#mala.txt

[nautilidaes]

trick or treat !!!! 🍬🦈 🎃 🦑 🕸️ 🐋 🍫

Please Leave Some Whale For The Other Scavengers!!!!

#mala.txt #whale fall #xxfrankieghoulsxx

[whiteknifesmile]

I posted this on Twitter a while ago and I’d like to clean it up and expand more on it but that’ll be a while and I want to preserve this original thread.

Wei Ying pressing A-Yuan into the hollow of the tree trunk.

“Xian-gege…” the little boy cries with tearful amber eyes

“It’s okay, it’s okay, my little radish!” he promises breathlessly, painting characters around the hollow, even as his body feels like it’s crumbling at the seams.

“I’m scared…”

“I know. I’m sorry, A-Yuan. Your Wen-popo- and everyone-“ he takes a deep breath and kisses A-yuan’s forehead with a sudden movement, the awareness of how little time he had hitting him with a pang. “Everything we did, all of it was for you. So you would grow up safe and happy. We love you… so much. But I think it’s time now… to try something different okay?” He smooths a finger over A-Yuan’s cheek, then his fluttering eyelids. “So, my little radish, you are going to take a little nap, and when you wake up… you’ll be just the way you need to be. And you’re going to grow up so good, from a radish to a big strong cultivator, I know it.” One more kiss, and Wei Ying rips himself away before he can lose his nerve. His smile is ragged and just as tearful. “You’re going to be amazing.”

A-Yuan blinks hazily at him, then the sleep spell drags him under and Wei Ying heaved out a grieved breath in the empty silent air around him. He knows what he’s about to do will kill him, without a doubt. But his actions have already lead to so much pain and anger and with the whole world against him, death is the least he deserves according to everyone. Wei Ying has run his luck out. No more chances, no actsof mercy or kindness left to draw on.

Despite it all, Wei Ying has one tiny piece of hope left to save from the fires of the siege. His A-Yuan, his baby radish… a-yuan never deserved a second of this retribution. From a labor death camp to a barren wasteland, his sweet boy has seemingly never had a moment’s peace or stability- but he’s still so sweet! Wei Ying knows that A-Yuan is surely not meant to die here. Not here, in this evil place full of dust and ghosts, not in the ashes of his family’s lineage, his clan annihilated. A-Yuan will not die!

And Wei Ying will make sure of it. The spell he laid on his radish was a very special one, built in his moment of terror about leaving this child behind in a world that hates his bloodline without any family left to protect him.

The spell will change A-yuan’s features, just enough to erase that tell-tale Wen nose, those Wen brown amber eyes, the distinctive Wen curls to his hair. Change to what, you may ask!

The next person who picks up A-yuan from the tree hollow, the person who the spell will decide is worthy to caretake for the little radish, the spell will find that person’s features and change A-yuan to match. To make him more like /their/ son, not a Wen’s. Like a foundling.

A-yuan has no more family in this world who can protect him. Wei Ying will simply make him some more family.

Wei Ying half wonders if his brother will be accepted by his spell. He prays that no Jin will be. But Wei Ying supposes that he’ll be dead by that point and he will have to trust in his spell enough to trust that it’ll choose whoever is best suited to raising his radish child…

Wei Ying just wishes he could have seen his A-yuan grow up, picked out his courtesy name with Wen-popo, taught him to shoot arrows with his Ning-gege too…

In a gentler but imperfect world, Jiang Cheng could’ve been his uncle and Wei Ying could have pressed A-Yuan into his arms and asked him directly to take care of his child, Jiang Cheng’s nephew, and there would be no need for uncertainty, for untested spells and shaky trust in a world cruel to him and no luck to rely on. His A-yuan could die, instead, if no one comes by the hollow.

Abandoned. Alone.

He’d never know that Xian-gege didn’t leave him behind… that this was the only way to give him the best chance to survive.

Even as the fierce corpses and ghosts tear him to pieces, slowly yet thoroughly, that thought haunts and hurts him the most, that A-yuan is hurting more.

— —- ——

When Wei Ying is reborn, or perhaps a better word is transplanted, it takes a while to get his bearings. Quite a lot happens very quickly… but seeing Jiang Cheng with his nephew, jolts at Wei Ying that he sees only one nephew, a boy with his mother’s eyes.

There is not another little shadow hiding behind his brother, no boy with his foundling father’s nose or eyes.

Wei Ying can’t think of anyone else his spell could have chosen to unveil and change A-Yuan to. So that must mean his little radish died long ago. Forgotten.

One of the little Lans hurry to Hanguang-Jun’s side, in the lull of shouting and staring contests, and Wei Ying watches with faint interest, renewed grief heavy in his heart.

The littlest Lan whispers something to Lan Wangji, and then two sets of matching golden eyes turn to look directly at Wei Ying.

Huh. He had thought that golden eyes were the hallmark of the main Lan bloodline? How’s this boy got them?

How strange. That little Lan looks just like how Lan Wangji used to look, a lifetime ago in a library that hadn’t burned yet, that little twitchy nose at Wei Ying’s antics, and that smooth straight hair down his back that Wei Ying longs to tug on and bother until that golden gaze is on him, angry and confused about it. But this little Lan… his expression is so sweet, Wei Ying instead wants to pinch his round cheeks and call him a chubby radis- no. Bunny.

