#in that i think there's some stuff i think should have been resolved sooner But i think this ep did ok with at least addressing them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovecolibri · 4 months

Note

SaL anon here bestie, ready with the gin to endure whatever nonsense Eddie's plot is devolving into this week. God I hope the focus on Henren or Bathena so I can walk away with some sense of satisfaction. I'm not even going to attempt to say something good might come out if it, since history isn't on our side this season wrt Eddie. Tim needs to lay off his Hitchcock obsession, he did Psycho on LS last season, is doing Vertigo now, and both plots were utter nonsense. At least I got a good laugh today looking at the stills from the Oliver and Lou interview. Somebody should have told Oliver to blink 3 times if he's there against his will, though the fact that he looks like he's actively leaning towards the nearest exit probably says it just as well.

Yeah, the sooner bucktommy ends the happier I'll be. The relationship itself is fine, on par with every other BS relationship Buck was in really, but the fandom around it is exhausting and the active attempts to erase any semblance of Eddie in Buck's life is just so, so dumb (and pointless, like Buck wouldn't be the same without Eddie in his life just as Eddie isn't the same without Buck). Anyway cheers friend, we're on the precipice of something that looks both exciting and annoying, let's hope the scales tip in our favor 🍷🍸🥃.

Well, as I'm sure you guessed by my late answer, I saw this and waved at you from post limit jail, due to the d20 finale last night. I wish Tumblr would have a pop up like, "hey, you have 5 posts left before you hit post limit today!" or something so I could prepare!

So, good news, the Bobby and Henren stuff was *chefs kiss* angsty and dramatic and pulled at my heartstrings! The Bobby montage as he's giving his Captain Dad advice and having Buck cook, and calling Hen "Mother Hen" (while looking at Buck and Eddie 👀👀👀), giving the prayer book to Eddie, giving tips to Ravi, calling out orders on scene, it was all so much! And GOD, them taking that poor little girl away, and Denny stepping between that man and his sister, I was in TEARS! The Bobby and Athena talk got me too, and then him seeing his dead dad?! Bobby is going THROUGH IT and I ate it up!

As for Eddie I- legitimately do not know what to say. The whole thing was a mess, Kim giving herself bangs?? to roleplay with a stranger?? was just SO WEIRD and off-putting. Sorry I guess I'm just a hater but I think Eddie getting stuck with actresses like GW and EG means that him having scenes with anyone else feels good? but I'm not falling all over myself about any magical chemistry 🤷🏻‍♀️I hate this storyline and I'm tired of the narrative that this was some great love Eddie is missing out on when season 2-3 gave us actual canon evidence that it isn't true, and it feels more like Tim wanted Devin back and thought he could get away with it now that the audience had some space and KR spent all last season pretending Shannon was some saint (when he killed Shannon off so quickly originally because he said the audience wasn't going to forgive her and he didn't want to waste screentime on that when grief tied in with anger and abandonment was a more interesting storyline for Eddie and Chris). I'm also VERY curious about where the "Eddie realizing he's been looking at the relationship with rose colored glasses and living in delusion about it" is because GIRL that wasn't it. Eddie crying about her being the great love of his life and how they could have had it all is NOT him taking off the rose colored glasses, no matter how pretty Ryan looks when he's crying.

ANYWAY. I was already not on board with this but the writers dragging Chris into it too just gives me the ick. And it might resolve fine, but GOD!! THE JOURNEY MATTERS!! It matters how the characters get places! And this is just...not just a mess but a completely unnecessary one. They could address Eddie's grief and delusions about his relationship with Shannon (and her relationship with Chris because don't think I didn't clock him bringing up her (shit ass guilt trip) letter but not that she abandoned her son and cut off all contact for years) without resorting to trashy soapy doppelganger nonsense and cheating drama. And it's WILD because Bobby's arc this season and his relationship with Athena, and Henren's storyline have been SO GOOD, and even though there were some pacing and tone issues, even the Madney stuff has been good (and Kenny always slays the dramatic arcs!). Buck has taken a mostly supportive backseat this season which, while I ADORE him, was needed after the mess KR made of his character and her apparent lack of interest in the majority of the other main characters and his personal storyline (the bi realization, being Eddie's partner for all the big emotional talks) is also fine, it just got hijacked by some absolutely bizarre shipping strangeness over a couple minutes of screentime. But GOD Eddie's shit has been such a weird mess! It wasn't enough to be stuck with the transphobe all season, we also had to add in this nonsense?! Thanks, I hate it. At least we might finally be allowed to let Shannon go?? I am literally begging at this point.

As for th b/t of it all, I have literally blocked it from my mind and out of my existence (the ONE perk of my tumblr app still not working and having to do most of my stuff in my phone browser means I haven't really seen my dash lately and I've been smart about staying out of the tag for once) because it's just not worth the headache the bad takes give me. I'm just...so tired. I was willing to watch it play out (felt very much like Ali as the first step post-Abby, something background setting up for more later *cries in s4 Buddie canon*) but go at this point I just need it to be over for EVERYONE'S sanity. Especially Oliver's because like, girl. Why do you look like you're trapped in that loft with MW again?! Why so haunted? Girl, are you okay?? Oliver?? And how he continues to just post Buddie/Ryan stuff?? Loud.

I'm just...tired. So tired. And I need a drink. Imma go find some absolutely filthy/funny/fun Buddie fic and drown myself in that because I have the unfortunate feeling it's gonna be a LONG fucking hiatus.

Cheers friend. I know I always say if we can survive RNM (with it's own doppelganger storyline) then we can survive anything but GOD it would be nice to not have it be so hard.

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #buddie #anti bucktommy #to be safe #i don't actually fucking care that much because it's been set up by the show itself as not that serious #but god i don't need the mess in my inbox #also i love eddie so much and i'm putting any and all blame squarely on timmy and the writers shoulders for this mess #who was it that said tim should just ask devin to lunch to catch up like a normal person instead of making it our problem because like FACT #they literally could have brought her back to do flashbacks of eddie realizing their relationship was NOT good #and not something he needed to be looking for but nooooo we had to go full nonsense

20 notes · View notes

possumbylight · 2 years

Text

Lonely Rite

A/N: this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr despite posting on ao3 a bit recently so i wanted to start cross posting my stuff in case anybody here wants to read it too thanks for stoppin by ;)

Summary: She can’t sleep while her husband is away on a two-week business trip. so she turns to the next best thing, even if it is ten feet taller than her and made of stone.

Warnings: None! it’s fluff, and i don’t think there’s any language (if there is it’s super mild), and there’s one teeny itty bitty suggestive line at the end but it is so so mild i swear

Pairings: Zhongli/Reader, Hu Tao and Childe as pals along the way

The driving rain was her only warmth, though it slowly chilled her the longer the evening drew on. It was impractical to risk exposure to the element, but all practicality had dwindled over the past two weeks like a waning flame that finally evaporated into smoke when she had first stepped into the storm.

For two weeks, she had fought to find interest anywhere other than the nagging thoughts in her brain, seeking company from just about anyone who would humor her for even a moment. She was not usually one to stop to converse with street-side merchants for no reason but friendly chitchat-- that was more her husband’s domain, after all-- but everyone from the perfume seller to the old kite-maker to the shaky fishmonger by the docks had entertained her insatiable need to kill time.

She was running out of topics of conversation. The weather could only get her so far, and she was loath to discuss the death of Rex Lapis, given that she was not good at keeping secrets.

When she failed to sleep for the nth time since her husband’s departure, she grew sick of her ordeal, sick of the inside of her house, and sick of the empty bed that was far too big for her alone. She knew precisely where she was headed when she opened her front door, and even the bite of the stinging rain could stop her from completing her mission. It was, undoubtedly, a drastic measure, but she had put up far too long with drastic times.

Two weeks prior.

“I will not be away long, dearest,” her husband promised, though his own eyes were laced with a distinct sorrow that even his unending wisdom could not mask. “I will write when I can. Will you write to me, as well?”

“If I don’t, will you come home sooner?”

He laughed. She would miss the sound.

“I will return as soon as my job is complete.”

“And you’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I fear your boss at the book house would not appreciate your sudden departure,” he argued, frustratingly practical to the extent that it made her pout. It wasn’t fair that he always made such good points. She deserved to be impractical every now and again, but her husband always made far too much sense. “And I could hardly put you in such danger. I fear that the days ahead will be harsh. You should not be subjected to such hostilities.”

“And you should?”

“I have survived far worse.”

“Yes, but you can’t exactly hurl mountainsides anymore, can you?” She muttered under her breath, folding her arms like a cross child, if only so that he would dote upon her.

“While it is true that I cannot control the earth as I could in my youth, you underestimate my resolve. I am no feeble old man, my love. I will return to you safely, as I always have, as I always will.”

Eventually, she had been convinced, though hardly happy about it. She may have been a lowly bookstore clerk with a penchant for adventure novels, but she was also a seasoned adventurer herself. Who better to judge such subject matter than one who has experienced it firsthand?

Y/n could have easily boarded the boat with her husband and traveled to Inazuma to fulfill whatever harebrained request had been made of him. Why some random Inazuman citizen had any authority to commission a funeral parlor consultant from Liyue, she did not know, but if she ever met the doushin who had sent for her husband to cross the sea under such treacherous conditions, she would not be kind.

But despite her dramatics, she woke up the next day, rubbed her eyes of sleep all by herself, made tea all by herself, and made the walk to work all by herself, feeling all the while that the sun was a little dimmer without her companion to help guide her step.

