#going to be ceru's painting

[siphoklansan]

🤔 dunno ya too well yet since we’re new moots but Jamil and Leona cause from what I’ve seen it seems like a funny dynamic 😭😭 plus your sona would look good w em!!!!!!

YEAAGSJHSJBHSB JAMIL AGAIN RAHHHHH YOU SEE THAT JAMIL🤨IT’S MEANT TO BEEEEEEE🗣️‼️‼️ this is exactly why he’d hate me /j BUT YES I think it’ll be a very funny dynamic tbh

I’M GLAD YOU THINK MY PERSONA LOOKS GOOD WITH THEM ARGSHJDHSHDKLEHHS AND THE FACT THAT THESE TWO ARE MY FAVES

[whumpflash]

Penumbra: Unwise

(a very belated) Angstpril, Day 29: Mistake (Alt)

cw: illness, beating, violence, war mentions

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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Tansy woke to the thin line of dawn on the horizon, their body stiff from sleeping on the wooden floor. They stretched quietly, massaging the back of their neck with one hand, then went to check on Cerus. 

The wool blanket was twisted and tangled around his sleeping form, as if he'd been restless all through the night. A little color had returned to his cheeks, but not enough to paint even an illusion of wellness, and there was a sheen of sweat on his pale brow. As they straightened the blankets, he let out a weak, rasping cough.

Cerus was ill, no doubts to be had there, and the cough made them suspect a chest infection. Gone were the thoughts of turning him over to the docks after a single night's rest. Combined with his injuries and malnourished state, recovery wasn't looking particularly bright, and would be impossible should they send him back to work.

They'd have to go into town today and visit the apothecary. A healer's herbs would ease his fever, and a draught of hot wine with honey and garlic should help his lungs. As they pick up their cloak and left their room, Tansy stole a glance back. When Cerus lay unconscious and silent in the bed, his winding black tattoos concealed by the blanket, they could almost forget who it was they were tending to.

Yesterday's rain had cooled the day considerably, and Tansy could see their breath as they stepped into the morning air and made their way towards the town. Their uncle was still asleep when they set off, and they'd left out honeyed bread and smoked fish for his breakfast. Once they returned, they'd prepare a hot meal to warm themselves from the cold, and hopefully coax a little more strength into Cerus.

Out near the water, the villagers were already going about their day. Tansy snuck a glance at the shipyard, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe they'd assumed Cerus had perished in the storm, and couldn't care less.

They didn't know if they should feel more relieved or disturbed by the notion.

Tansy strode into the apothecary, wasting no time in glancing over the bottled teas and herbs and colorful dried fruits on their way to the counter. The elderly man who'd once tended this shop was gone, they knew. Lost to old age or the war, replaced by a woman with a kind face and close-cropped white hair.

Enough had changed in the years since their childhood that they could nearly pretend they weren't home at all, and this was just another strange village. That was easier than the alternative; accepting how unrecognizable their home was now, accepting the fact that they'd come back just as changed.

"Hello dear, did you need a remedy? Sickness comes with the winter. Best to stay prepared."

Tansy offered the woman a smile, trying not to let their expression betray their thoughts. "What do you have for a fever?"

"Ah. Illness already gotten to your household?" she queried, running slender brown fingers along the shelves bottles behind the counter.

"Afraid so," Tansy said, deliberately keeping their answer short.

"I pray those affected make a swift recovery."

You wouldn't if you knew who it was. Or would she? The woman was a healer by trade, but would she have shown mercy to the Shadow King?

The healer selected a pair of jars, slipping a bit of each into a small leather pouch. "Boil a spoonful in water and serve it as a tea. Twice daily," she said, handing Tansy the pouch. "Be well, and be careful on your journey home."

"Careful?" Tansy slid a pair of coins across the wooden counter, tucking the pouch into their cloak. "What for?"

"Did you not hear? The Shadow King has escaped."

Their mouth went bone-dry as the words passed her lips. "Escaped?"

"Aye, he's abandoned his station. No one knows where he's gone, or what trouble he could have brewing."

As if he were capable of even standing right now, much less causing problems. Tansy was tempted to tell her the truth of it, if only to ease her worries, but what would she say? 'Oh I understand. You can't stand to see him suffer. The man who sent armies to raze and kill and burn throughout the kingdom. I understand.'

They kept their mouth shut, giving the woman a short nod, and leaving.

Whispers seemed to follow them as they made their way back through town, and Tansy couldn't tell if the villagers' voices were growing stronger with the daylight, or their sudden fear of discovery was what drove them to hear every word.

'Cerus is gone.'

'I hear he's reclaimed his magic. If that's true, the village is in danger.'

'A party has gone out to find him before it's too late.'

That last murmur quickened their pace. If that was so, they'd have to get to Cerus before anyone else did. 

