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#I'm not even sure that it is going to take much away from the original charm like I feared
lumenflowered · 1 day
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I have... thought on the matter further. I myself may have been little more than a weapon to be pointed at the enemies of others in the past.
But that has changed.
I have changed.
I am not who I was before. That much is certain. The past is... not gone, nor would I wish for it to be.
Without it, I would likely still be complicit in... any number of terrible things. What went wrong at that fishing hamlet was far from the first incident I would come to regret. It was... simply the burden that broke the beast's back, so to speak.
I would undo it all if I could. But it may be for the best that I cannot. That I know, firsthand, what must never be repeated.
There were two reasons that I became a Hunter. The first was rather simple, and far from noble: I had nowhere else to go, was desperate for some sort of purpose, and knew that I could hold my own in a fight.
The second came later. Though not much later.
I... desired to protect people. Those who could not, or would not, protect themselves. I lost sight of that, before the end, and it took something so drastic as... as Kos, for me to remember too late.
Too little, too late.
I'm honestly not sure if it is better to know that my presence here, that my being alive at all, was nothing but a cosmic accident. I suppose it is a reassurance, however slight, to know that I was not... meant to be here at all.
Yet I am.
I know better now. Far better than I did before.
I will not be complicit in a terrible thing like that ever again.
Nor will I stand by and allow others to do the same. Not while I possess the skillset to prevent history from repeating itself.
...When it comes to battle with Pokémon, I find myself reasonably confident. But when it comes to combat without... my skills, I suspect, are much atrophied without having practiced them lately.
It might be easier to select a different weapon to train in. But I know how to wield my own, and 'easier' does not necessarily mean 'better.'
In this particular case, I suspect it to be the opposite. I thought that casting my blade—the original Rakuyo—aside would allow me to move on. It did not.
That was the wrong decision.
...Last night, I was scarcely able to take it up, even for a few moments. Before that, I could hardly bear to look at it.
I will take this slowly. As slowly, I suppose, as I can manage without growing impatient. But... it would be nice, I believe, to wield my blade in the service of real, tangible good.
And I...
I did miss it. That blade remained a constant in my life for longer than any single person did. Casting it away was like tearing my own heart from my chest, yet I scarcely felt it then. I feel that loss all the more keenly now.
...I will take this slowly. Very slowly.
But perhaps, in the future... once I have at least regained some semblance of my former skill... well.
It would be nice to spar with someone.
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genericpuff · 2 days
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Have you seen the Webtoon "Working with an Editor" Video? I feel like this explains a lot of how the platform's Originals end up in the states that they do. Based on that vid, it seems their editors are less the developmental or copy types, and more acquisitions and managerial focused. Which explains how some series have "an editor" for editorial oversight, while not being what readers would consider "edited".
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oh there are... definitely things about the editors I can tell you based on what I've read and even been told directly by some Originals creators (obviously their names are going to remain anonymous here lol) Before I go into it, every editor and every contract is different, I have no way of actually knowing what goes on behind the scenes due to not being an Originals creator myself, so please take what I'm about to say with mountains of salt as much of it was either learned secondhand through creator AMA's and at best, firsthand through anonymous Originals creators who I've communicated directly with. Ultimately you should be getting your facts from the creators who actually speak up on this matter, not me.
1.) WT has a VERY small pool of editors who are currently being stretched incredibly thin. Bre Boswell, as an example, currently oversees 20+ comics, including Lore Olympus (though not anymore haha), Nevermore, The Kiss Bet, Down to Earth, and Castle Swimmer. She is not the only one with this big of a workload. Obviously with one person having to oversee this many series at once, it's virtually impossible for them to do the actual "editing" part of their jobs, even if they genuinely want to.
2.) The role of WT editor isn't the same as a traditional editor - many of them are simply liasons between creators and Webtoons, meaning any questions creators have about their schedules, salaries, etc. are directed to their editors who then contact WT on their behalf and relay the response back to the creators. The bare minimum requirement for their job seems to be just making sure that creators are following terms of services. The traditional role of editing - proofreading, offering advice and storytelling tweaks, etc. - seems to be entirely optional and dependent on how much time the editor can devote to the series (see #1) + how much creative input the creator is willing to accept.
