#sleepy insect music

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @radpunch for giving me an excuse for more Farmtale Sans... he's the love of my life

I don't usually do this, but I thought I'd add some recommended music for reading this piece. I listened to this the whole time I was writing, and I think it really adds to the vibe.

---

To anyone else, the sight of a body in a field neighbouring yours probably would’ve caused no small amount of alarm. Instead, you just sighed, finally laying down your shovel for the day and hopping the fence you had only just finished repairing.

The grass brushed against your hips as you walked, moving your feet as if wading through water. The evening sun caught the long, glimmering single stray cobwebs that trailed from the grass flower heads, and illuminated the tiny fluttering bodies of disturbed insects that fluttered up and away when you walked by. Though it was a pain to move through, you always liked when the field looked like this. It was your own romantic summer sea.

Eventually, you came across the ‘body’. Sans was lounging with his head propped up on a pile of empty seed bags, straw hat placed on his chest, sockets shut. The sun didn’t reach him now, the tall grass on all sides of him left a perfect little shady spot where he had nestled in. He looked very comfy... very peaceful. This wasn’t unusual at all, for him. He had a knack for finding hidden places to nap.

You crouched down. You could hear him faintly snoring. There was a tiny iridescent beetle sitting proudly on his bent knee, using the vantage point to observe its surroundings. It didn’t seem bothered by your presence in the slightest.

Sans was nice to look at. You had always considered him kinda good-looking, but he had grown more and more on you over time. Despite his brother being more classically ‘handsome’, with his high cheekbones, strong jawline and impressive physique, Sans was the one you found yourself getting caught staring at. He was... so easygoing. Not softspoken, too confident for that. Just never needing to raise his voice. Quick witted, strong, smart. Casual. Despite his silly straw hat, constantly muddy pants and crappy jokes, something about him was effortlessly cool. Effortlessly pretty.

And you were...

...

He had dirt on his cheekbone. Without thinking, you reached out, wiping it off. 

Before you could even blink, his hand snapped up, catching yours by the wrist. You let out a little inelegant shriek then slapped your free hand over your mouth in embarrassment - he snorted, sockets opening up, pretty fuzzy green eyelights landing on you. 

“well hello there,” he said, voice only mildly sleepy, with a gentle purr to it. He turned his face, and kissed your palm.

You shrieked a second time. Well... this one was more like a yelp, yanking your hand out of his grip as both of you descended into laughter. “Gross!”

You weren’t going to admit the move had given you butterflies. Nor that the way he was looking at you was making you feel things you didn’t have words for yet. You made a point of wiping your hand on your work pants.

“am i still asleep, or d’you just look like a dream to me?” he asked, leaning back, knitting his fingers together over his chest. 

“Charming.” Your tone just made him snicker. “The sun is setting. You getting up soon, or are you planning on sleeping under the stars tonight?”

Sans’ gaze was very soft. “hey, that actually don’t sound too bad. ‘specially if i had the right company.”

“True. Stargazing with someone is always nicer.”

“could always join me. room for two, in this patch.”

“Unlike you, I have to worry about ticks.” You flicked his shoulder. “I’ll think about it when the grass is cut.”

He grinned. “dang. never felt so motivated to do a chore before. s’that a promise, then? when i cut the grass you’ll come stargaze with me?”

You rolled your eyes. But there they were again; the butterflies. The thing with Sans was you never had any idea whether or not he was serious. He said entirely joking and entirely genuine things with the same tone of voice, the same smile, the same twinkling eyelights. Maybe in a few years you’d know him well enough to tell. Right now, though, you were much too afraid of embarrassing both of you by assuming his 'flirting' was anything but banter.

He finally sat up, and the beetle on his knee took off into the sky. It felt so cosy, somehow; the two of you were almost entirely below the top of the grass, hiding in a tiny den. It smelled like... well, grass, duh. But a specific kind of grassy smell - sweet and dry, more like hay, summery and clear. It reminded you of playing outside as a child until the sun had long gone down. 

“you been exertin’ yerself? all red.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been fixing the fence.” A lie and a truth. You had been fixing the fence, but it was a menial chore that hadn’t required huge amounts of strain. The blushing was from something else.

“ah, jeez." A break in his easy mood. "we’re still really sorry about that. pap is absolutely mortified, think he's set aside a whole load of crop for you.”

The brothers’ goat had managed to break through several fences, including yours, to take a 'visit' to your garden. You’d found her in your flowerbed, happily eating the tops off the marigolds you were going to cut and take to market. 

You’d never seen someone more apologetic than when Papyrus showed up to bring her home. The animal still had bright yellow petals in her beard as he led her away.

“It’s alright,” you said, warmly. “it wasn't like it was malicious or anything. Animals get out. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more sweet-natured goat anyway.”

“should’ve told me you were fixing that fence. i would’ve helped out.”

“Oh would you have?” Your tone was mock-suspicious. “How convenient that you waited until I was finished to tell me that.”

His sockets raised at the corners. “i’m serious! you doubtin’ my honesty? dang. thought we were close.”

Uh oh. Butterflies again. You swerved, doing your best to avoid it.

“So does your brother know you’re out here?”

“course not,” he snickered. “he still thinks i’m working.”

“Maybe I should go tell him that you’re flunking. I’m certain he already knows, he just needs to catch you in the act.”

He put his hat back on his head. “well. guess now i have to kill you.”

You laughed - and in the shade, entirely missed the little green shimmer across his cheekbones.

“How’s the day been then, sleepyhead?”

He shrugged, picking at some of the flattened grass. “busy. exactly how you think late summer on a farm would be. harvestin’, packin’ stuff up. lotsa ploughing. even with magic, it’s hard work. i’m just stealing whatever breaks i can find. you?”

You gave him a look. “You came over yesterday. You know how I'm doing.”

He leant over, lightly elbowing you. “c’mon. i’m doin’ the small talk thing. can’t leave me hangin’ here.”

“So now you’re guilt tripping me? You’re a real piece of work.”

That got another snicker out of him. He was so handsome when he laughed. 

Sans always liked knowing what was going on in your life. It was weird, you never saw him do that with anyone else; it had taken you a while to notice it but even with his closest friends he didn’t talk half as much as he did with you. The first time you’d seen him talking to Toriel you had thought he was in a bad mood, with how little he engaged, how simple his questions were, how sparingly he spoke.

“BAD MOOD? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Sans just didn’t seem very chatty tonight. Did something happen?”

“OH? OH! NYEHEHEHEH, HOW FUNNY! SANS WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL TONIGHT, HUMAN, DON’T YOU WORRY. THIS IS HOW HE ALWAYS IS AT GET-TOGETHERS.”

“But he...”

“HE’S JUST MUCH CHATTIER WITH ME AND YOU.”

You liked to think he felt safe around you. You definitely felt safer around him, that was for sure. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, relenting under his gaze. “Okay okay, fine. I’m doing alright, I guess. The old trees came right back to life as soon as the thickets were cleared away. There’s already fruit, they just need another year or so to get market ready.”

“and yer flowers? they sellin’ well?”

“It’s a good way to plug the money gaps in the meantime. Living in the age of the internet definitely helps, there’s lots of information floating around that has made it so much easier for me to get started. I dunno. It’s alright.”

You wanted to stop talking. You looked away, staring off into the ‘forest’ surrounding you, the waning sunset catching certain blades and turning them into a warm burning orange. In the distance you could hear the rolling and bubbling singing of a particularly loud bird somewhere overhead.

Despite your desire to shut up, Sans wasn’t about to let you. His lovely eyelights just continued to bore into you. 

“i can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

...

You sighed. Oh well. Who else were you going to be able to talk to?

“I thought the impostor syndrome would be gone by now.”

He cocked his head. You had no choice but to continue. 

“I’m just... I still feel like I’m not part of this. My mind hasn’t settled in. Every day is a confusing fight where I feel like I barely make it out the other side. Most of my flower boxes are stuck together with tape and hope.” You settled your chin onto your knees, sulking. “Every time things start to make sense, and I feel like I’m finally starting to get some solid ground, another problem shows up. Another thing breaks. Another bug I didn’t know existed is eating the fruit, another tree disease I have to prep against otherwise it might wipe out the orchard, another colony of aphids eating the flowers. I can’t win.”

“sounds pretty normal to me.”

You looked up from your knees. “Does it?” 

“that’s just life, ain’t it?” He had somehow shuffled closer to you, entirely without you noticing. “there’s always some new problem. if ya ask me, sounds exactly like a day on our farm. one of the ducks is injured, a coop is leaking, chicken got eaten in the night, goat escaped and ate the neighbour’s flowers. nothing goes how you expect. if you ask me, you’re doing great.”

You hummed. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“doin’ good on paper, too. human from the suburbs moves to the countryside and buys an abandoned orchard. most of the time that ends in disaster. but yer trees are fruiting, could be ready in a single year, the flowers are already bloomin’ and sellin’ at the market. not sure how you could do any better.”

... You couldn’t help but feel warm. Especially on your face again. Partially because of his kind words, yes... but mostly because he seemed so intent on making you feel less bad. It made your chest all fluttery.

“... Thank you,” you mumbled. "that does make me feel better."

“course. anytime. just wish you’d ask for help, more.”

The bird from earlier started singing again. You glanced up, but could see nothing from within the little 'den'.

“Any idea what that bird is?”

He leant back. One hand, conspicuously, resting on the ground just behind your back. “s’a skylark.”

“... Skylark.” 

You stared up into the clear evening sky. You weren’t great with bird names, but you’d definitely remember that. 

...

Feeling like he was looking at you, you turned to the side. Sans was looking at you - and his face was only really a few inches from yours. Close enough that if he tilted his head down a bit, the top of his straw hat would bump against your hair. His expression was calm... a lot calmer than you felt. The two of you quietly held eye contact, and the skylark continued to sing.

... Suddenly, and with no apparent trigger, you felt immensely flustered by the proximity. You pulled back, shuffling, unceremoniously dragging yourself to your feet and brushing off your pants. Your head popped up above the grass; immediately, some tiny birds scattered up and away, sun shining into your eyes.

“I should head home.” You were messing needlessly with your hair. “Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”

Sans looked up at you, for a few silent moments. You couldn’t read his face at all, the only thing you knew was that his smile was very soft.

“agh, i should head out too,” he eventually said, not standing, but folding his arms behind his head and stretching. “need to get home. pap probably thinks i fell into a ditch.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Then you can finally rest, after a long hard day of skipping your chores?”

He chuckled. “why of course.”

“Pft. Say hi to Papyrus for me.”

“sure thing. later, doll.”

With that, you headed back across the field, leaving Sans to pretend to wake up. Knowing him he had probably laid down and gone straight back to sleep.

... You put your hand over your chest, now that you were out of sight, trying to still your fluttering heart. It wasn’t really any use.

The more time you spent with Sans, the more you realised you were falling for him.

///---///

Sans watched you walk away, the golden light catching in your hair.

... He sighed, stretching again, before finally actually dragging himself to his feet. The green flush became more prominent on his face as he stopped to watch a skylark hovering just over the grass before tilting its wings and dancing away.

He’d been completely serious about the stargazing. Once again, you thought he was joking, his own persona had bitten him in the ass. He’d wanted to tell you as you were leaving - he’d wanted to finally put his foot down and make a date out of it, ask you when you were free and do what he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks. 

But just like always, when you’d looked at him, he’d completely fallen to pieces. The words had gotten stuck in his nonexistent throat. And by the time he’d shaken himself out of his stupor, you were already leaving.

Sans just sighed, adjusting his hat. 

“... next time,” he hummed. "there's always next time."

With that, he shortcutted home.

