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#wisdom for citizens
poligraf · 7 months
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Responsibility does not only lie with the leaders of our countries or with those who have been appointed or elected to do a particular job. It lies with each one of us individually.
— Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama
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Age is wisdom if one has lived one’s life properly. Happy Senior Citizens Day.
#seniorcitizens #WorldSeniorCitizensDay
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wyvernne · 1 year
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i wish we were in the cooler timeline where baizhu was the dendro archon
i was waiting for changsheng to be the dendro archon or sm 😭
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hairenya · 1 year
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Normally I use a be good stay evil coin to make decisions but I’m not sure which is the good and evil choice here so I’m reaching out to y’all. As of this moment Tumblr doesn’t support polls but fuck it:
❤️ Like if I should go to work tomorrow
♻️ Reblog if I should stay home
Context/Pros and Cons:
Reasons to Work: I could see my crush, it would piss off one of my friends who I’m arguing with at the moment, I’m bored, I want to socialize, there won’t be any children, we will probably get out early, I COULD SEE MY CRUSH, I started crying because I was lonely last night, I’m trying to procrastinate cleaning my house by going to work instead, I might get to meet people’s families, being around my dad is getting on my nerves
Reasons to Stay Home: I already put in for the day off, everyone’s mad at me because I’m emotionally volatile and kinda a bitch about it and have no desire to change that, pretty sure my crush finds me annoying and also he’s married, I already told people I won’t be there, all the work I’m doing would be getting ahead there’s nothing pressing I actually have to do, I need to clean my house at some point in the next two weeks, I’m bad at socializing
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rickgroves · 9 months
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Dual Citizenship
This month we celebrate with fireworks, parades, and barbeques the 2nd Continental Congress’s ratification of the Declaration of Independence that would lead to the formation of the United States of America, arguably still the best country on Earth. While evidence supporting that position is admittedly waning, it does not change one fact: we are dual citizens of both America and Heaven. But which…
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shobanarayan · 10 months
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The second innings according to movies and literature
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nascentwaves · 1 year
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Journey to the Deep Roots and give Fia what she wants, or...enter the crater made by the meteor that Radahn was holding back (again) and work with Ranni this time.
Decisions, decisions. The Lands Between isn't meeting an imminent heat death any sooner or later either way.
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vikramkarve · 2 years
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Better to be old and think young rather than be young and think old. ___________ #wisdom #saying #vikram #karve #vikramkarve #veteran #writer #blogger #life #coach #influencer #trainer #counsellor #mentor #parent #senior #citizen #health #happiness #philosophy #Pune (at Pune, Maharashtra) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeaRHTJvTVu/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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anthonycooray · 2 years
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DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #10
(#) = Notes at end of post
TW: mentions of human experimentation and blood
The Sapphire Stone Sits Highest on the Throne
The GIW have done the unthinkable. They've captured Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and ruler of all who reside within it. The government organization tortured and experimented on Danny so much and for so long that Danny was forced to recede into his core. While a ghost's core is relatively strong by itself --only another ghost of similar strength could shatter it-- it's also extremely vulnerable to misuse if left in the wrong hands.
The GIW use the King's core to ravage Amity Park --uncaring if human citizens got in their way-- as well as the Ghost Zone itself. The Ancients combine their efforts to search for the lost, little king, desperately trying to find Danny's core and take it back from the blood and ectoplasm stained hands of the agents. As a result of their dogged search, the Ancients bring worldwide destruction down upon the Earth in their hunt for every single white suit agent remaining, scurrying from one hiding place to another like rats in the walls of a dilapidated house.
One by one, almost every agent was hunted down and bound in unbreakable chains of ice, awaiting their trials for the atrocities they committed against the Infinite Realms and its King. The only one left is the leader of the organization itself, the one who holds Danny's core. The leader, however, is extremely slippery and has managed to evade capture for months now, going so far as to throw their own men to the wolves if it meant an easy escape with the jewel-blue heart of a scared, grieving, and injured child.
At this point though, the Ancients have caused so much destruction and natural disasters, that the Justice League has no choice but to step in. At first, the JL actively try to fight the Ancients, not fully understanding the situation but having little luck in actually hitting any of them regardless. It isn't until John Constantine runs onto the battlefield like a bat out of hell and skids to a stop right smack dab in the middle of the fight that things change. He's out of breath, his hair is in disarray, he smells heavily of smoke and alcohol, and that's definitely a still fresh coffee stain on his weather beaten trenchcoat along with red blood painting his knuckles.
Normally, one small human wouldn't be able to stop the wrath of the Ancients when they've set their sights on something. This instance, however, was very different. As Constantine raised his hands up towards the rampaging Ancients about to unleash their fury on the JL, one thing managed to capture every single one of their attention.
That being the weakly glowing, sapphire-like core held in one of Constantine's outstretched hands(1 & 2) and the faint, echoing cries of a child begging the Ancients to put an end to the carnage they've unleashed upon the world.
Notes:
(1) Constantine gives little explanation on how he got his hands on Danny's core. Little do the JL know, it was just pure, dumb luck. He ran into the leader of the GIW right as the bastard was leaving a coffee shop. Coffee got spilled all over Constantine and, being slightly drunk off his ass, he decides to deck the person in the pretentious white suit and knocks him out in one shot. Constantine's about to walk away when he hears a child crying. He finds Danny's core in one of the downed guy's pockets and has a panic attack when he immediately realizes what it is. Danny explains what's going on and Constantine books it towards where he can sense a large amount of necrotic energy gathering. The rest is history.
(2) ALSO, sapphire is a pretty significant gem. According to the internet, the sapphire symbolizes wisdom, royalty, prophecy and divine favour. It's a symbol of power and strength, but also of kindness and wise judgement. Which just fits Danny PERFECTLY in this prompt, imo.
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pocarinapyon · 9 months
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🌶️🌶️ Imagine being a citizen from another nation who wanted a change of environment. In hopes of starting a new life, you and your lover decided to migrate to Sumeru, the nation of wisdom. Upon arriving, you and your lover received your Akashas, rented a humble cozy house to call your own, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Unfortunately, a certain scribe caught your attention.
Alhaitham immediately became interested in pretty little you. You were such a gorgeous distraction. It was funny how your delicious body and attractive smile clouded his thoughts, and just thinking about you gets him so riled up. He wanted to ravish you; he wanted to make you cream all over him; he wanted to press your face down on the mattress and fill your hole with his hard veiny cock until you're begging him to go easy on you.
Too bad you already have a lover.
No worries. He could tinker your senses using the Akasha so the next time you see him, you would think he is your lover and you yourself would ask him to fuck you. All he had to do was to enter your house and let the rest come into place. Thinking he is your lover, you would greet him lovingly and invite him for sex in the evening.
Oh, it'll be fun pretending to be your lover. And he won't have to worry about you reporting to the Matra. After all, he already took care of everything. Besides, you now see him as your lover, right?
Alhaitham has you wrapped around his fingers and you don't even know it.
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year
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Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast (Yandere!Wanderer & Pantalone/Reader)
Commissioned by: @leftdestiny-posts/@eternally-frozen (ilysm. Feel free to kill me later lmao)
unreliable synopsis: After being reassigned to Vanarana when your previous coworker became the Acting Grand Sage, with the help of Ararycan, you reunited met a wanderer on an abandoned machine. Unfortunately for someone, your childhood friend "Pantalone" has ears and eyes everywhere. (Avoid this fic if you’re not a fan of dark content. It’s not too dark but your mental health matters!) 
