#TIME FOR PAIN

[smolestboop]

there is still hope in this hell

[kjlikesfemmetops]

ITS DONE

[trcshcans]

closed starter for cersha @ironlamb

the castle that has once felt like the only home they have known, has started to feel like a jail cell. perhaps it was just her guilt eating away at her, but every corner she turned, she was expecting to come face to face with one of the many people she was hoping to avoid. between the targaryens themselves, with the secrets of xaerys' death and the love she can no longer have, and the targaryens by marriage, alson was constantly holding her breath. of course she couldn't avoid them completely, she was the commander of queensguard and needed to keep a vigilant eye on all of them, especially as war brewed. instead of the face to face time she once had with the dragons, she has focused on training both the white cloaks and gold cloaks in preparation for a siege.

they were on their way to the white tower to retire for the night when she spots cersha walking the corridor towards her. instinct tells her to run, to not stop to speak to her. but of course, she can't do that, it would be seen as rude and suspicious. instead, she continues on down the hall and gives her a nod. "good evening, my lady," she says politely though the words taste like poison on her lips. "i was about to retire for the evening but if you were in need of something, i can assist you or send one of the other white cloaks."

[stuckinthefade]

[thebiscuiteternal]

For the writing jam: perhaps Nie Mingjue interacting with post-canon Lan Xichen or Nie Huaisang? Could be some time travel fuckery or like a scenario where they meet in a sort of state like dream. How would he react? Would NMJ know how different they are while they pretend as if they're still fine? Do they tell them about JGY?Depending on if this NMJ was before or after the Sunshot Campaign, it'd be a really interesting to see you write it!

So... you might regret this, because you've given me the perfect opportunity to resurrect a very old, very evil idea.

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

He can tell something is off as soon as he opens his eyes.

When he sits up, the sheets feel... older than he can remember. Stiff, as if the bed had been made and then left for a very long time.

Like they were the first time he'd forced himself to move into the room after Fuqin's death.

But this is his room, with the desk he'd moved from his old one, and Baxia's stand beside the-

Wait.

Baxia isn't there.

Where-

This better not be some prank by his brother, he thinks as he gets out of bed. He's been in even less of a mood for putting up with Huaisang's childish nonsense since the war ended than he had been before.

As he walks into the hall, he registers that it's... oddly quiet.

They'd been busy with sending out building crews to damaged villages and re-stocking supplies for winter and a thousand other things-

-so why is it so quiet?

He opens the door to one of the porch hallways, but what he sees only adds to his confusion.

There are people bustling about, going about their tasks, but not only can he not hear anything that's going on, he has never seen a good number of them before, even though they wear the colors of the sect and he had been the one to initiate the new members and staff.

Shaking his head, he spots a face he does recognize when their sect's resident pharmacist approaches, but she never so much as looks up from her lists in response to his call.

As she walks past, he sees the silver streak in her hair.

What is going on?

He decides he should find his brother. Even if Huaisang doesn't know what's happening either, it's better that they not be separated until they do.

He turns to head for the aviary that he constantly has to drag Huaisang out of, but doesn't make it more than a few steps before a prickling chill goes up his spine.

No... not there.

His instincts, for some reason, instead pull him towards the main hall.

Crossing the open main grounds, he notices other things that are... different. Things that could easily be chalked up to just the repairs that had to be made because of the war, but...

When he shoves open one of the great doors, he's hit with a blast of air that's positively frigid, cutting through his summer clothing like the worst of their winter gales. It passes with the same speed, leaving a chill settled in the air that only ratchets up his unease.

For a moment, he's relieved to see a familiar white-robed back, but as he gets closer, he pauses.

Xichen looks... old.

His face is still smooth and unlined, his hair still full and black, but his eyes...

Guilt and pain and weariness make him look aged in ways that aren't showing in the rest of him. He doesn't stand as straight as he did the last time they'd been in the same room, as if the weight of those same emotions is bowing him a little. His mouth is pressed into a thin line as if he's holding back tears.

Why is he-? What could possibly make him look like this, when just days before, he'd been almost radiant as a result of the sworn brotherhood ceremony?

For the first time since he woke up, he hears the click of footsteps on stone, and when he turns around-

"Huaisang?" he asks, stunned and disbelieving at the sight of the man in front of him.

Because it is Huaisang, and yet he has changed even more than Xichen has. Gone is his bright-eyed and round-cheeked brother in robes with ink and paint-stained sleeves, and instead-

Like Zhang Min before, Huaisang never even notices his presence, and when his brother stalks right through him, he suddenly gets it.

He's dead.

He's... he's dead and it's been long enough that-

The oppressively silent argument makes his insides twist to watch, Xichen's aching pleading and Huaisang's icy venom -the source of the chill in the room, he is now sure- making him feel like he might drop to his knees to vomit.

Never... Never has he seen Huaisang like this, thin and pale, practically gaunt, spitting words like needles held behind his tongue until they're at the perfect angle to wound.

