#man there is a lot of dead here

[chocol4tte]

Have I told you guys about a certain wangxian au that was kind of dark?

Where in a certain universe, everything is wrong, WWX did survived the siege with terrible wounds and hid A-Yuan in a tree, unaware that the seal he applied to him fell off and he saw him tumbling towards the cave where his gege works... and follows him.

WWX is dying, he is delirious and weak from blood loss, he hid however he could in a corner invisible to the naked eye and just see how A-yuan is crying while walking towards him. As much as WWX enters into a panic as he sees his son A-Yuan with him, he can't move anymore, there is no strenght in his bones to move a muscle no matter how much he wants to send A-Yuan away.

A-Yuan tries to clean some of WWX's blood from his face with his dirty clothes and just, nestles with the man. WWX dies with a lighter heart by not being completly alone in his last moments.

However, A-Yuan becomes sicker than in canon and just a few hours by resting with WWX's corpse, he develops a fever and just dreams. A-Yuan succumbs to his fever, forever resting with WWX.

Days later, after WWX's cave was robbed of his scrolls and spells, LWJ with fresh wounds from the disciplinary whip, is looking for something... someone, anything! Something that gives him hope. Alas, when he plans to leave the cave, there he sees them, WWX and A-Yuan. LWJ is destroyed by the sight of their corpses, so peacefully resting, he sobs uncontrolably, without holding himself back. How could he? His soulmate, his equal, and the inocent child that brought a small spark of joy in them were no longer in this realm.

He doesn't notice how long he is crying his heart out, yet he somehow gathered enough force to carry both corpses for a proper burial, after that he would play the guqin and make sure that their souls are well rested... and then... and then he would continue living in grief.

LWJ takes them both on his arms and walks, he doesn't have enough energy to fly with Bichen, and with a heavy infection on his back, he just walks. He tumbles and almost falls to the ground constantly, forgoten is his image of a pristine cultivator, he is but a man who feels as if the world already ended and there was almsot nothing else to be there for.

He manages to find another cave, hopefully far away from the Burial Mounds, and leaves WWX and A-Yuan resting together... just when he tries to get up again but he can't, he have exhausted himself to the point of his body refusing to move. He knows he needs to bury them, let them rest and let their souls enter the reincarnation cycle as soon as possible, he knows he has to do this, and yet, he can't move an inch. LWJ closes his eyes just for a brief moment and collapses.

By the time he wakes up, he is disoriented, thirsty, hungry, and with a fever. LWJ glanced at WWX and A-Yuan to his horror, the bodies had began the stage of decomposition. He tries to reach for WWX, for any of the two of them, but his body is so heavy... maybe. Just maybe. He thinks with a heavy heart, maybe he can rest with them, maybe is his time too. A small, selfish part of him just hopes that they are waiting for him.

With great challenges, LWJ manages to stand up and carry the bodies one by one, there in the cave, there is no day or night, no one sect to hunt WWX down for his demonic cultivation, no cultivators hunting little A-Yuan for being a Wen. A cave with no memory their tomb.

They entered to the core of the cave, and there, he sat with WWX in one side and A-Yuan in the other, his fever still making him dizzy and weak, his back burning with an infection that could kill any cultivator. LWJ just talks, or so he thinks he does.

He confesses his feelings for WWX, how, if offered another oportunity he would court WWX correctly, protect him from everyone, possibly adopt A-Yuan and teach him to be a righteous cultivator that exceeds them. If they reincarnate together, LWJ confessed, he would gladly be the ink of his brush, the ribbon that hold his hair, the shadow that accompanied him for the moment WWX would be born, anything, just to be with him just one more time.

Huanguanjun dies sitting with two other corpses, protecting them from the world.

That's it, until his body is found by the Jiang sect months later. They keep quiet of WWX's skeletonized body, however they do report finding LWJ's and a child skeleton to the Lan sect.

LWJ's body rests over a table, ready for a proper burial, LXC is heartbroken by his little brother's death, that he is unaware when LWJ's body rises up with black veins in his neck and walks away, searchign for A-Yuan and WWX's bodies.

