thefalloficarus



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    "I'm not going to die of spoiled blood," Zhou Zishu groans, "Good heavens, Lao Wen ah."

    "Indeed not! I won't let you," Wen Kexing agrees, and threads the needle. They fall silent as he stitches the wound closed. He can feel Zhou Zishu's eyes on his face, but he doesn't dare look up to meet his gaze; he doesn't want to prick him by accident. No, Zhou Zishu will not die of spoiled blood.

    --

    Evening, night, and morning at Four Seasons Manor.

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    15 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Shen Qingqiu breaches the surface. The sky is clear and blue; the air, as he excavates his torso, sits up, and allows himself to begin breathing, is fresh and crisp; the young man sitting patiently next to Shen Qingqiu's burial site is calm and collected.

    Shen Qingqiu squawks at the sight of him. "You—what—?!”

    The young man gazes placidly at him, as if it's an everyday occurrence for strange men to pop up out of the ground. "Greetings to Immortal Master Shen," he says.

    [or: Zhuzhi-Lang is capable of adding together two (Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom) plus two (very public death) to equal four (Plantzun).]

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    28 Dec 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “If we are in the ghost realm, then we should head towards Ghost City. I heard that as long as you’re not looking to cause trouble, the lord there will help those who have wandered in by accident.” San Lang suggested.

    Brow furrowing, Xie Lian pressed his hand to his chin. “The lord of Ghost City should be a powerful ghost king. Would he really help us?”

    Or, Hua Cheng kidnaps Xie Lian in the red maple forest.

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    21 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 15

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    A silly little string of fake reddit posts commenting on the donghua episodes, created for Spaced Out Puffin's discord server.
    Check out Puffin's TGCF reactions at https://www.youtube.com/@SpacedOutPuffin!

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    21 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shadow Milk Cookie lunges, fury incarnate, but Pure Vanilla is ready. He doesn’t raise his staff. Doesn’t cast. Doesn’t defend.

    He simply steps forward. And wraps his arms around him. Not in battle.

    In embrace.

    Shadow Milk freezes. His forehead presses to Pure Vanilla’s collarbone. Not gently. Not willingly. But needfully.

    “Don’t say you forgive me,” he says, voice ruined. “Don’t you dare.”

    “I’m not,” Pure Vanilla replies. “Not until you're ready to hear it.”

    The candles crackle. The walls hum. But in the center of the room, something quiet unfolds.

    Not peace. Not yet.

    But the possibility of it.

    And Shadow Milk Cookie—terrible and lonely and terribly alive—lets himself be held. Just for a moment. Just until the trembling stops.

    How cruel, then, how unthinkably cruel, that this moment must end.

    Because in three months’ time, he will be nothing.

    In three months’ time, his name will be only used in past tense.

    And Pure Vanilla Cookie will stand alone beneath the candied stars, cradling a broken body.

    Just to do it all over again. 

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    22 Nov 2025

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