all my love, fall with grace.

[deiscension]

DEISCENSION. —  low + sporadically active / mutuals-only / multi-verse; very cross-over, oc, & pre-established friendly!

ind. roleplay blog for shi qingxuan from tian guan ci fu. written by lain ( they/them, 21+ ). mostly canon-compliant, not spoiler free. portrayal informed by seven seas' english translation alongside broader xianxia, wuxia, & gothic horror conventions. open to starting from scratch, plotting, and/or writing non-linearly!

carrd. —○— verses. —○— meta. —○— canon arc crash course ( tba )

a sun-drenched tale featuring: the steep price of innocence; eternal light blinding you to your own shadow; falling without grace; setting the broken bone and learning to stumble before you can walk again; a love that cannot be killed.

while shi qingxuan is upbeat in personality, her story ( and tgcf as a whole ) contains many horror elements. dark themes present, primarily: extreme family dysfunction/abuse, physical & emotional abuse, death/grief/survivor's guilt, experiences with transphobia & gendered violence, suicidal ideation, codependency, and psychological distress. although these themes may not be directly written in interactions, they are at play behind the scenes. i tag all potentially upsetting content as #word cw. if you need anything tagged, let me know!

important note: i write shi qingxuan as transfem. she does not follow strict binary in gender presentation and practiced norms. this is integral to my characterization of her. any weird behavior regarding this will result in an immediate block. 

riding the winds with: @tenkoseiensei (+blogroll) ; @riwrite ; @fatepowered ; @diivineray ; @kirakiras ; @futurefind ; @lanqin / @blightbloom ; @melodicbreeze ; @oathstruck

[riwrite]

from @deiscension. Who's to say how the evening turned to this: the table they were sharing downstairs and the tea still set upon it forgotten, bodies pressed against each other in the threshold of a vacant inn's room. She has He Xuan braced against the wall just beyond latticed framework, chest to back, a outside lanternlight painting exposed skin in rosy hues (if Shi Qingxuan could lap the pool of light from the divot beneath He Xuan's throat, she would). They haven't even made it past the doorway. It doesn't matter. It's one of her inns, she can use any part of it how she pleases. If anyone catches them, they'll know better than to say a word about how Lady Black Tempest has chosen to entertain her favorite guest.

Her robes have fallen open just enough to allow the swell of her breasts to spill nearly all the way out, their weight settled firm against He Xuan's back. Though Black Tempest has no need for breath, she inhales and exhales with bated cadence, just to tease with the rhythmic swell and ebb. One hand roams He Xuan's chest, leisurely cradling one breast before switching to the other. Her other hand has made itself at home between the civil god's legs; exploratory at first, palm tracing inner thighs and thumb ghosting undergarments where heat emanated through thin layers of silk, now bold and promissory. Two fingers rub at He Xuan through the thin barrier of fabric, steady in pace, cruel in alternating pressure. As soon as she feels the civil god's hips shift, Shi Qingxuan smooths her hand downward, providing her palm to grind on as she strokes slickened entrance. Her fingers crook, pushing at drenched fabric, not yet pushing it to the side, suggesting more but not yet giving. She grins against He Xuan's exposed nape, relishes the knowledge the god will feel the sharp edges of her teeth scraping soft and sweet as a maiden's innocent kiss against her skin. "Will just my fingers be enough to satisfy? I could use my mouth, too. Both, if you want to be touched and filled." Velvet purr dips lower, rough at the edges with unabated want. "Anything He-jie wants from me, she'll get… if she asks for it." Her lips feather along He Xuan's skin with each word, feigned breath several degrees too cool to give illusion of life. "Does He-jie know what she wants?" Her fingers slip beneath the drenched layer of silk, forming a 'v' to trace either side of the civil god's clit and grind the top of her palm against raised hood. "If she doesn't, she need only ask for assistance instead." A kiss where He Xuan's pulse sings out to Shi Qingxuan, so quickened and warm it makes her teeth, ribs, and unattended cunt ache with feverish need. She cannot help how her next words spill out as a moan: "This Ghost King will happily oblige."