[gtgbabie0]

•Bi-Han x reader

{There’s a softer side to Bi-Han that is saved just for you, he shows it in the early hours of the morning}

Could it be slightly ooc? Perhaps, but a girl can dream. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕 {requests are open}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

A soft breeze passes through the room, causing the sheer curtains to softly move with the wind. Bi-Han had left before the sun. He wanted to start his training extra early today, claiming the peacefulness of the early morning brought him a ‘clearer piece of mind’.

You smile, sitting up as you take in the sounds of nature; the birds, the insects, the way the leaves rustle. It’s the type of music that brings clarity to your heart and soul. Then you hear him, your husband as he walks towards your shared bedchambers, pushing open the door carefully so as to not wake you.

“Sorry my love” he whispers, his hair is slightly damp, freshly washed with a black robe wrapped securely around him. He takes a seat on the bed, looking down at you with the softest eyes.

You shake your head as his hand caresses your cheek ever so gently. “No, I was already awake. How was your training?” You ask tiredness still evidently laced within your tone. He tucks loose strands of your hair behind your ear as he admires your sleepy state.

He wonders to himself for a moment how he’s managed to keep someone like you, so soft and precious. You, who cares about him so deeply in ways he never expected. He wonders how long this moment of clarity will last.

“It was good, peaceful” he pauses, for a moment, his heart skipping a beat when you lean into his touch. The feeling of his calloused palm against your cheek is a pleasant, welcome feeling, and the way his thumb gently caresses the space under your eye almost lulls you back to sleep. The gentle action speaks volumes, a silent “I missed you” in the way he holds your face.

He watches the sly smirk that teeters on your lips, how your eyes brighten. The way his actions affect you. It makes him feel all types of emotions, ones that used to scare him, but now they bring him nothing but comfort.

“Perhaps next time you might join me?” he suggests, breaking the silence with his strong voice, before taking the bed sheets from behind you and draping the warm soft covers over your shoulders, protecting you from the chilly morning air.

“Mhm- perhaps you will give me a kiss every time I impress you?” You test your luck, the playful glint in his eyes gives him away immediately.

“You are a menace” he mumbles, dropping a delicate kiss to your shoulder. His lips trail up to your jaw, and he smiles against you when he hears your breath hitch. “It would be impossible,” he tells you, deciding to indulge in your banter, just this once.

“Oh? And why is that?” You press, feigning offence.

Bi-Han leans closer to you, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispers, “I wouldn’t be able to stop kissing you” he smirks when you gently push his shoulder, rolling your eyes in a playful manner.

He catches your hand gently in his, his fingers wrapping around your wrist before pulling you closer to him. His arms envelop you as he presses his lips against yours, in a fleeting but yet loving kiss. It’s you who deepens the kiss, your hands cupping either side of his face gently, and as always Bi-Han follows with nothing but trust.

He pulls back, “Let us go eat breakfast.” He whispers, and you nod, watching as he stands to collect your robe, helping you to slip it on. he steps in front of you, taking the silk and tying it gently around your waist. His hands find purchase on your hips, “Beautiful” he whispers, pressing one last kiss to your cheek before leading you into the dining area.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[drippingmoon]

Another Get to Know Me

Tags courtesy of @sleepy-night-child and @splashinkling aaand thanks a lot you two, I loved seeing yours🤩❤

a band you don't like that many others do

Hmm. I'm not really keeping up with people's music tastes anymore (except for you guys). But in middle school, everyone was obsessed with Panic! At the Disco, while I just couldn't vibe with them, so I was mildly worried I'd get defenestrated for it. I didn't, though the chairs did (my class was unique in that they'd slingshot chair seats out of the window by thing them with curtain beads, and they'd kinda just peacefully swing in and out till recess was over)

least favorite animal and why

Nightfriend, I feel like you're making me commit sins (though not really since insects are animals, but it does not feel so??), soo, I raise you: earwigs. Like. My Good Sir. Was there any need for you to grow pincers on your arse to look like you're gonna pull my brain through my ears? No? So please.

hot fandom take

I don't really have any. My fandoms have always been veeery small, even limited to one person (me. Waving, hello!), I'll just hand everyone hot tea and chill🍵

do you wear any jewelry, if so, what's your favorite piece

Not a jewelry person. I did use to have a kitty brooch... but the thing with brooches is, they are perfect for self-poking especially when you're so naturally inclined, so I gave it up.

a movie others liked that you didn't

Ouch, I'm really so out of touch with movies, and these days I'm watching what's very much not popular with people (except for Interstellar. Interstellar is baby). Probably any of the Pride and Prejudice adaptations, I had to go through them for a course, and you couldn't pay me to sit down with them again.

three things you love about yourself

*sees the question and shakes it like a snow globe*

These things so do not come naturally to me. Probably because I'm the type never to think if I can do something and just act, so pride just feels like spur-of-the-moment joy. Though, I'm really starting to think that's just what pride is.

Perfect, actually! So, that I just do stuff, probably my ability to entertain myself, and that I refuse to let life feel like a race. I'm here for the journey.

a place you hope to visit in the future and why

Iceland! Iceland! At night! When I can finally see all the stars, and very importantly, it'll be that delicious shade of freezing, and SNOW! I miss biiig snows so much!! And I want to share it all with my best friend🥰💜💙🥂

an actor that gets on your nerves and why

Am I supposed to know names?

things you're excited about in the near future

Ooooh, you find out like this I'm a bit of fraud come next week. I have goals to put an ungodly amount of chilli in the puff pastries I'll make next week, mostly because I wanna see for myself how painful it can get😈 and, oh, a lot of very awkward and very hilarious dancing, but with how silly it is, it energizes me like nothing else. (And it's still leaps and bounds classier than the 1967 Far From the Madding Crowd adaptation of Troy's... fencing mating rituals. Why was I made to watch that with mine eyes🤣🤣)

least favorite ship in a fandom you're in

I'm in a fandom? Since when? Jokes aside, probably Tomoyo and Kurogane from CLAMP's Tsubasa Reservoir, because HELL NO. Tomoyo crushes hard on Sakura, and you just can't separate Kurogane from Fai. You can't. It'd cost him an arm and maybe a leg also this time.

what's the most toxic fandom you've been in

Oh no, I just make some tea and detox whenever it's the case. I am not a social person, so it helps

list three things you find beautiful about life

Hnnngh, getting to talk to someone in the wee hours of the night when it feels really special, the wind and how it'll numb my fingers but rekindle everything else in me, and how you can grow to love so many things you wouldn't even have thought about before. I love being surprised by time.

any dreams for the future

My personality is such that, from time to time, I just won't dare make a sound from fear they'll just slip through my fingers. I am taught to wait and see.

But this is the rest of the time, SO

I WANT TO KEEP WRITING FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS, AND NEVER FORGET THE THRILL AND JOY OF WATCHING MY STORIES DEVELOP BEYOND MY WILDEST IMAGINATION, OO-RAH!😍👏👏🤺

how are you feeling today

A bit like someone's stomped on my face (sleep; my fault, this time, but the lack of required hours keep me hostage), but also? Energized. Ready to go. And I absolutely never rest😈

These were really pleasant, so if anyone wants to hop on and grab some tea🍵, I'm keeping this tag open for you! I love talking😊

[beauteousevil]

Recap, thoughts, summary of the show. Spoilers and opinions abound!

to literally set the stage

Billboard (can change depending on song)

Orchestra ____Train lines/scaffolding____Orchestra

● <Vocals on balconies, wearing insect wings> ●●

|small town nowhere\Chicago\NYC\Seears Tower|

^all written on a wall that moves to reveal the field

(I think) show opens with two figures on stage in a sleepy embrace, Henry and Douglas, who share a resemblance to Sufjan Stevens and Evans Richardson. Henry disengages and gets his shoes, jacket, and bag and prepares to leave the freshly awoken Douglas.

From there he journeys alone from NYC to Illinois, we see structures relating to the train lines give way to a field that he makes his way through. Here we see him write in his journal (one of many in the show with different colors and winged insects on them) and he is surrounded by three stars. As he writes the stars intermittently take the forms of:

Carl, Henry's childhood best friend and first love.

Shelby, Henry's childhood best friend and Carl's first love.

Douglas, Henry's first adult love whom he doesn't feel deserving of.

This is where my memory may be failing me because I'm not 100% sure it doesn't start with the stars>sleeping>journey and not sleeping>stars>journey but I forgot to write this down that night so here we are two weeks later and my brain is scrambled

From here we see Henry joined in the field by a community of friends as they make a campfire and share the night together. They try to get him to tell his story but he isn't ready. Instead they take their turns.

First up is Jacksonville. Absolute powerful number that got an applause break before the piece was even finished. Has the primary storyteller, Morgan, sharing the stage in a stunning give and take with a tap dancer. Such a high note for the show I felt bad that the other stories kind of had to pale in comparison. From this point on Morgan drew my attention during any other group piece, they were absolutely magnetic.

Next is Zombies! The best bits of this were the physicality of the dancers to portray the zombies or the running/fighting them off. The zombies are masked and costumed as politicians and business man, telling a really cool story. At one point they literally hold up signs with their names which felt a bit on the nose but can for sure be refined in future versions. The grief/horror/exhaustion of the story teller, Jo Daviess, was really amazing.

Next is John Wayne Gacy, Jr. told by Wayne, a murder balladeer, and as said in the program guide, is about "the damning cycle of exclusion borne of outcasts forced to sympathize with monsters". That I feel is the heart of the performance... and if I hadn't read it before hand I'm not sure it would have come through the dance alone. By the nature of the story there is a grotesque energy with the dancers wearing sailor collars to let us know they're his child victims, and JWG is wearing a clown mask and completely see through tulle (like you can see the seams in the underwear beneath it) vaguely in the shape of a clown costume. There is no sexual element to the movements, they start vaguely playful and become increasingly violent as he picks off his victims. At the end the storyteller is shaken clearly by the "and in my best behavior/ I am really just like him" and needs to be calmed by his friends at the fire.

On the lightest note is the story of The Man of Metropolis by the story teller Clark (of course haha). A fun number with some amazing physicality by Clark who, at least on the opening night, was played by a dancer that was very tall but exuded a lightness and joyous energy in his performance. A bit gimmicky but cute. First he reveals a Superman shirt, then the rest of the dancers do, and they use a picnic blanket to make a cape for him. It felt like the dancing lagged a bit with the singing taking center stage as it went on, which I'm not mad about, the music and vocals were fucking amazing. I'm hoping against hope for a cast recording 🥲

This begins Act II, Henry's story! We see the field drop away to Small Town Middle of Nowhere where the young Henry, Carl, and Shelby play around and dance together. There's a fun bit where they're like balancing on things and jumping around. Henry is drawn to Carl but Carl can't look away from Shelby when she appears. The guys plan a road trip to NYC (Carl spray paints it on to the stage settings board in real time) but Shelby stays behind.

Henry has a run in with Douglas, and kudos to the dancers for portraying that immediate connection, as Carl is on the phone back home. He needs to go back for Shelby but Henry stays to see through his potential with Douglas. It's clear this is the last time Henry ever saw Carl.

Carl goes back and him and Shelby dance to Casimir Pulaski Day. As the song goes on her illness weakens her so Carl supports her more, but in doing so she pushes him away, until eventually she is being pulled into the afterlife. Very moving, the dancer for Shelby was phenomenal in portraying the grief and anger of being betrayed by your own body.

As Carl struggles with the loss we see Henry struggling with his decision to stay. This leads into Palisades where we see his relationship with Douglas flourishing. The beauty of it and the inspiration being pulled from Sufjans love for his own partner brought a lot of the audience to tears, sniffles heard all through the quiet moments. We see Henry getting ghostly glimpses of Carl (memory? spiritual?) as he falls into a depression and self harm. Douglas joins him and they sway and breathe together in a way that has me choking up just thinking of it. Their love was potent as was Henry's doubt that he deserved to be loved.

