#a sea of selfishness and triviality

[wanderinthedeep]

to all the Black Friday babes, I wish you good luck, or barring that, a swift and painless death.

[gauloiseblue]

I don't care if you don't want me / I'm yours right now

(Price × Reader)

[+18 | Warning: dub-con, drug use (sex pollen), light choking, and a dash of breeding kink]

There he goes again, ricochets between virtue and desire.

"You're too good for me."

"Don't get me wrong, love. You're beautiful."

"But I'm just an old man, I'll bore you to death."

"As if I care." You retorted, "You know me, John. Don't make this difficult for us."

"It's for your own good, (Name)." He smiled, "Someday you'll understand."

You grit your teeth, as you sense his mind is lost in the sea of uncertainty.

It's not a secret that the two of you want each other, just as the skin closing itself over the cut. But his selfishness keeps tearing it apart, leaving a gaping wound between you and him.

You wouldn't care if he didn't love you, but deep in his heart, he did. He still does. And that drives you mad, because there's no reason for him to push you away. Yes, you might come from a different background, but you share the same view as him.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" You tilted your head, "You said that the government didn't care about trivial things." You leaned forward, as you spoke in a lower tone, "Unless you've already suspected their involvement in this."

He chuckled at you, as he rubbed the nape of his neck. "You know me too well, (Name). It scares me sometimes."

Still, it wasn't enough, as if reading each other's minds isn't something intimate. Something that could only be achieved at the expense of vulnerability. You knew he had read your thoughts, and he knew you've peered into his heart, but he stood there, unmoving, while you begged him to come closer.

You wished you could reach out to him, stretching your hands toward him, but your arms were tied, and your feet planted to the ground. You were bound by the principles, and your inability to hold him pushed you to the point of frustration.

Perhaps it's just a game of play pretend, or maybe it's true that you're not good enough for him. Not smart enough, not pretty enough, and not meek enough. But you weren't born to be a lamb—a creature so sweet, and lovesome. A pretty thing that could put a smile on his face, and a poison in your heart.

When he looked at the other women, your chest would tightened, as bitter tears stung your eyes. It blinded you, as you walked away from the place. Not knowing that his gaze would linger on the door for a while.

This ugly side of you would grow, consuming the trust that you've built for him. You no longer found the use of moral restraint, since it didn't help you get what you wanted.

By the time you saw the unattended vial on the table, it was already too late.

You were never a saint, but you wouldn't be tempted by the devil either. Until Price came to you. Just like John the Baptist, his fate was sealed the moment he refused your kiss. You never wished to be Herod's daughter, but he left you with no choice.

If he wouldn't give you the answer, you'd just have to take it by yourself.

When he downed the whole glass of water you gave him, you simply waited. You waited, until his breath turned heavy, and his stare burned a hole in you.

"What'd you put in the drink?" He hissed.

"Nothing." You replied, "Just a truth serum."

"A truth serum?" He snarled, as he stood up and grabbed you by the collar, "Let me ask you once again. What did you put in my drink?"

"It's called a truth serum," You argued while you glared at him, "Because it'll tell me exactly how you feel about me."

"You foolish girl—"

You didn't have the chance to spat, as he shoved you to the nearest surface. The papers on the table flung down when he pushes everything away, before pressing you down with a kiss.

It's rough and stifling, as he leaves you with no room for breathing. You struggle to hold him off with your hands, trying to slow him down. But your attempt causes him to grunt, before he yanks them away from his chest.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" He growled into your ear, "You want me to ravage you like an animal, don't you? Is that what you really want?"

He wraps his fingers around your throat, rendering your speech into gibberish mess.

"You were wrong about me, sweetheart." He retorted, as he pressed his hip against your clothed core, "I might admire strong women in the field, but if I were a husband, I want my wife to be at home, taking care of our children." He dragged his grip up, and your mouth snapped open as you shouted in pain. "And if you were to be my wife, I'd knock you up every night. Because that's the only way to keep a woman like you by my side."

He chuckles when he feels you shudder under him. He lets go of your jaw, before slipping his hand beneath your pants. Your eyes widen, as he slips his finger between your folds.

"You're wet already?" He mocked, as he rubbed circles on your clit, "I barely even touched you."

"John—" You gasped when he put a pressure against the little bud, "Wait—"

It wasn't your intention to back down, moreover getting a cold feet, but his grasp on your hands tightened, to the point that you thought your bones would snap. You cry out, as you fail to tell him the other choice for the second time.

Though you failed to do it verbally, he soon found it out when a small flacon fell from your pocket.

He brings it up as he inspects the liquid inside, before he murmurs, "It's the antidote, isn't it?" He doesn't need to see how your face changes to confirm his suspicion, "I knew you'd bring one along, you're such a thoughtful girl."

You watch him in shock when he pulls the lid off with his teeth, before pouring out the content to the floor.

"But we won't need it anymore," He sneered as he tossed the bottle aside, "Since I'm not stopping any time soon."

[spacelazarwolf]

I keep seeing posts claiming Israel’s UN representatives are wearing gold Star of David patches at meetings now? I’m inherently suspicious that it’s misinformation tho

this is actually true.

context: gilad erdan, a representative of israel to the united nations, pinned a yellow star of david on his jacket that reads "never again" in honor of the people killed in the october 7th massacre, saying he will wear the badge until the massacre is condemned by the un security council. erdan is opposed to a ceasefire.

response: erdan's actions and comments have been solidly condemned by many in israel, including government officials.

"Erdan thinks more about the Likud party primaries than about Israel's political and diplomatic efforts," one senior official told Haaretz. “We always attack other countries when they manipulate the memory of the Holocaust, and here comes the Israeli ambassador and does the same on the most central stage of world diplomacy.” He went on to say that Erdan had been acting independently of the rest of the governmental apparatus since the beginning of the war. "The feeling is that there is a person there who does what he wants and is not a partner in our overall effort." Another senior official in the ministry said that Erdan “acts on his own and we are very angry with him. These messages are completely contrary to our policy. He did not consult with anyone. He is deeply involved in a political campaign and is taking advantage of his position as Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations to advance his personal interests.”

Yad Vashem chairman Dani Dayan also slammed Erdan's act, saying it "disgraces both Holocaust victims and Israel." "The yellow star symbolizes the Jewish people's helplessness and the Jews being at the mercy of others. Today we have an independent state and a strong army. We are the masters of our fate. Today we shall wear a blue-white flag, not a yellow star."

In response to Erdan's move, Avi Dabush, a Sderot local who survived the October 7 slaughter, wrote: "What a disgrace. There is a cap. As a survivor who waited for the army for 8 hours in a failure that destroyed everything we knew and thought about the country, I refuse to participate in this discussion. We are not Holocaust survivors. We rose from this inferno and will rise again. The ability to see everything that occurs to us solely through the lens of the Holocaust is part of the issue, not the solution."

(source)

important things to keep in mind: - erdan is the grandson of holocaust survivors, so while many have condemned his statements as offensive, it is likely they are not entirely selfish or politically motivated. - erdan is a member of the likud party, which is quickly losing popularity in israel and has a history of fraud and corruption. it is not a 1:1 comparison, but the....vibes are similar to that of trump's presidency.

my takeaway: personally, i agree that his statements were offensive. i think they trivialize a catastrophic event in jewish history and twist jewish pain and trauma to justify horrific levels of violence. even taking him in the best faith possible, that he truly is worried for the safety of the jewish people, that he's worried hamas will succeed in their mission of driving all jews into the sea, the reality is that bombing innocent civilians in gaza is not only doing nothing to get hamas out of power but is actively destroying the safety of jews both in israel and in the diaspora.

i also worry that a lot of gentiles are going to use this as an invitation to engage in even more softcore holocaust denial and holocaust inversion, block any soft of conversation about how the holocaust shaped the modern state of israel and modern jewish identity, and just generally be really really horrible. my hope is that there are more people who will see this for what it is, which is an idiot politician representing a crumbling government grasping at straws.

[seraphiism]

❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ( 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢 ) ;

( AT THE END AS AT THE START, & THROUGH ALL THE IN-BETWEENS, I LOVE YOU )

characters : xiao / alhaitham / shenhe / kazuha / zhongli fandom : genshin impact quote cr : amal el-mohtar and max gladstone a/n : part 1 of 4! each character is limited to 150 words.