I would continue this later, its 2 am and honestly didn't think I would go for a second part, let alone, I don't consider to make this a fic any time soon :,)

[rad-roche]

Bad Habits

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Life rolls on, not quite easily but peaceful in all its hardships. As the months unfold, Healer falls into a sense of general contentedness with both Plain Yogurt and the village at large, enough to assume that this routine will continue for the foreseeable future.

It ends suddenly, in the middle of the night.

One of Healer's most inconvenient traits is his tendency to sleep rather deeply, so to be awoken in the middle of the night is already jarring enough for him. Worse than that is the thing that had woken him: an unholy, piercing screech that twists and reverbarates around the Raisin Cliffs and shudders the very earth beneath him. The villagers are clamouring outside the tent, and though he can't make out what they are saying, the sound is pitchy with panic and alarm.

Concern spikes cold in Healer's chest, and still slightly disoriented from waking up, he fumbles for his staff and immediately tries to rush outside. In his haste, he doesn't properly anchor his staff as he begins to move, tripping over his own feet and tipping forward. He doesn't even think to brace for impact before he finds a sudden hand catching his arm, startling him a little.

"Woah, woah, careful, don't crack yourself!" Plain Yogurt's voice meets him as he helps Healer right himself. Wrapped up in his alarm, he hadn't heard him moving around before. Plain Yogurt leads Healer's free hand to his upper arm and he takes the silent offer, latching onto him for support. "Here, let's go see what all the commotion is about, hm?"

Plain Yogurt sounds weirdly nonchalant about everything, but Healer just appreciates that he seems to have a level head in the midst of all this. He nods, readjusting his grip on his staff, making sure it is properly anchored this time. "Yes, quickly."

Outside, the sound is deafening, shaking the very air. It's even worse to poor Healer's ears, attuned as they are to pick up the nuances of sound. The chill of the night wind seizes their robes immediately, tugging them left and right, and Healer shivers. To his side, Plain Yogurt huffs out an incredulous laugh, almost covered by the din.

Healer turns to ask him what prompted that, but is distracted by the voices of the other villagers, still alarmed but less panicked. "No, no, that definitely wasn't there yesterday evening. We would have noticed something that big!"

"But where did it come from?"

"I don't know! I've never seen anything like that before, you know that!"

His concern only growing, Healer finally turns to Plain Yogurt, bumping shoulders to make sure he has his attention. "What are they talking about? What's there?"

"A crimson moon." Plain Yogurt says simply.

Healer pauses, shaking his head slightly as if he heard him wrong, through the slow waning of that horrible screeching. "A crimson moon? That is a rather odd occurence, isn't it?"

"Mhm. And," an audible grin slips into Plain Yogurt's voice, alongside something Healer could almost mistake as eagerness, "a castle in the sky."

"In the sky?" Healer repeats in disbelief, turning his face skyward even though that does nothing to prove this castle's existence to him. "What is it doing above our village?"

"Who knows?" Plain Yogurt sighs, with a shrug Healer feels through his hold on his arm. "It's impressive, though. A grand castle, with turrets topped with wafflecone peaks. Its shadow will swallow this tiny village whole when daylight comes."

A new sound suddenly floods the air, coming down in a wave of buzzing as a stray spark of magic energy snags on the dough of Healer's cheek. Flinching slightly, Healer frowns in confusion as shouts break out of the villagers, kicking Healer's concern back up to the surface with a healthy dose of fear.

"WHAT ARE THOSE?!"

"They- they look like, uh, robots?"

"They're heading towards the village!"

"Definitely robots, made of wafflecone too." Plain Yogurt supplements before Healer has to ask, still impressively calm, if not vaguely excited. "They're a pretty piece of tech, but I think we should probably go back inside. They look like they're gearing up for an attack."

Healer straightens up, his grip on his staff tightening as his heart lurches worriedly. "An attack? But why–"

"EVERYONE, HIDE!" Black Raisin's voice rises stubbornly over the muddled noise. "I'll try and hold them off!"

