#tb writes

[satelliteduster]

curious

#ok to tb #nocturnal writings

[mercymornsimpathizer]

tbh I think people deeply misunderstand the dynamic between harrow and ortus. imagine ur thirty years old working a minimum wage job and living in ur moms basement. ur manager is an overacheiving high schooler who knows the employee handbook by heart. like she will garnish ur wages if u don't upsell vigorously enough but also she needs a ride home because her learners permit says she's not allowed to drive past 8 pm. ortus nigenad is victim of the alienation of labor, send tweet.

#harrow nonagesimus #ortus nigenad #the locked tomb #etc etc etc #i think we all have a lot of sympathy for harrow bc she has truly gone thru hell #but also like. cmon guys. she also deliberately and conciously put everyone else thru hell and enjoyed it too #ortus simpathizer hours #also idk what has come over me but i have the nearly irressistable urge to write tbh as turburculosis h #get it cuz like tb #anyways.

[catoslvt]

Newt (TMR) x Reader

you confess to Newt as he's a crank.

this is probably gonna be very quick.

As Newt jumps on me, sending me spiralling backwards into the floor, I look over at Thomas, who is standing clueless

"Go get the cure! I can handle him!" I scream, Thomas gives me a concerned look before running off anyway.

My attention is suddenly grabbed again by Newt, who now has a knife. Where did he get it from? I've got no clue, but all that matters is getting it out of his hands.

"I don't want to hurt you." Newt snaps, his tone certainly sounding like someone who wants to hurt me.

"You don't need to, please." I beg, but his eyes have faded over again, and he lowers the knife to hover above where my heart is, but I quickly knock the knife from his grip, and it moves far away on the concrete meaning I'm now gonna need to fight Newt with my hands.

"Keep talking!" Newt screams, his eyes flashing only a slight bit of normality before the flare comes back over him, and he's trying to hit me, so I do what he told me to do, talk.

"I've been in love with you since the scorch trials." I say as my hand connects with his jaw, and he stumbles off me, allowing me to stand up, and as I look at Newt, I realise he landed beside the knife.

"What?" He chokes, and I nod tears at the brims of my eyes.

"When Aris led me to your rooms from the vents, I was terrified to meet you, but somehow, I managed to persuade you to leave WICKED and I fell inlove with you almost straight away, I've never looked back. I've never wanted any other boy the way I want you." I continue to talk as a few tears fall from my eyes, and Newt now stands up with the knife, his step staggering as he approaches me, but I suddenly see Thomas, Frypan, Minho and Gallys shadows about to turn round our corner, so I take a few footsteps towards Newt as he stands and stares, either fighting the flare really well or it's about to take over for good.

as I step closer, Newt opens his arms for a hug, and I can't help but do it, crank or not. I just confessed my love for him.

as he wraps my arms around my waist, I momentarily forget he has the knife until it gets plunged into my lower stomach before pulling out, and I step away with my mouth hanging open, clutching the knives enterance wound as blood pours from it.

"y/n!" I hear frypan scream, but it's too late, I've passed out.

I wake up in a small hut with a curtain as a door confused, where the fuck am I?

I quickly go to sit up, but I let out a huge groan as a pain shoots from my lower stomach, so I decide to take it slower and once I'm sitting up, I kick my legs off the bed and stand up, grabbing onto the wall for support before I slowly make my way out the room.

Okay, where the actual fuck am I.

there's tons of people here, mainly people my age or younger who are all walking around, there's huts, there's hammocks and there's even Gardens.

Gardens. Newt.

Newt.

the thought of his name brings a huge pain towards my stomach, and I groan and almost double over, but Aris sees me and rushes over.

"You're up!?" He exclaims and I nod confused.

"Where are we?" I ask, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry as though those three words took away all my willpower.

"The safe haven, a real one this time." He answers, gently grabbing my wrist as he begins to steer me to what seems like a kitchen, and when we walk in, frypan is cooking up dishes.

"Morning shuckface." He says with a small smile as he raises his eyes momentarily to fall onto me.

"How long have I been out for?" I ask and both Aris and Frypan shrug.

"A week or so? Newt got banned from your hut because he was constantly in there speaking to you, Vince thought he was gonna wake you up." Frypan answers, and my eyes almost bulge out my head

"Newt?" I gasp, and they both nod, confused.

"After you passed out, Thomas managed to give him the cure. It worked quite quickly, except there's still dark veins in places." Aris tells me before pointing over at Frypan.

"Can y/n get some water and a sandwich or something?" Aris asks, and Frypan nods, turning around and rummaging around in his make shift kitchen.

I sit alone at the edge of the beach, eating my sandwich and ever so often taking a few sips of water.

"How was the sleep?" The all too familiar voice of Newt asks with a slight laugh as he sits down beside me, but I don't turn to look at him, because the last time I saw him I confessed to him only to get a knife plunged into my stomach.

"Fine." I respond and listen, I'm not too pissed about the knife thing, I'm just scared in case he can remember what I told him.

"Nobody ever told me that turning into a Crank means getting memories back." He sighs, and I turn to look at him, Frypan was right, there is still some dark veins, but it's better than what he looked like as a crank.

"All of them?" I ask, and he nods.

"I remembered Sonya from your maze is my little sister, only her name was Elizabeth back then." He first of all starts, and I gasp slightly.

"I remember every shank from my Glade before we got sent up." He begins listing little things that must mean a lot to remember.

"I remember you." He then states, and I gasp a bit.

"we would've been held separately. How can you remember me?" I ask.

"Minho, Alby, Thomas, Teresa, and I used to all sneak into a maintenance closet somewhere in the WICKED building. One day, we walked in, and there you were, as innocent as ever eating a chocolate bar." Newt tells me and we both laugh slightly.

"From that day forward, you joined us every night in the closet, and I knew from the very first moment I saw you that I'd do whatever I could to protect you." He goes onto say before frowning.

"But I couldn't. You told me you loved me, and i stabbed you." He mutters, and my eyes widen.

for fuck sake did he need to keep those memories?

"we don't need to talk about that Newt, you got the cure, and you're fine, and my stomach is healing. It wasn't your fault." I say as I reach one of my hands over and grab his hand with mine giving it a small squeeze which he returns.

"I tried so hard to fight the flare, even momentarily to tell you that I love you too, tell you that from that closet I knew it was always gonna be you." He tells me, and I look into his eyes, really confused, what did he just say.

he loves me too?

he's joking.

he has to be.

maybe he still has the flare.

"What?" I finally ask, and he nods.

"I love you y/n, I always have." He states, and I smile widely.

"I love you too!" I exclaim, and he kisses me, being gentle with the movements to not hurt my stomach.

#fanfic #fiction #romance #writing #wattpad #tmr #tmr newt #newt tmr #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #newt x reader #the maze runner #scorch trials #death cure #the flare #crank palace #the fever code

[sailor-aviator]

Two Birds: Prologue

Two Birds: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)

Content Warnings: Talk of moving, Worried mom, Mentions of city, Overly enthusiastic roommate. There's not much to this, it's just the prologue lol

Word Count: 1.4k+

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tell-tale signs of a headache tugging at your temples. You reached your hands up to rub gently at them, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them to glance at your mother. Her eyes held nothing but worry and apprehension as she stared at you, her lips pressed into a firm line as her eyes ran over you, her fingertips twitching nervously on the counter in the kitchen.

You knew why she was worried, and you supposed any good mother would be. You had announced a couple of weeks before that you were intending on packing up and leaving for New York City. A change in your life was needed, a need for something bigger, and to you, New York held the answers. You had dreamed of the big city since you were small, having visited once when you seven and having been enamored with the bright lights and the way that something always seemed to be happening. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your small town life, but the predictable days and repeating patterns of the town you grew up in had long since played out. It was time to depart and spread your wings, time to grow and blossom into the person you were always meant to be.

“I’m sure, Mom,” you sighed, resigning yourself to the same conversation the two of you had had at last three times a week since you announced the plan for your move.

“It’s just,” she paused, moving to wipe down the counter for the third time in the last couple minutes, “you know I worry, and it’s so different from what you know. The city isn’t like what you’ve grown up with.”

“I know,” you muttered, hands gripping your glass of water tightly. “That’s kind of the point.”

“I want you to do what it is you need and want,” she continued, “but you’ll be all alone out there, sweetie. It’ll be hard for me or your father to come out and help you if you need it.”

“I know that too,” you replied, furrowing your brows, “but Mom, I really think this will be good for me. It’ll be good for me to try and be completely on my own, to experience the world as a full-fledged adult. Besides, if I fail, I can always come home, right?”

“Of course, honey,” your mother cooed, her face softening as she looked at you once more. “You can always come home. You know there’s always a place for you here.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you smiled, taking a sip of your water.

“It’s just,” it was your mother’s turn to sigh now, “does it have to be New York? Couldn’t you have picked somewhere like St.Louis?”

“St.Louis still feels kind of small town despite the size,” you reminded her. “I wanted a place that felt like a real city. Somewhere where the buildings reach up past the sky and somewhere that never sleeps.”

“You mean a place where crime is around every corner and people are just waiting to mug you,” she grumbled, not meeting your eye.

“St.Louis has a pretty high crime rate too,” you scoffed, smiling at the scowl she sent your way.

“I’m serious, honey,” she sighed, resting her hand on the counter in front of you. “New York isn’t like here. You need to make sure that you’re being careful, okay?”

You smiled at her, nodding slowly as her lips turned downward.

“Of course, Mom,” you assured her, taking her hand in yours. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

She gave you a doubtful look before turning towards the fridge off to the side, pulling it open and considering the contents inside.

“I’m thinking spaghetti for dinner,” she said finally, glancing over at where you still sat. “How’s that sound?”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, groaning internally and knowing that the conversation was over for now.

“Sounds great,” you replied, moving to stand, “how about I grab the noodles?”