↬ xiao ࿐ ࿔

a yaksha knows what it is like to be needed, redemption sought upon self-sacrifice and approaching insanity. yes, xiao knows the feeling of being needed, but not the feeling of being wanted. mortal trivialities are not meant for intrigue, so he dismisses the thought.

it is when you first speak his name that he wonders -- it is merciless : the shift in gentle tones, the way your hands tremble, anxious at the selfish request. because you truly do not need anything, but there is something in the heart that desires him so.

he makes his presence known, notes how you brighten at the mere sight of him. it is then that he feels his pulse quicken, feels a semblance of home.

yes, xiao knows what it's like to be needed, he thinks, the burden of karmic debt soothed by another's love, and he knows what it is like to be wanted.

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

alhaitham does not know of the tenderness that resides in a seemingly dormant heart, endeavors found in all things factual. so it is a strange phenomenon, as said by a certain architect, that he has sworn himself to another, expressed loyalty in ways unseen by most. he does not recognize ardor, not quite -- it is a foreign stranger in his life, but one he is willing to welcome.

"read to me?"

your head rests against his chest, arm draped over his waist. book in hand, he gives you a questioning look-- one you return with an exhausted smile.

"it'll bore you, unless that's how you intend to fall asleep."

"that's okay." you fight back a yawn, giving into fatigue. "i just like listening to your voice."

"you subject yourself to strange things."

"you like it."

he chuckles, but pulls the warm covers over your close figures.

"do i? i wonder."

↬ shenhe ࿐ ࿔

cursed are those abandoned, innocence tarnished by deceit and insanity. a lone soul bound by red ropes and fate alike, shenhe bores a cold rage ; how it drowns in waves, struggles to stay afloat. but it is not only anger that remains at sea, but joy and sorrow. she was once devoid of such things, though they have bloomed so wonderfully in the knowing of you.

in the knowing of you, shenhe feels a longing that brings uncertainty and comfort. but she is naive to the bonds of mortals, and so she carries it forth without knowing it is love.

she will learn of it, eventually, and it will be beautiful. for now, she takes your hand, presses a kiss against your knuckles, and rests it against a beating heart. how wildly it rings in her ears, and surely she knows that this is the beginning of a future cherished.

↬ kazuha ࿐ ࿔

kazuha's soul belongs in many places : the sky, the shore, and the sea. how it thrives in the presence of all, but it is with you that it yearns the most. how silly, he thinks, this lovesickness he's given into entirely.

the rain pours upon his arrival, but it is not an unwanted greeting. he watches, nostalgic, a soft melancholy woven into his smile as the kind winds guide brilliant red maple leaves. you stand at his side, your hand in his, feel how he squeezes it in hope and quiet grief.

nature knows his heart all too well, just as you do. you laugh when a leaf lands in his hair, turns his smile into one of amusement as you remove it delicately.

"thank you."

you do not let go of the maple leaf, knowing he will keep it for his travels as remembrance of this moment you share.

↬ zhongli ࿐ ࿔

it is difficult, morax finds, to survive. even time cannot heal the deepest of wounds, and the burdens of leading humanity have hurt him so. he no longer has nightmares of battles won and lost, but he wonders-- did he ever truly win? to witness bloodshed, to cause bloodshed, knowing he lost his allies--

it is difficult, zhongli thinks, to survive.

the days pass quickly; even in a life freed from loosened chains of godhood, he wonders if he will ever adapt. from amber to embers, he closes his eyes, the music a welcome distraction as he focuses on the feeling of your body against his. you sway together, movements slow as you surrender to the depths of time.

yes, it is difficult to survive. but perhaps in this brave new world, he muses, resting his forehead against yours, he will remember once more what it means to live again.

[junosmindpalace]

Hi I'm wondering if your requests are open but can I request a scenario with Ryusui who is constantly rejected by the reader ? & thank you ! XD

okay i absolutely adored this request and went in with the intention of trying to write comedy and accidentally make it slightly angsty??!!! (happy ending though i promise.) admittedly i found this surprisingly challenging to write- i've said before that i'm not very confident with my characterization of ryusui and that's probably pretty evident in this oneshot, but nevertheless i hope you still enjoy!

synopsis: he desires everything, including you--and it makes you nervous.

warnings: manga spoilers!! beware, as i said some angst but happy ending :)

word count: 2.2k

note: it's almost 2am and i reeeallly wanted to get this out so its poorly edited as always. might come back later with a fresh mind

You didn’t know what it would take to get Ryusui off your back.

Before the two of you became friends, you were certain that Ryusui Nanami was one of the most insufferable people you’ve ever met, always on about desire this and desire that. His arrogance infuriated you. ‘How is anyone supposed to work with this guy?’ you would think to yourself. Over time however, you realized that beneath his selfish and sometimes harsh exterior, Ryusui is a caring guy with a lot of ambition and determination who genuinely loves people and what the world has to offer. In some ways, you could relate to his way of thinking, but it didn’t make his overbearing desires and booming voice any less irritating.

The two of you eventually became decent friends through the work you put into building the Perseus, and even closer friends through your adventures together with the rest of the crew. But something you found strange about your relationship with Ryusui was that, even though you disliked him quite a bit when the two of you were mere strangers, he’s always liked you. 

This shouldn’t be too weird; as said, Ryusui loves people. No matter who they are or how long he’s known them, Ryusui can always find something to like about someone, which you couldn’t help but respect about him from the beginning. But Ryusui always presented his desires for a person in a way that was seen as admiration and awe of them. While he presented his desire to want you in this way as well, he later also started presenting his desire for you in a romantic way you observed he didn’t desire anyone else. 

At some point, Ryusui Nanami realized that he desired you as a romantic partner. What caught you off guard one day was the fact that he told you. 

This weird proclamation came from him when you confronted his bold and “special” treatment toward you. He often offered you heaps of Drago for the most trivial things you did, claiming they were worthy of the money he bestowed upon you. He encouraged you to use the money to buy an outfit you had eyed from Senku’s department store or some cotton candy, occasionally even making purchases for you. He’d invite you to bask in his luxuries together, setting up a chair for you beside him with members of the Kingdom of Science feeding and cooling you down after a hard day's work. If there was something you had mentioned you wanted, or hell, even liked or loved, Ryusui would take a mental note of it and look for ways to obtain it. Flowers by a hillside you thought were pretty? A bouquet will show up by your tent. Mumbling out loud about how you could use some fresh tools? An assortment of polished ones will be gifted to you by Ryusui himself. You were confused and taken aback by the sudden affection, and blunt as ever, Ryusui responded “In truth, Y/N, I desire you as my partner, and I want you by my side!”

Ryusui desires the Earth, heavens and seas. He seemingly wants every conceivable item, skill and trait, and he isn’t shy about these bold desires; he never has been. So even though this proclamation was no different than the rest, it still surprised you just the same. He wanted you as a partner? 

And so that’s what led to your current dilemma: you didn’t know what it would take to get Ryusui off your back. 

You’ve heard from Minami about how Ryusui was rarely seen without the company of a beautiful girl. He was constantly around them and dubbed a playboy by the media before the petrification. No way he’s loyal. 

“What can I tell you; I love everyone! But in this day and age, I love you, and only you--romantically.”

Sure, you two knew each other a fair amount, but you’ve still only just met. Plus, you have an important mission ahead of the two of you. Won’t a relationship interfere with that?

“Then let me get to know you more, Y/N. I want you to be mine. No journey or grueling mission will change that.” 

And when Ryusui Nanami desires something, he’s determined to obtain it or make it come to fruition. But you were still reluctant, and so you turned him down.

Every attempt at flirting was shut down, every date offer was rejected, and gifts were either politely returned or hesitantly kept because of Ryusui's insistence. All these failures would surely have the average person give it up and get over the rejection. But this was Ryusui Nanami, and he was confident that you just needed time to come around. 

With the help of Francois, Ryusui went full out trying to win you over. He asked Francois to make you your favorite foods, he complimented you frequently, whether it was your appearance, a thought you shared or something you did, and in small ways looked after you.

There were many times when you really were in awe of him. He always did his best to look out for you, in and out battle, sometimes even preventing you from sustaining major injuries or helping you recuperate after you take on too much work.

But then he’d open his mouth and say something like “after all this is done, we should wind down in my quarters” and you’d scoff and move away from him while he'd either laugh or stare at you with a small frown. When you’re struggling with something, he’s always quick to be the first one to come to your aid, and yeah, you notice how he takes every chance he gets to stand obnoxiously close to you.

However, Ryusui never takes his antics too far. As soon as you shoot him a dirty look, he's inches away from you and putting his hands up in mock surrender. He’s not focusing all his attention on trying to win you over; after all, you two are a part of the Perseus crew for good reason. But any chance Ryusui gets to charm you, he’ll take. 

-

“I clean up nice, am I wrong, Y/N?” 

When it came down to deciding what route to take to America, while you understood the realistic approach Ryusui wanted to take, you agreed with Senku’s more logical plan of action. What you didn’t expect was a game of poker to be initiated in order to decide who’s plan will be executed. 

