#these opinions have always existed and will always exist and I am selfishly choosing to stay out of it for my own wellbeing

[anto-pops]

Did you see “the list” that’s been going around on TT about hogwarts legacy creators and smut pretty much? were you on it at all or are you safe to write another day lol

I saw it, I wasn’t on it, but even if I had been I don’t care what some random on tiktok thinks about me.

I got a few asks about the whole situation and I’m not trying to burst my little bubble of peace here but I will say this: it is your own responsibility to cultivate an online experience for yourself that you’re comfortable with, no one else’s. If that means blacklisting tags, unfollowing/blocking people, or better yet getting off the computer and taking a break, then so be it.

The only thing us content creators can do is tag our stuff to the best of our abilities and put warnings on the things we post, which most of us here already do. Instigating hatred and animosity towards people who literally haven’t done anything to you personally is never okay, and I’m so so sorry to the ones who are receiving any unwarranted cruelty from randoms. Keep your heads up and remember that this too shall pass 💕🫶🏻

[maldiaaym]

Why do I think Lily Evans (Potter) was not a good friend?

Until recently, the general opinion of the fandom was that Lily Potter was a good girl, deified and the representation of purity and goodness. But, doing a more exhaustive study of the character, we can get to see how Lily evans maybe was not so holy and made mistakes due to her education and, possibly, depending on the stage of her life where she found herself when she made those mistakes.

In relation to Severus Snape, I think she was not a good friend. Regardless of his age, which we all understand that we do not see friendship in childhood, adolescence or adulthood, she also had defects that compared to other characters in the saga, they were not a role model.

Starting from the little we know about her through the worst memory and Snape's memories, we are going to take some situations into account to assess her defects:

She blamed Snape for the letter Petunia sent to Dumbledore.

She got mad at Snape for dropping a branch on Petunia, even though he did so unconsciously and Petunia was rude to him.

The discussion with Snape about what happened with Remus (werewolf accident), his distrust of who was her friend and believing others before, not caring about Snape.

The lake scene, where she never addressed Snape once, as if he didn't know him and was just another boy to help.

The same lake scene, where she taunted Snape after he called her "Mudblood".

Now, let's talk about the problems at different levels (social, emotional, mental, physical and cultural):

Social: Snape comes from a lower social class than Lily and, although at first the girl Lily did not see the difference, I suppose that as time passed she realized that it did not look good for Snape to wear second hand clothes (surely ), he had serious problems in the family sphere, Snape's own unsociable nature that did not allow him to have a larger group of friends. In childhood we do not usually take into account the social variable when making friends with other children (pre-Hogwarts), but as she became related to the peer group at Hogwarts, she surely could not help feeling somewhat ashamed of the friendship with Snape . Let me explain, in Snape's adulthood it seems that no one knew about Lily and Snape's friendship, so it would be a secret friendship (and we all know that shame towards the other is what leads to secret friendships and relationships).

Emotional: Lily quickly connected with Snape because there was something she needed from him, and it was the knowledge and the desire to be accepted in a place like Hogwarts. Hogwarts was a new world that she did not know and Snape could offer her the security of knowing that world ... But, when she knew what she had to know, Snape had nothing more to offer her, but a clandestine and unrewarding friendship for her. It is not a mistake to think this, but it does show that she deliberately used Snape and that their friendship deteriorated over time. I think she might have felt friendship for Snape in a pure way, but when she began to be friends with the marauders, her emotional level turned towards these guys and she began to move away from Snape. I think the dark arts were an excuse to end the friendship, wanting to get away from him in an interested way ... it's easy to think that, when you really feel empathy for someone, you try to make the effort to understand that person, to know why him he likes the dark arts. However, she Lily was not able to understand him, understand his fears, his insecurities and the need to flee from the hell where he was stuck.Referring to the lake scene, I think Lily had a complete dissociation from Snape by now, she didn't defend being his friend, she didn't speak to him directly even once, and when he made a mistake due to the situation, she scoffed of him and "flirted" with James.

Mental: I think Lily never understood the true meaning of friendship, not at least as she later taught us Harry by understanding Ron and Hermione and accepting his flaws, even when this child was only 11 years old. I think that Lily, as soon as she could, got rid of Snape because she no longer wanted to have an uncomfortable friend, a friend who surely helped her for years in her studies at Hogwarts (I mean surely potions). Snape was like a teacher for Lily in her access to the magical world, he helped her in the study and knowledge of the magical world and I think that Lily stopped seeing usefulness when she already found in Gryffindor and the marauders the way to go her way . I mean, I think she coldly weighed whether or not she was interested in staying friends with Snape and she conveniently cut off the friendship when she got the chance. Lily showed herself to be a cold person who did not understand what Snape was in her whole and who did not appreciate all that he had done for her.I know that calling her "Mudbloods" was not right, but instead of trying to understand the shame and harassment that Snape felt at that time, she broke off the friendship and remained friends with the stalker, the one who emotionally blackmailed her and who continued to be a bully. No one can convince me otherwise.

Physical: here we will talk about the implications of a person who is not really physically attractive. There are studies that determine that people who do not fit the standards of beauty tend to have fewer opportunities in social relationships, love relationships or even find a job. With all this I mean that, when we are children, we do not care about anyone's physical appearance, but when we reach adolescence, our group of equals teach us the canons of beauty, which is considered handsome or what not. In this case, I think Lily was superficial. That is to say, Snape was not physically attractive, surely he did not look comfortable being with him because she was a popular, pretty girl, and he was attracted to a boy who was much more attractive than Snape (even though James was, in my opinion, uglier emotionally and disrespectful to others, adding being a bully). Lily preferred to go for the handsome boy rather than choose a loyal friend who was unattractive.

Cultural: At this level many factors enter, but here I will choose to talk about the differences of ideologies and different culture between Slytherin and Gryffindor. As we know, both houses were enemies, they were the contrast between good and evil in the Harry Potter saga. Slytherin represented everything bad and Gryffindor everything good. Here we also talk about the peer group (that is, a group of people that we consider our equals and from whom we learn cultural, social, emotional and behavioral factors), where Lily in the end ended up choosing to choose Gryffindor and be immersed in ideas prefabs that already existed about Slytherin even though, surely, many ideas were not true. Some of these ideas were hatred towards the "dirty bloods", defending the purity of blood, ambition as a negative element and cunning as if it were something bad that always leads to cheating.Where I see these preconceptions most clearly is in the scene where Lily argues with Snape for defending Mulciber, etc ... in this scene it seems that Lily puts the marauders before (she is supposed to talk about them) because they are from her house and believes that what Mulciber does is worse because he is in Slytherin. Being in Gryffindor, she is believed to have the moral superiority and the right to claim Snape to choose a position, when obviously Snape, like Lily, will choose their peer group. The point here is that Lily prefers to believe the marauders and put Snape in the guilty position, without even asking if his friend is okay or asking him what he saw ... Lily is not interested in knowing what happened because surely he was content with James's version and would always doubt any version Snape could give it.

Up to here, I did my study. It is a bit lazy, I wrote it on the fly and remembering some of the knowledge I acquired when I was studying Pedagogy. But, in essence, I hope you have understood. In the end, Lily opted for what she considered to be okay based on ideas and beliefs that she ended up having with her peer group. She put her friendship with the marauders first and decided to coldly and selfishly eliminate her friendship with Snape. In the end, we have all had friends from whom we have moved away because they no longer shared things with us (although I can presume that I never alienated anyone for thinking differently or liking things that I did not like), but also friends that we have from all our lives, with those of us who do not like things about them, but accept them and try to understand them, where the company of that person is valued more and we do not care what they tell us. It is true that the "peer group" exerts a lot of influence on us, despising those who consider strange people or have unusual habits for the majority of the population. But Snape and Lily met in childhood, this factor should not have been decisive for their estrangement and, I am afraid, that in the almost of Lily, he ended up accepting the conditions of his peer group to the detriment of maintaining a friendship that so much contributed. I don't hate Lily, I have no problem with her, for me she really is a flat character, too overrated and that only has a few three lines in the entire Harry Potter saga. It is impossible to empathize with her as we would with other characters and she hardly has any development of her. The most remarkable thing about her is that she gave her life for her son, otherwise she showed us a girl who had a strange friendship with Snape and who married the popular boy of her time.

[merakilyy]

I Made My Choice and It Was You

Pairing: Wangxian, platonic Lan Xichen and Wei Ying bonding Tags: Post-canon, Hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, emotional baggage, minor PTSD and nightmares, family bonding Summary: It's hard for Lan Xichen to trust his judgement after having so blatantly misjudged the character of Jin Guangyao, but watching Wei Wuxian interact with his brother reminds him that good can come from his judgement. (The 5+1 fic that was supposed to be lighthearted and funny. Instead, it turned into Lan Xichen being the best brother (in-law) ever as he helps Wei Wuxian work through his complicated emotions and they bond over younger brothers and rabbits.)

On AO3

After the Guanyin Temple, mere weeks after entering seclusion in one of the deeper caves of Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen found himself unwillingly dragged out of seclusion by none other than Lan Qiren, shufu , the Grandmaster himself.

As it turned out, Wangji had wasted no time before marrying Wei Wuxian. As Lan Qiren told it, Wangji had just barely been named Chief Cultivator when his first action was to take off with Wei Wuxian on Bichen and promptly disappear without warning. Had it been anyone else, their sudden disappearance would have been a major scandal. But it was the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun, and the cultivation world had just been turned upside down with Jin Guangyao’s downfall, so barely anyone even noticed their impromptu disappearance and the disapproval of a handful of sect leaders barely registered.

Two weeks later, Lan Wangji had returned with a familiar red ribbon tied snugly around his wrist and dragging along a cheerful Wei Wuxian on his arm. An even more familiar white ribbon held up Wei Wuxian’s hair.

While Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji had stepped inside the Yashi to discuss Wangji’s recent behaviour, Xichen had been left alone with his new brother-in-law to wait in the Jingshi.

A heavy silence fell upon them.

It wasn’t as though Xichen disliked Wei Wuxian, per se. He had found Wei Wuxian’s endless energy and penchant for finding himself in trouble endearing at times. After all, he had actively encouraged and pushed for Wei Wuxian to befriend Wangji back when he was just a visiting disciple from Yunmeng Jiang. Even during the Sunshot Campaign, he hadn’t actively discouraged Wangji from pining after Wei Wuxian. After Wangji told him of the Wen elders and children Wei Ying had taken with him into the Burial Mounds, Xichen still could not find it in him to fully denounce Wei Ying the way Lanling Jin and Qinghe Nie had. Even when Yunmeng Jiang turned against its former head disciple, Xichen and Gusu Lan officially maintained neutrality against the Yiling Patriarch. Xichen only disapproved of the Yiling Laozu’s methods, not the ideology.

But then the slaughter at the Nightless City happened and Xichen could only watch helplessly as he found himself on opposing sides with his own brother. Xichen did his best to keep the Lan disciples far from where Wangji and Wei Wuxian were tearing through the battlefield, not wanting to force Wangji to make that kind of decision. (A part of him already knew who Wangji would choose and he selfishly didn’t want to face that reality). Despite the distance, he saw Wei Wuxian throw himself off a cliff and the absolute grief on Lan Wangji’s face when Wei Wuxian finally slipped out of Lan Wangji’s bloodied fingers.

It was difficult to not hate Wei Ying as he watched Wangji in the aftermath of the Nightless City.

Still, Xichen did his best to push aside his feelings towards Wei Wuxian when he had returned for the sake of his brother. It became even harder to dislike Wei Wuxian after the truth about his golden core was revealed. Be righteous . Righteousness had been ingrained into each member of the Gusu Lan sect since birth; what else could such a selfless action be, to give away one’s own golden core, other than the highest form of righteousness?

Yet, a part of Xichen struggled to forgive Wei Wuxian for all the suffering he brought upon Wangji.

So, in the absence of a pressing mystery to solve and without Wangji’s presence, Xichen and Wei Wuxian found themselves sitting rather uncomfortably in the Jingshi. Xichen closed his eyes and prepared to settle his mind for meditation while Wei Wuxian fiddled with Chenqing and his new ribbon.

Wei Wuxian didn’t see Xichen’s eyes soften as he observed the tender way in which Wei Wuxian stroked his finger along the cloud embroidery on Wangji’s forehead ribbon as he absentmindedly found comfort in the physical manifestation of Lan Wangji’s love.

“Wangji is correct,” Xichen said, opening his eyes after his failed attempt at meditation.

Wei Wuxian jumped at the unexpected speech but said nothing, hands fiddling with Chenqing’s tassel.

“Wei Gong-zi is loud in everything that he does,” Xichen continued when Wei Wuxian said nothing. It was odd, seeing Wei Wuxian have so little to say. “Wei Gong-zi has a loud presence.”

“Ah. I. Apologize?” Wei Wuxian

“No need.” Lan Xichen knew well enough of Wei Wuxian’s endless ability to put his foot in his mouth at the most inopportune moments and silently commended Wei Wuxian’s attempt to mollify his new brother-in-law. “Wangji sees no fault with it, and recent events have more than proven that Wangji is a superior judge of character than I.”

A heavy silence settled between them again.

Wei Wuxian would rather be hit with Zidian than talk to Lan Xichen about the Guanyin Temple. The events of the Guanyin Temple were what exonerated and redeemed Wei Wuxian’s reputation. The Guanyin Temple restored Wei Wuxian’s life to him, but the Guanyin Temple ripped Lan Xichen’s life apart.

So they were at a bit of an impasse.

A shuffling noise brushed past the entrance of the Jingshi as a pair of disciples swiftly passed by. The relief on Wei Wuxian’s face from this distraction was palpable and Xichen was struck with a realization.

It wasn’t that Wei Wuxian didn’t have anything to say. Wei Wuxian had plenty to say and was quite literally vibrating with all that he wanted to say. But he didn’t say any of it out of the fear that he might inadvertently offend or hurt Xichen.

Despite the unease in the room, and his own ongoing inner turmoil, Xichen smiled ever so slightly. Lan Qiren was a lost cause, but Wei Ying did care about Xichen’s opinion because Wangji cared. For all his uncouth mannerisms, Wei Wuxian was and had always been far more perceptive than anyone (except Wangji) realized.

Xichen felt a weight lift from his shoulders. It was a subtle change, but Xichen noticed the relief he felt at this realization. It wasn’t that Xichen had ever doubted Wei Ying loved his brother, but it was hard to believe Wei Ying deserved the sheer amount of love Wangji had for him and it was hard to believe Wei Ying loved Wangji equally knowing what Wei Wuxian had done to Wangji in a past life.

But here was a Wei Wuxian who desperately wanted Lan Xichen’s approval just because Wangji still cared deeply for his brother’s approval. Xichen knew Wangji well enough to know Wangji would never admit to any of this, and the sheer fact that Wei Wuxian could read Wangji well enough to realize this and care endeared him to Xichen greatly.

Unfortunately, this realization did nothing to ease the fraught tension in the Jingshi.

But, at least Lan Xichen was able to return to his seclusion slightly lighter than when he left.

~~~

As was to be expected, Wangji was a regular visitor during Xichen’s seclusion. They rarely spoke these days  -- Wangji saved his words for his husband and Xichen had few words since the Guanyin Temple. Instead, their preferred method of communication was to converse through music.

It had been years since they last used music as a regular form of communication. Sixteen years ago, Wangji had been grieving and music was Xichen’s last resort after his brother had been unresponsive to all interactions that did not involve A-Yuan. In a fit of desperation, Xichen had joined Wangji’s Inquiry with Liebing. Somehow it had worked and with that tenuous connection they slowly began to heal the Wei Ying-sized rift that had come between them. Back then, Xichen had not been able to understand how Wangji’s grief had nearly driven him to madness. Even as Wangji slammed Xichen with wave upon wave of soul crushing, unmitigated anguish through his guqin, Xichen could not fully comprehend the overwhelming sorrow that haunted Wangji down to his core.

Now, with the tables turned, Xichen still did not understand the full extent of his brother’s grief but he did at least gain an understanding of a fraction of what Wangji must have felt. It wasn’t that Xichen didn’t love Jin Guangyao. He trusted -- had trusted -- A-Yao to have had his back whenever he needed it and he would have done the same in return. The love and loyalty of a sworn brother was not so easily forgotten, even after A-Yao’s less than stellar deeds were revealed one after another. Even after the full extent of A-Yao’s treachery became known, Xichen continued to reserve a place in his heart for his sworn brother. For both his fallen brothers. Yet, at times it felt cheap to call his relationship with Jin Guangyao or Nie Mingjue loving when he could see the love Wangji had for Wei Wuxian. Even though Wei Wuxian was never their topic of conversation, Xichen could feel his brother’s love for Wei Ying in the undertone of every note. Wangji’s love for Wei Wuxian was all-consuming and radiated out from every part of his being. Wei Wuxian’s existence was loud, but Wangji’s love was even louder. As much as he had loved his sworn brothers, Xichen’s relationships with Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao contained barely a fraction of the kind of love Wangji had for Wei Ying.

Thinking back, Xichen shouldn’t have been so surprised when his mid-morning meditation was interrupted by Wei Wuxian for whom rules of propriety was more suggestion than mandate.

“Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Wuxian greeted somberly with a proper bow.

“I am in seclusion, Wei Gong-zi. I am no sect leader so there is no need for such formalities. We are brothers now.” Xichen looked at Wei Ying neutrally, unsure why his unruly brother-in-law was here and not helping his brother prepare for the upcoming Roundtable Conference.

“About that...” Wei Ying said in a tone that invited trouble. “You’re going to have to come out of seclusion.”

“Pardon?” Lan Xichen had forgotten how blunt Wei Ying could be. Or, rather, he was unprepared for the tactful tactlessness Wei Wuxian utilised when he wanted something.

“Cloud Recesses is hosting the next Cultivation Conference. We need a Sect Leader. Certainly Lan Zhan is the best in the world, but even he can’t represent Gusu Lan as both Sect Leader and Chief Cultivator. Imagine what ridiculous accusations Sect Leader Yao would come up with!“

Wei Ying’s inclusion of himself as a part of the Gusu Lan didn’t escape Xichen’s notice.

Wei Ying’s less than stellar appearance didn’t escape Xichen either.

It wasn’t obvious, and by no measure did Wei Ying look poorly, but Xichen did notice a heaviness in Wei Ying that hadn’t been there the last time they spoke after he and Wangji eloped. It was a different heaviness from his time as the Yiling Laozu and unrelated to his cultivation. This heaviness was more akin to exhaustion.

Wangji had always been careful to never mention his husband, not wanting to hurt his brother with the reminder of his own happiness. Xichen certainly would not have minded if all Wangji talked about was Wei Ying, though he greatly appreciated Wangji’s approach all the same. But, just as Wangji’s love couldn’t be contained, neither could his concern for his husband. It was a passing concern, and Xichen knew that if Wei Ying had been in any real danger Wangji would not have remained silent.

But, looking at Wei Ying now, Xichen could see the dark shadows under his eyes. While Wei Ying’s presence had always been loud before, it had since been tempered down and replaced with exhaustion. Wangji had briefly mentioned Wei Ying’s tendency towards nightmares after they fled Jinlin Tai, and Xichen suspected that tendency remained.

“Anyway,” Wei Ying continued when Xichen remained silent, “I would have offered to stand in as either but can you imagine the scandal that would cause? The Yiling Laozu playing at the Chief Cultivator? Or better yet: the Yiling Laozu as the new Sect Leader of Gusu Lan? Half the Sect Leaders would go into qi derivation on the spot! Besides, I can’t be dragging down Lan Zhan at these Conferences. I know Lan Zhan doesn’t care for politics but even Hanguang-jun’s reputation can only take so much.”

Xichen rather disagreed that anything could tarnish Wangji’s reputation now, nor did Wangji even care about his reputation, but he felt a flood of warmth towards Wei Ying for his concern.

“I understand Wei Gong-zi’s concerns but I am not understanding why it is required that I leave my seclusion,” Xichen said, staring at Wangji’s ribbon in Wei Ying’s hair. It was clearly tied by Wangji, with the bow tied in a careful butterfly and double knotted so that it would not come loose from Wei Ying’s unpredictable movements. Wangji had since replaced his own forehead ribbon but continued to wear Wei Ying’s red ribbon around his wrist. “Is Uncle unable to participate?” Xichen asked, concerned.

Wei Ying waved his concern away, “No, no, Old Man Lan is fine. Mostly. There was an incident with Jingyi last week which wasn’t his fault, really, I mean how could Jingyi know that the book was cursed? I never knew Old Man Lan could move that fast but it didn’t stop the book from knocking over a fountain and anyway he’s fine but he’s refusing to leave his secluded meditation for another week until his qi levels even out again.”

“And the Elders?”

“Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Ying gave Xichen a look that wasn’t quite judgemental, but it certainly wasn’t without judgement. “Would any of the elders do anything I asked of them?”

“Wangji can ask.”

“Lan Zhan is too busy.”

“Too busy to speak to our own Elders?”

“Yes?”

Unconvinced, Xichen simply looked at Wei Ying.

It wasn’t long before Wei Ying caved.

“Okay! It’s because Lan Zhan has been so busy and I wanted to do something useful beside just terrorizing the juniors, you know? I mean, I’m great at terrorizing the juniors and I have the best night hunting supervision record but that doesn’t exactly help Lan Zhan, you know? So I volunteered to organize the entire conference so Lan Zhan could just focus on his talking points because he’s doing all the hard work already! He’s trying to make real changes that no one important wants but Lan Zhan is the best and the little border towns no one wants to remember deserve our protection too. But apparently these conferences take a lot more work to set up than one would think and I still haven’t figured out how to arrange the seating so Jiang Cheng doesn’t get in a fistfight with Sect Leader Yao again and Sect Leader Ouyang has to be near Lanling Jin and Gusu Lan so Zizhen don’t get too lonely but Sect Leader Ouyang wants to be nowhere near me, and then I realized we’re missing an actual representative but I can’t ask Lan Zhan to do two jobs but the juniors are too young and no one else will do anything if I ask.” It wasn’t entirely clear if Wei Ying was still breathing at this point, but Xichen couldn’t help but be impressed that Wei Ying had volunteered to single handedly organize an entire conference.

Xichen sighed and nodded. He shouldn’t have expected any reason other than Wei Ying’s love for Wangji.

Besides, it would give him a chance to slip some sleeping herbs to Wangji to give to Wei Ying.

