoughs.

“However, what Yue Qi knows is not all that there is.”

Not all…?

His blank look must tell Mu Qingfang everything he needs to know: he smiles and curls his fingers around Yue Qingyuan’s wrist, a stable presence. The qi he sends forward feels warmer.

“Yue Qi’s past was full of difficulties. To aid him through them, to protect him from them, his mind developed… shields.” Mu Qingfang tilts his head in consideration. “Many of them. Shields are perfectly reasonable to carry when there’s danger around. Holding one in battle is exactly what one should do.”

Yue Qingyuan’s heart aches at the onslaught of past memories: small phantom nails digging into the skin of his arm, desperate promises urged and given freely, eyes full of terror and blood and fiery smoke, and cold winter-morning-like clarity… The need to protect, to rescue, to keep safe. If he fails—if it’s gone—what purpose does he have?

Mu Qingfang’s voice drifts around him like a fog, wraps him in a cocoon of cover nearly tangible on all his senses. He continues, as if there was never any break (Was there? How long has he been here?):

“What if the battle is long over?” The words, combined with the stream of qi receding, shatter something deep within Yue Qingyuan. He startles and clutches to Mu Qingfang’s hand with his free one, keeping it in place before it can move away.

Begging again, does he ever do anything but beg?

Mu Qingfang covers that hand of his with his own. Comforting. Grounding. Not leaving. “Does carrying the many shields offer protection or does it hinder one’s every move?”

When Yue Qingyuan turns his head, Mu Qingfang is already looking at him with a warmth both alien and familiar at the same time.

“Yue Qi,” he says, so gently Yue Qingyuan’s soul aches. “The battle is over. You have survived. Put down your shields.”

He would. He really would, if it were that easy.

“I told him,” Yue Qingyuan whispers instead. And, shockingly, Mu Qingfang doesn’t look reproachful, but—proud? Glad? Encouraging? Why? “I told him everything.”

“Mm?”

There’s a moment of surprise. He’s frozen in his seat, overwhelmed, his tongue heavy with all the words flooding his mouth all at once now that there’s somebody willing to listen.

Mu Qingfang seems to understand. He takes the lead and asks, “How did he react?”

“He listened. To everything. Didn’t want to talk. Cut ties to our past.”

“What did you want him to say?”

What did you expect him to do, after everything you’ve done? Yue Qingyuan hears in that question, and has to chase the thought away. That’s not what Mu Qingfang’s asking.

What did he want Shen Qingqiu to say back then?

He wanted him to know that he’d never forgotten about him. That Qi-ge had always been searching for a way back. That Qi-ge had failed to listen to him even after they’d parted, and recklessly rushed into cultivating as fast as possible. That he’d suffered a set-back and had been imprisoned against his will, with nobody listening to his cries and reasonings and pleas.

That he’d gone back for him, but all he’d found was rubble.

That he was sorry.

And he wanted—he wanted Shen Qingqiu, knowing all of this, to look at him again, really look at him, and cling tight to his arm, and shake him, and say, Stuipid Qi-ge! How many times do I have to tell you not to be reckless? Look what you’ve done, look where it all got us!

And he wanted him to say, I’ll just have to stay here and keep an eye on you so you don’t do it again.

And the words, no matter how harsh and sharp, would mean—

“‘You’re forgiven.’”

All of him shakes under the thundering typhoon of shame crashing within him—his body, his thoughts, his voice, his vision, all swimming—and sinking—and caving in—

“Yue Qi,” Mu Qingfang says softly, yet somehow his voice rings loud and clear over the chaos in Yue Qingyuan’s mind. “You’re forgiven.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple.”

It shouldn’t be.

The comforting qi is back.

“It is that simple. You’re forgiven.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Then tell me.”

“...I can’t.”

“That’s okay. You’re forgiven.”

“Why?” he asks, finally.

Mu Qingfang’s hands tighten on his in a reassuring hold. “Because you’ve long since repented, no matter what you’ve done, and there’s no more repenting for you to do.”

“Then why—” he chokes on the words, like they’re trying to suffocate him not to let them out. He shuts his eyes and forces them out anyway. “Why—does it—feel like—it’s not—enough—?”

“Perhaps it’s not Shen Qingqiu whose forgiveness you need.”

Not Shen Qingqiu’s—?

“Yue Qi,” Mu Qingfang says, then repeats his old name again and again until Yue Qingyuan opens his eyes and looks at him. “Put down that load. It’s time for you to forgive yourself.”

