#leiyun

[wrathdraco]

No dark energy here, it’s pure Electric we’re looking at. Wanted to show off Leiyun’s energy manifestation through a colored sketch that I skipped the cleanup step out of sheer laziness.

[thebiscuiteternal]

Can we have some more on what Nie Dad and Huaisang's relationship was like? Or what happened with Nie Dad and Mingjue's mom?

So, like, when I did the first Reverse Nies timeline, the relationship I pretty much had in my head was Stoick and Hiccup, you know the whole "No more of... this."/"You just gestured to all of me." only with the added angst of Huaisang's mama having died in childbirth.

Nie Haoran... he loves his son. He does. But at the same time, he finds himself struggling with that, wondering if maybe he's just fooling himself, because sometimes he can't help looking at Huaisang and thinking "Leiyun died for that?"

So he doesn't step in to defend Huaisang during a lot of times he should, and he can't stop expressing his disappointment in Huaisang's general everything even though he knows he's not being fair or a good parent and Huaisang doesn't deserve this.

Finding a mutual hobby in falconry and the care of the birds helped considerably, because it more or less forced Haoran to actually see that Huaisang did have things he was very, very good at, and would even be beneficial to a sect leader!

But Huaisang was never going to properly bond a saber or be capable in a battle, and Haoran just couldn't accept the affront to their ancestors that presented.

He loved Leiyun. He was trying to love Huaisang.

He went looking for a more fitting heir anyway.

Enter Linsong! Unlike Leiyun, she was a tall sturdy woman who also loved training falcons and hunting in general and was very good at it. She was practically already a Nie, except she'd been born to Lanling gentry. After never being able to secure a husband there, she'd taken to living on the road and doing as she pleased.

It was almost love at first sight for both of them, but Linsong had grown too accustomed to the wanderer lifestyle to ever settle down for very long. So when she got pregnant, they both agreed that, boy or girl, their child would go live with Haoran in the Unclean Realms, with all the proper papers to show they were a fully legitimized heir.

He never told Huaisang.

His last lucid thought as he lay in the infirmary, before the rage took him over for good, was that he should have told Huaisang.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

With A Flap Of Wings, Part One

(okay. here we go.)

Warnings for the overall story: Implications/mentions of suicide, miscarriage.

Tags: Nie-family centric, alternate timeline, time travel fix-it, ghosts, suicide, everybody lives (I know how weird it sounds having both, you gotta trust me here), no-war timeline

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

Nie Huaisang sits and stares at the closed stone doors of the tomb that contains the bodies of nearly all of his family, or at least their sabers.

All except for his brother, who remains trapped in that heavens-damned coffin.

The pile of aged papers in his lap rustle in the chilly breeze, but he barely pays attention, even though the pages are the answer to one of the many questions that had been plaguing him since the first time the ritual to purify his brother’s soul had failed. 

Since the first time the time-jumping ritual had failed.

He can't remember how many times he's cast it, using his own blood to dive into the past, only to inevitably be flung back here no matter how deep he went or which events he changed.

But now he understands. 

All of the monsters and ugly twists of fate that had targeted his family... they had only been symptoms of the disease. 

He is the cause. 

He, the ill-omened child who killed his own mother with his first breath, is the one who brought calamity on all who ever knew him, death and misfortune dogging his steps before he could even walk.

This, all of this, is because of him.

But he can still fix it. 

Maybe none of the other attempts had worked, but that was because he hadn't known where to weed out the rot threatening the garden. 

Now, he does. 

Closing his eyes and bracing himself, he draws the knife from his belt for what he desperately hopes will be the last time.

–- 

Nie Leiyun is six months into her pregnancy –one month away from what would have been her death from hemorrhaging during an arduous childbirth– when she staggers and has to catch herself on a table, suddenly overcome by a horrible throbbing pain in her guts. 

But it's when the pain stops, everything inside her going unnaturally still, that she actually starts to panic and sinks down to sit on the floor, trying to call out and unable to make her voice work. 

A maid rushing to help her back to her feet is the first to see the blood starting to stain her robes and the stone beneath her, and she’s the one who screams for the healers when Nie Leiyun can’t. 

Despite all their efforts, the healers are only able to save one life. 

Once, in a timeline that has just been erased, it was the child. 

This time, it's the mother.

---

The grief that falls over the sect is heavy. 

No one seems to be more crushed by it than Nie Mingjue. 

All of six years old, he had been adamant that he didn't want a sibling and had complained to anyone who would listen. Babies were stinky and dumb and boring and either cried all the time or made messes everywhere. Gross.

And now the baby is dead, dead and gone, and no amount of hugs or kind words can convince the boy that he hadn't somehow wished his little brother away. 

Nie Haoran and Nie Linsong are gentle with their wife and son's grief -it had been Linsong's own struggles with having another child that had prompted the second wedding, after all- and it's Linsong who makes a fateful suggestion one night as the two of them are sitting by the fire one evening, Linsong spoiling her falcon with some extra preening assistance and Leiyun mending some clothing. 