“I’m hurt you’re siding with Senku on this one, but you’ll thank me for saving you from the burden of Senku’s route once I win.” Ryusui seemed to have the utmost confidence that he’d reign victorious with Gen Asagiri, the master of trickery and deceit, on his side, but you had to suppress your smile when his jaw dropped as Kohaku seated herself beside Senku. With Kohaku’s sharp eyes, she’d be able to spot and put a stop to any dirty moves Gen tries to pull. A tense game ensued, and your gaze shifted between eyeing Ryusui and Gen’s wicked grins and Senku and Kohaku’s skeptical expressions. In the end, as you had predicted, Senku had won the game, which meant that his plan would be put to action. As cheers erupted from the crew watching and money was tossed around in the air from the bets made beforehand, Ryusui reluctantly turned his head toward you, and you had to muffle your laughter behind your hand upon seeing his dumbfounded expression as you rolled your eyes and left the riot.

You were surprised to hear that Ryusui’s shock and disappointment wore off quick after revealing that he and Francois had opened a casino for the entire crew to enjoy, which didn’t sound awful to you. The formal attire worn while playing poker inspired you to dress up a little for a fun night with your friends. How long had it been since you’ve had some modern fun? 

You sat by Bar Francois in formal wear that you and a couple members of the crew had bought from Yuzuriha before you left for your trip, laughing at the retelling of fond memories from the pre-petrification world and sipping on your drink every once in a while. It was the most calm and at home you felt in a long while, and you were silently grateful to the eccentric captain for the work he put into making the casino. When the conversation died down a little, Nikki, who was one of the people you had talked to about your situation with the sailor, shifted her gaze toward someone in the middle of the room. “Uh oh. Lover boy looks like he wants to make a move.” 

Your eyes followed Nikki’s gaze and you were suddenly met with Ryusui’s widened brown ones shining under the moonlight. For a moment, there was no movement from either one of you, but then Ryusui swallowed and made a slow beeline for you. Nikki quickly turned away when you nudged her for the inappropriate nickname. “Look, I completely understand why you keep turning him down but…who knows. Maybe a date won’t be so bad.”

And with that, she excused herself and walked off. 

-

Ryusui had asked if the two of you could roam around the ship, away from everyone else, and you agreed, the exhaustion from the eventful night slowly catching up to you. Ryusui’s hands were clasped behind his back as he made conservation, taking into account your exhaustion and making sure you didn’t need to give him any lengthy responses to any of his comments or questions. 

Throughout the slightly one-sided conversation, Ryusui teased and flirted, as he always managed to do with you, and as you picked up on each charm attempt, you thought back to what Nikki had told you earlier that evening. “Maybe a date wouldn’t be so bad…”

“I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself in the casino. You look beautiful, as you always do, but seeing you in formal attire was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps next time you dress up will be for a date in my quarters?” 

You sighed deeply. This offer was unlike so many others Ryusui made. It wasn’t upfront and in your face, it wasn’t loud or grand. Hell, it almost seemed shy or- no- hopeful. You were staring down at Ryusui’s shoes, the confliction you felt evident on your face. Suddenly, you couldn’t hear the heels of Ryusui’s shoes clicking against the wooden floor as he walked alongside you. You stopped and turned around to see the captain with his head down. 

“Ryusui, I…” 

“I’m…sorry if I’ve forced you into a corner, Y/N. I never meant for my persistence to be overwhelming, I guess I didn’t expect to like you this much.” He laughed humourlessly staring at the ground, his hands still behind his back. You couldn’t find the words to consolidate him. You had never seen him so down.

But then he suddenly turned his head to look up at you and slowly started approaching you.

“Just one chance, Y/N,” one step. Two.

“I promise you,” another step.

“I won’t be wasting your time.”

He took one final step so he was standing directly in front of you. For a second, all the two of you did, could do, was stare at each other, your tired eyes examining Ryusui’s glimmering, hopeful ones. And then, without breaking eye contact, Ryusui pulls out a small bouquet of flowers. Ones you had seen on Treasure Island, which seemed to be preserved surprisingly well. You think you remember commenting on their beauty on one of your expeditions.

Up until tonight, Ryusui’s gestures have never been something you thought too deeply about; at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself. But now, Ryusui has confronted you with a billion percent seriousness. Maybe it was something about his flamboyant nature that made you uneasy and reluctant to even consider the possibility of being something more with him. Maybe it’s why you shoved down your thoughts and feelings, let your fears surface and become easy ways to excuse yourself. After all, you had plenty of those with the circumstances you two were in. 

Was he getting discouraged? Would this be his final attempt at winning you over? Knowing Ryusui, probably not. He seemed determined, but looking closer you could see his shoulders sagging, the grip on the flowers loose, as if he was sad. His face didn’t carry his usual boyish grin or dazzling smile. Only furrowed brows and a small frown. Admittedly, all you could really think was ‘is he serious?’ and stare in confusion. 

Ryusui’s eyes slowly trailed down to the flowers, and a dull ache spread over your heart started upon seeing his face slowly contort into one of disappointment. Maybe a date wouldn’t be so bad. 

And so as Ryusui was about to tell you that he wouldn’t give up on you, he heard you sigh and felt your fingers brush over his, watching you take the bouquet from his hands. His head jutted forward, and his mouth morphed into an “o” as his eyes found yours again, widening when you gave him a small smile.

“Oh, what the hell. So, dinner in your quarters, huh?”

[didyoutrydynamite]

The last five characters you've played group up for an adventure. How balanced is the party?

Alight so I'm gonna cheat a little for this party and make it six characters (Because I've only ever actually played six characters *Cries in forever dm*), so the party would actually be pretty balanced.

Luminelle Spellbrook; Female Woodelf Glamour Bard/ Sheperd Druid:

Hailing from a forest kingdom, Luminelle's days were akin to a Disney Princess, surrounded by the melodies of her animal companions. Her harmonious life took an adventurous turn when wanderlust beckoned her beyond the familiar trees. Yet, as she ventured into the outside world, the vibrant charm of her childlike wonder faded in the face of civilized people's trivialities. The weight of self-absorbed first world problems chipped away at her enthusiasm, and their ulterior motives and selfish intentions left her disillusioned. Despite her preference for for her forest home, Luminelle discovered that the world harbored deeper, tangible threats. This realization drew her into a reluctant role as a mediator between the genuine issues of the world and her serene forest haven.

Miles Cypress; Male Changeling Trickery Cleric:

An enigmatic being of many stories and identities, Father Cypress roams between towns, perpetually drawn to the allure of mischief and enigma. Living a double life, Miles Cypress lives as a clever and pious man during the daylight hours, only to transition into the captivating tiefling minstrel, Hanson Montoya, under the cloak of night. He assumes the visage of his departed love, allowing his former accomplice to fulfill the musical dreams he told him often, while simultaneously pursuing the path of redemption for the transgressions of their shared past.

Pez; Male Grung Alchemist Artificer/ Wild Magic Barbarian:

This little frog man is the proud founder and proprietor of "The Pez Dispensary" for all your pharmaceutical and recreational needs! Here, your ailments will be cured, and you weekends made unforgettable. With his cart full elixirs, potions, and herbs, Pez takes his shop on the road, selling anything and everything that may peak your interest. The only thing shorter than his prices is his temper so you better stop asking so many goddamn questions! What are you a cop? You know if someone asks you if you're a cop, you legally have to tell them.

Xen Haidao; Female Yuan-ti Pureblood Swashbuckler Rogue:

Xen Haidao, a beguiling young actress, blurs the lines between acting and reality. As a method actor, she took intense preparation for an upcoming pirate role, she now lives the daring life she portrayed, wanted for piracy. With charisma and wit, she navigates treacherous seas, evading authorities while embracing the thrill of her piratical existence. Amid danger and fame, Xen treads a precarious path, juggling illusion and reality to maintain her legend as both actress and pirate.

Donathael "Dorko" Darko; Male Highelf Lore Wizard:

Meet Donathael "Dorko" Darko, an enigmatic high elf scholar known more for his affinity for tomes than for adventures. Reclusive and content within his dorm's walls, Dorko's world revolves around the pages of arcane knowledge. But fate intervenes, and the academy thrusts him into the world of adventure, deeming him in desperate need of real-world experience. Dorko's demeanor is far from heroic; he's a scrawny figure lost within robes, a quintessential nerd. Quests and gallant feats? Not his cup of tea. Yet, his vulnerability to peer pressure from his party will have him literally dragged into adventures he'd rather avoid, punctuated by his signature pitiful whine.