Himself…?

It’s such an absurd idea—that he could ever dare to allow himself to simply let go, with no consequences—that something in his mind is knocked into place, and the overwhelming fog disperses, and his vision clears. He stares at Mu Qingfang in utter confusion, eyes clear and his qi stabilising.

Shen Jiu will never forgive me, he thinks for the hundredth, thousandth, millionth time, but this time—this time it tastes different. This time, it’s a realisation with no hope woven between the words, teasing at the possibility and stringing him along. This time, it feels final.

The candle has burnt out. The lantern has been hidden. No one's lighting it again.

The battle is over.

The survivors have moved on.

There is no closure. Without the other half of his past, there really is nothing he can do—nothing that would ever be enough—to right this wrong.

It will all remain with him.

It should be destroying him. It should be crushing his mind into a pulp and breaking his soul into countless shards for him to step on for eternity.

What he feels instead is relief; empty, lonely, peaceful.

When he speaks next, his voice no longer trembles.

“I don’t think I deserve to.”

It sounds right, like a fact he’s always hoped to disprove, but now that he’s found solid proof, he can only accept it and move on.

Mu Qingfang watches him with all the care a healer—a sect sibling, a friend, a confidant—could possess.

“Yue Qi.”

He smiles, and it’s as sad as it’s relieved. “Yue Qingyuan.”

“Yue Qingyuan,” Mu-shidi echoes, and squeezes his hands again before moving his touch up his arms. “You deserve forgiveness.”

He waits for the familiar turmoil to come back, to rage against the mere notion, to slam within his ribcage with all the pained conviction.

It never comes. The strange peace remains.

“If Mu-shidi says so.”

It’s not meant to sound dismissive, and Mu Qingfang seems to sense it, because he steels his face into pure certainty and nods, confidence and dedication brimming in his eyes.

“I know so,” he says. His hands feel secure where they hold his arms.

Only when his eyelids grow heavy does Yue Qingyuan realise these very hands have supported his weight all the while.

“I’m very tired,” he admits through the sudden weakness taking over his limbs. As if together with the heaviness and chaos and the load he’s carried within, for two lifetimes, his soul has decided to leave, too.

Weightless.

He tightens his fingers on Mu Qingfang’s robes not to fly away, nor sink underground.

Mu Qingfang firms up his grip in response. “I know. I’ll help,” he assures. “Lean on me, Yue-shixiong. Rest.”

He goes willingly—lets go of any remaining control and sinks where Mu Qingfang’s hands guide him.

Mu-shidi smells like healing.

“I’ll be here,” Mu Qingfang whispers near his ear.

The flame dancing within the candle lantern in the room dims down to a comfortable shade.

The pressure on his head releases with the removal of his hair guan.

Gentle, secure arms hold him close.

Yue Qingyuan closes his eyes, all shields down, and rests.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think about the claims that Aang’s anti killing Is hypocritical because of the Blue Spirit’s rampage and it’s possible that people died when Aang would defend himself and his allies?

If we were to apply real world physics, biology or just common sense to the story, the show would not happen because Aang would have died inside that iceberg - no scratch that, there wouldn't be a story because HUMANS CAN'T CONTROL THE GODDAMN ELEMENTS!

Katara, Aang and Sokka would have also died, or at least being severly injured, with lots of broken bones, and possibly paralyzed from the waist/neck down after their attempt of using the Omashu mail system as a rollercoaster.

Firebenders should accidentally burn themselves all the time since their flames are always either dangerous close to their skin or directly touching it as they are created. Don't even get me started on lightning, especially with stuff like Iroh redirecting lightning FROM THE GODDAMN SKY. Toph should have also gotten severe burns in the finale because of that full-body armor she made with ABSURDLY HOT METAL and that was in direct contact with her skin.

Realistically, Sokka should have not have been able to help evacuate an entire village with not previous plan to do so like we saw him do in "Jet." The man Haru and Katara saved in "Imprisoned" should have been very hurt after all those rocks fell on him, and the fact that no died in that metal ship after all the COAL they threw at FIREBENDERS is absurd.

When the pirates put explosives in Zuko's ship, there's a split second where we can see he created a fire-shield - that would in now way in hell be able to allow him to just be walking around the following episode, with just a few superficial burns that are already healed in season two.

