#because Ge could be mistaken as an actual name | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

argumentl · 3 years

Text

The Freedom of Expression Ep 58 - [NSFW] The truth behind the DIR EN GERY misprint, and a mysterious voice...

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of the Freedom of Expression. Joe, Tasai, welcome...Um..

T: Ah!

J: What is it?

T: No way!

K: Its 'Young Jump'

J: Ah, Young Jump.

K: I think you already know about this, but we put an ad on it like this *shows back page*.

J: Oh, looks great!

T: Yeah, it does. Very impactful.

K: Its good, isn't it?

T: Yeah, great impact.

K: There's something a bit odd about it.

J: Haha

T: Huh? Where?

J: Eh? Something odd?

K: Yeah, its a bit strange. There's a bit of a mistake.

J: Is the kanji for Oboro correct?

K: Yeh, and this is right, about the release on the 28th of April.

J: And Wenesday is correct, right?

K: Yeah, and the explosion screening schedule is ok.

T: Yeah, it is.

K: The ticket price info is also all fine.

J: Yep.

K: After that there's only this bottom section.

J:Yeah.

T: DIR EN...

T, J: GERY, haha.

J: Has a new band formed?

K: We screwed up.

J, T: Hahaha

K: Its hard to believe, right?

J: Incredible. I did not expect this..Dir en gery.

T: I thought it was like a trick or something.

J: Oh, to make it go viral or..?

T: Yeah, going with Dir en gery.

J: Kaoru, what was it?

T: We'll find out about it here.

K: It was a total mistake.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Seriously? Eh? Really?

K: Yeah.

T: Does that mean it was done on a hurry, if its a seroius mistake?

K: Yeah, I guess so.

J: Well, Tasai, you work for a newspaper, and I also work for Rolling Stone, so we understand this, but our work is handed in for checking, you know, proof-reading. And they do spot mistakes, but honestly, I have never seen mistake of this size before.

T: Yeh. This is at the level of 'accident'. However, there is a case for saying that we cannot attack this. What I mean by that is that we too make mistakes.

J: Yes, thats true. There is that. Well, this goes for magazines etc too, but if you do proof-reading within the organization, for example, if the writer writes an article, the editor will proof-read it, and they may intend to, but if everyone is really busy with loads of other work, they will run out of time. Then they will get it checked by an external proof-reader. Even then there are sometimes still typos left over.

T: Yeah, there are.

J: There are, right? Human error happens.

T: Yeah, like if I misspell a name or something, I can correct it on the digital version, but on paper it appears on every copy out there.

J: Yeah..

K: But like this?!

J: Yeah, we say this, but we've never seen a typo this bad. Like, I've mistaken small details in names and stuff before.

K: Yeah, like Young Jump becoming Young JumP, right?

J, T: Yeh, haha.

K: Not like this! *points to 'GERY'*

J: Haha, this is...

*Sound of strange voice occurs in background - On screen text: 'What was that voice?! One more time.. (Clip of strange voice re-plays) No-one during the filming heard this. Its a mystery voice'*

J: Tell us what happened?

T: Yeah, lets ask.

K: Um, we had the design made, and the designer made the regular logo and put it down here in this fixed spot, so it looked as if the logo was done, even though there was a mistake in it. At the time, I wasn't looking at the band name, I was looking at the overall design, and ths impact it had. Like this image of Kyo from RokumaykanGIG. My eyes were drawn to the best parts of the design. It wasn't really designed to emphasize the band name. Its designed to showcase this top part, so I, like, didn't see it. Die didn't even see it, and he normally checks these really carefully. Even if we miss something, he normally spots it straight away.

J: Ah, even Die didn't notice it! ???*1

K: Yeah. We were too busy checking that there were no mistakes in the tour schedule.

J: Yeah.

K: But the information is all correct, so if its just the band name with a mistake, well, maybe its ok.

T: This could become a really rare item in time to come.

J: Yeah, cause there isn't gonna be a misspelling with Dir en grey again after this. That point will be strengthened.

K: Not for a while yeah. A long time ago, we had a single out called 'Filth', and there was a mistake in the title of the song on the cover jacket.

T: Eh? So this is the second time this has happened to you?

K: Well...yeh.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, we occasionally make small mistakes *2, but...

T: This is big.

J: Can I suggest something? Good things come in threes.

K: Ah, terrible.

J: So there will be a third time to come, imagine it, it could be both the title and the band name with a mistake.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, what can I do about it now? If you buy the single 'Filth' even now, its still like that. So filth is spelled f-i-l-h..huh? h-f...um, it's..

T: ..t-h

K: f-i-l-t-h, but the i became f, I mean h. So because there were two h's I realised the mistake. If there really is only one h, it could be that they just made the letters look in that style, but they look the same to me.

T: Ehh? I want to line Filth up next to this magazine.

J: Yeah

J, K: Hahaha

T: Don't you have it here? Filth?

K: We do.

T: Lets put them out together!

K: When I saw this (*Young Jump*) though, well, I thought it was quite rare*3, it could become a talking point. If you take a bad thing in a smooth way, someone will notice, so I thought we could just go with it.

J: Brilliant!

K: And then I posted on Twitter, like 'Ooops'. And that was a photo of the actual magazine, so it really was like 'ooops'.

T: As soon as I saw your Tweet, I was like 'Huh?!' and I went to the convenience store and bought it. haha

J: Well, in that sense it is a rare item

T: Can we decide on the correct reading for this? How would you say it?

K: Ge-ri?

J: Dir en gery (ge-ri).

K: jeri? geri?

J: geri? jeri?

T: gari?

J: Its geri, right? Well, jeri is like..

K: In the basic form its geri, right?

J: Yeah. jeri might have to be 'Gerry' with two r's. Which is best Dir en jeri or Dir en geri?

T: Should we decide? Even though it doesn't really matter.

J: Yeah

J: Dir en geri sounds like a struggling country rock artist or something, haha. Dir en jeri has jellyfish vibes.

T: The official name: Dir en Gery (jeri). haha.

J: I want you guys to do a joke live show as Dir en gery. You could switch parts, like Kaoru, you could be on drums.

K: Ah, but we did kinda do that once, we changed parts on stage. I just made a load of noise.

J: Ahh, so you could do that as Dir en gery somewhere officially and play one song.

T: Ahh, thats a good idea.

J: Do a cover or something.

T: You could do ???*4

K: Er, no. haha.

J: Haha, this will getting bigger and bigger.

T: But I heard recently at the MeguroRokumaykanGIG screening, Kyo said that Toshiya used to play guitar a long time ago.

K: He was playing guitar the first time we saw him playing in a band...well, I don't know if he was playing it, or just waving it around a lot.

T: Yeah, Kyo said the stage was going wild.

K: Yeah, he wasn't playing.

J: So, when you guys switched instruments on stage, what did you do Kaoru?

K: Drums.

J: Oh, drums?

K: Thats the one I wanna try out the most.

J: So if you guys played as Dir en gery, Kaoru, you would be..?

T: Drums?

K:...Nah....*imitates playing the castanets*

J: Tambourine? Oh, castanets? So, it doesn't necessarily have to be the same instruments you play at the moment?

K: Yeah. As long as we play as a proper band.

J: Yeah, so Kyo could play the recorder..

T: Someone could hit the ???*5

J: Yeah, yeah. Oh, that would be good.

*The single Filth gets passed over*

K: I'll just get it out.

*K shows cover jacket to J*

J: Oh, here, right?

K: Can you see, there are two h's.

J: Yes. I see.

*K shows it to T*

J: The first h is a typo?

K: Yeah.

T: Its a bit difficult to spot though.

K: We didn't even notice, we thought it was just the design.

J: Yeah. Put them together now.

*K puts magazine and CD together*

J, T: Hahaha

K: By the way, it was the same person who designed both of these.

J, T: Haha

K: When he saw it he was so pained.

T: Its ok, ???*6

J: Ahh, well, it can't be helped though.

*On screen note: Again? (weird voice appears)*

J: Even if there is a spelling mistake, its conveying the atmosphere that is the main thing.

K: Yeah, thats the emphasis.

J: But on the other hand, you could say that as soon as 'Dir' appears, people recognise it as Dir en grey, even with this kind of misspelling. The name is that well know.

T: Hmm, yeh

K: Hm, well, yeh, if you look at it up to here. But for us, its impossible.

J: Well, I guess yeah. It goes for Rolling Stones too. For example, if the last n in Rolling Stones became an m, you wouldn't immediately spot it. If it came up all of a sudden, you would just think 'Ah, the Stones'. It's that kind of name recognition. You could see it in that way. But I didn't know it was the same designer who did it both times.

K: Our boss was pretty mad about it.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Really? I see.

K: He couldn't believe it.

J: Well, yeah. Its also the most important part.

T: Well, yeah, and cause its already in circulation.

J: Yeah. Well, everyone can keep it as a treasure.

K: Where's Kami?

J: Yeah, isn't he here?

Kami: Oh, Im here, I was just listening the whole time. People make mistakes, right?

T: They do.

Kami: This is just a mistake. So its wrong to point blame.

T, J: Yes.

J: Kami, have you made a mistake recently or something?

Kami: Im always making mistakes, and always getting into trouble.

J, T: Haha

Kami: As soon as you've made a mistake, it hurts, right?

T: Yeah, I know that feeling.

Kami: Yeah.

J: Yeah, the person who made the mistake knows it, you don't have to tell them.

T: Yeah, that hurts the most.

Kami: I bet if you made a mistake like this though, you'd get into big trouble.

T, K: Haha

Kami: I think you really would.

T: Well, heh, yeah. But if even Die overlooked this..its like a demon interferred..

J: Yeah, unbelievable.

K: But, anyway, Im taking it in a good way. Well, I mean, it's not good to take just any old thing in a positive way, but....its a bit like those remarks by Mori that we discussed recently.

J: Oh yeah.

K: Like how to move on with it.

J: Yeah, we can learn from that.

K: Yeah.

*Sound cuts out. On screen note: Suddenly, we were unable to record to voices. Was it linked to that sound we heard earlier?*

K: Um, the sound..

J: It seems as if the sound went off.

T: I wonder whether its to do with what we just talked about?

K: What, like, 'Stop this conversation?'

J: Haha, like from ths designer's perspective...'Please stop it!'

T: Haha, yeah, 'Please!'

J: So, what about the Oboro single?

K: So, we're at the last stage, just the mastering, and a little more discussion, and we're about finished. And then the packaging. Well, there's just a little bit longer till the 28th, about another month.

J: Well, Im looking forward to it.

K: Ok, lets finish here for this week. Thank you.

*On screen note: The voice that no-one, including the staff, heard during recording was recorded into the mic data.*

*1,4,5,6 Couldn't catch

*2, 3 Not entirely sure

To top

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫

23 notes · View notes

korissideblog · 3 years

Text

ᴴᵉʸ i already apologized to Dante, but I guess I also have to apologize to y’all. So… once again, sorry I did a kick flip so sick it made the tag ill. I’ll be sure to think of you all when I’m living a solitary life as a hermit in the forest who’s mistaken for the ghost of a witch.

uuummmmmmI also finished the jetsam fic last night 👉👈 so here you go bestys <3

@jetsam-kisa

Jetsam knew getting into some sort of activity with Aito would be a mistake. Usually the little creature was up to something malicious, and even if you couldn’t figure it out immediately, at some point something would take a sharp right turn and now she’s tricked you into being his accomplice for whatever his next cruel joke is. Aito hasn’t revealed what this trick will be, but it definitely terrifies him considering that they’re in the kitchen.

“It’s just that Mich’ gave me such a pretty skirt yesterday.” Aito had explained, her wiry tail wagging from side to side. “And both Ikuto and Haru said I should say thank you with a little gift in return!”

And so Jetsam (foolishly) agreed to help Aito make cookies. Aito had found the recipe and ingredients, all she needed help with was execution. Jetsam wasn’t sure if he was stressed about how little he could vet the ingredients, or if he was relieved because he was helping with so little- he couldn’t possibly get in trouble for just making cookies right? Right???

“So we have flour, baking soda… salt right here…” Jetsam mumbled, his usual plumes of smoke going up and dissipating into the air as he read off what ingredients they would need and making sure Aito got the right stuff. Aito sat on the counter nearby, watching Jetsam sort everything out silently. After making sure everything was in place, Jetsam gave Aito the thumbs up and Aito hopped off the counter to come help. “Could you preheat the oven-” Jetsam immediately recognized the fault in leaving Aito alone with a heat source and took it back “ah, no, lemme get the oven, you can start mixing th-” nope! Aito would probably be worse if he was left unsupervised with ingredients that someone would be eating, and took that back as well. “Ok then… I’ll preheat the oven, you can just… just stand there for a second.” he finally settled on, stepping away and quickly setting the oven before looking back to check on Aito and-

And she didn’t seem to be doing much. Just kinda standing around, scrolling through the phone that they were using to look at the instructions. Seeing as it was Aito’s phone, Jetsam didn’t see any reason to panic as he returned to Aito’s side. “Next we have to mix the flour, baking soda, and salt.” Aito said, scrolling up and down the instructional website in boredom. “Sounds easy, lemme get the thingies.” by ‘thingies’ Aito apparently meant measuring tools, and (with a nervous Jetsam’s supervision) measured out the dry ingredients and put them into a bowl.

“Have you started on the report for history?” Jetsam asked, starting to mix the wet ingredients together with a handheld mixer- much too afraid of something motorized being in Aito’s hands to let her help. “I know what I wanna write about, I just haven’t started.”

“Yeah, Haru made me start before we left class.” Aito responded vaguely, strangely not taking the opportunity to lightheartedly complain about her friend.“It's lame, but I’m halfway done.” she shrugged, hopping onto the counter and watching like a cat on a windowsill, her tail even swaying side to side as she watched the ingredients mix. “Now we add the chocolate, right?”

“Roawr”

“Meow?” Aito perked up and looked to the floor of the kitchen, Jetsam not far behind as Aito jumped down from the counter to greet their new guest. “Oh! Look who’s here Jetsam!” Aito smiled, picking up a small black kitten who had wandered into the kitchen. “Oh wait, You’ve never met little Jiji, have you?”

“No?” Jetsam said, not wanting to get in trouble for being seen with a pet in the dorms but… but it was just the smallest little kitten he’s ever seen! And Aito was just bringing him to him! “H-hello there sweetheart.” Jetsam hummed, carefully putting his hand out for the kitten to sniff as he realized that the kitten didn’t seem to have eyes- a terrifying realization when in relation to Aito “Can he see anything?”

“No, I think it was a birth thing though.” Aito said, petting the kitten fondly before putting him down again. “He needs to walk around a bit, get a feel for the space.” she explained as the kitten stood still for a second before realizing that Aito wasn’t going to pick him up again and running off to go explore. If Jiji ran into a few walls, Aito ignored the sound, and so did Jetsam. “I think he got out through my vent, I'll have to close it next time.” Aito shrugged, finding the bag of chocolate chips and opening it.

“Why was the vent open in the first place?” Jetsam asked, worried about Aito’s answer, but deciding that it would be worse not to know.

“Sometimes Haru locks his door so he can destress.” Aito said, pouring the chips into one of the measuring cups. “I need to be able to stop that as quickly as humanly possible.” he explained, not going into detail as Jetsam nodded, not wanting any more details. Aito poured the chips into the mix and let Jetsam mix it for her, again taking her place on the counter to watch.

“You named the cat after the Jiji sticker on my wallet?” Jetsam asked, suddenly realizing how quiet Aito was being (at least compared to the insane amount of talking she normally did) and wanting him to talk again.

“Mhm.” Aito responded, watching the dough spin around in the bowl

“It’s from a show you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I could show you it some time.”

“I’d like that.”

Jetsam could taste the silence in the room as he put the mixer down. He thought he was scared of an over excited Aito, but a deathly silent one was twice as agonizing. He let Aito get the sheet pan and spray it down, but decided to let her play with a small portion of the dough as he quickly divided the rest into even little balls, all spread across the sheet, with a small space for Aito’s.

When he looked up to the girl on the counter, she had her back turned to him as she messed with the dough. Aito felt eyes on his back and looked up, noticing that Jetsam was finished, and held up the plate she was working on.

The cookie dough was formed into a crude little heart shape, rough around the edges, and still needing some work. “It looks good, Aito-kun.” Jetsam said, not sure how well it would turn out in the oven, but also not willing to put Aito down when she looked so contemplative. She turned around and put the plate back down on the counter, as if to let Jetsam see what she was doing.

“You know they found a body…” Aito said, barely above a whisper as she carefully formed the dough “on an Arabian Peninsula…” Jetsam felt his heart beat quicken with nervousness as he tried to hide the larger clouds of smoke billowing from his mouth. “It was an archeological dig and… they think she’s 4000 years old- the bones that is- she was… they think she was 18 when she died.” Good lord- Aito-kun always tells her stories in the worst way possible. “I’m writing my history report on her. Her bones were all messed up- way too thin for her to do much. She was severely disabled and would have needed around the clock care… but… but they also saw that she had… she had a lot of cavities, and her teeth were falling out and it didn’t make sense till…” Aito paused momentarily, as if trying to remember what his hands were doing before he continued the story. “till they realized that she… she just ate too many dates.” He giggled, sharpening the bottom of the heart as best as he could. “They just loved her so much… they loved her to death.” Aito paused again, looking over his handiwork and immediately started poking it again, less out of a want to shape it, and more out of a need to do something with his hands. “They always say survival of the fittest and- and I think they’re right!” He said, her voice rising a bit in volume. “Humanity’s made it this far because we found out that what makes us fit for survival is love and compassion and empathy and community and- and…” Aito just stood there, collecting her thoughts as he tapped a rhythm on the center of the cookie, as if trying to make it beat on its own. “And I like things better when they’re heart shaped.” She finally finished, still tapping the dough, but calming down a bit. “Can we… um”

“We can make them all heartshaped, if you want.” Jetsam offered, pointing to the rest of the cookies. Aito simply nodded and finally removed her hands from the dough, frowning a bit at the messy edges, but not willing to reshape it as she moved it from the plate to sheet pan.

Jetsam showed Aito how to make the dough into a shape that would actually end up as a heart after the oven, and together they finished the sheet, Jetsam slipping in into the oven and turning back to face Aito. Aito still looked tentative, swinging his legs over the side of the counter, but a bit more confident than before. “You said you still needed to start on your report?” Aito asked, and Jetsam nodded. Aito hopped down from the counter. “I’ll be back.”

Jetsam followed Aito to the door of the kitchen, but stayed put as Aito continued down the hall to the dorm rooms. Aito returned a bit later with a paper, pencil, copy of their history book, and a cozy looking blanket. “You should start now. I need a nap.” Aito said shortly, turning away from the kitchen and into the common room. Aito laid Jetsam’s supplies on the adjacent coffee table and let him sit down before wrapping herself in the blanket and laying her head across his lap.

“Is this my copy of the textbook?” Jetsam asked, recognizing some of the graffiti across the well used pages. “This was in my dorm room.”

“Mhm.” Aito hummed, looking over the pages as well.

“My dorm was locked?”

“Yeah,” Aito chuckled, sitting up a bit to explain himself. “But all the doors kinda suck. If you know what you’re doing, you can get into any dorm you want without a key.” He said, flipping a few pages and ignoring the nervousness on Jetsam’s face. “Your door in particular is a bit harder though, if it’s any comfort. You have to point the handle perfectly vertical and knee it really hard. Easy once you get used to it, but I don’t exactly go around telling people these things.” He mumbled, tossing his arms over Jetsam’s legs and resting his head on his arms.

“Thanks?” Jetsam shrugged, mildly uncomfortable with the fact that Aito could just break into his room whenever… maybe he should invest in a deadbolt…

“But what do you plan on writing your report on?” Aito asked, closing his eyes and very clearly not planning to listen to Jetsam’s report. So Jetsam gave a quick summary of his ideas till he was sure that Aito was out cold (luckily she fell asleep quickly) and continued working on his report in silence till the alarm on Aito’s phone went off.

Aito immediately jumped awake at the noise, but grumbled and complained as he turned the alarm off. Aito yawned like a cat and stepped over the couch like it was nothing- and seeing how often she disregarded the proper use of furniture, she probably saw it as such. Jetsam was still sorting his supplies, as well as his (mostly finished!) report when he heard Aito mumble something along the lines of “oh I hate this part” and the sound of running water. Jetsam immediately sprung to the kitchen, only barely making it to the door before Aito reached into the oven with his BARE HANDS and pulled the pan out, before throwing it on the counter and immediately putting her hands into the sink, under the running water. “I hate this I hate ovens I hate heat I hate-“ Aito rambled on and on about hating this and that about the stupid decision he just made, leaving Jetsam in completely stunned confusion.

“Why didn’t you just??? Use the mits???” Jetsam howled, running over to inspect Aito’s reddened hands.

“Mitts? You use those for cold things?” Aito asked, as if Jetsam was the moron here.

“You… they’re called oven mitts, Aito-kun!” Aito started at Jetsam, as if finally putting something together

“Oh…”

“Oh…?”

“Oven mitts are kitchen gloves.” Aito hummed, turning the water off and reaching into the drawer that the mitts were kept in, wincing a bit as his still red hands made contact.

“What?”

“Yeah ah… mama calls them kitchen gloves and… and ours are made of cloth.” Aito explained, pulling out the silicone glove. “I thought… you know, I thought these were two different things.”

And suddenly Jetsam understood why that prehistoric 18 year old was so important. Everyone will always not know something, it’s inevitable. Maybe it was something stupid like what oven mitts were, or something less stupid like living. Nobody knows anything. One day fire may burn cold, or the sun just not rise, or our blood may not pump… and all we could do is be kind, and caring, and compassionate.

“We have to take the cookies off the sheet.” Jetsam advised, patting Aito’s shoulder as she returned the mitt to it’s drawer. “They’ll keep baking if we don’t get them on a cooling rack.”

And so, in a more comfortable silence then before, Jetsam and Aito moved the cookies to the rack, pausing only at the last one, the one Aito had made first. Jetsam was right, the shape didn’t survive too well in the oven, the tops of the heart looking more like a single hill and the bottom having lost it’s point, and yet Aito moved it without hesitation onto the rack.

“I like it.” He said softly, making sure it fit onto the rack with all the rest. “It’s a little messed up, but it’s still heart shaped.”

#Ohhh I just love jetsam so much <333 #Sillie little guy <3 #jetsam kisa #aito takao #bnha oc comeback #knha // kimi no hero academia #Kori stories

22 notes · View notes

seungmoroll · 3 years

Text

Turning Pages | Han Jisung

Word count: 3k

Genre & warnings: soulmate!au, fluff, character death

Requested: yes

A/N: this is inspired by the song Turning Page by Sleeping at Last. to the lovely anon that requested this, thank you for the request and sorry that it took so long for it to come out, hope you love it!

The wind softly runs through your hair as you sit in the shade underneath your favorite tree. The warm air embraces you, giving you a sense of comfort and safety. The book held in your hands has captured your attention for the last hour. It wasn’t uncommon to find you out by the tree next to the lake; it was your safe space. It was where you were able to separate yourself from the crazy world that you sadly have to go back to at the end of the day.

“Well hello there my little feather.” The sound of the familiar voices makes you slightly jump from your seated position. Clutching at your chest, you turn to face the intruder, “Han Jisung, you frightened me.” When you turn, instead of being face to face with Jisung, you see him hanging off one of the branches of the tree. As he climbs down, you close your book setting it aside, knowing that with him present, you won’t be able to read another word of it. Jisung settles down next to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. To this day, little stuff like this makes your heart flutter.

“What is my little feather doing out here by themselves?” Little feather was his nickname for you. It comes from the fact that your soulmate mark was a little feather, and when the two of you realized that you were each other’s soulmate, that’s when he started to call you little feather. “Well, I was enjoying my book before someone interrupted me,” you say as you playfully glare at him.

“Oh, well now that you’ve already been interrupted, you can focus all that attention on me.” Jisung cheekily grins at you as he attempts to lay down on your lap. Not letting him get away with his antics, you gently push him away. As a result, he plops his head on his hands, pouting at you. Rolling your eyes, “You know, I could always just go back home to read.”

“And yet you choose to read out here where you know I can easily watch you from my house.”

“Should I be worried that you’re watching me now?”

“Little feather, I’m always watching over you.” He spoke of nothing, but the truth. Ever since you were a small child you had been coming down to this tree, and for the longest time, you had never noticed the little boy that would watch you from his window, until he finally made an appearance in your life.

There was something off with Jisung, you could tell. Although he may not be outwardly showing it, you knew him well enough to know when he’s not telling you something. “What’s wrong?” The smile on his face fumbles for a quick second, but quickly returns to its position. “Nothing is wrong. What makes you think that there is something wrong?”

“Han Jisung, I’ve known you for quite some time now, and if you think that I can’t tell when there’s something wrong with you by now, then you are sadly mistaken.”

Putting his hands up in defeat, he says to you, “Ah, you’ve caught me, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. It’s nothing to worry about.” You give him a stern look, wanting nothing more for him to tell you what’s on his mind.

Unable to deny you, he slowly takes out what looks to be a letter from his pockets and gently hands it to you. Quickly taking from his hands, you scan over the document, dropping it as soon as you finished reading it. Out of instinct, you cover your mouth in shock, tears beginning to blur your vision. Jisung carefully gathers you in his arms, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“You can’t.”

“I have to.” Clutching onto Jisung, you let the hot tears run down your face. You couldn’t believe it. You knew that the chances of this happening were very high, but you had hoped that there was a chance for it to be avoided. Unfortunately, for the both of you, it was really happening.

“Oh Y/n, it pains me to see my little feather like this, but you know nothing can be done about this. You know that once somebody gets their draft letter that it’s a done deal.”

“I can’t lose you.” Separating from your hold, Jisung gently cups your face, making you look him in the eyes. “You’re not going to lose me, little feather. You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Jisung attempted his usual cheeky comment in attempt to make the situation more lighthearted, but the both of you knew that it wasn’t going to work.

“Besides, let’s look on the bright side, now that you know I’ll be gone for a long time, you’ll be attatched to me like this until I’m gone. And when I come back, you won’t ever want me to leave your side ever again.” Smacking Jisung in the arm, you ask him, “How can you be joking around like this? You know that you can get seriously hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. I won’t allow myself to, but now that I think about it, if I do get injured, they’ll send me home and I can have you care for me.” Raising your hand for another smack, Jisung stops the attack, “I’m kidding. Look, let’s not even think about stuff like that, okay? Let’s just enjoy the time we have together, and not worry about it. Please.”

And that’s exactly what the two of you did. Everyday leading up to Jisung’s departure, which happened to be two weeks after he told you, the two of you would meet up and do miscellaneous activities together. From rowing a boat in the lake to stargazing, from feeding animals to cuddling each other underneath the tree. The two of you wanted to make the best memories with each other so that you’d both have something to hold onto. Although, your family did not necessarily approve of Jisung, they let you have your moments with him, knowing that you would be in pain from the moment he left.

