#minithreads

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 157 spoilers and thoughts but also a good amount of panel dissection that might be overanalyzed but i couldn't stop thinking about it so just let me yap okay it plagued me all weekend

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i am so serious when i say this entire episode gave me like. so much worry and anxiety over the characters that i made myself upset thinking about it . the only thing saving me is everyone's fun expressions in this and specifically this panel of javier

HES SO SILLY CUTE PLAYING WITH THE SUMMONS THEYRE ADORABLE EEHEHEHEHE

anyway . to the brainrot

i think this panel of lloyd turning his back to javier, immediately after telling javier to go on break for a while, was the first little indicator of "oh no" for me

it really worried me that he said this, especially when they've been working together so much on their journey, so this was tiny little moment of "oh boy whats going on,,," for me,,, idk if anyone else felt the same but i had a feeling i would Not be ready for this ep. and i was right i was absolutely not ready

and then we hit the montage of javier going around the estate and observing how much the land has changed, and i really loved that!! it was really heartwarming seeing everyone, smiling and achieving dreams and stability in a way that the fronteras hadnt seen in a long time (hell i was convinced "oh everythings fine nvm" 😭)

some of my favorite panels in that sequence heehee bayern and his kids this was really really sweet WAAAHH

JAVIERS EXPRESSION HERE WAS SUPER FUNNY TOO absolutely gonna use this as a reaction image

ALSO THIS STATUE OF LLOYD ADHAHAHAHAHDFAHA IM PRETTY SURE IT IS RELATED TO IF NOT THE SAME AS THE STATUE IN CPSM they do have different poses so it mightve had to be rebuilt or something but either way . lloyd statue where he's near naked for some reason in the middle of frontera estate. a wonderful center piece good work team

AND MY BABY BOY SOLITAS he finally managed to create something im so proud of him GOOD JOB BUD!! THE CARVING IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

it just hit me as im typing this that they also say "[project name] complete" not sure if this is a translation thing or if it's something they picked up from lloyd saying "construction complete" but if its the latter thatd be REALLY CUTE

also that panel of tordes by the mines he looks genuinely . satisfied and happy?? the guy punished to work for the fronteras for over 100 years is having a great time LMAO

AND THIS PANEL OF JAVIER

THIS MADE ME SMILE SO WIDE

it's really really pretty, and javier can see that. he can see that the estate has grown and changed into a strong and capable place, and he echoed this in the last chapter but it's really worth celebrating this. so many accomplishments, in so little time, with so much efficiency. frontera estate has been raised from the ground up and seeing it all accumulated was so so beautiful,,,

so seeing this panel absolutely devastated me

the contrast is STRIKING. all of the brightness and light and warmth of the street javier is in is only seen in partial rays streaking in. lloyd is alone, surrounded by books and in a darker corner of the panel. isolated, facial features unreadable and working by himself,,, refusing to see or ignoring all of the accomplishments behind him.

it's like he's falling back into old habits. that workaholism that kept him alive when he was only kim suho in korea. in order to survive, to keep up, to stay afloat, to stay ALIVE, you must keep working. go to the next project, the next problem, the next assignment, and everything will be fine. only then will freedom be yours to have. only then will you be free of this responsibility you bear for those you love.

but he really doesn't need to do that anymore! he has a whole estate of people who will follow him to the ends of the earth, because he's proven himself to be capable of protecting them. he has parents who love him, despite his changes, despite his past, who have grown to believe in him.

he has his beloved knight, who is waiting for him to call for aid. who only needs a glance or a word to lend a hand. who is waiting for him to come outside and just SEE all that he's done. to celebrate, to have peace. to enjoy home. to simply be at home, together.