Healer trusts Black Raisin's abilities with his whole heart, but dread still pools inside him as he lets go of Plain Yogurt, turning in the direction he heard her voice. "Black Raisin, wait, let me-!"

A hand catches his arm before he can take more than a few steps as Plain Yogurt cuts in. "You heard her, my dear. Like I said, we need to hide."

Healer turns his head back towards Plain Yogurt with a stern frown. "But it's dangerous for her to go completely alone–"

Plain Yogurt's voice takes on a firmer, almost demanding edge. "She'll be fine, and if she isn't, she'll need you safe and in one piece to be able to heal her. Come on, in."

Plain Yogurt tugs on Healer's arm, but Healer hesitates, resisting against the pull for a moment. The buzz only gets louder, the wind bringing down an acrid, sweet smell as he hears the other villagers rushing around them, hurrying into the tents.

There's another, more insistent tug on his arm, and this time, Healer sighs and follows it. He understands what Plain Yogurt means, and Black Raisin would likely say the same anyway. For now, he will trust her to stay safe, at least enough for him to be able to patch her up afterwards.

So life rolls on, now far more stressful. The Wafflebots continue to attack, and they only seem to multiply as the weeks wear on. Healer is needed near constantly when they attack, and in the brief periods of respite, he is busy with making sure everyone's health is maintained under these continually deteriorating conditions.

Plain Yogurt was often by his side before, but now Healer insists he stay by him at almost all times. Black Raisin hasn't asked for his dispatch in a while, and they have both been acting civil enough in front of him, but Healer knows better. He might not see, but he can still feel the aggravated tension that builds between those two whenever they are around each other, and in a time of crisis, he doesn't want to risk anyone getting distracted.

Besides, Plain Yogurt helps Healer with the patients. He does basic first aid for the less urgent injuries as they wait for Healer to work his magic, and he helps to regulate Healer's condition too, getting him food and drink even when he doesn't want it.

Healer can hear him humming somewhere behind him now, as Healer gently feels around a patient's cracks. His fingers find the stickiness of jam, and he carefully traces the edge of the crack to judge the severity.

The patient, Choco Raisin, hisses quietly in pain, and Healer aches with sympathy. "Just a moment longer," he assures softly, "I just wanted to get a better idea of your injury."

He lays a light hand over the area, and channels his magic into the wound. It spills, warm and soothing, into Choco Raisin's dough, clearing the jam on the surface as it passes. Then, Healer weaves it tenderly through her cracks, deftly sealing them closed.

"There." He smiles, pulling away from her. "How does it feel?"

Choco Raisin takes a moment, presumably testing her body based on the sound of shifting clothes, before replying, "As good as new, like always! Thanks, Healer."

"I'm happy to help. Remember, though, take it easy for the rest of the day. Miracle healing or not, your body needs rest to recover from the stress of the injury." Healer reminds her with a hint of warning to his tone, knowing that Choco Raisin never likes sitting still for long. Sure enough, she groans an agreement, and Healer chuckles as he reaches for where he set his staff down.

His hand wraps securely around it, and a gasp escapes him as a familiarly foreign energy, cool like the feeling of early morning light, dances frantically down his arm. It curls around his heart, before settling in the dip of the hollow of his throat, all in the span of a second or less.

There is a moment of silence, and Healer realises that Plain Yogurt has stopped humming. He isn't sure when that happened.

"Are you alright, Healer?" Choco Raisin asks, concerned. "You're not hurt too, are you?"

Healer takes in a deep breath as the new energy fades into the depths of his dough, grounding himself. He can feel his staff reacting to something, pulsing as if it is trying to reach out and catch more tendrils of whatever it just found.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Healer says, managing a little smile as he pulls himself up to his feet, using his staff as leverage. He hears Choco Raisin follow his lead. "It's been a long day. I might be more tired than I thought."

"If you say so. Take care of yourself too, okay?" Choco Raisin's voice lifts with lingering worry, and Healer, touched by the care as always, nods with a hum.

He hears Choco Raisin say goodbye to Plain Yogurt over his shoulder and leave the tent, the closing flap masking the sound of her retreating footsteps. Healer sighs, turning to face where he last heard Plain Yogurt, probably sat by one of the tent walls. "That was the last patient for now, right?"

