Tumgik
#modern day cultivation
lotuslate · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
@wlwangxianweek
Day 5: Domestic Bliss / est. relationship; they went on an amusement park date 🥰
517 notes · View notes
gentlegentian · 6 months
Text
mdzs modern au where song lan is an astronomy nerd who loves the stars and moon, and where xiao xingchen is visually impaired so he will never be able to see the beauty of the thing song lan loves but listens intently to everything he says anyway
115 notes · View notes
age-of-moonknight · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Party Monster,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #18.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Federico Sabbatini; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
34 notes · View notes
whiskeyfox · 1 year
Text
(Late) Valentines - Chengxian
I posted this on twt, but to those who follow me here, hello. I am posting this one day late chengxian valentines one shot.
Wei Wuxian could only crouch and poke at some talismans by his feet, as he heard the gleeful cheers of couples and other people outside, he did wonder why people even celebrate the death of another person, Valentines... It was Valentine's day that they celebrated, unfortunately for him, since he was immortal he had heard all the gossip when it happened and then, well... Wei Wuxian sighed as he saw the two little feet hoop into his sight, then Valentines became a love day. 
"Shoo, don't touch that, I know you love making a mess." 
"Caw-" 
"No-" The man and the raven had a sudden stare off competition. With the raven having turned its head to the side, its little beady eye glowing red. 
"You're only alive because I allow you to be, now shoo-" Wei Wuxian used his hand to gently push the raven away from the talismans.
The raven was none too pleased by this thread and pecked at the fingers with another caw.
"I know you want to go out and play, but I don't have the time right now, I got to look into this haunting." 
"Caw"
"No, I won't be celebrating valentine's day," Wei Wuxian finally looked up from the scattered papers and placed his arms on his knees as he watched the little bird, "I don't have anyone to celebrate it with either." If one paid close enough attention they could see the cogs turning in the little raven's head, but Wei Wuxian could only watch in both amusement and wariness, knowing how mischievous the bird could be.
 The little raven was only a fledgling when Wei Wuxian had found it in the Burial Mounds and having raised it, he couldn’t part with the mischievous little bird when its time had came and so he did something one shouldn’t do and messed with the circle of life once again, his consequences? Well the consequences were that Wei Wuxian must walk this earth without the escape of death. 
 Wei Wuxian could only chuckle as he turned back to the talismans ignoring the raven who was now hopping around its owner. Coming round, the raven used its beak to tug at the trousers leg, and Wei Wuxian continued to ignore the bird until there was a jingle. 
“Hey, give that back.” Wei Wuxian spoke softly as he finally turned his attention to the bird, who now had a little bell in its hold by a string. 
“You know how important that is to me, hey- hey let’s trade.” He thought he was a genuins, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some peanuts. He wished he was a genius, but it looked like the raven was not in the mood to bargain today.  
 The Raven tilted its head, the bell jingling in the process and Wei Wuxian slowly braced himself for the impact as he fell forwards, his stomach taking the brunt of the force and crumpling the talismans - which he was trying so hard not to touch - in hopes of catching the Raven, but he was too slow and the raven took a few hops before spreading its wings and flying off. 
“Bastard, and I raised you as well.” Wei Wuxian grumbled as he placed his forehead on the ground and just laid face flat for a moment before getting up and dusting himself off, he needed to find the bell. 
 Wei Wuxian finally looked around and started to make his way towards where he guessed the raven had flow off and made his way out the alleyway towards the bustling street, which in fact was full of vendors trying to preach roses or chocolate, with the excuse that a handsome man like him should have a sweetheart of his own. 
 And usually Wei Wuxian was good at ignoring the said compliments but when he was stopped in his tracks by a little girl who was selling some roses he could only groan on the inside and buy a few. 
 Roses in hand, he still continued down the road until he rounded a corner and heard the jingle of the bell. 
“Where did you get this from?”
“Caw” 
 Wei Wuxian felt time freeze as he saw the person sitting outside the cafe, the person was dressed casually with their hair in a half up and half down hairdo, the frown on their face felt familiar too, but it shouldn’t have been them, too many decades have passed. 