once or twice, long ago, in a shadowed echo of this position, he xuan lay in bed, his chest to his wife's back, hand at home between her legs. her soft moans were melodic in the dreamy morning atmosphere, his nose tucked into her neck as he left featherlight kisses on her nape. her pleasure had been his, satisfying her had been a gift.

he hasn't felt arousal like this since then, and never before so intense in this body ( he would be lying if he were to say he's never touched himself in this form — he surprised himself with how much he'd missed feeling the slick warmth of a cunt under his fingers — but this is the first time someone else has touched it. there is no one he has ever seen doing so other than shi qingxuan ). it is familiar and new all at once, the ache of it after centuries of loneliness has his undergarments soaked, hips bucking instinctively into shi qingxuan's palm. harsh breaths with a newly feminine edge coming from his own mouth making him only feel even more come apart.

the sharp edges of her teeth, promising threats against the sensitive skin of his neck, fingers teasing, providing her hand for him to grind against, pleasure like fire in his abdomen with the hint of direct touch to his clit. he brings a hand over the one on his chest, encouraging, the other busy bracing them both against the wall. he'd been about to raise an eyebrow and dryly complain about the somewhat public location, but that had been before a hand found its way between hot skin and wet silk — the thought may as well have been tossed from the heavens and into the sea.

he – jie. the sound of his name with a feminine honorific given to it makes his heart race, makes his hand tighten around hers to squeeze his own breast. he doesn't care much what he looks like either way, but there is freedom in this. a god made hot and wanting by a devastation, in a form most of his male followers would balk at... it's anything but the numbing routine he settled into four centuries ago. it's dangerous, and he loves it.

   " i want you to do whatever you want, " he breathes, not pushing the choice off of himself and onto her like he sometimes does, but instead reveling in surprise and unpredictability. " your fingers, your mouth — " he trails off into a long exhale, shaky from sensation, then says something he knows he might come to regret later, but he can't help it, he wants to feel dissected and loved in pieces. he wants to feel like something else.

   " i want this ghost king to ruin me, qingxuan. "

[deiscension]

      ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── SHE HAS HEARD this very plea since her emergence from the Kiln all those fateful centuries ago: ruin me, ruin them, bring all of it to ruin. Some even beg to ruin her: those whose fury and grief have nowhere else to go except fists in need of a body to break, teeth in need of a throat to tear, heels in need of bones to crush underfoot, mouths and hands and riptides of desire in need of innards to expose and hips to rut against and a voice to smother as their anguish bleeds out against the sharp relief of ecstacy. And if there is one redeeming quality well known of Black Tempest Echoing Screams, it is her generosity. Of course she obliges. Of course she will also oblige He Xuan. More than oblige.

     If it is ruin he wants, it is ruin he will get. She will lay him out with all his best parts exposed ( the entire self, nothing but the whole, everything that makes him ), lick all the way inside, bring him into her and her into him until the slip of skin on skin and breath gasped from one mouth into the other is as one. She wonders, with no small amount of self-loathing, if he is aware of all the nights bleeding into days and days burning into nights she has spent aching for this. To love him in the best way she knows how. It won't hurt, she silently promises with another kiss to his flushed neck. She won't let it hurt. Not unless he wants that from her, too.

     "Who would have thought He Xuan Zhenjun capable of such avarice! I knew you had some vice in you yet. It only needed a bit of teasing out, didn't it, jie-jie?" Shi Qingxuan's laughter, sweet and heavy with affection, spills out as liquid and warm as the want pulsing like an organ in the soft cradle between her thighs.