She felt desperate. She felt pathetic, like some poor little lost puppy, following her husband around and giving him big moony eyes every time he so much as cleared his throat to speak, but before she had met him, she had been lonely for some time. She was quiet by nature, and when she had packed her life up and moved to Liyue on a whim, it hadn’t been long before she realized that her only friends were coworkers and books.

Meeting him amongst the shelves was a dream, and falling in love with him was a fresh adventure every day.

As she stepped behind the desk at the Wanwen Bookhouse, she remembered exactly where he had stood when she had first met him.

She didn’t want to bother him—most who wandered onto the top level of Wanwen Bookhouse enjoyed the quiet. The Liyue sun was good to them, pleasantly wandering across the spines of books but not so harsh that it bore down on the patrons as they leisurely paced through the shelves. She tended to let her visitors experience the shop at their own pace until they signaled a need of her.

This man, however, looked so remarkably pensive that she could not help but ask. His one hand pressed lightly to his chin and the other tucked behind his back, the only part of him that proved him not to be an elegant statue was his hair, bristling at the ends as the wind flitted through the pages around him.

“Can I help you find something today?” she asked him, approaching as though opening her hand toward a timid animal. “You look awfully deep in thought.”

He took his time responding, but his kind smile was enough to assure her that she had not overstepped. When he did speak, his voice, sturdy as stone and smooth like honey, warmed her.

“I am glad you asked. If I might take a moment of your time, I have several questions regarding this series.”

“I’d be happy to answer, sir.”

He took a single book into his gloved hands, cradling it gently yet weighing it as though assessing its contents through feel alone, as if it would somehow whisper to him the precise questions he ought to ask of her. She took his brief distraction to watch him unabashedly. The people of Liyue were pretty, certainly, but this man had eyes made of precious stone a face of ageless beauty. The way he carried himself alone was enough to make her feel only two inches tall, but the ease with which he spoke to her and the care of his words calmed her.

“I am curious about the author. Zhang Jianning is a name I have yet to encounter. Do you know of his history?”

She nodded, a quiet smile rising on her face. Thankfully, the man had asked her about a beloved adventure series, one which she was immensely fond of. If there was any single employee at the Wanwen Bookhouse who could best answer his questions, it was her.

“Zhang Jianning is actually a pen name. Call of the Ocean Void was actually written by a woman, who used the name of her husband so that she could publish her works.”

“Fascinating,” he replied, and she sensed that he meant it. Sometimes, a customer would ask her for a recommendation, and she would get overexcited at the prospect and accidentally bore the patron into pitying her, nodding along though they had stopped caring long ago. It wasn’t often, after all, that she got to talk to people about a subject she loved so dearly, so when someone asked a question, she really let herself go.

“Her name was actually Zhang Ting, and her work was revolutionary at the time. The genre was flooded with a whole lot of men telling the same stories, and when Ting published the first book of her series, it was an instant success. She revealed her true name when she finished the last installment of the series, and then published everything afterwards under her own name. But instead of changing newly published editions of Call of the Ocean Void, she kept them under her husband’s name as thanks to him.”

“That is a wonderful tale,” the man complimented her, and she flushed at the praise. It wasn’t every day that she had tall, handsome men praising her for her ability to ramble about her favorite books. “Do you enjoy this series yourself?”

“Me?”

“Yes. You are obviously quite interested in its history. Do you enjoy the content, as well?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” she explained as her fingers brushed across the book spines, coming to rest on one particular novel. “The fourth book is my favorite. It’s—well, I won’t tell you, in case you decide you’d like to read it. Do you like adventure novels?”

“I often find myself consuming solely non-fictional accounts and entirely neglecting fiction, but I have recently become quite appreciative of the thrill of adventure.”

Y/n had helped him purchase the book, and within a few days, he had returned for the next book in the series. By the fourth book, he decided that he would buy all of them at once, and she, though pleased by the idea that she had sparked his interest in a beloved series, lamented that she would no longer be encountering the man who was turning out to be her favorite customer.

As she carefully jotted down the details of his newest purchase for her records, he cleared his throat, and for the first time, she witnessed a slight discomfort in his stance.

“Miss Y/n, I wonder if you have ever taken the time to listen to the local storytellers? I find that Tian is quite skilled in his art.”

“Mr. Tian is the storyteller at Third-Round Knockout, right? I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Then, perhaps you would be interested in accompanying me tomorrow evening.”

“To… to listen to the storyteller?”

“Yes, if you would like. If you have other matters to attend, I understand.”

“No, I would like that.”

Y/n sighed sweetly at the memory, cursing her past self for being so oblivious and so cowardly. If she had accepted that their first trip to the storyteller had been their first date, then perhaps they could have moved on with the whole relationship with considerably more efficiency than they did, dawdling and pining for at least a year.

Despite the memories that lived amongst all of the shelves, she completed her job as efficiently as she could without daydreaming.

Eleven Days Prior.

Several days later, and she was desperate enough to wander into the halls of the Northland Bank, seeking the company of the man who had attempted to drown the entire city with her inside it, and yet, somehow became a friend to both her and her husband. Tartaglia, if rumor was to be believed, had killed her husband, but she only rolled her eyes at such tall tales. The bloodthirsty Eleventh Harbinger would never kill without a proper fight, and despite his grandstanding, a row with Morax was not a fight Tartaglia could reasonably win.

“I’m here to see Childe,” she muttered to the baffled attendant behind the counter. Usually when she made visits to the Northland Bank, she was accompanied by her husband, whose stately presence made up for the fact that the two of them were seemingly nobodies come to call on a high and mighty harbinger. Now all by herself, she was just a shy little civilian who no doubt appeared visibly unnerved by the hollow and clean halls of the bank.

“Lord Tartaglia does not take meetings without an appointment,” came the steady reply. The guards eyed her warily. “What is your name?”

“Y/n. I don’t have an appointment, though.”

“Then I’m afraid you will have to return once you have made the appropriate preparations.”

“Oh. Sorry, then, I—”

“Y/n! There you are, comrade.” If the voice wasn’t unmistakable, the fiery head of hair that bobbed down the stairs was a clear tell from a mile away. As soon as his boots hit the expensive marble floor, all heads in the room bowed in reverence. Y/n felt a swell of pride in her chest. “Don’t tell me that Levin was giving you a hard time.”

“He was just making sure I wasn’t coming to assassinate you, I suppose.”

“And? Are you?”

“Don’t sound so excited about it, Childe. I’m a decent adventurer, but I would be far too easy of a fight for you.”

“Yes, I fear that you would be,” he uttered, though his voice was still riddled with the humor that made his threats so chilling—the ease with which he spoke of conquest and battle, followed by a cheery laugh, made talking with him unnerving at times. It was only because he was a dazzling conversationalist and a loyal friend that she and her husband were able to skillfully repress Tartaglia’s rocky past.

“So why do you still look like you want to try it?”

“Ah, because after I’ve successfully gotten you out of the way, then your lover would have no choice but to fight me. Where is Mr. Zhongli, by the way? I’m surprised he’s left you to roam the streets alone.”

Her face scrunched so pitifully that Childe nearly laughed, had it not been for the unutterable sadness that filled her eyes.

“He’s in Inazuma,” she whined, trekking with heavy step up the stairs behind him. “Some stupid doushin asked for his expertise on a case or something.”

“Inazuma. That’s awfully far. How long will he be gone?”

“Two weeks.”

“Aw, poor little thing. You look like someone’s knocked the wind right out of your sails. But, if you’re lonely, we could always go outside the city and find some treasure hoarders to knock around a bit.”

She pondered the idea longer than she was proud of.

“Ask again in a few days,” she finally sighed. “I might get bored enough to take you up on that.”

One Week Prior.

She had, several days later, taken up Tartaglia on his offer to go adventuring, and even though he had been more than happy to take care of any enemy that passed their way, y/n still ended up aching in the joints and riddled with little cuts and bruises all over every inch of skin that had been exposed during their journey.

So, she hobbled up the long and arduous path to Bubu Pharmacy, praying to all the archons that the tall stairs would miraculously shorten to make her journey less painful.

“How am I supposed to pray to Rex Lapis for the earth to bend to my will,” she muttered bitterly as she heaved another step upward, “when he’s out of town on a business trip?”

“Good afternoon, y/n! You’re looking a little worse for wear. Might I inquire as to why you’re so beaten up?”

Hu Tao skidded to a halt beside her, and somewhere, Qiqi let out a relieved sigh that the director had been momentarily sidetracked by another potential client.

“I went out adventuring yesterday, to pass the time.”

“To pass the time, or to pass away? You know, I have been designing an attractive pair of couple’s coffins for you and Mr. Zhongli, but if you go ahead and die now, you’ll get a significant discount.”

“I don’t plan on dying right now, but thank you,” y/n muttered, somewhat gratefully. She had been quite sure at the bottom of the stairs that she would survive to the top, but somewhere around the middle, her faith in herself wavered.

“Let me know if you change your mind. Have you heard from Mr. Zhongli since he’s been gone?”

“Mm, he sent me a couple letters. The weather’s been rough in Inazuma lately. Apparently, their stormy season is particularly trying.”

Y/n grimaced as she recalled her husband’s wording, and the way she knew he was masking some of the peril he had experienced. No doubt, he was trying his best to keep her from worrying so much that she hopped on the next boat out of town and tried to fight the Raiden Shogun in his honor.

My dearest y/n,

I write to inform you that I have safely landed in Inazuma’s port at Ritou. The maple trees are rich with color, and the air is clean, when the storms have subsided. Ritou is lined with quaint little markets, and I have found the time to pick up a few souvenirs you will no doubt find interesting.

I did remember my wallet, this time.

