#really not interpretable any other way by the end of the book‚ i hadn’t thought!

[aeide-thea]

tfw it occurs to you to check out the AO3 scene for a book you read a while back and a bunch of the post-sequel fics are tagged, like, ‘don’t read this if you don’t want to find out [character]’s secret identity!!’ which is conscientious and considerate of the authors, except—said secret identity was so heavily signaled in the first book that you’re genuinely startled the fandom at large seems to regard it as remaining in any meaningful way a secret by the end of that book???

#like. not as bad as the da vinci code for Heavily Signaled Pre-Guessability but #really not interpretable any other way by the end of the book‚ i hadn’t thought! #anyway yeah this is abt the hands of the emperor #bookblogging #having said all this i still have no idea what melanie rawn was getting at #with the colors collan sees at the end of mageborn traitor #so like. definitely guessability varies!! #(yeah i AM still bitter we never got book 3 of that trilogy‚ why do you ask) #(the like. reverse sexism situation was very absurd and also i think they were secretly technically scifi) #(in the pern sense where they were like. secretly colonists from earth but it wasn’t actually at all relevant to the events in the present) #(which i just always find a little hilarious‚ idk why) #(but like. the story was twisty and compelling! fun worldbuilding‚ Headscarves 4 Men aside) #(@ ms. rawn if yr out there i WOULD still read captal’s tower if you were to write it‚ js!) #ANYWAY. two totally unrelated book thoughts make a post??

[nebbyy]

Hi! Could you please do a part two to the lester/apollo x reader fic you posted?

Apollo x reader - Eternal Bonds

A/N: thank you so much for your request, anon! Sorry if this took a bit more than the time I usually take to write my fics, but as I said the past weeks have been really tiring for me🥹 

Anyway, I hope you like this fic, I personally like it better than the first part, but as always let me know your thoughts on it<3

Aaaand as always, painting is "Springtime" by Pierre Auguste Cot for anyone interested!

Summary: Having regained his immortality and prestige, all that remained for Apollo was to stabilise something in his life was one thing: you. It might sound easy, but he honestly would disagree.

Warning: it is implied that Athena has a great admiration for reader, but they’re not their child. This reconnects with my own personal thoughts on how Athena’s cabin should work, so the goddess’ relationship with reader in this fic should be seen as the same as hers and Odysseus’ (if you want further explanations on what their dynamic was let me know:))) Also I must say, I haven’t read any of the trials of Apollo books in ages so I took it as an occasion to interpret Apollo’s return to Olympus how I see it more fit to this little scenario of mine.

And lastly, not a warning but this fic starts just a bit before the end of the first part, if anyone was wondering:)

Word count: 3813 (longest fic yet omgg)

Apollo stood there, standing on the elevator that would take him home. How strange, he had dreamed of this moment for months, eager to return to his home and be welcomed as a glorious hero, with restored dignity, free of the mortal shell in which he had been confined all this time. He had imagined himself proud, tall and triumphant as he entered the gates of Olympus.

Yet as he stood on his way home, he could not prevent the continuous movement of his foot against the elevator floor. There was no trace in him of the security typical of a hero, in him at that time reigned only the same anxiety and nervousness that had characterized his mortal form. First it was Apollo inside Lester’s body, now Apollo had his body back, but Lester was inside of him. That Lester had become an integral part of him? Or maybe it didn’t add up, maybe it was always there, unable to make its voice heard under the omnipresent spirit of Apollo.

Okay, maybe he was rambling, but he couldn’t help it when he felt like his nerves were about to make him explode!

The point was, he wasn’t just going home, he was going to convince his father, the king of the gods, the exact same person who kicked him out of Olympus, to make the love of his life immortal so that he could stay by his side for eternity. It was not a situation in which one could easily remain connected to reality.

Finally, the elevator slowed down its run, until it stopped completely and opened its doors with a characteristic "ding".

Slowly, one step at a time, Apollo stepped out of the elevator and advanced to the throne room, walking up the path that would take him directly there. His performance had an air of regal composure, but it was nothing more than a method of masking his tense nerves. He walked until he reached the first areas inhabited by the Olympians and some other immortal creature.

"Apollo? I didn’t know you were already back. We thought it would take you millennia to make it up to Zeus!!" He hadn’t heard it in a while, but there was no way he could ever forget the sound of Nike’s voice. The winged goddess came to meet him flying curiously, also attracting the attention of the entities that had not paid attention to the scene so far.

Some approached, recognizing the face of the beloved god, while others ran to announce his return to the major gods. First came Hestia, who with that loving family attitude, embraced him gently. "Oh Apollo, you were so good! I never doubted you could do it." 

"I can’t say that with as much confidence, but I must congratulate you, Apollo, you have exceeded all my expectations." It was the authoritarian voice of Athena who spoke, who wore a smile on her face, a more unique than rare event. Apollo was so surprised by this unusual compliment from her that he hardly paid any attention to her questioning his chances of success.

For a moment he felt his eyes almost come out of his skull when a large hand was planted on his shoulder to pat him. " Well done, little brother, aren’t you as soft as you look, eh?" Massaging his shoulder, Apollo smiled faintly at the mountain that was his half-brother. "Thanks, Ares, it means a lot I guess..."

He was about to receive the coup de grâce, if it were not for Aphrodite, unconscious of her intervention, she had put herself right in the middle, affectionately placing one hand on Apollo’s shoulder while the other not very secretly found place in that of Ares, to the delight of Hephaestus who observed snorting away from the scene, but thumbs up at the sun god to express his joy.

He didn’t know how long this lasted, or exactly how many gods surrounded him at that point, but when Nike was about to hold a banquet in his honor he couldn’t control his reaction: "No wait!" His tone sounded so panicked that he caught everyone unawares. For a moment the gods almost had the sensation of speaking a mortal, so much his voice had squeaked in the air. Realizing that he had drawn even more attention to you, as if it were even possible in that situation, he gently shrugged his shoulders, to mitigate the gaze of the Olympians his nerves more tense than ever.

"Um I-" he made a false cough to try to regain his posture before starting to speak again, illuminating his companions with a dazzling smile, "sorry, mortal’s pollen, am I right? Anyway, much as I would be... ecstatic to attend a banquet, I’m afraid I must first have a discussion with Zeus about some... matters of utmost urgency! If you’ll excuse me, now.”

With little pomp, he made his way through the crowd stunned at his unusual behavior. "Poor thing, the Earth has changed him." Someone shook their head resigned, someone else did not even notice his abrupt exit, simply saying goodbye and congratulating him as he got smaller and smaller in the distance. The attention to him lasted just before each god went for their merry way. After all, when you have a whole eternity to live, there are few things left for you for a long time.

Everyone resumed doing what they were doing before Apollo’s return, all except Athena. It was in her nature to predict the rival’s moves- or rather, the moves of anyone around her. She may not have been born with the ability to see the future, but her intellect allowed her to come to conclusions almost as apt as an oracle. Silent as night, he followed the solar god, whose aura seemed to be clouded by some heavy burden.

The closer he got to the heavy bronze doors of the throne room, the lighter his head felt, as if his brain had gone numb. He was mathematically certain that he had NEVER felt so nervous in his entire existence. Not even his many figures in human form could compare to how he was feeling at the time. But it’s not like he could back out now, not after all the way he’s come, not after promising you not to leave your side. Not now, that had arrived in front of the doors.

He didn’t even have to knock, or announce his own name. No use, Zeus was waiting for him. Apollo took a breath, pumping his chest to emulate some sense of confidence before making his way into the vast hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked around and looked at the empty thrones, each with small inlays reminiscent of its owner. He passed by his own throne, and a sense of longing pervaded him to the thought that in no time he would have sat there again. Maybe you could convince Zeus to put a similar throne for you next to his own..

No, stay focused, Apollo, first of all he had to convince Zeus to make them immortal in the first place.

Without even realizing it, he was so taken by his own thoughts, he had reached the end of the room, finding himself a few feet from the king of Olympus. Now he could not afford to show himself weak, fearful. Come on, it had to come easy for him, he was also the god of the theater after all! As if a thread pulled him from above, he felt himself erect tall and proud, his chest out, his muscular back straight; a slight halo of light surrounded him, reconferendogli a little of that shine that has always distinguished him from the rest of the gods. He smiled at his father before bowing down gracefully. "It’s good to see you again, Father."

“Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”

“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” Okay, even if he had second thoughts, it was DEFINITELY too late to back out. Yet despite the seriousness of the situation, Apollo no longer felt the same anxiety that had accompanied him throughout the climb to Olympus. He felt powerful, confident in his words, in his actions, but above all confident in you. He knew that if ever there was a mortal worthy of immortality, it was most certainly you. He looked up at his father, this time his smile had become less dazzling, almost a little nervous.

“Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”

“Depends. What is it that you desire?”

“How do you make a demigod immortal?”

Total silence fell in the room. The expression of Zeus was intelligible, and not being able to read the true emotions of Apollo, moreover in such a silent environment did not help to calm his nervousness. Zeus slowly blinked, covering his icy eyes for a moment before opening them again as he breathed in just as slowly. " Few mortals have earned the gift of immortality throughout history. He must deserve that honor with out-of-the-ordinary feats," he paused, as if to reflect, then resumed speaking, in a neutral but glacial and authoritative tone, "this is not impossible, but I count on one bare hand how many times a mortal has been added to the abode of the immortals over the millennia."

"I am aware of this, Father, and that is precisely why I believe that the person I speak of is the most deserving of this honor." Zeus did not answer. Not immediately, at least. He seemed confused and intrigued at the same time, as if he had not expected such a response. " My son, what do you mean by that?" Apollo could not avoid the smile that spread on his face having an opportunity to talk about your countless qualities, which in his eyes were endless. It was one of his favorite activities even when he was mortal, actually.

"You see father, they are a demigod of qualities worthy only of an immortal god. They are strong and wise, although they are still at a young age. They fear nothing but the limits imposed by Olympus, which they have served since the day they set foot inside Camp Half-Blood."He took a little dramatic pause, perhaps expecting to be interrupted by the divine father, but he gave no sign of wanting to intervene in words; he preferred to remain silent, peering at his son while he justified his reasons for satisfying his will.

"And they are beautiful, Father. They shine with a beauty far beyond that of an ordinary mortal. Even on the battlefield, soiled with blood and filth of all kinds, their beauty always resembled that of Aphrodite and Eros and all the gods of all the Pantheons of this world who possess the gift of supreme beauty." To this the father could not suppress a snort of derision, not trusting the words of the son in fact of beauty, "If I remember well such words were spoken by you also for Hyacinth, and before him Daphne, and before her still such a long series of river nymphs and mortal beings that I lost count."

Apollo lowered his head in resignation, sighing gently before looking up to speak again, "I realize this, Father, but I mention their beauty only because it would be a crime against all that is right to omit. However, it remains only one of the many qualities that characterize them, which none of my past lovers can say. But that is not the greatest reason why I consider them worthy of immortality."

"Speak openly then, you know I don’t like to wait." The blond-haired god nodded and took another step towards the king of the gods, his eyes even brighter than before, inflamed by his longing desire to obtain what he most desired in his entire existence. You, at his side. Forever.

"You see, they have done a great service to the goddess of wisdom and the manual arts. They have done the will of Athena and have done such glorious deeds that they have increased her honor. I myself was able to attend only some of their quests, but I assure you that they were so great as to justify the support and blessing of a goddess so hardly affable." To these words, Zeus seemed completely incredulous. In Olympus it was well known that Athena was the beloved daughter of the king of the gods, who always kept her close to him and always made all her will an uncompromising law. It seemed impossible to him that any mortal had been able to win the favor of the goddess, and he strongly doubted the veracity of Apollo’s claim.