~~~

“Zewu-jun!”

Once again, Lan Xichen found his late morning meditation interrupted by Wei Wuxian, who breezed his way into the cave with all the subtlety of a hurricane.

“Zewu-jun!” Wei Wuxian bowed respectfully before throwing himself in a kowtow at Lan Xichen’s feet before Xichen could wrap his head around what was happening.

“Wei Gong-zi?” Xichen blinked at the sight before him, trying to understand what was happening. With his head bowed so low, Wei Wuxian’s hair had moved to the side and revealed a splattering of dark love bites along the back of his neck that only Wangji could have left. Blushing at the implications, at the physical evidence of Wei Wuxian’s nightly activities with his brother, Xichen quickly rushed to pull Wei Wuxian up from his kowtow.

“Wei Gong-zi, please, there is no need for such formalities between family.” Xichen’s hands gripped Wei Wuxian’s upper arms, holding Wei Wuxian upright so he would not try to kowtow again.

“But Zewu-jun! I need your help!” Wei Wuxian wailed, his hands tightly gripping Xichen’s forearms.

With Wei Wuxian upright, Xichen could see further love bites trailing down from just under Wei Wuxian’s ear into the high collar of his robes.

Wangji , Xichen thought pleadingly, some discretion . There was no rule against displaying one’s love, but there was one against debauchery. And, Xichen strongly suspected, once his uncle saw Wei Wuxian, there would be a new rule against leaving evidence of kisses.

Forcing his eyes to focus on Wei Wuxian’s face, and directing his mind to focus on the situation at hand, Xichen spoke. “Wei Gong-zi, are we not at peace? There are no events scheduled for the new few months. Why such urgency?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were wide and desperate. “But Zewu-jun! Lan Zhan’s birthday is coming soon and I don’t have a gift!”

Xichen blinked. “Is Wangji’s birthday not several months away?”

“Yes, but his gift needs to be perfect!”

Xichen would have liked to move this conversation to the table where they could talk over tea. However, Wei Wuxian was leaning heavily enough that Xichen suspected that if he loosened his grip the slightest bit, Wei Wuxian would return to kowtowing.

“Wei Wuxian, I don’t understand. Wangji views your presence as the greatest gift. There is no need to give unnecessary material goods.”

“But Zewu-jun! You don’t understand!” Wei Wuxian’s grip on Xichen’s forearms was growing tighter and tighter. If this went on much longer, Xichen suspected he would find handprint shaped bruises on his arms. “Lan Zhan is so good to me! My gifts will never be good enough and I can't match up to what Lan Zhan will give me without your help.”

Confused, Xichen tried to push Wei Wuxian’s body upright. “But Wei Gong-zi, you have given Wangji many excellent gifts in the past. He enjoys his rabbits immensely and they bring him much joy, you left him Lan Sizhui for a gift and watching Sizhui’s growth was Wangji's sole purpose to live for a long time, and you have now given him your heart.”

“Zewu-jun, you don’t understand! Lan Zhani gives me little things everyday. He cooks all my meals just for me so I can enjoy every meal! He learned how to use spices for me! He hides Emperor's Smile in the jingshi so I can have it whenever I want and he’s the one who raised Sizhui into a perfect son! He lets me sleep in and brushes my hair and Lan Zhan is perfect. Lan Zhan even wrote a song just for me! Zewu-jun, I have no money and have nothing to offer him!”

Wei Wuxian looked as though he was about to burst into tears with how much Wangji loved him and Xichen couldn’t decide whether to feel joy at how dedicated Wangji and his husband were to each other, or to immediately soothe Wei Wuxian before he actually cried. But, with Wei Wuxian so close, Xichen also noted with satisfaction that the dark bags under Wei Wuxian’s eyes from the last time he had seen him had faded greatly.

“Wei Gong-zi,” Xichen said slowly, carefully, trying to pacify Wei Wuxian. “Did you know, Wangji has kept every gift you’ve ever given him? Every scrap of paper, every sketch, even the flower from Baifeng Mountain he keeps.”

“Of course! But Zewu-jun those are such little things.”

“Wei Gong-zi, you must know that Wangji will treasure any gift you present him with.” Xichen smiled, trying to pacify his brother-in-law.

“I know,” Wei Wuxian looked down, though he no longer leaned so heavily on Xichen’s arms. “Which is why I need to do something Lan Zhan will actually enjoy. I don’t want him to keep something he hates just because I gave it to him.”

Xichen remained silent for a moment, thinking. He let his hands release Wei Wuxian as he was no longer at risk of being kowtowed to. “My brother,” Xichen said, softly, thoughtfully, “he is a man of action, not substance. A gift need not be big, but Wangji will understand the intention behind it. Wangji has always enjoyed your paintings, and has always appreciated your penchant for creativity. I cannot tell you what to give, but I believe Wei Gong-zi will find the adequate gift for Wangji.”

For a long moment, Wei Wuxian was silent, thinking through Xichen’s words. He was quiet long enough for Xichen to almost return to his meditation when Wei Wuxian recovered.

“I understand now! Thank you Zewu-jun!”

Cheerful, Wei Wuxian raised his hands above his head. Xichen stared, confused, for half a second before he realized what Wei Wuxian was about to do.

Horrified, Lan Xichen was almost yelling. “No, Wei Wuxian! Please, stop! We are family now! You need not kowtow to family!”

~~~

In the end, Lan Xichen didn’t remain in seclusion for very long.

He did return to seclusion after the conference which, despite being organized primarily by Wei Wuxian, had gone perfectly smoothly. (Secretly, Xichen thought the conference went smoothly precisely because it had been organized by Wei Wuxian.) No fistfights broke out, no new rivalries came to light, no extramarital affairs took place, and no one left horribly dissatisfied with the implemented changes. Lan Zhan and Wei Ying had convinced all the sects to contribute to a collective fund to support activities for poorer villages that couldn’t afford to hire a cultivator but required their services and to build a series of schools to educate promising young cultivators who were no longer connected to a sect. But a year after the Guanyin Temple, he was rather forcibly encouraged to return to his position and duties by Wei Wuxian.

Not by Wei Wuxian directly. Wei Wuxian himself had very little to do with actually leaving seclusion, but it was because of Wei Wuxian that Xichen ended his seclusion so soon.

In a classic Wei Wuxian move, he managed to break three ribs, a hip, receive a nasty wolf bite on his thigh, and enjoy some internal bleeding after taking a group of junior disciples from Gusu Lan and Lanling Jin on a night hunt.

What happened was this: Wei Wuxian was standing on a tree branch, observing the juniors from above as they took down a standard beast. The night hunt went smoothly. No injuries, and no one cried. Jingyi and Jin Ling even managed to avoid getting into a shouting match. The problem was a stray dog. No one ever saw the dog, but Wei Wuxian very much heard the dog bark and, in his panic, fell off the branch he was standing on.

Certainly, that was far from the first tree Wei Wuxian had fallen out of. Hanguang-jun would not have punished the juniors, though it would certainly feel like a punishment when Hanguang-jun inevitably levelled his disappointed glare upon them for allowing Wei Wuxian to be careless and get bruised. But, it was nothing out of the ordinary. And really, it shouldn’t have been a problem except that the tree was near a cliff. It wasn’t a steep cliff and Hanguang-jun may have just assigned the juniors with undesirable chores for a couple days to make a point, but there was a rocky patch where Wei Wuxian landed. Some especially jagged rocks left deep scrapes and minor lacerations along Wei Wuxian’s arms and hands and the impact broke a few bones. And perhaps the juniors could still have avoided a severe punishment since it was Wei Wuxian’s fault for climbing up a tree so close to a cliff. But, naturally the rocks were not the only things waiting at the bottom of a cliff. A wild wolf had wandered into the area to investigate the new sounds, which set off Wei Wuxian’s terror, which in turn alarmed the wolf. No one saw what happened exactly, but everyone heard Wei Wuxian’s screams as he ran away, in spite of his injuries, and the wolf’s snarls as it chased Wei Wuxian.

Hanguang-jun found Wei Wuxian before the juniors did.

“So,” Xichen asked Sizhui as they stood outside the Jingshi after Sizhui recounted the events that had transpired, “what happened to the juniors Wei Wuxian was supervising?”

“Jingyi sent a signal to Hanguang-jun as soon as Senior Wei slipped from the tree.” Sizhui had not been on this night hunt, having been relegated to the task of teaching the youngest disciples the basics of qin playing while the regular instructor was recovering from a broken finger.

“And where is Lan Jingyi now?”

“Copying five hundred sets of the rules under the supervision of Grandmaster Lan.”

“Handstands?”

Sizhui nodded. “Hanguang-jun was not pleased.”

If he had any less self-discipline, Xichen would have sighed. It wasn’t like Wangji to lash out at their junior disciples over Wei Wuxian’s actions.

Having been raised by the reserved Hanguang-jun, Sizhui recognized the disapproving look on Xichen’s face and quickly added, “Ah, Zewu-jun, Jingyi chose the location due to a bet with Sect Leader Jin over whether wolves were similar enough to dogs to scare Senior Wei. The other junior disciples were told to copy the rules just eight times and to write a letter of appreciation to Senior Wei.”

The incident occurred a week ago but Wei Wuxian was recovering slowly due to his lack of spiritual energy to expedite the healing process, and because an infection had set in that had just barely been kept at bay by Wangji giving Wei Wuxian his own spiritual energy for hours each day. With Wei Ying so severely injured, Wangji was hovering at his bedside. Much of his work as Chief Cultivator was reading and responding to documents, but it was difficult to be both Chief Cultivator and Sect Leader while attending full time to an uncooperative patient. And so, Xichen was forced to come out of seclusion and return as Sect Leader.

When Sizhui and Xichen entered the Jingshi, they found Wei Ying lying miserably in bed. Most of his body was hidden under their blanket, but his forearms were visibly wrapped in thick bandages. Wangji was sitting at his side in bed, back against the headboard, perched carefully beside Wei Ying, careful not to jostle his injuries. A flash of red could be seen under his sleeve when Wangji shifted his arm.

“My perfect night hunting record,” Wei Ying lamented, poking at Wangji’s side. “Lan Zhan~”

“Shhh,” Wangji hummed. He set aside the document he had been reading and looked down at Wei Ying. “Rest.”

Wei Ying opened his mouth to protest but Wangji interrupted him by gently stroking Wei Ying’s face and affectionately patting his cheeks.

“Wei Ying must be more careful,” Wangji said, leaning down to pepper Wei Ying’s forehead with kisses.

“Wangji is correct,” Xichen said.

Wei Wuxian turned his head in surprise, but Wangji simply looked up and nodded his acknowledgement. “Xiongzhang.”

“Xian-gege,” Sizhui rushed to kneel at Wei Wuxian’s bedside, dropping the honorifics in the privacy of the jingshi. “How are you?”

“A-Yuan, what a good child, asking after his seniors. Look Lan Zhan, what a wonderful child you raised!”

“We raised,” Wangji corrected instinctively. Turning to Sizhui, Wangji said, “Wei Ying’s fever broke this morning. Wei Ying will make a full recovery as long as he listens to the doctor and rests.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whined, “I’m hungry.”

“You ate less than an hour ago.” An outsider may have thought Lan Wangji was reasoning with his husband, but Xichen knew Wangji would do whatever Wei Wuxian requested of him, no matter how ridiculous.

“A-Zhan~” Wei Wuxian gingerly reached for Wangji’s hand. When he found it, Wangji clasped their fingers together, stroking his thumb along the back of Wei Wuxian’s hand. For someone as terrified of dogs as Wei Wuxian, he certainly had the Puppy Eyes™ perfected as he looked up at Lan Wangji with pure, unfiltered adoration.

“If Wei Ying wishes,” Wangji said, bringing Wei Wuxian’s hand to his mouth and trailing a line of kisses down his wrist as if they were alone. “I will cook for Wei Ying.” In a fluid moment, Lan Wangji stood from their bed. Bending down, he rearranged their blankets so Wei Wuxian would be warm and comfortable without him and pressed a kiss to Wei Ying’s forehead. “Be good.”

“Hurry back!” Wei Ying waved cutely at Wangji.

“Mn.” Xichen could see Wangji smiling.

Bowing at his brother, Wangji was about to apologize for not immediately addressing Xichen but Xichen waved Wangji off. “Wangji, I believe your husband is waiting,” he said teasingly.

With a nod, Wangji swept out of the jingshi.

“Ah, I will join you,” Sizhui rose to his feet and scurried after Wangji. “May we check on Jingyi on our way to the kitchens as well?”

Left alone with his brother-in-law, Xichen took a seat on the chair Wangji had set by their bed for the doctor.

Taking a cursory glance around the Jingshi to see what changes had been made in the year since he entered seclusion, he found evidence of Wei Wuxian everywhere. While outwardly as immaculate as ever, Xichen could see piles of half finished talismans and books stacked unevenly on Wangji’s work desk. The closet door was opened with the slightest crack, but Xichen could see the dark robes Wei Wuxian preferred neatly lined up beside Wangji’s white Gusu Lan robes. On the bookshelf, Xichen would see where Wei Wuxian had added to Wangji’s collection of books, as well as little trinkets lining the shelves. Mostly, they were little bunnies carved from jade, wood, or bronze. Wangji once considered such items as superfluous, but they made Wei Ying happy and thus became a necessity.

In particular, Xichen found his eyes drawn to the large painting hanging on the wall of the Jingshi directly across the door where everyone would see when they entered. It was a family portrait of Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Sizhui with their instruments in the back hills surrounded by Wangji’s bunnies. Lil’ Apple was in the background, munching on an apple. Xichen recognized the brushwork to be Wei Wuxian’s, having seen his doodles as a guest disciple many years earlier.

Xichen was also pleased to note that the dark bags that had lined Wei Wuxian’s eyes before the conference had faded even more and that the bundle of herbs he had given to Wangji sat on their bedside table, clearly used. Several other medicinal pouches had joined it; Xichen recognized several mild anesthetics and spirit cleansing herbs.

“Xichen-gege,” Wei Wuxian said. It had been less noticeable when speaking to Wangji, but Wei Wuxian’s words were slightly slurred as though he wasn’t fully coherent. Glancing at all the medicinal pouches by their bed, Xichen guessed Wei Wuxian was still in a fair amount of pain. Though he had never explicitly given Wei Wuxian permission to address him so informally, Xichen found that he liked the familiarity.

“Xichen-gege,” Wei Wuxian repeated, with a hint of urgency.

“Yes, Young Master Wei?”

“Da ge,” Wei Wuxian said, eyes glazed over with happiness, “isn’t Lan Zhan the best? Lan Zhan is so good to me.”

Amused, Xichen decided to play along Wei Wuxian’s antics. Xichen nodded, “Wangji is indeed excellent.”

“Lan Zhan is the best at cooking. A-Zhan is perfect at everything. His arms are so strong and he holds me so well and Da ge, did you know Lan Zhan is ticklish in the crook of his elbow? I found out by accident and I’m the only one who knows so don’t tell anyone!” Wei Wuxian was babbling and Xichen felt his heart warm at how much sheer, unadulterated adoration and love was radiating off of his brother-in-law.

Perhaps this should have been an uncomfortable discussion to partake in, but Xichen found he didn’t mind watching Wei Wuxian profess his love for Wangji. Their feelings were not a secret and Xichen found joy in the knowledge that his judgement of Wei Wuxian as a good friend for Wangji to have was at least correct. Having been witness to their shameless confession to each other in the Guanyin Temple, such innocent declarations of Wei Wuxian’s love simply filled Xichen with warmth.

“Da ge, da ge! Are you listening? Did you know Lan Zhan once gave me chickens he stole? He even vandalised property! What a bad influence Hanguang-jun is! But I still love my A-Zhan because he did it just for me. But only for me! He can’t steal chickens for anyone else!”

Lan Xichen was rather dubious of the assertion that Wangji would ever commit such a petty crime, but he had also long since learned that there was no length Wangji would not go to for Wei Wuxian. “Did you enjoy the chickens?”

Wei Wuxian pouted but his tone remained bright. “I had to put them back but I’m sure Lan Zhan would give me more if I wanted. They could make friends with the bunnies. And Lil’ Apple! Da ge, I liked the chickens so much because Lan Zhan gave them to me. I like anything A-Zhan gives me.”

For a long time, Lan Xichen had been unable to hear, or even think, of the word da ge without hurting as it had become a reminder of how they, how he himself , had failed Nie Mingjue, but Xichen found that he rather enjoyed being called da ge by his brother-in-law. The direct Lan family had never been big, but Wei Wuxian was an excellent addition no matter what their uncle thought.