A few weeks later and you found yourself departing from your home, only two suitcases full of your belongings that you couldn’t do without as you boarded the plane headed east. The flight was wholly uneventful, your music and audiobooks keeping you company as you tried not to think about the turbulence that shook the plane from time to time. Before you knew it, you had landed, catching your Uber as it pulled up to the curb.

You watched with fascination as the city lights grew bigger and brighter the closer you got, the throngs of people slowing traffic, but you were too excited to pay it much mind. Your head raced with the thoughts of what your new life would be like, the promise of adventure tugging at your heart as your eyes darted all about.

“You ever been to the city?” Your driver asked, eyes glued to the road as he turned down one of the many streets.

“Once,” you replied, face all but pressed up against the car window. The man chuckled as he pulled up to the curb in front of what you assumed to be your apartment building.

“Give it a couple of weeks,” he smiled, “you’ll be sick of it by then.”

You thanked the man, sliding out of the backseat and grabbing your suitcases from the trunk, waving at him as he pulled off for his next ride. You took a deep breath, walking up the stoop and finding the button for your new apartment. The buzzer sounded as you pressed the button, pulling your hand away as you waited.

The intercom crackled to life that sent your heart pattering in your chest.

“What?” Came the voice on the other end, the girl sounding somewhat put out.

“Uh, hi,” you breathed, shifting on your feet awkwardly. “I’m looking for Annie. She’s supposed to be my new roommate?”

A pause before the girl spoke your name in a question through the speaker.

“That’s me!” You chirped.

“Come on up!”

The buzzer sounded once more along with the click of the lock on the front door, and you swiftly pushed inside. The elevator rumbled its way down to you, and you eyed it warily as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The box clunked rhythmically as it pulled you up to the designated floor, doors opening to an unassuming hallway. You walked slowly down the plain hall, your suitcases clattering alongside you as you stopped in front of the door marked 35. You raised your hand and gave three knocks, standing back on your heels as you waited.

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a very pretty brunette smiling at you.

“Hey, babe!” She grinned, pulling you inside. You stumbled forward with a huff, turning just as Annie closed and locked the door behind you. She turned back to look at you, the smile still plastered to her face as she practically vibrated with excitement.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she walked past you to pick up a shirt that hung over the couch, “I forgot you were coming today. I’m Annie.”

She stuck out her hand for you to shake, and you took it, repeating your name with a shy smile.

“Look at you, you little country mouse,” Annie gushed as she led you further into the apartment. “You’re just a sweet, little thing, huh? Don’t you worry, I’ll show you the way around the city. You’ll be a pro in no time! Meantime, why don’t you go get settled? Your room is just through there and I’m across the hall, yeah? You hungry? I can order us some take in. Chinese sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” you breathed, a little overwhelmed by your roommates zealousness. She seemed nice enough, but she was certainly a lot more than you were accustomed to.

“I know this place that has the best dumplings. Once you try one, you won’t ever want another, I’m telling you! Go on! Go put your bags up! Get changed! We have all night to get acquainted. I’ve been dying to speak to you face to face, Mouse.”

“Mouse?” You asked her, arching a brow at her. She grinned at you, waggling her own eyebrows as she did.

“Yeah, you know,” she waved her hand, “like that old story or whatever. Country mouse and city mouse.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, shaking your head in bemusement at your new roommate. Her grin grew wider as she grabbed her phone to place the order.

“You and I are going to be good friends, I guarantee it, Mouse,” she declared.

You had a feeling that she was right.

A/N: Here it is! I've been too excited to not write it, so I'm posting ahead of schedule as it were lol Here is the first fic of my summer lineup! As always, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

#two birds #tb #mafia!au #mafia au #liz writes #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you

[azu1as]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

#cmun: you didn't invite me to your wedding??!?!?!?!? #cm: we literally just a signed a paper and kissed #cm and tb eloped because cm didn't want to stretch out mount hua's resources during a war bc of wedding prep #tb and cm are too in love and just decided to get married in the middle of a drinking session actually #they only realized what they did when they woke up the next day but then 'hm? this isn't bad tho?' #anyway cmun asks them to redo their marriage lol he def cries when cmyung bows to him in lieu during the three bows #the tang and mount hua come to an agreement that they get half a year each 👍 #and if tang bo still dies in this au and cm is left a widower......jk jk but then again #»—————————–✄ #sorry this took me a while 🥺🙏 irl wasn't kicking it HAHAHAHA #I'm super happy to hear you enjoy my writing and thank you so much for the prompt WAHAHAHAHA #i havent finished reading the side stories yet so sorry if I messed up canon #might come back to this prompt if I find out more info bc there's so much to explore 🙈 #and i had to stop bc this was already 1.1k HAHAHAHA #tangchung #chung myung #chung mun #tang bo #rotmhs #rotbb #return of mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #tin writes #my ask hole #w-s-kibela

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Hey TBskyen, what's your opinion on AI taking over, or at least really hurting the creative field. Like say taking over writing, art etc etc.

Sorry if this was asked before, AI just makes me wary of my own aspirations as a writer cause if an ai can just do what I do a lot better and faster is there a point in trying to publish that work?

What AI art and writing is a threat to is your professional career first and foremost. It is automation, and the function of automation is to drive down labor costs and outcompete artisans by sheer volume. I can't promise you that you'll be able to earn a living from writing in the future, this technology could genuinely destroy the commercial market, but if your worry is that the AI is going to simply be better than you, then let me put your fears to rest.

The AI cannot and will never be better than you.

These machine learning algorithms (which are not actually even AI, I should say), can only ever do one thing, which is reproduce the data that is fed into them. They can mix and remix that data in a hundred billion different configurations according to whatever parameters are specified, but they can't actually create anything.

Algorithms have nothing to add, they don't invent anything. They have no experience, they have no perspective, they have no intent. Algorithms will never write a story to express anything, they'll only reassemble parts of other stories to fit a desired output.

This is not to say that algorithm art won't pass the Turing test, that's a fairly low bar, just that fundamentally, algorithms will never, ever generate something that is of higher quality than what's fed into them. And they will never invent anything new, or add anything to the conversation.

Something which is true and will remain true forever is that somewhere out there, there is someone who needs the thing that you create. And they need that thing from you, in your voice, from your perspective and informed by your experiences. This isn't poetic fancy, this is observed experience. Humans tell stories and create art because we fucking need to. And we need these things to connect with one another.

That is always going to matter.

You might only have an audience of one. You might never make any money doing it. You might not even be alive when the person who needs your work finally finds it, or if shit goes really bad, it might be lost to time and they never find it.

But it fucking matters that you tried. Algorithm art is the mechanisms of capital trying to suck the soul out of one of the few areas of human existence that they haven't managed to drain completely yet, and to keep writing and creating while under this assault is a form of resistance that we sorely need.

#ai art #ai art discourse #ai art debate #chatgpt #gpt3 #machine learning #writing #art #poetry #tb answer

[stargirlfics]

The Gentleman Fic Series Masterlist

an Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader story

Series Summary: Two chance encounters turn into something quite unexpected the longer you spend around a certain Englishman

Series Warnings: 18+ ONLY, set after the events of The Batman film, age gap - reader is mid/late 20’s or 30’s (up to your preference), mentions of stalking/being followed, canon typical violence, death, protective!Alfred, fluff + angst, smut: PiV, oral (both receiving), light bondage later in series, Alfred is a soft dom in this! Light impact play, light choking kink and daddy kink later in series

*reader is written as and described as black in this but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

[Series Playlist]

Chapter One - The Gentleman

Chapter Two - Sugar Plum

Chapter Three - After Hours

Chapter Four - Do I Wanna Know?

Chapter Five - Éclosion

Chapter Six - Tremble

Chapter Seven - This Heart of Mine — coming 5/27!

#amalia writes #the batman!alfred pennyworth #the batman 2022 #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x woc #alfred pennyworth smut #alfred pennyworth fluff #tb!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth imagine #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth x fem!reader #alfred pennyworth angst #alfred pennyworth fanfic #alfred pennyworth

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕣 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴇʟʟᴀ ᴀᴅʜᴅ (ɪᴍ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ꜰʀꜰʀ)

⋆ ★ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴀꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ 24/7 ꜱᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ? ᴍᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ʙᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ!

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Tech is a hardcore nail-biter. 

A fiddler too.

If his other hand isn't preoccupied while one curls around his datapad or the wheel of the ship, it's by his mouth, absentmindedly tearing at his nails and the skin surrounding it.

The habit isn't due to anxiety; perhaps it did come to be from it when he was a young cadet still trying to navigate his role and purpose as a defective clone, but now it is just a simple habit he isn’t able to break.

You fuss about it all the time, the second you see him raise his fingers to his lips you slap them away.

“What was that for?” He asks softly yet critically. 

You click your tongue, flashing him a look of mutual understanding, but he still feigns confusion. You roll your eyes.

“You know damn well it’s bad for you,” you say. “You gotta break this habit."

He turns away, looking down at his datapad again, and responds rather nonchalantly,

“What else am I supposed to do while I work?”

You pout, shrugging as you lean in closer to his side where you both lie on the couch.

“I can get you some sort of toy to fiddle with. One of those little stress balls, magnets…”

“Hm…” Tech hums, interrupting your train of thought. You gaze up at him in curiosity; his eyes still haven't strayed from his datapad. “Perhaps you could be my fiddle toy," he continues.

You're almost completely taken aback; your eyebrows raise and smile bewildered. What does he even mean by that?

“What?” You say under your breath.

“Here,” He says.

Quickly, the hand not holding his datapad wraps around your wrist, gently holding it up. While he’s still completely transfixed on whatever was so fascinating to him on the blue screen, you watch as he maneuvers the two of your hands around until they interlock softly.

"Like this," Tech tells you. His finger grazes offer the soft skin of your knuckles, softly rubbing patterns over it. Your heart swells and you lean into him closer, squirming in your spot ever-so-slightly as you're unable to contain your giddiness; you can't take your eyes off of the view. You really do have the cutest boyfriend.