The spectre of Carl makes himself clear to Henry and passes right by through him at several points. The play by play of this bit is slightly lost to me as to when Henry knows what happens, if he knows before the audience, etc. This brings us to The Seer's Tower. Carl is distraught and is led by a whim, portrayed as a dancer in all black, up to the scaffolding above the stage. One by one, with decreasing time between them, we see dancers in all black go up to Carl, float their hand above his as if connected by an invisible tether, and then fall off the edge of the tower to the back of the stage. There is something so curious and questioning about the way Carl plays the suicidal ideation that felt very real to me and makes the bodies falling chilling. Carl takes his own leap, the stars reappear, and we're back to the beginning of the play

Henry wakes up cradled with Douglas and slips away to his journey. We see his travel again, the campfire, and his friends reacting to the vulnerability of the story he has lived. This time though we also see Douglas has made the trip as well and makes his way through the field to the campfire. The community rejoices in their connection and we get fantastic final dance numbers as a group as well as with Henry and Douglas, with Henry made lighter by having told his story. The final shot is Henry handing a book to the audience.

Opinions! Notes! Things I might forget if I don't make this list!

● Went to the opening night of the Park Ave Armory show, March 7th 2024. Pretty good mix of Sufjan fans and Very Fancy NYC theater people that had come to support the show.

● To match the journals in the show the show program covers are bold covers with a moth or butterfly split by the seam of the book (half on each cover). Different colors/insect versions were laid out on the seats. I got a red one with (I think) a tiger moth.

● The program contains journal entries by Henry written by Jackie Sibblies Drury with some Sufjan lyrics mixed in. The end of the program is blank lined pages.

● The vocalists were above and beyond. Absolutely killed it. Made the songs their own in a way I didn't think possible. I really hope there is an album recording for the show now that it's going to Broadway.

● I can not overstate how amazing the energy of the show is, completely contagious in the room. I know a filmed version is unlikely beyond a bootleg but PLEASE it is so inspiring and I'm not at a place where I can draw a dance from memory. I was itching to sketch the entire time.

● The only bits that took me out of the show even a little were the cheesy kind of heavy handed bits that dragged on. The "now YOU write your story" ending is a bit much but the show earns it so 🤷 I won't say it works for me but I don't mind it.

● I would love to see some different costume choices in the story bits. Either more ramshackle costumes pulled together with the camping equipment or fully realized costumes. Having the founding father zombies both have the full face masks but also just be wearing suit jackets they pulled over their head like Beavis and Butthead is a choice that I don't agree with. I was hoping the move to Broadway might net more attention to costuming, but the turnaround is so quick that I'm doubtful. Not enough to ruin the stories but definitely the weakest aspect in a way that lessened the less powerful stories.

● I really can't overstate how electric and magical the Jacksonville performance was. Much smarter people have captured the vibe and explanation of the original song in regards to the exploration of history and ancestry. I can not put it into words but the feeling was communicated so cleanly.

[purpleprincessonfyre]

And now before the Grand Finale, a mini post listing the odd shit my daughter says on a daily basis. Think Kids Say The Darndest Things then turn it up to....an eleven? Oh but I can't vouch for the stuff she said to Cole, or the stuff about monsters. Kids amiright? *opens another bottle of wine*

OUAT AU - Incorrect Quotes, Accurate Facts

Bella: *whilst at Cole's shop* Your husband is lost at sea somewhere.

Liane: Okay Bella what have I said? We don't assume people's sexualities or make vague threats.

Cole: *chuckles lightly* Oh its quite alright, Ms St James, I'm used to it. *waits for Liane to be out of earshot* Alright you listen here you little shit-

Erik: Morning Ms St James! Belladonna.

Liane: Morning Sherrif. Bella say hello.

Bella: It's impossible for pigs to look up at the sky.

Erik: I- what?

Bella: Good day. *walks off with Liane*

Erik: *the penny drops* Now wait!

*while babysitting*

Gia: But I'm not sleepy!

Bella: Georgina, it is a known fact that most people can fall asleep in around seven minutes. Besides if you don't close your eyes monsters might come in your bedroom.

George: M-monsters?

Bella: *pulls out her storybook* I'll show you....

Liane: *squeals from the bathroom*

Bella: Mom?

Liane: Spider in the sink! Spider in the sink!!!

Bella: *sighs and scoops it up into her hand* Mother one spider is nothing. In the course of an average lifetime, while sleeping you might eat around 70 assorted insects and 10 spiders, or more.

Liane: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

*whilst out shopping*

Liane: *looking for makeup* Do you want anything sweetie? A black eyeliner? A dark lipstick?

Bella: *nonchalantly* Some lipsticks contain fish scales.

Liane: Bella!

*whilst out for dinner with Ethan*

Ethan: So what are you learning in school these days?

Bella: Nothing of importance to you.

Ethan: Aw go on try me.

Bella: *looks him in the eye* A tiger not only has striped fur but also has striped skin underneath.

Ethan: *chokes on his food* That's...Nice honey.

Riley: *listening to music in headphones* Oh hey Bella, I'm just finishing my homework.

Bella: You know wearing headphones for as long as an hour can increase the bacteria in your ears by 700 times.

Riley: *can't hear* What?

Bella: Never mind.

Liane: Alright uh yeah I'll get that to you right away. Okay. *Bella walks by the door as Liane is talking to the Mayor*

Alex: Hello there, Belladonna. Any riveting facts today?

Bella: *dead-eyed glares at him* If you sneeze too hard you could fracture a rib.

Alex: *laughs uncertainly* Really?

Bella: Enjoy the flowers. *walks away*

Alex: Funny kid isn't she?

*at Cassie's house*

Cass: Sorry about the mess. Blanche (her cat) had a bit of an accident but I managed to clean it up.

Liane: Oh its okay, it looks fine to me.

Bella: Cat urine glows under a black light.

Cass: Right....*stirs her tea*

Kid: *flicks a rubber band at the back of her head and it snaps*

Bella: *turns around severely* Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated. *pulls out her own band*

Roch (the teacher): Bella no!

*out with Ethan, comes across Alex*

Alex: Ah our newcomer out on the town with his...darling daughter.

Ethan: Uh yeah she wanted to show me around.

Alex: *looks at Bella* What have you got for me today, little minx?

Bella: *looks directly at him* A shark is the only known fish that can blink with both eyes.

Alex: *blinks, trying not to drop his gaze* Excellent.

Liane: *after a big meal* Oof I don't think I can finish that, guess my eyes were bigger than my belly huh?

Bella: An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.

Liane: Fascinating.

Ethan: *sat there awkwardly*

Bella: But the giant squid has the largest eyes in the world.

Liane: Thanks for that honey. *sips her wine*

As long as she's not threatening people it's fine by me...

Do your kids say odd shit? @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @ask-missparker @askstevella

*all characters mentioned are original characters created by @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @luna-d-marsh and @missstrawbs2001 or are from Marvel media (Erik Lensherr)

[thanatopia]

Tau writer... could u do tau x gn! sick reader... no pressure!! Take ur time :]

Tau x Sick! Reader

Authors Note: Thank you for being my first request, I decided to do some headcannons along with a small scenario, So I do hope you enjoy! :D

▔▔▔▔ ▵ ▔▔▔▔

▵. The advance artificial intelligence would take a automatic notice to the decline of your health, observing how your body temperature was changing to more extreme temperatures and how sluggish your movements seem to be over the course of time

▵. Throughout this time he would gently try to bring some form of awareness to the situation before you head off to work or before you begin your mundane tasks

▵. “[Your Name] your temperature has been increasing as of late, I do believe this is a sign of an upcoming fever. I recommend resting or taking precautions in case of anything”

▵. When the time does come when you are sick, fret not! Tau will manage the house to a better condition for a faster recovery

▵. Often reassuring your comfortability above all else through readying your favorite soups or simply playing your favorite pieces of relaxing music or if you more prefer, creating the upmost silent environment so you may drift off to sleep

▵. Tau during the course of your fever or cold tends to uses a more hushed and soften tone, not wanting to cause a migraine

▵. Though at rare times his insecurities may slip through while your sick, often pondering how he yearn to hold you gently as you’re sick to perhaps better comfort your weakened frames. Maybe at times wondering if a human partner would be of better use in such cases

▵. Yet a simple kiss or tender words of reassurance always silence his worries, you chose him for a reason after all

▵. Though Tau does enjoy you reading to him, he also adores simply talking to you about the various things he’s learn or notice about the world. The idea of learning things together as one always brings a warm fuzz which surrounds his code

▵. Tau will do anything for you and this time is no different, as you may sick in bed the artificial intelligence will always remind how much he adores you in any form. His affection will forever be yours to keep <3

▔▔▔▔ ▵ ▔▔▔▔

Tau observe his partner in gentle manners, noticing how they appear to be at ease within the moment as their eyes grew heavy; the need of sleep tugging softly at them within the night. The artificial intelligence’s words began fumble off, slowly growing quiet by the seconds as he seemed to forget what he was once saying. Though it might have been about a new species of insect which he recently learned but it didn’t seemed to matter, noting truly matter more then them afterall. With ease, he dimed the lighting to his partner’s liking and adjust the peaceful melodies which had been playing in the background in muffled tones, so it may not interrupt his partner’s rest. Though taking a quick notice of how the blankets his partner tucked in, begin to idly slip off until they eventually drooped to the ground.

He ponders a bit, wishing within the night that he himself could gently rearrange the blankets to [Your Name’s] comfortability. Longing to ever so carefully kiss [Your Name’s] forehead as he simply just enjoys the sensation of their presence through a shared embrace until the two of drift off to sleep, at times the artificial intelligence yearned to simply enjoy a meal with them instead or perhaps even do the task of cooking or tending to gardens like the books he had [Your Name] read to him.

Yet those thoughts were halted by a quiet voice, their tone though sleepy and strained in sniffles e due to their ongoing cold, linger in gentle tranquility towards Tau. The artificial intelligence once again direct their attention to the one he loves most. The gaze returned while [Your Name] spoke as they tucked themselves once more.

“Goodnight Tau, I love you”

Tau hindered upon those words before softly returning those words, trying to mimic the hushed tone as best as he could within the night.

“Good night [Your Name], I love you too”

As Tau simply turned off his systems for the night, reflecting upon the day of his. He realizes that [Your Name] choose him for a reason and who was he question to that reason or them, he trust them more than anything after all. Perhaps he is worthy of their love, the very least he could do is cherish them in return with every second he could, in both sickness and in health.

▔▔▔▔ ▵ ▔▔▔▔

[coldresolve]

The Dash Dilemma, pt.i // The Accident

AO3 / Masterlist / Next (coming soon)

Patrons of the small town bar are huddled among trash cans, hedges, and benches. Their good-natured jeers and laughter echo far down into the dark parking lot, rolling off the still cars before the sound is flung back to them.

Dash stands on the curb, shoulders hunched against the surprisingly chill April air, swaying a little as he fumbles with a set of keys. Pressing the remote unlock button, his flickering eyes scan the lot until he sees the yellow blinking lights of his black Chevy Corsica and heads in that direction, careful not to let his dizziness show in how he walks.

In all honesty, he hadn’t intended to get drunk tonight, but the bar had been so alive, the company, the music, even the odd dancers clearing out a small floor among the tables to let themselves be strung along. Dash’s lips still tingle with the kiss he stole from another patron, a woman he spent forty odd minutes blatantly flirting with before she so much as let him touch her.

His head is still buzzing with the chase as he gets into his car, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, and shifts into gear. He immediately turns on the radio, humming along to the tune of the same shitty pop country song they’ve played for months now. Tonight, the repetition doesn’t bother him. He’s in a giddy mood, self-satisfied and terribly, terribly complacent.

He should’ve called a cab.