3.) With how low WT's standards are and how overworked a lot of editors have become, many editors actually stop reading their respective comics after the first few episodes once they're confident that the creator can handle the series on their own without needing check-ups that they're following ToS. So in that respect they truly do just become messenger owls between the creators and WT (and IIRC creators send their episodes to their editors to upload, they don't do it manually themselves). This is also why there are webtoons that share the same editor but differ greatly in quality of writing and art - how well a webtoon is written and drawn is often entirely dependent on the creators making it (it's why Nevermore manages to be so consistently good despite having the same editor as Lore Olympus which is consistently awful lmao).
As an added little thing, I will not say who, but there is a specific editor who... often gets a looot of special treatment from WT, from what I've been told and heard. A lot of their series get away with way more than what others do and get a lot more advertising privileges.
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(and no, it's actually not Bre LOL from what I've been told Bre is actually a very sweet person who's very chill to work with haha)
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cometrose · 2 days
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hi. i’d like to hear your take on how the other archons represent or have moon symbolism to zhongli’s sun, if you don’t mind!
in genshin there’s a lot of lore scattered around and pieces waiting to be clicked together, and your post really makes ideas go off haha
sure, im not as read up on the other archons as I am with zhongli but there is still a lot to work with
Venti
In his trailers and cutscenes (e.i Xiao) we often see Venti with the moon
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You can also look into his style of archonhood and how he does not directly guide his people but rather lets them do as they want and times guides them from behind the scenes
He is not overt and direct like the sun but more subtle like the moon
This is going to be true for most of the archons but there is the fact that Venti's image is based off someone else. Venti looks like the nameless bard but that is not his true form.
Venti is a reflection of someone else, much like moon reflects the sun's light
Mondstadt literally means moon city
To others he can be very bubbly and outgoing but when he is around the traveler his calm more reserved sides come out.
Venti has connections to the god of time, Istaroth, and time one key themes of moon symbolism as the cycles and phases of the moon have been used to track time, seasons and life itself. (Did you know the phases in the spiral abyss are based off the 3 moon sisters which is why there are 3 versions of a spiral abyss before it resets?)
Ei
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First look at her design and her wish. She has a dark color palette, deep purples and reds and Inazuma, specifically Tenshukaku, in the background is covered in darkness
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In her domain and her trailer it is rainy, dark and thunderous
Ei's constellation, Imperatrix Umbrosa, translates to Empress of Shadows
She was literally Makoto's shadow (kagemusha)
To go further, Ei lived in the shadows of Makoto's light. The story tells us that Makoto was better at guiding humanity and understood humans much better. Makoto was the archon, Makoto was the one who was adored. Ei was the moon to Makoto's sun.
However, you could even say since Makoto and Ei are twins rather than sun and moon symbolism you could attribute Makoto and Ei to the light and dark side of the moon. Because of the way the moon rotates, from earth we only see one side of the moon at all times. Hence, Makoto was the light side of the moon that was leading Inazuma while Ei was the darker side that was never seen.
Then Ei hiding away in the plane of Euthymia for hundreds of years while her puppet ruled means that Ei once more lived in the shadow (or subconscious) of another being
Originally Raiden wished for an eternal and neverending Inazuma. She wanted nation that would not suffer from the change of time. However change, and new beginnings are signaled by the onset of dawn. Each new day begins with the sun rising so by yearning for an "Eternal Inazuma" it was a nation that never saw a new day or was always stuck in night.
Even though the war is over and she can freely mingle with her people Ei is rather reserved and prefers to keep to herself
Nahida
Nahida has very direct moon symbolism.
Nahida directly refers to herself as the moon in Act II of the Sumeru Archon Quest and throughout the entire questline as a whole.
Similar to all of the other archons, Nahida is trapped in the shadows of Rukkhadevata.
Nobody cared for Nahida because Rukkha's glory and wisdom outshone her in every way (plus she was locked up in jail) even Nahida herself believed Rukkha was more shining and brilliant than her.
She even says in Act II after learning the sages have been acting behind her back that "In the end, I'm just the Moon. The real Sun is long gone."
Nahida's abilities and symbols are dreams, sleep and illusions. All of which are all connected to the moon and the night.
