#but they weren’t historically used as tombs so… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueiskewl · 4 months

Text

‘Faces of Sanxingdui’: Bronze Age Relics Shed Light on Mysterious Ancient Kingdom

A golden face with patinaed turquoise eyes stares out of the darkness. Illuminated around it stand three other bronze heads — some have flat tops, others round — all looked over by a giant bronze statue almost 9 feet high. All have the same piercing, angular eyes.

There’s something about the “Faces of Sanxingdui” — as this collection of sculptures is being billed — that feels both familiar and alien. Currently on display at the Hong Kong Palace Museum, they may appear Mayan or Aztec to the untrained eye, but these over-3,000-year-old sculptures weren’t unearthed anywhere near Mesoamerica’s ancient civilizations. They were discovered on China’s Chengdu Plain, at an archeological dig site called Sanxingdui (which translates as “three star mound”).

Thought to be the largest and oldest site left by the Shu kingdom, a civilization in southwestern China once only hinted at in myths and legends, Sanxingdui was not discovered until the 1920s, when a farmer stumbled across objects while digging an irrigation ditch. The site has since been found to contain the ruins of an ancient city made up of residences, sacrificial pits and tombs enclosed by high dirt walls. Archaeologists from the Sanxingdui Museum say the city was established some 4,800 to 2,800 years ago, until it was abandoned around 800 BC for unknown reasons.

The Chinese government has long promoted Sanxingdui as evidence of the country’s long, uninterrupted history — with the discoveries included in history textbooks for more than a decade. And while thousands of visitors have already flocked to the groundbreaking exhibition in Hong Kong, some analysts suggest that the items are also being used to support the Chinese government’s vision of national identity.

The mysterious and talented Shu

The Shu kingdom, which emerged in the Sichuan basin during the Bronze Age, is believed to have developed independently of the Yellow River Valley societies traditionally considered the cradle of Chinese civilization. Its inhabitants created exquisitely crafted bronze, jade, gold and ceramic objects, depicting fantastical beasts, kings, gods and shamans with bulging eyes and enlarged ears.

Around 120 of the items are currently on display in Hong Kong, and it’s the first time many of these objects, most of which were excavated between 2019 and 2022, have been showcased outside Sichuan province.

Remarkably, the sculptures predate the Terracotta Army, a collection of earthenware statues depicting the armies of China’s first emperor Qin Shi Huang, by at least 1,000 years. Wang Shengyu, an assistant curator at the Palace Museum said the objects are far more advanced, imaginative, and artistic than those being produced anywhere else in China at that time.

“You can tell that it’s very sculptural and very artsy,” Wang said at the exhibition opening, pointing to a roughly 1-foot-tall bronze figure whose fantastical, braided hair extends out to three times the height of its body and, had it not been broken, would stretch much further. “You can imagine how magnificent it was. From above his nose and all the way up, it would’ve been over 1.5 meters (4.9 feet) tall, according to the fragments (archeologists) found. The end of the pigtail is on his shoulder.”

Little is known about the Shu kingdom other than what’s been discovered on the 3.6-square-kilometer (1.4-square-mile) site outside Chengdu. There is no evidence of a written Shu language, and historical literature contains scant information about its culture other than a handful of myths and legends, including a reference to a Shu king called Can Cong whose eyes were said to have protruded — perhaps explaining why so many of the 13,000 relics recovered from the site feature bulging eyes.

After the Shu state was conquered by the Qin dynasty in 316 BC, Shu culture was “buried” under the “mainstream” culture that later emerged on China’s central plain, Chinese authorities wrote in a 2013 UNESCO submission seeking to have Sanxingdui and two nearby archeological sites recognized as World Heritage Sites. They are currently on UNESCO’s “tentative list.”

Since 1986, eight excavated pits at Sanxingdui have yielded giant masks of gods with bulbous, insect-like eyes and protruding ears, mythical creatures with gaping mouths and an almost 4-meter-tall (13-foot) bronze “tree of life” sculpture decorated with ornaments like a Christmas tree. All the items were found shattered, burned and buried, leading experts to believe the pits were used for ritual sacrifices. Some have now been painstakingly re-constructed by archaeologists. “It took 10 years to reconstruct the tree,” said Wang Shengyu, an assistant curator at the museum who helped curate the exhibition.

That tree is not on show in Hong Kong, as it is considered too precious to send abroad, but a section of one of six others discovered and ornaments are on display at the museum, as well as a 3D holographic projection of what experts think it would have looked like – its layers and branches adorned with birds, flowers, fruit, dragons, bells as well as jade and gold foil ornaments. The set are thought to have been part of a theater space.

‘Historical myth’ of a continuous civilization

The exhibition places these items in the context of other ancient civilizations and includes the Shu among the many societies to have existed in the country’s “5,000-year history.” According to a press release from organizers, museum and Hong Kong government officials at the opening stressed the “continuity, inventiveness, unity, inclusiveness and emphasis on peace and harmony” of Chinese history.

Henry Tang, chairman of the governing body behind the West Kowloon Cultural District (where the Palace Museum is located) and a former candidate for Hong Kong’s top leadership role, said in a statement that the district and museum are looking to “promote cultural and artistic exchanges between China and the world, ‘tell China’s story well’, and strengthen the public’s cultural self-confidence.”

But the narrative that the Shu kingdom was innately Chinese is contentious, according to Ian Johnson, a senior fellow for China Studies at US think tank, the Council on Foreign Relations.

“Over the past few decades, the (Chinese Communist Party) has been trying to push a historical myth that all the peoples who have ever lived inside the current borders of the People’s Republic are ‘Chinese,’” he said over email.

“The basic idea is that the PRC (People’s Republic of China) encompasses people who naturally belong together and therefore, from today’s standpoint, form a nation. Hence any effort to have autonomy or even independence is taboo — it runs against history.”

The People’s Republic of China was established in 1949, and its government has often used China’s continuous history as evidence that ethnic groups such as the Tibetans and the Uyghurs have always belonged to China.

Johnson said that there was little support for the idea that civilizations along the Yellow River had much in common with those in the Sichuan Basin.

“They have commonalities but are not the same — just as ancient Assyrians and Phoenicians and Greeks weren’t the same, even if they shared certain things in common,” he said, adding: “sponsoring these kinds of exhibitions are popular and win the government credit.”

When asked to comment, the Hong Kong Palace Museum said the exhibition was “curated based on academic and archaeological research” and that it reinforces its mission to deepen audiences’ “understanding of the lives and cultures of various regions and ethnic groups as well as exchanges among them in ancient China, which have contributed to the magnificence of China’s civilization and its ‘diversity in unity’ pattern of development.”

By Christy Choi.

31 notes · View notes

everybodyknows-everybodydies · 7 months

Text

The site had just been marked as a passing reference in one of the numerous incomplete texts in Shalidor’s own hand (not always legible, as the great mage—and she has very tactfully not said this aloud to Urag—had atrocious penmanship), which is why she hadn’t come expecting much the first time. Most of the places mentioned in Shalidor’s notes either no longer exist or are long since emptied, by age or by adventurers who don’t know anything about good conservation technique and insist on leaving their own journals all over the place with barely a page or two filled. She imagines whoever is bookbinding for these adventurers must run a surprisingly lucrative business.

This particular site, being potentially important (please let it be important), has earned a second visit after an impassioned dual presentation that the Archmage politely listened to about a nonsequential quarter of between extended bouts of contemplating the steam from his tea, should one be inclined to a generous estimate.

“This is it, then?” Tolfdir huffs out a breath and lowers his pack to the ground in a relatively dry patch, peering with interest at the mostly-buried structure before them. “I do so love a good excavation, it must be said. How did you get in the first time?”

“Well—” Kharish tests the dirt with the toe of her boot. Not too muddy, under the snow, as long as they’re careful. “Took some digging.” She drops into a crouch, tilts her head, squints. She’d covered up the entrance when she’d left last time to try to keep the interior as undisturbed as possible, not expecting to have to uncover it again herself. “Over there, I think—I couldn’t get to the door, but something knocked a hole in there that did drop down into what looked like the main entry passage.”

“Fascinating,” says Tolfdir, clapping his hands together. “Shall we?”

She goes first, because it’s more of a drop than she remembered and she does not want to know what happens to her career trajectory if he breaks an ankle. A smattering of dislodged dust and dirt dribbles from the lip of the hole in the ceiling when she looks up, arms held out and knees braced. “Rea—ack.” His satchel smacks into her temple and she blinks a brief burst of stars out of her eyes. He is unexpectedly sturdy. Maybe she could have let him go first after all.

“Thank you,” he says cheerfully, righting himself and starting down the dark hall, magelight already hovering over his shoulder. “They don’t put much padding on these floors, do they? Notes for future tomb-builders, let’s say.”

Kharish ducks under a low-hanging cobweb. “Future, er… I thought you said these kinds of tombs weren’t still being built?”

“Not at all,” Tolfdir pauses to inspect a relief, nose nearly against the stone. “But wouldn’t it be nice if they were? The use of a hall of the dead has been much more prevalent than a tomb barrow for—oh, ages now.” He seems pleased by whatever he needed to sniff from the wall and steps back again, brushing off his hands. “Eras, even! Why, I should tell you, it’s gone through several renovations of course, but the Windhelm hall of the dead, for example, is quite the historical treat. In fact, records dating back to the second era seem to indicate—”

She remembers abruptly that Urag specifically warned her, stressing the timeframe of once they’d arrived, not to ask Tolfdir about tombs. Or their architecture. You’ll never get him to stop, he’d said seriously, rubbing at the bridge of his nose the way he does when he’s been wearing his glasses too long, and you can’t afford distraction in there because we may not get another chance at this one. Do not let him talk about the tombs.

“What do you know about Ulfsild?” she interrupts—which is all she can think of right now, a little jittery, with the mental note to ask him again about the Windhelm hall of the dead on the way back to Winterhold to make up for the interruption—and hesitates a moment to slide an ajar coffin lid closed as gently as she can.

Tolfdir hums thoughtfully. She hadn’t expected it to work so well, but he says, “Oh, no more than the average scholar, I suppose. Not quite more than the name. It’s rather exciting, isn’t it? Another thing to love about these old places; every one holds some grand new discovery that could alter our understanding of the world as we know it.” He adjusts the strap of his satchel on his shoulder and continues, gesturing for her to take the lead now that he’s done studying the bas-relief. “It didn’t sound like you and Urag had gotten very far in the journal transcription; had you come across anything of note yet?”

It’s always better to be cautious about things that aren’t certain—if she were to allow herself to be a little reductive, she would say that history is nothing but context, and an asyndetic text, even a primary source, requires a degree of speculation that, applied too liberally, can often be worse than useless. And it’s not really quite her field anyway: she repairs the books. What’s inside, she’s still discovering, is often more questions than answers. “It’s a possibility,” Kharish acknowledges finally. There’s a narrow stairway; she turns sideways, awkward, to descend. “The back two-thirds looked much more esoteric, but the first section appeared to be fairly detailed notes on the construction of Eyevea. From what I saw of the relevant entries, her discussion suggested more of a—technical familiarity—than Urag says is typically believed she would have had.”

“I see! Yes, I believe I recall he told me their separation occurred during the whole Eyevea ordeal. Very sad, isn’t it?” he muses. “Scholars of the same discipline should never get too involved. Think how many good academic arguments would be discouraged if the participants risked upending their home lives!”

“Well, I don’t know about that; being able to articulate a distinction between your home life and your academic life should be a priority if you’re really invested in the preservation of both aspects of the relationship, but even so, incompatible personalities will probably always find something to—hang on, this one,” she cuts herself off, stopping before an arch marked with a stylized owl and going for her little notebook. The hollow eyes glare down at her. She squints back at them and then compares it to the unflattering scribble in her notes. “Yes. This one.”

“Ah!” Tolfdir peers up at it, redirecting his magelight to shift the shadows. A fistful of dust from overhead smatters into his hair. Kharish reaches up absently to ruffle the debris out of her own hair, waiting. The faint dust cloud that results drifts downward, glittering faintly in the magelight, and dissipates. “The owl of Jhunal—not as popular as Kyne’s hawk, as bird imagery goes, but no less significant for it. Did you know, when associated with a specific mage, the configuration of the feathers is thought to represent the school the mage specialized in—”

Scrambling for something to write with in her bag, she shakes her notebook to a fresh page. “Wait, wait, wait—really? Which feathers? What would this one represent?”

“Hmm,” he says, thoughtful. And then, again, “Hmm.” He puts a hand to his chin, gesturing with the other to move the magelight once more. “I can’t say it looks to be one of the established schools of magic. The barring on the tail is quite destruction, but the chiselwork across the shoulders more closely resembles the iconography for alteration. And the head! Difficult to make out, but it doesn’t look right at all. You know, I do wish we’d thought to bring a stepping-stool.”

She pauses, staring at the owl. If it were a flat carving they could take a rubbing and look at it later in better light, perhaps; beveled as it is though, the distortion of a rubbing might obscure or alter some small important detail. “Can you draw?”

“Oh, well,” says Tolfdir, stroking his beard modestly, “I won’t be asked to paint in Solitude any time soon, certainly, but I have been known to—doodle, as it were. On occasion. One must have hobbies, after all.”

---

Which is how he ends up on her shoulders, carefully copying the owl into her notes.

“The iconography really is all over the place,” he muses. “It will be worth reviewing my references once we get back, I believe. Most fascinating!”

“I’m sure it’ll be a—” He can’t see her, but she valiantly struggles to maintain a straight face anyway, on principle. “—hoot.”

The scrtch of paper pauses overhead as he laughs, sudden and delighted. “Yes, of course! I’ll be certain to gather, ah, owl the material required.”

“Ha! —whoops, sorry—” The laugh pitches him backwards with an oop!; she bites back her grin, standing straighter and rebalancing him. “If all else fails we may have to wing it.”