He was wrong.

He has to be.

That can't be his brother.

That can't be his brother.

He stares numbly at the guan and ribbon in his hair, at the clothing that more resembles his own than that Huaisang had always preferred, and he wonders...

He wonders...

His health problems have been increasing exponentially since the war had begun, but especially since what had happened in the throne room of the Nightless City. He knows he doesn't have much more than a decade at the absolute most before he will completely lose himself to Baxia.

Had his health been worse than he'd believed? Had Huaisang become like this as a result of having the sect dumped on him before he was ready?

Or... worse... had... had he made his brother this way, the saber spirit driving him to similarly drive Huaisang too hard to be prepared?

He doesn't know.

He doesn't know-

He snaps awake.

He is back in his room again, but now it's... right.

It's the way it should be.

It's the room he fell asleep in the night before, rather than the aged, musty, almost grave-like room he'd been in. He can feel Baxia thrumming in her stand, just where he always puts her at night.

He remembers having woken up from that same nightmare before.

Once... three times... maybe more.

Always that same chill, that same argument he can't hear, that same-

He sits up and rakes a hand through his hair to ground himself and fight back a wave of nausea as it all floods back to him.

"Zongzhu?"

He jolts in surprise, then blinks at the servant who was standing just inside the door.

"Yes?" he asks, then has to clear the roughness out of his throat with a cough before adding "What is it?"

"Lan-zongzhu has arrived for your lunch meeting, as scheduled."

"Lunch?" He looks over at the window and sees that the sun is indeed high. How long had he been stuck in that nightmare, to have slept this late?

Rubbing his eyes, then his temples, he pulls back the bedding and gets up. "Please give him my apologies for not being ready. I will be there shortly."

"Of course," the man says as he bows, then leaves.

He makes short work of getting ready, not bothering to go with the elaborate sect leader braids since this is mostly an informal meeting.

As he heads towards the hall he usually recieves his- oldest friend in, he can't help himself from looking through one of the aviary windows.

His brother, as usual, is there, this time tending to an injury on one of their small falcons under the curious observation of its handler.

Huaisang laughs at something the handler says, and he feels his heart clench as his mind involuntarily overlays that happy image with the memory of the Huaisang with his metaphorical claws and fangs bared.

He keeps walking.

"There you are!" Xichen says, smile warm and eyes sparkling with amusement as he enters the hall. "I hear you actually slept in for once in your life."

He suddenly sees those eyes go dim, that smile vanish- then he shakes his head slightly and suddenly Xichen is himself again. "I suppose it had to happen eventually," he says as he sits down. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"I hope it wasn't an imposition, but I discussed a little bit of your condition with Shufu. Not the matter of the saber spirits," Xichen quickly clarifies. "Just that you'd been having some troubles with qi regulation as a result of all the fighting. He agrees with me that we might be able to ease the worst of it with spiritual music."

He frowns. He has never been a fan of "borrowing" from other sects, and if this is something that would have to be done on a repeated basis, then he would be the one imposing.

Then the image of the Huaisang from his nightmare flickers through his mind again. If spiritual music really could help-

"Mingjue-xiong?"

He shudders, then swallows. "Sorry. Would you mind telling me more about it?"

[nickelwick]

I am very interested

Doomed siblings reversible keychain anyone? 👀🧡

[penissuperfluous]

You all disappoint me. Not one (1) drawing of a personified tumblr mourning the lifeless corpse of 4chan? Not ome? They were our rivals you sick fucks. Nary a whiff of 1 (one) fix-it AU? Im going to hibernate now..youve pirssed me off

[tawnysoup]

Finally now that the comic is fully public on comicfury, I get to share it with all of you here, too <3

If you enjoyed, please consider supporting by buying a PDF of the comic on itch.io: https://tawnysoup.itch.io/home-in-the-woods

[just-spacetrash]

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

[simpleviera]

We are so back, baby.

My Guiding Star, Chapter 8: At Duty’s End

Read the new chapter now and then bug me to not take such a long hiatus next time. 😅

[nouverx]

Arcane season 2 ending made me too sad so yk what, everything is fine actually, Viktor is now a teacher at the Academy and he mentors young Zaunite students. That's how I choose to cope.

[stars-and-branches]

Chronic pain pisses me off cause I'm not even incapacitated for like a cool or badass reason instead my body is throwing the world's biggest temper tantrum because it's raining outside

[lupusbaby]

Being chronically ill is like

“It’s fine”

“It’s fine”

“It’s fine”

*complete mental breakdown because you can’t do this anymore*

“It’s fine”

[neostellarjpg]

i like ralsei hes so regular and nothings going on with him

[opalsiren]

'being disabled is a full-time job' actually with most full-time jobs you get evenings and weekends off, plus holiday time and potentially other benefits like healthcare and dental. we don't get to clock off from being disabled nor do we reap any benefits, material, social, or otherwise. hope this helps