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#not that I was in the bug community but I have failed them regardless
sprooknooky · 10 months
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I can’t do roaches. I can’t. I’m sorry. I have failed the bug community
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gwaedhannen · 4 months
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5, 12, 13 for Elwing if you want
-@outofangband
Also got 5/14/22/25 for Elwing from another anon.
5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?
Sunblind by Fleet Foxes, thanks to The Myth Hanging Heavy Over You, of course.
For a second answer since it got asked twice, Anthem by Leonard Cohen. Bird imagery of course, and it's a very Tolkien song in general, all about finding beauty and love in a broken world.
Yeah the wars they will be fought again The holy dove she will be caught again Bought and sold and bought again The dove is never free Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack, a crack in everything That's how the light gets in
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
Pulling from The Myth Hanging Heavy Over You again, she cries a lot but really didn't want Elros and Elrond to know. Hence leaving in the middle of the night to cry over (and eat) the lembas she can't give to Earendil, and the handkerchiefs hidden in every piece of furniture in their house so she can quickly dry her tears at any moment.
13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?
It's a wonderful day in Gillond, and you are a horrible 🪿
(that's :goose: in case it's not rendering)
14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.
I think she makes a point in Valinor to wear as little white as possible. Both because it reminds her of the Kinslaying and her attempted suicide, and because she's a bit miffed at how she got turned into a symbol. Turns out you can wear as technicolor an ensemble as you want, and it'll still look good in Silmaril-light.
She absolutely plays up the bird motifs for formal events though. Helps that she has an infinite source of feathers from her friends!
22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?
Like: giving her friends and a community in Valinor! I don't know why it seems like the default is to make her completely isolated at her tower aside from Earendil, but it bugs me.
Dislike: aside from the obvious (bashing her to make the Feanorians look better), silver-haired Elwing just irks me the wrong way for no real reason. Dark hair just seems right! Although my personal image of her does have a single streak of white-silver hair among the dark.
25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?
I first read the Silm some 15 years ago so I honestly don't remember? Probably something along the lines of "aw that's sad".
Now: must protecc. Let her be angry! Let her look at the world that failed her and twisted her into an instrument of fate and demand it do better! Let her look in the eyes of her childhood monsters who ruined her life twice and know it doesn't matter to her whether she forgives them or not, because she's healed regardless!
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laikodaemon · 2 months
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Ok. Wizard. And A Lot Of Things That Aren't Wizards.
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See below for easier viewing of each and some context for the whole project.
A week ago, I saw a meme about wizard orbs being wizard eggs.
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I thought the concept was fascinating. Wizard Lifecycle was born.
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After I shared wizard lifecycle with some friends, one of them asked me what kind of wizard would come from a great rhombic triacontahedron. From this, Thing That Should Not Be was born.
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Emboldened by my willingness to create Thing That Should Not Be, more questions kept coming. What about a coin?
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This one's my personal favorite of the bunch. Ambitious little creature.
What about a teardrop shaped crystal?
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This one is constantly on some type of mission and takes their role very seriously, regardless of what it is.
What about... a table?
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Living tables can't use magic. Still related to wizards, though. Like how a human and a dog are both mammals.
Ok, what about witches? How do you get a witch? Well, witches and wizards, while both magic users, are completely unrelated.
Witches are plants.
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I'm really happy with how the witch came out. That little stump on their heads never goes away, so the witches wear their hats to cover them. They also have to be regularly pruned. Even a big hat can't cover a whole tree.
Lastly, Knights Is Bugs.
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In the flood of questions I got from people on discord and in real life after Wizard Lifecycle, I was forced to come up with Wizard Facts.
Wizards come from enchanted crystal orbs. If you use the wizard egg enchantment on something that's not an orb, it fails... unless it's close to being an orb, in which case you get a wizard that's not quite... right. This is what Thing That Should Not Be is.
Wizards are a type of mage. There's other mages besides wizards, each with different crystal shapes you need and different enchantments required to make them. This is what the coin creature and teardrop creature are.
Living objects use the same crystal as mages do, but the crystal can be in any shape - the living object simply uses it as it is with minor modifications. Living objects are less intelligent than mages.
The first wizard came from an orb enchanted by a time traveling wizard. I refuse to examine the implications of this.
Mages are going extinct because the crystal used to make their orbs is perfect for making bowling balls.
Mages can't talk, but can make weird little noises. Each type of mage has their own way of communicating - Wizards use telepathy (usually communicating with images rather than words), coin creature writes down text, teardrop creature uses magic to parrot the speech of others, and thing that should not be can't communicate at all. Knights also can't talk, as they are bugs. Witches use magic to talk, and by adulthood are quite skilled at it. They're usually a bit quiet, but talk fluently and in their own voices.
Gods exist in this setting. There's gods for pretty much everything, from life and death to chairs and frying pans. Gods are mortal - each time a god dies, their godhood is passed to a random other mortal somewhere in the world. Godhood doesn't really give you any power, just the ability to randomly smite those doing sins against your domain.
Ok I think that's it thank you for reading bye :)
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monrosemeadows · 1 year
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It is a beautiful form of irony within the gaming scene, to see gamers complain about games and projects that are broken or unfinished upon release, while in the same breath, still partaking in pre-orders and continuing to support the developers through future purchases. We have definitely entered an era of gaming where developers rely solemnly on the swiss-cheese brain functions of their communities to be undeservingly forgiving and/or suffering from intentional amnesia. Where they know they can release beta and alpha-builds of their games, have you pay to test it, and then use your moaning on twitter as patch-notes for the future updates. Something that.... you know, the publishers definitely should pay said developers to do before release. By repeatedly forgiving them for doing so, by applauding 20 future patches, you are essentially enabling this behavor and in a sense, aplauding it. You are rewarding them for cutting corners, praising them for fixing things that shouldn't have been broken in the first place, and giving them the green light to do so, by buying more of their games, and possible DLC/mico-transactions etc.
The relationship betweend publishers and the gaming community, is very one sided. And gamers often think that the publisher and the developers are the same power, interchangable, and they're not. Rather than spending 6+ years on a game to ensure gamers receive a finished, optimized experience, publishers push for 4 years at best, with 1 year of continuous updates should they care, and should the game be profitable at best. If the game proves not to be, the plug will be pulled and games will be left to gather dust.
Ubisoft definitely spearheads this concept, where their games often look pretty and have flashy colors to distract you, distract you from the rushed development of said game, often resulting in broken game mechanics, bugs-a-plenty, and DLC/micro transactions up the ass—and it is these MTs that will determine how much they will invest into updates. Sometimes even attaching DLC that is overpriced and fails to improve the gaming experience—but most gamers will look past this. They will pretend it isn't an issue, or say 'Oh well, this is typical Ubisoft. That's how we know Ubisoft to be'. And then buy the sequel in hopes that one might be better, but it won't, because you just told Ubisoft 'it is ok to half-ass these games, because I will buy them regardless, and support this behavior. I am fine with being cheated out of my money, because I am stupid enough to believe they will get their shit together eventually.'
You have to break that cycle, because they won't. Publishers don't care about the community, they don't care about gamers as individuals, they only see numbers. And if these remain stable, or slightly increase every quarter, they will keep doing the same shit over and over. I rarely want to target developer studios, though, they aren't always without flaw either, but we all know sometimes evil needs a hand, and your soul has no value within that business. And I'm not knocking necessary patches for small issues on occasion, that much was, hopefully, evident. Ubisoft's Watchdogs Legion's addition of the online mode went live in a state that was barely functionable.
And had there ben QA testing, it wouldn't have been released in such a state. There was none, no testing of the builds, especially not for consoles, which definitely took the bigger hit in terms of optimization and performance. And I never saw it fit to applaud Ubisoft for eventually patching some of the bugs, while deliberately ignoring others that were equally present and game-breaking. Up to the point that the game saw such a decrease in activity, and a mountain of people bitching about the abhorent state of the online mode (which was its most successful feature by a long shot) —they eventually pulled the plug because fixing this game would prove to be too cost-expensive.. This is a problem. Had the publishers pushed the release date (which had already been pushed twice due to the corona pandemic), and released the game in an operable state, this wouldn't have been an issue. Gamers aren't monsters, and we are quite forgiving when it comes to delayed releases, because we know it will ensure a quality product when it eventually does release. But nowadays, we operate in a backwards motion. Broken games are released to increase sales, the developers take the reputational hit to the gut, publishers push for updates, which are also rushed, gamers lose their trust in the developers, the updates release, gamers are temporarily pleased and willing to forget, until the cycle repeats.
It is a sad state to be in, for either side. Imagine buying a car for full price, upon picking it up, at first glance, it seems to be in perfect, operable state. The paint shines, the leather interior smells as you expect it to—but once you start driving it home, you notice that there isn't a built-in radio, and it doesn't have blinkers. At times it swirves for no reason, the engine stutters and there are no windshieldwipers. Then, months later, the manufacturer rings your doorbell and tells you: hey there, here are the parts the initial build you bought was missing, BUT, if you're willing to pay a little extra, we'll add a USB port to the radio, and we'll add brakefluids, we'll also add some 4-season tires.. You wouldn't applaud that behavior, would you? And you surely wouldn't buy from said manufacturer again either.
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balkanradfem · 3 years
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The basics of growing food
So, growing food sounds very intimidating, and in reality, it's something people knew how to do thru all history, and it's made even easier by new methods of 'no till' and 'no dig' garden. I didn't know almost anything about it until 3 years ago, when I got a plot in a community garden and started growing food with no experience. Still it went good! Here's what I learned:
The basics are as simple as 'if you put a seed underground and keep it wet, it's going to come out.' If you start off from that, even if you know nothing else, eventually you will succeed. The additional stuff is done to ensure success. The biggest actual issue of gardening isn't how, but when. When are you supposed to put all the seeds underground to get good harvest? For most of the plants, it can be as simple as 'Spring'. For others, it's very important just when in the spring you plant it.
Let's say you want to start your first garden, you want to plant some onions, lettuce, peas, green beans, tomatoes, peppers and zucchini. All of these can be planted in the spring! But these plants are sorted in 2 categories: Those who can survive a frost, and those who cannot. We call these 'frost hardy' (those who survive the frost) and frost-tender (those plants will die if they're exposed to lower than 0 temperatures). From the ones I listed, onions, lettuce and peas are frost hardy! It means you can plant them very early in spring, such as February and March, and they can be hit with snow and ice and be just fine. They can also be planted in autumn, and they only really start growing in the spring.
Green beans, tomatoes, peppers, and zucchini are frost-tender, meaning you absolutely can't grow them before the chance of freezing temperatures is gone. This is known in gardening as 'the last frost date'. Every area has a different last-frost date, so it's good to google yours to be sure you're planting these when it's safe to do so. For me it's mid-April.
Now, since it's a long time to wait for your plants to grow if you've only planted the seeds in mid April, people have found a way around it by planting the seeds in little containers inside of their house, or in a greenhouse, so they grow in a nice warm place on a windowsill, and are moved out in the ground when it's warm and safe. This is a very fun thing to do as you will have bunch of little plants growing in your home. Important thing to know about it is to use really light and airy soil, not garden soil, (you can use forest soil!) and to make sure you're not over-watering them and you give them as much light as possible.
Soil is another big thing in gardening, the grass grows so easily from it, but you can't exactly plant your seeds into the grass; they will get suffocated. For a long time people have tilled the ground to make it empty of all the weeds and easy to handle; however this isn't healthy for the soil, because it ruins the quality of top-soil, exposes it to sun and wind erosion, and it dries up very easily. Here are some beneficial methods of gardening: mulching and no-dig. Mulching means adding stuff like hay, straw, tree leaves, woodchips, pine needles on top of the soil. You're protecting your soil from sun, wind, erosion, drying out, and if your mulch is thick and dark enough, no weeds will grow in your garden. You are gardening by science.
So what does this mean for you, when you're standing before a patch of grass, thinking of turning it into a garden? You need to do this months before the actual planting, using time to your benefit is the smartest thing a gardener can do. You pick a patch of land and bring in everything you can on top: cut grass, hay, tree leaves you raked or found, straw if you have any, woodchips, anything that will stop the grass from growing. If you really want to build up your soil you can bring in compost too! All that organic material will eventually turn into compost and fertilize your garden as it degrades to soil. It's important to not mix it with the soil, and to only keep it on top of the plants. Mixing it will deplete the soil of nitrogen, and you need nitrogen to grow anything green. If you keep bringing in organic material for years of gardening, and on top of that put some compost as well, in 3-5 years your soil will become so rich and soft you will no longer have to use tools to plant in it.
But, hey, if it's your first time, you don't need to aim for perfection. If you didn't prepare your soil in the fall, whatever! You can still pull the weeds, dig around a little to make some clear soil, and plant your stuff! I've done this last-minute planting and it works just fine. Mulching and adding organic material is only the easiest, most scienc-y way to garden.
The next big thing in gardening is spacing and depth: how far apart should your plants be? And how deep to plant them? For depth, the rule of the thumb is 'twice as deep as the seed is tall'. But I've seen people pull various shit in this area and succeed so do what you want. As of spacing, I would also say, try out what fits for you. It takes a year of gardening to get a sense of just how big the plants get, and what would be ideal spacing for each of them. I decided only on my third year to plant tomatoes VERY far apart, because I realized in this case, one plant will give me more than 8kg tomatoes and it's much less work than planting 3 times as many plants that are close together. Peas seem to like to grow close tho, for some reason. Sometimes you can decide you want a bunch of tiny plants because you'll eat them young, so you don't space them on purpose, people do that with lettuce, leeks, spinach. If you want your plants as big as possible with as much yield as possible, give them half a meter and see what happens.
Fertilization is another big thing in gardening; if you add a lot of compost and mulch your garden consistently, you won't need a lot more; however there's a cool free trick you can do (if you're not currently sick): you can mix your urine with 10x water, and water your plants with that. And I really mean mix it with 10x water! Plants can get very fried by it and start to wilt if they're bombed with too much fertilizer at once! There are rules for this: use it when you want your plants to grow a lot of greenery, not if you want them to flower or produce fruit. This fertilizer is rich in nitrogen, and nitrogen inspires plants to grow more leaves! If you wanna fertilize them later in their growth, put a lot of nettle plants in a big container with water, leave it in the sun for 10 days; when it starts to smell real bad, it's ready. (you can also do this with comfrey). Also dilute it with 10x water! Don't use these fertilizers on bean or pea plants, or any legume, they don't like it.
Now I've given you so much info at once, you're probably struggling to take it all in, so here's a good youtube channel where I learned all I know: Roots and Refuge. If you watch this lady garden for long enough, she will tell you all of the secrets.
I remember being a first time gardener overwhelmed with worry; what if I fail, what if nothing grows, what if I kill all the plants, what if I have a black thumb, what if the plants die because I am stupid, what if I put all of this work in and get nothing, what if people make fun of me, what if I run into problems I won't be able to solve. Here are some of the answers to these!
A part of what you grow will DEFINITELY DIE. I can guarantee it, it happens to everyone, every single garden in the world has had plants die, sometimes for no reason at all, but in no case will EVERYTHING die. We all count on a part of our plants dying, becoming slug food, not doing well in general, and we always plant 30% more than we absolutely need. Even if you are personally responsible for killing the plants, the plants will not hold it against you! Plants appreciate you spreading their seed regardless of success, they understand that by trying multiple times you will eventually succeed and they absolutely want you to learn thru occasional failure. The answer is again to plant a lot, and it never ever happened that nothing came out of it. Most often, it's not going to be your fault at all. Sometimes the year will be good for tomatoes and carrots, and bad for peas. It's all okay! Because you just planted extra peas, and you'll get more tomatoes than you expected to have.