"The only reason you put your search on hold was because the pregnancy was becoming too harsh on your health, wasn't it? Why not pick it back up again now once you've recovered a little?" 

---

Three and a half months later, Nie Leiyun hears rumors of a high-ranking courtesan in Yunping who has been making waves among the cultivation gentry. This by itself is nothing new, she has investigated over a dozen other women who ended up in the brothels like she originally had and have since risen to some level of fame, some even attracting the attention of sect leaders like she had. 

But none of those women had been outright carrying her long-abandoned surname of Meng. 

She does her best not to get her hopes up, but luck is on her side for a change, and three days after she first hears the whispers, Nie Leiyun -Meng Xiu- clutches her sister Meng Shi in a tearful embrace. 

She doesn't know how to feel about the tiny boy that her sister introduces her to. He is not yet two years old, so close to her Sang-er. 

They could have grown up cousins. 

Friends. 

But now- 

She wipes her eyes and puts aside her selfishness. Yao-er can still be a cousin and friend to Mingjue, and he and her sister both deserve far better than this place. 

She takes them home.

[haalysso]

Fierce amber eyes painstakingly seized control over the delicate tapestry of this particular life. Yewan's hands raked across the fabric, her fingers trembling as she watched the threads of another life begin to fray and shatter. Time was slipping through her fingers. If she did not act soon, if she did not find a way to gather more power, they would lose the one hope they had left. Each life, each thread, was being chipped away, unraveled piece by piece by the Emperor’s relentless hand.

"Yewan, use the mirror." A calm voice broke through the thick tension, a man standing behind her, his presence steady despite the chaos. "You can’t manage this with cloth alone. The mirror offers precision. Viewing, not manipulating." Next to him, a young lady wept softly, clutching his arm for comfort. He rubbed her back, gently wiping away her tears.

"It’s my fault," the young lady sobbed, her voice catching. "She never would have gone through this if I had been more careful."

The man, Fuguan, shook his head solemnly. "No. Even if not you, it would have been someone else. The Heavenly Emperor wanted me gone, no matter the cost."

Yewan turned to face him, her expression stern but laced with sympathy. "Fuguan, I know you’ve just returned from your own sufferings, but she won’t have the strength to endure as you did. Leiyun has been stripping her primeval spirit at the end of each life. If this continues, she won’t survive the next."

Fuguan’s eyes widened. His breath caught as he stood up sharply, the young lady rising with him, gripping his hand in fear. "What?" he exclaimed, voice thick with panic. "She’ll be nothing but a shell!"

Yewan shook her head. "No, not entirely. Wanhei was on the verge of awakening before her banishment. There’s still hope." Her hands glided over the mirror, pulling forth an image for Fuguan to see.

He leaned in, brows knitting together as a familiar figure appeared—a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Wanhei. But an ominous shadow loomed over her, interwoven with her image. Fuguan blew out a breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of realization. Slowly, a bitter laugh escaped his lips.

The young lady, Yezi, peered over his shoulder, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a sudden realization. "It’s your family’s protection spell!" she gasped, her voice bright with hope.

Yewan's hands moved deftly, tracing symbols in the air before pressing them into the surface of the mirror. Fuguan raised a brow, his question unspoken but clear in his gaze.

"In order for her to succeed this time," Yewan said, her voice low but firm, "I will have to push harder. Harsher. I’ve placed a region-wide spell to force her into action." Her fingers moved across the mirror, revealing not just Wanhei but the planet as a whole. As she pointed to various locations, her expression darkened. "The planet is dying. A side effect of the abyss being absorbed all those years ago."

Fuguan's frown deepened. He ran a hand over his forehead, the weight of his actions bearing down on him. "I didn’t realize… I didn’t know that would happen. How many… how many were affected?"

Yewan’s eyes softened, but her silence was deafening.

"Yewan!" Fuguan’s voice cracked, his fists clenched. "Tell me!"

"This will be the thousandth life." she whispered, her tone heavy with sorrow.

Fuguan staggered as if struck, the air rushing from his chest. He faltered, trying to catch his breath, but the weight of the truth was too much to bear. Yezi placed her hand on his back, her touch gentle, attempting to soothe him.

He raised a hand, shaking his head. "I’m alright, Yezi." His voice was strained. "It should have been my burden to bear, not hers." He turned to Yewan, his expression resigned but resolute. "I will leave you to your work. I’ll take Yezi to Xiayumian. When the time comes—when it happens—come to me."

Yewan watched as the pair faded into a puff of black smoke, their departure quiet but final. Alone in the cave, she sighed, her hands trembling for the briefest of moments. She stared at the mirror before releasing the magic that bound it, carefully storing it away.

