#and a contemplation of memory

[fistfuloflightning]

When Ming Fan finally fought his way through the underbrush to where the Rift had appeared, it was already too late. Shizun and Luo Binghe stood at the edge of the yawning chasm, swords unsheathed and pointed at each other. He hadn’t thought much of it when Shen Qingqiu had flown past him so soon after the earthquake that had torn open the Rift, but he could now see there was something very wrong. Shen Qingqiu’s back was turned to Ming Fan and his face hidden, but he could see plainly the fear and confusion on Luo Binghe’s face. Along with the glowing, damning mark on his forehead. Something demonic.

Ming Fan gripped the foliage, forcing himself not to run out. Not yet. He’d end up dead or wishing he was. He had mocked Luo Binghe early in the Conference, yes, but he knew the younger boy had done nothing to merit this kind of punishment—!

In a matter of seconds, Xiu Ya had stabbed forward, Zheng Yang had shattered, and Luo Binghe had staggered back into the Rift.

Everything seemed to still.

Ming Fan sucked in an breath and darted out of the foliage—but it was too late. Luo Binghe’s arm vanished over the edge just as Ming Fan ran past their shizun. He lunged forward the last few feet, fingers clawing at Luo Binghe’s forearm just in time. Caught, held. The sudden weight had him crashing again against the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. The taste of charred earth mixed with that of fresh blood where he’d nearly bitten his tongue in half.

But that was inconsequential. Not when he could feel the weight at the end of his arm that told him he didn’t fail. Even when the only person he needed to acknowledge that fact was someone he couldn’t stand. No one deserves to die like this, Ming Fan thought viciously. Not even him.

Dangling below him, Luo Binghe’s eyes were wide with terror and confusion, at odds with the damning, demonic seal glowing on his forehead. But there was something like gratitude there as well, out of place and so painfully frail.

For a fragile second, it felt like they were breathing the same

“Shixiong—”

With a cry, he was wrenched from Ming Fan’s grip and into the Abyss below. Ming Fan’s cry was strangled in his throat.

He didn’t know how long he remained there, clenching the burned grass with white-knuckled fingers and straining his eyes to see through the acrid smoke that rose from the chasm for even the barest glimpse of Luo Binghe. But time moved on and the Rift sealed shut and when Ming Fan blinked and once more became aware of his surroundings, he realized he was not alone.

Shen Qingqiu loomed over him like a stone Buddha, face cold as jade. His spiritual sword was once more sheathed, his robes neat and not one hair out of place. As though he hadn’t had a hand in what had happened here.

“You… you killed him,” Ming Fan breathed, still unable to fully process what had just taken place. But that’s what it was, a death sentence fed to the hungry maw of the Endless Abyss.

Shen Qingqiu. ���He was a stain upon our sect.”

Ming Fan could feel the rage slowly rise. “He was a disciple of Qing Jing Peak. He was your disciple.” Acknowledging it was like vinegar on his tongue but a boy was dead because of him. He stared at Shen Qingqiu as if seeing him for the first time. Stripped of his elegance and his masks…

“He was a demon.” Shen Qingqiu sneered down at him. “There is no need to explain to you why he needed to be eradicated.”

Ming Fan tore burning eyes away from that frigid, impassive mask. He couldn’t bear looking at the man he had so long idolized. Instead he stared at the ground, in fear he would do or say something he could not undo. And beside his knee he saw slivers of metal.

The shards of Zheng Yang, tangled in the burned grass. Ming Fan’s vision blurred and his breath grew sharp and ragged, anger slamming into him full force. He wrapped his fingers around the pieces, the razor pain of their edges grounding him as the rest of his world unraveled like poorly woven cloth. His shizun had failed him.

And he had failed his shidi.

[estcaligo]

upd Sebek asked me to add Malleus

[emeraldmew]

The Chee are frustrating, aren't they?

To me they're frustrating in that I feel like they're almost missing something that would tilt them into being a better element of the story, but it's not quite there.

I really want to know how the Pemalites defined violence in their programming (it would give us insight into the Pemalites themselves, too).

Or the limits of their AI in general. If they work like real "AI" they'd probably have some limits to how creatively they can think about getting around their problems. I know Erek says the Pemalites created them to be their equals rather than as robot workers, but he also says the Pemalites were the real creative force and doesn't say but sort of implies that the Chee don't make more of themselves. The only Chee around are the few hundred that the Howlers didn't wipe out. They are machines. In the end they are limited in the ways they can problem solve and I can't help but wish we'd gotten a better idea of what these limits were.

Maybe a better look into the limits of how Chee think could make them less frustrating an element? Barring that, maybe we could have gotten more of a look into the nonviolent sabotage they managed (taking longer to fix a downed communications system than needed, nudging people away from going deeper into the Sharing when possible)?

Heck, I wish it explored how the Chee feel about dogs being carnivores! Wolves hunt. Dogs hunt. They preserved the Pemalites through the Earth animal that looked most like them but that animal was a predator. Rotating the Chee programming to figure out what's going on in there.

