#i am not calling it that other fuckin thing

[wcnderlnds]

fool of tears | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・summary: meeting your childhood best friend again was never in the cards but fortunately for you, he's still there in your time of need. ・❥・word count: 2k ・❥・warnings: mentions of drugs, blood and usual squid game things. swearing. reader has a panic attack. female reader. ・❥・authors note: nabi means butterfly in korean! i thought it'd be cute ok thank you <3

There had been something off about this place from the get go. It was a feeling, something deep inside that didn’t sit right the second you had woken up in a bunk in completely different clothes. That was the first sign that something was wrong. The guards had done nothing to explain. In fact, if anything, they had avoided directly answering the questions asked among the crowd of hundreds of people. There had been so many questions floating through your mind but you’d stayed quiet. Never one to speak in front of so many people, you kept to yourself. The mere thought of voicing your concerns to anyone you didn’t know made the anxiety bubble up inside you. It was better to keep it to yourself. Whatever was happening here, you would get through it on your own. There was no other way. It wasn’t like you knew anyone here anyway. 

As you stepped out through the doors, you felt the wind hit your face causing you to look up. The roof had parted, the blue sky above visible. At least it wasn’t raining. That would be just another damper on an awful day. You tugged down the sleeves of your tracksuit jacket, clutching at the ends to give yourself sweater paws. Being here surrounded by so many people was so far out of your comfort zone. You were an introvert, someone who much preferred to stay at home and be alone. It was your biggest flaw. Social situations made you nervous, you often found yourself unable to speak. It all came down to the fact you were shy and painfully so. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to people, just the mere thought of it made you clam up. What if you embarrassed yourself? What if everyone secretly hates you? That wasn’t something you could handle so keeping to yourself had been your remedy for as long as you could remember.

Feet scuffed the sand under your feet, the stone crunching underneath the sole of your shoes as your eyes landed on a big robotic doll. Huh, that was weird. Hugging your arms around your body, you stood there but suddenly your eyes started ringing when you heard a voice that you hadn’t heard in years.

“No fuckin’ way,” Su-bong explained, coming to a halt at your side. His head was tilted as he examined you, his brows scrunched up to make sure he wasn’t mistaking you for someone else.

It felt like your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach. Oh, great. Su-bong was the last person you ever wanted to talk to. It took all of your willpower to ignore him, pretend like he wasn’t standing directly next to you, eyeing you up like you were a whole new entity to him when in reality you had been the only true friend he’d ever had.

“Hey,” he waved his hand in front of your face to get a reaction, pouting when you didn’t even blink. Were you really still mad at him? Or maybe you didn’t recognise him. “Senorita, it’s me. Thanos. You know, your best friend from waaaay back when we were kids. I know, I look a little different but…”

Before he could carry on with his rambling, you cut him off, still refusing to look at him. “No, my best friend was called Su-bong and was a really cool guy until he started rapping and got a whole new group of friends and left me for dirt.”

“Ah, so you are still mad!”

“Of course I am, Su-bong!” Finally, you turned to face him. He almost recoiled when he saw the thunderous look in your eyes but the way your fingers were pulling at the sleeves of your jacket he knew you were nervous. It was a habit you always had — a way of protecting yourself. “You’re an asshole and I want… no, I need you to leave me alone, okay? I don’t want anything to do with you, just like you didn’t want anything to do with me back then, got it?”

“Aw come on! If you’d just let me apologise, you wouldn’t be so mad. Pretty fucked up that you’re pissed after all these years. Thought you’d have got over it by now but you’re still as stubborn as ever. Always hated that about you,” he huffed, folding his arms across his chest as another playing began yelling.

“Leave me alone,” you hissed. Before he could open his stupid mouth again, you made a beeline to get closer to the man that was yelling so you could hear him better. Luckily, Thanos didn’t follow you.