The famed Yae Publishing House is my next prospect, and I intend to visit as soon as I have reasonable time. Perhaps if I find a suitable novel, I can read it aloud to you when I return. Though, I miss your voice so much I may request that you read it aloud to me, at least for a night. I could never fully give up the sight of you curled up at my side, dozing off to sleep at the sound of my voice.

I hope you are faring well in my absence. I know how reluctant you were to leave me by the docks, and it pained me just as much to watch as you faded into the distance. I could see the tears in your eyes, and my heart begged me to beseech the captain to turn the boat around just so that I could comfort you.

I digress—I do not wish to make you feel lonely.

Inazuma is a beautiful nation, despite its weather becoming volatile at times. There is no need to worry, however, as my lodging during my journey provides me a sturdy roof. I doubt, as well, that this nation’s archon would be so quick to strike me down with her lightning.

Rest assured that the Shogun’s thunder is a terror I have survived many a time.

I hope to bring you here someday, during a season in which the weather is far more temperate. The Sakura trees surrounding the Grand Narukami Shrine are loveliest at the peak of their blooms, and I believe you would enjoy the long and winding walk to the mountain’s peak. The pathway is paved with stone, and the red of the wooden terraces is rich against the pale blue of the sky.

Nothing compares, however, to the way you shine under the Liyue sun. I hope the sun shines on the day I return to you, darling, but even if it does not, I will be equally overjoyed to see you.

All my love,

Zhongli

Y/n hoped that Hu Tao couldn’t read the way her lip barely trembled at the thought of the poetic letter. She wished, after all the beautiful books she had read, of all the brilliant and descriptive words she knew, that she could write nearly as well as Zhongli. He always went on about how he loved the way her words sounded on her tongue or on the page, but she knew that she was hardly impressive compared to him.

She swooned when he so much as asked her to pass the sugar bowl.

Hu Tao, despite having offered y/n a comfortable means of transport to the afterlife, helped her up the stairs until Dr. Baizhu could properly prescribe a salve that would hopefully heal all of her wounds by the time her husband arrived, though she wasn’t opposed to the idea of her beloved doting on her as he cooed at how pitiful her wounds looked.

Perhaps she would skip a few applications and let Zhongli give her a massage, for good measure.

Four Days Prior.

She stared down the incense burner with an intense passion, as though lighting the embers with her very eyes. Of course, she could write letters to her husband, but it wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t nearly as comforting as talking to him in person, and even though he wasn’t nearly as involved in Liyue’s affairs as before, he was still at least semi-divine, so she was willing to stake her chances that he might hear her should she direct all her wishes to Rex Lapis’s little effigy that sat atop the stone burner instead of waiting for Zhongli to reply.

She spoke to him with little regard for the other supplicants milling about the terrace—if anyone should hear her, they would likely think her some enthusiast of the former Geo Archon, mourning his loss and pining for his return.

“I miss you,” she spoke as the fragrance began warming the air around her. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I miss you so much it hurts.”

Waiting on a sign was silly, but she still hoped beyond hope that the smoke might give her some kind of signal. When nothing happened, she addressed him again, this time listing all of the names she could remember, just in case. The earth might not respond to Zhongli, but it would certainly recognize Morax.

“Zhongli. Rex Lapis. Lord of Geo. Morax. If you can hear me, you should say something now so I don’t look like a buffoon talking to a dead god.”

It could have been her eyes playing tricks on her—her sleep schedule had been wretched in her husband’s absence—but the smoke gave a slight hitch to the left as it rose.

“Yes, I know you’re not actually dead, but no one else knows that. What’s the point of marrying a former god if he can’t hear you when you pray to him?”

She sighed, sitting down on the sun-soaked pavement with her legs crossed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. I just forgot how lonely I was before I met you. Now that we spend so much time with each other, it’s hard to be away from you for this long without going mad. I’m starting to doubt that you can hear me at this point, but if you can, please try to cut your trip short. I don’t know if I’ll last four more days.”

For the next hour, she sat in the sun and mumbled sweet supplications to Rex Lapis, hoping that at least one of them would reach his ears.

He had told her of his identity the night he asked her to marry him. It was a prerequisite, he said. Before he asked her the all-important question, he had to ensure that she was comfortable with all of him—his past, present and future selves.

“Y/n, if we are to proceed with this relationship, I must inform you of something which might alter the course of your feelings towards me. I… have not always been a funeral parlor consultant.”

She expected that perhaps he had been wild in his youth, running with treasure hoarders or engaging in the shady trade that always littered the lower docks. Never could she have imagined that his prior job had been Geo Archon, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He had, more times than she could count, corrected arrogant historians on minute details, filling in narrative holes with all sorts of odd accounts that somehow lined up entirely with historical fact.

Besides that, there was one occasion on which Tartaglia had referred to Zhongli as, “the guy who sealed up Osial in the first place,” which y/n had written off as some strange inside joke between the two.

The night he had revealed the truth to her, it had taken her several hours of questioning, which he had valiantly endured, to adjust to the new information, though her heart never thought twice about her decision to agree to his proposal. When he finally asked the question, she responded so immediately that it shocked him.

“Darling, I am overjoyed to hear this, but I must ask if you are sure. This is quite a lot to take in at once. If you require a few days’ thought, I would understand.”

“I know my answer now. I love you—every bit of you, even the parts that are complicated. I don’t mind what other names you’ve been called in the past, or other lives you’ve lived. You’re my Zhongli now, and you’ll be my Zhongli forever, if you’d like.”

“That is more than I could ever ask.”

When she agreed to marry him, she never pictured herself awaiting his return by sitting cross-legged before his draconic visage, muttering under her breath for only the cool stone to hear. It was worth it, however, to feel that he was so close even when he was so far away. No one else in the harbor could claim that their lover’s figure sat handsomely etched in stone in statues overlooking the city. She was the only one who could confirm whether Rex Lapis at all resembled his statues.

And she was quite smug about that, as well.

One hour prior.

He begged his heart not to expect the sight of her at the docks, her figure swaying amongst the silhouetted crowd as his ship crested the horizon and set for the docks. He had not discussed his arrival time with her, as he did not know it himself, and thus, it would be impractical for him to assume that she lingered at the docks for his return.

Even still, when he saw that the docks were empty at such late hours of the night, his heart stung with the pang of loneliness that would have to last just a bit longer.

He filled his mind instead with visions of her swaddled in blankets, chest rising with steady breath as she dreamed peacefully. When he finally arrived home, he could finally remove his business clothes, let loose his hair, and participate in that sweet domestic ritual of curling up in bed beside his wife, wishing to see her eyes but hating to wake her.

When he opened the bedroom door to find the house entirely empty, he fought to keep himself level. Surely, there was a reasonable answer for this. She had written him hardly a day prior, so he assumed her to be still in good health. Perhaps, even, she had overexerted herself in filling his absence, attending some late-night party from which she would eventually crawl home, exhausted and socially spent.

He doubted this. She had begun to appreciate light conversation more since the start of their relationship, but she was hardly the type to stay out past bedtime to engage in any social activities.

He searched the whole house one more time, thoroughly exhausting all his options until he was left with only the impractical—his wife could hardly fit in the vase by the fireplace, but he had to be sure of this. Compiling a list of her most frequent haunts, he took to the streets, not caring a single bit that the gray clouds had pooled all in one adumbral mass above the harbor, pouring rain that startled the seas with its force.

The Wanwen Bookhouse was, of course, closed at such a late hour, its wares sheltered in billowing tarps that pushed and pulled loudly in the strong winds. He thought she may be there, too, drenching herself to the bone as she fought to keep the pages of her favorite books safe, but she was not hiding amongst the shelves.

The Terrace was empty, save for the dimming light of the glaze lilies, closing their buds to the storm that threatened to pull their stalks from the earth. The incense that had once burned in the public altar was dampened entirely. Just as he was about to head for his next destination, however, the dome of a single lavender umbrella cut through the driving rain.

“Mr. Zhongli, I am surprised to find you here at this hour,” Keqing spoke in measured tone, as though it was perfectly normal for her to be there at that hour. “You’re soaking wet. Might I offer you an umbrella from my office for your journey home?”

“Forgive me, Lady Keqing, I do not mean to be abrupt, but I cannot seem to find my wife.”

“Quite alright, Mr. Zhongli. I assumed she had met you at the docks. I haven’t seen her since yesterday, but if I do, I will be sure to let her know that you’re looking for her.”

“Thank you, Lady Yuheng.”

He was gone long before he could acknowledge the quiet wave of farewell she gave. His next destination—and he prayed this to be wrong—was the pharmacy, where a single lamp flickered in the front office.

“Good evening. Or… is it now morning? Qiqi… does not own a watch.”

“Qiqi, have you seen my wife?” he questioned hurriedly, forgetting in his haste that the smallest of the pharmacy employees was also the slowest.

“Your… wife? You are Mr. Zhongli. Qiqi wrote down your name, because you always compliment Qiqi on the selection of violetgrass. Should Qiqi call for Dr. Baizhu?”

“No, thank you, Qiqi.”

A wasted venture, but one that took him to one of the last locations on his list, and the one place he would find someone who might truly have information. The Northland Bank was, after all, open at all hours of the day and night.

“Enjoying the rain, Zhongli? You don’t seem like the type to go out without an umbrella. I’d be happy to lend a few mora, if you need to procure a new one.”

“Thank you, Childe, but I fear an umbrella would be of no use to me at this point. Pardon me, but I do not have time to speak with you just now, I—”

“No time to speak?” Tartaglia asked him with a strange sort of glimmer in his eye that caught in the moonlight. “That’s odd. It’s rare that you don’t have a story to tell me, though, I suppose it makes sense. You wouldn’t go out in the rain and get soaked for no reason. Tell me, Zhongli, what’s your mission today? You look awfully determined.”