     She continues to rub two fingers against his clit, the glide slick and quickened. The meat of her clothed thigh nestles between his, encouraging He Xuan to arch just enough for comfortable accomodation so her hand can dip further. Featherlight kisses flutter down to the elegant slope between neck and shoulder as those two fingers explore the threshold of his cunt, palm now cupping his mound so that every push grinds the heel of her hand against it. As soon as she feels the shallowest reach of He Xuan's passage begin to relax, she withdraws entirely.

     It's only for a moment, just long enough to turn He Xuan so the two now press chest to chest, and yet she feels like a whipped mutt left to starve. Her mouth finds his with a tender fury, soft where it needs to be and demanding in all else. There is a slight tremble in her hands as they trace down his sides, find his hips and hold firm, dragging forward and up so his cunt frots against the hiked-up layers of her skirt. As soon as she is certain he'll continue rocking against her of his own accord, she permits her hands roam once more. Each cup his breasts, thumbs kneading the undersides as the pads of her pointer fingers flick across pebbled nipples once, twice, before pinching. She swallows the noise that wrenches from her lover with a groan of her own. She repeats the action in alternation with the pressure of her thigh against his clit until she feels him soaking through the fabric. Then she places a kiss to the corner of his parted lips, miserable to be apart from them but dizzy with excitement for all the other parts of him she has yet to taste, and drops to her knees.

     "And if what I want is my mouth on you right where we are now, licking and licking until you're dripping down my jaw and making a mess on the floor?" She Qingxuan croons, making sure her love-drunk giggle ghosts across the coarse hair glistening with the civil god's want as she splays both hands along the crease between leg and pelvis. One thumb works to expose enough of He Xuan's clit for her to kitten-lick before pressing a quick kiss atop the root. Her eyes flash dark with hunger through her lashes, words muffled when she says, "I think that's exactly what I'll do."

     Before He Xuan has a chance to protest, Shi Qingxuan tilts her face forward, lips wrapped firm and tongue pressed to the underside of his clit, and suckles.

[ayesopod]

something terrible. echoes of past intrusions. barely discernible

[deiscension]

Preemptive public apology post for F.eng Xin. Nothing's happened yet. But that will change.

[tenkoseiensei]

"what is love to you?" a question whispered into the dark of a sweltering summer's night; light as a breeze ruffling downy feathers, heavy as a cangue upon bruised shoulders. she wants to run as soon as it settles between them, a third presence invited yet foreign. she wants to laugh it away. wants to ask again. wants to know. why does she? hard to say. she's used to asking questions for no reason aside from the fact she can. a soft exhale. her lungs are too full, not full enough. quieter, steadier: "do you know that i love you?"

@deiscension

love is loyalty is lost , he thinks , and it hurts him . love was a longing belonging to nobody and nothing at all anymore , scattered and dispersed into the impoverished winds like ash or the crumbling petals of wilted flowers . love was utterly unspeakable , so how could he have ever answered her with anything more than the look he gives ; smile somber , arcs of his eyes cracked with bitter pain ? the yellowing sunset behind her casts a shadow onto him and blisters each emerald eye nigh - amber , and within them is every confession : he wants to run , too . to be able to answer this in any other way that what he ( and he alone , ) knew of it , the resounding questions in his thoughts wandering like each ragged footstep on the days wherein he knocked on one door after the other , next after next .

is love what i'm no longer able to give , or what i'm no longer able to obtain ?

something in him feels cruel . indignant . he wants to snap just as much as he wants to laugh : don't be absurd . don't be stupid . nothing about him was worth love anymore and if there was anything then it was too late . to bear and endure it ; to give anything back . meanings to him went foul or else they went to waste . and they differed in this way , he knew --- shi qingxuan had managed to retain what he couldn't . she restrained herself where he could not , because love too , at times for yan qing , could feel both as held - breath exhilarating and blindly infuriating as hate . love was a lord was not listening . love was ... love was ... love was . ' i know . ' his head tilts in a faint form of acknowledgement though it only turns his smile crooked . his eyes , dry as dead bamboo . ' you've always loved everyone . even when you didn't understand them --- really understand . '

[deathfavor]

The eyes and ears of Heaven. Such had been designated as Ling Wen's title both as a term of admiration and disdain. Almost nothing escaped her knowledge. Such as knowing Shi Qingxuan was considering paying a visit even before the official request and arrangements had come through. THE QUESTION WAS IF SHE WOULD REALLY APPEAR. Or would she avoid it at all cost, abandon it last minute to flee with the winds that had once wrapped around her so tightly? Only time would reveal that much.