IMPORTANT NOTE: Please use the InteractiveFics extension and change “(Y/n)” to whatever name you want, “[Wanderer]” to his chosen name, and lastly, also change “(wood/salt)” to… whichever option you feel like. It’s a surprise mechanic *wink*. If you're reading this on a phone, just pick between wood or salt right now, keep your choice in mind and commit to it : )
Afterwards, would you be so kind as to answer this fun poll after reading the fic? Danke ♡
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“Why doesn't Nara (Y/n) eat what Arasaka prepares for them? Does Nara (Y/n) lack appetite lately?”
“O-Oh, well, that’s…” You paused, looking down at the broth, “in all honesty, your cooking tastes bland…”
“H-Huh?!”
Time had passed since Lesser Lord Kusanali's official ascent to power and now is the fifth month since you first made friends with the Aranaras. Many events took place before you found your pyro vision becoming Arasaka's torch as they cooked– and if any of your coworkers saw you now, they probably wouldn’t identify you as Alhaitham’s (only) friend and Ex-Sage Azar’s lazy employee.
Maybe they would've if you helped Alhaitham and his teammates secure Sumeru’s future.
Sure, your name isn’t listed in the coup d’etat, but that’s only because you wished for the Akademiyan scholars to make the epiphany for themselves. As Azar’s ex-assistant, you laid low from projects as a prerequisite so that the populace may acquire a personality of their own to make the nation truly deserving of the title “Land of Wisdom.” 
Alas, that did not happen.
Alhaitham’s tactics were not wrong, but you felt like his group spoonfed Sumeru citizens with the Fatui’s crimes rather than having their own realizations. It did not feel like growth to you. It felt like the people casually learned from a one-sitting textbook rather than a hands-on experiment when they should’ve personally learned how minacious blind ambitions could be. In turn, he argued that your ideas were barbaric and that scholars revolting was not in the realm of possibility– hence, you did not lend your aid. Perhaps your inaction had pissed him off, but it’s more likely that he finds that sending you to Varanara was ideal for his workload. 
And in some strange domino effect, refraining from helping a coup d’etat meant eating the tasteless food known to man.
Since you were personally assigned a senseless task to patrol and report weather patterns in the area (which is unnecessary and quite frankly boring), you had befriended the infamous aranaras children from Port Ormos hear stories about. 
But the mundanity doesn’t hurt your pride as a graduate scholar. It's been fun so far.
“I'm sorry, 'Saka, it's just that I think your food lacks a bit of salt–"
"ASSISTANT (Y/N), THERE YOU ARE!!!"
Both of you flinched, causing Arasaka to topple over. The sound hurts. You snapped your neck towards the sound. An adventurer– Baharak– stood with both hands wrapped on her bag's shoulder straps with a silly grin on her face.  
… You’re turning the setting of your hearing aids down.
“Baharak, it’s been a while,” you spoke. “Would you mind not yelling whenever you call for me?”
“Oops– Sorry (Y/n)! I mean– sorry, Assistant (Y/n).”
Changing her volume doesn’t undo the pain she inflicted on your ears. Gently, you pushed Arasaka behind an elevated jag of root to cover them. To escape suspicion, you continued to stare at Baharak while feigning sleepiness.
“What are you here for?”
“The Forest Watcher received a letter addressed to you. The sender doesn’t have a name again, it just has the coin-seal thing.”
“Please hand it over.”
“Aight!– I mean, alright.”
After dismissing the loud adventurer and giving her spare mora as thanks, you waited until she was out of sight. Arasaka suddenly rose and jumped onto your lap, equally curious about what was written on the salt-scented parchment. Arasaka's preppy manner soon turned sour as they discovered who the sender was.
It’s a letter from your best friend, "Pantalone".
“Aww…” Arasaka whined. “Arasaka was hoping it was the Verdant Nara instead.”
You tore it open.
 
"My dearest, (Y/n),
If it's not too much to ask, may I trouble you to visit my office in Northland Bank soon? I merely wish to see you. Spending Lantern Rite alone this year was not a pleasant experience. It's just for a mere chat- I'll reimburse your traveling and dining expenses. Care to make it up to me?
Your beloved,
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As per tradition, you threw the letter in the fireplace. Pantalone doesn’t like leaving a trail of evidence, naturally, you assumed the same applies here.
It's never a chore to visit a friend. Maybe you'll head there tomorrow–
“Arasaka doesn’t like Nara Pantalone.”
The aranara lowered their head, continuing, “Nara Pantalone reminds Arasaka of the Taste of Sadness.”
Cute. 
Every time Pantalone comes to visit, the aranaras behave like envious little siblings. Ever since you started patrolling Vanarana, the place had become the harbinger’s premiere leisure destination. The woods critters frequently tried to undermine his gifts, but they were adorably ineffective. Even if Pantalone cannot see them, the situation is nonetheless amusing.
If you remember correctly, the Taste of Sadness means salt to aranaras, right?
“Ah, well,” you laughed. “I guess you must be incredibly sensitive to his smell. He took quite a liking to salt-infused perfumes last year.”
“Don’t like perfume.”
“But I am wearing one though… Has the scent been bothering you all this time, Arasaka?”
“No, Arasaka was wrong. Arasaka likes perfume, and Arasaka hates salt. Taste of sadness. The scent of sadness.” 
“Oh, no! If Pantalone’s smell makes my dear Arasaka sad, then maybe we should drown him in Varunastra,” you chuckled darkly, expecting the aranara to react loudly over your out-of-pocket remark.
“Of course. Salt Nara would make for decent spare rations!”
You laughed out loud at Arasaka’s even more out-of-pocket reply. Out-of-pocket is an understatement, that comment straight up sounded out-of-the-CASKET. 
Before standing up, you ruffled Arasaka’s nonexistent hair like you would with your deceased sisters.
“I’ll come back in a few days, okay? In the meantime, why don’t you read a cookbook?”
“Hmph! Nara (Y/n), you’re being mean! Just wait! My sisters will make a dish Nara (Y/n) can’t say “no” to!” 
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“It’s a dumb risk.”
“It’s a new business venture, dearest.”
“The market for new eyeglasses isn’t going to rise any time soon.”
“Why are you so adamant on opposing this idea?”
“Stagnation breeds putrefaction, especially in business, does it not?” You raised an eyebrow, preparing for a harangue. 
“Je suis d’accord!” The man spoke softly, accentuating his Fontaine pronunciation somewhat boastfully. Knowing your disability, he never raises his voice to the point of it hurting. “And it is precisely why I want to invest in an eyewear conglomerate in Sumeru.”
“Then why are you dropping your prior investments?!”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
You sighed, annoyed.
Pantalone is an amazing businessman, but without your council, he wouldn’t amount to who he is now. Unlike most people, “sneakily ambitious” are not the words you would describe your visionless friend. Such a moniker sounds insulting given his lack of celestial blessings and you know Celestia itself never took kindly towards his well-versed dirty tricks against his opponents.
In your humble opinion, the term “industrious” is a better-suited and less backhanded compliment for him.
You’ve known Pantalone— no— “██████” since childhood. Your history stretched back so much that you no longer recall the circumstances of how you befriended him. He acted as your ears when it came to haggling and normal day-to-day chores. As far as you know, he has always been an older brother to you. In times of extreme poverty, you both prayed and starved together, scraping by using salt rocks as entrees. 
There was no one else that made your deafness bearable except for him. With no family left, he was your only beacon of hope and dear Morax– you’d rather not remind yourself of the time your dead sisters mistakenly ate mud for rice cakes when famine struck.  
