#why not. live a little

[coquelicoq]

[chengqing canon divergence, <2k]

There had been a very short period in between arriving in Lotus Pier and becoming confined to it. The plan had never been that Wen Qing would always stay in the compound under guard; even Jin Guangyao, in agreeing to let Jiang Cheng take her out of Jinlintai in return for his silence around the circumstances of her reappearance, had said that if they were married there would be no expectation for her to be, or appear to be, a prisoner. That was before the first close call with an assassin.

Any time she ventured out after that, which was infrequent, it was always with an armed guard of senior disciples. Because there had been more assassins, of course. If the first one failed, they had to try again. Jiang Cheng was matter-of-fact about it. He established safety protocols and schedules and drilled the disciples on them relentlessly. He equipped her with defensive and signal talismans he had prepared himself, meticulously, sometimes with his own blood. He seemed to take for granted that she would want to go to market, or take a boat down the river, or forage for herbs in the forests and marshy expanses of Yunmeng, and he prepared plans for each of these scenarios and many others besides.

But she found it difficult to leave the premises. And it wasn't because of the assassins, though they provided a convenient excuse. In an odd way, the first attempt, the one that had come closest to succeeding, had felt—exhilarating. She had expected to die in Jinlintai, and she had woken up, years later, alone and alive in a changed world. Now she wasn't alone, but the world was still so strange, and she felt dislocated in it, like there was a shadow space slightly to her left, always pulling at her to return to where she belonged. The sword had come from her right and had seemed to be guiding her to that shadow space, popping her back in the socket. She had felt the rightness of it for a single pure moment, and then, as if in response, something else surged through her, burning through her meridians and down her feet into the hard earth: the urge to stay.

For that one tiny instant between the sword appearing and Zidian yanking it away, she had made her peace with both living and dying.

So she wasn't afraid of assassins. If she died, she would be taken to wherever her family awaited her. If she didn't die, maybe she would experience that moment of total clarity again. Her respect for the time of the senior disciples kept her from testing the theory recklessly, but there was a part of her that was always curious.

No, death was not the problem. Or, more accurately: It was not her own death that was the problem.

***

In that first week at Lotus Pier, before the assassin, Jiang Cheng had shown her around, alternating between shyness and ease with an abruptness that would have been dizzying had she been present enough to feel the awkwardness. Automatically, dispassionately, she memorized all the routes and names he told her and exerted herself at intervals to react to his conversation, making appropriate noises and facial expressions. He took care to point out places he thought might interest her, and, she realized eventually, avoided saying anything whatsoever about what he had built himself versus what had survived the Wen.

After a few days of this, he couldn’t stay away from his work any longer. And perhaps he felt that he had started to wear out his welcome, even though he was the host. In any case, once he had taken her everywhere and introduced her to everyone, he showed her how the barriers had been adjusted to recognize her energy and then took himself back to his office. She was alone, with the run of the place.

She hadn’t known what to do with herself. She was something of a failed corpse—thawing out, the blood returning slowly. Everything felt either much too close, or too far away to be real. Or rather, it was far away that was real, and she was something else.

She tried meditating, sitting on the dock reserved for her use, but confronting the flow of her thoughts was almost excruciating. She got up and followed her feet, which took her on a direct route to the cramped workroom attached to the infirmary. Yes, there was something comforting about this place. All the little jars and packets, the mortar and pestle, the small pot with the heavy handle, the fan for the flames…She had seen similar rooms too many times in too many places for this scene to bring back any one particular memory. This was simply a way for the world to be, and for her to be in it.

She ran her fingers over the familiar tools, and her mind without her say-so began making an inventory. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she came down from a state of pure focus, a list of supplies written in her own hand. The Lotus Pier infirmary was understocked. She had a purse and she knew the way to the apothecary. She left without a second thought.

