indecicivewaterbug

[indecicivewaterbug]

It really is unfortunate that shen yuan being an unreliable narrator often makes people misunderstand his character. "Shen Yuan was lazy and stole shen jiu's cultivation." In truth, Shen jiu's cultivation was extremely unstable and he was far behind all the other peak lords.

It was shen yuan who entered the caves right after unlocking the ooc function and cultivated in seclusion for several months.

In short:

[indecicivewaterbug]

No safety. No food. No aid. No water. No healthcare. No education. Is this what it means to live? Is this what world accept as life?

If a group of animals were trapped, starved, and cut off from the world like this, people would be outraged.

But because it's us—human beings—somehow, the world looks away.

These are unbearable days. Everything feels heavy. Each hour presses on my chest like I’m being suffocated.

My family needs urgent help.

Basic survival has become nearly impossible. Bread—just bread—now costs over $25 a day to make. We are not asking for luxury. We are begging for life.

Please, if you’re reading this: help. Reblog this post. Talk about us. Donate if you can. Even a small act can mean everything right now.

#crisis #humanrights #emergency #donate #pleasehelp #tumblrcommunity #survivestories #reblogtohelp #signalboost

[indecicivewaterbug]

Death will not free you of your duties, Jason Grace

[indecicivewaterbug]

#mbj was awake and prolly panicking

Shang Qinghua getting himself hyped at the prospect of doing romantic couple stuff with Mobei Jun, then gradually realizing that they actually already do most of the couple-y things he would want to do, then frantically thinking of something that can still be new, before shakily but determinedly lying down next to Mobei Jun the next time his king takes a nap in his bed.

Shang Qinghua wakes up a couple hours later, feeling like he's got a refrigerator strapped to his back. But as the refrigerator also has an arm slung around him and a nose buried in his hair, it's actually kind of nice.

[indecicivewaterbug]

[indecicivewaterbug]

Me and who 😔

[indecicivewaterbug]

I have a soft spot for ‘door mat’ characters

The ones who will allow themselves and all those around them be torn apart, because of guilt, or just plain naivety.

It’s just so tragic to me, yk?

Because to be able to not find it in yourself to stop your friend or confront them from doing something horrible, how is your own conscious affected? You have to feel bad, right? I mean, they’re hurting people, and you have the power to stop them from doing so.

But they don’t.

And doesn’t it always end in their demise? At the end of the day, doesn’t everyone (including the evil doer) only end up worse off?

[indecicivewaterbug]

I’m very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very very tired.

[indecicivewaterbug]

Words mean nothing in the face of glory

Work Text:

Julius Caesar wasn’t a good person. That’s was something everybody knew. You can’t make an empire as big as Caesar did without doing some horrible things. And when people who aren’t good get power they tend to change. As one of the closest people to him, Brutus could see the change.

The power had gone to his friend’s head. It was to be expected, but it worried some of the other lords. “He’ll run our world into the ground.” They said, quietly, and only when the man they spoke of’s back was turned. Why would they say it to his face? Brutus couldn’t pretend like he didn’t do the same. He sucked up to his emperor as much as he could, and scorned him behind his back.

And Caesar was none the wiser. After all, Brutus was his most loyal supporter. He would never do anything traitorous. Caesar’s most loyal servant. His servant.

Brutus’s fists clench at the thought. He despised it. He was thought of as highly as he was because of Caesar. He should be grateful. But he can’t bring himself to. He can’t. Because he knows that he could be strong on his own. He didn’t need Caesar.

Caesar was an idiot. He was ‘oh so smart’ but trusted ever bootlicker who complimented him. That would be the end of him. He was supposed to be smart. But he was too trusting. Another reason why he couldn’t stay.

Caesar didn’t suspect a thing when he was told to go to the meeting hall. He was surprised when he saw the people there but didn’t question it. It was almost funny. The confusion in his eyes when the blade first sunk into his chest. Same with the second, and the third. He only realized what was happening when his eyes landed on Brutus’s in the crowd. It was only then that the realization settled in his eyes.

Brutus looked away, he couldn’t bear to see the look on his face. If only it could’ve stayed like that. One of the men, Brutus didn’t see who, pushed him forward and the dagger was shoved into his hands. He stumbled in front of Caesar, fumbling the dagger.

There was a long pause, as the two men looked at each other. Caesar had blood leaking from his mouth, and his breath was shaky.

“Et tu, Brutus?” He whispers and Brutus’s grip on the dagger slips. He steps back. It so heartbroken, so betrayed, that suddenly, it almost seemed that it was just those two in the room. His breath suddenly came difficult.

A hand pushing him forward snaps him out of it and he looks back. The crowd is glaring at him. If he doesn’t do it, he’ll meet the same fate. They won’t leave anyone who could betray them. Brutus clenches his jaw and looks back at Caesar, his gaze hardening. Caesar notices this and goes limp, exhausted. Brutus plunges the knife into his chest. Caesar cries out.

The cheers from the other men make Brutus’s stomach churn and he handed the dagger off quickly. The next man stabbed him viciously, and finished him off. Brutus couldn’t listen anymore. He tried to leave but was stopped at the door.

“Stay,” the man said, “You of all people can’t afford to leave.” Brutus wanted to protest but nods. He walks over to the corner listening to the squelch and the cheers with each stab. Hes dead. Long dead. But the crowd is crazed, taking their anger out on the poor man’s corpse. When it was finally over Brutus left and didn’t look back, it was finally his turn. He’d finally be Great.