"Now, is this more suitable?" He then asks you. You giggle into his solid arm and lower your hand to rest on your lap. As his head finally turns to look in your direction, you lean up and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, biting back a grin.

"Definitely."

tags: @pb-jellybeans

#nour writes stuff #the bad batch #tbb #tech tbb #tbb tech #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #the bad batch headcannons #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch tech #clone force 99 #tech bad batch #autistic tech!! #tech has adhd #tb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb season 2 #tbb season 2 spoilers #tbb omega #sw tbb #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the bad batch fanfiction #clone trooper tech #tech the bad batch

[jackalope-with-a-pen]

guess who forgot about this blog again? 🙈

anyway I finally have a fic on my ao3 now...

it is not any of the fics I've been working on and talking about here, lmao, it's something else:

PULP MUSICALS FIC, BABEY!!!!

here's a summary that my friend @snarky-wallflower helped me come up with:

Benjamin usually thinks of the Stratfords and their stories whenever he sees the moon. ... It’s only now, standing in a brick room with Margaret in his arms and looking out at that odd rock—closer than ever and still so far away—that he suddenly becomes fully aware of just how much space Margaret has started to occupy in his mind. These last few weeks, he hasn’t been able to catch even a brief glance at the moon without thinking of her, too, and wondering if she would be watching it that night, if she’d get her answers this time.

OR

In those final hours aboard the brick satellite, Benjamin Park makes amends and falls into the orbit of Samuel Stratford and Margaret Cavendish, fast and bright. (aka, a Benjamin Comes Along AU with a twist!)

#jackalope with a pen #fan fiction #writing #creative writing #fanfic #writers on tumblr #pulp musicals #pulp musicals fanfic #the brick satellite #tbs #pulp musicals tbs #the brick satellite fanfic #benjamin park #samuel stratford #margaret cavendish #smudged ink #radiant words #trust fall #radiant sunsets #if this is truly the end (radiant sunsets)

[maxybabyy]

The sheets are cold when Daniel wakes, and Max is nowhere to be seen.

Dawn’s about to break, but the streets of Paris are still alight; loud and bountiful as people make their way back home. He’s only been here for a handful of months, but Paris is already so much different than back home. Daniel doesn’t know how he lived without it.

When he finds Max, he’s outside on the balcony, dressed in his robe from the night before, soft white stark even against his pale skin.

Before, Daniel had stared at the elephant in awe. The impressive architecture and intricate decorations. Had wondered what it would be like to live there, a place fit for a prince. Now he knows better.

“You’re gonna get a cold out here,” he says, wraps his arms around Max’s waist. He kisses his shoulder, drags his lips over the knobs of his spine until he reaches the lock of his necklace, the pendant enormous as it lies in the hollow of his neck.

It’s a recent addition, a gift from the duke. Awful and gauche in taste, but worth more than anything Daniel’s ever owned. Less than Max deserves, but still more than he could ever dream of giving him.

Max shivers in his arms, his entire body tense against his. Not unlike how he had been when they first met.

Well – not, not the very first time, Daniel thinks.

“Enchante,” Daniel had said in broken French and kissed his hand. Max wide-eyed and sweaty straight after a show. Max had been keen then. Even as he had thought Daniel was the duke, part of him had wanted it too. Max had told him so, after. When the truth had come out.

That Daniel wasn’t a duke, but another one of Charles’ idealistic friends who believed in love before everything else. In song and poetry, in creativity and feeling.

Max had been mad then. Furious and mad, embarrassed that he had let Daniel into his bed so easily. So used to the give and take, that Daniel’s adoration hadn’t felt like it was enough. But it was, is enough, Daniel knows now.

“Christian came by,” Max says, his voice hoarse. It could be the cold, the nipping wind that has come with the turn of fall, but Daniel thinks he must have been crying too. “After – when the show ended, after he came by.”

“Yeah?” Daniel says, cautious. His hands tighten on Max’s hips, the bones jutted out awkwardly where they used to be soft. He’s getting too thin, Daniel thinks. If it’s not a show, he’s at rehearsal – Charles relentless in his vision of the perfect play. “What did he want then? Had another brilliant idea, did he?”

Max breathes out, steady and quiet. Daniel feels how his chest expands with the motion, how he trembles as the air leaves him.

“He came to say the duke could not come, that he was busy with business,” Max tells him, steadfast. “That he would see me tonight instead. He left me another present also. But this I don’t care about.”

Daniel frowns. “Why is this –“

Max doesn’t care much for the duke. Christian needs him to keep the theatre in business, Max needs Christian, so Max keeps the duke happy.

Daniel doesn’t like to imagine how it works. He knows Max has sex with the duke when he isn’t with him, that he’s supposed to only be with the duke and no one else, that Christian promised it would be as such. Daniel doesn’t care about that. But Max –

Max doesn’t lie. His heart lives on his sleeve, and his mouth doesn’t ever stay shut, even when it should. But still the duke doesn’t know, believes Max to be as infatuated with him as he is with Max.

“That’s a good thing, no?” He asks.

Max turns in his arms, leans against the railing. It puts another inch of space between them, and Daniel already hates it, braces himself for what Max will say next. “Daniel, if he had come, if Christian had not come here instead, he would of course have seen you,” Max says, tugs the robe tighter around him.

“I would have –“ Daniel says in a rush, pushes closer to Max. “We would have heard him, Maxy. I would have slipped out before –“ But Max twists away from him and escapes inside.

“Always you sleep like the dead, Daniel.” Max snarls. His head is in his hands, but Daniel hears him clearly. “Charles was here last week to work on the finale, and still you slept! You would not have woken, and we would have been caught. He would know that I am with you also, that you have my heart.”

“But he didn’t,” Daniel says and gives chases, quick to follow in Max’s steps. “He didn’t come, and he doesn’t know, won’t ever know. I promise you, Max.”

Max shakes his head, “We have to stop. He cannot know, Daniel.”

“We cannot stop, please Maxy. I love –“

Max sucks in a breath. There’s fucking murder in his eyes as he glares at him, and if Daniel was any less of a man, his mouth would stay shut. But he isn’t, cannot be if he wants to be with Max.

“I love you, Max.” He says again, reaches for Max, and this time Max lets him hold him. “I love you. Don’t let him change that.”

They’ve been here before, Max with one foot out of the door. But Daniel loves him enough to keep pulling him back in, to make sure he knows there is nothing he wants more than Max’s love. That all this would be for nought if Max turned him away now.

“He will of course never stop,” Max says, miserable.

“And neither will I,” Daniel says and leans in for a kiss. “I will write you a million love songs, so even if – if he takes you away from me, you will always know how I feel. How I love you, Max.”

“Daniel, don’t –“ But it’s Daniel’s turn to shake his head.

“Just promise me that you will always love me, that’s all I ask,” Daniel says, begs of him. “Everything else, we can figure out. But this, please, Max. Promise me.”

“I do, I of course do,” Max says, kisses him desperately. “I love you too, Daniel.”

And that is enough for now, it has to be, he knows.

#maxiel #maxiel fic #i saw moulin rouge live and haven't stopped thinking about this au #another draft had girl!max but I didn't think it needed it :/ #you decide if max is d*ing from TB or they escape to the french countryside #i'm supposed to work on my ot3 draft but here we are ... #my writing #my fic #fic #moulin rouge au

[lovl3igh]

the way some of tg says tb is boring cause they're loving perfect family who don't do anything interesting while greens is just better cause they're bunch of criminals but the moment anyone from tb commits any crime y'all like nope, i draw a line here, you're an awful person, nothing can excuse you and give a list of all terrible things tb did... as if seconds ago you didn't say they're "so perfect" and you prefer interesting flawed characters of team green who actually do something

#and the fact you can say in one moment that tb is boring loving family #and in the next that they're dysfunctional unlike tg #please 😭 #just pick one scenario at least #ofc tb isn't completaly functional as family #but still much better than tg #also i'm tired of constant need of writing “some of” #if i say tg or tb or people or fandom or anything #it doesn't automatically mean i address everyone #if you don't do things i'm writing about it's clearly not for you #move on #i don't need your “well actually not everyone do that 🤓☝️” #no shit sherlock #team green #anti team green #anti hotd fandom #hotd #house of the dragon #targaryen #team black #targaryen family #anti green stans

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ꒱ 손영재

summary : you broke with eric a long time ago, and you thought you were over him until you saw him with another girl

genre : angst, eric x afab!reader, non-idol!au, bestfreind!chanhee, for plot purposes everyone mentioned is around the same ages of 23-25 tws : language, mentions of sex, depressive episode author notes : no happy endings with me ♡ word count : 2.3k

“chanhee, i didn’t even want to come.”

“well, neither did i, y/n, but kevin said he’d send his attack-snake out on me. and i don’t want to find out what that even means.”

“huh,” you said, shoulders motioning with your voice, “kinky.”

"of course you'd think that," your best friend of a couple years (but felt like a million, in a good way) started, rolling his sharp eyes, "you haven't fucked in —"

"alright!" you stopped him, taking the creese of his elbow, "i get it, i'm lonely. damn, what about you though, king? when was your last relationship? because if i'm remembering correctly, it ended before eri —"

"y/n!" running up to the pair of you was the host, a bright and inviting smile plastering his face. although, you weren't sure why you kept walking around like a knife was lodged between your shoulder blades still. "i'm so glad you could make it!" because the moment you saw a familiar stranger, a brunette clinging to his strong arm with a green cocktail between her manicured fingers, your heart suddenly was on the floor.

you don't know why the scene of the liquid covering her perfectly blown-out hair flashed through your head. or why you could imagine the little christmas tree decoration in it scratching the top of her mouth until it stung when she would talk. you could hear her musically-tuned laugh ring through the air at a joke you couldn't imagine was that funny.