SHE ARRIVES.

Years pass, but the burdens of essentially running the Heavens does not. Mostly due to the INCOMPETENCE of her fellow gods - some old and some new. But she is not drowning as bad as the months immediately following her crimes and the punishment ; she can afford to set aside time to properly reacquaint herself with a face that has been absent but not forgotten. Where the younger's eyes seem to avoid her face at all cost, Ling Wen's study the other carefully as if it were something delicate puzzle to piece together. THERE IS A STRANGE ACHE SOMEWHERE UNDER HER STEEL RIBCAGE. She can see traces of Shi Wudu in the face in front of her. Siblings, after all. It is not that Ling Wen sees the other as him - far from it ; she sees the other for how she is and who she is. But she cannot deny the similar features that lurk like ghosts in the shadows.

Ling Wen waits and does not pressure. Shi Qingxuan has come to her ; Ling Wen will not rush if there is something on her mind that she is building up towards. Instead she settles for providing them both with fresh tea ( and perhaps something that can help occupy the other's hands so she stops picking at her sleeves - how the other goddesses would tear her apart. ) It does not prepare her for the question that comes. One that has Ling Wen inhaling ever so subtly.

" You shouldn't backtrack upon your words, or else they'll come to lose their power. " Ling Wen's voice is smooth and steady, like a shark fin breaching the water as she regards the other. THE LITTLE BIRD THAT NEVER TRULY KNEW HER BROTHER. " Don't tell Ol' Pei that. He'll have a tantrum. " That statement is punctuated with a smirk as she lifts her cup to her lips and takes a sip, mulling over where to begin.

" By no means think his pride was any less even with us. " She starts, but already the infamous ice and steel of her voice has softened just a fraction, the edge worn away. " But it was tempered. On occasion he would swallow it. His tongue was as sharp as ever, but softened for teasing while taking care to not go to far ; a mercy I think you know well he did not allot to others. " She had always been fond of that sharp tongue of his. " The waters can be vicious and heartless, but so too can it contain treasures within ; that the roar of waves can soften to a gentle lull. "

The memories rise, old wounds aching at the thought. She remembers the nights spent drinking and talking, of teasing and taunting each other not out of malice, but of care. She remembers the safety and recognition spent with them ; of the comfort of lowering her guard whether it be in fun or letting herself fall sleep with her boys beside her, or a soothing hand running through her hair. Her throat bobs when she swallows, gazing down at the warm tea in her hand that cannot chase away the BONE-DEEP CHILL OF ABSENCE.

" Protective as well, a gentleness hidden by jagged rocks. But I suppose freer as well with us. " When he did not have all eyes upon him, nor fret about his younger sibling ; when it was only the three of them and the rest of the world could be forgotten. " Even if my overworking did tend to worry him. He was quite amusing when drunk. " She adds, a smile touching her lips when she lifts her head to regard the other goddess.

Ling Wen places the tea down, hands folded on her lap. " I understand. " And she does. " Only Ol' Pei and I speak of him still - he wasn't exactly the most popular with that tongue of his. " She chuckles, warm despite the ache. " Have you paid visit to his resting place since your return? " She inquires ; her head tiling slightly as steel blue hair sweeps down at the act.

