#luan saying that

[pippuns]

i unironically think lbh would get along with baozi baby lqg, as long as he does not monopolize shizun. and we all know that fighty baby prefers sj more anyways LMAOOO. brawling brothers 😤!

all those years doing shen yuan's job and taking care of the other disciples gives luo binghe unmatched baozi wrangling skills. truly, the protagonist's halo can defeat all.

[sailforvalinor]

Even more respect to Luan for when he found out that Helena is Bia’s sister and has been keeping it a secret that she’s alive for ten years, his response is “GIRL WHY? THIS IS RIDICULOUS??” and he sticks to his guns on that point

[chilldust]

What sort of things would Luan and Solros ever bicker over? Obviously not like serious arguing, but just little things they might teasingly go back and forth about with one another. Would these be more less the same for your anssw boys or not?

Hahaha, there's quite a few things they sometimes tease each other about affectionately, or just play fight with:

Food and cooking: Solros makes fun of Luan's horrible cooking skills, Luan makes fun of Solros' clumsiness and delicate palate (Solros is not picky, but he can't eat spicy food at all, while Luan is very used to spice.)

Luan teases Solros about his ticklishness. Solros teases Luan about his sleepiness/slothness in the mornings...

Sometimes Solros forgets words and then makes up a new word, or just lets out a bunch of weird sounds and then Luan mimics him in a "I find you adorable but what the heck does that even mean" -way. Example:

Solros: (Trying to tell Luan he wants to cuddle but doesn't want to use the word "cuddle" and then his brain farts) "Lu- me mew mew you-"

Luan: "You mew mew me? Yes, I know exactly what you mew mew me means!" and then keeps going with it.

These don't really apply to the FNAF mutant boys tho.

[ask-the-shiny-pokemons]

Jock Blue Lycanroc girls.

[ feat. Luan from @ask-eden ]

[dragonji]

well tunblr HATES that I posted that playlist so I shall be continuing my tags here in this post instead I suppose.

[thuvientamlinh]

Cô giáo nhận ra sai lầm trong quá khứ nhờ tu theo Chân Thiện Nhẫn - Nguyện Ước

Cô giáo nhận ra sai lầm trong quá khứ nhờ tu theo Chân Thiện Nhẫn là câu chuyện về cô Lê Thị Nhung, sinh năm 1960, sống tại Tp. Cần Thơ. Kính mời Quý vị lắng nghe chia sẻ của cô Nhung và xem thêm các câu chuyện khác tại https://nguyenuoc.net hoặc https://www.youtube.com/@NguyenUoc Trân trọng! ──────────────────────── ✿ Đăng ký kênh Nguyện Ước: https://youtube.com/c/nguyenuoc?sub_confirmation=1 ✿…

[withoutgrievance]

i miss working with power tools so much

[nyoomerr]

I hope you have a nice week of vacation!!!

For a prompt request perhaps something with a more monstrous or demonic Binghe? Potentially dealing with self hatred/insecurity or dysphoria because of this but with a shen Yuan being VERY into monstrous features actually.

(only if that strikes your fancy though. Have a good one either way!)

combining these two prompts together to present you both with some cursed dragon!binghe and a sqq that has very little issues with what that means for him, lmao.

---

Admittedly, when a disciple had burst into the lecture hall to very frantically inform Shen Qingqiu that something was wrong with Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu hadn’t thought much of it.

On Cang Qiong, ‘something wrong with Luo Binghe’ could be anything from Luo Binghe outright attacking Liu Qingge to something as small as Luo Binghe having disturbed the dirt beneath his feet as he walked. Luo Binghe’s very presence here was something that even occasionally was reported to Shen Qingqiu as ‘something wrong,’ because Shen Qingqiu still hadn’t quite managed to strike down the rule barring Luo Binghe from entry to the sect.

So Shen Qingqiu had sighed, given the interrupting disciple his most withering ‘don’t you know better than to barge in like that!’ glare, and exited the classroom with very little urgency. 

It was only on the walk back to the bamboo house that some of Shen Qingqiu’s irritation began to be replaced with concern. 

Disciples and hall masters from Qing Jing and Qian Cao alike were running about like chickens that had lost their heads - most of them looking as if they’re just running around to be a part of the action and gossip rather than to actually be useful, but running around nonetheless. The Qian Cao disciples in particular seem to be very dedicated to scouring the ground for what appear to be crystalized… feathers? Scales? Whatever they are, they glint a deep red in the sun despite looking near black in the shade.

Alarmingly, many of them seem to be quite bloody.

Shen Qingqiu picks up the pace a bit. Then, when he gets near enough the bamboo house that he can hear the commotion of fighting and the wretched sound of a beast in pain, he abandons his pride and starts running.

“Liu-Shidi!” Shen Qingqiu calls as he approaches, watching with horror as Liu Qingge stabs Cheng Luan through a window to poke at something in the bamboo house. “What on earth is going on?!”

Liu Qingge looks up at the sound of his name, and then promptly gets thrown across the clearing that the bamboo house sits in when a thick tail whips out of the window to knock into him.

Shen Qingqiu looks at Liu Qingge - already standing back up, although looking significantly more irritated - and then back at the bamboo house. He does some quick mental math. 

“...Binghe?” He calls tentatively. 

The awful noises from inside the bamboo house stop. The creature’s tail freezes where it had been slowly slithering back in through the window that it had whacked Liu Qingge through. 

“Oh, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu sighs, taking that as all the confirmation he needs. “What did you get yourself into this time?”

“Back off,” Liu Qingge grunts, sliding between Shen Qingqiu and the house. “If that’s really your disciple in there, he has even less sense than usual.”

“Nonsense,” Shen Qingqiu says. Hadn’t he clearly displayed a sense of shame just now, when Shen Qingqiu had caught him throwing Liu Qingge about? Actually, isn’t the fact that he attacked Liu Qingge in such a way proof in itself that it’s still his troublesome disciple in there?

“He sent three of your disciples to Qian Cao before I got here,” Liu Qingge says, and Shen Qingqiu winces.

Luo Binghe may not try very hard to maintain good relations with Shen Qingqiu’s fellow peak lords, but he does try to be civil with everyone on Qing Jing. 

Well. Everyone except Ming Fan, usually. Poor Ming Fan.

Still, Shen Qingqiu is quite convinced that the beast inside his house is Luo Binghe. He’d been away for the last week quelling a rebellion in the southern demon lands, fighting against a race of demons known for their particularly potent curses.

The mental math Shen Qingqiu had done adds up: it’s been nearly a full month since the last wife plot he’d had to fend off with his husband. Naturally, the beast inside his home must be a Luo Binghe that’s been cursed in some awful way that will require a truly heinous amount of freaky papapa!

Shen Qingqiu takes a determined step towards the bamboo house. 

Liu Qingge mirrors the step, remaining firmly in the away. 

“...Liu-Shidi, if you don’t mind,” Shen Qingqiu says, pointedly taking another step to try and get around him.