Zhongli sighed. Childe was, by some odd event, a friend to him, and though the two had spent hours exchanging stories, Zhongli was in no mood to humor his friend’s conversation, however amicable. As the hour drew on, his worry grew until it sat heavy right in the center of his chest.

“I have been looking for my wife, to no avail. I am aware that she is capable, but I am beginning to worry.”

“Y/n has certainly been lonely since you left on your little adventure. She’s stopped by the bank on more than one occasion, just to chat. The first time it happened, I thought something must be wrong. I’m not used to seeing one of you without the other at this point.”

“Childe, have you seen her today?”

“I haven’t. But, I might have an idea of where she may be.”

“I would be incredibly grateful for any information you are willing to spare.”

“She’s with you, of course,” Childe answered with a laugh, as though it should be obvious. When Zhongli’s brow furrowed, the younger man’s smile only grew. “I did say that I hardly see one of you without the other, didn’t I? So where else would she be, than with you?”

Childe lifted one long arm to point upwards towards the horizon, dotted with brightening stars that grew as the sun dissipated behind the harbor’s wavering border. Rising tall, just above the rolling hills beyond the city’s gates, stood a singular, familiar figure, glowing faint blue against the darkening sky.

“I see,” Zhongli whispered. The waver in his tone faded into a fondness that untied the great knot of worry that had tangled his heart. It was silly, of course—he should have been upset that his most beloved had ventured out into the rain on such a wild and sentimental hare, but he could not bring himself to feel even the slightest bit of resentment towards her.

He had left her alone for two weeks. It was only reasonable that she should seek comfort in the next best thing. He hardly took time to thank Tartaglia before rushing towards the hillside, following the faint glow of the Statue of the Seven.

As he approached the statue, he saw her, shadowed by stone and sky, huddled into an uncomfortable mass on the statue’s lap. He fended off the passing sting of jealousy—it was his lap, but it wasn’t.

He hardly had trouble making his way up to the top, though as he did, he could not help but wonder how she had climbed there, and in the rain, of all things, but he thought to ask her later. There were far more pressing issues on his mind.

“Darling, wake up,” he cooed, brushing his fingers across the side of her face and warmed at the precious sight of her squirming and mumbling sleepily. “We need to get you out of this rain. You’ll fall ill in this cold.”

“Zhongli,” she whispered, as though in the midst of a sweet dream. “Get home, already. I can’t sleep when you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry, dearest. I am here now. Come—let me take you home.”

“Mmhmm. Okay. Carry me?”

“Of course. Hold on tight.”

“You’re really home?”

“Yes, my love, I am truly home.”

“Oh, no,” she whined, burying her head into his chest. “I’m sorry. You must be tired, and here I’m making you carry me. You can put me down, I can walk on my own.”

“Nonsense. How long have you been curled up against nothing but unyielding stone? It is my pleasure to carry you home, dear.”

She hummed happily as he crossed the threshold of their house, the amber glow of the kitchen lamp flushing their cheeks red with warmth as they sought shelter from the cold rain. Once she was on her own two feet, she quickly returned to the cradle of his arms, hiding herself away against him as though he would disappear if she did not hold him close enough.

“I must seem pathetic,” she whimpered, and he only laughed in response. The gracious rumble in his chest was enough to give her a smile of her own.

“Of course not. Should it be of interest to you, I found it difficult to sleep apart from you as well. The only way I found myself able to close my eyes at all was because I kept something of yours with me.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Oh, I—” he stammered, uncharacteristically flustered at the sudden turn of the conversation that placed all attention on him. “I borrowed a shirt of yours.”

“My green shirt? The one with the pocket on the front? So that’s where it’s been.”

“I apologize if you missed it.”

“I missed it a little, but not as much as I missed you.”

“That is good to hear,” he sighed. He pressed his lips quietly to her forehead, letting himself enjoy the weight of her in his arms before he went to move again, this time taking her by the hand and leading her towards the bedroom. “Come now, darling. We should rid ourselves of these clothes before we both fall ill.”

“Oh?”

“What an odd look in your eyes, dear. I am merely suggesting that you should not remain in wet clothes for very long, for your health.”

“You’re not suggesting anything else?”

He did not respond, but the twitch of his mouth gave him away, and she grasped his hand, eager to follow wherever he may lead.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli fluff #genshin impact imagine #god i am shit at writing specific tags so i hope these work #also if you read this far thanks for reading and i love you

152 notes · View notes

bleuangel88 · 1 year

Text

On Dylan Shakes

We have one major mystery down!

While many of us probably suspected that Dylan Shakes was alive and that he had gotten away from his father's abuse, it was lovely to have that confirmation during Harlan Coben's Shelter Season 1 Episode 6.

It was also so touching to have that reunion between Dylan and Mrs. Friedman.

The reveal that Sunglasses Man was Dylan Shakes tied up one of many threads in this series.

Dylan definitely knew how much his absence affected Mrs. Friedman, who wanted to adopt him. I wish he had given her some closure much sooner. She deserved that rather than death threats.

With the number of mysteries that this series drops at us rapidly, it's nice to have a clear-cut answer for at least one of them and bits and pieces of things coming together for some others.

Shelter has been a blast to watch because the characters and cast are so much fun that you'll watch them do anything.

And we have, whether or not we could follow along with whatever they're doing or not.

I could watch a whole series of just Mickey Bolitar, Ema, and Spoon being regular teenagers who aren't trying to serve as a Gen Z Scooby-Doo.

On Whitney

Whitney hurt Ema beyond forgiveness, in my book. She knows how her brother is, and it doesn't matter if he blackmailed her. He'll always have that information on his sister and will do whatever he pleases with the second she stands up to him.

She'd do better owning up to what she did before he could release it so she could be free of him.It's such a shallow, self-absorbed issue on Whitney's part that she sold Ema, a girl she genuinely seems to like, out over some followers controversy on an app.

It's such childish dumb stuff, yet for teenagers, it's their entire world, so as frustrating as this development is, I can't even say it's unrealistic.Maybe Ema will be able to forgive Whitney, and maybe not. They were an endearing potential couple.

But it's hard to get past something like that, especially when Ema has learned that there are peers of hers who have more backbone and can do what's right.

She has Spoon and Mickey Bolitar as best friends, so it's hard not to have a certain level of expectation for future relationships, platonic, romantic, or otherwise.

Maybe she and Whitney will end up like Shira and Hannah.

On Hannah, Ken, Shira

But Hannah Taylor has gotten a new lease on life from the second Shira came back into town. It was like she needed Shira to free herself.

On the one hand, that's endearing as far as their love story goes and how much Hannah loves Shira, but on the other hand, that puts a lot on Shira.

There is no way this plays out where Shira doesn't feel like she's the reason a family is splitting up and Hannah is doing all these things.

Hannah can't do all the things she desires because of Shira. She should be willing to do these things for herself.

And Shira is placed in the middle of this marriage in many uncomfortable ways. Ken seeking Shira's advice at the memorial was awkward.

He thinks there is an avenue for him to get his wife back because he spent years not even knowing that she was unhappy.

He may mean everything he says, and he'll try to make improvements moving forward, but it's too late, and as terrible as Ken is as a husband, he also doesn't deserve to get blindsided without even a chance to know how to make things better.

It sucks that they got this far into their marriage without resolving their issues. This sets things up where if he learns the truth about Hannah and Shira, he'll think about Shira breaking up his marriage or Hannah deceiving him and not thinking about his role in their marriage dissolution.

Hell, chances are he'll probably wonder if Hannah ever actually loved him or even Shira back in high school. When you think about it, what stops Ken from feeling like he was a glorified beard for 25 years?

Did Hannah ever love Ken Taylor at all? Or did she love having this piece of Shira? And that goes for Ken, too.

But Shira's issues are apparent. Initially, it felt like Shira would be the one set up for hurt, and there's a chance that remains the case. But there's also a matter of Hannah getting hit worse.

She's ready to blow up her life that wasn't making her happy anymore and start anew with Shira, and the prospect of that seems to terrify Shira and has her ready to shut down.

It's a challenging situation, and Shira seems more afraid of its fallout than Hannah, which could influence her position and why she's pushing Hannah away right now.Ultimately, they deserve to be happy, preferably together, with the truth out in the open, consequences be damned.

#tv fanatic #harlan coben's shelter

21 notes · View notes

thecurioustale · 7 months

Note

Two questions:

1. You’ve mentioned before that you write on a very, very old laptop called Joshiba. Do you have your ATH and GF drafts backed up somewhere in case it dies? 2. Out of everything you’ve ever written, what’s your favorite sentence?

1. You’ve mentioned before that you write on a very, very old laptop called Joshiba. Do you have your ATH and GF drafts backed up somewhere in case it dies?

Oh yes. Data loss is one of my least favorite things. Losing some fanfic files on the family computer as a kid cemented that aversion into me. And yet I have lost data many times since then, most notably in 2010 when my laptop Archimedes died out of nowhere, which killed most of my music compositions from one of my most important periods.

I'm quite paranoid about data loss. These days I will typically make a backup every three or four months (or less if I have done a lot of writing or otherwise feel the need to back something up sooner), and I have more than one independent backup device.

I actually got a warning just this morning on my main computer about an impending hard drive failure, so I did a full backup of that one and ordered a replacement drive.

2. Out of everything you’ve ever written, what’s your favorite sentence?

That's a deliciously provocative question, and there are so many different ways I could tackle it.