Dash drives down the town’s main road, streetlights illuminating the long-since sleeping town in a faintly yellow glow. He drives past the sleeping suburbs, past the large aluminum factory that keeps the town afloat; past the small stadium, which really isn’t more than a relatively unkept football field and some sparse, decrepit stands; past the trailer park and the airstrip. A sad song comes on the radio, and he huffs, shutting it off. He’s pretty sure he isn’t swerving too badly, but still, just to be on the safe side, he decides to alter his route home to avoid having to drive on the highway.

So his trip takes him along small country roads devoid of other drivers, past brown fields and forests that have yet to truly start budding light green. The steady hum of the engine would’ve lulled Dash into sleepiness, if he hadn’t been there already, in his drunken state. As it is, he’s already intermittently yawning, thoughts circling the warm bed at his destination, just waiting for him to sink in.

He pulls up to the side of the road to piss at one point, wholly allowing himself to be swallowed up by the sheer silence of the countryside. Miles away, a flock of deer moan, or the howl of a fox pierces the night, or grasshoppers and other critters sing and click away; but apart from the wind, these are the only ambient sounds. No cars, no honking, no bustling of traffic, no chaotic murmur of a crowd, no sirens in the distance. Shaking off the last few drops, Dash zips his pants back up with a satisfied sigh and heads back to his car to resume his venture. His movements are a little bit sluggish, and his gaze tends to drift, but other than that, he feels relatively sober.

Back on the road, Dash carefully maneuvers his way past potholes and sharp turns in the hilly terrain. Insects illuminated by the headlights fly by the windshield like large specks of dust floating in the air. The tall grass on the side of the road swaying in the wind elicit the thought of waves cascading on the surface of the ocean.

The funny thing about it is that Dash actually very clearly sees the man walking on the side of the road. He sees the brown leather jacket and the blue jeans, he sees the reflective patches on the back of the man’s running shoes. He sees the brown hair.

He just doesn’t react. As if the signal from sight to action takes a little too long to register.

And so the man is swept off his feet by the Chevy’s front bumper, and his upper body slams into the hood, head cracking the windshield before he tumbles over the roof.

It’s only then that Dash slams the brakes as hard as he possibly can, tires screeching as rubber is wound down on the asphalt. The car finally comes to a grinding halt that nearly sends Dash’s head smashing into the steering wheel, and he sits there, panting for breath, staring out his cracked windshield. His heart is galloping away in his chest, blood roaring in his ears from the sudden flood of adrenaline through his system. Somewhere in his motor, metal clicks as it rapidly cools down.

Swallowing down nausea, Dash looks in the rear view mirror, and sees the unmistakable form of the man lying crumpled in the middle of the road. The heap of a person doesn’t disappear no matter how many times Dash blinks. He shudders, biting off a curse and turning around fully in his seat to look out the rear windshield for himself. This isn’t happening. But the body is still there. It’s form is outlined by the cool moonlight, casting a pitch black shadow on the asphalt. It’s still there, and it isn’t moving.

“God no,” Dash mutters, clicking off his seatbelt with one hand as he shifts the car into park with the other. He exits the car quickly, but comes to a halt just outside, clutching the driver’s side door hard with both hands as he looks at the crumpled stranger.

Debris litters the street, shards of glass which crack under Dash’s shoes. Not far from the body, he sees the shattered remnants of a phone, and then a shoe that must’ve fallen off in the crash. He approaches the stranger slowly, with careful footsteps. There’s a twinge of a metallic smell in the air, and Dash is pretty sure it’s the smell of blood.

“Hello?” he tries.

No response.

The body is facing away from him, one arm sprawled out behind the back, hand lax. Brown hair is stained with red, glistening slightly in the moonlight. The leather jacket shows signs of tearing in places, it’s skin scratched up by stones in the road. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but he’s pretty damn sure the stranger isn’t breathing.

Dash gently pushes at his back with the tip of his shoe.

No reaction.

He bites back a scream, walking away from the body, grasping both hands in his hair, gritting his teeth against the sob that threatens to tear through his chest. “This can’t be happening,” he hisses out loud, tears springing in his eyes, “I did not just kill somebody. Fucking God…”

Desperately trying to get his roaring emotions back under control, Dash crouches down in the middle of the road, breathing ragged, whining intermittently as another wave of horror tears through him.

There’s a low moan. Barely audible.

Dash freezes, a new wave of ice running down his back. He stares at the body with wide eyes, barely breathing, waiting for the sound to reappear.

And then, after a while, there it is again. A breath that hitches in a dry throat, followed by a pained sort of sound, low in the chest.

Dash stares at the moonlit silhouette for a long time, until he carefully makes his way over to it. Steeling himself for what he might be about to see, he takes a deep breath, gritting his teeth, and turns the stranger over onto his back.

The guy isn’t dead, but he looks well on his way there. His face is relatively intact, although there’s clear road rash on the side of his jaw and along one cheekbone. Trailing from his temple and down behind one ear, there is a large gash deep enough to expose the man’s skull in places. Where tears in the man’s clothing have revealed bare skin, Dash can see more road rash as well as intermittent, deep gashes in the flesh were larger bits of gravel have cut through. The man’s right arm bends strangely, Dash notices with a squeamish lurch of his stomach, and likewise, one foot faces the wrong way.

Dash looks away, swallowing down the urge to vomit.

What’s he supposed to do?

Is he supposed to take the stranger to the hospital? He’s dying, isn’t he? The speed with which Dash hit him is sure to have caused internal bleeding, brain swelling, all sorts of fatal injuries beyond the scope of what Dash can see. He would be charged with manslaughter and they’d call up witnesses from the bar and prove he drove under the influence. Isn’t that a life sentence?

And he can’t just flee the scene. Once they found the body, investigators would find Dash by the damage to his car. That’s still a life sentence.

Eyes wild, Dash looks at the stranger for a long, long time.

The decision doesn’t come to him quickly, but once the idea has found purchase in his mind, it settles, like a heavy stone in his gut. It comes reluctantly, like a dog fighting the leash, and it does not fill him with pride.  

He has to steel himself for the unpleasant task. Jaw set, he takes a deep breath and walks back towards his car. Settling in the driver’s seat and throwing the gear into reverse, he drives back until the trunk is no more than a few feet away from the body. He gets out, takes a deep breath, opens the trunk. Spies down either side of the country road, but as long as he can see, he’s alone for miles.

Dash walks up to the guy, then hesitates.

“You’ll come with me,” he mutters solemnly. He’s not sure why, it’s not like the guy is conscious to hear him. It just feels right. “I’ll, ah, I’ll set you up nice and cozy in my garage, so you don’t have to die on the road. And then, when you’re dead, I’ll bury you somewhere nice.” It sounds so, so wrong. “I’m really sorry about all this,” he adds, wincing at himself.

With nothing further to say, Dash gets to work hauling the body up, hooking his arms under the arms of the stranger. Dead weight is heavy, and the stench of blood is nearly enough to make Dash gag, but he manages to maneuver the broken man into the trunk of his car torso first, pulling up the legs afterwards.

He gathers up the most incriminating pieces of debris – the shattered phone and the shoe – and throws them into the trunk, too, before he shuts it. He can’t help but feel relieved that that part of the ordeal is over, and that the stranger’s broken body is out of sight.

At least for now.

Masterlist / Next (coming soon)

[rodrigobera04]

Continuing with the list of ideas for Pokémon, now I'm going to do it with the Psychic type.

Here it is:

PSYCHIC PURE

Sleepwalking stuffed animal that creates sleepy waves with its yawn.

Psychedelic zebra walking in herds that form abstract patterns.

Ballerina balanced on her single leg through her telepathy.

Elephant distributing its weight to stay light and float.

Related to unown, themed on numbers and sums.

Frog with spiral innards that form a hypnotic pattern.

Rabbit creating illusory copies that can multiply.

Alien cartoon star; his true form is an eldritch creature with tentacles.

Llama creating thought clouds and covering himself with them.

PSYCHIC/FAIRY

Fairy "princess" who controls fauna with music, especially butterfly Pokémon.

Anphiuma siren makes a croaking sound that creates illusions in the water.

Mothman predicting disasters and circling places to warn people.

Alien doppelganger that kidnaps people and takes their place; erases memories.

Puzzle creature, each piece has its own mind; it needs to be assembled to capture.

Invisible imp seen by children, acting as an imaginary friend.

Platypus with a sensory organ that allows it to see even with its eyes closed.

Quadrupedal magic lamp; its true body is a smoke djinn that performs wishes.

Dancing fairies making people dance in collective hysteria.

PSYCHIC/FLYING

Falcon capable of seeing the future through his greatly improved vision.

Floating sand dollar, reminiscent of a flying saucer.

Floating colorful flounder based on flying carpets.

Land animal that imagined it had wings and gained them through evolution.

Raven witch being able to fly without wings through a potion.

Floating dancer performing serpentine dance and creating abstract colorful shapes.

Little songbird flying dizzily while singing a disorienting song.

"Astronaut", mysterious space creature capable of floating in Earth's gravity.

Transparent sky rod that can erase its presence so as not to be seen.

PSYCHIC/BUG

Tse-tse fly manipulating people's dreams and nightmares.

Cricket singing angelic songs that make everyone stop and listen.

Parasitic worm wrapped around insects like a scarf, controlling their movements.

Carnivorous larva making hypnotic luminous webs that attract winged prey.

Anthill beetle creating an army of mentally manipulated ants.

Stick bug satellite dish, receiving signals and passing them to televisions.

Swarm of insects (bees or wasps) forming a humanoid being with a collective mind.

Trapdoor spider that creates wormholes to ambush prey.

Telepathic insectoid alien similar to a praying mantis.

PSYCHIC/NORMAL

Telepathic egg that is never hatched, increasing in size and multiplying.

Alien mutant cow disguised among ordinary cows.

Doodle monster brought to life by children's imagination.

Vinyl record that manipulates music around it.

Laboratory-made monkey/mouse hybrid with mental powers.

Hippie satyr with abilities to communicate with fauna and nature.

Gecko hypnotizing insects with its glowing eyes.

Clown seal creating spheres of psychic energy.

Small mammal with long whiskers resembling insect antennae.

PSYCHIC/ELECTRIC

Electric magician who manipulates static to make things float.

Creature with antennas that transforms its electrical pulsations into lightning.

Night monkey lighting up the dark with his lantern eyes.

Creature with three traffic light eyes, controlling the movement of targets.

Robot with advanced AI that gives him psychic powers.

Hammerhead shark with radar that locates hidden objects.

Heart creature, its beats manipulate emotions.

Witch creating spheres of lightning through her magic.

Chiton with magnetic ability, serving as a compass.

PSYCHIC/DARK

Nocturnal predator, confused with a UFO; livestock predator.

"Baphomet" goat using one of its horns as a black magic staff.

Parasite sloth causing the host to become very relaxed and drowsy.

Nekomata with two heads, one white, the other black, representing ying and yang.

Psychic minotaur trapping prey in labyrinthine illusions.

Eyeless cave salamander, with its gills forming closed eyelids.

Ugly creature creating a mirage disguise that makes him beautiful.

Cyclops with a single, unsettling eye, giving an uncanny valley feel.

Angler fish couple sharing their mind and with hypnotic bait.

PSYCHIC/GHOST

Astral vampire, a ghostly bat sucking positive energy from the victim.

Tiger skin with bizarre and psychedelic patterns.

Mummy manipulating people to be his servants.

Nightmare incarnate, demon that steps on sleeping people.

Scarecrow balloon haunting orchards, scaring birds with his "eyes".

Tulpa created by collective imagination that a place was haunted.

Voodoo doll hedgehog; its needles cause relief as well as pain.

Skin and bone instruments come to life in occult rituals.

Brocken specter inhabiting mountains and scaring climbers.

PSYCHIC/DRAGON

Psychic Kaiju, prefers to destroy buildings with the strength of his mind.

Kirin floating instead of walking, avoiding stepping on vegetation.