You chose Amurta out of the Six Great Schools for a reason:
You can’t afford to watch anyone die of hunger ever again.
When you began living in Sumeru, you had pledged your alliance with the region but never forgot all the toil you had to go through. As a malnourished child, you quickly fell in love with the nation. In Sumeru, healthcare was free– in Liyue? You heard nothing, and you wished that “advantage” doesn’t make you blind from the evil you witnessed in the slums. Poverty ate away your hearing, your family, and your childhood dreams… 
In a way, the only reason you see aranaras in the first place may be that you didn’t have the chance to experience any childlike wonder until you escaped Liyue.
Pantalone scoffed, “whether you agree with my financial decision or not doesn't affect my resolve. Do not press more about this, dearest.”
… But you’re convinced that your closest confidant “██████” had already perished from starvation long ago.
The man before you calls himself “Pantalone” nowadays and you lose all sense of indolence whenever his presence looms. When he watched your last sister perish in your arms, an epiphany gave birth to his cold demeanor towards deities. He found it challenging to worship the Archons who had no need for mora but were eager to take it away from destitute mortals who needed it as you and your sisters did. The death of your younger sibling was his final straw, and in a sense, you also buried your old friend that night. 
Unlike ██████, Pantalone cannot forgive nor trust the Archons for their broken promises. If Lesser Lord Kusanali had abandoned withered forests, Rex Lapis had abandoned those whose blood and tears cannot amount to any mora. You were only allowed to study at the Akademiya after he decided the former was the lesser evil.
Although Pantalone never condemns you for calling him by his birth name, you cannot tell yourself that he and ██████ are fully the same person. There is an unspoken need to straighten your posture and greet him with a semi-scowl to demonstrate your maturity despite him acting cozy and warm. Worse, his lax demeanor never ceases to remind you that despite his uncomfortable reputation, Pantalone is the only companion you’d entrust your soul to even when the world warns you not to deal a contract with the devil.
“You just want to use new brackets every day—”
“I am a businessman, love.”
You speared Pantalone with a pointed look.
“—And why Sumeru? Have you landed a deal with a reputable Amurtan optician? And why didn’t you ask ME first? You weren’t cornered by Dottore or the Tianquan to kickstart an eyeglasses company, were you?”
He scowled, unamused before firing back without skipping a beat. 
“Summer, seven years ago. You accidentally bought six bunraku puppets from Inazuma—”
Your eyes widened. Not this embarrassing anecdote again.
“Woah, woah! Now, why are YOU extorting me?”
“So you’d be silenced quicker.”
“…”
This reticence was slowly exasperating the harbinger, but he never utters a complaint when you're whom he's conversing with. Pantalone cleared his throat with an elegant smile. In that moment of cessation, you figured that he had a seemingly innocent proposal in mind.
“(Y/n), my most dearest baobei…” The harbinger ventured.
“Pantalone…”
He pulled out his desk drawer and ferreted out a parcel that you suspect contains a pair of glasses.
“Would you care to be a test sub—”
“No.”
You have a gut feeling as to where this is going. He’s going to propose that it’s “just” glasses until you find out he’s been using you to track or spy on someone without your knowledge. Classic Pantalone. You won't be duped by that TWICE in a row. If you knew better, you wouldn’t have accidentally leaked intel to the Fatui that Katheryne was being controlled by the Lord of Verdure. All because Pantalone hid a recorder on one of his “gifted” hearing aids...
Listen— just because you refused to lend a hand to the Archon when she was in need and was subsequently confronted by the 2nd harbinger in Sumeru City doesn’t mean you were colluding with these fools. 
You just wanted to remain neutral in any given situation. Unlike your childhood friend, politics bore you to death. And just like the Acting Grand Sage, you’re too lazy to act as a beta tester no matter how minimal the effort the task requires.
“I only ask that you wear this pair of glasses and test its comfortability.”
“I refuse.”
“We can negotiate how much mora you’ll earn—”
“Just stop.”
“Hmm, if I phrase it as a “gift”, would you accept—”
“Hell no.”
Pantalone paused.
“Hmm…” He tapped his desk, gazing at the paperwork neatly piled up.
“Word of advice, (Y/n), it’s highly probable that the price of cocoa will rise next week,” he shrugged. “That fact is, of course, most definitely unrelated to our current discussion.”
Is he… 
Is he threatening to generate chocolate inflation over a pair of glasses?!
You scoffed, eyes wide.
“██████, you worthless SCALPER.“
“The majority prefer to call me a ‘regrator’, but that new nickname is acceptable as long as it is you who makes such mildly unpleasant utterances.”
“GAH! You— YOU—” Even though he may completely ruin your usual routine of buying chocolates after work, it's difficult to curse him out. You have no choice but to spout illogical syllables without a valid clause. “JUST— YOU!!! YOU.”
Smack.
Upon hearing your facepalm resoundingly, he laughed uncontrollably, removing his glasses to wipe his eye with an uneven grin on his face. He tried to keep his composure but he kept snorting. 
You took a peek between your fingers. What a precious noise. You haven’t heard him laugh like this for over three years now.
At that moment, you thought ██████ was alive.
“F-Fine— give me those damn eyeglasses.”
Pantalone drifted the parcel above your palm until he quickly retracted it as soon as you reached forward.
“But before I do that, can you promise me one thing?”
“What is it this time?” You groaned.
“Don’t lend it to anyone else, understand?” Pantalone slightly ruffled your hair. “I had it custom-made for you.”
You rolled your eyes, “that thing is definitely wiretapped. You’re not even bothering to hide it anymore.”
“Oh no, it’s not just that—” 
“Just that?”
He shrugged smugly, which was not a good sign. 
“The eyeglasses function similar to an Akasha Terminal, but of course, the information you’d find there is directly from my database.”
Pantalone opened the box and swiftly put the white-framed glasses on your face. He lightly tapped the frame—
and a control panel window flickered open.
Just like an Akasha.
“H-How on earth—”
“The Doctor and I had a deal. He’ll recreate at least 80% of a regular Akasha’s functions while I help him track down a few… crops. It’s a quid pro quo, I promise. It’s less of him exploiting me and more of me exploiting…— well, that doesn’t matter right now. C’mere, let me see your lovely face...”
Pantalone tilted your chin up with his thumb. His face was inches away from yours, and his piercing lilac eyes observed your glasses and what was behind them, calculating. His breathing was notably strained in a subconscious attempt to make you feel less uncomfortable from the position he trapped you in— ever the perfect gentleman— but you see his entire face flushed in a pinkish hue. A few seconds have passed, and you feel the glove pressed against you twitching. 
Pantalone pulled away, shoulders stiff.
His ears were red.
“I-It’s working as intended.”
If not for the nature of your relationship, you were close enough to kiss– an appealing notion for the harbinger, yet it is not a move he should bring himself to try.
“Y-Yeah, no kidding. That was awkward.”
He gripped his arm, looking at the window.
Pantalone is painfully aware you think of him as an older brother. Or at least, the shadow of one, given how you rarely call him by name anymore.
“My apologies, I simply wanted to take a good look at you.'
He muttered, “you’ve grown into a gorgeous person, (Y/n).”
You didn’t hear him.
“██████– I mean, Pantalone–”
“Go back to calling me ██████, dear.”
“Pantalone.” You put more emphasis on his harbinger name, watching in glee as he rolled his eyes, “I expect to be paid in chocolates and at least two months’ worth of food.”