The cave fell silent once more as Yewan cast a final glance around. Without another word, she too disappeared, leaving behind only the weight of the choices made and the consequences yet to unfold. --------------------------------------------------------------- The wearer’s robe billowed in the wind as slender hands curled around the banister, separating the pavilion from the vast expanse below. The sky stretched out in a mesmerizing display, where dawn broke through a bed of clouds, the blazing sun blooming from below the horizon. Above, cosmic dust mirrored the cloud formations, swirling like soft fleece in the sky. Stars—some distant, some closer—sparkled in the stillness, untouched by the new day. Wisps of black hair danced around the face of the figure on the terrace. The person, feminine and composed, took one last glance before turning away from the view, stepping into the cool shadows of the pavilion.

With a flick of her wrist, Yewan summoned a hologram over the pedestal at the center of the gathering. It shimmered to life, revealing profiles of half a dozen humans, each surrounded by a multitude of others. Her voice, authoritative yet enticing, echoed softly in the pavilion’s stillness.

"Soon, our warriors will arrive," Yewan declared, her amber eyes gleaming with the weight of what was to come.

A man with long gray hair, his robe trimmed in gold, stepped forward from the group. His expression was both curious and grave. "Yewan, you must have news on the Tarnished one. We need to see her progress."

Yewan's finger glided over the hologram, and the images shifted, fading away to reveal a single figure—a human female, drenched in blood. A dark aura clung to her like a shadow, and superimposed over her form was the ghostly silhouette of another woman. With a quick motion, Yewan separated the two images, pulling the spectral form forward.

The image of the ghost materialized—another woman, strikingly similar to the human, but ethereal in her presence. She wore a maroon robe, its sleeves and chest adorned with black and white accents. Her amber eyes blazed, long white hair flowing freely around her as if caught in an unseen wind.

"Wanhei, in all her glory," murmured a voice from the side, laced with regret. Riluo, another figure from the gathering, reached out to the image of Wanhei, his fingers hovering near the projection. His voice was heavy with lament as he turned to the human’s image. "And now this is Wanhei reborn? A shame, really. All that beauty, all that power—transmuted so imperfectly. Perhaps, in her next tribulation, she will inherit it all again."

Yewan’s face hardened. "Enough, Riluo. She will never be the Wanhei you once knew." Her words cut through the air like a blade. "Even if her face remains the same, I doubt she would recognize any of us." She waved her hand, and the images of the other chosen warriors appeared. "These warriors have nearly completed their trials," she pointed to the blood-soaked image of Wanhei’s successor, her expression unreadable. "This one still has the most difficult path ahead. They will all meet again—and they will fight once more."

Riluo’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing. "You must know the family she will be reborn into."

Yewan’s amber gaze slowly shifted to meet his, her scrutiny sharp and unyielding. "That is none of your concern," she said coldly. "She will follow her alignment."

Riluo let out a sharp breath. "She was Divine! And now she’s to be reborn as a demon?"

Yewan stepped around the pedestal, her hands clasped behind her back. The tension in her voice was palpable. "Do I need to remind you how she fell? How did her soul become tarnished?" She didn’t wait for an answer, her voice rising with each word. "By absorbing the darkness! She was meant to create, not destroy. She took power from the Abyss itself, and that was her undoing!"

Riluo shrank back as Yewan's fury lashed out, but she pressed on, unrelenting.

"Now, if she wishes to reclaim her immortality, she must refine the energy of the Cauldron. But her alignment will make that almost impossible." Yewan’s voice was sharp with bitterness. "Every ounce of negative energy she has accumulated through all her lives will make the Cauldron overflow. She’s on the brink of destruction."

Another figure approached—calm, steady—and placed a gentle hand on Yewan’s shoulder. She sighed, her fury subsiding as she stepped away from Riluo, leaving him to brood over his losses.

Her hands, trembling slightly, rested on either side of the pedestal. Her gaze remained fixed on the image of Wanhei’s successor, the one who bore the weight of a fallen legacy.

"This woman, Tigran," Yewan murmured, her voice low but filled with certainty, "must face the final phase." --------------------------------------------------------------- Tigran glanced back at the man, seated on the ground, his wide eyes locked onto hers. She gestured toward the distant beacon, her hand steady, before turning away. The sound of his footsteps retreating over the dirt confirmed he understood her signal. As she moved closer to the light, the once-vivid sky darkened rapidly, a creeping shadow that brought a familiar dread. She remembered the storm, how quickly it had overtaken them the first time.

A bolt of lightning suddenly struck nearby, slamming into a tree frighteningly close to her niece. Tigran’s heart leapt into her throat as she whipped around, shouting into the chaos.

"Move! Move now!"

The air crackled with electricity, the storm intensifying. A stranger—one of the women in their group—grabbed Tigran's arm. "We have to go now, before we’re left behind!"

Tigran jerked her arm free, shaking off the woman's grip. Her breath grew shallow, her chest tightening as the strikes came closer, faster. The world felt like it was closing in around her, but she pressed forward, glancing over her shoulder at the towering beacon of light. It sliced through the dark sky, parting the storm clouds just enough for her to glimpse the clear blue above.

Ahead, her sister frantically pushed Monat, her niece, toward her husband. Tigran swallowed hard, her back now against the beacon. The others, those who shared her vision, had already gone through. The land they had seen—untouched by the chaos, a paradise that reminded them of Earth—had sparked a flicker of hope within their hearts all those years ago.