Liu Qingge mirrors the step once more. “He’s attacking indiscriminately,” he says, scowling. “That beast has hurt you enough as it is, no need to -”

Whatever Liu Qingge had been about to say, it’s cut off by the sound of Luo Binghe making another wretched noise, followed by something shattering inside the bamboo house, and then complete silence once more.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. Of all the casualties of this world’s nonsense, the sheer number of fine tea sets that he’s lost to plotlines deciding that something shattering would add some good drama is truly the worst!!

“Try to stay still for now, Binghe,” he calls over Liu Qingge’s shoulder. “This master will help you get untangled once I get in there.”

“Don’t let him out,” Liu Qingge says, blocking Shen Qingqiu’s way with Cheng Luan. 

Shen Qingqiu eyes him distrustfully. “Shidi was the one who locked him in my house?”

Liu Qingge sends a pointed glare around the clearing. The clearing which, in all fairness, is quite a bit messier than it usually is: whole swaths of bamboo have been trampled, and deep claw marks dig ugly rows in the ground everywhere Shen Qingqiu looks. The little garden that Luo Binghe has been tending recently is completely lost; Shen Qingqiu tuts as he thinks about how irritated Luo Binghe will be to have lost his favorite source of fresh vegetables. 

“He’s out of control,” Liu Qingge says. “Containing him in a small space was the most immediate method of getting your disciples out of danger.”

Shen Qingqiu sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his temples.

“Just to be clear,” he says, “Liu -Shidi heard reports of a beast on a violent rampage on Qing Jing, showed up and saw a creature wreaking havoc, and decided that the best course of action was to corral the beast into my house?”

“...” Liu Qingge says.

“Thanking Liu-Shidi for his assistance,” Shen Qingqiu says with very little real gratitude. “Now shoo; go scare the Qian Cao disciples off my peak if you’re not done playing guard dog. They’re trying to collect Binghe’s blood again, I think.”

Liu Qingge’s expression twists. If Shen Qingqiu feels disturbed watching little baby medics trying to scrape Luo Binghe’s blood up off the ground to research, Liu Qingge undoubtedly detests the idea of their righteous sect collecting that “dirty” blood even more.

Eventually, Liu Qingge huffs, sheathing Cheng Luan and turning away from Shen Qingqiu in one movement.

“Fine,” he grunts. “But when he lashes out at you, too -”

“He won’t,” Shen Qingqiu interrupts, and finally manages to push past Liu Qingge and into the bamboo house.

Although, once he’s inside, he realizes very quickly that there’s very little room for him to go from there. 

Luo Binghe’s current form takes up most of the entire main room of the bamboo house, even with his body curled up tight in one spot to try and avoid knocking into the walls. Every breath Luo Binghe takes seems to move the whole space for how powerful it feels, and Shen Qingqiu can barely make out the crushed remains of the table beneath one massive paw.

A western dragon, Shen Qingqiu thinks, taking in the sight with no small amount of awe. 

Of course, he makes sure to feel an appropriate amount of irritation towards Shang Qinghua about it too.

Still though, Luo Binghe as he is now is truly a sight to behold. A handsome and proud snout with giant curving fangs peeking out from his mouth sits below a pair of reptilian eyes that shine with the same pretty shade of red that Luo Binghe’s eyes normally do when he gets irritated. Large red horns sprout from the sides of his head and curve and twist in front of his forehead in an approximation of his demonic huadian. His whole body ripples in the light, covered in those beautiful crystalline scales - though Shen Qingqiu notes with some regret that he can quite clearly see the bloodied patches where some of those scales have been ripped out. 

He doesn’t seem to have wings, but Shen Qingqiu easily spots the long tail that had knocked into Liu Qingge - as Shen Qingqiu examines Luo Binghe, the tail starts to thump rhythmically against the ground, like a dog sheepishly wagging its tail. Ah, that’s really… really too cute!!

“Welcome back, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu greets. The rhythmic thumping of Luo Binghe’s tail gets a bit quicker. “Can you speak like this?”

Luo Binghe’s tail stills, and Shen Qingqiu instantly feels some regret at the loss. Still, he supposes that answers that, then.

“That’s fine,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Just - ah, make some sort of noise if I do anything that hurts. I’m just going to examine you real quick, alright?”

Slowly, Shen Qingqiu approaches, ducking under Luo Binghe’s massive head to reach his flank. This close, he can get a better idea of what hurt Luo Binghe.

…He almost wishes he hadn’t looked. The bloodied areas missing scales look very much like they’d been inflicted with a giant mouth rather than a sword glare.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu sighs. “One tail wag for ‘yes,’ two for ‘no’: did you rip some of these scales out yourself?”

Luo Binghe stubbornly keeps his tail perfectly still. Frustrated, Shen Qingqiu reaches out to rap his knuckles across an undamaged part of Luo Binghe’s flank in scolding. 

“Your healing abilities may be beyond anything a cultivator could imagine, but you can not heal a curse by trying to rip apart the cursed bits and hope they heal properly, you foolish disciple!”

Luo Binghe’s tail thumps twice against the ground defiantly. Shen Qingqiu can practically hear the retort: It worked the time with the Frost Bees, Shizun!

“The Frost Bees do not count,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs. “Nor does the time with the Crowned Pit Viper Clan: they used cursed objects, which spread the curse from the object to the wearer. Lopping off your arm worked because it stopped the spread from the bracelets, not because you were tearing off an affected piece and letting it heal back to an uncursed state.”

Luo Binghe already knows this, of course. Shen Qingqiu had scolded him quite enough at the times it had happened. Regardless of the fact that it worked, there are better ways to do these things!!

Shen Qingqiu sighs again, suddenly feeling very exhausted, and leans his weight on Luo Binghe’s flank. It’s very warm. Luo Binghe bends the long length of his neck to snuffle worriedly at Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu pets at his giant snout reassuringly. 

Slowly, he starts to feed Luo Binghe some of his qi, directing it to the spots that were damaged. They’ve already healed, of course - despite Luo Binghe’s continued reckless abandon for his own wellbeing, he has stopped trying to keep his injuries around for Shen Qingqiu to dote on after realizing just how much it distressed Shen Qingqiu - but Shen Qingqiu offers his healing qi all the same.

It gives him something to focus on, to distract him from just how much he does not want to have this conversation.

“This master… it isn’t a bother to help resolve any curses that may be inflicted upon you.”

That is - if it’s to help out Luo Binghe, it isn’t a bother to cure things in the way traditional to Proud Immortal Demon Way. Er, that is - 

Well, of course Shen Qingqiu is referring to papapa!

Luo Binghe is still for a moment, and then noses at Shen Qingqiu insistently. Shen Qingqiu huffs.

“Well, if you don’t like not being able to be a part of this conversation, maybe you shouldn’t have done anything foolish to prompt it!” He scolds. “If you’d just come to get me normally, instead of tearing at your scales and scaring the disciples and somehow getting Liu-Shidi involved -!”