“Where did you get this from…” The man repeated the question, much slower now as he raised the bell up and the purple tassel dangled down. 
 And Wei Wuxian felt his own breath hitch and his heart pick up pace, it couldn’t be a trick of the light because the sun was shining over them, casting the man in a warm glow, even though they appeared quite unapproachable. 
“Calm down Wei Wuxian, he might not recognise you,” Wei Wuxian murmured to himself as he stuck on a smile and went over the pair of a man and crow. 
“Hey, so sorry- That’s mine, it's just this little guy who stole it from me.” 
 The man frowned even more as he looked up at Wei Wuxian, he looked like a carbon copy of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian felt a pang in his heart. 
“I would rather ask why would someone have a Yunmeng Jiang clarity bell with them.” 
 Well Wei Wuxian was screwed, he messed up big time, 
“But that would also explain why this crow kept bringing me all sorts of cursed trinkets.” 
“He’s not a crow but a Rave-” Wei Wuxian shut his mouth as soon as the man's words were processed. “Shit.” 
“You got some explaining to do, sit down.” Jiang Cheng motioned towards the open seat opposite to him. 
 Wei Wuxian felt lost for a moment but did as he was told and looked at the roses in his hands. 
“Are those for your beloved Lan?” The bitterness was still evident in Jiang Cheng’s tone as he placed the clarity bell on the table and leaned back, his arms crossing in front of his chest, it was a defensive stance. 
“No- No, these are uhh for you.” He panicked okay? 
 Jiang Cheng looked just as surprised by this, and hesitated for a moment before taking the roses, a soft blush tinting his cheeks. 
“You still have some explaining to do.” 
 The Raven gave a happy caw and hopped over to Jiang Cheng, pecking at the man’s hand. Wei Wuxian could only glare at the bird as Jiang Cheng raised his fingers and stroked its head.
 It looked like he wasn’t going to spend Valentines alone after all. 
13 notes · View notes
llycaons · 5 months
Text
you can make the wens mob bosses if you want but the jins had power that was legitimate by the standards of the setting and they has zero oversight or restrictions on their actions. it's more accurate to characterize them as an actual governing body, or at least a very powerful business with ties to politics, a lobbying body that pushes laws to let them legally murder or torture people, a massive legal team to keep them out of trouble, and a fantastic PR team that keeps their image clean
4 notes · View notes
alchemist-shizun · 1 year
Text
I've come to the realization that I've known about mdzs for about 4 months and so far I've been juggling in my head 3 different songxuexiao fic ideas (ones actually not ship fic only about post canon song lan and inner turmoil which we love) and SOMEHOW all of them involve little kids to a certain degree, either raising them or having a group of little ducklings following u everywhere u go.
This is a first and a pattern I wasn't expecting but I guess I'm welcoming it!
#mdzs#songxuexiao#theres like. modern swtting au where songxiao adopt a kid out of specific circumstances and xue yang shows up after a while#hes late with starbucks /j but their kid parent traps him as well#then the second one a canon divergence from the novel where an issue sees xxc bringing both zichen and a captured xy to baoshan sanren#xy is there mostly bc xingchen wouldnt know what the hell to do with him and theyre on a time limit#HE DOESNT GET TO TAKE HIM TO ANY BIG SECT. when they get there xxc brings sl to his master for treatment for stuff i havent figured out yet#but its BAD#and while xingchen waits he comes back to find xue yang is cornered SURROUNDED BY a myriad of younger disciples#theyre listening intently to the stories he tells and theyre so engaged by the plot and frequently ask questions#and ngl its kind of a cute vision#AS FOR THE LAST more canon compliant fic we have post yi city song lan doing his wandering cultivator life#stumbles upon a street where some older men are picking a fight with a child#the child is definitely a street child. orphan and homeless. he seems too softhearted to defend himself so sl helps!#ofc it doesnt end there Because this is a whole ass child who needs help so he decides to do what he can#little kid is gripping so HARD at his robes too hes terrified. thats also how he finds out in some twisted sick fate that fhe child is..#missinf a fucking finger. and now he has to resign himself to the idea of being constantly reminded of a certain someone as he raises him#because he WILL raise him its the right thing to do cant trust anyone these days#okay thats all if u read up until here hi im idya come chat with me about yi city arc im friendless /hj#but seriously im so insane about this arc and the characters i need someone to yell with
8 notes · View notes
woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:
vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)
which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.
luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.
why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.
vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.
then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.
which then require months of further specialized treatment.
the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage
Tumblr media Tumblr media
vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.
the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!
it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!
which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s
Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.
today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar
if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!