"when will you be able to come here...?"

javier, protagonist that he is, sees all this light around, and it's peeking into this library that lloyd is in, wondering where the engineer is, but his nose is to a book. because he is working. and that's,,, scary to see. there's a level of distance already taking shape because of old habits, and i don't know if either of them realize it

and like you look at the panel javier is in one more time and you can see, there's kids playing as javier and lloyd! they even have matching hair, and the dog is colored exactly like ppodong. super cute! but it worries me that they're on opposite sides of javier.

said this earlier; this is probably an overanalysis and this probably means nothing. it really is a cute lil cameo of some kids in town! but the fact that they are split like this is eating at me. ppodong-dog is on javier-kid's side, when ppodong is lloyd's summon? and again, they're on opposite sides of javier, will they join back together and keep playing? lloyd-kid is ahead of javier-kid, will he run on ahead without looking back? it's so cute and yet it's making me anxious!!! am i overthinking???

anyway, this split and the two panels contrasting each other like this filled me with so much nervousness that i had to close my eyes and just breathe for a little bit

then we see arcos and marbella talking about lloyd and it's clear they're worried about him, still unsure of where these changes in behavior came from and yet accepting it nonetheless because god dammit theyre good kind people

and when we see lloyd he looks,,,

tired, and disheveled, and still only thinking about working on the next thing. he keeps going on too, like there's nothing currently wrong with this; he's probably used to it, handling everything without a moments rest. the count and countess even mention it at the end of the episode

and when he treats the formal frontera attire lightly and scurries off again, it's like a final nail in this sinking coffin. honestly, i think early lloyd probably would have said similar things to try and skirt the count's attention, but this scene in combination with lloyd being depicted as separated from lloyd, appearing exhausted from continuous work, as well as the following panels of lloyd leaving,,, it fills me with anxiety and dread.

face shrouded in the darkness of the hall, so his features are unrecognizable, just like the library panel. who is that? is it suho or is it lloyd speaking right now? where are you going, into that darkness by yourself, shying away from the light you've brought to this estate? you don't have to do this alone.

and this long, looming distance stretching between him and arcos and marbella. stretching further as lloyd marches onward and alone, working by himself, away from the moments of peace and celebration that his family and his estate bring. into the dark. it's a little haunting to me.

these panels did a really, REALLY good job at solidifying this growing degree of isolation that lloyd is putting himself into, intentionally or not (for lloyd and for the artist lol). he's getting out of reach in his desire to protect everyone, to complete this responsibility he gave himself for the estate.

it's almost,,, backwards? in a way? in the early webtoon, there's a panel where suho is shown trying to reach for a light in the darkness. he believed that if he kept working towards that light, he'll find a way out of this hell he's found himself in, and so everything would be fine. here and now, it could be that he still thinks that this is the case, when it's in fact the opposite. he's brought this light to the estate, but he's putting himself in the dark (and alone, at that) in an effort to reach for the "next light". i don't think he realizes it. this makes me really, really sad. jesus christ well done artist/adaptor

what is it all for if you won't even rest? if you won't turn around and look at all these people who need you around? and not need you as in doing work for them, but need you as in wanting to be with you, and cherishing you, and spending time with you, and simply loving you. yes, time is short and yes, fate is looming, but all this effort to fight those things is still making him lose this connection he has with the estate. he doesn't have to do this alone,,, he doesn't have work endlessly. take a BREAK LLOYD

and by the end of the episode it's to the point that arcos and marbella have realized that that's not lloyd frontera. that's someone else. and gods their faces are DEVASTATING

eyes shadowed, irises blank and lost. they're not frowning deeply, but i can feel the upset layered in. is it disappointment or is it grief? i can't really say for sure, but man,,, man.

anyway yeah i hope u guys understand why this episode gave me anxiety LMFAO

i am so so so sorry for the overthinking/overdissection in this post but my brain started connecting things . whether or not they make sense or if it's just being nitpicky is impossible for me to see so. yeah take this however u will

i actually also briefly saw someone on twitter say that this wasn't in the novel? which is interesting and also a little scary i hope lloyd will turn out alright AHHH

i really hope next episode everyone will be alright ,,, please i cant take this much emotional twisting and turning im gonna lose my mind

see y'all next week or in the next shitpost,,, whichever comes first

[loyaldeserter]

[ SHAVE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can carefully shave the last of the receiver's stubble from their face.

The smooth finish of the razor's handle is cool beneath Legault's touch as he traces a finger along its edge. It's a straightforward design with little embellishment, but well-sharpened for proper use—a tool that befits its owner, he thinks.