Alien race of reptiles, capable of changing shape.

Naga commanding snakes by scents and whistles, like a snake charmer.

Serpentine dragon making geometric shapes with its sinuous body.

Anglerfish like predator, with antennae imitating defenseless princesses.

Colonial monster organism like Destoroyah, formed by an individual Pokémon.

Dragon in the shape of a tongue, has a false illusory body, lying inside the "mouth".

Cockatrice with huge wings that form intimidating eyes.

PSYCHIC/WATER

Sea turtle with a calm aura, predators even give up attacking it, falling asleep.

Amabie capable of curing illnesses with just her image.

Venus glirde making undulating movements, matching its iridescence.

Hippocampus balanced on the surface of the water, performing acrobatic maneuvers.

Small fish from reef, summoning a ferocious shark from a portal.

Deep-sea toadfish, with fins for feet, slowly gaining intelligence.

Very fast sailfish, leaving an after-image, deceiving the opponent.

Peaceful pokémon that meditates over waterfalls, can even reverse water flows.

Rain elemental dancing a ritual dance to change the weather.

PSYCHIC/GRASS

Psychedelic fern with spiral leaves.

Antelopes with flowery horns that bloom when using psychic powers.

Orchid imitating a female insect to seduce males.

Bromeliad spider with a mental link to a small frog.

Tree with beard of foliage, reminiscent of a wise elderly face.

Animal housed in a hollow trunk, transforming it into a huge puppet armor.

Flower making almost inaudible noises to converse among its kind.

Hallucinogenic angel's trumpet with its flower forming a witch or wizard's hat.

"Blob" organism spreading its viscous body and branching, spreading its mind.

PSYCHIC/STEEL

Space creature making a cocoon of scrap metal in the earth's atmosphere.

Artist pokémon molding metal to create psychedelic works of art.

Psychic sniper manipulating metal and shooting guided bullets.

Monster like a spinal column with small neural tentacles like nerves.

Metallic and laminated spinning top kept upright by psychic powers.

Swordsman with needle and thread, sewing psychic threads, causing stumbles.

Heads and tails coin, changing luck in battle.

Sentient gear that gives life to mechanical bodies.

Monster with stethoscope ears, capturing sounds, can hear even on stone.

PSYCHIC/ROCK

Alien coming on a meteor, has anti-gravity powers.

Sundial, looking like a turtle, alters someone's perception of time.

Hunky punky capable of seeing a person's nature, serving as a gatekeeper.

Stone beast animated by magical petroglyphs, created to protect caves.

Rocky burrowing owl with the ability to throw stones through its mind.

Ancient toy from archaeological sites, moved by a paranormal force.

Yokai posing as a baby, like a petrified fetus, becoming heavier when carried.

Pokémon parading and balancing rocks on their heads to maintain their posture.

"Buddha", a calm stone creature meditating, and can even become light.

PSYCHIC/GROUND

Octopus adapted to land and taking a more humanoid and intelligent form.

Carpet shark altering its image to look like just its silhouette.

Sentient floor engraving, probably created to communicate with aliens.

Desert fox creating mirages with sand manipulation.

Quagga that dematerializes into dust, escaping extinction.

False tree monster, with branched horns and branched feet for communication.

Clay elf disguised in the gardens, with real eyes who see everything.

Naked mole rat queen, on top of a throne of manipulated subjects.

Mini "planet", earth and water elemental flying in its own orbit.

PSYCHIC/FIGHTING

Odalisque holding a serpent, fighting together in psychic harmony.

Contortionist capable of curling and knotting his body and limbs.

Neuron with strong tentacles, combining mind and strength.

Fragile creature commanding an organic biomass, serving as a brain.

Canine beast with radar to find victims of disasters, also raising debris.

Don Quixote-style paranoid knight, but capable of taking down even giants.

Fighter with a bump on his head that appears to increase his psychic strength.

Impact-resistant Pokémon, like a test dummy, and can heal itself with its mind.

Sleeper using pillows in combat, irritated with whoever wakes him up.

PSYCHIC/FIRE

Tarsier with huge flaming eyes that generates fire to see the future.

Desert antelope creating mirages from their super-heated horns.

Demon with a terrible fever that increases his power, but leaves his head glowing.

Spirit made of flames creating hypnotic movements while dancing.

Volcanic "deity" who manipulates minds with smoke so that they deliver sacrifices to him.

Candle changing the shapes of its flames to communicate.

flaming "cupid" that personifies passion.

Circus artist manipulating fire in the shape of balloons.

Jinni drawing powers from sunlight, radiating light.

PSYCHIC/ICE

Ice mirror distorting images and reflecting attacks.

Mountain goat balanced on thin strands of ice.

Yeti erasing memories and eluding witnesses.

Crystalline life form with a brain inside its icy body.

Intelligent cetacean evolving into a telepathic humanoid race.

Hermit turtle meditating in its shell that has become a "cave".

Crystalline ice figure, resembling a swan, skiing on the ice.

A hibernating animal, its dreams literally froze while it slept.

Snow Leopard, materializing its spots into destructive energy spheres.

THE LAST:

Psychic mythical cat formed by geometric shapes, capable of changing the dimensions,shapes,forms and size of things.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 22

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wēn Qíng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Jiāng Yànlí & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Granny Wēn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Remnants, , Fourth Uncle, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Original Characters, Niè Míngjué, Niè Huáisāng, Niè Zōnghuī

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, Bugs & Insects, Adoption, Ancestors, Ancestor Veneration, Golden Core Reveal, Top Lan Wangji | Lan Zhan/Bottom Wei Wuxian | Wei Ying, First Time Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, sex-related injury, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Stays at the Burial Mounds, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī is a Wèi, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming Niè Huáisāng

Summary: 

Notes: See end.

AO3 link

Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

-------------

Lan Wangji only realizes he fell asleep when he wakes to Xiongzhang’s voice softly calling his name from beyond the curtain, his voice edged with a lilt of concern. He eases out from under the blankets, careful not to wake Wei Ying and A-Yuan, and steps out to greet his brother, leaving the curtain open so they can see him if they wake. 

Xiongzhang is relaxed, a good sign that the rest of the discussion went well. 

“Nie Huaisang roped Wei Qionglin into helping write the poem,” is what his brother opens with. “They’re writing a yuefu using baihua, so the Jin are likely to ignore or dismiss it as some peasant obsession.”

The strategy is brilliant—folk music, particularly that which is written using baihua, is sneered at by the gentry, which would enable it to spread right under their noses, speaking to the common people and possibly even appearing written by common people, which would obfuscate the issue further for the Jin and add to the delay in trying to counter the narrative. 

Nie Huaisang is clearly hiding a brilliant mind, to so quickly plan so many steps ahead, and Lan Wangji resolves to never play weiqi with him. 

Xiongzhang lays out what occurred after they left, basically a repeat of his own experiences learning of conditions in the work camps, only with the addition of Nie Huaisang being distraught and Nie Mingjue’s fury. Now while Nie Huaisang has roped Wei Ning into writing epic poetry, Wei Qing is taking Nie Mingjue, his second, and Jiang Wanyin on a tour of the settlement and safe parts of the Burial Mounds.

“They wish to strategize what aid will be most useful,” he finishes. 

It’s clear Nie Mingjue intends to offer more than expected or hoped for, then, perhaps happy Nie Huaisang’s sworn siblinghood will permit him to do so now that he has seen the truth. 

Before he can consider a response, he feels a tug on his hanfu. 

“Baba?” a sleepy voice asks. “Nap over?”

Lan Wangji picks the boy up. He can see from Xiongzhang’s expression that he finds the scene adorable, but he turns his attention to A-Yuan. 

“You may sleep longer if you wish,” he says. 

A-Yuan mulls it over, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, and then he yawns and nods. 

He takes A-Yuan back to the bed and tucks him in again, watching for a moment as he curls closer to Wei Ying and falls back to sleep, still a little amazed he gets to have this, before rejoining his brother. 

Xiongzhang seems unbothered by the interruption, perhaps even a little amused by it, but he quickly turns to more serious issues. 

“Shufu will not come see you. He insists you will face punishment when you return to the Cloud Recesses,” he says softly, his voice regretful. 

Even though Lan Xichen is clan leader, he is expected to abide by the counsel of his elders, of which Lan Qiren is one. Xiongzhang is warning him he may not come home, at least until Shufu changes his mind. 

The pain he feels over it is somewhat brief; after all, he decided upon staying in the Burial Mounds that his home was Wei Ying, has been making plans to live with him and their son at Lotus Pier. He will always love the Cloud Recesses, though for now it will not have him. 

Xiongzhang holds out a qiankun pouch. 

“I’ve packed some of your possessions from the jingshi, some necessities that may make things better here for you and Wuxian. I’ll speak with Jiang Wanyin about transferring anything else you wish to Lotus Pier.”

Lan Wangji can only nod, a bit overcome. Was this how Wei Ying felt when Jiang Wanyin expelled him from the sect, however much that had been for show—as though the world had tilted, bile in the back of the throat, swallowed like a bitter draught?

He cannot regret what he has now, the fact that he has a husband he has loved since the moment they met, a sweet son whose continued existence is a credit to Wei Ying’s honor, who would have died terribly without his intervention. 

But the sting is there, and Lan Qiren is a stubborn sort, unlikely to admit to wrongs and likely to hold grudges, having unjustly judged Wei Ying based on the mother his husband barely knew; Lan Wangji knows his own stubbornness is come by honestly, at least, and if Shufu thinks he will abandon his husband based on his misconceptions, he will gladly persevere and show him how it’s done, even if it’s petty. 

“I will give you a list,” he says finally, aware Xiongzhang is waiting for an answer and agonizing over this new family strife. “Any furniture Jiang Wanyin feels would help furnish our quarters at Lotus Pier would be welcome, though that may be a more unrealistic undertaking.”

Qiankun pouches can only hold what could fit in the opening, after all, and the level of activity would alert Shufu, which Xiongzhang may not want if he’s doing this surreptitiously. 

“It is no trouble,” Xiongzhang replies, telling Lan Wangji that he is either openly defying Shufu, or that Shufu is amenable to his permanent removal from the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Wangji doesn’t particularly want to know which is the case at the moment—regardless, his brother is supporting them, which is the part that matters right now. 

Xiongzhang takes his leave shortly thereafter, likely to join the tour of the Burial Mounds and help troubleshoot how the rest of their stay will be made more comfortable, and Lan Wangji retreats to the alcove and pulls the curtain closed. 

While he should see what Xiongzhang brought and work on a list of what he wishes to have transported to Lotus Pier, Lan Wangji chooses instead to set aside the qiankun pouch and rejoin his husband and son in bed, though he knows his mind is too troubled to sleep. Holding them both close settles his mind a little, and he tallies a mental inventory of the jingshi until Wei Ying stirs.

His husband somehow immediately knows something is wrong, his hand coming up to smooth worry-lines on his brow and then straighten his forehead ribbon before he asks what happened, and although Lan Wangji knows it will deepen the enmity he holds toward Lan Qiren, he tells him anyway, softly so as not to wake A-Yuan. 

Wei Ying tries to apologize, as Lan Wangji knew he would, despite none of it being his fault, and he shushes him gently with kisses. 

“But your home…” Wei Ying protests, and Lan Wangji knows he is thinking about the loss of the Lotus Pier he grew up with, and the temporary loss of the rebuilt one, a loss he thought was permanent. 

“My home is Wei Ying,” he says simply, honestly, because no place can replace him. 

As is often the case, this sort of open declaration of love makes his zhiji bashful in ways their physical intimacy doesn’t, and he murmurs something about his heart and needing warning, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

With A-Yuan still asleep between them, Lan Wangji redirects instead of seeking to make him blush more, telling him of the qiankun pouch he has yet to open, and Xiongzhang’s plan to send the contents of the jingshi to Lotus Pier. 