(src)
61K notes · View notes
battleguqin · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
dreams-of-fate asked:
"I think more people should have Bigfoot's baby. He needs to repopulate." (Xia)
Tumblr media
The look of confusion that touched Lan Sizhui's face as he reach for the peanut butter to add to the cart that he had Xia sitting in. As he had promised Chun'er he would do the groceries so she had have a girl's day.
A quick gaze went to the rags at the end of the cash registers they were passing. In bold letters I HAD BIGFOOT'S BABY it took ever single ounce of willpower to not comment negatively.
"Are you looking to date Bigfoot , baby ?" he asked her as he glanced down at her. "I can tell you who will object, me and mommy." Sizhui was a modern day cultivator, not too many of them left around that he knew of outside of his own circle. So if they could exist was it possible Big Foot could as well ?
Maybe he needed to call a Night Hunt--just in case.
0 notes
travalerray · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
or where Lan Xichen tries to cook for Jiang Yanli
1 note · View note
malicemismanager · 8 months
Text
Y'know considering the sheer amount of zombie media I consume (ha) it's surprising I've never written a zombie story. I mean, technically I did start one years and years and years ago, but it's currently judging me from the void I've yeeted all my original work into and I didn't even get 1k words into it (hel I don't think I even got to the zombies orz), so I'm choosing not to count it. XD
0 notes
halfmoth-halfman · 2 years
Text
the little things
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.
part two. part three. part four.
The first time is purely by accident. 
It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise. 
Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.
Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork. 
Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.
“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed. 
“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?” 
“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly. 
“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”
Soap makes a note to ask about that story later. 
“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”
“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.” 
There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes. 
“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.
“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.
“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.
“Really?”
“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary. 
“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back. 
Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway. 
“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod. 
“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”
“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man. 
Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office. 
-
The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened. 
Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard. 
Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others. 
You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after. 
When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep. 
When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.
-
The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church. 
He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry. 
They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated. 
They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-
“The mask. Take it off.”
“Show my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Negative.”
“Are you ugly?”
“Quite the opposite.”
“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice. 
“Holy hell, where have you been?”
“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.
“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.
“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”
Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”
“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”
“Wh-”
“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.” 
“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade. 
It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-
“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. 
“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”
-
The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back. 
“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.
“¿Quién está ahí?”
Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out. 
“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife. 
“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm. 
“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you. 
“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.
“Your leg-”
“Looks worse than it is.” 
Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.
“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.
“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.
“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.
“For you? Always.”
“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg. 
-
By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.
“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back. 
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.
“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?” 
“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow. 
“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.
“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion. 
“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands. 
“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.
“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug. 
“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”
-
“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from. 
“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain. 
“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself. 
Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever. 
Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.
Your last name is Riley.