Erek's reaction to the violence he could do was good. I can see why he wouldn't want to do more. He also knows that the human and Hork-Bajir hosts died just as violently as their yeerks. He knows he's killed innocents in his ten seconds of reprogramming. He knows he could do that again. I'd have loved to have had that scene address Erek wondering if he could trust his judgement on when and how to kill.

Idk. The Chee continue to be important up through the endgame, so I wish they were better delved into. I don't have the right words to explain why they frustrate me so much.

[backjustforberena]

I just find it heartbreaking that Corlys is being handed the position, basically, of the second-most important person in the realm, a position higher than any he's ever attained, something he'd have bitten a hand off for at any other time... and he doesn't want it. He's not jumping at it - he's not asked for it, not wanted it, and he doesn't find any joy in it. He even wants to say no.

He's doing the job not for esteem, power, ambition, or greed. He's doing it for his wife. He's doing it to honour her and to honour the cause she gave her life to and it's really nothing more than that. How humbling.

He's just doing it for Rhaenys.

[heartepub]

haikyuu!! 🤝 svt — shitpost edition.

note. outing myself as a chronic gose watcher. do not take this seriously. instead, take @ylangelegy kae's hq x svt seriously. thank yewwwww

IWAIZUMI HAJIME 🤝 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL — arm wrestling kings

FUTAKUCHI KENJI 🤝 YOON JEONGHAN — loki-isms

SUGAWARA KOUSHI 🤝 HONG JISOO — gremlin or gentleman?

ENNOSHITA CHIKARA 🤝 WEN JUNHUI — sleepy eyes

NISHINOYA YUU 🤝 KWON SOONYOUNG — loud asf

KOZUME KENMA 🤝 JEON WONWOO — games + no sleep schedule

KITA SHINSUKE 🤝 LEE JIHOON — rice

TSUKISHIMA KEI 🤝 XU MINGHAO — "you're loud and it's tiring"

AZUMANE ASAHI 🤝 KIM MINGYU — scaredy-cat who is teased as old

BOKUTO KOUTAROU 🤝 LEE SEOKMIN — do NOT make him sulk

YAKU MORISUKE 🤝 BOO SEUNGKWAN — kicking

TENDOU SATORI 🤝 HANSOL VERNON CHWE — suddenly a kiwi

KUROO TETSUROU 🤝 LEE CHAN — their laugh is a try not to laugh challenge

[jyae23]

WIP WEDNESDAY 06/18/25

Massive thanks to @thewholelemon and @alexalexinii for today's tags, and everyone else who tagged me for the past few weeks! (I wasn't planning on a WW, but my blog is in dire need of Snowbaz content.)

I covered Baz's face because the hair and collar are the stars of this post.

I experimented with watercolors for the first time since... idk middle school? Things were going great until midway, I freaked out and broke every watercolor rule from the tutorial I was watching. And if that wasn't enough, I thought the exact-o-knife would fix my mistake.

Long story short, Baz has a gaping hole in his face, BUT I have many options to salvage this work and his hair. His hair is wall hanging worthy. I'd hang his hair. Well, I'd hang the rest of him on my wall too. Who wouldn't wanna hang a masterpiece and stare at it all day? Especially with a collar. And his chest. Merlin. Sorry...

Tags, plans, books, and me doing everything else except finishing my WIPS below!!!

COAR

All I can say it that it feels like I've won the lottery and that I AM working on it >:)

1997–2068

Wasn't planning on dropping words, but everyone reminded me about Simon's birthday and I remember writing something that involved his birthday months ago:

The sun casts light upon your headstone through the trees. I smile, brushing my fingers along the warm, etched letters of your name. “Happy Birthday, my love.”

Wow, what the fuck, Jyae? Okay, the next few paragraphs is a wittle sad, so be careful <3 It's just me plotting how to make both my life and Baz's absolutely miserable with 0 comfort. Feel free to skip. The most important part of this post was Baz's hair from above^^

I like the idea of Simon losing his memories all the way back to the beginning of eighth year. I like the idea of Simon forgetting all the moments he spent time with Baz as allies, friends, lovers, and husbands. I like the idea of Simon not recognizing Baz because he aged. I like the idea of Simon fighting to go back to Watford because that's the place he calls home. I like the idea of Simon desperately looking for Baz, despite Baz being right there in front of him, and Baz can't do anything about it.

I want Simon to believe he's the Chosen One again and repeat the events he went through his eighth year. His last year at Watford. His last year full stop. I want Simon to talk about "Baz" in front of the real and older Baz. How he's still missing and the thing with his mother and how he seduced Agatha. "Baz" comes back, and Simon recounts his experiences with him. Things like following him in the Catacombs again, starting a truce, and telling him that "Baz" is the prettiest person who has ever floated like a butterfly while fighting a dragon. We'll have moments where Simon gets to tell older Baz things Simon never got to say and stuff Baz would've never known at Watford.

And then something about Baz realizing that even though Simon lost his memories, Baz was still the center of Simon's life, and that he always loved Baz, even if he never again said it. Or something like that lol idk :D

Simon's Pride Cream Pie

Not sure what possessed me to write a few words underneath this post, in 3rd person too, but I think I'll actually make it into a full fic. Like, why not? I'm already a foot in.