The young god opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a voice echoing from behind him, "As much as the idea of supporting Apollo’s petty whims, this time I must agree with him." Athena had followed Apollo to the throne room, suspicious of his strange behavior. He had to be honest, Apollo literally had no idea what to say at that moment; he did not expect to get to that point with his interview and certainly did not expect Athena’s support in his intent. But this was a real blessing, for she herself could bear witness to your worth.

She only gave him a scowling look, like a silent admonition to avoid yelling at him, pick up your mouth from the ground and be a god, genius! But his silver eyes were enough to relay the message, and after a moment Apollo had returned to his usual divine bearing. She blinked slowly before turning her eyes again to Zeus.

"Y/N Y/L is a demigod of undeniable quality, which also left me pleasantly surprised. It is true, they have diligently served Olympus and have especially served me, and I have let them fight in my name precisely because their wit deserved such honor. If only it were possible, I would claim them as my own child, for only twice in my existence have I met two mortal men of equal virtue, and those mortals were the king of Ithaca and your son Hercules, to whom you rightly granted immortality.

You know that I do not speak in vain when I express my opinion, and that is why I consider them worthy to also obtain the gift of immortality, especially when to these incredibly successful quests are added the love of a god and the admiration of another." 

Now Zeus observed the two with two comically wide eyes, mostly due to the unexpected intervention of Athena. Even Apollo could not hide his amazement from that sudden help, but he certainly did not complain at all. Three beats passed, then Zeus cleared his voice and I speak in a more serene tone than before, though still authoritarian, "Very well, if you yourself, Athena, consider this mortal worthy of so many honors I want to believe you. Your lover will be granted immortality, Apollo. This will happen at sundown, when you bring your chariot back here to Olympus. Lead them with you, and they can live forever here with you."

"Yes!!" Apollo threw a fist in the air for joy, a small habit he had taken in his stay on earth, but soon after he realized that perhaps it was not quite the right place to give free rein to his happiness, judging by the unimpressed face of Zeus, "Um, I apologize. I thank you father, for this wonderful gift. I assure you that you will not regret it!" He slowly stepped back as he spoke to him with the biggest smile on his face, extending his arms and bending his knees in a farewell bow. Zeus, for the first time in what seemed like centuries, smiled at Apollo and nodded slightly.

"Enjoy this concession of mine, my son, and may it remain in your mind as your reward for having demonstrated your qualities, even without the intervention of your divinity."

"I’ll never forget it. They’ll never let me!" With some other ceremonious thanksgiving, which they had little given the haste and irrepressible joy of the sun god, Apollo rushed down to Olympus, hastening as much as possible to reach his beloved in the place where they had met. He looked at a clock to see how much time he had left. 7 P.M., he still had some time left. He ran like a madman, until he saw the entrance of the familiar Campo approaching. He ignored everyone around him, his perplexed children, his disappointed fangirls, his friends not too surprised to see him running like a bullet through the field, with the biggest smile they’d ever seen on him. Only Meg had a vague feeling about what exactly happened, but even if she did, she didn’t say anything and just looked at him smiling before going back to her things.

Apollo entered the forest next to the Camp and continued to run. Lucky he was back in his cool form, if he was still Lester would have collapsed out of breath for half an hour. And then finally, he finally arrived at your rendezvous point. She found you there, gently lying on moss, slumbering from the weariness of the activities at the Camp and from the worries you had freed yourself of the previous day, in that exact same place, when you had finally found your beloved. Apollo was quivering, thinking how you would react to the awakening, among the golden blankets of his heavenly palace. What would you have said seeing your body invigorated and illuminated by immortality. What would you have felt seeing that his declarations of eternal love were not fallacious, but promises that he had dedicated himself body and soul to keep.

He gently picked you up, taking care not to wake you. He invoked his golden chariot and rode with you to your new home. He kept you close, as much as he was physically allowed by the confined space. The journey did not last long, being facilitated by the godly transport; once arrived right in front of the golden gates of the Apollonian abode, he took you back in his bridal style, leading you to his- your bed. You were stretched out just as he saw your skin begin to shimmer gently, its color gradually became richer and filled with eternally vital sap. He stood by your side, filling your neck and shoulders with kisses as he crouched behind you, eagerly awaiting your rebirth as a deity.

In the morning you woke up with a strong light that dazzled you. You thought it was Apollo, who since he had returned to his true form had regained all the lustre of his nature. But no, it wasn’t him; it was you, whose skin emanated a faint light that bounced against the various gold inlays that were in the bedroom. Yeah, you didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed, the last thing you remembered was lying in the forest moss while you waited for Apollo. Wait a minute, this isn’t even a room in Camp Half-Blood! 

You did it to snap up to the alert, but then you stopped when you felt the familiar touch of Apollo caressing your shoulder, sliding towards the back of your neck and passing through your hair, which had been twice as long as the day before. Normally you would have yawned, but it didn’t seem physically possible to experience any fatigue in the state you were in. You felt... almighty. You finally turned your attention away from your body and turned it towards Apollo, who was already looking at you with a loveless look.

"Good morning, beautiful." You smiled though still confused by the situation you were in. Tempting your luck, you took a sigh and then you spoke, your melodic, honey-sweet voice even though you just woke up, "'Chicken, where are we?"

"We are in Olympus my dear. I promised you that I would not forget you, that I would love you forever. And I meant every single word I said, which is why I had a little conversation with Zeus earlier, and well... let’s just say with a little help I was able to convince him to give you immortality." He said it with the biggest and most satisfied smile I’d ever seen on him, and meanwhile he hugged you and held you and caressed you all over his body, as if to confirm himself that all this was true.

You were utterly speechless, incredulous at what this god had just done in the name of love for you, but at the same time you felt a warm feeling pervading you from within, filling you with joy and happiness, as if that of him had infected you like a disease. You held your hands to his face and laughed in disbelief and said, "You’re the biggest crazy idiot I’ve ever met, Lester!" 

He laughed with you, feeling pervaded by this joy that moved him from within, almost pushing him to tears by the power of these feelings. Holding you tighter, she stroked your silky soft hair as she chuckled happily, "I guess you’ll have to get used to the gold and clouds here." " Still better than a bunk bed to share in five."

Laughing together, you held each other so long as you had time, before he had to take off and lead the sun across the sky. Before he got on the golden chariot, he touched your face with his bronze hands and kissed you gently. " I still can’t believe I’m gonna be able to kiss these lips forever, Y/N." You smiled at him before you grabbed him by the shoulder to push him towards you, and kissed him again. " Then hurry up and leave, so you’ll be back soon and I’ll have a chance to convince you that everything is real." Winking at him, he laughed loudly and heartily, a more melodic sound than any lyre or flute.

"Then I shall not be long in returning to your arms, my lord" And so he departed towards the horizon, and you smiled as you watched him disappear into the sky, thinking with satisfaction of the world that will look up to him with longing and admiration, knowing that he will never again stop for anyone but you, once his daily duties are over. 

#the trials of apollo #trials of apollo #apollo x you #apollo x reader #pjo apollo #apollo #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #meg mccaffrey #zeus pjo #athena #writers on tumblr #fluff #gender neutral reader #reader insert #lester papadopoulos x reader #lester papadopoulos

[delyth88]

Loki episode 5 reaction and initial thoughts

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I can’t believe it! I’m so unused to getting what I hope for with Loki in movies and TV that I almost don’t know what to do when you get almost exactly what you’d hoped for!!!!!   (Within the bounds of this being the TVA version of Loki of course.) That was excellent!  And hit most of the key things I was hoping for as well as giving some absolutely charming additions!

It packed in a lot of story, and it was a delight to see the characters on the timeline. It wasn’t as gripping and tense as the last episode, but that's probably a good thing for my stress levels lol! But it was a really lovely time travel story.

And Loki has unlocked a new ability. Maybe.

The opening music!! Perfectly creepy!  And even more so than the music over the credits of the last episode. It really sounded like the disintegration of reality!

And I loved the way the letters disappeared from the Loki title card… *shivers*

It was a small thing, but nice to see at least one thing I’d guessed correct – that they started the episode with the reverse of this shot at the end of episode 4.

I loved how spooky it was having Loki walk through the corridors of the TVA by himself. And I did rather enjoy the moment he almost met himself.  That was cute. But it was clear that they needed to get on to other things quite quickly – there was a lot in this episode!!

The imagery of the universe disintegrating was perfectly terrifying! (Although I was getting big “snap” vibes.)  And what is Fail Safe Mode? And does it matter?

I was a little sad to see Casey was a prisoner. 😔   But I wonder if we’ll see these timeline versions of the characters again?  I feel like the need for them is over? Unless maybe briefly at the start of the last episode. So we didn't have to watch him being particularly horrible.

I didn’t pick that he’d be the first person Loki would visit, nor did I pick that it would all be unintentional. 

I did like the way Loki still hoped that Mobius would recognise him. And the conversation itself was ambiguous enough I suppose for the first couple of sentences that you could interpret it that way. Poor Loki looked so disappointed!

I laughed as was intended at the imitation of the inflatable advertising character.  😁

And then OB!!!  Omg!  I LOVE what they chose to do with his character!!!  He was so sweet, and retained his enthusiastic and super intelligent personality! I hadn’t really settled on what I thought OB might have been like on the timeline, but this was so much better! And how he was like “and I had to get a PHD to keep my day job as a theoretical physicist”….!  😄

And @pinkpondofasgard I hope you’ve seen this episode when you see this mention, because spoilers - looks like you were right about this being a location from OB’s past!  Which I think is super cool!  I don’t have any idea what this would be in the 1990s in the US, but obviously it worked so well for OB that he replicated it in the TVA!  Unless this whole series all turns out to be his dream… Ha ha! Ha…. ha…… er…  Anyway. I love that so many of the shelves are covered in books instead of technical TVA equipment.

Okay, so now I’m seriously thinking there’s a chance OB might actually be the founder of the TVA.  HWR could easily have come along later and taken over the leadership and wiped his memories.  But the fact the rooms are sooooo similar is just a bit too weird.

I did like how they handled Loki explaining things to Mobius.  Mobius was suitably sceptical and Loki was trying so hard not to sound threatening, but that’s not really his bag, is it. Lol! Things would definitely have gone pear shaped if OB hadn’t turned up.

I feel like Loki’s getting a lot of use out of the phrase “I promise you this will make sense” lol!

While I was kinda looking forward to the multiple crazy conversations while Loki tries to convince people he’s not mad, I do appreciate they had to make this quick, and I liked how they made each interaction shorter than the one before it, until he didn’t even need to say anything after stepping through the time door.

Then there was Sylvie.  I was by this point just as surprised as Loki that she kept her memories.  Now I have to assume that’s because she wasn’t ever a TVA worker who had her memories wiped.  But if that’s the case, then why wasn’t she in the Loom room with Loki when he ‘woke up’?  I’m assuming we’re meant to understand that this is because Loki feels most at home in the TVA, rather than Asgard. I find that's a little bit much, personally.  But I guess I’ll put that one to the side for the moment.

I did not expect her to be so adamant about not helping.  I mean I should have, but I didn’t. Their conversation at the bar was interesting, and I liked that Loki was so concerned that the TVA folk get a choice.  (And I kinda think now that they might, come the end of the season.  With OB choosing to stay because it’s literally his dream, Casey because it’s better than being an escaped prisoner, and B-15 and Mobius choosing to leave.)

The whole scene in the record shop – that was cool!  The small things that went wrong first, and the way the store owner slowly noticed it. *shivers*

Although again, very similar to the snap. I like how small objects vanish first, and I really should have seen that coming when the tempad went missing, but I didn’t.  I think there was just so much squashed into this episode!

And this was such a haunting image.

And then Sylvie says “there’s nowhere left to go” before she too disintegrates.  Eeeee!

Again, this looked really cool!  Are we meant to understand that Loki could hear a moment in the timeline of a person each time he touched a thread?  I wonder if that holds for any thread? Or was that just illustrating his memories?