The night before Jisung had to leave, the two of you met by the tree for one last time for a while. When you had arrived, you saw that he had set up blankets for the two of you. He wanted to watch the stars with you, while holding you for one more time. He had even gifted you a new book, telling you that anytime you missed him, you could read the book and remember how much he loves you. That night, the two of you slept underneath the stars by the tree, in the arms of one another, dreading the following day.

The next morning, you had woken up before Jisung, using the last moments you had with him to admire his features. He was beautiful like this, and you couldn’t imagine the harsh conditions that he was going to be put through. When Jisung had woken up, the two of you laid in a comfortable silence, taking in everything. Once it was finally time for Jisung to go back home to grab his things, the two of you silently packed up and made your way to his house.

At his front door, before he went inside, he gave you a gently kiss. A kiss that held so much meaning behind it, that you couldn’t help it when your tears started falling. Jisung’s tears were also falling, mixing in with yours before the two of you parted.

Letting him hold you for one more time, you say, “You promise to write me whenever you can?”

“Of course.”

And with that, he takes your hands, and lays gentle kisses on each of your knuckles, and lastly kissing the little feather that laid on your wrist. Once he finished, he whispered, “I love you, my little feather.”

“I love you too, Han Jisung.”

When you had received noticed that you had gotten a letter, you had quickly snatched the letter from your father’s hand. Immediately running to your bedroom, you sit at your desk and quickly open the letter.

Hello my little feather, It is I, your one and only. I hope you are well and taking care of yourself. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. I’m doing fine, I even made a new friend. His name is Minho. He’s actually my senior and messes with me a lot, but I know that I’m his favorite junior. He’s looking after me, so no need to worry, okay? Oh how I miss seeing your beautiful face. I can’t wait for the day for me to come back and I can hold you in my arms again. I must end this letter here, but just know; I love you little feather. Your love, Han Jisung.

Clutching at the letter, you’re glad that Jiusng was safe. You didn’t really need the letter to know he was safe, as long as the little feather on your wrist was there, then you knew he was fine, but you couldn’t help the little concern you had for him.

And that’s how the following year went for you. As your life continued on, all you could do was wait to receive letters from Jisung, and every night right before you fell asleep, you would look at the little feather on your wrist, holding onto the hope that he was doing fine.

Dear little feather, It’s starting to get a little colder isn’t it? I hope you are staying warm, don’t stay out under the tree for long. I can’t have you getting sick. As for me, your love is the only thing keeping me warm out here. That and of course the group huddles we have, but nothing beats the warmth you give me. Oh, how I miss the warmth of your touch. Promise me that when I return, you’ll never let me go. Oh, what am I saying, it is me who won’t let you go. Anyways, I love and miss you little feather. Your dearest, Han Jisung.

Dear little feather, I miss you so much. It’s getting harder and harder everyday being away from you. To be honest, last night I cried while the others slept because of how much I missed you. I laid a kiss on my feather, could you feel it? I want nothing more than to lay a kiss on your little feather. Today feels a little bit different than the other days, and I’m honestly quite scared, Minho hyung says I shouldn’t be, but I just can’t shake this feeling that I have. Maybe I’m just being dramatic, maybe it’s because I’m lovesick and I just need your loving right now. I must end this letter here; they are calling for all of us. I love you, little feather. Forever and always, your soulmate, Han Jisung.

You were finally able to get a break in your day, and so you decided to relax down by the tree. As you were making your way to the location, you turn to check up on the Han household, however, a peculiar sight was in front of you. Two men in military uniform stood in front of the door. Slowing your pace, you watch as they knock against the door and Mrs. Han opens it. Upon seeing the men, Mr. Han shows up as well. The two military men then proceed to take off their caps and bow down to the Han’s and suddenly Mrs. Han is falling to the ground, but Mr. Han manages to catch her. The sight before you and the sounds of her cry was all you needed to know what it meant.

Hot tears quickly began to run down your face as you quickly made your way to the tree. It took you everything you had to not stay on the ground when you tripped on your path there. Once you had arrived at the tree, your legs grew weak and you dropped against the tree. Clutching at the ache in your chest, you let out a sob. You couldn’t believe it, but there was no way for you to mistake what that scene meant. There was only one way for you to confirm it. If you checked your wrist, you would know the answer, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know. If you looked and it confirmed your suspicions, then it meant the end for you.

Finally deciding to look, you slowly open your eyes to check your wrist. Your heart stops. Nothing is there. Han Jisung was dead. Your soulmate was taken away from this world. Taken away from you. You scream out in pain.

For the rest of the day, you had laid out by the tree and when your parents came out to search for you, they saw your broken-hearted figure and knew. They carried you back to your house, where you had laid bedridden for a month, lifelessly.

The Han’s had visited you at some point and as a whole, you had all mourned together. When they had left, they gave you a journal, Jisung’s journal. It took you two weeks after their visit to open it, and when you did the contents of it made you cry. Every page that you had turned was about you. It was a journal full of Jisung’s favorite things about you and his favorite memories with you. That’s when you made it your goal to live the rest of your life in honor of Jisung, until the two of you meet in your next lives.

You were running late again for the second time that week. If this were any other job, you probably would’ve been fired by now, but luckily for you, your boss likes you. As you briskly walk to your destination, you do your best to avoid bumping into those around you, though you do manage to get slightly pushed by a big man, causing you to bump into a tree. Finally arriving at your job, you let out a loud, “Sorry I’m late,” and proceed to slightly bow. When you rise up from your bow, you see your boss, Jinyoung, slightly roll his eyes at you. “Yeah, yeah, kid. Just get these books back where they need to be.” Smiling, you take the cart of books he referred to and begin to put them up. Aside from your boss, the other thing you liked about your job is that you were surrounded by books. The small bookshop that you were employed at was basically your second home. When there were no customers, you would pick a random book and read it until you finished it at the end of your shift. You recently finished a book called Turning Pages. It was about a person who had lost their soulmate to a war. It was one of your favorite reads so far. As you read it, the author’s words made it feel like you were experiencing their emotions as well. The fact that the two also had the same soulmate mark as you meant even more for you. You had made a mental note to purchase the book later on so that you could read it again.

As you are finishing up putting the rest of the books on the shelves, the bell to the door sounds, alerting the shop of a new customer. “Y/n, can you go help them, I’m a bit busy,” Jinyoung asks of you. Pushing the cart back to the front, you can see that the customer is a man, though you can’t get a good view of him until you’re closer. Reaching the counter, you ask the customer, “Hi there, is there anything I can help you with?”

Finally looking up at the customer, you can’t help but think that he’s attractive. “Hey, I was wondering if you guys had Turning Pages in stock.” You knew that there was only one copy left in the shop, it was the copy that you read. It still had the little sticky notes that you placed in them from when you were annotating the book.

“Yeah, in fact, we only have one copy left. Let me get that for you.” As you were getting the book for the customer, you did your best to take out all the sticky notes you left in it. Going through them, you realized that you wrote a lot more than you thought. When you reached the customer again, you were still taking out your notes. “Sorry about this, I just finished reading it and I sometimes like to leave notes with my thoughts in books.”

“Really? Then you don’t have to take them out.” You look at the customer in confusion. You didn’t know why he would want to leave your notes in the book. “I think it’s kinda cool that you wrote about it, and if it’s okay with you, I'd like to read those as well.” This was a first for you; you weren’t really sure if this was okay, but since he asked, then what else could you do.

“Uh, okay, but just letting you know now, most of these were just the first thoughts I had, and I have like zero experience with romance.” You instantly regretted saying the last part. Embarrassed, you begin to ring up the book for the customer. Placing the book into a bag and you hand it to the customer, who instead of thanking you says, “Little feather,“ while pointing at you. Taken back by the two words the man said to you, you clutch at the small mark on your wrist and say, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’ve had a little feather on your shoulder the whole entire time.” Looking down at your shoulder, he was indeed correct about the little feather. It must’ve landed on you when you were on your way to work. Gently picking it off your shoulder, you lay it down on top of the counter, even more embarrassed by the fact that it was there the whole entire time.

“I’m Jisung by the way.” Looking away from the feather, you see that the customer, Jisung, has his hand out for a handshake and that’s when you see it, the small little mark on his wrist Smiling, you take his hand, “Y/n.”

A/N: this was my first soulmate au so I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. my requests are open so feel free to send something in!

masterlist

112 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

Text

BeeTober 2020 Day 1

Cliff - Mid-Autumn Festival

It’s October and you all know what that means! Another writing event, where I will post a fic every day. Since the Untamed Fall Fest is happening at the same time, I combined the prompts! There’s a series on my AO3 where you can read all of these as well, if that suits you better.

This first fic is Mingcheng, and it will probably change everything, plot-wise, but like always, don’t ask me about it XD

I hope you enjoy this event with me!

Jiang Cheng has a bad feeling about this conference. Despite what everyone thinks, he is in fact able to read a room and what he reads spells trouble.

And going by the looks Jin Guangshan keeps throwing him it will come from him.

The conference is just drawing to a close and Jiang Cheng finally allows himself to relax—if only a little bit—when Jin Guangshan turns his eyes on him.

Jiang Cheng immediately stiffens again.

“There is one more matter to address,” Jin Guangshan says and Jiang Cheng feels relieved to see that he’s not the only one who suppresses a sigh.

“And what would that be?” Lan Xichen asks, when Jin Guangshan falls silent, clearly waiting for someone to inquire after that mysterious matter, and a cold shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s back when Jin Guangshan smiles at him.

“The matter of the Jiang Sect,” Jin Guangshan sweetly replies and everyone in the hall falls silent.

“What is the matter with my Sect?” Jiang Cheng asks with a slight bow and when Jin Guangshan looks at him like one might look at a particularly stupid child Jiang Cheng has to fight the urge to throw himself off a cliff.

Or maybe he’ll just throw Jin Guangshan off one, that should solve almost the same amount of problems for Jiang Cheng.

“You’re recruiting, and heavily at that,” Jin Guangshan says, just as Jin Guangyao nods in agreement. “One has to wonder if there’s a hidden reason behind that.”

Jiang Cheng works his jaw, before he gets up and bows low to Jin Guangshan, aware that all eyes are on him. And not all of them are friendly.

Jiang Cheng never did deal well with attention like this.

“There is no hidden agenda,” Jiang Cheng promises and then his petty streak makes an appearance. “I know Lanling Jin didn’t suffer the same losses, but Yunmeng Jiang nearly got destroyed when Lotus Pier was burned. I barely have any disciples as it is. I’m just trying to fill the ranks again.”

“And for what purpose?” Jin Guangyao asks him, clearly picking up on Jin Guangshan’s thread of thought.

“Yunmeng Jiang is one of the Great Sects. There is nothing Great about Yunmeng right now, and I’m just trying to rebuild it,” Jiang Cheng says through clenched teeth.

“Recruiting at this point of time seems suspicious. One could think you’re trying to replace Qishan When,” Jin Guangyao says, a polite smile on his face and Jiang Cheng wants to do nothing more than wipe it off.

Preferably with Zidian.

“I am not actively recruiting, though,” Jiang Cheng forces himself to say, because he can guess where this is going. “People come to me to pledge loyalty. I am in no position to send them away.”

“Even when they already have a Sect they belong to?” Jin Guangyao wants to know and of course this is the whole problem.

“I don’t question where my people come from,” Jiang Cheng admits. “If they are willing to be loyal, then I am willing to let them wear purple.”

“How can they be loyal if they already betrayed one Sect?” Jin Guangshan says and Jiang Cheng suppresses a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Nie Mingjue suddenly chimes in and when Jin Guangyao looks at him with much the same look Jin Guangshan just gave Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng feels his skin itch.

“People are falling over themselves to join Yunmeng Jiang. Even disciples who already pledged their loyalty to one Sect.”

“Ah, I see,” Lan Xichen says and stands up. “I don’t think that is much of a problem,” he goes on and Jiang Cheng inwardly shakes his head.

Of course he won’t think of this as a problem. Barely any Lan disciples came to Jiang Cheng after all. But his Sect is overflowing with Jin disciples and Jiang Cheng is honestly not surprised about that.

“Er-ge,” Jin Guangyao gently chides him and Jiang Cheng sees how Nie Mingjue works his jaw at the patronizing tone.

“I don’t see a problem with that, either,” Nie Mingjue says after a moment and Jiang Cheng is honestly surprised he is speaking up for him.

“But you should,” Jin Guangyao says. “I heard some Nie disciples defected as well.”

“As they should, if they can’t serve under me,” Nie Mingjue gives back without a beat and for once Jin Guangyao falls silent.

Jiang Cheng sees a dangerous glint in his eyes, and he thinks it might be better if someone interferes.

“Sect Leader Jin, I apologize if I offended you in any way,” Jiang Cheng says with a low bow. “But I am not actively recruiting and I am not doing background checks on my disciples at this time. Anyone who wants to serve me is welcome. I hope you understand the need to rebuild what was lost in this gruesome war.”

Jiang Cheng bitterly thinks back to his burned home, while Jinlingtai stands strong and perfect as ever and he wants to shake Jin Guangshan until his head falls off.

Besides, it’s not his fault that Jin Guangshan is such a shitty leader that his disciples are coming to Jiang Cheng in flocks. At this point, there are probably more Jin disciples in purple than any actual Yunmeng people.

Jin Guangshan narrows his eyes at Jiang Cheng, who keeps his bow low and respectful, even though he feels anything but, and eventually he waves his hand.

“Just see to it that your actions cannot be mistaken for anything but rebuilding,” Jin Guangshan warns him and Jiang Cheng suddenly understands that Jin Guangshan is afraid of him.

Jiang Cheng lost everything; his parents, his home, most of his Sect. His sister will marry into the Jin Sect and only the gods know what Wei Wuxian is up to these days and yet Jin Guangshan feels threatened by him.

It’s honestly a better feeling than Jiang Cheng has expected.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is on his way back to his quarters when Nie Mingjue stops him.

“Do you have a moment?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods, despite how uneasy he feels.

Nie Mingjue had seemed okay with the fact that a few of his people decided to serve under Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng knows better than to trust it.

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng stiffly replies and when Nie Mingjue steps closer, Jiang Cheng is acutely aware of the fact that Nie Mingjue is a very imposing man and that Baxia is a very huge saber.

“Is it true? Did some of my people join your Sect?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng squares his shoulders.

These people came to him in hopes of finding a new home, and he will not sell them out to their previous Sect Leaders.

“And what of it?” Jiang Cheng snaps but Nie Mingjue only smiles slightly at him.

“Nothing,” he easily replies. “I meant what I told Jin Guangshan. If they found someone more worthy to follow than me, then I am fine with that. I only wish the best for my people and if I am not it, then I would always encourage them to go find it.” Nie Mingjue tilts his head slightly before he adds, “Unlike some other people.”

“I see,” Jiang Cheng replies, because he doesn’t quite dare to trust this.

It is still very fresh in his mind that the other three Great Sects now have a sworn brotherhood, while Jiang Cheng and Yunmeng Jiang are standing all on their own.

“I am looking for seven disciples,” Nie Mingjue says and holds out a small scroll to Jiang Cheng. “Those are their names. I try my best to give the families of my disciples an account of what happened to them during a fight, but I can’t find these seven. Maybe they are with you?”

“I will not sell them out to you,” Jiang Cheng hisses and Nie Mingjue seems honestly taken aback by the venom in his voice.

“I am not asking you to. If they are with you, then that’s okay with me. I just want to know if I have to tell their families that they are dead or not.”

Jiang Cheng mulls that over for a few moments before he snatches the scroll out of Nie Mingjue’s hand.

He quickly unrolls it and scans the names, before he rolls it up again and puts it inside his own robe.

“I recognize four of them,” he finally tells Nie Mingjue. “They are alive and well.”

“And the other three?” Nie Mingjue lowly asks and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I haven’t heard their names. I’ll have to ask around.”

“Would you?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Do I have a choice?” he bites out and he almost—almost—softens at the surprised look on Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I might be a newly appointed Sect Leader but I am well aware of the consequences refusing you would bring for me. Especially with the support you have in your back.”

“You have nothing to fear from me,” Nie Mingjue says with a small frown. “You have support as well.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” Jiang Cheng sarcastically says. “I have your support, of course. Is that the reason you and your two sworn brothers decided to forget about me?” he can’t help but ask and Nie Mingjue rears back as if Jiang Cheng had hit him with Zidian.

“We didn’t mean to—,” Nie Mingjue starts but Jiang Cheng doesn’t let him finish.

“It doesn’t matter, it is done after all,” Jiang Cheng bitterly mutters. “I will see if I can find your missing disciples, Sect Leader Nie,” he then says with a mocking bow. “And please be lenient with me in the future.”

“Jiang Wanyin, we didn’t mean to.”

“And yet you did,” Jiang Cheng gives back. “You isolated me and now I am without support. Jin Guangshan must really love this. No wonder he comes after my disciples now. Thanks to you, they are the only support I have left. Now, if you would please excuse me,” Jiang Cheng finishes, before Nie Mingjue can find his words again, and he simply turns around and leaves.

He can’t even find it in him to care that he was rude. They don’t respect him anyway, one bow more or less won’t change that.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is in the middle of the preparations for the mid-autumn festival, when a disciple finds him.

“Sect Leader Jiang, Sect Leader Nie is requesting to see you,” he politely says and Jiang Cheng let’s out a frustrated sigh.

This is the first major holiday since Lotus Pier burned, since Jiang Cheng lost everything. He had planned to spend it with the only remaining family he has left, had hoped to spend it with his disciples who will hopefully turn into a new family for him, and he was not prepared to have this all interrupted.

“Fine,” he still sighs. “Send him in,” he instructs the disciple, not even caring that it is incredibly rude that he didn’t go out to greet Nie Mingjue himself.

Well, better the other Sect Leaders learn to manage their expectations early when it comes to Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue greets him when he enters Jiang Cheng’s study, and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he gives back, but Nie Mingjue waves him off.

“None of that, please.”

Jiang Cheng frowns but he doesn’t argue with Nie Mingjue.

“What brings you here,” he asks when it doesn’t seem like Nie Mingjue is going to talk, his gaze wandering around the study, and Jiang Cheng has a quick second to regret meeting him here.

But then remembers that this is Nie Mingjue, who is righteous and steadfast in a way not a lot of the other Sect Leaders are, and he reassures himself that he has nothing to fear from Nie Mingjue.

He would know it if Nie Mingjue wanted to harm him and his Sect, Jiang Cheng is sure of that.

“I have a proposal,” Nie Mingjue thoughtfully says but then stops himself. “But first I wanted to ask if you had any luck finding the other three disciples.”

“I did,” Jiang Cheng nods and gets the scroll. “Two of them are dead. I’m sorry. They died wearing my colours, which is probably why you didn’t find them. The third one is with me as well, and she is alive and healthy.”

Nie Mingjue scans the names and Jiang Cheng sees honest sorrow when he reads the names of the two deceased ones.

Jiang Cheng knows the names of all his disciples, makes it a point to learn them, even though due to the recent influx of them he is a little bit behind, but he didn’t think anyway else bothered to.

Jin Guangshan certainly doesn’t seem the type, and neither does Lan Xichen, if he’s being honest.

“Thank you for finding them,” Nie Mingjue softly says and then quickly puts the scroll away.

“Don’t mention it,” Jiang Cheng gives back, more threatening than he actually means to, but this is making him uncomfortable now.

He shouldn’t be thanked for simply being a decent human being.

“Now, what’s the proposal?” he gruffly asks, desperate to change the topic and Nie Mingjue straightens up.

“We were wrong to leave you out of our sworn brotherhood,” Nie Mingjue starts with and Jiang Cheng already wants this conversation to end.

He doesn’t need to be reminded that despite whatever Nie Mingjue is saying right now, they did leave him out of it.

“And I know we can’t make up for it, because it’s already done, but I have an idea.”

Jiang Cheng hesitates for a moment, but then his curiosity wins out. He wonders what Nie Mingjue thinks he can do, given that he is already sworn brothers with Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao and a brotherhood of four is bad luck.

“Speak,” Jiang Cheng orders when Nie Mingjue falls silent again.

“You can swear brotherhood with Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan,” Nie Mingjue proposes and Jiang Cheng shakes his head, because what?

“I know it’s not the same, since neither of them are Sect Leaders, though Jin Zixuan is the heir. But it would still strengthen your standing. It would also help you to protect Wei Wuxian, because I have seen the greedy look on Jin Guangshan’s face when it comes to the Stygian Tiger amulet, but I have also seen how Lan Wangji looks at your brother. I doubt he would let anything happen to him, if he’s given a chance.”

Jiang Cheng has to admit that Nie Mingjue is right about that—he had noticed it as well—but he still can’t help the bitter huff he lets out.

“And you get out of this without any bonds,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says, because it didn’t escape his notice that there was no mention of the Nie Sect in any of this.

“I wouldn’t,” Nie Mingjue gives back and puts a box on the table.

“What is this?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, eyeing the box with suspicion.

“A courtship gift,” Nie Mingjue easily replies and Jiang Cheng freezes.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I am not. A sworn brotherhood can only get you that far, especially since you can’t swear with any other Sect Leaders. So I am proposing a marriage.”

“Between me and—?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, because he can’t quite believe that Nie Mingjue would sell Nie Huaisang like this, but on the other hand he can’t see Nie Mingjue accepting a spouse either.

“Me,” Nie Mingjue says, much to the surprise of Jiang Cheng and then chuckles. “I wouldn’t sell Huaisang. If I was proposing a marriage with him, he would be here.”

Jiang Cheng gapes at Nie Mingjue because this is so far from anything Jiang Cheng had imagined that he can barely wrap his head around it.

“You must be joking,” he finally manages to say, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“I assure you, I am not.”

Jiang Cheng allows himself to imagine it for a few moments; not only the support this would bring to him, but also the marriage in itself. He can see himself falling in love with Nie Mingjue—he’s a catch, really, if you don’t mention the qi deviations—but Jiang Cheng knows better than to expect the same in turn.

“I will not enter into a loveless marriage,” Jiang Cheng declares, thinking back to his own parents, but Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“You are a very attractive man, Jiang Wanyin. And I admire your strength, your resilience and your biting tongue, and how you all use it to hide the fact that you love your family and people. I can see myself falling in love with you, but that is what the courtship is for, is it not?” Nie Mingjue gives back and effectively renders Jiang Cheng speechless. “And even if it doesn’t work out, I doubt I’m going to live to old age. You’d be free of me sooner rather than later.”

“You actually mean it,” Jiang Cheng finally chokes out, deciding to ignore the last part for now, and Nie Mingjue pushes the box towards him.

“Of course I do. I do not have the time for lies and deception.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng agrees, because that he actually noticed before.

Nie Mingjue is the most no-nonsense person Jiang Cheng has ever encountered, and he knows Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng reaches out for the box with shaking hands, and he lets out a startled laugh when he opens it.

It’s full of nails.

“I thought you could need some funds to rebuild Lotus Pier. This was the easiest to carry with me,” Nie Mingjue sheepishly admits and Jiang Cheng chuckles again.

“You’re not actually wrong,” he admits and closes the box again. “If we’re doing this, there will be a proper courtship, Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng dares to say, figures if this is really happening then they better get used to this sooner rather than later, and Nie Mingjue nods.

“I wouldn’t want anything else,” Nie Mingjue replies with a smile and Jiang Cheng is startled to see dimples appear on his face.

He didn’t know about that. It could be a problem.

“Stay for the mid-autumn festival,” Jiang Cheng finds himself saying and is taken off guard when the smile grows in its intensity.

“With pleasure.”

~*~*~

When Nie Mingjue insists that they send a lantern off together, Jiang Cheng is not as surprised as he would have been a week ago.

Nie Mingjue stayed the whole week in Lotus Pier, helping with the rebuilding, but also actively courting Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he didn’t think Nie Mingjue even had one romantic bone in his body.

He had been wrong.

Sending off a lantern together, like only lovers would do, does not actually come as a surprise.

When the lantern drifts off, taking Jiang Cheng’s wish with it, he can’t help but to look over at Nie Mingjue.

The other man is already looking at him, and there’s something so soft in his look that it makes Jiang Cheng’s knees weak.

Jiang Cheng fights the instinct to run away and hide from that look—if this is going where Jiang Cheng finds himself hoping it will go he will have to get used to this, he’s sure of that—and instead he leans up on his toes to press a kiss to Nie Mingjue’s cheek.

Nie Mingjue freezes in surprise, Jiang Cheng can feel it, but he also puts a hand to Jiang Cheng’s waist, keeping him close and Jiang Cheng finds himself enjoying that more than he maybe should.

“I didn’t think my wish would be fulfilled this quickly,” Nie Mingjue mutters, much to Jiang Cheng’s embarrassment and he hides his face in Nie Mingjue’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m not used to getting what I wish for either,” he gives back and then feels how Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Well, then it’s something we can get used to together,” Nie Mingjue decides and Jiang Cheng nods.

He’s actually looking forward to it.

Link to my ko-fi on my sidebar.

#bt writes #beetober2020 #untamed fall fest #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #marriage proposal #courtship #sworn brotherhood #jc is a good sect leader #and nmj knows to appreciate him for it

189 notes · View notes

satan-chillin · 3 years

Text

in this lifetime and the next

Zhou Zishu was no better during waking hours, sparing what he could in reminiscing about what he actually recalled from his random dreams of a faceless little girl. She was dressed in hues of blue, sometimes pink with a touch of red. Effortlessly, he filled out the blanks among her vagueness: dark eyes in the shape of almonds, a button nose, pinchable cheekbones, and bow-shaped lips; altogether, they would crinkle adorably when her face lit up with a beam or when she stuck out her tongue in impertinence.

Albeit on a young girl’s image, those were exactly two of Wen Kexing’s trademark expressions.

(Or, the times Zhou Zishu gets to witness how Wen Kexing handles children and catches extra feelings. ™)

Also available in Ao3

Despite Wen Kexing’s frivolity on matters that had been outside his two-decade revenge plot, in hindsight, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he was good with children.

He raised A-Xiang on his own, in a place where he could have hardly taken care of his own barely adolescent self, and, all things considered, she grew up functional and eventually found a good man who cared and loved her. Soon, she would be a mother who wouldn’t let her children experience the same tough childhood that she had.

Zhou Zishu had seen Wen Kexing take care of the younger disciples, a couple of them orphans who had found their way in the Four Seasons Manor. Some were found by Wen Kexing the same way he had found A-Xiang, and while as the Manor Lord the last say would always be Zhou Zishu’s, there was of course no question of acceptance. He wasn’t heartless to drive away children in need of home and guidance, and he definitely didn’t have the heart to turn his back on what Wen Kexing considered important.

