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ughgoaway · 10 months

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midnight, no headlights // George Daniel- pt 1

content warnings: no smut (yet) but still some kissing so minors go away, drinking, swearing, smoking, awkward flirting and writing because I am not great at either! word count- 2500-ish

a/n: hiii so the vote came out that you didn't mind this fic being split up so, this is the first part! 2014 George has had me in a chokehold recently (thanks to @abiiors) so I had to write something for him!! this is part one of two and I have absolutely no idea when the other part will come out!! I actually kind of hate this but can't cope with it sitting in my google docs any longer. I've been in a massive writing slump lately and I'm really rusty, so if it's awful... be nice about telling me lol. anyway ill stop chatting shit now, here it is

Another espresso martini, great. It seemed like all you had to do for this shift was make them for groups of obnoxious girls. To be honest, you were jealous they were able to go out and have fun on a Saturday night, you were stuck doing a shift at this shitty club for some band's afterparty. The shift started fine, a few pints here, a few ciders there but it had soon devolved into a sticky bar and overly complex cocktails with too many ingredients.

A tattooed hand stuck out from the crowd and soon the tall man attached to it wormed his way through and took a seat on the green barstool in the corner, from just his hand you had assumed you'd be getting another shitty beer but he defied all your expectations when you caught a glimpse of the rest of him.

A pile of badly blonde dyed hair sat on top of his head, either side was shaved. He had a sly look in his eyes but a gentle smile on his face, his features seemed hard individually but when you put them together you were left with a very soft look. His arms were exposed due to the white vest he was wearing, colourful and seemingly random tattoos snaked up them. You couldn't see his bottom half anymore but you caught a glimpse of his black ripped jeans, the outfit was nothing remarkable. In fact, it was kind of boring but for some inexplicable reason, he just looked fucking good.

His eyes had an alluring quality to them, pulling you in slowly. They were so alluring in fact, that whilst you were staring into them and walking over to him you tripped. Luckily, before you could fall on your ass in front of the only hot customer you've seen in ages, you caught yourself on the edge of the bar. His hand caught yours as you fell in an attempt to steady you, “Woah you alright darling? Thought you were meant to be sober on shift” he cheekily remarked.

His deep vocals sent a shiver through you, normally in a club like this you had to practically scream to hear each other but for some reason, it seemed like his voice was the only thing you heard. It sat at a different frequency that went right into your bones. You scolded yourself internally for fawning over a man who had said one sentence to you.

“Haha very funny, I’ll have you know I'm stone-cold sober. But I'm assuming that you're coming up here to no longer be that, so what can I get you?” you retort back smiling politely and leaning slightly into the puzzling man.

“I'll just have a vodka soda please sweetheart” he began but he soon looked around at the hoards of people surrounding him and quickly added, “Actually make that a double.” his correction caused you to giggle slightly. You briefly wonder what about the rowdy people made him change his order but decide not to ask and just begin making the drink.

The small cup of drink umbrellas teased you as you worked. Every time an especially manly-looking man ordered a drink you added a little umbrella, just to see their reaction. Sometimes they say nothing and just look confused but every once in a while, you get an especially good reaction. The best reactions are usually from self-described “gym bros” who are on a date, they scoff and act as if a small umbrella completely negates their manhood. It might seem juvenile, but you'll do anything to spice up a boring shift. You decide this mystery man with the “fuck me” eyes would like one so, you grab a teal cocktail umbrella and stick it in his double vodka soda.

“Here you are! A vodka soda,” you begin to hand the drink over, he reaches out but you quickly pull it away and correct yourself, “Sorry, double vodka soda” A smirk sneaks onto your face as you hand over the drink to the man. His face mirrors yours, a teasing smile overtaking his features.

"thank you, love," he smiles gratefully, going to take a sip but quickly recoiling at the sight of the umbrella in his drink. You think he'll scoff, throw it on the floor and call you a dickhead but no. he smiles, takes the small umbrella out and places it behind his ear, he finishes off the action with a wink and click of his tongue towards you.

A light laugh falls out of you at his action, not expecting him to be so cheeky about your little joke. He holds eye contact as he downs the rest of his drink, the action isn't inherently flirty but still, you feel a pulse thrum through you at the sight.

“Not such a good night then?” you remark. Despite having about 30 people you should be serving right now you remain enamoured by the man with the tiny umbrella behind his left ear.