"what the hell am i, chopped liver?" chanhee joked, oblivious to what you spaced out on, "you only wanted me to come because you knew i'd bring along my emotional support fish."

it seemed you were always on a one-way street you just couldn't turn off of, because no matter how many potholes you hit, you keep driving; and if your tires popped, you weren't sure the car would stop.

you shouldn't be allowed to be appalled by the sight of your ex having moved on, simply because you broke it off when he wanted to make it work. you dropped his heart when he let you hold it. and when he should've played his cards close to his chest, he let you join his team just to fold. you were making the ship sink, so how could you have the audacity to be mad when he jumped from it while you went down?

he loved you, but at the time you weren't sure what you wanted. sure, you blamed it on being 19, but it was because you were scared to commit to someone so committed to you. you didn't want to be, selfishly, tied down to one person — and now that you've purged it from you system, you, selfishly, wanted the same commitment he had given you 5 years ago.

now you stood in the foyer, two different faces from those kids, attached to another man, thinking about if he looked over, would he get the wrong idea? would it make him as jealous as you felt?

you've loved, had loss and even forgot it. but faced with the void you could never fill was more debilitating than you cared to admit. you wanted to be two ‘i miss you's’ that just needed a push, but evidently only one of you felt that way, as the other was happily coupled up during cuffing season. but then again, you had no right after half a decade to think like that.

you just had to be brave and pretend like it doesn't bother you. you can do that. you can do a lot... right?

chanhee rammed into your side, his desperate attempt to get you back down on earth, instead of inside your never-not-on brain. "did you even hear what kevin just said?" he asked, and you looked to said man, "he said the bands getting back together." your bestfriend made a joke, which did cause you to loosen up and laugh. you thought that as long as he was there, you'd inevitably be okay.

"well not exactly, a couple people couldn't make it — which is fine, but most of our old friend group is here." kevin explained, lacing your free arm with his so you were sandwiched between the two of them. "it seems like you and chanhee were the only ones who really hung out like we all used to."

you reminisced the old times for a second. you remembered when your name was connected with eric's, when you hung out like old times with them and him. you remembered the stupid parties kevin's frat would throw freshman year, that eric would drag you to, just for you and him to have a great time. you remembered when you'd have quiet study sessions with jacob and younghoon in the school's library, or juhaknyeon and sunwoo's soccer games. it made you feel a little messy, because after you and him broke up, it's like you broke up with them all. you habitually stopped hanging out, only being dragged by chanhee who was attached to you since first introduction.

you actually owe your level-headedness all to him. he's the person who convinced you that you didn't need to have a run-of-the-mill to finally find something good. he's also unfortunately the reason you remember eric like it was yesterday, even if you don't front like it. you knew you had someone so devoted to you, yet you let him go and now you had the audacity to feel bad about it.

"well, is sunwoo coming?" you asked, which earned a nod from kevin, "and what about younghoon and juyeon?"

"juyeon got a girlfriend!" chanhee exclaimed excitedly, his voice lowering when sangyeon's attention was caught on the three of you, "like last month."

the oldest of your friend's face lit up, "y/n!" he said, making you force a smile though you were cringing; because just a couple feet away was the love of your adolescence, with the presumable love of his.

standing next to him was hyunjae, "how've you been, oh my gosh, it's been like years hasn't it?" you voiced, bringing him in for a hug, which he reciprocated before you moved to sangyeon to repeat the process. it had been years since you've last spoken to them other than a happy birthday or congratulations once in a blue moon — you honestly wouldn't be surprised if their numbers had changed and you'd been texting a random person.

"good, good," hyunjae replied, sipping a bright red cocktail, "i actually just finished my business degree, thinking of either opening my own or investing in some else's."

"and I just got engaged, though she wasn't able to make it here tonight — ceo stuff — she's getting ready to go international after fully getting elected as the heir."

you couldn't help but compare, sure you had your teaching license, but it wasn't as impressive as either one of them.

they were making it hard to believe that the world was spinning too fast, and that you weren't stuck watching the same film over and over again.

chanhee began talking in your place, forcing you down into the barstool between them all. kevin went over to younghoon and juyeon who had just made their way through the door: a synthetic blonde attached juyeon's arm.

"what's her name?" you blurted, the three boys looking down at you, "she's pretty."

hyunjae was nonchalant, pretending he didn't know exactly what you actually meant. however, sangyeon replied awkwardly, "w-who? kim minyeon? or jang nari?"

"juyeon's girlfriend, n-not eric's."

"o-oh! that's minyeon."

nari. the feminine name meaning lily; new beginnings and rebirth. just fucking perfect, wasn't it? pretty, perfect and delicate, just like the flower.

you sighed and excused yourself, disguising it as having to use the bathroom. in honesty, you weren't sure how much more torcher you could take, and it's barely been twenty minutes. you thought you'd be fine, as long as chanhee stayed by your side, but the longer you watched the pair through your peripherals, the more you just ached.

you cared more than you'd like to have admitted. and the worst part is you had no one to blame — to be mad at — because everyone had rightfully assumed you both were over it.

like you were supposed to be.

it was pathetic, the way you stared yourself down in the mirror. you found yourself resembling someone you've never met, or maybe someone you had just forgotten in all the growing pains. nevertheless, you found yourself disgusted by the fact that you were disgracing your mother's eyes, father's nose, and sister's cheekbones with the self-pity. there was nothing more selfish than crashing someone else's party with one of your own.

so you choked the tears back, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. you took a powder from the purse slung over your shoulder and fixed your creasing makeup. you reapplied a red lipstick, fixing your hair and outfit. you thought that if you couldn't have him, maybe you could make it wish he had you instead — god, you were letting the delusions look too good under the fluorescent light.

however, you stooped lower than throwing a pity party. you exited the bathroom with part of your dignity still intact, but the moment you sat against the plush-cushioned bench against the wall your phone was illuminated with pictures of the pretty brunette.

you couldn't get yourself to stop once you typed her name out. it's like you were boarding the gossip train all the way back in high school.

you scrolled like you were obsessed, brain blanking out everything around you. you saw her go through a cherry red hair phase sometime in 2022. you found out that her and eric had taken a vacation to hawaii back in 2021, multiple bikini pictures and perfectly sculpted bodies clinging together like models being the tell. you scrolled farther back, dead-set on finding the first picture she ever posted of him… that must've been close to when they met.

why do you even care? you know he was too caught up following you around like a puppy to even believe that he would entertain someone other than you. so, why were you obsessed? maybe you needed a reason to be mad at him. maybe you needed an excuse to shift the blame.

maybe it's everything you needed that he could live without —

"i didn't meet her that far back, y/n. we were still dating then."

your eyes shut, finger hitting the power button. you took a moment, hoping that it was just your cruel subconscious playing tricks with reality. "didn't think you'd cared that much," he took a seat on the complete opposite end of the bench, "it's been five years... and honestly i didn't think you cared back then either."

you were too embarrassed to say anything. and frankly, you didn't know what to reply with. i'm sorry? i did care about you, but just not enough? nothing seemed to suffice.

"i met nari at work. she treats me —"

your vision was blurring over, but you couldn't find the courage to get up and walk away. you were just so damn pathetic, weren't you? you just thought that everything in this world belonged to you, peaking your freshman year of college in comparison to the people who still innocently call you a friend.

"better?"

"different, y/n. she's different than you."

you sighed, "that doesn't make it bet — i mean, it doesn't matter, eric. i'm sorry, i was just curious after not seeing you for so long." your eyes opened, but the scene was blurred over, almost like it was torrentially pouring while driving late at night. there were questions flashing behind your eyelids every time you tried to blink the tears away. you thought that you couldn't stoop lower, but for the past couple minutes you've done nothing but prove it wrong. "i'm so-sorry, i'm just gonna go."

you got to your feet, but his voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

"w-why does it bother you so much?"

you honestly felt like your heart was re-shattering, joining the dust on the floor at your feet. you thought the question would join the heaps of pathetic things you've said and done tonight.

you turned around, phone clenched between your fist. eric was still sat, dark hair styled so nicely you almost thought that it wasn't him — but her — outfit a matching shade to the dress you saw hugging her figure gracefully.

"do you honestly think i didn't care about you?" you asked, to which he raised his head at an alarming pace, "it's true, i know i fucked it up, eric, okay? i know what i did to you and i'm sorry. i-i'm sorry i waited so long to tell you that." clearing the air didn't feel like closure at all. the tears in his eyes didn't feel like hatred at all. and maybe he didn't mean it. maybe he only told himself that because you did break his heart so bad, still holding pieces he's afraid he'll never get back. "you can think whatever you want, hate me even, but please don't think for a second i didn't love you back then. i was naive and made a mistake, but it's too late to take it back. believe me, i've thought about it. but i always fucking cared about you, okay?"

you found it oddly satisfying, though knowing in the back of your head that he would curse you for saying these things while he's happily coupled up, you didn't regret it.

"i'll forever be sorry, so don't hold it over my head."