Bulwark; Non-Binary Warforged Battlemaster Fighter:

Bulwark, a formidable Warforged, stands as an imposing symbol of unwavering dedication. This automaton soldier, an embodiment of strength and precision, follows orders with absolute devotion. Once tasked with guarding a solitary city bridge, their loyalty was so steadfast that the bridge alone remained standing after a cataclysmic siege reduced the city to ruins. After the death of their Captain, they became a sentinel without a command, who now walks the path of a wandering warrior. Without hesitation, they undertake every quest that comes their way, driven by an unshakable belief that each task is a new command and an extension of their original programming: protect at all cost.

[caker-baker]

Twisted Tales

The little mermaid would not soon have a throne and a crown, that much she knew of.

Resorting to the more brutal methods to achieve both weren’t her taste. She was still a princess, by Poseidon’s name, and she didn’t care for harming her sisters. That was all to be said of that.

No, she needed to be wed to the first in line of something, somewhere. Someone could be more accurate, but she would focus on the detail when she got there.

Seven seas, and surely more royal lines to be found, but travel to the other seas was, simply put in an overprotective king’s terms, forbidden.

Diplomacy fell to her oldest sister, naturally, who, of course, wasn’t interested in divulging any information on powerful mermen or mermaids, an unthinkingly selfish act by itself.

Survival was important enough, she would be lectured, caring for romance was trivial and childish.

When this little mermaid had the chance to learn power beyond the princess title she carried, she sought it, in secrecy, privacy, quietly in the cold currents which hindered tail movements if you weren’t consistently fast enough.

Sea witch, so contrary, and she imagined if the witches on land were addressed so.

Love? The witch offered. Great fortune? What more does a princess need?

Power. Replied the princess. A princess needs power.

Respect would come later.

But power in the waters wasn’t going to flow in the currents like she had hoped, the sea witch had seen it so, so clear that this form of power would bore her too quickly.

She was of the sea, why shouldn’t she taste a change, learn power through a challenge never granted to her here.

The sea witch asked for her voice, thinking, the princess could only assume, that they had hopes of tricking her in this way.

It made the princess falter, and question the validity of this witch.

Were they so ignorant as to believe a princess had any voice at all? Or was this by itself a trick, thinking that she would not want to give up something considered so valuable?

She didn’t need a voice, because she never had one to begin with. The sea witch did not know this, and the little mermaid’s curiosity grew tenfold.

How would it all unravel when she succeeded?

She took the deal, prepared to fight her way through the cold as a human being would, not in the strength a mermaid had.

A silent goodbye to her sisters barely passed her mind before she, as predicted, fought, and broke water at some point, breathing in air not foreign, not entirely, but an indecisive pleasure nonetheless.

She could feel it when she met the firstborn prince, perhaps either cruelty or kindness from the sea witch, perhaps neither, but it was useful.

He asked her name again and again and again and again she did not reply, only smiling ever so prettily, careful to look mournful when her hand ghosted against this throat without gills.

And this prince was kind, kinder than the creatures in the ocean, and she needed to know why.

Was it not in a human being’s nature to be on guard for the precious and limited things this world allowed?

It was not, not to people like this prince, who clothed her with an abundance of dry fabrics, who fed her feast upon feast with foods from the sea that she had never seen cooked, who had limited worry for the trade of his future kingdom because nothing ran out, he had access to everything, he had access to things people wanted.

And they had access to things his people wanted. And it worked, and there was peace.

No, there was no particular possessiveness of your worthwhile things, so long as you chose your place correctly, and this place was correct for the not yet queen.

A sea faring kingdom, a kingdom she could rule quite excellently. She knew the ocean, she knew what people would want from there, and she could take the focus away from the things that were hers.

Sometimes, in the night, while watching the village lights and the sky’s stars in a clearness she had never seen before, the no longer mermaid heard them—sisters who wailed and mourned so loud and deep that waves threatened the shoreline of her future kingdom.

But how safe they would be, one day, if they could stop the crying and not risk her new kingdom’s economy before she had the time to mold it to perfection!

Unthinkingly selfish in their love, and that is what made them sisters, she had to suppose.

And they would be royals twice over. The prince’s soft gaze had turned softer, his hands lingered, and she knew she had won.

The kiss held no particular spark for her, no true promise of love, only the magic which returned her voice, and allowed her to gasp in joy appropriately to this prince.

Princesses told magnificent tales, how she loved the human world, how the sea witch offered her a chance, how much joy she found in this…What are you? A prince? Ah, I see. And the worry she felt when the time neared closer for the debt to be collected, if he didn’t reciprocate her love.

She counted down the days in which her sister’s could end their mourning, her wedding day, where she became a princess twice.

She counted down the days in which she secured both throne and crown, the day the former monarch had died.

Her kingdom did flourish magnificently, and the king winked at his queen, as if keeping it a secret how she knew the best routes to get the rarest of things, where to find the oldest of treasures—though useless to the merfolk—and what seasons were best to go fishing.

The queen winked back, pretending to learn queenship well, smiling as she sent the fishermen away from her father’s sea, to an enemy’s, to a potential threat.

But maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was no longer her father’s sea, maybe it was now her oldest sister’s.

There was so much diplomacy to be had lately, in between rising and setting suns and the salted air.

She counted down the days in which it could be done freely.

If you like this post consider buying me a kofi?

[atoasttotheendoftheworld]

Things we do for love...

Like lots of people, I saw "Avatar: The Way of Water." Now, putting aside my personal opinion of J. Cameron's work (with the exception of Aliens) I had many issues, upon the end of the movie, with the movie itself. Definitely congratulations to the work of all those involved, undoubtedly there was plenty of effort and it certainly has to be acknowledged. However, the plot left me with tedium and bitterness. And, no, it's not about the end.

SPOILER!

What annoyed me most, in terms of the narrative itself, is that the story would (in my opinion) appear to be based on a variety of events that have happened in human history. Like the atrociously unfair actions of the Colonizers against Natives from different parts of the world (specifically I think Natives from the areas of current USA and New Zealand & Australia) as well as the War of Vietnam. A good setting, for sure, to have a narrative in which Humans are represented as Aliens, thus a reversal of the standard "aliens invade earth." Interesting. Except that then, throughout the film, the plot itself is just a slightly different copy of the first film, with the one major difference that the main characters have moved from forest to water and the bad guy isn't physically human anymore but has assumed the appearance of the Na'vi.

However, it all remained centered on the one-on-one fight between Jake Sully and Colonel Miles Quaritch. As in the first film. Only, while in the first film it did make sense and was more than all right for laying the groundwork of the narrative, in this second chapter it is (in my opinion) redundant.

The whole first part of the film has been completely ignored, that gory fire sequence that destroyed Pandora's ecosystem and threatened the lives of the Na'vi. Completely ignored the fact that the United States (yes, because I refuse to consider it a representation of the whole Earth) has established, without any logical connection other than that of the self-centered colonizer, that the Na'vi are the enemy to be put down and destroyed, to invade and subdue in order to steal the whole planet. Fully ignored also that, possibly, "earthlings" might be pushed by a sense of desperation for their own salvation, becoming selfishness of actions. It has been totally dismissed that it doesn't even matter whether Sully is here or not, the Pandora forest and the folk living there will still be in danger of death. It's not Sully that draws the war, it's the U.S. Military that brings it to Pandora; to all of Pandora, regardless of Sully.

Sully alone is uniquely able to understand (besides scientists genuinely interested in Pandora's biodiversity and ecosystem, thus peaceful observers and researchers) the humans' line of reasoning and their potential actions, as he was. He was a U.S. Military. Yet he isn't the reason for war, he isn't the one putting Pandora and its people in danger.

The film's narrative, though, seems to concentrate on that. On the one-on-one confrontation of Sully and Colonel Miles. Ignoring that it's just a battle, but there, someplace in all of Pandora, there is a whole war. War of which we no longer are informed, of which we no longer hear. That Sully himself doesn't appear to comprehend is there. It focused on personal struggle, on family, on a desire to protect it, and that's fine, it may be a metaphor to convey the will to stand up for all the Pandora folk and the peaceful life they live closely with nature and environment.

Nonetheless, I didn't find it well-structured and it annoyed me. For I could have enjoyed three hours of more elaborate metaphors about the triviality of evil and the differences between defensive aggression and dominative violence. Of storytelling about humans as invaders of a planet. Of many other potentially interesting things that, instead, are being ignored in favor of a philosophy about family and sea as metaphors of life and death, of hate and love. Nice, admissibly, yet a bit too mild for a second film.

That's all, I just wanted to say it. As I had this opinion about it and wished to get rid of it, since in daily life I can't engage in dialogue about the movie. (I doubt my cousin will follow it).