16K notes · View notes
knightsickness · 2 months
Text
westerosi perfume culture thoughts based on medieval/early modern ^^
incense in septs to the point of both cat and sansa immediately thinking of the smell of it when thinking about the faith. this is fully a ‘the faith is just catholicism’ thing theres reference to a censer being used at tywin’s funeral, though this is also to cover the smell of the body - i believe its implied theyre using a lot more incense than they typically would and failing to overpower the rot smell
scented candles and incense are both used in septs and to scent rooms - scented candles higher-end, beeswax candles, which even unscented smell quite sweet and are quite expensive (they burn cleanly and don’t spit). animal fat tallow candles are much cheaper but perfume can’t stop rotting fat smelling of rotting fat it just combines with it. tallow tends to be used in poorer settings, for light not scent
scented beeswax candles used by tyrion and cat, and in the sept of baelor - imo v unlikely most smallfolk or smaller septs are buying them regularly, especially considering how many candles they need to keep lit. i’d say tallow 90% of the time beeswax on holy days
basically every noble in kings landing seems to wear perfume, ned specifically repulsed by the fact that robert now does which is crazy. whats roberts taste in perfume like
varys specifically is always described as perfumed, which is like. effeminacy due to eunuch status he leans into but also his ambiguous origin - while a lot of people in westeros wear perfume it seems to be significantly more popular in the free cities + beyond, vv frequently mentioned in dany chapters
perfumed and powdered often go together, varys and lysa off the top of my head - powders could also be scented, quite popular in france
multiple references to oldtown being heavily perfumed, dual reference to incense as a faith centre and worn perfume on a dowager, oldtown as a wealthy city and consumer centre
perfume also strongly associated with prostitution, an irony - septs and brothels often scented with incense, the ‘perfumed boy’ slaves victarion kills, satin wearing scent in his beard
popular scents rarely described in more detail than a type of flower or ‘sweet’ - most interesting perfume a westerosi lady wears is taena’s wildflower and musk, which cersei compares to the smell of moss
the tyrells seem to only wear rosewater this is pretty explicitly part of their branding as a house. even the blue bard a tyrell servant washes his hair with rosewater. most roses actually don’t distill well i’m assuming they have some westerosi equivalent to damask roses grown in bulk at highgarden or some other reach territory (probably at highgarden their scent in the gardens would be part of the tyrell image cultivation there. henry viii did this specific thing so you would smell his rose perfume in the gardens even when he was away from home which some historians have referred to as a ‘serve’) only like two varieties of rose work in perfuming. i’d also speculate that the roses margaery and her ladies brought to tywin’s funeral, if they were strong-smelling enough to cover the smell of an unnaturally rotting corpse, were probably roses scented with rosewater
perfume application on people typically oils, waters and more rarely waxes - multiple mentions of perfumed beards or hairstyles and waxes would be easier for that - perfume in baths common for the wealthy
no mention of scented accessories e.g. gloves or fans, though both immensely popular in elizabethan england - are there civet cats or equivalent in westeros? there are whales and thus presumably ambergris, taena’s perfume referred to as musky but unclear if this means it contains actual musk - animal perfumes are best for scenting leather, strong and waxy and other lighter scents can cling to them. dany wears scented silk clothes
tyrion associates worn perfume strongly with old whores, which suggests cheap perfume widely accessible, probably perfumer’s shops in major cities (notable bc otherwise we could conclude perfumers worked primarily for aristocratic patrons)
there are probably westerosi perfume-makers but its also likely theres a solid luxury import trade - dorne and the free cities both have established distinct perfume cultures and strong trade links with merchants
588 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 9 months
Note
I feel like Poly!marauders are sooo caring so maybe a dynamic where the reader is like an overly-insependent person and is not used to this kind of care and affection. Maybe it is reader’s first relationship so they have a hard time with the concept of leaning to others for support. Thank you in advance love!
Lmao this came wayyy too easily because I've definitely done all of these things! Thanks for requesting lovely <3
modern au
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
"Where you headed off to, gorgeous?" Sirius looks up from his laptop as you step into your shoes.
"Grocery store," you say. "I'm thinking of making souffle tonight, would you want some?"
"Yeah, that sounds great." He grins at you in that way of his, and you know he knows your knees just went wobbly. "Want a lift?"
"Thanks, but the bus goes almost directly there."
Remus looks up from his book with eyebrows already furrowed in disapproval. "It's nearly dark out, love. You shouldn't be walking around by yourself this late."
You roll your eyes. Men. "I can handle myself, been doing it for years," you say as reassuringly as you can, slipping out the door before either of them can argue with you further. "I'll be back soon!"
You keep a hand close to the rape alarm attached to your bag as you maneuver your way through the shadowy streets. You've been tired since you woke up that morning, so a ride would have been nice, sure, but you don't want to become one of those girlfriends who relies on her boyfriends for everything. That was your biggest concern with getting into a relationship: losing the sense of self-reliance you've cultivated over your life. You don't need help from anyone, even if the big, strong men think you do. You huff a laugh to yourself.