Indeed, your proposed exchange pleased him. ██████ knows how much you value healthy eating and abhor it greatly when others waste grains of rice. Time and imagination had transformed his early memories as you as a human so close to a skeletal figurine with sunken cheeks and broomstick-like limbs. Those thoughts cause him much sorrow. Pantalone would have pampered you for free if you had only let him– seeing you eating healthy gives him life. Almost like how a father would tell his children that seeing them full is enough to make him full as well. 
Let him spoil you with food. Please.
Seeing you thin makes him feel sad.
“What do you want to eat for dinner later? My treat, as always.”
“Mint salad sounds lovely.”
“Just mint salad?” Pantalone smiled thinly.
His dearest baobei, no longer skin and bones. No longer barely fueled by rice and salt. No longer skipping meals. It warms his heart more than the exclusive springs offered to him because of his mora and title… But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
“Hmm… Would it be okay to request a plate of Triple-Layered Consommé?” You muttered, gazing at the floor. “I kind of miss your cooking… Just. Just kind of.”
His heart skipped a few beats as he saw your shy expression. 
You straightened up, coughing, “not that your cooking is anything special, it’s just that I don’t want to eat anything too bland and–”
“Of course! Anything for you, my love.”
Pantalone grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“My baobei, you’d be too full to walk once I’m done spoiling you…”
“D-Did you have to word it so seductively?!”
You blushed once again, which only served to worsen his urge for making you undeniably satiated. 
Oh, how he wants to keep you in a cage, locked up, and fed until he’s satisfied that you’ll never starve again…
Maybe then, you’d let him spoon-feed you like years before...
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There's no rest for the wicked. When you returned to Vanarana the next day, the aranaras pulled you in for another chore at Devantaka Mountain.
“Hey, little man, get down there, right now!” 
You screamed with your hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your voice. The aforementioned "small man" scoffed, not shifting an inch from his posture, as the blue aranara crept up behind you.
Ararycan worriedly relayed that a “Wood Nara” had been trespassing the large abandoned Khaenri’ahn machine. The little vegetable-like creature had grown to trust you when it came to scaring off unwanted guests, which usually entailed eremites or treasure hoarders scavenging for scrap metal. 
“Ararycan wants to stop Wood Nara.”
You gently pried the wire off their hand, keeping it in your pocket in a very definite fashion. 
“I know, ‘Rycan, but Naras are stubborn beings.”
“Just like Nara (Y/n)?”
You gasped, eyes widened.
These plant-like beings are surprisingly masterful at the art of roasting.
 “Just like Nara (Y/n), you say?! Rude, Ararycan, rude.”
You laughed humorlessly, masking your jadedness with forced laughter. 
In all honesty, you’re inclined to believe that this job reassignment was Alhaitham’s way of punishing you for remaining neutral. But surprisingly? An Amurta alumnus like you have been enjoying the task and in no small part thanks to these silly little creatures.
It's absurd to imagine that you would consent to be pulled by these vegetable creatures. You initially believed that they were paracosms produced by a lack of stimulation. You once tried to ignore them. Regrettably, that frail facade didn't survive due to a couple of slip-ups. The first to catch you drawing their likenesses next to your weather reports was Arapas. The second was Arabalika, who overheard you whispering about how powerful they were after they defeated a ruin grader, and then Arama who heard you humming their songs. They’ve built up quite the case against you, and you had to fess up before they start giving you a hard time.
By “hard time”, you were referring to how a crowd of tumultuous aranaras huddled up and tugged your hearing aids’ wire with their teeny hands incessantly.
Which was what Ararycan is doing right now.
“Get us up there, Nara (Y/n).” 
"Careful, Rycan– you might damage the wire."
Suddenly, the hatted man's eyes widened after seeing you. Call it intuition, but it seemed like this total stranger knew who you were.
You made an exaggeratedly loud inhaling sound, turning off your hearing aids momentarily.
And then, a scream.
“STOP, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!! RIGHT!!! NOW!!!”
The difference between stupidity and bravery is measured by outcome, and neither are variables you wish for this “Wood Nara” to test out. Alhaitham would have you write two pages detailing an incident if the stranger broke something and eight more if the machine awakened. And sadly, you are only a small percent less lazy than that man.
Despite your words droning childishly, you made no move to approach him. His eyes sharpened, but you felt no scrutiny— 
This man you’ve never met wore a blatant look of disbelief.
You looked down.
Maybe he could see Ararycan…?
“Hey— can you see them?”
You swiftly swept Ararycan off the ground, who made a surprised yelp. 
The man winced.
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"P-Please… Leave the forest alone…"
"And why should I care about your pathetic request?"
"Please, have mercy… T-There are creatures that live in this area… Creatures you cannot see because you lacked a human heart."
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“–Ngh!”
Those memories were hard to swallow, like reading an inked sloppy handwriting submerged in water.
“G-Good riddance…”
The man coiled in pain, gripping his scalp with his lithe fingers. You cannot view the expression on his face, nor were you able to verify that he had yelped. The distance between you two was too great to conceive a communication that did not rely on shouting.
“Nara (Y/n), what are you doing?!”
Although your proximity with the aranara doesn’t cause any communication barriers, that didn’t stop Ararycan from yelling.
For some reason, the stranger flinched after seeing you carry what appeared to be air around “normal people”’s vision. Perhaps he found your actions cringe-inducing… or perhaps it made his migraine worse. Then again, both possibilities are not mutually exclusive. However, you have a feeling he didn’t flinch because he saw Ararycan.
The blue aranara leaped off of your hands.
“Ararycan is worried… Ararycan thinks Wood Nara is going to destroy the giant iron mountain…”
You stared up at the man again, wanting to go on for a long rant but refrained after realizing how immature that is. While you do have a hunch that the stranger possessed a vision, you’d bet mora that he is no match for Arabalika’s accumulated Ararakalari. 
“Say, why do you keep calling him Wood Nara? Is it because of his ginormous hat?” You whispered to Ararycan.
“Huh? Did Nara (Y/n) not notice?” They tilted their head.
“Ararycan calls him “Wood Nara” because he’s made of white wood. Ararycan is not sure if he is a real Nara.”
Their answer entered from one ear and exited in the other. You’re used to hearing the Aranara lexicon that you never take any sentence at face value since you’ve learned your lesson back when Arasaka made you scout the market for a “Taste of Happiness.” Thank the Lord of Verdure that it was only Pantalone who laughed at you for describing sugar as “white, cubic, crumbles when crushed, becomes sand, and can be eaten.”
“Hah, well, he better not be made out of wood 'cause I might burn him.”
“Ararycan doesn’t think that’s easy to do. Wood Nara smells like the taste of anger,” once again, you ignored their riddled words.
You clutched the pyro vision dangling in your cloak’s right shoulder, located opposite where Alhaitham places his. Your skill set does not differ from that dendro user’s repertoire, and you calculated what vertice you should drop upon teleporting. Grabbing Ararycan, you rushed forward...
Without making it past the one-minute mark, you leaped effortlessly to where the stranger stood.
“Excuse me, young man, but do you have an Investigation Charter from the Akademiya?”
With an unused voice when it comes to dishing out commands– much less an implied threat– your approach wasn’t even a fraction of what makes authorities like the General Mahamatra intimidating. Yet, you still tried. You crossed your arms and hovered your hand near your claymore.
This stranger gazed up, boasting his soft face and beautiful lilac eyes topped with a complexion quite like a sheltered princess. He had the finest eyes you had ever seen. Yet, even with a heaven-sent face, his eyebrows were knitted. He continued kneeling on the cold metal of the giant mossed and corroded machine. 