A well-sharpened blade in a well-sharpened knight's hand does little good if his arm can't stay steady, though. An assassin knows well enough how easy it is for a well-placed injury to hinder a one's motor skills. Heath's current state following a scuffle up in the mountains is evidence enough of that.

Thankfully, an assassin's hand is pretty steady too.

"I think the stubble's quite becoming, honestly. But if you hate it this much..."

He curls a finger beneath Heath's chin, urging him to tilt his face upward. His eyes follow the shape of the knight's larynx dipping down toward his shirt collar, knowing all too well the arteries that frame it beneath the skin.

"Just hold steady now."

With the way his own pulse makes itself known in his throat, the low instruction is directed toward himself just as much as it is Heath.

Heath's never been one to enjoy facial hair. He doesn't grow it well, but it grows relatively quickly, which is a poor combination. Shaving has become an effortless part of his daily routine, his razor sharpened alongside his lance.

Unfortunately, his chin's starting to look a bit like a meadow today. Turns out an injury to his dominant hand makes it impossible to safely shave, and of course he's out on a multi-day assignment.

Naturally, it's with Legault. Because the universe has it out for Heath.

It starts with an offhanded comment. Legault says something about him doing something new with his looks, says it looks handsome or some hogwash. Heath, used to his antics, retorts that of course he'd say that, but he hates it. It'd be gone if not for that stupid lucky shot...

Legault gets all worried about the severity of the wound, which Heath's admittedly been downplaying, but it's just because he knows how these things heal. He can swing a lance just fine as long as he's careful. Fine motor skills are another thing, though.

And then Legault, audacious as ever, half-jokingly offers to do the shave for him.

And Heath, who's seemingly lost all sense, agrees.

Neither man seems to be expecting that response. But neither man backs down. Which is how Heath's ended up with a blade at his throat and his heart half-caught in it, Legault's presence on his lap impossible to ignore.

"I promise you, it'll get less flattering by the day." Heath's voice is low, keenly aware of the coldness of the razor flirting with his skin in contrast to the warmth of Legault's touch. He suppresses a shudder. "You'd sing a different tune in a week."

Legault could do whatever he wanted to him, like this. There is an element of trust here, control bequeathed of his own will to a man he once avoided on principal.

I win.

As Legault skillfully works away at the offending stubble, Heath's mind can't help but wander to the last time someone he trusted held a blade so close to him. It's admittedly not a great distraction from certain physical reactions he's trying to tamp down, but it's hard to resist.

Lachius had straddled him, too. In a different position, in very different circumstances, but the sharpness against his rabbit-quick pulse is unchanging, the tension laying thick as ever in the air.

(He cannot think about what followed, that fateful day. That'd betray his internal struggles to Legault in perhaps the worst and most undeniable way possible. He'd rather just die at that point.)

Still, Heath's mind continues its trek. Desire and grief intermingle, a longing that he's done a decent job of suppressing. Legault and Lachius are distinct, but he cannot deny the similarities as they come up.

How would they get along? They'd have a good time teasing Heath together, that's for sure. The combination of dry wit and playfulness would be a nightmare. It'd take Legault longer to earn Lachius' trust than even Heath's, though. Especially if he'd survived...

Well. Heath is out of the danger zone. One of them, at least. His chest aches, and it's hard to keep his breath entirely steady, but if he just sits and quiets his mind, it'll be over soon enough.

"You're good at this," he manages during a lull. He can't see it just yet, but he can feel it, and there's plenty of evidence on Legault's own face. It's hard not to see, from here. "Transferable skills, eh?"

He isn't looking forward to the void Legault will leave (that Lachius has left). But tempting fate like this is more reckless than he has any right to do.

[justifyanger]

PARAGON. "Cute." She rolls her eyes, following along close behind to be in reach should he fall. She knows full well the boy won't let her touch him if he has any say in the matter, so that's as far as she goes.

"But I'm not the one who's drunk here, am I? If all yer blustering about projection is true, I'd like some proof." A cheeky fanged grin. "Ain'tcha some big-name detective?"

PARAGON. "Yeah, yeah, drownin' your sorrows an' all that. It's kinda pathetic, if ya ask me."