“Oh, no,” he says gravely, “that would be academically irresponsible.” When she sets him down, though, there’s a twinkle in his eye as he returns her notes. “Here you are: one mysterious owl, rendered to the best of these old hands’ capabilities. Onward, then,” he begins, looking preemptively pleased with himself; “while we still have a few unruffled feathers each.”

Her laughter rings out with an echo down the hall ahead of them. The dust that falls loose from the ceiling lands light as snow.

---

The room is just as she left it, mostly: the loose jaw of the skeleton in the sarcophagus at the center of the room has dropped to tangle with the collarbones. “Sorry,” Kharish whispers to the skull, gingerly lifting the mandible pieces back into place, pressing a touch of sticking shield to the joint with her thumb. It will almost certainly fall apart again, but not, at least, while they’re here. To Tolfdir, she says aloud, “There shouldn’t be anything new—I took the journal from the mouth, three pieces in worse shape from the shelf, and a rubbing of the inscription at the base of the platform.”

He has his nose poked rapturously into an urn when she turns around. “Funerary oils,” he says by way of explanation; “they vary slightly depending on region, era, belief—” A beat. He sniffs it again. “Decidedly floral,” he says, thoughtful. “Though gone quite stale, of course.”

There isn’t anything new, as predicted. She generally leaves the grave goods alone. No need to bother with anything that can’t be read or transcribed or translated. The dead should be allowed to keep whatever artefacts of life they have left, when they can; the ones that have opinions on the matter historically tend to agree on this. Much of what’s here, Kharish thinks, seems puzzlingly unimportant, as far as things left in tombs go. A cracked alchemical retort, bits of glass around the base, next to three also-smashed empty bottles. A plain, tarnished metal ring at the bottom of half a mug. A regular, if rotten, stick that (she checked) has no magical resonance whatsoever.

Checking through the shelves up against the wall for anything of interest, she pauses at a small metal figure of a wolf, on its side behind a cup and laid atop a disintegrating scarf. Cruder than an artisan’s rendition would be, with the tell-tale prick about it of something that’s been shaped with magic. The back of the head and the base of its ears have been worn smooth, as though by the meditative rubbing of a fingertip. Careful, she takes the wolf—small and disconcertingly cool in her palm. For Mara or for Ulfsild herself, she wonders. She can’t say it in any official capacity, as it’s a sentimental and unacademic thought, but it’s cute. And the soft shape of the ears and the tilt of the head do seem to invite touch.

No maker’s mark on it, though. Made then by someone who didn’t make a habit of magic metalworking? She sets the wolf upright on the scarf again, the clink of little inexpertly-shaped metal paws on the shelf muffled. It’s the only thing like itself in the room. Broken glass, broken dishes, dried-out inkpots, a rotting scarf, and a wolf. And lots of dust and dirt, but that’s a given.

Too many questions, really. She wipes her palms on her thighs and turns back to the center of the room. “What do you make of the epitaph?”

“A bit more hostile than epitaphs tend to be, curiously.” Tolfdir sets down a lens he’d been inspecting and nods back to the sarcophagus, peering at the plaque again. He threads his fingers through his beard in contemplation. “It’s rather—well, the person leaving the inscription clearly wishes regret upon the, ah, entombed, expressing triumph at outliving her, with some rather colorful language and a consumptive metaphor; though I’m not quite clear why.”

“A consumptive—oh,” she says; then, again, “oh.” The notes left pointedly wedged between the teeth. Hand to her mouth, she looks from him to the empty eye sockets of the skull. “—eat your words.”

#writing tag #Kharish gra-Shatul #FIELD TRIP TIME. FINALLY #clocking in at just over 2200 words whoops

33 notes · View notes

winter-dayz · 7 months

Text

Bringer of Death

Pairing: Shin Yuna x Reader Mummy AU; Inspired by The Mummy (1999) Genre: Angst; Fluff Words: 3278 Warnings: implied major character death; implied suicide; strong language

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

This was your chance. This expedition would cement your place with the company’s excavation team. It was your shot to be taken seriously—to be seen as a real archaeologist and not a junior bookkeeper.

You made it to the dig site without much fanfare, a recently uncovered tomb that had just barely been breached. The original finders’ team gave up the excavation, opening the site to bids with historical societies. Your company won the bid, but since the more senior archaeologists were working on several other big projects across Egypt, China, Peru, and Mexico, you were tasked with the small, newly opened excavation.

As you trekked down the steep, crumbling stone stairs to the tomb’s entrance, you passed by the few remaining archaeologists from the original team. You nodded to them politely, skirting past, but were stopped short by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you…” The last man in the small group whispered harshly. He looked up to his team members, all of whom glanced at you before rapidly looking away. They refused to meet your confused eyes.

You nodded politely, again, and had to yank your wrist from his tight grasp. “I think I’ll be fine with a few bones and dust. It should be a simple excavation, really.”

It really should. Why this team had chosen to give up a brand new find baffled everyone at your company, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. This could be your big break.

“I’m tellin’ you, girlie. There’s something in that tomb. Something that don’t want us messin’ with it.” He gritted out. His eyes were wild, and as he reached to grab your arm again, you hustled down several more steps.

“Well, if I get turned into a mummy. You’ll be the first one I’m coming after.” You spat back at the aggressive man.

🎃

Contrary to what that man had warned you about, the tomb seemed to be mostly empty. Honestly, it was no wonder your company managed to snag the bid for so low.

After descending the stairs, an archway opened into a large empty stone room. There were two rooms off of the main room, filled with dust and grime. There were a few pedestals as if items were meant to be displayed, but there weren’t any actual artifacts. Maybe the previous team had looted them…

So, what was the point of this job, anyway? You were hoping this would’ve been your big breakthrough, but it was so barren, there wasn’t really anything to work with.

You meandered through the desolate rooms anyway, inspecting the stone work. Based on the uneven amounts of dust on the pedestals, it did seem that there used to be something perched on them, but it had still been many, many years since those items would’ve been stolen so it hadn’t been the original team like you��d previously thought. More likely raiders from a few decades ago at least.

What really threw you for a loop was one wall in the main room. You could swear you heard shuffling and felt a breeze behind a small section. You leaned in, noticing again how the grime on the stones seemed uneven, and pushed on those bricks.

A click. A rumble. The wall slid up.

Now this was the kind of thing you were hoping for. A secret room? It was just like The Mummy. Maybe you really would find something “scary” in a hidden room and that crazed man from before would’ve been proven right. It’d at least be more exciting than the dust you had been observing so far.

You wandered through the secret passage, which seemed to slope at a gentle downwards spiral. Eventually, you saw the flickering of candles through an open archway. You had no time to wonder who would be keeping the candles lit though when as soon as you crossed the arch’s threshold, you found yourself staring into the eyes of a woman.

She sat, straight and confident, upon a throne at the back of the room.

Around her neck were layers and layers of expensive looking chains and jeweled talisman necklaces; even her clothing seemed to be of the quality of linens and silks you couldn’t find just anywhere. Between the two of you laid a large, majestic sarcophagus. Vases, gems, silver and gold all laid about, overflowing around the room. And the kicker? Everything looked pristine. Not a speck of dirt, dust, or grime on anything. Even the stonework and murals on the walls looked as fresh as the day they would’ve been created.

The woman, young and beautiful, kept her big, round eyes narrowed on you as you took in the state of your surroundings with obvious confusion. She was a bit pale, which was understandable if she’d been trapped in this tomb since the previous team left—which had to be the only way she was here, right?

“Who are you? What are you doing in my domain?” The strange woman demanded, finally breaking your engrossment of everything.

Your eyes wide and head tilted in confusion. What were you doing here, no, what was she doing here? You assumed she must’ve been trapped and abandoned by the previous team, but then… How did she even get into this room? It had been sealed by a secret wall. The stones you had pressed to uncover it had been undisturbed. Also, if she had been abandoned accidentally, why didn’t she seem scared or hungry? Why was she just as luxurious and pristine as everything else in the room, despite the rest of the tomb being so dirty?

You finally found your words through the endless stream of questions racking your brain. “My name is Y/N. I’m an archaeologist.”

“Speak plainly, peasant.” The woman kept her eyes narrowed and tilted her chin up to look at you down her nose. “What is your purpose here?”

How much more “plain” could you speak? Didn’t she know what an archaeologist is? “I…” You hesitated to find your wording, “I’m like a librarian.”

“Are you here to steal from me?”

“No!” You shouted, appalled. While some companies took things from archaeological digs to sell to museums or rich snobs, yours did not. It worked to document the history and culture before returning the items to a pristine, preserved condition that remained with the original country. “I’m a scholar, not a treasure hunter.”

“So you have come here to study?”

“Um… yeah.” This was insane. Maybe you actually should’ve listened to that man’s warnings.

“What year is it? I am surprised by a woman scholar.” What year is it? My god, how long had she been trapped? You flinched but told her the date regardless. “Ah, well I’m glad to see humans have progressed.”

She stood from her throne and bowed politely. “I am Shin Yuna. This is my tomb.”

Holy shit. It really is like The Mummy.

🎃

To say you believed Yuna was the owner of the tomb would’ve been a gross misconception.

After being welcomed in by someone claiming to be a thousands-year-old woman, you acted politely and kept a six foot distance at all times, only gazing over the objects and not even truly studying anything.

You left early that day with the excuse that you didn’t have proper equipment.

And then the rug was ripped out from under you when you dug into the town’s local history and the country’s governmental archives.

Shin Yuna was the most revered princess in the country’s history… From 2000 years ago. Despite it not being a woman’s place at the time, she was a fierce warrior and intelligent scholar. The texts spoke of her love for crafting clothes and storytelling as well. She was an all-around enlightened and beloved woman of the area.

Unfortunately, she was killed in a surprise attack on one of the villages she had been visiting. She died protecting the children and mothers during the raid.

To show their admiration and deep grief at the loss of their princess, it was said the country performed a ritual when burying her in the tomb. She was put to rest with great treasures and supposed magical items to help her move on peacefully if she felt her duty was completed; however if Yuna’s spirit felt she had not accomplished enough, she would rise again to lead her people once more.

And it seemed to have worked.

As did the seal on the door to protect her ritual burial… Just, maybe that seal had worked a bit too well, since she hadn’t left her tomb in 2000 years.

Which definitely showed when you came back around to start working.

Yuna was insatiable for knowledge, and for days on end while you were carefully observing and cataloging the items in the tomb, she would ask questions. She wanted to know all about how the world had changed, evolved, and adapted. She wanted to know about how her country had blossomed. She wanted to know the things you had seen when you had traveled, the kinds of art and fashion in style throughout the centuries. She wanted to know if stories were still being told about her villages… which is when you had to disappoint her and tell her that, until recently when her tomb had been discovered, no one widespread had really known much of her people.

She hated that. It put her in a bad mood, and she began sulking.

You kinda hated that. Yuna, for essentially a mummy and immortal woman who had been trapped for an unimaginable amount of time, was such a bubbly person. To see her upset didn’t sit right with you, but there wasn’t much you thought you could do to fix it.

Until one afternoon it boiled over when you began actually moving items around to see the smaller artifacts.

“You can’t just go rifling through my things!” Yuna shouted, more of a whine than in anger, following closely behind you as you carefully moved a vase. “Have you no respect for the dead?”

You sighed, “Yuna, it’s literally my job. I have to catalog what has been discovered. Look, I’m being extremely careful and respectful. ” You added a muttered, “You’re not even really dead,” under your breath.

Yuna huffed, her cute lips pouting. Cute? Well… yes, she did look rather cute pouting like that even if you wish she wasn’t so upset recently… “Why do you even need to do that?” She mumbled through cute, pouty lips.

“So that we can teach and learn from your history.”

Her eyes brightened, and her lips split into a big grin. It was such a simple thing to you, just a part of your job. But, apparently, it was just the right thing to pull Yuna out of her funk. “You’ll tell stories about me and my people? Okay, then rifle away!”

Fuck, she’s adorable.

🎃

Something of a friendship blossomed between you and the former princess. Although, neither of you could deny the obvious attraction that grew as well.

You didn’t think “flirting” was a thing when Yuna was properly alive, but she was damn good at it, regardless.

You, on the other hand, were awkward. Like a little bird trying to impress, you brought her modern-day gifts and things to try. When she expressed her fascination with your manicure, you brought her nail polishes in all different colors to try. She loved the soft, subtle pinks the most. When you had an extra long day planned, you went and got pizzas. She didn’t need to eat, but she appreciated the new flavors anyway. When she talked about how much she used to love to sew and try new clothes, you brought her magazines. She had really loved your talks about art and fashion before so when she saw pictures, she was ecstatic.

And you… You felt a certain amount of pride in having brought such a big smile to such a beautiful face. You felt a warmth in your belly at the way her hand would gently caress your shoulder in thanks for a gift. You felt a dizziness when she would stand just a little bit closer to you and exchange stories and knowledge…

🎃

“Death is only the beginning…” You whispered out, polishing the stone.

Yuna looked up from where she was painting her nails. “Hm? What did you say, precious?”

You blushed, still unused to the nickname she had adopted for you, looking over your shoulder to the beautiful woman. She met your eyes with a playful glint. Even when you turned away, you knew she was watching you work. “Oh nothing… I was just reading the inscription on your sarcophagus. It’s a bit ominous, don’t you think?”

When you looked back to her, after she remained silent for a moment, you caught her shrugging nonchalantly. “I was trying to be optimistic, actually. Hopes for the afterlife to be paradise and all that.”

“Well, it kind of sounds foreboding.”

“Well, yeah, it was to stop tomb raiders too. They need to think there’s a curse here,” Yuna giggled softly.

“Curse, my ass.” You mumbled getting back to work.

Your new… friend might be a mummy. Magic might be real. But you’d be damned if you thought anything in this place was cursed.