But that hope now felt like a distant dream as the storm raged around them.

Monat's small figure broke into a sprint, heading straight for Tigran. Lightning struck again, this time obliterating a tent near them. Monat froze for a split second, fear clouding her young face. Tigran, despite the terror gnawing at her, motioned urgently toward the beacon, her voice caught in her throat.

Run.

Monat’s legs obeyed, carrying her across the pier. When she reached her aunt, Tigran stepped aside, letting the teen pass through the beam of light. The aura surrounding it shimmered, momentarily quieting the storm.

But Tigran did not follow. As she moved to step into the light, a blinding flash filled the air—lightning struck her directly.

The last sound her family heard was her scream, sharp and gut-wrenching, as the beacon vanished, taking Monat with it. --------------------------------------------------------------- They say your life flashes before your eyes in the moments before death. Tigran had always thought it was a cliché, something people said to give comfort. But as the lightning consumed her, the world around her lit up—brighter than any dawn she had ever seen. Every memory, every choice, every moment she’d lived through played out in a brilliant cascade of light.

And then, silence. --------------------------------------------------------------- Atop the hill stood a collection of cabins, their wooden frames nestled amongst towering trees that overlooked a serene lake. The water shimmered, reflecting the fiery reds, golden yellows, and burnt oranges of the autumn foliage. The vibrant colors announced the change in seasons, as if nature itself was in celebration. At the base of the towering oaks, a patchwork of mushrooms thrived in the shadows, while berry bushes, heavy with fruit, scattered their seeds, promising future harvests.

In the open courtyard encircled by the cabins, children ran and played, their laughter mingling with the upbeat music from a nearby radio. Around a crackling campfire, the warmth of drinks, beer, and s'mores filled the air. The sky above was a canvas of endless stars, untouched by the artificial lights of the city. As the night deepened, the older kids wandered off into the woods, guitars in hand, ready to lose themselves in leisurely tunes and the haze of smoke. --------------------------------------------------------------- Blood dripped from her mouth, and despite the overwhelming pain, her body had the audacity to feel nauseous. Each breath felt like a struggle against her very core. --------------------------------------------------------------- Tigran's heart skipped a beat as her phone buzzed violently in her hand. She nearly dropped it when she saw the alert: Tornado Warning. Seek Shelter Immediately.

Her mind raced, scanning the horizon, searching for any sign of danger. She had been focused on the wrong side, looking towards the storm’s edge, oblivious to what lay in the north. Malic's voice broke through the pounding in her ears.

"Babe! The storm's coming from the north! We have to get inside!"

She whipped around, her eyes widening as she finally noticed the green-tinged sky. A siren wailed in the distance, cutting through the stillness, warning all the residents.

Tigran rushed up the stairs, calling out to her family. "Get to the laundry room, now!"

Cate, her mother, frantically attempted to gather belongings—her mind stuck in panic mode. Tigran grabbed her arm. "Mom, stop. Now is not the time!" Finn, her brother, gently took over, pulling Cate toward the shelter where Nathan, their father, waited at the top of the stairs, his hand outstretched.

Tigran hesitated, turning back to the kitchen to grab her bag. She was the last to enter the basement, closing the heavy doors behind her. Her breath was shallow as she descended the stairs, pulling the secondary doors shut, sealing them in. --------------------------------------------------------------- Her gaze dropped to her feet, and confusion swept over her. Her feet were disintegrating, crumbling into ash before her very eyes. Panic surged as she watched herself slowly vanish. ---------------------------------------------------------------

"What's this talk about Summons?" The man's voice was cold as he tightened his grip on the weapon, pressing its sharp point dangerously close to Edith’s chin.

"Please, please, please, don’t hurt me!" Edith’s voice trembled, her hands shaking as she pleaded. "I have nothing! Just the clothes on my back!"

Tigran’s fury bubbled over. Fury at the Raiders for their cruelty, fury at her sister for her naivety. The scene ignited something deep within her, a rage not unlike the one she had felt in high school, when a girl had been sobbing in the locker room, her clothes torn after a brutal assault. The memory resurfaced, the helplessness, the burning desire to protect.

Her fists ached as the pain in her knuckles throbbed, and her vision tunneled, narrowing in on the man’s weapon—too close to Edith, too much of a threat. She didn’t think. She moved.

In a split second, Tigran shifted to a crouch and sprang from the bushes, her body moving before her mind caught up. There were startled cries as she barreled into the man’s side, knocking him off balance.

"Do not ever touch my family!" she growled, her voice shaking with raw emotion. The man stumbled, reeling from the force of her attack, his weapon falling from his hand as he hit the ground. ---------------------------------------------------------------

As her body continued to fade into nothingness, a memory that wasn’t her own took over, blurring the line between past and present. ---------------------------------------------------------------

"Fuguan! Do not enter the abyss!"

