#wow i feel like a lot of my answers were self centred but.. ehe

[iridescene]

Thursday!! I’m giving you Thoma and Zhongli for your ask game >:)

1. what i love about them

thoma: umm... UMMMM...... WHAT DON'T I LOVE ABOUT MY LIL HONEY BEAR SQUISHY SNOOKUMS MY SWEET BEAUTIFUL PRETTY MEOW MEOW.................... god im gonna be real here. idk where to begin. man is hot. handsome. the perfect age and height for me. beyond superficial aspects, i think what i love most about him is the fact that while many may mistake his warmth for amiability, i think it has this hidden devotion and tenacity to it. like, if someone he really cared about pushed him away because they believed they were unloveable/unworthy of his time and affection/he could do better, he would never take it sitting down and walk away. he's a ride or die who lives with an open heart; and in that sense i like to believe we share aligned ideals.

zhongli: hmm... what i admire about people sometimes also tend to become what i love about them, and zhongli is a pretty good example of this. i love the extent of his knowledge (even if he is, you know, 6000 years old) and his eloquence in expressing himself. he also seems like a patient listener and someone who understands his inner workings and how to balance them well... he'd be a soothing presence to be around.

2. what i hate/dislike about them

thoma: blasphemous that you should ask. blocked,

zhongli: i guess this perspective is a bit more self-centred, but... you know how sometimes when you're around someone, even if things are chill between you both and they appear fine, you can kind of tell they're not? zhongli shoulders that kind of grief... if i were to be an acquaintance or friend of his, i'd want to be able to relieve some of that burden in some way, but he doesn't seem like the kind who'd share the weight on his shoulders easily. because of that i suppose there will always be some sort of distance? and it goes without saying that i'd respect that distance and provide him the space he wishes for, but i'd also be lying if i said that being unable to share the burden of one you care about wasn't disheartening...

6. if i'd fight them

thoma: we'd have a tickle war and i'd let him win

zhongli: do i know what's good for me? yes. do i care? no #childecore

7. if we would be friends

thoma: god i. i need a moment. i wouldn't even know where to begin. HELL YEAH???!!??! we r the og friends 2 lovers ship ok we bond over knitting sessions while listening to taylor swift. this kind of led me to think too... some friends can be people who inspire you. thoma inspires me, and he seems like the type to always see the best in others, so i wonder if i'd inspire him too, and if so, in what way...?

zhongli: i hope the fuck so?? zhongli would honestly make the best conversation partner. i'm always someone who likes to think about philosophy and all that and also challenge these perspectives; and in this respect i believe zhongli would be the perfect person to have such discussions with — rather than someone who converses to speak or debates to emerge victorious, he seems like he'd be able to maintain a collected temperament and objective point of view with things. he's also a very... balanced person too, which complements my somewhat chaotic nature well i feel.

:// send me some genshin characters and numbers

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - A Bird’s Life

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 18 | Part 19 A Bird’s Life | Part 20 >

Disclaimer: Some strong language

Author’s note: I hope you can survive my attempt at writing poetry.🤓

Word count: 1.475

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

When I was young my school reports always had one and the same comment; “Alice should try to get a bit more out of her shell”. I was simply said the shy kid, the nerdy girl, the one who always got the good grades and didn’t want to upset anyone. For the longest time I always put everyone before me. I was the giver, not the receiver, of attention and whenever someone wished to give me that attention, be it as a friend or lover, I pushed them away. I just didn’t know how to cope.

And even now after all these years it still, at times, makes me feel a little weirded out. I do not like to be the centre of attention. Not even when it’s the attention of just one person. Why I exactly feel like that, I don’t know. Is it a form of self protection? Building up walls? Perhaps. In any way, I will have to deal with it. Because me and chocolate cake are getting pretty serious about a lot of things. Adult things.

It happens to just be so that part of these adult things is caring for each other in equal measure. Being there for one another. Letting lust and demand grow into love and care. Or, as U.A. Fanthorpe lovingly described it in her poem Atlas; “There is a kind of love, called maintenance.”

And I, dear readers, want that maintenance kind of love, I do.

Ali

‘I didn’t know you read poetry.’ Henry said, your bodies huddled close together in the mid December wind. It was a small but unfortunate side effect of living near the sea; it seemed to always be windy. And in winter, that gave you a whole new sense of “fuck it’s cold”. I shivered into his chest, watching Kal zoom through the bushes like it was just another fine summers day.

‘Every now and then. It’s a bit of a left over habit from college.’

’Twas a nice poem. The whole collection of poems on that website actually.’ He smiled. ‘You read them all?’ I raised an eyebrow and looked up at his now outgrowing beard. Henry was growing a beard and I did not mind it one bit - it made me feel all kinds of literal and figurative tingles. He snickered. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Henry the poetry man! Makes me wonder actually. You are good with words, but do you ever write yourself?’ I looked back at the stone cobbled path ahead of us, our booted feet tapping in joined rhythm on the cold rock. I really, really enjoyed our walks together and from the fact Henry always near forced me to join him for his walks no matter how bad the weather, I derived he did so too.