Yuna paused in her painting, hopping down from where she perched on the throne and coming to lean against the sarcophagus. “You don’t believe in curses?”

“I didn’t say that. You’re real and alive… Kind of… So I’m sure curses are too. But, I can’t find it in me to believe that you would’ve actually cursed anything here.” You paused, pulling off your gloves. “Your plan to make outsiders believe this place is cursed is working, though, you know. I was at a bar one town over the other night, and this guy was so insistent to warn me away. ‘There is a creature in those depths. The Bringer of Death. It will never eat. Never sleep. Never stop.’ A superstitious drunk if I’ve ever seen one. He definitely didn’t believe that the tomb was a couple empty, dirty rooms like I countered with.”

Yuna and you tried to stare each other down but easily broke into giggles. You leaned against the sarcophagus, which you’re sure would make your boss spiral into a fit if they saw, and nudged her playfully.

Eventually, she sighed out, “Well, I am no man, and I care not for ‘bringing death,’ but that drunkard was right that I cannot sleep or eat. A shame too, I really enjoyed that pizza you brought me, precious.”

🎃

You don’t really know how you got here.

Logically, it made sense. Yuna and you had been dancing around each other, making heart eyes, for days.

But you hadn’t fathomed it would culminate in her soft lips against yours.

She held you firmly, despite her gentle disposition, refusing to let you move away for even a second to breathe. One hand grasped your waist, teasing to inch south and caress your backside, while the other trailed up your own arm. Her nails grazed lightly, soothingly, against your bare flesh and sent chills up your spine in the most pleasurable way.

You really couldn’t believe this was happening.

Yuna finally pulled away, only a hair’s breadth, to allow you to gasp in oxygen. You sighed as she ran her nose along yours, both of you with fluttering eyes and small smiles. Her grasp on you didn’t falter; one hand holding your waist firmly, the other now cupping your neck sweetly.

“Jesus, princess,” You spoke softly, leaning your forehead to hers. “You literally stole my breath away.”

Yuna hummed and rubbed her nose back and forth against yours affectionately. “If I could have it my way, I’d steal all of you and keep you here forever, precious.”

You both giggled, but yours trailed off as one of her talisman necklaces caught your eye.

It was mesmerizing, and you pulled away a bit further to get a better view. Your own hand, of which both had been wrapped around Yuna’s neck, trailed down to lift the stone.

“This amulet… There are legends about it…” You finally spoke again, still breathless. Both from the kiss and from the beautiful, opalescent gem resting between the two of your chests.

“Oh, really?” Yuna asked, sounding distracted. She would always indulge in your stories though, even if she was obviously eyeing your lips and thinking of other things. “Like what?”

“It’s rumored to have the power to bring the dead to life. I’ve heard, recently actually, of a treasure hunter searching for it. He wants to resurrect his wife.”

“We’ll make sure that we don’t bring anyone back from the dead then…” Yuna kissed your cheek, seeing the way you tilted your head at her in teasing disbelief. “Okay, well anyone else.” She smiled smally.

🎃

“The hunter you spoke of. He broke into the tomb last night.”

That was the last thing you wanted to be greeted with. “What!? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he steal the amulet?”

“Thankfully, he did not discover the hidden door to this sanctum. Both I and the amulet are safe for now… The powers bestowed on me through these talismans allow me to see who crosses the threshold and inflict whatever hallucination and emotion I deem fit. When you first entered, your aura felt safe. Hungry, which I now know was for knowledge, but safe.” Yuna smiled at you, before it fell into a scowl. “This man, though… His aura felt like those that were here before you. Greedy, selfish, dark. Like them, I used my abilities to inflict a foreboding feeling of doom and death and hallucinations of the shadows enclosing. His resolve was stronger than theirs had been, I fear.”

“What do we need to do, princess?”

She smiled again, this time wistfully. “Not we… I.” Yuna removed the opalescent talisman from her neck. “You will take the unenchanted and non-magical artifacts with you today. I know you finished cataloging days ago anyway… I want you to tell stories about me and my people. I want everyone to know that the people of this country descend from a resilient ancestry full of magic and ferocity and brilliance. I want the little girls, especially, to know they can be a warrior and a scholar.” She breathed, her eyes watery. “You will do this. You will tell these stories and be successful and alive. And I will destroy this amulet and collapse the tomb. I will die along with this dangerous magic, but I will die having completed my duty in keeping my people safe.”

Your eyes widened, full of tears, at her words. “I don’t want to lose you! You’re… you’re my friend, princess.”

Yuna sniffled, holding back her own sobs with a joke, “Well, you cannot stay. I’m almost positive that would kill you. Lack of air and all…” She leaned in slowly to kiss the tear tracks from your cheeks. “Besides, it would get dull rather quickly when I am put to eternal rest.”

You nodded, slowly packing up your things. Yuna had taken the liberty to stack the artifacts into your wagon before you even arrived. “I’m going to miss you…”

“I’m sorry it must end this way, but I did enjoy our brief time together.” Yuna took off one of her other precious necklaces, clasping it around your neck before you left the chamber. “I guess I did turn out to be the Bringer of Death… Just, it is my own.”

#itzy #shin yuna #reader #shin yuna x reader #itzy x reader #angst #fluff #mummy au #the mummy 1999 #oneshot #fictober

20 notes · View notes

thatlittleegyptologist · 1 year

Note

Burial practices anon here, thank you so much for your help!

My nephew is an autistic young adult (like me) (sorry for not clarifying properly, my family isn't used to sorting information by age) so we usually have to chew through things together before really getting a grip on what was meant.

(No pressure to read or respond to the rest of this, I just need to ramble a little, sorry)

He was very confused by the idea that a population could believe in an afterlife, but only for one person who isn’t them- the article he read implied that, before pharaoh-like burials trickled down to lower classes, there was no afterlife expected for any of the common people.

The main takeaway I'm getting from this new info is that there is a difference in being "reborn as an Osiris" (Pharaohs only originally, do not steal) and "getting an afterlife where you can receive offerings" (for anyone with the money to preserve a body and make offerings). Meaning there was some sort of afterlife available to everyone… but if you weren’t the pharaoh, the quality depended on price, and a very poor person might not get any sort of proper burial or offerings, and so miss out on a nice afterlife all together? Or, not be able to secure a 'position' in the afterlife?

I wasn’t much help to my nephew when he asked for help because my understanding is that it’s almost universally common for pre-historic humans to, when they did bury their dead, include offerings of food or objects with the body.

Do all of these imply belief in an afterlife, or were some of them just done as a way to let the grieving friends and family of the deceased do something for their lost loved ones one last time? It doesn’t seem like there’s a clear cut way to tell, in many cases. I’m assuming the issue is the same in prehistoric Egypt, and that could muddy things in predynastic Egypt as well?

Sorry for rambling, thank you again for taking the time to help! I’ll share your answer and the links with my nephew. He’s been on an Egypt bend for a good year now (still hasn’t returned the “Laundry Lists and Love Songs” book I lent him, bought on your recommendation, which was great fun many thanks), and really is getting frustrated with all the outdated or mixed up information he’s had to slog through.

I'm afraid being an aunt doesn't automatically make me much better and sorting through it than he is, but it's interesting stuff, so who can complain?

Thank you again. Stay well!

Ok, so some of these I can resolve pretty quickly:

The details of the King's afterlife probably wouldn't be known to many. Only 2% of people can read, so they're not looking at the texts that accompany him and it'd be really none of their business unless they're involved in the construction of his tomb. In the Old Kingdom, the King was viewed as a god, so 'a god' having a separate afterlife to the regular populace wouldn't be seen as weird. Especially considering that he doesn't 'die' but simply leaves this plain of existence to join with the rest of the gods.

Quality of the afterlife is in no way dependant on the cost of burial. All Egyptians entered the same afterlife: the Field of Reeds (Aaru). A peasant and a noble would go to the same place; the only thing that's different is that the noble will have made a big shiny tomb talking about their accomplishments and have more offerings.

Not getting an afterlife hinges on a persons behaviour when they were alive. There are such things known as The Negative Confessions, which also start life out in texts reserved just for the king and then filter down to the public. This happens due to a change in how the King was viewed from the Old Kingdom through to the Middle Kingdom. The First Intermediate Period, which is the period between these two, was extremely chaotic, and many men declared themselves King and the concept of 'King as deity on earth' becomes very diluted. As such, things that were for the King only work their way into general use, as the nobles use them, and then regular people begin to use the. I can't really go through the complex changes of the Socio-Political-Religious situation without writing far more than could or should be written here.

A 'proper' burial is less about 'what's with you' and more about 'is the body intact and proper procedures followed'

There is a definite belief in the afterlife. How much they believed in it is subject to debate (lamentation texts show there were clear doubts as to whether an afterlife existed), but that could easily be said of people now. The Egyptians would not have done what they did if they didn't in some way believe it to be true.

Uhh with Pre-Historic Egypt, we don't know a huge amount, only that with Pre-Dynastic Egypt some things are already fairly set in stone (reed buildings/fertility statues/fetishes (religious)). Many origins within the religion we cannot trace because they occur before hieroglyphs, basically.

I'm glad he enjoyed McDowell's book!

36 notes · View notes

mythical-donut · 11 months

Text

Akatsuki no Yona Chapter 242 questions part 2: The dragons. What exactly happened to them and where did they go? Where is the Chalice and is Chagol truly dead?

I decided to put both these topics in the same post because they might be closely related. This is going to be a super long post so if you like to read, come here.

In recent chapters three of the dragons apparently outright turned into actual dragons, went on a rampage attacking South Kai soldiers, then disappeared literally into thin air. I find it interesting that we weren’t actually shown the scene when this transformation was triggered.

The key distinction being that they did not leave their human bodies behind when the dragons activated. So it looks like they legit turned into actual dragons this time. With what Kyouga saw anyway. They seemed a weird mix between physical and metaphysical. Then they go and disappear in a flash of light. Where did they go? Teleport to another part of the country? In spiritual limbo? Visit to the heavenly plane? One can only speculate.

I also find it interesting that Yona being in mortal danger wasn’t the trigger this time. They’ve been far away and fatigued before, so what changed? Well we didn’t see how so we don’t know yet.

This leads the question of the Chalice and Chagol. Chagol is supposedly dead, and the Chalice mysteriously missing? Coincidence? Is it related to the 3 going haywire and disappearing too?

The Chalice

Let’s talk about the existence of the Chalice first. We know it’s the instrument all the original dragons warriors used to drink the blood offered by the Dragon Gods from. We see a single image of it from the original origin story.

When first hearing about the chalice being taken, I didn’t know how to feel about it. The importance of the chalice was never mentioned before. It just seemed like a random nice-looking cup in the picture just so the warriors can drink from it. But apparently it’s this super important artifact that is actually ‘the source’ of their power. It was the thing in Hiryuu castle that powered them. And if moved, the range of their constitution and power moves too.

Maybe Kusanagi just wrote the idea of the chalice being significant only recently. It’s kind of this guess I have. But I think she always intended to address the exact source of their power or more of the mechanism behind it, just didn’t decide what exactly it was. (I think we all assumed it was Hiryuu’s tomb or remains -though as a side note the Dromos couldn’t access it, there might be some significance there still).

About the mechanics of how the Chalice works I just have a guess. I don’t know if ‘source’ is the accurate term for it per se. The actual source of their power is the Dragon Gods themselves, no? The Dragon Gods themselves called them ‘extensions’ of themselves and so it is. I think what the cup actually is, is a helpful conduit between the realms. The gods in the heaven realm and the humans in the human realm. Zeno’s medallion is also of similar make I think. It holds a connection to the heavens. Though I don’t think it serves as the ‘tie’ between where the warriors and the gods lie, the Chalice does.

Whether it’s the source or conduit or whatever, the matter is that it is a very important artifact that shouldn’t have been taken from Hiryuu castle and mishandled by humans. Bad and unexpected things can happen when tampered with something like that.

Chagol. And Kai lore

Now let’s talk about Chagol. The Kai empire has a Phoenix symbol of the country like Kouka has the dragon symbol. Except with Kouka, the dragon gods are real and the legends are true. We’ve speculated if there is any true legends on the Kai side regarding a Phoenix. My impression so far are that probably not. Or not exactly to the level of rival Phoenix Warriors running around or something lol.

What I did find interesting was the legend about lake Shinsui and the fact that Kai and Kouka historically weren’t separate countries and some lore was shared after all. Well Hiryuu made his capital in what is now Kuuto of Kouka so much of his work was centralized there. So I think much of the accuracy of the tales was centralized there as well. But I have always wondered about that lake even before this intel. It’s a massive lake on a map of the region we have seen many times. And Shinsui literally means god lake (神水). We have yet to visit such a place, so I’m thinking it does hold some divine significance, just not in the way said by the Kai officials. Some food for thought.

Back to Chagol. I’m not alone to theorize wildly of phoenixes and rebirth while holding a divine artifact as he literally talks about being reborn. I’ve seen some speculation about it. The oddness is too hard to ignore. While I do believe he was found dead (confirmed by the scouts), the Chalice is mysteriously missing! At the same time the 3 dragons go haywire and also later disappear. Chagol and Ra-an were the only ones there for miles it looked like. What happened to it? Kija is certainly not happy to hear about that. Were there dromos stalking them to take it, or some random passerby? Or did something more supernatural happen? Like Chagol using it to revive like a phoenix with powers? What happens when you die with that cup in your hand? Those are the wildest spitball theories however, and we don’t have enough evidence for it.

A lot of people think the disruption of the Chalice is what helped trigger the 3 dragons going full dragon mode and psychically crying in a way Yona can hear. So I might call it a disruption in the ‘dragon force’ lol. It is even speculated Soowon’s illness kicking in again so quickly despite the senjuusou is also related to this disruption.