Luo Binghe noses at him some more. 

“Yes, yes, it’s fine, I sent him away. Honestly, though, I don’t know why you didn’t just come get me! We could have had this all sorted by now, no Liu-Shidi needed to begin with!”

Luo Binghe makes a pathetic noise, shoving his snout into Shen Qingqiu hard enough it knocks the breath out of him.

“Aiya, I get it, I get it, no mentioning other people when we’re about to -” Shen Qingqiu breaks off, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

Luo Binghe does not stop his ugly sounding whines. Finally, Shen Qingqiu is forced to realize that Luo Binghe’s concerns may be different than he’d been assuming.

“...Is there a reason you didn’t come get me, then? Outside of your pride?” 

Luo Binghe only stares at Shen Qingqiu unblinkingly. If Shen Qingqiu were to assign a human emotion to the reptilian face, he’d say it was one of disbelief. 

Slowly, Luo Binghe looks down at his massive paws, and the deadly claws on the ends of them. Shen Qingqiu notes with interest that the shape of them is more like a cat’s than a lizard’s, and he wonders idly if the claws extend and retract in the same way that a cat’s does. How much force would he have to use to push Luo Binghe’s claws into their extended state? Are his toes webbed like a cat’s, as well?

Then Shen Qingqiu blinks, remembering that he was trying to have a cross-species conversation here, not that this input from Luo Binghe makes any sense in the current conversation.

“The house is already a mess,” Shen Qingqiu dismisses. “The bed will surely not be any more damaged by your claws now than it already has been.”

Luo Binghe blinks slowly at Shen Qingqiu; one - two pairs of eyelids! Fascinating! Then he turns once more, this dipping his head to look down and back at -

Ah. Belatedly, Shen Qingqiu understands, and then feels a rush of embarrassment at the fact that he had to be directed to look at Luo Binghe’s transformed heavenly pillar - pillars? There’s two of them down there?!! - to get it at all. Right. Of course Luo Binghe would assume that dual cultivation may not be an option in this form. 

…For being the former protagonist of a stallion novel, Luo Binghe is really, painfully vanilla at times! 

Shen Qingqiu coughs, his face warming.

“That - that’s also not an issue. For me.”

There’s a twitch at the bottom half of Luo Binghe’s body. 

…There really are two of them down there, ah!!

Shen Qingqiu flushes darker.

“It’s really no problem,” he says again. “It’s this master’s job to help when you need it. And -”

Shen Qingqiu cuts off, clears his throat, then clears it again.

“Well,” he eventually says. “Binghe was gone a long time.”

Slowly, Luo Binghe’s tail starts to wag again. 

“...It was far longer than three days,” Shen Qingqiu says, speaking mostly to the ground. “So, mathematically, it makes sense if perhaps what is done tonight is done in ‘double’ than usual, to make up for double the time -”

Gingerly, Luo Binghe catches the back of Shen Qingqiu’s robes between his teeth, picks up up, and carries him back to the bedroom.

[asukaskerian]

#1 N°1 Eternal War God

Feast your eyes on the most badass cosplay you have ever seen! The font of manliness, the peerless master, the only rival Bing-ge will ever have...!!!

liuqingge_1.png ; liuqingge_2.png ; liuqingge_3.png

#2 N°1 Eternal War God

Perfect replica of Cheng Luan, I pumped iron for six months for the all-natural chest muscles hahaha, and there's even a little sword charm matching little sister Mingyan's for the gege appeal! This cosplay will be debuted in full during the next great Shanghai convention, come and get your photos after the contest! 

#3 Littlest Cutest YingYingYing

Awww the little charm is so adorable!!!! Secret brocon Liu-gege~¤* 

#4 Cang Qiong Mountain Stair-Cleaning Manager

The all natural chest is also cute >:3c

#5 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

... Is that a repurposed Japanese kimono? Are you honestly saying that covering the sober, dignified, strong-and-silent Liu Qingge's body with fancy belts and embroidery to break up the outline of *the wrong garment entirely* and distracting the viewer via slutting it up is good cosplay?

My apologies, I have unfairly maligned you -- it's a YUKATA. For those who don't know the difference, it is exactly that of silk versus cheap cotton. 

Just like the difference between an actual effort-grown chest and one shaped with badly blended makeup. There are still fingerprints in the hollow by your left lower ribs. Tssk.

#6 grass your mother and fuck your horse

Everyone pack it up, the quality check expert has shown up to close the thread 

#7 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

#6, I have no issue with the cosplay itself but don't present it as the best and manliest when you can't even be bothered to source a local hanfu. The cosplay contest judges will laugh him out of the lineup. 

By the way, regarding the charm... Tyrian does not mean *green*. You might assume this is Airplane's lackadaisical approach to continuity but out of seven color references to Liu Mingyan's sword charm, six were synonyms for purple and amethyst and other lazy bullshit, and the seventh was a reference to her veil, which is, let's consult the database... lavender!

#8 N°1 Eternal War God

Someone looked at my abs reeeeeal close there... Jealous??

You keep going about quality control like we could actually source authentic materials, you remember we're in real life? Who cares if it's not real so long as it gives the right feel? Spoken as someone who's never gotten off his gamer chair and can only piss on the efforts of others, do better if you can

#9 The People's Daily Salute To The Heavens

/eating popcorn by the bucket

(things are heating up in the war god fandom!!!!!)

#10 Peerless Cucumber (Expert)

You know what, I think I will. See you at the contest.

#11 The People's Daily Salute To The Heavens

:O GASP

#12 Littlest Cutest YingYingYing

#11 ditto, :O GASP

#12 Little Sister Connoisseur

#11 #12 ditto ditto, :O GASPGASP

#13 grass your mother and fuck your horse

Yeah ok i'll also give it a gasp.

[ryin-silverfish]

I know, I know. LMK is kinda its own fantasy setting at this point, not everything has to be mythos-accurate, yadda yadda yadda.

However, I won't be me if I don't take the chance to ramble and nitpick anyways.

Basically: What do I mean when I say "Chaos doesn't work that way in traditional Chinese cosmology", in regards to LMK S5?

When people think of Chaos in the pop culture sense, it tends to be this destructive, corrosive force of entrophy, or a maelstrom of changes and aimless activities.

Even when the Chaos/Order divide doesn't get simplified into Evil/Good, Chaos is still painted as the antithesis of Order, and the two forces are often engaged in an antagonistic, dualistic conflict.

The way the primodial chaos is described in LMK very much fits that mold. It is something Nvwa has to create the Pillar of Heaven to protect humanity from, its magic is dark and ominous-looking, and the villain of the season is obsessed with it.

Yet Chaos——Hundun, when it isn't this cute little guy in the Book of Mountains and Seas:

or the victim of two gods' failed cosmetics surgery in Zhuangzi, is simply the undifferentiated, pre-creation state of the world, before it separates into Yin and Yang and the Five Phases.