Wow, going for the throat. Not that she knows it, but it's justified.

"Whatcha want?"

[maxdimo]

drawing dave every day until 3.5 releases, day 54. fracture.

description: SURPRISE! MINITHREAD! That'll be under the cut.

I noticed recently that Dave is strangely calm and inquisitive when describing really traumatic events in his logs - the only thing he has to say about the aftermath of the void incident is "how curious". You know, THE thing that made him spend two years on the PRAEM. Huh...

In fact, the few places he seems to express any emotion are in logs with deleted content and vaulted (aka less-public) logs. This got me thinking. It seems as though Dave chooses to not write with any negative emotion implied, and it was my good friend @doctor-cowboy who postulated that this is his way of coping with trauma and stress - by only processing it logically. It makes… so much sense. It mirrors what he was already doing in earlier logs hiding his pain from others, but its not just others - its HIMSELF. HE doesn't allow himself to express the pain, even in private.

Or, if he does… he doesn't keep it forever.

Think…why else would this be deleted? If he truly wanted to erase ALL traces of his research, he'd just erase… all of it. But no. It's random ones. Ones where, I Think, he got a little too emotional or specific, or it painted him in a worse light.

Think what contrast this creates. Dave, presenting himself as even-keel, curious, moral. Expunged, an irrational, angry, vicious, spiteful being. The emotions and trauma that he refused to process or acknowledge. Why else would he literally refer to them as [DATA EXPUNGED]? That's what she is.

Essentially, this is what the art is about. Dave, trying to deal with immense guilt and fear, approaches it the way a scientist would - detached, pragmatic, moving forward. Cold, blue. His trauma, unprocessed emotions, all that messiness is scapegoated and shoved away as a thing to simply destroy.

But even he knows this is risky and insane. The protests continued right up till the final moments.

Its a whole aspect of Dave's character I could honestly do another deep dive on. I'm going to be thinking about it a lot.

[artificial-sleep]

I want Shouta and Hizashi to use a week's worth of vacation time to not leave bed.

CW// established EraserMic, mention of sex but not graphic, just a fluffy minithread 

Shouta needs time off, if nothing else to sleep for days, and Hizashi craves time w him since it seems his schedule doesn't allow him much freetime to set aside for Shouta.

They don't want a big, fancy vacation. Don't want to deal w the press or w planning out activities. 

Just time. Time for themselves. And time for each other.

So they order in every meal, barely getting up but to use the bathroom or retrieve takeout from the front door.

They're just wrapped up in a sea of blankets. Wrapped up in each other.

A whole week packed with naps on a whim, mindless pillow talk, and lazy kisses.

The sex is just as leisurely. They're just enjoying each other, getting lost in each other in a way they're not used to. It's comfortable and familiar and all they needed after years of depravity from demanding schedules.

They're rediscovering them.

And it's peaceful. Effortless. Perfectly lovely.

[sugarbebe-blog1]

continued from (x) | @stephaniefuckingmarsh

Lips parted in a loud sigh.

“Oh, Stephanie. Don’t you know? You can give a girl all the presents in the world, but in the end, she only really wants one thing.” 

Bebe placed a hand over her chest and patted the area right above her heart, voice soft with vulnerability. 

“To suck your living soul straight out of your useless husk of a body.”  

[delicatevalentine]

Interesting might not have been the phrase Hilda had used. The rising smoke suggested that somebody had been camped their recently. If it was the "somebody" that they were following, she would prefer to stay as far away as possible. At least the column was thin and translucent; with any luck, the source of it had since moved on.

She inclined her head in a nod, not trusting her voice not to give away her hesitation. With a gentle nudge of her heel, she directed her wyvern towards the smoke, lagging just slightly behind Farina in an act of self-preservation.

Fortunately, as she'd suspected, the campsite had been abandoned. She pulled on her reins, hovering some distance off the ground just in case there was anybody still nearby.

"Hmm... Nothing here," she said in some relief. "Looks like it was a large group, though. It could have been them." She looked up and scanned the surroundings. "But the forest is too dense to see where they went."

these wings were made to fly (team verdane) » hilda & farina

[ofconstellationsandsnakes]

It goes without saying: Phoenix is at least part Japanese on his mother's side. His father was a donor, and while the option opened to him to know who his biological father was when he turned 18, Phoenix simply never felt the need to know. He doesn't have much information on the heritage of that side of his family.