Ah…by the way. I firmly reject considering the humans portrayed in the film as a representation of all human beings. At most, they are representations of the U.S. Military system and the U.S. government. I don't see, on Pandora, military/scientific bases of other Nations. So, if I don't see and it's not hinted either with visuals (even hasty ones) or with a few hints in casual dialogues, I cannot assume that all humankind on earth knows what is going on on Pandora and agrees. Neither can I assume that other Nations are cooperating with the US. Therefore, for me, the humans portrayed in the film are U.S. military and that's all. Not the representation of "Earthlings." Although, ultimately, there could be a complex and long conversation about this as well.

[7r0773r]

Written on Water by Eileen Chang, translated by Andrew F. Jones

Mankind is naturally inclined to mind other people's business. Why shouldn't we take the occasional stealthy glance at one another's private lives, if the person being looked at suffers no real damage and the one who looks is afforded a moment of pleasure? In matters involving the provision and procurement of pleasure, there's no need to be overly fussy. What, in the end, is there to fuss about? Misery endures, but life is short. (Notes on Apartment Life, p. 33)

***

I sketched with the knowledge that I would very soon lose the ability to do so. And from this I derived a lesson, an old lesson. If there is something you want to do, do it right away; even then, you might already be too late. Man is the most changeable of creatures. (From the Ashes, p. 58)

***

The vehicle of the times drives inexorably forward. We ride along, passing through thoroughfares that are perhaps already quite familiar. Against a sky lit by flames, they are capable nevertheless of shaking us to the core. What a shame that we occupy ourselves instead searching for our reflections in the shop windows that flit so quickly by—we see only our faces, pallid and trivial. In our selfishness and emptiness, in our smug and shameless ignorance, every one of us is like all the others. And each of us is alone. (From the Ashes, p. 60)

***

A child on a bicycle dashes down the street just to show off. He lets out a shout, lets go of the handlebars, and effortlessly shoots past, swaying atop the seat. And in that split second, everyone in the street watches him pass, transfixed by an indefinable admiration. Might it be that in this life that moment of letting go is the very loveliest? (A Chronicle of Changing Clothes, p. 84)

***

I still remember the first time I saw the sea in Hong Kong: the lifeless, artificial shade of blue reminded me of the ocean on a retouched color postcard. Later, I stumbled across much the same metaphor in an English book: "You could cut out the Persian Gulf and send it home as a postcard, the blue of the water was so deep and so dull." The discovery that someone else has long ago given voice to your own words, and said them much better than you ever could, is disconcerting enough. But to discover that he didn't say it as well as you might have done is heartbreaking. (Let's Go! Let's Go Upstairs, p. 107)

***

My friend Yanying says: "Every butterfly is the spirit of a dead flower who has come back in search of itself." (The Sayings of Yanying, p. 125)

***

The discussions taking place among writers as to our present course and our path forward seem to me an unimaginable liberty—as if there were any choice in the matter. No doubt the garden of literature is broad and inclusive: when visitors buy their tickets and enter its precincts, they can have their pictures taken on the Nine-Bend bridge, swarm over to the zoo, or roam as they wish across the grounds. Their freedom of movement is truly enviable. But I believe that writers themselves should be like trees in the garden, growing naturally within its confines, with their roots extending deep into the ground below. As they grow, their viewpoint will begin to grow wider, and as their field of vision expands, there is no reason why they shouldn't be able to develop in new directions, for when the wind blows, their seeds will disperse far into the distance, engendering still more trees. But that is the most difficult task of all. (What Are We to Write?, p. 139)

***

No wonder those who have children keep on having them. They see children as amusing little blockheads, lovable and laughable encumbrances. They fail to see what is so very frightening about children's eyes—such earnest eyes, the eyes of the angels on Judgment Day.

Without any real credentials, we blithely make eyes such as these, their little minds capable of criticism and judgment, their bodies capable of experiencing the most exquisite pain as well as pleasure. Without credentials, we make people, and stumbling between hunger and satiety, between knowledge and ignorance, we raise them to adulthood. Making people is quite a dangerous occupation. Mothers and fathers are not gods, but they are forced into occupying a position of divinity. And even if you play that divine role with great care, even if you prepare meticulously for the arrival of your child, there is no way to guarantee what sort of person the child will eventually become. If conditions do not favor a child even before he is born, then he can hardly be expected to succeed later in life. Such are the operations of fate.

Of course, the more arduous the situation, the more apparent will become the tremendous love parents bear for their children. Either the parent or the child must be sacrificed to circumstances, and it is from this hard truth that we have derived the moral virtue of self-abnegation. (Making People, pp. 142-43)

***

My mother also told me that in drawing pictures one should always avoid using red in the background, because the background must be kept at a distance from the rest of the image, and red seems to leap right out of the picture and into your eyes. The walls of the bedroom I shared with my little brother, though, were painted just the sort of orangey red that refuses to keep its distance. I had chosen the color, and when I drew pictures, I still liked to color the walls behind all the little people red, because things looked warmer and cozier and more intimate that way. (Whispers, p. 164)

***

On the wall of the classroom in my old school there hung a reproduction of the Mona Lisa, the famous painting of the Italian Renaissance. Our teacher told us, "Notice the strange smile on her face." And it was truly a disquieting smile, lovely yet ambiguous. It looked as if it might disappear at any moment, and even though the smile remained in place as I carefully examined the painting, I was left all the same with an unaccountable sensation of loss. Our teacher told us that when the master was working on this painting, he had exerted himself to the utmost searching for rare and exotic objects from across the globe to place in front of this woman, all in order to get her to smile that particular smile. I didn't like this explanation. Green tortoises, mummy's feet, or mechanical toys: none of these would necessarily elicit a smile like that. To make someone smile that particular smile would surely be more difficult. Or perhaps easier than one might think. When a woman remembers a gesture or a little habitual motion that her lover tends to make, there is a childishness to her expression, lovable and at the same time pitiful, for she is suddenly suffused by a tender lenience that radiates outward, casting her past and her future in its shade. And at that moment, there might well be a smile as evanescent as this one in her eyes. (On Painting, p. 203)

***

Time is like space: there are areas that are worth money as well as vast stretches of wasteland. (Epilogue: Days and Nights of China, p. 233)

[muraenide]

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. → { NO LONGER ACCEPTING } 🕯️ chinhands. — @utsuboh

So you want to know what Jade thinks of himself, huh—

If there is one person in the world that I can be fully honest with, it would be myself.

I am selfish. I do not lie. These two are traits about myself that everyone always finds difficult to believe, they are often the heated debate surrounding my person which I find to be nothing but amusing. Especially the ones who came from the surface, they tend to read between the lines more than necessary or they don't read at all. This is what separates Azul and Floyd from them, who knew me as I am and doesn't try to fabricate a version of me that meets their expectations.

I do not think I am more complicated as a person than I claim to be. Just like Floyd, I enjoy seeing things that are interesting. While it is true that the surface is more optimistic than the Coral Sea, there are also things here that are new to me. Things that we don't normally get to experience in the Coral Sea. Such as ice cream, for example, I would have never thought that frozen water and sugar would go so well together. When I tried my first ice cream, I am nothing but excited to write about them in the letters I would send to Mother that very same night.

Sometimes it baffles me why humans enjoy malding over things that weren't as complex as they thought they were. Of course, there would be times when I purposely put up a facade just for the sake of teasing them, but humans do that too, do they not? It is not as if I am trying to hide mine. I have no secrets to keep, in retrospect of humans themselves.

But ah, I probably shouldn't drive myself to overthink such trivial details. After all, everyone here is just a specter in passing. Our paths would diverge eventually and I would come to forget who they ever were. All that matters is Azul and Floyd. They are the ones who would continue to be part of my life.

[jdpink]

“Don’t allow anyone, including yourself, to trivialize what running means to you. It is very selfish, but if everyone pursued a passion they loved the way you and I love running, the world would be a better place."

“I’m forty-six years old. I’ve completed forty marathons, give or take, over the past eighteen years. My best time is 2:41:29, which I ran nine years ago, when I was thirty-seven. My most recent marathon was in Eugene in May, and my time there was 2:49:14.... [13 weeks of high altitude training later} I had completed the 2017 Chicago Marathon in 144th place, fourth among runners my age and older, dead last in the men’s pro division, in an official time of 2:39:30. My average pace over the full distance was 6:05.005 per mile.

“I love the simplicity of this way of living,” I said. “My days revolve around running. Everything I do from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed has the clear and singular objective of making me a better runner. There’s something almost spiritual about the clean, stripped-down Spartanism of it... "There are only two things that are proven to have the power to counteract the kind of pain and fear that athletes experience in competition,” Shannon summarized. “One is the flow state, where you are completely absorbed in what you’re doing and self-consciousness disappears. The other is love.”