It would very likely be a fiction sentence, as I both care about my fiction more and put more effort into editing and refining it. But I should at least mention that I've done some nonfiction sentences that I'm really proud of. I love it when I can elegantly bring a thesis together, or synthesize a truly fascinating new idea, or perfectly summarize a thing. In all cases, my great nonfiction sentences are masterpieces of insightfulness and clarity. Clarity and insightfulness are the common factors, the reason you would spend your precious time reading my often-verbose, self-indulgent ramblings.

I don't have any such sentences in mind off the top of my head, sadly, or I would happily share one. I suppose I can leave it to anyone who has been a longtime reader of my journal to volunteer any favorites they can think of.

To get on with the fiction:

I put a lot of thought into first sentences: the first sentence in an entire story; the first sentence in a chapter or section; the first sentence introducing a new character; their first sentence of dialogue. When it makes sense to do so, and when I have the opportunity, I also put a lot of thought into last sentences.

There are the "high art" sentences, the ones that attempt some feat of technical prowess or showcase my skills or artistry. These tend to be longer and/or highly stylistic.

There are the "punchy" sentences: short sentences that comprise their own paragraph to underscore a point, ideally to resounding effect.

There are sentences that I am personally biased toward for external reasons, such as ones involving Silence doing Silence stuff.

There are sentences that have deep, personal resonance for whatever reason.

There are the sentences that depart from literality and become in some way transcendental, often assuming an omniscient voice and openly musing in the company of the reader.

There are sentences that don't look like much on their own but become very powerful in context. (Not unlike the aforementioned "punchy" sentences.)

And of course there are miscellaneous sentences that I just like for whatever reason.

(It's also worth noting that, with the way I write, often the great stuff is only resolvable down to the paragraph level, not the level of individual sentences. And some of it is only resolvable down to the scene level, with no great sentences per se even if the scene itself is very strong.)

Different sentences can excel in different ways, each in turn making a compelling case to be my "favorite." I can like sentences because of some aspect of their structure—their rhythm, for instance, or their alliteration or some other literary quality, or their feel on the tongue or in the eye. Or I can like sentences because of their imagery, the contents they convey, irrespective of their structure. Or I can like them because of their meta function, their role in advancing or pulling together the story or important thoughts therein. And so on. I don't consider these various properties comparable, which makes it very difficult to conceive of one supreme sentence above all others.

Even if that weren't so, the way my memory works also makes it virtually impossible for me to select a favorite without going back and rereading all the fiction I've ever written (lol) or whatever subset thereof I think most likely to produce leading candidates for my favorite.

In lieu of this I am quite limited in what my memory is able to recall at the moment on its own. The sentence that has stuck with me the most in recent months is not especially remarkable on its own; it is one of those "Silence doing Silence stuff" sentences and it really loses a lot of its punch without the context of its paragraph and wider scene, and since it is also something of a spoiler I don't think I will post it here, but it's basically an affirmation of her power, which I love.

Since writing the previous paragraph I spent over an hour looking for a good sentence in order to give you something approaching a satisfying answer, but alack my brain was not plugged into creative writing mode at all today and so I have found this a most unapproachable, inapprehensible exercise tonight. It's funny how, some days, it's like the text itself changes. There are times when I absolutely love this stuff, and times when I just don't connect with it at all, and sadly today is one of the latter.

But perhaps if you could refine the question (and catch me on a better day)? I often find that this helps to unlock my mind, if the derivative question has some new substance which helps me to conceive of the query differently.

Anyway! I've written quite a few sentences in my life. Maybe, given my complete uselessness, it would be better to ask the people who have read some of them what they think. I'd be curious to know, myself.

I can tell you one of the leading candidates for my favorite sentences that I haven't written, however. It's from Dickens:

And Scrooge said often afterwards, that of all the blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears.

For context, the preceding sentence is:

He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or four good-humoured fellows said, "Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!"

And I suppose that says a lot about me.

#Charles Dickens #Philosophy of writing

12 notes · View notes

soulsxng · 7 months

Note

The invitation envelope is sealed with blue wax, the outline of the Meriet royal seal carefully pressed into the the center. The invitation itself consists of a single letter that reads:

❝The kingdom of Brecaea cordially invites you to join them in celebrating the Festival of the Blue Moon. We humbly look forward to your presence in ushering in a new lunar season that is set to begin on at . We advise that you dress in light, airy clothing and have footwear that will not be damaged by any amount of water. We also advise that you arrive by sunset on the first day of the festivities in order to fully experience the welcoming ceremony.❞

Along the bottom of the letter, the words “Please dip in water and turn over.” is written in neat lettering along the bottom of the invitation card. Once done, the rest of the letter continues as follows:

❝An additional, private gathering will be held at Castle Luvalon throughout the entire event. Overnight accommodations will be provided to all guests with this invitation. We advise you keep it in a safe place, to bring it with you on your travels, and to present it to castle staff upon arrival. Your host, Queen Dakota Tetrarch of Meriburn❞

(for those attending the Brecaea party)

@sansloii

"You're going to come with? That's surprising; I thought you hated socializing and party stuff."

Jawyr laughed at the look his father gave him over his shoulder-- the older man rolling his eyes as he nodded his head outside the window, to where the gigantic crystal, Innaius floated in the air above the castle grounds.

"Very funny. I just don't like socializing and party stuff when it concerns a gaggle of prying or stuffy nobility, and whatever other gossip mongers decide to swarm me the second I'm by myself. But...Lerato wants to visit Cassandra and Dakota with Joseph, and I'd rather not risk him running out of energy and collapsing while on an entirely different continent. So we'll be heading to Brecaea first, and leaving halfway through to go to Meriburn...granted no word comes that I'm needed back here. The others should be able to keep a handle on things in the meantime, though...and if not, we teleport back."

- - - - - -

"Are you sure you and Rei should be going? With the way current events are right now, it'll be risky."

"You're coming as well, Varius. Do you not feel like you'd be able to protect us, if it came to that?"

The Setian guard falls silent, expression a conflicted twist. Naturally, if something happened then he would protect his king-- it was as simple as that. Not that Fekik needed it (and Areix would be especially safe, as Fei would sooner see himself killed than allow anyone to lay a finger on his youngest), but...well, Varius wasn't quite sure. He couldn't exactly say that he had a bad feeling.

After a few moments, he finally shook his head and relented. If they were going, then he would simply resolve to keep a close eye on everything and everyone!

- - - - - -

"If you're bringing Harailt, then I'll be inviting Iki. No offense, but I'm really not looking to third-wheel you the whole party."

The young prince was seated comfortably on a couch, feet kicked up on the arm of it as he regarded his older brother; the king. Alkaid was telling him about some party they'd be attending in Brecaea...honestly, he hadn't really been paying attention to all the details. It had been a while since he'd been able to bring Iki to anything like this, so most of the time that his brother had been talking, he'd been busy thinking up everything that he wanted to have prepared for her.

They were already friendly with Brecaea, so it's not like there had to be a lot of planning toward how to socialize and gain favor with them. He could look into the specifics of the gathering a little later.

"You don't have to say it like that; you would have invited her regardless of if Harailt came with us...just don't go too crazy on whatever you're plotting. You'll end up making yourself freak out if it can't all get done in time."

#sansloii #[royalty verse]#[Jaspern -threads-]#[JJ -threads-]#[Fekik -threads-]#[Varius -threads-]#[Antares -threads-]#[Alkaid -threads-]#And then similarly to the Meriburn side #Vasyri and the Plains will probably also have some representatives at the festivities!

6 notes · View notes

dgcatanisiri · 2 years

Text

A week post move out and it's still not quite sinking in fully.

Like I think part of it is that there was this hope or expectation that the results would be something a little more tangible sooner. Y'know, the money that was supposed to come in for that has already been earmarked for things (cuz mom's car needs a new engine, which is ten thousand bucks, which eats that up immediately, and then there were a couple of bills that had been there for a while that she wanted to pay off since they related to services rendered about the house...). That means that we can't even buy ourselves something nice just yet (of course, that also leads to an argument surrounding the credit card, since she tends to pay off the minimum amount on that, which just eats the interest, not the principle, and so means we can't use the card in case of emergency...).

Also, after five years, I've kinda built up the habit of 'we need to go in once or twice a week to pick up mom's mail,' so in not not doing that, I keep feeling like we're forgetting to do something.

And then there's the part of me that's all just 'I want to see what these people who moved in are doing to my home.' But, of course, it's NOT my home anymore, and I have no right or business going there and saying 'hey, show me everything!'

*sigh* I'll adjust, eventually. But I AM worried that my mother and my aunt will end up coming to blows because of all the junk my mother just... ISN'T going through from the house - mom has a chair she moves around in, she doesn't see a problem with STUFF in every possible seat in the house, she doesn't entertain guests while my aunt is an absolute host to anyone who comes over, and, of course, there's the hoarding tendencies where we've found papers that are older than the dog (and I mean the one who died four years ago and we got my senior year of high school, let alone the other two) amid all this crap that serve no purpose for anyone...

Like yeah, there's a lot of stuff that SHOULD just get straightforward tossed into the garbage bin we rented (and will be picked up on Monday because that's all the time we rented it for), but we still need to go through this stuff because some of it is personal documents that need to be shredded!

And yeah, about 90% of all the crap to sort through IS hers. But we can only really make her go through so much at one time before she starts complaining and it's just... This is your problem, of your own creation, why are you complaining to us? You need to resolve it!

But that's really the thing with her. HER problems always become OUR problems, where WE have to resolve it, and she complains whether we do or don't help her - and, in not helping her, we're STILL stuck with the problem. Cuz she'll just leave it there and ignore it, and that's not actually going to help with this stuff!