One closer look should’ve made you hyper-aware that his joints were not bound by mortal flesh, but your heart was more entranced by his glassy pupils. 
“We meet again. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.” 
He muttered inaudibly, hence, you did not hear him. Since you also just came back from visiting Liyue and their post-festival fireworks, you’ve turned your hearing aid settings lower than usual. You bent your knees slightly, offering a hand.
“Nana korobi ya oki,” you said. The stranger looked like he hailed from Inazuma, so you thought you’d put your knowledge to good use. “It means–”
Unbeknownst to you, you uttered the same thing in a past long forgotten.
“I know: fall down seven times, get up eight.”
His gloved hand grasped your own, and you tried not to think about how soft yet firm it was as you pulled him up. You grunted slightly from the shifted weight while he didn’t breathe at all.
“No, I don’t have any clearance permit,” he said. “And I still don't have a heart, if that still matters to you.”
You raised an eyebrow.
‘Still’? What the hell is he talking about? Aaru village is miles away from here, but is it possible that the man you’re talking to is a mad scholar? That’s concerning. 
Pushing your glasses farther up the bridge of your nose, you tried to search his face in Sumeru's records– which might be more unlawful than whatever this man's doing, but who's policing you anyways?
Nothing.
There's not a single official record on this man.
Not even in the Fatui's database.
Almost like the man in front of you doesn't exist.
"What the hell are you wearing?" The man sneered. "Since when did you have awful eyesight too?"
“No Investigation Charter, no clearance, just what do you think you’re doing here?” You digressed. “May I at least have your name?”
The man tilted his hat up, “and why should I stupidly give my information away?”
Your eye twitched. He kinda reminds you of Arabalika. Maybe if you gave him a cane he’ll calm down a bit.
“I do have a use for your name, awkward stranger.”
“And that is?”
Writing a report to the Acting Grand Sage regarding suspicious individuals.
“Something to call you,” you shrugged with a child-like candor, renewing your request with bold obstinacy. “I’d rather not recount this tale to various parties as That One Time An Awful Little Man Tried To Pry Open A Giant Machine And Failed.”
He exhaled curtly.
… Was that a laugh?
“How childish. Even if you don't know my name, your "friends"– assuming you have some– will remember me by that stupid description.”
“I mean, it's a memorable first impression,” you met his gaze smugly. “But why are you hiding your name, hmm? Suspicious.”
“It’s called respecting one’s privacy. Something you don't understand.”
How rude of him to make assumptions about you, “are you some covert government official?”
“No.”
“Then what? Are you some inhuman being?”
“...” He didn’t say a word.
Something tells you that the answer is close to your hunch.
“[Wanderer].”
He muttered, once again, you did not hear it so he spoke louder.
“That's my name. Don't you dare make me repeat it.”
“[Wanderer]…”
You missed the way he tipped his hat, hiding an uncontrollable smile from your view.
[Wanderer]... That does sound like a fitting name. It reminded you of a character from a franchise or mythological tale you thoroughly enjoyed as a teenager. It might be rude to share that information, though. You’re not certain how this bratty person would react upon hearing that his name might as well be the name of your lotus from a botany class.
Normally, [Wanderer] would snap a “speak up– is there something wrong with my name?” upon listening to hushed whispers or a resounding silence after his many introductions. But you’re different for a reason. 
There was no way in hell he would take the traveler's suggestion over a name you had given him.
Ararycan tugged your pants.
“Hey, don’t just stare at him, Nara (Y/n)! Tell him to leave!!!” Araycan trashed around. “Nara (Y/n) must be a brave Nara if you like the taste of anger.”
[Wanderer] is the taste of anger? Is that what Ararycan was trying to say?
You blushed, fake-coughing behind your hand.
You wouldn’t say he reminds you of the taste of anger– especially with that winsome face. If anything, his appearance looks a lot like the bunraku dolls you accidentally bought years ago.
“Well, [Wanderer], it’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” you said. “But this is a dangerous area. What are you doing here…?”
“I just wanted to look for traces of the Doctor,” [Wanderer] crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I can’t pry this stupid machine open.”
“The Doctor? Who’s that?”
“The Harbinger who sits at the second–”
“Aah, The Outcast. I see–” you shook your head. “Wait, no, I don’t get it. What does he have anything to do with this machine here? This is a Khaenriah’n creation.” 
“I know, I’m not dumb like you. I'm here because The Doctor had plans for these automatons, that’s why I’m here.”
“But even so, it’s not advisable to wander these parts alone. You ought to have asked for a travel companion. Who knows if you run into a hoard of vanaagnis in marana?”
“Hmph. Do you think I can’t handle a few whooperflowers in a withering zone? The audacity.”
“Arrogance is the capital stock of misfortune– wait, how’d you know Vanaagnis is a term for whooperflowers?” You blinked expressively. “And the meaning of marana too– so you ARE a mad scholar.”
“I’m NOT,” [Wanderer] glared. You noticed how he seemed unimpressed when you mentioned that proverb about arrogance and “capital stock”, and his expression soured more when you accused him of being a lunatic. 
“I just… I just learned from the best.”
[Wanderer]'s stare not wavering away from you.
Your silence did not go unnoticed by the other two.
“...Why do I have a feeling you’re trying to say that you’ve learned from me?” Those words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.
[Wanderer]’s eyes widened.
“Can… Can you remember?”
“Remember…?”
He frowned, eyes reflecting his disappointment.
“No, no, it’s probably just a fluke,” [Wanderer] frowned with a finger tracing his lips. “Maybe my expression just gave it away…”
“Nara (Y/n)!!! Tell Wood Nara to leeaaaaveee!!!”
You tried not to flinch at Ararycan’s whining. They don’t seem to understand that having poor hearing doesn’t mean you can’t register their commands.
[Wanderer] walked past you. 
“Fine, I’ll leave this device alone, but on one condition.”
“What makes you think you’re the one in control–”
“Go out with me.”
“...”
“...”
“... What?”
Your eyeglasses flickered red.
But that red light was gone in a blink, you weren't even sure if it existed.
You laughed nervously, “sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly–”
He refused to meet your eyes like a coward.
[Wanderer] replied brusquely, “look– you're partially deaf, but you’re NOT stupid. You heard what I said, so own it.”
"Hold on– where is all this coming from, [Wanderer]?" You pivoted your heel but were too late to yank his sleeve. 
He already hovered a few feet away from you.
"I'll come to visit this place more often," [Wanderer] smirked. "You’ll still be here at the upcoming Festival, right? Mark your calendar. That’s our date.”
“Hey, you can’t just!– Aaand he’s gone.”
Despite his abrupt parting, you couldn’t help but smile over such a cheeky encounter, completely forgetting how that man rummaged through the giant machine you’re standing on without a permit.
Something tells you that you’d see him more often.
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And you did.
“[Wanderer]” never failed to visit you at 10 AM sharp every day, until there was only one day left till the next Sumeru Festival. At first, you thought his eccentric personality would make the following days unbearable, but he was rather civil– just sharp-tongued. 
He would show up whenever you wandered in the forest to disseminate knowledge about the local flora and Sumeru's history. Some of them you already knew, while others had you wondering if he knew the Lord of Verdure. While you were trying to interview him for a report, not as a trespasser but as an assistant, you once purposely lightened the atmosphere to get honest responses from him. When you jokingly asked who he was, his reply was unsatisfactory.