"i believed you didn't care about me... back when we were nineteen." he replied after a long pause, "but i haven't believe that for a long time. y/n, i've forgiven you."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

#kpop #kpop requests #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpopidol #kpop bg #romance #the boyz #tbz #chanhee #eric sohn #son youngjae #tbs imagine #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz eric #sohn youngjae #angst with a happy ending #drabble #one shot #angst #tbz angst #sfw fanfic #sad ending

[thelaurenshippen]

Hi there! I started relistening to the bright sessions (as one does) and had a random question come up. When did you know that Mark/Sam wasn't going to be endgame (romantically)? I know in s4 they both fall apart separately and together, but even in Safehouse pt 2 (my absolute beloved) they argue about their coping mechanisms. Did you know then that they weren't going to end up together? How did you come to that conclusion?

hey!! this is a great question - I definitely did start the show thinking they were endgame and that's mostly what I was thinking at the time of safehouse too, despite their issues. I think it was really in writing Season 4 actually, when I realized that I was no longer telling a story about two people in love working through their issues, but was instead telling a story about two people who were in love but realized they shouldn't be together in that way. I started to feel those tension points in Season 3 (I would say the safehouse episodes were a true attempt for them to learn to work through their issues), but it wasn't until planning S4 that I really made the decision.

there are a lot of things that led to this that I'll try to articulate, because the honest, simplest answer as to why the plans changed was "because it felt like they should". but if I were think back and pinpoint a few reasons for that...

there was never supposed to be a love triangle. Mark was always bisexual but he and Damien were never supposed to develop feelings for one another. but the first time we got Andrew and Charlie into a room and read through their first episode together it was like "oh, OH-kay" (which, sidebar: clearly I was writing something between them subtextually because it wasn't like Andrew and Charlie were strangers to each other - I'd watched them act ALL sorts of scenes together in acting class but the romantic chemistry popped OUT with Mark/Damien. pretty much from the second motel episode on, I was writing leaning into that dynamic). that threw a lot of spanners into the works because while I never had plans to put Mark and Damien together, I hadn't anticipated Mark grappling with feelings for someone else.

similarly, I'd underestimated just how flawed Sam was. Sam is not a bad person, but she sometimes doesn't really know how to be a person who cares about other people. when you add that to the dynamics of Damien and Joan kind of, like, hovering over Mark in various unproductive ways (for Damien, it's destructive and invasive; for Joan, she's just a too-involved older sister sometimes), Sam becomes another person who is kind of, like...controlling Mark, or trying to, because she loves him and doesn't know how to (I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm just regurgitating actual lines I wrote lol). this is not to say that her flaws make her unable to be in a relationship (Mark is also deeply flawed!) but just that their flaws clashed against each other in ways I hadn't planned.

finally: Joan and found family. in my mind, there was something grand and romantic about Sam meeting Dr. Bright so that she could be led to Mark - like they were somehow always fated to meet. in actuality, it's not that at all - instead, the bond that Sam and Joan have is just as important as the one she has with Mark, albeit different. I don't believe in soulmates personally, but I've always liked the idea that you have people out there. soulmates in a more general sense - people you click with, have a connection with. it can be romantic, familial, friendship, work or creative partnerships, whatever. I think the Bryant siblings and Sam have that. I think Sam and Mark are meant for each other but in a non-exclusive way and in a...maybe not non-romantic way, but a way that doesn't have romance at the forefront. they love each other deeply and they fit, but a romantic partnership might not be the best way forward for them. and Joan and Sam are the whole heart of the show to me in some senses. as I was writing the finale, I very intentionally ended with the two of them - both because the final appearance of every character is in order of when they first appeared, but in reverse and also because the show starts with both of them in dark, destructive places and while there's broken trust between them throughout, they ultimately help each other get better. I thought Sam's story was about finding love and it was, but that love looked differently than I had planned.

okay, god, this has gotten waaaaaay too long and rambly. I hope this answers your question? one of my favorite things/the thing I miss most about making a show like TBS is being able to shift things based on chemistry/what the actors bring/etc. so often now, I'm writing entire seasons of things and then handing them off to production, in which anything can happen! the flexibility of recording episode by episode in TBS is something I took full advantage of.

thanks for listening and relistening!!

#the bright sessions #sam/mark #also in case anyone is curious as to why I DON'T do that anymore #don't write/record that way #the answer is money it's always money #we could do that in TBS because for the first two seasons no one was getting paid #and then from there ppl were getting paid but badly #and I was doing everything for free #so we didn't need efficiency of budget #whereas now I'm able to record a few episodes in a day #which is mUCH more budget efficient #ANYWAY #answering this question before I've finished my coffee on a monday morning was certainly a choice #I'm sorry if it is INCOHERENT #lauren answers things

[enihk-writes]

[at the end of a burnt wick]

pairing: tang bo x afab!she/her!reader

NOT exactly an x reader because i didn't want tang bo and reader's relationship to be romantic, tried to make them platonic / co-workers like ah-duo and the emperor from the apothecary diaries + implied tangchung because all roads lead to old men yaoi

summary: anthology of a married pair

content warning: archaic wedding practices mentioned (i.e. having to consummate a marriage against the will of both parties) // stillbirth and child loss (disconnect with traditional expectations of parenthood)

word count: 6.66k

author's note: my roman empire lately is about how i used to audition to nijisanji and only niji at least 3-4 times (didn't even pass the first stage lol) before i got really fixated with rotbb.... maybe one day i will try my hand at vtubing and streaming again... for now it's fanfiction time ragggghhh!!!!! fictional men 4ever!!!!

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

═══════════════

FIRST MEETING

the first time the young tang bo met her, was when he was a little over fifteen.

she was also just as young as he — a wee lass that had yet to lose the childlike roundness of her cheeks, round eyes that seemed to sparkle in wonderment at all the grandeur around her. tang bo didn't understand what was so special about the surroundings, he'd grown up here all his life and had already seen most of anything money could buy. this girl was weird.

he didn't find out until much later that this was the first time she had ever left the four walls of her room, much less her own home.

he thinks that it was no wonder she had looked so amazed with everything she saw back then. he can't imagine a life where he had to live constrained to one place, going through the same routine everyday would have bored him to death.

he wasn't looking forward to future conversations with that girl — he was certain she would be utterly dull and boring.

═══════════════

ENGAGEMENT

tang bo was furious that the elders had went and signed off the engagement contract without even asking for his approval. he had been meeting with countless hopefuls for a few years by now, and he'd been able to fend them all off by acting in ways that had all these well-bred ladies huffing and puffing in indignation. crying to their fathers that they would rather die than marry a man like he.

so who was it that agreed to this!

tang bo mutters under his breath, teeth gritted, fists clenched. he had to see with his own two eyes the woman who was stupid or desperate enough to let herself be wed to the likes of him.

elder!

the young man throws open the doors to the main hall, not caring one bit about the guests sitting inside. the elders and the patriarch in question frowned at his behaviour, biting their tongues from chastising him in front of strangers.

his gaze lands on a familiar face, a little older and a lot less naive, but familiar nonetheless. he didn't know that a person's demeanour could change so drastically in a few years.

tang bo's hands fall to his sides, he shuffles towards the end of the table, plopping down on the empty spot across his soon-to-be betrothed. he eyes her figure, chewing on the inside of his mouth, trying to come up with something to insult her with.

tang bo—

the patriarch didn't even get the chance to finish his sentence when the young man scoffs at the girl's face, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a sneer.

really? her?

tang bo glances over at the heads of his family, finger pointing rudely in the girl's face. they all sigh, knowing what was about to come from the impudent boy. they could only hope this girl wouldn't take his jabs to heart.

hey you.

he juts his chin at her.

all my other candidates looked prettier than you. hey, did you even bother to put in any effort when coming to meet me?

she ignored him, sipping on her tea serenely. the girl's guardians shift in their seats nervously. ah, this young master has yet to face their mistress' infamous anger.

tang bo clicks his tongue.

oi, did you even — hey!

he didn't expect her to splash the remainder of her drink onto him. the warm liquid splatters across his face and drips down his now damp hair, even the front of his robes were now soiled from the tea.

he looks over to the elders of his family in surprise, hoping that they'd stand up for him but none met his eye. he felt betrayed when he catches some of them trying to hide the twitch of their mouths suppressing their laughs.

they all thought that it was about time someone put this boy in his place, talented and intelligent as he may be.

needless to say, the rest of the meeting went on smoothly. and it ended with the confirmation of the two's engagement. much to tang bo's despair and the girl's indifference.

═══════════════

FIRST 'DATE'

he really tried his best to drag his feet that day. the elders had arranged for an evening dinner in the newly established inn downtown with his bride-to-be and tang bo really did not want to go. he was kicking up a fuss with his clothes, this one was too dull, that one is too bright, it's too rough, it's too short... and so on. but when he finally ran out of excuses and the attendants tiredly managed to dress him appropriately — the sun was beginning to set.

tang bo perks up. perhaps he didn't have to go out with her after all!

he steps out of his room, surprised to see that there was no one in the courtyard. he shouldn't have felt a jolt of worry then, but he did, and he wondered if something was wrong.

where is she?

he asks to no one in particular, heading to her room three doors down from his, footfalls heavy on the lacquered wooden planks of the corridor. he hears panicked voices muffled behind the doors and throws the doors to her room open.

she sat in the middle of the room in nothing but her undergarments, surrounded by the tang estate's maids and piles of unworn clothes. she had her back facing him, and all he could see were the maids hurriedly hiding away the containers of makeup all shying away from his scrutinising gaze.

out.

the maids didn't have to be told twice. they all scurried out of her room like mice, tails between their legs and faces pursed in anxiety at being caught in the middle of something they probably shouldn't be doing. tang bo sighed heavily. to think the woman he was to marry was getting bullied, by mere maids too? he felt ashamed on her behalf. he didn't like people who were fine with others taking advantage and stepping all over them. he hated that they didn't have a backbone to stand up for themselves.

kicking off his shoes, he entered her room — nose scrunched up instinctively at the suffocating dust in the air. he looked around to see all the windows shut tightly, there were no gaps for even a sliver of light to shine inside.

how has this girl been living so far, for her to be fine with this treatment?

tang bo coughed, stumbling over to open the windows, lightheaded from the lack of breathable air. he waves his hands to chase the dust outside, coughing even harder when the little particles get all up in his face.

he hears her giggle. much to his growing annoyance, what was so funny anyway.

he sits in front of her, letting the pile of unworn clothes cushion him from the hard floor. under the orange glow of the setting sun, he sees her for the first time today, all dolled up in the most garish makeup that would have certainly humiliated her, and had he not barged in she would have had to go around in public like that.

you look uglier today.

she chuckled and hummed in response, she looks around in search of something. grabbing a rag from under the clothes, she proceeded to wipe off her painted face, only to have tang bo take it out of her hands with a soft, let me.