~~~

Lan Xichen had never liked Jinlin Tai. Under Jin Guangshan, under Jin Guangyao, and even now under Jin Ling, Jinlin Tai had only ever been an ostentatious display of wealth that Lan Xichen had never been comfortable with.

It was Sect Leader Jin’s birthday and his advisors wanted to throw a massive party to celebrate while conspicuously reminding everyone that despite the dishonourable actions of their previous two Sect Leaders, they were still unbelievably wealthy and incredibly powerful.

Having rediscovered his footing as Lan Sect Leader, Xichen found that he had become more aware of those around him. He had never been unobservant, given the reserved nature of his own brother, but Xichen was finding his observational capacity beginning to spill into the territory of being overaware. This awareness largely manifested itself in the less generous observations of pettiness around him. When Gusu Lan had arrived, Xichen noticed how Sect Leader looked at Wangji with absolute terror and immediately continued apologizing profusely to Wangji for his role in the disasterous nighthunt from two months earlier, and to Wei Wuxian for not understanding wolves were dogs but worse. During the banquet, he noticed how Sect Leader Sima made unbecoming advances towards the daughter of Sect Leader Zhao, how Jin Chan and a small group of Jin disciples mockingly laughed at each word said by Jin Ling, how Sect Leader Jiang and Wangji were very obviously avoiding looking at each other, and he couldn’t help the distaste he continued to feel towards Moling Su, a feeling which Wangji felt even more strongly. Xichen also noticed that Moling Su had been excluded from most cross-sect activities and that Lanling Jin had invited them to their leader’s birthday banquet as a reminder of their irrelevance. They could come to a birthday banquet and bear gifts, but they could not participate in any activities of value.

He also noticed how Wei Wuxian’s eyes filled with tears when Sect Leader Jin was introduced with his courtesy name for the first time, and he noticed how Wangji immediately reached over to hold Wei Wuxian’s hand when it happened.

When it had begun raining outside, Xichen noticed how Wei Wuxian melded even closer into Wangji’s side as Wangji gave Wei Wuxian increasingly concerned looks.

He noticed that two hours into the banquet, once the dinner had shifted into a open socialization period, that Wei Wuxian would rub his waist in discomfort. This was the same hip that had been broken a couple months ago during that unfortunate night hunt Wangji was still upset with Jingyi and Jin Ling over. It would be improper for Wangji to blatantly hold his husband’s waist, but Xichen could see how Wangji would discreetly give Wei Wuxian some spiritual energy throughout the night to ease the pain.

While Wangji and Sect Leader Jiang were blatantly avoiding each others’ paths and firmly standing on opposite sides of the room, Lan Xichen noticed that Wei Wuxian had slipped away from the banquet entirely after speaking briefly to Sect Leader Jin.

Wangji approached Xichen shortly after making this observation. “Xiongzhang.” Wangji bowed. Wei Wuxian's red ribbon flickered from under Wangji's long sleeves as he raised his arms.

“Wangji,” Xichen bowed in response, “Where is Xiao Wei?”

“Wei Ying is not feeling well.” Although the response is deadpan and diplomatic, Xichen can see the tension and concern in his brother’s eyes even though it would be a grave insult to Lanling Jin for the Chief Cultivator to leave early.

However, as the Lan Sect Leader who is participating in his first event since recently leaving seclusion... “My apologies to the Chief Cultivator,” Xichen says, bowing again to his brother, “this Sect Leader must also excuse himself.”

Wangji knows exactly what his brother is doing, and Xichen can see some of the tension ease from Wangji’s eyes.

It is raining harder than expected when Xichen steps outside, but the wide eaves of the Jinlin Tai roofs keep him dry.

The Lan entourage has been given adjacent rooms and Xichen finds himself stopping in front of Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s room. The unexpected silence behind the door gives him pause, but Xichen knocks on the door anyway.

The door opens to show a dishevelled Wei Wuxian who has exchanged his formal robes for a simple inner robe that Xichen suspects belongs to Wangji and an outer robe that definitely belongs to Wangji. The clothing hangs loosely off Wei Wuxian's lean frame. Wei Wuxian’s hair is flowing loosely down his back, the elaborate pins and headpieces Wangji has painstakingly combed into his hair earlier now abandoned on the dresser. Wangji’s ribbon is in Wei Wuxian’s hand, his fingers stroking the impeccable cloud embroidery.

“Wangji was worried about you,” Xichen says, stepping into the room.

Wei Wuxian steps back to sit at the low tea table, vaguely gesturing for Xichen to join him. “Did Lan Zhan send you?”

“You could say that,” Xichen says, kneeling as Wei Wuxian pours them tea. He notices how Wei Wuxian’s legs are not crossed properly as they had been during the banquet. One leg is sticking out to the side, slightly bent at the knee.

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian gives a self-deprecating smile as he passes Xichen his tea. “You can tell Lan Zhan I’m fine.”

The tea is still hot, but Xichen takes a sip anyway. “I am also concerned for my brother-in-law.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t look surprised, but Xichen notices how Wei Wuxian looks down at his own cup.

When Wei Wuxian says nothing, Xichen continues, “Is your injury still bothering you?”

Xichen can see Wei Wuxian about to spew empty reassurances and stops him before he can begin. “I am not as astute as Wangji,” Xichen says, setting down his cup, “nor am I as well-read in your body language as Wangji, but it is clear to me that you have been in discomfort all evening.”

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian’s hands clench at his borrowed robes, pulling the fabric tighter around himself in a poor mimicry of Lan Zhan’s arms around him. “It is…” Wei Wuxian pauses for a moment to think, perhaps to contemplate how candid he should be. “I am still sore. My leg doesn’t appreciate being folded for long periods of time. Dogs bite harder than you think, you know.”

“And your hip?” Xichen inquires gently, knowing that for all Wei Wuxian likes to complain about petty annoyances and minor inconveniences, Wei Wuxian’s internal conflicts are as closed off as Wangji’s are, if not more.

Wei Wuxian shrugs almost casually, although Xichen can see Wei Wuxian shifting his weight. Smiling vacuously, Wei Wuxian says, “I thought the doctor was exaggerating when she said it takes upwards of six months for non-cultivators to recover from broken bones. It’s been over two months but it still hurts to stand or sit for too long.”

“You are recovering well, regardless.”

“It is strange to be reminded of your own mortality,” Wei Wuxian says mirthlessly. “Isn’t it funny? I literally died and came back to life and almost had my soul destroyed but it’s a stupid tree that actually shoves vulnerability at my face. That, and Jingyi making stupid bets with Jin Ling.”

Though the words are almost bitter, Xichen can hear the underlying affection Wei Wuxian has for his wayward juniors.

“Jingyi is very sorry,” Xichen says diplomatically, humour dancing across his features. He notices how Wei Wuxian’s cup is empty and reaches for the teapot to refill both their cups.

Nodding his thanks, Wei Wuxian pours the tea down his throat. “I should be too young for this, all these pains and aches. My heart can’t take all this stress. Lan Zhan is the worst, saying the most embarrassing things! And all so genuine! I need warnings before Lan Zhan speaks because my heart really can’t take it! Honestly, that Jin Ling must be sneaking off with Lan Zhan behind my back. Where else could be have learned to pull off that trick with his courtesy name?”

Wei Wuxian complaining about Lan Zhan’s declarations of love are a staple in every conversation and never fails to entertain Xichen. Wangji is exceedingly over the top in his expressions of love, but so is Wei Wuxian and it fills Xichen with warmth when he sees how happy his brother is. But, Xichen also hears how Wei Wuxian stumbles over courtesy name . He sips at his tea again, waiting for Wei Wuxian to continue.

And he does, after finishing off his tea. While Xichen refills Wei Wuxian’s cup, Wei Wuxian speaks.

“You know, Xichen-gege, I was the one who gave Jin Rulan his name.”

Surprise flickers across Xichen’s face; his eyes widen but he says nothing because Wei Wuxian has more to say.

“Jiang Cheng made fun of me for choosing Rulan. Because lan . I wasn’t really thinking about it at the time. There wasn’t much I could think about with what little of me was left from the resentful energy, but lan just sounded pretty and I guess I loved Lan Zhan before I ever understood what that kind of love was. Jin Ling hated it though, and who can blame him? He says it’s too feminine but we all know it’s because I chose it.” Wei Wuxian isn’t crying, but his eyes are watery in the candlelight.

Xichen hates it.

A sad Wei Ying makes a sad Wangji but in his heart, Xichen knows that Wei Wuxian is not someone who is meant to be sad.

“Regardless, it seems that Sect Leader Jin has accepted you as his uncle.”

Wei Wuxian turns those watery eyes toward Xichen and Xichen’s heart clenches. “That doesn’t make me not responsible for shijie’s death. Or Jin Zixuan.”

Xichen isn’t quite sure what to say, and he sips his tea so he can think about what he can say when a flash of lightning streaks the room with light. The subsequent clap of thunder causes Wei Wuxian to flinch. Not by much -- the cup into his hands does not spill over his fingers -- but it is disturbingly clear exactly what Wei Wuxian thinks of the weather.

“Wei Wuxian?” Xichen reaches out when Wei Wuxian says nothing.

“Ah, sorry, sorry,” Wei Wuxian rushes to apologize, plastering an empty smile on his face. “I just don’t like storms very much.”

“Childhood fear?” Xichen asks. Friendly as he is with his brother-in-law, there are times when Xichen is strikingly aware of how little of Wei Wuxian’s life he actually knows. He does not understand why Wei Wuxian fears dogs, or why Wangji has strictly designated one field for kite flying where Wei Wuxian will never see the juniors and youngest disciples play.

Shaking his head, Wei Wuxian sets his tea cup back down. His expression is carefully blank, but Xichen can see the slight tremble of his fingers. “Not exactly.”

When Wei Wuxian drifts off, Xichen tries to pull him back into the present. “Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flicker up in surprise; Xichen has never used his given name before even though they are family now. “Ah, sorry. A lot of my worst memories happened in a storm. And it’s so cold and wet!”

The last part is so blatantly tacked on in an attempt to minimize how much of himself Wei Wuxian is offering but Xichen suddenly realizes how Wangji meticulously schedules nighthunts that Wei Wuxian supervises on days that will not rain, how Wangji played melancholy music during rainy days during Xichen’s seclusion, and how Wei Wuxian is the most tired after a rainy night.

“It is okay to dislike the rain,” Xichen says, after a long silence. Wei Wuxian has lost his empty smile and his eyes are still watery as he wraps Wangji’s robes even tighter around himself. “I find it difficult to be in the Cold Springs Cave, in spite of the sacredness of Lan Yi’s cave. We cannot control the associations we create between our feelings and our circumstances and should not blame ourselves for such perceived weaknesses. The blame is not ours to bear.”

Their tea is now lukewarm, but Xichen refills his cup anyway. Wei Ying’s cup is still full, though the tea is now cold. Sipping at his tea, Xichen sees how the tension lessens ever so slightly from Wei Ying’s shoulders and his grasp on Wangji’s robe is no longer at risk of ripping the fine fabric. Wangji’s ribbon is still draped over Wei Ying’s hand and Wei Ying is running his fingers over the detailed needlework for comfort, to ground himself.

Wei Wuxian sits in quiet contemplation as Lan Xichen adds, “Rulan is an excellent name. I believe Sect Leader Jin has grown into it quite well.”

With a watery smile, Wei Wuxian looks back up at Xichen. “Thank you, da ge,” Wei Ying pauses momentarily before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