A man cloaked in dark robes turned slowly toward the voice, his ritual momentarily halted. His eyes settled on the woman standing before him, her expression stricken with urgency. "Wanhei," he said, his voice steady but filled with tension, "you know I must. The emperor will not be swayed by words." His gaze shifted, confusion flickering across his features as he noticed her attire. "Daimo? Why are you wearing—"

Wanhei cut him off, her voice breaking with desperation. "Daimo is dead." She took a step closer, her tone pleading. "Please, Fuguan, stop. Your soul will be destroyed!" She stumbled over her words, panic rising in her chest. "Yezi was attacked by the royal guards. It’s all a setup!"

Fuguan’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he turned back to the ritual. His hands moved purposefully, continuing the dark incantation. Wanhei’s heart sank as she realized her words were not enough to sway him. For a brief moment, she hesitated, but then her resolve hardened. Shaking her head, she rushed forward, her hands already moving in a frantic blur, signing the spell to interrupt his ritual.

Her plan was clear: she would sacrifice herself in his place.

Just as the abyss began to hum with energy, Fuguan whirled around. His eyes widened in horror as he saw what Wanhei intended. "Sister, no!" he shouted, reaching out instinctively. His hand glowed with power as he tried to push her away, to stop what was already in motion.

But it was too late.

The abyss accepted her offering without mercy. Wanhei's body jerked violently as the dark energy surged into her, too much for a mortal soul to bear. Cracks began to form along her skin, glowing with an unnatural light. A soul-wrenching scream tore from her throat as her body was engulfed in a torrent of red flames, the color eerily matching the robes she wore.

Fuguan stood frozen, his outstretched hand trembling as he watched the flames consume her. The fiery glow reflected in his eyes as the realization of what had happened crashed down on him like a wave. His sister, in her desperate attempt to save him, had sacrificed herself to the abyss.

The ritual was broken, but at a terrible cost.

As the flames burned brighter, they faded as quickly as they had risen, leaving only silence in their wake. The air around Fuguan grew still, the oppressive energy of the abyss now quiet, as if sated by Wanhei's sacrifice.

Fuguan dropped to his knees, his breath ragged, his hands still reaching for what was no longer there. "Wanhei..." he whispered, voice hoarse with grief, the weight of her sacrifice settling over him like a crushing burden.

[sohologistics]

Epidemic prevention and control measures at Bingmao, Leiyun, Manmanman and Qingshuihe ports on Nongdao have been adjusted

[wishuponasakuracard]

A young Syaoran training to become the Chosen One, with his cousin Leiyun

Art by Wish-chan [x]

[tinaillustrations]

The New Trials of Cardcaptor Sakura, Syaoran and Friends by Wishluv another fanart of Leiyun and Tomoyo in the scene on Chapter 72: Almost Left Behind Part I where Tomoyo got hurt and Aki carried her to the infirmary . Leiyun's expression is not really his ,I just imagined what Tomoyo was thinking when she saw the metal tong that he got, btw I'm not sure if this is a tong used in infirmaries at school so excuse my inaccuracy. I added Sakura and Eriol's expression based on what happened in the fanfic.

Credit me if you want to re-post thanks!

[thedarkoutside]

The 2021 list

Everything in quotes “” have no artist details or no info could be found when going through the emails. these are probably part of an archive .zip / .rar  

If you identify these titles as yours, let me know.  If there are typos ( more than likely)  again, let me know. 