I’m not sure that’s important though, given he almost immediately jumps back to the TVA, but we haven’t seen this image from the mid-season trailer yet. Not one from this angle where Sylvie is still whole, and where Loki is standing confidently and making this specific gesture.  I wonder now if he’s just snapped his fingers? Perhaps this moment is revisited, or perhaps just an alternate take that looked cool for the trailer.

I did like the ending, and how he jumped back to them all to tell them he’d figured out how to do it.  I wonder if he’ll be able to come back to them under his own steam at a later date? 

I’m still not entirely sure if this is something that in integral to Loki now or whether its related to circumstances. Like will it be possible to time-slip after the TVA is restored? If that means going back within the TVA before the moment he started time-slipping in the first place. *shrug*

So, what point did he jump back to?  There’s an alarm blaring in the background, but no other identifying things.  So I’m guessing this is just as they watch Timely go down the stairs to suit up?

Does he try to stop Timely from going out there? Explain it didn’t work, and then ask OB for information in the last few moment before jumping back further?

And more importantly, after the multiverse is saved, does this mean he can jump to the time and place of any person he cares about?  Could he visit his Mum? Or a Thor?!! 🥲

Ah!  This was a really great time travel episode! And I'm thoroughly looking forward to the final episode.

Tagging @sparklegemstone @pinkpondofasgard @woodelf68 @scintillatingshortgirl19 @projectprotectloki @ladyofthestayingpower @juliabohemian @galaxythreads @makerofrunevests @thelightofthingshopedfor

As usual, please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged. :)

#loki #loki series #loki season 2 #loki review #loki show #loki s2 #loki series speculation #tva #loki s2 ep5 #surely they can't have him die at the end of the series.... #right...? #right............? #loki spoilers

[thegettingbyp2]

Hiii! So glad ur writing for Aaron again. I really love Joshua Bassett's song "Different" and honestly I think Aaron would like it too. Could you base something off the lyrics please?

There's a lyric that goes

"I'm back in your arms but everything's changed, now we've been to hell and back again"

and i think that would be really good? Idk if you'd interpret it as smut but whatever you wanna do with it! And I really dig how you made your own mini universe thing with never meet your heros so like I think it would be cute for this. (Again all up to u I'm not the most creative LOLOL)

Hell and Back

A/N: I don't know this song but I've tried my best so I hope you enjoy!

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You knew that being so far away from Aaron was going to be hard; but you never thought that it was going to be this hard. You were coming up to your two-year anniversary and you hadn’t physically seen him in 7 months. With the both of you working on Broadway or in the West End, it was hard for you both to get time off to see each other so your relationship was currently limited to phone calls and facetimes whenever you got the chance and it was killing you.

The long-distance was proving hard for both of you, with arguments springing up about the smallest things and, you would never tell Aaron this, but most nights, you ended up crying yourself to sleep, fearing that the two of you were drifting apart too much. However, tonight, even though you weren’t arguing per se, you were feeling defeated.

‘I think that’s too long! We’ve already gone 7 months without seeing each other, and now you want to go for another 3?! Aaron that’s going to be almost a year since we saw each other and I don’t know if I can do that!’

‘I know, baby, but I don’t think we have any other choice. That’s the closest time I can get off and you’ve just started rehearsals for Wicked and there’s no way you can miss that,’ Aaron replied as you sat on your sofa, propping your phone against a couple of books that were sitting on your coffee table so you could still see Aaron on your screen.

‘Do you really think we can do this though?’ you asked, sighing heavily when you realised that he was making a good point. ‘Because I’m not sure that we can keep going on the odd ten-minute facetime whenever we both happen to be free and with the time difference.’ Your voice broke at the end of the sentence as you felt tears pool in your eyes and you were quick to look down at your hands, not wanting Aaron to see.

It was breaking your heart, having to talk and think like this, you loved Aaron with your whole heart and you really didn’t want to break up with him, but you could feel yourself reaching your breaking point and you knew that you wouldn’t survive it if you let it break on its own.

‘(Y/N), what are you trying to say?’ Aaron asked cautiously, worry filling his face.

‘I’m saying that I don’t think we can go another three months like this, and we’d be stupid to try,’ you began, looking back at your screen, tears dripping freely down your face. ‘If we keep this up, it’s just going to hurt us both more at the end.’

‘Yes, we can. Baby, it’s only three months and then I can come over there and - ’

‘Aaron, come on,’ you interrupted, ‘every time we talk at the moment we fight and then act as if nothing happened and we can’t carry on like that.’

‘Don’t do this,’ Aaron whispered brokenly, tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

‘I love you so much. That’s why I have to do this, if I don’t, we’ll end up hating each other and I never want that to happen. I’m going to go and I think it’ll be best if we don’t talk for a while, okay?’

‘No, (Y/N), just listen, please,’ his voice cut out abruptly as you ended the call, knowing that if you stayed on the phone any longer, you’d let him talk you out of it. Now sitting in the suddenly silent room, you let everything that had just happened catch up to you and before you knew it, you were laying on your sofa, sobbing.

---

It had been a week since you’d broken up with Aaron and you hadn’t brought yourself to leave your house once. You hurt, you physically hurt. You’d always thought that Aaron was the one; that you’d get married and have kids, and you couldn’t wait for that. So, to have that swept out from under you? You felt like your world was crashing down around you.

When you heard a knock at your door, you couldn’t help but be relieved when you thought about how you managed to shower and wash your hair today. Expecting it to be your new director, you were quick to answer the door, but you stilled when you saw Aaron standing in front of you.

He looked terrible. He looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept for the past week. Upon seeing him, your eyes filled with tears and you felt your knees threaten to give out from underneath you. Quickly, Aaron crossed the threshold and gathered you into his arms, propping you up against his body as he gently closed the door. You let your tears fall down your face, neither of you saying a word as Aaron lowered you to sit on the bottom step of your stairs. Crouching down in front of you, he guided your head up until you were looking at him, brushing your tears away as fast as they were falling, not bothering to wipe his own.

‘What are you doing here?’ you voice was shaky. ‘I thought I said - ’

‘You really think I was going to let you leave it at that?’ he asked, chuckling softly through his tears. ‘I hopped on the first flight I could, so I could make this right.’

‘There’s nothing to make right, Aaron,’ you replied, exhausted with having the same conversation over and over again. ‘It’s going to be exactly the same when you go back to New York and - ’

‘I’m not going back to New York.’

His words brought everything to a standstill. Your face must have shown your confusion as you tried to process what he’d just said because he took both of your hands in his and sat cross-legged in front of you.

‘I’m moving here. Obviously, I’ll have to go back to New York to sort my things out but then I’m moving here. Permanently. When I got on the plane to come here, all I was thinking was that I couldn’t lose you. Nothing was worth more to me than you and I’m not prepared to give you up before I at least tried to fight for us.’ When you didn’t respond, he carried on. ‘I haven’t found a place yet, but I can stay in a hotel until I do and I’m going to spend every single second proving to you that this can work.’

There was something about his words, the determination in his voice that showed you just how much he meant it and you felt hope fill your chest.

‘You’re staying here.’

‘Yeah, baby,’ he said softly, smiling gently at you. ‘I’ll find a place and then - ’

‘No, you’re staying here. You’re going to move in here. With me.’

You watched as he breathed a sigh of relief and a smile flooded his features. All of a sudden, you were being pulled off of the step and into his lap. You were quick to wrap your arms and legs around him like you were a koala as you buried your head in his neck. One of his arms wrapped around you as the other cupped the back of your head, holding you against him as he pressed kisses to the side of your head.

You don’t know how long you were sitting there, just holding onto each other, but the lyrics to one of your favourite songs popped into your head and you couldn’t help but smile when you thought of how fitting it was:

I’m back in your arms but everything’s changed, now we’ve been to hell and back again.

#aaron tveit #aaron tveit imagine #aaron tveit x reader

[penguwastaken]

On ‘Danganronpa Togami’ also, I would be of the viewpoint that most of what happened in the present in terms of actual events not merely spoken of was real (unlike the interpretation of certain others) and that the way Borges worked was essentially like a more advanced versions of the vision filters from ‘Black Mirror’, replacing what was seen/heard by Blue Ink with regards to the identities of (some of) the people who were being encountered then being obscured/replaced with others if they seemed to contradict what Blue Ink’s reality (as Byakuya’s biographer) was supposed to be, and what words they were saying. That what can be guaranteed to have been real 100% would be those scenes Borges wouldn’t have had the right context to in order to properly filter it off into something else, like most of the Ultimate Despair encounters, Byakuya calling Junko, the brief Mukuro encounter, Toko showing up and Genocide Jill going into action, etc., as well as any information given by characters in the games (like there being 15 to 108 Togami siblings). One particular fan theory building on this concept that I like being that the real Shinobu who died was the actual decapitator in the island flashbacks, Borges having switched around the identities of the major players in terms of what they did in presenting a facsimile of the past for her to look back upon. And that while the Ultimate Imposter may very well have been one of the many Togami siblings, it didn’t matter anymore to his present goals with Ultimate Despair, the ‘Kazuya’ Orvin made that way basically to see how his original plan might have gone if he hadn’t met Junko. It was a trilogy that seemed to assume one had played the other games/read the other novels, that its readership would understand what certain things would be referring to, even if not explicitly spelled out.

What would be your thoughts on the trilogy?

If you want a very short description of my opinion of Danganronpa Togami, it's basically this image.

I can't help but think that maybe if i read the Kaguya Family Saga novels or if there were just better full translations, maybe i would have liked Danganronpa Togami more. But the truth is, I REALLY don't like Danganronpa Togami. It's honestly one of the worst media experiences I've ever had 😭

My biggest gripe is that i hate that any flaw with its storytelling can be exempt by just saying "well actually it was all fake and you don't know what's real and what isn't" because that just makes it worth nothing, if the bad stuff can be exempt then so can the good stuff. And it is HEAVILY implied that a majority of the novel is fake, the themes rely on it, it's the main point of the novel. And if they were real, that would make it actual dogshit and also just noncanon because it would contradict Danganronpa 3 and Zero.

I genuinely can't tell if I really like the twist or if I really hate it because it makes so much sense in retrospect but getting to that point was an actual pain to read, and the implications of it are also so baffling.

There's so much god awful stuff in this book like Kazuya and Suzuhiko, the weird recurring incest stuff, Byakuya's really bad and flanderized characterization, and all the absurd stuff that happens like Sakura projecting herself or the despair novel but it's all dismissed by the "it was all made up" thing which is so awesome but so stupid at the same time. If that twist was in literally any other novel I might like it but it's handled so poorly that I end up despising it.

Basically, I don't like this novel. And while parts of it matter, for the most part it can be easily dismissed because most of it was canonically made up.

I shouldn't have to read a completely separate book series to enjoy this. There was no need for all of the gross and poorly handled incest and sexual abuse stuff. Byakuya's characterization just makes him insufferable and his entire motive and actions is kind of gross. And to top it all off, NONE of it mattered. It's not like V3 where the events had an effect on the people involved or changed something, the book literally just describes it as another weekend in Byakuya's life and it's all forgotten and most of it didn't even happen. I sat through all of that for none of it to even matter. Basically what it results is self nullifying nonsense that means literally nothing as none of the events happened.

I'm sorry if you like this trilogy, I just can't find many positives. I went in thinking that maybe the hate for it was unfounded, I wanted to like it. I mean, I think Danganronpa 3 is great, I found redeeming qualities in Danganronpa S and Ultra Despair Girls. So if anyone can find something to like in an unpopular piece of Danganronpa media, it would be me. And honestly volume 1 wasn't even that bad, I remember thinking that it was kinda dumb but harmless. But my experience with Danganronpa Togami can best be described as a decent into madness. I have a lot of issues with it, but that's just my opinion.

#danganronpa #dangan ronpa #dr togami #danganronpa togami #danganronpa novels #danganronpa novel #danganronpa book

[geopolicraticus]

Did the "Magicians" reinvent philosophy?

