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@cupidinorum
my comic for terrible comic day 2026

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I think Kim dokja's character doesn't actually fit into being an omega. Parenting does not come naturally to him. Instead I think he fits either into being a beta (a nobody that smoothly slides into the background), or an alpha (a deconstruct of the power fantasy)
more fan of the alpha-story
orv poem for the reader of all time
I- I don't think I should say this but I feel like Cheong myeong found a friend in Baek cheon like he was with Tang Bo, of course, both are different, yet, a friend is a friend.
I can imagine all three of them with their distinct personality goofing together if they happened to be in the same timeline. The only catch, baek cheon was in the Southern sect and imagining his dynamics with a Cheong myeong having special encounters with his sect, might have a difference in Baek cheon's relationship progression.
The thought also differs with how Cheong myeong perceives his sect members, hence why baek cheon is a friend figure? Others can be his descendants, disciples, someone who resembles people from his memories but not baek cheon. Yes, he compared him to his elder once but reading in the long run, baek cheon managed to create an impact to remember him as who he is. Not that Cheong myeong ever forgot.
okay so this is kinda like a precurser to my other poem 'the old taoist', this too is about tangcheong, but this time from tb's pov as hes dying in cm's arms, whereas the old taoist is set shortly before the final battle with magyo
the Dark Saint
I have swallowed a poison,
but it's one I cannot cure.
Every poison I have taken
before, I could cure.
So why can't I cure yours?
I am a master of Poisons,
yet the venom you spewed,
is much too much for me.
It harms my heart, it hurts
my gut. Your potent poison
has seeped into my soul.
I have swallowed a poison
you unwittingly created.
I'm glad we spent our days
as one. Our hands entwined,
our gazes focussed together.
In our next life, perhaps,
we can find each other again.
And then together we can watch
as the plums blossom on the mountain.
I am sorry I left before you,
I just pray you can continue.
Go forth and kill those Demons.
Kill for you. And for me.

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Story time!
I need to read a fic where, after Chung Myung dies, he goes up to heaven or wherever and just chills will everyone in death. He's up there for a hundred years getting to live his post-war life with Tang Bo as they watch Earth from above, and then he's either knocked out and wakes up in the body of Sam Cho as usual or is dragged down to possess the body like Wei Wuxian.
The whole story is the same except for the fact that, while dead, both Chung Myung and Tang Bo figure out that spirits can interact a little bit with the living realm so Tang Bo ends up following Chung Myung around, pranking both him and everyone else around Chung Myung by knocking stuff over or something (involving knives, I'm sure). Maybe if Chung Myung is just possessing the body of Cho Sam, he can still actually see Tang Bo.
Idk, there's probably a lot someone could do with that, BUT IF ANYONE KNOWS A FIC LIKE THIS OR IS WILLING TO WRITE IT, BLESS YOU AND PLEASE LMK
YESSSS I NEED THIS TOOOOOO
so i wrote a poem about tangcheong a while ago (like five months ago 💀💀), before i read biga's side story on them meeting, so some things are wrong i now know, but i rly js wanted to share it here cus im quite happy w it 😅
also im a cm top sue me
also my first time posting my own work eekkkk
The old Taoist
Our youth may be long gone,
but the moon has remained the same.
Although we've changed a lot,
the earth around us is ever stagnant.
The stream is still where it was
a thousand years ago.
Although we're greying now,
and our beards nearly touched the ground,
our martial bones remained unfazed.
We met as rivals in the woods,
we squabbled over fame and glory,
now I'll miss your glowing spark.
Your Way was strong, as was it firm.
Now it guides few to their fate.
And although we may have met with blades,
now we share our drinks.
Our youth may be long gone,
but the moon has remained the same.
Though I doubt you'll see,
with your distant eyes.
The mountains are grey with mist,
shedding tears at your demise.
I feel lost without you
by my side. With you my yin has gone.
Do you like the spirit I pour you?
I can't afford much more.
All I can do, is sit next to you.
Looking, lonely, at the moon.
“It was a quiet way -- ...”
by Emily Dickinson
It was a quiet way — He asked if I was his — I made no answer of the Tongue But answer of the Eyes — And then He bore me on Before this mortal noise With swiftness, as of Chariots And distance, as of Wheels. This World did drop away As Acres from the feet Of one that leaneth from Balloon Upon an Ether street. The Gulf behind was not, The Continents were new — Eternity it was before Eternity was due. No Seasons were to us — It was not Night nor Morn — But Sunrise stopped upon the place And fastened it in Dawn.
emily dickinson writes so nicely ToT
pity of the stanza breaks tho :((
tysm for sharinggg 🫶🫶🫶

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And all of this at once.