If you have the desire to plant food, you do not have a black thumb; the green thumb is in the heart that yearns to grow. You're not stupid if your plants die, plants die for everyone. And people are likely to come at you with million advice; listen to no one, try everything yourself. If they make fun of you, they're gonna look real stupid when you have home-grown food. Any problem you might run into while gardening is google-able! Or you can join a page of gardeners and they'll be happy to identify the issue.
The real main issue with gardening are slugs and bug-type pests, and that is a problem for another day because all I know to do is to yeet those away by hand and shake my finger very sternly at them. Hope this helps!
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weirdmageddon · 3 years
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five years too late let’s analyze this. the commentary has gotten me back into gravity falls reigniting thoughts and insights i came to years ago
i love everything about this commentary in general it hits the points of humor, genuine analysis of the characters, but most of all im so glad hirsch addressed that the droid not detecting any fear from dipper here doesnt make any scientific sense because that was a massive CinemaSins moment for me
IDK the fact that dipper can fucking stand after an airship crash because theres a bigger threat at hand is literally one of the defining capabilities owed to adrenaline lol...... IM SORRY im a biopsychology student if i dont point that out iwill seethe and die because that was just . its a grudge ive held for a long time about this episode but didnt rant about because it was something so minor and i’m sure nobody would care.
i was 13 when this episode came out and i’m almost 19 now, i had a special interest in biology and i still do but now i’m actually having college classes in biopsychology so i can give my arguments more oomph now. and i have to say, now that i know more about the brain and autonomic nervous system the more this scene bugs me, if that was even possible. and it says a lot of dipper and ford’s relationship.
if dipper clearly wasnt calm before, why would he be now just because he’s put up an outwardly confident facade? before he was in the flight but now hes in the fight. my boy just rode on top of a spaceship by nothing but a magnet gun that could detach at any time if it failed and then the ship crashed, he sustained injuries, is in emotional turmoil because he thinks his uncle is Fucking Dead and the threat of a security droid that detects adrenaline is on his tail and produces a Big Fucking Gun in response to dipper saying “i hAvE a MaGNeT gUn” and hes screaming and has his teeth clenched but sure there’s no adrenaline coursing through his body in that moment i can totally believe that
when dipper asks what happened, ford says “the orb didn’t detect any chemical signs of fear, it assumed the threat was neutralized and self-disassembled” but i don’t think measuring someone’s heartbeat alone is particularly relevant in detecting ... chemical signs of fear?? they dont really tell you this shit but noradrenaline (and maybe adrenaline too if the acetylcholine from sympathetic outflow always activates the adrenal medulla??, theres two pathways) is always active in small quantities to make sure your parasympathetic nervous system doesnt slow your heart to dangerous levels on its own, regardless of your emotions. it’s just a homeostatic mechanism. your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are CONSTANTLY modulating control of your organs on a see-saw, literally with every breath you take. simply standing upright causes specialized mechanoreceptor neurons in blood vessels to signal your brain to project signals to release catecholamines via the sympathetic nervous system to constrict your blood vessels so that blood is able to reach your brain and not pool in your legs. i have a deficiency in my body’s ability to adapt to this which is why i know so much about it. if i stand up my heart races to compensate. i’m not feeling fear, my body is just adjusting—albeit grossly and incompetently lol.
but what im saying here is that the security system is flawed. it’s a cool idea to have security droids detect fear, but in practice by detecting adrenaline, and not even directly by detecting the molecule itself—it’s done in a roundabout way by reading the heartbeat, could be a recipe for false alarms. like what if someone’s on beta-blockers. that’s not really an adequate way to measure “fear”; there’s so many variables that could interfere with the measurement the farther you abstract from what you’re really trying to detect. and besides, adrenaline is NOT just a sign of fear, it’s just for preparing the body for action. i know the sympathetic nervous system and adrenaline is constantly linked with the “fight-or-flight” reaponse to a stressor, but 99.9% of the time the sympathetic nervous system is used in your life is to balance out your parasympathetic nervous system to maintain homeostatic equilibrium for mundane things.
i think detecting amygdalar activation would be more efficient in detecting fear. the amygdala sends projections to the hypothalamus which then in turn modulates the autonomic nervous systems. but the amygdala is intensely activated specifically in response to a fear-inducing stimulus (it does activate in response to other emotions but they’re mostly negative and is most activated by startle and fear), and wouldnt be highly activated by many other confounding variables like measurement of the heartbeat could be. the amygala is one of the first stops directly from external stimuli.
to show you how integrated the amygdala is as the first step in registering fear after receiving input from sensory stimuli let’s look at the auditory-amygdala connection for example
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see how the auditory thalamus projects to the primary auditory cortex and auditory association cortex? the cortex is where conscious awareness of what the stimuli is comes from. this is the “high road”. it goes sensing -> perception -> emotional response. but sometimes you can be startled without even processing what it is you’re sensing, like the startle response of an alarm or a phone ringing in a quiet house before you even register what it is. this goes sensing -> emotional response, without perception happening until after you’ve already felt the startle. that’s when it takes the “low road”. here’s a simplified version:
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even if that were the case with these droids though it’s obvious dipper is still fearful on some level here. his body language, voice, expressions all give it away. for the amygdala, aggression isnt too off from fear so it would be detected equally.
the reason this is so important is because ford uses this as evidence for why dipper is special, “i did it?” “you did it. this is what i was talking about, how many 12 year olds do you think are capable of doing what you’ve just done?”
but like....did he really? i’m not saying this to shoot dipper down or make him out to be more of a wuss, he was incredibly strong-willed here and i dont want to take that away from him because it WAS growth on his part. but the underlying psychophysiological reactions of aggression and fear shouldn’t be that different and this was a total asspull. maybe the droid was so old that it fucked up. maybe dipper being covered in grime and dirt made it harder for the droid to measure the correct heart rate through photoplethysmography (im assuming since they use a camera and are non-contact).
and in all honesty everything i just said brings into question the interpersonal healthiness of ford’s judgements, what he thinks, his expectations, and how he communicates that. in this video alex already talks about how ford is projecting onto dipper. and i think ford may be projecting his expectations for himself onto people who are not him, and the fact that it’s on dipper here makes it far more unfortunate. you realize how much this boy idolizes ford, right? how much impressions matter? dipper even tells himself before he leaves in this same episode, “all right dipper, this is your first big mission with great uncle ford. don’t mess this up.”
even though it’s unstated, the implicit message dipper is perceiving from ford based on their dynamic is: “do you have what it takes for me to be proud of you?” and to accomplish this he must be like ford, even though he’s clearly not and he knows this. he says “i don’t think have what it takes. i was tricked by bill, i was wrong about stan’s portal, heck, i can’t even operate this magnet gun right.” then, by simple chance without even knowing what he did, he activates the magnet gun and pulls out the adhesive, which immediately takes the focus away from what dipper was telling ford about his feelings of inadequacy to ford saying, “yes! dipper, you found the adhesive!”
these thoughts of dipper’s hang in the air without resolve or comment from ford. we don’t know what ford would have said. but it then becomes painfully self-evident in the scene immediately after when the droids emerge and ford tells dipper, “they’re security droids and they detect adrenaline. you simply have to not feel any fear and they won’t see you”, to which dipper replies with an exasperated (and rightful) “WHAT?”
dipper goes in a panic trying to indirectly tell his uncle that this isn’t something he can do. and he is completely right and valid to be freaked out by that full stop. that IS crazy. you can’t control your fear. you can control how you interpret that fear in your higher brain regions but the physiological changes will stick around for longer than it takes to cognitively calm down. it’s easy for me to detach from my emotions to analyze them, but being able to do this does not come naturally for everyone. even i have an irrational fear of wasps and i can’t control it by detaching myself, my body is just automatically primed to get the fuck out of there. i know it’s stupid and i know it’s irrational and isn’t helpful to get myself worked up but i literally can’t stop how my body reacts no matter how i cognitively think about it. expecting composure from dipper in a situation like this when he’s being made to consciously be aware of his anxiety is absolutely fucking insane. look what you did, placing these cruel expectations on him, now he’s afraid of being afraid! this isn’t a case where two wrongs cancel out, they just stack on top of each other.
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there’s a good reason these scenes were put side by side but it seems up until now it had remained unanalyzed.
what dipper fears from ford is disappointment. not living up to his uncle’s (quite frankly badly placed) expectations for a twelve year old with anxiety. not once did ford say or subliminally communicate “i don’t expect you to be able to do what i can since you are not as experienced as i am and that’s perfectly okay, no judgements”. you don’t put a child on bike before training wheels. you don’t throw a kid into a swimming pool without giving them swimming lessons. the way ford is doing it, there’s no room for trial and error or mistakes that are an opportunity to grow and learn; instead, it’s life or death. he only seems to pride dipper on what he can do while ignoring the underlying struggles that plague him and never making it known it’s okay for dipper to fail in front of his hero and that he won’t think anything less of him for it.
and that’s why i found the ending scene for dipper and ford’s adventure in this episode to feel so.. wrong. on a scientific and social level. because by the sound of it ford focused more on what dipper had done to dismantle the droid (the droid not detecting any fear) instead of how dipper displayed love and protection for him even if he was truly afraid. what if the science was accurate and the droid detected adrenaline while dipper was confidently standing up for his uncle. would ford still be proud of him regardless?
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warmhappycat · 2 years
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I guess what bugs me so much about the “you have to disclose your age to pRotEcT miNoRS!!!!!!” discourse is that it makes me feel villainized. My mere presence here isn’t a threat to children. (Children who aren’t even supposed to be on this 17+ website, but whatever.) The internet as you know it wouldn’t exist without people my age and up. We built fandom spaces. We built online communities. Everything you love about this site was pioneered by someone older than you. We built this house, and you’re gonna just climb in through a window and call us predators!? We were just sitting here! If you don’t want my company, then get out of my living room!
You do know an actual predator will lie to you, right? You do know that just because someone is capable of typing a number that’s less than 18 doesn’t mean they’re actually another child, nor that it’s necessarily safe to tell them things, right?
Well, I guess that actually brings me to another thing I hate about the age discourse: I don’t think requiring people to disclose their age (or whatever number they care to type) actually makes the Internet any safer! Besides the fact that predators will just lie, I worry that kids assume other kids are always safe to talk to and that adults are always unsafe to talk to. No! Most adults are not abusers or creeps, but many abusers and creeps get started before they reach adulthood! The truth is you have to exercise caution and good judgment in all your online interactions regardless of how old (you think) the other person is. I think it’s dangerous for kids to get it anywhere in their head that they can offload any of that responsibility onto others. You can’t, and if you’re not ready for it, then you’re not ready to be online unsupervised.
And to other adults: please stop buying into this nonsense! If you seek out children to talk to, that’s kind of weird. If you act inappropriately around someone you know is underage, that’s bad. But the problem in both those scenarios is the intentionality: you chose to interact with kids in a problematic way. You are absolutely entitled to act like an adult in an adult space, which tumblr is. These kids had to lie about their age to get on. A child making bad decisions in your general vicinity while you’re just minding your own business and doing your own thing is not your fault and not your responsibility!!!!! When the opportunity/obligation falls in your lap to set a kid straight who’s getting in over their head, I do think you should do that. I think, just as part of the basic social contract, that all adults in a community should be more proactive in intervening to help a kid than they would be for another adult. However, tumblr is a depersonalized space where people tend to interact more as amorphous digital blobs than as embodied human beings, and you are not under any obligation to give that up just in case some other adult has failed in their duty to supervise and/or educate their kids on the Internet.
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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years
Text
Like a Moth to a Flame- Pt. 2
It’s been way too long since I’ve been motivated to work on this piece. But at last… at long last… part two is ready for takeoff! Once again I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for inspiring this piece of monster fuckery (even though there’s no fuckery in this story… yet).
Enjoy!
Part 1
•••••
You become more distracted and nervous than usual over the next week or so. The slightest sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you keep making careless mistakes at work. Even your boss checks in with you to make sure you aren’t sick or losing your grip on reality. You assure him everything is fine and blame your poor performance and skittish nature on a made-up relative’s failing health. In truth, you can’t go for more than a few minutes without thinking about the blonde beast, his beautiful yet terrifying presence seeming to loom over you wherever you go. But you don’t dare tell any of your friends or coworkers about what you saw.
Who would believe you? At best, they’d think you were telling a bad joke and at worst they’d try to cart you off to the nearest mental hospital. So you keep your thoughts private, suffering in silence and staying up late to research who or what you saw that night.
And it's during one of your late-night Internet searches that you stumble across a forum dedicated to winged, humanoid creatures known as “mothmen.” 
While the stories mainly originate from the Eastern United States, there have also been purported sightings as far as Japan. And though details may have varied slightly, the key features of the monsters always remain the same: massive height, glowing eyes, and of course the moth-like wings. You’d spent hours poring over your laptop that night, reading the information and accounts posted by other “mothman survivors.” Some stories were rather nice. One woman claimed the mothman she encountered was gentle, bordering on intelligent. She wrote about the gifts and trinkets it brought from time to time and it’s attempts at communication. But the majority were horrifying, with several people posting tales of the beasts attacking without provocation, leaving them injured and afraid. Someone even posted a picture of the deeply scarred claw marks on his chest and arms, claiming them to be the work of a particularly savage mothman. Regardless of their validity, one thing was for sure: the mothmen were unpredictable.
By the end of the second week, you’ve grown so desperate to stop the near constant waking nightmares that you decide to take a proactive approach to the matter. It’s a simple plan: set a trap, wait for the monster to reappear, and collect photo evidence. Even if it’s only to soothe your own self-doubts, you need to have definitive proof of its– of his existence.
On Friday night, you come home late from work, so late the sun has just barely set over the horizon. After a hot shower and a quick meal of instant noodles, you grab a shallow bowl from the cupboard and fill it with lukewarm water. One of the contributors to the website claimed that mothmen like sugar water, much like the insects they resemble. Another had proposed they might even enjoy the taste of cloth or fiber, but you weren’t about to sacrifice one of your favorite sweaters on a wild hunch.
You spoon in a generous amount of sugar into the bowl, mixing well to create a saccharine slurry before heading for the farthest living room window. Unlike the one you’d spotted the mothman from, this one is partially obscured by a rickety fire escape, the metal encrusted with decades worth of rust and snaking up the side of the building. Opening the window and leaning out of it, you place the dish of bait on one of the steps before hauling yourself back inside. You shut the window and settle yourself on the couch, a blanket and book in your lap and your phone’s camera at the ready. Hours tick by, the waning moon slowly creeping by in the night sky as you hold your silent vigil. As you wait in suffocating silence, you start to feel foolish and begin to think your “mothman” might have been nothing more than a product of an overactive imagination and one too many late nights in the office. Even with all your research, all you had to go by was a few wild stories posted by Internet strangers and a missing frying pan. You finally nod off around two in the morning, unable to keep your heavy eyelids open.
•••
WHAM!
A noise from outside jolts you awake from your spot on the couch, followed by the sound of creaking, groaning metal. The whole apartment seems to shake and an unearthly screech accompanies the final creak as you hear the fire escape give way before clattering into the alleyway. Other tenants on all floors start opening their windows and doors, shouting and swearing about the noise and the landlord “not keeping this shithole up to code.” It’s utter chaos for a few minutes and then silence falls once more, your neighbors still grumbling as they retreat back into their homes. You scramble off the couch and to the window, gazing into the alley for any sign of life. The moon isn’t as bright as last time, but you can just barely make out the mangled remains of the fire escape and the faintest glimpse of gold. Throwing caution to the wind, you grab a well-worn hoodie, your phone, and the kitchen knife. You make your way down the three flights of stairs to the alley door, opening it cautiously should you encounter an angry cryptid on the other side. But there’s no one there, so you take a deep breath and head out into the apocalyptic looking alley. Metal is strewn everywhere, with part of the railing still clinging to the side of the building like a deranged centipede. Snapped metal bars jut out at odd angles, creating a maze of twisted, rusty spikes and sharp edges. You slowly pick your way over and around the wreckage, using your phone’s flashlight as a guide so you don’t end up tripping and accidentally impaling yourself.