“What gave me away huh? Chugging the drink or coming to hide in the corner?” he smiles, you can't help but feel slightly sorry for him, out to a cool afterparty on a Saturday night and he's choosing to sit in the corner and chat with the bartender.

It's then you make the decision you're gonna make this guy's night, in any way he’ll let you.

“Any reason you're hiding away? From a particular person maybe?” you ask leaning on the bar and staring at the man in front of you, “ooh are the band assholes? Wouldnt shock me if they were considering this afterparty, they're usually the overly cocky and handsy type when they party this hard” you add. The man across from you raises his eyebrows at you and his smirk grows marginally larger, you have no idea who you're talking to. And he loves that.

Soon the small amount of eye contact you're sharing becomes too much, you grab a rag and begin to wipe the bar in front of you. You figure you should at least pretend to work whilst talking to the curious stranger, still with the teal umbrella behind his ear.

“Oh no, not hiding from anyone specifically just everyone really. I was dragged here by a couple of mates but I'm hoping to make an escape soon.” he chuckled out whilst swirling the ice in his cup. Wordlessly you grab it from him and begin to make another drink.

“I won't give you an umbrella in this one handsome, not lucky enough to get two in one night” you wink at the man in front of you. The nickname slipped out thoughtlessly, you were used to flirting for tips so it felt like second nature to use them whenever you spoke. A light blush flushed your cheeks at your realisation, it didn't go unnoticed by the tattooed man.

“Handsome huh? Wow, do all your patrons get such good service?” he says looking at you whilst taking a small sip of the drink you handed him. A smile breaks over his lips as he realises it's another double, he briefly thinks of making a quip accusing you of getting him drunk but your bashful smile distracts his mind.

Your heart flutters slightly at his comment, hoping he would just ignore your slip-up. Quickly you rectify the situation not wanting him to have any more power over you than he already does, “Well when I don't know their names, yes.”

“Ahh, well nice to meet you..” he pauses briefly, indicating you to fill in the blank.

“I don't know about giving my name to a random customer… what if you're an axe murderer? I think I’ll keep that to myself” you smile, trying your best to mimic the teasing look in his eyes. The tall man opens his mouth to reply but before he can a voice comes across the bar.

“y/n! Will you stop flirting with that douche with the man bun and help? Im stuck making 25 pornstar martinis on my own!” your coworker chastises you.

You turn back to the noise of a cackle coming from the so-called “douche with the man bun” his laugh makes a mortified smile come across your features as you sigh and throw the rag you were holding to the bar in front of you.

“Calm down Tony! I'm coming you dick” you shout back in the direction of your coworker, only receiving an unimpressed glare back.

“Okay then, I'm going to work now and hopefully never see you again or I will die of embarrassment, bye douche with a man bun” you sigh jokingly at your conversation partner.

“Bye y/n” he replies with a teasing wave, you begin to walk away with your head hanging in shame but soon a loud voice from behind you catches your attention “It's George by the way, only my mum calls me douche with a man bun” he smiles cheekily, obviously proud of his comment.

In your hopeful final words to the now not-so-mystery man, you say, “Well it was nice to meet you George, may our paths never cross again” With a flourish you turn around and start grabbing ingredients to help Tony deal with the hoards of people.

Your paths did cross again, about 2 hours later in the smoker's area behind the bar. The cool air was just beginning to soothe your running mind when you heard an unmistakable voice ring out behind you.

“You got a lighter sweetheart?” he asks, the handsome man you now know as George comes to stand in front of you, with the same alluring eyes and smile but now with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. This was your first chance to look at him in full but you couldn't pull your focus away from the cocktail umbrella that still sat behind his ear.

‘Shit’, you thought, he asked a question and here you are just staring at him like a deer in headlights. Why is it that whenever an attractive man was within 5 feet of you, you suddenly stop acting like a human fucking being?

You cough lightly clearing your mind and your throat before silently passing over your lighter, he twisted it in his hand and admired the engraving on the silver case.

“All my love, A xx” he read out loud, “from a boyfriend maybe?” he cheekily asked before flicking it open, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag. You watched as his cheeks hollowed around the end of it, the deep contours of his face only becoming deeper as he breathed in the smoke. You weren't sure what it was but despite the fact you had met him not even 3 hours ago, you were comfortable.

That felt dangerous considering you weren't exactly known for thinking decisions through, especially after a few drinks.