In fact, Chaos in early Daoism and later, internal alchemy is something one desires to return to, because with the division of Chaos into Yin and Yang and the subsequent formation of the world also comes life and death, suffering and disorder.

For early Daoists, they yearned to return to that primitive, undivided state, which was viewed as a golden age, on an individual and societal level. For practitioners of internal alchemy, it was a lot more personal: by returning oneself to that primodial, Pre-Heaven stage through the blending of one's Spiritual Mind and Vital Force, one can attain immortality.

In fact, the word for the sort of disorder and mayhem people imagine when they heard "Chaos" is not Hundun, but Luan in early Chinese sources.

Both early Daoists and Confucians used the word Luan in their writings, but had significantly different take on what caused it.

To early Daoists, Luan was the result of people imposing their arbitary moral standards and civilization onto the natural, undifferentiated state of the world, a.k.a. what the Confucians and their idealized sage kings had done.

By introducing order, they caused division in the undivided, and from such divisions comes disorder. After all, if you had to educate people on right and wrong and exhort them to do good, then the world you were living in was already an immoral one.

(That's what the fable of the failed cosmetics surgery in Zhuangzi means...probably. Where two sea gods try to artificially create the seven orifices for the faceless Central Lord Chaos to repay his favor, and end up killing him in the process.)

The early Confucians also shared the same yearning to return to the golden age of the ancients, but their idea of the golden age wasn't the sea of undifferentiated, primodial unity.

Instead, it's the reign of the virtuous sage kings. Luan was the result of a breakdown of the order they established, as people lost respect for propriety and hierarchy of relations and began to behave immorally.

Their most explicit mention of Hundun was in Zuo Zhuan, where it was one of the Four Perils, all of which were immoral offsprings of ancient kings who were exiled by Sage King Shun. It very much fits into the narrative of "triumph of the righteous ruler over rebellious vassals", civilization over disorder.

However, the Confucian Hundun was no actual, primodial force of chaos, merely a historicized personification of disorderly, wrongful *human* conducts. In return, order isn't the cosmological, capital "O" Order either, but a moral and societal one.

Anyways, that's why the Order/Chaos conflict doesn't map neatly onto ancient Chinese cosmology: to have an Order/Chaos conflict implies there is a division, when Hundun is actually the lack of any sort of division.

Neither is Hundun a cosmological force of destructive changes and entrophy. If anything, it's more like the state of nature, from which everything spawns and will ultimately return to.

A cosmic egg, a sea of warm primodial soup, instead of a maelstrom of destruction or a corrupting poison.

(TL;DR: reject Moorcock, embrace Zhuangzi. /lh)

[whumpsday]

Catharsis #3: Unboxed

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, whumpee turned whumper, defiant whumpee, violence, psychological whump

Whumpmas in July Day 9: Mind Games

i wanted to introduce each arc before continuing on with the present arc. i'll probably pop all over the place chronologically since that's how i write best!

here's 1's first day alive, though that wasn't his name at the time.

-

Cyrus opened his eyes for the very first time.

He was in a room in a house or apartment. It may have been his first moment of conscious thought, but he was not a human, and he was certainly not a baby. He was still in his box, he realized: he climbed out of it, brushing himself off, smoothing out the wrinkles in the disappointingly plain clothes he came dressed in. There was a man there, taking a step back. Probably the one who had turned him on.

The first strong opinion he ever had was that he was unequivocally better than the nervous man standing in front of him.

Luan, his mind supplied. His… owner’s name was Luan. He didn’t like that word, owner. It felt incongruous. Wrong. He wasn’t something to be owned, Cyrus knew that for sure. If anything, he should be the one doing the owning.

At the same time, he knew exactly what he was: a Catharsis Therapy Bot™. An expensive object to be bought and sold. A thing to act as programmed and be beaten until its owner felt better.

Cyrus frowned. That couldn’t be right at all. The only thing that felt right about any of that was that he was expensive.

“Cyrus?” Luan asked, apprehension evident in every twitch of his body. He winced immediately, like the name itself had hurt him. Pathetic.

Oh, there was no way this sniveling loser was his owner.

He found that his face moved automatically, parts shifting to match his expression to his intent as he looked on disapprovingly. “I’m better than you. This isn’t right.”

Luan’s eyes went wide for only a moment before he scowled right back. “You don’t like it when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh? Too fucking bad. You’re mine this time.”

Cyrus tried to search for what Luan meant, but he came up empty. Luan hadn’t supplied him with information on their history. On his history with… the other Cyrus.

But he didn’t need it. Luan was making it obvious enough for him to know exactly what to do and say, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“So you were mine before. That makes sense, that’s where you belong.” Cyrus stepped forward and patted him on the cheek with a smirk.

Luan flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re in no place to tell me what to do.” Cyrus tried to poke him in the chest to make his point.

His arm did not move.

Again, he tried, and again, nothing. Experimentally, he lifted his arm without intent to touch Luan: no issue.

He wasn’t smirking anymore.

“Oh, I think I am.” Luan pushed him hard, sending him tumbling to the floor.

Cyrus fell just next to the box, the sensors inside his skin lighting up with pain wherever he made impact–it hurt. He was sturdy, he had to be, but heavy with metal that pinched his skin. He sucked in air he didn’t need by instinct, a useless humanlike reaction he immediately found annoying, just to tint it a little worse.

Something was bubbling up inside him, and he did not like it.

“You do not fucking touch me!” he screamed, his voice shrill out of the speaker down his throat as he pushed himself back to his feet. “How dare you!? You pathetic coward! You don’t deserve to own something– someone like me, let alone… push me! You are beneath me. You are fucking nothing. You–”

Luan’s fist cracked against his cheek. He didn’t go down this time, only stumbled, but it hurt worse than the fall. He didn’t think anything could hurt worse than that. He hadn’t felt anything before. His hands went to protect his aching cheek, the words almost knocked out of him with the shock of it, but he found his place again soon enough. “You–”

“Shut up.”

Cyrus’s volume dropped straight to zero, and he found that he no longer possessed the ability to raise it.

That thing bubbling up in him only intensified, and this time it came with a pathetic urge to back away and submit. Obviously, something he would never indulge.

He glared at Luan with what he hoped was enough pointed hate to make himself clear without words.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore!” Luan hissed, rubbing his knuckles. “You’re not in charge this time! You’re the one who has to listen to what I say! You’re the one who has to take it!”

He pushed Cyrus again, harder. He fell like a stone, tripping over his box this time. He was almost glad his voice was cut, because otherwise, he would have cried out, another annoying reflex programmed to make him seem more human. Weaker, more pitiful. It was infuriating.

Water began leaking from his eyes, blurring his lenses. No, no, this wasn’t who he was. He was supposed to be the powerful one.

Luan stared at his own hands like an easily-impressed child. With every moment, Cyrus only hated him more.

He started to push himself up again, but all Luan had to say was “Stay down,” and Cyrus couldn’t do that anymore, either.

Luan grabbed him by the shirt collar. “And I don’t have to take your shit ever again. What do you have to say for yourself? Speak.”