See how we went from Simon dying to cream pies? Yeah, that was on purpose.

Books

Books I Finished This Month:

Wolfsong by TJ Klune

The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakavic

The Raven King by Nora Sakavic

Books I'm Currently Reading:

The King's Men by Nora Sakavic (97%)

Vicious by V. E. Schwab (43%)

Books I intend to read this month:

Captive Prince by C. S. Pacat I started it, but with how I said nothing about it , you can tell I haven't gotten that far lol BUT FOR TOXIC™️ PRIDE MONTH, I SHALL FINISH

I don't think I've devoured this many books at the same time EVER. If you tore me apart, I'd ooze nothing but words. If you put your ear against my head, you'll hear nothing but the clash of racquets and exy balls bouncing.

Thank you all who have stuck around as I scream into the void. While I may not be posting about them as much, I'm still thinking about them as always, seeing where they would fit in the current world I'm immersed in—Baz in an exy uniform or Simon as a wolf or Baz and Simon hate fucking—you get the idea. They're a constant in my life and that'll never change. Being able to tag you all is proof of that <3

@bazzydl @rimeswithpurple @lovelettersto-mars @toc-the-scrambled @bachusekart @bookishbroadwayandblind @gonzalesfreecs @catthehappy @facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @monbons @the-beard-of-edward-teach @roomwithanopenfire @sleepyphobzz @valeffelees

It's been so long, ik im missing someone...

[plant-cell-park]

what if i just died on the spot from this whole episode huh

[lakisfourouklas-blog]

My yester years

The songs we've heard together,

the lyrics we've read,

our times of madness,

the secrets we've shared,

the smiles we've exchanged,

all our confessions,

the great moments that many people have dreamed

about but only very few have lived,

these are the things that will always haunt me

and make me feel a little bit proud about

the riches of my yester years.

Lakis Fourouklas

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

brb trying not to cry over the way miles just lights up with warmth and affection when he’s talking about baby puppets

[stanford-photography]

Moscow Dawn 1999 By Jeff Stanford, 2024 Buy prints at: https://jeff-stanford.pixels.com/

[jilliancares]

i was rereading your fic "oh no i think im in love" (for the 400th time) and wade says something along the lines of videoing peter while they BOOMBAYAAAAA

would you ever include this in a future fic? or was it just for the sake of the concept? lol

i definitely would consider it!!! the inspiration and idea just need to come to me when the time is right asldkjfa

[clonedchaos]

𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰- 𝔇𝔞𝔶 12: ℭ𝔬𝔭𝔶

Summary:

Sometimes copies have errors.

Rating: G/PG

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Sometimes copies have mistakes. Your printer runs out of ink or the cartridge gets jammed. You don't get what you bargained for in the end, nor what you expected. Words barely float on the paper; sometimes you'll get blank sheets.

Toying with the very forces of nature on the brink of magic... It takes trial and error. Lots and lots of trial and error.

First, it was Bendy.

The cartoonish imp had been fed through the machine in reels and spat out as a lopsided abomination. It wasn't what Joey wanted. It'd scare off the kids; more importantly, the investors. Its smile was all wrong, one of its gloves was missing, it dripped ink everywhere— the list went on and on.

It was wrong. And that wasn't just Joey's opinion, it was Thomas's and Gent's as well. The only reasonable course of action was to toss it aside and try again at a later time...

The copy was sealed in the closets and locked rooms throughout the animation studio as plans to fix it were underway. When more drastic measures were applied, he had even resorted to putting it in a chained ice box. He wished he could forget the mistake; could you blame him? 

None of the copies had ever turned out right. They were full of imperfections or weren't quite akin to his vision of them. Years went by and those dreams were left to rot inside the machine itself.

He was left a bitter, lonely old man... That was until he concocted another plan, in a similar vein to his first but completely different in other aspects. Perhaps he could make his own family. Not quite a copy, but something artificial.

There were a few mistakes. What was to be expected? One day, he was successful. He was given his daughter, a shining light in his otherwise dreary world. She was perfect in his eyes, regardless of her creation. He named her Audrey.

He tried his best in raising her until it was his time to leave this world.

Years later, Audrey discovered the copy. Rather than turning a blind eye at his suffering, she accepted him. She didn't see a mistake-- she saw someone trying to navigate the situation he was thrust into. It would take a lot of work, but she’d get there.

Audrey did what Joey could not... She took care of him.

[horygory]

Evil Dead Rise (2023)

[melit0n]

.

[wanderrghost]

Decided to treat myself to a new altar cloth today only to get home and discover it's the exact same design as the one I've had since i started down my spiritual path. Guess I'm just meant to have this specific pattern forever 😅

[dykedaji]

a couple months ago i made an offhand comment along the lines of We should dig up malcolm mclaren and kill him and my mom was like defending him to me and Now we just had a screaming match about whether or not the optics (album covers) of a musician matter. killing myself