We really can't store this for long. But if she doesn't make progress, we're stuck with it.

#dg gets personal #dg has mother issues

2 notes · View notes

cavefilllingcorporation · 12 days

Text

Meeting to Resolve Colony Stockpile Tie

On 9/3/2024, the investors received a decision of what they should do regarding the Dream Colony’s excess stock. Either to leave it alone, take only what the CFC would take every quarter, or take it all now. Unfortunately, after the weeklong vote, it came down to a tie between leaving everything alone or taking it all. The following is a board meeting to discuss the results, and have a vote of their own.

CEO: So, I see that today everybody except for [The Admiral] is here.

The Dimension Master: And… HIM.

CEO: Yes, but at this point, it doesn’t need to be stated directly. Anyways, as you are all aware, the Investors tied between leaving all of the resources alone or taking all of the built-up resource on the Dream Colony.

The Scientist: A shame. If we had more investors, the chances of this happening would have been much lower.

CEO: Yes, but that’s something we can’t fix now. What we can do is figure out where we go from here.

The Extrovert: We could always just host the vote again.

The General: Nope. Can’t do that. [The Admiral]’s really desperate for some supplies, and he can’t wait anymore. Besides, isn’t this pushing the issue past the quarter report?

The Grand Director: [The General] is right. We have to get this done sooner than later… Still, I didn’t think that you of all people would be standing in for [The Admiral].

The General: Nobody here is going to do it. Besides, that idiot needs somebody to take care of his affairs while he’s stuck in negotiations. It’s hard work doing your job [The Extrovert].

CEO: Alright, calm down you two! We’re not here to start fights!

The Supreme Supervisor: What if we just compromise?

The Scientist: And how would we do that? The options that the investors chose are exclusive to each other. Either we take everything, or none at all. How would we decide what to choose and not to choose.

CEO: [The Scientist] is right as well. So, I propose that we have this come down to a vote. With just us.

The Introvert: Alright, then I’m already putting my vote out. I’m not saying its abuse or anything, but to take away all of their stuff is… concerning at least.

The Extrovert: Are you kidding? With that kind of stuff, we can make a ton of money. Pay off all of the debts that we have incurred with the colony project!

The Introvert: We would pay those off eventually.

The Extrovert: But paying them off sooner is better for everyone.

The Grand Director: I also agree. The chance to receive a ton of real produce for our kitchens is a huge deal, you don’t understand. It would take a chunk off of our expenses, albeit temporarily.

The Supreme Supervisor: But what about the absence products? We’re going to have to process of that food, which is going to take a long time, and won’t be that great for our workers.

The Scientist: I have to concur. At the rate we are building up side project absence goods, we’re going to have a second Anti-Project Plan after the first. This just makes it worse.

The General: Ah, you’re paranoid. Its not like they’re going to have to process thousands of crates of oil, just thousands of other items… You know what, I’m not involved with this. I abstain!

The Dimension Master: I’m abstaining too. I have almost nothing to do with this.

The CEO: Well, my vote is for the resources being drained. While it’s not a fun fact to reflect on, we do have to recognize the danger of them being self-sufficient. I know it sounds harsh, but we have over a thousand colonists on those islands. Giving them their own stockpiles could make them feel like they could be independent, and we could lose a very good income source… and now I realize I believe we are tied.

The Dimension Master: Well, lets see. We have you, Extrovert, and Grand Director for team drain, the Introvert, Supreme Supervisor, and Scientist for team no, and the General and I are abstaining. Crud, we do have a tie.

Suddenly, a hologram flickers on, and the image of the Admiral comes to life.

CEO: Ah, [The Admiral], glad you could join us! I thought you said that you couldn’t make it.

The Admiral: I thought so. I’m currently cooped up at the moment, but fortunately I’m able to get an encrypted transmission up and running. The people of this planet won’t even know a transmission is being sent.

The General: So, what’s keeping the great mastermind hiding like a coward, huh?

The Admiral: Sighs. I’m not going to reveal personal information while the investors are listening in. The meeting is recorded, right?

The CEO: Yes, and in fact, the board was having a vote to try and to resolve the tie over the matter of taking the colony stockpiles. Unfortunately, we have also run into a tie, so could you perhaps be our tiebreaker?

The Admiral: Very well then. My vote is to take it all.

The Scientist: But why?

The Admiral: I assume you are aware of the existence of our two new clients?

The Supreme Supervisor: Two? I was only made aware of the one. The Investors’ blog didn’t mention anything?

The Admiral: You seriously didn’t read my emails?

The Supreme Supervisor: You sent like dozens of them, all of them about small updates and whatnot. I didn’t think you were going to send something that big!

The Admiral: Whatever, I’m sure the social media team will get to the announcement eventually. The point is, we have two clients, possibly more on the way, and are stuck in the Anti-Project Plan. We have nothing to give them! Fortunately, we can partially satisfy them with food, and the colony also has metals that I can use. Simply put, we need those, now.

The CEO: Alright then. The vote is now passed. We’re taking everything. I was going to have the Investors vote on how much supplies get sent over to the new clients, but that was when we just had the one. We’ll keep the absence products and everything you won’t need, you can keep the rest to keep our new clients happy. Though it will be a while. Also, don’t expect this month’s thing either, at least don’t guarantee it. We’ll check if the Investors want to give them a break this year for this.

The Admiral: Fair enough. Considering this will be thousands of Crates I can keep in storage, I should be able to keep them fed for months…

Final results on Vote to take everything from Dream Colony stockpiles:

CEO: Yes

Dimension Master: Abstain

The General: Abstain

The Admiral: Yes

The Scientist: No

Introvert: No

Extrovert: Yes

Grand Director: Yes

Supreme Supervisor: No

{Not all ties will be resolved like this, but things came up, and I wanted to get this finished.}

#evil fiction corporation #fiction #short story #short fiction

0 notes

sisterssafespace · 1 year

Note

Asalamualaykum i pray you're well❤️. Ive been really struggling to distance myself from my non Muslim friends and cut ties from them. When i am around them it really affects my eeman and to them im the friend that is always available and easily accessible. I do have Muslim friends but its is hard to see them as often as my non Muslim friends. I also do spend a lot of time alone but i try not to spend to much time alone because i dont want to fall into sin. If im being honest i also have this issue with alot of my non Practising Muslim family. I struggle to say "no" to them all. Could really do with some advice on how to deal with these situations 🥺. May Allah reward you and keep you steadfast❤️.

Wa alaykum assalamu wa rahmatu Allahi wa barakatuhu sweetie,

Your ask was very earnest Allahuma barik, it always warms my heart to get such asks from sisters who are trying to become a better Muslimah, are curious, eager to learn, May Allah set bless you immensely ✨

However, I felt a little out of my depth here because I was born and raised in a Muslim-majority country so I did not have similar experiences, that is why I asked the opinion of my sisters and I got you a great answer. I just want to say one thing before I let you know what she said. I, honestly, don't think you should completely cut ties with your non-muslim friends, you should definitely not associate with their non-halal activities like if they are free mixing, going to parties, going somewhere where there is drinking and stuff, skipping your prayers to hang out with them, that's absolutely a no, without having to compromise for anyone. But being or becoming a Muslim does not mean you delete their number or block them or stop having conversations with them. On the contrary, now you have a mission to get them to know real Islam through you, through your kindness, your truthfulness, your generosity, your humbleness, your modesty, your smile, good manners and good character. You may inspire one or some of them to want to learn more about our beautiful religion and challenge their prejudice on Islam. If you just cut ties with them, you might as well reinforce those prejudices. Islam is not a religion of narrow-mindenedss and discrimination. It is the total opposite. Islam promotes tolerance and acceptance, and you should show them that 🤍.

Now that was my humble opinion and I will leave you with the brilliant and sweet answer of one of my favorite sisters:

" I think it's actually mature to embrace the current situation and work on personal growth while keeping those connections alive with her Muslim buddies, even if it's all happening online.

Obv her non-muslim friends have also a place in her life, and I think she is dealing with it well, but I can imagine the struggle... It is not easy at all for many people, considering us being social creatures.

I've got a hunch that sooner or later, she's going to find herself surrounded by the awesome company and friendship she's seeking. I mean, she's out there building this amazing character and placing religion and good character right at the top of her checklist for friends and this will make her very selective and in the future will bless her with people like her 🤷‍♀️

But for now, let's just roll with what's available and make the best out of it. Try to stay connected with friends despite the miles between them, working on yourself, engaging with her non-muslim friends as well, why not, if it doesn't damage her!

It actually good that she actually has some muslim friends, despite them being far from her, i think she can live out of their blessings, as we girls do "

*****

I pray Allah swt resolve your dilemma and grant you good pious religious friends that you can feel connected to and comfortable with my dear, I pray He rewards you immensely and bring you closer to Him, ameen.

I entrust you to Allah,

- A. Z. 🤍🍃

#sisterssafespace

1 note · View note

hesperleveret · 2 years

Text

The Protagonist Problem

I’m in the process of starting to write a new novel. Which is exciting, and also nerve-wracking, because I haven’t written a new novel in several years. After my previous novels failed to find publishers, I decided to concentrate on short fiction for a while. Which has been fun, but my brain is itching to write something long-form. Something with chapters and multiple point-of-view characters. Something with lots of world-building and character arcs and all that juicy stuff. Something I can really get lost in the writing of, for months.

No sooner have I started, though, than I’ve encountered a problem. The Protagonist Problem. There’s been a common thread in the rejections I’ve received from publishers, and the notes I got back from my erstwhile agent. My protagonists, I am told, aren’t protaggy enough. They need to be out there, doing more protagonising. Having more agency. Making more choices. All that stuff. I have a tendency to write main characters who are passive and mopey and don’t actually *do* anything. Stuff just… kind of happens to them.