[deiscension]

      ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── IN ONLY A matter of moments Shi Qingxuan scarcely recognizes the woman sitting across from her. Ling Wen doesn't smile. Not with warmth kindled by anything other than irony. Ling Wen doesn't laugh. Not without a target for the sound to sink into like a blade making a sheathe out of an exposed underbelly. When she speaks of anyone, it is either with civil indifference, disaffected cynicism, or muted sadism. And this man she reminesces about, who is he? Not Wudu. Not the Wudu that Shi Qingxuan knew.

     'I didn't think he could actually get drunk.' A silly thought, that of a child who believed her big brother effortlessly capable of impossibilities simply because he was her brother. Of course he could get drunk. He was as human as anyone else who ascended, just as susceptible to intoxicants as his peers and his friends.

     His friends. She knows Ling Wen and Pei Ming were his friends the same way she knows the sun will rise each morning and set each day: that it is the truth, that it will continue to be the truth, no matter if there are times she fervently wishes it weren't. She knows, but she never thought of what that meant beyond the broader implications. Because she hadn't wanted to. Accepting the three of them were friends the same way she and M-- she and Xie Lian were-- are-- meant accepting that her brother saw more in them than just another opportunity. And the more Ling Wen talks, the more apparent it is that the bond shared between the three of them extended far beyond social pragmatism. She ought to find comfort in this. Instead she feels, inexplicably, as though she has just been stripped, beaten, spat upon, then tossed in front of the other goddess with little more than a threadbare sheet to cover herself with. Her throat bobs. Although she hardly has the stomach for it, she picks up her own cup and sips. The tea scalds her tongue, chastening it into forming words she would otherwise swallow.

     "I've gone a few times."

     What's left unsaid: that when she visits, she does so with mute lips and dry eyes. She's wept for him. Bitterly. Furiously. Wept with such force it left her hollowed out and dead-limbed, an echo of the broken girl in chains screaming for the one person she loved as much as her brother to please, please stop while his blood cooled on her cheek. But she has never cried while kneeling before his shrine. What a terrible sister she is. Perfect for the sort of man he turned out to be.

     "It was you and Pei Ming who arranged his funeral." There's no need to pose it as a question. Nobody else in all the three realms would mourn the loss of the Water Tyrant. Shi Qingxuan lowers her head in a customary bow. "You have my deepest thanks for that."

     When she lifts her gaze again, it snags on the hooked corners of Ling Wen's lips. Ge must have seen this expression on her countless times. He's never seemed so far away. She wonders-- hopes, even --if Ling Wen feels the same way.

      "I don't even know how the two of you met. He never told me." And not for lack of asking. Each time she did he would frown and answer her with a question of his own: do you think it's your right to know of everything your ge does with his own time? "Did you approach him, or did he come to you first?" Despite herself, strained but not insincere laughter bubbles up from the wellspring of fondness she has done her utmost not to draw from. "I just can't imagine it. He always expected everyone to defer to him."

[deiscension]

The problem with becoming important to calamity sqx is instead of saying she loves you she says things like 'when you die I'll lay beside your corpse in its grave so you won't have to rot away all alone' and thinks #yup that's an entirely appropriate thing to say.

[deiscension]

Y'know the more I think about any sort of post-canon scenario where SQX reunites with someone she knew while she was the Wind Master (or anything adjacent to that in non-canon verses) the more I realize as much as it opens opportunities for rekindling relationships and/or deepening bonds, it's just as likely-- perhaps even more likely --to open up a rift, assuming one doesn't already exist after she inevitably drops off the face of the earth and unintentionally ghosts everyone she knows. Because no matter how much she trusts your muse, no matter how much she loves them, no matter how much she wants someone to sit with her through her pain and let her cry into their chest and openly grieve for all she's lost and all she caused others to lose by not knowing about the heinous things her brother did to give her a life of comfort... she's not going to tell the truth about what happened.