The target pace he gave me for today’s steady state was 6:50 per mile, which, according to Daniels, is the Flagstaff-elevation equivalent of 6:30 per mile at sea level. You might think it would feel easier, or at least different, but it doesn’t. You can just push harder. at 3,100 feet, where a 6:00 mile feels like a 6:15 mile to someone who’s spent the last ten and a half weeks at 7,000 feet.

Most professional runners get massages at least once a week. my freshly shaved legs (about half of the guys on the team manscape). All the real pros on NAZ Elite take daily naps.

request that whoever wins the race not stop their watch at the finish line, which would spoil the photo

If I hadn’t gotten injured, I would have done a sixteen-mile depletion run two weeks ago, consuming no carbohydrates either before or during the session. Widely practiced by elite runners, depletion runs are believed to teach the muscles to metabolize fat more effectively, thereby boosting endurance.

Fun pro-runner facts:

They don't have to have all that many social media followers (at least in 2017): "Steph has nearly 13,000 Twitter followers, far more than any other member of NAZ Elite."

Professional running is a relentless grind, no matter how much you love the sport. Two runs a day, seven days a week, forty-eight weeks a year, plus all the other stuff: strength training, tortuous massages, PT appointments, a burdensome need for sleep. For these folks, voicing the occasional unserious suicidal ideation just might be the only alternative to quitting for real.

Brauny fell back, suffering mightily over the final twelve miles, yet he hung on to finish twelfth with a time of 2:13:41. He’d placed third among American runners and beaten a number of big names, including Diego Estrada and Feyisa Lilesa. For his pains, he’d earned $16,500.

Highlights from Running the Dream by Matt Fitzgerald.

[lovereconthings]

How To Come Together In Conflict

How To Come Together In Conflict

  Sometimes the most intense conflicts in marriage are over the most trivial issues. Recently a couple shared that they were arguing over decorations in their home. She believed that objects should be placed in groupings of three, and therefore she had arranged two whales and a sea lion together. Her husband moved the sea lion because he, being a Navy man, said that you never see whales and sea lions together. Each had their own perspective. So, who was right? If you are insistent on always being right -on “winning” – you will most definitely always lose. No one wins an argument in a relationship unless you both win. If one of you loses, you both lose.   Causes of Conflict   Conflict arises because we are individuals, two unique persons with different preferences, viewpoints, needs, and desires. These play out in the main areas of our relationships – money, sex, in-laws, children, and communication. At the root of most disagreements in these areas is the attitude of selfishness, wanting what I want, how and when I want it!   There are also some typical ways that we learn to deal with conflict as we mature into adulthood. They are:   - Win at all costs. “My way or the highway! I’m right, and you’re wrong. The only way that this will be resolved is if you agree with me.”   - Withdraw. “There is no way that I’m going to argue. I pull back and hope it all goes away or blows over.”   - Surrender. “I give up. I give in. You win. I’ll keep the peace and become a doormat until one day I explode!”   - Meet in the Middle. “We compromise – win some, lose some.”   - Our mutual solution. “Our relationship is more valuable than what we tend to disagree about. Therefore, I desire a mutually agreed upon way to move forward.”   Here are some practical ways to move forward together – to come together instead of coming apart:   GET SPIRITUALLY CENTERED    

Spend some time thinking, praying, and meditating to calm and center yourself. Sometimes what will happen is that your heart and mind will change about the matter. This is also true of your spouse in that they may also change. Before you attempt to deal with the problem or issue, call on God for help. Vent your feelings, hurts, disappointments, and even your anger to God.   OWN YOUR PART   Before you accuse, attack, or blame, do an honest evaluation. Ask yourself, “How much of this is due to my words or actions? Is my selfishness to blame for this? Am I the problem?” I need to admit my part in the issue humbly.   Many marriages end because the couple believes that they are incompatible. Dr. Paul Tournier, the Swiss psychiatrist who wrote To Understand Each Other:  "So-called incompatibility is a myth invented by jurists in order to plead for divorce. It is likewise a common excuse for people to hide their own weaknesses and failings. Misunderstandings and mistakes can be corrected when there is a willingness to do so. The problem is the lack of complete frankness."     CALL A PEACE CONFERENCE.   Don’t be afraid to have a sit-down, face-the-issues meeting, or meetings. That is what it is going to take. Conflict must be dealt with intentionally and deliberately. Matters only grow worse if you ignore them. Your hearts will grow harder, and your positions will become solidified.   Don't ignore it. Deal with the issue while you can deal with it. It doesn't matter if you are the offended person or the offender. Either way, you take the initiative. The ball is in your court.   When? As soon as possible. Don't delay. Don't postpone. Postponed conflict only gets worse.    Here are some guidelines for your peace conference:   -  Choose the right time. This is critical. Timing is everything. Don’t do it as you’re walking out the door or your spouse is nodding off to sleep. Don’t do it when the kids or others are in the room. The best time to have a peace conference is when you are both at your best. - Choose the right place. Choose a place where you can be alone and uninterrupted. A word of advice: Save the bed for other things. You don’t want to share your deepest feelings about something and then hear snoring in response! - Come with a hopeful and positive attitude.   Come together. Sit down and hold hands and tell your spouse what your hope is for this time. Use “we” and “me” and “I ."Avoid using “you.”  Don’t accuse, blame or shame your spouse. - Watch your words. Never use the threat of divorce. Agree to eliminate certain phrases like “you always” or “you never.” Yelling is not acceptable. - Consider your mate’s perspective. This can be challenging because it is not natural to look at life from your mate’s viewpoint. However, it is the secret to resolving conflict. It is healing to be empathetic with their feelings and validate them, even when you disagree. It sends that message that “I value you, even when we disagree. You and our relationship are important to me.” - Work for reconciliation, not resolution. Resolution means that every issue is resolved. Reconciliation means that our relationship is re-established or restored. We are turning toward each other in love instead of turning away from each other in hurt, anger, or misunderstanding. This is critical because some issues will never be resolved, but the relationship can still thrive and be mutually satisfying despite the differences.     Schedule a peace conference with your spouse today to deal with the issues you have been avoiding. Things will only get worse if you don’t. If you need professional help, don’t be ashamed or afraid to reach out for it. Love Recon and Recon Coaching are two great sources of support for you and your relationship. It’s what we do! Read the full article

[kachuuyaa]

— ELYSIAN’S FUGITIVES.

06072021 ; g.i oneshot , gn!reader , bsd!reader

genre ; angsty fluff ig i dunno???

includes ; WISP!CHUUYA MAKES HIS APPEARANCE :D mentions of death, gore, gods, chuuya being cute (He Squeaks!) chuuya and reader meant to be REAL, literally just a first meeting between aether n you Italics is Japanese

synopsis ; The punishment from the gods is to be sent to Elysian, then banished into a never-ending cycle of paranoia.

author's notes ; U FINALLY MEET AETHER. wisp!chuuya is the best thing I have ever written ever I was mentally squealing because oh my oiguoidsp[';][][21P]2;\.,sdmNXK

You couldn’t count the days you have roamed Teyvat, it has been too long since then. For 60 years (it was 60 years, wasn’t it? You don’t remember anymore), you have not crossed any country’s border, only listening to their seemingly endless musings. You have never been out in the sea, tensity and uneasiness forming in the pit of your stomach whenever so. However, being isolated from the land the gods rule upon, has earned you a title. Your name is being whispered as a warning or a legend like a scripture formed with the wind. Some were afraid of you, while some respected you. It was pathetic, really, how desperate these people were compared to those in Yokohama. There was no point in dwelling in the past, now, was there? Despite receiving unwanted attention by passersby, you paid no attention to those who whispered your name like a mantra, spouting vile, vulgar assumptions about you. You realized-- quickly-- that they only think for themselves, not for the benefit of others. Wouldn’t that be the source of their demise? Well, you don’t linger on trivial topics for too long, it’s only fair for you to care only about yourself in a world you don’t belong in (you know you belong here now, yet you felt as if Elysian was better than this place they call home).