Xichen smiles gently. “We are family, Xiao Wei. Gusu Lan takes care of our own, even from ourselves and our own melancholies. There is nothing to be sorry for.”

~~~

The first problem was that Lan Zhan was gone for the week on a diplomatic trip to Yunmeng Jiang. The second problem was that Lan Zhan had taken Sizhui and Jingyi with him.

The third problem, and most pressing, was that Lan Zhan had left Wei Ying behind in Cloud Recesses. Alone. With neither husband nor son. Not even Wen Ning was nearby, having gone off night hunting with a band of open-minded rogue cultivators he had met in Caiyi Town.

It wasn’t that Wei Ying was bitter at having been left behind, exactly. He wasn’t not bitter, but it wasn’t as if he had been drinking vinegar.

“Can you believe it!” Wei Wuxian wasn’t yelling, really. His voice was a few decibel levels above what was normal for him, but it was Cloud Recesses, most of the junior disciples were in class while the senior disciples were meditating, and Wei Wuxian might as well have been screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs at midnight with the looks he was receiving from the Lan Elders he passed. “Lan Er Gege abandoned me here! My husband gets to go off gallivanting around Lotus Pier with our son while I have been forsaken!”

Wei Wuxian carried several haphazardly balanced bundles of vegetables and apples as he made way to the back mountain. As usual, Wangji’s ribbon was tied securely in Wei Wuxian’s hair. The silky tails of the ribbon fluttered behind Wei Wuxian, carried by the breeze.

Xichen stayed several paces behind Wei Wuxian, carrying his own treats for the rabbits in baskets and smiling neutrally at the passing Elders to placate them.

“Lan Zhan and A-Yuan can’t even enjoy the food! They’ll walk past all the vendors, all the wonderful scents and spices and not realize what they’re missing!”

Silently, Xichen noted that Wangji’s spice tolerance had increased rather significantly after nearly two years of marriage to Wei Wuxian.

“Lan Zhan can’t even stand Jiang Cheng! I had to stop Lan Zhan from pulling Bichen on Jiang Cheng at the last Cultivation Conference! Me! The Yiling Patriarch! I had to be the voice of reason!” Wei Ying raged as he aggressively stomped towards Wangji’s rabbit enclosure.

One head of cabbage tumbled out of Wei Wuxian’s arms. Wei Wuxian didn’t notice and simply continued his rampage into the rabbits. Without a break in his step, Xichen gracefully scooped the wayward vegetable from the ground and followed his brother-in-law into the rabbits.

Carefully, he placed the basket on the ground and checked to see if there was any risk of squishing a rabbit before sitting himself down in the grass. Wei Ying had done nothing of the sort, having simply dove directly onto the ground. Any unsuspecting rabbits would know to race out of the way in time. Chaotic as he was, the rabbits had long since become accustomed to Wei Wuxian’s brand of chaos.

And they knew he came with treats.

With rabbits perched on his torso and nibbling at the bok choy they had brought, Wei Ying turned to Xichen with a thoughtful look.

“Da ge,” Wei Ying said, eyes downcast and morose even as he lay on his back, “what do you think would have happened to your relationship with Lan Zhan if he had stayed with me in the Burial Mounds?”

Startled, Xichen looked at Wei Ying. “Why do you ask?”

As Xichen watched, Wei Ying didn’t say anything at first. He fed the rabbits on his chest two more leaves of bok choy before turning back to Xichen.

“Its just,” Wei Ying drifted off, head shifting so he was looking directly up at the clear blue sky. Only a few wispy clouds streaked thin lines across the skies, “I was just curious.”

“It is unlike Xiao Wei to think about that period,” Xichen hummed, thinking about what if Wangji had truly abandoned Gusu Lan back then. What would he have done then? What could he have done?

Wei Wuxian stretched an arm out, enticing a smaller bunny to snuggle against his side. “Lan Zhan doesn’t like it when I think too hard about the past,” he says ruefully, treating the new bunny to an apple slice. “It makes me sad. But it’s hard not to think about the past when Lan Zhan is with Jiang Cheng.”

Even as he continued to ponder the thought of Wangji in the Burial Mounds, Xichen suddenly understood what Wei Wuxian was really thinking about. “You miss him.”

“Of course I miss him! I miss my husband when he leaves the room. I miss him when he stands too far away from me in a big room. I miss him when he is already at the top of a flight of stairs and I’m still down at the bottom.”

“Xiao Wei,” Xichen looked at Wei Wuxian, unimpressed, knowing that Wei Wuxian was intentionally trying to delay the real conversation he wanted to have.

Sighing, Wei Wuxian talked about what he really wanted to say. “Jiang Cheng was my brother in every way that mattered.”

Wei Ying paused for a long time, content to feed the bunnies as they surrounded him. There was a little white one with black spots nuzzling Wei Ying’s neck that had just been born the past spring. It was the only one who wasn’t purely white and it was Wei Ying’s favourite.

Xichen said nothing, content to feed the rabbits that had surrounded him as he waited for Wei Ying to collect his thoughts.

“After the Guanyin Temple, I spoke to Jiang Cheng. We didn’t plan it, but we ran into each other in the Unclean Realm. Neither of us had told Nie Huaisang we were going to visit but I think Nie-xiong still planned it,” Wei Ying huffs out a dry laugh. Nie Huaisang was now the black sheep to be wary of in the cultivation world, and wasn’t that just ridiculous?

(Deep down, Wei Wuxian knew Nie Huaisang had always been smarter than he let on. Not book smart -- never book smart -- but the artist in Nie Huaisang saw more with a single glance than Wei Wuxian could ever see in any amount of time.)

“He yelled at me and threatened to break my legs. We cried and apologized to each other. I went back to Lotus Pier with him because he threatened to break my legs if I didn’t. But I wanted to see what it was like when people weren’t trying to kill me. But it was all wrong, you know? Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu weren’t there, Shijie wasn’t there, and no one I grew up with was there. I realized that Jiang Cheng is the only person left in the world who knows who I was as a child and I don’t know what to do with that.

“Da ge, you tell me stories about Lan Zhan all the time. And I love them! And it makes Lan Zhan happy even when we laugh at him because it means we’re getting along. But Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan hate each other. I didn’t think Lan Zhan could hate anyone as much as he hated me but then I saw him look at Jiang Cheng.”

“Wangji never hated you,” Xichen jumped in instinctively. He hadn’t intended to interrupt Wei Ying, and he knew Wei Ying now understood the entirety of Wangji’s feelings for him, but it would never not be strange hearing about the possibility of a Wangji who didn’t love Wei Ying with his entire being.

Wei Ying smiled, thinking about his husband. “He didn’t. Lan Zhan really is the best. I couldn’t stand being in Lotus Pier because it wasn’t right. It isn’t home anymore and the entire time I just wanted Lan Zhan with me so I could show him everything I saw.

“I talked to Jiang Cheng before I left. Really talked. I didn’t tell him how hard it was to enjoy being in Lotus Pier without Shijie and everyone I knew, but I think he knew. He said that I had always chosen Lan Zhan over him and that he should have expected this to be no different. It’s true, isn’t it? I have always chosen Lan Zhan, except when I took the Wens to the Burial Mounds.”

When nearly a minute passed and Wei Weuxian didn’t add anything more, Xichen spoke. “In the Nightless City,” he said, startling Wei Ying with his abrupt change of topic, “I saw you fight Wangji. I saw Wangji fight with you when you came down from the rooftops. I watched Wangji cut down anyone who could have harmed you and I kept our disciples away.”

Gently brushing the bunnies on his chest back onto the ground, Wei Ying slowly sat back up. His earlier hip injury had long since healed, but Xichen still found himself looking for signs of  discomfort as Wei Ying moved. Why? Wei Ying wanted to ask but he couldn’t find the words to do it.

Seeing the question, the confusion, written across Wei Ying’s face, Xichen continued while stroking the soft ears of the rabbit in his lap. “You know that our family is passionate and fiercely devoted to those we love. Wangji is no different. He may be the fiercest of us all,” Xichen smiled wryly. “If I had allowed Wangji to cross swords with one of our own, I would have forced him to choose between two factions of his heart. That is not a fair decision to thrust upon someone. I was scared. I think I knew, even then, perhaps especially then, that Wangji would have chosen you over me. For a long time, until recently, I did not wish to think too deeply about what Wangji would have chosen. He has always chosen you, and I was not ready to face the reality that he would choose you over Gusu. I believe, if I had forced the choice upon him, I would have lost him forever.”

Picking up the little spotted bunny, Wei Ying cradled her gently in his arms. He fed her an apple slice as he looked at Xichen. “Me? Would he have? The rules were -- are -- so important to Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying trailed off.

“Not so.” Lan Xichen said with absolute certainty. “Wangji entered the forbidden section of our library without permission to research ways to counter the effect of demonic cultivation. He was punished when he returned from visiting you at the Burial Mounds.”

Wei Ying was shocked. “He did that? For me?”

Xichen nodded. “When he was whipped for supporting you, he asked Uncle ‘who is right? Who is wrong? What is black? What is white?’ ”

A strangled noise came from Wei Ying. He was now clutching the spotted rabbit with both hands as if the rabbit was all that was keeping him grounded. “He....Lan Zhan said that?” When Xichen nodded, Wei Ying continued, in awe, “I...there is a lot I don’t remember from my first life. But those words, those are the words I said to Lan Zhan when he came to stop me. When I escaped with the Wens. Lan Zhan...he really said that?”

“Uncle was furious,” Xichen said with a small smile, borrowing one of Wei Wuxian’s techniques to lighten their conversation. The rabbit in his lap had grown restless and shaken off Xichen’s hand. Unbothered, Xichen watched as the rabbit hopped out of his lap back into the field.

Turning back to Wei Ying, whose little spotted bunny was licking at his chin, Xichen said, “I do not know the entirety of what has transpired between you and Sect Leader Jiang. I do not doubt that you loved each other greatly and continue to care for the other, just as I do Wangji, but you were pushed to make a decision prematurely and Jiang Wanyin was unprepared for the consequences of that decision. Unlike Wangji and I and Gusu Lan, Yunmeng Jiang was never granted the luxury of time.”

“Lan Zhan still blames Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying says quietly. The rabbit in his arms has grown restless and is now perched on his shoulder, nibbling at his hair.

Brushing invisible dust from his outer robe, Xichen spoke. “I saw you fall. I heard Wangji scream and watched as he leapt after you. I watched you slip from his grasp and heard Wangji cry out afterwards. We have had eighteen years to come to terms with our role in the events, years that you have not had, but it is still difficult for Wangji to see Jiang Wanyin as anything other than the one who turned his back on his brother.”

“It was my choice to fall,” Wei Ying’s throat is choked with tears that have yet to fall, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“But Jiang Wanyin made choices that deepened the chasm between you.” Xichen held up a hand when Wei Ying opened his mouth to disagree. “Choices were made on both ends, but Jiang Wanyin made his decisions out of the unpreparedness of seeing you choose Wangji. It seems inevitable now to think that you ever had a choice that wasn’t Wangji, but it was not so clear back then. Just as I had not been ready to lose Wangji, Jiang Wanyin had not been ready to lose you. Until Jiang Wanyin is able to accept that you and Wangji were always destined to choose the other, it will be difficult for either of them to view the other with anything but resentment. I am only thankful that I was never in a position to force Wangji to choose between us, and that I was given enough time to repair my relationship with Wangji and to make my peace with our fate.”

Smiling a watery smile, Wei Ying sets the restless little spotted rabbit down on his lap where she nibbles at the remnants of a bok choy stem.

“Do you regret your choices?” Xichen’s voice was strained. He didn’t want to ask this and was fearful of the answer, even though he knew there was nothing to fear and he already knew what Wei Ying would say.

As the tears finally overflow from his eyes, Wei Ying looks at Xichen and says with absolute certainty, “how can I, when my choices have led me to Lan Zhan?”

Feeding the last of their prepared snacks to the spotted rabbit, Wei Ying wipes his tears with his sleeve before turning to Xichen.

“Everyday I think my heart is going to burst with how much I love Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says softly, cheeks aflame. His eyes are downcast and darting, usually modest for someone who regularly shows off the love bites Wangji leaves on him.

Xichen beams, happy for the happiness his brother and Wei Wuxian have finally found after so much suffering. “Then cherish that love because it will always be enough.”

[untit1ed]

6.47 p.m clutters of intricate personal philosophy

I didn’t know. I always told myself I did not know. How destructive it might have been, how decreasing it might have seemed, it was my way of stopping the endless stream of thoughts that always went through my mind. The universe cannot be captured in such a small storage space, my brain don't have enough capacity to contain the wonders it desires. I told my bestfriend once that my mind methaphorically was a library full of experiences and knowledge I had gathered, archived and filed down somewhere in my head. I also told him that at times, the papers would fly loose, wrap themselves into paperplanes, and just fly in around in the library within a whirl of invisible air. These were the thoughts “in use”. I’ve been thinking about the imagery, and come to the conclusion that it’s slightly inaccurate. If it was a library, then it would be a library without walls, made up of space dust and starlight, storms and buldering dark mountains. And with paperplanes. My head seems to be expanding as much as the universe itself as times, craving the infinite and constantly longing for more to know. Unfortunately for the limitations, I am simply human - and despite my search for answers, I have no possible way of ever getting them. I seek answers that are out of this world, and the more I do know, the less I understand, as dear Socrates said.

Knowledge is a strange thing. For when are you, in fact, smart? Is it when you’re able to solve the most complicated math piece without any particular help? Is it when you know how to act with ease around people, as in social cohesion? Are you smart if you’re fast with a reply when your teacher ask you a question, or are the smart ones in reality those who, perhaps, don’t say much, but question some bigger meaning with everything?

I can’t tell where I belong, if I should or if I’m even smart in any way conventional. Maybe I don’t want to be. Sometimes ignorance truly is bliss. Without knowing of all the unfair conditions all over, without knowing of pain, without thinking so goddamn much over unrighteousness and suffering - perhaps, I would find more ease. Every single action, has a set of thoughts belonging to it - “What am I doing?”, “Is this right?”, “Does it benefit me or others, or no one at all?”, “What consequences will it have, and will I be able to cope with them?”, “How will others react?” - and the simplicity of just living is restricted, regardless of being one of those “fuck it, I’ll do what I want”- types. Every single thing you do is bound to where you come from, where you are, who you are surrounded by, which possibilities you have to go where you want to. 

I feel suffocated and intrigued at the same time. Suffocated by all the instructions and navigations I have to manage through, all the rules and terms that I have no choice but to oblige to. Structures that are put upon me by society, by how someone else thinks or have thought. Creating ones own unique way of living is a task almost impossible to do; unless you’re a major historical figure like Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr., someone will likely have lived a similar life to what you intend or strive for. One of the major problems today with teenagers is the lack of purpose - the identity-creating process becomes threatened with a world full of media showcasing just how ordinary you are, just how many people are just like you. There’s almost nothing for us to change but our inner understanding of ourselves, and it’s scary to dig deeper into the human mind.

A lot of the things mentioned above looks cynically at existance, but at the same time, I can’t deny the significant elements that contribute to living. In my opinion, all things that cause happiness are based upon humanity.

Despite how foolish and selfishly humans may act, we all have a bond - a unified connection that keeps us together, makes us fall in love, makes us feel. We affect in ways we often are not aware of. To be intruiged by the wonders, an inevitable consequence is the acceptance of chaos and cataclysm. To see the light through the darkness, so to speak.

As I am growing older, I realize there may be more chaos in me than I have allowed myself to believe. The struggling duality of man, the sinner, the beast and the saint are equal parts to makes me an unique being. Therefore, whatever stories I have told myself about my mind are contested with figuring out who I am. For my potential lies not in what I am now, but who I choose to become.

[mewbrilysis]

MDZS Jiang Cheng Character Ending Analysis (Novel/Drama Spoilers) - BY BRI >v<

If I asked you to change the ending of mdzs, without completely impacting the actual plot, by removing one character from the story, who would you choose? Obviously, removing any major character would change the story completely, and removing a character post-reincarnation wouldn’t affect enough to change anything, since most of the cultivational world would still despise and fear Wei Wuxian, which is an important plot point. Nie Huiasang and Mo Xuanyu also carry a major role, since they are the catalysts for the post-reincarnation storyline. So now you may be considering minor characters pre-reincarnation, such as one of the clan leaders or a sibling such as Lan Xichen or Jiang Yanli. These answers, granted, would change the storyline, but they wouldn’t result in much of a better ending, if a good ending at all.

In my opinion, the sole reason mdzs arguably has a very bittersweet ending (one that leaves some readers with a sense of unfulfillment) is: Madame Yu.

The saddest part about the ending of mdzs is arguably the lost friendship between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. The story begins with them as brothers and ends with Jiang Cheng being the cause for Wei Wuxian’s death during the siege of Yiling (novel pre-reincarnation ending). One of the things that makes mdzs so captivating is trying to discover why this happened (a plot point the drama highlights more than the novel). Before diving into why Madame Yu impacts this story so much, let’s review some important aspects of Jiang Cheng’s and Wei Wuxian’s character.

Jiang Cheng is born with an older sister and is destined to become a clan leader one day. At a young age, a young boy is adopted by his family and they spark a friendship. However, as they grow up, it is noticeable how different the two are. Wei Wuxian is mischievous and seeks danger and adventure, he doesn’t like listening to rules that he finds too strict or unnecessary, and he has a habit of exploiting qualities people are shy about so he can tease them about it later (good-heartedly, of course, but something that is clearly bound to get him in some trouble). Jiang Cheng, however, is more serious and respectful with a habit of joining Wei Wuxian in causing trouble, after all, he is a teenager (and the Lan Clan rules weren’t going to stop a group of teenage boys, lmao, let’s be honest).

They are obviously very close, something that the Donghua seemed to focus on a bit better than the drama. However, it is also noticeable that he gets treated differently from Wei Wuxian when it comes to punishments. There are several points that explicitly suggest that Wei Wuxian tends to receive lesser punishments from Jiang Fengmian compared to Jiang Cheng (something Madame Yu likes to bring up every argument). Jiang Fengmian also seems to praise Wei Wuxian more than his own son, and seems to compare the two more than he should (such as when he reprimands Jiang Cheng for encouraging Wei Wuxian to think selfishly about his survival rather than the lives of others). And so, Jiang Cheng has something plaguing him: inferiority. It is arguable by some people that he has an inferiority complex; after all, despite being the next clan leader, he is not head disciple and pretty much always falls short of Wei Wuxian.

However, I offer another theory: he hates being humiliated. Yes, a quality that pretty much every person on the face of the planet has. Yes, I am saying this is the underlying cause of why everything else happens.

The reason I say this is because Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem to care that Wei Wuxian succeeds, but rather that he himself doesn’t receive the same recognition when he does something similar. When Wei Wuxian along with Lan Wangji defeated the Tortoise of Slaughter, Jiang Cheng isn’t particularly mad that Wei Wuxian killed the tortoise, but rather his words reflect: 1) worry, and 2) anger at himself. He was mad because Wei Wuxian, someone who he clearly sees as a brother figure, put himself in danger because he wanted to save people, and not just in any danger, but a life-or-death situation. Jiang Cheng makes it clear that he spent days without rest or break running to get help so that he could get back to Wei Wuxian as fast as possible, even while injured from the fights with the Wen Clan, who guarded the outside of the cave and attacked everyone who escaped thanks to Wei Wuxian’s efforts (novel scene); he even passed out the second he found people to help. Yet, when they went to save Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, everyone only praised their valiance in defeating the Tortoise of Slaughter, and Jiang Cheng’s actions were overlooked.

So, why did he get so mad at himself about this? BECAUSE OF HIS HEADASS MOM, DUH, I’VE BEEN LEADING YOU TO THIS CONCLUSION!!

Imagine, you are next in line to be clan leader, yet you aren’t head disciple, and now your mother is breathing down the back of your neck because your father is praising someone who is doing better than you. On top of this, you don’t even have the chance to speak to your father about how you feel upset that he treats you differently, because every time the topic of your father being more strict and less praising of you comes up, your mother takes the reigns and doesn’t give you the chance to speak for yourself. Now, all of a sudden, your mother is yelling at your father, saying he doesn’t love his own son and he prefers your adopted brother, and she is also yelling at your adopted brother because he is better than you, and all this is happening IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES ALL. THE. TIME!!

After putting that into perspective, are we really surprised Jiang Cheng turned out the way he did? This entire ordeal must have been HUMILIATING for him, and you KNOW it happened all the time.

Jiang Cheng grew up with this happening, and Jiang Fengmian was only stricter with him because he was going to be a clan leader, and, granted, we can all acknowledge that Jiang Cheng said some shit that his dad was justified in reprimanding him for (such as the whole thing where he told Wei Wuxian he never should have put the lives of others over himself and their clan). Of course, we should also acknowledge that Jiang Fengmian had his faults, and he should have been stricter with Wei Wuxian. As much as we all love this mischievous boi, he was the head disciple of the Jiang Clan and was far too undisciplined and unruly for the position he represented, especially while he was a disciple at Gusu and during the Archery Competition hosted by the Wen Clan (novel scene). And for real, the shit he told Lan Qiren when he asked about why Wei Wuxian was like this, this boy really replied, “It’s just the way he has always been.” That type of response wouldn’t even pass in modern era!

