#words from the cave

[guzhufuren]

To everyone who loves The Untamed and Word of Honor! First uncensored wuxia BL series Meet You At The Blossom premieres on July 11th at 8PM GMT+8 (YouTube, iQIYI, GagaOOLala, Viki, WeTV)

reasons to watch:

it will have kissing

handholding (while high on aphrodisiacs)

cold, deranged and handsome lead Huaien

sunshine loser bisexual lead Xiaobao

sweet side couple

gays flying off the rooftops together

bridal carrying

genderfuckery

blood and sword fights

and at least one 18+ scene

[tea-cat-arts]

I simply think this fandom doesn't give Wei Wuxian enough credit for the various ways in which he saved Lan Wangji

[candiedspit]

About a friend : ELEPHANT MAN NO 81

[sevikasenby]

sevika making you wear a remote controlled vibrator so she can fuck with you while she plays cards this. sevika making you wear a remote controlled vibrator so she can fuck with you while she plays cards that. okay hear me out, sevika making you wear a wearable remote controlled dildo so she can actually fuck with you while she plays cards. thoughts?

[planetvries]

🪓🧡🏹

[fairy-verse]

what would horror do if dust were to be injured by another fairy?

It doesn’t bode well to speak of the horrors of the night.

“Bunny…”

“Hey,” speaking softly, as if to not agitate his mate any further, Dust tenderly kissed the shimmering tears that trickled so softly down Horror’s cheeks, his gentle giant just barely keeping his composure up. “I’m okay, Horror. I’m not going to die.”

Horror released a broken whine and a short sob, and he cradled the smaller fairy closer to himself as he quietly cried. “I was scared.”

“I know.”

“I thought they… they were…” his words were muddled, and his mind felt confused. His tongue felt swollen. Had he bitten it? “I thought they were going to… to take you away… to somewhere I couldn’t follow.”

“Shh, Horror,” Dust soothed, his hands stroking over Horror’s skull, his cheeks, his tense shoulders. “I’m here. I won’t leave you alone.”

Shedding more tears as softer whimpers left him, Horror desperately clung to his mate, feeling so ashamed and frightened all at the same time. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be alone. “Stay with me… please. I love you, Dust… I love you.”

With his joints growing stiffer by the minute, Dust forced himself to stay calm as he kissed Horror’s forehead, his mind filling with scribbles of the near future. “I love you, too, Horror. I won’t ever leave you. I promise.”

It doesn’t bode well to speak of the stardust that blows in the wind of the night, nor of the petite fairy who, without interrupting his lover’s restless sleep, snuck away during the cover of darkness to fill the silent hours with screams and begs for mercy. Heeding neither plea nor cry, the little fairy plunged into a pool of icy water to rid himself of glittering stardust, for once taking care to clean himself properly.

Without as much of a creak of wood or a silent hush, Dust crept into Horror’s arms once more, leaving a soft kiss atop his chest before cuddling in against his pleasant warmth.

“I promise I’ll protect you forever, Horror. I won’t ever leave you alone. Never.”

[httpschrys]

On The Allegory of the Cave by Plato

interestingliterature.com

[truth-01001001-liar]

Ilabael Muhr of Jora’ruhn

[where-the-water-flows]

hey like shout out to Jiao Liqiao, I guess, for setting up two? separate?? bases???

like on the one hand, I guess if you are planning to uhhh attic-wife your leader, even as a 'ok so plan z, none of the Seduction™ works, it's misery time', you don't want that set up in the base he is. living in.

(not that Di Feisheng actually spends a fuck of a lot of time in Jinyuan Alliance base 2: Saintess edition, given he gets out of the Jianghu ICU cave and immediately fucks off on a series of insane mid-life crisis errands, then gets amnesia'd and fucks off again with the same mid-life crisis errands But More)

and also, if you are going to set up a creepy sex dungeon trap house with Extra Torture Basement™ to attic wife said boss in, you might as well commit to the bit (which she clearly did per @bbcphile's excellent and also very upsetting meta, the dragging the bed out for display is Incredibly Distressing)

but on the other hand, like, damn girl, I know the real estate market in Xi is apparently great if you're buying cursed manors at least, but also, what the hell, you already have a base you don't need a second base, possibly you could just do a quick reno on that shit given you have literally weeks and Xi's builders apparently work at the speed of light anyway.

[guruguruguruguru]

(for the request thing) trans bito...

i'm plagued by visions (click 4 quality)

[arealtrashact]

Hi! I love your work and would pay big fat dolla dolla bills for an art book showcasing your work! I bought that one CDQ issue just because you were featured in it. You’re amazing! AAAAH!

Thank you. That is is. 😌

That's very sweet, thank you so much !

Context : I was featured (alongside some truly incredible artists) in the magazine Character Design Quarterly a year or so ago. I talked a little about character design and what I do. It was a lot of fun !

[grewlikefancyflowers]

a key aspect of wwx as an inventor is his resourcefulness. he rarely invents wholly new things, he repurposes things that already exist.

the primary example is obviously ghostly cultivation, in which he repurposes the resentful energy of ghosts for his own means. wwx notes this himself, saying 'why waste it when it can be useful'.

and there is the yin hufu. the sword had been in the xuanwu for years, absorbing centuries of resentful energy from those who'd died, it even harmed wwx at the time. but he still thought 'this can be made into something useful' months later, he even remembered it and went back for it.

his evil-attraction talismans were made directly from evil-repelling talismans. he wasn't just inspired by them, he literally added a few strokes in his own blood to the evil-repelling talismans the wens had set up, reversing their function.

this is a constant of wwx's characterisation, he remembers the protective embroidery in the lan's robes and uses it to shield sizhui at mo manor, he needed a flute and so carved one directly from a nearby bamboo tree, in yi city he immediately knows to find a building with a living(ish) resident so he can have access to a stocked kitchen to make healing congee, and he repurposes the funeral paper effigies to fight for him. in any scenario, he instinctively notes and uses the resources around him, often repurposing them in a unique way.

this is fundamental to wwx—he innately thinks outside the box, is never confined by norms and expectations and is unafraid to directly challenge them. these traits are the source of his genius as well as his defiance of his society.

[hanzajesthanza]

i was looking up tips for formatting bilingual books (for example, a copy of idk the iliad with ancient greek on one side, english translation on the other), but i didn’t know the word describing this kind of format 🤔

so i was stringing together keywords like “book with two languages” and one of the results was a reddit post with someone trying to find a book that alternates between multiple languages, i.e., there are no translations, it’s it’s one text, but half of the story is in english, then the other half, or interwoven throughout, is in french or whatever

and it took strength to not suggest the hussite trilogy 🥴

[harpieisthecarpie]

to every entity populating online book and writing repositories with ai garbage: i hope the crushing weight of your inadequacy becomes all-encompassing and suffocating in a way that not even sleep allows you to escape

This includes, but is not limited to, ai pantomimes of:

Picture books

Audiobooks

Fanfiction

Anything going onto a free library resource

Characters, done by feeding actual writing to a 3rd party site

Scripts

"True" stories and "facts"

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[sansloii]

“It needs to get colder faster. None of this “80 degrees in the middle of fuckin' October” type of shit.”