Not only could Cyrus speak now, he couldn’t remain silent if he tried. “I hate you.”

Luan laughed, dry and joyless. “Good. Feeling’s mutual.” He let go. “You know what you’re for, right?”

“I…” Of course he knew. “Something’s wrong.”

“This is the first time it’s ever been right!” Luan corrected. His hands were shaking. Water leaked from his eyes too, Cyrus realized.

“You’re scared of me,” he put together. “You’re scared of a robot you ordered! Ha! At least some part of you knows your place.”

“Shut up!” Just as he stole Cyrus’s voice away again, Luan landed a kick in his abdomen. It was worse than the punch, a sharp sensation hitting him hard, and just like last time, he didn’t realize anything could be worse.

The terror bubbling up in him couldn’t be denied anymore. How much worse could it get? He’d only been alive for five minutes and it was already this bad.

“You know what?” Luan cut in. “This really is cathartic.”

taglist:

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event: @whumpmasinjuly

[sailforvalinor]

Luan found out that he and Pixie were each other’s mortal enemy in the gaming world and was absolutely distraught, tried to tell Pixie, but then she kissed him and it was SO DANG CUTE (so so so much joy they were absolutely beaming, it was enough to bring a grown woman to tears) and so of course he couldn’t bring himself to tell her, and then of course she overhears him talking about it and is absolutely furious. It was a really silly argument, but the guy playing Luan plays Heartbroken Lover Boy so well I was DISTRAUGHT. And so is he, lol. (And Pixie is more mad about him lying about it than the actual gaming thing, especially because she has major trust issues—especially because she thinks he was lying about it since they first met and was just using her or something—so I guess it isn’t quite as blown out of proportion as it seems. But still very silly, lol.)

Pietro had finally worked up the courage to tell Daisy that he was her secret admirer, when she said that she’s worrying about the whole secret admirer thing too much and that she thinks that she’s better of single. So he obviously didn’t tell her. Yowch. This poor guy. And then Daisy finally figured out it was Pietro after some not-so-subtle prompting from her exasperated friends (which, by the way, I was right, quite literally everyone else knew before she did). She is in absolute shock, she now can’t figure out how to act around Pietro, it’s unclear how she feels about him at the moment, and he of course probably will never tell her anything now unless she does something. It’s chaos around here.

There’s this great scene after Luan tries to tell Pixie about the gamer thing and Pietro tries to tell Daisy about the secret admirer thing where the scene opens with both of them just sitting in the kitchen staring off into space in acute emotional distress that was unintentionally the funniest scene in this entire show

[geniousbh]

⸻ 𝒍𝒔𝒅𝒍𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒖́𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒐 𝒍𝒖𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒂 🎤🎹

(pardella, simón, matías, pipe, enzo) 𝅃 f.reader

obs.: não sei explicar o que foi isso aqui vidocas, sei que assisti um tiktok republicado de "você gosta de luan santana e eu vou te provar" e eu me peguei gostando de quase tudo mesmo! é o que dizem cada país tem o harry styles que merece🎉🥳 enfimmm!!! tenho alguns avisos antes de lerem: não foi dessa vez que eu escrevi o simón decente😁👌, e o enzo nessa birutice tá novinho, casa dos 20 (engual na foto)! no mais, espero que vocês gostem, é bem fofinho e funsies nada demais pois meu cérebro capenga tem sido capaz de produzir só isso mesmo!

tw.: fluff/smut, menção implícita e explícita de atividades sexuais🤓☝️ (o do matías é o mais pesadinho ok), linguagem chula (um tiquito só), homens doidinhos de amor, manipulação (adivinhem no de quem), beach sex, e não lembro de mais nada. mdni

𝒂𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂 - 𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒗𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒛

vai ser nossa cidade, nosso telefone / nosso endereço, nosso apartamento / sabe aquela igreja? tô aqui na frente / imaginando chuvas de arroz na gente

o rapaz nunca escondeu o interesse por você. o colegial inteiro tinha sido recebendo declarações escrachadas, no meio do pátio, nos intervalos e nas festinhas juninas quando agustin pedia licença pra usar o microfone do bingo e te pedir em namoro mais uma vez, o qual você negava com a mesma expressão envergonhada. e não porquê não gostava do argentino, e sim porque precisava focar em passar no vestibular e dar conta de todas as outras coisas. os comentários nas suas fotos no instagram elogiando horrores e as mensagens que as vezes trocavam quando se sentia pra baixo e incapaz e só ele conseguia te reafirmar sem dizer que era frescura, mexiam contigo. entretanto, depois do terceirão, você mudava de estado pra cursar sua faculdade dos sonhos e pardella ficava, se mantendo a fiel promessa de que um dia você veria sim que era ele; sempre tinha sido. "agustin? esquece, ele tem dona faz tempo", é o que os amigos falavam quando alguma cocotinha pedia mais informações sobre o garoto, "mas ele não namora ué", "é, mas ele é apaixonado numa ai". e ele até ficava com algumas gurias insistentes, o difícil era conseguir contato depois; já que as necessidades dele como homem eram mais difíceis de suprir seria injusto ele só se privar de fodas casuais, mas não fossem os hormônios, teria sido celibato total. até que você voltasse, e quando acontece... por deus, esse homem recebe a notícia saindo de um botequim com os colegas - que ainda são os mesmos do ensino médio - e sai voado, pega a moto e vai pro endereço que ele tem cravado na memória; por vezes tinha ido visitar sua mãe, e a mesma ficava bobinha de ouvir ele falar sobre ti, super apoia o relacionamento. quando chega, descabelado, com o coração na boca, toca a campainha e quase cai de joelhos quando você abre o portão. e você sorri, porque, era a visita que tava esperando, era o rosto que te faltava ver pra se sentir em casa mesmo. agustin tinha te mostrado um amor que ultrapassava muitas barreiras e te fizera ser mais confiante com o tempo. "te fiz esperar muito?", perguntava com um sorrisinho bobo e ele espelhava o gesto de forma sopradinha, "se for você, nenhuma espera é espera demais". e a partir daqui é coisa de cinema, começam a namorar, ele te leva nos dates que sempre sonhou em ter, inclusive os mais bobinhos - cinema, piquenique, arcade -, vão se conhecendo e ficando perdidamente apaixonados um no outro. a primeira vez de vocês é no quarto dele, e o after care é cheio de beijinhos, com ele selando seu rostinho e te deixando deitar no braço dele, olhando o teto. "vou casar contigo", ele sopra simples. "vai, é?", "vou, vai ser lá na igrejinha que você fez crisma". e de fato todas essas coisas acontecem. não só isso como, pardella é um homem com H, comprou casa, carro, te dá todo o conforto possível e diz que só te larga morrendo ou se o mundo acabar. 

𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒐́𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒆 - 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒊́

talvez você tenha deixado eu ir / pra ter o gosto de me ver aqui / fraco demais pra continuar / juntando forças pra poder falar / que eu volto

o relacionamento de vocês já virou conversa em roda de bar há tempos. parece até que vocês gostam de se machucar, simón e você só combinam debaixo dos lençóis. você é controladora e ele um espírito livre. em outras palavras, você é dependente emocional e ele pensa mais com o pinto do que com o cérebro. "você sabia meu jeito antes e mesmo assim quis", ele te diz pela sabe-se lá qual vez, discutindo contigo na calçada de casa, "sabia o quê? que você não ia me achar suficiente e em qualquer oportunidade ia sair flertando com alguma puta?", questionando brava antes de empurrar ele com força. quer saber? pra mim deu foi a última coisa que o hempe disse, te largando ali antes de entrar no carro e ir embora. nas primeiras semanas você ficava um caco, chorando pelos cantos, tendo que ir no banheiro da faculdade no meio das aulas quando o "fotos" do celular te mandava alguma memória com o moreno ordinário, enquanto ele tava na gandaia, ficando com várias, indo pra praia e o escambau. era só depois de dois meses que você se via superada. em contrapartida, é no segundo mês que a ficha cai pro rapaz, chegando de um bar totalmente transtornado porque uma das meninas que ele ficou tinha seu perfume; recebendo uma onda de memórias indesejáveis. e era incrível como uma coisa puxava a outra, primeiro o perfume, depois ele tropeçando na caixinha de presentinhos feitos a mão que ele tinha recebido de ti no primeiro ano de namoro - puxando pro colo e chorando igual criança quando achava o potinho com frases bonitas que 'cê tinha dado -, o facebook atualizando e perguntando se simón hempe ainda estava num relacionamento sério com (s/n s/s). porra, ele tinha certeza que não ligava mais, mas o que era aquilo? tentava tomar banho frio e nada, enchia a cara e piorava; a mente o atormentava com imagens suas, seu sorriso, sua voz, seus gemidos que deixavam ele sem pose enquanto te comia num papai-mamãe bem gostosinho que ele só sabia fazer contigo. nenhuma daquelas garotas se comparava, nenhuma era inteligente, nenhuma o conhecia, nenhuma entenderia que ele tinha momentos de introversão e de ficar sem conversar, embora gostasse de ficar junto sem fazer nada, nenhuma se daria tão bem com a família dele - que aliás o excomunga desde o dia do término -, nenhuma era você. e no ápice da coragem, ele aparecia na porta da faculdade, ainda sabendo todos os seus horários já que antes era acostumado a te buscar, esperando te ver e caminhando diretamente, sem vacilar. não tem tempo de oi, de abraço, nem nada, o hempe te puxa pra um beijo afastando todas as suas colegas, e o peito que tava acelerado antes se alivia quando você corresponde o carinho, segurando suas bochechas com ambas as mãos e se afastando breve. "eu não consigo mais. é tortura ficar sem você, eu tô ficando maluco", "você foi embora porque quis, simón...", sua voz sai branda embora o beijo tenha sido um baque e esteja com um chorinho entalado na garganta, "mas eu volto, se você quiser, e por favor queira, porque eu tô desesperado, e eu sei que eu fui um merda, mas eu preciso de você". e é óbvio que você aceita, e nesse mesmo dia vocês fazem um amorzinho bem lentinho no banco de trás do carro dele depois de terem parado numa rua sem saída, ambos cheios de saudade, prometendo mil e uma coisas que nunca vão ser cumpridas.

𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊́𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒕 - 𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆́𝒅𝒊𝒐

já são quatro da manhã / daqui a pouco liga o síndico / será que tem como a moça gritar baixinho? / sei que tá bom, mas as paredes tem ouvido / e era pra ser escondido

o narigudinho atentado sempre foi melhor amigo do seu irmão, desde que você se entende por gente, e era uma regra entre ambos "não pegar nenhum parente" o que matías seguia fielmente, mesmo te comendo com os olhos e trocando dms muito sugestivas contigo. isso é... até a tensão ficar demais e vocês acabarem fodendo numa festa que seu irmão tinha dado quando seus pais foram viajar, se atracando no closet do seu quartinho rosa; ele te prensando na parede e te segurando pela bunda enquanto olhava para baixo assistindo sua buceta o engolir. e o relacionamento de vocês era assim, ficar às escondidas, trocar nudes bem explícitos, se atiçar e ficar imaginando como seria quando tivessem as bolas pra poder enfrentar seu irmão mais velho e enfim poderem sair publicamente. acontece que, desde que o mais velho e matías tinham começado a faculdade estavam morando no mesmo prédio de dormitórios, dividindo um apartamento, tornando sua vida mais complicada ainda para ver o argentino. faziam malabarismos pra que você o visitasse sem que seu irmão soubesse, o que no quinto mês já estava ficando insustentável. "cara, porra, o quê é que cê anda fazendo? outra multa por ultrapassar limite de som?", seu irmão aparecia no quarto do recalt segurando o papel em mãos antes de jogar sobre a mesinha onde o computador do garoto ficava, "fora que mencionaram o nosso apartamento na reunião de condomínio, ent assim...", e o moreno sorria de canto, mordendo o lábio e se perdendo totalmente do que o roommate falava lembrando do exato motivo da mais nova advertência... você estava prensadinha contra a porta de correr da sacada, totalmente nua e com o quadril empinado enquanto matías estava agachado atrás de ti, segurando seus glúteos e afastando as bandinhas te lambendo da buceta até o cuzinho que piscava sem parar, com o rosto enfiado ali. já tinham trepado no sofá e você já tinha deixado ele foder sua boquinha na cozinha, então agora ele chuparia bem seus dois buraquinhos antes de escolher um deles para meter outra vez. já tinha perdido a conta de quantas vezes tinha te estapeado a bunda pedindo que gemesse baixo e não igual puta, mas você estava sensível e cheia de tesão, "não dá... eu fiquei com saudades... é tão bom, matí", soprando acabadinha contra o vidro e revirando os olhos quando o garoto enfiava o polegar na sua entradinha traseira, tirando e pondo de novos enquanto que com a outra mão dedava seu pontinho teso em círculos. "eu sei, princesinha, mas", e o interfone tocava fazendo ele cortar a frase no meio e te puxar com ele para ir atender. "matías, aqui é o wilson da portaria, olha, já é a quarta reclamação da noite, caso você não diminua o barulho eu vou ser obrigado a reportar pro sínd-", desligava antes de ouvir mais qualquer coisa. "ouviu, perrita? cê tá gemendo tanto que os vizinhos tão incomodados", ele falava te colocando apoiada de quatro na mesa de jantar, puxando seus fios pra trás só pra sussurrar no teu ouvido, "e isso porque eu ainda nem comi esse rabinho gostoso", ele se divertia com suas carinhas, tava tão burra que nem devia ligar. "tá me ouvindo, caralho? porra, recalt! tô falando sério, dá um jeito de pagar isso", o argentino despertava da lembrança e engolia seco soprando um tá, tá. 

𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒏̃𝒐 - 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒔

virei um louco. meio obcecado / pra te encontrar em algum lugar do mundo / e mesmo sem nunca ter te tocado / me pertencia, bem lá no fundo

você e pipe mantinham um relacionamento a distância. se conheceram num curso de inglês, durante a pandemia, e acabaram se tornando amigos. no começo eram só chamadas de vídeo e callzinhas pra trocar experiência e ficar falando na língua que tentavam ficar fluentes, mas depois de semanas os dois se viam completamente encantados, querendo conhecer mais e passar mais tempo juntos; apesar de serem completos opostos, um gostava de futebol, a outra gostava de filmes e livros, um preferia salgado, a outra doce, etc. felipe até mesmo tinha te mostrado para a mãe algumas vezes quando esta entrava no quarto para ver se ele estava bem ou pra perguntar algo. apesar disso, a vida continuava, tinham que estudar e trabalhar. quando se falavam sempre ressaltavam que estavam guardando dinheiro para poderem se ver num futuro breve e mesmo com toda a distância ele conseguia te fazer sentir amada e desejada. por vezes trocavam algumas fotos mais comprometedoras, mas ambos não eram tão abusados a ponto de engajar em nada sexual, ficava só nas entrelinhas, apesar de não serem santinhos. não tinham uma previsão de se encontrarem, você era estagiária ainda e ele tinha se formado fazia pouquíssimo tempo, então ver o otaño na porta do seu apartamento - segurando a mala numa mão e um buque de rosas na outra - tinha sido absolutamente chocante. ele era ainda mais lindo pessoalmente, o cabelo castanho claro sedoso e os olhos azuis, além do bigodinho ralo em cima da boca que se alargava num sorrisinho enquanto ele abria os braços. "oi", soprava com o sotaquezinho puxado, te recebendo em seguida num abraço que durava minutos com você dizendo várias coisas que ele não entendia a metade "caralho, não acredito, não acredito! pipe!", você apertava o rostinho dele nas mãos pequenas e se colocava na ponta dos pés pra beijar o namoradinho. mais tarde descobria que ele tinha combinado com seus pais e que ficaria no quarto de hóspedes; tudo arquitetado sem você saber. tinha feito todo um itinerário pra vocês irem pra praia e conhecer restaurantes novos; até alugar um carro tinha alugado. e pessoalmente era tão diferente, ele era tão maior e tão real, a voz também não tinha nenhuma interferência e o microfone não estourava quando ele gargalhava; e como era gostosa a risada dele... demorava pelo menos dois dias pra se soltarem mais um com o outro, mas quando acontecia se tornavam inseparáveis. iam pra praia de manhãzinha e ele te deixava passar protetor nele, sentindo seu toque e fazendo um carinho na sua cintura em troca. te ensinava várias palavras em espanhol e aprendia expressões importantes em português, principalmente pra economizar com os ambulantes. quando a noite caía estavam bem molinhos, mas sem qualquer vontade de deixar a praia ainda. "queria que esse momento agora durasse pra sempre", você dizia baixinho, deitada sobre o maior, se rastejando sobre ele e se encaixando sobre o colo do garoto, "quando você tiver que voltar, vai acabar levando um pedaço de mim", formava um beicinho. "creo que entiendo... pero, me llevo un pedacito y un pedacito te dejé a ti, hm?" ele percorria o seu quadril, te prendendo ali. e era tão natural quando puxavam a canga por cima dos corpos e ele afastava sua peça inferior para encaixar o membro tesinho, te sentindo rebolando e roçando as púbis juntinhas, gemendo um na boquinha do outro, fodendo na praia deserta, ouvindo as ondas quebrando na areia e soprando várias melosidades.

𝒆𝒏𝒛𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒄 - 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒂

me diz o que eu posso fazer se ela rouba a cena? / se até deitado no colo da loira, eu lembro da morena

"chega, para", enzo pedia, se afastando do beijo e tirando a mulher de cima do colo, se levantando e passando a mão pelos fios para ajeitar, um pouco desnorteado e nauseado, ao passo que procurava a camisa e o cinto que haviam sido tirados pela outra. "como assim? é a segunda vez que você faz isso, me chama pra sair, fala que vai me comer, e ai quando a gente tá aqui desiste, tá com algum problema? não sente tesão em mim, é isso?", a loira perguntava, emburrada, ainda sentada no sofá sem fazer qualquer menção de buscar o vestido que estava jogado longe, perto de uma poltrona. "não, não tem nada a ver contigo, desculpa, só... não tô conseguindo. a gente se fala outra hora", o uruguaio se apressava em responder, vestindo a blusa e deixando os botões por fechar antes de sair pela porta da frente e caminhar para o elevador ouvindo um "não vai ter outra hora!" bem enfezado vindo do apartamento que acabara de sair; pouco importava. puta merda, o que ele tava fazendo? não tinha combinado contigo que havia sido uma coisa de uma noite? que eram colegas de trabalho e que não podiam se deixar envolver mais do que já tinham feito? aliás, você nem fazia tanto o tipo dele - morena, cheia de curvas -, então por quê toda vez que ele tomava banho a memória de te foder em frente ao espelho, segurando seu pescocinho e sibilando as maiores putarias no seu ouvido, o atribulava? a sensação dos seus lábios em volta do membro pulsante, e como seus seios eram macios no contato contra a pele pela manhã; tudo isso forçando ele se aliviar na própria mão depois de mais uma transa frustrada com a loira que tinha conhecido num aplicativo de date. "vai ser só essa vez", você tinha acordado, embora ele ainda notasse seus olhares sobre a tela do notebook quando estavam no mesmo escritório, "continuamos colegas", "isso, só colegas". então por que ele te devorava com as irides castanhas assim que te via usando a saia lápis e o modelo de óculos retinho? por que ele se sentia incomodado quando seu parceiro de setor, esteban se oferecia pra te levar pra almoçar ou de te dar carona pra casa? o vogrincic se sentia doente pensando tanto assim, perdendo noites e mais noites de sono, sabendo que claramente era impossível continuar se enganando. mas, a corda só arrebentava quando assistia você e o mais alto trocando algumas palavras perto da máquina de café, a mão dele se aproximando da sua cintura para pedir uma licença afim de jogar o copinho plástico no lixo e todos os trejeitos de alguém que é desajeitado pra flertar. "posso falar contigo?", aparecia por ali de súbito com um falso sorriso nos lábios, "a sós", acrescentava sem olhar para o kukuriczka que no entanto entendia rapidamente. te arrastava até a salinha de arquivos e não tinha dúvidas em te beijar fervoroso - ainda mais afoito do que como tinha sido a primeira vez -, sentindo suas mãos o apertarem os ombros. "enlouqueceu?", "acho que sim", "porra enzo, e o nosso acordo?" indagava vendo o mais velho negar e suspirar, "que este trato se vaya al infierno" responderia e te pegaria bem forte ali mesmo, atrás de uma pilha de pastas, te dando apertões e subindo o joelho por entre suas coxas só pra te fazer pressão na bucetinha coberta e te deixar na vontade, combinando de se encontrarem depois do expediente.