As soon as Tony said you could clock out, you did. And then promptly had 3 shots of tequila minus the lime and salt. No time for that when you're trying to get drunk quickly. The mix of the alcohol running through your bloodstream and the enticing combination of cigarette smoke and whatever cologne he was wearing gave you the confidence to do what you did next.

“Nope, no boyfriend, you trying to sus out my relationship status Georgie?'' Once again the nickname slipped out easily, feeling like old friends already. He placed his arm on the brick wall behind you and leaned in slightly closer as if he knew what you were thinking.

“Georgie already huh? And what if I was darling, is that such an issue?” he drawled out, smirking slightly as he places the lighter back into your hands, holding them slightly longer than necessary. You were shocked at how warm he was considering it was 3 am outside a club.

“No, no, absolutely no issue,” you begin, leaning up into his face, eyes flicking down to his lips and back up to meet his unwavering gaze. His eyes soon followed suit, mirroring your actions back at you, staring at your lips longingly.

The closer you got the more sure he was, even placing his other hand behind your neck, but soon you swerve left and pluck the umbrella from behind his ear and lean back to place it behind your own.

A groan comes from the man in front of you as he places both hands on the brick wall behind your head, effectively caging you in, but you didn't mind. He looks down at you and can't help but smile at the overjoyed look on your face. The small umbrella sat behind your ear just like he had done earlier in the night.

“What a tease” he complains cheekily, leaning ever so slightly closer whilst protesting, almost as if he wasn't feeling that rejected after all. You used this opportunity to study his face closely. A very light stubble dusted his jaw. A small freckle sat under his left eye on his cheek, both of which were a rosy red from standing in the cold air with you. His hair sat crazily on top of his head but not in a messy way, in an effortless “I'm so cool and I don't even try way”. God, if he wasn't so attractive and nice, you would have to hate him.

All your staring wasn't lost on George, his ear tips going slightly red from the embarrassment of being analysed. Before he could look too bashful your drunk mind said the only thing it could think in that moment.

“God you are so beautiful,” you whisper, feeling as if you spoke too loud the air between you both would be disturbed. Just as George opened his mouth to no doubt correct you, you shoved your mouth onto his without a care in the world.

Despite you all but jumping on George, he adjusted quickly. The groan you let out at his lips on yours was hastily replaced by a shocked moan as he licked into your mouth. Despite his possibly rough looking exterior, his lips were soft and gentle as they moved over your own. It wasn't long before his hands were grasping your ass and you threw your own around his neck.

George pulled away and you whined at the loss, he breathlessly giggled at your response and asked, “You live round here?” you quickly nodded, desperate to keep kissing you but just as quickly as you leaned in you shot back and threw your head back against the wall and groaned frustratedly.

He threw a questioning look at you and you swiftly told him your issue, “My place is only about 10 minutes from here,” he began to look hopeful but you shot him down, “But my roommate has her boyfriend round tonight and I've been given very clear instructions to come home and go straight to bed. Absolutely no disturbances allowed. And I'm pretty sure a 6ft man called George is a pretty big disturbance” You patted his chest dejectedly as you finished.

“Firstly,” George spoke holding one finger up, “I'm 6ft 4 thank you very much.” you giggled lightly at his insistence to get his height correct. “Secondly, we can go back to my place it's a bit… strange. But it's got a bed so?” he asked with a questioning lilt to his deep voice.

He waited with bated breath for your answer, hoping you wouldn't as too many questions he can't answer but all you said was, “Call the Uber” before attacking his lips once again.

#george daniel fanfiction #george daniel #george daniel smut #george daniel fic #the 1975 #george daniel x reader #okay this was so difficult to write #2014 george call me bff #if you all hate it let me know besties!!#okay i kinda hate this

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 6 months

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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order #at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers #90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit “lost copies”#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent #like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries #but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate #and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something #cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare #and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity #and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media #and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons #and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators #instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period #anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate “value”#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives #so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world #(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin #oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value #and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the #important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)

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lovesickeros · 6 months

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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #arlecchino #lyney #furina #you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic #trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew #anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks #also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth #furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road #arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11 #shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay #hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS #ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies #anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D #also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty #bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay #they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more #a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)

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chuthulhu-reads · 1 month

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[ID: Two panels from Dungeon Meshi. The first scows Senshi clutching his face as tears start to spill out of his eyes, saying, "I've always... always wanted to have this soup one more time." He's not wearing his helmet in this panel, so his face is unusually visible, detailed and vulnerable. The second panel shows himself as a youngster, surrounded by his old mining team, all smiling at each other, one of them rubbing Senshi's head. Modern-day Senshi continues, "Thank you. All of you. Thank you." End ID.]