The first time he witnessed him interact with the youngest juniors, Zhou Zishu believed he was seeing a rare sight of Wen Kexing, the one capable of nurturing and caring selflessly for the vulnerable. He took them under his wing and let them follow him like a herd of chicks to his mother hen, instilling the fundamentals of values and discipline yet at the same time wanting to give them a chance in an unfettered childhood. He hadn’t had a proper one himself, he had said in that deceptively casual tone of his when he made a request to him to give the young ones half a day to spend in leisure alone. Zhou Zishu hadn’t been a child who played often—he was an odd kid—but he was a bit hurt that Wen Kexing had to ask this of him when he knew what the answer would be.

So, because he was a little frustrated and overwhelmingly happy at the tenderness and compassion Wen Kexing had for their disciples who might as well be their children at this point, Zhou Zishu flicked his forehead in reproach for needing to ask, before embracing him and inhaling the scent of his hair. They’ve never been good with words, that much was clear, but Zhou Zishu liked to think that they were making progress on that front. He still had a lot of things to learn about Wen Kexing, after all.

And about himself too, apparently, as Zhou Zishu came to realize one evening.

He woke up alone, and after wandering around the manor found Wen Kexing by the gardens carrying their newest unofficial recruit, a boy of almost five who seemed like a toddler given how small he was. Wen Kexing cut an ethereal image with his pale white hair under the moonlight, with a boy sleeping deeply in his arms as he hummed a faint tune.

Zhou Zishu had no idea how long he was standing at a distance, mesmerized at the serenity of the sight and sound. Wen Kexing turned to him with a curve of a smile on his lips, gesturing mildly at his burden. Zhou Zishu approached him as if in a trance, led by an ache that he dared not examine. Not yet, anyway.

“A-Chen can’t get back to sleep,” Wen Kexing murmured once Zhou Zishu was close enough to admire how natural he was with a slumbering child. “Nightmare.”

Zhou Zishu was half-tempted to ask whether he was woken up by similar reasons as well but settled with silence. Any words now would be poor enough to break this moment. He glanced at the boy’s unruly hair and did not resist the urge to smooth it down gingerly. How peculiar that he hardly felt self-conscious the longer Wen Kexing watched him, watched the gesture, that soft, fond smile of his not leaving his face.

He followed as Wen Kexing wordlessly led the way to one of the juniors’ shared quarters. Gently, as if he had done it several times, he laid the boy down and tucked him in without rousing him.

It was a sedate pace, with Wen Kexing’s arm wounded around his, on their trek back. Zhou Zishu had no notion of the late hour, which, while knowing they both would have another early day ahead, he frankly didn’t care about. If he decided to pull him towards the direction of the same garden they came from, Wen Kexing would happily follow him, that he knew. Though with the full moon pleasantly out, Zhou Zishu had no idea who would be leading who, especially when he had the feeling of a man bewitched by an unearthly creature in white.

“Lao Wen,” Zhou Zishu whispered, pausing to hold Wen Kexing’s hand to his lips in reverence. “Lao Wen.”

“A-Xu,” Wen Kexing whispered in return, none of his usual note of teasing. “A-Xu, let’s go to sleep.”

Gladly, Zhou Zishu let himself get lured away in the night.

...

They were quite known around town at this point; those two young masters from the local manor, as they were generally called, or the Manor Lord and the Second Master from a couple of traders who had dealt with them personally twice or thrice and knew them by their names. To the wizened elderly who lived for years in town and who did know better, they were dearly known as the xīn hūn fū fù.

Wen Kexing thrived in the odd bits of friendships he formed, from the tavern owner to the traveling peddler. He was a novelty, with his striking appearance of long white hair that contrasted against his dark eyebrows, the jut of his cheekbones, the cute button of his nose, and the fullness of his lips that Zhou Zishu had taken the time to familiarize with. A face Wen Kexing deemed once a treasure from the gods.

Zhou Zishu must have amassed a huge amount of good karma in his last life to be the blessed person to see it every day the moment he opened his eyes in the morning and when he closed them at night.

He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t appear shameless to ogle at him in broad daylight among the present light traffic of people. The unhealthy amount Zhou Zishu spent on staring at Wen Kexing recently was a tad concerning, not to mention that he honestly had no idea what brought it on.

“A-Xu?” Rubbing a finger on his wrist, Wen Kexing leaned closer than was appropriate, imploring. “Is there something wrong?”

Whatever excuse Zhou Zishu might have given would fall short. To his luck, Wen Kexing looked past him, his attention abruptly captured.

There was a little girl by the post, hunched into a ball by herself and was close to unnoticeable. Wen Kexing was crouching by her side in an instant, coaxing her to speak with his kind murmurs of encouragement. Zhou Zishu felt useless standing there, not even sure what to do with his hands. In the next minute, short arms were reaching for Wen Kexing, and he obliged with lifting her to his level.

“A-Xu, this little guniang is A-Li,” he introduced. “A-Li, that’s A-Xu. You can call him da-ge instead of uncle because that makes him feel old,” he added cheerfully.

Zhou Zishu rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. I’m not the one with white hair,” he groused. A-Li, with her small fist, reached for a stray lock of Wen Kexing’s hair and held it in wonder, still sniffling. It was incredibly adorable, and as quick as a blink did the memory of that dream-like evening drifted at the forefront of his mind.

Seemingly catching himself, Zhou Zishu gestured silently at the teahouse behind them so A-Li could be seated. Wen Kexing cajoled her into speaking about what happened by cooling the steaming baozi and tea she was fed. It wasn’t long until she was talking about getting separated from her mother around the market that was merely two streets away.

A-Li had taken an immediate liking to Wen Kexing, hardly lacking in questions once her curiosity overtook her shyness. Wen Kexing listened to her patiently, finding the stories of a roughly six-year-old interesting. It helped put her mind at further ease before they went searching for her mother.

Zhou Zishu wished he could say the same, wished he could say that he wasn’t distracted instead by the way Wen Kexing smoothed A-Li’s hair, his slender fingers expertly looping on her braids and rearranging them neatly. Zhou Zishu could imagine him doing the same for A-Xiang all those years ago, perhaps not as deftly from a much younger Wen Kexing who kept tangling her hair on the comb and with A-Xiang protesting when he had pulled too hard.

Unbidden, a different image presented itself in his head—or not so different, he supposed, not when it featured Wen Kexing but this time there was a different little girl in teal whose dark hair he lovingly combed and braided. Once done, she’d smile that familiar impish smile that spelled trouble and… and…

Zhou Zishu blinked, shaken out his reverie by Wen Kexing’s voice that told him they better start looking for A-Li’s mother before sundown. A-Li refused to part from Wen Kexing, hence her tiny hand clutching his as they walked. She was an observant child than expected, however, and had mistaken Zhou Zishu’s lingering stare in their joined hands as something else. She grasped Zhou Zishu’s palm, determinedly keeping him to her opposite side despite her wariness of him.

Touched at her consideration, who was he to deny her? And how could Zhou Zishu deny himself this peculiar but pleasant sensation that wormed in his chest upon realizing that it was something he could get used to?

It would remain in his thoughts, brewing for hours since their successful return to the manor, and by then Zhou Zishu would begin to have a semblance of understanding at the particular sentiment that tended to well up at the idea of Wen Kexing and children.

Later, there would be another silent inquiry on what was preoccupying him in the form of fingers intertwining with his. Zhou Zishu would rather reach from behind Wen Kexing, making a place for himself by his shoulder, against his skin a promise of an answer soon.

...

It was the dreams that caught him off guard, disjointed as they were that Zhou Zishu initially believed they were random images in his head as he slept, until they started to create an outline of a pattern.

There was always a child in his dreams.

The first occurrence could be explained by the recent incident with A-Li, and, sure enough, she was also there, merrily playing with another girl whose back was on him. Zhou Zishu already forgot the randomness of that dream once he awoke.

The second one did not have A-Li anymore, though the unknown girl was around, running across the yard that resembled the one in Four Seasons Manor. She was strangely distant from where he found himself standing, too far for Zhou Zishu to make out her features aside from her bouncing pigtail buns atop her head for every step she took.

When a similar scenario was shown to him for the third time, Zhou Zishu was surprised at the name that was at the tip of his tongue. He did not hear himself uttering it, though it was enough for the unknown girl to run towards him, anticipation building the closer she got. He tried not to be dismayed when he woke abruptly without seeing her face.

He was no better during waking hours, sparing what he could in reminiscing about what he actually recalled from his random dreams of a faceless little girl. She was dressed in hues of blue, sometimes pink with a touch of red. Effortlessly, Zhou Zishu filled out the blanks among her vagueness: dark eyes in the shape of almonds, a button nose, pinchable cheekbones, and bow-shaped lips; altogether, they would crinkle adorably when her face lit up with a beam or when she stuck out her tongue in impertinence. Albeit on a young girl’s image, those were exactly two of Wen Kexing’s trademark expressions.

It became a pastime of a sort, contemplating how Wen Kexing’s physical characteristics would look like on a younger appearance, leading him to remember Zhen Yan with an odd vividness. Ironically though, it wasn’t a memory of Zhen Yan that started to bleed into Zhou Zishu’s sleep—oh, the boy was almost identical to Zhen Yan, alright, but the shade of his eyes and the sternness that belied them were different. Different but familiar, a fact that had Zhou Zishu barely tempering down that powerful surge of clarity.

Both the girl and the boy were the perfect images of what his subconscious thought his and Wen Kexing’s children would look like—and Zhou Zishu yearned, had been for a while. He yearned as strongly as he had yearned for his zhi ji and living a peaceful life with him. He must have been a greedy man, to want more than what was already given to him against all odds.

Zhou Zishu already had his mismatched family with Wen Kexing in the form of Chengling, A-Xiang, and by extension, Weining, and yet he couldn’t help but long for an addition that was purely theirs, impossible it might sound. Zhou Zishu wanted a daughter who would inherit Wen Kexing’s grins and a son who would be as stalwart as Zhou Zishu.

It turned into a wish buried deep down, and lest it threatened to overwhelm him, something he would only allow on the surface during the moments he was around to see Wen Kexing with Chengling, their bond turned comparable to that of a father and son than that of a master and student; or when Zhou Zishu was privy to watch Wen Kexing fuss around a heavily pregnant A-Xiang, not exactly faring better than Weining when it came to keeping A-Xiang on strict bedrest and monitoring her diet with her due date closing in, much to her utter frustration over her husband and older brother.

After A-Xiang bore triplets, Zhou Zishu’s wish stopped being a well-kept secret anymore. It would be forever burned in his mind, perhaps, the picture of Wen Kexing carrying the second of A-Xiang’s babes and lulling him to sleep, awed and adoring like he might cry in happiness.

“A-Xu,” he called for him with a notable giddiness, not even glancing up from the infant. “Look at this baobei. He’s the most well-behaved among his brothers. I think he likes my voice.”

Likely, Zhou Zishu mused. Wen Kexing did have the kind of voice that children find mellifluous. Zhou Zishu idly traced his finger on the babe’s forehead, to his wispy hair, then back to the line of his tiny nose until it was blindly grasped by small fingers.

“A-Xu, try carrying him.”

He was not given a chance to respond before the infant was passed to him. Though alarmed at the sudden transfer, he cradled the babe’s neck at the crook of his elbow with Wen Kexing’s support. Zhou Zishu froze when the baby hiccuped and sniffed, and promptly eased in relief when he did not react to him.

It was a tad difficult to scowl at Wen Kexing when he was looking at him in delight, with a wide grin and a wistful look in his eyes. Zhou Zishu grumbled half-heartedly, though there was a telltale heat creeping up his neck. Sighing, he rocked the babe slightly. He might as well practice knowing A-Xiang and Weining would require all the aid they could get in handling their three newborns.

Weining was the one who was run ragged taking care of his three sons and a recovering A-Xiang who had more complaints of getting distressed over a finicky husband than the three babes she had to feed thrice each. Weining was glad to have Chengling’s eager assistance in bathing and cleaning the three, and with his terrible job at babysitting—or generally keeping the three children entertained, really, else they would wail the house down and, consequently, their own father—the task was up to Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu. Wen Kexing could be quite creative, especially when it involved Senior Ye who had stopped by a week after the birth without knowing of it before coming. Suffice to say, Senior Ye was roped into assigned duties as well and was not able to escape them for another month.

By the end of each day, it would all be the five of them thoroughly exhausted, Chengling and Weining more often than not passed out. Zhou Zishu would also find himself fighting to keep his eyes open late at night before remembering that Sanyu was the one who would wake past midnight and would cry if not rocked in his bassinet.

Tonight, though, he was beaten to it by A-Xiang who stood by their cradles. Her previously wan complexion began to shift into a healthier one these days after several long rests. She hovered by her sons, gracing them with an affectionate smile. She might no longer be the childish young woman Zhou Zishu met years back, though traces of her youth remained, merged with the kind of maturity that was motherhood.

A-Xiang has been around with him for as long as Chengling, and Zhou Zishu couldn’t help but think that one of his children had grown up too fast in front of his eyes. Soon, it would be Chengling, and a part of him knew he would rue when that day came.

“Why are you still awake?” A-Xiang demanded once he caught him by the door. At his startled blink, she pulled him away to close the room behind her. “They’re fine. I made sure Sanyu won’t bother his brothers. And us.” She huffed. “If you say you don’t mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Okay.” Zhou Zishu cracked a smile. “And you? How are you feeling?”

“If A-Ning and gege have to tell me to sleep again, I’ll take my children and run away with them in the mountains.” She harrumphed. “They keep telling me to rest when they need it just as bad!” she exclaimed, her fondness and concern unmistakable. “Old man Ye at least is happy to see me up and about.”

“Yilian peed on Senior Ye once,” Zhou Zishu told her. “With his trauma, he’d rather pass the kid to the mother.”

A-Xiang glowed with pride before eventually bursting into fits of giggles that had him chuckling as well.

“That old man better stick around for a few more decades. I want to see his reaction first to your and gege ’s children!”

Zhou Zishu choked in his own spit, coughing harshly. A-Xiang took pity on him, patting his back somewhat roughly; smacking him, actually—and was that a triumphant smirk?

“What? You think I don’t notice you sighing longingly when gege’s holding a kid? I am very observant, Zhou-ge.” She reveled on his dumbfoundedness, beaming. “Besides, if it wasn’t for me, you two won’t be together.”

Zhou Zishu wouldn’t exactly attribute that to her, but whatever. “You noticed,” he muttered.

“You’re not being subtle anyway,” she said. “So why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“Have children! Your silly boy will love brothers and sisters, you know.”

While he recognized A-Xiang as an adult, Zhou Zishu still preferred not to talk about this with her. He thanked whoever deity was out there for the dimness outdoors or he wouldn’t hear the end of it if she noticed his flush.

“It’s… complicated.”

“Is it?” A-Xiang retorted, unconvinced. “Huh. You’d think you two old men already have the babymaking down to an art—”

“A-Xiang!”

“—that it’ll come easier for you two.” In a fit of insightfulness, she asked, “Did gege tell you he doesn’t want them?”

“No. I mean, it’s not a subject we’ve discussed so I don’t know if it’s something he’d like to have or not.” There was a large possibility of Wen Kexing not wanting them, in spite of how he was with children in general. “And in case you missed it, we’re both men.”

“So far, the only problem I see is you’re not communicating with gege.” A-Xiang lifted a finger to his face before he could protest. “Now, about the obvious one, have you already searched for ways?” She must have seen how lost Zhou Zishu was feeling, given the way she stomped down her foot. “You’re telling me you have access to that armory but have not once thought of checking it for answers? Zhou-ge...”

Zhou Zishu raised his hands in surrender. “Alright. Alright, I see your point.” It was beyond seeing her point, in fact; so he was an idiot for not thinking about it before letting himself imagine various scenarios of illogical proportions, what about it? Zhou Zishu’s head was buzzing with possibilities.

A-Xiang tugged on his sleeve. “Talk to gege, okay? Don’t assume what he’ll say. You know him better, but I’ve known him longer. He’ll listen no matter what.”

...

In the end, it was Wen Kexing who sought him first, slipping next to Zhou Zishu in a late afternoon and laying his head to his shoulder. A bit of tilting and Zhou Zishu was nuzzling a head of white hair, his arm wrapping automatically around Wen Kexing’s back.

“A-Xu, do you think we’ll be good parents?”

“Chengling turned out alright, and A-Xiang isn’t so bad.”

Wen Kexing grinned lazily. “Chengling was already a sweet boy before he became our disciple first. A-Xiang… yes, she isn’t so bad.”

Zhou Zishu snorted. “I thought I’d hear a stellar compliment to the person who raised her. You did well with her, Lao Wen, now it’s her turn to do her best to her own children.”

“I did what I could for her then, but this time, if...” Wen Kexing trailed off, inching closer to Zhou Zishu that he was practically on his lap. “If I’m given a chance to raise another child, I'll give my all a thousandfold.”

There was no room in Zhou Zishu for doubt, though it warmed his heart to hear the words aloud. “We’ll have a spoiled kid, won’t we?” he asked lightly.

“That’s a given, of course. No child of ours should lack for something.”

“Ah, they’ll be a menace.”

Wen Kexing pouted. “A-Xu’s a tiger parent so he’ll handle their discipline, but you can’t stop me from pampering them with their father.”

“If they turned out to have your personality, get ready to deal with them. I have practice, but you don’t,” Zhou Zishu pointed out, tucking a lock of Wen Kexing’s hair behind his ear delicately. He paused with a thoughtful frown. “If it’s a girl and she inherits your features, I’m not looking forward to fending off suitors.”

“Who says you’ll fend them off alone? I’ll join you.” He made a grimace. “But if she turns out to be a great beauty because of you, we better prepare against a horde of—ow!”

Zhou Zishu swatted his thigh playfully, settling him comfortably on his lap. “Laying it a bit thick there, but yes. We won’t marry her off until she’s thirty.”

Wen Kexing nodded sagely. “And not until the person who wants her hand has proven their capabilities against the both of us.”

“Individually or together?”

“Both.”

“... She’ll be an old maid, Lao Wen.”

“And she’ll still be our daughter no matter what, A-Xu.” Gratified, Wen Kexing loosely wrapped his arms around Zhou Zishu’s neck. “But we can divide the responsibility equally if she has a protective brother. He’s going to be skilled in martial arts and leadership and beautiful like his father; strict when the situation calls for it but is a perfect gentleman like his other father.”

“Lao Wen.”

“Hmm?”

“You do realize we’ll be fending off nuisances on both fronts?”

In their present proximity, Zhou Zishu could see the manic gleam in Wen Kexing’s eyes at the prospect of, well, not so much of a fight but definitely a challenge. The faint glow of the setting sun reflecting off of Wen Kexing did not help one bit with Zhou Zishu’s overflowing endearment.

“A-Xu,” Wen Kexing called, touching Zhou Zishu’s forehead with his and leaving a hair’s breadth. “Since I met you again you make me wish for things I used to dare not even think,” he whispered. “So ask me.”

Zhou Zishu readily complied. “Lao Wen, will you have children with me?”

He took Wen Kexing’s smile for the answer that it was and closed the rest of the space between them. Zhou Zishu learned that he was an entranced man, in this lifetime and the next.

...

He could name each flower that bloomed all year in Four Seasons Manor, though at the start of spring there was a single flower in the shade of blue that Zhou Zishu did not recognize.

Soft, fragrant petals met his skin, and the scent lingered even as he threaded his fingers through Wen Kexing’s flowing mane of white.

Later, Zhou Zishu would dream of Wen Kexing surrounded by the very same blossoms, their smell and hues of blue mingling with white, and at a distance, the breeze carried the faint sound of children’s laughter.

#shl fic #shan he ling #tian ya ke #tyk #word of honor #fanfic #fanfiction #zhou zishu #wen kexing #wenzhou #gu xiang #cao weining #zhang chengling #domestic fluff #big wenzhou family

27 notes · View notes

drunkserval · 3 years

Text

A Fresh Canvas: Incomplete Preview

Quite some time ago I did a silly little thread on Twitter, and I’ve always wanted to take that and actually make something out of it. Well it was a little harder than expected, but it’s coming along!

When I have the entire thing done I will be uploading it to AO3, but for now it seemed seasonally appropriate to at least drop this.

I wanted to have this posted yesterday but festivities kept me busier than expected! Story is below the cut. Keep in mind that this is still technically a rough draft, and will receive its final beta pass before the full story hits AO3.

(Tentative) Title: A Fresh Canvas Fandom: Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by MXTX Rating: G, No Warnings Apply Summary: Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are neighbors in the same modern apartment complex who, despite looking similar enough to be mistaken for each other, couldn’t be any more different. Or so they think.

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

Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were neighbors in the same apartment complex. They lived on the same floor, in the same hall, and were often mistaken for one another due to this proximity combined with how similar their appearances were.

But there were key differences, as both would readily point out to their neighbors. Shen Jiu’s hair hung shy of his shoulders while Shen Yuan’s was shorter and lighter in tone.

And still the mix-ups kept happening, particularly if they were at some distance or facing away. The misunderstanding would very rarely last past the first glance since Shen Jiu would snap and take immediate offense, and Shen Yuan would just sigh and say, "Sorry, wrong one."

Shen Yuan had no idea why Shen Jiu got so offended over it. Surely he didn’t look that bad, come on!

The neighbors eventually started learning to look at the clothes first--or to at least look for Shen Yuan’s thick-rimmed glasses.

Both men carried and dressed themselves so differently. Shen Yuan dressed in hoodies and jeans--well, if he was planning on going any further than the mailbox, that was. Otherwise why bother changing out of pajamas or sweatpants?

On the other hand, Shen Jiu didn’t touch anything that wasn’t from a known designer.

Shen Jiu spent proudly--and why shouldn’t he? Because he at least earned his money!

That Shen Yuan kid down the hall? Rumor was that his parents were paying his rent and he'd never had a real job in his life.

But because he never went out, Shen Yuan was one of the only people still hanging around the apartment complex when Shen Jiu went around knocking during a major holiday.

In Shen Jiu’s arms was a box containing two fluffy black pups.

Shen Yuan’s eyes widened at the sight of them and he completely forgot to greet his neighbor until Shen Jiu cleared his throat. The dogs were like little storm clouds with feet and stubby tails, staring back at him with big black eyes. One started wagging its tail with such vigor that its whole back end wiggled about.

It took Shen Jiu a moment to find his voice as he followed, such was the state that his neighbor had chosen to answer the door in. Hideous cucumber-print pajama pants, a tacky anime shirt covered in snack crumbs, and unkempt hair had greeted him. But the continuous movement of the box in his arms reminded him of his mission.

“I found... ” Shen Jiu shifted the box in indication as Shen Yuan shut the door behind them, “these, out by the garbage.”

Shen Yuan blinked as the other passed by him, “Have you tried calling any nearby shelters?”

“Of course I have,” Shen Jiu scoffed at the implication that he was so simple. “You try getting a real person on the phone today, though. It’s impossible. I could only leave messages.”

Shen Yuan put a finger to his lips, “Oh, right. Today is…” Glancing at a wall calendar almost as ugly as his shirt he nodded, “Right. Right.”

Did this kid ever so much as leave the building? Shen Jiu was starting to wonder. Shen Yuan dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed in the latter part of the daytime. And he hadn’t realized it was a major holiday. And then there were the countless odorous takeout boxes covering every available surface in his apartment.

Shen Jiu wrinkled his nose but still asked in spite of his rapidly growing doubts, “You don’t know anyone who can take these little mutts in for a day or two, do you?”

Shen Yuan shook his head and heard Shen Jiu sigh. His neighbor set the box down to give his arms a rest… but Shen Yuan couldn’t seem to rip his attention away from one of the pups. It hadn’t stopped staring at him, or shaking its fluffy little behind, for a moment.

“What if we take them in?”

Shen Jiu’s tone was flat, “What.”

Shen Yuan picked up the excited little pup and it immediately started wiggling in his grasp. Not struggling, however--just trying to get closer to his face, paws waving in the air and its little pink tongue darting out to reach for him even though it was still well outside of range. He had to fight back the urge to laugh at the silly little storm cloud.

“The building allows us to have one animal per unit, right?” Shen Yuan shrugged, “so what if we each took one, even just long enough to find them new homes?”

Shen Jiu frowned. Taking in a dog, or really any animal, had never been on his agenda. He liked his nice clean apartment and intact furniture unlike a certain someone. Plus he was more partial to cats. He moved his gaze from the overexcited animal back to the box. Though the pups looked identical on the surface this one was clearly the calmer one. It looked up at his scowling face but put forth no such ridiculous display… thank goodness.

Who knew? Maybe Shen Yuan’s idea wasn’t so bad. And if it was, it was only a temporary arrangement, in the end. He might be able to get rid of the animal as soon as tomorrow if it was truly intolerable.

Tentatively, Shen Jiu reached out to pick up the dog…

And felt tiny teeth close around his fingers.

Jerking his hand backwards, Shen Jiu sneered down at the animal. “What, you ungrateful little beast!”

Shen Yuan finally stopped cooing at his own pup to look over and said, “Maybe he doesn’t like your cologne?”

“And what’s wrong with my cologne?” Shen Jiu snapped, voice raising.

Stepping back, “Nothing, nothing!”

“It was a gift, you know!”

Shen Yuan barely avoided tripping over a haphazard stack of game cases as he kept moving away. “P-perhaps it’s just too strong for a dog’s nose, that’s all!”

This time Shen Jiu moved quickly, snatching up the dog by its middle before it could get its ridiculously tiny muzzle around anything, and he stared directly into the animal’s eyes.

“Do that again, and I’ll put you back out in the cold where I found you. Understood?”

The dog stared back at him, placid and indifferent… until its tongue darted out and licked the end of his nose.

“...good enough.”

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

It was a few days before the two of them crossed paths again.

It’d seem they both had decided to keep their newfound pets and they were both out that day to take the dogs for walks.

The air in the park was warm, so they sat themselves on a bench to enjoy it for a bit longer and soak up some of the sunlight that was so rare that time of year. Shen Jiu’s pup sat like a sentry at his feet while Shen Yuan’s pup curled up on his lap the moment he sat down.

It was through the ensuing conversation they realized they both gave their dog the same name by sheer coincidence.

One was too lazy and the other was too stubborn, so neither changed it. At least they’d bought different-colored collars. But this brought to light a new revelation, and Shen Yuan just had to ask…

“How did you come up with it?”

“It was just the first thing to come to mind,” Shen Jiu had explained, “from something I’ve been reading, probably.”

"Wait, you read that too!?"

As he suspected! That name was from one of the top-rated web novels that year, from its stallion protagonist: Luo Binghe!

Shen Yuan couldn’t imagine someone as outwardly prim as Shen Jiu reading trashy webnovels, but it turned out to be true. It was just a quick, easy way for him to kill a few minutes of downtime at work, Shen Jiu reasoned in his defense.

Whenever they met up from that point forward, Shen Yuan talked his ear off about his various grievances with Proud Immortal Demon Way.

‘Villains that dig their own graves but don’t bother finishing! Women that lead the protagonist on a three-chapter long subplot just to get to their lewd scenes, only to never see them again! And every single character lost all of their intelligence when the protagonist came around!’

And yet he had nothing but praise for said protagonist… almost excessive praise.