If so, why didn’t it happen to Kija too? I’m not sure. Maybe the chalice is unrelated after all and because we didn’t see what happened to cause the other 3 to turn, we just can’t tell. Or maybe Kija wasn’t physically stressed enough for it to happen. Though I suspect it might happen to him too and he will join the other 3 in this chaos. Why? Well Yona’s scary premonition of seeing 3 dragons, Soowon and Meinyan dead. That dragon power shortening their lifespan would certainly lead to their earlier than -even the already early- expected lifespan of 3 dragon warriors. And if the crimson illness is also connected, that too.

Could this all be the start of the lead-up to the prophecy? Or am I speaking too soon? Is the true ‘gathering of the dragons and blood being revived again’ happening now?

Is the ‘darkness that falls on the land’ not just the war but also something supernaturally bad happening? Maybe triggered by the disruption with the Chalice? And what of the Sword and Shield? If so what will be Yona’s BIG decision to avert this tragedy, prevent everyone’s death, and have the ‘Red dragon return at dawn’?

#Akatsuki no Yona #Yona of the dawn #Yona #Chagol #Kai empire #four dragons #suwon #soowon #akayona #prophecy #hak #Kija #shin ah #jae ha #shinah #jaeha #zeno #Yun

22 notes · View notes

dolphin1812 · 1 year

Text

This chapter really reminds me of the barricades, so I don’t think I’ll be able to save that discussion for just one section.

To begin:

“Conscious that they were about to die, they shouted, “Vive l’Empereur!” History records nothing more touching than that agony bursting forth in acclamations.”

Just as at the barricades later on, the men here accept that they’re about to die and welcome that sacrifice as an expression of their political beliefs. “L’Empereur” is exchanged for “la République,” but the attitude remains. Here, though, Hugo specifies that there was “agony” in this cry; even though their decision is glorified to an extent, that decision to face death is still ultimately tragic, and the men making it must have felt fear and despair then.

The use of light in this chapter is also interesting. The barricades are “a tomb all flooded with dawn,” but the battle of Waterloo is dark until sunset, when the light of dusk finally becomes visible. If the barricades are the light of the future, then, Waterloo is the end of an era. At the same time, even the light of dusk illuminates. The actions of those at Waterloo are remembered, even if as part of the past.

This attitude is present at the barricades as well, but it also stresses Hugo’s attention to regular people:

“The soldier in that troop was as much of a hero as the general. Not a man was missing in that suicide.”

The names mentioned in this chapter are mainly famous figures, but Hugo makes sure that the reader knows that every soldier at the battle demonstrated as much courage/skill as the more well-known generals did.

Ney’s fate is also extremely similar to Enjolras’:

“Ney, bewildered, great with all the grandeur of accepted death, offered himself to all blows in that tempest. He had his fifth horse killed under him there. Perspiring, his eyes aflame, foaming at the mouth, with uniform unbuttoned, one of his epaulets half cut off by a sword-stroke from a horseguard, his plaque with the great eagle dented by a bullet; bleeding, bemired, magnificent, a broken sword in his hand, he said, “Come and see how a Marshal of France dies on the field of battle!” But in vain; he did not die. He was haggard and angry. At Drouet d’Erlon he hurled this question, “Are you not going to get yourself killed?” In the midst of all that artillery engaged in crushing a handful of men, he shouted: “So there is nothing for me! Oh! I should like to have all these English bullets enter my bowels!” Unhappy man, thou wert reserved for French bullets!”

Like Enjolras, he keeps fighting furiously and without fear of death, even daring the English to shoot him. Both of them specifically fight with broken weapons at the end as well (Ney with his sword, Enjolras with the barrel of his rifle). Ney isn’t invulnerable in the same way that Enjolras is (he’s wounded), but the fact that he can’t seem to die does lend him a similar quality. His ultimate death (by French firing squad) is the same as Enjolras’ as well, although his is more personally unfortunate in the sense that he would have preferred the battlefield (while Enjolras was resigned to death at the barricades and had a moment of hope before he died).

Of course, the major point of contrast comes from the first line of the chapter: “Every one knows the rest.” Waterloo is one of the most famous battles in European history; les Amis “barely missed becoming historic.” Maybe the specific stories of peasants and shepherds that Hugo includes weren’t well-known, but Waterloo itself, as well as all of these generals, is. The fighters at the barricades were not, with Hugo’s work serving as a call to remember them and to act like them.

#les mis letters #les mis spoilers #lm 2.1.12 #waterloo #marshal ney #enjolras

36 notes · View notes

peakdeer · 2 years

Text

Amaranth and Snowdrops Ch.1 - Begonia

Was rereading Soul-Drawn Hope by DancingLifeBoat and went is anyone gonna weather husbands this? And then didn’t wait for an answer.

I’ll uh. Link that. Cause I used it for inspo and because also it’s very good and you should read it.

Sausage is in the polycule because himb <3 and because I am physically incapable of writing a long fic where he is not one of the main characters. Sue me /j

Thanks to @1-800-crystalball for helping with ideas for the soulmate marks!

Pix had never cared much about soulmates. When he was growing up, soulmates had never been as important as a good education and a plan for your future. He learned to stick to the things he could control, the things he could change and influence.

Soulmates were not one of those things.

He alternated between loving and hating and ignoring the two marks he had on his skin. He’d rather stick to statistics and facts—like the difference between having platonic and romantic soulmate marks, and the likelihood of having more than one soulmate or, even more rare, having more than two.

The marks. He was avoiding them again.

The first was rather interesting, at least to his archeologist heart. It was a skull, located just below his shoulder, with a missing jaw and hollowed-out eye sockets. It was the crisp gray-white of a new skull, but if it was a magic artifact as he suspected, then it could be thousands of years old, perhaps even to the time of the fallen empires. It had a faintly glowing pink gem in one of the sockets that didn’t quite have enough light to allow him to study at night, but at least kept him from stumbling into things. It fascinated him, for more reasons than the historical significance. What kind of soulmate did he have that would have such a mark? Perhaps they were a historian like him. Perhaps they would listen to his rants about the ruins and the fallen empires and everything in between, and actually be interested. Perhaps he would meet them soon, in his guild of archeologists.

Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t find them until he was as old as the ruins he explored. Maybe they’d think his curiosity about the past was silly.

He wouldn’t get his hopes up.

Curiously, the mark had actually changed at one point. Late one night, as he was scrubbing the mud and dirt off of one of the new amulets he’d found in the tomb his family was excavating, the glow around him brightened. It was such a small, insignificant amount that he never would have noticed had it not been for the lack of light and his excessive attention to detail. He’d looked around for the source, and his eyes landed on the mark on his shoulder. It had changed. There was now a gem in the other eye socket, a pretty teal color reminiscent of turquoise but a bit greener. It glowed much less than the other eye, barely making a difference at all. He poked it curiously, already wondering to how it could have changed, and why.

He’d stayed up that night, visiting the library and using his flashlight to search through the books for something that might explain how it had changed. And, the next morning, he brought it up to his parents. Like a fool, he rambled on and on about how it had changed and how little information he’d found about it in the library. To his distress, he was met with blank stares. His mother assured him that it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t important and he didn’t have a right to be curious. His father implored him to keep his focus on his studies so he could get a job, and not focus on this ‘soulmate nonsense’. His brother scoffed at him and his ‘hopelessly romantic’ little ideas.

And he knew that they loved him and wanted the best for him, in their own way. But it hurt. It hurt that they weren’t listening, it hurt that they didn’t care, and most of all, it hurt that they didn’t understand.

But he didn’t want to cause any issues, or any problems that he couldn’t reverse. Because once he said it out loud, he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t control their response. So he became silent, and nodded his head, and agreed with them. And he put the curiosity aside and he didn’t read any more books on it. He studied, like he was supposed to, and he did his homework and he passed his tests, and he got a job like an obedient child.

Because that was life.

He took in a shaky breath to calm himself, brining his fist up to his mouth to muffle a shaky sob. It didn’t matter now, anyway. It didn’t.

The other mark extended across his entire back, growing as he grew, gaining height as he became taller. It was a jungle tree, a kabok tree (Ceiba pentandra), to be exact. Its leafy branches stretched towards his shoulders but stopping just short of them. Vines drooped from his branches like strings, and flowers in every color from gold to white to pink blossomed from the branches. Orchids grew along the tree, competing for space with the ivy. It had a thick trunk and firm-looking bark, and most certainly would have attracted all sorts of animals to live in its branches if it were real.

If it were real, and if the soulmate was real. Sometimes, Pix doubted soulmates existed at all. Not because of evidence, or reasoning, but because he couldn’t imagine a person who would love him, and who he could love back.

He tried to ignore those thoughts, though. And that is why he wore sleeves down to his elbows to hide the skull and never went shirtless, even in the hot weather of some of the excavation sites. It made it easier to ignore the marks, to pretend they weren’t there.

Even when they burned and he could feel them judging him for being a pathetic excuse of a man.

He sighed. He had better things to do than worry about soulmate marks. He always did, but today even more so. He shook his head to clear the thoughts away, leaning down to check the contents of his bag. He’d already packed, only needing one crate to store all his personal belongings. He was never one for sentimental objects, so it was mostly just clothes and books. All his archeological tools fit neatly in his backpack, so he didn’t have to worry about those. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, plucking his cap from its hook and arranging it on his head. He glanced around the room to make sure he’d grabbed everything, which, of course he had.

It was somewhat off-putting to see the room he’d lived in for four years look the exact same as it had when he’d found it. The walls were still the same white, not a mark in sight, and the bed was perfectly made with the exact same sheets. Dust was already settling on the furniture, erasing all trace of his existence.

He didn’t dwell on it, deftly treading down the stairs and to the buggy awaiting him. He’d scored a new position, a quiet and lonesome exploration of an extensive civilization ruins. They’d have dispatched more, but Pix was their best, and most of the historians who were willing to travel weren’t quite willing to travel a thousands and thousands of miles away from their homes and families.

Pix didn’t particularly have either, so he’d been the perfect choice.

He nodded politely to the driver in acknowledgment, climbing into the buggy for the week-long journey to the ruins. He’d brought some books about the new lands, so that he at least and something to do and cold understand the local culture. Most of them were mildly outdated, but he could at least get information on the older ones.

Animalia. A curious empire, it was inhabited by hybrids and hybrid-adjacent beings, including talking animals, anthropomorphic animals, and humans with animal features. Its export was amethyst, which it collected from the mines and used to adorn their cities and garments. Amethyst was heavily used in its culture, particularly as gifts. The true jewel of this empire, however, was Critter City. It was a place for humans and animals alike, where they could walk side by side in a beautiful symbol of unity. The mayor of Critter City was even rumored to be a human!

Glimmergrove. The kingdom had apparently been cursed on the eve on the princess’s birth, with the kingdom falling, the land splitting in fierce earthquakes, buildings crumbling, and the light being drained out of the kingdom, to the point where it is often called Glimmergrave. Even the princess herself appeared to be cursed, if rumors were to be believed. However, Princess Katherine seemed to be doing her best to restore the kingdom, despite the mysteries surrounding her. The tailoring of this kingdom is highly coveted, so the kingdom exports its fine string, wool, and leather, saving the finest of it for special commissions.

Dawn. Led by Princess Gem, Dawn is a very giving kingdom, exporting food to kingdoms in need. Its main export is honeycomb, and as such, bees are very highly viewed. The princess has apparently not changed her title to queen in the hopes that one day, her parents will return from where they have been lost. After so many years, though, it is unlikely. The kingdom worships the sun as a symbol of hope for a new day, though the name of their goddess has been lost to time…

Stratos. This empire is ruled by a god himself, called Joel. This god is very narcissistic and often callous to his worshippers, and the distinction is clear when you visit Stratos. The peasants and humans live below the shadow of Stratos’ magnificent buildings. The export of this empire is gold, of which they have no end. The god who rules this place is not well liked, and his relationships with other empires are rocky at best.

The Goblands. These cavernous tunnels are often crowded and unhygienic, but there are no problems for the goblins that live here. This empire puts emphasis on safety, but does not meet up to its promises in that department. This empire exports rocks of all kinds, as well as overcharged passes to a skeleton farm and the controversy of the sea pickle trade. The goblin leader Fwhip is prone to scamming and pranking other empires, but it is all in good fun. Or, at least, that’s what he says.

Eversea. The Eversea was always a cove for pirates and other sea-dwelling fellows, and was often visited by sirens and mers. The rise of Skeletron and his armies nearly destroyed this place, but the empire is being rebuilt by the brave leadership of Pirate Joe, who had lost his ship and crew to Skeletron.

Tumbletown. Tumbletown was a small empire, not quite an empire, even. It is suspected that it was called an empire simply because that opened the area for trade, and its gunpowder export was needed greatly by the other empires. The people of Tumbletown are few, but they are very fierce and loyal, led by a man known as The Sheriff. The books were unclear on this mysterious figure—some commended his bravery and strength, but others mocked his weakness and his inability to defend himself.

Chromia. This empire is fairly new. Starting as a small series of farming villages that were often taken advantage of for the dyes they sell, they were formed into a true empire by their leader Scott. An odd and eccentric man, he had just appeared one day. He offered to assist after the empire had been put in debt by the fall of Glimmergrove, its greatest trade ally. He rebuilt and strengthened the empire, putting it on the market as a force to be reckoned with.

Perhaps there were more that the book did not include, but he knew of these for now, and that should be enough.

He’d have plenty of time once he got there anyway.

#empires smp #pixlriffs #empiresshipping #weather husbands #I was so tempted to make Sausage’s tree a rainbow eucalyptus ngl #yes I'm making the chapter title a flower #idk how to title things ok #grayscale husbands

25 notes · View notes

filmwuju · 2 years

Text

Some historical records about how special Ui Bin was to Jeongjo

- It was implicitly forbidden for the crown prince to take in a court maid as a consort while the king is still alive. There were lots of previous kings who did it minimally during their crown prince eras in consideration of the reigning king. Technically, all court maids belong to the king (Yeongjo in this case), but Jeongjo still asked Deokim to be his consort when he was still the Crown Prince.