Holy shit. I anticipated some tragic backstory from the "I must feed the young ones" panels, but what I'd guessed was that Senshi might have become so devoted to cooking and eating literally whatever because he'd previously survived a famine and had seen children starve to death. I did not expect him to have been the child who was the sole survivor of a doomed travel party, one of whom was determined to feed Senshi first because he was the youngest, and that Senshi has lived with the fear of having inadvertently committed cannibalism by eating stew that he'd never quite known the contents of. I'm happy for him that Laios deduced and confirmed for him that it was griffin meat, that he was able to taste the meal that saved his life once more and remember the friends he lost. Seriously, I'm crying, and also earnestly relieved that while his backstory is pretty dark, it's not the type of fucked up I'd been preparing myself mentally for.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #Dunmeshi #though it IS really worth exploring the ethics of cannibalism in survival situations #The podcast You're Wrong About has a really interesting pairing of episodes #in the Donner Party and Flight 571 Crash episodes #Both about disasters in which people wound up eating their dead to survive #and an interesting connection they drew was that it wasn't the cannibalism itself #that destroyed the lives of the Donner survivors #it was the horror and disgust and societal rejection they got for having eaten human flesh #even the children who had no idea what they were eating were treated with revulsion #and this is clearly the response Senshi feared facing if anybody knew what he'd eaten #But Flight 571 like a century later #the survivors were faced with a lot of understanding when rescued #relatively little condemnation and revulsion #by and large commentators acknowledged that they did what they had to do #and sympathized with how difficult and painful it must have been #which is what Senshi gets from his party #Laios wants to figure out the truth because he knows it's hurting Senshi not to know #But at one point Marcille straight up says that none of them would think less of Senshi if he did eat dwarf stew #Okay so this is Marcille 'ardent student of blood magic' Donato #but Chilchuck agrees #anyway I think that would be a particularly interesting conversation to have in a cooking manga #how do you safely eat a dead friend when that's all you have to survive on?#what are the nutritional benefits other than 'better than starving'?#what are the risks? There's prion diseases and all sorts you can get #they write it off as eating the dragon part but they DO spend seven days eating Falin at the end #ARE there any in/famous cannibalism cases in this world?#Do peopel argue about whether or not it's cannibalism if a dwarf eats a tallman?#enquiring minds (mine) want to know

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coyoteclan · 3 months

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Big TW for pet loss

Hey, clangen tumblr and those who just enjoy the silly cats on this blog. I know it's been a little bit of time since my last update, but unfortunately during the past few months, I have been caring for my closest friend, Comet.

She's been my best friend for 15 whole years, and on February 9th of 2024, I'm sad to say that she has passed. I won't lie when I say that this is one of the hardest posts I've ever made, but I want to continue this blog in her honor. Normally, I have a terrible habit of just letting projects like this slip by me and gather dust; however Comet was meant to play an integral part within the blog to immortalize her, and I refuse to let something meant just for her to go to waste.

I want to thank you all first of all for being such an amazing community. I've genuinely had so much joy come of this blog, and it pains me that I let it go stagnant for as long as I have. There are 568 of you now, which is so extremely wild to me; but I hope that from now on, you can all love Comet as much as I did, even if as a memory.

I hope to return to posting content both here and on my main, @mxssacre , but for now I still need time to grieve and come to terms with the loss of someone that was so incredibly intertwined with everything I've done since I was 9 years old.

Thank you for everything Comet, my heart, my soul, my love.

More of my favorite photos of her beneath the cut.

It's hard to choose favorites out of the thousands of photos I've taken of her over the years, but I hope these do her justice to show what an amazing being she was. I hope you're hunting your toy mice in the stars, Comet.