Shen Jiu is annoyed at first but he starts enjoying the company. Which is good because the dog turns out to be a menace.

Well, both dogs could be counted as menaces, just in different ways.

Bing-mei (as they come to call him) would start whining so pitifully when Shen Yuan shut the door between them, thus he often just gave up and took the dog with him whenever it was feasible.

Bing-ge, on the other hand, broke his toys within days, climbed around on furniture he wasn’t allowed on--sometimes when Shen Jiu was looking right at him, too--he barked, he scratched furniture, he tore up pillows.

Despite all the trouble he was causing for his master, Shen Jiu would no longer entertain the idea of giving him up. Not after Bing-ge tore up three separate muggers on three separate occasions and growled at the person who kept taking his parking space until it never happened again.

But the biggest takeaway from their conversations, for Shen Jiu, wasn’t webnovels or dogs. It made him start to realize how lonely he'd been.

The only other person he really spoke to was halfway around the world for their work and they only spoke a couple of times a month. Now that Shen Yuan was around, Shen Jiu actually started to have things to look forward to besides the monotony of work--knocks on the door, long walks with the dogs, the occasional cup of tea afterward on colder days...

Shen Jiu was never the sort to be up-front with his feelings, so he found a way to show his gratitude by helping Shen Yuan with his confidence issues. He started encouraging him to go out more, and to put a little more effort into his looks when he did. This morphed into helping clean up his squalid apartment since Shen Jiu could barely stand to look at it when he came over.

Months later, Shen Jiu’s recommendation had helped Shen Yuan to land an entry-level job. That, and a steady habit of going out once a week, gave them something else to do and talk about.

Progress was slow, but visible. Shen Yuan seemed a little less awkward in public with each passing week.

One night they were leaning on Shen Yuan’s balcony. It was a night of celebration, for he’d just earned his very first promotion, and Shen Jiu had brought over wine for the occasion.

He found himself leaning closer to Shen Jiu, telling himself it was just to get a better look at him in the dim light of the city night. His focus wasn’t the best even when he was sober after all. Yet Shen Yuan didn’t stop. And when Shen Jiu turned to look at him in confusion, and their lips met, he didn’t withdraw for several seconds.

Neither did Shen Jiu.

Shen Yuan tried to flee as soon as he realized what he’d done only for Shen Jiu to pull him back saying:

"Don't run, take responsibility. We talked about this."

#svsss #svsss fic #mxtx #modern au #bingpup #shen jiu #shen yuan #jiuyuan

46 notes · View notes

laughtermagick · 4 years

Text

Hell: Everything Is Made Up & The Points Don't Matter Anyway

The "traditional" image of hell for most folks today looks like this: creative torture in a sulfuric lake of fire ruled by a pitchfork-wielding horned red Devil. The concept of hellish afterlife is present in many religions, but the details differentiate dramatically, and what may seem nightmarish to one culture can honestly sound comically ridiculous to another. In fact, some of the very early Christians might laugh to hear how hell is now being portrayed in Western culture. "Hell" as we think of it today didn't exist when Christianity was first founded.

There are four different words in the original languages of the Bible that were later mistranslated into the single English word "hell". Here's the original words and their meanings:

Sheol (Ancient Hebrew)

Every single time the word "hell" appears in the Tanakh (or the Old Testament), the real word being used is "Sheol," which means "death" or "grave". For many ancient Jews, there was absolute nothingness after death, and even worse, there was no more blessed awareness of God. This is where the modern Christian concept of hell being "total separation from God" comes from. The soul didn't exist apart from the body, and when someone died, their breath/soul/consciousness didn’t go anywhere: it just vanished.

After military defeats and political subjugation for millenia, Jews began to change their view on the permanence of death. Around 200 years before Yeshua (aka Jesus), the Israelite nation was longing for justice. They revived an even older worldview (that of Iyov [Job] in the Tanakh): Evil has been allowed to run amok, but has very little time left! God will surely intervene to bring forth the "Kingdom of God," a paradise right here on earth. Furthermore, God will resurrect everyone who's ever died (moral AND immoral) in order to dote on the righteous and totally rub it in the faces of all the evildoers.

Yeshua put a new spin on this concept: Actually, the Kingdom of God would be literally created simply by people returning to the two greatest mitzvah (commandments) in Jewish scripture: a deep love of God and dedicatedly loving all human beings. Yeshua was especially concerned for the poor, the outcasts, the marginalized, the immigrants - a total OG SJW, and definitely not someone preaching about Christian hell.

Hades (Ancient Greek)

It's important to note that the Greek underworld wasn't merely "Greek hell". There were designated places for bad souls (Tartarus), good souls (Elysium), really good souls (Isle of the Blessed), unremarkable souls (Asphodel Meadows), and even hopeless romantics (Mourning Fields). The word "Hades" occurs 10 times in the New Testament. Sometimes, the authors were even directly quoting scripture from the Tanakh, but they were writing in Greek, so they instead translated Sheol to "Hades," the name of the Greek god of the underworld. They were simply referring to where everybody goes after death: the grave.

Tartarus (Ancient Greek)

Remember how Tartarus is the place where Hades puts all the bad souls? This word only appears once in the New Testament: "For God did not spare the angels who sinned; on the contrary, he put them in gloomy dungeons lower than Tartarus to be held for judgment." What an interesting example of ideas cross-pollinating between cultures! The author was referencing Hebrew scripture (which originally said "deeper than Sheol") while also referencing Hellenic religion. The author was culturally Jewish, but he was writing this for gentile Christians who were very familiar with Hellenic ideas about afterlife.

Gehenna (Ancient Greek)

The word most often translated as "hell" in the New Testament (although it only appears 12 times) is "Gehenna". Gehenna is the name of an actual place located just outside of Jerusalem. "Gehenna" is the Greek version of the Hebrew word "Ge Hinnom," which literally meant "Valley of Hinnom." You see, the Valley of Hinnom has a dark history. Without going into too much detail, let's just say there were once rituals to evil gods that had a taste for babies. Later, the area was a landfill used to burn all the trash from the city. There aren't many other options for a place formerly designated for grisly human sacrifice, I guess.

When Yeshua occasionally seemed to speak of "hell," the word sometimes used (when not "Sheol") is actually "Gehenna." He was referring to the notorious valley that many Jews believed was the most desecrated dumping ground on the planet. Jews had even created some lore around Gehenna being a kind of purgatory; however, the longest a person could remain in Gehenna is 12 months, which is not even close to eternal suffering.

So, where did our current ideas about hell really come from? Largely, the book of Revelations (trippy AF and very, very open to interpretation) and especially the Apocalypse of Peter. Whereas Revelations was accepted by early Christianity as being scripture, the Apocalypse of Peter was definitely not. This is understandable, because it's even more batshit-crazy than Revelations. It describes hell as being... well, pretty much exactly how we imagine it today. It was incorporating all kinds of pagan sources and Greek philosophy, making a Frankenstein's monster of horror stories. And it gets really, really in-depth about the specific tortures assigned for different kinds of sins. I wouldn't be surprised if the writers for the "Saw" movie franchise were reading the Apocalypse of Peter for inspiration. The book was banned entirely in many churches, but this wasn’t the only "Apocalypse of-" book in circulation at the time, and those writings permanently implanted the idea of hell within the Christian religion.

The eternal torments of hell were not taught by Yeshua - it emerged much later among gentile converts who had preconcieved notions about afterlife. All these ideas about hell that were developed over the past 1,600 years are being retroactively tied back into the original scriptures by unaware Christians today. Hell started as fanfiction and got mistaken for canon.

#hell #religion #mythology #christian mysticism #jewish mysticism #jewish mythology #christian mythology #Q&A

80 notes · View notes

nonstoplover · 4 years

Text

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 2.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.7K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (a different one than this written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 1.0, the original idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage.

"Really?" He muttered to the device in his hand in disbelief. The closest one was about an hour away. It would take forever for a breakdown truck to come here for him.

He contemplated waiting for a little while, see if it went back to normal, maybe he could drive to the garage himself if the situation got better. The two sides in his mind reasoned against each other non-stop as he tried to figure out what was the best solution.

In the deep thinking he was doing he didn't hear the sound of an approaching vehicle from behind him until the image of it in the rearview mirror caught his eyes and the engine's roar entering his ears couldn't be mistaken.

He watched the slightly worn-out jeep get to him frozen in his seat, the idea to somehow stop it and ask the driver to tow him to the garage forming in his head but he did nothing to carry it out, still surprised by the sudden appearance of another car on the road.

The jeep passed him with reduced speed before eventually pulling up short in front of his car. Timothée's eyes widened as the car door opened and someone jumped out of the vehicle. His fingers shakily searched for the handle so he could get out on the road as well.

When he straightened his back and his eyes fell back on the approaching person he was taken aback by the sight. A beautiful girl around his age wearing a well-worn pair of jean shorts and a baggy, retro t-shirt, a worried expression on her face.

"Is everything alright?" She spoke up, rambling on without a pause, not even waiting for a reply from the boy. "I saw you parking here and I was thinking maybe you're just taking a break from driving but I was like, it's better to check if something's wrong."

Gosh, stop rattling, (y/n) thought to herself. You're not making a very nice first impression right now.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Timothée answered subvonsciously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before realising what he had just said, then swiftly shook his head and corrected himself. "I mean, no, not everything's fine. There's a little smoke coming out of my engine hood and the closest service station is quite far and I don't really know what to do."

Hearing the boy answer with a similar amount of gabbling slightly calmed the girl down, he probably found the situation quite odd likewise.

"Can I look at it?" She pointed at the car.

"Look at...?" He frowned in confusion. Why would she want to look at it? "I mean, sure, if you wanna."

"Great!" She half-exclaimed, already making her way towards the car, opening the car hood, her torso disappearing in it fully in no time.

Timothée watched her shocked, he was sure that the process would've taken a minute or even more for him, still the girl did it like it was nothing extraordinary.

"Okay, I think I know what's the problem, and lucky for you I happen to have the needed equipment with me," she straightened back up, turning back towards the boy.

He watched her pass him on her way back to her car and after a little packing around she got out a toolbox from the trunk and made her way to the other car again, swinging the tools in her hand like it's no big deal that she kept such things in her car.

She casted a glance at the brown haired boy, a chuckle erupting from her throat when she saw the expression on his face.

"My dad owns a service in my hometown and he taught me how to repair the most common problems," she explained, placing the box down on the ground as she reached the car. "And he has always insisted on me carrying around a toolbox in my own car in case anything happens."

Timothée felt his jaw drop to the ground in surprise and was quite thankful that the girl had already turned back towards the engine with a tool he could have sworn he had never seen in her hand, this way not seeing his reaction.

In his mind flashbacks of high school and even college parties and talks played non-stop as he watched her work. All his life, at least the part where dating was already a subject, he always told everyone that if he had ever dated a girl, it'd be an independent, smart and skilled woman. Someone who could fix anything whether it was changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And as it seemed in that moment, the girl he had always been describing was standing right in front of him. All he knew was that he couldn't let her slip away now that he found her.

"Okay, I think it's done. Can I sit in and start it to see how it is?" Her voice awoke him from his thinking.

"Yeah, sure."

On the way to the car door (y/n) tried to clean her oil-stained hands as good as she could with more or less success, pressing her skin in the worn jean material on the front of her thighs before climbing in the car. The engine growled loudly a moment later, and they both waited curiously if smoke's going to appear again.

When nothing happened, the young girl swiftly got out of the car, leaving the engine going as she approached the boy again.

"Would it be alright if I took it for a tiny ride? I wanna see if the smoke comes back after using it again," she explained. "I'll leave my car key and wallet and all my stuff with you as warrant."

Pulling the mentioned things out of her jean pockets, (y/n) held it out towards him, waiting for a response. He silently nodded, a bit taken aback by the sudden suggestion but eventually taking the stuff from her, watching as she got in his car again, passing him and speeding off into the distance.

Maybe he was foolish to trust someone this easily, but she left all her belonging with him, why would she run away, stealing his car? Otherwise, she had a pretty nice car herself, compared to his older, simple car even the (already dried) mud-stained jeep seemed fancy.

It took all self-control he had in himself not to open her wallet and search for her ID so he could learn her name, but it felt wrong, finding it out without her knowledge. He could just ask her when she got back.

The figure of his car started growing again, signaling that she had turned around and started driving back, and indeed his car arrived back to the starting point a few minutes later. The girl carefully wheeled the car around so it faced its original direction again before stopping the engine and getting out.

"It's working absolutely alright by far. And even if it somehow starts doing it again, you'll get close to the garage by then."

"Wow," he muttered, feeling speechless. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I'm glad I could help," the girl leant down to pack her equipment laying on the ground.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, no, nothing. You don't have to pay me for this. I'm not even a professional," she quickly straightened her back, laughing at his suggestion as her hands waved it away.

"But I feel like I should pay you, you deserve something in exchange for stopping even though you didn't have to and offering to repair my car. And actually repairing it."

"No, really, please. I'm doing this because I like helping people, what is more people who happen to need my special knowledge about fixing car problems."

"Then at least let me buy you dinner or something in the nearest diner. If you have the time and would like to do so, of course."

Smooth, she thought giddily, watching him nervously creasing the hem of his shirt. The thought that such an attractive young man would be interested in a girl like her felt extra heartwarming.

"Okay, I can accept that," she giggled in the end.

"Amazing!" Timothée exclaimed, heart bursting with happiness that his sudden and absolutely not thought over plan worked out well.

"Then, are we gonna drive separately and stop at the first diner that comes in sight?" (y/n) visualised the scene appearing in her head.

"Yeah, probably," he chuckled. "Though what do you think about exchanging phone numbers and staying in a call while we drive there?"

"Great idea!" (y/n) grinned at him, amusement in her eyes. The boy truly had some pretty good thoughts in his head.

They both pulled out their mentioned smart devices from their pockets and switched them, typing in their respective numbers before saying temporary goodbyes and climbing inside their own cars. Just in time with (y/n)'s engine starting roaring, her phone in her hand started ringing.

She glanced at the screen for a short moment before erupting in loud laughter as her eyes took in the nickname he set for himself.

"Heya, Timmy T," she answered suggestively, still giggling, making the boy let out a chuckle as well.

"Hi, (y/n)," he answered a second later. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

(y/n) tapped on her screen to put the call on speaker before putting the device down and slowly starting make the car roll forward. Glancing in the rearview mirror she made sure the boy was following her before picking up a faster speed.

For the next two hours they went from the first small talk to deeper, more serious subjects, getting to know the other more. Minutes spent with laughing loudly or silently listening to the other's stories went by.

In the first half an hour Timothée sped up out of nowhere and caught up to (y/n)'s car in the opposing traffic's lane so they could cast momentarily glances at each other until another car appeared on the road and the boy had to slow back down to swerve back in the normal lane behind her car.

The strange but nice attraction they both felt towards each other only grew stronger with every passing minute and by the time they arrived to the first diner in their way, they were already something close to best friends, or maybe even more.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

#timothée chalamet #song drabble #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet x reader #x reader #fanfiction #alex turner imagine #fanfic #trust fund baby #why don't we #wdw #dune #call me by your name #cmbyn #interstellar #the king #nonstoplover #masterlist

90 notes · View notes

dramatrashh · 3 years

Text

[UNREQUITED LOVE 2021 SPOILERS]

I'm loving it tbh. And I love both the leads. Sheng Huainan is a nerdy cutie pie and Luo Zhi is a nerdy and a confident cutie pie.

These are some of my thoughts up until ep 10.

number 1 being WHY DOES SHE LIE TO HIM ON THEIR DATE WHERE THEY'RE HAVING LUNCH?????? That was so wrong. I can understand that she wanted to lie about the triple chopsticks thing because if she said the reason she would be exposing her crush. BUT she lied to him about her habits as a child? And I know that they were talking about their childhood and it might not be a big thing BUT lying to him just to make him think that she's like her? Or to appease him? Is so wrong. He would definitely like her even if she didn't lie to him about all of this. But I can also understand that she wants to become closer to him. But that's not the right way to do it. I just hope she doesn't do it anymore. I think Huainan would be really sad to know it because all he wants is a person that is in sync with him, but a person that is in sync with him while being themselves, he definitely would not like the fact that she lied. Not to mention that he already was not sure about their relationship because he thought that she did everything on purpose.

2. JUST WHY DOESN'T SHE TELL HIM THAT SHE'S THE GIRL FROM HIS CHILDHOOD MEMORY. I know it means A LOT to her. She has apparently been clinging to the memory for 15 years and it was the start of her crush. But they were children, it is very normal that he forgot most of it. I literally don't remember almost anything of my childhood, except some random moments that make 0 sense *cough*though I don't know if I'm qualified to talk because I can't even remember what I ate this after noon*cough*. Besides, he told her the memory was precious to him and he kept it in his heart. I think that was quite enough to tell him she was the girl from back then. Did she not tell him just to make him think that she also thinks "uncomplete romance is more romantic"? I really hope that wasn't the reason.

3. Why does she feel inferior to him? I don't understand this. She seems to be very confident and her grades are on an equal level as his. She is just as knowledgeable as him, if not more. So why?

4. I know Baili is most probably going to end up with Ge Bi but I really hope she can move on. He doesn't deserve her at all. He's practically been using her all this time. I don't understand why she doesn't want to give up. Maybe it's because their relationship has been like this, has been so one sided since the very beginning. But she really needs to get herself away from him and focus on herself. She just deserves so much better. She can leave a man like Ge Bi to the other girl whose name I don't remember and I don't even care to remember. She compares her relationship with Luo Zhi's crush but they're different. Luo Zhi isn't in a relationship with Huainan. And besides, (I feel a little rude saying this but it has to be said) she should have some dignity and not cling to him when he doesn't care about her at all.

5. I really really dislike that girl with short hair that shout-talks. In the beginning I even found her cute. I didn't dislike her up til she invited Luo Zhi to dinner and made assumptions against her character and talked bad about her. That wasn't alright of her but one could let it pass considering her emotions at the moment. I thought they would end being friends though. My idea died at the end of the ep where she picks up Luo Zhi's diary from the bin (WHY did Luo Zhi even threw it away like that. By the things she had written in it, I would probably burn it before throwing it away or I would hide it somewhere in my room but NEVER throw it in such a public place(maybe I've seen too many dramas lol)) and actually scratched her writing out like that. That's when I realise she is OBSESSED with Huainan. And I know Luo Zhi's crush could be considered as an obsession of some sorts too because she has most probably stalked him around and all. But I REALLY SUPER DUPER UTTERLY EXTREMELY disliked that scene where she purposely throws water on him. Everyone laughs? How could they laugh? It must have been so uncomfortable for Huainan to have a girl sticking to him trying to wipe the water she purposely threw on him. That was soooo not fine of her. I felt uncomfortable through the screen and I cant imagine the character living that multiple times apparently. Also, she's confessed and got rejected if I'm not mistaken? Then girl it's time to back off. He doesn't like you, it's quite simple to understand. Not to talk about that other girl Mingrui has a crush on. She thought Huainan liked her because she thought that he liked her posts on weibo? Is it normal nowadays? Like is a like considered some kind of subtle confession? I really hope not, I really really hope people don't think that irl, just please.

6. I LOOOOOOOOVE Huainan and Mingrui's friendship. They're so cute and understanding of each other and super supportive. By what I'm guessing Mingrui is going to be developed a second lead (there's already some foreshadowing) and that is going to be painful. I really hope I'm guessing utterly wrong here (let me live in an illusion until it doesn't happen). Mingrui is such a good person and he deserves better.

7. I was a little hesitant about all of Huainan behaviour when he found out that Luo Zhi had a crush on him and the way he thought she was lying and all that stuff. He was wrong (until that lunch date at least) because she had never lied to him and a crush is a personal thing, it is Luo Zhi's choice if she wants to reveal it or not. But it was understandable why he was being like that because he had been always approached for various reasons, everyone around him had a motive to be close to him and he was quite tired of being used like that or being liked for his looks. And he thought Luo Zhi was approaching him because of that too.

8. Last thing. WHY, JUST WHY did Luo Zhi not tell him that she was the one who wrote the answer to his question on the wall? Hiding your crush is obviously your choice; hiding the childhood thing, I can understand you to some extent; but this? WHY? why would you hide such a simple thing? I hope the answer to my questions will be revealed slowly.

That's all for now. I really want to make some cutie Huainan gifs but I wanted to use YT because it has high quality but it has not been released there yet so I'm waitiiiiing. As I am waaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiting for the next Eps.

#unrequited love #Unrequited love 2021 #Luo Zhi #Sheng Huainan #Zhang Mingrui #Jiang Baili #Hu Bing Qing #hu yi tian #Zhang yijie #Mikan ryu #Cdrama #Drama rants #chinese drama #chinese actor #chinese actress

4 notes · View notes

clouds-of-yunmeng · 5 years

Text

Promise

Modern AU where Lan Zhan is a teacher at his family’s Music Academy, and one of his new pupils happens to bring him back in touch with one certain person...

(There’s an Illu at the end~ )

Lan Zhan wasn’t happy. He wasn’t miserable, but not happy either. He liked his job well enough, he lived in a good home, he wasn’t alone and he was safe. He was content, one could say.

He combs his hair as he does every morning, allowing only a few strands to fall forward to frame his face and goes to put on his clothes for the day. He wears a 3-part suit as always and tucks a pair of glasses into the breast pocket of his jacket.

It was his father’s.

Lan Zhan calmly pours himself a cup of tea and sets a bowl of oatmeal on the table in front of himself. He put some fresh fruits in the oatmeal, to ensure that he got the vitamins he needed.

He ate first, then drank his green tea and brought the dishes to the sink. He cleaned them quickly and checked the time. All perfect.

Seeing as he had everything prepared for now, he went into the living room and knelt in front of the cage that housed his rabbits. It took up almost half of the living room, but Lan Zhan wanted his rabbits to have enough room to hop about, even when he couldn’t take them out into the garden. He made sure they had their food and water, and picked up one of the rabbits to pet it.

Today was going to be the first day of school. Many new students would come in for the first time.

“Good morning, father,” said a soft voice from the doorway. Lan Yuan, Lan Zhan’s adoptive son.

“Good morning,” Lan Zhan replied and set down the rabbit again. He closed the cage again and turned his attention to his son, who had gone to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast.

The boy was very independent, rising without needing Lan Zhan to wake him up, and making his own breakfast without needing Lan Zhan’s help at all.

Sometimes Lan Zhan wished the boy relied more on him. The memories of a clingy child are still vivid in his mind, and it makes his heart ache a bit.

But it’s better this way. Independence in all aspects of life paves the way for a good path towards the future.

“Did you sleep well?” Lan Zhan asked and poured a cup of tea for his son before the boy could do it. Lan Yuan smiled.

“I did. Did you?” he replied after he thanked his father for the tea.

“I am glad,” Lan Zhan said softly and threw a glance at the clock. “I did as well after meditating for thirty minutes,” he added.

Lan Yuan’s smile got a bit wider.

“Are you excited to get new students?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

“We discover promising talents every year,” Lan Zhan said mildly. Lan Yuan knew this was an enthusiastic ‘Yes’. He started eating contently.

The kitchen was silent except for the soft clatter of Lan Yuan’s spoon and bowl.

As they do every morning Lan Zhan and Lan Yuan walk to school. It gives them some time to greet the day, get some fresh air and get some good exercise.

It took them about forty minutes to arrive at the Lan An Music Academy. One of, if not the most prestigious school for ambitious musical prodigies.

Over twenty years ago Lan Zhan had learned here under the guidance of his uncle. Now that his uncle had retired, Lan Zhan taught in his place. Lan Huan, Lan Zhan’s elder brother had taken over as the school’s chairman.

Needless to say that the Lan An Music Academy was a family-business.

One day, most were certain, Lan Yuan or Lan Jingyi - the son of a relative - would take over after Lan Zhan and Lan Huan.

That was all in a distant future though, as today both juniors were mere students at the academy. It was actually Lan Jingyi’s first day today.

The boy was finally old enough to attend at the academy. He was actually two years younger than Lan Yuan. The two boys were good friends though and always got along nicely.

Finally it was time for Lan Zhan to meet and greet his new students. Many young teenagers piled into his classroom, chatting and talking as they settled in their seats. It was the usual and Lan Zhan used the time before class started to write his name on the blackboard for everyone to see.

8 am. The bell rang.

“Good morning class,” Lan Zhan said, bowing his head. “You will stand from your seats when you greet me. I am your teacher, Lan Zhan. You may address me as Teacher Zhan,” he explained calmly.

On cue the whole class rose to their feet and greeted him.

“Good morning Teacher Zhan!”

Lan Zhan nodded. “Very well, you may sit,” he said and picked up the list of students in his class.

“I will go through all of your names now. Please stand up when you hear your name and tell us al little about yourself and why you came here,” Lan Zhan said and started at the top of the list.

He made it down to Lan Jingyi, and the boy eagerly introduced himself.

“I am Lan Jingyi, 14 years old! I am here because I’m a Lan. And because my best friend is here too, and I want to be as good as him!” he said, a tad too loud, bouncing on his heels as he spoke. “I don’t play an instrument though. I sing!” he added quickly before he forgot.

Lan Zhan found himself smiling at the youth’s enthusiasm.

“Very well,” he said and gestured for Lan Jingyi to sit down again. “Now, Mo Xuanyu,” he read from his list.

A young man, who was obviously a good bit older than the others stood up. Lan Zhan thought his heart would stop for a moment.

“I... am Mo Xuanyu,” he said hesitantly. “I am 24 years old.”

If he hadn’t heard the young man’s name just now, and if he didn’t hear his voice, Lan Zhan would have mistaken him for somebody else. The fact that the young man wore a t-shirt that was painfully familiar to the teacher didn’t make it easier.

He would recognize that shirt anywhere. That hand-dyed shirt that had once been purple with a white lotus was now black with a red lotus. He recognized the slight patches of purple that showed through the washed out black dye, and the blotchy red that colored the lotus. This was the same shirt as the one he had worn back then...

A moment passed in silence until Lan Zhan realized that Mo Xuanyu hadn’t said anything else.

“Tell us about yourself,” Lan Zhan encouraged. Mo Xuanyu jumped as though he had been struck.

“I’m... W-Wei... I mean...” he broke off and dug his fingers into his shirt as though it was the only thing adhering him to the earth.

“Do not push yourself,” Lan Zhan said and gestured for Mo Xuanyu to sit down again, not wanting him to get even more anxious.

In truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he could have maintained his cool facade if the young man had continued talking. Through his stuttering Lan Zhan couldn’t be certain, but he could have sworn he heard him say ‘Wei’.

Wei Ying, his heart whispered.

Lan Zhan didn’t allow himself to listen to that whisper, turning his attention back to the class instead, where multiple youngsters were pointing and laughing at Mo Xuanyu the stutterer.

“Silence!” Lan Zhan commanded. “Harassment of your fellow classmates will not be tolerated!” he pointed out and glared into the room.