In the season one finale, Zhao very clearly aimed his flames at BOTH koi fish, yet only the one with the moon spirit died. Everything also becomes black and white for no real reason since the moonlight has nothing to do with how humans see things

For fuck's sake, the show full on says "AANG DIED AND KATARA BROUGHT HIM BACK FROM THE DEAD!"

Avatar is a children's show AND a cartoon. It operates on cartoon logic - aka, unless death is explicitly mentioned (Gyatso, Kya, Aang) or VERY heavily implied (Zhao, Jet, Combustion Man) we are supposed to assume that, somehow, everyone survived. The fact that fandom can accept EVERYTHING being unrealistic, then complains that people Aang fought survived the impossible just screams "I don't like that this character in a kid's show doesn't go around murdering every enemy in his path!" or "I don't like Aang because he got in the way of my ship, so I'll take any excuse to pretend he is actually a terribly written character everyone should hate!"

As for the Koizilla situation in particular, lets not forget that the very next episode has Aang having nightmares about it and showing that he very clearly does not know how to control the Avatar State, how it works, or even what it is. Roku literally shows up to EXPLAIN that stuff to him. HOW can we hold Aang accountable for something that was not his decision?

Once again, because of cartoon logic, the only sort of confirmed death was Zhao - and that one was 100% on the Ocean Spirit, since he had already split from Aang.

Not to mention "this person accidentally died because of one of my actions" is not always the same as "this person died because I chose to kill them." It's like the difference between a car crash where the driver wasn't able to stop in time VS literally shooting someone in the face.

Plus, in the finale Aang even reached the conclusion that, if he had no alternative, he WOULD kill Ozai, even though that would obviously take a great psychological/spiritual toll on him, because it would be ONE LIFE TAKEN AS A WAY TO SAVE THOUNSANDS, and even before that he had no problem with things like Sokka killing Combustion Man or even full on admiting "Fire Lord Ozai is a terrible person and the world would probably be a better place without him".

It's pretty clear that, even if Avatar DID go there and said "sometimes people died in battles against the Gaang", it would still NOT contradict Aang's beliefs, and therefore he is NOT a hypocrite, and the idiots of the fandom can die mad about it.

[jubilantmedusa]

Are you still taking requests? There's a fic titled "The Prince and the Admiral" by Buridanio and I would love to see your interpretation of what happens next! Aka, Iroh takes Zuko to see Ran and Shaw and there's also a lot of Zuko, with the help of Iroh, healing from his traumatic experiences <3

I almost missed the word “what happens next” element 🤣 and just thought your meant "interpretation" as "how would you write this?" My reading comprehension sometimes...

Don’t plan on writing this, but I will play the brainstorming game.

I’d never read “The Prince and The Admiral” before. I liked it! It is a lovely little aching fic. I like the way the author characterized Zhao especially, and how self aware Zuko was that it would be wiser to throw him overboard. And the sprigs of hope at the end, awww.

--

For anyone who's not read this fic, a small recap (Spoilers):

Iroh was exhiled prior to the Zuko's banishment. So after the Agni Kai, Zuko is sent to hunt the avatar with Zhao as his companion. Zhao horrifically abses him, including SA. When Zuko's fifteen, Hakoda & crew capture Zhao (badly injured) and Zuko (not injured) and sink their ship. They notice immediately that Zuko is not right, bordeing catatonic. Hakota is hesitent to kill Zuko as he probably should, especially since he knows about Zuko's banishment / he can't use Zuko as a bargaining chip. They question Zhao and Zuko and eventually learn the extent of the abuse Zhoa inflicted. He is thrown overboard. Hakota lets Zuko work on the ship, asking him every night where he would be safe. Eventually, Zuko opens up and tells Hakota that Iroh would care for him. Before his exile, Iroh hinted to Zuko about the Sun Warriors Ancient city. Eventually Hakota is able to get him there. He is reuinted with Iroh and they embrace. Iroh implies he'll take Zuko to see Ren & Shaw, and says there is hope in the world because the Avatar has returned.