But why? Why not let them claim him before any more trouble came down on Tansy's head? They'd done all they could within the bounds of the law, and going up against a frightened and angry village in Cerus's defense was a fool's errand. Besides, it wasn't as if he wanted their help. He'd made that perfectly clear.

But as they crested the hill and saw their uncle's house in the distance, half-ringed by a dozen men, their heart turned to lead in their chest. And as the door opened and a pair of villagers dragged Cerus outside, throwing his limp form to the ground, Tansy broke into a run. 

A few of the men turned their heads as they came up the road, looks of confusion plain on their faces, but any words of explanation lodged in Tansy's throat. What would they say? Ask them to leave Cerus be and go about their business? Apologize for all the fuss and let them drag him back to the docks, where he'd surely die? Neither option seemed right, but they didn't know what else to do.

Brushing off Tansy's intrusion, the party returned their attention to Cerus. A tall man planted a kick in his side, and the movement finally freed Tansy's voice.

"Stop!" they shouted, pushing into the circle. "Can't you see he's sick?"

The men nearest to them exchanged glances. "What of it?" one said.

"Look at him," they snapped, moving to stand between Cerus and the tall man. "He's had enough. He needs to rest."

One of the group, a broad, black-haired fellow, snorted. "Bastard doesn't deserve rest. Stand aside."

"Not unless you swear you won't hurt him," Tansy persisted.

"You a loyalist to the old kingdom?"

They scowled. "No, I–"

"Then stand aside."

Tansy grimaced, tempted to concede, to disappear into Uncle Aldon's house and forget this ever happened. A small, buried part of them found agreement with the black-haired man; the tyrant who'd brought so much despair onto the land didn't deserve a reprieve from his own misery. Then, out of the corner of their eye, they saw the tall man aim another kick at Cerus, his boot connecting with the mass of bandages on the downed man's back, drawing a sound from him that was more a hopeless wail than a cry of pain.

Fuck it.

Tansy whirled around, dealing a well-placed punch to the tall man's jaw and sending him crumpling to the ground. The other men were on them in an instant, but instinct took over before Tansy could second guess their actions. Fighting came naturally to them. They'd never started any brawls at the war camps, but they'd never had any problem finishing them.

They ducked under a ham-fisted strike from the black haired man, popping him in the nose for his efforts.

"Leave him alone," they spat. Around them, the rest of the search party seemed to have overcome their initial surprise. Tansy knew they could put up a hell of a fight, even outnumbered as they were, but instead of lashing out again, they stood in front of Cerus, fists held up in warning.

They took a deep breath, and slowly uncurled their hands. "Listen–"

Someone's fist shot out, hitting them in the stomach before they could react, and they hunched over with a grunt. More blows followed; a punch that grazed their cheekbone, a kick to the back of their knees that sent them to the ground.

"Conspirator, eh?" One of the men spit onto the road. "Thought you said you weren't a loyalist."

"I'm not—" another kick to the gut cut them off, and they curled in on themselves. They were a soldier. They would've cut Cerus down in a heartbeat, should they have met him in battle. They would've burned his castle to the ground. Wielded the executioner's blade themselves.

But they wouldn't kick a man when he was down. No matter who he was.

"We'll have to find somewhere to lock 'em up until the Council hears of this." The black-haired man was addressing the rest of the party now, his voice thick with pain. "I'll die before the Shadow King rises again."

Gods no, it wasn't like that at all. How could they look at Cerus, broken as he was, and even consider that? How could they think Tansy would be willing to help him reconquer the realm? 

Anger began to bubble up inside them. At the men, for their ignorance, for their cruelty. At Cerus, the Shadow King, and all he'd done before his fall. At themselves, for being so stupid. 

And at the very sea, for compelling them to stop and watch. For drawing their eye to the fallen tyrant's suffering in the first place.

It would've been different, they knew. Had they simply heard Cerus was working at their village's shipyard, they would've avoided the place entirely. Turned a blind eye, like everyone else. It had taken the witnessing of an act of cruelty to force their hand. And would they have still run to his aid, had they known it was the Shadow King? Would they have brought him home and given him their bed, had they known it would end with them lying beaten beside him in the dirt?

No. Yes. It didn't matter.

It didn't matter now.

Calloused hands found Tansy's wrists, and crossed them behind their back, winding cord around and around and tying it tight. Beside them, Cerus—pale and shaking and half-conscious—was given the same treatment.

Tears of frustration burned their eyes as they were hauled to their feet.

"I'm not a loyalist. I fought against him—" they tried again, but were only met with a harsh slap across the face.

"Council will be the judge of that," said the tall man. One side of his jaw was reddened, the sure start of a bruise. "But I know what I saw."

And as they were dragged down the road, side-by-side with the king they'd helped dethrone, the man they'd tried to save, Tansy couldn't help but feel as if they'd made the wrong choice.