[fortunesunfavored]

@maskedmuses

It was a typical evening in Paris, punctuated to Adrien Agreste by one of his semi-regular breaking points. There was only so long he could be confined to the manor before he decided that it was time to go out without the benefit of his mask. He emerged out of the metro quickly, drawing his hoodie up as he ascended the stairs into the open.

He was about to double-check his phone for directions when a well-lit advertising board situated at the corner just within sight of the subway entrance caught his eye. Or more accurately, the person standing within it did. The street seemed mostly abandoned, with only a few stragglers carrying on their way in the distance. Nobody had seen her-- or him, for that matter.

Adrien strode quietly -- not quite sneakily -- up to the blown-up photograph of his own face, stuffing his hands into his hoodie’s pockets. He came to a halt and remarked, “That was kind of a crummy shooting day. We got rained on and they had to fix me up and wait it out to finish up. They took a few shots while I was soaked, but I forget what they thought they might use it for.”

[pi-jessicajones]

@isitrecording​ liked for a starter

“I have used the word dumbass to describe this guy ten times. Do you think there’s a limit to how many times I can get away with it?”

[thirdstartokonoha]

one of the newlywed rules, as dictated by the imaginary council shikamaru made up to get temari to ease back into work, is that they don’t get out of bed on saturday morning if they don’t absolutely have to. but, a person who likes to constantly be engaged or doing things, temari is left bored by his rule, although not at all unwilling. faithfully, it has led to her to one of her favorite activities, teasing her husband of only four months.

“remember when you asked me out? ‘how about getting a meal together some time?’” flawlessly imitating his voice, she drops his hand to stuff her hands in imaginary pockets near her thighs for effect. she soon continues, however, distracted by the titanium on her ring finger for a hair of a second, “i’m wondering,” she chimes prettily, like an ominous windchime, “how did you come up with that wording? if i hadn’t known you so well, i wouldn’t have understood what you were saying.”

@shadowofadeer

[hawcculi]

Blank Verse

Write some poetry for Dagr!

The assignment made it sound so much easier than it was. He clenched the blank paper in one hand, rolling the pen against his other palm. He couldn’t remember ever speaking to Dagr, though they were technically coworkers. In his defense, there were a lot of people at this academy. He could also not remember ever writing poetry, but the threat of not completing the task had urged him to learn - quickly. He’d asked Dagr to meet him in this classroom, he could only hope that she saw the note stuck on her door. Based on the booming strides he heard outside, she had. 

“Hey, Dagr!” He smiled nervously. She was so much taller than him. “Looks like we’ve got to write some poetry together, or about each other...” He set the paper and pen back on one of the desks. “Have you ever done this before...?” 

>@skinfcxi

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[jingyismom]

Happy birthday Lan Jingyi!

word + mood prompted minithreads part 1:

river + sleepy

The sun is high and insects buzz all around their boat. It's too hot to be anywhere right now, but Jingyi supposes the river isn't the worst place to be. He squints up at the disciple steering them.

"We're not gonna hit any rapids or anything right?"

She shakes her head with only a slightly pitying look. Jingyi ignores it. How is he supposed to know river topography? He's not a fish.

Mm. Fish.

"Sizhui, are you hungry?" 

Sizhui does that thing where he is Not Rolling His Eyes. "No, Jingyi, I am not hungry half a shichen after eating."

Jingyi sighs. It's too hot is what it is. He yawns.

"Well if there's no excitement and no food, I'm taking a nap."

Nobody says anything. He takes this as enthusiastic support, and stretches out against the side of the boat.

"Wake me when something interesting happens."

"With Jingyi asleep, how could anything be interesting?" Sizhui deadpans. 

Jingyi lets his fingers trail in the cool water, smiling. He reaches back to lazily flick droplets at his friend and listen to the quiet, indignant sound he can't keep from making.

"Such a good point," he says. "Wake me when you miss me."

There's a beat of silence. 

"Then don't go to sleep."