Nobody dared to even breathe, as the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

The rest of the day went by mostly uneventful.

All students were given their copy of the rule book, everyone was assigned to their specific courses and everything went well for the most part. Well, that was if you looked past the fact that Mo Xuanyu had barely spoken since that first introduction, preferring to answer questions through gestures if at all.

Lan Zhan at least found out that the youth played the Dizi - his heart gave another painful stutter at that - and that he hadn’t played it for a long time yet.

It was hard to talk to the young man though, with the rest of the class still present, so Lan Zhan asked Mo Xuanyu to stay behind with him so they could talk in a quieter setting.

He noticed how the youth’s cheeks flushed a deep red color for a second, before his face turned ghostly pale. His anxiety was tangible.

Still, Lan Zhan needed to find out how he could help his student and he was going to find a way.

When class was over everyone left, except for Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan had half expected him to run away so he wouldn’t have to face him, but apparently the young man knew to follow rules that his teachers set up.

Lan Zhan sat down on an empty seat near Mo Xuanyu and gave him a moment to calm down.

“Mo Xuanyu,” he said then, “I would like to assure you that you are not in trouble, alright?”

The young man gasped, then nodded, then bowed.

Lan Zhan wanted to assure him that such a thing wasn’t necessary, but he saw the young man’s back moving slower now, his breathing less erratic and panicked, and he thought maybe this helped him calm himself?

“I can see that you are not comfortable with a large group of people, so I want to find out how I can help you feel more comfortable,” Lan Zhan explained slowly.

Mo Xuanyu raised his head a little and looked up at Lan Zhan.

He smiled widely and reached out to grasp Lan Zhan’s hands in both of his.

“Thank you!” he said quickly, then released his hands and recoiled. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry...!”

This emotional whiplash was surprising to say the least, but Lan Zhan was determined not to let it get to him. This young man likely had gone through some difficult things and he wouldn’t shun or discriminate against him for that reason.

He had just managed to gather his thoughts again when he heard his voice.

“A-Yu! A-Yu...!”

Mo Xuanyu perked up and without another word, without even gathering his belongings rushed out.

“Wei-Ge!” he called.

Lan Zhan rose to his feet and turned towards the door where he saw... him.

Wei Ying.

Mo Xuanyu had attached himself to Wei Ying’s arm, smiling widely. Standing side by side like this one could almost mistake them for siblings.

“Where’s your stuff, A-Yu? How was your day, hm?” Wei Ying spoke softly to his... ward?

Mo Xuanyu sheepishly turned around and pointed to his seat. Wei Ying smiled and looked in the direction that Mo Xuanyu pointed... and met Lan Zhan’s eyes.

For a moment the two of them just stared in silence, neither able to find the words to say.

Then, after Mo Xuanyu tugged on Wei Ying’s arm, he broke the silence.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying acknowledged.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan responded and curled his hands into fists to keep himself grounded. “I... am glad you are well,” he managed to add. Even to somebody who didn’t know him his voice must have sounded tense and nervous.

A grin spread on Wei Ying’s face and it was easy to see that Mo Xuanyu’s smile was almost a perfect copy of that grin.

“I am well indeed!” Wei Ying said and slung his arm around Mo Xuanyu’s shoulders, “My, isn’t A-Yu lucky to be taught by none other than Lan-Er-Gege~?”

Lan Zhan’s ears burned.

Mo Yuanyu looked between them a few times, then turned towards Wei Ying.

“Wei-Ge knows Teacher Zhan?”

Wei Ying didn’t get a chance to reply when a quiet knock on the door frame could be heard.

“Father?”

Wei Ying and Mo Xuanyu turned around to see a teenager standing in the doorway.

“Oh? Lan Zhan, your son?” Wei Ying asked and stepped aside with Mo Xuanyu to let the teen pass.

Lan Yuan gave the two a quick bow.

“Actually... I am adopted,” he said, ever the proper young gentleman, “My name is Lan Yuan.”

Now it was Wei Ying’s turn to fall into shock.

There was no way, right? This was just a silly coincidence... it had to be. Not every child by the name of Yuan had to be his A-Yuan, right? Right?

A-Yu’s cousin was called A-Yuan too after all, so what were the odds?

But this boy... no... it couldn’t be.

“Wei-Ge?” A-Yu tugged on Wei Ying’s sleeve.

“Is... Lan Zhan... is he...?”

“Yes.”

As the two adults stared at each other, seemingly screaming at each other in utter silence the two youths nervously exchanged glances.

Something was going on, and neither of them knew what.

Finally Wei Ying looked down at Lan Yuan.

“A-Yuan?” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

Lan Yuan didn’t know who this man was. Why he looked at him like a mother at her child, why his voice trembled so much. And he didn’t know why his own heart clenched when he heard the sound of his name like this.

Seeing that Lan Yuan didn’t recognize him at all Wei Ying pulled back and laughed.

“Ah, you must have been too young to remember me... ahahaha...” he laughed, trying to act like he didn’t want to cry for hours.

A-Yu noticed though. He knew the sound of Wei-Ge’s tears; he knew they sounded like laughter.

Lan Zhan knew it too.

He hadn’t understood it 13 years ago, but now he did.

“Wei Ying,” he said softly, catching the man’s attention again. “I would like to talk to you and your...” he interrupted himself, realizing that he still didn’t know what kind of relationship Mo Xuanyu and Wei Ying actually had.

“Child,” Wei Ying said with a bubbling laughter. “A-Yu is my child. Not as in... I’m his parent, but he’s my child,” he added as though that explained anything. He rubbed his neck then bit his lip.

“Ah... I’d love to, Lan Zhan,” he said and nudged Mo Xuanyu to gather his things. “I need to run some errands today, but how about tomorrow after class is over?” he offered.

Lan Zhan nodded without thinking. He would have time for Wei Ying, he promised himself.

Wei Ying smiled.

“Great! Please be kind to my child tomorrow!” he said and grabbed Mo Xuanyu’s hand once the youth came to his side with his bag.

And with that they were gone.

If not for Lan Yuan’s confused looks and the warmth in his heart Lan Zhan would have thought he’d dreamed up the whole thing.

But Mo Xuanyu’s name was still on his list and as he went to gather his things from the desk he heard that laughter all the way from the gate of the academy. He glanced out the window and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Wei Ying waving up at him from the gate.

Looking at him like this it was almost as though 13 years hadn’t gone by.

He could easily superimpose the memory of Wei Ying’s younger appearance over his current self. The same smile, the same exuberant energy. For that brief moment at least he could pretend like he didn’t see the shadow.

He waved back ever so slightly and earned a grin that made his heart melt.

“Father?” Lan Yuan asked softly and stood by his father’s desk.

Lan Zhan turned towards him. “Yes?”

“Who is that man?” Lan Yuan asked hesitantly. Lan Zhan smiled faintly.

“He... is the one who cared for you before I adopted you,” he said finally after mulling over his words for a moment.

Lan Yuan’s eyes widened. “He... is he... my actual father...?” he whispered. Lan Zhan’s smile softened a bit and he placed his hand on Lan Yuan’s shoulder.

“No. But he loves you no less,” Lan Zhan said with a sigh.

“May I come along, tomorrow?” Lan Yuan asked nervously.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Lan Zhan assured.

And so, on the next day, after class had ended the four of them went to the nearby park.

Lan Yuan watched the way Wei Ying supported Mo Xuanyu, who had once again attached himself to Wei Ying’s arm.

There seemed to be something in the gleam of Wei Ying’s eyes, the way he smiled fondly at his ‘child’, that brought warm feelings to Lan Yuan’s heart, that he couldn’t quite place.

Wei Ying noticed the nervous glances the teenager threw in his direction and smiled at him.

Before long the four of them had reached a free bench and sat down.

“A-Yuan, what instrument do you play?” Wei Ying asked without preamble. His question surprised Lan Yuan, who would have expected the man to address his father first instead of himself.

“I... play the Guqin,” he replied and held back a little gasp when the look in Wei Ying’s eyes grew so tender it made him feel humble and undeserving.

“Like your father, I see?” he said and glanced at Mo Xuanyu. “A-Yu plays the Dizi, like me,” he said and gave his ‘child’ a nudge.

“Why don’t you two talk some? Maybe you find some songs you both like?” he offered when neither one of the two moved.

A-Yu, as Wei Ying called him, rose to his feet and held out his hand to Lan Yuan.

“I... can show you W-Wei-Ge’s favorite song,” he said when the the teen hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Lan Zhan encouraged when Lan Yuan threw him an uncertain glance. “We will be here,” he added.

Assured by his father Lan Yuan allowed this strange young man to tug him along to one of the flower beds, where he picked a few flowers. Lan Yuan wanted to stop him, but before he could Mo Xuanyu had already tucked the flowers into Lan Yuan’s hair.

Wei Ying watched, chuckling softly.

Lan Zhan watched him.

“Wei Ying,” he said.

“Yes,” Wei Ying said and leaned back on the bench. “A-Yu was abused at home. I met him this year at the clinic, and somehow I just couldn’t leave him be.”

There he went. Jumping straight into the heart of the issue. His boldness though allowed him to bypass the little shards in his heart that truly hurt.

“I helped him express himself through music, and I thought the Academy would be a good place for him, because he’s got talent,” Wei Ying continued. A quiet melody mingled with his voice as he spoke.

Lan Zhan had to take a deep breath before he said anything.

“I understand.”

“How did you adopt A-Yuan?”

Lan Zhan hadn’t been ready for those silver eyes staring into his own. Years upon years of that cheerful voice calling for him to look at him echoed in his mind, ignored and avoided time and time again because these eyes made him weak.

“Paramedics found him. Brought him to the same hospital as the one where I was...” Lan Zhan admitted, “Met him by chance and... couldn’t leave him be.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widened a bit, and a grin spread on his lips.

“When did you gain a sense of humor, huh? Quoting my words back at me like that?” He laughed and gave Lan Zhan’s shoulder a friendly nudge.

“When I raised A-Yuan,” Lan Zhan said fondly and looked over at the two youngsters.

“Wei-Ge told me a secret,” Mo Xuanyu whispered at Lan Yuan. The younger boy raised an eyebrow.

Mo Xuanyu nodded and grinned.

“He said you should be my little brother!”

Lan Yuan was silent.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t seem to mind and tucked another flower behind Lan Yuan’s ear.

“I want a little brother like A-Yuan,” Mo Xuanyu sighed.

“But you don’t even know what I’m like...” Lan Yuan murmured. Mo Xuanyu smiled widely.

“But I’ll find out if you are my brother. Also, Wei-Ge told me things,” he added giggling.

That giggle sounded suspicious to Lan Yuan and he leaned in to inquire quietly, “What things?”

“Cute things,” Mo Xuanyu replied, still giggling. “About a little baby that liked to cling to people’s legs and call Wei-Ge Mama one time,” he whispered.

For some reason, even though Lan Yuan had absolutely no memory of ever doing such things, he felt his cheeks grow hot.

Wei Ying wondered what the kids were talking about when he saw A-Yuan’s cheeks turn red. Maybe that unruly child of his had told him the secret he had told him? Admittedly, he had told A-Yu so he could tease A-Yuan about it.

Lan Zhan threw him a glance.

“Wei Ying,” he started and waited for the other to look at him. “I want to be considerate of Mo Xuanyu’s situation,” he explained.

“You want to know how to do it?” Wei Ying guessed easily.

Lan Zhan nodded.

Wei Ying laughed and shook out his hair.

“Ah... ah, well... Give him time, I guess,” he said and when Lan Zhan looked at him in a way that told him he wasn’t convinced, Wei Ying shrugged.

“What? I’m not a psychologist,” he pointed out.

Lan Zhan shook his head, “No, but he likes you.” Wei Ying chuckled.

“Do you want him to like you?”

“I want him to not be afraid of me at least.”

Wei Ying sighed.

“Give him time,” he repeated. “I got close to him because... well, I was that uncle who kept pestering until he learned that I mean no harm,” he added when Lan Zhan looked at him again.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, I just talked to him when I saw him in the cafeteria or in the hallways. I didn’t actually pester him, what kind of person do you think I am?!”

Lan Zhan smiled faintly.

After a moment Wei Ying called A-Yu over to their side again. A-Yuan followed at a slight distance and Wei Ying couldn’t help but notice that the teen’s cheeks were still tinted pink.

“A-Yu,” Wei Ying said and pulled the younger male onto the bench so he sat between him and Lan Zhan. “I talked to Lan-Er-Gege,” he started, grinning when he saw Lan Zhan’s ears reddening. “And I asked him to be patient with you, okay?”

Mo Xuanyu squirmed a bit, sitting as close as physically possible to Wei Ying.

“I... don’t want to be afraid...” he whispered into Wei Ying’s shoulder.

“I know, A-Yu,” Wei Ying assured patiently.

Mo Xuanyu turned to face Lan Zhan, but he couldn’t look at him for more than a moment before hiding his face against Wei Ying’s shoulder again.

Lan Yuan stood in front of Mo Xuanyu.

“You don’t need to be afraid of him,” he said.

Wei Ying wanted to say something, but stopped himself. A-Yu knew that he didn’t need to fear adults, but he couldn’t help himself. But maybe if someone whom he considered closer to his age told him not to be afraid... maybe it’d work?

For a while the two looked at each other, Lan Yuan smiling softly, while Mo Xuanyu slowly managed to let go of Wei Ying’s arm.

“W-what does... he do when he’s... angry at you...?” he whispered so quietly that Lan Yuan had to lean in closer to understand him.

“Nothing,” he said and shrugged. “Well, he may be a bit stern and if I do something really bad he’ll make me copy the rule book... but otherwise nothing.”

Wei Ying put on a smile.

“Lan-Er-Gege would never hurt you,” he assured, before Lan Zhan himself could say anything. “And if he does, I’ll beat him up,” he added jokingly.

A part of Lan Zhan felt that he meant it though. If he ever laid a hand on Wei Ying’s ‘child’ he would bleed for it.

“I am your teacher, Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Zhan said, “it is my job to teach you, to help you evolve your abilities and gain knowledge; to guide you ahead,” he explained. “None of these involve pain or violence.”

They spent some more time walking and chatting that day before parting ways. They left each other with the promise to meet up again.

They kept that promise.

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #modern au #wangxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #lan yuan #lan sizhui #wei wuxian #wei ying #mo xuanyu #mo xuanyu's mental state #wei ying cares #lan zhan cares too #lan yuan is cute #illustrated!

57 notes · View notes

jewlwpet · 5 years

Text

Let’s dissect the titles of each track on Seazer’s upcoming new Utena album!!

(EDIT: IMPORTANT UPDATE: J. A. Seazer made some last-minute changes to the tracklist after I made this post; I discussed those changes here).

1) 青銅製の人形俳優譚オルフェウス洞窟劇場/Chant of Bronze Puppet Actors: Orpheus Grotto Theatre

There was a famous real-life “Grotto of Orpheus” that Seazer is most likely referencing! It doesn’t exist anymore, but you can see a detailed engraving of it here. It was made by Tommasso and Alessandro Francini for Henri IV of France. You can read about it and see another engraving here.

My guess as to what the song will be about: The grotto of Orpheus existed to glorify the prince by showing that he had so much power at his command, he could create a marvel like this. However, the object of wonder was a mechanical illusion: empty movement, so to speak. This was around the same time that some scientists began voicing the idea that perhaps the whole cosmos was like a machine built by God. This suggests the question, though it went unvoiced, of whether we ourselves are merely puppet-actors upon a cosmic stage.

(More under the cut--this will be long).

2) 宇宙卵プロトゴノス ―すなわちアンドロギュヌスのポラリザシオン(分極作用)―/Cosmic Egg Protogonos ―Namely Androgynous Polarization (Polarizing Action)―

This one is actually pretty straightforward if you understand Seazer’s language.

This song makes use of the Orphic creation narrative. Seazer used it before in a now lost version of Absolute Destiny Apocalypse (original source now here). Note: At the time when I posted that translation, I was under the mistaken impression that it was the same as the version on the Ohtori Kuruhi CD (because Seazer frequently does use pronunciation totally different from how something’s written). It is not; that set of lyrics is in fact the one used again more recently in the “complete version” in the Barbara CD.

Protogonos (literally “first-born”), also called Phanes (“bring to light”) ( "You scattered the dark mist that lay before your eyes and, flapping your wings, you whirled about, and throughout this world you brought pure light. For this I call you Phanes.") was described by Damascius as “the first [god] expressible and acceptable to human ears.” They hatched from the primordial Cosmic Egg, generated by Time (Chronos) and sometimes also Inevitability (Ananke).

Another tradition claims that a triad of the first three “intelligible principles” hatched from the egg. “What is this triad, then? The egg; the dyad of the two natures inside it--male and female--[Ouranos... and Gaia... Heaven and Earth], and the plurality of the various seeds between; and thirdly an incorporeal god with golden wings on his shoulders, bulls' heads growing upon his flanks, and on his head a monstrous serpent, presenting the appearance of all kinds of animal forms . . . And the third god of the third triad this theology too celebrates as Protogonos (First-Born).”

Another fact about Protogonos: They were a dying-and-rising god.

Since the title seems to focus on the severance of male from female (androgynous polarization), here are some passages that focus on that (source).

And he [Epicurus] says that the world began in the likeness of an egg, and the Wind [the entwined forms of Khronos (Chronos, Time) and Ananke (Inevitability)] encircling the egg serpent-fashion like a wreath or a belt then began to constrict nature. As it tried to squeeze all the matter with greater force, it divided the world into the two hemispheres, and after that the atoms sorted themselves out, the lighter and finer ones in the universe floating above and becoming the Bright Air [Aither (Aether)] and the most rarefied Wind [probably Khaos (Chaos, Air)], while the heaviest and dirtiest have veered down, become the Earth (Ge) [Gaia], both the dry land and the fluid waters [Pontos the Sea]. And the atoms move by themselves and through themselves within the revolution of the Sky and the Stars, everything still being driven round by the serpentiform wind [of Khronos and Ananke].

Ere land and sea and the all-covering sky were made, in the whole world the countenance of nature was the same, all one, well named Chaos, a raw and undivided mass, naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds of ill-joined elements compressed together.... Though there were land and sea and air, the land no foot could tread, no creature swim the sea, the air was lightless; nothing kept its form, all objects were at odds, since in one mass cold essence fought with hot, and moist with dry, and hard with soft and light with things of weight. This strife a God (Deus) [probably Phanes], with nature's blessing, solved; who severed land from sky and sea from land, and from the denser vapours set apart the ethereal sky; and, each from the blind heap resolved and freed, he fastened in its place appropriate in peace and harmony. The fiery weightless force of heaven's vault flashed up and claimed the topmost citadel; next came the air in lightness and in place; the thicker earth with grosser elements sank burdened by its weight; lowest and last the girdling waters pent the solid globe. So into shape whatever god it was reduced the primal matter and prescribed its several parts.

Incidentally, the repeated severance and rejoining (solve et coagula) of male/female and above/below, was a key component of alchemy (of course, the materials they worked with were inanimate, but the alchemists insisted on gendering and even sexualizing them, always).

Protogonos bears some resemblance to the Gnostic demiurge, (shaper of the material world, creator of humans, associated with severance and procreation). However, the Gnostics denigrated the demiurge, whereas Protogonos was venerated. One could also make

3) ミッシング&ブーピープ ―快楽の園の修道院のイメージ― /Missing and Bo-Peep -Image of the Monastery’s Garden of Earthly Delights-

Okay. Bo-Peep is, of course, a little girl in a nursery rhyme who’s lost her sheep but gets them back, wagging their tails behind them (wagging meant bringing). There’s an extended version where it’s specified that they’d actually lost their tails (but she found those too and reattached them). Before all that, “bo-peep” was used to refer to the children’s game of peekaboo, and in the Middle Ages, it was also a euphemism for being stood in a pillory. The Garden of Earthly Delights is a triptych by Bosch (viewable in detail here--arguably technically safe for work but only because it’s Art [tm]). From Wikipedia:

As so little is known of Bosch's life or intentions, interpretations of his intent have ranged from an admonition of worldly fleshy indulgence, to a dire warning on the perils of life's temptations, to an evocation of ultimate sexual joy. The intricacy of its symbolism, particularly that of the central panel, has led to a wide range of scholarly interpretations over the centuries. Twentieth-century art historians are divided as to whether the triptych's central panel is a moral warning or a panorama of paradise lost.

There’s also speculation that Bosch’s art (as a whole) is based on “esoteric knowledge lost to history.” The ambiguity is perfect for RGU.

I like this interpretation:

According to art historian Virginia Tuttle, the scene is "highly unconventional [and] cannot be identified as any of the events from the Book of Genesis traditionally depicted in Western art". Some of the images contradict the innocence expected in the Garden of Eden. Tuttle and other critics have interpreted the gaze of Adam upon his wife as lustful, and indicative of the Christian belief that humanity was doomed from the beginning... Art historian Charles de Tolnay believed that, through the seductive gaze of Adam, the left panel already shows God's waning influence upon the newly created earth. This view is reinforced by the rendering of God in the outer panels as a tiny figure in comparison to the immensity of the earth. According to Hans Belting, the three inner panels seek to broadly convey the Old Testament notion that, before the Fall, there was no defined boundary between good and evil; humanity in its innocence was unaware of consequence.

This is of course very different from the traditional Christian view of Genesis, which is that before the Fall, there was no sexual desire. In many Gnostic texts, however, “original sin” is something that existed before the creation of the world; thus there was no innocence of any kind in Eden. The “original sinner” in this view was generally said to be Sophia (Wisdom, an Anthylike figure sometimes known as “the Bride,” who was both revered and maligned), an attribute of the Godhead, which was made up of syzygies, complementary pairs of principles, described variously as spouses and/or siblings, who (because they were God) reproduced without lust. But it was this same Sophia who breathed life and spirit into humanity, making them more than just bodies.

In this belief humans were inherently sinful creatures from the very beginning; it was also said that it was wrong for the demiurge to separate Eve from Adam (I believe this was the same text that said “This world is a mistake”--by the way, the demiurge was supposedly brought into existence by Sophia, but they’re enemies).

There’s also this idea that Bosch followed the ideas attributed to a Gnostic sect called the Adamites (unfortunately, the only contemporary sources we have on them are anti-Gnostic propaganda, so we cannot know how much of it is based in reality), which basically advocated freedom from all moral laws; the last image seems to suggest otherwise, but it certainly is, at least, a theme.

Incidentally, this triptych has been used for the covers of at least two books by Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, whose works Seazer draws on extensively according to my research.

Anyway, for my attempt at putting the pieces of the title together... However you interpret the triptych, it’s not something you’d expect to see in a monastery. Wikipedia indicates a general consensus that it was probably commissioned by a lay person, not a member of the clergy. So the title suggests a contrast, or a confluence of opposites, rather like that title from his last Utena album, “Monastic Life is a Flesh Apocalypse.”

4) 幾何学とエロス/Geometry and Eros

This is, word-for-word, the title of a 1974 essay by Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, whom, as I said before, I have known Seazer to draw from very frequently. It was published in this book, which also contains an essay on the “cosmic egg” concept and an essay on the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili.

I have it from book reviews that “Geometry and Eros” discusses the 18th-century French Neoclassical architext Ledoux and the supposed “spiritual analogy” between his works and those of his contemporaries Fourier and Sade. Now, unfortunately, there are two different “Fourier”s from this time period that are both feasible candidates: the mathematician Joseph Fourier and the utopian socialist philosopher Charles Fourier. I lean towards the latter, however, because Shibusawa had published a translation of his essay “Archibras,” which Seazer drew on for Tsuwabuki’s duel song, Conical Absolute Egg Archibras. I suppose Ledoux would represent “geometry” and the other two “eros,” assuming I have the right Fourier.

Apparently, Shibusawa criticized Emil Kaufmann’s commentary on Ledoux, but I don’t know specifics on that.

5) 少女錬金術師/Girl Alchemist

The main question is whether this is Utena or Anthy, because the meaning would be different in either case. But alchemy is about unifying opposites, and they both do embody opposites, just in different ways. And they are opposites of each other, even though traditionally, in alchemy, the union of opposites is exclusively framed in heterosexual terms--think Angel Androgynous. This heterosexual union--often, incidentally, described as one of brother and sister--is meant to lead to the birth of the “philosophical child,” which can be interpreted as a new self. It’s kind of like Nanami’s Egg, actually, though that did not use the incest metaphor since one of RGU’s themes is how incest inhibits individuation.

Interestingly, while almost(?) all the surviving alchemical texts (at least in the Western tradition, which is what I’ve studied) were written by men, many of them stated that the first alchemist was a woman, and a Jewish woman at that. Unfortunately, all we know of her is from what men wrote about her.

There’s a quotation attributed to her that has an interesting interpretation by Jung, which you can read about here. Alchemy as a metaphor for psychological individuation is something he wrote about extensively, and it definitely makes sense in this context although it’s not, imo, the only meaning alchemy has in RGU. Marie Louise von Franz wrote about it extensively also! The two of them worked closely together as well as individually.

6) 人間人形 ―空想・イン・ザ・架空―/Human Puppet -Fantasy in the Imaginary-

(I’ve got nothing, other than the metaphor of puppets which I already touched on).

7) 絶対天秤卵/Absolute Balance Egg

This is not a new song. It’s taken from 2006 Banyu Inryoku production, Illusion-Flesh Verse Drama “Black in the Dark.” Of course, this is nothing new; even the duel songs were recycled (and this was Ikuhara’s idea, not Seazer’s), so this is just an extension of that. I found its tracklist in this review; it’s described as an “improvised reverberation poem of flesh burning up in the dark,” which must be from a playbill or something because it’s such a Seazer description.

Apparently, the “intro” (written in katakana) to this song was taken directly from “Paint it Black.” I can’t guarantee this will carry into our version, but if you hear anything that sounds suspiciously like The Rolling Stones... I called it.

Actually, I should note: It’s possible that Absolute Balance Egg is from an even older Seazer production and was recycled in both this play and this CD. One can never rule that out.

8) 人間人形 ―空想・イン・ザ・架空―/Philosophical Bread (?) Seed

This sounds like an alchemy thing, and I’m not ruling that out, but the results that I found searching “philosophical bread” showed me it’s a very common metaphor used in many contexts. Generally it refers to “higher learning” of spiritual matters, sometimes specifically “to know the mind of God.” Sometimes it’s treated as the ultimate endeavor, sometimes as pointless. Seeds, I suppose, would be the beginning of that.

Note: "Bread,” in Japanese, is パン (pan) , and the Greek god Pan sometimes has his name written the same way. It’s very possible that パン is actually referring to the god here and shouldn’t be translated as “bread,” but we don’t know at this point. Either is plausible.