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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles @honeycollectswhump @chibichibivale @whatwhumpcomments , @dont-look-me-in-the-eye , @turn-the-tables-on-them ,

[mewpangxin]

—🎈WRITERS AND ARTISTS APPRECIATION POST🧸— Contents: I'm being quite expressive AXCHOL-

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @the-v-lociraptor

Ayo, Raps, you are incredibly awesome, I would be down to know about your yuusona, an enthusiast Riddle fan I can simply sense it. Classic choice 😌! I have seen glimpses of you chatting with Ceru and it's only a few crumbs and holy, your brainrot has me invested about your oc lore and background. If we talk more together then I could rant longer---

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @twistedtalking / (Already sent.)

I gotta say, your concept is unique, I commend you for keeping the characters as accurate as the source material your best as a fellow newer twst writer. Love your incorrect quotes, your ramblings and your humor within the fics you do too. You're doing fantastically and I'm here to cheer you!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @suiseisyojo / (Already sent.)

Your headcanons and stories are magnificent, Shye 🥺✨ I feel there's an air of being so well-put, something that when I look, it's like a fairytale with many wondrous moments happening inside and how you display is unprecedented, it's one of my favorites. Your characterization on the boys had me amazed when I go over it to study how it came to be. I love the header and fonts you have ♥️ it's a line with color like pink or black I suppose 🍬

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @ceruleancattail /(Already sent.)

Let me think how I'll break it down into words, your stories are as if they are cotton candies, tarts, so picture yourself getting thrown into a dream that has scenery so wonderful that you don't want to ever wake up from. In truth, anything sinister is hiding beneath that welcoming grace, the inhabitants there just won't let you leave💕 Your writing is both a paradise and can be nightmare depending on the will of your hands.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @kurukuryu / (Already sent.)

When I think about your art, it's as if I'm at a cafe ♥︎ where I can smell a lot variety of sweets with dozens of grand aesthetics paintings! Your sketches are marshmallows, I want to gobble them up honestly <33 they are precious, made me melt on my mind too🌷 I like seeing you talking about everything in general, your yume, ocs, literally anything. And I hope I can be a good friend to you ☕️ˊˎ·˚ ༘

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @cxlemon / @cxsinesis

I have to say, your portrayals are ornate and euphemistic to look and read at. In my opinion, the imagery, metaphors, how you deliver had me think that it's not just standard actions. Makes me wonder how many years and efforts did it take you to polish your vocabularies and style. Because it's an art and a masterpiece. Other nsfw fics highlights more on the behavior part, that's great too but there's loftiness in your themes and narration. You gave me inspiration on what I might do🥺

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @kunehori

Your illustrations are hypnotizing, it's as if I'm at the ocean, listening to seagulls chirping, it's peaceful, and I feel so happy and smile like a moron when I saw you on my dash. You can draw and devise texts to form a whole universe with the tip of your brush and on papers. It's fluffy. Beautiful. You captured my attention to your ideas and words. I'm speechless and honored you're here, Ari. (Ty for being a pal on my main too andgjshdheb.)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @cupids-chamber

When I visualize about the imparting, it leaves butterflies in my stomach, it's so melodious to my ears, I would never get bored by your writing because it's like I'm in a land of ethereal with spells and myths. You have stolen my sight and mind. I'm enamored to whatever you described in the fable. You have motivated me to broaden my perspectives on that fanfics are frankly precious to me.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @blues824

YOUR DILIGENCE IS ADMIRABLE. You did for a lot of fandoms in your account, ranging from anime to even webtoons, you must be experienced on what you're doing, absolutely no doubt on it. And ahem, if you ever have a side blog, lemme notice, I'll be the first to follow you on it because you're amazing. Like seriously, I meant my praise 🍰

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @siphoklansan

Gurl, you have the most delicious abilities to craft things. I hope you will get excellent scores on tests by the way, rooting for you all the way there. I love how you transform our Thai culture and adapted it into your comic panels, it's truly refreshing because I'm very much immersed to when you verbalized it.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @oepionie

It's official that you are one of my favorites. Your headcanons, drabbles, and fics are poetic. They are what grasped my heart, had me blush and squeal to myself whenever I turned around to scrutinize them. Kind of like how it's luring me into the rabbit hole where Alice has once fallen into a dark abyss. To the unknown and it's going to be adventurous 🌻

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @treytheslay

I eat up your yandere and dark contents, especially if it's about my fav twst characters. Looking forward to the series and what you will plan in your blog. I'm weak to your prompts because I am so fond and curious on what type you will brew up for us to consume next. Will it be angst? Heartbreaking?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @miinprn /Not related in twst fandom.

I have been a mutual with you a long time on twt, ever since tog and etc, your doodles and personality is just so comforting to be with and I adore how you color and draw your portraits, they are super pretty. Never stop being yourself, okay? I will always be here for you and encourage you to your goal🪴

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @hxjikonn

I am feral for your literature dear Haji, god tier stuff right there, I'm telling you 100% because I'm nuts for your imagination and snippets you have. I am totally fine with you being on hiatus as well. Drink a lot of water, have a great break as you look after yourself in reality and managing your life<3

[robo-milky]

"Hey, Cloche" -

The soft spoken voice was very well heard, yet never failed to take you by surprise, even if you'd always guess it was the stealthy water nymph in retrospect.