“Hello?” You call into the darkness, “Mothman? A-are you there?”
Your call is rewarded with a shuddering groan and the sounds of scraping metal. You shine your light on the biggest tangle of steel, watching as something large moves underneath it. The pile of metal shifts upwards and falls away, while a large, dark figure rises from the shadows. They’re silhouetted against the dim moonlight but just as intimidating as before, hunching over as the appendages on their back shake and rustle. You turn the flashlight on and find yourself looking into a familiar pair of glassy, blue eyes. The mothman stares back at you, folding his wings against his back and cocking his handsome head from side to side.
“You- you’re real.” You breathe, feeling your heart jump into your throat as you surreptitiously pull up your phone’s camera. The monster chitters in response as he sniffs at the air, stepping over a piece of rusted debris to get closer to you. You quickly snap and picture... and the alley is suddenly lit up with blinding light.
You’d forgotten to turn off the flash!
The mothman blinks in response and lets out a groan, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. You drop your phone and crouch down, knife forgotten as you cover your head with your hands and prepare for him to lash out. But no claws come to tear at your flesh nor are there any angry roars or shrieks. Instead the beast starts to emit low, rumbling noise, like a growl but far less sinister. You hear metal being dragged across the concrete followed by the sound of heavy footfalls. You cautiously open one eye to see a pair of clawed feet and muscular calves, only to squeak in alarm when his face abruptly appears in your field of vision. You fall backwards in surprise, landing heavily on your rump while the mothman squats mere inches from you. His eyes are fixed on the ground, gently running his nails over the now cracked screen of your upturned phone. Even in the dim lighting you can see his curious, wide-eyed expression and it suddenly dawns on you what that noise he’s making is: he’s purring. Or near enough to it.
“W-What do you want?”
The monster looks up when you speak, cocking his head slightly before turning back to paw at the phone once more. He’s more insistent this time, his swipes becoming bolder as the phone scratches across the concrete. He gives the device a few well-placed taps before making eye contact once more, his brow furrowed as he briefly switches from purring to a chittering cry. With a gulp, you gingerly set down the blade, reach across your body and flip the phone over, the still lit flashlight illuminating the alley once more. The beast’s eye’s blow even wider, enchanted by the light shining upwards into the starry sky. You sit in silence for a few seconds, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and the guttural purrs coming from the mesmerized mothman. As your heart rate slows, you begin to notice more intimate details about the creature before you.
For one, his wings are covered in the same fur that rings his neck and, though it’s shorter and more fine, they look just as soft.
Second, he’s incredibly warm. A steady heat rolls off his body in waves that seem a stark contrast to what one might expect from a bug-centric cryptid.
But most noticeable of all is his smell.
It’s not a bad smell by any means; in fact, it’s downright pleasant. The odor is a cross between lemonade and petrichor, a soothing blend of sweet citrus and earthy musk. You find yourself unconsciously breathing more through your nose, feeling lightheaded as his scent floods your senses and making you relax into the cold pavement. As your eyes lazily drift over his naked form you see he’s holding something in his other hand, protectively clutching it against his chest. You tilt your head to get a better view, the subtle movement getting the monster’s attention and causing him to drag his eyes away from the light and focus on you again.
“What’s that?” You ask softly, almost dreamily, and point to his chest. The mothman’s eyes follow your finger down to his right hand, pulling it away to reveal your (still remarkably intact) bowl. It’s largely empty of its contents, but some of the sugar water has stuck to his fur and cooled into sweet, matted clumps. He squeaks at the sight of it, almost like he’d forgotten about the bait and dives into it to eagerly lap at the ceramic bottom. When it fails to yield anything substantial he huffs and turns his attention to his dirtied mane. He dips his head as a long, pink tongue slithers out of his mouth and curls around the largest tangle, laving over the sugar-crusted mat before quickly retreating. He chitters in satisfaction at the taste, barely glancing up at you before diving back down for more.
“So you do like sugar.” You mutter under your breath, a small chuckle bubbling up in your chest on the exhale. The mothman pays you no mind, too engrossed in his work to notice how you shift your body into a more comfortable sitting position to watch. After a few minutes, the creature stops licking at himself and looks back up at you, eyes still wide and expression almost curious as he cocks his head to the side once more. Tentatively shifting his weight forward, he extends the empty bowl to you.
“I don’t have any more.” You whisper softly, confused yet intrigued by his gentle actions. The mothman grunts and takes another shuffling step, hand still outstretched and his brow softly furrowing. He seems insistent, almost annoyed that you won’t accept his generous offer. Not wanting to anger him, you gingerly extend your own right hand, pinching the rim of the bowl between thumb and forefinger before carefully pulling it from his grip. Holding the bowl against your own chest, you take a stab at what he wants from you and raise the ceramic dish to your lips to give a noisy, pretend slurp. You feel like an adult humoring a child in a game of “tea party,” offering him a cheesy smile and an “mmm” of satisfaction as you pull the empty bowl away from your face. The creature’s own face splits in a too-wide grin, wings flapping excitedly and chittering happily at your display. A quiet gasp is ripped from you throat as you finally get a good look at his teeth.
They’re practically perfect; two rows of pearly white, blunted incisors frames by sharpened, too-long canines on either end. And the smile he’s giving you is nothing short of exuberant, beaming like a drop of sunshine made incarnate. You find yourself returning his smile with a genuine one of your own, amazingly unafraid in the face of this otherwise inhuman beast. But your relief is short-lived as the monster suddenly shifts onto his knees and bounds towards you on all fours.
“Woah, woah, woah!” You squeak, scrabbling backwards and nearly skewering yourself on a jagged piece of wreckage in an attempt to get away. “Take it easy! Down, boy!”
The mothman stops with his face mere inches from yours, clawed hands planted on either side of your hips and still grinning from ear to ear. Carefully, he lowers his golden head to rest against your left shoulder, nuzzling into the sensitive flesh and purring softly in your ear. It’s an act of unbelievable tenderness, of affection, and it stirs something deep within your jackhammering heart. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you relinquish your hold on the empty bowl and raise your right hand to his head, gently placing it against his temple. At the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the creature freezes for a second and you suck in a quick breath, prepared to pay the price for your boldness. But simply leans further into your touch, closing his eyes contentedly and pushing against your palm like an obedient pet as his purring reaches a fever pitch.
“Good… good boy.” You exhale slowly, thumb brushing across the apple of his surprisingly warm cheek. “That’s a good boy.”
You stay locked together for what feels like ages, the only sounds your own heavy breathing and the monster’s soft purrs of pleasure as you stroke him. Finally you finds your voice again and you softly stammer out, “Do you– do you have a name?”
His eyes open slightly at your question, briefly raising his head with a small chirp. Removing your hand from his face, you splay your palm across your chest and give it two quick pats.
“Y/N.” You say slowly, enunciating each syllable, “I’m Y/N.”
The creature cocks his head for a second and pulls away from you to get into a kneeling position. You pat your chest and repeat yourself once more. The mothman then takes one of his own massive paws and places it on his own chest, mirroring your movements.
“M-Mir…” He chokes out, voice raspy but surprisingly human, like he hasn’t used it in a long time. “Mir… io. Mirio.”
“Mirio?”
Hearing his name fall from your lips elicits another bright smile from the mothman, wings giving a single flap as he curls his hand into a fist atop his sternum.
“Mirio!” He says more boldly, giving his chest two hearty thumps for emphasis.
“Mirio.” You repeat softly, “That’s a nice name.”
His eyes soften at your words, almost as if he understood the compliment. He opens his mouth once more, but before he can speak, a new voice cuts through the night air.
“Hey! What’s going on over there?”
You whip your head towards the source of the noise, moments before you feel a rush of cold air accompanied by a sharp hiss. Someone is picking their way through the wreckage to your location, their own flashlight sweeping over the heaps of rusted metal until it lands on your startled face. Squinting into the light, you can barely make out the silhouette of a man and you feel a bolt of panic shoot through you. You turn back to face Mirio only to find him gone.
“Mirio?” You speak into the darkness, as if uttering the word might make him reappear. But there’s only empty space and silence, punctuated by the heavy footfalls of the stranger coming ever closer to you. It’s only when he’s within a few feet that you can make out the telltale flash of gold on his chest: an officer’s badge.
“Are you alright?” The man asks of you, still shining the flashlight directly into your face. “Are you hurt?”
“Huh? Oh! Yes. I’m fine, sir.”
“Are you sure?” The officer asks quizzically, extending a hand for you to take. You graciously accept his offer, retrieving the forgotten bowl and phone from the concrete with your free hand before hauling yourself back onto your feet.
“Y-yes I’m sure.” You stammer out, “I just, uh… I heard a noise outside my apartment and came to investigate.”
“Awfully late to be investigating strange noises in an alley.” He says incredulously, cocking one eyebrow and shining his light over the ruined fire escape at his feet for emphasis. “Especially in this part of town.”
His light catches on something glinting at your feet and your eyes follow it to land on the forgotten kitchen knife on the ground. His own eyes snap back to you and narrow suspiciously, free hand slowly moving towards the holster resting against his hip.
“Are you alone out here?”
“Yes, sir!” You squeak back automatically, “I swear it’s just me. I live in this apartment complex.”
You gesture to the brick-fronted side of the building to your right as proof of your innocence, praying to all the powers that be that he buys your story. The officer narrows his eyes at you, muttering a quiet, “Huh. Could’ve sworn I saw someone…” before clearing his throat and straightening his posture.
“Well in any case, you should probably head inside now, miss. There have been reports of criminal activity in the area as of late and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt. What with all this rusty metal lying around.”
“Yeah, no use getting a tetanus shot over nothing!” You say jokingly, giving a nervous chuckle as the officer nods solemnly. You don’t dare go to pick up the knife, deciding it’s better to lose another kitchen utensil than land yourself in any more hot water. With a few more parting words, and a declined offer to let him walk you back home, you quickly skirt around the remains of the fire escape and into the safety of the stairwell door. Your mind and heart are racing as you plod up the stairs to the third floor, buzzing with questions without answers as you finally enter and lock the door to your one-bedroom sanctuary. Exhaling a breath you don’t know you were holding, you walk silent over to the living room windows and cast a final glance into the alleyway below. You can see the officer’s flashlight bobbing along as he makes his way around the scattered remains of the fire escape, only to switch off once he reaches the end of the alleyway and resumes his patrol of the neighborhood. But you still wait by the window for a few more minutes, wondering (and perhaps hoping) if you’d catch a final glimpse of flaxen hair or hear the steady beat of wings.
Silence reigns above all, the soft glow of the moon your only companion now.
With a heavy sigh, you peel your eyes away from the wreckage and plod off to your bedroom, stripping off your hoodie and sweatpants as you go. Curling up under the covers, you grab the pillow closest to you and hug it to your chest. If you close your eyes, you can almost believe you can still feel the warmth of his face on your neck, or smell the aroma of him lingering on your skin.
“I hope you’re alright… Mirio.”
47 notes · View notes
yami-writes · 4 years
Text
MHA boys with tiktok accounts
(🏷️) paring(s): Midoriya x reader, Kaminari x reader, Todoroki x reader (🔮) summary: Midoriya, Kaminari, and todoroki with Tiktok accounts (hcs) (⚠️) warning(s): just crack n fluff here (💌) note from Yami: inspired by a request I got the other day (check it out here) (hey yall, made this at 3am dont mind me. jus vibin)
~*~*~*~*
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Midoriya
i think he would enjoy tiktok
you introduced him to it
and he thought it was cool so he decided to stay for the ride
His fyp is filled to the brim with all might.
Just all might.
Occasionally some other heroes
But mainly all might ✋
He WANTS to only follow you
But he's a pushover and too nice for his own good and ended up following everyone in class
Poor bby
If he ever does decide to post, it will have something to do with heroes
Probably just recording all of his all might merch
And occasional small vlogs of what it's like at ua
Or in the dorms
And there pretty fun to watch and get a lot of love
And of course people will demand more
And, like I said, he physically can't say no
So he does more
which never fail to get under 1.5mil veiws
he’s well known in the tiktok community~~
HE WILL COMMENT NICE THINGS ON EVERY. SINGLE. VIDEO. YOU. POST.
no exceptions.
A small dance video??
"angel, your so good at dancing!!! Plz teach me someday!! I wanna be in one of your tiktoks!! :)"
precious!!
or perhaps some sort of aesthetic video
“wow! this tiktok is so pretty! just like you, angel <3(a tiktok could never compare to you)″
ahhhhhhhhhh IZUUU
you always screenshot the comment and send it to him with your response
and u could see him blushing behind the screen
if u do decide to allow him to dance in one of your tiktoks, hes so happy
like, incredibly happy
as if All Might himself walked into the room
his face will light up like a PUPPY
ok i’ll stop.
after mina’s many lessons she was able to teach him to dance pretty well
now all you had to do was teach him the dance 
and it turned out really good
ill leave the dance and the overall quality of said tiktok up to u 😌
use ur imaginations loves~~
but regardless~
the tiktok yall made 
blew. tf. up.
the comments were full of
“OMG YOU GUYS R SO CUTEE 😍”
and
“PLZ DO MOREE!!!!”
probably the most popular video you have tbh~
and you bet ur ass when midoriya found out he was gonna do another one
GOD- 
you swear his smile could make a bitch go blind~
Follower count: 5.3mil & counting
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Kaminari
i know for a FACT this bitch has tiktok
i also know he is a tiktok MASTER
he knows all the trends
and the memes
and is also quite well known
his fyp definitely has A LOT of memes
and trendy stuff
and he only posts trendy stuff
the includes dances, challenges, pranks..... PRANKS.
a lot of pranks from this man....
and you, dear, are one of his main victims
along with the rest of the bakusquad
and its annoying asf bc this idiot is wasting his damn brain space that he apparently has??? to plan out a PERFECT prank
and it works EVER. SINGLE. TIME.
there is no escaping him,
and its even worst bc these pranks of his are his most popular posts
by this point there is no stoppping him.
and dont even bother trying to get him back
he can literally sense a prank
like a second quirk or sumn-
rip 💀
he will SPAMM your comments
“FGUYJGYHUK”
“GO OFFFF”
“dat ass tho 👀👀”
“u really went: 🍰🍰“
“just suffocate me with your thighs already, boo!! 😭🥺”
lmafoooo 
you cant even be bothered to reply to any of his thirsty comments
which are always the first ones you recive...
and are always top comments
rip💀
now,lemme get this straight.
he will BEG
like- on his hands and knees beg
the be in one of ur tiktoks
specifically, a dance
even more specifically, a dance thats more on the~~ scandalous side
you know what i mean sis
rolls, hair whips, throwin it back, all the shit
hell- you have NO idea how much he would love to just be in the presence of you throwin him back sum ass 
damn
once you finally give in and do a tiktok with him
and he wants to pick the dance
obviously
yall prob did a doja cat song cant lie lmafo
“Candy” perhaps??
anyways, he’ll probably mess up on purpose just so u can throw it to em again
but once he’s had enough he’ll do it properly
after about 12 attempts that is-
but dont worry cause that video got LOVE
“THIS IS SO CUTE😍”
“PLZ DANCE TOGETHER MOREEE❤️💗“
and you know denki is gonna see this
you also know he, along with ur comments, also want more
good luck, dear...
follower count: 8.1mil & counting
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Todoroki
you showed him tiktok
and he watched you in your dorm making some
and he wanted to try so you helped him make an acc
ofc the first thing he does is follow you and watch some all of ur videos
every single one, sis.
i think his fyp would be full of cooking tutorials
specifically, soba
he tries, he really does.
he still cont cook with out burning something, but there IS improvment
and he would post the most random shit
literally anything
a small bug he saw on his way to school?
filmed and posted.
and that shit gets VIEWS
how you ask??
good question dearie
lets just say Mr. Shouto Todoroki is HOT
in all aspects, no exeptions
people can and will watch his tiktoks just to see him
and better bet ur ass his comments are full of thirsty girls
but thats offtopic.
he also has small videos he recored of you
whether it was you singing or dancing
doing you makeup brushing your hair
dosent matter.
he’ll have a BUNCH in his drafts he likes to scroll through daily
he never told anyone, not even you
👀👀
he dosent comment on all ur posts but he does comment on some of them
only some
specifically, the ones he likes
i mean~ he likes all of them, but if he favors a specific one over the rest, he’ll let you know
“wow, y/n. i like this video more than your others. i guess thats why im commenting. anyways, i love the tiktok, but i love you more.”
he sooooo dryyyyyy
like put a heart at least man
ANYWAYS
he usually lurks in the comments, making sure everyone is staying their place
like a security guard lmao
he’ll privately message you his thoughts on your tiktok
it’ll be a long message with a mix of compliments but also questions
“i liked the song, but whats the song called? 