9) 法王驢馬寓意画意オペレッタ1 ―その声は人間の鳴き声に似る―/The Pope Ass Allegory Symbolism Operetta 1 -That Voice Is Like the Cry of a Human Being

The Papal Ass or Pope Ass, known from its use in a highly influential pamphlet by Martin Luther and Melanchthon, is often described as a caricature of the Pope. However, it’s not satirical like most modern political cartoons.It’s in fact based on the “monstrous birth” reports that were very popular at the time; this genre was referenced in the Rose Egg Sophia CD. To fully understand what the Papal Ass meant to its original audience, it’s necessary to have some understanding of the genre, so I’ll go into that.

It’s important to understand that such records are not always made-up, although they are frequently exaggerated. For instance, researching the term クシュポデュメー (no, I don’t know how to spell it) from Rose Egg Sophia’s Puchibanshou song (doragon no kodomo, offspring of a dragon) led me to a description of a “dragon” born with two heads, four arms, two legs, and one pelvis, said to have been part of the court of James III of Scotland. As a matter of fact, this bodily description corresponds to contemporary reports of a pair of conjoined twins known as the Scottish brothers, who were part of this king’s court. Many so-called “monsters,” from medieval times up until the xth century, were people. This particular one, however, was an animal, an actual donkey (or ass).

Luther wrote this for an updated 1535 version of the pamphlet:

The Papal Ass is itself a dreadful, ugly, terrifying picture, and the longer one looks at it, the more terrifying it seems. However nothing is so completely terrifying as the fact that God himself made and revealed such a wonder and such a monstrous image. If a human had invented, carved or painted it, one would scorn or laugh at it. However since the highest Majesty himself created and depicted it, the whole world should be dismayed and quake, for from it one fully understands what he thought of and intended.

From Monstrous Births and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Germany by Jennifer Spinks:

I was able to find a book, Monstrous Births and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Germany, that goes into great detail on how this was used by the early Protestant movement and has an entire chapter on this pamphlet: “Monstrous births could be viewed in positive and sympathetic terms, as the previous chapters have demonstrated. Yet this 1523 pamphlet by the two most important figures of the Lutheran Reformation forms a decisive shift in attitude, in which interpretation and representation became not only more polemical – and particularly anti-papal – but took on a notably apocalyptic aspect.” Of the Papal Ass and one of its contemporaries, the moon-calf, the author says, “The bodies of the monsters became texts to be read and argumentatively decoded using highly visual language.”

Notably, Luther and his coauthor did not invent the Papal Ass; they only named it. As Jennifer Spinks writes in this book:

The Papal Ass, washed up on the banks of the Tiber in Rome in 1495, made its way to Germany in visual form via an engraving by the Bohemian artist Wenzel von Olmutz, published in the late fifteenth century. Several decades later, and perhaps prompted by his colleague Melanchthon... Luther first became intrigued by the then-nameless monstrous birth and sought to incorporate it into his eschatological world view. He wrote a homiletic epistle that year (on the second Sunday in Advent, concerning Luke 21:25–33) titled ‘A Christian and well-substantiated proof of the Day of Judgement, and of the signs that it cannot now be far off ’. Although they were not referred to in Luke, Luther explicitly added monstrous creatures to his list and framed this addition as an attack on Rome and the papacy.

As for the pamphlet that made the Papal Ass famous, however, the section devoted to the Papal Ass was written by Luther’s coauthor, not Luther himself. Spinks states:

Melanchthon analyses the creature one body part at a time, utilizing biblical references, and conveying a central message about the corruption of the church in Rome as revealed by its bizarre physical structure. He begins his analysis of the Papal Ass with a reference to the Book of Daniel: ‘God has always indicated his grace or wrath by many signs, and in particular He has used such miracles for speaking to the rulers, as we see in Daniel’.

Melanchthon, she writes, “presents God in the guise of an artist who uses his creations to convey visual messages.”

The Papal Ass... has an almost jarring, collage-like combination of sharply delineated but ill-matching body parts. Step by step, Melanchthon describes and interprets these individual elements. He begins with... ‘Firstly, the head of the ass represents the Pope’. The Pope, he indicates... has brought the church into a worldly and physical, rather than spiritual, state. The low state of the ass in the animal kingdom is underscored through a reference to Exodus 13:13, in which first-born children and animals are consecrated to God: ‘but every fi rst-born donkey you will redeem with a lamb or kid; if you do not redeem it, you must break its neck’. That is, God does not value donkeys (or asses) as he does other creatures. That the head of the Papal Ass is formed in this way is a true sign of the creature’s low state.

Next, Melanchthon addresses one hand, which ‘like an elephant’s foot rep-resents the spiritual regime of the Pope’. As forcefully as an elephant, the Pope’s ‘regime’ makes its way into and corrupts souls with innumerable and intolerable laws. Melanchthon adds, in a metaphor that it is easy to imagine seizing the imagination of audiences: ‘like the great heavy elephant it tramples and grinds down everything that it comes across’. The human-shaped other hand of the Papal Ass, in turn, represented the Pope’s worldly ‘regiment’; that is, those secular rulers who gave support to the papal office. In Cranach’s woodcut accompanying the text, these hands are neatly displayed one above the other, emphasizing through contrast the peculiarity of the elephant hand. The right foot of the creature, in the form of the foot of an ox, is aligned by Melanchthon with the elephant-shaped right hand. The foot represents the servants of the church: ‘the papal teachers, preachers, priests and confessors, and particularly the scholastic theologians’. That is, it refers to those responsible, in the Pope’s name, for oppressing the ‘poor folk’ (‘arme volck’) with their activities. Identifying papal supporters with the End Times, Melanchthon refers the reader to Matthew 24:4: ‘There will come false Christians and false prophets’. The other foot, in the shape of a claw, is aligned with the human-shaped hand. It represents canons, as worldly servants of the popes. Melanchthon’s language becomes still more physical in the next section, in which the female belly and breasts of the Papal Ass are described: “[these] represent the body of the papacy: that is Cardinals, bishops, clerics, monks, students ... their life is simply guzzling food, boozing, unchaste lechery, and leading the ‘good life’ on earth.”

Melanchthon’s understanding of the belly and breasts as especially potent symbols was to be intensified in a revised 1535 edition of the pamphlet... In this 1523 version, however, he turns fairly rapidly to the arms, legs and back of the creature, with a metaphor that is a little less obvious: the scales on these body parts represent secular rulers, who tolerate the failings of the papal system, effectively protecting it as they cling on to its ‘body’. This passage makes a particularly intriguing visual appeal to the reader or listener. The innocuous scales represented in the woodcut must be imaginatively reconfigured by the reader into a multitude of earthly rulers. Much more anthropomorphic in form are the faces of the old man and dragon (‘trach’) that emerge from the Papal Ass’s backside. The man represents the coming end of the papacy, already growing old; the dragon represents the bulls and books published by popes with the purpose of universally enforcing their will. Melanchthon’s tenth and final point shifts away from the body of the creature and to the location where it was found: Rome... The distinctive shape of the Castel Sant Angelo in Rome is carefully delineated, and for those not familiar with the famous tower, the fluttering flag with the crossed papal keys could inform even the least educated of the connection with Rome and the papacy. The tower to the right is the Tor di nona, used as the papal prison. Dramatically, in his final point, Melanchthon claims that finding the creature dead, ‘confirms that the papacy is coming to an end’.

Also:

In 1535 Melanchthon prepared a new edition of his text on the Papal Ass, still illustrated by the original Cranach image. Melanchthon’s expanded text takes sharper, more polemical aim at the papacy in a number of short new passages, including one on the ass’s head as a demonstration of the foolishness of the Pope, and another on the human hand as a sign the worldly, aggressive ambitions of the Pope. Two particularly substantial new sections dramatically increase the anti-papal and also the apocalyptic import of the Papal Ass. Several new pages on the breasts and belly of the creature emphasize the themes of whoring and sin (and implicitly, perhaps, refer to the whore of Babylon), while the ‘shameless female belly’ (‘vnuerschampt frawen bauch’) represents the Antichrist’s worst excesses.

More from Spinks about what made this method of symbolism unique:

Some pre-Reformation publications had ascribed specific meanings to individual body parts in monstrous births, like the conjoined foreheads of the Worms twins. Yet none had so rigorously and polemically done so as Luther and Melanchthon’s publication. This pamphlet is at the heart of a tangible shift in the representation and interpretation of monstrous births, and one that fitted the aggressively polemical culture of the early Reformation... This period saw the rise of vigorous debates and fundamental shifts in visual culture. The most famous of these developments was the wave of iconoclasm, which saw the destruction of religious images and objects. More moderate ‘reforms’ of imagery included a move to remove any hint of lasciviousness (especially in female figures) in the images on church walls. Martin Luther had a pragmatic attitude towards the use of religious images, and contributed to a culture of visual propaganda that stood on the borderline of the religious and the secular. One of the most important aspects of the visual culture of the Reformation was the vigorous use of printed propaganda, deployed.. with remarkable success. Robert Scribner observed that ‘Luther and other reformers spoke of pious images as masks (larvae) behind which the devil lurked, hoping to lure souls to damnation’. This did not mean that Luther rejected the use of images, and Scribner provided examples of how what he called the ‘semiology of arousal’ (which went well beyond the sensual) could be ‘employed also for its revelatory effect, especially in Reformation propaganda, putting into practice Luther’s notion of the masks of the devil disguising diabolical reality’... Religious imagery nonetheless increasingly moved outside relatively controlled environments like church walls and elite manuscripts, and into the turbulent new world created by the widely available printed image.... Luther’s ideas about visual images are closely bound up with his views on the apocalyptic Book of Revelation – a connection seen in microcosm in the 1523 pamphlet.

The Apocalypse While Albrecht Dürer had created what many regard as the definitive illustrated series of the Apocalypse in 1498, a flood of other versions appeared in the first half of the sixteenth century.74 The increasing popularity of the Book of Revelation as a subject for illustration during the sixteenth century was evidently connected to the growth of an apocalyptic world view... In this environment there was a tangible value in giving shape to apocalyptic imagery, and a ready audience for the new editions that came onto the market. As Bernd Moeller has identified, the End Times (‘Endzeit’) were one of the four most popular subjects for sermons preached in German towns in the early Reformation period.

Another updated version was published in 1549 without Melanchthon’s permission, edited to include past writings of his that he had since renounced in favor of compromise.

Flacius... uses Melanchthon’s text on the Papal Ass... as a springboard to oppose any religious compromise... In an introductory text, Flacius argues that the papacy can be represented in both words and images as worse than the devil or the whore of Babylon from the Book of Revelation. He maintains the highly visual language used by Luther and Melanchthon, and even concludes by claiming that the arts of geometrical and arithmetical proportions are inadequate for the present times, which demanded instead a ‘new swinish art’ (‘newen Sewkunst’). Later in the pamphlet, Flacius adds additional texts that talk of the disastrous events leading up to the Last Days, specifically identifying the Pope as the Whore of Babylon, holding up her goblet, drunk on the blood of Christ, and seated on the back of the seven-headed beast which represented Rome itself (and also the ‘Roemische Reich’, or Roman Empire) and its support of the papacy. The increasingly voluptuous body of the Papal Ass accords with this emphasis on the Babylonian woman.

After this point, “wonder books,” which “collected together monstrous births and various other wonders and disasters across decades, centuries or even millennia,” became more and more common. Apparently, “negative and also apocalyptic rhetoric about monstrous births became still more deeply entrenched in this genre.” By 1569 (when Catholics started appropriating this trend for their counter-Reformation), “Monstrous births and the apocalyptic Book of Revelation were closely enmeshed, and overwhelmingly presented as such in German Reformation and Counter-Reformation print culture.”

Final note: The way “Pope Ass” is written in the title is nonstandard, which is why I went with the literal translation rather than the more common phrase “Papal Ass.” I did find one search result for this phrase that wasn’t about this album, indicating that it’s used in yet another Shibusawa book, 夢の宇宙誌 (this was also the only pre-Seazerian source I could find for クシュポデュメー).

未来のヒユネロトマキア ―狂恋夢・薔薇物語・愛の秘法伝授―/The Future Hypnerotomachia - The Strife of Love in a Dream・The Tale of the Rose・Love’s Secret Initiation -

So... there are many parts to this.

The Future Hypnerotomachia:

That's a reference to the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (”The Strife of Love in a Dream” is included at the end of the title in some editions; it’s a translation of hypnerotomachia) and possibly also The Future Eve (referenced in the Rose Egg Sophia CD, specifically in its version of Saionji’s duel song). You can look in my tag on tumblr for my thoughts as to what that book might signify in relation to Utena.

As for The Tale of the Rose, we all know it as the play in episode 34, but there’s another “Tale of the Rose” I think Seazer is referencing here as well. Seazer mentioned “the medieval Tale of the Rose” as one of the inspirations for the Rose Egg Sophia in its liner notes (I’m working on a translation, off and on). It’s this book. The Japanese title is written the same was as the title of the play is written on the tickets in episode 34; it does not have much in common with the play, but you can think of it as “a way duelists look at Anthy.” You can also think of it as something possibly taught uncritically at Ohtori; you can certainly see its worldview reflected in, say, Miki.

The last part of the title isn’t a specific text, as far as I know, but it does have a traceable origin in, once again, Shibusawa, specifically his essay collection 胡桃の中の世界.

Since this title is about the themes of two or three entire books, I think I will make a Separate post for how those texts relate to Utena--and, of course, a new, updated one once we have the actual lyrics. And possibly another one several years from now when I inevitably translate 胡桃の中の世界.

#revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #rgu #sku #j. a. seazer #tatsuhiko shibusawa #this post has been a long time coming

33 notes · View notes

lupienne · 5 years

Text

Thought I would put up some unfinished days of his Wives smut cause for some reason I was thinking about it? XD I started it a long time ago, inspired by the trend/trope whatever of Negan calling women 'doll'. Anyway it's stupid and just for laughs (and unfinished)

The scene starts with Negan about to bang his wife Nova.

She looked good enough to eat, if she did say so herself. Her long hair swung from a high ponytail and she’d found some pastel purple frilly shit that pushed up her already substantial tits and hugged the ample curve of her ass.

“Mmm. Like what you see, Neegs?” She set her hand on one of the bed’s posts, popped her hip out seductively.

“Fuck yeah.” He slumped in his chair, already pitching a tent in his silk boxers. “Christ, you’re a doll.”

Her seduction faltered. She doubled over in laughter. “A what…?”

“Uh.” Negan blinked, tentatively offering the endearment again. “..a doll?”

“A doll? Like what…a blow-up doll?”

“No-"

“Like…barbie? I don’t remember Barbie bitch having curves like me!”

“It’s just a fucking…thing. Like baby, or sweetie.”

“Baby or sweetie is one thing, but what girl wants to be compared to a creepy toy?” She shuddered. “I never liked dolls. My mom let me watch Chucky when I was a kid and-”

“Yeah, whatever!” He growled. “I won’t call you a fucking doll again! Seriously, Christ on a cracker. Can we get on with the fucking now?”

She grinned. “You had a blow-up doll, didn’t you? Before.”

“Fuck no.” He shifted in the chair, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his tent was starting to collapse. “I didn’t need that shit. I had pussy on fuckin’ tap, just like I do now.”

“Yeah right. You were probably plowing some doll’s plastic hole every night.” She approached him, hips swaying. “Probably gave her some stupid name, like Bambi or Tootsie.”

“Tootsie.” He snorted. “Yeah, you got me, babe. I totally had a fucking blow-up doll named Tootsie. She had great tits. But you know what I really liked about ole Toots? She kept her fucking mouth shut until it came time for me to shove my cock in it.”

She doubled over in laughter. “Well, that’s no good! She didn’t have a pull string so she could talk about how huge your dick is?”

“Look, bitch, I tore a hole in the bottom of Tootsie’s fucking fuck hole. I exceeded the goddamn size limitations.”

She giggled. “So…you had the extra small model, then?”

“You know what little Negan is telling me? He'd rather just have my company. Someone who won't judge and laugh.”

“I'm not judging and laughing.” She giggled.

“Fuck off, Nova.”

“Suit yourself.” She left him alone to his fapping, while a delicious idea formed in her mind.

The next day, she headed down to the storage room. In her previous wife days, she'd worked there. She knew there was an item, that, despite being not expensive point-wise, had never been purchased. She hoped it was still there.

Mark was in the storeroom. She bounced in delight when he found the item. It was easy to get him to let it go. She threatened to make up a lie that he wanted to fuck Amber. She doubted it was a lie, anyway.

“You don't need to coerce me,” he scowled, shoving the item into her hands. “You're a Wife. You get whatever you want, free.”

(skipped ahead, Nova brings Negan into his bedroom, she says they have company or are gonna have a threesome or something. )

---

“Let me introduce you to...your newest wife.” Nova gestured grandiosely to the figure seated in the armchair. “Tootsie...meet Negan.”

“Oh, what the fuck?” Negan's lip curled.

“What kind of greeting is that? Tootsie has been waiting all day to see you!”

“Where the fuck did you get that?”

“Tootsie was in the storage room. She's been down there a while. Gathering dust, and getting really really horny.”

“I can only imagine.”

Nova trotted to the chair, where she draped her arm around the beautiful Tootsie. Her inflatable hips were wide, her figure hourglass. Her big breasts full of hot air, and her head too. The blow-up doll had red lips that were fit for a cock. Nova had taken a leopard print lingerie set and slipped it over the doll's garishly painted naughty bits.

“She's a sweet girl, Neegs. Such a doll.”

(skip ahead. Also somewhere in here Nova said she's gonna call Negan 'action figure'. (Because boys don't play with 'dolls' they play with 'action figures' so it's her take on calling him 'doll'. Oh yeah and he says he'll fuck the doll if she lets him fuck her ass lmao and she's like ok)

“God, I feel fucking stupid.” Negan contemplated the doll. “You seriously want to see this?” He grunted, answering his own question. “Of course you fucking do. You love nothing more than seeing me look like an idiot.”

“You won't look like an idiot, you're gonna look totally sexy!”

He didn't buy that, and she was looking forward to seeing how stupid he was gonna look humping ole Tootsie.

He stuck his fingers in the doll's snatch again. “Gonna need that lube,” he said. She threw the bottle at him, and he caught it neatly in one hand. She watched with a grin as he turned the doll upside down, squirting the strawberry scented gel into her love-hole.

“Ooh Tootsie,” he cooed, sliding his fingers under her bra. “You're getting so wet for me,doll.”

“Mmm, yeah she is. Before I introduced you, Tootsie was telling me all about how hot she thinks you are. How much she's been wanting to fuck you.”

“Is that right? You dirty little fuck-doll. You've been drooling over Negan's big cock, huh?” He wrenched her panties down and threw them across the room. “Oooh, fuck yeah. She is dripping wet.” He spread one inflatable leg so Nova could see the lube oozing down.

Nova moved to the bed, sitting cross-legged and pulling Tootsie's head into her lap. She looked down at the doll's face. The big blue eyes, the pupils round and wide. Her mouth was gaped open, like a big red lifesaver plunked onto her face. She looked like she'd just gotten a dick shoved up her ass. The expression was ridiculous, but maybe men liked that? That they could stun a girl with nothing but their dick?

She was unpleasantly reminded of her deal. Butt sex. Shit. I'm gonna have that same look later.

“Oh, Negan,” she trilled, moving Tootsie's head. “I need your big dick in me. Give it to me! I'm so wet for you, action figure!”

“Stop saying that, it sounds fucking stupid.” Negan spread the doll's legs, and then leaned back. He looked doubtful. “Jesus fuck, this is so not turning me on right now.”

“Should I make out with her?”

“That ain't gonna help.” Negan sighed and then took hold of his dick, stroking it roughly a few times. It perked up in his hand after a moment, and he bit his lip as he pressed the head against Tootsie's opening.

“Oh, oh!” Nova cried out, tilting Tootsie's head back as Negan pressed himself into the doll.

The plastic squeaked and made rubbery sounds as Negan leaned more heavily onto it. Her legs spread wide on either side of him; ole Tootsie sure was flexible!

“Oh ahh! Your dick is so big, Negan! You're stretching my little pussy out!” She let out a long, exaggerated groan.

“Enough with the sound effects.” He shook his head, nudging the doll forward as he buried himself fully.

“How's that feel, Neegs? Like a real pussy?”

“Not exactly.” He bumped his pelvis into the doll a few times. “The nubbies feel ok, I guess. Better than if it was just smooth, but I don't see this fuckin' thing getting me off.”

“You haven't even tried yet!” She scowled.

“I figured I'd start slow, give Tootsie a little time to adjust to a goddamn horse dick like mine.”

“Oh, right. Shit, it's like having a baby in reverse.”

“Fucking gross.” He made a face.

Nova laughed, then flopped Tootsie's head. “Fuck me, Negan!” She shrilled. “I'm your little doll!”

“Ugh.” He grunted, and then pressed Tootsie firmly to the bed. Nova stifled a giggle as Negan awkwardly started to thrust into the inflatable woman.

Tootsie made noises like a tormented balloon. Rubbery squeaks and squawks. She kept trying to rocket out of Negan's grip, like a pool floatie did when forced underwater. He gripped onto her shoulder, his hand sinking into the cheap plastic.

“Goddamn it. Don't think Tootsie's into it.”

Nova rolled onto her side, propping her head up as she watched him plow the doll into the mattress.

Soon, Tootsie was making another noise than rubber squeaks or Nova's occasional moans. She burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, is Tootsie queefing?"

He stopped for a moment. “What the fuck is a queef?”

“When your pussy farts.”

“I had no fuckin' clue that actually had a name.” He pushed back in and sure enough, Tootsie's vagina emitted an airy, wet sound.

“That's a queef!” She said gleefully.

“Fuckin' queef ain't doing shit for me.” He gave it to the doll hard for a minute, the mattress adding to the chorus with its own squeals.

“Oh yes! Harder, action figure!”

“Shut that shit up!”

Nova gasped when he gave Tootsie a smack across the face. “Hey!”

“What? Tootsie likes it hard and rough, don't you, little fuck doll?” He grinned, his eyes gleaming evilly. “You like to be used like a little fuckin' cuntrag, don't you?” His big hands locked around her neck and squeezed.

“No, Negan! Tootsie isn't into that! You're confusing her for Jazzi.”

He gripped both of Tootsie's boobs hard. “I don't hear the bitch complaining. In fact, I'm starting to like her. She keeps her fuckin' mouth shut.” He took Tootsie to the floor, attempting to fuck her doggy style. The doll's legs and arms stuck straight out, and her stunned face was ground against the floor boards.

She was laughing again, because Negan looked so stupid with his ass in the air, trying to piledrive the doll into the ground.

“Take it, you fuckin' whore.” He rolled onto his back, letting Tootsie ride him. Or rather, moving the doll around on top of him. He smacked her ass, and the head of the doll came forward and bopped him in the face. “Bitch!”

“Ha, ha! Yeah, get him, Tootsie! Don't let him call you that shit!”

He stood up, dragging the doll to the bed, where he sat on the edge and plunked her back in his lap.

“You hit me again, bitch, and I'm gonna split your asshole open with my horse dick. Oh, you would like that, you tight little tart? Mmm. A lot tighter than my other bitches.”

“Hey, fuck you, asshole!” Nova squealed. “I didn't bring Tootise here so you could abuse her!”

Negan smirked. “Tootise likes it. She's into this shit.”

Nova frowned.

“You haven't heard the shit she's been whispering in my ear.” Negan grit his teeth for a second...maybe the doll was gonna get him off, after all. “And speaking of assholes... how about you get that little balloon knot ready for me, huh? I'm ready to switch to the younger, sexier model.”

She swallowed hard. “I... I didn't say we were gonna do that tonight.”

(ok that's about it. honestly I think if I ever do finish this I'll just keep the ass-sex stuff out and stick to blow-up doll fucking because really that's all this smut needs. LOL)

#comic negan #smut #stupid smut #lup's writing #shit post fic #I'll add the cut later it's not working right now XD

9 notes · View notes

tripstations · 5 years

Text

24 of the world’s most unusual landscapes

(CNN) — While there are plenty of awe-inspiring man-made destinations around the globe, nothing is as creative as nature.

From trees that resemble monsters, to colorful sinkholes, towering rock formations and waterfalls of molten lava, these are some of the most unusual and fascinating landscapes in the world.

Kingley Vale, Sussex, United Kingdom

Gnarled and twisted over centuries, the yew trees of Kingley Vale could have been lifted straight from a Gothic fairy tale. Some are believed to be the oldest living things in Britain, dating back 2,000 years.

Yew tree groves were decimated in the 15th century, their wood used for longbows, making this stand of trees truly unique.

Fairy Chimneys, Turkey

These unusual fairy chimney rock formations can be found in the Cappadocia region of Goreme, Turkey.

Courtney Bonnell/AP

The Fairy Chimneys of Cappadocia in central Turkey are a geological marvel.

The hard basalt columns are the result of the surrounding, softer rock eroding over thousands of years, creating towers that appear otherworldly.

What makes them truly special, however, is the cave systems and cities dug out beneath them by persecuted early Christians and used whenever invaders passed along nearby trading routes.

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

The Giant’s Causeway became Northern Ireland’s first World Heritage Site in 1986.

Paul Faith/PA Wire/AP

On the wild north Atlantic Coast of Northern Ireland, Giant’s Causeway is the stuff of actual legend.

The story goest that it was created by the giant Finn McCool to face off against his Scottish rival Benandonner, and destroyed by the latter as he retreated home.

While the reality is a touch less fantastical, it’s no no less amazing. The pillars are the result of lava cooling and contracting over millions of years.

Sister formations can be found at Fingal’s Cave in Staffa, Scotland, all part of the same lava flow.

Moeraki Boulders, New Zealand

The Moeraki Boulders lie scattered along Koekohe Beach in New Zealand’s South Island.

Kai Schworer/dpa/AP

The large, spherical Moeraki Boulders could easily be mistaken for man-made creations that have washed up on Koekohe Beach on the North Otago coast.

Local Maori legend claims they are the remnants of fishing baskets and fruits that came ashore when their Araiteuru Canoe was wrecked bringing their ancestors to New Zealand’s South Island.

In truth, these two-meter-high stones were created by mudstone hardening over five million years, before appearing as surrounding rocks were eroded.

Great Blue Hole, Belize

This huge underwater sinkhole is positioned off the coast of Belize.

The Asahi Shimbun/Getty Images

At 300 meters wide and around 125 meters deep, the Great Blue Hole is the biggest sinkhole in the world.

Part of the Belize Barrier Reef System, the hole was formed as sea levels rose thousands of years ago, flooding its deep caves.

Made famous by renowned marine explorer Jacques Cousteau, recent submarine trips have created new 3D sonar maps, showing never-before-seen mineral formations close to the hole’s bottom.

Cano Cristales, Colombia

Cano Cristales is often referred to as the “River of Five Colors.”

Kike Calvo/AP

In the brief period between Colombia’s wet and dry seasons, the waters of Cano Cristales become a riot of red, yellow and green.

This vibrant occurrence is due to Macarenia clavigera, a plant found on the riverbed.

It only turns red between September and November, which is after the fast-flowing water of the wet season abates, but before the dry season evaporates too much water for it to keep its colorful look.