As much as you would've liked someone to lean on, Su-bong was unfortunately not that person. Better than anyone you knew not to trust him. That trust had been burned a long time ago. Back when you were kids, the two of you had been as thick as thieves. It was like you were joined at the hip with the way you were always with each other. He had been your first and most important friend. The Su-bong you knew was sweet, he always looked out for you and made sure you knew how important you were. Being as shy and quiet as you were, it was often hard for you to break out and make friends of your own so Su-bong had always tried to include you in everything he did. Things had been so good until they weren’t. 

From the very first day you had met him, he had told you his desire to be a rapper so when he started getting into it and performing small shows at clubs once you got older, you were so happy for him. Each show you attended to cheer him on, he got better and better. The only thing that didn’t was his mental state and the friends he had surrounded himself with. You had first suspected something when he started getting snappy with you – something he never did. Patience had never been his strong suit but he had so much love in his heart for you that he tried his best. It started off small – arguments here and there until he completely started ditching you.

His new friends weren’t the sort of people many associated with so maybe you should’ve seen it coming but finding out he had become dependent on some colourful little pills had broken your heart. Su-bong’s home life had never been the best but he had always tried. His main goal in life was to make his mom proud. You had never expected him to take this route but he had and broke your heart in the process. It was him who cut all contact off slowly but surely. There was no use fighting it – he had a new life, he didn't need you. All you could do was carry on with your own life.

Now, here you were, in the same place as your old best friend who you hadn’t seen in two years. It was hard not to run to him, to tell him you forgave him but you couldn’t. If there was one thing you had, that was self respect and you would never give that up for any man.

—--

The gunshots still echoed through your ears no matter how many times you had covered them. It was like a never-ending record, one that you wished would stop. Your shaky palms sat in front of you, blood splattered across them and your jacket. One of the people in front of you had been shot causing you to get caught in the crossfire, their blood spraying all over you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hands. The need to scrub yourself clean for hours upon hours ate at you but you couldn’t move. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Oh no.

The tears flowed freely down your face as you tried to remember how to breathe. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, beating faster than it ever had. The room was spinning, your eyes squeezing shut to try and stop the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Hey, Nabi, look at me.” The familiar voice you knew so well came from in front of you. It was too hard to focus on what he was saying until you heard the nickname you hadn’t heard in years. “Going to need you to open your eyes for me.”

It was Su-bong’s gentle hand resting on top of yours, thumb running across your skin that made you finally open your eyes. The second you did you met his concerned brown ones. As your eyes scanned his face, the tears still flowing freely down yours, you noticed the specks of blood on his cheek. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, like there was no oxygen left in the world as you tried to breathe.

“Nah, right here,” he titled your face so your eyes were focused on his. “Take a breath in and out. Can you do that for me? I’ll do it with you.” 

As he began to take a breath in, you tried to follow. It took a few more tries but finally your breathing started to even out. “That’s my girl.”

The pads of his thumb began to wipe away your tears, letting the silence surround you so you could have a moment to yourself to calm down. When you finally felt you could talk without blubbering, you said the words that had been on the tip of your tongue the second you’d seen Su-bong crouched in front of you. “What…what are you doing?”

“Saw you crashing out and couldn’t let you go down like that on your own. I know you think I don’t or didn’t give a shit about you but that’s never been true. You can hate my fuckin’ guts for all I care, Nabi but I won’t ever let you go through a panic attack by yourself,” he spoke with such sincerity that you almost started crying again. This was the Su-bong that you remembered.

“I don’t hate you,” you confessed, your voice sounding quieter than usual but the emotions behind it more than evident. “I was and still am hurt… and disappointed.”

He frowned, tearing his eyes away from you but you caught the vulnerability in them. The drugs must’ve worn off because when they did he was just as scared and anxious as you were. That had been one of the reasons you’d bonded as children. “Yeah, well…”

“Thanks. For helping.”

“No biggie.”