‘Perhaps.’ He finally said, earning a inquisitive eyebrow raise from me. ‘Perhaps? Mr. Cavill, please do not dare and keep secrets from me!’ I prodded him in his side and he chuckled, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t dare. I just hadn’t ..come around to sharing it with you yet.’

‘Sounds like a secret to me.’ I laughed, seeing Kal had found himself a nice stick. ‘Oh Kal bear! At least you keep no secrets huh?’ I ruffled my fingers through his fur when he came to present his new found treasure to us, Henry’s hand near automatically taking it from the friendly Akita to throw it a bit further down the road, for the dog to fetch.

‘Okay. Something I wrote a while ago..don’t judge me though. It’s..-‘ ‘A secret.’ I squeezed my lips tight as if promising to keep my lips shut from here on. He sniffled. ‘Something like that.’

Clearing his throat and gazing out over the wintery landscape, he started:

‘A bird’s life

Before their singing rings I wake, an early riser Come morning do I take On the day, again a little whiter

Striding feet I follow Black and white, his beard too grey I hear my mothers voice speak again Do your duty come what may

But as I follow my winged friends Around the world I sink Dragging feet that stall and linger Not always can this be so, I think

My nests though many Are fewer my home My coffins are filled With gold silver and woe

As days then end I reach Yet another homeless nest Its branches prickle and when I look Hours more not to rest

Sun rises burning and Sore feet hit cold levels Long distances I go more Until sweet dreams too unravel

This journey’s not mine Too lonesome to stay I flicker my wings And yet again for love, do I pray.’

Silence fell as the last of his words filtered through the morning air, my ears still peeked as I now listened to his slow, calm breath, my hand wrapped around his arm. He had spoken as if his poem was directed at the birds in the trees themselves, his eyes reaching up to the empty branches in the near distance, no birds to be seen. It was just us two. Or three actually, as Kal, though blissfully aware of this magical moment, was there too, roaming around freely in the thicket.

‘When did you write that?’ I finally asked, looking up at him, his face calm. ‘The day after you left London. I actually hadn’t slept a wink that night before you had to fly back. I…gosh I’m such a foo-‘ - ‘Stop that.’ I halted my feet and gave him a fiery gaze. ‘Don’t apologise for your feelings.’ I admonished, then gently rubbed his arm. ‘And that was a terribly beautiful poem Hen.’

‘Hmm.’ He smiled, slightly unsure. ‘Thank you Ali.’

‘No thank you. And to answer your bird’s heart.’ I cupped his cheek in both hands. ‘I love you and I want to make that journey with you, I do.’

‘Even after all the surrogate mother shit and..’ - ‘Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill. Did you just haphazardly skip the first half of my blog this morning?’ I raised a teasing, yet authoritative eyebrow at him. He bit his lip to hide a chuckle. ‘I’m doing it too, huh?’

‘Yep. Take my love you fool! Take it! TAKE IT!’ I used both my hands to shake him like a salt shaker - though little did I actually get him to move as this man was about as built as the empire state building. His smile grew and grew and before long he was laughing aloud, his head nodding in amusement. ‘Okay Ali. Ali. You can stop now. I surrender.’

‘Then kiss me like you mea-‘ I wasn’t even allowed to finish that sentence, his lips crashing down onto mine. Soft and plushy, the after taste of his morning coffee still lingering, he was not going to let the moment go to waste.

We probably stood there for a few minutes. Just kissing, our cheeks burning like hot coals despite the icy wind around us, his hands carefully wrapped around my head, keeping me where he wanted me to be. His fellow bird, ready to fly out together.

Or well, almost; first I had to take my employer up on that hiatus proposal.  

—

‘I got the okay! She’s going to check for a temp writer and once that person’s all settled in, I could..go with you.’ I cheered, flying around Henry’s neck, not minding the fact that his parents were also near - his mom just peeking her head around the corner of the kitchen and his dad probably reading his newspaper in the living room.

‘What?! Really?!’ Henry’s smile grew from ear to ear as he wrapped me, winter coat and all, in his arms. ‘Baby that’s..’ He leaned back again. ‘Wow.’ He near giggled.

‘Are you staying for dinner, Ali?’ His mom inquired, infiltrating on our little moment. We quickly awoke from our little bubble and Henry muttered some quiet apology, pushing the still opened front door closed behind us.

‘Eh…’ I blinked at Henry. He smiled and nodded, bidding me to accept her offer. ‘Yes please. Thank you Marianne.’ I looked over at her and she gave me a most adoring wink. ‘You are practically family Ali.’ She mused, disappearing back into the kitchen where dinner was already well on the way.

I watched her waddle off, feeling Henry’s strong arms pull me in for a full-circled swoop through the air, making me fly like the birds in his poem. ‘I love you so much!’ He exclaimed, making me laugh with pure giddiness. ‘Hen! Carefu— OHH — HEN- put me down, put me down hahahah. Oh gosh.’ I squirmed until finally he put me back on my feet, his wide teethed grin causing sweet dimples to crease his cheeks.

‘I love you too, silly.’

‘Then I better start calling my agent, hmm?’

‘Mhm. You better.’

--

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