Nahida's character design. She is very white, and pale like the face of the moon. She looks like just a younger version of Rukkhadevata.
Although, Nahida comes to understand that she does not have to be like Rukkha or any other archon to be a good archon-she still has a long way to go. She is still a "small light" in Sumeru and it will take some time before she can shine as brightly as Rukkhadevata once did
Her wish looks like a big old moon doesn't it?
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Furina
Furina much like the others lives in the shadow of not only Focalors but indirectly Egeria
She is constantly trying to live up the glory of her predecessor (Egeria) but also the other archons.
Furina was forced to be in the spotlight. She shines brightly and strongly but that is not her own light. She is using the title as god and archon to be something she is not. In a sense, giving off light that isn't hers but merely reflecting the light of Focalors.
Just in basic symbolism, oceans, waves and tides are all usually connected to the moon, so the god of water is going to be connected to the moon.
Furina's "true" form her Ousia form which is dark and black in color while her "fake" form her Pneuma form is white and bright.
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Furina had no real power and to save Fontaine true divinity and power had to come from the original source (Focalors and ultimately Neuvillette)
Her true self lived in the shadows of the "Hydro Archon". Her true identity was a mystery until the trial.
When Furina leaves the spotlight and the curtains close and the lights dim was she finally able to be herself.
For example even when Arlecchino ambushes Furina it occurs in the dead of night when she assumes nobody is watching her anymore and she's allowed to be free for just a moment.
Furina's power and authority came from "others". She acted like an archon so we believed she was an archon. Much like how the moon "looks" like it produces light but really the light comes from the sun.
Furina is haughty and gaudy as an archon but as a human she far more relaxed and easy going. She doesn't have the striking confidence and dominance of the sun but a more gentle and refreshing aura to her.
Furina’s true light and beauty is when she can be herself or on the stage as a performer when she is no longer trying to be something she is not she because far more special.
A big part of why most of the archons have moon symbolism is simply because they are 1) not the original archon or 2) derive a significant portion of their life, legacy and or goals from someone else. In their lives there was a person who was the center of their life -their "sun". Whether or not the knew the person depends but these archons either embodied or idolized their ideals and appearance. As in they derived their light from someone else. Zhongli avoids this cause he doesn’t have a “twin” and he’s an original archon.
Character development and story progression have changed these characters appear and their respective symbols but I think you can safely argue that most of the archons have more ties to the moon than the sun.
The only exception I really see is Zhongli (you could argue Venti too sometimes) and the Pyro Archon due to the connections between flames and the sun.
But the Tsaritsa, on the other hand is very likely to have lots of moon symbolism. The only time we see her palace is in the dark of night, she's always commanding the Fatui to carry out her plans in secret, cryo -> ice -> winter -> dark -> night -> moon, plus the moon is tied to themes of romance and love she is the goddess of love etc. We can do this all day.
Nonetheless, moon symbolism connects to a multitude of themes such as femininity, shadows, time, darkness, eternity and renewal, love and mystery, divinity and gentleness etc. Many of these concepts appear in our archons and their storylines.
So of the archons we know Zhongli is the most sun-orientated (masculinity, power, strength, passion, clarity and knowledge, life etc) so far. It’s not like sun and moon traits don’t overlap so you’ll definitely see these characters embody different ideals but in my mind most of the archons represent the moon.