But the soft, genuine, and if you dared to say- fond look on her face today was in a way, new. You'd seen this before, but it was different every time, including now, when it was directed your way.

Tomorrow morning would be time your special day.

The Water Nymph you've grown to recognize as Rubia, the one who visited Ramshackle to play card games with Ceru and Siphok- who'd always insist you join in on the fun too- only leaving for her shift at monstro lounge when The Vice Dormwarden of Octavinelle came to pick her up personally.

She handed you a small package, saying "I'm sorry" so quietly you'd almost miss it.

Before you asked 'why', she clarified; "i didn't know tomorrow was gonna be your day until a few hours ago," Rubia murmured, "-but i managed to get you the present i had in mind." , and with a subtle turn of her head and a smile, she added "I'd say you should open it tomorrow, for the full experience."

"it's your special day starting in the morning; so, it's on the house if you decide to have breakfast in the lounge. Call me and i'll make something for you."

Rubia offers politely before stepping back-

"-But its best if you return to your dorm for now; it's late and it'd be better if you got there safely before it's pitch black. "

-gesturing outside, ah- The sun's setting- and, with that cue, you offer a polite wave before parting ways.

..

[the gift includes a brand new camera, you remind yourself to never ask how she got her hands on it-, a square multi-media sketchbook hardcover sketchbook, alongside some colored pencils and gouache.]

[There is a handwritten note, it reads; "Artwork is the reason why even as a tiny nymphling i dreamed of going the day i could go on land. And when i did? I was not let down, not one bit. Taking pictures of what i see and then painting them to solidify my memory is one of the most special things that bring me comfort; and i hope you enjoy it more too, with this new memory i'm sharing with you." -Rubia A. Octavinelle's Water Nymph]

a/n: happy birthday..!!!! please treat yourself to something nice, and i hope you have a wonderful time, i don't know you too well but i admire your artwork lots! maybe we could be moots someday? ehe

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash]

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Sculptor

Chapter 7 - Strictly Professional

[Masterpost] [AO3]

-/-

“I want to lick him,” Wei Wuxian whines into the protective shield of his hands cupped over his face. He’s met with shockingly little sympathy from his companions, but then again they’ve had to hear about every passing crush he’s gotten for the last ten plus years so he supposes that’s only fair. They don’t know yet that Lan Wangji is different, they don’t understand that he’s a fucking god!

“A-Ying,” Xiao Xingchen tuts softly, amused at his expense though he’d never say so, and Wei Wuxian parts his fingers enough to glare at the man who’s basically become his Uncle over the years. Everyone in their social circle’s Uncle, really.

“Haven’t you or Uncle Zichen seen him coming into the studio?? You should know what I mean!”

“He’s very handsome, yes,” Xiao Xingchen comforts and pats him on the head. “He is also, as you’ve told us, married and seemingly happy enough about that fact. You’re not a homewrecker, A-Ying.”

“I know,” he wails, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t still want to see what he’s capable of!”

“Hey, you never know - they might be swingers,” Nie Huaisang pipes up from the kitchen where he’s making some sort of alcoholic concoction that’ll probably knock even Wei Wuxian flat on his ass. “Apparently plenty of people are trying it now, not just the usual crew.” The ‘usual crew’ being roughly a quarter of the queer community between their town and the neighboring one, from what Wei Wuxian has heard. He’s never gotten a straight answer on whether or not Nie Huaisang is included in that group, but he certainly knows a lot about them either way.

“I think for swinging to work two sets of partners must be willing to trade for the evening, A-Sang,” Xiao Xingchen reminds him kindly. “And poor A-Ying is all alone-”

“Okay enough, give me a drink,” Wei Wuxian says around an aggrieved laugh, launching himself off the sofa between his ‘uncles’ to join Nie Huaisang in the kitchen and slam back whatever’s in the glass his friend holds out to him. He doesn’t want to think about Lan Wangji swinging, he doesn’t want to think of him being married, he doesn’t want to think about his own tragically small dating pool or trying to fly under the radar in a town that’s still mostly ‘normal’ couples who, for all their claimed open-mindedness, still apparently struggle with having a queer network fucking around somewhat visibly right under their noses.

He’s spent the week watching Lan Wangji gradually become more and more comfortable with getting half-naked for him as he works on a mixture of compositions for the commission and portraits of Lan Wangji in various useful poses when he just can’t bear not to draw him, and it’s been driving him up the wall.

He’s seen plenty of nude models - men, women, it doesn’t matter. It’s always business, it’s always professional. It’s hard to get turned on by a naked body when in a room full of other students all drawing the same figure, or when the model is someone who’s barely dragged themself out of an alcohol- or drug-induced coma to come pose for him for whatever bit of cash he can spare.