“how did you make that? I really liked it though.”
dry, but pure.
i dont think he would have much interest in  being in one of your tiktoks
BUT
if you want him in one of your tiktoks
he’ll offer to stand in the background.....
then you explain to him you want him to /participate/ in the tiktok
if you want him to do a dance with you
goodluck
this man is STIFF
every move you teach him is another jab at your soul
painful
if you gather up the courage to allow him to be in the tiktok
he’ll just-
leave
as in, walk out of the room leave
...what???
he’ll come back later and act as if nothing happened
and if u question him
“i lost interest.” 
yea, like a fucking child
the damn tiktok barley even started-
follower count: 10.9mil & counting
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Masterlist
331 notes · View notes
altamaranempire · 3 years
Text
creatures modding stuff part??: miscellaneous add ons
There are lots of little bits and pieces of art that I made for the modding community of creatures 3 and docking station, here’s a few that actually made it into small stand alone mod items!
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This one is one of the very first thing I ever contributed from around 2012: A large tree themed around the botany works of a fictional character of mine. The original image is actually a heavily edited scan of pictures made in coloured ballpoint pen! When this was coded into the game by another individual, it ended up really showing the size limitation of the game’s areas: As it is currently, this tree is simply too big for many growing spaces in c3 or docking station, and has a bit of a habit of clipping out of bounds! That said, since it’s been many, MANY years since I or the coder were in that community, I’m willing to say that every art piece of mine that was coded into an item by that particular person had some uh, quirks. c; They also for some reason wrote a dedication to their then-boyfriend into the file for this plant, which is definitely something considering what happened sometime later. More art and writing under the readmore!
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Another example of differences in coder and artist preferences is this sprite set: Intended to be a companion an aquatic plant is this set of goldfish. Clicking on the ceramic fish vends little eggs that can hatch into one of three varieties of goldfish, who grow by eating in-game plant seeds. I very distinctly recall having a surprisingly heated argument with the aforementioned coder of this item, who insisted that the ceramic fish produce a very loud cartoon ‘burp’ when interacted with. It took a very long time to dissuade them from doing this, and a lot of insistence that making it jarringly comedic would clash with the related items in the set, as well as feeling rather demeaning considering that this mod required over a hundred hand-drawn sprite images I was rather proud of. Another curious thing of note is that the third growth stage of each type of fish for some reason just doesn’t work in-game, due to some kind of coding issue, so nobody ever got to see their largest most polished sprite sheets.
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The companion to these goldfish is actually this little aquatic plant! One of my favorite plants is an amazonian fresh water species that goes by a lot of different names based on country and scientific debate. Sometimes it’s called elodea, or egeria, or anacharis, or densa, or combinations of the above! All you need to know is that it’s an invasive weed in some countries and that it photosynthesises so fast it can be seen visibly bubbling on a sunny day! The coding for this one ended up sadly a little strange as well, launching the seeds produced by the plant through walls, floors, ceilings and sometimes out of bounds, making it hard to keep alive. It makes me vaguely consider if I could somehow figure out how to edit it myself.
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Mercifully written by someone else, this set of sprites is for an item that seeds the nearby ground with moss. It comes in four varieties, three of which require soil and nutrients to grow, and one labelled ‘aggressive moss’ that would simply grow a layer of generic moss regardless of the in-game environment. This was made as a failsafe for when 3rd part areas (or sometimes even bugged or overlooked areas of the main game) simply fail to provide data for supporting plantlife... Making sure at least something grew would provide in-game creatures with much needed food.
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Also here’s a fun thing to find- a very early prototype of the above moss planting machine!
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Actually, these might be the first thing I ever contributed, but I can’t say for sure. These are so old that I don’t actually have the sprites in their original non-game-engine-specific filetype. When in game, these candles have a flickering ‘lit’ state, and an unlit one. They produce in game ‘scents’ that attract different lifeforms based on their genetic coding and body chemistry, and were designed to alleviate community/gameplay issues with keeping creatures in areas they weren’t native to.
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passable-talent · 4 years
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Can I request some headcannons? Like how would Zuko be like with shy, bright,&kind hearted female s/o? If you don’t do hcs that’s alright
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-so Zuko has done the quiet shtick, he knows how it is
-so he doesn’t force you to ‘come out of your shell’, or ‘be more social’
-in fact, he does practically the opposite, making plenty of time for you to be alone, whether it meant totally alone, or alone with him.
-he acknowledges that it takes you longer to get to know people, and plans for it
-he’ll give multiple quick meetings with a new person that slowly stretch out, because he wants to make things easier for you
-he doesn’t require you to attend dinners or parties, regardless of how much he’d love to have you on his arm
-but he always asks, because he wants you to come. Usually, you attend for the beginning of the party, and disappear quickly.
-he doesn’t mind, because he knows that you’ll be keeping yourself busy until he can return to your side.
-he constantly checks in, making sure that you’re not feeling overwhelmed
-and his understanding of your facial expressions and body language is ridiculous. apparently he took your silence as a challenge to pick up on every other sort of communication you use
-he always checks up because he values your opinion.
-he’d discuss anything with you, knowing that you’d weigh all the options.
-usually, you could find some solution to a problem that he couldn’t find because of his stubbornness.
-you were an asset in that respect, not just to the fire nation, but to him. he’d talk and you would listen, and your solutions would ease his mind so that he could get a good night’s rest.
-some meetings he did ask that you attend, not because he wanted you to meet someone, but because he wanted you to know all the facts first hand. It was in those meetings that you left your shyness behind in favor of learning, and reacting.
-he celebrated your accomplishments, genuinely. it wasn’t that he was pandering, but that he loves you and supports everything you do
-“especially when you’re so brilliant, how can I not?”
-he boasts about you when he thinks you’re out of earshot. “they’re so smart, I don’t know what I would do without them”
-he doesn’t let himself get too insecure about how smart and quick you are, because he knew that he didn’t have to let himself do everything. He could trust you to be brighter than he was.
-and not only were you smart, but you also kept the people in mind.
-it reminded him of his mother, he supposed, the way you were kind to everyone.
-even the servants loved you, and it bought him favor among the people that you were so philanthropic.
-he didn’t care about that, though, just the way that you smiled when you told a servant not to panic about a mess they’d made brought a grin to his lips.
-he was all about righting injustice, and you were all about stopping it before it happened. he loved that about you.
-your kindness applied to everything, even the bugs that got into the palace
-even the angry prince-turned-sovereign with a burn on his face.
-he glowed under your touch, the way you handled him so gently, and it never failed to make him smile
-when he was angry or frustrated, it was your kindness that would calm him down, make his simmering cool
-he loved so much about you, and knew that that would never change.
-he loved your kindness, your intelligence, your reservation when necessary but ferocity in the face of injustice.
-he loved everything about you that you dared show him. and everything else, too.
-🦌 Roe
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arahul-abyssia · 3 years
Text
To Mend What's Been Broken
And thus is my third story for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern 's Nintember celebration! (Coming a day late because of Various Reasons.) I have written about Emotions! Again! So we're three for three on that front! I have also accidentally mirrored Me-From-One-Year-Ago and once again made Story 3 only a bit shorter than the combined lengths of Stories 1 and 2.
Also, this story is very much a direct sequel to one of the stories from last year, specifically the only one I haven't mentioned in this post yet. This one should be >83% understandable if you haven't read part 1, but still, here's a link to it! (Please let me know if the link doesn't work, I know Tumblr tends to hate links.)
~~ Craft, Bug, Beach, Anger, Family ~~
Rynn looked to the sky, the noonday sun shining down upon the beach. It was far warmer in the coastal Lurelin Village than he was used to back in his mountainous home, and the still-smoldering charcoal from the previous night’s bonfire was not helping matters. Fortunately, he would soon be headed far away from the blazing warmth of the sands; unfortunately, however…
“Well, Rynn! You’re looking much better than yesterday; is your wing fully healed, are you ready to fly back?”
Rynn did not turn to look at his father. “Doctor Faldea examined me earlier, says the healing potion took effect and my wing is ‘good as new’. But--”
“Excellent! Then as soon as Director Nokoss finishes up the communications with the Lab, we’ll take off!”
His father had interjected as soon as he heard what he wanted, and cut him off. Again. This had a tendency to happen whenever he had his mind made up about something, and Rynn felt like he did so even more when the topic of flight, specifically of Rynn finally taking flight, came up.
Though both of them never said it, he could feel a level of disappointment from them, disappointment in him for failing his Trial of Flight the previous day, as if they had expected him to avoid a storm that came out of nowhere or a large Sheikah device hurtling directly toward him. They acknowledged those were unforeseen circumstances, but yet, he still felt like they blamed part of the failure on him.
“Alright, I just finished the meeting with the Hateno Tech Lab.” Both Rynn and his father turned toward the flight director, who seemed to have come from the center of the village and was wearing a very clear look of annoyance, little though the difference was from his usual expression. “To make a long story short, they thought their airborne Weather Formation Machines consistently hovered far above Rito flight height and will look into what went wrong. Somehow, they didn’t consider communicating with us about what regions to keep clear on certain days, but I will be kept in the loop going forward. Regardless, they aren’t experimenting in Faron today or in the near future, so we should have no trouble getting back or setting a new date for the trial.”
“Well, that’s all good to hear! Wouldn’t you agree, Rynn?” His father had turned to look at him, but Rynn had lost himself in thought, doubt, and fear again, and he had to say his son’s name several times more before he was shaken back to attention.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, that’s great, I guess…”
“Right… I’ve programmed the Updraft Device to send all three of us high enough to catch the winds back over the jungle. If you both are ready, I’d like to head back as soon as possible.”
Rynn’s father gave a nod, which the flight director seemed to take as confirmation from them both, and motioned for them to take certain positions as he brought out the same angular Sheikah device from the day prior and began fiddling with it. Rynn, however, was hardly paying attention, once more dreading having to fly. When he was with others, it was easier to focus on things that weren’t the void he was staring in the face, but after the disastrous events of the previous day, the prospect was even more frightening than usual. Yet, he knew that nothing he could do or say would convince either of them to find an alternate way home, so he instead attempted to swallow the fear and prepare to take wing.
“On my mark. Three… Two… One… Fly.”
Director Nokoss activated the device, creating a massive updraft beneath the talons of all three Rito, which quickly caught their wings and brought them far above the land. It was all Rynn could do to focus on the forms of his father and director instead of anything and everything else, as they adjusted to follow a westward--and quite rapid--wind and thus began the journey back toward Whistling Hill.
The last rays of sunlight were fading as they reached their destination, though the stable lights seemed to be shining even brighter than usual. In tandem, Rynn’s father and the trial director adjusted and descended, and Rynn followed suit as best he could. The flight had taken a toll on his nerves, further throwing off his balance, and as the other two Rito made graceful landings upon the hill’s peak, he came in too fast, failed to catch the grass properly, and stumbled briefly with the momentum before falling onto his face. Though the ground was dry, it reminded him all too much of how he woke up after falling from his trial the day prior.
“Hm. Your landing could use some work. Remember: lead with your talons, not your torso.” Director Nokoss remarked.
“...Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind…” Rynn mumbled through gritted teeth. Comments about his flying and anything related to it were just about the last thing he needed at that moment.
“Well, now that we’ve got those unforeseen circumstances out of the way…” the director continued as Rynn pushed himself upright. “We ought to take a moment to set the trial’s new date, preferably within the next several days, so we can avoid having to plan around the Labs.”
Rynn froze.
“Ah, good idea, Director!” said his father. “What do you say, Rynn? Take tomorrow to recover and complete the trial the day after?”
“No…” said Rynn, his voice only a low murmur.
“Oh, that fall must really have knocked it out of you, huh? How long do you need? Three days? Four?”
“...No…” he said again, his voice barely a whisper. His whole body was beginning to shudder.
“‘No’? Rynn, I don’t understand; we can’t wait too long… You have to complete your trial of fli--”
Something snapped.
“No!! You don’t understand! You don’t ever listen to what I say, you don’t ever pay attention to how I feel. Why can’t you understand that I. Hate. Flying?!”
Without waiting for any manner of response or reaction, he turned and ran down the hill as fast as his legs would carry him, ignoring the shouts from behind as tears began to well in his eyes. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he wanted to be far, far away from his father, and the director, and any others who wouldn’t see his struggle, and if that meant disappearing into the night, so would it be.
After a while, enough for dusk to have given way to twilight, Rynn slowed his pace in order to catch his breath. He looked around and found himself in what appeared to be one of the many, many century-old ruins that littered the land. Not wanting to leave himself exposed to the night, he quickly located and crawled into a small, mostly-intact room in one of the dilapidated buildings, over the mound of rubble that occupied what was likely once its doorway. The moonlight illuminated enough of the space for him to find his way to a wall and finally, for the first time in what felt like ages, try to relax his shaking, adrenaline-charged body.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit there through the night; that was plainly a terrible idea. But he needed space and time--to think and to focus and to get away from people who wouldn’t and couldn’t understand him--and he would not find those back at the Riverside Stable, not with his overzealous father and impatient flight director.
Though now that he had finally sat down and begun to calm his jittery nerves, he realized how exhausted he was, having spent almost the entire day fretting, flying, fighting, or fleeing. A dull soreness all over his body pleaded with him to stop moving, and though some part of him screamed to resist the pull, he felt his vision begin to fade…
“Hey, sleepyhead!”
Tevara’s bright voice cut through his drowsing like an arrow-shot. Rynn glanced up to see her smiling face gazing at him from the other end of the rubble, illuminated by the moon and the flame of the torch she was holding.
“Oh… hello, Tevara.”
“It’s been a bit over an hour, Rynn. Are you ready to come back yet? We…” She trailed off, her tone shifting as she seemingly noticed his expression and posture and silenced some quip she had planned to make.
Was he ready to go back? He knew, in the back of his mind, that he had already spent far too long away from civilization, but he had fallen asleep instead of processing his thoughts like he had wanted, and if he went back now, they’d still be tangled and writhing, and he didn’t really even want to look at his father or the trial director until he knew what to say.
Not hearing a response, Tevara spoke again, her voice now much softer. “I’m… really glad you're safe, Rynn. I feared the worst when we heard what had happened, and then when we came out to welcome you back, we heard your outburst and saw you running away… well, the night can be dangerous, especially when you’re alone.”