#Yeah this is a not so great post I'm sorry #I won't lie to y'all I've been sobbing my eyes out for the past week but it's helping me come to terms to write about her #I wanted to draw something for her in order to post this but ngl I just can't right now #I will be okay for the record. it's just an extremely difficult adjustment for me and I really do love this community #Seriously though. I've seen the hundreds of notifications I get from this blog weekly. I cannot thank you enough for the love I've felt #tw animal death #tw pet death #tw pet loss #I'm not sure exactly how to tag this but I hope the warning at the beginning helps #I literally finished writing a memorial for her before writing this post so clearly I'm a little in my feels lmao #I tried finding some of her sillier photos to add but there are so many. I might post more on my main later when I try figuring out-#-my memorial tattoo #hug your cats extra tight for me ❤

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 5 months

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RRVerse Fandom, Please Hear Me Out...

Message to the wider Riordanverse fandom:

Please correctly tag your fanfics with the correct fandom tags.

I am getting tired of seeing non-Apollo fics cluttering up the Trials of Apollo tag (such as Percy/Annabeth. like. what. they're barely in ToA. why are they there.). If your fanfic does not deal with Apollo, Meg McCaffrey, or the story of ToA or the consequences of it, please do not tag it as such.

I have seen fics tagged as ToA and not even have the MC, Apollo, tagged as part of the cast. So please. I am begging you. Please stop. You have the Percy Jackson & the Olympians - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, AND The Heroes of Olympus tags.

Solangelo writers, you now have the Sun and the Star tag, as well as the All Media Types one. Unless it happens during or alongside something to do with Apollo & his story, please refrain from tagging it as ToA.

And no. I do not think just being Solangelo should qualify all Solangelo fics to be tagged as ToA. If anything, they should be The Sun and The Star tag or even The Heroes of Olympus tag because that's when it all began! However, if, say, it's during The Hidden Oracle or takes place in the ToA timeframe then sure! ToA tag it!

But if it's just like an AU or something that only focuses on Solangelo? Then please don't. It's not ToA then.

This is what the ToA tag looks like btw:

I know, Nico, Will, and Percy are all popular characters, but COME ON. This is Apollo's tag, please give him this! It's so hard to find fics I want to read because it's so cluttered! Apollo's not even in the top three most-tagged characters in his own fandom tag.😒

And look at the gap between the number of fics Apollo's in compared to Percy! A 354 gap! And there's 1,616 gap between Apollo and Nico! And I can say with certainty that not all of those fics Percy - and even Nico and Will - are in are related to ToA.

Meg McCaffrey, the second MC of the series, is not even on the board. And she's a very close second MC.

And trust me. I know a bunch of these fics have nothing to do with ToA. I have scoured the tag many times and have figured that out.

So please, please, please leave The Trials of Apollo tag be unless you are writing for The Trials of Apollo. We are our own fandom and frankly, it's getting annoying having to shuffle through a bunch of fics that have nothing to do with ToA just to find ones we want to read.

Fic authors, it would be such a big help if you could remove the ToA tag from your fic if it doesn't have anything to do with ToA. I know you want your fic to be seen, and use a bunch of tags to do so, but this really inconveniences the ToA fans who just want to read about our favorite loser god and his gremlin adopted sister. ☹️

Sincerely,

A ToA fan who just wants to read fics about her favorite character but can hardly wade through the fics even with the filtering system.

Thank you. It needed to be said.

#plunged into the toa ao3 tag #and returned annoyed and frustrated #so hard to find my boy #so hard to find fics for toa IN THE TOA TAG #like. please. please. i am begging you. please properly tag your fics.#proper tagging also means NOT tagging fandoms that have NOTHING TO DO with your fic #when i write my fics i tag them All Media Types and ToA #because they are about Apollo and the wider rrverse #but i've seen fics tagged as toa and NOTHING from toa shows up in them #NOTHING #no apollo. no meg. nothing.#and really apollo should be the main selling point #if he's not an important character in the fic than honestly the fic's not toa #exceptions are meg-centric fics or a character who debuts in toa #like lavinia or crest or emmie and jo or-#you get my meaning #so i've decided to throw this out there #please please please tag fics correctly. please. i know i'm not alone in this the toa fandom has a hard enough time okay do us this favor #AND YES. i know. “use the filter” and I HAVE been doing that BUT EVEN SO it's STILL difficult to find toa-centric fics!#i'm just. frustrated. it'll be a big help if ao3 writers would do this for us. please. i know i'm not alone in this #please and thank you #percy jackon and the olympians #the heros of olympus #the trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #heros of olympus #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #percy jackson #rick riordan