You have heard of the outlander who caught the wind, saving a foreign nation he seemed to have been in once, only, and you have let the news flow from one ear to another. Who were you to care? No one should catch your attention in a world full of insatiable people. Each step made the grass crunch, making your way to the foot of Dragonspine. Chuuya followed suit, and he settled himself on your head. You figured out that he could shapeshift, probably his punishment as well, yet so far, he has only shifted into a bird and a wisp. His wisp form wasn’t as elegant as you may think, a small, hooded figure encased in smoke-colored clothing, resembling the coat he used to wear. On top, there was a small black X-shaped symbol in the middle of his chest. Around his small form were orange particles, that remind you vividly of Chuuya's ability. A little hat, one you were familiar with, was situated on top of his small head. It was the hat he was wearing during his time as a mafioso, you deduced as such. The tiny creature lets out small squeaks of content, nuzzling itself on your head; seems like he thought it was a good pillow. A chuckle of amusement escapes your lips, turning your head around to watch the scenery in front of you. Dragonspine was one of your favorite places to visit during your free time, snow piling on top of another, making the white mountain as beautiful as it is. However, you do not venture into Dragonspine, not wanting to risk your life for creatures who seem to always take your time.

As much as you hate to admit it, you have most likely killed more hilichurls than you ever killed back in Yokohama. The songs of relentless, snow-covered winds never fail to make your unease and worry falter, even for a moment. The glacial scenery of the mountain attracted your attention, especially your first visit here. A few snowflakes settled themselves on your face, melting due to the heat emitting from your body. If you had the chance, should you tell your friends about the scenery, they would love it too, wouldn't they? You know they would, however, how would you know so? They’re gone, and so is your attachment to anything but Chuuya. “Do you like the scenery, Chuchu?” soft taps on your head were his response, indicating that he was displeased with the nickname you gave him. He agreed nonetheless, sitting on the palm of your hand. He squirmed, looking for a more comfortable position, and stilled after a while.

Memories of the past have always plagued your mind, reminding you that you were alone, again. Despite the copious memories you have stored away, none will bring you back to the place you have regarded as your home. For once, you have felt safe, all the while knowing death follows you wherever you go. Death was the dark, hollow cloak you wore while walking the path of dread in your past life, hands coated with the blood of another, and your eyes held the burden you were forced to carry until the day you died. The amount of blood was enough to shatter the dreams children told you to believe in, you were holding on the thinnest thread, one soaked with blood, your blood, reminding you how much you have suffered and how you made others weak, on their knees, while keeping a straight face as you watch the life draining from their faces. You have learned that life was unfair, gods turning a blind eye to the generation you were put in, leading the people to be self-reliant, causing resentment and disrespect to be aimed at those who call themselves “gods”.

Did they even exist? You have heard, and read, tell of what the gods and goddesses have done to provide, to give, and to sacrifice. Did they give up? Were they satisfied with what they have gotten? Has their insatiable lust for approval and desire to fulfill their selfish, carnal desires quenched? Did they only long for what they have desired, using their power to prove themselves better among the world of mortals? Were they not the selfless, kind gods described in the books of old? Nevertheless, you had no respect for the divine. You only had yourself to depend on since the start. You controlled your own death, knowing that when you died, it was time. You could have stopped yourself from fading, though, but you were tired, you let it happen. And though you know that your death will be remembered, not in the history books, but in the Port Mafia, you will be forever remembered.

59 years have passed. There is no time to dwell in the past, all you have is the memories you swear to protect. Your fight with immortality has been futile, leaving you to bask in your own presence for 59 years. That is until Chuuya finally found you. And you? You found him. It wasn’t expected for you to know who he was, a mere spirit cursed by gods above to wander a world he was unfamiliar with. He was stripped of Arahabaki, leaving him with only his outermost ability, “For The Tainted Sorrow”. He didn’t mind, as well, Arahabaki resides within him, giving him a sense of dread, and leaving him with his identity that he can’t seem to solve. Arahabaki has forever stained him as blood stained your hands, giving him scars that will never leave him. In that life, and in the next. He had you, sweet, malevolent, outstanding you. Though he never voiced it out, he felt, well, complete, to say the least. And while feeling detached from not being completely human has affected him far too much, you were there to make him feel-- what did you make him feel, really? He can’t decipher his own feelings as his own identity. In all the years he has roamed this world as an insignificant wisp of the wind, he found himself tangled in another adventure with the “most insufferable partner aside from Dazai”.

Your footsteps were carried by the wind, walking to the City of Mondstadt, again, Chuuya on your shoulder, scanning the area for any enemies or the like. You were currently looking for food, choosing to shop in Mondstadt instead of catching wildlife. Each step has your coat moving from one side to another, boots making the grass crunch in every step. “Ne, Chuuya, do you want to buy pancakes from Mond?” you whispered, voice soft, only for Chuuya to hear. Said wisp only nods its small head, his little hood moving ever so slightly while he nods. Deciding that it would be best for him to rest, you put him in your breast pocket, his little head poking just a bit. Chuuya softly squeaked, nuzzling on the fabric, and opted to rest despite his unsaid protests. But before you could set foot onto the City Of Freedom, a high-pitched voice prevented you from doing so. “Hey!” they said, you whipped your head to the direction you heard it from, spotting a seemingly young-looking traveler, and a floating pixie-- wait.

Isn’t he the honorary knight? You thought to yourself, unconsciously cupping the pocket Chuuya resides in, feeling him squirm when he came in contact with your gloved palm. Instead of giving them a response, you simply stared at them, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Hi.” a simple, short greeting. Although you would prefer to ask the traveler some questions, that wouldn’t be necessary. You were able to decipher every detail easily, too easily, in fact. Aether, however, wasn’t fazed. He was well aware of how they described you, and how notorious you were due to appearance. Scoffing at the assumptions, he looked forward to meeting you. Perhaps he will look forward to his endeavors with you by his side, no? A star sent from Elysian would only brighten the mortal world, cursed with divine power and lonesome memories.

However, you did not know that a simple greeting exchanged on your first day of the meeting would bloom into something much more.

Ah, it seems that the show is starting once again, a different chapter, a different genre.

2021 © kachuuyaa. all rights reserved. do not steal and claim my work as your own.

[renjunbae]

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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[tealtoedtoots]

Two Super Vampires Walk Into a Bar...

“To me, immortality was something utterly unimportant and trivial. All that has ever mattered to me was living up to my code.”

Wamuu and Esidisi go out on the town and have a little heart to heart about the future.

     Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking. Not often, anyway. He’d partake on  occasion, but ultimately, he had decided that this particular diversion was not for him. He didn’t like the idea of not being in complete control over his emotions. 

So it was with some reluctance, one night, that he agreed to go out drinking with Master Esidisi. 

It was not long after they crossed the sea. They had been traveling for some time until they found themselves in a magnificent coastal city, marked with gorgeous architecture and bustling with life. Esidisi, ever lively, found himself with just enough spare energy to fancy a drink or two somewhere in this exciting new place. Kars did not share his enthusiasm. By the time they found a place to stay, the red-eyed man, perhaps a tad more red-eyed than usual, was ready for a rest. 

So it was up to the dutiful Wamuu to accompany his master for the night. Truthfully, it wasn’t just his aversion to alcohol that made him wary of sharing a drink with Esidisi. He had much on his mind. The voyage had been quite unsettling for all of them, and Wamuu was left wondering if this grand quest for complete immortality was worth such risks. Or if he wanted such a thing at all. Ordinarily, he’d keep such doubts to himself, but he was terrified of the liquor loosening his tongue. And, shrewd as Esidisi was, it wouldn’t take much to see right through him. 

Still, his master wanted to go out, and he couldn’t just let him go alone. So, with some good-humored advice from Kars, (“Make sure he behaves.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t let him start anything.” “Yes, Lord.” “Don’t get stuck somewhere before sunrise.” “Yes, Lord.”) they were off on their little tour around town. 

Even at so late an hour, the city was fluttering with people, between and around such grandiose structures the likes neither of them had ever seen. They walked under several beautiful arches made of limestone and marble with impressive friezes. They passed by a large nymphaeum, covered in mosaic with a particularly striking fountain. And then there was the theater, so enormous the two found it hard to believe there was any spectacle that could draw a large enough crowd to fill it even half full. They finally settled at a tavern of sorts. A cozy little place with a lovely view of the city. They sat in contended silence for a while, Esidisi’s cup already half-empty, Wamuu’s untouched. It was a truly beautiful night, and Wamuu was quite taken with the view.

“So, what’s troubling you, Wamuu?”

Wamuu flinched at the suddenness. What?? How could he know? He hadn’t even drunk anything yet! Had he been obvious? 

“Oh…” He wasn’t ready to have this talk. Leave it to Master to charge headfirst into a potentially difficult conversation. He thought quickly. “I was merely wondering...what happens after we obtain the red stone.” 

“Ah.” he seemed satisfied with the answer. “Well, I’d imagine once we’ve achieved our goal and are made properly invincible, Kars and I will travel at our leisure. See the world in a new light. Maybe take an overseas trip that isn’t miserable.” he winked at Wamuu over his cup before taking a sip. “You and Santana are welcome to join us of course, but ultimately, your eternity is yours to spend as you see fit.”