I have finished listening to Time of the Magicians: Wittgenstein, Benjamin, Cassirer, Heidegger, and the Decade That Reinvented Philosophy by Wolfram Eilenberger. I found this book to be frequently annoying, but I nevertheless learned quite a bit from it. Of the four central figures of the book, only Wittgenstein is really familiar to me, so I had much to learn about Cassirer, Heidegger, and Benjamin.

A substantive reason I found the book annoying: certainly all four of the central figures of this book have been influential, but did they “reinvent” philosophy? Perhaps Wittgenstein did; many would argue that Heidegger did as well. A cluster biography of Wittgenstein and others who contributed to the foundations of analytical philosophy would communicate a reinvention of philosophy, or a cluster biography of Heidegger and others who contributed to phenomenology and existentialism would also do, but the figures chosen for this book were moving in such different directions that it would be more accurate to say that they fragmented philosophy than to say that they reinvented it. Benjamin, moreover, was an unimaginative communist who contributed almost nothing to philosophy (he has been influential, but not in any way that has reinvented philosophy), and, while Cassirer was certainly influential, he didn’t put philosophy on a new path.

A less substantive reason I found the book annoying: the author portrays all four of his protagonists as being rebels against academic philosophy, but in fact all four received a conventional university education, all except Benjamin were professors of philosophy, and Cassirer and Heidegger became rectors of their respective universities. These are not the biographies of men who rebelled against academic institutions, but rather of men whose lives were immersed in and defined by academic institutions. The cognitive dissonance here is palpable.

In Chapter VII. Arcades: 1926-1928, the author, in discussing the comical misunderstandings between Wittgenstein and his Vienna Circle colleagues (and here he is spot on), characterizes the attitude of the Vienna Circle logical positivists (and the tradition they inaugurated) as aspiring to be “engineers of the soul,” which he rightly contrasts to Wittgenstein, but which he also intends as a criticism:

“For decades, in ‘Wittgenstein research,’ every inch of interpretation has been fought over as if it were a matter of transposing the architectural plan of a brilliant master without the slightest deviation, rather than continuing to think in terms of the clearest possible vision of our relationship with the world. Precisely as if philosophers were engineers of the soul rather than creative seekers in an open space without a final foundation or a protective cover.”

I will admit I rather like the idea of philosophers being “engineers of the soul.” In early Islamic civilization philosophers were commonly thought of as doctors of the soul. As we have constructed our industrialized civilization, dominated as it is by technology, we stand in need of a new simile for the philosophical task; “engineers of the soul” sounds singularly appropriate to me, and I would be happy to shoulder the label.  

The book culminates in a debate between Cassirer and Heidegger at a conference in Davos in 1929. I hadn’t previously heard of this debate, and, looking it up, I found that there is another book about this, Continental Divide: Heidegger, Cassirer, Davos by Peter E. Gordon, who, like Eilenberger, situates the debate as a turning point (or, if you prefer, a rupture) in twentieth century philosophical thought. Knowing about this debate, I can better understand why the author chose to include Cassirer among his featured protagonists, since it sets up the debate at the end of the book. Still, that’s not enough of a basis on which to argue that the four protagonists reinvented philosophy; they did not.  

#philosophy #Martin Heidegger #Ernst Cassirer #Walter Benjamin #Ludwig Wittgenstein #Wolfram Eilenberger

[kayas-obsession]

I guess it is true when people say a book is never read the same way twice.

I’ve heard a difference in opinion many times.

These are my interpretations on Elriel. To be honest, they were just thrown at me and I didn’t know how to react. I was happy ig? But not really invested. Initially I loved the idea of them.

Then I reread the series.

And I didn’t even know how to interpret it and just thought oh well. Because Azriel still was obsessed over Mor and clearly couldn’t control his emotions so ofc mine for Elriel was all over the place.

Mor and Azriel always felt so uncomfortable for me. Like I couldn’t breathe when they were mentioned together in a romantic way. Because Mor was obviously so distraught over the idea of the two of them together. And then she came out. I was so happy Azriel was out of this cycle because I knew a confrontation was in order.

But then he was suddenly in love with Elain?

Like um, what?

I just couldn’t grasp what happened.

When I tell you how surprised I was to find his behaviour towards Elain during the war. When he gave her his dagger I thought it represented his protective nature. Nothing more. And his anger when she got captured? Kinda suspicious but okay.

I hadn’t read the bonus chapter 2 years ago so no I wasn’t shipping Az with Gwyn.

And then I read the bonus chapter. When I tell you my jaw dropped when they nearly kissed.

The point I’m making is, they just had this buildup all of a sudden that I just couldn’t believe SJM would have planned out.

When SJM introduces something like a kiss or anything intimate it’s always a slow burn. Like sometimes so slow it’s annoying. (TOG, CC, Cassian and Nesta) It was more or less in 30% of the book where they had any progress.

So then I started questioning. Why? To build all that just to drop it in a bonus scene? To inform us a confirmation of their feelings in a bonus which I’m sorry, I had missed for 2 years. Maybe my fault too but it just felt so anticlimactic.

I lost any interest I had in this couple because where was the heat? Where was the toe curling, book-shutting-and-squealing buildup? Where was the electricity that was briefly mentioned in ACOSF? The “I pine for you enough to fight the world much less a high lord” scene? Where was Azriel’s mention of love when Rhys asked him why Azriel had planned to stick his tongue down Elains throat?

And why was Gwyn even mentioned when it was just about these two that I was invested in? And to give her the necklace, a gift he bought for Elain which idk why Elain even sent back to him. And to end the POV with mentioning Gwyn in the same detail he had mentioned the necklace?

So yes I read ACOSF again and this time I knew the devil was in the details.

The promise of a slow toe curling romance was in the horizon and I’m sorry I won’t stay and keep my hopes in a forbidden romance with characters who would give up on each other at the first warning. I’m here for the bickering, the challenges, the ones that make the characters eyes twinkle with glee instead of tears.

If SJM changes her mind I will never hate her for it but a part of me will always be disappointed that she did not use this massive potential of a couple.

#acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara #fantasy #gwynriel #books #anti elriel #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth x azriel #gwyn acosf #gwyn supremacy #gwyn acotar #gwyn x azriel #gwynweek2023

[gretchensinister]

@purplebloodedmajesty also gave me the word "space" when I asked for words. I ended up going in a different direction than I expected, but space is mentioned!

This piece is a fragment of what I’m casually calling the “Garnetting AU.” I want to save most of the explanation for the longer fic, so the things to know for this one: 1) it’s shortly post-movie, Jen, Kira, Aughra, some podlings, and SkekGra and UrGoh are currently at the Castle of the Crystal trying to Deal With All That, 2) the Great Conjunction granted SkekGra and UrGoh a fusion form who is both them and a new person. The fates of certain other parties aren’t defined in this fic and there’s a lot of stuff that isn’t addressed that obviously would be in a longer work.

~*~

“I always wanted to travel through space. Do I not find that aimless desire granted, now that I am the farthest from my origin that I have ever been?” UrGoh’s voice rose and fell as he spoke, as if he were trying to make what he said into a song.

“I knew about the wandering through the stars part, but what do you mean about the rest? Why do you sound like that? And we’re not exactly far from our origin, now.” SkekGra turned and froze when he saw the books in UrGoh’s hands.

One was triangular and made out of some glossy material that neither they, nor Rhoga, nor even Aughra had recognized, but had reluctantly opened to some combination of Rhoga’s hands and breath and voice. It held arrays of symbols that Rhoga could almost recognize and sort of interpret if they didn’t think about it too much. Rhoga didn’t like doing that, though, despite their curiosity, so what they did was make plenty of notes for SkekGra and UrGoh to use when they examined the book. SkekGra intimately understood why Rhoga was uncomfortable with the project. Rhoga was young, and new, and wonderful, and they weren’t the author of this book. At least they hoped they weren’t, and they worried that spending too much time with this book would change them from Rhoga into someone else. SkekGra and UrGoh, on another hand, had crossed a thousand trine, and if even Rhoga and the light of the Great Conjunction hadn’t made them other than themselves, then it seemed unlikely that any book possibly could. SkekGra was still suspicious of it, though. Mostly for UrGoh’s sake. Which was, of course, partly why Rhoga was suspicious of it for their own sake.

The other book was the blank volume that UrGoh had decided to use for Rhoga’s notes. Or, wait, was it Rhoga who had decided to use that book for notes, it was just that UrGoh’s choice had totally aligned with Rhoga’s? SkekGra still wasn’t used to remembering Rhoga-time, or even conceptualizing it. That was all right, though. It was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful to learn. He loved Rhoga just as much as he loved UrGoh. And he loved being Rhoga as much as he’d loved being a young skeksis—maybe even more, even if he couldn’t remember Rhoga’s experiences the way he remembered his own. He thought he’d leave a note to ask Rhoga to write down how they remembered things that SkekGra and UrGoh experienced. Because he really wanted to know what they thought about this.

“That’s—”

“The translation,” UrGoh said. He tilted his head. “The work is almost slower than I can stand. There are complexities that Rhoga has sensed but need an analytic point of view that we don’t share...yet.” He smiled softly. “I wish I could work with them face-to-face. We could work with them. Then again...I have a feeling that between you and Rhoga I wouldn’t get anything done.”

“Rhoga does have a silly tendency to miss you even when they’re happy,” SkekGra said. “I can only imagine what they would be like if they could actually hold you.”

“Well...that all applies to you just as much,” UrGoh said. He paused. “You know...I don’t think Rhoga is in danger from this book...at least not any danger of not being Rhoga. Perhaps the danger is...learning about someone else to miss.”

“Or learning about someone we’re glad is gone—even when he’s not really gone—I—look, what I mean is that all of me came from GraGoh. The Conqueror was already in him.”

“Surely you know by now...that only makes me want to know more?” UrGoh met SkekGra’s eyes. “GraGoh can’t make me love you or Rhoga less, no matter what I find.” He glanced at the more ordinary book. “I want to share this with you.”

SkekGra looked at UrGoh for a long moment. “Well,” he said, “I’ve never said no to anything when you’ve put it like that. And—I can’t forget you were inside GraGoh, too.”

UrGoh motioned SkekGra over to a table where they could sit down. “I haven’t yet figured out if GraGoh or any of the urSkeks would have laughed, been affronted, or even understood the double entendre when you speak of us being inside GraGoh, by the way.”

“Do you expect to?”

UrGoh looked at the urSkek journal thoughtfully. “Yes, I think so.”

“I guess considering all the things we wrote down—all right, what’s—what’s there, so far? And explain it without pauses, won’t you?”

UrGoh looked at SkekGra innocently. “It’s a hard...habit to break.”

SkekGra groaned, and UrGoh reached out and covered his hand with one of his own. “I won’t do it on purpose for this. But I really did get used to thinking and speaking that way...our renewal didn’t undo that.”

“Nothing undone,” SkekGra said. “Ah, fuck it. At least I’ll always know it’s you, talking like that. And my thoughts still race around the place where the nail was. Anyway—so—now—how did GraGoh speak?”

“I don’t know if we can ever know that,” UrGoh said. “The distance between speech and writing...at least this journal was only for GraGoh himself, if the way it was sealed means anything.

“So...the translation is possible because of Rhoga’s...memories, if that’s what they are. Puzzle pieces of the mind...finally fitting together. Their memories link symbol, sound, and meaning. It helps also that we taught each other skeksis and mystic, as both of those share a great deal with the...physical aspects of the urSkek language. Knowing spoken and written ‘Gelfling,’ which is really urSkek-arrival-era Vapran merged with auditory urSkek, also helped. The urSkeks...did not want to keep their way of writing a secret, though I can tell they greatly simplified it in ways that...I doubt were truly necessary.

“What also helps...my memories of how UrAc constructed his chronicles. There was a lingering urSkek sensibility, there.”

“Are you showing off?” SkekGra asked playfully.

“I just want my work to be complete,” UrGoh said.