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ineffabildaddy · 3 months

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can someone come and switch my brain off at 9pm each night because the "my fics are shit and i'm not saying anything worth saying with them" thoughts really do tend to fly at me with increasing fervour as the eve wears on

#i just. find it very difficult to feel proud of myself for very long #or happy with my work #because ultimately there's so so many fic writers out there who've been doing it for so much longer than me #so so much better than me #and like #that's okay #i never expected or wanted to be the best #and i still love writing fic sm #it's become my lifeline #but my brain is constantly going hmmm aren't u shit tho #like aren't there far more fascinating writers to be reading #okay i think i'm done now #personal #ineffabildaddy

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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months

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I don't know how I'd ever convey this in art but. Thinking very deeply about how in boy king au, a very crucial part of characterization is that Seb is a wolf in sheep(or lamb more specifically)'s clothing and Fernando is a sheep in wolf's clothing.

Seb is very unassuming, very delicate, seemingly very vulnerable and malleable. But, deep down, he can be very ruthless. It's in the the way he hesitantly declares war, with a spark in his eye and a suppressed smirk. In the way he challenges someone to a card game or a horse race, proclaiming that he's not great, but winning every round and prancing around the room and mentioning it ad infinitum. The way he's able to instantly turn the tide in a debate in one fell swoop. By showing all his cards constantly and letting himself be vulnerable, he's making himself invulnerable. No one would ever consider him to be able to make big moves, so he wins every single time, because no one even thinks to expect it from him.

Fernando on the other hand, is constantly committed to having a looming presence and harsh reputation, but deep down, he's soft. He knows what happens to people when they're vulnerable, and he's not going to let himself be taken advantage of. The way he keeps a brave face when being informed of the marriage proposal, but goes back to his room and cries. The way he proclaims that he was always going to be the rightful ruler of Spain, but confides to Flavio that he never thought there was any real chance of it ever happening. The way he takes himself so seriously in public, but inside feels so giddy whenever he can make someone laugh. Everything to him always feels unstable and ready to crumble at any moment, and he's not willing to contribute to that by letting himself relax.

I think thats why it's very difficult for them to get along at first, because they have completely different approaches to how they carry themselves and make their way through life. Seb is confused at Fernando because he feels that he's very bland and overly serious at first, but truthfully he's not really seeing the actual Fernando. And Fernando finds Seb to be naive and easily taken advantage of, but that's because he's never seen Seb at his most cruel. Seb really loves when he eventually gets to see Fernando being vulnerable, and Fernando really admires and respects Seb when he sees him being serious. I think it just takes a while for them to show the other their full and complete selves, even the parts they can sometimes be ashamed of. There's this very compelling dichotomy in Seb laying out all his cards, but still being very difficult to read, and Fernando keeping his cards to his chest, but his intentions often being easily seen through.

#meanwhile everyone else: what is this weird fucked up mating ritual they are participating in #though i think its very interesting how their motivations differ #seb wants to lull people into a false sense of security(and also really just likes to be his complete unadulterated self)#and fernando is guarding himself because he doesn't want to get hurt #and i think seb convinces Fernando that its okay to be openly soft and yourself :) not eveyrone is out to get you #and fernando teaches seb hey maybe dont invite this obvious assassin to your chambers?????#i think seb also has insecurites but Fernando's are just more easy to explain bcs hes in a much more difficult situation #at the end of the day both of them are putting on facades in some way #(i think seb likes to be himself but also does feel really hurt when people dont think he has the capacity or ability to rule effectively)#(he likes to be kind and playful and doesnt want to obscure that part of himself. but hes aware it can hurt his image unfortunately)#also lol the way i characterize fernando is very historically accurate btw #bcs the spanish court tradition was basically to be above it all and be a lofty unobtainable figure if that makes sense #yknow having just this insane level of confidence and infallible image of yourself as the ruler #the guy seb is based on really bought into that idea but i dont think it really suits seb so yeah #seb I think is very much a unique figure that others have a lot of trouble reading him and his intentions. which is great!#AAAAAHHH MAN FELT REALLY GOOD TO WRITE ALL THAT OUT !!!!!!!!!#i love writing their characterization so fucking much you dont understand #its nice to put it in words like this bcs yknow i dont rly enjoy actual writing. but this i enjoy greatly #hope this is compelling to more than just me hahaha #boy king au #catie.rambling.txt #vettonso

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seraphiism · 1 year

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

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

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

↬ xiao ࿐ ࿔

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

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

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

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

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

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

"read to me?"