The silence settled between you once again, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. His hands were back by his sides, picking at a loose thread on the pants he was wearing. If this was back in the day, you would’ve thrown your arms around him in a hug but… no. Instead, you awkwardly wiped at your face with the sleeves of your sweater, uttering your next words almost under your breath. “I’m scared.”

“Me too. I’m fuckin’ scared shitless but I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear me? I don’t give a shit if you don’t believe me or trust me. There’s no way you’re dying in this place,” he looked at you with such fierce determination. His voice steady, a slight quiver when he said he was scared. It was nice to see him being so vulnerable; that had been something that had got lost once he started to change. “Gonna keep my eye on you, okay?”

A firm nod your way and he was back to his feet, heading back to his friend who had been glaring at you the whole time. There was no way you trusted Su-bong but there had been something in the way he spoke that made you realise he meant what he said. He would look out for you whether you liked it or not.

Maybe if you both got out of here, you’d be able to tell him how much you did appreciate it.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey @infinetlyforgotten

[moody-alcoholic]

MIA

Price x Ghost but Ghost is kidnapped on a botched mission…

Who am I kidding it’s basically a poly141 again because I have no self control.

CW: Kidnapping, violence, use of weapons, description of injuries, torture, possessiveness, death.

---

Price would do this for anyone on 141. Sacrifice his entire military career for any of them.

Kyle.

Johnny.

Simon.

They’re his fuckin’ family, his reason to wake up in the morning. His reason to keep fighting the good fight. Right now he feels like he’s failed them all, most of all Simon.

He remembers Shepard's brief; a new terrorist organisation sweeping through Europe. Put a stop to them before they can attack again.

They had a location, they had solid intel, they had a name. It was almost routine, painfully so, infiltrate, capture or kill.

Textbook.

It was a shock to them all when the tunnel blew, when Ghost got left behind.

Price couldn’t tell what was worse, Johnny’s screams or the thought of leaving Ghost behind. Not Ghost, Simon. His family, his partner.

He let him down, left him behind to be captured by the enemy. He had to make that choice as a Captain, for the well being of his team.

The shouting at Soap and Gaz to run felt like a fever dream, he needed to get them out the tunnel before the rest of the charges went off.

He left Simon behind. MIA.

That’s what they classified it as. When they were going through the debrief. Shepherd stood there with Laswell by his side refusing-point blank-to let them go back for him.

“We do not have the resources for a full blow rescue mission captain.” Shepard snapped over the table.

“Are you going to stop me?” Price asked snapping back at him. He felt Kyle’s hand land on his shoulder, Johnny’s raw tear stained eyes digging into him.

“You have orders to follow Captain. Anything else will be classed as treason.”

“General.” Laswell called trying to calm him down.

John didn’t care, he had already made his mind up. They were getting Simon back, no matter what it takes.

He tried to stop them. Told Johnny and Kyle to their faces that if they followed him they would be ending their careers too. He was more then happy to do this alone, he was ready to do this alone.

“This is not your responsibility.” John said watching their expressions, they looked between each other before turning back to him.

“We do this together.” Kyle said.

“No one fights alone.” Johnny said.

It was easy to grab gear and a car. Almost too easy. No one stopped them, no one questioned them. If they did it wouldn’t have mattered, they would have to catch them first.

“I can’t believe Shepard wanted to leave him.” Soap says a few minutes into the journey.

“We never leave anyone behind.” Gaz snaps looking over at Price from the driver seat. John smiles at him then goes back to looking out the window.

“Sure this is where he’ll be?” Soap asks from the back seat.

“If Laswell’s intel is good it’s the best shot we have.” Price said.

The rain was hammering down by the time they made it to to the building. The whole place was an abandoned office block or something. Price didn’t care, Simon was in there that’s what mattered, that’s all that mattered.

The car comes to a stop the engine is turned off. Price jumps out, he picks his weapon up, feeling the cold metal on hands. He looks up at the dark building, he can feel his heart thump in his chest as he steady's his breathing trying to ground himself.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got your back Captain.” He swallows the nerves.