Of course, after all this, Jiang Cheng was going to hold some resentment for Wei Wuxian.

However, the real kicker is Madame Yu’s final words before she sends Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian away… THE WOMAN TAKES A GOOD FEW MINUTES TO JUST STRAIGHT UP YELL AT WEI WUXIAN AND BLAME HIM FOR EVERYTHING!! LIKE WTF!! Look, I’m sorry, MAAM, but the Wens were kind of trying to take over the entire cultivational world, I promise you that Wei Wuxian’s existence affected that all of zero percent. She said that he was the cause for the fall of Lotus Pier, but let’s consider how, oh yeah, LITERALLY EVERY CLAN WITHIN 100+ MILES OR SOMETHING OF THE WEN CLAN WERE INVADED AND FORCED INTO SUBMISSION NOT THAT LONG AFTER; THEY WERE GONNA DO THIS NO MATTER WHAT!! Sure, the Wens may have decided to go after Lotus Pier a bit early because they hated Wei Wuxian, but it’s not as if him not being there was going to stop any of this…? They literally went after GusuLan first, I don’t understand how Wei Wuxian can be faulted for any of this.

But, of course, Jiang Cheng is not here to listen to reason, he just lost both his parents, and years of lowkey (highkey) verbal abuse finally caught up, especially since some of his mother’s last words were blaming Wei Wuxian for everything. This is the start of our downhill slope.

I would like to take a moment and review how Jiang Cheng really received no closure with his father. His father died before Jiang Cheng ever got the chance to speak for himself and just communicate with him, and after all the arguments his mother had with him, it is clear that Jiang Cheng will always carry a part of him that believes his father didn’t truly love him.

But this is something the reader can view as misjudgment. His mother seemed to use Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian as a way to argue with Jiang Fengmian, and in Jiang Cheng’s eyes, this may be viewed as his mother standing up for him; however, looking at this as a whole, the situation isn’t so straight-forward. Quite honestly, it is hard to even tell whether Madame Yu loved Jiang Cheng, or whether she just wanted a reason to argue with Jiang Fengmian. There are points in the story that say Madame Yu ‘forced’ (I use this term loosely, but this is the term the rumors seemed to hover around) Jiang Fengmian into a marriage, and this may be her way of consistently reminding him that “You can’t leave, you have a child to raise.” If anyone has the inferiority complex, I think it can be argued that Madame Yu likely has a slight case of it. BUT! The point is that Jiang Cheng viewed his mother as “the only one on his side,” in a sense, even his own sister fought tooth and nail to be able to see Wei Wuxian even when he was shunned by the cultivational world.

Now, Wei Wuxian doesn’t exactly help his case when he turns down the path of demonic cultivation.

We all know the reason he did it, and many may argue that Jiang Cheng is a fool for thinking for even a moment that BaoShan Sanran could return his golden core, let me remind you of this:

BaoShan Sanran is very mysterious, no one really knows anything about her other than that she has reached “Enlightenment” (a term derived from Buddhism to describe someone who has found the truth of life and no longer is reborn). She is described in the book to be viewed as “immortal” and once a disciple leaves her mountain, they are forbidden from returning. The only people who know anything about BaoShan Sanran are the disciples, and even the ones that have left the mountain don’t spread much information on her. So, in essence, everyone just knows she is powerful and not to mess with her. So, please, excuse Jiang Cheng for having even a shrivel of hope. I am positive that, in his mind, being able to ‘re-grow’ your golden core was just as possible as being able to ‘trade’ you golden core (both of which he believed to be outside the realm of possibility, so yeah, both sounded insane, but he had hope, and no one suggested that ‘trading’ was even an option, so ‘re-growing’ was already mind-boggling).  So, Jiang Cheng is happy because he has his golden core back, but when he goes searching for his brother, the man is gone and no where to be found for three full months, and when he does reappear, he is using demonic cultivation and is more closed-off.

Jiang Cheng has gone through the literal worst whiplash of emotions in his life: his parents and entire sect were all brutally slaughtered; he lost his golden core; he got his golden core back, but his brother was no where to be found; his brother is back, but he is using demonic cultivation and won’t discuss the reason with him.

Now, this is where the past ‘abuse’ catches up with Jiang Cheng. He has now been forced into a leadership position in the middle of a war, and now the war is over, but his brother is still…yeah. But now, the other clans are talking and saying that he should be reprimanding Wei Wuxian, but no matter how he tries, the man doesn’t listen to him. This is, no doubt, HUMILIATING for Jiang Cheng, especially when all the other clans are constantly saying he needs to take action against Wei Wuxian because the man was becoming ‘too arrogant’ and etc. When Wei Wuxian finally stands up for the remaining Wens, Jiang Cheng is so humiliated that he didn’t want to stand up for his brother because he knew he would be shunned the same if he stood by Wei Wuxian’s side, especially since it would be as an ally and not the leader in this movement. This is the ‘herd mentality,’ in which the few vocal people in the room speak up for an argument, creating a big fuss, and even though the majority actually agrees for the other side of the argument, everyone remains quiet against this front, making it seem (and, in term, making them believe) that they are the minority and should just stay quiet. It was obvious that the Lans, Nies, and Jiangs all didn’t agree with how the Wens were being treated, but with how loud the Jin clan and co. were, they didn’t want to say anything, especially when they were all still weak and rebuilding after the war. Then, the clans started encouraging Jiang Cheng to go and act against Wei Wuxian and, fueled by the humiliation of not being able to control his subordinate, that’s exactly what he did.

I would also like to point out that Jiang Cheng only ever listened to the information the other clans were feeding him in regards to Wei Wuxian, he never actually knew what was true like we, the readers, do.

AND NOW, this is why I say Madame Yu has ruined Jiang Cheng. Let’s say that she had died a year prior to the entire war. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have her final words in his head blaming Wei Wuxian for everything; he likely would have been able to reconnect with his father and speak for himself; he would have grown closer to Wei Wuxian without his mother breathing down his neck and would go a full year without hearing an argument about why he was inferior to Wei Wuxian.

In every story, there is a ‘climax.’ In a long story like this, there can be many ‘climaxes’ especially when it comes to different characters. A climax is defined as ‘the point in the story where one decision can change the course of the rest of the book,’ or ‘the decision that alters the ending,’ as my AP English Literature teacher defines it. For Jiang Cheng, the point in the book that alters his ending is the moment he decides to trust the clans over his brother, something that makes him so clearly different from Jiang Yanli.

Yanli never stops believing in Wei Wuxian, even to her dying breath she cared for him and believed he was good. This is from the perspective of someone who literally only knew what was going on based on hearsay, never seeing Wei Wuxian and speaking with him about this. She just knew nothing was as it was told.

I truly believe that if Madame Yu had fucked off a cliff or something before the war, Jiang Cheng could’ve been just like Yanli and would have sat down and given Wei Wuxian a chance to explain his side of the story. He may have even fought alongside Wei Wuxian, because now he wouldn’t be worried about “glory” like his mother egged him to believe, but rather, he would believe more in his father’s belief that they should stand for “justice” for all people. Wei Wuxian likely would have still died, but maybe seeing the Jiang Clan fight alongside Wei Wuxian could have inspired the Lan Clan or Nie Clan to also stand with them. Imagine THAT ending, an ending in which Wei Wuxian stood alongside his brother to fight for the innocent, allying with the Lan Clan and Nie Clan against the Jin Clan, and then they win and Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have even had to die and he could’ve just gotten married to Lan Wangji right then and there and save us all the angst 200k fanfiction. LMAO, I actually think Jiang Cheng might’ve still kept his mouth shut in front of the clans, but lowkey stood up for him, and then maybe Wei Wuxian would die a different way, not by Jiang Cheng’s hand. Then he would return and everything would go as usual, but this time :((((((( Jiang Cheng is happy to see him :((((((((( and he raised Jin Ling :(((((((( like Lan Wangji raised Lan Sizhui (yeah, I think the Wens would encourage him to train him under GusuLan) :((((((((( and Jin Ling would be happy to see Wei Wuxian :((((((( and so would Lan Sizhui because he would already know he is a Wen and was raised a bit by Wei Wuxian :(((((((((( and happily ever after ;-;

You can argue that this is a reach, but I don’t think it is at all. Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (novel author) created a character that was so terrible, she single-handedly ruined the ending for her own son.

[teyrnacousland]

So remember how I said in this post that I wanted to be able to choose a Constable of the Grey, and then see an epilogue slide for that person’s rule? I did it myself. The game denied me this content and so I made my own. Here’s how I think things would go under each companion’s leadership (/second-in-command…ership)

Anyways. Enjoy!

Nathaniel

“Thank you, Commander. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Nathaniel’s appointment as Constable of the Grey is a divisive choice. The nobles who supported his father are put off by the differences between the two. Those who suffered for Arl Howe’s actions see it as a continuation of his father’s betrayal, especially those who were loyal friends of the Couslands. (If the Warden is Human Noble, their support of Nathaniel assuages many, though not all, of these fears.)

Though it sometimes takes newcomers, especially those who have been affected by Arl Howe’s treachery, time to warm up to him, they eventually come around. (If the Warden is a Human Noble, their public forgiveness of Nathaniel helps, along with his public denouncement of his father’s actions.)

Though some of the nobles try to bully him into making excessive reparations, or try to get special treatment based on past alliances they believe Nathaniel should continue, he holds his own valiantly. He welcomes the advice of his companions and subordinates in all matters, and his rule over both the Keep and the Arling is a good balance of strict and fair.

He chooses Velanna as his Senior Warden. This causes a whole new round of outrage, but Nathaniel is openly adamant about his support of her. He does his best to give her bold ideas and declarations a bit more tact without detracting from what she says and does. They’re a good team.

Velanna

“I accept. Ma serannas, lethallin. I (/we if the WC is Dalish) will show them what the (/we) Dalish can do.”

The fact that the new Constable of the Grey was an elf, and an elven mage at that, causes outrage in some circles. (If the Warden-Commander was also Dalish it inspires a panic that this was some form of takeover by the Dalish. Despite this, Velanna refused to separate herself from her Dalish heritage. The conspiracies died down eventually, but they flare up again whenever a decision or action of hers is questioned.)

Velanna, having been the First in her clan, is an excellent leader. Though many nobles are initially outraged at her brash tone and lack of tact, others still respect her for her directness. Nathaniel, her Senior Warden, often helps to smooth over any potential problems. This leads some of the more… traditional (racist) people to refer to Nathaniel as the true leader, or to try and give him credit for Velanna’s accomplishments. Fortunately, Nathaniel is quick to denounce this line of thinking, and has no issue making the chain of command clear whenever he can. 

Though Velanna at times has to fight harder than others, and is often faced with undue blame and suspicion, she excels at the position. She is organized and ambitious. She has proven herself in both battle and several political standoffs, and those who follow her hold her in the highest esteem to this day.

Anders

“Whoa, wait, me? Constable of the Grey? You can’t be serious. I’m not exactly the leader type, in case you haven’t noticed.”     (Persuade) You have too little faith in yourself. You’ll do great. “Well… if you’re sure. I’ll do my best, I guess?”

Despite, or perhaps encouraged by, the Chantry���s protests, Anders accepts the role of Constable of the Grey. (The Chantry fights against this even harder if the WC is also a mage, but ultimately the Grey Wardens operate outside of Chantry rules, so their opinions don’t matter. Some resort to spreading rumours that Vigil’s Keep has fallen to some form of maleficar uprising, perhaps even blood magic.)

His inexperience with the world and its politics is a bit of a downfall, but his companions and advisors are there to help him. Seneschal Garavel is an experienced soldier and is happy to advise him with military decisions, and his Senior Warden, Nathaniel, advises him on political matters. Justice and Sigrun are happy to advise on anything when asked, though neither has much more world experience than Anders himself, and Velanna forcefully inserts herself into most decisions anyways. Anders rule becomes somewhat of a democracy, with everyone discussing each issue and trying to come to a compromise. He’s often more of a mediator than a ruler.

Though at the start of his career he often just defers to others’ judgements, he begins to speak up for his own beliefs as time goes on. Whispers start to circulate that apostates can find a safe place at Vigil’s Keep. All are welcome to be either conscripted as Wardens or informally recruited as “advisors” and “specialists”. (Making up titles is a favoured pastime of Warden-Constable Anders. “Oh, no, no, Neria’s not an apostate. She’s the Grey Warden’s Official Expert in the Arcane Arts of Ignition” “…you mean she’s a mage who can light things on fire.” “Yep!”)

He is fair and compassionate, though sometimes overly harsh or lenient depending on the circumstances. Whenever it falls to him to pass judgement on someone for a wrongdoing or crime it always ends in a very loud debate between him, Justice, Nathaniel, and Garavel. (He tends to go easy on things like theft or desertion, and anything that had a good reason behind it. And he tends to be extra harsh on anyone who selfishly wrongs those with less power than them, and especially anyone who wrongs mages. Or elves, since it tends to get Velanna fired up and he tends to take her side in such cases.)

Though there are some who would look down on his inexperience, or his heretical beliefs, there are twice as many who would laud his good character. Those who doubt him find their doubts drifting away when they hear his heartfelt vows to help where he can, and those who would call him a heretical apostate/maleficar have trouble reconciling that belief with the friendly, if on occasion immature, man who leads them with compassion and humility. (Also pretty much all of them have had someone they know, or have been themselves personally, saved by his healing magic, so no one can really protest all that much.)

But eventually Chantry pressure (mostly pushed for by those personally offended by the continued existence and freedom) reaches Weisshaupt. The First Warden sends an “overseer” to the Keep. This overseer also agrees to the Chantry’s demands that they recruit a templar named Rolan. Unable to reach the Warden-Commander, Vigil’s Keep has no choice but to allow the takeover, and Anders is unofficially demoted to more of a figurehead than a leader. Justice urges him to fight back, but the confidence Anders has gained in his months as a leader gives way to bitter resignation. He knows if he pushes back at the Chantry they’ll only push even harder. There’s nothing he can do. 

When Anders and Justice disappear Nathaniel officially takes up the position of Warden-Constable.

Justice

“I am honoured, Commander. I shall lead the wardens justly in your absence, this I swear.”

Outside of the Warden-Commander’s inner circle, no one knows what to make of their new Warden-Constable being a Fade spirit. Aside from the Chantry, who definitely knows what they think of it. They try to object, but the Warden-Commander shuts down their complaints by reminding them that they hold no authority over the Grey Wardens.

The wardens and soldiers themselves are cautious around him, at first. Even most mages have little experience with Fade spirits. But all who have fought with Justice know him to be a valiant warrior, and anyone who spends enough time around him learns that he is an inspiring leader. Soon, his supporters begin to outweigh his detractors.

Though he does his best to make his decisions fairly, those who end up with the shorter end of the stick often resort to attacking his nature, saying that a creature such as him cannot have the complexity required to lead, let alone make judgements and decisions. Justice himself is more than happy to engage with those who think him unfit, and he surprises many with his proficiency in debating their concerns. No one has yet to present a genuine reason for him to be removed that he cannot counter, aside from baseless Chantry superstition.

Despite the hardships, Justice seems to enjoy the opportunity to inspire and empower the people, as well as the extra reach leadership gives him that allows even more opportunities to fight injustices. Though he never loses his humility, and never sees himself as above those he commands. He is one of them, and they learn to respect him for it.

As with Anders, the Chantry convinces Weisshaupt to send someone to oversee the Keep. Justice does what he can to argue, especially when the overseer agrees to recruit several Templars at the Chantry’s demand, but he is ignored. He’s ready to draw swords and fight whoever he has to, but Anders and Nathaniel convince him (and Velanna, who’s also ready to throw hands) that will only make things worse. Especially for Anders, and for the Warden-Commander since they’re the one who appointed him. 

Before disappearing, Justice passes on his title to Nathaniel Howe. 

Sigrun

“Me? Really? Thank you, Commander. I promise I won’t let you down.”

The title and position give Sigrun a renewed sense of purpose. She has something to live for, and this determination is reflected in her actions and her choices. And though some doubt her due to her inexperience and that she’s a dwarf, she takes to leadership surprisingly well.

Those who fought with her are quick to jump to her defence in the face of criticisms. Her soldiers are fiercely loyal to her and she makes sure to deserve that loyalty. Her optimism is inspiring, and her determination is contagious. (That goes both ways. She’s inspired by the peoples’ faith in her, and in return she inspires them. It’s like a huge swirling cycle of optimism and loyalty.)

Though some criticisms are right, she really doesn’t have experience in leading or in politics. Nathaniel is more than happy to help and give his advice, as is Seneschal Garavel. She lets them make many decisions, but she is always a part of the discussion leading up to those decisions. She surprises many with how good she is at managing resources and battle strategies.

She appoints Velanna as Senior Warden. Velanna’s bitterness and skepticism balance out with Sigrun’s perky optimism perfectly. Vigil’s Keep becomes known as somewhere that accepts all sorts and gives them a place. Especially dwarves inspired by tales about the casteless who became a hero (/heroes, if the HoF is a Dwarf Commoner).

[believerindaydreams]

under blue moon

oh look it’s another bit out of order. 

(may possibly get edited depending on the opinion of Syb who Doth Write Blondeyes with far more intensity than I do.)

this bit is from during Lent, before the Bus Trip of Doom. Our trio have taken up poetry sessions at the gatehouse- and somebody else is listening.

The memory shames Wallace even now, the way he and Joseph decided their lives back then. A scapular, one side brown homespun and the other the image of a saint, is less worldly than a coin; but they’d been gambling all the same. He has trouble crediting that he could ever have been so flighty. 

Reckons it best, not to admit to himself that he still might be- in ordinary time. 

This is not ordinary time. This is Lent, season of abstinence and strange sorrows, the time of year when the church’s blessed tide recedes, to expose the barren pagan world beneath. Father Paul dedicates this season to traveling, seeking reluctant converts for their flock; because now is when men reflect on their sins. 

Only Father Paul is not traveling this year, because of that- impertinence- of a brother of his, who came to visit for a day and has stayed for months. Accompanied by Joseph, gentle and distraught in his sorrows. Accompanied also, by a spirit that chose with careful precision, the moment to make itself manifest....

it is hard to credit that man as flesh and blood. 

To say that their monastery (this pit of unshriven sins, by guttering half-light)  has brought this fate upon itself would be a certain kind of blasphemy. To remain unmoved by this creature would be a rather worse one, Wallace can’t help feeling. 

He roams through the cloisters at night, disturbing the cats. 

He knows Latin better than any man here- excepting Father Paul, perhaps.

He had claimed for himself a portion of their sanctuary, carved out a worldliness in this place where there should be no such thing; thus reminding the flock that such things are, laying temptation in their path, in allways being most sly, and subtle, and cautious in his efforts...if the intent is not the breaking up of their flock, Wallace cannot imagine what else Angel Eyes might crave; and even if not, he’d bear watching. 

All of which is very poor philosophy indeed, to justify the way he has stolen away from evening prayer to spy on a guest, from the gatehouse attic. The passage out lies open and waiting. He might retreat at any moment, but chooses not to. 

“Turning and turning, in the widening gyre,” Angel Eyes reads. 

In this he is also unlike other men; his voice does not change to a carrying, artificial tone but remains serenely conversational. Wallace has become aware of its permutations, its inflections and digressions, is unable to listen without comparison to his multifold experience of priests and recitations. If it were a matter solely of the voice, he should have to consider it as fine a one as ever he’s heard. 

Joseph prefers not to read, for all his early promise as a speaker, and as for Benedict- Benedict has the sense not to read poetry, at least. His virtues may be strictly of the negative variety, but they do exist, as Christian charity requires him to acknowledge.

“He’s fallen asleep,” Joseph says. The peephole is small, but sufficient for him to see the man resting on the sofa beneath, the other who reaches for him with eager hands- 

and the third, who knocks Joseph back with his fist without missing a syllable. “The falcon cannot hear the falconer.”

“Well, he ought to be listening,” Joseph says very sullenly, not moving from the floor. 

“Things fall apart. The centre cannot hold,” Angel says. The book in his hand is a fine handsome edition, handcut pages and a heavy binding. Not quite the life of restraint promised to Father Paul, this gatehouse. 

“If I was that rude, you’d have it in for me.”

“Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...the blood-dimmed tide is loosed-”