The two went quiet again, a little less comfortable this time. The last part of his reply seemed to hold some weight to it, a certain melancholy. They were both already missing Santana, which made the possibility of parting ways sting more than it normally would have. In the silence, Wamuu was surprised to find himself compelled to speak truthfully after all. He still hadn’t touched his drink, and yet whether it was the ambience of the place or his master’s subtle change in expression, he couldn’t fight the urge to confess. 

“Master...what if I didn’t want to be an immortal being?”

Esidisi looked at him in surprise, and immediately Wamuu regretted not keeping his mouth shut. He had to be livid, how could he not be? He just admitted that he didn’t want the glorious life they were working so hard to achieve, and partially for his sake. He must seem so selfish. He tried to backpedal.

“H-hypothetically.” Nice save.

Esidisi looked intently at the man beside him for a time, then relaxed his face. “Of course he doesn’t.” he thinks. “This earnest and honorable fool would never have an earnest and honorable battle again. It would utterly take the wind out of his sails.” As a warrior, he understood. Esidisi had had countless battles over his long life, some of them exciting and perilous, most of them far too easily won. And though he still enjoyed the thrill of combat, he’d long made his peace that there were few of this world that could measure up.

But Wamuu was still young, and had done most of his living by their side. No doubt, he’d need to have many more encounters before he could be satisfied. He put aside his disappointment and spoke evenly.

“Well, Wamuu,” he turned forward again and took another sip. “It’s as I’ve said. Once the stone is ours, you may live your life as you please.” 

Esidisi didn’t seem upset, but Wamuu was still uneasy. “And...Lord Kars?”

Esidisi stilled. Ah. That might be a different matter. Kars wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear this. Esidisi knew it came from a place of love, of course he wanted Wamuu to live forever with no threats or fears to burden him. They both did. It would be giving him everything. It would be giving him the whole world. He wouldn’t understand why he would reject such a gift, just so he can play around with some lesser beings, and at the possible cost of his life at that. 

“Hmm. I won’t lie to you, Kars will likely be furious.” Wamuu knew the answer, but his heart sank anyway. 

“But don’t let it torment you. You know how he can be. He’ll come to accept it in due time, and sooner rather than later. He cares for you deeply, after all.” he claps a warm hand on his back. “And anyway, knowing Kars, it won’t be long after conquering the sun before he needs something new to obsess over. Maybe his next mission will be building you the perfect opponent.” he grinned. 

Wamuu smiled. He didn’t know whether the older man was joking or not, and he had a suspicion he wasn’t so sure himself, but his words cheered him considerably. He was glad that he came out tonight.

“You know, Master, I’m somewhat surprised a fierce warrior such as yourself would be so willing to give up his combative lifestyle for an eternity of peace and tranquility. With all due respect, it doesn’t seem like you.”

Esidisi chuckled. “Who said anything about peace and tranquility? Believe me Wamuu, even in paradise, if there’s trouble, I’ll find it.” His voice and his smile soften. “Besides, even if I’ve already fought my very last battle, a whole lifetime of them can only pale in comparison to an infinity with my mate.” Wamuu made a commendable effort to keep his nose from wrinkling. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone for whom you feel the same.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. He thought for a second. “Honestly, I think I’d rather spend the remainder of my time with you and Lord Kars.”

Esidisi barked a hearty laugh. “Don’t be so quick to decide that, Wamuu! That’s a long time, you may very well be sick of us by then.” He smiled at him warmly.

Wamuu smiled back. He doubted it.

It was then that Esidisi noticed Wamuu’s cup, still filled to the top. With an exaggerated sigh, he held out his hand. “Alright Wamuu, give me the drink. You haven’t touched it all night.”

Wamuu looked at the cup, then back to his master. An impish smile formed on his usually serious face. Suddenly, on a whim of rare playfulness, he jerked his head back and gulped the whole thing down in mere seconds! It was not a small drink. 

Esidisi was stunned for the second time that night. He stared at him in disbelief before erupting into a fit of raucous laughter. “‘Atta boy! ‘Atta boy!! Let’s have another!” he shouted while slapping him vigorously on the back. “Maybe you can taste it this time!”

Wamuu wasn’t usually one for drinking, but he had a wonderful time that night.

EXTRA

The door opened with a loud bang, and Esidisi entered with a flourish. He found Kars in the middle of the room, comfortably laying on some blankets and looking over some scroll he managed to get his hands on.

“Why! Is that Kars, the brilliant and gorgeous love of my near-immortal life? Or is that simply the most exquisite and oddly colored mop I have ever seen?”

Kars huffed a laugh and looked at him with a sly smile. 

“It’s Kars.” Esidisi said simply, kissing his cheek and making himself comfortable against Kars’ back.

“Your flattery needs work.” he turned back to his reading, still smiling.

“Really? I thought that was pretty good for me.”

“You’ve had better.” he glanced behind him. “Where’s Wamuu?”

Oh. That was a good question. Esidisi opened his eyes in realization. “Huh...he was right behind me…”

Kars sat up in alarm just before hearing a thud at the entrance. There he was, perfectly safe and completely hammered, lying right in the doorway. 

“...Wamuu? Are you alright?”

Wamuu giggled drowsily in response. He raised his arm in the air and swung it in a circle a few times before giving a thumbs up, before dropping it over his face.

Kars gave Esidisi a look. “What?? There was no stopping him Kars, the boy practically drank the whole place dry!” 

Kars got up with a sigh. “Oh, no he didn’t Esidisi, don’t fib.

“He did!”

Kars crossed the floor and leaned down, giving Wamuu a shake. “Wamuu.”

Wamuu opened one eye and looked at Kars. He gave him a broad and goofy smile. 

“Luvff you Daahd…”

That’s both masters he’s stunned tonight. Kars’ eyes widened and he pressed his lips together in shock. He was certainly not expecting that. “O-oh!” was all he managed. Wammu didn’t hear his master’s uncharacteristically inelegant reply, he was out again almost immediately. Kars could feel Esidisi beaming at him from across the room, and he was sure he could tell he was fighting a silly smile of his own.

“You both are incorrigible.”

[jjk-anime-horray]

Stanza of the Surf

Dazai Osamu x Reader x Doppo Kunikida

Dazai thought you were like water, stunning beautiful, essential to everything around you, and blissfully adaptable. However like the ocean he knew some days you could be deceptively calm, a hidden riptide to you enemies. Swiftly washing them away before they even knew what happened. Or like the crashing waves of a mid summer night storm, brutally raw and strong, able to chip away at ancient rocks that lined the coast line, utterly powerful. But, I guess it did make a lot of sense that you were like the sea because your ability was 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'.

Dazai would have never thought that someone as inconstant as the liquid of life would have caught the eye of the lone poet. You were flowing, like they beautiful trickle of a glacial stream or the wake of a flood. Kunikida was rigid, the opposite of water. Dazai wondered if you actually fit into the poet's ludicrous list of ideals, or the former tutor was enamored by your soft ripples like he himself was.

Kunikida wasn't thrilled to deduce that someone else was just as infatuated with you as he was. Especially because it was someone who was the bane of his existence. Dazai was chaotic, and nothing like you were in his opinion. To the former tutor, you were moving but constant in your changes, your changes were beautiful and graceful, not riddled with past faults like his suicidal maniac of a partner he is forced to work with, every single day.

Both of the detectives looked at you like you were a masterpiece, or the image of a pristine sandy beach. One saw the every changing motion of the sea ahead of them, but the other saw the consistent brushing of the waves of the sand leaving a fluffy foam behind them.

The two men know the dangers of the ocean when it's angry, and they know that the sea would be enraged to figure out that two of it's friends were being selfish and unwilling to share, even it didn't know why.

Dazai and Kunikida knew that if they were going to fight over something so cliche and trivial, that they were going to need to do it on dry land away from the water of their liking. Away from the soft sands of the beach, and into the heart of the land away from the oceans bellow.

However, the sea is known to roll past its beaches in its rage when provoked. Washing out seaside towns, flooding the lands, the ocean can be very unforgiving. But in this case it was you slapping Dazai and Kunikida to knock some sense into your two coworkers. The ocean never stops being the ocean for anyone, and quite frankly you didn't know what they were arguing about, but work that needs to be done doesn't stop being work that needs to be done no matter how much you want it to go away. Like the swiftness of a rushing river they hurried back to work knowing that some things should be left for outside of the office. And it wouldn't help either of them out wooing you if you were mad at them. To them now they just had to strategize how to get the edge on the other. While not inconveniencing the waves knowing that they would never get what they both wanted if they did.