Because he’s a Lan, and the nephew of a sect leader. He’s protected and cherished by his clan, well fed and educated and beloved certainly!

He’s not A-Yuan, last child of a scorned clan.

That’s Lan Wangji’s son, heir to the prestigious Lan family.

Not Wei Ying’s.

#mala.txt #untamed fanfiction #wei wuxian #a yuan #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan sizhui #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei ying #the burial mounds

[malasaucegender]

what the FUCK are truscum going ON ABOUT.

YOU can be trans and BE HAPPY BEING TRANS!!! you dont have to be miserable all the fuckin time oh my god!!!

ALSO! I DONT NEED TO BE KISSIN CIS PEOPLES ASSES ALL THE TIME! cis people are gonna hate my ass whether i look like them or not because im TRANS!

YEAH sometimes i fuckin go stealth sometimes, BUT FOR MY SAFETY!!!

YALL TRUSCUM NEED TO REEVALUATE YURSELVES and wonder why youre miserable all the damn time!!!

#tucute #truscum #trumed #trans #mala.txt

[no3113]

lorenzo die challenge

#mala.txt #critical role spoilers #cr

[eldiariodeunachicasolitari-blog1]

Últimamente he tenido de esos días donde la tristeza gana, de esos días donde todo se va a la mierda....

una mierda total

#asco #chica mala #chica suicida #chica solitaria #supernatural #quiero morir #no debería #fracasar #mala.txt

[pskiesmoved]

daraya is such a lesbian and i love her

#hiveswap #daraya jonjet #shes... goth gf #mala.txt

[jasprose]

i endorse faerie lesbians

-me, a lesbian, right now

#mala.txt #this post is basically the product of me being bored and gay #woohoo !

[politoeds]

IM SO FUCKIBG AKRJFNJSD I WENT TO REBLOG SOMETHING THEN I REALIZED IT WAS REBLOGGED FROM ME..... DUMBASS LESBIAN HOURS

#it was the second fma opening akenfjjwfj #mala.txt

[coconutcake]

I am curious about getting into the SU critical community...

Like/reblog this if you're SU Critical, a general SU blog, or have suggestions for me on who to follow 💚

#steven universe #su #su critical #su discourse #su criticism #su critique #su leaks #steven universe critical #steven universe criticism #steven universe critique #steven universe leaks #su leak #steven universe leak #mala.txt

[chaoticboring-blog]

godd im sorry im not that active ive been really busy lately

#mala.txt

[nautilidaes]

finally set up my altar... 6 months into living in the new place.

#i took some time to pray as well. my relationship with mala is... complicated right now #...to say the least. but she forgives me. and therefore i forgive me. #mala.txt #holy unholy #actuallydivine

[whiteknifesmile]

The well is in the dark rock cliffsides. It’s so different from the sun drenched waterside cliffs, where the earth is a soft tan and nearly pink from it. Where the water is a still mirror and echoing the gentle blue of the sky. Here, the water beats against the rocks, carving out divots and ledges in rough and sharp edges, no soft and serpentine curves to find.

They climb together. The railways are here too, silver, stark against the black rock. In the waterside, the railways are bright red, painted or not, more wood bars in each curving section. Plenty of space to put feet against to heave up higher and higher to touch the water, or just lean and laugh and look at the endless mirror met the sky. The silver ones are metal, slick with the water of the unhappy storm or the waves, a single pole and top bar. They invite no friends to climb and play and laugh. Instead, they barely touch and say nothing at all as they climb up the stairs higher and higher.

The well is here. They finally reach the top. A pit, a bottomless circle in the rock reaching down into the dark, and they gather around it. Stare down into it, the rope leading down for the bucket to raise the water. Everything is so black here. Their colors are so out of place as to be comical.

The smaller pink one laughs suddenly, a sound even more out of place than just their presence here at all. Their friends are so dismal, so distressed and upset. But they’re just… laughing. “Oh, goodness. I was just thinking I could use a drink of water!”

Everyone flinches.

The larger pink one grimaces and tries to say, “You don’t have to do this-“

“Mm, but I really am thirsty. And it’s not like I have much to lose at all.” A thoughtful smile, or perhaps a thoughtless smile, a contentness that stayed despite the circumstances.

“Memories- they’re important. We shouldn’t have to-“ the big pink one tries again.

“But we do have to. And I really don’t mind. After all, I’ll still have you guys! Memories, the past, what could I miss that I couldn’t have anymore, as long as you stay with me?”

The pink one goes pale, magenta to coral. “Of course- Of course we’ll stay with you. All of us. We will protect you and keep you safe.”

“Then what do I have to worry about?”

There is no more dallying then. The little pink one grabs the scratchy rope and drags it up a notch before laughing again. “Oh, I can feel it! The water’s seeped into the rope. No one else touch, okay?”

And so a hand’s width at a time, the rope is pulled up and the bucket dragged up along with it, bumping against the carved walls of the well and splashing it’s horrible, precious, dangerous cargo.