“Who I am is not carved in wood nor stone. ᏕᎧᎷᏋᎧᏁᏋ wise told me that it’s a flexible concept and it’s easier to understand through a story, but even then, you’d only see a fraction of who that person is,” [Wanderer] peered dotingly. “If you wish to know who I am, then work for it. I’m not giving you a damn summary.”
Tomorrow is your first "date" with the man and you barely knew him.
Your internalized frustration made him think you’re insatiably adorable. 
How the tables have turned. 
After all, [Wanderer] only responded with the same answer you had given him before.
In a forgotten history, ᎩᎧᏬ were the one that spouts spontaneous philosophical questions that led him into fits of unintelligible musings. [Wanderer] berated humanity for being sentimental creatures yet look at him now, proudly boasting the name ᎩᎧᏬ gave him wherever he went. It is by no means grander than a title like God of Everlasting Eternity or other such monikers, but when Godhood has stripped away from him, that name provided more solace than a seat in Celestia.
“The Puppet”, “Kunikuzushi”– such utterances are water under the bridge. Only [Wanderer] stays afloat, like a bubble on water. Maybe a bubble is only beautiful for a moment, yet that moment weighs more than a meaningless “eternity” and he knows this well…
[Wanderer] had been played by fate. Attaining freedom, independence, and a vision did not absolve what chokehold you had on his synthetic being. 
You're a colorful character, averaging about five meaningful papers per year– all the while considering yourself a "retired" genius. [Wanderer] would've been a kinder and forgiving person if you were his young and impressionable self's creator. He envied your patients, your strange collection of bunraku dolls, and the tenderness you reserve for them. 
He missed you, no matter how often you both fought. Your hums used to enchant him when you lull him asleep with aranara songs, but they now haunt him up at night. You were his puppet and he was your dictator until you had grown exhausted of foreign power enough that you abandoned your neutrality and revolted. 
But you did not revolt against him in this revision. Without a doubt, his revised “past” still mirrored the pain he caused, but through other means. He can’t say he had no regrets when he tampered with the Irminsul. Niwa’s death had less weight in this world, and for the wanderer, death without sanctification for a significant purpose is unnecessary homicide. And instead of helping Azar’s experiment, you became a “disobedient pet” who saw no need to collaborate with his superiority complex.
Yet, despite being such a disobedient pet– in his opinion, that’s a grave understatement–, he can’t help but cherish you.
The puppet missed the way his delusion marked your body. Fingerprint-like blotches collared your neck before, but when the slate was wiped clean, so too did his inflicted bruises. He missed the way you begged him to stop the pain. He missed the way you defended invisible creatures as “Queen Aranyani’s successor.” He missed the way you begged to keep the forest safe.
He missed the way you begged to be his.
But those marks are long gone– the symbol he carved on the nape of your neck had disappeared. You no longer had anything that resembled signs of his ownership.
Not only that, but seeing you wear eyeglasses– something you haven't before– fills him with anger.
The one saving grace from this situation was when this timeline confirmed that you wouldn’t help Azar if it wasn’t for [Wanderer]. You were interested in his personality and disposition as a puppet longing for a human heart, not just any of Dottore’s run-of-the-mill creations. That observation surely boosted his ego. 
Your opinions mattered to him most in that project. Admittedly, he craved everyone’s veneration, even when they lacked true understanding.
But you were the first mortal that made him appreciate his defects…
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"Is it so bad to live this way?" You combed his hair with your fingers. "Must you try your hand with such heresy?"
"Know your place," Scaramouche gritted his teeth. "You're nothing more than my maintenance worker- you do not deserve an audience."
"Be that as it may, future faux-god, can't you entertain me for just a moment? If I wasn't worried about you, I wouldn't be helping you with this damn treacherous experiment.
You ignored how he snarled at such a nickname, "it pains me to watch you lust for more power when you already boast an acceptable form. What is it that makes you so desperate? Is it because you can't hide the ball joints that connect your fingers and limbs?"
You continued while adjusting the tightness of his skeletal wrists.
"Is it so bad to live on as a defective being? Does imperfection invalidate a life's purpose? I only ask out of curiosity. I have imperfect ears, so does that make my life devoid of meaning?"
Scaramouche frowned, "do not compare your ears to my heart or lack thereof."
He didn't understand why his voice cracked. Scaramouche did not feel his usual temperament sizzling over but something heavy resided in his chest.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize, I know you're not sorry," Scaramouche cupped your cheek, sporting an uncharacteristically loving smile.
"And your unapologetic behavior is what makes you my first sage."
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His first sage…
[Wanderer] laughed to himself.
His first sage would know that if he gained a heart, he would've seen the aranara you were talking to earlier.
But this is fine. He can start over again. 
This time, he’ll make you love him normally.
Heaven, please help the white wood that fell in love for it will never be human…
Out of the blue, Scaramouche spun and hurled three consecutive wind blades toward the woods with precision.
Be that as it may, the walking salt is surely more pathetic.
The “trees” grunted, but [Wanderer] did not miss the smell of salt-infused perfumes.
What a shame. 
The next Sumeru Festival, your “date”, is tomorrow, yet there will always be those who lurk in the shadows to see the mighty fall. 
"Pantalone…" 
The ex-sixth harbinger snarled with unfathomable familiarity. Which was the complete opposite of the ninth harbinger, who coldly greeted him like a new enemy. 
"Good afternoon, [Wanderer]."
Pantalone pulled out a gun from his hidden holster.
"No hard feelings, sir," the businessman smiled thinly. "I am but a simple man eliminating a love rival. You see, it’s not nice threatening to steal someone’s possession."
Scaramouche cackled.
How annoying. He never liked this friend of yours– he much preferred the one that planned a coup. Pantalone was not a coworker Scaramouche liked, much less a rival. This ambitious man was always a parasite, pretending to be worried while threatening to withhold project funding behind your back. Scaramouche will never forget how he boasted insolently that he had known you longer as if eternity wouldn't be enough to make up for it.
"You never change, mortal," he laughed even harder. "I knew something was off about (Y/n)'s glasses!"
"Hmm? Is that so?" Pantalone pushed them up closer– reminding Scaramouche that he’s no terrible shot. "How strange. In any case, I quite frankly don't care what you know or do not know."
He pulled the trigger as Scaramouche stomped his feet.
Only a few knew what occurred in Vanarana that day, but there was one thing the forest remembered.
Before either of them parted, a loud bang echoed that even deaf trees can't miss.
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You woke up from Araja’s house (which was the only comfortable place to sleep in Vanarana) after passing out from tumultuous loads of paperwork sent directly by the Baharak. She joked that at that point, maybe she had become a bad omen for you– and you confirmed her suspicions. The tasks the Acting Grand Sage laid out for you were taxing, if not, deleterious for your mental well-being, and worst of all–
He sent a notice that this would be your last week patrolling Vanarana.
When you spread the announcement, the aranaras were saddened by the news. Even Arabalika was unimpressed and asked if you can prolong your services. Alas, it can’t be refuted.
Noticing how tired you appeared, the village chief immediately commanded you to sleep while you pretended not to hear whispers of a surprise farewell party. Considering how the place looked positively empty this morning, you’d wager that they’re busy working on it.
But you do smell that someone’s cooking right now…
The enticing scent emanated from a large pot. As you sauntered closer, you noticed how Arasaka was tending to the food. The aranara gave you a friendly wave that you didn’t reciprocate. It’s rather chilly in Vanarana in the mornings– and the sleeves of your jacket were comfy. 
“Good morning, Nara (Y/n)!”