And… now I’m doing it again. I’ve started writing a book with protagonists who aren’t doing all that much protagonising. More… sitting around moping and drinking tea and waiting for someone else to tell them what to do.

So. What am I going to do about my Protagonist Problem?

Well, part of me rejects this whole notion that protagonists need to be All Action, All The Time. Isn’t that all a bit Western-centric, patriarchal, white supremacist? After all, for anyone who is marginalized in some way – ie the vast majority of people in the world – agency is in short supply. Choices are constrained. And even if you’re in a relatively privileged position, you’re still subject to the whims of fate. Real life is less about going out there and making stuff happen, and more about dealing with the stuff that happens to you.

One of the things that’s happened to me is that I’ve been burned by the publishing industry. I’ve spent lots of time trying to write books which were supposed to be commercially viable, compromising my artistic vision and my enjoyment of my own writing process in an attempt to produce something publishable. And then I still got rejected.

So what I’m trying to do now is to write something purely for the joy of getting lost in a world of my own creation, without compromise and without concern for what anyone might think of the finished product. So what if my main characters are mopey? Maybe I like them that way.

All that being said…

I have identified, at an early stage, an issue with my writing that I have repeatedly been told makes my books less compelling to read. And I would quite like, actually, to produce a book that’s not just fun to write but also fun to read. Perhaps I should at least consider The Protagonist Problem from all angles. Perhaps I should have a think if there are any tweaks I can make to the story. Perhaps it’s possible to make my main characters more pro-active without making them completely unrecognizable as the people who’ve been living in my head rent-free.

Well, it turns out it didn’t take a huge amount of thought about my plot outline to identify a few crucial moments where my characters could be making more deliberate choices rather than simply doing what they’re told. So… I guess I’m the process of trying to resolve my Protagonist Problem? I don’t know how successful I’m going to be, but that’s all part of the ongoing process of discovery and delight that is writing a novel.

#creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr

0 notes

chemicalpink · 3 years

Text

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really, who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtansorciere

177 notes · View notes

guardianofscrewingup · 2 years

Text

God I’d be way more into Tim Drake getting an ongoing again if it wasn’t written by Meghan Fitzmartin.

I like Timkon best but would’ve been sold on Bernard IF he still had a personality, but he’s basically a cardboard standee, with most of his and Tim’s relationship happening off panel. He had more personality early on.

And a weird take like “Tim didn’t talk to steph for SIX whole months” goes even above and beyond the level of historically shitty Tim’s been as a boyfriend in the past. The narrative also just paves over the fact she’d have a right to be hurt by that and it feels sort of unnatural and weird for her to just immediately coo over his new bf.

I don’t even like Steph that much! I think their relationship was kinda low grade toxic in its earlier years (mutually). But she’d have had a right to be pissed and hurt and even if you’re undergoing a queer awakening it’s not okay to treat someone that way. The narrative should reinforce that.

In part because the narrative treating queer characters as fluffy and faultless is bad storytelling. If it wanted to have him ghost her (for MONTHS!), it should’ve had realistic consequences for him to navigate.

If it wanted to avoid negative consequences and focus on the fluff, it should’ve avoided the negative actions then. If the narrative wanted her to have a reasonable cooing reaction, it should have established that even if he avoided her a bit in the beginning he talked to her far sooner. The story could’ve then maybe been about him coming out to Kon and Bart. Or timeline-wise, it could’ve been about Tim telling her, but set only a week or so after avoiding her.

It also sort of...was confusing in its emphasis on “our relationship was good, and it was real” because...then why break up with your girlfriend? Bi people don’t have to date someone of the same sex to be bi. Him doing it with some cardboard cut out that hasn’t been in his books for years made it look fickle and weird.

I have no idea if Fitzmartin is bi herself and won’t speculate, but I will say that even if she is, she’s presenting it with the usual emphasis on it not “counting” unless you’re dating someone of the same sex, and as a bi person I am so over that.

I’m glad DC allowed this to happen and see the merits in some parts of it, but I feel with mainstream media we always get something kind of half-ass (or three-quarters ass because this is slightly better than half-ass) and we just take it because it’s all we can get right? Except the more you go outside the mainstream and take in media by queer creators (esp indie) the more you realize some things are good or okay but can be done better.

I’m getting kind of tired of narratives either treating queer relationships as tragic or is as sort of mindless fluff where the gays are flawless snugglypoos. I’d like to see more stuff in between where people get happy endings but there are still conflicts raised and resolved in their stories, and relationships happen along normal dynamics with normal human reactions.

Queer relationships often have some kind of conflicts just because relationships do in general? Sometimes you accidentally hurt your SOs feelings and have to apologize, sometimes your relationship faces strains due to outside pressures and you have to work to overcome them etc etc. Sometimes you can be so myopic in a loving relationship that you neglect your friends for sweetheart time and hurt their feelings. Life is conflict, much of it resolvable.

#tim drake #stephanie brown #dc comics #timber salt #slightly timsteph critical #tim drake special spoilers #pride special spoilers #queer representation

24 notes · View notes

guiltycorp · 2 years

Text

I'd like to clarify my thoughts on Diluc a bit! Only because I read a couple of fics and takes just now that made me realize how some people approach the ‘Diluc x consequences’ thing as if he really is completely in the wrong when it comes to Kaeya and should somehow atone for it? But that’s not how I see it at all. In my opinion, however harsh his reaction to ‘the truth’ that Kaeya revealed was (and we still don’t know the specifics of that truth or how exactly their fight went), he would only have to ‘make up’ for it if he was now actively aiming to rekindle his relationship with Kaeya. However, Kaeya no longer has any official ties to him, so that means Diluc needs to actually want and pursue that reconciliation. What I mean is that if Kaeya were, heaven forbid, his actual adopted brother (which he isn’t and never was) or still his younger sworn brother, then yeah, he’d definitely have the responsibility of returning Kaeya’s desperate attempts to get closer to him once more. But their sworn brotherhood was based on a lie, and while we don’t exactly know what Diluc currently thinks of their bond, he certainly doesn’t see Kaeya in the same light that he used to. They’re not even in the same structure anymore now that Diluc left the Knights. With that, Diluc technically doesn’t owe requital to him. He never even asked for any favors - he didn’t comment on Kaeya’s attempts to displace Eroch, he didn’t tell him about the secret organization he’s in, he never asked for Kaeya’s help with Darknight Hero stuff. Do you remember how in the first Archon quest Diluc was happily working alongside Jean and not once asked for Kaeya? Even when it comes to working with the Knights, Kaeya isn’t his only choice of comrades. He accepts the help that Kaeya offers, and he easily agrees to work alongside him, but none of what Kaeya does actually puts Diluc in his debt. Diluc’s neutral demeanor towards him stings, and it’s weird that he neither rejects nor fully accepts Kaeya’s attention, but he’s not being overly mean about it either. The only reason why we all want Diluc to return Kaeya’s efforts or to at least to show some weakness toward him is because that would make for a nicer story! Personally, I REALLY want Diluc to bring up Kaeya in a conversation or for him to initiate for once, but that’s only because an unrequited relationship is too sad of a story arc for Kaeya. Plus there have been tiny hints that Diluc still cares a lot, so that’s likely where their future story development is headed after all (if genshin ever gets to it, ahem). It’s definitely frustrating when we don’t know his opinion, when both the game and Diluc himself avoid the topic so often, but what I’m saying is that a story where Kaeya’s relationship with Diluc is one-sided wouldn’t make Diluc a bad person either. It would be rather tragic, but I don’t think characters should be villainized for not reciprocating other characters’ overtures of friendship like that, and I hope this current trend will die just as the ‘Kaeya is sus’ trend died. And if Kaeya reached the height of his depression/inner-conflict and did something drastic (like, leave Mond, risk his life, go on a self-destructive bender, join forces with someone inadvisable, trigger some dark magic etc etc), it wouldn’t be Diluc’s fault or his responsibility. He might feel guilty for not doing something, for not being more honest if he does care, but that shouldn’t be his punishment or ‘consequences’ for his actions. Only a bit of irony for being too late when he had lots of time to resolve his issues with Kaeya sooner. The only consequences Diluc should face are maybe psychological repercussions for using torture methods on his enemies too often and a union strike from the workers of Angel’s Share.

#diluc #genshin #kaeya #genshin headcanons #i guess #text

14 notes · View notes

wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

Omega worth fighting for

I’m going back to work soon so I might start posting less, we’ll see i guess

kirishima x reader bakugou x reader (not really)

warnings: ABO things, swearing, minior angst,

word count: 1,100 (about)

summary: Kirishima is a good friend, but even he has a limit,

Kirishima was always more observant than anyone gave him credit for. Sure he may not do the best on tests but no one could say he wasn’t smart. He knew off the top of his head what Mina’s favorite flower was, and he could tell whether or not Kaminari had woken up on time just by looking at his choker. And of course, he knew almost everything about you.

It wasn’t like he’s set out to memorize obscure facts about you, he just sorta noticed you all the time, and ended up remembering stuff. He’d seen you at lunch picking the bean sprouts out of your lunch to eat them first. He’d accidentally bumped into you at the library and seen that you had a pink crayon bandaid on your elbow, and you explained that you’d fallen on your way to school and a passing child had given it to you. Just little details like that, little things no one else would notice, but he did.

Maybe it was more that he sought you out, craved knowing you rather than just happening upon you occasionally. You were the only Omega that awoke such feelings in him. So knowing that he should have known he wasn’t the only one to fall for you.