“Goodness, I’ll have to chug,” giggles the little pink one, heaving the full bucket out of the well. The other colors step back, leery of an accidental splash of the water. The bucket teems with the water, a dark pitch liquid seeming to swirl on its own. Little pink looks in it, finding strains of silver and moonlight hiding inside, fathomless. “Okay. I’m ready.” Looking up, an easy and real smile springing up at their bowed heads, their sorrowed faces. “Don’t look so worried! Huh, you’ve seen me drink two glasses of sweetwater in five seconds flat! Lethe is nothing.” A laugh like bells, bells, bells.

There is nothing else for it. No words, no second thoughts, no miraculous save at the last minute. The last moment of memory is spent laughing.

And so the bucket lifts, tips, and a little mouth pressed to the rim. A swallow and then-

A little shudder of the small pink one’s arms. The big pink one’s eyes widen. As the younger one gulps and swallows more, their body seems to jerk and nearly seize, bucket unerringly steady despite it. The older cries out, trying to reach out and take the bucket away, and the green and yellow latch on to stop them.

“No! No! It’s hurting-“

“It’s not- it’s not, we know it’s not. And we can’t stop halfway, it’s all or nothing-“

“No no no-“

And then the bucket drops and rolls, empty of every last drop, and they look now only at a familiar face with no recognition in those eyes.

It’s done.

“Oh. Oh, are-“

“Hello! Are you my friends?” A clear voice, full of that same contentness.

A flinch, a catch of breath. “… yes. Yes, we are your friends.”

“Oh, how nice. You all look like good friends!” Bells, bells, the laugh is the same. The little pink one bounces in place, coming right back up to them, back into the fold of the group like nothing had happened. The green hands touch their shoulders to see if they were really there. Yellow watches their eyes gather in details of their colors, their features. Little pink dances back in a spin, getting a new look at the dark stone cliffs around them, with unknowing eyes. “This place looks boring! Let’s go have some fun. You’ll have to tell me the best spots to play!”

A glance around, a smidge of relief and guilt, and they edge back towards the stairs as a group.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go-“ the big pink one herds the smaller, trying to protect them in the only belated way they could, from the whisper of the well behind them now. “Let’s all- we can, we can skip stones.

Little pink spins in place at the suggestion. “Oh!” A hand out, and the bigger pink is helpless not to catch it, holding it like a delicate bird. “We’re great friends, then, aren’t we?” A face upturned in trust.

“We are!” Getting closer, even more helpless to cradle that trusting face upwards, holding them close. “I promise you, we are.”

A smile full of delight. “Skipping stones with you… it feels like something that I love. Only a truly great friend could still give me that love again.”

Little pink only smiles wider at their shocked face, hands gone still.

“Time to go,” says the green one. “Please, I don’t like this place.”

The way down is silent for the giggles occasionally as they slip and slide down the sea-beaten stairs. Quite dangerous, it is, and only the ever present railways save them more than once.

“I’ll show you,” says the bigger pink one near out of nowhere as they reach the bottom, the end of it, the sea gone and the sun back. Walking longer, right on the edge of being chased by a curious little pink one. “Our spot. The best spots, to skip stones together.”

Bells again. “I’d love that. I think I’d love a lot of things, even if I can’t remember, because you’ll be there… ah! You look so sad. Well, I can’t be sorry for bringing it up again, but you really can’t look so sad. That last moment, I knew I was loved. I have no names or faces for it now, but I can feel it. You’ve always loved me, haven’t you?” with curious tip of the head.

“I have. I always have. I always will.”

“Then what have I lost?” A smile, the same and new again. “I have only gained. A new love story. A new beginning.”

#mala.txt #short fiction #short story #memory loss #memory #love #magic #colors #my fic

[malasaucegender]

OH ITS SPICE TIME !!!!!!!!!

HI!! im MALA SAUCE!!! you can call me mala or MAL FOR SHORT!!!

im an excitable, spicy little shit and i love mogai stuff! i also am a discourse blog, so beware !!!!!

i use fire/fireself, spice/spiceself and auxiliary he/him if ur brain needs to! but ples use my neopronouns if you can >:o

i kin mala sauce cookie and fire spirit cookie from cookie run mostly !!! >:}

im an adult (18-25 range) so keep that in mind. i also have undiagnosed adhd so im pro self dx because doctors have had no fuckin help!!

so anyways YAH im here to have fun and FUCK SHIT UP!!!!

#mala.txt #trendercore #transtrender #trans #tucute #mogai safe

[no3113]

beau asking yasha if she’s okay is absolutely making my night. beauregard i love you SO much

#cr #mala.txt #cr spoilers #im like 45 mins behind lol

[jasprose]

OH YEAH AND THAT LAST POST MAY SOUND NEGATIVE BUT ITS NOT IM A LESBIAN AND THATS ME ENDORSING LESBIAN FAERIES

#mala.txt #5 people other than moon liked that post & now i feel the need to clarify #anyways. faeries gay.

[politoeds]

@ my one mutual who im rb’ing all this fma stuff from: i am so sorry

#mala.txt #akdjfjjsjfs fma good