“Good morning, ‘Saka. That smells delicious,” you smiled bittersweetly.
“Hehe, really? Glad to hear it! One of Nara (Y/n)’s friends helped gather the ingredients. That Nara was good at hunting down prey!”
One of your friends…? You haven't introduced a lot of people to the aranaras. That can only mean it's either Baharak, Pantalone, or [Wanderer], and you can safely remove the first one since they're positively busy with guild matters. 
... Huh. But those two can't see aranaras. Does that mean they stole Pantalone or [Wanderer]'s game?
"Pfft..." You chortled. Yeah, imagining either of them getting confused as to why their hunted boar had gone missing feels like a sight to see.
You took the ladle from Arasaka’s hand and sipped the warm liquid.
“Oh, hey, this tastes pretty good!”
“Hehe, Arasaka is glad to hear you liked it! Nara taste buds are hard to please.”
You took another sip as Arasaka watched. The warm soup went down smoothly, but the aftertaste had a serpent-like bite to it. It tastes akin to red sorghums Pantalone would down whenever social drinking was inevitable. Your only critique was that it would’ve been a refreshing experience if there wasn’t a rocky object stuck between your teeth. You awkwardly picked it out.
… And saw a small hint of (wood/salt) between your fingers.
You stared at Arasaka.
Strange…
Something feels… off. 
This doesn't taste like happiness, it tastes like…
You shivered and yet the aranaras around you still had that same painted smile. 
 "Does Nara (Y/n) like the taste now? The taste of friendship?”
… Friendship?
No. That can’t be it.
The spoon splashed back into the bowl. You didn’t say a word, only stared at the boiling pot. You knelt, grabbing both handles to gaze upon the bubbling red liquid. With trembling hands, you picked the spoon back up and swirled the contents. Nothing was of note–
Until you scooped something from the very bottom and found thick strands of dark hair.
A very familiar strand of dark hair.
You adjusted your glasses in an attempt to find out where this human hair came from–
“Nara (Y/n) likes the scent of (wood/salt) Nara so my sisters added him in!” Arasaka innocently cheered.
Your heart dropped.
You turned pale– gagging.
No. It can't be.
Did you just eat…
“So, Nara (Y/n)– does our cooking taste bland now?”
… “him”?
“Oh, Nara (Y/n)’s friend is approaching! Don’t forget to thank him for the food!”
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fateandloveentwined · 3 months
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wuxia and confucianism
Hey. Thought I'd answer the wuxia-confucian question very briefly. I did suggest wuxia being closely knitted to confucianism, but I do understand the other perspective of wuxia being anti-confucian. Quick answer only because I've got little time right now -- might add on to it later!!
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confucianism
First the central themes of confucianism:
常 (cháng): Virtues of compassion and courtesy. 仁 (rén)、义 (yì)、礼 (lǐ)、智 (zhì)、信 (xìn)、忠 (zhōng)、孝 (xiào)、悌 (tì) (there are more). These in order in crude translation mean compassion, righteousness, courtesy, wisdom, integrity, loyalty, filial piety, and respect to one's older siblings. These are the main ideas Confucius, the founder of Confucianism, wished to spread through his philosophy.
纲 (gāng): Order. This is about the relationships between people, the filial piety of child to their parents, the relationship between significant others, between friends and teachers, and expanding outwards in the sphere of influence in our circle of life, the patriotism and loyalty of a liege to his lord.
Understand that Confucius came up with these ideas in a time of war. He lived his life traversing different kingdoms and establishing his prominence by getting emperors to trust him as a consultant and employ his school of ideas. As such, these beliefs are very much centred around creating harmony and order in society, and of course entails the respect of commoners and lieges to their lords (because why else would kings employ his beliefs over other schools of philosophy if not so?).
wuxia
Moving on to the wuxia genre, the 侠 (xiá) in wuxia emphasises righteousness. xia, as people, are itinerants and rebels in the fictitious pugilistic society who tire of the power of the aristocracy and seek to use their own, often unlawful ways, to help others through 锄强扶弱 (chú qiáng fú ruò) -- helping the needy and going against the strong (the morals are debatable but that's me trying to sum up wuxia in 5 minutes off the top of my head rip).
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conclusions
So I guess that's enough information for you to form your own conclusions, and here's what I think, at the very least.
Against Confucianism -- Subverting the power pyramid. Many of the heroes/xia's in wuxia are lawless rebels. They aren't good, upstanding citizens of the society. Hell, xia was first popularised from 游侠列传 (yóu xiá liè zhuàn) in the Han dynasty records, talking about how a "xia" went against the officials and helped the commoners in the name of righteousness. This goes against the confucian beliefs of respecting your lord and serving the kingdom.* That's why I can understand why some would consider wuxia going against confucianism.
Align with Confucianism -- Righteousness. Ultimately, however, wuxia is about righteousness and nobility and honour, defined by society and commoners and not by royal blood. These values of etiquette, decorum, and nobility were long ingrained in the hearts of all these chinese characters, from when the courtesy and etiquette rules were defined in the Zhou dynasty, and afterwards, from the Han dynasty on, when emperors heavily employed Confucian beliefs in education and throughout society because it helps in rebuilding a harmonious society.
Confucianism is about compassion and righteousness, the staples permeating and defining chinese culture in the last two thousand years, and it is these values that serve as the central impetus of the xia and wuxia genres. People are born into these values; as such they fight against the injustice they see, and thus engenders the lost xia's of every dynasty.
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*And well, even Confucius wasn't that dead set on fealty to lords. Confucian highly venerated loyalty, but when the court is corrupt, they acknowledge insurgence over the mindless following of an emperor. This is a story for another day, one I would have to back up with more quotes and citations, but I hope this answered your questions, or even better, let you form some conclusions of your own :)
Confucian philosophy is only one aspect that has correlations/influences over the "xia" genre, there are many other interesting things to say about Taoism and Buddhism as well (e.g. Jin Yong's wuxia classics have quite a bit of Buddhist values in the characters owing to author preferences), it's definitely worth looking up on these things if you're interested!
initially reblogged under the original meta post on wuxia, xianxia, and cultivation differences, but i realised it was too long and would bury the reply, so please don't mind me opening a new post for this again.
feel free to ask and discuss!!
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makingqueerhistory · 24 days
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Letters to a Writer of Color
Taymour Soomro (Editor) Deepa Anappara (Editor)
A vital collection of essays on the power of literature and the craft of writing from an international array of writers of color, sharing the experiences, cultural traditions, and convictions that have shaped them and their work "Electric essays that speak to the experience of writing from the periphery . . . a guide, a comfort, and a call all at once."--Laila Lalami, author of Conditional Citizens Filled with empathy and wisdom, instruction and inspiration, this book encourages us to reevaluate the codes and conventions that have shaped our assumptions about how fiction should be written, and also challenges us to apply its lessons to both what we read and how we read. Featuring: - Taymour Soomro on resisting rigid stories about who you are - Madeleine Thien on how writing builds the room in which it can exist - Amitava Kumar on why authenticity isn't a license we carry in our wallets - Tahmima Anam on giving herself permission to be funny - Ingrid Rojas Contreras on the bodily challenge of writing about trauma - Zeyn Joukhadar on queering English and the power of refusing to translate ourselves - Myriam Gurba on the empowering circle of Latina writers she works within - Kiese Laymon on hearing that no one wants to read the story that you want to write - Mohammed Hanif on the censorship he experienced at the hands of political authorities - Deepa Anappara on writing even through conditions that impede the creation of art - Plus essays from Tiphanie Yanique, Xiaolu Guo, Jamil Jan Kochai, Vida Cruz-Borja, Femi Kayode, Nadifa Mohamed in conversation with Leila Aboulela, and Sharlene Teo The start of a more inclusive conversation about storytelling, Letters to a Writer of Color will be a touchstone for aspiring and working writers and for curious readers everywhere.