“Why do you let him get away with everything?” Joseph asks. “That new bag, your blasphemous little suppers, all the rest of it.”

A quiet, warm and ungodly smile warms Wallace then: a story he recognises, one that he’s heard before. Not the prodigal son, but the man’s brother.

“And everywhere, the ceremony of innocence is drowned...”

He doesn’t catch Joseph’s next interruption; the man’s lowered his voice, almost as if he expects an unseen listener. 

“The best lack all conviction...”

That must be more poetry, rather than a response. Joseph pulls himself close to the chair where Angel sits, to lean his head against the other man’s knee. 

Provoking no reaction whatsoever. “While the worst, are full of passionate intensity.”

“Passion we have by the truckload,” Joseph growls. “It’s everything else that’s the problem, always has been.” 

“Surely some revelation is at hand...” Angel continues, unperturbed. 

“Like hell there is. I’m leaving after Easter.”

And finally, finally, Angel closes the book. Marking it first with a ribbon, very deliberately. 

“Are you?” he asks- and that is not in a light, conversational tone at all, but something that draws on moonless nights and the isolation of nightmare for its power. “Well, you’ve done that before.“

“I mean for good this time. Finished the con, kept my promise-” Joseph laughs, a trifle hysterically. “He’s been hanging around my neck for years, I couldn’t get rid of him. I promised I’d see him safe first, you understand? And now I’ve done it and you’ve got him and I wish to God I hadn’t, but he’s yours now. I can get back on the road, like I always meant to.“

Angel picks up the dark gloves on his lap, pulls them on his hands with a deliberate lack of hurry or concern. “Six months, Blondie. Six months when I thought you wanted me, how indifferent were you?”

“Not half as much as you thought I was,” Joseph says, abruptly calm. The answer seems to surprise Angel too; he stops, a glove half on. “Inside of a month, I knew- I wanted you for you. Selfishly. I didn’t want my partner in on it, nothing you could have done would have driven me away- well, you know it didn’t.“

“And you left without a word,” Angel says. “I chose not to ask you why. I’m not asking now.”

It would, perhaps, be a statement of great poignancy and self-denial, as seen from below- such as from Joseph’s position. From up here, Wallace can make out no expression on Angel’s features, only the top-down view of a nose and thinning hair; and a reluctant compassion enters his heart. The man’s only a man, after all. 

(Perhaps God, looking from above, finds it equally simple to distribute forgiveness; but this is hardly a perspective he’ll suggest at prayer study.)

“Tuco needed me. I knew- I knew that if I said I had to leave, that I cared about somebody so much that I’d risk us just to save him, that you’d insist on coming along. Helping. Cutting me out, maybe, or...he was in New Orleans,“ Joseph says. “Not the picturesque part, some godless subdivision on the outskirts. The liveliest man I’ve ever met, and he honestly thought that stuffing ten pounds of joy into a five pound sack would be good for him. I’d have felt better if they’d been kicking him out of a rathole.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Joseph exhales. “Tuco’s like me, a crisis just makes him mad. Mad gives you something to work with. It’s the in-between times that wear the heart down...so I took care of him, I got him back on the road, and then I was stuck again! And frankly the hustle was getting worse and worse- it’s damned hard on him, I know that. You remember what he was like the first night you met him, all turquoise and big hats and comedy foreigner- and that was toned down, because I told him Carson was the classy sort. It got a lot worse than that.”

Wallace dearly wishes he could see better, what was happening; the way the chair creaks back suggests that Angel Eyes finds this line of inquiry none too reassuring. 

“How is his poker? Professionally speaking- I wasn’t paying the closest attention to him that night, you understand.“

“Not that great. Better at reading people than I am, but his betting’s terrible. No, we were going to have to find something else to do sooner or later, and I didn’t want to come ask you for help. Not just because I was being selfish, either. I knew what you were. I didn’t want to expose him to that...” Joseph trails off. “It’s a fucking strange sort of innocence he’s got, have you noticed? Like he expects the entire world to want him dead in a ditch, but he doesn’t see why that should embitter him any. It’s worth protecting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Well, good....”

“So what made you change your mind, in the end?”

Why Joseph begins to laugh, then, is a mystery to Wallace; but then, so’s most of this conversation. “For one thing, because I missed you- but you wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer, would you? I wouldn’t either. Because I missed you, because I wasn’t inhumane enough to keep us going through hell when I knew we had another choice, not when we were sleeping in the car every night and didn’t know where our next meal was coming from...that’s the thing about saintliness, if you’re alone it’s virtuous. If anyone’s depending on you, it’s just plain sadism.”

“And you fancy yourself as a saint.” Angel Eyes is, Wallace is positive, smirking something rotten. 

Joseph stands up then, with a martyr’s contentment. “I’d like to. And without you two around, maybe I’ll manage it. You’re planning to stay on here, aren’t you? Make soup, love Tuco, not do anything that’d get him in trouble?”

“That was the general idea, yes...of course, I did throw away my entire fortune on your behalf, retire from a line of business I happen to have excelled at, and have come to the conclusion you’re an absolute and arrant coward. But you needn’t worry that I’m going anywhere. Tuco’s certainly going to need support, once you abandon him.”

“It’s not the way you think.”

“I don’t care what you make of my opinion, it’s what Tuco thinks- and keeping him from chasing after your worthless hide is going to be a job and a half, have you thought of that?”

“No. He knows that I need to do this sometimes, he’ll be fine...and by the time he realises I’m not coming back, he won’t want to follow me anymore. You’ll take care of that much, I’m giving you every opportunity.”

Angel Eyes reaches out, picks up a pipe; Wallace wrinkles his nose at the unpleasant smell. “The exasperating part of all this is, you assume I’ll do anything to keep him by my side- and the worst of that is, you’re right.”

“You two are good together. Better than I ever was for him.”

“Planning to even give him the choice, before you go?” 

“Of course I am. Benedict?”

There is a long, long silence during which nothing happens at all; then Angel Eyes begins to laugh. It’s zesty, heartfelt, not an uncanny demon’s voice. 

He would, Wallace decides, have preferred a demon voice.

“Benedict,” Joseph says, laying a hand on the sofa; but not going near, not touching him at all. “I don’t understand. This has always worked before.”

“He sleeps better these days,” Angel says, still chuckling. “Not nearly so jumpy anymore- haven’t you noticed?” 

He reaches out and pulls a pack towards him. Settles it on his lap. The action means nothing to Wallace. 

It apparently means something to Joseph, though; there’s a petulant, almost childish whine in his voice. “That’s not fair.”

“No. It isn’t.”

Joseph bangs the door, as he goes out; Benedict stirs. “Blondie? Hey- where’d he- I guess I fell asleep again, huh?”

“Understandably. Yeats has that effect on many people.” 

“Oh, but I was trying this time- they were short, I understood them. Maybe too well, that one about the mask. But at least we have the place to ourselves now-”

Wallace decides to leave, then. Fascinating as this story is, his demon has no plans to wreck this sanctuary; so he doesn’t need to hear any more. 

The satisfying weight of the rosary in his pocket helps to soothe his spirit; he welcomes in the calm, as he begins the brief familiar prayers. For Joseph’s sake, he decides.

Scapular. Joseph had flipped it, told him to call. He’d won and chosen Paul.

”You’re an idiot. Paul’s never going to fuck you or anyone else, he’s about as holy as they come. Tuco’s much better fun.”

”That’s what I love about him,” Wallace had said. “That purity. That committed celibacy...it’ll keep me holy too, living up to his standards.” 

And given all that’s happened to Joseph since, he can’t help feeling that virtue’s proved its own reward.

[earth2craig-blog]

Design Thinking 210,Task 1: Altered Reality

Introduction:

Hello there reader. Yes, I’m addressing you as an individual. You may be my lecturer here to read and evaluate what I have written for this task or you might be a fellow student or you may be none of these... Perhaps you found that this post might be interesting to read. Because of the public nature of this medium, I feel it is important to provide context: 

~Task 1: Rewriting the history of the world. In a written piece, re-imagine the history of the world. Identify one historical reality that you would like to eliminate from the history of the world. This should be a historical occurrence that lead – in your mind – to a problem that exists within our current world order. Imagine what the world would be like if this historical event/occurrence never took place.~

What this task is asking me to do is fix a problem with the world by changing/eliminating one “historical occurrence...This should be a historical occurrence that lead – in your mind – to a problem that exists within our current world order.” The phrase “in your mind” is important for you as the reader to keep in mind. This is my opinion, and my opinion is formed on my narrow context of the world, based on my experience and the experiences of those closest to me. I can not in any capacity claim that I’m an authoritative figure that can claim to know what’s best (I am a student and still learning how the world works). Another disclaimer, I will be writing this in a very informal manner as this is what is most comfortable when expressing my opinion and tackling this task in a creative manner.

Chapter 1:

So... on to the actual task. I found the instructions of this task a little difficult to follow, because I don’t think changing one historical occurrence by itself will fix a singular problem. I think “a problem that exists” exists because of a multitude of reasons instead of just one. The world is complex after all.

Also, it would be easy to say, “I wish Hitler never came into power”, but, I think actually that that history has some significance in shaping our views as a society. That may sound insensitive. What I mean is that bad experiences can shape us into better people. Just as an individual can learn through, for example, being bullied (not trying to liken genocide to school ground bullying, obviously very different scales of hatred). Being bullied is obviously something as an individual you don’t want to experience, but, through being bullied as an individual you can learn not to bully by being able to empathize with anyone you interact with. And as an individual, you can also learn how to stand up for yourself when subjected to conflict. So Hitler is someone we look back on and say to ourselves, “lets not be that guy”, and “lets not let that Hitler guy push us around”.

I definitely don’t perceive the world as a perfect place, there are a lot of problems, but although it’s easy to say: “I wish this thing was different”, changing and fixing problems can only be done as a group through effective dialogue and in a lot of ways, the world is growing and changing for the better (although progress can feel incredibly slow). This dialogue is where I would like to focus my attention.

If we think of any problem in the world: the wealth gap, homophobia, racism, sexism, etc. All these varying problems are made up of ideology. It is clear that people can have very opposing beliefs. The problem, I think, is that we aren’t effectively taught how to communicate or empathize with one another... And so the problem that I will be addressing is the educational system, throughout the world.

Chapter 2

Now that I have (finally) identified the problem that I want to change, I’ll go into greater detail of why I think our educational system currently is problematic. All our conflicts are based on ideology. As children, we are in a state of learning how the world works, and we learn how the world works through our family’s ideals, interacting with our friends, religion, what we are taught in school, the media we interact with and even the products that we buy. We can interact with ideals both in an active and passive state, aware or unaware. We can be taught ideology that can be... for lack of a better word, wrong and then proceed to never question it.

Out of all the ways that we as children learn how to interpret and interact with the world, what is the lowest common denominator, a common practice we engage in that can be altered. We can’t choose our family, religion is (supposedly?) a freedom of choice no one has the right to alter, media is created by individuals usually with the purpose of selling you either an ideal, narrative or a product, often by creating a false ideal (buying a Starbucks coffee makes you a charitable or environmentally conscious person when in reality you are still just consuming selfishly for the sake of consuming or convenience)... School is an artificial system quite literally designed to shape us. It’s something your parents most likely went to, it’s where future media creators, entrepreneurs, designers and even politicians learn the tools necessary (hopefully) in order for them to know what they are doing.

But, the educational system doesn’t adapt or change easily. The educational system can be influenced or corrupted (depending on your viewpoint) by religion, by families not liking what is taught or even by governments promoting propaganda in our history... With so many varying ideologies, and for a person to be well informed enough to decide what is right or wrong, you need to be subjected to everything, but instead, what we learn is designed to be learnt and everything else can seem censored.

Chapter 3

Here’s what I believe based on my experience of school. I think school fails at teaching us to be good, ethical people. It doesn’t teach us to be bad people directly through what is being taught, it just is such a passive experience that how we are taught doesn’t have much effect. My role in school was always as a passive listener. I listened, and listened, and listened some more to my teachers. And when no teachers were present, kids reverted to engaging in questionable ideological practices, essentially bullying or behaving in an unsuitable manner in order to feel accepted. It’s not as if teachers don’t tell us not to bully, and it is very clearly stated in the school rules. We have classes like Life Orientation where we do talk about “not doing drugs” only to later be offered some by a fellow Life Orientation classmate. The teaching of ideals, the theory of ideals, the effects, all of it need more of a focus and needs to somehow be more active  and engaging, more exercise based and maybe even taught earlier.

Most of us would have seen a video somewhere of kids being tested in social experiments. It could be that a kid is given a marshmallow, and if they avoid eating it, they will get another one. Or the experiment where there are two children, and only one of them is given a plate of treats, and that kid can decide whether to share or not. That could be a practical example of how to investigate how to treat others based on how we want to be treated. And from there it empowers a child to talk about how they feel on the matter. If we just listen, we don’t have a voice. Now don’t get me wrong, being able to listen is obviously an important skill to have as well, especially in order to empathize and understand others, but there needs to be a back and forth open dialogue between everyone, not just one person imparting all of their ideals onto a group of people.

Outside of school, we have rules and laws. Things like don’t pollute and don’t speed. We all as people know that doing these things is wrong. But to me, it feels like that the bad behavior in school follows us out of it, because I see people very comfortably dropping their waste on the ground instead of disposing of it properly, and I’ve seen traffic enforcer cars break speed limits or drive in an unsafe manner for seemingly no justifiable reason other than because they can.

If we can just do what we like, say what we like because we can, without taking into consideration others, it’s just a recipe for disaster.

Chapter 4

Where did it all go wrong? Honestly. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly, educational systems have been around for a long time. I think the safest argument to make is when capitalism started to take hold, when the shift from an individual identifying as a producer or creator became the individual rather identifying themselves as a consumer. I blame the first Industrial Revolution for this most of all because the change was so massive. It gave power to the wealthy, those that owned methods of production, and gave those with only their ability to provide labor a distinct disadvantage. It also alienated us from one another. Instead of us taking pride in creating something of value and meaning and not to mention with good intentions for others to enjoy... we now justify us exploiting workers - by having them do an immense amount of labor for little pay, as well as by substantially increasing the price of the product for the most profit - as “fair”. This is a very selfish way to think, and it shows. When someone pollutes, that’s selfish. When someone speeds, that’s selfish. When someone bullies, that’s selfish. There is no consideration of the other person or people.

Furthermore, now that the gap between the wealthy and the less wealthy is so large, there is an interest by the wealthy to maintain this power. Education is the one defense we have against the powerful and wealthy imposing their ideals on us. Where we learn needs to be neutral and take into consideration everyone’s feelings and circumstances so that we can then actively discuss solutions to our problems and actively improve the world.

Conclusion

The positive I often hear about the Industrial Revolution is about how beneficial it was to advancing medicine and technology. But I think that people will, even without the selfish desire to have a better quality of life than others, achieve advancing areas of life by taking pride and having a sense of genuine enjoyment in what they do. 

Taking pride in what you do, enjoying what you do and doing it to improve the lives of others, if that was our focus instead, that to me sounds like a Utopian Society.

One more thing I’d like to add is that we at all times need to be open minded and the practice of being open minded, of challenging the way we think and feel, that needs to be encouraged in this Utopian educational system through an open dialogue. In any society, that is necessary to ensure no ruling class or ruling power can either oppress or control others.

[almasidaliano]

Here’s the thing about Religion:

so i'm not religious. i am spiritual. to each's own, whatever you believe in, im simply happy you believe in something.

i grew up christian, i guess. uh baptist, ame, and non denominational. resonated most with non demoninational, even gave sermon when i was 15. and i loved it, truly. church is what threw me for a loop the most in religion, and members of the congregation. it's like hard to want to follow something when followers aren't people you would imagine when you think "Christ-like" you know?

i have always been skeptical about christianity. about religion in general really. so you talk to god and he hears you and he gets back to you with a signal or sign, a blessing or a lesson etc. very seldom people go through these experiences where they have truly heard the voice of God or seen some silohuette or something. its all about faith. and that wasn't the issue. "walk by faith not by sight" right? okay. it was the discrimination. the way people take it upon themselves to condemn others. the amount of sins people commit by simply having a judgemental conversation in a holy building is beyond me. the way the pastors feed off of the congregation. churches should be tax exempt meaning they are getting plenty to sustain their building from the government. why is the congregation dropping money in collection plates?

tides and offerings. paying dues. what about buying food for someone who was hungry? or simply giving some money to someone in need? why is it you go through your week being christ like giving tides and offerings selfishly whole heartedly, just to come to church and twice maybe three times a collection plate goes around while the pastor giving some motivational speech about how he know you got it; knowing you probably don't so to speak.

the most repetitive thing in the bible is not to judge and christians have got to be some of the most judgemental people i have ever known. when it comes to religion so many believers want to passively play god. they want to decide who is worth saving and who is condemned, who is living right, and what they need to be doing with their life. and that is not their job nor their place. you love thy neighbor. it never said unless xyz. no. simply love thy neighbor. it means be kind. love can be passive. it's treating humans like humans and not animals. common decency; which like common sense is less than common.

each religion has like its commandments you know those clear set of rules. i personally never thought these were things that needed to be clarified on the do not do list, however society. when you really break it down though, it is simple. be a good person. don't steal, don't kill. don't commit adultry (being loyal and faithful). etc. there are hundreds of stories in the bible. each open for each individual's interpretation.

if the title of the Creator is God then God is a woman. male and female exist yes i just think there is a little bit left off to the story. if there's a battle of the sexes women are the superior. first, there's father time and mother nature. time is a construct, it does not actually exist. ashes to ashes dust to dust. we all come from the earth.

see how the white man created a male god and sent his male son to save us all. "this is a man's world" (the Devil is a white man. and God is a black woman.) that is true, why? because Earth is the Devil's playground. what is so crazy is that the devil is this symbol of desire and guilty pleasures, rebellion and such and here we have the power to choose. life is about experiences. thinking for yourself doesn't make you a menace, how else do you learn? self knowledge is the best knowledge.

the Nation of Islam, is the prominent black religion. Catholicism and Scientology are the most prominent white religions. Catholicism enables sodomy and pedophilia. Scientology is a tax exempt cult, pretty much controlling the media and lowkey the United States. the Nation partnered with them and have been getting some heat from it, however i think they are trying to take it down. as time has progressed, everyone has gotten smarter. talk about a trojan horse.

Scientology and Catholicism kind of rule the country. all the many branch religions from catholicism just get ranked under that, however those two mainly. Scientology is a full blown brainwashing cult. they are the abusive partner in a domestic violence situation. most religion is. it's like religion or life. religion or family. religion or you know? more division. Scientology is more extreme in the sense that they really have policies and such enforced behind the rules and expectations. However, the same dynamic is kind of true for other religions. people get shunned and become estranged from their families frequently due to religious disagreements. it is truly disheartening because if someone is supposedly lost and you are their loved one, or simply a member of the following, why wouldnt you keep supporting them in the sense of like love companionship an ear to listen. instead, they force people to choose between trusting themselves and trusting their religion.

if your religion makes you question yourself take a look at it. you may be fucking up, you may not. however, blind trust will lead you off a cliff. almost all if not all religions talk about Jesus in one way or the other. there is truth in everything see? the Bible says its blasphemy to read another holy text. i want to find a Bible in the original script before people came with their intentions and made it what they wanted.