“Lets move.” He orders.

…

Its dark. Dark and cold.

That’s all he feels, cold air making him shiver. They stripped him of his clothes first. Hands wrapping round his throat, skin meeting skin. Punches to the stomach and face.

He tried to fight but the explosion was close, it hit him hard knocking him off his feet. He barely had time to orient himself before people attacked him.

He heard John last. He heard the order to fall back.

He heard the order to leave him.

That was the last thing he heard before he woke in a new place.

It’s dark, he's strapped to a chair in a room with open windows. He can hear the wind, the rain.

It’s cold, the chill causing goosebumps to rise on his half naked body.

They took everything but his boxers and jeans. They’ve already tried to get info from him, the flashes of pain across his chest. Never deep enough to kill him, just enough to hurt him.

He’s stronger then they think, stronger then they’re prepared for.

John left him behind but he will never betray them.

Not his family, the people he loves. The people he spent the last few years letting himself get close to.

John.

Johnny.

Kyle.

His family. His partners.

No doubt his captors be back soon for another round. Another attempt to get him to talk. This could go on for days, weeks. He has to assume the worst, that no one is coming for him.

He has to keep it together, he can’t let them break him. He’s stronger then this, he's been through worse. He’ll keep it together till the bitter end.

He chuckles, he can hear shots. His mind is already playing tricks on him. For a second he lets himself believe its rescue, he lets himself have a moment of weakness. A pained groan leaves his throat as he tries to pick his head up. His eyes are swollen from the beating he’s taken. His chest caked in a thick layer of dried blood and sweat.

There’s a bang, so loud his head snaps to the side, a faint light floods into the room. His ears are ringing as he hears orders being shouted.

The voice sounds so familiar, his heartbeat picks up as someone comes over to him. Hands find his face for a second pulling his head straight.

“We’re here, you’re okay.”

“John?” He asks, his voice catching in his throat. A mask is pulled over his face, it feels familiar, warm, safe. He feels the restraints round his hands vanish.

“It’s okay, we’re here Simon.” It is John talking to him. He feels Johns forehead pressed against his. “We got you, you’re safe, we’re here now.”

Hands grip his shoulders.

“Get him out of here.” John says standing up. Simon almost wants to reach out for him.

“Where are you going?” That’s Johnny. His voice is usually so relaxed, he sounds serious, his words harsh cutting through the air.

“Get him out of here!” John snaps.

“‘Cause sir,” another set of arms hooks under his armpits. He looks over at John pressing another mag into his weapon. His arms are pulled over shoulders as he’s dragged over to the other side of the room.

“John.” He tries to call but it comes out so quiet.

“Stay with us Lt.” Johnny says, pulling him against him so Gaz can call the lift. He’s dragged inside, Gaz coming to look at him, his hands running over his chest.

“We’re getting you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

He lets out a breath closing his eyes as the door to the lift closes.

…

John is on a warpath. It’s been years since he’s been this angry, this focused. His he squeezes the barrel of his weapon firing off shots at anyone he sees. The image of Simon, blooded and bruised tied in a chair, so exposed, so vulnerable. It made him feel sick.

There are only enemies in this building, a building that needs to be rid of the despicable people who hurt Simon. His lieutenant, they have no idea what they’re messing with.

How dare they.

He lets the smell of blood and gunpowder fill his nose with every room he clears. He expected more, more resistance, more people to take his anger out on.

Christian, that was the name they were given. He was running the whole operation, that’s his target. The person who would have ordered terror attacks, planted the bombs in the tunnel, ordered Simon’s torture.

How dare he.

John makes it to the next floor he spies someone with his back to the door. He takes his knife off his hip sneaking up to the man and pressing the knife to his throat, wrapping his arm round his body holding him in place.

“Where’s Christian?” He growls in his ear.