Swimmers are allowed in certain sections, but can’t wear sunscreen in order to protect the fragile ecosystem.

Dead Vlei, Namibia

Dead Vlei — one of the most intriguing places in Namibia.

Matthias Toedt/dpa/AP

Dead Vlei, literally dead marsh, sits among the tallest sand dunes in the world, with some as high as 400 meters.

Once abundant, the now almost barren area is home to a vast stand of dead Camel Thorn trees, dried out because of an intense change in climate 900 years ago.

The dry weather means they cannot decompose, creating a truly eerie landscape.

Chocolate Hills, Philippines

The Chocolate Hills — a fascinating natural wonder.

Lionel Bonaventure/AFP/Getty Images

The rolling Chocolate Hills of Bohol in the Philippines could easily be mistaken for a child’s landscape drawing.

But these 1,268 hills are very much a natural phenomenon: conical limestone peaks formed through the actions of water and erosion over thousands of years.

Their name derives from their grass covering, which turns brown during the dry season, with December to March the best time to visit. Legend has it the hills are the dried tears of a heartbroken giant. While the truth is more prosaic, the views are still spectacular.

Kilauea, Hawaii

Kilauea is one of the most active volcanoes in the world.

U.S. Geological Survey/AP

The most active volcano on the island of Hawaii, Kilauea is in a state of near constant eruption, molten lava oozing down roads and destroying homes and holiday resorts.

Its 2018 eruption saw vents explode, rivers of lava flowing into the Pacific Ocean and sending toxic fumes into the air.

Believed to be between 210,000 and 280,000 years old , it surfaced above sea level on the southern eastern shore of the island around 100,000 years ago.

Lake Hillier, Australia

Australia’s “pink lake” is 600 meters long and 250 meters wide.

Shutterstock

Just a few meters from the sand and surf on the coast of Middle Island, in Australia’s Recherche Archipelago, Lake Hillier’s brash pink water is in stark contrast to the bright blue of the nearby ocean.

Its color is thought to be derived from algae called Dunaliella salina, which produces a pigment that turns the salty water a seemingly unnatural hue.

Halophilic bacteria in the salt crusts that surround its banks are also considered to be behind the phenomenon.

Devils Tower, Wyoming

Devils Tower — the first U.S. national monument.

Mladen Antono/AFP/Getty Images

Protruding high from the prairie into the Wyoming sky, Devils Tower (the apostrophe omitted ever since it was given the name in the 19th century) is sacred to several Native American tribes.

A butte rising some 385 meters above the Belle Fourche River, it was formed by surrounding sedimentary rocks eroding, leaving the igneous rocks to stand sentinel over the area.

The Lakota believe Devils Tower rose to protect two girls from a chasing bear, the marks surrounding the tower left by its claws.

Sci-fi aficionados will recognize it as the alien rendezvous point from Steven Spielberg’s 1977 movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.”

Dallol, Ethiopia

The Dallol region is the hottest place on the planet.

Carl Court/Getty Images

With temperatures averaging a blistering 94 degrees Fahrenheit, Dallol is one of the most inhospitable places on Earth.

Close to the border with Eritrea, its ethereal, Martian landscape sits within the Danakil Depression.

Besides its ungodly heat, Dallol is best known for its colorful hydrothermal fields, with aquamarine green pools and yellow rocks appearing like a surrealist painting against the florid red rock formations.

The bright colors are due to inorganic iron oxidation.

The Eye of the Sahara, Mauritania

The Richat Structure can be seen from space.

George Steinmetz/Corbis Documentary/Getty Images

Known also as the Richat Structure, the Eye of the Sahara looks pretty much like any other part of this continent-straddling desert from the ground. But from up in space, this 40-kilometer wide geological marvel is something else.

Believed to be an eroded dome, rather than an impact crater, it resembles a fossilized ammonite when seen from Earth’s orbit.

Snow Monsters, Mount Zao, Japan

Mount Zao is home to Japan’s spectacular snow monsters.

Kyodo/AP

High in Japan’s northern Tohoku region, Mount Zao is home to this vast swathe of icy sculptures. As winter comes on hard and harsh, Siberian winds blow across the Zao range and snow falls and freezes on the mountain’s trees.

The trees then freeze into interesting forms, resembling creatures straight out of a manga comic.

Regular light shows help add to their allure after dark, although a cable car across their peaks in daylight is just as fascinating.

Valley of the Moon, Argentina

This remote valley is based in a protected area of the South American country.

Insights/UIG/Getty Images

The clue’s in the name of this vast area in northern Argentina: lunar landscapes of wind blasted rock, where the night skies are illuminated by billions of stars and the moon glows.

Also known as the Ischigualasto Provincial Park, its most famous sights include The Sphinx, which resembles its Ancient Egyptian namesake.

There’s also The Mushroom, a tower that blooms out into a wide formation at its summit and the Bowling Field, where spherical rocks dot the landscape.

Vermilion Cliffs, Arizona

The Vermillion Cliffs span the Utah-Arizona border.

Prisma by Dukas/UIG/Getty Images

Just south of the Utah state line, Vermilion Cliffs is one of the most visually arresting places in the United States.

The area’s swirling sandstone canyons and arches are ripe for exploration, with few visitors likely to be encountered.

The vast cliffs themselves, which run for 48 kilometers and range between 2,000 and 3,000 feet, can be seen in all their glory from Highway 89A.

Haukadalur geothermal field, Iceland

The oldest account of these geothermal fields date back to 1294.

Mikel Bilbao/VW PICS/UIG/Getty Images

Iceland’s geothermic wonders make it a paradise for seekers of weird and wonderful landscapes.

Most famous for its Geysir and Strokkur erupting hot springs, this vast area, 60 kilometers east of Reykjavik, is worth taking time to explore, especially as there’s a handy campsite close by.

Mentions of the bubbling, geothermal fields here date back to 1294, when they were activated by an earthquake.

Trollkirka Caves, Norway

The Trollkirka — one of Norway’s longest limestone caves.

Shutterstock

Norway’s Trollkirka Caves, literally Troll Church Caves, aren’t places of worship in the traditional sense. Instead, they’re marble and limestone marvels that intrepid visitors can enter after a strenuous hike.

The key attraction here is the 70-meter main cave, which boasts a waterfall. Smaller grottoes play home to sparkling pools, the water bright and clear against the white rock, which appears to have folded in on itself over million years.

Bryce Canyon, Utah

Bryce Canyon National Park’s rocks look red, orange and white against the sky.

Ethan Miller/Getty Images

Far less popular than nearby Grand Canyon National Park, Bryce Canyon is arguably every bit as extraordinary.

It appears red, white and yellow against the bright blue sky thanks to the “hoodoos” that stand to attention for miles in every direction.

These columns, made of soft rock at the bottom and harder rock at the top, are the result of millennia of weathering and erosion. They sit within a series of huge natural amphitheaters that look spectacular at sunset.

Dead Sea, Israel

The Dead Sea is positioned between Israel and Jordan.

Ahmad Abdo/AFP/Getty Images

The lowest point on Earth, the Dead Sea is more than nine times saltier than the sea.

Thought to be part of a rift zone that extends north into Turkey, it’s believed to have once been part of a lagoon connected to the Mediterranean.

Salt deposits on its bottom ensure that bathers remain buoyant, while the water’s rejuvenating properties have made it a go to for health tourists for centuries.

Spotted Lake, Canada

Canada’s Spotted Lake — a remarkable sight.

Shutterstock

In the heart of British Columbia, Spotted Lake looks like your average body of freshwater during winter. But as temperatures rise and the water evaporates, it becomes something wholly different.

Huge blue, yellow and green spots appear, the result of deposits of magnesium sulphates, sodium sulphates and calcium.

The Okanagan First Nations people believed the spots to have different curative properties, they have owned the surrounding land since 2001.

Blood Falls, Antarctica

This incredible natural phenomenon was discovered by Australian geologist Griffith Taylor in 1911.

Mark Ralston/AFP/Getty Images

Flowing from Alaska’s Taylor Glacier, Blood Falls’ ghoulish color is rooted in deep time.

In 2017, scientists discovered the scarlet hue is due to oxidized iron in brine saltwater, which has taken one and a half million years to get to the falls, rather than discoloration by algae as previously thought.

When the water makes contact with oxygen, it oxidizes and turns red.

A brine lake underneath the glacier, exposed to iron rich rocks, is believed to be the water’s source.

Zhangye Danxia Landform Geological Park, China

The “Rainbow Mountains” cover an area of 322 square kilometers.

Han jiajun/Imaginechina/AP

The “Rainbow Mountains” of the Zhangye Danxia Landform Geological Park are striking examples of what millions of years geological activity can do to a landscape.

Made up of layers of sandstone, mudstone and multicolored sedimentary rocks laid down over millions of years, their sharp tilt is due to the movement of the tectonic plates which also formed the Himalaya.

River erosion helped form the deep gorges and high peaks, with purple, green, yellow and red strata creating a brash and bright vista.

Darvaza Gas Crater, Turkmenistan

The Darvaza Gas Crater sits in the middle of the Karakum Desert.

Giles Clarke/Getty Images

Known by locals as the Door to Hell, the Darvaza Gas Crater is a natural phenomenon brought about by man less than half a century ago.

While searching for oil, Soviet engineers discovered a natural gas pocket that soon collapsed, consuming their equipment.

Panicked by the release of methane potentially killing wildlife in the surrounding Karakum Desert, scientists set the gas crater alight in the hope it would soon burn out.

Today, it still burns brightly, to a depth of 30 meters, and has become a major draw for tourists heading to this little-visited country in Central Asia.

The post 24 of the world’s most unusual landscapes appeared first on Tripstations.

from Tripstations http://bit.ly/2wDRrla via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Tripstations

1 note · View note

leonawriter · 7 years

Text

Let The Lion Carry You On Her Back

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Characters: Thace, Keith’s Mother, Keith, assorted other original.

Summary: It's only by chance that Thace finds the Blue Lion before the rest of the Galra Empire. It's only circumstance that he has a son that isn't good at keeping secrets well enough to live the life of an undercover rebel's child. The two do, however, go together incredibly well.

It's a good thing the Blue Lion is most compassionate - as well as the most open to strange suggestions.

...

"Do you think we did the right thing?" It had been a week since the naming ceremony, and they now had a bundle of scrawny Galra youngling sharing their room, claws not yet sharp enough to do anything other than prod and poke, eyes not yet ready to open. "Giving him a soft name. So many nowadays have hard names, for warriors. Galrans who don't live up to that... they tend to stick out."

Which he had learned well enough from his own childhood.

"But Kethe is a warrior's name, Thace. Anyone who knows what it means will know that."

Thace sighed.

"I'll admit, that's another thing I'm worried about." From his place in his crib, Kethe chuffed quietly in his sleep, hopefully from pleasant dreams. His first fur was still growing in, so only his ears were truly visible from beneath the blankets intended to keep him warm even on the coolest night. "Our position is tenuous enough with my line of work. If anyone questions us too closely..."

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly, to ward off the oncoming visions of Zarkon's men storming into his home, taking his life-partner and his child. Execution for one, and indoctrination for the other.

The two of them had been lucky, so far. Lucky to have been able to keep their heads, to not be fooled by the propaganda of Zarkon's empire. Lucky to have stumbled upon the rebel cell - or, to be more exact, to have been approached.

"Hush. They won't. Why would they? Neither of us are anything special. You're just a private in the army, and I'm an accountant back on Galra you hardly even see because you're shipped off-planet so often. And now you'll hardly get to see either of us, not just me."

If the tone she was taking was supposed to make him feel guilty, it was certainly doing its job. He turned back toward her, and leaned his head on her shoulder with a smile he wished was more genuine than it was. He could tell by the way she held him so tightly, however, that she knew exactly how he felt - that she felt it, too, but she was trying not to let the fear overtake her. To keep some kind of hold on hope.

We're just two people. A handful or so, scattered every so often in the known galaxy, whose rebellions are either loud or quiet. It isn't much, but we do what we can.

But Zarkon has been ruling for over ten thousand years by now. Pockets of rebellion aren't ever going to be enough. And the last time anyone tried to create a large-scale army, a few centuries ago... we're still suffering from that defeat, even now.

His heart beat faster as he realised that, yet again, his thoughts had strayed toward a dangerous subject - the idea that perhaps they needed something stronger than any number of rebel cells, stronger than a whole fleet of battleships. The kind of warrior that only legends spoke of... that Zarkon wanted above all else.

...

By the time five cycles had passed, it wasn't Kethe's name that was the problem. The druids had begun to take an interest in their boy, and it was becoming quickly apparent that Kethe didn't have the temperament for working undercover that his parents had.

He wasn't just too young. He was too outspoken, too angry, and just didn't seem to understand when it happened to not be a good time to say something truly dangerous - they'd had to fast talk themselves out of far too many situations that could have turned sour very quickly, and it was starting to give both of Kethe's parents the kind of stress that they were worried their fur would start to grow out grey, one of these days, and they'd be mistaken for a druid themselves.

It's pure luck that Thace lands a recon mission to a blue planet with three other crewmates who also happen to be rebels, or rebel sympathisers. It means he can let his guard down, just a bit - not completely, never completely - but it also means that when they find the carvings, one of them brushing aside old mud to see angular lines that all came together to form an image the likes of which would usually only be talked of with caution, with at least one person wondering if it was even real.

it took them most of a day to clear away the rest of the walls, uncovering the markings and sometimes making wrong turns, never quite sure that they were going in the right direction when there were multiple turnings and never certain that the Lion would even still be there.

It was, however. When they cleared the last turning, there it was - as tall as the ceiling, taller than most multi-storey buildings back home, and on top of that, completely unresponsive. It was almost as though the great Blue Lion were nothing more than a larger-than-life statue, standing guard in front of a mound of mud and stone.

While the others began to talk among themselves, asking each other what they were going to do, how they were going to keep this a secret from Zarkon or even if they should - if another patrol found the Lion, then surely they would be found out if they didn't say anything? - Thace considered his own options.

The great blue particle barrier certainly seemed impenetrable, but if he could just...

He heard a shout from one of the others, but his ability to comprehend the words out of the noise was compromised when, as he touched the barrier-

Curious who are you? Anger. Gone. Hurt, still hurting. Gone. What do you want? Not mine. Not Paladin.

He gasped, at the sudden intrusion into his head, the rush of ideas rather than thoughts that came at him in a matter of ticks. He blinked, just to check that - yes, the barrier was still up.

The same part that was sure that he was going to regret ever coming up with crazy ideas on a gut feeling, was also sure that he would probably end up in hysterics over this later. When he had the time and opportunity. But not now. He didn't have the time now.

"Thace, what're you doing?" he heard from a few feet away, a friend he had fought alongside and probably knew him well enough that his worry was well-founded.

"I... have an idea," he said, claw still touching the barrier, not knowing whether it would change things if he took his hand away. "If this works, then it will go well for all of us. Even if the planet is discovered later and thoroughly examined. But it will require everyone to do their part."

Even the Lion, he thought, and the fur on the nape of his neck stood somewhat on end underneath his armour when he felt curiosity being pushed into his head.

He swallowed, half expecting everyone to reject his plan immediately and call him selfish, but no one did.

...

They sent the report back that the planet was uninhabited save for a few native species of fauna and flora, but was capable of maintaining life. Which would likely have it noticed for entirely different reasons.

Then, the moment he was back on Galra, they began to set the rest of the plan in action.

Thace was charged with the hard task of convincing his family to agree to the treasonous idea, something that would have them all killed if they were found out. He half expected to have it be greeted with a fight, to have his life-partner tell him that there was no way that she would ever agree to such a thing - instead, she allowed him to explain it all, down to the very last detail, and then, after asking if he was being completely serious with her, that this wasn't a joke, collapsed into his arms, tears flowing down her face.

"He'll be safe", he remembered telling her, wanting to convince himself as much as he wanted her to believe it, "but we won't be able to see him again."

Kethe was the hardest to convince.

The boy clung to his mother's leg the moment he realised what was going on, spitting and growling that he didn't want to go, a sight that nearly broke his father before the deed was even done, nearly broke his will to be able to do it at all.

Thace had knelt down, taken his son in his arms, and held him close, wishing that he wouldn't have to let go.

"We love you, Kethe. Never forget that. We love you so much. But we want you to be safe. And this... this is the only way either of us could think of to keep you safe."

The three of them left on what one of their allies had keyed into the databases as a family outing, a holiday of sorts, using a simple shuttle to a known system. They would supposedly have a navigational system malfunction, and end up elsewhere - and on the way back, they would be without their son.

Perhaps if Kethe were older, people might question his disappearance more. But given his young age, and his tendency to rush into things headlong without thinking or talking with others first, no one would suspect it would be anything other than a tragic accident. And their grief, no matter that their son would be actually alive and not dead, would be no less real.

...

Somehow, as long as he'd been able to focus on the fact that he and his mama and papa were going away somewhere together, as long as he tried to forget what was actually going on, Kethe was okay.

At some point, he forgot entirely, and even smiled along with everyone when they congratulated his papa for being such a good soldier that he could get a week off with his family, and he looked up the place they were supposed to be going to on the family communications units, and he eagerly joined in as they packed for the trip, not understanding the way his parents didn't seem quite as excited as he was when no one else was looking.

He didn't know how the shuttle's systems worked well enough yet to understand when they changed course, only that it'd take longer to get there - and then, suddenly, there was a commotion, and the radios shut off entirely.

For a while, he sat nervously in his seat, wondering what had gone wrong, until his father twisted around in the pilot's seat, completely relaxed and at ease, telling him it's okay, Kethe, everything's going to plan. Remember what we told you? You're going somewhere that you'll be safe.

They landed on a planet that was nowhere near as fun as the one they'd told everyone they were going to. On the plus side, though, it was starting to feel like an adventure - the kind of adventure that his Papa told him whenever he was home, of explorations and pretending to be bad while actually being good, and hunting down legends. Especially when they found the first of the engraved markings, still covered in mud and dirt in places.

"It's this way," his father said, as he led them through the tunnels, carefully picking their way so that they didn't trip over vines and roots and slippery stones jutting out of the path.

"We're here," his father whispered, their voices echoing in the vast cavern they had all found themselves in.

Kethe had heard stories about Voltron and its Lions. Some of the other children he'd met and played with had boasted that they would be a pilot good enough to take down Voltron itself, never even mind a single Lion on its own. Looking at the blue mechanical animal in front of him now, however, he wondered about that, and thought that maybe none of them would be able to, and that maybe the ship in front of him would be able to take down anything, even one of the big battle cruisers.

"This is my son," he heard his father say, hand up to the blue particle barrier protecting the lion from anything getting in or out. Kethe wondered why his father was talking to the ship. Most pilots did, but his Papa seemed to be thinking like the ship could talk back. "He's the one I want you to take with you."

For a good long minute nothing happens, and Kethe stares, and worry starts to make him bite his lip. He'd wanted to just go home, but - if this went wrong - what if it did go wrong, and they had to explain everything? He'd have to pretend he'd never seen the Lion at all, that he'd never been here, that he didn't know where 'here' was, and he wasn't good at keeping secrets. He just wasn't.

He starts to sniff, his eyes scrunching up as his mind goes around and around in a spiral of how badly things could go wrong, and not knowing what he wants, and the fact that no matter what happens, he's probably going to lose his parents for good.

He isn't watching the Lion when the barrier comes down. He only knows because his mother kneels down and picks him up, drying his eyes and stroking the longer fur on the top of his head in soothing gestures.

"It'll be okay, Kethe. Go on."

She looked over his head towards his father, who nodded, but even he looked nervous when the Lion started moving, and its head was coming down as though it was about to eat them-

Only to open its mouth, a ramp coming down to let them in.

Wonder overtook him once again, curiosity and amazement winning out over everything else as his father gave him the bag full of provisions and the bag full of other things he might need - clothes, markers, pads, in case he couldn't understand anyone when he got to wherever the Lion took him.

He was put in the pilot's chair, small legs dangling free of the ground and barely able to think about climbing off or getting back up on his own, and then he was being kissed on his forehead, and then there was a touch on his mind that said careful and dangerous for small ones and he was moving.

He turned around, grinning, to tell his father how amazing the view was, how fast they were going, only to realise that he was now alone, that the Lion's presence was the only other thing in here, and that they were now bounding out into the open air, and now they were taking off, and now they were breaking through the atmosphere, the planet's surface getting further and further away as the urge to cry became too much to handle.

"I- I wanna go back," he sobbed out, salty tears making his fur clump up uncomfortably, "I want to go home. Take me back home."

But they didn't slow down, and the stars kept racing past.

Understanding flooded him. Care, miss them, wish we could, trickled through. He cried harder than before.

Protect you came through in waves that felt like they would sweep him off his feet if he wasn't careful. The feeling almost reminded him of his mother holding him tightly. Told to protect you, little cub. Not my Paladin, came more ideas. It wasn't like when he tried explaining himself with words. It was more like what he wished speaking with words was like. He caught an impression of gone, of lost, and then - carry you away safely.

He fell asleep curled up in the chair.

...

The journey might have not taken too long, but it felt like it did, even if it didn't. Kethe could be found having half climbed and half fallen off the seat he'd been sleeping in, looking through the bags that had been stowed away in the corners of the cockpit.

He was careful not to get crumbs on the floor, and if they did fall, he tried his best to pick them up, like his Mama had always told him not to make a mess and not to waste his food, but mainly because he was inside the Lion's head, and it'd be rude to be messy in someone's head.

But when they passed yet another planet that they didn't set down on, blue and icy looking and not the kind of place Kethe would want to settle down on anyway, he brought out the pens and the pad, and began to draw.

First, he took out the purple marker, and drew the three of them, two larger purple people, one for his Mama and one for his Papa, and then one smaller one in the middle, naming them all with the letters he'd learned how to use already. Big, and wonky, but definitely readable.

When he'd finished and they weren't stopping anytime soon, he drew one of what he imagined Zarkon looked like on a new page, an angry purple and black scribble coming after the smaller purple Galrans.

At some point, between one planet and the next, he ran out of space in the pad, or forgot to turn the page but just kept carrying on, and now there were blue marks on the otherwise spotless area toward the back of the cockpit, near where he'd come in, and when he felt a presence at the edge of his mind again, like his Mama tapping a claw on his bedroom door, all full of curiosity, he tried to explain.

"I'm drawing you, see? That's your head, and those are your front claws, and those are your back claws, and that's your tail. And that little purple dot right there in your head is me, see? 'Cause next to you, I'm that small."

...

Seeing the planet Blue was hovering over up close was a completely different experience to anything else, to seeing any other planet going by the windows at all. This time, he could practically see the trees, all green, and the water so blue, and land where nothing was growing was so brown.

He barely had time to ask if this was where they were going to hide, before Blue started to bound toward the planet's atmosphere, giving him only ticks to find a good spot to sit and hold on while they went in and down like a meteor.

Stopping, he found, was a lot harder than flying or falling. It was full of bumps and bouncing and, given he wasn't in the chair this time, there wasn't anything soft to cushion the hard jolts.

...

Exploring would take a while longer. First, he had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't just stay there with the Lion. Because the Lion, Blue, had become the only thing left of where he'd come from other than the food he'd nearly gone all the way through on the journey, and the other provisions that'd been packed for him - including the knife he'd found at the bottom of the bag, the familiar shape of it and his family crest on the hilt a constant reminder of home.

Leaving the Lion meant going out onto a strange planet, not knowing what was safe, not knowing if the aliens would be friendly, or knew about Galrans, and no matter if they did or didn't, Zarkon might be coming for him.

He put it off as long as he could. He knew the Lion was good and friendly - they'd been friends for a while after all, hadn't they? - but he didn't know anything else.

Eventually, though, he made hesitant steps toward the way out.

As he went through the tunnels, he remembered how his parents had found the Lion in the first place, and brushed dirt off the walls to make a clean surface, using his claws as the lines and the now nearly dry markers to colour them in. First he drew Blue again, flying through space, an improvement of the last time he'd drawn her. Then he drew the way that there'd been fire surrounding them so that he'd hardly been able to see anything else, the light burning his sensitive eyes for a while as they came down through the atmosphere. And, lastly, he drew a figure coming out - but by that point, the markers had finally dried up, leaving his last figure without any colour.

There, he thought, if they come looking, they'll be able to find me, now.

...

Humans were strange and scary, at first. They reminded him a lot of what he'd always been taught Alteans looked like, all pink and brown with small ears and no fur except on their heads, and no claws that could really be called claws. They didn't speak Galran at all, either, so Kethe couldn't understand a word they were saying when he listened in on their conversations.

All of which was bad enough, but then it sounded like one of them was coming closer to his hiding spot, and it wasn't easy to keep calm and not panic, like he'd been told to do, because what if they screamed? What if they didn't understand he wasn't dangerous, like he'd heard happened sometimes with alien species, where a Galran would defend themself from a scared youngling that only saw the - to them - dangerous aliens as a threat. And right now, he was that scared youngling.

I have to not be scary, he started thinking to himself. I have to not be scary.

Sometimes back home, he'd been able to pretend he wasn't there, and his parents would spend ages looking for him, to the point where he fell asleep in his hiding place and no one found him until they went to put something on top of him, or walk through him.

That had been fun, usually. Especially once he'd figured out how he was doing it.

This, though - this wasn't fun. His eyes were watering again as he tried to focus, and all he had to focus on was the effort he was putting in to the idea of not being scary and of fitting in.

When the first human came, a human one, first he tensed up, hands going at the ready for a fight, but then he sagged with relief when he realised that her shouting wasn't in anger but it sounded more like his Mama had when she'd finally found him, concern and worry in her voice even though he couldn't understand a word of what she was saying.

When he looked at his hands, he realised that instead of their normal purple, they were now pink - and not just pink, but soft.

...

He was now inside a moving vehicle, the bounces it made on the dry desert reminding him of what it'd been like while Blue was landing. He clutched his bag, the last thing he had that was his, with only his family blade inside it now, close against his chest.

The woman from before talked at him with her strange language.

He blinked at her. She turned to someone else - a man, he thinks - and says something, and they talk for a moment, before she turns back to him, still smiling, still reminding him of his Mama who isn't here.

She says something else, the sound of the words different, but no more understandable.

Kethe holds his bag tighter, wanting to cry but not wanting to do so in front of these strange people.

There's another noise, which makes him look up again, and he finds that she's pointing at herself.

"Eyehm Karen," she says. He blinks. "Karen," she repeats.

Was that supposed to be her name? If it was-

"Kethe! I'm Kethe!"

There's a fast and jubilant chatter from the humans, and he wonders if they'd started to think that he couldn't talk at all, because he can, he just can't talk human.

"Keith, is it? All right, then!"

He blinks again, this time a bit frustrated, because that isn't his name - it's short, and it's harsher, and it doesn't sound like it means the same thing. He points to himself again and repeats his name, rather than the other word.