But Lan Wangji is different. Wei Wuxian likes him, genuinely, truly, as a person first and a business partner (of sorts) second. It’s charming to watch him face his own deeply-held modesty and reticence and slowly, carefully shed it for Wei Wuxian’s sake. Of course it’s for his own sake as well - he’d said on day one that he needs the money - but if it wasn’t something he wanted to do then Wei Wuxian knows that he’s more than qualified to go into town and find something else to do for some spare cash. Lan Wangji doesn’t have to pose for him, and yet he does. He does, and Wei Wuxian is going to die before the end of this commission. 

“Hmm I don’t know about that, love,” Xiao Xingchen hums and Wei Wuxian glances over his shoulder to watch Song Zichen signing to his partner. 

“Absolutely not!” Wei Wuxian yelps when he sees the direction this is going. “No way, I’m not inviting him over! He’s a really nice man and all but I don’t know if he’s okay with..”

“Us,” Nie Huaisang mutters in a way that encompasses far more people than just the four of them in Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen’s tiny apartment.

“Yeah. That,” Wei Wuxian sighs, deflating a little.

“Do what you feel is best, A-Ying,” Song Zichen tells him, his expression as grave as it typically is, hands moving steadily - he’s always good like that, calm and matter-of-fact. The perfect balance to Xiao Xingchen’s teasing nature. “I think we’re all curious to meet him and help you figure this out, but keep yourself safe above anything else.”

“Thanks Uncle Zichen,” Wei Ying sighs. They move on to lighter topics then, but Wei Wuxian’s heart isn’t really in it tonight. He’s too distracted with thoughts of his extremely unavailable, completely wonderful Lan Zhan, and he heads home early instead of staying the night like he usually would.

Wei Wuxian isn’t a man of many vices. He likes sweets more than is strictly healthy, and alcohol is always a ‘yes’. He smokes weed with Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen in their side of the studio every so often when he really needs to relax. He likes attractive men and he’s picked up a decent few of them from the gay bar on the edge of town over the years with ah..mixed results.

The next morning, he picks up smoking again - his most accessible vice by far. It’s something he’s done off and on since he was still a young teenager bumming off the Jiangs, though the habits became a much more casual flirtation after his disowning. The casual flirtations when he has the money for it - and annoying withdrawals for a while when the money runs out, though he’s always fine again eventually. He doesn’t really bother worrying about the whys and wherefores of it, most of the time. If he finds his fingers itching for a cigarette and he’s got the cash he’ll buy as many packs as he feels like and work his way through them at whatever pace is comfortable, no emotional reflection necessary.

The point being - something about all this Lan Wangji business makes him want something more to do with his hands than fiddle around in the studio, so he picks up a few packs on Saturday morning and he’s got one of them sticking out of the chest pocket of his overalls when Lan Wangji gets to the studio on Monday morning. Wei Wuxian is half wondering if he’ll say something about it when he spots it, but if he notices he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead he just greets Wei Wuxian the same as ever and, as has now become routine over the past week, starts stripping.

Wei Wuxian can’t help but watch. It’s torture - it’s unprofessional, probably slightly creepy torture - but Lan Wangji practically turns it into a striptease without even seeming to realize it. He follows the same procedure he had that first day: Shoes off. Socks, neatly folded. Belt open. Trousers open. Shirt. Undershirt. Friday had been the first day Lan Wangji had left his trousers open even after hanging everything up, and apparently that’s the next step of this process because he does it again now, the button and the placket for it on the other side hanging open just a bit as Lan Wangji turns back to face him. He doesn’t unzip, but he doesn’t have to. Wei Wuxian is still fantasizing about doing it for him with his teeth.

“Progress,” Wei Wuxian grins when he can say something that isn’t some form of ‘dear god please bite me on the ass’. Lan Wangji seems shyly pleased by that, ducking his head a bit in a nod with his trusty, “Mn.” Wei Wuxian wonders if he’s going to survive the day Lan Wangji works up to getting naked, but that’s a worry for future Wei Wuxian. For now, he has work to do.

He’s settled on a composition over the weekend, finally, and he heads over to sit next to Lan Wangji on the couch to show it to him and explain what he thinks they’ll need for the pose. He’s sketched it out a few times from a couple of different angles with notes scribbled around the margins of the pages, and he can’t help but laugh when Lan Wangji does his best not to frown at it as he attempts to decode it.

“It’s a jumbled disaster, I know,” he soothes. “You don’t have to say it, I can see it on your face. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get into position and I’ll tell you if I need you to do something different. Are your trousers going to have enough give for this?”

“Likely not,” Lan Wangji says with genuine regret in his voice and a definite frown on his face now - frustration at himself? That won’t do.

“Ah that’s fine! We’ll just see how far we can get like this for now. You’ll have to work up to holding this anyway, I don’t expect perfection now. Or ever, really, no one can be perfect.”