The grocery shopping goes quick, soon you're back at your own front door. Sirius and Remus are almost exactly as you left them, both curled up on the couch, but now James is home from the gym. You know this, because he apprehends you as soon as you walk through the door, hair wet from the shower and dripping on your paper grocery bags as he attempts to take them from you.
"I've got them," you laugh, dodging him.
James gives chase. "You're carrying three! Let me take a couple."
"I can handle it." You kick at his ankle playfully, sniffling.
He pauses, and you take the opportunity to whisk the bags into the kitchen, setting them on the counter victoriously. "You feeling alright, sweetheart?" he asks.
"Yeah." You wave him off. "It's just chilly outside. Go relax, I'm about to start dinner."
James pouts but goes, flopping dramatically over the side of the couch. His head lands in Sirius' lap, and the other boy starts combing his fingers through the tangles of James' wet hair absentmindedly. Satisfied, you start setting out the ingredients you'll need, but a moment later Remus materializes beside you.
"You've been running around all day," he says. "Let me make dinner. You go relax."
"I don't mind," you say, slightly affronted. "I can handle dinner."
"Baby," Sirius pipes up, turning to look at you over the couch, "just let him do it. Take a—" he stops as you sneeze. "Are you sick?"
"No," you sniffle. "I don't think so."
Before you can move away, Remus has a hand on your forehead. "You're warm!" he says, in the same tone as one might say You're killing people and burying them in our backyard! A bit dramatic, in your opinion.
"Oh," you say, covering your face with your elbow as you sneeze again.
"Aw, angel," James says, your sole ally as Remus and Sirius look at you accusingly, as though they suspect you've been keeping this from them on purpose. Which....to be fair, isn't outside the realm of possibility. "Come sit with us, let us take care of you."
"Go," Remus says, moving his hand to the back of your neck and pursing his lips at whatever he feels there. "I'll make dinner, and some tea for you, yeah?"
You shake your head. "That's alright, I can—"
"Don't say you can handle it."
You huff, but it's clear you're not going to win this one. You go to the couch, where James accepts you with eager arms.
"Our poor girl," he coos, kissing every inch of your cheek sloppily. "Fuck, you are warm. You just need to take some time to rest, yeah?"
You sniffle grouchily, but Sirius pokes at your side, eliciting an unwilling snicker. "You could stand to let us help you out every now and then," he says, already seeming less upset with you. You suspect you have your illness to thank for that.
"I can take care of myself," you argue, but the fight is going out of you as you finally give into the cold you maybe sort of knew was coming on all day.
"We know you can, dove," Remus chimes in from the kitchen. "And that's what you've always done, but letting us take care of you sometimes isn't going to suddenly make you helpless, either." He shoots you a knowing look, too perceptive for his own good. And yours, apparently.
You sneeze again, jerking away from James so you don't spray on him. You feel disgusting, and pathetically vulnerable. Is this what they want you to succumb to? "I don't want to get too used to this," you say, voice small as you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve, "and forget how to manage without your help."
Each of your boyfriends, even Remus, softens like butter in the sun.
"Baby." Sirius wraps an arm around you, looking at you with eyes so soft you feel like you could cry. "You won't forget. You're tough, and that's not gonna change just because you let us do some things for you, yeah?"
You look at your lap, contemplating. He's not not making sense. The idea of accepting help is so unfamiliar to you, it feels like a betrayal of your core values. But you love Sirius, and Remus, and James, and if what they want is to help you, maybe you can try to let them. Some of the time, at least.
Sirius curls a finger under your jaw, his thumb resting on your chin as he tilts your face up to his. He must see the concession in your eyes, because he smiles softly. It's almost an apology, and you know that he's aware of how difficult this is for you to give up.
"You're gonna have to get used to this, sweet thing," he says lightly, pressing a kiss to your overwarm forehead. "Because we're not letting you go."