Rynn let the silence hang between them as he took in her words, then, after a few moments, spoke. “How did you find me before my father did? I thought he would have taken to the skies to try to trail me… him or Director Nokoss… or both…”
“That would be because I stopped them.” Rynn jumped slightly as another voice, the kindly and warm tone of Tevara’s mother Burnora, sounded from behind his friend. She stepped aside as the tall woman bent down to peer past the rubble pile as well, her scarlet-red hair joining her daughter’s and the torchlight in obscuring the opening in flame. “They both wanted to pursue you immediately, but I managed to convince them to wait for a while, and let us try to find you and bring you back first.”
“She grabbed them by the talons to force them back to the ground and calmly threatened to break their wings if they didn’t listen.” Tevara interjected, with her mouth turned up ever so slightly in a mischievous smirk. Rynn felt himself smile slightly, though he doubted either of them could see it.
“Rynn, I’ve known your father almost as long as you’ve known my daughter, and you’re right: he does often fail to listen, especially when he’s got his mind set on something. And up until an hour ago, he was set on you being able to be like him: Mevulo, one of the greatest fliers of our day, recognized by Master Teba himself.”
“So, what? He just… changed, suddenly? Suddenly he saw things differently?”
“You’ll have to talk to him yourself to see, young voe. For all his… idiosyncrasies, he truly does love you and want you to be happy, and… whether or not he would have listened to you before, he will listen now. I ma-- I’m sure of it.”
Rynn went silent once more, once again weighing his options. He wasn’t truly entirely ready to confront his father, but he also had a sneaking suspicion that, if he didn’t at least attempt to talk to him, he would never be ready. Slowly, he brought himself away from the wall and climbed out of the room--I swear it wasn’t this small when I entered--bringing himself back to his full height and stretching his limbs.
Tevara looked as though she wanted to hug him, but seemed to be resisting the urge, knowing how he felt about being touched. “Right, let’s head back! The night’s great and all, but it’s starting to get a bit chilly for what I’m wearing.”
The hike back to the stable passed without incident, and the three split ways at the entrance to its inn, Tevara and Burnora heading inside while Rynn went to meet his father at one of the campfire circles nearby.
“We’ll be here if you need us, Rynn,” said Tevara, “just… please don’t go running off again if things go south, okay?”
“I… I won’t. Thank you, both of you.”
They nodded as he turned and walked, slowly but firmly, toward where his father was sitting. He had been watching them from the moment they had returned, and upon being approached, leaped up from the log. Rynn was acutely aware of his father’s limbs twitching oddly and his posture being slightly off; it was clear that he, too, wanted to embrace him, but was trying to give him his space--it was one of the few things he had ever completely listened to Rynn about--and besides that was overall somewhat uncomfortable with and hesitant about the situation. It was a state that Rynn could not recall ever seeing his father in. A dark piece of his mind wanted to relish in that, fancying it a comeuppance for the discomfort he had had to endure; he quickly quelled it as best he could.
“Welcome back, Rynn… are you alright? Didn’t get hurt again out there?”
“I’m fine… could be better, but… fine.”
“Good…” His father’s expression shifted slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to prolong the pleasantries or get to the point, before he let out a quiet breath and settled upon the latter. “So… I never realized that you… you hated flying…”
This was obvious and unsurprising, but it still stirred Rynn’s frustration once more. “Really? You never once noticed how nervous I was whenever the topic of flying came up? The number of times I tried to avoid all the flight training? The fact that I never once expressed interest in flying, unlike literally every other Rito ever?”
“I…” he seemed to want to protest, or justify himself somehow, but… “No. I honestly, truly didn’t. Could you… perhaps elaborate? So I can… ‘understand’?”
“And you’ll listen? You won’t jump in or interrupt until I’m clearly finished speaking?” Rynn attempted to keep the malice out of his voice, but some managed to manifest anyway.
His father appeared to wince slightly, mumbling something to himself, before nodding. “Yes. I will wait, utterly silent, for you to say what you need to say.”
Rynn nodded, much more slowly, then took a deep breath, attempting to resist the stinging in the corners of his eyes. “Flying… it scares me…! I know it’s a cruel paradox, a Rito who’s afraid of flight, but... It doesn’t feel freeing, or exhilarating… it feels like I’m trapped in an uncaring and unforgiving void, and if anything goes wrong, I’ll plummet to the earth, desperately hoping that I can somehow slow the fall and mitigate the inevitable pain. There’s no ground, no cliffs, to support me or allow me to catch myself from the fall. That’s terrifying! Even the thought of it makes my mouth dry out and fills my stomach with butterflies, to say nothing of what it’s like actually doing it…! And then… and then…”--the tears had begun to flow, and he no longer cared to stop them--“And then, when my worst fears came true, and I tumbled from the sky and woke up lost in the jungle, alone, with a battered body and a broken wing, it was only by luck that I was rescued. And immediately after the damage was healed, you had me fly all the way back. These past two days have easily been the worst of my life, and you didn’t notice at all! For so long, you’ve constantly pushed me toward these lofty aims, but you never asked how I felt about them, about what I wanted to do.”
Another bout of silence hovered between them, as Rynn’s father considered his words and Rynn tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.
“And you… never tried to talk to me about this? If it… if it’s been affecting you this badly all this time?” His voice was sympathetic and concerned, with not even the slightest trace of accusation.
“I wanted to, and I really did try to! But every time I try to talk to you about something important, it feels like you’re always focused on something else, or so intent upon whatever you’ve set your mind on that you cut me off before I can say it. It’s been happening for so long now, that I’ve pretty much just… mostly stopped trying.”
Rynn was left almost breathless, having said much with more force than he had meant to. He collapsed upon the log opposite his father, trying to focus on anything else that might help to alleviate the anger and onslaught of unrestrained emotions that were rapidly taking a toll on his little remaining energy: the blades of grass beneath his talons, the way the breeze rippled through them and the way the firelight danced across them, the way they both cooled and warmed his ruffled feathers and strained limbs, or even the miniscule creatures that he couldn’t see for the dim glow, but knew were present all the same. ...Nothing truly seemed to help, and whether his father was waiting for any further word from Rynn or taking a remarkable amount of time to take in what he said, the silence between them was quickly approaching deafening.
Eventually, though he finally spoke. “Rynn, when… when you ran away, and Burnora stopped us from pursuing you, I was… confused, perhaps shocked… I didn’t understand why you did what you did, or why you felt what you felt. But then, she… said some of the same things that you did, in that way she always does. ...And it’s true: I always have struggled with letting others fully finish before jumping in, or taking notice of the states of others if I’m really focused elsewhere. It’s something I thought I was getting better about, but… it seems that, for this whole ordeal, at least, I wasn’t. I thought I knew what you wanted, how you felt, but… I was wrong, and I never did ask you, not truly. Flying is important to me, and I guess something in me made me feel as though you must as well.”
He paused again. It was odd to hear such explanations laid plainly from his father, but at the same time, with these admissions of fault, Rynn began to feel as though some weight were slowly being lifted from him.
“But you’re my son, not my clone; you don’t have to be exactly like me. I… I hate to see you like this, Rynn…! I hate that I made you feel like this. You shouldn’t feel like you can’t communicate with me, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do things that make you this viscerally uncomfortable, certainly not by me of all people. ...I wanted to be the best father and guide I could be to you. But I see now that I wasn’t. So… for all of this; for not listening, for making undue assumptions, for distressing you so… I want to apologize: I’m sorry, Rynn.”
Once more, something snapped. Not like the first time, like a branch being loudly split in twain, but rather like the resounding clicks of something finally falling into place. For the first time in far too long, a genuine, if shaky, smile crawled onto his face; not a smile of peace or contentment, but a smile formed out of a much-awaited lifting of weight and tension, of a catharsis long-overdue.
He lifted his head, finally looking directly into his father’s eyes again, difficult though they were to see through the fresh wave of tears. “I… I… ...thank you, Dad.”
A matching expression formed in his face, a clear relief passing over and through his body. “No, thank you, Rynn, for helping me to finally see you. I promise, on my honor as a Rito, a Hyrulean, and someone who you should be able to trust, that from this point forward, I’ll do all I can to make sure that nothing like this ever has to happen again.”
Rynn stood. His father’s form was again held in that odd and subtle-but-evident way that indicated a repressed intent to embrace, which he only now had a greater appreciation for.
“Now, it’s later than any of us should be up. Don’t worry about Director Nokoss: he left a bit ago, something about having ‘other obligations’. We can figure out what to do next--for everything and anything--in the morning. For now, though, I think you deserve to get some proper rest.”
Without a word, Rynn nodded, turned, and headed toward the stable’s inn. There was still much to think about, much to talk about, and there were some parts of it that he couldn’t say he was looking forward to, but for the time being, he felt lighter than he had in a long while, almost as if he was, then and there, without fear or doubt or fright or dread, flying.
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arhvste · 4 years
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KUROO TETSURO - 3:37AM
summary - you and kuroo play hide and seek in the early hours of morning after the hot nights of mid august prevent you both from falling asleep - fluff
this was actually a prompt written by @emma_ichihara on tiktok that i absolutely needed to write about after i saw it so thank u for that queen <3
warnings - none
-
The heat in your bedroom was unbearable. Then again, you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it to be as mid august is always going to be a pain to sleep through.
You tossed about in your sheets flailing your arms and legs about trying to get some sort of breeze across your limbs only to flop down in frustration. Grabbing your phone from the side of your bed you checked the time. 2:27AM.
Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen and you put your phone back down only to hear it vibrate on the surface as soon as you let go of the device. Assuming it was going to be a random notification from one of your apps you almost decided to ignore it but something told you to check regardless.
Your eyes once again squinting as they adjusted to the luminous light emitting from your phone contrasting against the darkness of your room. Your heart fluttered as you read through the notification.
2:28AM - tetsoup : i know ur up right now
You unlocked your phone as you typed out your reply. A conversation flowing between the two of you.
2:28AM - thot chan : okay u got me sue me for not being able to handle the heat
2:29AM - tetsoup : would’ve thought after being around me so much you’d be able to handle the hot ;)
2:29AM - thot chan : ur a chemistry nerd u aren't hot
2:29AM - tetsoup : fail ur next chemistry exam for all i care dont ask me for help :(
2:30AM - thot chan : you wound me captain
2:30AM - thot chan : and what are u doing up right now?
2:31AM - tetsoup : same as u genius, this heat is making my body perspire more than what i’d like
2:31AM - thot chan : lmao that means u finna be smelly. go take a cold shower u farm animal
2:31AM - tetsoup : at 2am? i don't think so u imbecile, i have a better solution though
2:32AM - thot chan : and that is?
You stared at your phone expecting a reply quickly but after 5 minutes it never came.
‘Idiot must’ve fallen asleep’
You hummed as you set your phone back down and allowed your head to hit back against the soft pillows on your bed. The heat was still bothering you so it didn’t look like you were going to be getting much sleep, regardless you still tried by closing your eyes and trying to force your brain into drifting off into a peaceful slumber.
Not even 4 minutes into your attempt at forced sleep you heard your phone vibrate softly against the wood of your bedside table. Snatching it up towards your face you stared at the notification in disbelief.
2:43AM - tetsoup : im outside ur house hurry up the bugs are eating me alive
This boy.
Swinging your legs off the hurricane of sheets, pillows and your comforter, you dragged yourself over to the window to peek through your blinds. There stood your tall boyfriend with a big hoodie and sweatpants on, signature bedhead with his hands in his pockets patiently waiting for your arrival.
You smiled slightly. He really had your whole heart and you couldn’t deny that even if you tried.
Grabbing one of his hoodies you had ‘borrowed’ you threw on your shoes and quietly made your way to the front door carefully not wanting to disturb your parents and have them question your activities.
“Finally, my body was about to start decomposing from all the bugs attacking me from just standing here.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
Kuroo pulled your smaller frame into his significantly larger one as you inhaled the scent of his hoodie. He buried his head into the crook of your neck as he gave it a soft kiss before looking back down at you.
“Come on let's go.”
You hummed in curiosity but allowed the boy to take your smaller hand into his larger calloused one and lead the way to the unknown destination.
It wasn’t rare for you and Kuroo to meet up during the night. Sure you spent a lot of time together most days but there was something about being the only ones out in such public places that made you both feel as if you were the only ones in the world. This feeling never got old to the pair of you as everytime the two of you met up in the earliest hours of morning you would find yourselves falling in love all over again with each other. These hours were the ones you held close to your evergrowing heart.
After 5 minutes of walking through the peaceful streets in your neighbourhood, Kuroo led you to the playground the two of you and Kenma would find yourselves occupied most days after school back when you were all younger. The place was such a public and overlooked one, but you all still cherished the memories created there and would sometimes find yourselves reminiscing on those times whenever you’d come back.
You let go of your boyfriend’s hand as you climbed onto the climbing structure which years ago would’ve proven to be more of a challenge for you to reach the top too. The platform a lot smaller than it used to be, you grabbed the railing and allowed a gentle breeze to run through the locks of your hair.
Kuroo looked up at you, adoration twinkling in his eyes. To him you were everything. He had known you ever since he first moved into the neighbourhood with his dad and grandparents. He used to find talking to others a struggle and found Kenma particularly hard to communicate with. You however, took the opportunity to get both boys to open up more to each other right by the reigns and within your first 6 months of being acquainted with each other, you had managed to get both boys comfortable enough to call you and each other a friend in confidence. For that, Kuroo was eternally grateful and even more so when you accepted his romantic feelings towards you 3 years ago.
“Let’s play hide and seek, you know, like we used to.”
You turned smiling to the beheaded captain. He gave you his signature smirk and turned around.
“You’ve got 30 seconds, be prepared to lose immediately.”
You laughed as he began to count up to 30, crouching behind a slide that you thought covered yourself from his view. It actually took Kuroo 54 seconds to find you and you turned the childish game into a small competition between the two of you, tallying up who could find the other the fastest each time.
It got to your 13th round and this time you were hiding inside the slide. Kuroo had yet to find you and it had been 8 minutes already. This confused you slightly as the usually perceptive boy would’ve found you by now. You climbed out of the slide and onto the platform as you glanced around your surroundings seeing no signs of him.
You raised your eyebrow as you knew the boy surely must be messing with you. He would never actually abandon you especially without letting you know.
Cupping your hands to both sides of your mouth you let yourself lean towards the railing of the climbing structure.
“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo!”
You called out while continuing to scan the area in your view.
What you weren’t expecting was for strong arms to find their way around your waist as you felt someone's hot breath against the skin on your neck.
“I’m right here, my beautiful Juliet.”
You gasped as Kuroo kissed your neck before spinning you around to look at you directly. One of his hands supporting your back and the other moving a piece of loose hair away from your face, he stared into your eyes which twinkled under the stars. You smiled widely at him as he admired your gorgeous face.
He allowed his hand to trail down your neck until he moved his fingers to weave through your hair delicately. Moving his head down, he softly kissed your lips as you melted into his touch. Your hands moved to his broad shoulders as he deepened the kiss making you sigh in satisfaction. You hummed as he drew small circles on your back with his long fingers let your own hands move towards his untamable hair and rake through it resulting in a hum of approval from him.
You both pulled away as you studied each other's expressions. In that moment Kuroo had fallen for you even deeper if that was possible. Every fibre in his being adored you and it took so much self control to not just tackle you off the structure and cuddle you forever. You were his soulmate he was sure of that. The idea of love had never crossed Kuroo’s mind until middle school when you had both grown up a little bit more. He was focused on volleyball and keeping up his grades but you were always at the back of his mind driving him crazy to the point where he felt he had no other choice than to explore these foreign feelings for you. He would argue that by confessing to you, he had made the best decision in his life. You brought nothing but pure light into his life he was convinced you were some sort of guardian angel. You couldn’t be real. You were a living goddess and there were times when he’d feel like you were too good to be true.