“Mn.” Wei Wuxian glances at his friend again to find him looking mollified, and that’s better than nothing. Of course now comes Wei Wuxian’s second major test of self-control of the day - and it’s not even 10am yet, for god’s sake! He stands up off the couch again to return the sketches to the easel. He snags the bucket he’d sat on that first day and turns it over again, the bottom of it a few inches lower than the cushions on the divan, and he sets it down in front of one side of the sofa. A pillow from his stash is tossed on top, and then Wei Wuxian makes a little ‘ta-da’ gesture at it that Lan Wangji looks thoroughly unimpressed by.

“For your shoulders,” Wei Wuxian explains. “Did you think I was going to make you hang your whole torso off the couch and hold yourself up by your abs alone?”

“It crossed my mind,” Lan Wangji says, because Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t ever lie. He snorts at that and very pointedly doesn’t think about how nicely that would make Lan Wangji’s already well-defined abs stand out even further.

“Nah, that’s never going to be sustainable, and I’d prefer to do this with as little damage to you as possible. Wen Qing probably won’t thank me if you go home with a sore back every day for the rest of the summer.”

“Mn.” As always, Wei Wuxian can’t get a solid read on Lan Wangji’s thoughts when he mentions his wife, but on the bright side they’ve both mentioned her in passing so much that casual conversation about her doesn’t make him despair for his sanity. Just his heart, which, honestly, has been broken so many times in his life that he hardly feels it anymore no matter how much he whines to his very understanding little found family.

“Mhm. Ready to use a sofa in a way that would give your uncle a heart attack?” Wei Wuxian snickers and pointedly ignores the intensity of Lan Wangji’s glare at the side of his head in favor of crossing behind the sofa to tap the top of with both palms. “Come on, give me your feet. Time to get started!”

Lan Wangji sighs but does as he asks, turning around as primly as he can while bare-chested with his trousers unbuttoned, and then he’s slinging his legs up over the back of the couch into Wei Wuxian’s waiting hands.

It’s the first time he’s touched Lan Wangji directly, he realizes the moment his hands wrap firmly around the knobby bones of his ankles. It almost makes him jump, the warmth of skin on skin and the soft rasp of Lan Wangji’s sparse leg hair against his fingertips, but if Lan Wangji is similarly startled it’s hidden by the way he’s shifting to try to redistribute his weight evenly while unable to fully relax his legs. Wei Wuxian holds him steady and waits for him to find the makeshift prop with his shoulders, and then it’s just waiting through the slow process of him readjusting in small increments until he’s settled.

Wei Wuxian waits again for his hum before he lets go, and then he crosses back around to the front of the sofa to lean down at the waist and tip his head a bit to the side, mischievous smile already pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Comfy?” he teases a semi-upside-down Lan Wangji, who still somehow manages to give him a decent glare with no real heat behind it.

“Not particularly. I will manage.”

“You’ll get there, don’t worry. We’ll work on the legs some other day, but for now can I reposition your arms where I need them?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian is suddenly distinctly glad that he’d touched Lan Wangji’s ankles first and got that initial shock out of the way, since he’s pretty sure if he’d gotten to touch his hands first he might have actually died. As it is, he settles on his knees behind Lan Wangji’s head - careful not to kneel on his hair - and reaches down the length of him to take his wrists in his hands, coaxing them carefully away from where he’s holding them loosely crossed over his stomach.

“Relax your shoulders,” he encourages, his voice quieter than usual as he gently, reverently manipulates Lan Wangji’s arms where he wants. Lan Wangji takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, his entire body shifting with it the way he’s spread out like this, stomach and chest rising smoothly and then back down again when he exhales. “Good,” Wei Wuxian praises without thinking, and he feels it under his fingertips on the inside of his wrist when Lan Wangji’s heartbeat skitters, sees his fingers twitch before he relaxes again. 

Lan Wangji stays relaxed for him though, and so Wei Wuxian makes relatively short work of getting him where he needs him, his right arm straight up and then bent at the elbow to frame the top of his head, left arm flung out to the side helplessly. By the time he’s finished Lan Wangji looks utterly debauched, his hair splayed out on the floor beneath him and arms akimbo, as if he’d fallen over the sofa and simply stayed where he landed, boneless and exhausted. Wei Wuxian can’t quite resist pressing his palm against Lan Wangji’s stomach when he’s finished, his fingers splayed over the soft give of his diaphragm just beneath his sternum. Lan Wangji doesn’t even twitch.

“How do you feel?”

Lan Wangji is quiet for long enough that Wei Wuxian takes his hand off him and leans back, putting more weight on where he’s sitting on his heels to better meet Lan Wangji’s eyes despite the fact that he’s upside down.

“Lan Zhan?”

“I feel fine,” he says, quite a few beats too late for Wei Wuxian’s peace of mind. “You are correct that I will not be able to hold it for too long, but it is not offensively uncomfortable.”