2K notes · View notes
mooncheese3 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
DISCLAIMER: this version is different from the prev post on this au (vvv) in that this is the only incarnation of sj that ghost!yqy has encountered, and bingges dont keep popping up for a shizun. but yqy still goes down the simon petrikov route of self sacrifice for loved one(s)
ok so ghost!yqy in the modern world with reincarnated!sj
So. after pidw. yqy's physical body didnt survive, but his spirit Did. he failed sj so many times already, he's not going to fail him again, and through sheer determination and love and want he put himself back together (as hed always done)
him fixing himself wasnt really bc of his rational mind. if anything it was a glutteral, instinctual Need that really pushed him to mold himself into a being all over again. however bc his spirit is binded with xuansu's, on top of his spirit almost disappearing bc of how much scattered, bringing the pieces of himself together took a LOT of time
by the time he took form, sqq was long dead
not sure if he shouldve been the one to end lbg, but itd be kind of cool if that was the case
and so yqy, whose entire purpose is to protect sj, roams the world looking for his reincarnation
in the background apocalyptic shit happens that leads the world to abandon and/or forget about cultivation, which leads us to the modern world!!🥳
sj still has a hard-knock life on the streets and then with the qius--can u tell im a sucker for the history repeats itself trope. he doesnt remember anything, but he Does feel like someone is missing. like someone that Should be there Isnt. its a constant feeling in the back of his mind, but he always pushed it away to focus on the now.
like what happened in his first life, sj has enough of all the abuse and kills qjl. what Changes though is that yqy is finally--after thousands and hundreds of years--on time
yqy burns everything down.
sj isnt sure what to make of this malevolent being. no one else but him can see it, though people /can/ see when it moves things around. people have always mentioned to sj that they feel like someone's watching them, though when they look around no one is looking their way
it makes people leave him alone, which is honestly what sj prefers
its (he's?) his savior and he makes him feel safe, yes, but who knows when that wrath gets directed at himself. his head is screaming at the threat yqy poses while his instinct and soul tells him hes safest with yqy. for a long time sj walks on eggshells around yqy, sometimes trying to escape his presence
his attempts always fail, though. somehow.
he eventually starts to warm up to yqy. sj has a feeling that this...thing was always meant to be by his side (as illogical as that sounds). he no longer has that feeling of a missing presence, something he'd felt since he'd developed a consciousness as a very young child
sj even finds the ghost a bit endearing, in his infinite gentleness to contrast his terrifying, sharp form. he doesnt understand why the ghost is so protective over him (the ghost once almost flew into a destructive frenzy over everything except him when he and his team went to investigate a deep, unexplored ravine that appeared out of nowhere), but that was endearing too
— RAMBLES BC I FORGOT WHAT I WAS GONNA TYPE NEXT (ITS BEEN A FEW MONTHS SORRY) —
one day sj got tired of calling the ghost “the ghost”, so he decided to find him a name. the ghost seems to have an opinion on this, as his thick eyebrows turned downwards every time sj called/proposed to him a name to be referred to. the progress was non existent, so sj started spouting out random characters and then later on numbers. when sj gets to “qi”, the ghost very excitedly straightens up from its seemingly perpetual hunched posture.
“7?” sj snorts, finding it a little funny. who knows, perhaps spirits loose their marbles the longer they stay amongst the living. he watches “qi’s” eyes crease into happy crescents, the shadows seeping away from his form retreating back into himself. his form looks more solid: less blurry and more clearer at the edges.
“lao qi, you really are weird” sj says fondly, though is inwardly confused when lao qi seems to deflate a little. perhaps he didnt want to be reminded of his age?
"what, do you want to be called xiao qi?" qi's eyes twitch, as if weirded out. "thought so. qige?"
at this, qi's eyes widen into two happy suns, joyfully—on instinct—coming closer. but then stops himself a pace away, as if remembering himself
sj raises a brow, "youre far too old to be called qige; im many generations your junior, yknow? youre basically my grandfather's ancestor's ancestor"
qi's eyes droop into despondent half circles. sj carefully doesnt say any more, recognizing that it may be a more sensitive topic than he thought.
SORRY YUE QI </3333 BUT </333 ... ITS FOR THE GREATER GOOD
THAT I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW, BUT NOT VERY WELL DONE:
in canon, sqq and yqy are stuck in the past. it keeps them from growing as persons and as. brothers? friends? Potential Lovers. Yes.
in this au, it is especially so for yqy, who loses himself the more he clings to the past, his promise, and sj
when he first died, his soul was at risk of being destroyed, scattered pieces and all. but because he put himself back together, he Could reincarnate into his next life. its just that he refuses to.
had he allowed himself to move on and accept that things have passed, he would have been able to start over anew in the modern world; perhaps even changed the course fate seems to have set on them for the better Without his soul suffering for it
sj reminding him that hes from an era long gone serves as one of many instances that help him come to terms with. dying? moving on. Yes.