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magentagalaxies · 3 months
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#i should've just gatekept scott thompson from my college bc the way my college is treating me right now is bullshit#like i don't even want to do the scott event anymore bc of how they're treating me but i kind of have to#and i know i should be grateful they're even letting me be one of the interviewers but i hate being a student so much#i hate how nobody respects my opinion or input or experience even tho i'm literally the reason scott's even doing this event#(and ESPECIALLY the reason he's willing to do it for free!!)#and it especially stings bc scott has never made me feel like my insights were worth less because i'm a student#like he's always been one of the few people who consistently treat me like we're equals even tho he doesn't have to#and the way my college is treating me. it's like they don't trust me to not be an annoying little kid#like they're just assuming scott doesn't respect me so they don't have to respect me either#i mean on the plus side i'm supposed to have another phone call with scott either today or tomorrow so i can probably explain the situation#like i don't want to make him feel negatively about my college i want him to have a good time#but this treatment is genuinely fucking with my self confidence#and also maybe i can harness scott's power to hear ''don't talk about this thing'' and immediately make the interview all about this thing#(except in this case it would be him treating me like an equal instead of a random student)#and there's a bunch of bullshit currently going on with the class i have right after the event#so even tho originally i was like ''awesome i have the perfect schedule to bring scott to all of my classes!!''#i might just ask scott if he wants to skip class together and hang out. like i never promised that class anything#the only thing i *have* to do is the interview. the class we'd be skipping is already being like#''oh are you sure scott wants to visit the class i don't want to take him away from a better use of his time''#and scott was genuinely excited to see what my classes were like!! even if y'all didn't treat him like a big celebrity!!#but y'know what i'm sure scott does have a better use of his time. and i do too.#i'm gonna do the interview event bc i have to (we're in too deep at this point)#and i might ask scott if he wants to talk to that freshman film class about the buddy cole doc#bc 1. they offered to pay scott for that (they can't legally pay me but that's why i made the joke about money laundering)#2. since it's about the doc it's the one class where i get to be treated like an actual person#but other than that. damn it i was excited to share this part of my life with scott but fuck that this part of my life sucks#i'm gonna have a good time with scott in boston and my college is only going to be as much a part of is as they have to be#because we ARE friends (scott said so!) and i AM a brilliant filmmaker (bruce said so!) and i DO have potential (bellini said so!)#even tho it is hard to internalize those things after how much yesterday fucked me up. but that's ok scott will call again soon
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earthtooz · 7 months
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Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
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x : DISTANCE :*+゚
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
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Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.” 
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 
“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs. 
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  
“Which was?” 
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 
“I love you, Wriothesley.” 
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 
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*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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allisonreader · 1 year
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Wrote another 655 words tonight for A Different Kind of Cinderella.
Which is for a section that was originally 258 words.
That's a 397 word difference.
One thing that I can say for certain is that my writing is not full of lush description. It's more of a bare bones, here's just enough to tell the story, but not actually enough to picture what I see in my mind as I write.
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colleendoran · 4 months
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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update
AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.
The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.
Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.
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You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.
Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.
 Go me!  
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This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 
And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.
Not complainin' just sayin'.
This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 
But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!
Then my computer crawled toward the grave.
My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.
There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.
At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.
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Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.
That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.
Welcome to my gigabyte hell.
The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.
All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.
But I was not daunted! Nosirree!
I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!
And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.
At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.
I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.
Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.
That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.
Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.
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I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.
Then there was news.
I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 
It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.
Then I got the official bad news.
Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.
Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 
I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.
"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.
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So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.
Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.
Eff this guy.
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Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.
I didn't even know there was such a thing. 
There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.
I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.
What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.
Hi Ho.
Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.
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I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 
Just cut it out and get me back to work.
And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.
Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.
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The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 
Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.
I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 
To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.
I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.
I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.
I have never been more grateful in my life.
Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.
Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.
Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.
Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.
But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.
Then I finally got my surgery.
Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.
My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."
Which was super not fun news.
Eff this guy.
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The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.
The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.
By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.
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I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.
But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.
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All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.
After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.
Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.
Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.
But at least my main hospital is super swank.
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The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.
So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.
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Nearly tore off my damn nostril.
Eff this guy.
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Anyway, it was a bad year.
Here's what went right.
I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.
Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.
No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.
So, yay.
My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.
I got to ring the bell.
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I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.
I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.
After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.
Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.
I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.
It's a miracle.
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Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.
The new computer works great.
The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.
I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.
I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.
More time for real life.
While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.
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OK. Rough year. 
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Back to work on The Book.