“N-next floor.” The man sobs. John slits his throat letting his body fall to the floor. He doesn’t bother cleaning the knife putting it back in the holster. He continues clearing the floor. One body, two, three, four…

The walk up to the next floor feels surreal. He changes the mag in his weapon clicking it in place before walking into what used to be an open plan office. The place is surprisingly empty, still he can’t help checking every cubical, every corner. He makes it across to the only other room in the building. There is light coming through the bottom of the door.

He takes in a deep breath moving his finger to the trigger and kicks the door open.

The man behind the desk stands up, his arms raised in the air. He reaches for his weapon, Price fires off the shot hitting him in the shoulder causing him to collapse to the ground. He walks round the desk watching him writhe on the floor.

Price kicks him, his hand tries to grab Price’s foot. Price pulls it away then slams his foot down on his wounded shoulder.

“Christian?” Price asks.

“Fuck you!” The man shouts back. Price lets out a breath and shoots in him in the head. His body goes limp, he removes his foot and turns back to the office door.

It’s done.

Now all that matters is Simon. All that matters is Simon.

---

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

soldiermedic that started with soldier being completely and utterly enraptured and blown away by medic preforming the most basic of medical tasks like skillfully and quickly wrapping a wrist with a bandage. Soldier is there like "HOLY MOTHER MARY OF JOSEPH. YOU OUGHTA BE NEXT HEAD OF THE STATE FOR THE SKILL YOU POSSESS, MAGGOT!! NO, SCRATCH THAT- NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!!! YOU ARE AN ASSET TO THIS COUNTRY, SON!!!"

amd then he steps out of the infirmary and shouts at the first person he sees like "SCOUT, DO YOU SEE THIS SHIT?? LOOK AT HOW GOOD MEDIC WRAPPED MY ARM. YES IT WAS BROKEN. YES ITS BECAUSE I TRIED TO JAM MY HAND UP THE TOILET HOLE AGAIN. SHUT YOUR MOUTH OR ILL SHOVE YOUR HAMSTRINGS DOWN YOUR THROAT. NOW LOOK!! MEDIC WRAPPED IT!!!! MY BABYGIRL DID THAT!!!!!!!" Soldier is so so proud of Medic. So completely head over heels for his big naturals bbg.

and Medic is just like. Ooh hooh! What a hunk of an endearingly brick-stupid man.

WAITTTT I LOVE THIS... Medic is quite possibly the most self-obsessed man ever put on the page and I think getting this kind of High Praise from Soldier reaaally goes to his head too. Like logically he knows it's Just a wound dressing he's not actually any better at it than anybody else, but in the part of his brain that's Medic-shaped (most of it) he's like maybe I AM the best bandage-wrapper of all time. Everything a hot person tells you must be true so yknow

[lovelyrotter]

ill probably delete this in a minute but ive just been fuckin boggled by what ive seen across tumblr in the last few days in particular. its why i havent really been around. like holy fucking shit, its really like some of yall just dont want a chunk of the trans community to exist. like some of yall are thisclose to saying it verbatum. way too many already have. 'shut up sit down be quiet and smile for us' type shit, gee where have i heard that before. oh yeah my entire life cause i was forcefully gendered as someones daughter. shock horror i know. you might be surprised to remember and/or learn that very few trans folks know theyre trans before we're 5, or even 10, and that that gendered experience stays with all of us in both/either small or large ways. either bc we literally dont have a solid identity yet (bc we're very small children), dont have the words, we're repressing it out of fear from how others will treat us, we're actually enjoying or enjoyed being another gender in our childhood, or we just genuinely didnt fuckin know until shit lined up later in life. weird isnt it that transmascs dont pop out as 6'1 brick shithouse cis men when we're born so yall know for certain that we're confused lost girls/women oops i mean big dangerous scary men. its almost like we're transgender too. none of yall actually know what intersectionality is or means

[sluckythewizard]