“Well—you’re making me want to find something I can dig into so I can show off.”

“You were just nervous about this whole project.”

“I—”

“Unless you’re flirting to put off getting to the heart of this…”

“I wasn’t trying to do that, it’s just—” He smiled. “I will always be ridiculous about whatever you do, I guess. Including research. Remember all that prep work to make Lore?”

UrGoh chuckled softly. “I remember...I was the one who accidentally broke your reading glasses...after you made a key breakthrough.”

“My fault for keeping them on. Wanting to see you clear up close.”

“I’m still going to tell you about this translation.”

“Right, right,” SkekGra said, leaning forward, putting his fore elbows on the table, and propping his head in his hands—not neglecting to replace the hand that had been under UrGoh’s with one of his hind ones, of course.

“Cute,” UrGoh said, with a small smile. “Where was I...oh, yes...so, there were many ways that urSkek is still embedded in the languages of Thra. It will take a very long time to go away, if it ever does...if Jen and Kira value connecting to the gelfling of the past in their own language...Aughra hasn’t given them any advice on that but I think she’s ranted to Rhoga about it….

“All this is to say that the structure of urSkek is not nearly as opaque as I first imagined it might be.” He paused. “I imagined the urSkek language littered with inconceivable concepts...relying on shades of meaning too subtle for a mortal mind to distinguish...approaching time in ways I could never comprehend so long as my brain was made of matter. This way of thinking...it helped shield us from GraGoh before the Great Conjunction, and we needed it then. Now, things are different. Even from what little we know...the urSkek are not so incomprehensible. They easily communicated with gelfling. They had opinions on the ways gelfling day-to-day life should be changed and ‘advanced.’ They came from a place with rules, and laws, and customs, and punishments for those who broke them. They have long lives, but each one still has a beginning and an ending...mortals, all. The difficulties in translation instead stem from urSkek senses being very different from ours, and different aesthetics and values. And even so...they were us.”

“So—the way you were almost-singing when you got my attention?”

“My attempt to address what I think are ways of adding emotion and beauty to the text that rely on urSkek senses. Like the figurative and poetic language we use relies on our senses and experiences. I don’t know enough...we, including Rhoga, don’t know enough yet to know the best way to approach that part of the text. So...we may never know if GraGoh was a good writer...but we can know a little about what he thought. About what it was like, for him.”

SkekGra watched UrGoh, who had turned his attention back to the book with the beginning of the translation in it. The urSkek book—GraGoh’s book—rested on the table like any other object. He took a breath, feeling for the hum in his very bones that had steadied him ever since the Great Conjunction, feeling for the shining, pulsing loop of life that was Rhoga in potential, in essence, or both, always present and waiting, just on the other side of a breath, a desire, a choice—especially when he and UrGoh were touching. “I know there’s no reason to be afraid of myself anymore,” he said. “What does GraGoh have to say so far?”

UrGoh smiled, and squeezed the hind hand under his own. Sometimes SkekGra wondered why they hadn’t been fully restored, but when there were moments of such familiarity with UrGoh, he thought he understood. He’d let the light heal him only as much as it could and still leave him UrGoh’s SkekGra.

“‘By the time this record is complete, may it show that my soul is healed and that I may be safely enfolded in the lace of home.’ The word isn’t lace, exactly. I think it’s an idea that I’ll be able to translate better after I see it more. ‘I always wanted to travel through space. Do I not find that aimless desire granted, now that I am the farthest from my origin that I have ever been?’” UrGoh began again. “‘But even traveling into exile felt no different than arriving anywhere else that is connected to our Crystal—like the passing from one room to another, save that we cannot go back. Still—I do feel we are in exile. We lament. I let it flow through me that this seeming-granting of my desire severed me from everything I ever knew.’”

UrGoh paused, and softly hummed an eerie, sad tune for a few seconds. “I don’t know what it should have sounded like,” he said, “but there’s a break in the text that indicates a lament for a still-broken soul. I borrowed the urRu Lament of Repentance. It...helps me understand my translation.

“The text resumes. ‘I do not forget that I am not severed from everything I ever knew. I am with my closest, particular companions. I am still connected with those I held above all else.’ More indications of the lament...I think GraGoh included this when he wrote of something that meant he wasn’t thinking as an urSkek should. ‘This tempers my lament, and makes me feel almost like I have been granted a gift, and not the gift of a duty that will allow all of us, including myself, to correct ourselves. It feels like a gift of honor and joy to be here with my friends. Not everyone felt the way I did, but I had long attempted to imagine what it would be like to leave everything, even the lace, behind. To go beyond our Crystal and discover what existence is like, there.’ I don’t think GraGoh means just the urSkek homeworld crystal, here. There are certain marks that link it to the word I’m translating as ‘lace,’ for now.

“‘I feel that instead of drifting, I am free in a way I could never have conceived within the lace. It overwhelms almost all other feeling, and I suppose I must be patient and careful with my thoughts as I wait for the longing for the lace to return to me, as it must, because after all, I am still urSkek. I know what we are here to do, and the doing will set my thoughts right.’ There are some subtle marks here that are hard for me to interpret, but if I had to guess, they would indicate something about GraGoh not agreeing with the idea that the thoughts he is supposed to correct are actually wrong. ‘For now, the pain waits, and my lament is in an almost unrecognizable key. And I am not the only one. When we disperse—when we are away from those who feel our punishment most keenly, like SoSu—I see that MalVa’s colors approach rapture, and mine probably do as well.’ It’s not ‘see,’ or ‘colors,’ what GraGoh describes here is an urSkek sensory experience.” UrGoh paused and took a deep breath. “‘The world of our exile is astonishing. It is completely unlike homeworld in almost every way, and still I find it beautiful. I didn’t know places like this could exist, and feel so harmonious, while still being entirely wild. Surely there can’t be much work ahead of us to tune this place. I am looking forward to finding out for sure. I imagine passing over every atom of this world, and I thrill at the toil it will be. There are no crystal paths, no memories of others to help me understand what I am seeing more quickly. It will not take endless time to explore one planet, I know, but I feel I have been granted a wonder that is as close to endless as one can be.’ That is as far as I have gotten in the translation,” UrGoh said.

SkekGra lowered his fore hands and wrapped them around UrGoh’s. “There's no point in hesitating to say it, is there? GraGoh sounds like—well, I hear a lot of you, in that.”

“And I hear you,” UrGoh said. “Especially when he’s glad to be in exile with the people he loves.”

“Is love the right word, for urSkeks?”

“I think so...I think that was part of the problem.” UrGoh shook his head. “I can’t help but project everything that tangled up us and the rest of the skeksis and mystics back onto the urSkeks.”

“It makes sense to me. They became us.”

“Still...some of GraGoh’s thoughts remain unfamiliar to me.”

“Conqueror thoughts? I thought I heard a few.”

UrGoh shook his head again. “You showed me the Conqueror. I know what he was like and what happened to every bit of him. I mean...ways of seeing Thra that, truly, neither mystics nor skeksis ever had. Then again...there is so much more to translate.” He met SkekGra’s eyes. “I’m not as fearless as I try to seem...about this translation. But now...we need to know GraGoh. I think I can find him…”

“You found me,” SkekGra said. “And you loved me.”

“It could be a terrible thing...to love GraGoh.”

“Surely only half-terrible, at most,” SkekGra said, giving UrGoh a little smile.

UrGoh turned his hands to cup SkekGra’s and gently press them. “I don’t know what the urSkek homeworld is like,” he said, “but if walking over the ground seemed so wonderful and novel to GraGoh, then I’m glad he had the chance. I’m glad...that stayed.”

“Yes,” SkekGra said. “But you don’t have to act like it’s not uncanny—what we were, what feels like what we could have been, another world, another time—I—I think Rhoga needs to think about this translation. I want to think about this as Rhoga—I need to be Rhoga right now.”

“Breathing as them...knowing their joy as the end,” UrGoh murmured. He left the books on the table and began to walk to SkekGra, who ran up to him before he could take more than two steps.

One embrace. One breath. One being.

“You figure out a triad and suddenly there’s a complicated fourth,” Rhoga said to themselves. “Well, we’ve done that before, too.” They smiled. “Glad I’m less worried about where a book could take me, now. It really didn’t suit me.”

#gragoh #skekgra #urgoh #the dark crystal #the dark crystal: age of resistance #garnetting au #implied malgravagoh lol

[biscuitdetective]

001 Gudaobe >:3c

sorry I tried to reign it in a bit but this is long af lol

When I started shipping it if I did: august 2021, shortly after the lb6 epilogue originally released. I actually hadn’t read the chapter at the time but I read the summaries and thought the ship was probably cute but not particularly deep (fgo master x literally any servant is usually easy mode shipping after all), but when I actually read the chapter I went completely insane about them, and have been insane about them for over 2 years now.

My thoughts: I really like the way Ritsuka starts as a pretty standard and kinda bland almost self-inserty protagonist in part 1 but then in part 2 they very clearly have something wrong with them and their head is extremely Not Okay, and I like the idea that Oberon (and Castoria as a fellow fairy eyes-haver) is one of the only ones that can fully see that. Everyone knows Oberons a liar, but hardly anyone knows Ritsuka has been lying for a while now (about a lot of things, but particularly about being Normal and Okay). The garden of lost will part in lb6 is so, so good.

But I also like how it can also be very unserious because while I like a lot of the angst stuff I also like (/draw)the dumb shit where Ritsuka is just no.1 Oberon simp who does anything he asks because he’s so pretty.

What makes me happy about them: Oberon is extremely miserable and I like to think Ritsuka does make him happy even if he can’t show it, especially since when he’s in Chaldea he’s allowed to just…be? (As opposed to in lb6) I wouldn’t call him a tsundere because the dynamic isn’t quite that but I like how far he has to go out of his way to help Ritsuka in as roundabout way as possible while trying his best to look like he isn’t (the summer event is exactly this). ALSO they are very very cute Ritsuka is like a fluffy dog like a japanese spitz or something and Oberon is a Siamese cat, this is a 10/10 dynamic.

What makes me sad about them: depending on the interpretation of summoning Oberon is either stuck in the abyss forever while a copy of him with the same memories is in Chaldea, or he is saved from the abyss only to have to eventually return there at some point and tbh I don’t know which is worse. also the material book casually noting Oberon would come to ‘accompany’ Ritsuka if they called for him while they were dying, that hurts so good 🥲

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: i have to admit here I don’t really read fanfic but I do read/collect doujins. I don’t like the rapey stuff although tbh it’s way more common with obeguda (one reason why I’m not into it for the most part). I don’t like either of them being sadistic and cruel to eachother for no reason. mostly I don’t really like minibe being lewded, he’s obviously the same character and all but he looks like a weird baby so it can get uncomf visually. I don’t care if people are into that but I can not count the number of times I’ve been jumpscared by it in a pixiv log lol.

things I look for in fanfic: I’m a big dumb idiot masochist and keep buying doujins that look like they will make me cry and then I’m all surprised pikachu face (crying version) after I read them. But I also like dumb gag stuff…and im a sucker for the AUs where they just live together and hang out and be cute and goof off with Castoria, I don’t care that it’s ‘boring’, every time I see it I react like it’s the first time.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: for Ritsuka I’d say Saito Hajime, while I don’t bother to seek it out I do look respectfully at hajiguda if it appears on my feed. For Oberon I don’t ship with anybody else, but the closest thing is that I do really like the tragedy that is him and Blanca (especially since it’s typically one-sided) Blanca is canonically in love with him but according to the material xiii book, she’s (potentially) a cursed princess who isn’t actually a moth, which fascinates me. I also like the theory that she was Titania all along.