The feelings were mutual on your side too. Kuroo Tetsuro had been a challenge for you to get to open up but when he did he didnt hold back on subconsciously taking your heart and occupying your thoughts on the daily. The two of you held such a deep and indescribable love for each other sometimes you felt like it was too hard to contain.
Brought back to reality by your hand caressing his cheek Kuroo turned to you and smiled so genuinely.
“Y/N, I am so so in love with you.”
“I know Tetsu. I love you too. So much.”
You pecked his cheek as he guided you off the climbing structure and onto the soft grass surrounding the playground.
You both laid there in a comfortable silence as you allowed the sounds of distant cars passing through the busy city of tokyo, and the soft sounds of crickets chirping as you cuddled up to Kuroo’s chest.
He wrapped his muscular arms around you and pulled you close to him whispering “I love you” over and over again quietly enough for only you to hear.
The early morning had reached 3AM and you both knew you’d have to make your way back to your homes soon but right now nothing else mattered.
The only thing on your minds was the fact you were both stupidly in love with each other and you would continue to allow yourselves to fall in love over and over again as you stared at the stars whispering small professions of love to one another for the remaining time you spent outside.
Kuroo Tetsuro, a perceptive boy who hadn’t considered love until you came into his life, had never felt such raw emotion in his life and it was these early hour moments which he would hold close to his heart for the rest of his life which he had planned to go through with you by his side.
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softsillytwsted · 4 years
Text
The Sleep of Blue Roses
I had this thought in my head of a what if story about an Ace betrayal and couldn’t stop myself from writing this until it was done. This is honestly not what I usually write because it’s kinda dark, but hey - it fits October doesn’t it?
Warnings: implied character death, implied domestic abuse, angst, the slow crawl of helplessness
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Somewhere between now and back when you were still here, Deuce never understood limits. How can he? You were magicless, but you selflessly faced those impossibly stronger than you and succeeded. Deuce felt that nothing was out of reach when he was with you, with Ace, with Grim, Jack, Epel, Sebek...
When did things go wrong?
After weeks of strategizing a way to rescue Grim, who’s habit of eating everyone’s negative energy finally caused him to overblot, the gray monster was finally back to normal. Looking back, Deuce could only see how reckless and impossible the task was. They were up against a monster that had the combined magic and unique magic of the 7 strongest students from an academy of elites. The situation that promised death loomed over everyone, yet with you there, no one had any doubts they would fail. Not Riddle, not Leona, not Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, nor Malleus. And the impossible was made possible.
And you left this world thinking the impossible can be made possible.
“I arrived in Twisted Wonderland right after my mom contacted me,” you admitted shyly. “I haven’t talked to her since I was a kid because my dad always told me to stay away from her but... I really want to see her again.”
You were in front of the mirror, bags packed and your friends surrounding you. You can finally return back home and with a piece of the Dark Mirror in your hands you can communicate with them whenever you desired.
Deuce beamed at you, “It’ll go great, I know it will! My mother is always kind to me and she wanted what was best for me. I’m sure yours will be the same too!”
Ace hugged you before you left. “It’s seriously going to get so boring without you around. You better contact us or I’ll go over there and kick your ass.” Jokes aside, you and Deuce could tell by the glint in Ace’s eyes that he meant every word. You smiled at him then, because despite knowing each other for a year, the three of you shared an inseparable bond.
“I promise.”
You left them.
Days passed, then weeks, with no word from you. After one month, Ace angrily stormed into the Mirror Chamber and demanded to go see you.
“They do not exist.”
“Of course they don’t fucking exist, they’re in another world- now lead me to them!”
“They do not exist in this world or in any other world.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that!? They were here just a month ago!” Ace lunged at the mirror. His fists futilely pounded on its glassy surface before he tried to shake the mirror out of its placeholder. Deuce had to restrain the wildly thrashing Ace before the ginger stilled in his arms- lifeless. “Whatever, I’m over it.” He took a deep breath and walked away, ignoring Deuce’s and Grim’s cries after him.
If Deuce took better notice of the chill that followed Ace’s steps, maybe things would’ve been different. Instead, he visited the Mirror Chamber until a year passed and he too gave up- only visiting again on occasion, whereas Grim still stops by everyday.
Ace’s friendship with Deuce and Grim were strained at best. The ginger acted the same, but something was different. Like a cherished photo misplaced. Deuce didn’t question when Ace started hanging out with Kalim and Jamil more and Deuce and the other first years less. Nor did he stop to think about why Ace volunteered to do errands for Azul and Crowley. He even looked away when he saw Ace chatting it up with the two princes of the school.
They graduated like this without mentioning the name Y/n.
***
“AAH! Oh no are you alright?” Deuce yelled after you when you somersaulted from a heavy onslaught of his color-changing magic. “I’m so sorry!”
You could only giggle at your current state. Ace warned you not to get close to Deuce while he was changing the colors of the roses, but you assumed being behind Deuce would be safe. You were now paying for your mistakes. “Don’t worry about it Deuce,” you paused. The smile you flashed him revealed a weariness he couldn’t comprehend. “It was my fault too.”
***
Two years later, Deuce finally passed his test to become part of Rose Kingdom’s Elite Division. Right after orientation, he was pleasantly surprised by a visit from Ace who threw an arm over the bluenette’s shoulders and cheekily grinned at him like the two never grew apart. For a long moment, Deuce believed they never did as the two went to a bar to celebrate and catch up. Deuce breezed through all the sleepless nights he spent studying and training; Ace regaled his continuation of his internship. 
“They loved me so much they made a new position to get me to stay!” he said. “And guess what? He said that if he becomes prime minister he’ll make me one of his advisors. Not too bad huh?”
Deuce couldn’t be happier for Ace. He always wondered what Ace, who blanched at the idea of the future, would do with his life. He admits, however, that politics was the furthest thing he would ever imagine his friend doing. “Being in the political scene can be dangerous I hear. Luckily I can assign my own bodyguards, including a certain elite policeman.”
This was news to Deuce. He was unaware of any political strife that would need the Elite Division, which specialized in magic-related crimes, to act as bodyguards... Maybe he needs to follow the news more closely. Regardless, Deuce grinned with all teeth and slammed his fist in his palm. “Just leave it to me, no way in hell I’ll let my buddy get hurt.”
“...Glad I can count on you... buddy.”
***
Deuce helped you up and tried to wipe off the paint on your uniform. You didn’t bother telling him that he was only smearing the paint into your clothes because of the look of concentration on his face telling you how hard he wanted to make this right. “Oh Deuce, you ended up painting the finished roses blue too.”
“What? Oh no...” he groaned at the extra work he’ll have to do. Will he be in time for the Unbirthday Party?
“Hey relax, I’ll help you out! We should be finished within an hour if we hurry,” you reassured him. He flashed you a grateful smile which you returned with a soft smile of your own.
***
The time between then and the election passed with a blink of an eye. Once his candidate won, Ace swaggered over to Deuce’s department with the confidence and authority that didn’t fit a 21 year-old advisor. It didn’t take long for Deuce to find himself a part of Ace’s security detail. It took an even shorter amount of time for Deuce to feel like he was slowly crawling into a waking nightmare.
Deuce tried to ignore it, tried to give Ace the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn’t excuse the things Ace did right in front of him. Dismissals of important emergency committees, deregulation of organizations with authority, increased spending on militarized weapons. The public blamed all these new policies on their new prime minister, but Deuce knew who the real mastermind was.
It didn’t take long for him to confront Ace - especially after he realized that the recent strings of overblot cases popping up across the country were a direct result of Ace’s policies.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Ace sneered. Deuce looked away; the gun in his hand hung lifelessly by his side. “You couldn’t even stop Y/n from leaving to die. You definitely won’t stop me from having my way with this country.”
“What?”
“Don’t give me that... You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Ace looked at Deuce like he was a bug beneath his shoe, but the quake in his eyes said otherwise. “You’re hereby dismissed from your post. If the next time I see you and you try to stop me, I’ll crush you.”
Ace walked away from Deuce- just like he did years ago.
“I’ve done too much to have you get in my way.” 
***
Deuce felt so lucky to have met you, despite the rocky beginning. You never hesitated to help and encourage him. Sometimes, when his vague idea of an honor student wasn’t enough to guide him, he would look to you.
He wondered if you knew how much he wanted to repay you for being you.
He wondered if he can one day be someone you would be proud to know.
He wondered... what you thought of him.
***
The familiar halls of Night Raven College felt comforting - a temporary balm to the turmoil Deuce felt lately. He had hoped to see some of his old teachers and Crowley, but the school’s headmaster was tasked to find the Magic Mirror, the legendary mirror that the Beautiful Queen used once upon a time. No doubt, this was Ace’s doing.
When Deuce reached the Mirror Chamber, he was surprised to find Grim was nowhere to be found. Deuce ignored the churning in his stomach and thought to himself that maybe he was just early. After all these years, Grim never stopped believing that you would return to them. Crowley always spoke with pity in his voice about how the little monster would visit the Dark Mirror everyday- waiting, staring.
Deuce respectfully crouched in front of the mirror - like a mourner in front of a grave. 
“Hello Y/n I’m sorry it’s been a while since my last visit,” Deuce began, he softly smiled while thinking of all the memories he had of you. “I was able to pass the qualifications to be part of the Elite Division. One of my first assignments was actually to guard Ace, can you believe that?”
He paused and tried to gulp down the lump in his throat. “Um… about Ace he… he’s made it big as a politician. He’s my friend and I was happy for him but… a part of me is scared. He’s not the same anymore after you left Y/n. Looking back, I can’t help but think how reckless and dumb we were to risk our lives against people we had no chance against. But we always made it through thanks to you.” Every single sentence, every single word came out in a rush. It was a confession to all the sins he committed letting Ace go. A realization that he could never be the man he wanted you to be proud of.
“You somehow make the impossible possible… I… I really need that right now...” He begged, “Please… I need...”
Deuce didn’t realize he was crying until the tears flowed down his cheeks and onto his clenched fists. He looked up at the Dark Mirror and activated it. “Oh Dark Mirror, show me Y/n.”
“...”
“They do not exist.”
***
“Hey Deuce,” you began as you picked up a blue rose. The two of you were almost done cleaning up the mess Deuce made and you decided now was the time to take a breather. Deuce slouched in the shade of the hedge, too tired to do anything but hum to show he was listening. “In my world, blue roses were never found naturally, so they symbolized the impossible. But after years of research, my world was able to grow one.”
You handed Deuce the rose, its petals shone brilliantly despite its withering edges. Deuce took it curiously and the two of you shared a sweet smile.
“They now symbolize miracles.”
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Dusk Till Dawn - Part 5
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Everything seems to be back to normal as you and Peter prepare for homecoming, but nobody seems to realize how much is about to change.
Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, 
A/N: I’m truly sorry this is late. There was some stuff I needed to deal with (but i’m fine now.). @rosaliestark01 will post part 6 very soon. GIFs are not mine. Credit goes to @spiderholland
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Ever since the incident at the bank, everyone seemed to walk on egg shells around you. They probably didn’t think you’d notice, but you did. They tended to stay out of your way, only talking to you if it was about school or how you were feeling.
The only people you ever saw really were the Avengers, Pepper, and Happy. Ned, MJ, Harry, and Harley visited once but it only lasted a few minutes. You rarely saw Tony. As for Ellie, you were the one to tell her that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a while.
She seemed pissed. You understood why you weren’t allowed to hang out with her anymore, but that didn’t stop her from insulting every single one of the Avengers, especially Peter. It surprised you because when you first met her, she seemed like one of the sweetest and kindest people you’d ever met. 
After finishing an essay for your English class, you heard a knock on the door. Part of you didn’t want to open it in case it was Tony. Luckily, it wan’t. Peter was standing outside your room.
“Um... these are for you,” he says handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You’ve pretty much been on house-arrest for a week and a half and he is just now visiting you. 
“Thanks,” you mumble. 
“So, um, I talked to Pepper and Happy and they said it would be okay if we hung out... if you want?” He asks hopefully. You may be upset that he’s been giving you the silent treatment, but you are itching to get out of your room. Besides, you can’t deny how much you missed spending time with him.
“I do,” you say. 
“I was thinking we could go to the park today,” he smiles as you set the bouquet on your desk. You notice Peter eyeing the USB, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
“That sounds good,” you say. “I haven’t been to the park in forever.”
When you both arrive at the park, you’re stunned at what you see. There’s music, carnival games, and food trucks. It looks like a fair.
“What is all this?” You ask as you take in your surroundings. You’ve never seen the park like this before. It was amazing.
“It’s a pep rally,” Peter say. Just then do you notice that most of the people hosting the games were on the football team. 
“I though that pep rallies were always held in the gymnasium at school.” They usually were. The few pep rallies you’ve been to were mandatory. The only way to get out of them were if you had to be somewhere else or if you were sick at home.
“I think Mr. Morita wanted to have the whole community involved,” he tells you. 
You ended up deciding to play a few games. You were pretty sure that today, he surprised the entire football team. Peter won at every game and at one point the football coach even tried to recruit him. Afterwards, you both decided to have lunch, but something caught your eye.
“Is that Happy?”
“Mr. Stark thought it would be a good idea,” Peter said. You knew that what he meant was Mr.Stark thought it would be a good idea to keep an eye on you. 
“Of course he did,” you mumble under your breath. Peter caught it nonetheless. He knew that things seemed pretty tense between you and Tony, but he didn’t want to bud too much into your personal life. 
“Peter!” A familiar voice yells behind the two of you causing you to internally wince. 
“Oh, hey Gwen,” Peter says. You could tell that he didn’t really want to talk to her just as much as you didn’t want him talking to her. You knew that saying it out loud would make you sound like a jealous brat, but Peter was clearly uncomfortable talking to her, especially since he took a hold of your hand.
“I was wondering if you still had a date to homecoming,” Gwen asks as she bats her eyelashes and stares all doey eyed at Peter.
“Yeah, I’m still taking Y/N,” Peter said as he motions to you. 
“Oh,” she said, still not acknowledging your presence. “I just figured since Y/N doesn’t go to Midtown-”
“I’m still a student at Midtown,” You cut her off. Now, you’ve finally gained her attention, even if she is subtly glaring at you. “I’m just taking my classes online for now.”
“Okay,” she pouts.  “I’ll see you later, Peter.” 
She blows him a kiss before walking off. You didn’t understand what she saw in him. Sure, you were head over heel for the boy, but she had nothing in common with him other than that they both have “internships” with big companies. 
“So, you still want me to go to homecoming with you?” You ask. In all honesty, you didn’t think he still would.
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” he asks with furrowed brows. 
You shrugged, but that didn’t seem to be enough.
“I just thought that since you haven’t spoken to me in almost two weeks that you were mad at me for what happen at the bank,” you confess. Peter’s eyes widen a bit at your confession.
“Y/N, I don’t blame you for that. I never did.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited.”
“It’s okay.” You were so busy drowning your self in school work because you didn’t think Peter wanted anything to do with you that you didn’t even buy a- “Damn, I still have to find a dress.”
“If you want, I can take you to find one,” Peter offers. 
“It’s fine. I’m sure that Pepper can take me.” Lately, Pepper had tried spending more time with you and you were sure that she’d help you find a dress.
Unfortunately, it turns out that Pepper was busy with meetings all week. You then asked Nat, but she was leaving for a mission with Bucky, Sam, and Steve. In the end, Happy was the one to take you.