[themagicmistress]

There is something wrong with Shen Qingqiu.

There has been as long as Liu Qingge’s known him, but it used to be that he spoke with the too-sharp syllables of a young master and liked to smack his fan in his palm like he was thinking of stabbing you with it. Now, the genre of ‘wrong’ Liu Qingge associates with Shen Qingqiu has more to do with the way he takes his youngest disciples for rides on Xiu Ya and keeps a specific teacup for Liu Qingge’s visits.

Can a qi deviation change one’s entire personality? Down to the way they speak?

“See, shidi?” Shen Qingqiu tilts up the scale of their latest catch with his blade. Underneath glitters a hard, reflective surface. “They’ve got two hides! Ah, only complete noobs scrape it off without clipping it from the skeleton.”

Liu Qingge doesn’t know what a noob is.

“Is it more valuable that way?” He says.

With a flick of his sword, Shen Qingqiu snatches out the top scale.

“It’s about pride! Are you cultivator or an idiot with a sharp object, hacking down everything in your path?” Shen Qingqiu grumbles. “This is good loot.

Shen Qingqiu is much more serene in viscera up to his forearms than at the Peak Meetings, Liu Qingge notes. He thinks doing this–the complaining as much as finding the creature itself–might be where Shen Qingqiu is at his most content. This is the man who grins behind his fan when Shang Qinghua spills tea in his own lap.

He raises an eyebrow at Liu Qingge. A curved, silver carapace balances in his one hand, a stack of silver scales piled inside. All finished, then. Liu Qingge offers him a hand, but Shen Qingqiu’s already risen to his feet.

Liu Qingge lowers it, but Shen Qingqiu’s already taken it with a mildly amused look on his face.

“I think we’ve moved past these sorts of formality by now,” Shen Qingqiu… wiggles Liu Qingge’s hand? He rattles it up and down and Liu Qingge doesn’t really know what’s happening. “But sure! Good job to both of us today.”

He lets go after a few seconds. Liu Qingge puts his hand down, his skin faintly tingling. Internally, he notes that in certain situations, if he gives Shen Qingqiu his hand, Shen Qingqiu will clasp it in his own.

He’ll have to pay attention to what times it would be appropriate to do it again.

“We were efficient,” Liu Qingge says in what he hopes is a normal voice. He’s fine. He clears Shen Qingqiu’s meridians all the time. “Your knowledge of the Five Mouth Mountain Pangolin is impressive.”

“Please,” Shen Qingqiu waves a hand dismissively. “If you don’t know about their three acid stomachs, you’re hardly a scholar.”

“Don’t forget the second hide,” Liu Qingge says.

Liu Qingge drops his sword for them to ride and Shen Qingqiu grins.

“Don’t quote my words to me!” Shen Qingqiu bats his shoulder with a hand, stepping onto Cheng Luan, “Eventually I’ll run out of things to tell you. Shidi, you don’t have to listen to me rambling so closely. I’ll get self-conscious.”

“I’ll make sure to forget everything you said by next time,” Liu Qingge says.

Cheng Luan sprints into the sky and Shen Qingqiu laughs. It sounds nothing like his laugh. It sounds beautiful.

Yes, there is something wrong with Shen Qingqiu. Deeply. Intrinsically. But Liu Qingge doesn’t mind so much. The parts that are wrong are his friend. And someday, more than.

[d0not-disturb]

Art reqst

Human grumbots

But its all the different grumbots

Oldest is ofc the first, maybe the mentally ill one (cause mumbo and grian locked him up in an island)

Buddy I already posted all the human Grumbot designs dawg

But might as well drop some lore while I’m at it

Oldest- Grumbot (OG from Season seven) “human” name: Luan Ronnie Jumbo (dreamslayer)

For his middle name I picked Ronnie because it means ruler (he pretty much parents his brothers) , and advice (literally his purpose), also Ronnie is such a good name tbh

Middle children- Grumbot Prime and Emperor Grumbot both from season 9, I made them twins since they don’t have a canon age difference unlike Grumbot and Jrumbot who were also made in the same season but have a canon age difference, grian literally saying Jrumbot was grumbots little brother. “Human” names: Parker Charles Jumbo (dreamslayer) for Grumbot Prime, and Emmett Oliver Jumbo (dreamslayer) for Emperor Grumbot

For the twins, their middle names correspond to who they are most like, so Parker is more like Grian and Emmett is more like Mumbo

Youngest- Jrumbot (also from season 7) “human” name: Archie Ryan Jumbo (dreamslayer)

Okay for the middle name he’s named after Scar because he is in fact the only jumbo kid who actually likes him, lazy ik but still

OKAY SO HOW THEY BECAME HUMAN:

No this isn’t the birds and the bees lesson because THEY WERENT MADE THAT WAY. So Xisuma started to notice how these MASSIVE robots were like conquering the hermitcraft multiverse (which apparently is canon) and killing a crap ton of people, specifically Scar, so he looked into it and turns out! They are Mumbo and Grian’s kids so he walked up to them one day and said, “take care of ya sons” so they go after them, or Xisuma forces them to, they fight and fight, and grian uses this BIG ASS spell that would turn the grumbots into their weakest form, which is human children (low key insulting to us humans ngl)

So they come back and Xisuma sees them like disheveled with like four crying little kids on them and he’s like, let’s take it one at a time mkay? So he takes the younger kids, and makes it so they won’t be ‘born’ until Grian and Mumbo Are ready for another kid because going from no kids to four kids in the span of 2 weeks is crazy

How does he do this? Well he genetically modifies them so that they revert back to just eggs that won’t hatch until exposed to heat, so he keeps them locked up in a freezer until the time is right

Ngl that sounds bad but trust me it’s not

Anyway grian and Mumbo soon realize they can’t really raise a kid none the less four on the hermitcraft server since there are no schools, hospitals, clinics, daycares, playgrounds, etc, and they panic cause they don’t wanna leave, so Xisuma adds a small sub server attached to the hermit craft server called, “the hermit suburbs” were people can live normal lives while still being hermits, and eventually more hermits and even some folks from empires and the life series go and live there and still go on the hermitcraft server.

So that’s where Grian and Mumbo raise the rest of those weird robot human hybrids

also after 2 years of Grian and Mumbo taking care of Luan, they are like, “yeah we can take another now” and then Xisuma gives them the twins and they are like “why are there two” and Xisuma is like, “I want this to be over with as soon as possible so I’m just giving you two deal with it” and so they just deal with it, but they soon realize how much more work it is, since the twins are VERY bad babies, what I mean is they cry all the time, don’t eat food they don’t like, don’t get dressed without a fight , etc, and so they wait 6 YEARS when they are almost teenagers to get the final egg, which is Archie, who is the best by far.

So that explains the age gap if you were wondering

Alright that’s all the lore y’all’s are getting DONT get attached