[  some names seem to have been removed by the far too efficient text file alphabetical sorting thingy.  ] "2021 07 28" "2021 May 19" "abandoned4" "brief theme for ending things" "buddhaone" "build 3" "delprado hotel" "dissolved metal salts that coat your lips with a bitter film" "Dorv 2" "dying" "Encounter TK1" "enddub.blk" "Evangelica Church Group Birmingham" "experiments 5" "first breath comma second breath" "Foghorns Rough" "Frequency Scanning" "Gurenda" "hello 2&3" "indulgent overtones" "intro" "jen edit" "lonely waits" "lotafun 21" "nextex it" "no, I think someone is recording us" "omniglot" "premix rough" "prince earl" "Ratchets 7" "render navina" "see the sun" "skipping new" "soundscape" "soundtrack" "TDO5" "Theme from Public Transport" "TMC-06" "track 01" "turbu" "unmastered" "wavestation" "zoom016" 1 of 100 1976 8 Track Dogma A Farewell to Hexes Accursed Volts Ada Stockwell & Lippy Kid Adi Carter Adjectivals Afrotull Aldo Rox AM Web Amongst the Pigeons Andrea Careddu Andrew Ramsey Andy Blip Andy McDade Another Dead Weirdo Antoni Maiovvi AOTCI Apalusa Apta Arvik Torrensen Assassin of Sound Audio Obscura Aula Deft University of Technology Autoflag Autumna Ave Grave Awful Collider baze.djunkiii Bazrah Ben Tye Bernard Grancher Betamax Warriors Bipolar Explorer Bit Cloudy Blaiddwyn Bless This Machine Blood Everywhere BMH Boodlam British Detail Calico Jack Capricornio Cevan Charlie & Lol1 Chelidon Frame CLAIR Claro Correcto Co-Pilot Course Correct Cowboy Flying Saucer Cuts D. McCann D. Taylor Daft Danny Carnage Darren Hannant Datassette David McNicol Desert Petunia dESUS DFF Sound System Ditchburn Band Distant Animals Dog in the Snow [dOOM] dESUS Drew Five Dundass Dusty Ohms Earthborn Visions Earthshine Eat the Sun Ed Spess Eduards Ozoliņš Egone El Ghou Electric Talk Electroaurora Elizabeth Joan Kelly Elli Shnoo Em Downing Eoin MacIonmhain Espetacara EV Everon Goen Exit Chamber Famished for Blonds Fantasy Sequence Finlay Shakespeare Flexagon Forces of Good Four Italian Pep Pills Fragile X From the Benthic Zone Garden of Surreal Dreams Gasmantell Gemma Cullingford Georgia Gone Caving Grant Basma Horsnell Grant Forrester Gusset Half Hazard Radio Heavy Cloud Hengist Pod Hi-Tech Criminal Hirsig Hole in the Machine Holmes & Atten Ash Holychao Hornbeam Human Concept Hymettus Woods Idiogram JD Twitch Jack Blake Jackaman James Graham James Oldrini James Sandford Jamie Cameron Jane Pitt Juxtagon Jeff Styroid Jim Jarmo Joe Ahmed Joe Muggs Joel Shea John Rushton Jonathan Higgins Junklight Junkyard of Silenced Poets K. Karl D'Silva Kate Arnold Kim Moore Kinver Pond Kitty Turner KKP 1489 Komputer L/F/D/M Lament_Config Lathave Park Lefthave Plank Leiyun Leptonandon Levi Fuller Liam Kendal Limited Ability Lomond Campbell Louzy Luke Hansbury Mabel Gwen vs Rusty Sheriff Malady of Knots Mark Healy Mark Wilkins Masios Matt Nix Matthew McCourt Matthew Thomason Meadow Pixie Mechanical Lobster Megalophobe Melony Klein Miriam Ingram Meridian Michael Begg Michael Denny Mike Smalle Mike Tupling Milk and Cheese Millz Davis Mitsubishi Cunliffe Mode 7 Project Modulator ESP Moray Newlands Mr Kong 95 Mr Kristoffa Museleon Mute Frequencies Myrrhman Nad Spiro Nat Lyon Naylee Negative Response Neve Nicolas Corniglion Nonalogue Old Man Oliver Lacon OOO EEE OOO Openchannel Outside Other Owen Sound P6 Palmer Eldritch Panamint Manse Passenger Pieon P. G. Warren pHactory Portobello Drone Choir Posthuman Pracownik Prequel Tapes Prince Video Production Unit Pye Corner Audio Rave Sir Robin Re:Search Remote-Control_Rectum Repeared Viewing Richard Sandling RJ Ellmer Robert Griffiths Roberta Fidora Robyn Gibson Rockets in the Trees Roland Oakes Ruaridh Law Sadie Maskery Saguenay Salford Electronics Salvatore Mercatante Samantha Fox Sansuro 77 Scanner Scott Smigiel Scumbag Radio Seapup Secret Nuclear Security Semispecific Ensemble Schestokken Shiranai Hito Sheer Zed Signal Signal Jammer Silas Andersen Simon Fisher Turner Simon Heartfield meets Megaheadphoneboy Sizike Skeleton Worm Slateford Mods featuring MC Dead Kennarty Slow Down Missy Snooks Solo1 Soundhead Spacelab Spiral Dial St James Infirmary Stephen Boyle Steve Emerson Stock Photography Strangest Pet on Earth Stuart Cook Subversive Recluse Swardh Tambay Teishi-1 Time Destroys All Things The Bookshop The Cairnsmore Conspiracy The Domestiques The Family Germ The Last Ambient Hero The Leaf Library The Nameless Book Thee Adversary Thelonius Martin Todd Snow Tom gunn Nash Toxic octopus UBO Unseen Hands Veryan Vitruvian Skies Von Heuser Walthamstow Home Keyboard Laboratory Warrior Bob Waves of Nightinglaes William Wild Wizards Tell Lies Writers Bloc Xelis De Toro Yol Yvette Haynes

[zines-in-chinese-cultures]

Feminist Expression, Self-healing and Community Building: Zine-making in a Feminist Community (14 Jan 10:45-12:15 GMT)

This session brings Chinese feminist and queer scholars and activists who practice zine-making in China, UK and Germany together to share their observations and expereinces about zines across and beyond Chinese feminist and queer communities. Ruoxi Liu will present her ethnographic observations in art groups in Guangzhou and discuss how self-publishing practices have empowered individuals and offered an alternative for everyday resistance. Leilei and Mandi will share their experiences and observations about roles and functions played by zine-making in a transnational Chinese feminist society. Pei and Acui will discuss how zine, as an informal medium help construct queer space, queer identities and queer communities based on their queer community activities in the Chinese context. This session will showcase how zines worked as ‘series battery’ that rally transnational feminists, queer and artists within and beyond their communities. It will present the potentials and power of zine-making in building up transnational and transcontextual connections.