- Consorts were not allowed to meet their family members inside the palace if they weren't government officials, but Deokim was allowed to do so. Jeongjo also wanted to give her brothers money and government posts because they were living in poverty. Aside from that, he wanted to move the tombs of her deceased family to a better place as they were located somewhere undesirable. However, Deokim refused all the above offers.

- The day after their son was born, Jeongjo immediately ordered Junghuidang (Junghui Hall) be built in Changdeok Palace. It served as the East Palace for the prince to live in. He also placed lots of interesting scientific instruments in there (according to OP it's like building your kid a kid's cafe in your house lol).

- Uigye refers to the drawings made to record important occasions of the royal palace. They were not made unless it was about something really grand. Aside from uigye's of the processions & other events relevant to Hwaseong Fortress (in Suwon), which Jeongjo built with the thought of moving the capital to Suwon, the other uigye(s) that were made during Jeongjo's reign were related to Crown Prince Munhyo.

- Jeongjo's study, which was also his residence, was smaller and more worn-out than the usual noblemen's houses, but he refused his mother and the officials' request to build a new one. He said, "(The purpose) of leading a simple life is to save on blessings." It was something Deokim used to say as she lived frugally.

- Gwonchorye, a childbirth rite done by the royal family to pray that the newborn would live a long life without diseases, was usually done on the day a consort gave birth. In Deokim's case, it was done one month before her delivery.

- Their son was made the crown prince when he was 2. In comparison, Jeongjo's successor, Sunjo, was made the crown prince when he was 11, 6 months before Jeongjo's death. There was no uigye made nor East Palace built for Sunjo.

- Jeongjo's residence, Jeongjo's office, Deokim's residence, and Crown Prince Munhyo's residence were all located in one area.

- When Deokim was sick, Jeongjo watched over her when she bathed/washed up. He would even check her medicine when they were being weighed and personally take her medicine packets and bowl.

- After Deokim passed away, Jeongjo did not have people clean out Junghuidang, the hall she used, cleaned out for the next crown prince. He used it as his office and spent most of his time there until his death.

- Deokim and Crown Prince Munhyo had different statuses, so they should not be buried together. However, Jeongjo did just that and had 26,000 trees planted around their tombs. He spent around 200 million KRW equivalent of money to do that and even rewarded the civilians who had planted trees there with their own money. Deokim and Crown Prince Munhyo's shrines were also placed together, which was also against the customs. He picked a site near Changdeok Palace for their shrines and paid around 800 million KRW to make the two officials previously living there move away. Aside from that, the rites they did for Ui Bin followed the standards of the rites for consorts who had given birth to kings. She was the only one given that treatment in the entire history of Joseon.

- In May 1790, Jeongjo stayed up all night at her shrine.

(source 1) (source 2) (source 3)

#the red sleeve #trs trans

80 notes · View notes

alovesongshewrote · 3 years

Text

Almost A Thousand Years - Killahead, Part 2 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: B A T T L E

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS KIDS!!!!! also, i swear to god this was written a month ago, before aaron confirmed the skulls and wizards thing

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman @tales-of-hisirdoux @blixeon @yagirlcheesely

It was about as surreal as you thought it would be.

As a child you were trained to fight; to stab, to slice, to claw, and to bleed. You were taught that humans were the root of all evil and that the Gumm-Gumms would one day take what was theirs. Now you were fighting with the humans, the evil, the oppressors, against what had been your home, your people.

And it was going surprisingly well. It turns out having insider knowledge is very helpful on the battlefield. You were able to block everything they threw at you, to dodge and weave through their attacks and land some pretty good hits of your own. Douxie had your back, of course, blue light striking down as many opponents as it could take. In return, you took out anything that even threatened to get too close.

It was going well. But it didn’t last.

“WHERE IS THE WITCH SPY?”

“Oh no.”

“(Y/N), stay behind me,” Douxie’s voice was a dull hum against the roar around you, and of course, the screaming troll in front of you.

“JOIN YOUR BROTHERS AGAINST THIS PATHETIC ARMY!!”

“Oh god.”

Douxie noticed the fact that you weren’t even close to listening to him and took action, moving in front of you, striking any Gumm-Gumm soldier who even looked your way.

“RETURN HOME (Y/N) (L/N)!”

So, that was it. That was what had kept you in the dark as a traitor for at least a hundred years. The very sentence that made you avoid Britain with all your strength. The thing that drove a wedge between you and the man you now loved.

Four words were all it took.

“(Y/N)?? (Y/N), love, please, answer me!”

You jerked your head, snapping back to reality. No matter what events were relevant to your personal history, there was still a battle going on. You had to keep fighting. You struck down another few Gumm-Gumms just as Douxie used some of Archie’s fire to dispose of another, another few.

“Ha, I've always hated those twits!”

“Valid!” you cried as you ducked under an opponent’s strike. You took out their knees, rising again, just in time to see Morgana descend from a sky wormhole. Just what you needed.

“Night has already fallen.”

“Oh, really? Couldn’t tell.”

Douxie rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, but you could see the grin on his face. That boy loved you and all of your shenanigans. You were shaken from your thoughts, however, when Morgana started firing spells into the crowd, yeeting her magic around with reckless abandon.

“Morgana’s returned! She’s enemy number one!”

“Go!” Jim yelled, “We’ll hold the bridge!”

“Hisirdoux, with me! I-You!” oh no, he was talking to you, “I take you in as my apprentice, spare your life from the sword, and this is how you-”

“Master, they didn’t have a choice!” Douxie grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as if to shield you from Merlin’s wrath, “It was a matter of survival!”

“Survival! What-”

“Please, Master, let them help. If we leave them here, any of the nights might try to attack them!”

“And why should that matter! They are a traitor, are they not? Death on the battlefield is more merciful than anything they might receive after the battle is won.”

“I won’t let anything happen to them,” Douxie’s voice was calm, but you could hear the anger behind it, “(Y/N) has proved their loyalty to me hundreds of times. They’re more than capable and I trust them with my life.”

You broke from your reverie, eyes painted with concern. How could he trust you so easily? Why did he, even after everything that had happened? This shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you. He did love you, after all, and yet, you still found yourself surprised by this revelation. You couldn’t help the hesitant smile that crept onto your face as you squeezed his hand slightly. He really did love you, didn’t he?

Merlin grumbled something, probably regretting that binding spell right about now, before motioning for you to follow him.

You cast a wave back to the kids, a silent wish for their luck, before you ran after Merlin, your hand still entwined with Douxie’s. He didn’t let go until you reached a small group of ruins, at which point you, your wizard and the old man stood, backs facing each other, all of you peered out into the darkness. Archie flew above you, dragon eyes finding nothing out of the ordinary. Not yet, anyway. You kept your sword out in front of you, and you could tell that Douxie was doing the same with his brace. You had no idea what Merlin was doing, but you never did, so that wasn’t a big deal.

“I feel dark magic.”

“It means she’s close.”

You and the familiar both gasped as something ran through the trees. A chill made its way into the woods, surrounding you and raising goosebumps on your skin. You felt your heart begin to race as strange echoes continued to ring out through the air. They soon morphed from a collection of noises into a laugh- Morgana’s.

“An old man, a foolish boy, and a traitor; lost as always.”

Your small group moved slightly, scanning the forest for any sign of the sorceress. You could feel her presence, but there was nothing there.

“Do you dare run… or face my vengeance?”

Oh. There she was.

“Um, is there a third option?” Archie asked, sounding much too calm for the situation at hand. You couldn’t blame him though, you would have done the same. But you weren’t doing the same. You were looking over your shoulder just as a collection of roots shot out at you. Thanks to your little turn, you had an advantage, cutting the offending plant parts before they could get to you. Douxie and Merlin, however, were not so lucky. The latter was pulled to the ground and stabbed through the shoulder with a particularly sharp root. He barked out an order for Hisirdoux to run, which he could not do because of the roots clinging to his shoulders. You used your sword on what you could, and a blast of green energy from Merlin took out the rest. A little anticlimactic if you ask me.

Despite your escape, Morgana cackled, even as Douxie fired spell after spell at her with little success. While he made his attempt, you helped Merlin to a standing position, a task that became easier when Douxie rejoined you at the old wizard’s other side.

“Merlin, you’re injured! Badly… (Y/N), is there anything-”

“Hisirdoux, if I should fall this day…”

Merlin handed his former apprentice a scroll, one which was covered with notes and instructions about building a tomb, and the heart of Avalon. Your brows furrowed as you read over Douxie’s shoulder. That wasn’t ominous at all.

“Why are you giving us this?”

“Foreseeing the future means preparing for the worst of it,” he glared at you for a moment, and you wondered what exactly he could see. He clearly hadn’t seen your act of treason coming, but there were other things that made you wonder. Your thoughts were interrupted by more ominous Merlin content, “That includes your wounded friend.”

“Jim? What about him?”

“The corruption in his heart has no cure. When he returns to the future, it will overtake him.”

Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

You’d had your suspicions, but hearing it from the master wizard himself brought it to another level of reality. There was no cure. There was no solution. You were going to go home, and you were going to kill Douxie. Or you’d try to, at the very least. Maybe, now that Douxie was a master wizard himself, he could do you both a kindness and kill you where you stood.

…

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon, but a witch could dream! You feel his hand on your back, a gesture meant to comfort you that only made you sick. How he still cared about you, even after all of this would confuse you for years to come. For now, though, you just accepted it. There wasn’t time for much else with an evil sorceress on the prowl.

“No, no there must be some other way! I made a promise to them, to Claire, to get them home alive, all of them!”

“Yet, to save time itself, you all must return home, even if it means James Lake will be no more.”

That wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought. While a distance stemming from your past had momentarily sprung up between you and the kids, the gap between you had since closed. You loved those little monsters like they were your siblings, and you’d do anything for them. The thought that Jim would have to die, to make another sacrifice when he’d already given up so much, was just another thing that killed you inside.

“And there’s no other solution?” you tried to keep quiet despite the rage that boiled inside you, not at anyone in particular, but at the situation as a whole, “There’s no way to fix this that doesn’t get Jim killed?”

Merlin shook his head, but you didn’t need that confirmation. You already knew the answer.

“Such is the burden of a wizard,” the old one spoke as your small group made its way deeper into the night, “To make the hard choices mortals cannot,” he grunted, slouching forward slightly, reminding you that you should really take a look at that stab wound at some point. Merlin, however, paid no real mind to this, instead, continuing his little monologue, “Now it is yours to bear.”

You looked away from your wizard companions to see a giant skull, lodged between a rock and… well, another rock. Some may call it a canyon, you called it fucking ominous and terrifying. The skull was lit from within, orange light seeping through the space where eyes had once stared out into the world. You wondered, for a moment, how these old bones had ended up here, and how they had stayed. What was the last thing this being saw? Was it the sky above, or the ground below? What could kill something as large as this? You didn’t ask your questions. It didn’t seem like the right time.

And really, it wasn’t time for anything other than nerves and anxiety. Without a word, you followed Merlin across the rocks until he stood in front of the skull, on top of an odd sort of contraption. You stood a few steps behind, safely off the weird cage thing.

“Morgana, reveal thyself!”

Before you could question the logistics of giving yourselves away, a portal, ringed with gold and made of shadows appeared, releasing the queen of the apocalypse onto another rock. Yep, that sure was an evil sorceress. Just what you needed at this time of night.

“Look what has wandered into my web,” nice starting point. Threatening, but not over the top. You cast your sarcastic thoughts aside for the moment, as valid as they were, preparing yourself instead, for a fight.

“These are dark powers you medal with, Morgana. Who granted them? Who resurrected you from death?”

“Wizards beyond your ken,” ah shit. Just as you suspected. ‘Wizards beyond your ken,’ was mysterious witch for ‘The Arcane Order.’

And then she was gone again. Dope.

“So, uh… we should head into the big skull of doom?” you asked, eyebrows knit together in a mix of concern and confusion.

“Yep, let’s go.” You and Douxie nodded at each other before helping Merlin scale the rocks and get into the skull, asking Archie to stand watch for a moment, just to secure his safety. He agreed only once you’d promised to call him if things got rough.

Inside of the first skull, you found a second, slightly smaller skull. What the hell was it with magic dudes and skulls, huh? Morgana had this as her lair, the Arcane Order’s ship was a skull, Douxie had his whole vibe and Merlin kept skulls in his office. Shit, even you kept bones around, though you were a doctor and arguably had the best excuse. Your thoughts ran wild as you examined the space around you, but they were interrupted by the reappearance of your least favourite murder-witch.

“Morgana!”

The two wizards prepared for battle, but you hesitated. Something was wrong here. Morgana was crying, no-sobbing. You recognized this, whatever this was. You’d seen it in yourself back in the 1300s. Yep, something was wrong alright, and judging by this, someone was probably dead.

“It’s your fault!” She cried, “You’re the reason Arthur is gone!”

Oh, so you were right. That didn’t really explain how Arthur’s blood was on your hands though.

“What?”

“Gone?”

“Uh, guys? It kinda sounds like the King is dead.”

Your companions had no time to respond as Morgana rose through the air, seeking misplaced revenge instead of proper justice. She fired a spell at the three of you, which Douxie ran to shield you from. Merlin joined him a second later, limping towards the younger wizard with your help. The second he stood on his own, your magic joined theirs.

“She’s too powerful! We have no choice but to seal her away!”

“I know. I’ll try to buy some ti-”

Douxie was cut off when Merlin knocked you both clear across the room and out of the way of another spell, one which left the old wizard in chains.

You felt the impact that Douxie suffered and you were sure he felt yours. Nevertheless, the two of you pulled yourselves up just as Morgana started on another speech.