This is a bit different for me. Most of my stories are "and then this specific thing happened differently, and so instead of B, C happened". This is a more pure AU where the whole premise is upended. I don't know if I have a singel AU like that in my ideas list now! So here we go --

--

First Try - Recovery Fic

If this story was continued, I think there are a few promises that it’s made that I would either need to make or break:

Zuko will meet Ran & Shaw and they will find him worthy

The avatar has returned, and Zuko’s path would connect with his (probably to be his firebending teacher)

So the most straightforward continuation - and the first one I think of - is that the story would revolve around Iroh helping Zuko to rebuild his sense of self worth, reminding him that he is worthy of love. We’ll pick up the thread from canon that Zuko can’t bend well. Iroh encourages Zuko to meet the masters, but Zuko keeps resisting because of trauma induced self hatred. With Iroh’s unwavering support, Zuko eventually decides to do it. He has a spiritual moment (dragon dance optional - it doesn’t mean the same thing without Aang) and it offers him healing. His firebending is back, and he feels inspired to seek out the Avatar.

The main conflict here is Zuko vs Self, with the secondary arc of developing Iroh and Zuko's relationship.

Events need to happen in a story, so we'd focus on Zuko settling into Sun Warrior culture. It could be fun to worldbuild. I think I'd take inspiration from Air Nomads and made Sun Warriors and all bender society. That just sounds like fun, and a fun excuse to ruminate about the nature of bending - a topic near to Iroh's heart and of interest to Zuko with his bending problems. So there could be lots of just fun worldbuilding exploration there.

We could see Zuko trying to make a friend his age -- probably not if I want to keep it short, but its a interesting moment of recovery for him. Definitely moments of him warming up to other people in general (he would have massive trust issues to work through). I'm thinking a series of anecdotes where we see Zuko go from someone who can't look the person who's handing him a plate of food in the eye, to Zuko being a part of the community - he serves food now. And he gets to be loved. Others can see the good in him before he sees it in himself and they nurture him.

Zuko would be in a try / fail cycle with bending (but its really all about his trauma) and we could add some low moments there, with Iroh always there when he falls.

Last scene is Zuko leaving the Sun Warriros to find Aang. Perhaps rescue him from Azula (and we could fold that into the earlier story - get periodic "news about the avatar" and hints that Azula ia persuing him.)

That could be a good, character driven story.

But I want to try again, so --

Take Two - Dark Path Temptation

I want to do more with it. I’m drawn to this idea of worthiness. These dragons judge, afterall.

In my first pitch, the audience knows the whole time that Zuko is worthy and we’re waiting for him to realize it. But what if want him in a place where he’s not worthy, and he has to earn it?

It is said your kid can be a perfect angel around others, but terrible around the parent because they are safe "letting go." Indeed, Zuko kinda does this in canon - he can be a huge butthead to Iroh. So we'll bring that here - Zuko feels safe at first, but then he starts feeling dark and twisted and angry.

We're also going to keep the bending problem - Zuko's out of touch with his inner flame.

Like canon, he believes he has no honor. Unlike canon, where he believes he can get it back by capturing the Avatar, in this story Zuko doesn't believe he can get it back - he's too defiled, too thrown away. So what do you have when you believe you have nothing to look forward to? I think he might look towards revenge. We'd build towards this. First, it would start with fighting with Iroh, but eventually it's slide into something darker.

Maybe I'd add a bad influence - a group of young sun warriors who hate that their society is hidden. Zuko falls in with them and their bitterness. They encourage him to get revenge on his dad so he can take over. It would be good - with their friend Zuko in charge, they can be free! Also - potentially - this group does drugs. Which is never great.

Zuko is pushing Iroh to let him see the dragons, he knows about them. Iroh keeps putting it off, because obvious Zuko is not in the headspace. No matter how Zuko acts out, Iroh meets him with love.

Iroh is trying to get Zuko to open up, but Zuko won't. He doesn't want Iroh to know what happened to him, because deep down he is afraid Iroh will leave him if Iroh knows that Zuko was abused, how low it got. Iroh is doing everything to reach Zuko, but Zuko keeps pushing away. Treating him with disrespect. Defying him. He especially lashes out if Iroh dares try to touch him. But he can't shake Iroh off, because Iroh isn't like Ozai or Zhao.

Throughout all this, Zuko has strange dreams he doesn't understand. Similar vibes to his angst fever s2 dreams. Zuko dreams of dragons. And he dreams of Aang (he doesn't recognize that its Aang - but the audience will and I want them to rememebr that this is the path Zuko should be on - the path to Aang).

We need events to happen, so idk. Zuko starts doing bad things. There's all this talk about killing Ozai and getting Zuko crowned. There is some incident that makes Iroh finally be mad, and to Zuko is is proof that he was right -- Iroh is just going to reject him too. So now he's very emotionally vulnerable.