______________________________________

Leiyun Ni & Mandi

(she/her, University of Warwick/VaChina)

In this presentation, Leilei and Mandi will share their expereinces in Zine-Making as both facilitators and participants in a transnational Chinese feminist group: VaChina. They will talk about the ways in which this feminist group used zines to express and explore Chinese feminism in their feminist lives. They will discuss how zines were used to facilitate their different activities, such as feminist study group and reading group. Zines as an art form with lower (or zero) entry level enables feminists without art background freely express their feelings, emotions and thoughts as both individually and collectively. As the political environment becoming increasingly severe, Chinese feminist often feel depressed, hopeless, and isolated. However, zine-making provides a unique channel for feminists to stick together to challenge “therapeutic governing” (Zhang, 2020). It allows participants to regain control over their own mind and body and achieve self-healing and mutual-healing effects, especially during the pandemic. It helps this feminist community keep alive, connected, creative and resilient.

Leilei (she/her) is a feminist and anti-racism activist based in the UK. Since 2018, she has been an active member in VaChina, a Chinese feminist group based in SOAS. She has participated and organised different forms of feminist activities (performance, zine-making, reading group, film-viewing) with her fellow Chinese feminist friends in the UK. She endeavours to create a safe and creative space for feminists from different background to explore and enrich Chinese feminism. Leilei is also a Ph.D student in history at Warwick.

Mandi (she/her) is a feminist activist and undergraduate student living in China. She is also a member of many feminist groups including VaChina. She has experience in joining and organizing different forms of feminist activities (podcast, healing workshop, online stand-up talk show) in an attempt to explore various alternatives to build up connections with transnational feminist communities.

Instagram: @VaChina2021

[mkdr1412]

It’s been a while since I’ve drawn some Hitsuhina fanart because currently I’m fangirling on Tomoyo Daidouji and Li Leiyun from New Trials by Wishluv if you want to see some of my drawing of them check out my Instagram page .

Hitsugaya’s Birthday is coming soon and because of that my feeling for these pair is coming back so I’ve decided to draw a Hitsuhina theme is Shades of Grey from my Shades of Grey series. It’s a series of anime/fanfiction fanart that I colored in different greys but you’ll also see some black and white color for some of my drawings that I’ll soon post.

Please don’t take off the signature and don’t re-post  if you want to ,credit me Thanks! 

Follow me on my :

Instagram

Deviant Art

[galatcias]

ancient magic, dragons and feudal japan? sounds like a recipe for political disaster. / hi, kelly! leiyunhq is a new semi-appless fantasy rp set in the world of leiyun, an island nation surrounded by a magical barrier and reminiscent of places like meiji era japan and wakanda — with added dragons and magic, and some bonus political intrigue. unfortunately, our tags aren't working yet, so if you could please give us a shoutout, i'd be very grateful!

shoutout  !

[wrathdraco]

Start and end pages of a sketchbook! You can really see the difference.

[thebiscuiteternal]

Biscuit! Sorry if I'm late to writing jam (it has been. A. Day. In lab today) and please feel free to disregard if I am, but for spooky writing jam:

Either one of the Nie Moms as ghosts?

A part of Nie Linsong's heart always prickled with guilt whenever she got the opportunity to look in on the boys.

It wasn't fair that Nie Leiyun had never been able to come on one of these visits; that her wife could only subsist on the stories and descriptions she brought back with her to the realm of the dead.

After all, she had gotten eight years with Mingjue and two years with Huaisang- Leiyun had never gotten to meet Huaisang at all before death had taken her.

The guilt made her greedy, taking in anything and everything she possibly could and committing it to memory as vividly as possible so that there would be more to give her wife.

But this time-

-this time-

-she desperately wished that she could see less and do more.

Their husband's body was, in her vision, wreathed in red flames that made sickening twisted shapes of corpses on the floor around him as he stood hunched over, an enraged, animalistic expression of rage on his face and the sturdy, calloused hands she'd always been fond of wrapped around around the throat of their younger son with crushing pressure.

Little Huaisang couldn't even scream with the force on his windpipe, and any moment, his equally fragile spine could-

-forcing herself to tear away from the horrible sight, she streaked from hall to hall, aiming for the bright spark that was their older son.

"Jue-er!" she screamed the moment she saw him, putting all the spiritual force she had in her body into her voice. "Your father's room! He's killing your brother!"

Nie Mingjue jerked, looking around in confusion. "Is someone-?"

"No time! Go! Save your brother!"

Fortunately, that was enough to get him moving, running towards Nie Haoran's room with his mother's spirit right on his heels.

She could only hope that they would be in time; that Mingjue's mad dash across the sect grounds would attract enough help.

That she wouldn't have to return to Leiyun with the news that their sons would be joining them along with their husband when this horrible night was over.