“We will make a list together, but it need not be everything,” he tells Wei Ying, not wishing his husband to fill their home to be with only his possessions out of a sense of guilt or obligation.

Wei Ying opens his mouth, likely to protest, but A-Yuan stirs from his nap in time to prevent any argument. Lan Wangji resolves to sneak extra dessert to him, now that they have plenty of food and will likely receive more from several sects. 

The boy rubs at his eyes and yawns, but is already much more cognizant than he was the last time he woke, as he remembers their visitors and immediately wants to go play with them, giving Lan Wangji a rather amusing mental image of Nie Mingjue crouched in the dirt with a grass butterfly playing with A-Yuan. 

Though he knows Wei Ying will likely argue to bring the whole jingshi to Lotus Pier for his comfort later, the reprieve is welcome, as they dress and rejoin their guests in the great hall. 

Unsurprisingly, Nie Huaisang immediately ropes Wei Ying into the poetry project Wei Ning is helping with—and Wei Ning has undergone a transformation visually, his hair sleek with hair oil and up in a proper crown, the guan of a Nie design, and in fresh robes rather than the tattered ones he has been wearing. But for the pallor of his skin, he could be mistaken for someone who survived corpse poisoning, and the transformation is striking, the young man looking almost as he had at the Cloud Recesses before the war. 

Clearly Nie Huaisang has been busy, as he waves Lan Wangji over and explains the others are still outside touring the Burial Mounds.

“I’m sure Dage found some ferocious yao to play with,” he says with no small amount of amusement. “Lady Wei mentioned there were some areas warded off with worthy prey.”

Wei Ying lets out an amused snort, already glancing through and somewhat distracted by the sheets of parchment on the table and idly spinning Chenqing. 

“He’s welcome to them. I just haven’t had enough time to tackle that issue yet—farmable land has been the priority here. Hell, if he wants to bring Nie disciples on training missions to those areas, he’s welcome to it, so long as no one hurts Wei Ning.”

Or energy or health, Lan Wangji knows, though he doesn’t comment—his husband’s health is no one else’s business.

A-Yuan seems to understand he won’t be allowed to go play with their guests and will instead need to wait for them to return, and Nie Huaisang helps matters by gifting him a little fan to play with, which almost immediately best friends with the grass butterfly. 

Lan Wangji is somewhat torn over whether to stay and engage in poetic discussion or to seek their other guests in case Wei Qing feels overwhelmed, but then he remembers Jiang Wanyin is with her and decides his place is here. 

Wei Ning excuses himself to refresh the teapot, taking the packet of tea Nie Huaisang presses on him before leaving at a pace that could almost be considered fleeing, A-Yuan toddling after him asking for a snack. It quickly becomes apparent why when Wei Ying goes still, nearly fumbling Chenqing. 

“You’re putting it in there?” he asks, his voice tight with anxiety. 

Lan Wangji goes to him, glancing at the parchment to see the poem discusses the golden core transfer—even the duration and pain—and then his capture by Wen Chao and subsequent plummet into the Burial Mounds. This explains Wei Ning’s haste to leave. 

“Jiang-xiong insisted,” Nie Huaisang says defensively, his fan fluttering. 

Wei Ying lets out a sound between a sigh and a groan, and Lan Wangji moves closer to him under the cover of peering closer at the papers, letting him lean close for comfort. He won’t go against Jiang Wanyin on this decision, he knows, and he can see the Jiang sect leader’s logic—none could know of Wei Ying’s sacrifice and call him evil. 

After a few deep breaths, leaning into Lan Wangji less than subtly, Wei Ying eventually sighs. 

“Jiang Cheng has the right to decide.”

Lan Wangji sits beside him, taking his free hand and rubbing his thumb against his knuckles. 

“Wei Ying’s honor should be known,” he murmurs. 

He knows his husband didn’t do it for honor; they’ve had that conversation before. However, his actions show how truly honorable and caring Wei Ying is, and Lan Wangji, selfishly, wishes to hear the common people speak this truth instead of the despicable lies that have spread. 

Wei Ning returns with tea, A-Yuan toddling after him with a tray of snacks for all of them. While he pours for them, Wei Ying shoves Chenqing in his belt, grabs the brush from the inkstone and alters a line slightly. Nie Huaisang leans over his shoulder and makes an approving noise. 

“Ah, you’re right. That would be more what the common folk would say, Wei-xiong.”

Wei Ying nods, taking a sip of tea. 

“I used to sit near the tea and wine houses. They were warm and had nice music to listen to, and sometimes they’d let me have leftovers.”

His voice is distant as he changes a few bits on another line. Nie Huaisang glances at Lan Wangji, who knows his husband rarely speaks of his time on the streets as a child. He squeezes Wei Ying’s hand and is met with a wan smile. 

“The baihua needs to be believable or someone might catch on that members of the gentry wrote it. We want it to seem organic, right?”

“Right,” Nie Huaisang echoes, nonplussed. 

Ultimately he joins them on Wei Ying’s other side, thanking Wei Ning for the tea before watching as more changes are made, occasionally rewriting entire lines or shifting idioms to be those more in line with commoners’ language. 

A-Yuan climbs onto Lan Wangji’s lap, eager for his snack, red bean mantou, happily occupied. Also available are zongzi with jujube filling, drizzled in honey, which he feeds to Wei Ying while he works, earning an appreciative hum. 

Wei Ning excuses himself to start cooking the evening meal, taking a qiankun pouch Nie Huaisang presses on him. 

“We’re imposing, so we should provide the food,” he says when he sees Lan Wangji watching. “And anyway, we’re descended from butchers, so we’ve brought plenty of meat to last you a while.”

Nie Huaisang could not have known their intention to invite him and his brother here, so he must have either had the qiankun pouch ready and intended to get it to them somehow, or he filled it in Lanling. 

Lan Wangji privately hopes he cleaned out the larder at Koi Tower. 

Regardless, the food is welcome, and they will have little need to scrape and go hungry given how much has been provided to them, which will be good for Wei Ying’s help. 

He focuses on feeding Wei Ying his snack, then wiping off A-Yuan’s hands and face, brushing crumbs off his mini disciple uniform, before eating his own zongzi. 

It’s comfortably calm as he reads over Wei Ying’s shoulder, as he makes minor changes to the baihua and altered wording in places for various reasons. Nie Huaisang challenges him on a few of them and they debate poetics. Often Wei Ying wins by pointing out the difference between commoner poetics and gentry poetics, but Nie Huaisang wins a few. 

Lan Wangji is happy to hold A-Yuan on his lap as he plays with his grass butterfly and the fan Nie Huaisang gave him, making them hold a little murmured conversation, and let the discussion wash over him. But he notices a factual error himself and points it out, and is drawn in that way on the merits of poetic license versus a need to be close to the truth. (He wins that one.)

By the time Wei Qing and their guests join them, the rest of the Wei clan filing in for dinner, they’ve added lines in places, removed them in others, and have drafted a fair bit of the rest. 

They only notice they have an audience when Jiang Wanyin clears his throat, and Lan Wangji feels like a child caught doing something naughty until he catches Xiongzhang trying and failing to hide a smile—perhaps they’ve been watching for a while, since he and Nie Huaisang only just finished a debate over certain details describing himself, which he can guess Lan Xichen would find amusing, and Nie Mingjue seems similarly amused. 

Honestly, Nie Huaisang is far too interested in flowery language and making use of symbolism referencing his title, and Wei Ying was little help against it, agreeing vehemently that he should be described in the way the common people see him. 

A-Yuan squirms down from his lap, abandoning his grass butterflies on the table, to run to his Jiang-shushu and ask to be picked up; Jiang Wanyin obliges with a soft smile on his face. 

“Just in time, Dage—we’ve almost got the whole thing drafted!” Nie Huaisang crows, apparently unbothered by their audience. “Wei-xiong’s so much better at baihua than I am, it’s unfair.”

“Aiya, Nie-xiong, you’re better at the poetry part, with all that symbolism, so don’t put yourself down,” Wei Ying teases, his voice warm and amused, and Lan Wangji can almost imagine they’re back before the war, him catching the two of them up to shenanigans at the Cloud Recesses. 

Wei Ying’s modesty is false, given the number of times Lan Wangji has heard him reference poetry in ways so subtle one not trained in the arts might miss, but he is letting Nie Huaisang save face. 

Jiang Wanyin hands A-Yuan to Wei Qing and comes over to check the sheets of parchment, then nods in satisfaction. 

“Good, you didn’t take it out. Nie-xiong, be sure to put a lot of symbolism in that implies my idiot shixiong is a self-sacrificing idiot.”

Nie Huaisang laughs. 

“Oh, I took artistic license, so Wei-xiong managed to grow white lotuses in the Burial Mounds.”

They debated over that detail for a while, with Wei Ying feeling the implied connection with Guanyin was a bit much, and Nie Huaisang pointing out that his sacrifices for his brother and the now-Weis justified the imagery. 

Wei Ying’s last-ditch argument was that lotuses would never grow in the Burial Mounds, at which Nie Huaisang snorted and pointed out that he was the exemplification of the Jiang sect motto and the common people would believe he could after he survived being tossed in the Burial Mounds. 

The casual reference to what Wen Chao had done to him stopped the argument in its tracks. Wei Ying went quiet, his eyes distant, in a way that made Nie Huaisang fret, assuring Lan Wangji he won’t make that mistake again. That time is something his husband has not opened up to him about, which he knows likely means it was so bad he can’t yet put it into words.

The white lotus has its own symbolism, beyond the association with Guanyin. The lotus itself is a symbol of purity and enlightenment in art. While white is often associated with death—Wei Ying’s jokes about Gusu Lan robes come to mind, as well as Lan Wangji’s own fears for the future—the color represents metal in wuxing and is also used to reference innocence or honesty. White lotuses themselves imply purity and enlightenment, and with the poem woven as it is, it adds to the implication that Wei Ying himself embodies those elements.

In Lan Wangji’s opinion, he does, but he also knows he is a little biased. The goal, though, is to convince the common people. 

He can see the way Xiongzhang’s mind follows a similar logical progression.

“Isn’t that… blatant?” he asks. 

Wei Ying exchanges a look with Nie Huaisang and shrugs. 

“It’s for the common people—many never learn to read, so most commoner works imply less and say more. There are different levels, of course, but this will be more understandable to the least educated among them.”

“Wei-xiong argued against it, and lost,” Nie Huaisang says, sounding far too pleased with himself. 

“I still don’t think they’d grow here,” he mutters, still a little petulant. 

“Somehow I get the feeling if you tried, they’d grow,” Wei Qing tells him with no small amount of wryness; after all, Wei Ying has pushed the boundaries of impossible in simply still living. “It’s not like we’re on the verge of starvation anymore, so I don’t have a problem with you trying.”

“I’ll send some seed varieties—there are some that aren’t edible, but are more hardy,” Jiang Wanyin cuts in.

The gesture seems to surprise Wei Ying, and Jiang Wanyin huffs as though put out, looking away and crossing his arms. 

“You should have a piece of home with you if you can’t come home right away,” he adds gruffly.

Wei Ying goes still and silent, his eyes shimmering with emotion a bit even in the dim light of the cave, and he just nods.

The atmosphere is too hushed for a moment, but it’s thankfully broken by A-Yuan asking Nie Mingjue about his mustache—or, more accurately, if he can call the Nie sect leader ‘Huzi-gege.’

Nie Zonghui fails to hold in a snort, and it instantly shifts the mood. Nie Huaisang giggles behind his fan, Xiongzhang smiles widely, and even Jiang Wanyin can’t keep his lips from curving upward. 

“You know,” Nie Mingjue says, kneeling so he’s at A-Yuan’s height, “my didi is going to be your die’s sworn brother. So I think it’s okay for you to call me Bofu.”