“Oh, shame! Little Douxie finally gets his staff, just in time to die with it!”

She aimed her next attack at him, but you interfered, knocking her away with a shield made of your magic.

“And you! Traitorous little wretch!” you weren’t exactly sure which treason she was talking about or who she learned it from. You’d betrayed a lot of people over the years, she’d have to be more specific, “Why do you still fight alongside them?!”

You knocked away another attack before answering, “The shorter one is cute!” With that, you went on the offensive, landing a kick to Morgana’s stomach and striking her again with the butt of your sword. Your small victory didn’t last long though, as she struck back, the impact slamming you into the opposite wall and probably cracking a few of your ribs. You’d have to apologize to Douxie for that one.

Morgana scoffed at you, looking down at your crumpled figure as you struggled to stand, “Only a fool would fight for love!”

Her voice may have contained a little more rage than was necessary, and she may have been projecting a little bit, but she didn’t have time to say anything else. Douxie handed a few hits with his staff, using surprise to his advantage, and holding up surprisingly well despite the pain you both were in. Morgana turned her taunting onto Douxie, mocking him as they fought.

“You can’t even wield it!” you winced as she landed a hit, “You should stick to your usual tricks.”

You bit your lip as she struck him in the face- twice. This really wasn’t a great day for either of you, was it?

“Use the power of your staff! Make it your own!”

“Please, Douxie.” Your voice was quiet, and there was almost no way he heard it. Hell, you weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but in the next second, his staff turned into a fucking guitar so that was probably it if you had to guess. Or maybe it was the next second when he avenged you by smacking Morgana in the face with said guitar, sending her flying across the room. You knew that as a doctor you shouldn’t hope for someone to crack a rib, but this was an exception you were willing to make.

“What?!”

“BABE! THAT WAS HOT!!” you yelled, too shocked to say much else.

“Bleeding balroths! This is nuclear!” your wizard said, spinning the staff around.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that as you pulled yourself up from the ground. Of all the things Douxie had ever said and done in his life, that had to be the Douxie-est.

“Did you just strike me with a-a lute?!”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh. No, uh-uh. Spellcaster guitar, darling.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the fuck he just said, but you were 110% there for it. He played a lil’ riff on his staff, and you had a very brief mental debate on whether or not that took the throne for the Douxie-est thing he’d ever done.

“Needs tuning though.” He continued to play the riff for a solid minute, and you weren’t sure what was funnier. The fact that this was, in fact, something that was happening, or how Done Merlin looked with literally everything at that moment. It was both. Both was good.

“I meant make it your own weapon!”

Douxie finished playing just in time to shield himself from another of Morgana’s attacks, “Well, this is technically an “axe!”

“You are a huge geek!”

“And you love it!” your wizard yelled, playing again while running from Morgana, looking for an opening while avoiding a volley of spells. He was right. You did love it. That’s why you were going to help at the next opportunity, your (and technically his) poor ribs be damned.

“Hisirdoux! This is no time for dreadful music!”

“Dreadful?”

“Absolutely infernal.”

“I mean, I thought it was good!” you yelled, launching your own round of spells at Morgana, making it harder for her to land a hit on Douxie.

“No worries, this is just the opening track!”

“What do you hope to do? Blow out our eardrums?”

“Well, pardon me if this rock is too freakin’ awesome for your medieval sensibilities!” You had no idea how he did it, but he managed to land on one of the light fixtures (of all things) while you weren’t looking. You couldn’t really see him from where you were, but you were almost certain that he was doing the sign of horns and sticking out his tongue.

“Enough of your noise!” Morgana cried, blasting you to the side quickly before returning to her real fight. You were lucky that this blast was not as strong as her first. You were able to roll out of it without causing any real damage, a benefit to both you and Douxie. Speaking of, your wizard found himself locked in a Harry Potter-style duel, two magics facing off against one another in a single stream. It was not looking too good for your boi though. He seemed to notice this, and jumped from the light and returned to physical combat on the ground. Unfortunately, that did not end well either, and you bit back a cry as Douxie was thrown through the room. Yeah, things were looking rough. Time to call in the cat calvary.

You swore you were only gone for a moment, but in that time, Douxie managed to get himself pinned against a wall.

“Do not fret, Merlin. You’ll find a new apprentice to replace him. Are people not dispensable, after all?”

“Ok, go, go now!” you whispered to Archie, your tone intense, which was fair considering the situation. The familiar did as told and flew at the witch, sending her fling off balance and keeping her away from Douxie. Arch did a quick loop near Merlin, tossing the wizard his staff before circling around to land on Douxie’s shoulder. Merlin and Morgana began their fight as you ran to your wizard and his familiar.

“Nice work my dudes, you think you can keep it up?”

“Probably! Arch, light me!” you liked the sound of that. You liked the sight of it even more as blue flames encircled Morgana, trapping her, and allowing Douxie and Archie to make their final attack, keeping the sorceress in place.

“Hurry, I can’t hold her that long!”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” you said, voice quiet as you threw your own spell at the witch from below. Hopefully, that would make things a little easier. It did. Douxie was grateful.

“You have lost yourself, Morgana! Bound to dark magic. I have no choice but to seal you away! Sigilia infractum!”

It seemed to work for a second, but then, for like, the third (?) time in that battle you were blasted back, Douxie fell with you and hit the ground harder.

“Man, this sucks,” you whispered as you pulled yourselves up, going to Merlin’s aid.

“Master!”

“She’s too powerful,” he groaned, “You have to finish this, together.”

“We can do that… we can do that! Let’s go!”

You and Douxie moved in sync, matching each other’s movements exactly. Using his staff, Douxie’s blue magic replaced Merlin’s green while yours froze the witch again, keeping her from attacking you.

“Sigilia infractum causera!”

Finally, the blast from the spell did not hurt you, instead, it did as it was supposed to, trapping Morgana. You let your own spell ease up, instead, lending whatever strength you could to Douxie, God knows he would need it.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will end all that you love until you feel my agony!”

“Yeah, you aren’t the first person to threaten that! Come up with something original, then we’ll talk.”

The witch roared and threw a spell in your direction, but it disappeared into a shadow edged with purple.

“Hey! Hands off my teachers!”

Oh, Claire! Claire had found you somehow, that was good.

“I swear on all your lives, I shall rise again!”

“Already seen it,” the girl cried, throwing some much-deserved sass Morgana's way, “You don’t win. See you in 900 years!”

And with that, the spell was complete. Claire opened another portal, dragging Morgana into it. With that big historical event over, your adrenaline failed you and you staggered forward. That was pretty convenient considering it let you catch Douxie, who was doing much worse than you were. You noticed his eyes rolling back slightly, which was a cause for some alarm.

“Hey, heyheyheyheyhey, stay with us, you nerd, don’t pass out on me,” you weren’t sure you could handle the stress if he did.

“Douxie! Are you okay?!” Archie and Claire moved in, the former knocking Douxie back and licking his face relentlessly.

“Ugh! That’s-that’s disgusting!”

You and Claire both laughed at this, glad that at least this part of the fight was finally over. Douxie stole a glance at you and wondered if he had somehow died during the battle. How else could there be an angel before him?

“Well,” he turned his gaze from your smile to Claire with only minor difficulties, “I think we just saved history.”

You sat back, all fears forgotten for now in a moment of relief and elation as you watched your boyfriend give the girl a high-five.

“And you took down a ninth-level sorceress.”

“Damn right,” you giggled, which was new, but not unwelcome. You turned to Douxie, “Sharp work, samurai.” Your friends rolled their eyes at your antics, though they did it out of love.

The excitement calmed for a moment, allowing Archie to speak, “Merlin would be proud.”

“Yeah, if he wasn’t out cold.”

“I mean, it’s not a great look for him, but full transparency? I could probably take a three-hundred-year nap right now.”

Douxie laughed, but he wrapped a hand around yours and whispered, “Please don’t.”

You squeezed his hand, a silent promise that you would not answer your problems with sleep. Not today, anyway. To be completely honest, the problem immediately at hand could be solved rather quickly, by you, at least.

“Anyway, Merlin’s still been stabbed, so I’ll just-”

Fortunately, this was just a stab wound. No magic, no tricks, no possession, just medicine. That was what you knew, it was what you could deal with. It was over too quickly. Was that a thing you could say? Could you wish for medical treatment to last longer? Was that something you could do? Not to mention that he was your boyfriend’s surrogate dad, which just made things complicated. Either way, it was over too fast. You returned to Camelot, mourned the dead, said your goodbyes, and that was it. Time was up. You had to go home.

Home. What even was home now? You knew the answer. Home was Douxie. Wherever he was, you wanted to be. He made you feel safe, feel loved, feel every good thing that humans are supposed to feel, but- To save the world, to save his life, you would have to leave him. There was no other choice, either you stayed in the past and everyone died, or you went back to the future and risked his life by staying with him. You had to go. As soon as you got back, you’d have to run. You didn’t know where, to-to Spain, or Japan, or Cuba, Vietnam, Egypt, France, somewhere, anywhere, just to keep him safe. You didn’t want to do it. You just wanted to stay by his side, forever, if possible. But that was the thing. It wasn’t possible. And that broke your heart.

And if possible, these gosh darn kids were going to break you even more.

“Everybody, ready yourselves. We don’t have much time. I’ll dial us in for when we left.”

“But what’s gonna happen when we get there? The danger we escaped, it’ll be waiting for us. And Jim’s still hurt.”

You bit your lip as you and Douxie approached Jim and Claire. You really didn’t want to be the one who had to say this. You didn’t want to be around when she heard the news. Shit, you didn’t even want it to be news. You just wanted your kids to be happy, and to not kill your boyfriend, and to live for once. Maybe fate just didn’t like you.

“Claire, about that… Jim is-”

“Ready to face the inevitable,” Jim held out a hand to stop you.

“Jim, are you sure?” Douxie asked while you maintained your silence. You were pretty sure if you said anything you’d lose your composure.

“Jim?” Oh God, and now Claire was going to find out how screwed you still were. This was gonna suck.

“Claire, the shard in- There is no cure. That’s what Merlin told me earlier.”

You winced at the horror on the young girl’s face. She didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.

“That’s crazy! We can find something! I’ll learn a spell, we can stay here!”

“If we don’t all go back right now, the future won’t exist. What kind of hero would I be if I sacrificed everyone else? Not to be ironic, but we’re out of time.”

“No! Douxie, (Y/N), tell him! We can fix this! You can fix this!”

You brought your hand up to hide your eyes from the sorceress. She was right, you should have been able to fix this, and tears wouldn’t solve anything. Your only solution was running away, and Jim- oh God, Jim. See, it was things like this that made you start drinking in the twenties.

“I’m sorry, Claire. He’s right. We must go back now, but when we do, we’ll find a way to reverse this,” he stole a glance back at you, and your distraught state only drove him further. He had to do this, to fix things when you got home. He owed all of you that much, “I promised I would return you home, and I am, but the portal can only stay open for a few moments. This is our one shot. Trust me.”

A moment later, he joined you at the base of the ship before taking your hand and leading you onto it.

“We’ll fix this,” he promised, his voice low so only you could hear, “Together. We’ll go home to the future, and we’ll fix this, and then-” your eyes met his as he paused, “And then, maybe, we could start our future.”

Despite the tears that threatened to fall, you smiled ever so slightly, “We’ll build a new one if we have to.”

It wasn’t until his lips met yours that you started crying. It wasn’t his fault it was just- fuck you would miss this. You smiled again as you pulled apart, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was for his sake, really. Under normal circumstances, you might pretend that everything was fine, but for just one second, you wanted to believe it.

“I love you,” your voice shook, and you hated it.

“I love you, too,” his voice was strong, yet tired. And you loved it.

You pushed a small smile onto your face, trying to cast the illusion that you were okay, and that everything was okay, and that no one would die when you returned. Your attempts were quickly halted by a sting on your cheek. That came from him, you realized, as you noticed a thin cut that ran across his cheekbone. You ran your thumb over it, his skin patching together and healing under your hand. At least you could still do that one thing. Sure, you were a traitorous assassin, but by god could you heal a small cut.

Douxie smiled, his grin seeming more natural than yours. He kissed you one last time before letting you go and taking the time map. You watched him, not saying a word as he said something under his breath and activated the map and the heart. A beam of light lit the night sky green, going on for a moment until it formed a portal. You could almost see your time on the other side. That was it. That was how you would get back to the future. Yay.

It was weird. You’d known Douxie for so long, and hated him for most of that time, but now? Now you were dreading going back to your time, going back to general safety because it meant that he would die. It was just odd to think that there was a time where you would have wished for this, for a chance to kill him and avoid the blame. If you wished for anything now, it would be another way out.

You followed Douxie onto Merlin’s airship and walked past him, standing as far away as you could. You didn’t know what would happen when you crossed that barrier. You might try to murder him instantly, you might be able to control yourself, you might be able to fight off your curse entirely. The point is, you didn’t know, and distance was the best solution. So, you stood alone and stared off into the night as the ship moved off towards the portal until Steve’s ramblings returned your attention to your friends.

“Man, Camelot was crazy! Why don’t they ever talk about that in the history books?”

Douxie gave the blond kid a pat on the shoulder, and you watched as Steve headed towards the front of the ship where Jim and Claire stood. The girl was looking back towards you, but you couldn’t meet her eyes. Her boyfriend was doomed, and there was nothing you could do about it. And you would have done anything. For those kids, you’d give your own life in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t an option. Not now, not yet. Douxie, however, met her eyes, though only for a moment. You didn’t have to hear him to know what he was thinking.

“My burden to bear.”

And with those final words, the world turned green, and you were gone.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

82 notes · View notes

lilatreus · 3 years

Note

im new to the ac fandom and i didnt know there were any books should i be reading them?? or are there certain ones that i absolutely need to read or would i be okay if i skip them?