She won't directly lie. But she won't be entirely forthright either. She's not ready to speak ill of the two people she feels she owes everything to, who she still feels beholden and indebted to, who she loved (still does) more than life itself. As angry and betrayed and aggrieved and isolated as she feels, admitting to any of that and letting someone else be angry and aggrieved on her behalf is terrifying. She wants to be comforted. She wants to apologize for disappearing. She wants to offer reassurance and support and be a friend because despite it all, she's still Shi Q.ingxuan, for better or worse. But she's going to actively make that even harder by redirecting all the fault and shame onto herself and effectively refusing the very same refuge she offered when she had the means to. She's effectively going to be saying I value the people who hurt and betrayed me over the people here with me now without understanding that's what she's doing.

[deiscension]

Uses her big gorgeous elegant one-in-a-million Wind Master fan to help cool things off and IMMEDIATELY blasts both of you ass backwards.

[deiscension]

[deiscension]

39﹕ sender is caught following receiver . / its not stalking hx is literally just looking out for her. or something!

(  @riwrite  / 100 NONVERBAL PROMPTS.  )

      ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── SHE CATCHES SIGHT of him while staggering down the last step of a derelict stairwell carved into the upper level streetway. This isn't the first time she has noticed him following her. It happens more and more often these days. If there is any specific pattern his coming and going adheres to, she han't found it yet. Neither has she found a plausible reason for why he seems so intent on acting the part of her second shadow.

      Backing away with slow, measured steps until she's broken line of sight would be the sensible thing to do. Turning tail and running the second most sensible. She couldn't do either even if she wanted to. She needs to give her overworked legs a break; she's already asked too much of them today, and there's still a ways to go before she reaches the encampment. Needs to regroup, to catch her breath, to calm her galloping heart before the heat stills it for her. All nigh impossible tasks when Black Water Sinking Ships looms like impending death little more than a stone's toss away. Slow breath in. She leans against the stone wall, sweat dripping from her brow and blurring her vision as she chances a glance upward. Slow breath out.

      Her maimed leg decides now is just as good a time as any to seize with cramps. Eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched to the point of aching, she unceremoniously slides to the ground, back chafing against the stone. She gropes along the back of her leg until she finds the spasming calf. Applies as much pressure as she can manage. This, she's come to realize, is her body's way of begging her to work odd jobs that are less labor intensive. It's always begging something of her.

      As soon as the worst of it passes, her eyes fly back open. She's not sure which will be worse: if he's moved closer, or if he's disappeared altogether. She needn't have worried at all.

      He hasn't moved an inch. His expression hasn't changed. He does nothing but watch from atop the narrow passageway.

      Something just shy of humiliation smarts in the corners of her eyes, in the divots just beneath her eyebrows. He has seen her heaving, retching, screaming her throat raw, covered in the filth that was once her brother, all but choking on her own worthless tears. Somehow, this is worse than any of that. What, exactly, is he getting out of this?

      Shi Qingxuan blinks. The image of him half swallowed by sunset burns on the back of her eyelids. He's still there. Watching. Always watching.

      Because he enjoys seeing her live and suffer.

      There could be more to it. Something she's missing. Maybe. Maybe not, no matter how much she wishes otherwise. But I loved you. I still do. Do you know that? Of course he knows that; it's one of the sins he's punished her for. All at once she goes limp, tension ferried away by a shaky exhale.

      "Sunset means it's time for everyone to go home," she hears herself say, voice shying away from its characteristic buoyancy. Feels her cracked lips wobble into a smile she imagines must look ridiculous on her reddend, sweat-streaked face. "Don't let this beggar stop you, ha-ha! They'll stay out of the way."

[raesource]

questions only sentence starters

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .

who . . .

“ Who are you? ”

“ Who do you serve? ”

“ Who taught you that? ”

“ Who’s really in control here? ”

“ Who are you running from? ”

“ Who did this to you? ”

“ Who’s coming for us? ”

“ Who do you think I am? ”

“ Who else knows about this? ”

“ Who are you trying to protect? ”

what . . .