Then the group eventually decides to go on the offensive and attack FN troups on a nearby vessel. Zuko is part of this. But this becomes the turning point, because it turns out a vessel in FN waters isn't a war ship - its something innocuous. Zuko is facilitating a scenario not dissimilar from the thing he spoke up against in the first place -- troups are being attacked, but they aren't the type that can define themselves. At least one life is lost (not by Zuko's hand).

Zuko turns on the group and saves the innocent (because that's who he is deep down - he has a good heart. (And if I want a whump element - because I am a one trick pony to some extent - I could add an injury here; Zuko saving innocents at cost to himself. But it either wouldn't be that serious or Zuko would evade death at the last second, because there's more story he needs to be around for.)

Despite he good turn, when the attack it all over Zuko is at a low point. Everything is a disaster. There's a good chance the Sun Warrior society will be found due to this and elders are pissed. Even though he wasn't the leader / primary instigator and he saved innocent lives, SWs blame Zuko, and by extension Iroh -- if outsiders had never come, they wouldn't be in this mess. Zuko and Iroh are taken prisoner by the Sun Warriors. While they wait for what's next. Zuko breaks down - about everything. His dad. Zhao. How he feels about himself. He finally allows Iroh to embrace him. And Iroh tells Zuko that's he's proud of him, despite everything. Because, even at the last second, he did do the right thing.

For a moment, Zuko knows love.

(And if I want to go dark - I could yank Iroh away here and leave his fate unknown).

Then sunrise comes and the Sun Warriors have decided to let the dragons judge them (or just Zuko alone if i took Iroh away).

And Zuko knows he deserves their judgement, but he's upset. Both for himself -- only hours before death has he started to understand life -- and because he's going to take / had taken his Uncle with him.

But if course - the Dragons judge them (or just Zuko) as worthy.

And then they invite Zuko and Iroh both to ride them (or just Zuko if Iroh is MIA), because obviously they can't stay with the Sun Warriors now, but the Dragons have judged them worthy and are going to help them out.

And in this version, we'll take some cues Zuko's season 2 angst fever dream and make them dragons who can talk. And they talk to him about the balanca and the Avatar, who they are taking him to. Because its what was always mean to be.

Last scene could be Zuko and Aang finally meeting.

(And if I want to end there - then leaving Iroh's fate up in the air and making Zuko stand on his own is probably best)

Plus or Minus the Azula element fromt the first pitch.

--

That was fun! Hope you enjoyed.

Feel free to tell me which one you liked :)

[paragonrobits]

i also think a lot of particularly loud people in the AtLA fandom who really dislike Aang and are increasingly going out of their way to make him and other Air Nomads look bad or implying that they were becoming colonizers and imperialists, and also have a record of constantly trying to depict the Fire Nation in the best possible light, are unknowingly telling on themselves by assuming that the series depicting the Fire Nation in a poor light (as being, well, imperialist genocidal conquerers, in ways indicating that these were part of general attitudes culminating in the Hundred Year War) is commentary on a particular noncanon ship.

This indicates that regardless of what they might say, it does mean that they conflate the Fire Nation with this ship in particular, as they outright saying that an attack on the Fire Nation (which is by default an antagonistic state that has lost its way, become consumed by hatred, feelings of imperialism, and lost touch with its own spiritual ways) is an attack on their fanon ship.

Its hard to assume anything else whenever the Fire Nation is shown in the poor light that it logically must have been, for its people to be so okay with taking part in genocides and regarding the rest of the world as unenlightened barbarians that needed to be conquered for their own good. Those attitudes don't come out of nowhere. Empires in general have feelings of exceptionalism or being better than everyone else, so the Fire Nation being like that is consistent with what they later wound up doing.

This fanon ship is not being referenced or brought up, as the Roku novel is written over a hundred years before those characters are born. Nonetheless you see people saying that they're being written like this solely to demonize their fanon ship, which is all but outright saying that they are conflating the Fire Nation, with all its cruelty, as synonymous with their ship.

This shouldn't be surprising; for a long time a lot of the attitude around this ship has focused on its power, on the luxury of its ruling class, on achievements in politics someone marrying into the royal family could be. And so a lot of the statements about the Fire Nation's practices DO seem like a reaction to fandom opinions about this sort of thing. Not necessary in a critical way (though that could be seen as involved, as a lot of the attitudes expressed by that part of fandom are directly contrary to the tone of the series and the spirituality and aversion to ruthlessness it advocates), but feeling more like clarifying things, such as how the Fire Lady has no political power at all, and is solely expected to produce children, and apart from that is a complete political nonentity.