let's talk homosexuality for a moment. now i dont know how other religions work, however in christianity, christians love to condemn a homosexual. first thing, WHAT DOES WHO SOMEONE ELSE LOVES HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH ANY OUTSIDER? nothing. nothing at all. it has never been anyone's place to tell someone who they can and cannot love. there are scriptures, however they talk about pedetry and sodomy, rape, and male prostitution. crazy thing, it speaks a lot about males not committing homosexual acts but im pretty sure only comes up once about women and the topic was still men.

here's what i think: like i said god is a woman. so if the stories still hold true, humans were created right? so male and man have prefixes. these are word parts that come before. adding these prefixes creates woman and female. in that, i feel as though women were here first. (probably considering all babies start as females and then whilst developing testes drop or don't.) men cannot carry children, they don't have the nutrients in their bodies, they too have nipples however they don't produce milk. men were created as a tool. like a whole ass donor or carrier. men do not like to be "second in command". they feel like in order to be a man and wear the pants, they must do all the providing while a woman does the nurturing. whereas women are multifaceted and great at multitasking. men are constantly thinking like squirrels trying to get nuts. that's all they are here for lol. women could rule the world.

toats just a random theory: what if eve eating the apple and gaining knowledge was the knowledge of true love. like what if shorty realized she aint love dude they were just made for each other lmao. like men are here for reproduction. and to help when a woman's hand are full. i mean like they are in the garden and shit all happy and shit then shorty eat the apple give it to dude and they like oh no we naked. so they go find bushes and leaves and make some lil clothes or coverings. its the knowledge of good and evil so what if their union was evil lol in the sense of bad. like they get caste out stay together have two sons and one kill the other on some hateful envious shit. men provoke violence and evil. they are so prideful. so its like men love women, because they were made to help repopulate and to some extent protect. that's why men think with their dick heads. maybe that's why homosexuality is a "sin" or they try and press the issue; because of rape and sodomy. also, in effort to keep women unhappy since men were too. like it says man and man shouldn't be together, blatantly. not woman. man. because it was unconsensual, and they are here for reproduction so they kinda wasting product getting off elsewhere if you know get what i am saying. lol its a loose theory just popped in my head. however, it kind of makes sense. this lifetime we learning and experiencing things. at the beginning of the lifetime there was woman and then male was created with the tools needed to procreate. as life progressed, there are now ways for same sex female couples to have children. currently only girls can be born due to the lack of "Y" chromosome, however in due time. it is still presently possible for a child have two birth mothers in the present. that is what life is for, the condension of One Sound Consciousness (basically the big bang except not how they described it.). the condension of the Consciousness means when the Creator decided on this lifetime and created every single thing in it us included in order to experience each and every part of their creation. the Creator knows all, can create all, however has not experienced all; that is what lifetimes are for. the experience. the knowledge gained.

always trust the vibes. energy never lies. your body is a radar. you must protect your peace. meditation is like prayer, except broader. in my opinion you let go of so much weight and you gain so much clarity. do not stop believing. always believe in something. mainly yourself. if nothing else. the things that you eat matter too.  there are religions against eating pork, all slaves had was pig parts and pig's food. personally, i think it strengthened our bodies against more diseases and such like made us immune.

religion is simply something to believe in. spirituality is actuality. energy is undeniable. you can feel vibrations. and if you can't open your third eye because you are sleep and we need to be woke. we are superhuman. we have superpowers. for centuries, we have been under a curse of mental slavery. (sound familiar? this is why our ancestors laid down and took it. this is why my melanated friends still laying down and taking it.

having faith supposed to make you stop being afraid to die. so do yall not actually believe in something? because i get (ish) in general not wanting to die if you can help it. however, what part of the life you living is worth living truly? if you sat down and looked at the cards you were dealt, could you honestly say "nah im good, it could be worse ima ride it out." or some shit? would you truly rather live this life than fight for the life you want, the life you deserve and maybe die in the process? so what if they gone kill you anyway?

you know they out to kill us anyway. this is the land of the free and the home of the brave. you gotta be brave to be free. we caged or running the streets. "Ye though I walk throw the valley of the shadow of death i shall fear no evil-" trust yourself and give it to the universe.

We will prevail. We will prevail. We will prevail.

your God already knows your heart, learn yourself and fight like hell for peace, equality, and harmony.

-Almasi

[pulviatee]

You might find this mind-baffling nor understand the thoughts behind it the reason why I go against my actual existence against my very being why I deny what you call life why I deny this world. Why I will always defy what you call living. What drives my conviction to end everything the fact that I was born as a human the race called human itself the ugly nature of humans we are egocentric creatures our selfishness has no boundaries bitter, envy, jealousy, greed, lust, pride, power, pettiness, entitlement, deceitful, apathy, lack of empathy, self-centered, dishonesty, aggressive, violence, anger, rage and hate. Is all traits that humans possess and will manifest some have emotions under control while some do not how many times have you been disappointed by this? how many times haven't you been unreasonably lashed out at? how many times have you, yourself lost control? knowing it’s wrong knowing this isn’t what I wanna say yet you cannot stop you keep lashing out how many times you thought you knew the person you hold dear and that you really knew the person yet they proved you wrong how many times did you get backstabbed?that is just us being humans and feelings taking over give an inch and they will take a mile we are reasonably yet unreasonable we are pure yet filthy we are kind yet so cruel we are loving yet so heartless we are strong-willed yet lost we are intelligent yet fear what we don’t understand  we always try to seek answers, because we fear the unknown  we feel threatened by the unknown because we do not understand it we are important yet unimportant we want to matter yet in the end we are so insignificant struggle of existence yet so meaningless we are nothing but specks of dust in this universe we are free, yet we are held as hostages what a shit hole we live in we are truly pitiful. still I accept this our world can be beautiful and life can be worth living, it is just how you, yourself choose to live however I just want no part of it i simply wish to ''observe'' and watch from far away i'm an ''observer'' and that is what I want why is it wrong? just because society told you to live and taught you what is ''normal'' that means I also have to selfishly accept that? so it's okay for you to force your ideals into mine yet my ideal and what I see you simply throw out the window? you will only accept your own opinions and only your thinking. Thinking you are way better than me and way more special? or that my thinking/thoughts is wrong? if you truly think this you are the definition of egoism and ignorant you do not accept that there is a different human being with different thoughts we are different we do not have the same ideas nor brain i will never force my ideals into you I accept and respect what you think you have your own reality and I have mine we are all unique and different human beings with different minds you are not me I am not you

[jswdmb1]

Thank You                        (Fallettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

“Mama's so happy Mama start to cry Papa still singin' You can make it if you try”

- Sly & The Family Stone

There has been a lot of discussion in the mainstream media about mental illness recently. It was unfortunately ignited by the mass murder in Las Vegas, which is a pretty rational way for most of us to make sense of such a senseless act.  There also continues to be much speculation about the mental health of our president. The American Psychiatric Association actually forbids members from publicly diagnosing anyone they have not personally examined. That seems obvious, but was not codified until 1964 when some psychiatrists were offering opinions on Republican presidential candidate Barry Goldwater’s possible afflictions. Some think this helped sway the vote towards electing LBJ, so this practice was further banned to prevent unfair characterizations based on remote observation. This is why you are not seeing any formal diagnosis by a psychiatrist of the current commander-in-chief. Until he submits to an examination, you are not going to get one.  Still, his public behavior, much of which is incredibly bizarre by almost any objective measure, has sparked debate and generated interest in learning more about narcissism, bipolar disorder, and even aging related brain diseases as we again try to rationalize behavior that scares the shit out of most of us.

Then, a few weeks ago on SNL, Pete Davidson disclosed on Weekend Update that he suffers from borderline personality disorder, which can cause symptoms of severe depression and anxiety and often leads to at least one suicide attempt if left untreated. There was also an excellent column by Rex Hupple recently in the Chicago Tribune about teen suicide, which is practically an epidemic in our country (it is the second leading cause of death among teens and young adults). All of this attention on mental illness feels quite peculiar as free discussion of the topic and public disclosure of a diagnosis by a celebrity are rare. This is generally due to the stigma our society has placed on people with mental illnesses that curbs the willingness of those who are suffering to get treatment, never mind discuss symptoms and their effects with family and friends. As such an estimated 50 percent of adults with mental illness go untreated. That percentage rises to a shocking 80 percent for those under 18.

This all results in mental illnesses being considered second class citizens when it comes to diseases. If you have a heart condition or cancer, for example, and need help, an array of heath care services are thrown at you by your doctor and insurance company. If you need time off from work most supervisors will tell you to take all of the time you need and a number of benefits will often kick in to help you through financially. Go to your boss, however, and ask for time to be treated for depression and she or he may not be as accommodating. If you do get help, you’ll likely be looking forward to a prolonged battle for coverage of your treatment, which until the last few years was not acknowledged by most insurance plans as a valid benefit.

So how do we change this and why do I care so much? Well, only people with mental illness talking about it openly and frankly will begin any change in perception by the rest of the population. And I care so much because I have suffered with mental illness for over 20 years. Realistically, it goes back much further but mental illness was rarely diagnosed in adults back in the day, never mind in children. Once I did get help, I bounced around for many years among doctors, therapists, and medications often being limited by what insurance would cover. When that provided limited relief, I self-medicated with drugs and alcohol despite their potential for dangerous interaction with my medications and a genetic predisposition to addiction. This is very common for most people with mental illness and leads to a lifetime of “pressing on” regardless of the pain and suffering because all options seem to be exhausted.

As with any disease, this kind of life can be maintained without adequate treatment for only so long before it takes its toll. That happened for me about two months ago. My diagnosis is technically Major Depressive Disorder with Recurrence and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. While technically these are separate diseases, they often work in tandem to intensify the symptoms of each. By mid August, I had sunk into one of my most severe depressive troughs and stopped taking my medications. At the same time, I continued a pattern of heavy drinking that did nothing but numb my symptoms for a very brief amount of time. I was playing with fire and I knew I was in trouble.

Unlike most people with a mental illness, I am incredibly fortunate to have support people close to me who knew what to look for when my condition deteriorated and intervened on my behalf. In a very short period of time, I was hospitalized through an outpatient program. The doctors, nurses, therapists, and social workers there helped me stabilize my medication, which provided some immediate relief, and then worked with me to develop tools and techniques to deal with my symptoms after being released. You learn early on in the program that you are never cured of mental illness; you simply manage it. Once you accept that fact, treatment really can begin.

They also helped me come to terms with my long-term use of alcohol, marijuana, and prescription drugs, which was interfering with the effectiveness of my medications and causing additional health problems. Alcohol, in particular, has a very negative effect on the treatment for depression since it is, well, a depressant.  I have finally accepted that use of these substances contradicts my treatment plan and I need to stop. I have been sober for over a month and it is amazing how much better I feel. The only side effect is that I now satisfy my urges when I get them with a bowl of cereal (Lucky Charms work best) that has added a few extra pounds. I’ll work through that later, but for now sobriety is my main goal.

So why am I telling you all of this? I mean, this is a lot of personal information and I always promised this blog would not be a diary. I am sharing it because I realized the stigmas on mental illness and addiction disorders exist primarily because those who have these diseases are not able or willing to talk. I am finally at the point where I have accepted this as part of who I am and am not embarrassed to say so. Nothing about this changes my ability to live a “normal” life and I want others out there silently and needlessly suffering to know that there is a way out. My only goal here is to let everyone know I no longer feel the stigma and hope that inspires you to help someone you love, or possibly even yourself, to get treatment of what are often very manageable symptoms. If you think you need help, start with your doctor. If you don’t have insurance or run into road blocks on that path, go to nami.org which is the website for The National Alliance On Mental Illness. There you can find a local chapter that provides a number of services often at no cost (the DuPage chapter is a fantastic resource). If you are lucky enough to know someone who has been open about their mental illness and treatment, they can be a very valuable resource as well. The best part of my hospitalization was meeting other people with mental illness and knowing that I was not alone.

I thank you again for letting me be myself and taking the time to read through this post.  I know it’s a bit personal, but I selfishly admit that it feels incredible to be able to tell my story.  In return, I hope that anyone relating to this can feel comfortable to do the same in whatever forum they choose so they can get the help they need.  While mental illnesses are often treatable, they are deadly when left unchecked and if we can prevent one lost life from simply talking about it, then I’ll consider this time well spent.

On a final note, I leave you one bit of advice: take care of yourself.  Not because no one else will do it, but because only you can do it best.  Besides, you deserve it.  Trust me on that.  

Peace,

Jim

[xwingedpoe]

renewed hope.

CASSIAN ANDOR APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 2 - FAVOURITE QUOTE

“Rebellions are built on hope.” He says it, but it’s been a long time since he believed in it.

Rated: PG // Word Count: 2001 // Canon-compliant

Dedicated to @keshianrebel who has been a wonderful sounding board of Cassian-related ideas, many of which have been included in this fic.

Rebellions are built on hope.

He doesn’t remember when he first heard the phrase – if it was uttered by a superior or his parents or something he snatched up from the organized chaos of whichever rebellion base he was on. It seemed to him like it always existed in his mind, ready to call to hand when needed. Every life in the universe appears to count upon it, whichever side they were on. 

Hope for a better tomorrow, hope for survival, or hope for victory.

When he first echoed it, it fell from his tongue in detached fashion. He was eighteen and briefing some new recruits. Many of them had signed up for the cause, and his words stoked a fire and determination in their eyes. He didn’t feel quite the same. 

He knew how it worked. Hope sustains the fight and how leaders within the Rebellion use it to keep up morale through every mind-numbing mission and through every loss they sustained. Where the Empire demanded perfection through drills, theirs was a fight of conviction and loyalty, the need to believe in something better, to fight for others beyond yourself. It needed loyal soldiers to run into the front lines and keep it alive, it needed brazen pilots to snatch aerial victories, and it required intelligence officers to gather information–the lifeblood of war.

Hope.

He tried to remember how it felt when he was younger and filled with abundant zeal, but it’s since been weathered, dragged out of him through the trudge of the years. And so he compressed it, stuffed it all down into a small space within him, and he left it there, forgotten, unsullied by his bloodied fingers. He left the inspirational speeches to his commanding officers, and guided himself with purpose rather than belief. 

You couldn’t do what he did and still keep it alive.

The second time he said it, he’s weaving through a war zone with a young asset at his side; their reason for gaining an audience with Saw’s people.

“Hope?” her tone held thinly veiled skepticism and condescension, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Rebellions are built on hope.” He said it more to convince her than anything else, though he sensed that hope had been ground out of her as well. Unlike him, she’s marooned without anyone else to guard it for her.  Jedha was not the best place to exhibit that, not when the imperial occupation had ravaged the temples and kept its people within its iron grip. But still, inexorably, though bruised and battered, it found its way to survive. Survive, yes, but hope? He doesn’t know if it exists here anymore.

In a better world, he might have saved them from what happened next.

They had the information they need, or at least, Jyn claimed they do, breathlessly echoing the words of her father. We have to destroy it. His heart echoed the same sentiment in the cavern of his chest, the destruction of Jedha having caved it in and seared an image of a destruction upon his retinas that he’ll remember for years to come. Then his gaze flicked to the defector and the two Guardians, and he realized that his pain was a mere scratch compared to theirs.

They should have gone back to base and start planning the next move and get the plans off Scarif. The weapon was active, without a shred of doubt. What was one Imperial scientist going to do about it? Killing him now didn’t make the weapon any less of a reality. That was assuming he could trust Jyn Erso and what she saw, and what he saw on Jedha was someone hollowed out and empty, broken by what she saw. But she was the only one who’d seen it, and it wasn’t enough, despite how much he wanted to believe her. They needed proof.

The instruction was clear. Continue mission as advised.

A single heartbeat spanned the time between him receiving the message and sending out an acknowledgment.

As his fingers rested numbly on the communications console, gathering his thoughts, he hears the murmurs of conversation continue. The pilot, the one they’d pulled off Jedha, hadn’t stopped moving once, his fingers twitching to his goggles, pulling them on and off, and his leg tapped incessantly. Where Cassian was a maelstrom that churned beneath a calm lake, the pilot’s anxieties were painted clear as day.

A brief pause, then Cassian heard a singular phrase: He told me I could make it right if I listened to what was in my heart.

His head darted up, the first visible reaction he’s made since he sent his reply. This man, this cargo pilot, had defected on a promise that might have never come to fruition. What would’ve happened to him they hadn’t gone out looking for him? He doubted Saw would have set him free. Defector or not, the patch on his shoulder made him a marked man. Bodhi went out on a belief, and if Cassian truly thought about it, he went out with hope – to make things right, to make them better. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath, releasing his right fingers from their tight-fisted grip of his left fist.

He turned away from the scene, moving back into the pilot seat.

They crash land on Eadu, and he’s annoyed, wet and cold, all of which has made him decidedly irritable. He has to curtly instruct them to do them on how to go about the mission. But overall, his principal mission clings, heavy and sodden, to his shoulders, feeding a quiet frustration.

After grabbing the pilot, and they dart out into the storm, trudging up towards the ridge. Despite his best efforts, he’d been warming up to this man. Bodhi was a wreck, by all accounts, till Cassian noticed the marks on his neck and the tremors in his legs, and suddenly it all clicked into place – the way he had to be gently cajoled back on Jedha, the constant fumbling and stilted words. Cassian found himself with the surprising notion of wanting to comfort him, which made what happened next felt like pulling teeth.

“I thought you said we were just taking a look!” The pilot bit out, and Cassian looked away from the flicker of understanding that was dawning behind Bodhi’s eyes and returned to surveying the base through the quadnocs.

“I am. Now go!” His voice was steel – a commander’s voice – and eventually, Bodhi ran off without another word. The silent rebuke roused the tiniest flicker of annoyance; first, that it came from an Imperial defector, and second, towards himself. He shoved it down once more and set up his rifle to point towards the base.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t end Galen Erso’s life. Doing the right thing. He’d defied an instruction from his superior officers, those with the good intentions and the plans to defeat the war, and he’d rebelled against all of them in one fell swoop. His weapon is abandoned to the side as the cold and pain traveled down his spine and numbed his fingers. Despite the nature of the name, the Rebellion relied on a military organization to win the war. If all the different factions that minds of their own and went off on some harebrained fight against the Empire, they would’ve gotten nowhere. He trusted his superior officers to see the bigger picture where he could not, and defying them felt like taking a soaring leap over one of these cliffs into the steep valley below.

Cassian wanted to yell and kick at the rocks in frustration, maybe work it out of his system before getting back to it, but he just couldn’t pull the trigger. He’d take the punishment back on base, but he wasn’t going to do it. This time, he trusted his instincts and information, and none of it warranted an assassination.