Jingyi huffs into his sleeve to hide his embarrassed flush.

"Can't hear you. I'm asleep already."

"Apologies."

Jingyi can hear the grin in his voice. It's nice. He sleeps. 

~

ramen + anxiety

The dorm is far too quiet, and it's driving Jingyi out of his mind, but he knows he can't put on music and do calculus at the same time. It just doesn't work. Not that his brain and calculus work all that great anyway, but the point is, he's trying. Really, he is. 

His phone buzzes and he grabs it so fast he almost fumbles it across the room. It's a text from Sizhui.

"What are you eating?"

Jingyi lets his head drop to his desk. What time even is it? Like 6?

He checks. It's 9pm.

"Ramen," he types back, defeated. It's all he has.

Or at least, he thinks he has a packet left. He's not sure. He's been too busy to keep track. Between classes, and training, and service hours liberating old ladies' cats, he's hardly had time to breathe. And now he has a test, not a quiz, a TEST, and it's tomorrow MORNING, and he doesn't even know what he's doing with half the material.

And it's 9pm. And he /thinks/ he has ramen. He may just starve.

He stares at his textbook for another interminable period of time until his phone buzzes again. It's Jin Ling, this time.

"come downstairs. bring ur miserable ramen."

Jingyi shoots out of his seat and throws on a sweatshirt. He's not entirely certain he wants to deal with whatever Jin Ling has in mind but it's better than sitting here staring into space. He grabs the ramen and half runs downstairs.

The teeny tiny kitchen is full of people. Sizhui is chopping vegetables. Zizhen is boiling water and heating oil in a pan. Jin Ling is sitting at the table, arms crossed, bowls and utensils and more packets of ramen spread like tarot in front of them. 

"...Hey," Jingyi says, a little overwhelmed.

"Hey!" Zizhen calls, jiggling the pan as Sizhui throws something green into it. "Heard we're having ramen?"

Jingyi sinks into the chair across from Jin Ling.

"Yeah,” he says, grateful beyond words. "It was all I had."

~

rabbits + longing

"You shouldn't slouch," says Sizhui, "you're supposed to be setting an example."

Jingyi motions vaguely at the little disciples filing off the practice field, then leans his head on his fist. "They're not even looking."

"Hm."

It's disapproving sound. Jingyi glances at him sidelong.

"What, no speech?"

Sizhui gives a little shake of his head.

"Am I too pathetic for dignity? Is that what you're saying?"

Sizui frowns hard. "No. Of course not."

"I am," Jingyi insists. 

He sprawls on his back along the low wall on which they're sitting. "I'm pathetic. I can't think. I can't eat. I can't even teach basic sword forms. Sizhui, how am I supposed to be a person anymore."

"Jingyi," Sizhui pleads. 

"No, I'm serious. All I can think about is-- is his hair. And his smile. And you know, you know how sometimes he just-- he smells like rain? How does he do that? I'll never even know because he hardly knows I exist. How am I supposed to exist?"

Sizhui sighs. Deeply. 

"I don't know what to tell you. I wish I did."

"I just--" Jingyi breaks off, horrified by the crack in his voice. "Oh fuck, I just really...I want...I don't know."

Pressure builds in his chest, familiar over the last few weeks. He feels like he might burst. He presses his hands to his eyes, determined not to cry over this. Well, not again.

"You know, Hanguang-jun would say that the world itself is enough to live for, even when it's hurting you."

Jingyi peeks at him out of one eye. "Did he say that? When?"

"Last year," Sizhui says, looking at his hands.

He doesn't have to say more. Last year was especially hard for Sizhui. An extended family trip with his undead cousin helped, but really, how much can something like that improve things? 

"Well, if Hanguang-jun said it..." he says, wry. It's a common refrain, but not entirely reassuring just now. "Still, I--"

"Hanguang-jun!" Sizhui says, standing.

Jingyi scrambles to follow, straightening his rumpled robes. "Hanguang-jun."

HGJ is striding toward them out of the trees. Jingyi hasn't seen him alone since Wei-qianbei came back. He hopes everything is still okay.

"Sit," he says when he reaches them. They sit. HGJ stares at them, then glances around the empty field. "Behind the wall, on the ground."