Kirishima might be the only person, save of course for Midoriya, who could see right through Bakugou’s mean and nasty front. That’s why they were best friends after all. His knack for picking up on the smallest hints made it so Kirishima was the only one who could call the violent blonde out without getting blown to high hell.

He should have realized it all sooner. But he had kind of been ignoring the obvious. Bakugou couldn’t be staring at you, he was just spacing off. It was a coincidence that Bakugou asked you to train with him, it was just your quirk. Of course, Bakugou got mad whenever Kaminari teased him about having a crush on you, he was just pissed that Kaminari even spoke to him.

But it got to the point that everyone could tell Bakugou had a thing for you, and Kirishima couldn’t deny it anymore.

It was time for the school festival again and class 3B was putting on a dunk tank. You were sat inside on a paddle in a cute blue swimsuit smiling and waving, inviting people to try and knock you into the water.

Bakugou blatantly stared at your revealing outfit, his eyes wide with awe and his cheeks dusted pink. It was clear he was bewitched and had been for a while.

“What a rigged game,” Mineta grumbled walking away from the tank, having spent all of his money trying to knock you in. Bkgou snapped back to reality.

“You’re just weak you stupid extra,” he snapped slamming down a bill on the ticket table and picking up a baseball. Kirishima looked at you and saw you looked genuinely scared now, clutching the edge of your false bottom seat.

“Go easy yeah? You don’t want to hurt them,” Kiri said but bakugou just shrugged him off winding back and throwing the ball at the target with everything he had. There was a loud ding than a shriek as you fell plummeting into the water.

You swarm to the top, breaching the water with a good-natured laugh, you congratulated bakugou as you got back in the chair. Kirishima couldn’t help but watch as the water rolled down your chest making your skin glitter in the sun. God, he was so whipped. And so was his best friend.

“You should ask them out soon don’t want someone to beat you to the punch right?” Kirishima pushed elbowing the blonde in the side once they were out of earshot. Bakugou grunted.

“Fuck off, no one would go after an omega I want,” he snapped, not even denying he liked you.

“I might, I’m not scared of you,” Kiri shot back, and his friend hit him with a piercing glare.

“You wouldn’t.”

Bakugou was right of course, Kirishima wouldn’t ask you out. Not while his best friend had the hots for you, he wouldn’t hurt him like that. Besides he didn’t even have a reason for thinking you might like him back. You probably wanted a stronger, more accomplished Alpha than him anyway, you’d be happy with Bakugou.

Kirishima wasn’t expecting it to hurt so much when he finally settled on giving up on you, but it was like a knife to the chest every time he saw Bakugou talking to you or god forbid touching you. His inner alpha demanded he go over and rip you away from him and it pained him to turn away.

He had known that he liked you, but he assumed that was it, just a crush. But if it were just a crush, it wouldn’t hurt like this right? But he didn’t have any claim over you or any reason to get jealous like this. But god he wished he did.

He resolved to just avoid you to the best of his ability, which was a lot easier said than done.

“Hey, Kirishima!” you greeted happily, waving as you sprinted towards him. Kirishima could smell your sweet scent as you got closer to him, it had been a while since he had been close enough to smell you and it nearly took him off his feet.

“Hey,” he greeted trying to sound calm.

“Sorry to bug you but I was wondering if you could help me carry some boxes back to class I’m not strong enough to get them by myself,” you explained, and your soft pleading eyes broke him.

“No problem,” he said following you like a lost puppy as you took him to the boxes you needed to move.

“Thank you, so much Kirishima!” once he’s successfully moved everything you needed.

“Like I said, it’s not a problem,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Still, maybe, I could buy you lunch or something as a thank you,” you offered and he froze.

“L-Like a date?” he stuttered his face going as red as his hair. This was so not manly, he was supposed to be the one to ask you our- no he wasn’t supposed to ask you out at all so Bakugou could have you.

“Yeah, like a date, I really like you Kirishima,” you said looking up at him shyly.

“But- but Bakugou,” he said lamely. His heart was hammering in his chest, the only reason it hurt so damn much to see his best friend flirt with you was that you seemed to be reciprocating those feelings.

“Oh yeah, he asked me out a few days ago, but I turned him down, he’s not really my type,” you explained.

“And I’m your type,” he asked. You nodded. His whole body felt light and tingly.

“Okay, yeah let’s go out,” he said, a wide grin on his face, just this once, he got to be selfish.

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #alpha kirishima #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia abo #my hero academia head cannon

255 notes · View notes

dreamrecorder · 3 years

Note

Hey, I love love love your stuff! I noticed you had your requests open and I hope this isn't too much to ask and of course if it is you can just ignore it!

But I recently made the decision to finally get a hysterectomy this summer after eight years of struggling with endometriosis and adenomyosis, and even though I know I never want kids anyway it's still kind of been nerve wracking and it's also been making me insecure? Its like... Also a lack of choices for my future? Idk it's a little complicated and I wouldn't blame you for turning this request down, but do you think you could write some zhongli fluff and comfort for me? I just kinda want something to read when I'm feeling nervous and insecure and could use some serotonin. Tysm, love your stuff a lot

Have a great day! Ily

Always You

Zhongli x F!Reader

I honestly dont know if this was fluff enough because i kinda relate about some stuff here ksks- but pls pls pleeease i hope you would enjoy reading this- and if you need to talk to someone- i'll have my ears open ily- it was very brave of you to come up with that tough decision and i am proud uwu you are so so so strong i hope you know that

Bleed*** - menstruation basically but i kept things vague

You came from a very traditional family, whose roots dated back during the early years of Liyue. As such, your family also have equally traditional views on womanhood. One of these is that, it is your duty to bear children for your future husband. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to bring honor to your family.

When you became of the expected age to have bled- you never did. You and your parents waited for months for any signs of your first bleeding- any sign that you can bear children. But you never bleed.

You remember the horror in your mother's face. The disappointment in your father's.

That day, you seethed at yourself for being who you are but you made a decision to keep your head high. A woman has more capabilities than simply bearing children. It was a motivation that kept you going through the years- however there are times when you would gaze upon women smiling on their children,

There was this twist in your heart- prominent realizations that you can never have what they have…

Zhongli became a blooming point in your life. He was gentle and kind, smart and handsome- all qualities that any woman would want. He was so understanding and patient, but you never told him your secret. Yes, you trusted the man- yet you were scared- what would he do when you told him your secret?

Despise you? Leave you? Hate you? Those thoughts only intensified when you see him telling a story to the children that surrounded him one day in the harbor.

It was very subtle, but Zhongli noticed how anxious you behaved these days. You stutter at the simplest questions. You become easily surprised at the smallest unexpected noise. How you also avoided his eyes while you play with the hems of your clothes. Aside from those, he also noticed how you began to put distance between the two of you. At first, he decided not to intervene, for he trusted you that you would tell him your troubles when you are ready. However, when he entered your shared bedroom one night with your eyes glistening with tears- Zhongli knew he should have approached you sooner than have your feelings explode up.

With swift movements, the man went to you. Once close enough, he sat next to you as he gently lift your face for him to see. The way he, wiped your tears away, it made you release a small sob.

"Name, dear, what's wrong? Please tell me. Did I do anything to upset you?" Zhongli spoke with worry lacing his voice as he mulled over any reasons of your distress in his head. But you only shook your head. The man noticed your hesitance, and to resolve that, he simply placed a kiss on your forehead. After which, Zhongli snaked his hand hand to yours so that he could kiss every knuckle. He had hoped that these would ease your tension in your mind.

You needed to tell him the truth, now or never.

After a few moments, you managed to steady your breathing as you held onto his hand tightly, scared that he would go away.

"I...I cannot bear your children." Was all you said in a whisper- looking away from him, not wanting to see the anger that would surface in his eyes. As for the man, himself- Zhongli was completely confused. He already knew that you didn't want to have kids in the future- and he respected that… After all, the labor of pregnancy will be carried by you- and he respected your views about children- So how did this topic of bearing him children broke you down so much?

"Name, I believe we already spoke about our decision about children. What brought this on? Please, Name, you can tell me anything."

At the question, Zhongli felt your hand grip his tighter. He watched you release a deep breath as you tried to organize your thoughts. With some semblance of calmness in your nerves, you told him you story about not having bled during you teens 'til now.

"I know I don't want kids, Zhongli- b-but…" you voice faded as your insecurities rose, but you felt the comforting touch and gaze your love gave you. A deep sigh and you continued, "But there's also a possibility that our decision might change. Like… I always felt that my choices are limited because of my condition. But you- you just had to choose me and I don't want to limit your life, too. You… you deserve a family, Zhongli."

You spoke the last sentence with your voice cracking. The thought of Zhongli leaving you for a better life- but with all your heart you didn't want to hold him back from having a proper family- A proper wife… Insecurities were rising again- fear, anxiety, loneline-

Your train of thoughts was stopped by the feeling of his lips plant into yours. And all you could do was melt in his arms with tears streaming once more. Both in relief and in sadness. Relief that he would still choose you, and in sadness that you can never be a proper wife he deserves. Once the man pulled away, he looked at you with those very same kind amber eyes that you fell in love with when you met him.

"Name, first of all- I love you, regardless of your condition. Just because you cannot bear me children does not make you any less of a person- Much more make me love you any less. I love you for you being who you are, and that will never change."

As soon as Zhongli had finished his declarations of love, happy tears flowed from your beautiful eyes. When he saw your lips rising into a smile that he adored so much, he whispered, "It will always be you."

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin zhongli #zhongli genshin #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

113 notes · View notes