But the cruel hand of fate intervened as Galen Erso meets his death under the hands of the Rebellion regardless.

What he did on Eadu was a weak defiance, and he wished it weren’t so, but it has set him on a different path. The Rebellion remained his lifeblood, but he now carried its spirit and not the political debate that drags it down. He hasn’t seen the message himself and is unable to attest to any of its truths, and the council has too many differing opinions, too many factions looking out for their self-interests and fear of a grand war. He wanted to tell them war is here, whether they like it or not, but politics is a painful cycle. He understood its necessity but if they wait any longer, the Empire will strike again with this weapon, and he’s not sure the Rebellion will sustain that blow.

They have to do this, and they have to do it now. Moving around the base, Cassian talked to Tonc and Melshi and the others. More importantly, he asked but never instructed. It’s a mission with as high a risk as they’ve ever seen (as K2 so kindly pointed out) and he understands if they choose to stay behind.

Harder still, he has to prevent a still-recovering Kes Dameron away from the shuttle with Cassian’s hand gripping his arm tight, his eyes begging where his words failed him. His injured shoulder meant he wouldn’t be performing his best, but selfishly, Cassian knew that this is a mission they might not be coming back from, and the thought that he might lose his best friend, that Shara might lose him, has him begging. Stay, he told him.

“Promise you’ll make it back.” Kes frowned, staring over Cassian’s shoulder at the shuttle, the pack hanging limply between his fingers.

Cassian hesitated, attempting to keep his voice steady, but he can’t bring himself to smile or be reassuring, anything to ease Kes’s worries. “I’ll try.”

Kes was the last face he saw on Yavin IV as the shuttle ramp rose.

Scarif was hard and fast and bloody, the odds stacked against them way before they ever began. Cassian puts faith not only in the troops he’s known most of his life but with this ragtag team they’ve put together - Rogue One. None of them were truly friends as much as they were set on this course with no idea whether they would succeed. Still, he counted on them to get it done and to get the plans out. Trusting them to do it.

And as the comms crackle and fall silent, he feared the worst. They weren’t getting off this planet, no matter how hard they tried, the least they could do was get those damn plans out. He held that thought like a prayer as he climbed the infernal tower to get to the top, and until he watched Jyn transmit the plans to the fleet above.

As he collapsed on the beach with the waves lapping the shore and pain radiating up his side, he doesn’t know if they’ve succeeded or if the Rebellion will take what they’ve gained and use it to destroy the Death Star. He would never see Kes again, or any of the kids him and Shara will inevitably have someday. He would also never see a life beyond this fight, not that he had sought one for years. There’s no fear, not when the cage within him has shattered, filling his being with comfort and promise. 

He doesn’t know what will happen beyond this shores, but still ––– a soft laugh escaped him, snatched away by the breeze even as the light burned bright.

Still, he found himself hoping.

[kmanashiro]

Human, All Too Human #2 Possession

Human, All Too Human

#2 - Possession

Possession: Permanence, Transience, Time Grasp

Part 2/??

**Original Article Posted: http://aminoapps.com/page/doctor-who/3234339/human-all-too-human-2-possession **

**After writing this article, I noticed I discuss lots of general info and tangents. If you don’t mind, keep on reading, there are still Doctor analyses throughout. Feel free to comment!**

Continuing the ‘Human, All Too Human’ analysis series, today we’re going to be discussing the Doctor’s tendency to possess. The Doctor possesses quite a few things, regardless whether or not they are permanently his.

“Permanent” (in quotes, cause these are canon for now)

·         His own body/mind (allowing for regeneration);

·         TARDIS spaceship;

·         Sonic screwdrivers;

·         Companions

Transient

·         Current body vessel and personality;

·         Time, universe, planets, civilizations/species; (Ohoho, curious aren’t you?)

·         Specific companions (*ugly cries*)

The “permanent” list is hard to debate, I personally believe. The Doctor has always possessed his own body/mind in the sense that no one has completely overtaken him thus far. Only regeneration has transformed him, but even Steven Moffat and others have echoed that the Doctor never really sees himself as the “5th Doctor” or “10th Doctor”. He’s been the same man he’s always was. I have not really grasped if the original Doctor Who crew conceptualized that post-regeneration the Doctor’s new body would encompass a new personality. Personally, I adored Bill Hartnell’s rendition of the 1st Doctor (but that’s cause I have a soft spot for grumpy ol’ people). Regardless, the reality is that his being of the Doctor and his vast knowledge/experiences has always carried on through.

Materialistic things like the TARDIS and sonic screwdrivers have also been with the Doctor. Unless in the future the showrunner decides to change it up somehow, it’s pretty steady, Betty. There’s a funny running joke about the broken chameleon circuit and how his screwdriver isn’t exactly a weapon. I mean the man travels the universe and keeps the screwdriver? Lastly, companions! Whether it be for good TV scripting or ratings (come on, we know pretty misses boost ‘em up), the Doctor is never without a fellow. There are companion-lite episodes but the Doctor bounces back and finds someone new who re-vitalizes him and motivates him to carry on. It’s the beauty of such a human trait—YANA.

Although these are his permanent possessions, there has not been much emotional TV time showing his possessiveness of such things. (The TARDIS wife thing was weird. Let’s just all agree on that.) It’s the same notion for human beings. Things that we have acquired safely and securely, we take them for granted. We take for granted our snug homes, family and friends, a comfy bed, transportation, etc. Only when these things are threatened, we are immediately shaken and awakened to our senses and urgency to protect. The same with the Doc. When these particular things are threatened, the Doctor explodes in one fell swoop, leaving us fearful. These reactions however are by far few in numbers.

Transient items—Aforementioned, the Doctor does regenerate and with the 12th Doctor, he has been granted a new regeneration cycle. We have to wait and see how that pans out in the future. Cheers to another 50 years! He quickly bounces back from his regeneration though and carries onward with his adventures. His personality also can change drastically. Guilty of watching NewWho, I can only mention the 10th to 11th and 11th to 12th transitions. Oh boy, they are drastically different. Humorously, we see the Doctor adjust rather quickly. It’s not like he’s stuck in some existential identity crisis. However his companions get upset and cope rather slowly (in terms of TV time). Rose and Clara both were visibly distraught of the overall change of appearance and personality of the new Doctor. It’s light-hearted TV that they come around the block and eventually trust the new Doctor asap. However, I think that’s a juvenile notion. No one knows what the new Doctor is capable of (not even himself, I’m guessing). And when 12th asks if he is a good man, we should be weary of how the regenerations ultimately affect the Doctor emotionally and mentally. Seems an interesting topic, but I digress.

Time, universe, planets, civilizations/species. Yes as the almighty rogue Time Lord, the Doctor travels the universe with a smug smile and beaming sunshine personality as he lands on a new place. The Doctor has said explicitly that he is the one who controls time during his fit of rage. We see his footprint on every planet and species he encounters. If you’ve watched “Smile” recently (Series 10, Episode 2), you’d know what I mean. He definitely left his mark there. And was that ending supposed to really happen? Would it have panned out differently if the Doctor did not visit? Who knows. No one knows. Or did the Doctor already know? #Mindception

But funny thing is, would time really exist without universe, planets, and civilizations/species? I recently read an article (forgive me for forgetting, if you know which article I am referring to, please comment below) that discussed time can be seen in 2 aspects: (1) time cycle and (2) time arrow. Just as the name says, time cycle is seeing time as one big circular event (sort of what 10th was trying to explain in Blink). People who view time as a cycle do not view time linearly with a past, present, and future but more like a cyclical process of events. Like studying the different seasons or different patterns of historical wars/civilization. Past humans have viewed time as a cycle before as it helps them cope with uncontrollable catastrophes and events. They can pray and wait for the bad times to ride over. Time as an arrow is the typical linear fashion of viewing past, present, and future. This is a more recent phenomenon created by the emergence of calendars and reinforced by our teaching of history. However for the Doctor, he receives the knowledge and wisdom of time all at once. It seems like his view of time is cyclic and he owns this. However if there was nothing left (what if the Daleks succeeded?), time arrow would not work and even time cycle would not work either. Because the time cycle is counting on a recurrence of pattern, some specific interaction needs to occur for that specific moment to be cyclized. This reminds me of the ending of the anime, Mirai Nikki (Future Diary).

Specific companions. Okay get your tissues out. We all know how much the Doctor loves his companions, even when he acts aloof. I choose to believe that the Doctor remembers every single one of his companions (watch The Pilot Series 10, Episode 1). And depending on the Doctor and specific companion, their departure leaves quite an impression on the poor Doc. Prior to NewWho, there was not much romance between the Doctor and companions. I think that new TV scripting has really jumped the gun on that. Perhaps too much shipping fandom too quickly?

The Doctor is highly protective of permanent and transient possessions. Aforementioned if the permanent things were threatened, he would explode in a fierce rage of unmatched parallel. However the transient things that he loses constantly wears him down and jades the poor Doc. His reaction to losing transient possessions may seem emotional (TV scripting, guys), but he always bounces back. Like how 10th was angry at the Prime Minister and Meta-Crisis Doctor for destroying whole species of Sycorax and Daleks respectively, but he doesn’t do anything further about it. And he learns a valuable lesson of trying to control time and humans in ‘Water of Mars’ when the ending just does not quite go his way. The Doctor is usually a few steps ahead in this game of chess, but if he missteps or loses a battle, he either moves on or tries to win the war. We see more frequently the former.

So you’re asking Miss S, what’s the point of this all? Why are you drafting this at midnight?...Well faithful reader, I believe that the Doctor is highly possessive (duh) but there are two categories to this. I do believe the permanent list is more important to him than the transient list, due to his varying reactions between the two. Perhaps I’ll use more specific examples in the future, but this just a proper introduction. Anyway, he’d try to do everything in his power to save himself and the TARDIS, but if species are destroyed or people die, it’s like…well shucks. I am not disregarding the fact that he tries to save the transient things, but his attempts seem moreso meager. Perhaps this is his way of not ��meddling’ ironically and being able to move on selfishly albeit with the heaviest burden of all.

As selfless as the Doctor is, he is just as selfish.

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Holy cow you’re still reading? Go home. You’re drunk J/K Thanks for reading. Allons-y!

[hannahmhancock]

Thoughts of an eco-friendly Jesus follower

You may have noticed over the last year that I frequently post things about how to be eco-friendly. I try my best to shy away from sharing political, scary, or pessimistic pieces. At times, I find it valuable to share reality of situations so those who don't know might actually see what is going on in the world around us.

Before I dive in, I want to say a few things: there are MANY rabbit holes I can go down here. I will do my best to stick to the point, but I may add in snip-its so you can truly understand where I am coming from. I am not choosing a political side here. Period. While yes, I notice one party favors policies to protect the environment over others, I am in no way choosing sides. I think that is irrelevant to my thoughts in this particular piece, and I do not believe division is a part of the solution.

So let me get down to it.

I've had many conversations over the last year, with people I would identify as followers of Jesus and those who are not. Among the conversations I've had with my fellow believers I often get asked: why do I care? Does being eco-friendly truly matter? Doesn't it shy away from the Great Commission? To answer, I believe yes, being good stewards of what we've been given matters. No, I don't believe it takes away from the Great Commission. I'm not sitting here writing this piece to argue whether or not climate change (or climate emergency) exists. That's your own prerogative. What I am saying is yes, we should care about taking care of our planet, ESPECIALLY as followers of Christ.  

Why? For many reasons.

First, the Bible talks about being good stewards - in all things.

Genesis 2:15 - The Lord took man and placed him in the garden of Eden to work it and watch over it.

This is our home, where we live, eat, sleep, and breathe. In the same way you take care of your house, your car, or your pet, we should do the same for earth.

Second, I think being good stewards of the earth doesn't go against the Great Commission, but rather coexists with it. Think about it this way: people are dying, losing their homes, or losing access to food and water from earthly changes. As people who are fully capable to help, we have a great opportunity to love others through our actions. By providing shelter, food, water, home restoration, etc. to those affected by these disasters, we have an opportunity to love and act the way Jesus does. We then will have more opportunities to share the gospel. 

Finally, apathy is not a solution, but in my opinion, selfish. Believers, myself included, often step away when our nation or world engages in debate - particularly over controversial topics. By refusing to acknowledge that there is a problem or even taking action, we selfishly fail to believe or recognize that our help and action is needed. I love this quote by Desmond Tutu, "If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor." This is deep. This stings. Yes, this might be "political", but I think there is such deep truth here - especially for believers.

We aren't here to be people pleasers, to make everyone happy, but rather to share truth and follow Jesus. I also want to point out that believers aren't always going to see eye to eye - hence why there are different denominations, why people have theological discussions, etc.  As long as we believe the Word to be true, follow Him, and spread His name, then we are aligned with His will. The Bible warns us against being lukewarm. Not to encourage divisive debates on Facebook, but rather to challenge you to pray about the issues we face today, let God open your heart and speak truth, taking action that is honoring to Him.

Before I wrap up, I want to address a few possible opposing, but valid thoughts: 

Seeking positive change and habits to better serve our home can easily be portrayed as not trusting the Lord that He is in control and that He will provide. In some ways, I wholeheartedly agree. The Lord has NEVER not provided for me, and He IS in control. Always. It is also easy to look at a situation like climate change and the natural disasters occurring around us and be scared or worried about what will happen. I'm not writing this from a place of fear, but rather a place of why we should care and why we should help.

Additionally, the Word discusses how natural disasters (among other things) will occur as a sign of His return. (Matthew 24:7). I'm not encouraging being good stewards of what we've been given to attempt to control, delay, or ignore what the Bible says about these occurrences. Maybe what's going on in our world today is a sign, maybe it isn't. We truly don't know - and that's a good thing. 

I've spent a lot of time in prayer about this, what scripture says about stewardship, how this applies to taking care of our home, and why I should care. Personally, I see people in need from these changes, and how I am capable of taking steps - small and large - to do something about it. I've realized that while yes, prayer is imperative, sometimes we're called to act. Whether it's being a good steward of my resources at home - recycling, reusing, reducing, or donating my time or money to those affected by these disasters, I encourage you to do the same. Take some time and pray about it. Allow the Lord to guide your heart on how you should look at living eco-friendly. While yes He has given us freedom, we cannot be selfish.

I'll end with this: what if you were the one who lost their home, a loved one, or access to food and water due to these changes? What would you want those who are capable to do to help?

[rvder-cle-blog]

I walk on eggshells for no body. I never fucking have, and I should never fucking be made to feel as if I should. The fact that I am blunt, outspoken, and sometimes even quite brash are part of who I am; product of years spent under the thumb of someone who made it their teenaged goal to control, influence and manipulate my emotions and actions to fit their mold and be their flavor of the week with no regard to my own needs, and I have made every viable stride in the direction to never allow that to happen in my life again, and this season of my life should be of no fucking exception. I am not a perfect man. I am not a perfect person, and I am no more important under the sun than anyone else, but I am also no less important than anyone else, and my sense of value and self-respect should never be made to be shadowed or depreciated by anyone or anything, nor should anyone else’s. Simply because I am a man, that I have a penis and that I act and think like a man, should never be fodder for anyone’s mental construct of value or the lack thereof. My gender does not invalidate my feelings, time or opinions. My health status does not define my value. My mental afflictions are not things that I expect anyone to pacify or baby, nor should anyone else’s, yet we seem to do this so selfishly, and the ideal of romanticizing and pacifying each other’s afflictions of the mind and spirit are destroying us as a communicative and sentient species.

I am sometimes passive aggressive in nature. More often than not, it’s simply because sometimes it easier to allow myself to take on the irrational brunt of emotional distress than to have to inevitably cause others pain or discomfort in the wake of their own actions. Such as the ways of people who are overly empathetic. There is a fine line between an empath and a narcissist, and not many people are ever made aware of its existence as they foolishly toe that line, often choosing to execute plays and calls on both sides of this line until it’s too late, thus silently defining that which we all should fear greatly.

My time is of great value to me, and it always has been. Now more so than ever. It’s funny how it seems like we only really learn to live and breathe once we have been made aware of the overwhelming ticking of our own clock. I will fully admit to the fact that I have been in places in my life where I have disrespected, alienated and disregarded the ever fleeting commodity that we know as time of others and I own that. I. OWN. THAT. And I have come to a place in my life now, where I make conscious strides and efforts to make sure that the time of others is as fully respected and regarded in the same manner of which I treat my own, because when it comes to time, I know that I have been both the abuser and the abused and it’s not a very fun position to be in. But such are the seeds of maturity that have been planted, and much like the trees that grow from saplings, as is my maturity with every season and every situation that I have weathered.

I value the time, feelings, fears and hopes of others, especially those whom I consider my friends, and closest of friends. I have made the, at times; painful decision to divert paths with people who cannot arrive at the same conclusion of simple mutual respect, and I have no qualms or fears of having to ever invoke this right again, to live happily, to exist freely, in an effort to claim a victory in an ever persistent war known as anxiety. But never have I allowed the anxiety that I struggle with to make any kind of ultimate or final definition of my character. You will never hear me claim anxiety as my own, because that which you claim, then so shall you be. That’s especially difficult when we live in the times of self-medicating, inactive therapeutic mental deconstruct, or more simply put; the age of the benzodiazepine. Look around you. Many of our friends glorify their mental illnesses, made evident in their lack of regard to ever actually treat them. Instead many of us choose to just accept it as an uncontrollable variable and simply hope that others will do the same of us, not realizing that it causes us more grief, damage and loss than we had signed up for. And even then, we still do NOTHING. Sounds more like the clinical and contextual definition of insanity than treatment to me, and so should it to the rest of you. But for as long as we mindlessly browse, reblog, idolize and idealize our society’s irrefutable clinging to this notion of self-destruction, we probably never will grow enough to conquer our demons as a whole. How many friendships, associations, relationships, and basic meaningful connections with others will we allow ourselves to destroy whilst wielding the double edged sword of anxiety before we finally fucking realize and accept that enough is enough? At what point do we take stock in the fact that the shit is hard enough to live with on our own as it is, that we realize how misanthropic and cruel it is to project it into the lives of those we love and care for?

My way of thinking, and views on this matter are NOT TO BE MISTAKEN for a lack of understanding or empathy for anyone else dealing with anxiety, depression or any form of mental affliction. Anyone who TRULY fucking knows me, should also know that I will venture into someone else’s depths to show them the light of love and compassion, bright enough to make every attempt to cast out such a darkness, at least for long enough so that they can see that this DOES. NOT. DEFINE. THEM. Empathy and pacification are not interchangeable terms or similar actions of endearment and should never be confused as such. Simply because I choose to empathize with someone and their struggles does not present itself as the equivalent to me having to baby the self fabrication of needs made evident by the presence of anxiety. What fucking good does that do anyone? What good does a 3&1/2” fabric bandage do for a wound that requires stitches and prompt medical attention? Absolutely fucking nothing. The wound will still bleed out. The same goes for anxiety, depression, sleeplessness, or any form of mental disorder. I am not heartless, but I am practical in my approach to the needs and attention of other people. It’s proven itself productive and useful, and at times even powerful in its therapeutic nature. But never will you find even the slightest hint of pacification in my nature.

Some may call me heartless, Call me misanthropic. Call me narcissistic, altruistic, or Tell me that my nature and means of dealing with others is wrong and lacking in sympathy or empathy. Whatever you choose to call me, is fine. All that these claims show me is that instead of taking stock and mental note of my true demeanor and actions, you’ve only chosen to highlight my flaws. Just be prepared, for when you do? Instead of finding my face to scream these things into, you will find nothing but a mirror.