My happily ever after for them: Oberon gets granted incarnation as a human by the grail after Everything is Fixed and they live together and also Castoria is there I’m a simple man I’m sappy I eat doujins like this up

Who is the big spoon/little spoon: oberon isn’t a spoon he’s a cat, when he has decided on his sleeping position ritsuka isn’t allowed to move ever

What is their favorite non-sexual activity: I like when they hang out in the welsh forest in the simulator with all the bug fairies. They’re with Castoria a lot too. Oberon is allegedly a good dancer, and whether he actually enjoys it or not, I like to think he does when he does it with them. Maybe he teaches them. 🥹

#long post #ask meme #fighting a constant losing battle to be normal about them

[the-siren-in-your-fridge]

If anyone (including @neil-gaiman if he so desires) has insight to this, I’d really appreciate the insight or other interpretations.

The wizard guy in Stardust promised Dunstan Thorn his heart’s desire as payment for rent, but it wasn’t very clear what that ended up being. I feel like we’re supposed to believe it was a wild night with the fairy girl, but at the time it was promised, he didn’t know her. While good sex is a believable want for an 18 year old boy, I thought it also could be Daisy Hempstock’s hand in marriage or giving her a kiss because he had been into her for a while and he hadn’t gotten any private time with her since they went on supervised dates. Also the fairy girl was someone he didn’t know upon being paid that.

But the book also said the fairy had taken his heart as payment for the flower, so I assume it could be that he wanted her somehow if that was what his heart desired after meeting her.

My assumption as of now is that the wizard dude meant “heart’s desire” in the way other people say “you’ll owe me a favor in the future.” It could be anything up until specifically decided.

#stardust #stardust Neil gaiaman #neil gaiman #am I missing an implication or was it up to interpretation #I just wanna know lol

[properbastard]

In Sharpe's enemy, there's this exchange between Richard and Teresa when they meet outside the Inn and Teresa has just caught him flirting with Josephina, where Richard says he loves her, and Teresa says 'and you think that forgives all'.

What do you make of this line? Does Teresa suspect Richard has been unfaithful, or is thinking of it, or is she just teasing him? Or is she just saying that she knows him - she doesn't seem unhappy, but she does call Josephina a bitch. And she seems to tease Richard a lot about other women, and I can never decide if she's hiding her vulnerability with humour or if it's truly lighthearted.

Anyway, sorry for the random ramble, just wondered if you had any thoughts?

[ While I think this ask is better for @lacomandante/Kiran, who writes Teresa, I’ll do my best to answer!!

So I had my wife ( @lacomandante ) on call while writing this and I don’t have a copy of Sharpe’s Enemy right now, so I had her read the passage to me again. Now, I have a weird amalgamated mix of book and film-canon incorporated here so my interpretation is all over the place.

So, just before the line you mention, Sharpe is teasing Teresa about being “jealous” that he wears a ring Josefina had made for him for the taking of the Eagle at Talavera, and also that he doesn’t really like Josefina, because she’s “too fat.” Teresa has been teasing him since she arrived, and especially latches onto that remark. They also share more than one kiss after this exchange, so the long and short of it is--yes, I think she is entirely teasing him.

In the films, Sharpe is heard saying “you’ve a mind like a rocket, Teresa... too fast for me.” Not only is she brilliant and quick-witted, but she is infamous for teasing him so. Their relationship is built on teasing! It’s part of their love language.

It’s also a bit of a call-out. Josefina was, very audaciously, flirting with Teresa’s husband. Personally, I believe Sharpe was more interested in making Sir Augustus jealous than he was interested in Josefina herself, but he was still allowing it, and he got caught. And Teresa was rightly, viciously, reminding her man who exactly it is he is married to. Now, I don’t particularly follow the book canon for Enemy, ( and I don’t also fully follow the film canon, but that’s a whole big ol’ can o’ worms and like 3 years of private discussions ) but Sharpe rightfully bows, however teasingly, to her remarks.

Again, Kiran is the person I’d ask more for Teresa’s insecurities and such. But there are many ways to look at it. Everyone has their own interpretation and that’s fine! But to me, I think it’s teasing with a hint, just a hint, of insecurity. Teresa and Sharpe do not have a standard marriage--they are both travelling all the time and go months on end without meeting. Hell, they hadn’t seen each other for over a year by the time Sharpe discovered that they had a daughter! They want to be with one another, but they understand on a fundamental level that their marriage is never going to be calm, it is never going to be “normal”, at least, until the war is done and so are their duties. That amount of time in between meetings, regardless of a wedding band, is bound to make someone feel self-conscious. 

“And you think that forgives all,” seems like a weighted sentence, and maybe it is. But given as she kisses him, then chides him for not kissing her well, and makes him kiss her harder, I think yes, it’s more lighthearted than anything. ]

#; mun speaks #meta #lacomandante #[ for the record kiran and i are NOT involved i just thought it was funny to call her my wife #borat voice: MY WIFE #but yeah hooooo boy this is. a big ol meta #haven't written one of these in a whiiiiiiiile #thank you so much for the question tho!!!!!!!! #seriously tho go ask kiran she has been active and i have not i am a SHAM...... i am a DISGRACE........... ] #; 95th Queue

[religiously-inclined]

Back a few years ago, I’d won a book in a goodread’s giveaway called 31 Verses to Write on Your Heart by Liz Curtis Higgs. I wasn’t really paying attention when I entered into the giveaway. It was listed as poetry so I didn’t bother to look any deeper. When it arrived and I saw that it was about Christianity and learning some Bible verses, I panicked. I feared what my mother would say. When she inquired about it, I fibbed and said that I was misled on what it was.

Instead of donating it, I held onto the book. I don’t know if it was my obsessiveness that makes it difficult for me to actually get rid of items (slowly getting better at parting with things), or if something in the universe told me to hold onto it.

When I decided to start my religious journey, I wasn’t sure where to begin with reading. Tackling the entire Bible was daunting and overwhelming. Many, many thoughts raced in my mind and all of them equaled up to I wasn’t ready for the entire Bible yet.

So, I started with this book. I took my time with it instead of devouring it all in one sitting like I do with most of my readings. 

Through this book, I was able to read over a few verses. None of them were even remotely familiar to me, but then again I hadn’t really taken the time before to stop and really learn any verses previously.

Now, having sat down and read it front to back and read over the verses multiple times and even wrote them down in a journal dedicated to my religious journey, I can provide a review.

The book itself is a fairly simple read. The verses to learn are broken down within their respective chapter. Different Bible versions are referenced (and even noted in the back of the book) to help add emphasis into the interpretation of the verse. At the end of each chapter, there are tips to help you memorize - which gets compiled at the very end for you to go over again. In addition to the tips, we are given a study guide to help further our study.

For a beginner who is curious about the Bible and its contents, I would recommend this book. It’s a great way to help you ease into it without being overwhelmed. 

For further study, I would definitely refer to Liz Curtis Higgs’ other works. 

#bible verses #goodreads #christian book #book review #religious journey

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

#jake x reader #jake smut #jake scenarios #jake imagines #jake suggestive #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #enhypen x reader #jake fluff #enhypen scenerios #enhypen suggestive #shim jake #kpop smut #kpop suggestive #jake sim #jake #enhypen #!kay! writer #enhypen hard hours #new writers on tumblr

[whetstonefires]

Okay so having finished The Untamed--

spoilers now but also, I haven't read the book yet so pls don't get into it with me about it if it's super different--

one thing that's really sticking with me is the parallels between Jin Guangyao and Jin Guangshan's deaths.

Specifically, the way Nie Huaisang's choice of final blow resembles what Jin Guangyao did with his father, and how deeply that underlines the way nhs chose to become his enemy in order to defeat him. In a way the plot-level scheming doesn't really achieve that comparison.

Because, see, the thing about Jin Guangshan's death, about Meng Yao bringing in those women to stage a weird noncon death orgy is--that was just theater. For an audience of basically the two of them, since he killed off most of the witnesses afterward.

Jin Guangyao bought and spent a bunch of women's lives to kill his father in a poetically fitting, humiliating way. A way that only worked because the man was already dying!

Meng Yao had good reasons to kill his father. Arguably his being quicker off the mark and more proactive about it would have made things better for everyone. But no. He waited all that time, until he could have just smothered the man with a pillow and gotten away with it, and then launched this elaborate punishment death for him.

For a man whose treatment of sex workers as disposable was one of the main crimes Meng Yao held against him.

The main irony is not at the old man's expense here dude, what are you doing.

All his other crimes were in service of something! Even if it was something fucked-up and/or lame and awful and clearly not worth it, he had a goal he was working toward and in some cases probably really was telling himself he had no choice--I don't think that's an excuse you'd proffer quite that incessantly if you hadn't been using it internally.

But killing Jin Guangshan like that--that was just for his own satisfaction. Using those women up so he could pointlessly enjoy it.

So then when Nie Huaisang chooses to kill Meng Yao by abusing Lan Xichen's trust--equally, he didn't have to do that.

Meng Yao was exposed and injured and outnumbered and alone. Even if they'd all walked away right then he was likely to die, from blood loss or infection or being caught by the cultivation world and strung up like Mussolini.

Of course, after all this trouble Nie Huaisang would want to be sure. That's why he inserted himself into the scene at all, I'm sure; he probably wanted to see it play out but he definitely wanted to make sure the revenge landed. Of course he wasn't going to risk handing his target over to justice and risking him talking his way out after all, or slipping away and moving to Japan. (Side note: I think it's very funny jgy suggested 'I'll move to Japan' as an acceptable alternative to 'I'll die.')

Nie Huaisang isn't a strong fighter, but Jin Guangyao isn't all that powerful either, as these things go, and he's down an arm and demoralized. Nie Huaisang could definitely have insisted on having him tied up, if he thought he needed the extra edge, created a distraction, and choked his enemy to death with his bare hands, if he'd wanted to. He could have sent an assassin into his cell if the man was sentenced to imprisonment.

He had a lot of options, is my point.

But he didn't do those things. Instead, he used Lan Xichen.

He used Lan Xichen exactly the same way Jin Guangyao had, abused his trust and love to manipulate him into being the instrument of killing his own sworn brother. If Lan Xichen wasn't broken already, Nie Huaisang ensured it, and he damn well knew what he was doing.

A friend of mine argues he did it because it would hurt Lan Xichen as well, as vengeance on him for being the instrument of Jin Guangyao's plot to kill Nie Mingjue. Idk if this is like, something that's outright stated in the text or just A Reasonable Interpretation, but it's not better that way--it's less careless, but it just even more emphasizes that he knew.

He knew who he was emulating.

And that's part of the point of interest to me because it's very clear that Huaisang does know who he's imitating, whose game he's choosing to play back at him. What he's choosing to become.

It's not so blatant in their both using Wei Wuxian because, firstly, he's the main character so we expect him to be at the center of things; secondly, everyone wants to use Wei Wuxian; thirdly, Nie Huaisang's schemes are comparatively beneficial to him.

Wei Wuxian himself has a marked tendency to reduce himself to his utility; it's easy to let it go, as a trespass against him, especially when it literally gives him another chance at life.

When you look at how they both reduced Lan Xichen to a piece in the game, though, leveraged his affection and his trust to make him into a murder weapon--then it stands out.

Obviously they're both schemers but that's just an archetype. Spy-versus-spy beat-them-at-their-own-game isn't inherently intimate like this, even when it's vengeance. Even when it's revenge on someone you used to trust.

And Nie Huaisang knows. I don't think Jin Guangyao ever did. I think he lies to himself a lot and in the end that's a significant element in his downfall, but also he just--doesn't perceive himself with any of the detachment he's able to turn on most of the world. I don't think he ever in his life noticed the ways he'd become his father.

But Huaisang sure as fuck knew what he'd decided to become.

Which is why that endscene tying up his plot thread focuses on his not wanting to be Chief Cultivator--he didn't do all this to get Jin Guangyao out of the way and replace him. He doesn't want to become the new metaplot villain, the way jgy replaced jgs who replaced wen ruohan.

So maybe things will be okay.

This relationship between Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao and how nhs' self-awareness of how he's committed to a form of villainy and chooses to restrain himself, which is what promises an end to the abuse cycle on the political stage, ties in really interestingly to some of the other stuff mxtx does with the concept of villainy but this post is already long enough.