he holds her chin between his fingers, rubbing off the white powder that contrasted starkly against her skin, making her look sickly. he rubs off the crudely drawn-out eyebrows and the thick rouge that sat on her lips. he can't help but notice the way her lashes fluttered as she tried to keep her eyes closed. maybe his fiancee was a little cute.

with her face now bare, the girl lets out the breath she had been holding. but tang bo wasn't done yet.

where are you facing. turn back here.

he ordered pointedly, and she couldn't help but to go back into her prior position. lips and eyes squeezed shut, much like a puppy getting told off for misbehaving.

picking up a brush out of the many lying haphazardly over the vanity, tang bo dipped it's tip into the little porcelain jar left ajar. it was lipstick in a shade deep red, the type that would have looked lovely especially on her.

he holds the girl's now bare face in one hand, the brush in the other, outlining the shape of her lips with the new rouge. the feathery touch of the brush tip was ticklish, moreso with how tang bo had been holding it in an uncharacteristically gentle way as though he were a potter painting intricate patterns on a cup before he sent it off to the burning fires in a kiln.

he pinched the brush, smudging the tint against his fingers and drawing faint circles at the outer corner of her eyes.

tang bo leans back to admire his handiwork. he couldn't help but feel proud of the results. not only was he good at martial arts and medicine, he had an amazing eye for aesthetics too? where would anyone find a better husband then he?

the girl opens her eyes cautiously, her gaze meeting his. he looked pleased, boastful even.

hmph. you look more presentable now.

he hands her a mirror, and as she looks at her reflection against the shiny bronze surface, she had to agree. her fiance had done a good job with her face. maybe he wasn't all that awful.

thank you, young master tang.

the girl smiled, her eyes crinkling upwards in a smile. tang bo scoffs and looks out the window, hiding his embarrassment at her sincere words. thinking back now, this was the first he'd heard her speak, wasn't it? maybe he should pay more attention once in a while.

heh. of course you should be thanking me.

the sky and grown dark. lucky him, he didn't have to go out to that dinner with her after all.

═══════════════

THE FIRST REAL DATE

tang bo felt a little irked that she had been walking behind him even when he had slowed down to match her pace. it's almost like she had been deliberately hanging back.

you.

he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards him. she stumbled over her feet and falls over with a startled squeak.

you're my fiancee. so stand proud and walk beside me.

he declares with a hand on his hip, the grip on her wrist with his other not once loosening. he walks again, just as slow as he had been earlier, feeling a little happy that the girl no longer lagged behind.

he'd started to warm up to her, no longer seeing her as the stranger living in his house, one day to become his wife. she was more akin to a little sister he'd have to babysit.

no, actually she was more like an apprehensive kitten left on his doorstep that he'd grown to like taking care of.

buying her sweets and spoiling her with accessories she might not even have a chance to wear just because he thought she'd look cute in them has been one of his favourite hobbies these days.

why was he so anxious about getting engaged before? ever since she became his fiancee, he didn't have to go out and meet with any more annoying noble ladies clamouring over each other trying to win over his affection. the best part was that she kept to herself, and minded her own business unless it was time to visit the elders and the patriarch for afternoon tea — which he didn't mind since having her as his own personal walking event reminder has really saved him from getting scolded even more by the old farts.

ah! look! they're selling meat skewers over there! come on, let's go get some! i'm sure you'd like those too.

tang bo giggles and drags the girl over to another street vendor. ah, lucky him. he's hit the jackpot with the whole engagement game — a tolerable and cute wife-to-be, could a boy ask for anything more? guanyin-ma really was looking over him after all.

═══════════════

FORTUNE TELLER

after two seasons of living under the same roof, the heads of the tang clan decide that it was time for the two to meet with the fortune teller. set up an auspicious date through the tung shing, and be wed on the right phase of the moon and the best placement of the stars in the sky.

the young master is lucky to have found someone this compatible. it is hard for children born in his year to find a suitable partner. they say snakes rarely get along with the other zodiacs.

says the old eccentric woman who proclaimed herself to be the best fortune teller in sichuan and the one who had been checking the birthdates of all the potential brides that had been introduced to tang bo thus far. the boy felt the urge to get up and fight that hack, respecting his elders be damned, so she was the one sending him all those insufferable girls his way.

he feels a hand grab at his arm. fingers digging into his flesh enough to keep him seated. he looks over at the girl sitting next to him, expression unchanging, her body angled to lean a little closer to his.

his hand reached over discreetly to peel her fingers off him, bringing her hand down to hold his under the table, fingers intertwined. she seemed to relax a little, tense shoulders falling ever gently, her jaw growing slightly more slack.

to the untrained eye, the girl's expressions were the same. but to him, he's watched her long enough, even if it wasn't every day, to spot the subtle changes whenever she expressed herself. tang bo pats himself on the back for being such an attentive fiance.

his attention shifted from the conversation between the fortune teller and the elders to the girl's hand. they were soft and smooth, as expected of a lady of noble birth. his on the other hand were calloused from training, the tips of his fingers were starting to turn darker from the constant exposure to poisons. shit, he might have to start wearing gloves.

the girl hadn't been paying attention to the conversation going on either, spacing out until the elders called on the two. stifling their startled gasp, the two youngins stared at their elders, a confused expression painted on their faces, not one bit guilty for ignoring everything that was being said.

ah, it's good they are getting along well.

the fortune teller chuckled with a knowing glint in her eye trying to suggest something, but both tang bo and the girl didn't seem to catch her drift, the old woman's point flying over their heads.

the elders soon turn back to their discussion, talking about the best days that would suit the two.

look here, since they are both born as snakes, their auspicious numbers are two, eight and nine. i'd suggest we hold the wedding...

tang bo nudges at the girl.

hey.

she looks up at him. he leaned down next to her ear, wanting to ask her about her birthday, too embarrassed to ask about it outright in front of the elders. he didn't want to seem like an incompetent fiance to his future bride.

she hides a growing grin. it was nice of him to start paying attention to her. little steps, little steps. she wriggles her hand out of his grasp and writes down the date with her finger on the surface of his palm.

good thing their hands were under the table, or people would know about the cause of the redness dusting the back of his ears.

the meeting dragged on until late in the evening. it ended with the agreement that they were to be wed on the eighth day of the eighth month on the eighth year of the emperor's reign.

truly the most auspicious day for a union.

═══════════════

A BRIDE-TO-BE'S DRESSING ROOM

the long-awaited day came by later than expected. the previous emperor passed before he even got close to the eighth year of his reign. not wanting to change the numbers of the date, the elders decided to push the event back until the current emperor had reached his eighth year.

by then, the two had grown into a man and a woman, a lot older than the common age to be wed. but it was no matter. who would dare speak up against the tang clan's young master and his wife-to-be?

the day, hell, even the night before had been hectic. tang bo slipped past his attendants to take a peak at what was going on in her room. traditions be damned, who cares about the groom not seeing his bride until they were at the altar? that was so outdated!

what are you doing here?

she had been left alone to rest from the non-stop preparations since before dawn. tang bo walks in, careful not to make too much noise as he slides the door shut behind him.

why? can't i visit my wife?

i am not your wife.

yet~

his teasing voice moved behind her. he picked up the brush to comb out the knots that were all tangled up — the maids had put on extensions to lengthen her hair. she hadn't been able to grow them to the expected length, much to the annoyance of the maids. they hadn't been nice when attaching the accessories, she could still feel the burning sensation on her scalp.

there was no need to kick up a fuss at this point. especially in front of tang bo. this guy would have kicked out all the attendants who had been treating her poorly, but that felt like too easy of a punishment. she wanted to deal with them herself when the time comes, sorry for that, young master tang.

the leather gloves he wore were cold, and the feeling of his fingertips scratching against her scalp was soothing, enough to draw out a quiet purr from the woman. much to her shocked embarassment.

oh?

she leans away from him.

...please ignore that.

but how could he?

my wife... how can you be so cute~!

i need you to shut up right now.

═══════════════

WORLD'S MOST BORING CEREMONY

if it was any consolation, the two had agreed that this whole affair was a pain in their ass.

wife, do you know when this will end?

what makes you think i have the answer to that?

tang bo thinks his bride was lucky to have that red veil over her face. if she wanted to shut her eyes and sleep, none of the guests nor elders would be any wiser. poor old him. they should have made a veil for the goom too, which smartass decided otherwise anyway? if he ever met that person, tang bo promised he would pummel the other to the ground.

wife.

she hums in acknowledgement, bowing her head at a guest who had come up to the front to pay their blessings to the pair.

wife.

tang bo called out again, his tone getting a little impatient. wincing when he felt her pinch the skin between his thumb and index finger. he tried to smile at the strangers passing them by, feeling drained and completely spent from the day's activities. it didn't help that the noisy chatter of everyone around them was making him feel worse.

wife, you should tell the elders that you're tired and want to rest for the night... i'm sure they'd listen to you.

why me? you go!

huh? me? nuh-uh, you go!

the back and forth lasted for a bit until they both agreed to ask the elders together. after all, having a partner-in-crime to take the fall together with you was way better than facing backlash alone.

perhaps the atmosphere of a wedding had put the elders in a carefree mood, perhaps it was the result of a dozen empty wine bottles. they think it might be both, but no matter, they received permission to get out of there.

the best news either had ever heard today.

scurring away quickly, the newlyweds giggle amongst each other like kids up to no good even as they were well into their twenties. the guests and elders cooed in amusement, talking about how nice it must be to be young and in love.

though that second part was so far from the truth, when the two talk about it again in their later years, it had grown into a funny story they liked to reminisce about over a midnight drink.