ON THE TOPIC OF YQY'S SOUL MOVING ON.
i was thinking just now How that would happen, esp when in this au yqy's soul is like. one wrong move away from self destruction, xuan su's still binded to him, yqy letting go of sj after roaming All Those Years? Very hard., its the modern world so supernatural cultuvation stuff is almost entirely out of the picture, sj is like 25 what would he know about these things, etcetc that sort of stuff
but then i was like. "WAIT A MINUTE. THIS IS AIRPLANES WORLD. TRUE LOVE IS TOTALLY A VIABLE SOLUTION"
so. True love is the solution. true love saves qige💗
and then in their next life its the ultra ultra modern futuristic au and theyre pilots of mega robots 💗 /hj
OH. AND. THIS IS THE SONG I GOT THE DIALOGUE (???) FROM
youtube
398 notes · View notes
llycaons · 5 months
Text
I just went to a bioethics transplant talk about something tangentially related and much more important than the fictional drama I'm about to apply it to, but the popular dicourse around the gc donation as an act that victimized jc primarily and unforgivably is really wild to me as someone who works in transplant on both the donor and recipient sides AND someone who may need a transplant in the future bc yes jc was lied to about the specifics of where his organ was coming from and the risk to other people but one of the MOST important aspects to a live organ donation is making sure that the donor is kept safe as well which takes into account both the risks during surgery and post-transplant quality of life. wwx may have been fully aware of the risks and willing to take them, but under the modern medical ethics that ppl use to claim jc's autonomy was violated, wwx was at FAR greater risk.
jc wouldn't have died due to medical causes, and an otherwise perfectly healthy wwx had a 50% chance of death, and a shortened lifespan with weaker powers even if he lived. its all risk! risk to the extent that I highly doubt any modern surgeon would have agreed to the procedure. and its so disingenuous for fans operating under that framework to act that it was all an act of violence towards jc and not a deeply destructive act for wwx as well. autonomy for one person and safety for another aren't always easy to balance in health care and this is definitely a unique situation, but they both absolutely weigh heavily. there's a lot to be said about ethical decisions in transplant and I'm not saying any of these considerations are objectively correct or free from flaws, but under this current framework that fans are arguing under, its just an unbalanced discussion.
4 notes · View notes
coolshadowtwins · 12 days
Text
I feel like I have not read enough fanfic that gets into the fact that Binghe thinks his husband was once a slave.
Binghe being like, “Wow, me keeping him captive was probably awful!” (For more reasons than that, really, but this is the one he’s focusing on.)
Binghe trying his hardest to not do anything that would remind SQQ of that time.
Binghe being horrified to learn that SQQ didn’t really eat those three years he was gone, because Binghe was a street kid too. He knew the feeling of starvation, and he knew, even if you don’t have to eat anymore as a cultivator, the anxiety of missing too many meals causing your body. He always has food ready for SQQ to eat, even if Binghe is really really busy.
Binghe getting so caught up in his head about not causing SQQ distress about his past as a slave, that SQQ actually has to sit down and talk to him about it.
Maybe this comes in the form of a identity reveal. Maybe this just comes in the form of convincing Binghe that SQQ simply doesn’t remember back then. Either way, Binghe needs to stop getting so worked up over this.
Because there were other reasons that the water prison was awful!
There isn’t anything memories for Binghe to bring up, other than a few scattered memories of SJ that SQQ has.
SY has never felt what starvation felt like. He’s actually a little concerned with how much Binghe has been stretching himself thin.
There was nothing to cause distress here! Promise!
(I think it would be funny, if it’s played in a humorous way, if the story ends with Binghe calming down about the slave thing, only then to immediately hitting one of SY’s modern day triggers that LBH didn’t even know to look out for. What was the trigger? Who knows. Not me)
205 notes · View notes