#this may already have been discussed to death idk #but here's my thoughts #the untamed #mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #meta #hoc est meum #lan xichen

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 30

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 30 - This Venerable One Doesn't Want to Eat Tofu

"Hey, hey, did you hear? Elder Yuheng violated the sect rules. As punishment, he has to kneel in Yanluo Hall for three days."

In the morning class the next day, the disciples gathered on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to practice and meditate. In the end, they are all teenagers and 20-year-olds, and they couldn't just do as they were told. If a master wasn't paying attention, they'll start whispering and gossiping.

The news that Chu Wanning had been punished quickly spread.

The disciples who witnessed the beating yesterday were not shy about sharing the gossip with others.

"Wow, why are you guys finding out about it so late? Oh . . . So yesterday Elder Lucun took you up the mountain to collect night dew flowers? Well then - you guys really missed out on a lot! Yesterday evening, in the Qingtian Temple, there was flesh and blood flying everywhere. It was horrible. Elder Yuheng was beaten with more than two hundred strikes! More than two hundred strikes! Not a single one missed! There was no mercy!"

The disciple made a particularly exaggerated expression every time he said a new sentence. No need to mention the show he was putting on for all his junior brothers and sisters surrounding him.

"Do you actually count all two hundred strikes? Even a big man could be killed, not to mention Elder Yuheng. He couldn't stand it and passed out. This made our young master mad. He rushed in and fought with Elder Jielu. He said not to lay another finger on Elder Yuheng. Ah, that scene—"

His facial features were wrinkled up like a steamed bun. He squeezed his eyebrows. Finally, he stretched out a finger, swaying from side to side, and summed it up in three words:

"Tsk tsk task."

Immediately, a younger sister disciple paled: "What! Elder Yuheng fainted?"

"Young Master and Elder Jielu got into a fight?"

"It's no wonder I didn't see Elder Yuheng in this morning class . . . so pitiful . . . what crime did he commit?"

"I heard that he beat a civilian in a fit of rage."

". . ."

Such gossips drifted into Xue Meng's ears from time to time. Life-Death Peak's young master had completely inherited his shizun's temper, so he was very irritable. It was unfortunate that more than one person was gossiping about this. There were groups all over the Platform of Righteousness and Evil, all muttering "Elder Yuheng was punished" and so on. It made him feel so irritated, but there was nothing he could do.

In one corner was Xue Meng, veins bulging on his forehead, and in the other was Mo Ran, unable to stop yawning.

Xue Meng couldn't direct his anger anywhere else, so he viciously spat at Mo Ran: "The plan of the day relies on the morning. You dog, you're so lazy in the morning! What has Shizun been teaching you?"

"Huh?" Mo Ran said with sleepy eyes followed by another big yawn. "Xue Meng, that's enough. I can handle Shizun's lecturing. Who do you think you are? I'm your cousin. Behave yourself when you talk with your cousin. Don't be so rude."

Xue Meng said fiercely: "My cousin is a dog. Be whatever you want to be!"

Mo Ran laughed: "You're so mean. If you don't look out for your elder sect brother, think about how disappointed Shizun will be once he finds out."

"You still have the audacity to mention Shizun! Let me ask you, when he went to the Court of Discipline yesterday, why didn't you stop him?"

"MengMeng, he's a shizun. Yuheng of the Evening Sky, Beidou Immortal. What did you want me to do?"

Xue Meng was furious. He drew his sword, his sharp eyebrows furrowed angrily: "What the hell did you call me?!!!"

Mo Ran's grin stretched from ear to ear: "Be good, MengMeng. Sit down."

Xue Meng bellowed: "Mo Weiyu, I'll kill you!!"

Shi Mei was caught between the two, listening to their daily bickering. He couldn't help sighing. He silently held the edge of his forehead, trying to concentrate on reading his book: "The sun and the moon are poured in the pot* when the spiritual core is first formed. The way of heaven cannot be interpreted, and life and death are involved in the process. . ."

*(T/N: 日月壶中灌 - referring to the Daoist practice of leisurely inactiveness)

Three days passed in the blink of an eye and Chu Wanning's period of reflection came to an end.

According to the rules, the next thing he had to face was a three-month grounding period. During this period of time, he could not leave Life-Death Peak and needed to go to Mengpo Hall to do miscellaneous chores, clean the corridor pillars of Naihe Bridge, sweep the steps in front of the mountain gate, and so on.

Elder Jielu was anxious: "Elder Yuheng, to be honest, I don't think you should do these things. You are the best shizun of your generation. Doing this kind of dishwashing and floor cleaning . . . it feels wrong." He trailed off, leaving half the sentence unsaid --

The main reason is that the old man doubts whether you can even sweep floors, cook and wash clothes!

Chu Wanning didn't doubt himself at all and went to report to Mengpo Hall in an orderly manner.

All of Mengpo Hall, from the chief steward to the servant, was shocked to hear that Chu Waning was coming to do hard labour. They were terrified, as if they were approaching the enemy.

Chu Wanning, dressed in white, arrived in a flutter.

His handsome face was cold and calm, completely expressionless. If you added an auspicious cloud under his feet and a whisk between his arms, he would've looked like the picture-perfect immortal.

Manager Meng Potang felt very ashamed and uneasy. He was actually supposed to make such a beautiful man wash vegetables and cook.

Chu Wanning didn't have the self-image of being a beautiful man. He stepped into the kitchen and coldly swept his gaze over the crowd, who couldn't help but take a step back.

". . ." Chu Wanning was straightforward. "What should I do?"

The chief steward coyly pinched the edge of his hem and thought about what he should say. He cautiously went with: "How does this elder feel about washing vegetables?"

Chu Wanning said: "Okay."

The chief steward was greatly relieved. He originally thought that Chu Wanning led a very pampered life. He might be reluctant to do this kind of labour, however, all the other jobs were either dirty and tiring or required some skill. He was worried that Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to do a good job. Since Chu Wanning easily agreed to wash the vegetables, he didn't need to worry about it.

As it turns out, the chief steward was really naive.

There was a clear stream in front of Mengpo Hall. Chu Wanning went to the stream with a basket of green vegetables. He rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the vegetables.

This area is under the jurisdiction of Elder Xuanji. Occasionally a disciple of the Xuanji sect passed by. He saw Chu Wanning actually washing vegetables and was so scared that he couldn’t even get a word out. He rubbed his eyes three or four times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He said in astonishment: "Elder Yu-Yuheng -- good-good morning."

Chu Wanning raised his eyes: "Good morning."

Elder Xuanji's disciples shivered and fled.

". . ."

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk with them and continued with his business. He broke the leaves, washed them, and threw them back into the basket.

He washed them very carefully. He broke each vegetable leaf apart, repeatedly brushing them thoroughly. The consequence of that was -- come noon, the basket of vegetables still hadn't been washed.

The man waiting in the dining room was anxious, pacing around in circles: "What should we do? Why hasn't the elder come back yet? If he doesn't come back with the vegetables, how are we going to make the stir-fried beef and vegetables?"

The chief steward looked at the sun and said: "Forget it. Hurry, let's replace it with braised beef."

So, when Chu Wanning returned, Mengpo Hall had already served the beef. The stew was so crispy and flavourful that there was no need for vegetables at all. Chu Wanning frowned. He held his vegetables, rather unhappily, and coldly asked: "If you didn't want the vegetables, why did you make me wash them?"

The chief steward's hairs stood on end. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief and said something that he regretted: "That's not it. I was thinking you could make a pot of stewed tofu with vegetables?"

Chu Wanning had no expression. Still holding his vegetables, he tilted his head and pondered silently: ". . ."

The chief steward hurriedly said: "If you don't want to, that's alright--"

He hadn't even finished speaking before Chu Wanning asked: "Where is the tofu?"

Chief Steward: ". . ."

"Elder Yuheng, do you . . . know how to cook?"

Chu Wanning said: "I'm not completely ignorant. I'll give it a try."

At noon that day, all the disciples happily entered Mengpo Hall as usual in groups, looking for somewhere to sit. Then, they headed to the counter to get their food served.

There was no shortage of food on Life-Death Peak. The food had always been plentiful and today was no exception.

The braised beef was fatty and lean, the fish shreds were vibrant and rich, the farmhouse pork was golden and crispy, and the chopped pepper fish was red and tempting. The disciples rushed to grab their favourite foods, lining up around the hall, asking the chef to add a spoonful of sweet and sour pork ribs to them, pour some marinade on the rice, or add some spicy sauce.

The ones who always made it to the front of the line first were Elder Lucun's disciples. The little guy at the head of the line had a big pimple on his nose. All he had on his mind was some Mapo Tofu. He skillfully carried the wooden tray to the last counter without raising his eyes and said: "Shizun, I'd like a bowl of tofu."

The shizun, with pale, slender fingers, handed him a plate full of tofu.

However, it wasn't the Mapo Tofu he was familiar with. Instead, it was a plate of strange food with a charred black colour and indistinguishable ingredients.

The disciple was surprised: "What is that?"

"Tofu boiled with bok choy."

Mengpo Hall was full of people, so the disciple didn't pay attention to answering the other person's voice. He said angrily: "Are you an alchemist? Can you even call this tofu with vegetables? I don't want it. Take it back!"

While cursing, he glared at the shizun there. As a result, when he saw the person standing behind the counter, the disciple screamed in fright and almost knocked the tray over.

"Elder Yu-Yuheng!"

"Hmm."

The disciple was on the verge of tears: "No, that's not what I - I didn't mean that just now. I. . ."

"Since you're not eating it, I'll take it back." Chu Wanning said blankly, "Don't waste it."

The disciple stiffly picked up the plate, handed it to Chu Wanning then left with his tail between his legs.

In a short while, everyone knew that Elder Yuheng was standing at the last counter, so the originally lively Mengpo Hall was suddenly silent.

The disciples lined up like a pack of puppies, and they hurriedly grabbed their food, panicked. They went up to the last counter respectfully, greeted the elder, and stumbled away.

"Hello, Elder Yuheng."

"Mmm."

"Good day, Elder Yuheng."

"Good day."

"Elder Yuheng has worked really hard."

". . ."

The disciples were very disciplined and were acting with an abundance of caution, so Chu Wanning accepted the tense greetings from each disciple, but no one dared try his pot of boiled tofu with green vegetables.

Slowly, the line was getting shorter and the food in front of other shizuns was almost gone. Only Chu Wanning still had a pot full of food. The pot of vegetables was completely cold and untouched.

Chu Wanning's face didn't waver, but his heart was conflicted. He had washed them all morning. . .

At that point, his three disciples showed up. Xue Meng was still in silver-blue light armour, refreshing getup. He bounced over with excitement: "Shizun! How are you? Does your wound hurt?"

Chu Wanning was very calm: "It doesn't hurt."

Xue Meng: "Well, that's good."

Chu Wanning glanced at him and suddenly asked: "Do you eat tofu?"

Xue Meng: ". . ."

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

[favoniuscodex]

soft deception. [diluc x reader]

pairing: diluc x f!reader prompt: you love your boyfriend, you really do. he’s just so, so trusting in you that you can’t help but to trick him every now and then. (alternatively: you give diluc the world’s ugliest onesie as a christmas present and now that it’s all over, you want to go back in time and punch yourself in the face for unleashing this curse within your household.) word count: ~2.5k warnings/genres: humor, fluff, sfw but like... adult jokes at some points a/n: purely self indulgent, nobody requested this, tried out a bit of a different writing style. i wrote this to try to cheer myself up, so hopefully it makes you all happy! no beta reader though (but i never have one anyways)

You had a tendency to think of yourself as the funniest person in Teyvat at times.