"Looks like it." Plain Yogurt replies, curt and dismissive, sounding like he always does when he doesn't care about a conversation. "Hey, what happened just now? When you grabbed your staff?"

Abruptly, there is an unyielding urgency in his voice, contrasting sharply with his previous curtness. Healer assumes, much like Choco Raisin, it stems from concern, and decides it probably wouldn't hurt to tell his closest friend the truth.

"Ah, I'm not too sure myself." He admits lightheartedly, tapping towards Plain Yogurt's voice and settling down somewhere near him, setting his staff down over his lap. He runs his hand along its stalk gently, as if petting it. The pulsing seems to have stopped, for now. "I felt a strange foreign energy coming from my staff. It seems to be resonating with something, though I don't know what that could possibly be. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a surprise."

"Really?" Plain Yogurt's voice lifts like a song, as if intruiged, before dipping to tease, "That must mean you're something really special, huh?"

For some reason, those words embarrass Healer a little. He laughs, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I'm sure anyone with a strong affinity for magic would be able to resonate with whatever source is catching my staff's attention."

Plain Yogurt lets out a long, drawn hum, and then there is a shuffle of sudden movement. Healer feels their knees bump together, hears the scuffle of what must be Plain Yogurt's hands landing on either side of him, narrowly missing the length of his staff.

"You know," Plain Yogurt drawls, syllables curled with a smile, "I have a feeling something big is going to happen soon. Very soon."

Much like his random strange questions, this comment seemingly comes out of nowhere. Healer smiles back, playing along. "A good something or a bad something?"

"A good something. A very, very good something." Plain Yogurt pauses, then amends cheerfully, "For us, at least."

"Well, that's a relief." Healer turns his head towards the entrance of the tent, voice growing gentle. "After the hardship of the last few weeks, the village deserves something good happening for them."

Plain Yogurt clicks his tongue, a sharpened sound. He leans closer, close enough for his breath to ghost Healer's dough. That isn't really surprising, because he has quite the habit of leaning into Healer's space like this, but the angle of it is. His breath hits Healer's neck and collar rather than his cheeks, which suggests that his head is tilted down to look at something below Healer's chin rather than his face. Healer has no idea what he could be looking at, especially since he doubts his robes are a particularly interesting sight.

"No, no, not them." Plain Yogurt corrects, and there's that strange lilting tone of his again, the one Healer has never really managed to puzzle out. "Us. Just us."

Healer hesitates, confused by the apparent weight behind this distinction. "What do you mean?"

Plain Yogurt leans back, his breath receding as he shifts slightly, their knees no longer pressed together. "I don't know." He says, his grin loud. "It's just a feeling."

Once again, Healer gets the impression that Plain Yogurt knows much more than he is letting on. He genuinely considers pressing Plain Yogurt for information this time, but ultimately decides against it. Plain Yogurt said that whatever it is would happen soon, right? Healer will find out then. Besides, he also said it was meant to be a good thing, so maybe it would be nice to have a pleasant surprise waiting for him.

That night, PureVanilla Healer Cookie dreams that he is floating in a cold embrace.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie," a voice calls to him from nowhere and everywhere, a voice so similar to his own, "Pure Vanilla Cookie!"

That isn't Healer's name, but for some reason, he feels the urge to answer anyway. "Who's there?"

"There you are!" The voice coos, rippling through the nothingness. "You've kept me waiting for far too long, you know. Are you finally ready to face the Truth?"

"What?" Healer mutters, though alongside his confusion wells a traitorous dread, as if his body understands the implication of what is being said better than his mind.

"Open your eyes," the voice coaxes, "and confront the Truth you are so determined to hide from."

Healer realises, suddenly and anxiously, that the reassuring pressure of his bandages have vanished, leaving his bare face exposed. Fear bursts painful through his body, and his hands fly up to cover his closed eyes, pressing his palms into his eyelids in a mimicry of his bandages.

"No, you must confront the Truth." The voice insists, its tone relaxed and otherworldly but no less stubborn. "Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie."