“ What are you? ”

“ What do you want from me? ”

“ What are you hiding? ”

“ What were you planning to do? ”

“ What just happened? ”

“ What did you see back there? ”

“ What did you promise them? ”

“ What happens if I don’t let you go? ”

“ What are the rules I’m not supposed to break? ”

“ What happens after the portal closes? ”

where . . .

“ Where did you come from? ”

“ Where are we? ”

“ Where are you going? ”

“ Where were you when it happened? ”

“ Where does this path lead? ”

“ Where did you get that scar? ”

“ Where is everyone else? ”

“ Where should I stand? ”

“ Where did you put the body? ”

“ Where were you hiding all this time? ”

when . . .

“ When did this start? ”

“ When were you going to tell me? ”

“ When was the last time you felt safe? ”

“ When do we leave? ”

“ When did you stop trusting me? ”

“ When does this end? ”

“ When did you realise the truth? ”

“ When do things go wrong? ”

“ When did you choose this path? ”

“ When will you look at me and be honest? ”

how . . .

“ How long have you been watching me? ”

“ How did you survive? ”

“ How much do you remember? ”

“ How are you this calm right now? ”

“ How bad is it? ”

“ How did you know my name? ”

“ How far are you willing to go? ”

“ How many lies have you told me? ”

“ How do you live with this? ”

“ How are we supposed to fix this? ”

are . . .

“ Are you human? ”

“ Are you okay? ”

“ Are you lying to me right now? ”

“ Are you scared? ”

“ Are you tired? ”

“ Are you hiding something? ”

“ Are you bound by oath or by magic? ”

“ Are you trying to start a fight? ”

“ Are you always this dramatic? ”

“ Are you going to explain or just stare? ”

do . . .

“ Do you trust me? ”

“ Do you remember your name? ”

“ Do you remember me? ”

“ Do you miss them? ”

“ Do you always talk this much? ”

“ Do you have any idea what you just did? ”

“ Do you ever sleep? ”

“ Do you want me to stay? ”

“ Do you think I’m stupid? ”

“ Do you believe in fate? ”

have . . .

“ Have you eaten yet? ”

“ Have we met before? ”

“ Have you been here long? ”

“ Have you done this before? ”

“ Have you ever killed someone? ”

“ Have you been lying to me? ”

“ Have you lost anyone? ”

“ Have you forgiven yourself? ”

“ Have you always been like this? ”

“ Have you already chosen a side? ”

is . . .

“ Is this place real? ”

“ Is something bothering you? ”

“ Is that weapon even legal here? ”

“ Is this your idea of a joke? ”

“ Is this your way of flirting? ”

“ Is someone watching us? ”

“ Is it supposed to hurt like this? ”

“ Is there a way out? ”

“ Is this what you wanted? ”

“ Is it too late to turn back? ”

can . . .

“ Can I ask you a weird question? ”

“ Can you hear that? ”

“ Can I trust you? ”

“ Can you keep a secret? ”

“ Can we slow down? ”

“ Can you help me bury a body? ”

“ Can you look at me? ”

“ Can we talk about what happened? ”

“ Can you stop pretending? ”

“ Can you promise me something? ”

will . . .

“ Will you stay with me? ”

“ Will you tell me the truth? ”

“ Will this ever end? ”

“ Will you protect me? ”

“ Will they come back for us? ”

“ Will you remember me? ”

“ Will you choose a side? ”

“ Will you regret this? ”

“ Will you still look at me the same way? ”

“ Will you stop me if I’m wrong? ”

should . . .

“ Should I be worried? ”

“ Should we be running? ”

“ Should I follow you? ”

“ Should I be afraid of you? ”

“ Should we pretend this never happened? ”

“ Should I stay or go? ”

“ Should I believe you? ”

“ Should I be honest with you? ”

“ Should we trust them? ”

“ Should I have come here? ”

would . . .