Jingyi exchanges a glance with Sizhui, but they both clamber over it to sit behind. HGJ walks around it, stately, and then goes to his knees in front of them.

Jingyi stares, breathless, absolutely certain they're about to receive some great cultivation secret, perhaps even the key to immortality. HGJ is so serious, and careful, and has never asked him to join him somewhere private before. This is it. It's happening. He doesn't know what it is but it's happening right now.

"Be careful," HGJ says. "Do not frighten them." 

Jingyi nods. He'll be so careful. He doesn't know who not to frighten but he'll work on it-- he's generally not very intimidating anyway, it should be fine.

HGJ leans toward him. He extends his arms.

And deposits two small, round, perfectly white bunnies in Jingyi's lap. 

"H-- Hanguang-jun?"

Jingyi stares at the creatures. They're warm, and look very soft. They seem sleepy.

"When you feel better," HGJ says, "Sizhui will show you where they live."

Jingyi looks up at him, at the serene expression on his face, and his earlier resolve crumbles. 

"Th-thank you Hanguang-jun," he says, wiping tears and snot off his face.

"Mn."

HGJ stands and takes his leave. Sizhui pats his arm. The bunnies nuzzle his hands.

~

affection + congee

After one of the most miserable nights of Jingyi's life, the rising sun shines into his eyes. He rolls over and pulls the blanket over his head. Everything is awful. His head hurts. His face hurts. His throat hurts for some reason? He can barely breathe.

He feels like a boiled cabbage. He knows he should be getting up, Hanguang-jun will expect him to be at breakfast with everyone else, but he just can't. Not yet.

He pouts to himself, whimpering pathetically as he pictures Hanguang-jun’s disappointed face. He can't survive it.

He hears the door open, and forces himself upright, trying not to list to the side.

"Up, 'm up," he says, and tries to get out of bed.

He can't really see out of his watery eyes but he assumes it's Sizhui come to collect him.

"Aiyo, get back in bed you little nuisance, your thumping around will wake the whole inn," comes a different voice entirely. Brisk hands push him down and pull the covers over him. "That yao really did a number on you, huh? Who's ever heard of a sinus infection curse?? Bad luck."

"Not luck," Jingyi says, mulish. "Pushed Jin Ling out of the way."

"I know, I know," Wei-qianbei goes on, and Jingyi thinks he might be dreaming what he says next. "You were very brave, we all saw. Jin Ling is grateful."

Jingyi frowns. "That doesn't sound right."

Wei-qianbei chuckles. "Just take it. And this, here, it'll help you feel better."

A spoon appears in front of his face, full of something pale.

"Wei-qianbei," he says slowly, "is this...your congee?"

A snort. "No. Hanguang-jun made it, just for you."

Jingyi blinks up at him. "He did?"

"Mhmm," Wei-qianbei nods, his mouth pressed tightly closed.

Jingyi has a feeling he's being made fun of. He pouts, but takes the spoon and puts it in his mouth.

"Wow. Good."

"Of course it is, I made it."

Jingyi gapes. "You--"

Wei-qianbei ruffles his hair. "Someone had to take care of you and I drew the short straw. Eat up, and you /will/ feel better, alright?"

"...alright." Jingyi concedes. It seems to be helping already, somehow. "I will."

"That's a good little duckling."

Wei-qianbei laughs at his grimace and pats his shoulder.

"You look more like yourself already."

~

part 2 of these minithreads posted in a reblog later today <3

[ethotv-archived]

c!dream: the prison wasnt meant for [tommy] originally

also link to this minithread i got the clip from its important to add

[sapphiresovereign]

She lurked outside his tent like a specter. "Oh, esteemed leader!~ PLEASE open up!~ I've got some new strategies that might interest you...!~ Kyahahahaha!"

Her voice seemed to resonate throughout his tent more than the harmonics of such a place would allow. The encroaching dread crept up his back at a horrifying pace.

“Not again.” He muttered to himself.

He peaked from out of his tent, hoping that if he was brief, she would leave.

“Haha...! No strategies for tonight Aversa. Thank you for all your hard work though...~”