THEY could give me the surgurey i need (inspired alot by evojellys designs for em. GREAT STUFF)

[quirkle2]

suncaster warriors :)

[please don't tag as LU] ; character info under the cut

goes by wars and captain

24, 5'7"

he/him

demifluix and ace

kind and caring and silly (so silly)

heart of gold

a bit of a workaholic

has to have 1 hug every day or he will Die

in a qpr with legend <3

fights with a sword and shield

excellent leader, excels in fighting against crowds

FAST

banned from his era

dark world form is a silver ferret

[ghoul--doodle]

What inspires/references do you use for your original designs? I'm always impressed with how unique each one looks!!

AUGHSSJD that’s really sweet of you to say thank you! But I unfortunately don’t really have any sort of process for my designs they sorta just

Appear???

Like genuinely I just

A guy pops into my brain and I have to draw them

I’m basically just coping directly what I can see in my mind’s eye- and I have no idea how my brain spawns these ideas they Just Happen

I get such a vivid picture sometimes that I don’t know what’s caused it or what’s inspired it I JUST have to draw the new cool dude who rotates in my brain

[crossbackpoke-check]

tagged by ko @tofumilanesa for wip wednesday! big shout out to writevember for making me feel like i can actually call any of these works in progress… your guide to my emoji code under the cut

wip!

🪻🐈‍⬛ - the doc title is still just. YOWLING but i am like 7/8 of the way done with omega yamo fic and hopefully salem isn’t reading this so i can just drop it over a year later with no warning <3

🫃2️⃣ - DEWEY^2 P2!!!! she is almost done (i am lying) but she is so close i can almost taste it. sorry to my pwp that grew its own feelings baby

😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜) - rip i’m not telling you about this one until it’s posted but it IS complete aside from being ao3 formatted and the eight billion edits i inevitably do right before full-sending it

☁️💧 - cloud petey fic, which exists mostly as an embarrassingly large tag on a different blog and is condensing into a narrative about as well as water at 30° N/S. the time loop fic also falls under this description

eternally in progress (short list)

🌑🐕 - tyler borzoituzzi exists… there is an index of scenes/plot points… it plays like a movie in my head…

💯❕- fantastic! ‘verse

👁️👻 - stevie brandon seeing ghosts au, which has eight different (now nine i guess but you haven't seen the mustache adam post yet) plots. sorry

just. rotating like a microwave

🍎 - because they didn’t have a pomegranate emoji, this is what i used for the fic that feels like it should be a 50k connor bedard character study hanif abdurraqib/cathal kelly thesis about legends and mythmaking in sports and eating your young. yes i know pomegranates aren’t actually pomes and apples are but it’s fine

🦈 - the one cat da fuck they doing over there meme but about the sharks just like. in general. more on this at five

tagging @colap1nto, @songsandswords, @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @acheronist, and anybody else who wants to share!!

[lupismaris]

..

[dewgongs]

ughh why do i have to have njghtmares about them

[feroluce]

smth smth yingfeng paralleling farcille

(magically inclined long lived partner tries to defy death by bringing their short lived partner back to life/have immortality but they come out Wrong(tm) instead)

just. the parallels <3

RIGHT? Like oh my god I love the idea of it: a mortal and immortal character falling in love, and the immortal one doing something horribly taboo for them to be together forever. But maybe they fuck something up, or maybe it's just their punishment for playing god, but their now-immortal lover Comes Back Wrong.

I'm actually not caught up on dunmeshi (I get the gist of farcille from socmed, though) but I really like an Inuyasha/Kikiyo flavor to it- Mortal lover is full of rage and hatred, immortal one can't not love them, and then they romantically and dramatically die together murder-suicide style and drag each other to hell. You know, the good shit. ☆

It is one of my ideal dynamics for a bad end pairing. And I do like necromancy shenanigans with a happier/good end, like farcille style too! Just...I don't like either situation for yingyue.