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

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

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

"you subject yourself to strange things."

"you like it."

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

"do i? i wonder."

↬ shenhe ࿐ ࿔

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

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

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

↬ kazuha ࿐ ࿔

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

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

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

"thank you."

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

↬ zhongli ࿐ ࿔

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

it is difficult, zhongli thinks, to survive.

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

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

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #alhaitham x reader #shenhe x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #okay i was going to do 10 characters per post..tht way there's only 2 parts but #150 words are difficult bc it takes awhile to figure out how to do everything + everyone justice with such a limitation #so i think 5 per post will be good :^)))#also reading everyone's lore and quotes again .. made me very sad #.: writing #.: multi

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babacontainsmultitudes · 10 months

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Lincoln and Grant eventually having a very emotional and much needed talk over the speaking stones do you see my vision?

Lincoln who is so hurt and betrayed that he can't even bear to look at his dad right now, who *needs* space, but who loves his dad (the fucking poeticism of that nat 20 babeeey) and keeps the stone with him as a compromise, for when he's ready, as a show of love in and of itself, that he's still his dad's baby, eventually choosing to give him another chance.

Grant who loves his son more than anything in the world, but who can no longer avert his gaze and speak in half-truths and jump off of (cat)buses. Grant who *needs* to prove that he can confront himself and talk about his pain and his shame and his mistakes and try for his son's sake if not for his own to love himself and see himself as something other than broken and beyond repair. Grant who's last chance is stripped of all possibilities of escape and now he can only talk. But maybe it's easier this way for him too. To not have to look at the child he tried so painfully hard but ultimately failed to protect as his heart unravels, to pretend that he is alone with his thoughts rather than speaking to someone, to let the tears fall down his face without having to be seen.

#well at the very least I see my vision lol #it's sad Wilson hours what can I say I'm so worried about them #lincoln li wilson #grant wilson #dndads #dndads spoilers #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 ep 38 #spoilers #are you okay baba you haven't touched your speaking stone #I'M FINE I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM #no I've been a bit frustrated cause I have a big thing I've been trying to write about Lincoln and to a slightly lesser degree Grant #and perhaps the Wilsons more generally #but it's been hard to get to for some reason #but all that is on the past and the present #I really don't know what's going to happen with them #I've felt for a long while that their relationship would be the most difficult one to repair #definitely still feel that way oh yes all the more so now #but fuck I want so badly for them to get through it

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good-beanswrites · 7 months

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hello beans!! hope you're doing well 💜 ^w^ I know you've probably gotten a lot of requests - but I'm gonna add to that pile anyway because it's fun and also your writing is wonderful and always cheers me up to read!! I'm so inspired by your drabbles and you really bring these characters and this little world to life ;w;

From drabble list #1:

14. "Please tell me, this is not why you woke me up."

Character(s): honestly anyone, but my gut was saying Es as soon as I saw that sentence so... up to you!

Woo thank you pal, same to you!! Thanks for your kind words ah ;--; This is the perfect line for Es omg, I've been cracking up over it for so long 😂 I was tempted to write them waking up for T2, taking one look around and going "uh-uh," but decided on some T1 comedy...

Es rarely dreamed. Usually it was vague images and thoughts. Sometimes it was just them thinking about breakfast the following morning. Occasionally they were plagued by a nightmare of being forced to sing karaoke with the prisoners. Most of the time, though, it was just silence that welcomed them at the end of the day. Wonderful, peaceful, silence.

BANG-BANG-BANG!

Someone slammed their fist on the door. Es just about fell out of bed.

Mikoto’s voice came from outside. “Oi, get up! There’s been… uh… an incident!”

That was the last thing a prison guard wanted to hear at -- Es checked the clock -- 2am. Damn.

They muttered to themself as they threw on their uniform. Why the prison’s cells didn’t lock was beyond them. Some of the prisoners were more troublesome than others, but the first trial had been going smoothly thus far. Why now?

Their mind flashed with various possibilities, each one worse than the last, all urging them forward. By the time they were running down the hallway, their shirt buttons were a row off, and they had to switch their shoes to the opposite foot. They adjusted the cap clumsily on their head.

Fear gripped their chest as they heard Jackalope’s voice crying out for help from the panopticon. Jackalope never called for help.

Es burst into the room. The prisoners froze, looking up guiltily.