“Is this the last one?” Happy asked. You had already been to three stores before this and if you didn’t find anything you liked, then you would pick the one that you didn’t hate the most. 
“Yeah. I promise that this is the last store,” you said. You were getting tired of looking too and you felt bad making Happy rate all of your dresses. You just wanted to find a dress that you actually liked. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for very long. 
The first one you saw at this store was a dark blue dress that looked better than any of the ones you’ve looked at (picture below the tags). After trying it on, you were pleased to say the least. It was perfect.
“How does this one look?” you ask Happy. You were pretty sure that you were going to buy it regardless, but you still wanted a second opinion.
“It looks good. Can we go now?” Happy said barely looking at you. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed. You went back into the dressing room to change back into your regular clothes when you noticed something in your purse that definitely wasn’t yours. It was another USB that looked a lot like the one you stole from Hydra, except this one was blue instead of red.
“What the-” you say. Unfortunately, you must’ve said it a bit too loud because the next thing you know, Happy was knocking on the door.
“Is everything okay in there?” Happy asks, probably in security mode.
“Yeah, Happy, everything’s fine!” you call back. Once you’re fully dressed, you slip the USB back into your purse.
“Okay, let’s go,” he says. You say for the dress and head back to the Tower.
“Hey, Y/N, how was dress shopping?” Pepper asks. She looks like she just got back from her meetings. 
“It went well,” you say. You think back to finding another strange USB and you couldn’t help but want to know what was on it. “I have a physics test to study for, so I’ll be in my room.”
“Okay, you better pass,” Pepper jokes. You have straight As, so she knows that your grades aren’t something to worry about.
“I will,” you say before shutting yourself in you room.
“Okay, let’s see what this is about.” You are about to plug it into your laptop, but the sound of your phone ringing stops you.
“Hello?” you ask.
“Hey, Y/N.” Peter says through the line. You set the USB on the desk next to the other one.
“Hi, Peter.” you say.
“I was wondering if you wanted to come over and visit May?” Well, you haven’t seem May in a while and it’s not like the USB is just going to disappear while your gone.
“I’d love to,” you say.
-------------------------------------
Back inside his run down apartment, Ezekiel paces back and forth. He is angry.
“This is you’re fault! Go fix it!” He yells as he points an accusing finger at Eloise.
“I tried, but she won’t talk to me,” She explains, but it’s no use. “They won’t let her.”
“Do I need to remind you what happened last time you failed?” He yells. Normally, anyone else would’ve flinched at someone yelling in their face, but Eloise stood her ground. If only she could convince him that she’s not entirely useless, they could both they what they want.
“But I fixed that and I can fix this.” Ezekiel rolls his eyes at her words. “We both want the same thing. Without me, neither of us can get what we want.”
“All you want is to destroy Spider-Man,”He spits out.  “You’re little trap failed.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice how much of a disaster the bank incident was. If only you hadn’t gotten in the way, Spider-Man could be dead and you could be easier to manipulate. 
“I do want to squash that bug, but I still haven’t forgotten the mission,” Eloise says. Ezekiel smirks at her, causing her to roll her eyes at him. 
“Which is?” he presses. She knows he’s testing her. He should know that after everything she’s been through, that she could never forget their true mission.
“Eliminate Iron Man.”
Tag List
@eridanuswave @drishtisikarwar @spideygirl2003 @ilovespideyyy @purplekitten30 @slytherinambitious
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rosethornewrites · 3 years
Text
Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 16
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Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wēn Qíng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Granny Wēn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Remnants, Wen Meilin (OC), Fourth Uncle, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin
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
Summary: The Jiang siblings visit the Burial Mounds. Feels are had.
Warning: Involves bugs as food. For Notes, see end.
AO3 link
Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
------------------
Lan Wangji is unsurprised, and somewhat relieved, when Wen Qing takes one look at Wei Ying upon their return to the Burial Mounds and tells him to go take a nap with A-Yuan.
His husband had already been swaying dangerously in the Yiling market when they had bought supplies, and had tried to insist Jiang Yanli ride in the cart while he walk, though he had quickly been overruled when Wen Ning, of all people, pointed out they could both ride comfortably if someone had a qiankun pouch for their purchases. Jiang Wanyin had pulled one from his sleeve, one that seemed oddly full, and Wen Ning helped place their purchases in it.
“Get in the damn cart, moron,” the Jiang sect leader said when Wei Ying hesitated.
“A-Xian, come ride with me,” Jiang Yanli coaxed, taking his arm and steering him to it herself.
Wei Ying was exhausted enough to fall asleep on her shoulder, despite the bumpy ride, on the way back, A-Yuan snuggled in his sister’s arms. He doesn’t look particularly refreshed when they have to wake him.
Despite his exhaustion, Wei Ying still tries to argue against a nap, eying his siblings, clearly considering their visit more important than his health. Lan Wangji finds his disregard for his own well-being concerning, but is well aware it isn’t unusual, just something they need to break him of. 
“I told them,” he says. “In town. I bet they have questions, and—”
“I can answer their questions, Wei Wuxian!” she cuts in. “I performed the surgery, after all. You’re delegating the task to me and going to take a nap before I bring out the needles—don’t think I won’t knock you out.”
The mention of her needles clearly cows him, but he still seems hesitant. 
“It’s our turn to take care of things,” Jiang Wanyin says, not looking at him. “You’ve done enough, Wei Wuxian.”
“More than enough,” Jiang Yanli murmurs, and reaches forward to pull him into a gentle hug. “Let us take care of our A-Xian, hm?”
Wei Ying seems frozen for a moment in the embrace, but relaxes into it. Lan Wangji can see him tremble as he hugs her back, and he knows, for the moment, they’ve won. It’s a small triumph, but at this point he’ll take it. 
“Okay, shijie,” he says finally. “Xianxian will take a nap with Yuanyuan.”
She lets him go and pats his cheek in a way that reminds Lan Wangji of his mother when he was very young. 
A-Yuan insists on giving his guma a hug before he lets Wei Ying take his hand and lead him toward the cave. 
“Go with him,” Wen Qing insists, to his surprise. 
It must show somehow, because she sighs. 
“I told you when you came: you take care of him. That’s your job. I’ll take care of this—I wrote Jiang-guniang, after all.”
Lan Wangji nods, privately relieved his presence isn’t required for this conversation. He bows to each of them before leaving, including Wen Qing as a thank you even though it makes her huff in embarrassment. 
As he takes longer strides to catch up with Wei Ying, he can hear Jiang Yanli speak to Wen Qing in a sweet voice that is likely terrifying up close in how it utterly fails to hide her ferocious protectiveness of her beloved adoptive brother—he mentally wishes Wen Qing luck. 
He picks up A-Yuan and gets a startled glance from Wei Ying, who is not quite to the point of barely standing, but close enough that Lan Wangji wraps his free arm around him to steady him as they make their way to the cave. 
A-Yuan babbles sleepily about having a new aunt and uncle, having been largely unaffected by the tension in town, and before long they’re both tucked in. Wei Ying doesn’t bother removing his boots, so Lan Wangji does it for him. 
Before he can rise, Wei Ying reaches out for him, his eyes half-lidded as he’s already being pulled toward sleep, in what Lan Wangji recognizes as a plea for him to stay, to sit on the bed and let him be close as he sleeps. After the stress of the afternoon on his husband, he is happy to oblige, happy Wei Ying would ask, even silently, for his support. 
“I will stay,” he tells him, settling beside him on the bed, letting Wei Ying tuck close and use his thigh as a pillow. 
Not to be left out, A-Yuan clambers over them and settles curled between them against Wei Ying’s stomach, his face pressed into the front of his robe as he falls asleep. Lan Wangji draws the blanket up over both of them.
He has used the table near the bed both as a desk and to play the guqin, so it is no trouble to carefully stack the papers next to the bed and slide the inkstone back so he can pull out Wangji.
Wei Ying lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his body, as he starts ‘WuJi.’ The song has been a comfort to his husband, he knows, when he himself failed to be, and he hopes to soon work on a new song, something that will capture the joy he finds in their marriage. The circumstances in which they and the people Wei Ying rescued live are less than ideal, and he wishes he could take him from this place of darkness and the memories of the horror he still cannot speak of, but they are together, and that is much preferable to being alone in the Cloud Recesses. 
Before long, Wei Ying is asleep, and he segues into songs of cleansing and healing. Without a golden core, without Wen Qing’s needles, the latter has little impact—but little isn’t none, and he is still recovering. Every little bit helps, and after the stress of the day, he helps the only way he can, aside from serving as Wei Ying’s pillow. 
He loses himself in the music, coming close to a meditative state as he plays. Time passes like sand through fingers before he hears hesitant steps enter the cave. 
Lan Wangji pauses in his playing, recognizing two sets of footsteps, one the shuffling gait of Wen Ning, and the other softer. He is unsurprised when Jiang Yanli is the second set. 
He is also unsurprised to see her face wet with tears. 
Wen Ning offers her a short bow, then hefts the bathtub from their alcove as he does daily, kindly bringing fresh water and herbs for Wei Ying to use at night. He nods to him in thanks. 
Jiang Yanli returns Wen Ning’s bow, and his esteem of her rises—many failed to give that respect to him in life, and more would likely refuse to now that he is a corpse, spiritual conscious or not. But Wei Ying’s sister recognizes him as he is: family. 
Though the reverberation of the strings has ceased, the motion of stilling them is a comfort to Lan Wangji as he waits for her to speak. She watches her brother sleep for a while. 
“Wen-guniang… She said he’s in pain,” she finally says. 
Lan Wangji nods to confirm. 
“That he’s been in pain since— since the war, and we didn’t…”
More tears spill down her cheeks, and he knows if Wei Ying were awake he would spring to comfort her. 
“He hid it,” he tells her softly. “You could not have known.”
She makes a sound that is almost pained. 
“I raised him. I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t—“
Jiang Yanli presses her fist against her mouth. 
“I led him to believe I disdained him and wished for him to be punished,” Lan Wangji says.
His failure to communicate had led to the strain of their relationship, to the point where Wei Ying had questioned whether he was still his zhiji, and he will forever regret letting him walk away into the darkness and rain even after that. He empathizes with her completely.
She is silent for a while before she nods.
“Wen-guniang has an idea,” she says. “She said Zewu-Jun pointed out that there is a life debt among our generation. The six of us, A-Xuan, and Nie Huaisang. An auspicious eight. Swearing brotherhood… It could protect A-Xian, and the people here.”
Xiongzhang had hinted at it, and Lan Wangji is glad Wen Qing is furthering the possibility.
“It would tie together the four sects, and the remnants of the Dafan Wen,” he adds, thinking aloud. 
“A-Cheng pointed out that the lotus blossom has eight petals,” she says, smiling wistfully. “He and A-Xian used to talk about being the Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It seems almost like a sign.”
Lan Wangji is struck silent at the idea; the eight auspicious signs are almost sacred, and the imagery would be iconic. The imagery was prevalent at temples—the eternal wheel of life, the endless knot, the conch, the parasol, the lotus… 
The noble eightfold path, an expansion of the threefold way.
Almost implying an expansion of the Venerated Triad, and associating Wei Ying with the noble path regardless of his cultivation.
“Apt,” he says when he finally finds his voice.
“I’ll talk to A-Xuan,” she says, her voice distant. “I know he and A-Xian didn’t get off on the right foot, but he knows I love my didi.”
“Xiongzhang is bringing Chifeng-Zun and Nie Huaisang to see the settlement after your wedding,” Lan Wangji tells her. “I am certain Wen Qing will broach the topic of a sworn brotherhood with them then.”
Jiang Yanli sways slightly, and he panics for a moment; if he needs to move to catch her, it will jostle and wake Wei Ying, and he needs the rest. But she steadies herself, and he is able to gesture to a chair instead, and she takes a seat.
“Hanguang-Jun, since you are my brother’s husband, I wondered if I might call you A-Zhan.”
The request to use his birth name surprises him—xiongzhang had only requested to call Wei Ying by his courtesy name—but she seems earnest about wanting to welcome him to the family. 
“Of course. May I call you… A-Li?”
A smile blossoms across her face, and she nods, looking pleased. 
Then Wei Ying murmurs in his sleep and their attention snaps to him. Lan Wangji strokes his hair gently, letting his fingers brush his scalp in a way he knows soothes him. He settles almost instantly, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. 
Jiang Yanli, when he next looks up, is watching with a bittersweet look on her face. 
“I used to do that for him,” she says softly, “when he had nightmares. Until he started hiding them.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say, so only nods. He understands her sense of helplessness, knowing Wei Ying is adept at hiding his pain, would still be hiding it if not for having pulled his wrist away a second too late. 
“I wish he was coming to my wedding,” she confesses, her voice breaking. “He belongs there. But they’d try to kill him.”
He cannot disagree with either statement. Wei Ying should be there, as one of her last remaining family members, even if he did not share her blood, but it would never be permitted. Not now. Not until the plan xiongzhang implied to Wen Qing is put into motion.
But by then she will be married, the wedding over, and Wei Ying will not have been permitted to attend.
“You have done what you can to include him,” he tells her, hoping to soothe her. “He did not expect this much.”
It seems to have the opposite effect, tears lining her cheeks again.
“He never expects anything of us,” she whispers. “Mother made him feel undeserving, like he should feel grateful for any scrap. I try not to hate her for it, but…”
Lan Wangji can understand how she feels, has seen the marks from Zidian on Wei Ying, still healing when he gave his core to his brother, something he has probably hidden from his sister even through everything. And he knows Wei Ying feels he deserves those marks, believing the fall of Lotus Pier to be of his doing. The emotional damage goes far deeper. 
“We can only assure him he deserves more,” he says after a moment. “And be sure to give it to him.”
He has been trying to do so, but it never feels like enough to make up for abandoning him at Qiongqi Path, for failing to join him on the righteous path, even if it is the single-plank one, for making his zhiji believe he reviled him. He understands how Jiang Yanli feels—though perhaps she feels it more deeply, or at least differently, as the person who basically raised him. 
Footsteps approach from the cave entrance, Wen Ning with the tub filled with fresh water, something he has insisted upon doing since it was purchased. At some point during each day, he cleans and fills it, even preparing a fresh sachet of herbs to help Wei Ying recover. Truthfully, even with Lan Wangji’s arm strength he doubts he could lift it as easily as the fierce corpse is able, and he is grateful for his thoughtfulness. 
“Than—thank you for waiting, Jiang-guniang,” he says after setting it down. “Popo is waiting to help us in the k-kitchen with preparing dinner.”
Jiang Yanli favors him with a smile. 
“Thank you, Wen-gongzi.”
“Ah, you c-can just call me Wen Ning,” he says, looking flustered as he often does when people offer respect to him. 
“Then you must call me Jiang Yanli.”
Wen Ning looks like he might protest, but she turns to Lan Wangji before he can, dipping into a proper and respectful bow. 
“A-Zhan, thank you for taking care of A-Xian. It is…”
Her voice cracks, emotions nearly overcoming her again. It takes her a moment to recover. 
“It is a relief to know someone else is here for him when I cannot be. I entrust him to your care.”
The formality, Lan Wangji realizes, is her approval of their union. Warmth spreads through him at her acceptance. 
“However,” she says, a slight smile on her face that is also somehow fierce. “I think you will agree with me that A-Xian deserves a real wedding, at Lotus Pier, as soon as it is possible.”
The image of Wei Ying sitting on a bed in Nightless City in his red underrobes, the joy of his waking mixing with the wish they were wedding robes… that Jiang Yanli wants to ensure they receive that, that their union can be celebrated, if belatedly, in the way Wei Ying deserves to be honored. 
“Yes,” he says softly. “I agree.”
She nods, clearly pleased.
“It will happen, A-Zhan; I’ll make sure of it.”