═══════════════

THE FIRST NIGHT

tang bo glanced over at his wife, carrying the same grimace as she did. it was hard not to cringe at the overtly crude decorations in their now shared room.

right. that was how it was in these parts. they were now husband and wife so the elders are probably expecting the results of the two carrying out their marital duties within the next year.

i don't want to do that...

me neither...

now sitting across each other on the floor, they discuss how to trick the maids who would certainly check the bedding the next morning. if nothing happened tonight then they would be under more scrutiny. but who's to say that there won't be any surveillance after? ugh! this was all so annoying!

tang bo watched as the woman before him let out a big sigh, dropping her head into her hands. he felt sorry for his wife, it must be hard living as the new daughter-in-law of his family.

should we get this done and over with?

he suggested finally, after exhausting all their options. his wife makes a face at that, but she can't argue.

awkwardly he hands over a vial, an all-purpose antidote of sorts, in case she gets accidentally poisoned while coming into contact with him. the head had passed it to him sometime during the ceremony earlier, tang bo had been hoping he didn't have to use it, at least he held himself back from throwing the whole vial at the wall when it was given.

he didn't say it at first, but he could hear the eyes and ears surrounding them grow careless every few moments, revealing their presence by accident with an unintentional movement or sound. how uncouth of them to be watching the two newlyweds like this. it seemed she'd also noticed their presence, with how she'd glance out the windows whenever a small rustle was heard.

i'm so sorry.

he murmured an apology as he kissed her cheek — he didn't have to look to know she had a faint look of disdain, directed to no one in particular yet still stung through his heart.

it's not your fault.

so she says. but it might as well be. to him at least.

the consummation wasn't a pleasant process. neither could look at the other in the eye. the knowledge that people were standing outside the room to listen in on the completion of their marriage made this whole ordeal so much worse.

wife...i...

tang bo feels his hips stutter, his face burns in shame as his hoarse voice tries to speak.

her hands reach out to brush his hair out of his face, fingertips lightly smooth out the crease of his furrowed brows. she'd resigned herself long ago, knowing this whole process was inevitable from the time she reached adolescence. to think her own husband did not...

she felt a slight twinge of pity. the young master tang was a lot more sheltered than she had thought.

when it was all over, they scrambled to get away from the other, each sitting at the furthest end of the bed — letting what had conspired sink in. how many more times would this have to happen in the future?

she was the first to collect herself. getting up, she shuffles over to tang bo, her hand reaching out for his.

my husband, we should go and clean up.

he nodded, taking her hand in his wordlessly as she led him to the tub hidden behind the partition. after dipping the dry towels in the now warm water to wipe their bodies clean, slipping into clean nightgowns and peeling off the soiled bedspreads to throw them aside, they finally crawl under the covers, yawning tiredly.

sleep came over easily, surprisingly enough.

═══════════════

DIAGNOSIS

the questions that hung around in the air at this time of the year were all about babies, children, the next generation. everyone wanted to know which of the wedded members would be expecting soon.

most eyes were turned on tang bo and his wife.

unfortunately.

their marriage had happened over five years ago, almost ten, and all this time their other relatives who had gotten married later than they were popping out one offspring after another — yet none were to be seen for the young lord and his lady. the elders often lamented on the silence of their side of the estate.

rumour has it that their relationship was on the rocks, with how neither shared a room nor did they spend a night together like all the tang spouses — save for the occasional times they'd go to visit the other's quarters every two to three months. to scratch an itch as one might say. after all, they were still young and quite healthy, so such urges were still common occurrences. might as well do it with someone familiar rather than do that with a stranger.

the relationship between tang bo and his wife was actually far more amicable than anyone could have guessed. it was hard to describe the solace they'd found in each other's unspoken commanderie within the household. they'd been living together long enough to know virtually everything about each other, yet there was always a line drawn between them to keep the distance.

today, she wasn't here for any of their usual arrangements. tang bo had came back to find his wife nursing a cup of tea in one hand, resting it on top of a propped-up leg. she had set out a game of weiqi on the table, next to a steaming teapot and array of snacks.

looks like someone's got news.

his teasing voice called out to the woman, settling down on the seat across her. he hums in thought, contemplating his move as she places down her white bead on the board.

your uncle came over to see why we weren't having kids yesterday. he's given me the results this morning, right after you left.

the woman holds out the folded paper, a little crumpled from being kept between the layers of her robes. tang bo takes it, opening it to read what his so-called uncle had diagnosed his wife with. talk about elder butting into a youngster's business for no good reason.

this...

he says that i'm barren.

she looks down with a small smile,and it looked a little bitter. of course, how could she not be? after all that had happened those few years back?

to say that she's unable to carry a child after all she had gone through back then was such a cruel prank from the heavens. he knows his wife wanted to be a mother more than anything, to give that little baby all her love in the world or along those sentiments — as did he. so if that's not going to happen... then, what now?

they were silent as they moved their beads across the game board. contemplating their next moves and what to say to the other.

there's crab stick snacks here, you should try some.

as always, she breaks the silence first. grabbing a few sticks of the salty treat to nibble on before handing the container over to her husband. tang bo reached for the food mindlessly, thinking about how nice it'd be to have these with some sweet wine.

ah, but his wife wasn't much of a drinker so that's a bummer.

═══════════════

ONLY CHILD

he should have heard the cries of the baby.

it was quiet inside, and out where he was waiting too. the nurses and maids walked out of the room with buckets of soiled, bloody rags with their heads down and mouths drawn into a thin line — something was wrong, something had gone terribly wrong.

tang bo felt his feet move, walking towards the bedroom where the doors were still shut tightly. he weaved past the attendants trying to hold him back, all telling their young master to go back and wait.

wait? why did he have to wait when he didn't know what was happening to his wife right then? she needed him. and she needed him right now.

the midwife slides the door open just as he was about to open it himself. they both take a step back in surprise.

young master... the lady is alive and well. she is waiting inside.

the older woman bowed and scurried away from the scene to join the others in the courtyard outside.

his wife lay on her back on top of fresh bedsheets and a clean nightgown. she had a sickly pallor, lips were chapped dry with red marks of blood from where the skin ripped open. hair that was riddled with sweat stuck onto the sides of her face, the untied tresses splayed over the top of the bed. her eyes were unfocused and blank, staring straight up at the wall, mind elsewhere. her cheeks were still stained with the remnants of her tears, the evidence of what transpired within these four walls.

wife...

tang bo called out cautiously. she didn't respond, barely even moved an inch to acknowledge his presence.

next to her on the bed was a small swaddle, the stillness of what was supposed to be alive unnerved him. the child's dull skin, probably in some shade of grey, eyes that were never to open, oh.

he sits by her bedside, back facing her. he too, did not know what to say to her at that moment. he was the last person that could have possibly comforted her. well, it was his child too but they were both not lovers so this was an offspring born out of necessity rather than a genuine want. and at this point in his life, tang bo wasn't actually too thrilled about the prospect of fatherhood. not that he would resent that kid, it's just he might not have loved them like he should.

his wife, she's mentioned her anticipation of motherhood but once in a while, he'd catch glimpses of the unreadable expression she had when no one was looking — all while she rubs her growing belly. it made him think that perhaps she wasn't always telling the truth.

once there was a patient who had came to the tang estate to treat the growing tumors in his intestines and since he was a rather important guest, most of the members of the main family, the two of them included, had dropped by to greet him and wish him well for recovery. tang bo could never forget the intensity of her absent gaze at the patient's stomach, her balled fist tightening over her shawl ever so slightly.

perhaps it's good that she's dead.

tang bo feels his eyebrows rise up in shock.

you're not too keen on fathering a child either, are you?

he shakes his head.

well, that makes the two of us. the heavens must be looking out for her, keeping her away from parents like us who can't give her the love she needs.

his wife sighed deeply. her tired face falling to the side to look at him, a lopsided smile making its way onto her lips as if to ease the heavy tension of her words away. she might be right. perhaps, it was better this way. tang bo closes her eyes with his palm, patting her to sleep the way one would with a feverish child.

their daughter would later be the two's first and only child.

═══════════════

SWORDSMAN

the woman wondered how one-sided her husband's relationship with his friend was. the man was a rather expressionless fellow — his sentences were short, curt and straight to the point. her husband didn't seem to mind, with now he was almost always all over that man. ah well, she's just happy tang bo has an actual friend.

rather than worry that he was drunk off his rocker out on the streets past midnight doing who-knows-what in who-knows-where, at least now he's causing trouble with someone she could easily track. apperently, the man was a troublemaker in his own home too.

the first time she met the older sect brother of her husband's friend, they shared a look of silent understanding. ah, so you too have an oversized child to deal with.

watching tang bo come home staggering on his feet together with the man, leaning on the other for support used to riddle her with worry but now she just ushers them both into a spare room prepped with the necessary herbs to concoct a hangover remedy and hope for the best. her husband was a capable man, he would never let himself falter and die in a ditch.

in hindsight, she might have been too confident in his abilities.

the swordsman was the best thing to have happened to her husband. and it was not an exaggeration by any means. not when he looked at his happiest for the first time since she'd known him. even if they were both past their fifties and sixties.

how nice. she thinks to herself whenever she spots them together. to find your other half, your kindred spirit in this word before you died... it must be nice.

she can't find it in her to be bitter. really.

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FIRST CHIPPING

if he were to look at what society deemed as a bastard husband, then that requisite would have had his face plastered as a prime example. the type of husband that any aspiring groom should not ever become.

though for those who were in the know, mainly his wife and himself, there was more to their marriage than what everyone saw. it didn't take long for either of them to recognise that this union had been a discreet way for them to hide away from what kids like them were supposed to act like in this rigid society.

they've stuck by each other as the only people who would have understood each other the best. so now that tang bo was finally finding the happiness he should have sought after all this time, he was always feeling the guilt of leaving her behind on her own in that house that had always been too big for just the two of them.

she has yet to utter a word of displeasure to him. that's how she was — the quiet one who kept to herself, letting things happen until the worst had passed over. it was one of the little things he detested about his wife.

he can't bring himself to really hate her. there was a time when he had opened up his heart and confided in her about some things he's been scared to come to terms with. the type of realisation one has from a very early age and has buried deep within themselves to fit into society and the expectations people had of him.

his wife had held onto his hand wordlessly, squeezing it ever so often to assure his nerves. he's never been this vulnerable before. he never thought things like this could be so frightening.

she had something to say too. but not right now. this was his moment, she's not so tactless to take it away. she can't stop thinking that if they'd been more honest earlier, then perhaps they wouldn't have hurt the other unknowingly all these years.

the walls they'd built between them were starting to come down a little — who would have thought they'd find out something new after decades of marriage.