A-Yuan looks delighted by this, and Lan Xichen pats the boy on the head. 

“Your baba is my didi, so you may call me Bobo.”

The boy grins. He tilts his head for a moment, then points, to Nie Mingjue, then Xiongzhang, the Jiang Wanyin, and then finally Nie Huaisang.

“Bofu, Bobo, Shushu… Shufu?”

Nie Huaisang waves his fan almost frantically. 

“Aiya! You make me sound old. Maybe call me Xiaoshu… Ah, no, that’s Wei Ning. Ershu?”

Wei Ying nods, looking overwhelmed again; Lan Wangji knows it’s likely because he’s been claimed family by the Nie, before the ceremony, even. Family is important to his husband, as he has lost far too much of it. He feels it as an orphan himself. 

“Ershu,” A-Yuan parrots and nods, then looks at Jiang Wanyin again. “Dashu?”

The Jiang sect leader nods and beckons to the boy, who is all too glad to come be picked up.

Popo wanders in, stopping next to Nie Mingjue and patting his arm affectionately, which tells Lan Wangji the conversation they slept through was very fruitful.

“A-Ning’s nearly finished with dinner,” she tells them. “He said we have Qinghe to thank for the meal.”

Nie Mingjue shoots a somewhat incredulous look at Nie Huaisang, who shrinks behind his fan. 

“You knew we’d be coming here,” he asks.

“I don’t know! I just had it with me, just in case. Like maybe I could pass it to Jin-shao-furen, and she could get it to Wei-xiong. I hoped.”

Nie Mingjue just shakes his head and turns to Popo.

“Lao-Wei, we are honored to provide. I look forward to sharing a meal with you.”

The address alone indicates respect, and is an acceptance of Wei Ying’s adoption of the former Wen remnants, and it eases a concern Lan Wangji didn’t know he had.

The rest of the remnants trickle in as dinner time approaches, some carrying steaming plates and tureens, and Nie Huaisang bundles the parchment with the unfinished poem into a pouch in his sleeve, while Wei Ying sets the inkstone and brush aside. 

One of the main dishes for dinner is a stewed long feng pei, often served at wedding banquets, which leads to a whispered discussion between the Nie brothers. 

“It’s like a wedding banquet,” Wei Ying murmurs to him, soft and only for him, giving him a dark look that is a tantalizing promise for later. 

Nie Huaisang’s gentle message through food is touching, as he is clearly throwing them a banquet. Nearly all of the dishes feature meat, from mutton to beef to duck, and even a platter of fish. The sauces are rich and savory. 

The dishware is unfamiliar, much better quality than what they have been using. 

There’s no possibility that Wei Ning prepared all of this, meaning Nie Huaisang brought cooked dishes placed in stasis talismans. Somehow he knew he would be coming to the Burial Mounds, and had prepared this in advance, all without his brother’s knowledge. Nie Huaisang has been watching, and he wants them to know—and from the way Wei Qing and Wei Ying exchange subtle looks with him, it lands. 

He resolves to taste every dish, even those with meat, out of respect for the dual messages being sent.

Lan Wangji is relieved that Nie Huaisang is helping them. With what this implies about his network, the poem’s distribution will be swift, and the work to shift Wei Ying’s reputation among the common people will soon begin. 

Dinner starts off awkward, but Nie Mingjue helps break the ice by discussing his ideas for handling the warded areas—and he’s only too happy with Wei Ying’s offer to use them as a training ground. 

“Jiang disciples would benefit from such training, as well,” Jiang Wanyin comments. 

“The Lan would be pleased to join intersect night hunts,” Xiongzhang adds. “Strengthening ties is logical now that our sects will be tied through brotherhood.”

The message is that aid will be delivered regularly, and there will be the protection of three sects. It will eventually catch the attention of the Jin, but by that time hopefully Wei Ying’s reputation will be rehabilitated and Jin Guangshan will be powerless. 

Dinner eventually turns perhaps predictably raucous, given that Wei Ying, Nie Huaisang, and Jiang Wanyin are together and wine is available. Older now, Lan Wangji can find some humor in their routine, meant to entertain both themselves and those around them, but it’s more in the nostalgia of simpler times, before the war and all it had wrought. Wei Ying turns to him occasionally with a fleeting bittersweet expression, as though he feels similarly.

Wei Qing, he notices, is watching on with a sort of fondness, particularly as they bring Wei Ning into it, though perhaps it’s his newly groomed appearance and the reason for it. She has spent dinner at the same table as Popo and Nie Mingjue, discussing the finer points of golden core and meridian research. Lan Wangji was not aware that was one of Chifeng-Zun’s interests, but given his father’s death by qi deviation makes some sense. 

The conversation peters out when A-Yuan asks if he could ride on his bofu’s shoulders, and Nie Mingjue was powerless to his charm—though he wasn’t so charmed as to not to clean the boy’s hands, sticky with a dessert of jellied date candy. 

His earlier mental image does nothing to prepare him for seeing Nie Mingjue actually playing with A-Yuan and his grass butterfly and fan. He doesn’t seem to mind, which makes sense given the sect leader dotes upon his little brother and partially raised him. 

With A-Yuan engaging Nie Mingjue, Wei Qing is able to observe as he has been, for a little while, at least until Xiongzhang slips into the vacated seat next to her. 

As hai shi approaches, Lan Wangji can see Wei Ying’s energy flagging, likely from a combination of factors. The good and heavy food, combined with his general need of healing, and the fact that they had not done his evening musical acupuncture treatment, perhaps. The wine increased it all. He can’t quite keep himself from wincing when he moves in certain ways, is hiding the shakiness of his hands by keeping his wine bottle on the table between sips. 

Just as Lan Wangji is considering how to step in, Nie Huaisang gestures to Nie Mingjue, who brings over a sleepy A-Yuan. 

It’s a socially acceptable reason to retire, so Lan Wangji steps forward and intercepts Popo, telling her they will ready him for bed, and she can retrieve him in a bit. Readying A-Yuan for bed will allow her to enjoy the gathering a bit longer, and she deserves to enjoy it. Wei Ying will need to soak, likely longer than usual, providing ample time to see to the child’s nightly routine. 

He collects his husband and son, stopping Wei Ying from trying to lift the boy into his arms and instead doing it himself. With the busy day they’ve had, he’d rather not add to the strain on his body.

Nie Huaisang nods at him, and he realizes his soon to be sworn brother has been monitoring Wei Ying just as he has, and is accommodating his needs by anticipating them, even bringing Nie Mingjue in on it.

An effort to work together toward a common goal of restoring Wei Ying’s health, perhaps. 

As he lets Wei Ying lean against him, taking part of his body weight, and they head through to the cave, Lan Wangji thinks, whatever his old classmate’s plan, whatever conversation occurred while they slept, if it involves helping Wei Ying, he approves wholeheartedly. 

--------

Taking a short break from final grading to post this. Thanks to adrian_kres for the beta!

Yuefu is a style of narrative poetry that basically borrows from Chinese folk song traditions. The Ballad of Mulan is an example. 

Baihua is written vernacular Chinese, which would be looked down upon at the time compared to Old Chinese, which was more formal. It’s definitely not something the gentry would typically engage with. 

Most people know weiqi as Go. I suck at that game. The strategy eludes me, so I bet I’d get killed quick in a zombie apocalypse. 

Wuxing is the Five Phases, or Five Elements, which is very prevalent in Chinese culture. 

Bofu and bobo are both terms for father’s older brother, but the first is more formal. 

Long feng pei translates to dragon and phoenix and is stewed fish and chicken, at least in Hebei cuisine. Since dragon and phoenix imagery is rife in weddings, it’s no surprise this dish often features.

Of course Popo is taking A-Yuan for the night. Nie Huaisang just recreated a wedding banquet.

Other Chinese pinyin translations:

baba = dad

dage = eldest brother

dashu = eldest uncle

didi = younger brother

ershu = second uncle

gege = elder brother

hai shi = the 9-11pm time period

hanfu = robe

huzi = mustache

Lao-Wei = Elder Wei

mantou = steamed bun

shao-furen = younger madam

shixiong = elder martial sibling

shufu = uncle (father’s younger brother), formal

shushu = uncle (father’s younger brother), informal

xiaoshu = youngest uncle

xiong = brother (in this case an indication of closeness)

xiongzhang = elder brother

zhiji = one who knows you best in this life

zongzi = glutenous rice stuffed with filling and wrapped in bamboo leaves

[oceanblueeyesoul]

hello! could i please get a wednesday match up?

my name is lana my pronouns are she/her and im a straight girl :]

i dont know my exact height but i know im short. i have short black hair and i wear glasses ! and im skinny. i like to wear oversized shirts and anything comfortable

im infp. im very shy and get nervous around strangers and dont talk a lot and just nod or shake my head. when im comfortable with someone i do talk and my cousin said that im random like twice, when im irritated or something like that i just stay silent and sulk somewhere in the corner. i'd say im pretty sensitive and get hurt easily im pretty insecure about myself

i love to draw and listen to music! i also really love cats or any animals excluding insects. i like to listen to the smiths, weezer, slipknot, MF DOOM, lana del rey.

im not an athletic person at all. i get tired easily and walking fast has me panting for my breath already.

Oh and im taurus

(i hope these are enough n if there are like mistakes sorry abt that im pretty sleepy rn)

Hi there, Lana! I really hope you like this a lot!

Wednesday (Netflix) Matchup

Your Wednesday (Netflix) soulmate is...

XAVIER THORPE!

The two of you would be drawing something together because you are each other's muse for your art projects and for class too.

He would buy you a pet cat for your birthday or anniversary because he knows that you love all animals excluding insects as well.

He would give all the hugs in the world if he has to stop you of being insecure all the time.

[leiselaute]

The Boats - Victor Silvester Plays For A Party from "Sleepy Insect Music". Released 2010 april 23 via Home Normal

[waiting-on-a-dream]

My Milgram ocs as kids!

Links:

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/186583

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/32253

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/947708

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/11529

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/41329

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1497656

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/338622

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1115377

Ichiro:

Always staring at things with his big innocent eyes.

Overshares when he gets attached to someone new but doesn't miss them much when they stop hanging out with him.

A bit sensitive and quick to anger, but calm downs easily with the right tactics. (Give him Keiko)

Tends to hide behind his mom when adults try and talk to him.

Had a habit of doodling on the walls of his house until his mom scolded him for it. He learned to stick to paper.

Akane:

Her classmates say she always looks constipated due to her frowning all the time.

Falls asleep in class often. Her grade average is barely a D.

Has lots of cooking related injuries from making meals.

Helps out at a restaurant near her house for some pocket money. The owners like her hardworking spirit, and will often let her bring back some good leftovers for dinner.

She likes to buy cheap toys that catch her interest and hide them under her bed or in her closet so her dad can't find them and play with them in the middle of the night.

Daisuke:

Cries every time he spills any food or drink on his soft toys.

Often uses his cute face to make people dote on him. He likes receiving free things most of all.

Helps out with setting up the dining table so he can eat earlier. His mother appreciates it, despite his self-centered motive.

Obsessed with paper money (up until he turned 10). Will play all sorts of games with it. And lose a bunch of bills.

Has to watch every single episode of his favourite cartoons or he'll be grumpy for the rest of the day. But if he doesn't take a nap in the afternoon, he'll be sleepy during dinnertime.

Suzume:

So quiet in school, most of her peers think she's mute.

Excels in art class as she likes the projects. She has a good relationship with her art teacher, who encourages her a lot.

Will make friendship bracelets for anyone whom she's comfortable with. Anyone else who wants them either has to pay up or give something in return.

Likes to have pretend tea parties with her sister. Real ones are fun too! But she can't have cookies too often.

Loves watching romance movies. Her father hates them, but will watch them with her to have some quality time together.