They sat in a huddle on the floor. Yuno and Muu held the little furry warden over a tub of sudsy water. Bottles of soap and shampoo sat nearby. An assortment of brushes and combs sat to the side. Splashes of water spread across the prisoners and ground, speaking to several failed attempts at getting Jackalope into the bath.

Nearby, Mahiru was holding up the tiny guard’s uniform, her sewing kit spread out on her lap. Es spotted bandages on Yuno’s and Kazui’s fingers. Shidou was currently dabbing blood off Fuuta’s nose as he fumed. Jackalope leaned over to nip at the hands holding him, but Yuno and Muu held him fast.

“Es!” came his frantic voice as he thrashed around. “You gotta help me! Make them stop, dammit!”

From the group of prisoners who had been watching from a distance, Haruka turned to them. “Oh! Es! Th-they thought that he needed a -- uh, a bath! His uniform had a h-hole, and Mahiru can s-sew! And they thought, they thought we could do it all t-together… Muu called it a -- a spa night…”

“At two in the morning?” Was all that came to mind.

“We tried to get him to do it earlier today,” Muu said, “but we didn’t get a chance until now.”

“They didn’t get a chance to kidnap me, she means!” He squirmed around some more, swinging his antlers wildly. “They hid around the corner and nabbed me like the filthy criminals they are!!”

Yuno said, “hold still,” as she brought him closer to the water. He kicked his feet wildly, screaming at Es to show a little authority and do something.

“Hold on a second,” they stopped her.

They closed their eyes, pinching the bridge of their nose. They took a measured breath. They were here to contemplate sin and crime, guilt and forgiveness. Their job should have consisted of questions about morality and life and death; they never anticipated looking around their prison and asking, “is human shampoo even safe for his fur?”

Kotoko spoke up from the other side of the room. “That’s what I thought, but is he really a rabbit? He eats human food and everything, we didn’t think a bit of soap was that different.”

Jackalope disagreed (“that stuff is as bad as poison -- poison I tell you!”) but the others chimed in with their agreement. From around the room came promises that they were being gentle with him, and that they’d keep quiet, and that they’d dry and brush his fur really well when they’d finished, and that they’d feed him treats, and that his uniform was already good as new, and so on. A few complaints at getting bit mingled with Jackalope’s own insults.

“-- Alright.” Es held up a hand to silence them all. They knew a warden shouldn’t be making compromises with their prisoners. At the same time, they didn’t have the energy to argue about bunny baths at this time of night. “You can continue, but wash him outside of the tub. And go easy on the shampoo. Any mess you make must be cleaned by morning.”

They were met with excitement and thanks. Jackalope grumbled that they were too soft, but he sounded relieved as he was whisked away from the dreaded bathwater.

Es sighed. There may have been a few bites and bumps, but that was all. No emergency, no fight, no danger plagued Milgram tonight. Their relief quickly turned to annoyance. They leveled their gaze at Mikoto as he entered from the hallway behind.

“Please tell me this isn’t why you woke me up.”

“Huh? Oh, this? No, no -- we have everything under control. Aw, Mappi, that looks great!”

He pointed at her sewing job, revealing bandages on his hands as well. It looked like no one was safe from the rabbit’s little teeth… Then Mikoto jabbed a thumb casually over his shoulder. “Nah, the faucet in the men’s room broke when we tried filling the basin. The whole room’s flooded now. I think it’s gonna start spilling into the hallway soon.”

“WHAT?”

#milgram #es #jackalope #mikoto kayano #and some others #rip es... they are eternally dealing with So Much Bullshit.... 😂😂😂#half the fun was actually writing it and the half of it was sitting around brainstorming all the options of trouble the prisoners could #be getting into at odd hours of the night LMAO #i cycled through so many dares/challenges (the fucked up high school variety) - competitions - show offs - crazy games #and thats Before i considered the genuine trouble they could get into #the line was so versatile asdfsdfsd #anyway uhh dont try this at home and all that -- apparently bathing bunnies IS bad for their fur and very distressing 💀#but im sure our little cryptid prison warden can handle it...#amane and haruka arent involved directly but they are chilling okay #its getting more and more difficult to write milgram humor as they reveal more and more character trauma but im trying!! 😭#thank you so much for the request! these have been such a blast -- i really appreciate it! you are so kind :')#i hope youre doing well and taking good care of yourself pal!!👍✨#i hope you enjoy :D #drabbles

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