Yeah it’s okay to skip them if you want! They’re mostly there to give some more insight on some of the characters. If you want to read them but you don’t have to money to buy the books, you can read them here. I actually have all the books already on paper copy so I would definitely recommend buying them if you really enjoy them.

There’s also some comics and graphic novels about them too which I have included in on the master list. They actually follow the modern storyline of you want to read up on that. If you want to read them just do readcomicsonline. They have them all, only watch out for ads.

Anyway here’s the master list, it’s pretty long won’t lie:

The books, in order of strictly historical events:

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey by Gordon Doherty (2018)

Basically this books gives the canonical story to assassin’s creed odyssey following Kassandra around Greece. If you had the “best” or good ending from the story then you’re probably going to be upset with the book. I actually liked it and if you were ever confused about the game then this is definitely for you to read.

Assassin’s Creed Origins: Desert Oath by Oliver Bowden (2017)

This book takes place years before Origins. It follows Bayek who a teenager at the time. We learn how Bayek and Aya start their relationship and it kind of explains some of the side missions that talk about Bayek’s past. If you love Bayek and Aya’s relationship you will love this book.

[ insert for whenever an ac valhalla book is written ]

Assassin’s Creed: The Secret Crusade by Oliver Bowden (2011)

This book is the one I’m currently rereading, so it takes place with the father of Marco Polo talking about Altaïr’s life. It talks about his—Altaïr’s—dad within the first few chapters, events that happened in the game, and then what happens after. It gives more insight on what happened between the events of ac one and the little bits of scenes we see in ac revelations of Altaïr in game. If you want to know how Maria and Altaïr got together you’ll like this book it’s very sweet and I love how smitten Altaïr was. If you love Atlmal (Altaïr and Malik) you’ll also like this book but it will crush you.

Assassin’s Creed: Renaissance by Oliver Bowden (2009)

This follows Ezio through assassin’s creed two. Literally just the book version of the game. Does talk about how Ezio and Cristina got together and a few of the memories you get to play in Brotherhood are in this book. I like it. It pretty much follows the game exactly so if you want to skip it, you can but still a really good book that I recommend reading.

Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood by Oliver Bowden (2010)

Follows the plot of the game. It’s pretty similar to it as opposed to a few differences. While I like this book, I will always say the game is better than this book entirely. Still, it’s pretty good and explains a lot of plot.

Assassin’s Creed: Revelations by Oliver Bowden (2011)

It explains why Ezio is doing what he does in the game. Why he’s there and what is reasoning is. You get a little small bit about Claudia but that’s it. Ezio does, in book, visit Leonardo on the last few days before the artist dies :( that’s pretty much it. Only some minor differences to the game. If you’re looking for something about Desmond, you won’t find it in this book.

Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag by Oliver Bowden (2013)

I’ll be honest I only read this book once so my memory is pretty poor on it but from what I can remember it’s about Edward and Caroline and how they got together. And then there’s something about Anne Boney and Edward towards the end I believe. Kind of explains his backstory from the little scenes we’re shown in the game I think? (Correct me if I’m wrong on this one but I’m certain that’s the gist of it).

Assassin’s Creed: Forsaken by Oliver Bowden (2012)

This one was the first assassin’s creed book I read. Now fair warning: if you do not like Haytham Kenway, I strongly advise you to not read this book. It is all about Haytham until the final few chapters and then Connor takes over the book once you’ve killed him in game. This book explains how he (Haytham) came to be apart of the Templars and how Edward dies. It talks about his relationship with Ziio and how he built the Templar order up during the seven years war. I’ll be honest it was okay when I first read it because I was like 11 and the only other thing I had read was like just percy jackson. Looking back on this book though, it’s not that great. I do not like Haytham at all so I, personally, would not recommend this book. I went in reading it expecting for it to be about Connor and I was very disappointed and upset that it wasn’t. So you can skip this book if you like because the only thing it does is give insight to a lot of what Haytham does.

Assassin’s Creed: Unity by Oliver Bowden (2014)

This is my favorite book. This is about Arno reading Elise’s diary after she passed. There’s little bits where Arno writes in here and there throughout the novel. It’s pretty sad I won’t lie. Explains how Elise grew up, what she did during the parts where we didn’t see her in game, and talks about how she felt during the parts where we did see her in game. Basically at the end of the book it’s Elise asking Arno to please help seek unity and stop the war between the Templars and Assassins.

Assassin’s Creed: Underworld by Oliver Bowden (2015)

This book follows Jayadeep Mir, also known to us as Henry Green. There’s two parts to this book. The first part takes place six years before the events of syndicate and you get to really learn about the twin’s father and then the second part takes place during the events of the game. It talks about Evie and Henry’s relationship during the second part and it’s pretty good!

There are no books about assassin’s creed chronicles (ac China, India, and Russia) if you’re wondering why they’re missing :(

The comics:

*most of these take place during the modern storyline I’ll try my best to explain when they come in and how it adds up to the new our modern storyline at the end

Assassin’s Creed the Fall

There’s three issues with this it’s just a graphic novel honestly. Takes place with the main character from AC Chronicles: Russia

Assassin’s Creed the Chain

Graphic Novel sequel to the Fall

Assassin’s Creed Brahman

Written by the same people who wrote The Fall and The Chain, however this focuses on Arbaaz Mir who is the main character from Assassin’s Creed Chronicles: India.

Now from what I’ve seen, correct me if I’m wrong, but the templar and assassin comics pretty much take place around the same time.

Assassin’s Creed: Trial by Fire

Assassin’s Creed issue #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Assassin’s Creed Templars: Black Cross

Assassin’s Creed Templars issue #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Assassin’s Creed: Setting Sun

Assassin’s Creed issue #6, #7, #8, #9, #10

Assassin’s Creed Templars: Cross of War

Assassin’s Creed Templars issue issue #6, #7, #8, #9

Assassin’s Creed: Homecoming

Assassin’s Creed issue #11, #12, #13, #14

Assassin’s Creed: Uprising

Common Ground Vol 1: issue #1, #2, #3, #4

Infection Point Vol 2: issue #5, #6, #7, #8

Finale vol 3: #9, #10, #11, #12

Assassin’s Creed Reflections (pretty much a stand alone I would say, focuses entirely on past assassins but canon to the templar comics).

Reflections 1: modern story focuses on Otso Berg historical story focuses on Ezio where we learn Ezio is implied to have hooked up with the woman who in the Mona Lisa painting.

Reflections 2: same thing for modern story but now Otso is looking into Altaïr’s story. We get to see Maria, Altaïr, and their son Darim.

Reflections 3: Otso is now looking into Edward Kenway.

Reflections 4: Otso looks into Connor and we see him with his daughter. It’s super cute this issue is my favorite.

Last Descendants

The Last Descendants (Novel)

Locus: issues 1 - 4

The Last Descendants: Tomb of the Khan (novel)

The Last Descendants: Fate of the Gods (novel)

Assassin’s Creed: the French Books (these have all been translated into english and theyre all graphic novels).

These books I would say to skip. If you want to read it you can, however the modern storyline has been said to no longer be canon anymore. The historical storyline however is still canon but not actually necessary to the plot of anything.

Cycle 1

Assassin’s Creed 1: Desmond

Assassin's Creed 2: Aquilus

Assassin's Creed 3: Accipiter

Assassin's Creed 4: Hawk

Assassin's Creed 5: El Cakr

Assassin's Creed 6: Leila

Cycle 2

Assassin’s Creed: Conspiracies

This takes place during WW2

Vol 1: Die Glocke

Vol 2: Project Rainbow

Cycle 3

Assassin’s Creed: Bloodstone

This takes place during the Vietnam War. A follow up on Conspiracies.

Vol 1: book one

Vol 2: book two

The last two I have listed (Conspiracies and Bloodstone) are canon to the comics’ modern storyline as well as the historical. Cycle one is not. They’re both graphic novels. Also I want to say that I have not read these two yet so idk if I’ll be allowed to recommend them but they’re there. I have no idea where they’re placed in terms of modern storyline bc these two are very confusing seeing as they originally were canon then told they weren’t and now they are again.

Other comics that I really have no idea where to place but they do exist if you want to read them:

Assassin’s Creed: Origins (mini series)

Four issues for this comic takes place following Aya and her journey. You get to see what happens with Cleopatra. I personally really like this comic you get some lore on the Brotherhood and Aya so it’s good. Read this after the video game. (Pretty positive it takes place after the game events but before the DLC: hidden ones)

Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla: Song of Glory (mini series)

There are three issues in this. Haven’t read this one yet, however it focuses on Eivor. Read this alongside the video game.

Okay so for canon timeline purposes here is the exact order of everything I’ve listed and where they fall in for strictly the modern storyline:

1 The Fall and the Chain (also called subject four which is just the two of the books into one)

2 Desmond’s story

3 Brahman

4 Assassin’s Creed: Trial by Fire 1 - 5

5 Assassin’s Creed Templars: Black Cross 1 - 5

6 Assassin’s Creed: Setting Sun 6 - 10

6 Assassin’s Creed Templars: Cross of War 6 - 9

7 Assassin’s Creed: Homecoming 11 - 14

Assassin’s Creed Reflections (stand alone don’t have to read if you don’t want to but if you do, read along side the templar stories.)

8 Assassin’s Creed Syndicate modern storyline takes place here

9 Assassin’s Creed: Uprising

10 Origins modern storyline starts here and continues for assassin’s creed odyssey and valhalla*

*If you’re confused as to why Juno isn’t in the game plot anymore the comics explains it. Ubisoft has completely moved her story to the comics entirely and in doing so completely finished the story.

#assassin’s creed #Desmond miles #assassin’s creed comics #assassin’s Creed books #ac master post #assassin’s creed masterpost #I’m not tagging all these games I’m sorry #I didn’t include the movie bc a lot of fans will probably argue over that and I’m not dealing with it #if you catch a mistake please let me know!#also I hope this doesn’t look too messy bc I tried to organize and explain it best I could #asks #anon

50 notes · View notes

hunxi-guilai · 4 years

Note

just your post talking about the Jiangs wearing white and funeral rites and that really piqued my interest bc im actually super interested in burial, funerary, and mourning traditions?? (i used to work in a historic burial ground so yeah i came by it naturally) would you be willing to do a post on funerary/burial/mourning traditions as they relate to the story/time period? I would be eternally grateful

oh man oh man, funerary/burial rites are a huge and fascinating field of study, especially since a great deal of archaeological studies center around tombs and funerary goods (since they’re underground and often left untouched, you get some great artifacts that way. Unfortunately there’s also a huge black market for these artifacts, and there’s a whole debate going down in the classics field about whether or not academia should get involved with the black market on these items but whoops that’s a tangent).

From a philological standpoint, we’ve got loads of texts about ritual -- the《礼记》Liji / Classic of Rites (one of our earliest texts on ritual) already has six chapters (or more! I just glanced at chapter titles) devoted to the regulation of mourning, which you can find translated on ctext by James Legge if you’re interested in pursuing this further. Personally, I think it’s pretty dry reading, but it does give you more insight into the production research Chinese period dramas will do for scenes of mourning -- 《琅琊榜之风起长林》/ Nirvana in Fire 2 did a phenomenal amount of research, which I might have... written a paper on... I’m getting off topic again

Mourning rites are complicated; a great deal of conduct and ritual depends on 1) the status of the deceased, 2) the mourner’s relationship to the deceased, 3) political/historical context, and 4) your funeral budget. Some aspects that might be considered more relevant to CQL are:

Jiang Yanli’s wardrobe change -- she wears white (the color most heavily associated with death in China, for those of you who missed that) and much plainer cloth

periods of fasting (usually up to three days) immediately following the death

mourning periods could last for up to three years, during which you weren’t really supposed to be actively involved in society

exhibit A: funereal white, plain clothes, plainer fabric. friendly reminder that there is no “period-appropriate attire” for CQL because it’s a show that lives in a fantastic and ahistorical setting that prioritizes the Aesthetic over the Historically Accurate and let’s be honest what even is historical accuracy anyways

exhibit B, screenshot from LYB2: Look! at! that! research! now THAT’S some actual hempen fabric, and you can find mentions of the staff in the Liji as well

Oh! But what might be fun to talk about w/r/t to burial practices and CQL is the significance of the phrases 死无全尸 siwuquanshi / ‘to die without an intact corpse’ and 挫骨扬灰 cuoguyanghui / ‘to grind bones to powder and scatter the ashes.’ I think this might have gotten lost in translation, not by the fault of the subtitlers, but just through cultural context.

Historically in (Han) Chinese culture, it is extremely important to be buried intact on a philosophical/spiritual level. A lot of this comes from a line in the 《孝经》Xiaojing / Classic of Filial Piety from way back in the Warring States period:

身體髮膚，受之父母，不敢毀傷，孝之始也。

Body and bone, hair and skin -- these are received from one’s parents. Do not dare to ruin or harm them -- this is the beginning of filial piety.

Correspondingly, serious crimes were punished in ancient China by mutilation (i.e. chopping off a hand or foot to punish theft), which, on top of being, y’know, horrifically brutal, was also extremely shameful because it meant that you would not be able to return the intact body your parents gave you to the grave. Thus, crime = mutilating punishment = multidimensional dishonor upon you, dishonor upon your family, dishonor upon your cow, etc.

(this is, incidentally, also why a streak of dyed hair and/or tattoos is a classic -- if now somewhat dated -- way of denoting a rebellious Chinese teenager in media; dyeing hair and getting tattoos both go against this ancient precept. It’s much less of a taboo now, but it varies family by family.)

So the burial practice of cremation in the West is pretty uncontroversial, but in China, it’s definitely not the preferred mode of disposing of a body (there’s a fascinating episode of 99% Invisible about how Singapore is handling this cultural taboo with the need for land).

It’s also worth mentioning that this is primarily a Han Chinese thing; other ethnic groups have different attitudes towards the human body after death (e.g. Tibetan and Mongolian sky burial), often heavily influenced by naturally limited resources.