***

Away from the workroom, the world again took on its blurry contours, through which she glided as though passing through fog. She was so removed from herself that it didn’t occur to her until afterward how odd her walk through the market had been. She should have had to return greetings from every shopkeeper and stall-owner. She should have been asked to come look at hairpins and baskets and the latest root crop. She should have had treats pressed on her to take back and share with her husband. They had all been introduced to her as the new furen of Yunmeng Jiang and had all seen Jiang Cheng, their golden boy, treating her with respect and care. Even if they did not know her, they would have wanted to show their favor for him in their treatment of his wife.

But it was only later that Wen Qing realized she hadn’t returned a single greeting on that solitary walk, not because she ignored them, but because there weren’t any. Thinking back, most people had simply dropped their heads slightly and taken a step back—no words and not really any bows either.

She only became aware of the weather—hot, sunny—when she stepped into the apothecary’s shop, where it was dark and cool. She must have been backlit in the doorway, because the apothecary greeted her amicably and generically as guniang, and it was only when she came farther in that the heavy silence fell.

As her eyes adjusted, she saw an array of customers scattered along the long counters, attended by a couple of assistants, and the apothecary in the center, frozen in the posture of accepting payment from a little old granny. Wen Qing walked slowly to a free spot at the counter and placed her list on the polished surface, then carefully rotated it so that the characters would be right-side up to someone on the other side. The whisper of thin paper sliding against wood was the only sound in the room.

She turned her head to look at the apothecary, and he dropped his eyes and cleared his throat, taking the granny’s money and telling her to take care on the way. Then he walked, not toward Wen Qing, but toward another customer already being helped by an assistant. The other groups resumed their business and one by one trickled out, to be replaced by others who were greeted and assisted right away, as Wen Qing continued to stand alone in a bubble of eerie stillness.

She heard the word Wen and focused in on a conversation. The apothecary was refusing to take payment from a man with a prescription to treat phantom pain in the leg that had had to be amputated after he had been shot in the thigh by those Wen-dogs.

“We people of Lotus Pier have to stick together,” the apothecary was saying. “There aren’t as many of us as there used to be. My own honored father and mother, my wife and son, they would want you to have this.” He smiled gently as the man left, then his face fell into an unnatural rictus as he stood alone, no one to wait on—that is, no one worth noticing.

So that was how it was. She remembered the walk through the market now, and it made sense in retrospect. She wondered, in an academic sort of way, how she could leave this place with her dignity intact. Leave the inventory there, with some money, and act as though she had meant all along for the supplies to be delivered to her later?

A familiar change came over the room. She felt all the attention suddenly snap away, sucked into a point by the door behind her, where she knew without looking Jiang Cheng must now be standing.

She was still looking at the apothecary's face and saw how it changed when he saw Jiang-zongzhu. It fell out of its harshness and took on something tender, even protective, the brow loosening, the eyelids softening, the corners of the lips tucking back into the cheeks, the start of an indulgent smile. But in the next moment the eyes dropped, the chin falling slightly, in shame, she thought. In shame and in confusion, because this man loved Jiang-zongzhu but had been harsh to Jiang-furen for the sake of his lost and restless dead.

And perhaps defensiveness. Why should he feel ashamed to honor his dead? Why must Jiang-zongzhu put him in this position?

"Jiang-furen," Jiang Cheng said sharply, and even after only a week, she knew that meant he had read the tension and was preparing to be harsh to someone on her behalf. "Did you get what you needed here?"

She knew what that meant, too. If she said yes, he would understand that these people had been good to her. If she said no, he would understand the opposite and they would lose his favor. They had treated her like dirt, which she could not and would not deny. But they were just people, and they had already known suffering—and what did it matter that it wasn’t at her own personal hands?

She couldn't take either of the options he had presented her. "I'm tired," she said instead, and abruptly felt its truth. She turned and met his hard eyes. "Let's go home."

The tension left his face at once. Home, he said without opening his mouth. Home. She took a step toward him, then another, keeping her eyes on his, on those eyes that were looking at nothing but her. He looked at her like he would never look away.