It doesn't work. The humans keep saying his name wrong, and they still do even when he's started learning enough of their language to try to figure out how to say it's wrong. By that point, they have at least been able to figure out that he doesn't have a family, not anymore, not here, and he needs somewhere to go, and he needs something to eat, because he's hungry.

At some point, he realises that they think his parents are dead. He panics, trying to explain that they aren't - they just aren't here, but it only makes them more set in their idea, which only starts to make him think about what they'd been saying before they left, how dangerous this would be, how if it didn't work then maybe none of them might survive, and it makes him wonder if they might be right.

If they were right, he might never see his parents again. He might never see home again. Home might be dangerous but it was still home.

If they were right, then this was now his home. This planet. These people.

He shivered, feeling the suddenly biting cold, and Karen held out a blanket that he could wrap around himself, the fabric feeling strange against human fingers, but he holds it close all the same.

...

AN: In case it isn't clear - Keith creates the drawings on the walls that he calls 'ancient' in the pilot episode (I'm gonna say that due to desert conditions they only look ancient due to the weathering of 12-13 years) and Blue herself created the ones that actually, y'know, glow. And don't ask how she gets inside that place, I don't even know how most of them get in their hiding places in canon, to be honest.

Also, here in this story Galrans can be trained in how to be a druid, and some can have an aptitude, but you don't necessarily need a druid parent to be a druid or have their capabilities yourself.

On the subject of 'but neither Thace nor Keith are Blue's Paladin, so how do they get inside?' the answer is this - Blue LETS them in. And there's a clear understanding of 'you aren't my Paladin, but you're asking nicely, so I'm doing this of my own free will'. Also - notice that at no point do either Thace or Keith touch the controls. It's ALL Blue's piloting, here.

#Voltron #Galra Keith #voltron stuff #Leona fic

32 notes · View notes

lacommunarde · 7 years

Text

Snart and Scofield to the Company Came - Chapter 6: License Plate Game

Chapter 1: A Case of Mistaken Identities

Chapter 2: STAR Labs

Chapter 3: What is Leonard Snart?

Chapter 4: Safety in Central City

Chapter 5: Meetings and Decisions

Chapter 6: Licence Plate Game

Fandom: The Flash, Prison Break, Arrow (sort of) Rating: Mature Warnings: Prison Break typical level of violence, (sort of major) character death, Torture, Surgery, Cancer, Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse,

Notes: Spoilers through season 4 of Prison Break, The events of the Flash happen ten years earlier: Len Mick and Lisa are ten years younger but everyone else is canon age, Len is 33, Michael is 28/29 when the fic starts, Linc is 32/33, Mick is 35. Snart Family Feels, Scofield and Burrows Family Feels,

Relationships: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, Leonard Snart & Lisa Snart, Lincoln Burrows & Michael Scofield, Michael Scofield/Sara Tancredi, Maricruz Delgado/Fernando Sucre, Michael Scofield & Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield & Christina Scofield, Leonard Snart & Christina Scofield, Mick Rory & Lincoln Burrows,

Characters: Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield, Mick Rory, Lincoln Burrows, Lisa Snart, Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen, Caitlin Snow, Sara Tancredi, Fernando Sucre, LJ Burrows, Joe West, Iris West, Maricruz Delgado, Felicity Smoak, Alex Mahone, Paul Kellerman, Bill Kim, Christina Scofield, General Krantz, Aldo Burrows, Theodore “T-Bag” Bagwell, Wally West, Lewis Snart, Brad Bellick, Oliver Queen, Alex Walker,

Summary: When Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows swing by Central City to get a potential plan B for getting to Panama (in case they need it), they are mistaken for Leonard Snart and Mick Rory. Leonard Snart, who is laying low (not in Central City) is mistaken for Scofield. Once their identities are straightened out, Len, Mick and Lisa and the Flash team decide they are going to help the brothers (and Sucre, Sara Tancredi, and LJ) find out why the Company wants them, and the Rogues call in a few favors.

Michael and Linc walked in with their gear later that day when Lisa said the appointed meet up to get ready was. Lisa had changed clothes into something with some similarity to a trucker uniform, not much on closer inspection, but enough to pass first glance. Lisa gave them a once over, even going so far as to tip Michael’s face from one side to the other. Len came in to observe from his vantage point against the door.

Then Lisa sighed and turned to raise an eyebrow at Len, as did Michael and Linc. They also raised their eyebrows, but in a different way than Lisa. Len no longer looked like Michael, or at least that wasn’t the first thing anyone would notice about him. Goggles across his eyes, a thin blue jacket buttoned up to his throat and skinny utility pants that didn’t leave much to the imagination were not something Michael could ever see himself wearing, and the attire showed off both his posture and level of comfort in his own skin. Altogether, it gave off the impression of watching a tiger move – a very dangerous, very calculating, very, well, cold tiger. Michael couldn’t help but smile at how much the man supervillain nickname suited him.

“Sis,” he said, his drawl was thicker than usual too, “I’ll need to borrow your bike. Mine’s unfortunately not available right now.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get it impounded like you did yours.”

Len grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lisa shrugged. “That’s what you say.” She gestured at Linc and Michael. “So what do you think?”

Len studied them, inclining his head. Linc felt a moment of déjà vu that he was being looked over by their mother again before Christmas dinner right before she did the tsk tsk noise of disappointment. The thought made the hair on his arm stand up. It was only for a second though, before Len shrugged. “They can’t get out together, that’s for sure. Here, let’s get spare trucker uniforms. Brown, I think. That should help a little.”

“Brown.” Lisa nodded. “Shorts?”

“No shorts,” Michael said. “Will it work to disguise us?”

“No one ever looks at delivery people’s faces. I should know. It’s how we pull half our jobs. I even delivered something to the CCPD after a job, to find out what they knew. Me and Mick’s pictures spread across their desks and they signed for the packages and everything.”

“I feel that I should probably note that down somewhere for Barry to pass on to the CCPD,” Cisco shouted from his computer.

“Mmm. But not till after we’ve cleared their names, right, Cisco?” Len said. “That’d hardly be good for their cover.”

Cisco met his eyes. “Let’s just agree to work together until their names are cleared, yeah?”

Len turned back to Linc and Michael then took out his phone. “Mick, bring over the UPS uniforms. The ones with pants.” He paused and then smirked at whatever Mick was saying in response. “Yeah. And the 4 C’s shirts.” He hung up and said, “He should be here shortly.”

Michael asked, “Why brown?”

Len inclined his head and moved the goggles up onto his forehead. “Because if it was an Illinois state penitentiary, they probably had you wearing blue. Brown brings out different undertones than blue does, which acts like make up to disguise identities.”

Michael nodded, taking in the new information.

Linc frowned. “So you’re gonna be following us? That a good idea? You’re wearing blue.”

Michael responded for Len. “I don’t think anyone will mistake him for me wearing that.”

Linc narrowed his eyes. “Guess not. But do you think there’s gonna be someone following?”

Len nodded. “I’m certain of it.”

Linc turned to Michael. “Same people who framed me and kept chasing away witnesses.”

Len added, “And Kellerman and Mahone, though they’ll be more open about it.”

Cisco nodded. “I’m setting up a way that we can potentially track them and know what they’re doing, but we might have to slip something on to them to.”

Len gestured out with his hand. “If you give it to me, I’ll slip it onto whichever of them is trailing them.”

Cisco tipped his head. “Wouldn’t that blow your cover?”

“How sweet, Cisco. I didn’t know you cared.”

“Yeah. You know I don’t, Cold,” Cisco responded.

Len smirked. “I’ll deal with my cover.”

Lisa turned to survey her brother, frowning at him and turning back to Cisco. “Cisco, how far do those communicators works?”

Cisco nodded. “Actually, I’ve tweaked them so they’ll work across distances. If you want, I have an emergency one for each of you, just in case you get into trouble. These babies are tuned into a B Network, and it’s one way, so you won’t get radio from Flash operations, but we’ll still know if you get into any trouble. Bear can be there asap and hopefully get you away from them.” He walked around the desk to hand them out. They put them in. “Test 1 2. Test test,” he said into one of them, his voice coming out of the speakers on his computer.

Cisco had them each check voice as well. Each of them worked.

Mick walked in wearing his goggles and fire gear. Cisco walked over to him, glared at him, grabbed his head and deposited a communicator into it. “What’s this, kid?”

Len informed him. “It’s a communicator. But Mick, I’d like you to stay here.”

Mick frowned. “That an order, Snart?”

Len gazed at him. “Do I have to make it one?”

Mick glanced at Linc. “No. I don’t want to be on death row. You want me to do anything?”

Len smirked. “Be in Central. Just in case anything should go wrong.”

Mick glanced at Linc and Michael then back at Len. “What if they shoot you?”

Len tapped the communicator. “You’ll know and can get my exact location out of Cisco here.”

“Huh,” Mick said and put his in. “You trust him with your location. Is this something we need to talk about?”

“Only on this job. Cisco, I’ll lose this first chance I get so you can’t track me.”

“Cold gun, Captain Cold.”

“What if I ain’t using the cold gun?” Len turned to survey Cisco.

Cisco shrugged. “I’ll still find a way. You know I will.” Len grinned back at him.

Michael approached the computer. “You have a system that can track down his cold gun?”

Cisco pointed in Michael’s direction. “Hands off. You only get to see it if you stay on as a member of the team.”

“Does that include Mick if he helps the Flash track down metas?” Len smirked at Cisco.

Cisco checked Mick’s expression. “You agree to play nice with the cops? Somehow it doesn’t sound like you, Heatwave.”

“Don’t know. You could see how mad it makes the cops,” Len suggested.

Mick laughed. “Fine. But only as your point person. Tattoo, Prez, here’s your UPS uniforms.” Cisco hung his head trying not to laugh at Michael’s expression at the nicknames.

Len inclined his head and took them, handing one to Linc and one to Michael. “These can go on over your undershirts, but I’d recommend changing into them.”

They went, and when they came back, they were wearing them. Mick studied Linc. “You typically wear things unbuttoned to mid-chest?”

“Yeah, I like it better, but not in prison, I didn’t.”

Mick nodded. “Good. Though give it an extra button so it hangs right on you.” Linc did.

Len was studying Michael. “How do I look?” Michael responded to Len’s intent stare.

“Lisa?” Len asked.

Lisa looked at him as well. “It’ll do. Although, Michael, you do need to calm down and act normal. With the way I imagine you and your brother have been acting, you’re probably getting every single cop to Fox River double checking you to see if they’ve seen your faces before.”

Michael blinked.

“Even if you don’t though, I’m planning on having you change back halfway there when I change license plates, and then changed back into these uniforms when we’re nearly there.”

“The old license plate trick?” Len said.

“Complete with two other license plates.”

Len inclined his head, a gesture that they both knew meant he should have known she had transportation under control and was butting out. “Good.”

“Let’s set out then. Lenny, I’ll take you as far as my apartment. Keys are where they always are.”

Len pursed his lips. “Fifteen minute head start should do it?”

Lisa inclined her head, mirroring Len’s earlier gesture. Linc nodded. “That’s how close they were following when Dad tried to bust me out.”

“Fifteen it is then.”

“Alright, then we’ll be out of your hair, Cisco,” Linc said.

Cisco shook his head. “Ear piece, remember? You need anything, just tap your ear and speak into it. I’ve gotten the calibration up so it can even pick up a whisper, and it can pick up your location.”

Michael blinked and nodded. “Thank you for your help, with everything.” He indicated a cooler.

“Yeah, good luck with everything.” Cisco shook his head at him.

“Snarts, keep me updated as to what’s going on,” Mick said.

“Will do, Mick,” Len inclined his head. “Burners.”

Outside, the four of them climbed into Lisa’s truck and drove away.

Mick walked back in with Cisco. “Got anywhere I can test my gun?” Mick asked Cisco as soon as they were inside.

Cisco turned to side-eye him. “Why does it need testing?”

“Because I want to. Any other stupid questions, kid?”

Cisco gazed at him. “There’s a section of the Pipeline that we use to test Barry’s speed. I’ll show you. Don’t make me regret it, Heatwave. If I hear you’ve kidnapped anyone, I can put sleeping gas into the pipeline and you’ll wake up in a seven by seven cell. And if kidnap Caitlin or me again, you don’t want to know what’ll happen.

Mick laughed. “I don’t promise nothing. However, I’m willing to say truce until this job is done. You’re good at threats, kid.”

When Cisco got back from showing Mick to the Pipeline testing ground, Caitlin was back in the room. “Cisco, I drew a vial of each of their blood. It’s currently in the freezer. I was thinking just in case there is a meta who was causing the similarities.”

Cisco turned to her. “You know what I think? Snart and Scofield are likely related.” He pulled a lollypop out of his desk and offered one to Caitlin, who shook her head.

“I don’t see how they could be.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Snart’s dad?” Cisco said.

Caitlin winced. “Do you think either of them would like to know that, given what Detective West told us about Snart’s father?”

Cisco shook his head in agreement.

“I also cleaned an injury Lincoln sustained in trying to rescue his son.”

Cisco frowned. “He didn’t say he was injured.”

Caitlin shook her head. “It’s hard getting any of them to admit they need medical care. Snart tried to get up and leave less than an hour after he’d started drowning.”

Cisco rolled his eyes then moved closer to her to whisper. “Heatwave’s still here, by the way. He’s agreed to be their point person.”

Caitlin tensed and frowned. “As long as he’s agreed not to kidnap anybody while he’s here.”

“He has.” Cisco nodded. “Just wanted you to know. If you aren’t okay with it, I’ll tell him to go find somewhere else to be point.”

“Thank you. Though I think with everything we went through in the past year, his kidnapping both of us is not the thing that’s going to wake me up at night.” Caitlin wrinkled her nose.

Cisco sighed. “I know, right? I try not to think about Dr. Wells.”

Caitlin nodded. “Out of curiosity, what is our resident arsonist doing now?”

“Testing his heat gun in the pipeline. I have him on visuals. Which by the way, Scofield was able to recommend new places to put them where they’d be all but invisible and still able to capture everything.”

Caitlin shook her head. “He’s interesting, isn’t he?”

“Interesting is one word for him,” Cisco agreed.

Caitlin spun around at the note in his voice. “Do you think he’s lying about his brother not having done it?”

Cisco shook his head. “I think he believes it and I think Burrows definitely believes it.” A grin broke out on Cisco’s face. “Heatwave gave them nicknames, and they’re actually pretty good.”

Caitlin sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

Cisco nodded. “Tattoo for Scofield. Prez for Burrows.”

Caitlin gaped. “He didn’t!”

“Burrows apparently likes it.”

Caitlin shook her head, glanced at Cisco, and began chuckling. “I think I will take you up on that lollypop.”

The three of them had swung by a bodega to grab snacks before the ride. Lisa insisted on doing it at a given place, and insisted they respond to her as if they were Len and Mick. They went in, got a nod from the kid behind the register, selected their snacks, and paid for them. The kid all but hummed with glee.

“What your problem?” Linc asked.

Kid held up his hands, flashing Lisa and Len a terrified look. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean nothing by it. It’s just business goes up when you pull a job and I just want to say good luck,” the kid stammered out.

“Thanks, kid,” said Linc.

“Come on, Mick,” Lisa said. “Don’t wanna miss Lenny’s timeframe.”

Linc stepped back. “See you around, kid.”

Michael decided not to open his mouth and just inclined his head with a smirk, as he had seen Len do.

Once they got outside, Lisa said, “Why are you trying to learn my brother’s mannerisms, out of curiosity?”

“It could be useful,” Michael answered.

“Well, I guess you’re getting better at them. Slowly.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Point taken,” Michael conceded.

“You aren’t to do them without letting me or my brother know,” Lisa said. “If we find out you’ve been mimicking him without our permission in any way he might not want you to, he will find you.”

“Got it.” Michael nodded.

“Okay. If everyone has their snacks, let’s go get on the road.”

They got into the truck, Michael sitting next to her, Linc behind Michael along an area that didn’t quite qualify as a seat but was large enough to put someone if they held their legs up. Linc put his legs on the seat next to him and Lisa climbed in the driver’s seat. “We good to go?” she said and pulled out of the spot and onto the highway.

Two hours and a Meatloaf album later, Lisa pulled into a truck stop just off I-29. “Alright, boys. Get out and stretch your legs. Lenny,” she nodded at Michael, “You come with me.”

Michael nodded, sliding out of the car of the truck. They walked into the rest stop.

Michael saw the flyer with their pictures on it and started to tense up. “Lisa, they’ve got pictures.”

Lisa grabbed his upper arm and dug her nails in. “Don’t you dare get nervous, Lenny. There’s no need to and it’ll just attract attention. Now go get me a coffee. If anyone asks if they know you, you just drawl ‘no, ma’am, just a trucker on the road with my sister.’ Understood?”

He nodded, feeling her finger dig deeper. She let go and walked up to the counter. “Hi there. How are you today?” he heard her say in a deep drawl. “Was wondering if we might use your bathroom? We been on the road a while, my brother and me. Going up to North Dakota to drop off a delivery. And gosh, I can’t wait to get there so I can rest my feet and shower.”

Michael went to go find the coffee machine and get Lisa a coffee.

“You a trucker?”

“Yes, sir. Originally from Nashville, but we’re going to be staying with a friend up there, picking up our next delivery and driving it back.”

“You and your brother both truckers?”

“Yes, sir. Our daddy’s got himself arrested, and Lenny, he been raising me ever.”

“Well, good luck with the rest of the drive. Here’s the keys to the rest room.”

“Thank you kindly,” Lisa said, taking the keys.

She walked them over to Michael. “You got my coffee?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Okay. Here’re the keys. Go do your business. Then get two more coffees however you typically like them. I’ll be outside filling up the truck.”

He nodded at her, went into the bathroom. Outside he could hear her saying, “Gave my brother the keys. Just the coffee and gas for now. Though he may want some other stuff.” There was the sound of a register then of a door opening and closing. He came back out and prepared a cup of coffee for Linc and one for him and came up to the register to pay.

“You’re that nice sweetheart’s brother?” the older man behind the register said.

Michael tipped his head and took a deep breath. “Yes. She’s my younger sister.”

The cashier leaned over to him so that he was all but staring down Michael’s face. The man glared. Michael felt his heart stop, certain he had been identified. The cashier, however, said to him in hushed tones, “What kinda life is it to take your kid sister out on the road with you?”

“She wanted to, and it’s never been my place to stand in her way. Besides, she drives better than me.”

The man kept studying him then pulled back, a frown on his face saying what he thought of that. “Well, you take care of her, you hear?”

“Yes, sir. I always have,” Michael tipped his head again, thinking about how Linc had always kept an eye on him while he was growing up and that was before the money which had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

“She already bought coffee,” the cashier commented when he reached into his pocket for money.

Michael stopped with his hand on his pocket, mind working out how to make it seem like he did not know. “Did she? Shoot. Yes, I must have forgotten. Well, I already poured it. I’ll buy it anyway.”

The cashier laughed. “Eh, just take it. On the house, young man.”

“Thank you, sir,” Michael took both cups of coffee and went back to the truck.

Lisa was standing there with Linc, who was holding the gas. She nodded at Linc and said, “Back in the cab with you, Mick. Still back seat.” She nodded at Michael. “Lenny, you got the gas.”

Linc climbed into the cab. Michael grabbed the gas lever and filled it up the rest of the way. Lisa sipped her coffee, leaned against the door of the cab. “Alright. Into the truck with you.”

Michael nodded and climbed back into the truck. Lisa went to go pay.

“What is this?” Linc said.

Michael said, “When she gets back we’ll ask, but I think it’s working. The man in there didn’t recognize me at all.”

Linc nodded. “You sure?”

Michael nodded.

“Huh,” Linc replied.

Lisa came back out and climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled onto the I-29 again. There were fewer cars on the road, one or two a ways back and a couple motorcycles. “What was the meaning of that back there?” Linc asked.

“It convinced that cashier back there that me and my brother are truckers heading all the way up to North Dakota on I-29 where we will stay with a friend and pick up another delivery and drive it to where it needs to go, which is not Utah. However, keep an eye out for signs saying I-80, which goes all the way to Utah.”

Michael nodded. “So misdirection then?”

Lisa inclined her head. “Also, any mention of siblings will call up trucker siblings, not the two of you. So he won’t report us.”

Linc laughed. “How many times have you had to do this?”

Lisa smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Hey I was involved with criminal stuff before this whole mess with the President’s brother started.”

Lisa gave him a pitying look. “You weren’t a very good criminal then.”

Michael tipped his head.

Linc gestured at him. “And now you’re turning my brother into a criminal.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Do you want to get to Utah and then to wherever you’re going or not?”

Michael pointed. “I-80.”

Lisa looked up. “Ahh, okay, off to the right then.”

She took the exit then reached over to a bag she had. “Now, I have a spare change of clothes. I would like both of you to change into them. When we get off next stop, you will be my brother,” she gestured at Linc, “And you will be his friend from college,” she gestured at Michael. “You attended community college in the state of Missouri. I am attending the same college now.”

Linc changed first into a zip-front red over-shirt and jeans. Then he and Michael changed places and Michael changed into a black turtleneck, which among other things made him look a look more like Len. “You look like Snart,” Linc commented.

Michael turned to Lisa, who shrugged. “Well, where do you think I got those clothes?”

Linc looked down at the over-shirt, a red job with four C’s on it. “Mick wears college shirts?”

Lisa shook her head. “No, we got him that for a job.”

Linc nodded and sat back. Lisa pulled off to the right first truck stop she saw. She took out a small bag and backed into a spot facing the woods. “Why are we stopping again?”

“License plate trick. Watch,” Lisa answered, pulled off her trucker uniform and got out of the truck. A couple minutes later she got back into the driver’s seat and handed Michael the bag. “Our old license plate. Store it somewhere out of sight.” Michael nodded and put it under the seat.

Once he had, she pulled back onto the highway. “Now there’s twelve hours on this road, so let me know if either of you have to use the bathroom or anything. Otherwise, we are driving through. You’re welcome to try to get some sleep.”

Linc had to admire her ability to drive straight through, provided someone kept her fueled with coffee. He looked at the cars and trucks following them, wondering which of them was Company and when they would eventually catch them in this cat and mouse game with two mice, an uncertain number of cats, and rats at every turn. He trusted Michael, and Lisa was doing her best, but it was only a matter of time until somebody slipped up, or didn’t believe them, then they were screwed. Plus, Michael should not have even been involved in this in the first place. He had done what he had done to keep Michael out of this life, put him through school, kept his record clean so he could get a job in a top architecture firm or whatever it was Michael did, and then he got himself arrested to get Linc out of trouble. Out of the corner of his eye just then in the rearview mirror when they came to the top of a rolling hill and could see miles back along the highway, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of a lone motorcycle. He found that helped a lot.

Towards 2am, Linc stopped at a rest stop out somewhere in Wyoming and gave Linc, back on duty after he had slept, a smile. “Can you drive a little?”

“Yeah, not a problem,” he said.

“Great.” She slipped into the passenger seat and he slid into the driver’s seat. “Wake me when we get to Evanston.”

Michael woke up shortly after that and kept Linc company until then. They pulled into a rest stop just outside Evanston just after dawn. All three climbed out bleary eyed and Lisa went in to get coffee with Linc. “I need to use the rest room,” she commented once they got halfway across the store, nodding at the register. His eyes fell across the Fox River Eight poster stapled to the desk.

She walked closer to the register, turning to him as soon as they were in front of it and holding out an accusatory pointer finger. “You get coffee. And if you get the same shit as last time, I will kick your ass from here to Nana’s and she’ll kick it back. You know she will. You know how I like it. You’d better at least: you haven’t been out of the house that long. Just remember: no surprises, no sweet shit. And fix your roomie’s yourself. I don’t know how he likes it.” She turned back to the cashier who was chuckling at Linc’s dismay, but otherwise didn’t look up from whatever he was so fascinated with. “My brother here will get three coffees. And he’ll pay for it and the truck at pump five, which his roommate’s out filling up. If he tries to bring up sweet shit in mine, toss it at him.”

The cashier handed over the keys without looking up from the tv. “Here’s keys, first door on your left.”

She walked into the back.

“Where’s the coffee?” Linc asked.

The cashier nodded at a machine.

“You don’t got any sweet shit, do you? I try to give her mocha one time…”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

Linc prepped the coffees and walked up to the register with them and a couple breakfast bars. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said the cashier, still not looking up from his tv.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Eh. You the truck at pump five?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait till your friend is done. I’ll let you know when.” The cashier tapped his tv. Linc stared at him, but the man didn’t look up from whatever program he was watching, so Linc went to browse junk food, allowing him to put an aisle between him and the cashier and poster. The cashier continued, “You hear about the escaped prisoners?”

Linc froze. “Yeah, what about them?”

The cashier shrugged. “They say there’s a bounty on their heads. $100k each and $300k for Burrows.”

“Really? They got any idea where they are?”

The cashier looked up from the tv and grinned at Linc. “Nope.” Linc froze, but there was no recognition on the guy’s face.

Linc shrugged at the cashier, who still had the grin on his face. “Hopefully they find them soon. Although that’s unfortunate for anybody who looks like them.”

The cashier nodded. “Yeah. Tell your friend out there to be careful. You be careful too.”

Linc walked up to the cashier. “You think I’m him?” He tapped the mug shots that were hanging up alongside the register.

The cashier shrugged. “Hey, I’m an ex-offender myself. I’m sure as hell not reporting anybody. Don’t want to go through that again. And I can tell you are too.” Linc started to tense up to run. “But you don’t seem the type to do political assassinations. So nope, don’t think you’re him.”

“Thanks, man.”

The man tapped the screen. “Your friend’s done filling her up.”

“Yeah? How much I owe you?”

“Fifty for the gas. Plus the coffees, fifty three.”

Linc handed over sixty.

The man handed back seven. “Keep safe, you hear?”

Linc nodded. “Will do.”

When they were back in the truck, Lisa driving, Michael sitting passenger seat, she shook her head. “Guy would have pegged you in a second.”

“How do you know?”

“The way he was staring at Michael on the cameras.”

“But you got him not to?” Michael asked.

“That was all Linc. The way you responded to me telling you I’d kick your ass wasn’t in the realm of someone he could see murdering the President’s brother.” Linc and Michael nodded.

“Thanks,” Linc said.

“You learn these things when travelling around with Lenny and Mick.”

A few minutes later, she turned off into another truck stop without a rest stop, and backed in again. “Okay. Change back into the UPS uniforms. Then, Michael, I want you to go change the license plate.”

They did, and she pulled back onto the road, and entered Utah. They passed through Salt Lake City. Then Lisa told Linc to switch places with her. She got into regular clothes with a four C’s t-shirt and had Michael get into a school team shirt. She told Linc to stay in the trucker uniform.

And into Tooele, Utah the truck drove.

#my fic #prison break #the flash #the flash/prison break crossover #snart and scofield to the company came #leonard snart #mick rory #michael scofield #lincoln burrows #lisa snart #cisco ramon #cailtin snow

1 note · View note