“ Would you do it again? ”

“ Would you lie to protect me? ”

“ Would this have been different if I had stayed? ”

“ Would you really let me die? ”

“ Would you have saved them instead? ”

“ Would you still care if you knew the truth? ”

“ Would you leave if I asked? ”

“ Would this hurt less if I understood? ”

“ Would you forgive me? ”

“ Would you choose me this time? ”

could . . .

“ Could you survive without me? ”

“ Could this world exist without you? ”

“ Could this get any worse? ”

“ Could you teach me how to do that? ”

“ Could you be wrong? ”

“ Could you be lying to yourself? ”

“ Could you forgive them? ”

“ Could this be a trap? ”

“ Could you handle the truth if I told you? ”

“ Could you live with the consequences? ”

[deiscension]

@voidfragments

the proper young cultivator in question most certainly does not startle at the sudden unexpected voice of a calamity by his ear, no sir, he is as composed as ever! nevertheless, he takes a steadying breath before turning to face her, placid smile plastered across his face. "why, yes, actually. are you volunteering?"

   ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── "DO YOU TALK to all your friends that way? You're not going to keep many around if you threaten to kill them all the time," she scolds with an exaggerated huff, shifting from a windswept apparition into the appearance of a nondescript wanderer. Within seconds, her pace matches his as though the two have been walking together the whole time.

  "Well then, let's get to work! What's your selection criteria? And you can't say I am again." Her smile stretches, pearly whites and wound-pink gums flashing in the sunlight filtering through the treetops. "You need more experience under your belt before you even think of getting cute with me like that. What's the highest ranking ghost you've dealt with, anyway?"

[oathstruck]

"Mornin' sleepin' beauty. Ya looked so tuckered out last night, I didn't have th'heart t'wake ya up. I got breakfast goin', if yer hungry or anythin'."

Tomoko leans on the doorway to the guest room, a faint smile on her face. Shi Qingxuan had come over to her spot to just hang out, but the time passed so quickly that she'd fallen asleep on the couch while they were in the middle of a gaming session. Still, she's a generous host and she takes care of her friends.

@deiscension liked for a starter!

[deiscension]

     ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── THE TASTE OF sleep lingers thick and mossy on the back of Shi Qingxuan's teeth, subtle tang of liquor an explanation for the dull throb at the base of her skull. It takes several rapid blinks for her to recognize where she is, who she's with. As soon as her thoughts come to a semblance of order, her face lights up with the sort of grin most people reserve for reuniting with a loved one after longterm separation.

     "Aw, I don't get the full princess treatment where you bring me breakfast in bed?" Shi Qingxuan laughs, wiggling out from beneath the bedding and punctuating her tease with a yawn. "Want help in the kitchen? Can't say I'm a 5-star chef, but I do know how to wash dishes."

     Bubbly humor bursts when she notices her phone on the bedside table, screen down and likely with sound turned off. Her palms prickle with cold sweat. She'd purposely kept it on silent or entirely off her person since she'd left home upwards of three days ago. But that's fine. She's living in the moment! And that's a good thing. She should feel good about it. Her gaze flashes towards Tomoko, then to a nondescript point on the wall that has suddenly become nothing short of infatuating.

     "...You didn't get any unexpected calls last night, did you? It's just, my brother-- he's got a tendency to get a little dramatic when he decides to check in with me and I don't answer for a while. Residual overprotectiveness from when I was little, ha-ha! Um..."

[drsweety303-deactivated20240202]

Oh... Haha... I get it. Now I'm flop... I see how it is. Well. It was nice. *shows my pussy 1 last time*

[riwrite]

@deiscension.

   " i don't deserve to be yuri... not after everything. "

[deiscension]

     ⌜ 风. ⌟ ▌ ── "...He-jie..."

     ...

      ....

           ....

     "What's yuri?"

[weltenwellen]

My Summer of Crisis Trisha Low