***

That night, after dinner, when she sat down before the mirror in her room that was not a prison, she caught a glimpse, in her own reflection, of the complicated face of the apothecary in the moment of Jiang Cheng's arrival. “Yes,” she said, and then, taking forceful hold, rotated the jagged cliffs of her thoughts until they became a smooth, flat ground.

No one had locked her up here; she could leave at any time. But she knew that she would not.

She blew out the candles and went to sleep under the gaze of her lost and restless dead.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[beastwhimsy]

this is moonlit mane but her TRUE PACK NAME is FIERCE FANG and one day the wolves will howl for her and she'll run to them and they'll accept her into their pack just you wait and see <- fierce fang does not yet understand that she lives in aotearoa, which famously has absolutely zero wolves

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[thelostmoongazer]

gonna keep it real with you all i mainly got into cotl so i could have better context to read the TROD fic .......

The Rehabilitation Of Death AU belongs to @bamsara the comic scene is from chapter 16 lol

[reineydraws]

this is a scene from opla s2, black leg gazpacho told me himself!!!

src by @op-trash-blog-of-hell

[krussyarts]

Family

[tartppola]

awakening

[oracleeater]

To my fellow queers, in case you’ve lost sight of things a little bit like I had, I want you to watch this

This is why we create, this is why we don’t hide even in the face of great adversity. Our stories are beautiful, and moving, and remember how much it means to people. I love being queer, I love being a lesbian, I love being trans, I love us. I love our joy, our stories, our hearts. I love the way we love.

Don’t loose sight of that, in all the discourse, in all the inter community fighting, don’t loose sight of The Reason™️. Remember how far we’ve come.

Look at where we are, look at where we started. Your love, your joy, your story, your visibility MATTERS. The art you create matters.

I love us, I love our love, and nothing will ever change that

Happy 10 years Korrasami 💕🏳️‍🌈

[lunarrfae]

stopping to take a selfie 🤳📸

progress shots below ⬇️

THIS ARC HAS BEEN DOING THINGS TO MY PSYCHE.

[myrkulitescourge]

the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.

[personwholoveschocolate]

day 5: relationship - family :3

have some game robotnik with human sage and vaguely game stone pdkdhehehe

also I just know their most important family values are goofing around and conquring the world

[persona-brainrot-real]

Sae Niijima is such a good character it drives me insane a little. She's not a mother nor a maternal or doting older sister but instead a twenty four year old who was thrown into a position of responsibility that she never asked for. She loves Makoto just as much as she resents her and its so apparent every time they talk up until November. "Are you studying?" (I want you to do well) (I need you to get a job and stop making my life harder) "I'll use any method necessary to get this promotion" (Life will be easier for us) (So stop distracting me with your problems) "Focus on your future" (I know that you're capable) (I can't afford to waste my time on you, so stop wasting time on others)

Makoto is not only the sole reason she pushes as hard as she does for a promotion, for success, and the reason that she loses herself in her animosity over her fathers death, but also someone she can't stand for so long. Makoto was 14-15 when their father died. Sae was 21. As soon as she got the career she wanted and things started to look up, her stability was robbed from her and she was disillusioned with the system that her father had taught her to rely on and completely adhere to. How do you manage, the daughter of a cop, following his footsteps towards law enforcement, when you're suddenly reminded of how unfair it is? You can't quit, your little sister relies on you and she's so young and struggling just as badly with this grief. So you pick yourself up and you get moving again. You push harder, press further. You abandon your morals and your ethics because punishing criminals (guilty or not) is almost like punishing the man who killed your father.

And the whole time she's fighting for promotions, going for drinks with the SIU Director to make herself more favourable for promotions, trying to navigate being a woman in a competitive, suffocating, male-dominated field, falling behind despite doing so much where others are promoted for doing so little - all the while your little sister comes back from school and her biggest issues are so small compared to yours.

Persona 5 revolves so heavily around grief and loss and change and Sae embodies all of that so well, all of the sharp and unpleasant and jagged parts of grief.

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[nadjasnandor]

What We Do in the Shadows | 6.11. - "The Finale"