I've seen glimpses for a while of that part of fandom becoming increasingly more pro-empire; denying that the Fire Nation has decimated the Water Tribes, increasingly demonizing the Air Nomads, going out of their way to constantly insist the title character is the worst person in the world... at this point, them outright saying that the Air Nomad genocide was justified and that the Fire Nation SHOULD take over the world is them just being honest about it.

and once again i find myself asking: if you hate the actual story this much, if you're so fixated on your fanon ship that was never going to happen or overwriting those characters with your self insert OCs, why do you still care about it? You're so distanced from the actual show that I honestly can't see why you care about this setting at all outside of complaining whenever the Fire Nation is shown to be, in fact, a conquering nation with racist and classist attitudes.

At this point I expect the next thing from them to say is 'Ozai was actually a hero, did nothing wrong, his duel with Zuko was just tough love, and Iroh was a traitor for abandoning the siege when he could have brought the Earth Kingdom into glory'. At this point you're 40k Imperium stans without the irony.

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

last day at the battle of red cliffs, and i am the coalition's top general in charge of the land assault. it is eerily quiet in the mountains, an easterly wind blows hard and cold. the skies over the river glow pink, like the blooms of a peach orchard in spring, but the sight brings me no joy, for i know it is fire that stains the heavens. tonight the red cliffs are ablaze with burning ships. the rivers run with the blood of brave men. after so many years of bitter fighting, we have finally struck a decisive blow against the Usurper and halted his war of conquest. tonight we emerge victorious from the quagmire, but my heart grows heavy at the cost.

Glaive in hand and sitting astride my steed, I lead five hundred crack troops towards the narrow mountain pass of Huarong Road, racing to cut off the Usurper's escape. the people say he is a vicious monster whose hunger knows no bounds. They are wrong. He is just a man, capable of love and honour--and is all the more dangerous for it. you cannot call a typhoon or earthquake evil, but it does not make it any less destructive.

I had tried to help him, once upon a time, but some men cannot be changed, only stopped. there will be no peace as long as he draws breath. the war must end here. he must end here. We might have been allies once, almost friends, two beans side-by-side in the same pod, but I will put aside our shared history for the sake of duty, bitter though it may be. I have sworn a sacred oath to my Liege Lord and Elder Brother, I will only live and die by his side.

hark! the enemy approaches. i order my men into formation and ride out to meet them. a tiger is most dangerous when it's teeth are broken. i must show no weakness or he will eat my heart.

an old man on a lame horse rides out to meet me.

"I trust you've been well, General, since we've last met," the Usurper croaks, swaying unsteadily on his saddle, and then; "might i trouble you for a drink of water?"

he bares his teeth in a rictus of a smile. while he has never been handsome, he had at least been stately, now exhaustion and desperation have robbed him of even that.

his soldiers fall to their knees at the sight of me, weeping and trembling piteously. I ride through a sea of haggard, mud-covered faces. half the men don't have saddles, most don't have weapons, one is, rather absurdly, clutching a clay cooking pot--none of them look capable of putting up a fight. all look ready to drop dead.

once upon a time, a foolish, kindly man found a snake on the ground, frozen and half-dead...

i give the Usurper my water-gourd. his hands are shaking, so I take it back and unstopper it for him. it is for the sake of expediency. our hands do not touch. i had half-suspected he might have been stalling for time, but the gourd is empty when he hands it back.

"I often dreamed of you, Yunchang--" he hiccups, and then continues in the strong, resonant voice i know so well, his words amplified by the stone walls, "we'd sit under the trees and drink a toast, for old times sake. How the years have flown. it is the greatest tragedy of my life that we are doomed to be on opposite sides of the battlefield, never crossing paths except to exchange blows. Oh, woe, to be dealt such a hand by fate. To be seperated from the man you desire most." To be continued

notes:

ok! so in the middle of cao cao's Yackey Sack Chase Scene he stops and lets his men cook dinner...which implies that at least ONE guy was carrying a fucking pot with him. one of those heavy as shit honest to god terracotta pots. up and down hills while running for his life. i respect NO ONE except Random Wei Soldier and his pot. this man is my spiritual brother.

watch 2010 san guo tv show. that is all.