“That’s alright, just so long as you can hold it for long enough today for me to block out where you are,” Wei Wuxian soothes, and then he forces himself to stand up and take a few steps back to double check his positioning. He walks a slow circle around the set-up to make sure he likes it from every angle (unfortunately it’s much harder to be unbiased when he’s looking at Lan Wangji from every angle, but he perseveres, he’s very brave), and when he’s satisfied he crosses over to his cabinet of supplies to rummage around for a large stick of white chalk.

When he finds it and returns to Lan Wangji it’s to find the man’s eyes shut and his breathing deep as if in meditation, or maybe just sleeping. Wei Wuxian moves carefully around him, quietly tracing out the artificially clumsy fall of his arms and drawing a circle around the rim of the bucket beneath him so he’ll know precisely where to place it again should he need to move it. He carefully gathers up Lan Wangji’s hair in his free hand and holds it up out of the way so he can finish lining his shoulders, and when he glances at his face his eyes are open again, silently watching.

Wei Wuxian blushes a little and goes back to what he’s doing, but now that he knows Lan Wangji is watching, his gaze is like a physical weight on his shoulders, the warm heavy press of hands, thumbs massaging circles into the perpetually-tight muscles at the back of his neck. He wonders if Lan Wangji does that for Wen Qing after hours spent at her desk - she’s a professor too, after all, he has to imagine they both get all knotted up from sitting all day long. He knows he does if he spends too long at the easel, and he’s frequently wished over the years that he had someone around just to rub his shoulders if absolutely nothing else.

Lan Wangji seems like the kind of husband who would do that.

“All done,” Wei Wuxian announces when he’s released Lan Wangji’s hair and finished carefully outlining the knuckles of his outstretched hand, his fingers curled loosely towards his palm. “Do you need to get up and stretch for a moment before I get to work?”

“No, I am fine.”

“Alright. Just speak up the moment you want to take a break, okay?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian stands and takes a deep breath in. He gives himself one more moment to ‘check’ Lan Wangji’s positioning (read: blatantly ogle) and then he retreats safely behind his easel to get to work.

[cerussitel]

My gemsona.

She is a cerussite, and she calls herself Ceru. She's kind and she's laid back, but her sense of humour is dark and dry, and she'll smile while her voice is quite deadpan despite herself. She is kind of a bastard sometimes, she's sardonic and a smartass. She enjoys cigarettes and alcohol. She found a stiletto knife in a pawn shop and fell in love with it. She is not nearly as edgy as she would like to seem.

Cerussites were made by the Diamonds to be scouts. They would fly alone in small ships to planets or other celestial bodies to inspect and run tests on the mineral qualities there. Those tests would determine whether said location had the correct mineral properties to host kindergartens. If the planet was qualified, the cerussites would relay a message to Homeworld so other gems would come out to install a warp and begin work (long after the cerussites moved on to another location). Because cerussites flew alone in their ships, they sometimes would not interact with another gem for thousands of years depending on the distance of their assignments. Every once in a while a cerussite would be summoned back to Homeworld for one reason or another, but it was rare.

They have no summoned weapons to speak of; the Diamonds believed there was no need for them at the time they were created. The only cerussites made were in one or two early batches by the Diamonds, not in kindergartens. They initially were not meant to be expendable. Since they don't report to their managers unless they find something, the Diamonds just assume they're all fine and in working order even though most have been lost or shattered.

Cerussites haven't found many suitable planets statistically speaking, with the dozens of them flying around the expanse of space. Eventually the Diamonds found a more practical method of finding planets to terraform, but thought "Eh they're out there already, let ‘em keep doing their searches, it will be useful again at some point."

Ceru spent just about all her life scouting and roaming in her ship alone, the only outside contact she had was on a screen inside her ship with her manager or maybe Yellow Diamond. She didn't actually know anything about Pink Diamond's shattering because the Diamonds didn't think to tell any of the scouts. They were such an afterthought at that point and it wouldn't concern them anyway. None of the cerussites were informed anything had changed whatsoever until Steven made his broadcast. Ceru was luckily in her ship at the time and saw it. Until then she was just carrying on with her work and thought everything was fine.

She didn't like being alone, she missed Homeworld because the first few years she spent there while the gems got everything together to send the cerussites out, they were allowed to do basically whatever she wanted and got accustomed to friendly company. While she had returned to Homeworld a couple of times, she was only there for a short amount of time and didn't have the same freedoms as before she’d left the first time. She was afraid to flee and or return home against orders because she was terrified of being hunted down, found and shattered.

By the time she is made aware of the current state of things at the beginning of Era 3, she's lonely and touch starved and hates what she does because she wants to be able to come home to at least be around other gems. After Steven's broadcast, it took Ceru a while to get to Little Homeworld. She got there after Steven left Beach City.

No other cerussites returned (they were either shattered on new planets that had dangerous life since they were defenseless, or they didn't see the broadcast, or they just didn't want to).