I don't think there's anything wrong with playing with them that way as long as you don't pass it off as canon, like I say all of this with no judgment. But I'm picky and I like to follow canon more closely so I can't really see them in that kind of scenario haha.

It's just! Yingxing's whole deal is that he's a haughty, spiteful, arrogant asshole of a man whose life mission is to be such a damn good craftsman that he can tell all the Xianzhou Natives who looked down on him to suck his short life species dick and flip them the bird. Him being made immortal takes all the fun out of it for me and kinda removes a central part of his character. I LOVE him being petty and full of himself. He should do it more!

And I am so so dearly enamored with the relationship between him and Baiheng. I can't write her out of the whole equation, especially considering she and Yingxing both Came Back Wrong from this incident, and she was the actual intended target.

Like. He loved her. Yingxing loved her. Baiheng was so, so important to him. She's referred to as "the beloved" in Blade's character stories. He called her his bosom friend. He handmade a jade flask just for her.

Not a weapon,

not something she needed,

not something he was doing to show off,

just a flask.

Something pretty, and just for her, something that she would like and use everyday. Not a need, but a want. He did it simply because he wanted to give her a present.

She was the first person to really encourage and believe in him. She helped him come out of his shell (so all that arrogance is her fault BSMZJMS). That animated short where they went up in her star skiff together and she called him cute fucking killed me. They make me chew concrete.

And she was really important to Dan Feng too! He wouldn't have tried to bring her back, otherwise! She died saving him. And he knew what he was doing when he chose to try to bring her back as a Vidyadhara. He had to have. There's no way he couldn't have known that his life was forfeit after this. They don't let you get away with purposely breaking one of the Ten Unpardonable Sins like that.

And he chose to do it anyway. He still chose her life over his own. Dan Feng loved her, too.

He and Yingxing both worked together to try to bring her back because she was someone neither of them could bear to lose.

So if anything, I feel like yingyue is more like larcille bringing back their beloved Falin haha

But no matter who is romantically involved with who, like. It's the love between all three of them that's important.

That's the secret ingredient that makes the triumph of Falin's rebirth and the horrific tragedy of the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae so emotional. Because these were things that could not have happened unless they all loved each other.

[pumpkindogart]

Stop fucking bringing up the Spine's stupid ass mustache if y'all are going to just immediately shit on it it's so fucking annoying

[giantkillerjack]

Literally every piece of cookware/dish that has ever been devised in the history of mankind: You can wash me with soap and water!

Cast iron skillet: tehe 🤭 soap and water? I guess that's fine if you like your steak rusty haha 🙈 I can only be washed with salt and oil and lemon and spit or I will immediately die haha so just spit on me okay spit on me and make me clean, mommy 🤗🥵😏💦👅👅👅

Me:

[faradaykay]

being aroace is crazy bc sometimes it's like. whoo yay i have such a wider perception of relationships that's so cool yay!!! and sometimes it's like. i hate this it sucks

[constellationcrowned]

((I want everyone to keep something in mind in regards to this blog and this is going to sound like a general, common sense post (and in a way it is) but it's also hi I'm in your house, whispering into your ear, telling you to call ga//amestop and ask them if they have bat//tleto//ads---, blah blah, basically it's personal too:

With me, regardless of blog or content, both communication and engagement go hand in hand. Communication and engagement needs to go both ways.

I love posting and reblogging memes and calls and will continue to do so but you folks---old mutual or new mutual doesn't matter---need to take the initiative yourself sometimes too. Be enthusiastic. Be spontaneous. Be proactive. I don't want to ask people to write with me all of the damn time nor do I want to chase after people all of the time because if I have to do that constantly over and over again it starts feeling incredibly one sided even when it isn't (because ofc people have lives, specific interests, anxiety, and whatever else which are all things that I deal with myself and I understand how that can stop someone from doing something, but that's how it feels especially over an extended period of time) and I don't need to explain how disheartening and draining that can be.