"I- I can't!" Healer argues weakly, even though that really isn't his name, burying his face into his hands in an act of unspoken defiance. Nervousness prickles along his dough, making him queasy. "I'm sorry, I don't know why but I can't. It will be too much for me."

"Just once." The voice promises softly. "Just one proper look at its whole, ugly entirety and then you will never have to look at the Truth again."

Healer is quiet for a moment. The words affect him in two contrasting ways, both a comfort and a disturbance. The press of his hands against his eyes lifts slightly, less harsh in its rejection of the outside.

"Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie." The voice repeats and this time, past his fear and dread and uncertainty, Healer feels compelled to listen.

His hands slip from his face, and he cautiously squints his eyes open.

The world is a dark blur for a moment, not any different than the back of his own eyelids, before his eyes finally focus to the best of their ability. It is enough for Healer to realise that he is floating in a black void, with deep blue eyes surrounding him on all sides. They seem to glitter and glow like stardust as they stare at him, pinning him in place like a butterfly to a board.

Healer can only stare back, transfixed, as he sinks into velvety darkness.

When Healer wakes up, it is a slow, sluggish affair. Somewhere outside, he can hear the cawing of the raisin crows announce the daybreak, and it takes him just a moment too long of being conscious to realise the feeling of a hand in his hair.

Still weighted with dregs of sleep, he appreciates the feeling of fingers threading through his hair and the scratch of something against his scalp for a minute or two, before he finally has the presence of mind to wonder who the hand belongs to.

"Plain Yogurt?" He asks with a little yawn, because that's the only logical explanation. "What are you doing?"

The hand stills and pulls away. With his newfound space, Healer pushes himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his own face in the hopes that will wake him up faster.

"Nothing. You were just tossing and turning so I wanted to help you relax. You need all the rest you can get, since you're so busy all the time." Plain Yogurt explains easily, voice slightly hushed in the early morning. His tone becomes sweeter, softened with honey. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Somehow, it sounds like it is worded as a trick question. Healer doesn't know what the trick could possibly be though, and answers honestly, "I don't know. I don't remember dreaming of anything."

"Mm." The sound is flat, but Plain Yogurt's voice is lighthearted, close to teasing as he says, "That's okay. I'm sure you'll remember one of these days."

"What about you, then? Did you dream of anything?" Healer asks to carry on the conversation, though he reaches for his staff as he does. He needs to get up for the day; the Wafflebots attacks could happen at any moment, and there will inevitably be Cookies in need of his help.

When his fingers wrap around the stalk of his staff, there is no familiarly foreign shot of energy. For a single, bizarre moment, he thinks he almost misses it.

"Nothing much." Plain Yogurt replies languidly, his voice rising and spreading through the air as he gets to his feet. "Just a little doll in the palm of my hand."

[next]

[literally-noone83]

...

He has an addiction.

Nanami doesn't exactly know when this started. How it started. But that doesn't quite matter to him.

All that was significant and valuable for hum to know is that your stomach is the softest thing he's ever touched, and he loves it. So much.

He loves the roundness, the soft curves of your body, dragging his fingers over your skin. He adores every part of you but naturally — everytime — his palms find their way back to your tummy. Down to the pudge, the weight of your stomach, the place you've always tried to hide and flatter and tuck away, his slender fingers and warm expanse od his palm are slipping under whatever waist band or shirt you've masked it with, whispering "Don't hide, love, I just want to hold you", as he softly kneed at his favourite dough.

It's a bad habit, really. He will not only do it at home but when you're in public together. When you both are at the groceries, browsing an ailse of sauces, he's coming up to your side, equally invested but with a hand coming up to your hip and sliding over to your abdomen. At the bakery when he's enquiring about the freshness of the sourdough, his arms is wrapped around you inconspicuously, his fingers tips absentmindedly slipping under your waistband just to feel you. If your shirt ever rides at his actions, making it visible to others you pushing his hand away. The sudden actions always leaving him bemused. "What's wrong, love?"

"Will you stop doing that!" You give him a harsh whisper, a mild scold.