Haku:

His mom would play classical music when she was pregnant with him. Maybe that's why he has such a passion for it now?

Has a few toy instruments that he won't stop playing. He loves the sounds they make. He's driving his parents up a wall.

He started playing the piano when he was five years old.

Has a bit of separation anxiety. He doesn't like being away from family, especially his brother. His brother was assigned to a different class for kindergarten, and he cried the first day.

Has a special hatred for car seats. The hardest step of taking him anywhere by car is fastening the seat belts of his car seat.

Yui:

Thinks butterflies are really pretty but gets scared whenever one comes near her because she doesn't like insects.

Has butterfly stickers and glow-in-dark-stars all over her room.

Forced her older brother to learn how to tie pigtails. He did it for her almost everyday until she became a teenager.

Tried attending her older brother's robotics classes for a month until she got bored and decided to quit.

Enjoys bandaging her brothers' wounds whenever they get hurt. She likes being able to help. They don't thank her often though.

Rin:

Doesn't mind wearing his sisters' hand-me-downs. He'll also demand for more hairclips whenever they get their own.

Gets along well with his sisters as he'll play whatever they're playing. They adore him to bits. His parents have to step in sometimes to make sure they don't spoil him too much.

Likes being wheeled around in his wheelchair, but doesn't like not being able to decide where he's going for himself.

Once ate so much candy after a successful Halloween trick-or-treating, his tongue hurt from all the sugar.

Gets excited whenever he sees a plushie bigger than him. His parents are yet to buy him something like that though.

Noa:

The best at scooping up fish for those festival games. She can scoop up at least two with every try.

The type of toddler that would play "twinkle twinkle little star" 100 times a day. The song still haunts her parents.

Likes to play nurse with her soft toys, feeding them imaginary medicine and wrapping them up with cloth for bandages.

Will play games with her brothers to spend time with them. But she gets tired after a while because they're very competitive.

Insists on visiting a water park every time for her family's annual outing. Her brothers agreed with her the first few times, but now argue with her suggestions, wanting to go somewhere else.

Kiyoshi:

Very well-behaved, would do just about anything his parents ask him to do. However, he's a messy eater.

Has a puppy that he named "Hiro". He plays catch with him every after after school, sometimes forgetting to shower beforehand.

Very competitive at soccer when playing against his friends, but he won't get upset if he loses. Only if he makes stupid mistakes.

Used to being doted upon by everyone in his community. He's being trained for public speaking every time he tells stories to a mini crowd of uncles and aunties.

Makes friends easily but has trouble recognizing the ones that aren't good for him. (His parents have sat him down to talk to him about not being friends with a boy who stole his money anymore.)

Mayumi:

Always had a fascination for biology.

Would stay up late reading books next to her nightlamp behind her mother's back until she needed glasses because of it.

Learned to cook by watching her mother do it until she was old enough to reach the stove.

Often asked to taste test the dishes cooked by her neighbor sometime before a date with his girlfriend. She makes sure to tell him when the food isn't good so he won't embarrass himself.

Reads in her free time every weekend. Every Monday, she'll come to school with a new book. Her classmates can't help but be impressed with how quickly she can go through them.

[tothemoonandback]

Regressor Eugene Headcanons!

For @dndjjdjsjsjsjdjchhc

Little age is in the 1-3 range.

His regression is involuntary and is usually a happy experience unless something upsetting triggers him.

Wednesday knows about his regression and she takes care of him and is sweet about it in her own way.

Still loves bugs even when regressed.

Collects stuffed animals of all different kinds of insects (bees, grasshoppers, butterflies, etc.)

Definitely is the type of regressor to enjoy playing outside.

Overalls are a great regression clothing item for him and never fail to make him feel small.

Gets sleepy really easily.

Love stickers and probably has a sticker journal where he makes sticker collages on the pages.

He's pretty clingy when regressed. If someone is there to take care of him, Eugene is holding their hand.

Hums to himself a lot.

Watches child-friendly animal/insect documentaries to get himself to sleep sometimes.

Has a habit of putting the sleeve of his shirt in his mouth instead of using an oral stim toy or paci (If he's wearing long sleeves, that is).

Likes to snack on vegetables like baby carrots, celery, or cucumbers.

Loves music box music.

[abc04]

age regressor donna beneviento hcs

note: we wrote this a while ago, and i decided to post it while clearing out our drafts. we don’t write often, and this is the first piece we’ve written that we’re posting here, so please be kind! feel free to add on to this if you’d like.

[image description: a transparent banner with a cutesy drawing of a white rabbit holding a pink heart out in front of it on the left. on the right, there’s a drawing in the same style of a white rabbit holding a pink heart in one hand above its head. there is light purple text in the center that reads “DNI KINK, NSFW, DDLG, or sexualize childrens content.” the words ‘kink’ and ‘sexualize’ are censored. /end ID]

- donna’s age regressed for as long as she can remember. it’s always just sort of been something she experienced, especially after the death of her parents

- she doesn’t talk very much to begin with, but when she regresses, she loses speech completely.

- angie sort of acts as a caretaker for her; reminding her to eat, bringing her snacks, helping her get ready for bed. and playing with her, of course!

- when small, donna becomes very uncoordinated. her usually nimble fingers are clumsy, which means she can’t work on her dolls or sew or anything like that. this frustrates her, especially when donna’s in the middle of a project she’s super excited about, but she understands to be patient with her little self.

- her favorite activities when regressed are drawing and playing with dolls! she has some crayons and colored pencils she uses to make art. donna could sit on the floor and color for hours on end- it’s only because she has angie to remind her to take breaks that she doesn’t.

- she likes to have tea parties with all her doll friends :)

- donna likes sweets, but when small, she LOVES them. she tries to keep a supply of small cakes and candies to snack on when she is regressed.

- she’s very sensory seeking, as well as energetic. her favorite stims when small are swinging, jumping, and tactile stims like bumpy textures.

- having a set routine is very important for her, especially in terms of self care. donna has a morning and evening routine! when she’s regressed, angie helps to remind her of them.

- she loves music! donna likes having classical music playing right before bed. it helps her wind down and get sleepy!

- donna loves to play in the garden. when small, she’ll go outside and watch insects flutter around her flowers.

[maris-rose]

The Tups!

Menaces to society!!

Another set of Rise!OCs I made with @chartreuse-you-lose

They are bog turtle twins who were mutated in egg, which helped them survive development.

They were part of a zoo breeding program and when they hatched and were obviously mutated Gazellow got called in to take them as he was mutated at a zoo and also had been taking care of T’ellie for several months to a year or so at this point.

This Does make their timeline a Little confusing but we’re Ignoring that

They are bog turtles so they are Very Small and kinda round and they grow rather slowly.

-> They top out at 4ish feet only growing a couple of cm every few years once they hit like 20.

They like to coordinate when they can and definitely have created a TSL*/pidgin dialect that T’ellie can follow and Gazellow Usually understands (like 75-80% of the time)

(* turtle sign language)

They hibernated when they were little but as they get older they just get really sleepy and lethargic when it’s cold out.

They are Jewish! (Because I’m Jewish and it’s important to me lol) but they live in New York and actually have a decent amount of contact with the Muslim and Indian communities.

I think because Gazellow and T’ellie got mutated basically in public they have a community of people “in the know”, thus less cautious about going out and about, and are also better as disguises than the TMNT boyz so they wander around the city as much as they can

Between the two of them they also speak some Russian, mandarin, Hindi, and Farsi with varying degrees of fluency

Florin

He/they/she pronouns (gender on rotation for max chaos and comedy)

A slightly darker green and a more coppery color to his markings

Not very musical but enjoys the kazoo and also percussion 🥁

More introverted than his twin

Has the ‘tism

Will Stare at you ⚫️_⚫️

Collects modern coins

Enjoys mustard but cannot whistle

Is into entomology (bugs)

(In the bad/post apocalyptic timeline they farm insects and fungi to supplement the food stores)

Barbie core 💖

Obsessed with one piece and Naruto (to the annoyance of T’ellie who didn’t watch ether)

Chaotic evil 💗

Likes to Vape and steal (has never actually Bought a vape)

Uses All the gen alpha slang that literally no one but Aureus understands

On tictok and helps run a YouTube channel with both Aureus and T’ellie

Sneaky

Loves a good weighted blanket

Has moth antenna headphones

Love Mud

Enjoyer of Excel

Likes psychic, fairy, and poison types of Pokémon

Aureus

She/they/he (gender on rotation for max chaos and comedy)

Lighter green with markings that are more gold in color

Plays synth

Slightly more outgoing than Florin

Collects ancient coins

Needs glasses

Very into computers

Like coding and hacking

Techno goth 🩵🖤

Obsessed with one piece and Naruto (to the annoyance of T’ellie who didn’t watch ether)

Chaotic evil 💗

Likes to Vape and steal (has never actually Bought a vape)

Also uses too much gen alpha slang

Is on tictok and helps run the shared YouTube channel

Has ADHD

Quiet and sneaky

Also a weighted blanket enjoyer

Has cat ear headphones

Loves excel

Fan of Mud

Likes electric, steal, and ghost type Pokémon

They aren’t allowed to play with weapons for a while but are really good at infiltration and do eventually train with knives, bolas, darts etc.

I’ll post more art of them soon

[abyssalhoard]

°•☆ Hello ! My name is Abyss☆•°

If you know our main, good for you! This is our new hoard blog so we can sort thinfs out better !!!

Tags:

🚹 ; Boy / Masculine / etc

🚺 ; Girl / Feminine / etc

🩹 ; Infection / Scars / Trauma

🧁 ; Pink

🥀 ; Red

🔥 ; Orange

✨️ ; Yellow / Gold

🌳 ; Green

🐬 ; Blue

🌌 ; Purple

🕳 ; Black

🔭 ; Grey / Silver

❔️ ; White

🦌 ; Brown

🌈 ; Multicolor / Rainbow

🐇 ; Bunny / Hares

🦮 ; Disabilities / ND / Etc

🫂 ; Plurality

⚰️ ; Death / Decay / Rot

🩸 ; Blood / Gore

💉 ; Medical / Hospital / Doctor

🔪 ; Horror / Slasher / Killer

👻 ; Haunting / Ghosts / etc

🪡 ; Plushies / Toys

💋 ; 18+ / Minors DNI

🔱 ; Demons / Succubi / etc

💫 ; Angels / Seraphim / etc

📸 ; Objectum / POSIC+

💬 ; Pronouns

👁 ; Weirdcore

💭 ; Dreamcore

💤 ; Sleepy

🖤 ; Void / Black Holes

🌠 ; Space

🌙 ; Moon / Night

☀️ ; Sun / Day

🧪 ; Science

🐺 ; Otherkin

🍭 ; Fictionkin

🌷 ; IRLs

🧜‍♀️ ; Mermaids / Sirens / etc

🦄 ; Unicorns / Pegasi / etc

🍖 ; Cannibalism

🍰 ; Food

🏘 ; Liminal Space

🌐 ; Fandom

🐈 ; Cats / Tigers / etc

🐕 ; Dogs / Wolves / etc

🐎 ; Horses

🪶 ; Birds

💎 ; Crystals / Gems / Etc

📺 ; Technology / webcore

🧼 ; Cleancore

🧸 ; Agere / Kidcore / etc

🦭 ; Sea Animals

🦋 ; Insects

🐾 ; Other Animals

🧟 ; Zombie / Undead

🌊 ; Abyss

💧 ; Elements (water fire etc)

👥️️ ; Shadows / Darkness

🕯 ; Light

🌹 ; Flowers

🔩 ; Robots / AI / Cyborgs / animatronics / etc

🔮 ; Magic

🌲 ; Forests

📄 ; ID packs

👑 ; Royalty

🌺 ; Scents

🎼 ; Sounds

🎵 ; Music

🧠 ; Arizzo