My seeming to interact with only one person---and for both of my blogs it's @magioffire and we all know that---it's not because we're being stuck up, elitist or whatever inane and incorrect term people want to throw at our feet it's because we engage and communicate. The give and take between us (both from an ic and ooc standpoint) never feels imbalanced or even transactional (I really hate using that word but, again I gotta stress this, that's how this makes me feel) and I have never felt like I needed to chase them down for an interaction or had to fight for a scrap of their time---which feels like a feat bc Blair has a lot of people scrambling at their door---and I cannot tell you how huge that is. That sounds like a huge sweeping thing to say, I know, but I mean it in all of the little ways too. I could post some stupid bullshit on here; not a starter or a meme just a little random muse thought or observation, and 100% of the time here comes Blair telling me what they think or adding on to it or just...whatever. They're here for both me and my muses for the big and small things, whenever I've asked and, more often than not, when I haven't (or couldn't) and that's incredibly important. It's that kind of stuff that makes what we have special and that's putting it super lightly. And yes, our relationship both as friends and as writers has developed over a long time, and we did click immediately that's true, but there's never been any doubt to cast upon the work and effort both of us have put forth.

And this post isn't to say that I'm demanding constant or immediate attention from you all---because, again, we all have lives, health issues, etc, etc, and all of that takes precedence over a hobby as I've said before and will say again and again---but....put some effort into it when you have the capability. Yes, like the calls that I post or send a meme in, absolutely, but also message me on your own and ask a question or shoot a muse a random prompt or just @ me in a post. Show me some enthusiasm and engagement on your end because right now it feels like I'm doing all the work all of the time and that's tiring. I'm tired of handing stuff to people all of the time---I'll keep doing it, obviously, because I need and want to engage on my end and love throwing stuff at people and providing opportunities---all I'm asking for is understanding and reciprocation.

If you can't reciprocate for whatever reason? Tell me.

If you're unsure about something, no matter what that something is? Tell me.

If you need help or even a specific kind of accommodation in order for us to start interacting or continue interacting? Tell me.

Don't just assume that I don't want to write with you or that you can't ask me for things. Don't assume that I'm being a snob or whatever else just because I seem to be paying attention to a certain mun full time because do you know what that actually is? That's friendship. That's effort. That's me giving back what I've been given. That's me reciprocating the enthusiasm, love and creativity that I've been handed, nothing more. There's nothing unobtainable or gatekeep-y about that either, you just need to be earnest and forthcoming with me and I can assure you that I'll return the favor in kind.))

[fefairys]

ramble about anxieties with psy that got longer than i inteded so its going under the break

my sibling pointed out that we should be careful with melody's character at the risk of falling into stereotypes of black and trans women being seen as annoying/loud/too much but like she is just such a Real Person to me that if we toned her down to try and avoid those stereotypes it would feel Wrong to me? like to me she is not a stereotype she is just a person who is having fun. and the thing is everyone adores her for it, no one except psy thinks she is annoying or Too Much, they love her. but like that is such a major concern to me that i was sure we were gonna get hate mail the second her chapter dropped (so so thankful that everyone seems to love her as much as we do and that that did not happen lol) and now that someone actually pointed it out (my fucking SIBLING no less) i am so anxious about it all over again when i had previously gotten over it and decided 'no, she's not a stereotype, she's a human with many multitudes!'

toning her down and making her "nicer" or whatever seems like. worse. it's just this loop of like. okay but we wrote her that way and we didnt have to. but shes such a real person in our heads. but shes NOT a real person shes a fictional character and we can write her however we want. idk i dont think it is an issue like i think she is good. i think you just gotta see that shes a very complex individual, as are all of the characters in psy. it would be even worse to make her Perfect and Nice and Never Does Anything Wrong to avoid making a black trans woman look bad on screen. like shes not perfect despite everyone she knows seeing her that way. and her seeing herself that way as a coping tool i have said too much