When she arrived on earth she was pretty overwhelmed, but still excited to finally be able to do what she wanted, and be around other gems.

She didn't enroll in the school, but she found a wood shed (leftover from an old cabin maybe) in the forest behind Little Homeworld; she lives there. It's dilapidated and run down but she doesn't mind, she just wants a small space to have peace and quiet when she needs it. She likes solitude, but she doesn't want to be alone or lonely.

She wanted to go to Earth because it was new, and not strict and depressing like Homeworld was the last time she was there.

She stayed because it was beautiful and she made friends.

---

The mineral cerussite is lead carbonate/white lead & is also called lead spar. It's very soft (3 on the mohs scale) and because it's poisonous it shouldn't be worn in jewelry and you shouldn't really handle it. (But it's beautiful, I have a few pieces in my collection)

It's very commonly twinned and the crystal formations are always interesting. You wouldn't usually facet or cab a cerussite, you don't want to get lead dust in your lungs.

FUN FACT- lead paint was essentially made with cerussite.

ETA: more lore, updated gem.

[ask-cerus]

“So wait, the paint’s supposed to go /where/?”

“Everywhere, actually,” Cerus nodded back thoughtfully, watching the healers mix multi colored pigments into the oil-based mix the revelers would be using later on.

“Everywhere there’s skin exposed, to be precise,"Rume clarified, breezing past them, his hands stained a bloody red.

At Kira’s back, Amar snorted. "Much nicer effect on a fully naked body, I daresay,” he pointed out smugly, giving the royal guest a mischievously playful little smirk.

[siphoklansan]

Cinder Fernway ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

𝙊𝘾 𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙩

𝙏𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙊𝘾 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤 @ceruleancattail

The man, the myth, the legend‼️/j

No words, I just love Cinder. I love his hair. EVERYTHING URHFYHGRUHURFHU I ALWAYS WANTED TO DRAW HIM PROPERLY BECAUSE I ONLY DREW THE CHIBI VERSION OF HIM IN THE FADED MOON EVENT😭😭😭

I’m not sure but I remember something about Cinder’s eyes are supposed to be a very pale blue? Or maybe I’m just talking out of my own ass idk sorry ceru😔🙏

He’s holding a black leather bag (I know, doesn’t go with his outfit but I just HAVE TO SHOW HIS HAND WITH THE RINGS AND THE PAINTED NAILS RRAAAHSJHSUSNUSNJ)

Also another (not so) secret reason that I suddenly have a boost of motivation to draw him is because of a Thai song called Cinderalla - Tattoo Color and I just thought about Cinder. Had to draw him. The lyrics probably don’t fit him BUT AT LEAST THE TITLE DOES🕺

Anyway I hope you like this piece🥹🫶✨I know for one that I really enjoyed drawing him and coloring his hair <3333 I’m not the best at drawing hands do his hand might look a lil wonky😭

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Asking questions about your fics: Why did you decide on sculptor rather than painter for WWX?

An excellent question! So the original painting itself is titled The Sculptor though Koch himself (artist and subject) was actually a painter. But there’s the statue of Prometheus in the background in the subject’s workshop, so we know that the artist in question made it himself, definitely making him a sculptor rather than a painter.

Going a little bit deeper though - I’m actually a ceramicist myself, and I love making art that’s very physical. Like when I make my art my whole body is engaged, and the pieces that I make are a result of my physical interaction with the piece. My foot controls the pedal on the throwing wheel, my hands shape the clay, I used my arms and my body weight to wedge up the clay before I got started, I hauled around the bags of clay and measured out what I would need, etc. When it’s time to glaze my pieces I have to understand something of the chemical processes I’m engaging in to understand what needs to happen to make a finished piece - it’s a very physical and present thing, and I think that if Wei Wuxian were to be an artist he’d enjoy that aspect of it like I do. (It’s the ADHD, full body stimming/engagement makes brain go brrrrrrr)

Also, still going off of being very physically involved in the art - I find sculpture itself to be very sensual, in a way? You can look at a statue, especially something like what WWX is doing in the fic with making it out of clay first to be cast in bronze next, and you can sit and study all the contours of the piece. Every muscle, every delicate detail, is carefully made by the artist’s hands. Like I get a little emo about queer artists, in particular, sculpting the figures most desirable to them and using the process as a sort of catharsis - “I can’t have you, touch you in reality, but I will spend hours, weeks, months learning your body well enough to bring it to life again with my own hands”. I look at the hands and the thighs on Michelangelo’s sculptures or the raw emotion and extremely detailed musculature on Bernini’s and I’m just like. Man that’s a lil gay 😂

The vibe of Ceru’s painting that inspired the fic (and the original that inspired them) is so longing and wistful but with a sort of sensual power to it as well, which I thought translates really really well to the level of pining and tension I wanted the fic to have.

So that’s why he’s a sculptor 😅