Especially when you had Mondstadt’s most gullible eligible bachelor wrapped around your finger, desiring to cater to your every whim. Sure, the two of you were like two young teenagers in love despite being much older, to the point where it was a mental workout to restrain yourself from leaving purple and blue marks all along his neck, desiring to hear praises stutter on his lips as you show the man the love he has lacked over the years. It didn’t help that he also had those cherry-colored eyes that pierced into you, the only eyes to ever truly see you for you. In your humble opinion, the best part about Diluc Ragnvindr is neither his wisdom nor his love, but his ass.

Unsure if Barbatos is actually able to listen into your thoughts or not due to Venti’s uncanny capability to make jokes about thoughts you know you have never uttered aloud whenever Diluc turns his back to the two of you at the bar, you quickly rectify your thoughts and mumble an apology to the potentially omniscient alcoholic bard. 

The best part about Diluc Ragnvindr lies within his ass... umptions. His assumptions, specifically about the inherent truthfulness he believed to be in your statements. Your boyfriend, as much as you loved him, is an extremely gullible man. Such a fact is even written on the ceilings of every room, but it never hurts to double-check. If you are Teyvat’s jester, then Diluc is Teyvat’s fool, but he is a fool in love. 

The calculated, reserved man only lets himself be duped by you. No matter how many times you trick him, he’ll listen to your exaggerated claims and boisterous words with widened eyes, immediately trusting your words as he trusts you wholeheartedly.

You thrive in such an environment, manipulating Diluc to your liking. Not in a bad way of course, as the thought of hurting even a single hair on his head makes your stomach churn and nausea arise. Rather, you find amusement in tricking him with subtle sleights of the hand and little white lies, before revealing your cards at the end of every show and reveling in his flustered nature. You long not to hurt Diluc, but you relish in the way his milky skin turns to a rosy pink upon realizing your deception. 

In simpler terms, you love to prank your red-haired, stoic boyfriend in order to see the shy smile and bashful eyes that accompany his revelations of your actions. 

Being the funniest, sexiest woman in Teyvat with the most attractive, most trusting boyfriend in all of Mondstadt leads to raucous laughter on your behalf and flushed cheeks on your boyfriend’s behalf during many nights within your shared home. With Diluc’s confidence in you, you are unstoppable.

Such arrogance had a tendency to bite you in the ass. 

Especially now. Right now. You’ve never regretted duping Diluc more than you do at this moment. For Christmas, you had given him two presents, his actual present and one designed to be a joke. Diluc, bless his heart, had not interpreted such a present to be no more than a simple gag and had politely smiled at you as he held the gift up, inspecting it with poorly disguised distaste in his eyes. The gift in question was a pajama onesie you had found within the clearance section of some decaying Mondstadt boutique, but these weren’t just any pajamas. It was the ugliest piece of clothing you had ever seen.

The offending onesie glints in the light of the fireplace that illuminates Diluc’s face and your poor excuse at a poker face as he analyzes his gift. It is decorated with a variety of misshapen owls, feathers formed by multicolored, poorly sewn sequins. Each owl has two octagonal, almost glowing, gaudy amber-colored rhinestones for eyes, yet each rhinestone is a slightly different shade from the others, as if they had been left out in the sun, forgotten about. A santa hat is perched on the heads of each owl and a candy cane is loosely held in at least one wing of each owl. The onesie even has built-in feet, with owl-shaped grips on the bottom that barely cling on for life in a failed attempt to provide the user traction. Diluc quickly attaches to such a concept and tries to use it as an out.

“It’s… lovely,” He finally manages, doing his best to keep his voice even as he smiles at you. You can see the pain in his eyes. “But I do not believe the feet will fit me.”

You widen your eyes in sadness and bat your eyelashes at him innocently, as if such a sentiment truly wounded you. “Can you hire a tailor to fix them? I spent a lot of time picking out this gift and I think it’s perfect.”

Diluc’s smile breaks and horror creeps into his eyes upon realizing there’s no way out of the predicament he’s currently in. As he breaks his intense ogling of the onesie to look at you, his faux smile is plastered once again on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes and it wavers, but you simply give him a cheery grin in response.

“Of course, dear,” Diluc responds, albeit a bit despondently. Your heart twists a bit and- no, no. Guilt is not allowed in the heart of a true comedian. “Anything for you.” His eyes are empty as his smile slowly drops into a thin line. Your expression of glee is a sharp contrast.

“Yay!” You giggle and clap your hands together once as you pop up from your seated position. Diluc’s woeful expression alleviates upon seeing your seemingly genuine reaction and he manages a small smile once more, this one a bit more genuine. “C’mon! Let’s try it on!”

After wearing it the rest of Christmas night, Diluc not only wears it past the reasonable date to keep wearing Christmas merchandise after Christmas is over, but he wears it multiple times per week. You know he’s only doing it to see your fit of giggles every time he does so and that Diluc wants nothing more than to see you happy, but you’re beginning to hate yourself for such a gift. 

The inklings of self-hatred explode into full self-loathing when Diluc reveals he found an identical onesie while shopping and that he purchased it in order to be able to wear around the house more often. You have to hold yourself back from narrowing your eyes at him as he holds up the offending, nearly identical onesie, albeit in a different color. Unlike you, Diluc isn’t a bully. There’s absolutely no way he’s joking right now. Maybe. You aren’t sure.

The end of January rolls around and you’re ready to wrestle Diluc for his Pyro vision and burn these damn onesies yourself. Every time Diluc joins you in bed, ready to clock in for the night, he’s wearing the archonsforsaken Christmas outfit despite Valentine’s Day rapidly approaching. If you wear a cute outfit and lie on the bed, hoping for Diluc’s attention? You’ll certainly get it, but there’s more than just his eyes watching you. There are the artificial eyes of the owls watching the two of you, their beady little rhinestones judging you for your premarital sins. Whenever you reach out to stroke his arm or thigh reassuringly, you’re met with the feeling of cheap flannel and pilled fabrics.

Unfortunately for Diluc, Kaeya is your hero in this situation as he arrives to Dawn Winery unannounced and interrupts you and Diluc reading in bed together. The cavalry captain hadn’t even bothered to knock, swinging the door open with zero fear of what he might have found inside. But, upon seeing the two of you, Kaeya freezes.

“What the hell is that?” Kaeya nearly screeches in horror, pointing at Diluc.

“I’m sure you know what Diluc looks like, Kaeya,” You respond in an annoyed tone. You loved Adelinde, but why had she let Kaeya up to your and Diluc’s chambers without any warning is beyond your comprehension. “You only have one eyepatch, not two.”

Diluc does a poor job at stifling a chuckle next to you, his book now resting on the nightstand next to him due to the intrusion. He wordlessly sneaks an arm around your waist and you lean into his chest instinctively, trying your best to ignore the scratch of the sequins against your cheek.

“No, not that,” Kaeya says, unperturbed at your slight against him. “That! That thing he’s wearing! It’s awful!” His finger shakes in the air before the blue-haired man doubles over in laughter. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, holy shit.”

You look up at Diluc, who is flushed a deep crimson in embarrassment and whose brows are furrowed.

“I must admit,” Diluc clears his throat, voice diffident. “It has grown on me.”

Your heart melts at his confession and you scoot up a bit in his grasp, causing him to look at you in confusion before you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. Adoration swims in his irises as he looks at you and softly smiles, forgetting about Kaeya’s presence despite his brother’s noisy, ceaseless laughter. Sure, the onesie might be a joke that you want to throw into a fire and pray that it burns in the pits of hell for eternity, but Diluc’s defense of your present in the face of Kaeya’s mockery warms even your cold prankster heart.

“Diluc,” You whisper lowly, not wanting Kaeya to hear. It was unlikely he would anyways, as every time he looked up at the two of you in the bed in front of him, Kaeya would burst out into peals of laughter once more. “Where’s the other onesie?”

Diluc looks at you, confused. “It’s in the laundry room. It should be dry now.” Before Diluc can ask you why you need to know such information, you’re breaking free of his grip, stumbling out of the bed, shoving past Kaeya and nearly sprinting out of the room in a hurry. Kaeya and Diluc both watch you leave, equally bewildered.

“Why are you here?” You hear Diluc ask his brother as you flee the room, but you don’t stick around for the rest of their conversation. They can be emotionally constipated together, you have more important things to do. Seizing the freshly-cleaned onesie, you shut the laundry door and shimmy it over your current pajamas, one of Diluc’s old shirts and a pair of old shorts. You have to hop around a bit to get the fabric to settle in just the right places and, dear Barbatos, this thing is uncomfortable. 

Diluc must really love you to put up with this outfit every night. Before you can melt into a puddle of goo at the thought of your essentially perfect boyfriend who would do nearly anything for you, you storm out of the laundry room and back into the bedroom, climbing back into bed with Diluc wordlessly, settling your legs underneath the covers and guiding Diluc’s arm back to its rightful place around your waist.

You press another kiss to Diluc’s cheek as he stares at you with an unreadable expression. Despite having recovered from his earlier flustered state, his cheeks quickly return to the shade of red you adore so much. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t stick on this onesie just to shamelessly ogle your boyfriend and kiss him senseless. No, you wore it to spite the man in front of the two of you, whose expression is now morphed into one of horror.

“There’s two of them?! One was already a crime against humanity, but two?!” Kaeya is aghast at such a concept. Diluc’s gaze breaks off you and he tightens his grip around your waist as he glowers at his brother.

“We have a third one if you wish to continue intruding in our home,” Diluc proposes, his voice having a slight edge to it. Kaeya holds his hands up later.

“Alright. I’ll see you later then. Bye, (Y/N)~!” Kaeya quickly ejects himself from the conversation, not even bothering to spare his brother a goodbye in his hurry to leave before a onesie can be thrust upon you.

“You look adorable,” Diluc confesses before pressing a kiss to your forehead. This time, it’s your turn to fluster and you look away, startled by his forwardness. “I always like seeing you in my clothes.”

“Oh… thank you,” You murmur sheepishly, but Diluc grabs your chin and lightly guides your face to look at him. A shiteating grin breaks out across his face.

“I appreciate your support, darling, but isn’t it time we stop this ruse?” Diluc questions and your eyes widen in surprise. “Unfortunately, my brother is correct. These outfits are quite… awful.”

“I like them!” You interject, unsure as to why you’re defending the outfits you had just been wishing for the destruction of.

“Is that so?” Diluc challenges, eyebrows raised as you nod your head furiously. A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “(Y/N), I know I might be dumb at times, especially when it comes to you, but surely you can’t think I’m dumb enough to believe this lie.”

You narrow your eyes at him and fold your arms in contempt. “There is no way you’ve called my bluff this early. Kaeya told you I was fucking with you, didn’t he?”

Diluc’s smug attitude is replaced with that of a scolded puppy, unable to look you in the eyes. “... Yes.”

You can’t help but press yet another kiss to his face, this time gracing his jaw as you pepper light kisses down his neck. “You’re correct. I absolutely loathe these ugly clothes. It’s not even Christmas anymore. But I’d be damned if I was going to let that gremlin insult something of yours.”

Diluc laughs genuinely and he brings your face close to his, pressing your lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss, before pulling away far too soon for your liking.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I should probably change now that the joke is over,” Diluc explains. You raise your eyebrows at him and he lets out a sigh. “The fabric is itchy.” Your boyfriend clambers out of bed and you unabashedly watch him change into a more comfortable outfit, admiring the way his lithe muscles move as he puts on a new shirt. Diluc turns around and looks at you expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to change too?” He asks as he climbs back under the covers with you, but you softly smile and shake your head in response. 

“No,” You coo. “I think it’ll stay on for tonight.” You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling into his shoulder exaggeratedly.

Diluc groans at your words and you realize he shares the same hatred of the onesies that you do. But, as Diluc’s chief prankster, you’re determined to get the last laugh, even if the dumb fabric scratches against you all night.

#not sure how i feel about this one tbh! it's certainly a different style of writing i feel #but reader in this is extremely similar to my own personality (for once) #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #*writing #*diluc #*fic