"I thought you enjoyed my affections." He says, amusement dancing in his schooled tone, watching your expression closely. You kept looking around wearily.

Sat on a bench in the park, snug at each other's side, this time Nanami made never effort to make it discrete — not that he ever truly thought about it — and caress your front the small buldge of your stomach created whenever you sat down. Especially in his favourite pencil skirt you had to wear for work, he can't help but want to touch. To feel softness as he speaks to you comfortably, almost like a comfort habit.

"I do!" You say firmly, "But if you keeping caressing my stomach like that, people will think I'm pregnant or something." A huff leaves you as you watch young families and couples walk by.

Nanami's eyes gleam, and the end of his lips curves softly at the mere idea. His hand you had pushed earlier to your lap slips over your tummy once more and he leans down to your ear, close enough to feel his breath tickle your skin. "What's so wrong about that, darling?" His voice lowers in a way he knows sends a shiver down your spine and he's right with the way he watches the tips of your ears go pink at the idea. Just to tease you further he plants a gentle kiss against your sensitive ear, eliciting a squeal from you and hes pulling away with a raspy chuckle.

You slap his chest that doesn't phase him, "You're awful!" But your words lack malice, instead he's smiling down at you and that rose blush that paints your cheeks.

...

Not proof read :DDD coming out of my cave the moment I have something really important due, how typical

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he comes across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt, and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh." Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmare, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[cadaverousdecay]

i don’t even like mosquitoes but it’s depressing as hell that you can’t make a post about them without the notes getting flooded with such intense vile hatred.

i’m sorry that it makes me a bit uncomfortable to hear strangers describe in detail the pleasure they take in killing and wishing for the eradication of an animal they don’t like. on my post about said animal. idc! i’m sick of it!

a post that mentions bugs isn’t an invitation for u to go all “kill it with fire!!11!!11” in the notes. you can keep that to yourself. make your own post. go suck off an exterminator or smth i don’t give a shit >_>

[kieranculkn]

PAUSE….. langdon being completely oblivious with how difficult it is for his wife to raise two kids under four “i’m a doctor” vs mel who is her sister’s sole caretaker

[storytellering]

Torn apart. Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by Sergio Cupido

[bombasticsalt]

Being a Shen Jiu hater means that no matter what you say about that man you'll never be his number one hater because it's mxtx herself like she really said trust this evil bastard will be dealt with every single time we get a description of him being tortured by Bingge it really fills me with intense glee that even if most of the fandom likes the guy mxtx does not and to make matters worse the guys body is possessed by a stranger and getting railed by the boy he hated for no reason and everybody likes the imposter in his body better than him

[lochallthedoors]

You seem to be coming from a pretty optimistic place, though, with Council Skies. I guess it’s uplifting in the right places, and it’s melancholy in the right places. I think it’s quite an honest record. I don’t like to make the [songs] too autobiographical. I certainly wouldn’t draw attention to the parts of songs that are about me and my life. “Dead to the World” is very autobiographical. So are “Think of a Number,” “Council Skies” and “Trying To Find a World That’s Been and Gone.” -- noel interview, spin.com, may 25, 2023

noel interview in first and last gifs: radio x, 8 june 2023

bonus, liam when asked about the song: "It's all about me it always was and is"

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[buglaur]

[fatedroses]

Chance encounters in Costa del Sol.

[james-p-sullivan]

okay so in french baguette means wand/rod and it’s not solely used for bread like in english

but even so seeing red call it his ice baguette makes me cry laugh

[kuroo-hitsuji]

The Dark Santa Mammon card... Unrealistic (/hj). I'm gonna be so real, as soon as I knew his ass wasn't possessed or cursed or something I would be eating that shit uP--

Mammon can be pushy. As a treat. On account of the whole being a huge sub literally 90% of the time thing shxhjsgdhzhx Very rarely Trying to be dominant gets you free Dom For The Day tickets in my book and Mammon has a surplus--

[chewyhanniebug]

there's SO much i want to do with this video but i just saw someone say harutaki kiss as a joke

and yeah they've absolutely done it "for the bit" before