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artisticmenace · 25 days
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SOOO funny how nightvale has some funny bits like a fucking gigantic pyramid in the sky and some fucking dudes in cloaks and a secret police force but then they drop two drops of the most unfiltered wisdom EVER like OOOKAAYY.
basically i love this show and fucking "Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you." and also "But a story is never for the listener. It is always for the one who tells." like YEAAH OK AND I THOUGHT THIS WAS SO SILLY
and i get to be a citizen of nightvale for like thirty minutes and then eventually they go "hey, youre a real person and also the passage of time." and i go "wow i think i can deal with that now and wow the certainty of death isnt so bad." and suddenly my negativity has been neutralized in the form of a very gay very ancient radio host with a very out there sense of fashion.
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jymwahuwu · 11 months
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imagine if yanderes cyno and tighnari darlings actually managed to escape them and took the kids with them 😩🤯 they manage to evade them for at least a couple days maybe even weeks...i imagine tighnari and cyno are not at all happy when they are found
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these asks should be related, so answer them together!! i actually like the concept of running away and getting caught together🤭 in this content you can be Tighnari or Cyno's wife, it's up to you! 💕
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TW: yandere, non-con, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, escape, punishment, abuse of power, unhealthy relationship, spanking, aphrodisiac
Since Tighnari and Cyno are close enough to call their relationship siblings, they must have introduced their partners to each other. Of course you two know each other. You wanna run away with the other huh? Think twice, okay?
For the little housewife at Tighnari's house, now, for your daily life, take care of the fox babies and cook mushroom soup every day, clean and be bred by that man, teach Collei to read new storybooks and grammar. Tighnari always have a desire to reproduce, and it's not uncommon to push you next to a tree and put his swollen cock into your smooth walls. He loves your shyness and panic when you hold down your moans. And, after some Forest Rangers laugh and tell you to get some rest because of your accusations against their Chief Officer, you've stopped thinking that meeting more people might be a chance to be saved. Even when Tighnari tells you that two guests are coming and asks you to prepare, you just nod obediently.
For Cyno's wife, maybe you are a student of Akademiya, or just an ordinary citizen, but it doesn't matter, you don't even know why you are locked up at home by General Mahamatra. Cyno's home is filled with TCG products and some daily necessities, furniture and food. He's not the type to take care of himself. You start taking care of his life whether you like it or not - heating him up some food, cleaning the house and fighting him (in TCG). He also keeps telling you some bad jokes. He's actually kind and gentle, and what you dread are the nights he breeds you - he wants babies and wants you to fully accept the seeds. "Cy-Cyno…!! STOP!!" You gripped the sheets, toes curling as he pressed against your sensitive private parts. Pregnancy is inevitable. Now your babies can run happily in Sumeru city and house.
Cyno occasionally talks to you about his close friend named Tighnari and a little sister named Collei, and takes you and the children to the forest. Gradually, visits became more frequent. You greet each other, the babies are close playmates and friends, and the house fills with the sound of them running across the floor, introducing each other's toys. You ask each other for help one day when your husband isn't there, only to find that they are both equally horrible - why can they do these things? With someone in a similar situation, some hope is kindled in you. You secretly discuss the escape. Well, this is the City of Wisdom, so discuss it in some sensible way, okay? Don't show them any traces. The two of you exchange some codes to discuss and plan your escape route.
One day, the two of you escaped together. The conclusion of the discussion is that you absolutely cannot stay in Sumeru - one of them is in the forest and the other is in the desert, one can arrest and interrogate anyone and the other manages the rainforest area. Fontaine, Liyue, Mondstadt…you can go to any country, but you can't stay here. You run away with the babies, of course. You can't bear to leave them behind. They are scared about the journey, cuddling in your arms, asking questions like "Where are we going?", "Why doesn't papa come with us?" You reassure them, pat them on the back.
The silent and dark rainforest seems to be able to swallow the people inside. You explore according to your memory and experience, you feel wet and real under your feet, and you breathe the smell of freedom mixed with soil, and you can see the moonlight shining brightly when you look up. Occasionally, stepping on a branch and waking a sleeping squirrel makes you hear your own heart beating. The two of you meet up at the appointed place, thankful that each other was not caught by your husband.
Tighnari and Cyno were annoyed at the disappearance of the two of you - and honestly, it kind of pissed them off. You're running away now, and even taking the babies on your little adventure? Really? What kind of mother would run away from home with her babies? What is even more unacceptable is that no letter was left trying to explain your actions. At first, they thought about the danger or accident you might encounter, but all the clues showed that this was your planned escape. Cyno decided to chase you himself. Tighnari knows the details of the woods' rivers, trees, and routes, but the signs are that you have fled to the desert. He's sure it was his wife's suggestion, because you know he hates desert temperatures.
When you have fled to the desert, the orders for the Sumeru border checks have arrived. "This- this is our portrait…?" Finding some of your portraits posted in Caravan Ribat and Aaru Village really makes your stomach sink. Did they have to go this far? After a simple disguise, you temporarily stayed at the inn. You should not stay long as some of the inn staff scan you with confusion and suspicion. In desert areas, you can hire some mercenaries. Knowing that everyone has secrets, they don't ask too many reasons, they just need to send you to the border of Sumeru. And that takes days. Sand and wind all over the sky, the camel rides you forward. During the journey, you turn your head in worry, afraid that General Mahamatra will appear at the end of the desert on the other side.
Think about it - how hopeless is it when you get caught after an adventure and are only a short distance away from reaching other countries? There are still traps in the desert - what's even more unexpected is seeing those familiar fox ears before passing out. And those boots that belonged to him slowly walked in front of you. On the other hand, the one caught by Cyno was not so lucky. There is no way to fall asleep. He looks intimidating. You stammer and explain that you were taken by someone else, try to make up some excuse, but he tells you to shut up or you'll just make things worse. Once you taste the menace and seriousness in his tone, you start sobbing. People around you are looking at you curiously, wondering what you did to get you caught by General Mahamatra. He didn't talk to you much along the way, giving you the silent treatment.
Punishment - You thought you could get away with it after all that happened? Cyno thinks you are just taking advantage of his trust and tenderness in you. When you get home, he forces you to strip to check you for any wounds. You are awkwardly unable to cover your own private parts, feeling weak and small in front of him. Next, Cyno pulls you onto his lap and gives you a long spanking. This time your crying has no effect on his punishment. He puts a bracelet on your wrist - Akademiya's invention for locating and tracking people's location. As for Tighnari's punishment, you had to drink all the aphrodisiac mushroom soup. Your lips are quivering, your nipples are hard, and between your legs is dripping and aching, waiting for your husband to come home. He also used a whole week of bedtime spanking to remind you of the existence of the ruler and paddle at home.
If you thought that Tighnari and Cyno would never allow the two of you to meet again, you were wrong. When the two of you meet, they know it's almost like a humiliation, a reminder of that failed escape. "Stop thinking about your little adventures. Go to the kitchen and bake some cookies when you have time." Tighnari even spoke like this, in a teasing tone. See the way Tighnari's wife sits uncomfortably in the chair? Cyno has been gentle enough to you. He wants you to understand this.
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