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COMING TO TERMS

she couldn't really understand why her husband was loudly crying into her shoulder. her good robes were getting wet from his tears and snot. how did this almost seventy-year-old man have no shred of shame — in front of the attendants no less?

she had given him her blessings earlier today, and he was now free to pursue the swordsman so why was he not going off to sweep his beloved off his feet and ride off into the sunset or whatever those romance novels say?

wife, you know you aren't obligated to be bound to me any more right? if you wish, you are also free to love someone else...

tang bo managed to say between sobs.

...thank you for your consideration.

she hesitated. what did he mean by her being free to love someone else? she can't think of a time when she'd ever felt that kind of emotion, at least not the one that every person around her was chasing after, even back when she was in her youth.

there was always a disconnect whenever the other wives she'd corresponded with ranted and raved about their husband's infidelities or little annoyances. they were always on the verge of hysteria, driven to that point out of love for their husbands they said. and she'd think about how foolish it was.

thank goodness her relationship with tang bo had not been built on a foundation that flimsy. rather, it was one based on mutual respect. which was far better—

ah but. he must have felt trapped in this marriage. not everyone in the world was like her. not everyone had been born with the inability to be like everyone else and it was unfair how they all just instinctively know what romance and lovers-love is. so to have held him back in this loveless situation for this long was a cruel thing.

the good wife, the understanding wife, the kindhearted wife. it's all that she's been the majority of her life. she doesn't know what else there was to her now that she's let-go of these titles. she's free to do what she wants. but what does a caged bird set free know?

she had packed lightly, the clothes on her back were lighter and less showy, the stark opposite of what she used to wear as the daughter-in-law of the tang family. there was not much hesitation as she donned the weimao — it's white veil falling past her knees. she looked at the darkened courtyard of their estate.

she's received enough goodwill in this lifetime. she prayed at the ancestral shrine one last time, asking them to look after everyone now that she's going off.

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MORNING AFTER

tang bo awoke to the frantic bustle of the maids outside his room. turns out his wife had gone missing overnight without anyone noticing. he walked out of his room, wandering around the family estate until he reached the main halls where it was quieter. no one was allowed in here outside of events except for the elders and the main family.

he picks up the tattered note that had fluttered to his feet — eyes widening as he takes in the words written on it.

tch, that woman could still pull some tricks at her old age huh. he didn't think she'd still know how to surprise him. the paper was burned away on a candle flame. he wonders if he'd see his wandering wife on his travels with his taoist-hyung. would they all share a drink at the teahouse when they do? oh he hoped so. there's not much things to look forward to at this age, so at least give him some stories and a meal.

ah. he should let his taoist-hyung know about this too. before it slipped out of that old head of his.

#enihkwrites #rotbb #rotmhs #return of the mount hua sect #return of mount hua #return of the blossoming blade #dang bo #tang bo #return of the blossoming blade x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #dang bo x reader #tang bo x reader #gonna be real with you idk why i even wrote this #idk how i even had the idea to write this #it's more like a “tb was definitely married so how would that rls go with him and his potential wife” #*shakes the fic* pspspspspsps come get your fix loves

[rhiezus]

“ you can talk to me about anything. you know that, right? “ // jack x geovany

there is this song jack heard the other day while cooking his meal that said something about not being easy to be someone that you never dream to be and it talked about how you feel small in certain situations compared to other people, he had never been the type of person to dwell on his own sob stories but ever since geovany came into his life he seems to be finally picking his own battles to fight. lunch was great that day, he ate his food sitting on the curb in front of the stairs that lead to the dance studio he taught kids while waiting for his next class, and he thought about how lucky he is to be able to appreciate little things in life. he had always been a simple-minded kind of person, he just never realized how that must have worked through his entire life, shielding him from much stupidity. and whenever he felt crestfallen and off control of his own feelings, he would always repeat the words his mother would use to refer to him that at least he was nothing like john.

great people are hard to come by though and he knows that because he was never really surrounded by many role models, besides his parents and a few teachers and friends here or there, he just had to critic his actions by himself. and by some amazing deal of luck again, he wasn't that easily swayed by any side regarding what was right or wrong. in that sense, he was somewhat like john though just choosing to go with the flow and whatever comes next. day after day and battle after battle, he was just living life to be lived like a task that never ends. there were some good memories along the way, but none enough to make him wish to make life wait so he could live it again. that is until he meet geovany and his ordeal just begin to look a little bit too ordinary. everything he said or did was funny to the others, his words as little as they were to him were like big wisdom and his time suddenly started to look like it was precious. he begins to look forward to taking him out to eat every week, to pay for his meals, and sometimes to even invite him over to cook for them, to listen to him talk about whatever, and to encourage himself to be a real person for probably the first time in his life.

they might have overdone on the soju this time because jack felt his eyes wet in front of his friend, he had to blink a few times in a quick response to hide them and drink up another shot. the worst part of it wasn't what was going inside him or whatever feeling he might have towards his complicated and intriguing life, but the way geovany set the tone of the conversation with such a kind and melodic voice. if it weren't for the genuine look of affection in his eyes and the way his expression was so soft that made jack want to touch his idiotic face, he would be definitely laughing, but he felt raw under those eyes, naked and dizzy. "that's enough booze for both of us." he was telling himself that he was drunk, way too drunk and was begging to see things that weren't exactly there. his heart was beating like a drum set in his chest, it was exciting and all at once way too bewildering. he took the four empty glass bottles in front of them and got up to put them over to the sink, he couldn't believe they were so hammered. geovany just had a way of making him seem like the easiest person to be with, all his guards not lifting one finger up.

still up on his feet, he wanted to pace around his room to regain consciousness, hopefully. "you know most of what i say it's just shit, right?!" he begin trying to joke back on, confusingly trying to settle in the things off his couch to sit. his apartment was the size of a shoebox, there weren't any doors between the rooms except for the bathroom. there wasn't that much space to go with so there wasn't much furniture, the living room consisted of a couch and a coffee table that was mostly where jack would eat since there was no space for a real table. right in front of it was a small tv and then his bed, which was a mattress supported by a few beams of wood. all of his things were hidden inside his wardrobe, which was the only thing that seemed like he actually brought with his money besides his pans and kitchen utensils. he enjoyed cooking as much as he enjoyed his place, it was cozy and he was proud to be a clean person, it wasn't that hard to make it organized since it was so small and he had so little. other people might pity his station or the way he was living, so that's why he lied about his address for geovany before. but much to his surprise, geovany wasn't all fazed or disappointed, in fact, he appeared comfortable there which was conventional since jack loved having him over.

"you should stay, it's pretty late." saying that was enough to make his heart rate become quite a concern, but he didn't give it a thought and moved over to pick up his cigarettes from the table they were drinking and that geovany was still sitting at. "but i should warn you..." he began, putting the cigarette on his lips. "oh, do you mind?" he picked the cigarette again, with wide eyes and a cute little expression of wonder. he never bothered to ask geovany if he smoked, he probably didn't but at the same time, he didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his presence to make him not want to come around again. right now in his life, he couldn't afford the luxury of acting recklessly in front of the person he enjoyed being with the most, he was not about to lose him and he already lost too much. he would gladly stop smoking altogether if it were to keep him there forever, it was a stupíd habit anyway one he did subconsciously for a very long time for a reason that he wasn't even sure he knew. and now that he thought of it, just like smoking had been on autopilot so it had been his life. he didn't want to put that pressure on the thought that it was geovany making him take the wheel, because if he actually did he might not be able to set the brakes.

#ouvindo clay no repeat #how gay is that #NO BC THIS IS ACTUALLY GOOD WRITING #im proud #e tb traduz o que esta na minha mente #ha um mes #jack. #jack x geovany #its mean to be

[saneandrocking]

Sasusaku prompt - ''I am stronger than you today''

Sakura, gazing into the eyes of a tormented Sasuke Uchiha, poised to sacrifice the world for the sins committed against his clan, declares: "You believe power is strength, that all your potential is defined by what your eyes can achieve, by what you can summon, by the way you fight, by the way you kill, but you are mistaken. Strength is witnessing a world filled with injustice and malevolence and still choosing to fight to preserve the good. Strength is recognizing the reasons to rise against those who are corrupt, but understanding there is no justification to become the source of further cruelty. Strength is not forsaking your ideals to conform to what the world has made of you and how it has treated you.

You think I am weak for loving you and believing that you are lost in the darkness, as you scorn my feelings and my inability to kill you, but once more, you are wrong. I see in you someone who has been wronged and isolated, condemned to be a pawn in a game you were never even informed about. I see in you a child in pain, loneliness, and hatred, and, much to your chagrin, I see in you the capacity to love. Between the two of us, Sasuke, only I have remained true to my ideals and to who I am. You can kill me here, something you will have to fight for from beginning to end because I will never die without knowing that I avenged the person Naruto and I have mourned since we were thirteen. I am stronger than you today, not on the battlefield, but in mind. I am stronger than you, and it may be that I perish today because of it, but you will fall with me."

Bonus: A Sasuke who faces a Sakura Haruno who is simultaneously the same as the one he abandoned on the bench and so different that he needs to remind himself that this adversary is dangerous in a way that no other ever will be.

#sasusaku #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x sakura #au #angst #naruto angst #you can ABSOLUTELY use this to write #writers #naruto fandom #Sasuke needs a hug #Sakura deserves better #They're just kids #Sasuke ALSO deserves so much better #Konoha foundation is corrupt and it need's to be taken down #Rewriting Sakura as the loyal person she always has been BUT not forgeting the fact that she's also a shinobi and a much smarter at that tb #Sasuke's pain