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

With A Flap of Wings, Part 2

Two years after she lost Huaisang, Nie Leiyun is pregnant again. This time, Nie Mingjue is so very careful not to complain, not even to his best friend Lan Xichen, nor to his cousins Zonghui and Xunyao. Everyone knows why, and all of the grownups do their best to be kind to their young master's feelings. 

He turns out to be worrying over nothing. 

Unlike her brother who never was, Nie Jinghe is as gentle a pregnancy as her mother could ever hope for and emerges into the world bright and healthy and strong. 

–No one is aware that due to the fact that Nie Linsong had canceled all of her prior plans because she was busy helping her wife deliver the baby girl, she did not die on the night hunt she would have been on otherwise.–

—

The years pass. 

Nie Mingjue and his cousins Nie Zonghui and the fully-legizimized Nie Xunyao are practically extensions of each other, working in near-perfect tandem as future sect leader and his right and left hands.

Meng Shi has been offered a proper courtship by one of Nie-zongzhu's far-distant cousins and, though unsure about accepting at first, is now happy with her first real love, her light heart and genuinely bright smile practically making her a new woman.

Nie Jinghe is a tiny hellion with the climbing speed of a monkey and an infectious laugh that cheers up everyone around her. 

Watching them all, Nie Leiyun is… content. 

Most of the time. 

When spring comes each year, she finds herself missing the child she never even properly got to hold because she'd been unconscious when his tiny body was taken away. She wonders what he would have looked like, what his laugh would have sounded like, what sort of things he would have enjoyed. 

But, every year, she eventually pushes those thoughts aside to focus on her husband and wife, on her sister, on the children under her care now.

Nothing good comes from wondering 'what if?' for too long. 

—

Nie Leiyun looks up from her embroidery when her husband sinks into his favorite chair with a look of consternation on his face. "Something wrong?" 

"I hope not. I can't make heads or tails of this letter from Ruohan. He says-" 

A knock on the doorframe makes them both look up to find Nie Linsong and one of the men who normally guards the tombs up on Xinglu Ridge. 

"Apologies for the interruption, Zongzhu," the guard says with a salute. "But a situation has come up at the tombs. A rather persistent ghost... of sorts." 

"Of sorts?" 

"Well... he's not acting like any ghost we’ve dealt with before. He hasn't made any moves to attack us or scare us off, but he hasn’t made any attempt to communicate either. Either way, he won't budge from in front of the doors, and we've tried the strongest capture and banishment techniques we know." 

Nie Haoran frowns, tapping the letter in his hand against the arm of the chair. "What happens if you try to open the doors?" 

"Nothing. Or, honestly, no one’s been able to reach them. Every time someone tries to get in close, it's like getting bogged down in mud." 

"Hm. Alright, show me this ghost." 

Nie Leiyun can't explain the shudder of cold nausea that goes through her as her husband gets up to accompany their wife and the guard. "Wait," she wheezes, pushing herself to her feet. "I'm coming with you." 

Her partners both regard her wavering stance with concern. "Yun-er, maybe you should-" 

She shakes her head and grabs her heaviest fur cloak. "I'm coming. I- I have to. I can't explain it. But I have to." 

Her husband and wife look at each other in a short silent conversation, then her wife nods and offers an arm for her to lean on. 

—

The walk up to Xinglu Ridge has never been easy for her, even when her health was at its best, but today her legs feel extra heavy and her stomach is tying itself into a tighter and tighter knot with each step.

"Yun-er, you really should sit and rest," Nie Linsong cautions. "You're turning grey as a fierce corpse." 

Nie Leiyun shakes her head for what must be the tenth time and plows on. 

When they reach the tombs, all of the guards are standing at a short distance -not by choice, clearly- from a figure kneeling in front of the stone doors. 

A figure that glows faintly in the dim light of dusk. 

A figure that they can all partially see through. 

Her breath turns to needles in her chest and it has nothing to do with the chill in the air, but with the twisting mixture of hope and dread and love rising up in her. 

It's him. 

She knows it's him even before the young man turns his head to look at her and she is presented with an almost perfect replica of the features that she and her sister share- 

-except for his eyes, all luminous pale green like his father's and brother’s and shaped the same.

Her legs buckle, and though her partners are quick, they aren't quick enough to keep her from landing hard on her knees. 

“Huaisang…”

[blcsphemy]

ancient magic, dragons and feudal japan? sounds like a recipe for political disaster. / leiyunhq is a brand new semi-appless fantasy rp set in the fictional world of leiyun, which was inspired by the likes of edo / meiji japan, joseon and wakanda — but with bonus dragons, magic, and political drama. unfortunately, we're yet to make an appearance in the tags, so if you don't mind, a shoutout would be super helpful.

sounds great !! check it out, peeps !!

[wishuponasakuracard]

“Syaoran’s my better half,” said Leiyun softly, “You know that... Don’t you consider Sakura your better half?” 

        ~ The New Trials of Cardcaptor Sakura and Friends Chapter 73: The Other side of Midnight

Art by @tinaillustrations