But back to CQL! This is why the phrases 死无全尸 siwuquanshi / ‘to die without an intact corpse’ and 挫骨扬灰 cuoguyanghui / ‘to grind bones to powder and scatter the ashes’ are such significant phrases. To die without an intact corpse (Wei Wuxian’s fate) is like, the peak of shame and abandonment. Not only has he failed to return to the grave the body his parents gave him, but he has no one who will give him the appropriate rites and offerings for a peaceful journey into the afterlife. Meanwhile, 挫骨扬灰 cuoguyanghui, the fate of the Wen refugees, is notable because it conveys just how vicious and vengeful the other clans are -- it’s not enough for the clans to, you know, kill them all in cold blood, but the clans will also desecrate their corpses by smashing their bones and scattering their ashes (it’s very Achilles-dragging-Hector’s-corpse-behind-his-chariot, for my fellow Iliad nerds out there).

I’m sure there’s much more to unpack in CQL/Chinese period dramas as a whole w/r/t to burial practices, but that requires the research of a dissertation (and I am, at least at the moment, but a mere hobbyist).

#ask and ye shall receive #mdzs meta #cql meta

617 notes · View notes

alaffy · 3 years

Text

Classic Doctor Who, Season 1 – The Aztecs (Are we the baddies?)

The Aztecs is the second Doctor Who story of a historical nature. I say second as, while An Unearthly Child is set in the past, it is vague enough that it could have been set on any planet with a bunch of primitives and not much would change. While it seems like Marco Polo is usually ranked higher then the Aztecs in fan polls, I personally prefer this story more.

The story itself is simple enough. The Tardis crew land in a burial chamber of a High Priest of the Aztecs. Barbara puts on a bracelet that she finds next to the entombed priest before going through a door into the rest of the temple. There Barbara is found by the Aztecs, who (thanks to the bracelet) believe her to be a goddess. The other Tardis members also go through the door, only to find out it opens only from inside the tomb. While the Doctor tries to find another way into the tomb, so they can get to the Tardis, Barbara pretends to be the goddess. However, Barbara believes that she can use her role as a way to save the Aztecs from being wiped out. She believes that, if she can stop human sacrifices (as she puts it “everything that’s evil”), then when Cortez lands only the good will remain and therefore no one will feel the need to wipe them out (because of course that’s the only reason they were wiped out. Sigh). The Doctor tries to explain to her how she cannot change history (a line which would haunt this series until it was further explained in more recent episodes), but Barbara refuses to listen. But her refusal puts all of their lives in jeopardy as the Priest of Sacrifice, Tlotoxl realizes that she is a fake and tries to get rid of her. In the end, Barbara’s plans fail and the Tardis crew (after finding a way back into the tomb), leave.

This story is absolutely a case of the road to hell being paved with good intentions. And while the Priest Tlotoxl may be cast as the villain, I would argue that Barbara is something of an antagonist. Barbara means well, but she’s so insistent that she is right that she ignores the simple fact that the Aztecs simply do not see it her way. She sees human sacrifice as barbaric, but the Aztecs see it as an honor. When Barbara stops one of the sacrifices, the person who was to be sacrificed leaps to his death to avoid shame. Barbara is right, human sacrifice is something that shouldn’t be practice. However, by pretending to be one of their gods to get what she wants, her plan is doomed to fail. First of all, she is ordering all sacrifices to be stopped, even though she has shown no proof that rain will continue to fall if no one is sacrificed (this was the reason why people were being sacrificed in the story). This does not sit well with Tlotoxl as his way of life tells him otherwise. So, naturally, he begins to doubt that she is actually a goddess. He is convinced she is sent there to destroy them. Of course, he does find out she is a fake and to him that’s it. She’s lying about being a goddess, why believe she telling the truth about anything else? In his view, she is the villain and it is his duty to get rid of her. But, because he cannot attack her directly, he focuses on her friends instead. This, of course, puts their lives in danger.

But the reason I think Barbara is an antagonist is because of what happens with Autloc, the Hight Priest of Knowledge. Throughout the story, Autloc is shown to be a wise and kind man. He’s also a person who wants to do right by the Aztec people. It is made clear from the beginning that Autloc questions the need of human sacrifice. However, it also is made clear that he goes along with Barbara’s plan because he believes her to be one of the gods. Barbara uses his belief in her to pit him against Tlotoxl. The more Tlotoxl fights Barbara, the more she tries to keep Autloc on her side. However, as events go on, Autloc learns the truth of Barbara’s ruse and it shakes him to his core. He is so badly shaken that he resigns as the Priest of Knowledge, gives up his possessions, and goes to live in the wilderness. Here’s a man who (theoretically) could have done wonderful things for his people, but because of Barbara no longer has the faith (in his religion and perhaps in himself) to do so. So, Barbara’s plan didn’t just fail, she also ruined a person’s life.

The thing is, it is because of Barbara’s actions that I love this episode. I loved the fact that, in the early stories, the Tardis crew weren’t the cookie-cutter type of heroes. They would screw up. They would get things wrong. They are more three dimensional because of this. And it makes a story more compelling because you are unsure of exactly of how the main characters actions will affect the story. And, in the end, you do feel sorry for Barbara because she wasn’t acting out of malice. Her heart was in the right place, even if her ego need a bit of a check. But that’s what made the character so human and so relatable.

#doctor who #first doctor #classic tv #episode thoughts

9 notes · View notes

poepoe-thebunny · 3 years

Text

Rudy/Tony and Fam during Quarantine

Cause this is where my life is at, apparently. I thought I escaped the “quarantine fever writing” that everyone else got. Apparently I was wrong.

After another visit to the castle, the Thompson’s end up there in quarantine once miss rona hits the world. Thank god for WI-FI and working remotely, even if his parents look vaguely like zombies due to time zone differences. Tony can’t talk, his online schooling schedule is all sorts of weird and he’s pretty sure his teacher just wants to sleep until the whole thing is over. Honestly Tony can’t say he blames her.

The Sackville-bagg clan, as it turns out, is a surprisingly overprotective bunch when they need to be, especially now that they have accepted their humans into the fold. Even with catching up on modern medicine and germ theory, they won’t allow anything to happen to their precious humans.

(AU/headcanons incoming??

Rudy/Tony:

- Think Rudy was protective before? Think again.

- Rudy is over 300 years old, he’s old by human standards and he has met people who are old by vampire standards. He’s seen Things(TM) ok?

- He has been through more than one plague in his life. He has seen what it can do to the sick and the poor. He knows it’s a different now, that life-saving machines exist, that they’re working on a vaccine, that soap is widely available.

- But he also knows it’s not.

- Tony? Not going anywhere as far as he is concerned. Say hello to your prince, Rapunzel, cause Rudy is keeping Tony up in that tower if it kills him (again).

- He knows where all of Tony’s masks are, and where he puts the extras.

- He’ even shops online for masks with Tony, finding cool hand-sewn, gothic looking ones for Rudy himself to wear. He’s not sure if Corona even effects vampires, but Tony likes finding stuff to match his “aesthetic’ and it keeps his mortal happy.

- He waits on his mortal hand and foot in between videogames and watching Netflix. (Tony likes How to Train Your Dragon and Paranorman, Rudy likes The Little Prince and Kubo and the Two Strings.).

- Rudy’s first introduction to Tumblr is through Tony, and at one point they reach the Plague Doctor Aesthetics. While Rudy hasn’t spent much time in Italy, he doesn’t think they’re very accurate, and complains as such to his mortal.

- Rudy is surprisingly easily offended about historically inaccurate things, and it sends Tony into laughing fits.

- Rudy is Bad At Memes. Like, just in general he doesn’t always get them, and when Corona Memes become a thing he’s just constantly confused. Poor Rudy honestly.

- Tries to learn to cook healthy human food, except he hasn’t had any major kitchen experience in 200-odd years and it comes out as a disaster the first few times he tries it.

- It turns into a teaching session between him and the other adult humans, turns out the old couple who owns the castle like to feed people. Rudy walks into Tony’s room with a tray piled so high Tony can’t see his head.

-Always offering to fly around the castle to get things for Tony, even if he isn’t sick.

- TikTok dances. Tony shows him, then teaches him. Rudy is shockingly good at them, but Gregory thinks he’s cringy.

Gregory:

(Not me flexing my love of the good big brother trope, absolutely not, nope)

- Surprisingly rather take charge about the whole thing, he’s come around to the Thompson’s and the old couple.

- While his parents help when they can, they sort of take a step back, and let the three siblings explain what’s happening in the world to the clan (if they are there). Being the oldest, Gregory sort of defaults to being the leader.

-Checks in with the Thompson’s, as well as Otto and Emma (The old couple who run the place.) Asks if they need anything while they work/are in school etc.

- Warns the clan to be very careful when visiting, not just for the Thompson’s, but also because Otto and Emma are getting on in years and could become sick very easily. Always asks for a heads up before a family visit.

- Won’t tell anyone but, late at night if he’s not busy, he’ll do things around the castle for the humans, especially upkeep for Otto and Emma, while they sleep.

- Dusting hard to reach spots like chandeliers, organizing books in the old castle library, moving heavy furniture and stuff since he can fly.

-Low key drags Rudy and Anna into helping him clean

(”But Gregory, this is our home now too! I’m sure they don’t mind.”

“Humans are fragile, and they’re letting us stay here out of kindness, so don’t be rude. Clean up after yourself little brother.”

“He’s right you know.”

“Of course I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning the rafters Anna, and stop leaving your books everywhere for them to pick up.”

‘hmph.” )

- Of the vampires he’s lowkey the best at cooking human food. Tony, Rudy, and Anna just walk into the kitchen at night and Fredrick is just watching his eldest, genuinely amused, as he dances around the kitchen in a “Kill the Cook (Too late, I’m already dead)” apron, blasting out dad rock from the stereo.

-Bonds with the Thompsons over cooking human food, especially Tony’s dad after he teaches Gregory what an “air guitar” move is.

-Gregory discovers pinterest food aesthetics, and is a machine of baking, mixing, and decorating sweet candies/cakes/brownies. He wants his food to look pretty dang it.

- Anna and Rudy just watch, silently judging him.

Anna:

- She’s just thriving tbh.

- She has internet access now, and her brothers have never been more terrified.

-If Gregory is the vampire equivalent of a pinterest mommy, Anna is the vampire equivalent of creepy diy aesthetic tiktokers.

-Not like, bloody horror diy, but like, the subtly creepy but still sweet kind, like the Addams family or Coraline.

- She learned needle arts with her mom, so she’s out here sewing Coraline dolls, or patchwork dresses a la Nightmare Before Christmas cause she CAN.

-Makes her own handbag with those felt cartoonish vampire faces and big fake bat ears on the side.

-Learns more modern patterns and stuff, but will make masks for the humans as gifts, cause she doesn’t want them to get sick.

- After watching Coraline together, she made “Other Me” dolls of her brothers, button eyes included, and stuck them in their coffins. She would make them “move’ by flying them around to different rooms when her brothers weren’t looking, just to freak them out.

- Spoiler alert: it worked. They ran to Tony for help and she laughed over it for days.

- Anna loves adventure books to Rudy’s poetry and Gregory’s fables/folk tales. She hates being excluded from her brothers “adventures”.

-Tony introduces her to comics and video games and she just lives her best life.

-One of her favorite comic book character is Cassandra Cain/Blackbat/The Orphan.

- She loves books like Matilda, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Giver, as well as games like the Lara Croft/Tomb Raider series.

-VICIOUS at video games, this girl has no mercy, she will blue shell you so hard.

The Adults:

-Life is Hard(TM) right now, but the Thompson’s try to make the best of it. They’re very grateful to Otto and Emma for letting them stay.

-They’re both working remotely, so they’re a little messed up sleep schedule wise. But that’s ok, their vampire friends don’t seem to mind.

- Freda teaches Dottie how to make proper tea, cause she likes it and Dottie is sort of addicted to caffeine. Dottie teaches Freda how to make mochas and smoothies, Dottie likes mango-pineapple smoothies and Freda likes hot white chocolate mochas with cinnamon.

-Surprisingly, Frederick and Bob become pretty good friends. Frederick understands the stress of having to care for your family in very uncertain times, and the two men bond over unsure parental decisions.

-Bob is also surprisingly good at making Frederick loosen up, much to Freda and Dottie’s amusement. While initially awkward, they have a surprisingly snarky and sarcastic sort of friendship. Frederick deadpans insults at him and Bob cheerfully annoys him into Being Nice For Once while being completely aware of the fact that he’s annoying Frederick.

-Meals where Bob cooks often consists of him singing oldies into his spatula, making bad impression of certain singers, including Elvis and Cher. He is occasionally joined by Tony and Gregory, making the entire family laugh.

- Anna’s bones may be old, but she can hand sew like a goddess, and has occasionally taken to fixing up the kids’ torn clothes, as Dottie can barely keep straight lines and Freda prefers knitting.

- Someone (read: Freda) mentions that Frederick can play the cello, and after a rousing performance, it turns out that Otto can play an accordion, and of course Bob can play the guitar. A jam session occurs as the kids just stare in utter bewilderment.

- Tony’s grandparents were kinda hippies, so Bob and Dottie know a lot of oldies and folk songs, which while different than from what they normally hear, Otto and Anna connect too. They swap songs back and forth, and it turns out Dottie can do a mean Loretta lynn impression.

- Dottie likes the Beach Boys, and teaches the others how to Twist. As in, the dance, and Freda actually likes it quite a bit.

#the little vampire 3d #the little vampire #TLV #rudolf sackville-bagg #gregory sackville-bagg #anna sackville bagg #tony thompson #quarantine #is fever writing a thing???#I think it is #This is fever writing #Forgive me fandom for I have sinned

57 notes · View notes