Lan Wangji has absolutely no doubt she will. 
She leaves with Wen Ning, and he remembers her intention to cool the soup Wei Ying so loves for the settlement. It will be a welcome meal for them all.
Though he could resume playing, Lan Wangji opts to sink into a meditative state instead, waiting. He doesn’t need to wait long, as footsteps that are almost stomps approach and enter the cave.
He is ready to stare at Jiang Wanyin disapprovingly, but the steps hesitate, becoming uncertain, on the way to the alcove. 
“He’s still resting,” Lan Wangji says before he can speak. 
Jiang Wanyin’s face does something strange, going soft for a moment as he gazes at his brother and nephew, the top of A-Yuan’s head just visible poking out from beneath the blanket. Then his expression shutters.
“He needs the rest, then?” he asks.
“Mn. He is recovering. He also was giving most of his food to A-Yuan before I arrived. He is finally eating properly.”
The muscles in the Jiang sect leader’s jaw clench, working as though he’s stopping himself from saying something—or, more likely, yelling.
“He always gives too much,” Jiang Wanyin says finally. 
Lan Wangji nods; he agrees with that assessment. 
“I want to bring him back to Lotus Pier.”
The announcement is unexpected, and he reconsiders his assessment of the man. 
“He will not leave these people.”
“I know that. The Wens too, of course.”
“They do not wish to be known as Wens,” Lan Wangji tells him, and watches Wei Ying sleep for a moment to be certain he won’t hear before continuing. “I believe they hope to take on Wei as a family name. They have not broached the subject with Wei Ying yet.”
Jiang Wanyin sits heavily in the chair his sister vacated, sighing. 
“He’ll do that thing. Where he belittles himself,” he says, his voice rough. “It’s like he believes all the awful things a-niang said about him.”
Because he does believe them, Lan Wangji is well aware. His anger at a dead woman is unbecoming, but it will likely never fade. She trained Wei Ying to see himself as worthless, as a charity case, when he was one of the best cultivators of their generation. Even without his core, he was still inventing tools to help the cultivation world that slanders and wishes him dead. 
“Not that I’m much better. He’s my brother and I fucking abandoned him,” Jiang Wanyin mutters. “And I accused him of abandoning me, on top of it. When—when he left a big piece of himself with me to protect me.”
It occurs to Lan Wangji that perhaps both Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli suffered their own childhood traumas associated with bad parenting, that this is perhaps just a variation of that which has led Wei Ying down his path of self-destruction through giving too much, through not valuing himself. His own troubled upbringing led him to value his clan and the Lan rules over his zhiji, to believe his identity must be tied up in being a perceived paragon of Lan virtue above all else. Theirs led to Wei Ying’s isolation as well. 
“You had no way of knowing,” he says. “Now that you know, you are trying to help him.”
What they do now does not absolve them of their wrongs, but it is a start. 
Jiang Wanyin’s jaw clenches again, then releases when he sighs. 
“I can’t undo the shitty stuff I said to him. You’ll come to Lotus Pier with him, right?”
“Of course,” Lan Wangji says, surprised that’s in question. “He’s my husband.”
He receives a nod in response.
“He’ll need bigger quarters, then, for you and A-Yuan. I could give him a-niang’s old quarters, but I don’t know if he’d want to live where she did. He deserves them as my head disciple, so maybe if I remodel them…”
Jiang Wanyin seems to be thinking out loud. 
“Wei Ying is still your head disciple?” he asks, having not realized. 
“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin says, then grimaces. “I never took him off the register. Kicking him out was for show, because he insisted. He never stopped being head disciple, but he probably doesn’t realize that.”
He likely doesn’t, knowing Wei Ying. Wei Ying, who still believes himself responsible for the fall of Lotus Pier, for the deaths that were a part of it. Even being head disciple, there will be much he cannot do, lacking a golden core. 
“I can help with his duties,” Lan Wangji offers impulsively. 
Jiang Wanyin blinks at him, startled, then smiles in a way that makes him look painfully young.
“Appreciated. He’ll… Well, he’ll need help with some of it. At least until Wen Qing figures out a way to help him.”
Lan Wangji realizes the Jiang sect leader is still hoping there’s a solution, that Wei Ying will again achieve the impossible. 
“She’s going to make a list of things she’ll need to get started,” Jiang Wanyin continues. “And I’ll work to get ahold of them.”
A-Yuan stirs before Lan Wangji can reply. 
“Loud,” he murmurs. “A-Die sleeping, shhhh.”
He wriggles his way out from under the blanket, somehow managing not to disturb Wei Ying as he does, then crawls off the bed.
“Jiang-shushu loud.” 
His voice is pitched in an almost theatrical whisper, and Jiang Wanyin snorts in amusement. 
“Okay,” he whispers back, also theatrical. “Let’s leave your a-die to sleep and go find guma, then.”
A-Yuan glances back at Wei Ying, then at Lan Wangji, who nods encouragingly. Then he turns back to Jiang Wanyin and holds his arms up expectantly. 
Jiang Wanyin stands, pulling A-Yuan into his arms as he does. 
“I’ll watch the kid. It looks like everyone else is busy right now.”
Lan Wangji simply nods in response. A-Yuan chatters softly to his uncle as they make their way out of the cave, leaving him alone with Wei Ying.
Jiang Wanyin’s absence is a relief. He finds it difficult still not to resent him for his choice to abandon Wei Ying, for the fact that Wei Ying’s core now rests within him, even for his desperate hope that his brother will somehow heal enough to form a new one. In far too many ways, it’s not enough, just as anything Lan Wangji does now cannot make up for his own failures.
He reminds him of Wei Ying’s mortality, as unfair as that may be.
Resentment will help nothing, may even be exacerbated now by the Burial Mounds, so Lan Wangji works to focus instead on the sensation of Wei Ying’s hair against his fingers, the weight of his head on his thigh, his soft breaths, and he is eventually able to fall into a sort of meditation until Wen Qing comes to fetch them.
“Jiang-zongzhu set up the tablets for the adoption rites, so we can start with those,” she tells Wei Ying once he’s awake.
Wei Ying stares at her blearily for a moment.
“Adopting A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji prompts gently. 
Wen Qing gives him a disapproving look. 
“He’s very excited, and your siblings can serve as witnesses.”
“Right. Sorry. Been a long day,” Wei Ying murmurs, then glances at Lan Wangji. “It’s still today, right?”
Lan Wangji brushes a lock of hair back from his face. 
“Mm. You slept only a few hours.”
Wei Ying melts into his touch, and he leans forward to brush his lips against his forehead. Wen Qing clears her throat and drops a bundle on the bed.
“Your sister also made Jiang-zongzhu go back into town and buy nice clothing for you and A-Yuan for the adoption rites.”
She indicates the bundle.
“So hurry up and get changed. She cooked up a feast, and everyone’s hungry. I think she’s determined to give you a proper wedding banquet.”
Wen Qing, ever brusque, turns on her heel and leaves before either of them can respond.
Wei Ying opens the bundle on the bed, blinking at the high quality clothing. The fabric, at a glance, looks black, but has threadwork in a deep blue and purple. It sends a message from Jiang Wanyin: Wei Ying is of the Jiang sect still. A red underrobe, new zhong yi, a red silk hair ribbon embroidered with little pink lotuses, and even new boots complete the package.
“Aiya, Jiang Cheng… How can I wear these?”
“You were not removed from the sect registry. He insists you are still his head disciple. 
“Oh,” Wei Ying breathes, taking a heavy seat on the bed, clearly overwhelmed. 
Lan Wangji wonders if he should tell Wei Ying the rest—that Jiang Wanyin intends to bring everyone at Burial Mounds to Lotus Pier permanently when it is feasible. But he will leave that to the Jiang sect leader. 
Instead he opens his qiankun pouch and pulls out the light blue robes he arrived wearing, which he hasn’t worn in days. If dinner is in part for them, he should dress appropriately, as well.
Changing takes little time, though Lan Wangji has Wei Ying sit for his hair to be combed and put back in its crown, as it came loose as he slept. 
The entire settlement is waiting for them in the hall when they enter, and though only Wen Qing has seen an official adoption rite, she demurs from describing it. 
“It was Wen Zhuliu’s, so it feels like bad luck to copy it,” she says when pressed. 
None of them argue. 
“We should have seen an adoption rite,” Jiang Wanyin mutters. 
Wei Ying seems not to have heard, focused on A-Yuan. He takes the child’s hand and leads him to the space where someone has set up an altar with his parents’ tablets, complete with sticks of incense and food offerings: three cups holding tea, water, and Jifu’s fruit wine, plates with small stacks of oranges and sweets. A fire burns in a small brazier in front of the altar, a stack of joss paper set nearby. 
For a moment, Wei Ying is completely silent, looking at the altar as though struck. 
Jiang Yanli breaks the silence. 
“You’ve never been able to venerate them,” she murmurs.
Lan Wangji understands suddenly: there was no place set for Wei Ying’s parents’ tablets at Lotus Pier, and so his husband has never been able to properly pay them respects—cruel, given their bodies were never found to begin with. 
“Thank you, shijie.”
His voice is heavy with emotion, and he kneels and gestures to A-Yuan to do the same. 
Wei Ying keeps it simple, first apologizing for being unable to do his filial duty for them, kowtowing before them. A-Yuan copies him dutifully, and this receives smiles from the others. 
“A-Die, a-niang, I want to introduce my son to you, Wei Yuan. He may not share my blood, but he is your sunzi. I ask you to help me protect and guide him, if you are able. This one will do a better job honoring you in the future.”
He murmurs something to A-Yuan, who bows as best he can.
“Wei Yuan greets yeye and nainai. A-Yuan will burn joss and incense and clean your altar. A-Yuan promises to be filial.”
They light the incense using the brazier, then burn joss together, letting the paper fall into the flame piece by piece.
Lan Wangji longs to join them, to thank Wei Ying’s parents for bringing him into the world, and Wei Ying turns to him as though hearing those thoughts. When his husband gestures, he steps forward to take his place kneeling beside him. 
“A-Die, a-niang, I also want to introduce you to my husband,” Wei Ying says, blushing as though they’ve not been wed over a week. “We completed our bows, but not before your tablets.”
They bow together, three times again.
“Fuqin, muqin, thank you for Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, bowing one last time alone. “I promise to honor him, and to protect him and Wei Yuan.”
They burn the remaining joss together, as a family, before standing. 
Jiang Yanli rushes forward to hug Wei Ying, who pulls Lan Wangji and A-Yuan into it. There’s a warmth to it that he isn’t used to, his own family reserved, and it surprises him as much as xiongzhang’s hug did. 
“Ah, I have a new didi and an adorable zizhi!” she says happily, then pulls at their arms as she releases them from the embrace. “We prepared a nice meal to celebrate, come!”
The tables are covered in dishes, the serving bowls and platters clearly heated by talismans to keep the food at an ideal temperature. 
“The guests of honor fill their plates first,” popo says insistently, clicking her tongue when Wei Ying gestures for her to go ahead. “A-Xian is still too thin!”
Wei Ying startles at the affectionate address and she smiles and pats his arm. 
Lan Wangji steps forward first, recognizing the futility of refusing popo’s demand. There is a bowl with chili sauce on the table, likely Wei Ying’s favorite kind. The dishes range from the familiar—the lotus root and pork rib soup he was introduced to earlier in a huge tureen, braised pork belly with mushrooms and bok choy, tea eggs, fried radish cakes, baozi, cucumber salad, sautéed dock root and millet with Sichuan peppercorns that would make his mouth numb—to the unfamiliar. He recognizes noodles cooked with what looks like water spinach and shaved carrot, mixed with, upon closer look, crisp-fried silkworm pupae. 
He doesn’t realize Wei Ying is beside him until he makes an intrigued noise. 
“Where did we get those? Shijie, did you bring them?”
“A-Ning found a copse of mulberry a few nights ago,” Wen Qing tells them. “He brought the silkworm cocoons to the aunties to unwind so we can sell the silk. He harvested the berries, too.”
“We—we cooked them with d-dessert,” Wen Ning adds. 
Though he is aware that silkworm pupae are commonly sold at market when silk is harvested, Lan Wangji has never had occasion to try them. Despite the fact that silk is harvested by the GusuLan weavers and used in robes for the clan, the production is kept out of the Cloud Recesses because the cocoons are boiled to extract the intact silk, killing the pupae in the process, and killing any creature, even an insect, is prohibited within the bounds of the Cloud Recesses. Presumably the pupae are sold in Caiyi, but meat is not a staple in his home. 
But he was raised not to be a picky eater, and insects are a viable source of protein, something sorely needed by the people living here. Wei Ying seems content to serve himself and A-Yuan a large helping, so Lan Wangji does the same, placing a wide variety of dishes on his own plate to sample, but avoiding the chili sauce for the sake of his palate. 
“I put in fewer peppercorns than I usually do,” Jiang Yanli murmurs to him. “I know you like milder dishes.”
He nods his thanks, and lets her press a bowl of soup into his free hand. 
She follows him with two more to place before Wei Ying and A-Yuan, then pinches her brother’s cheek as though he’s a child. 
“Eat the whole plate, Xianxian, and then you’ll get dessert.”
He is quietly pleased when Wei Ying plays along with a bright smile. 
“But what if Xianxian wants more?”
She leans forward and kisses his brow like a mother might. 
“Xianxian can have as much as he wants. Popo and Wen Ning helped me cook plenty. And dessert is mulberry millet pudding sweetened with honey, so I know you’ll like it.”
Then she turns to A-Yuan and favors him with the same treatment. 
“You too. Eat plenty so you can grow big and strong.”
“A-Die plants me with the radishes so I will!” A-Yuan says proudly, and those within earshot laugh. 
Jiang Yanli’s laughter is not unlike the gentle ringing of the bells the Jiang sect wears at their belts. She turns to him, patting his shoulder affectionately. 
“A-Zhan as well. Your strength is important. More than three bowls if you want.”
The reference to the rules of the Cloud Recesses is nostalgic, but not in a painful way. It is more a reminder that he will now uphold the rules as he sees fit, now that his home is Wei Ying. 
They are surrounded by familiar chatter, the smell of food of a more quality fare than any at the Burial Mounds have had in some time, and the warmth of family. 
He hopes this can be the sort of happiness that awaits them for some time.
----------------
In my culture, generally we don’t eat insects/bugs and often find it intrinsically disgusting. I’ve never eaten insects/bugs. However, my biases are not applicable to the culture I am writing into. My understanding from friends is that there are many insects and arachnids commonly eaten in China. A close friend of mine has eaten ant eggs, grasshoppers, and other insects. Another has mentioned tacos that involve insects as a common ingredient in Mexico. In China, markets often have fried scorpions on a stick, grasshoppers, and many other insects as street food for purchase.
Given life on the Burial Mounds involves a lot of scraping by, I’d imagine some of their meals involve insects, which culturally wouldn’t be unusual. Likely if there were insects in the Burial Mounds, eating them helped Wei Wuxian survive them. They’d be an important source of protein.
While silkworm pupae are often fried in peanut oil and eaten on skewers or like nuts, from my research, my friend believed the dish I concocted in here was believable. (I also researched what the taste and texture is, but decided not to include it.) She also said the dessert of mulberry millet pudding is something eaten in southern China, which I didn’t know—I just knew it sounded like it’d be delicious.
In terms of the millet, meta discussions of MDZS have involved the fact that millet was likely more common (and less expensive) than rice at rough time of the setting, so I included that.
My friend was kind enough to read for cultural sensitivity regarding the auspicious eight, adoption rites, and ancestor veneration, so I hope they read well. This is a chapter I was particularly worried about because of the cultural aspects, and I hope it reads well.
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