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And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 
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melonn-soda · 5 months
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Kinktober Day 3 - Dazai Osamu
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word count: 3.2k
warnings: HATE SEX, dubcon, cuffing, overstim, slight dumbification, edging, dazai calls u petnames and he's an ass, reader is a slight brat, bottom cis male reader, top ftm dazai
prompt: dazai visits his favorite mafia member and gives him a little reunion gift
notes: READ WITH CAUTION, THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK THEMES. tell me if there's any other warnings I should add, please. sorry these prompts are super fucking late. different texting style but I'll go back after kinktober prompts are all posted. still currently working on the other ones because this is taking longer than expected. too much plot going on with them lmao. anyways, I'm tired of ftm characters always being on the bottom, so I contribute this. trans dazai canon because I'm trans and I said so.
fem aligned dni
The air blew a cold breeze around Yokohama, chilling the residents of the city and keeping them locked up inside their homes. Nobody went outside without some sort of extra layer to protect themselves from the chill of the atmosphere, either wearing jackets or hoodies over shirts when they strolled down the streets. Dazai Osamu blew hot air into his palms to warm them up as he walked down the sidewalk, eyeing every shop that was on his right. The bakery he passed by was closing down due to lack of patrons and he made sure to get some pastries for Atsushi, Ranpo, and himself beforehand. Some clothing shops were bathing in money because of the upcoming fall and winter seasons approaching faster with people preparing for the cold days by purchasing thick layered clothes. Every store was having its own ups and downs at the moment.
Even with all the tempting things he could buy, he still passed by most of them until he was at the edge of the city, with fewer people and cars coming in and out of this area. There were a few supply trucks coming in and out because of all the supply shipments coming in but that was going to be all. However, Dazai didn’t come to the warehouse for no reason. After all, he always went to somewhere that had a purpose.
He walked through the gates without anyone stopping him, walking to a particular warehouse before pushing the doors open. It was dark and gloomy in the place, yet felt strangely warm from the contrasting colder outside weather. Dazai made sure his steps were slow and quiet, keeping his presence minorly hidden to avoid getting himself hurt if someone were to attack him. He made sure to peek around the corners of supply crates to make sure no one was going to blast bullets directly at his face, eyes scanning with caution in every area he invaded.
A loud clang alerted his senses, and the sound of sizzling came humming after. Dazai’s intuition was right, he was here doing exactly as he thought he would. Footsteps increasing in speed, he rushed towards the source of the sound, still making sure to look over corners rather than going in head-on. Since he wasn’t that far away from his target, it didn’t take him long to get there, seeing the person he was looking for with a mischievous smile. Oh, how he missed seeing his face.
The burned part of a shipping container was melted off in the shape of a circle, laying on the ground as the material was still a glowing red before returning to its original color. The man who stood next to it, the person who caused the eruption of a loud noise from metal hitting cement was none other than his long lost Port Mafia ex-coworker. [l.name], [name]. So many memories were shared with that boy since they’ve known each other since their teens. 
Dazai watched you step into the shipping container, following after you and watching as you rummaged through products, putting multiple things up to inspect before putting them back in place. He knew which product you were looking for and where it was, eyes landing on the box before flicking back onto your figure. With silent steps, he walked in, but once his other foot was placed inside, a loud creak was made and it alerted you to fire a burst of flames that shot out from your palms. Dazai, of course, saw it coming as he leaned so that he narrowly missed it, feeling the heat on his chest before grabbing your wrist and moving his weight around to get himself behind you and out to safety before using his foot to swipe and make you lose your balance. Alarmed and unprepared, you fell onto your stomach as Dazai moved your arm behind you mid-fall, getting your hands effectively pinned against your back.
“Ah~, [name], always so reliant on his ability. It was always your biggest flaw, y’know?” Dazai began to tease, pressing his knee against your lower back to keep you on the ground. He watched you try and wriggle out of his hold, knowing that you were too physically weak to actually break free. Weaker than him, I dare say.
“Dazai! What the fuck are you doing here? Let me go!” You scowled, glaring at him over your shoulder, cheek pressing against the cold metal. Your eyes still held the deep fire as always, so bright whenever you got fired up or even mad. The ex-Port Mafia executive always found that really cute about you, but he never really admitted it out loud, only doing it if he wanted to get a reaction out of you.
“Looking for you, of course!” He chimed with a playful smile, one that always managed to piss you off, “I figured you would be here looking for that really important document from overseas, but I can’t have you getting your hands on it. After all, we’re enemies, are we not? I have to do everything in my power to foil your devious plans.”
You tried thrashing around a little harder as he spoke, not wanting to see or even be within a 100-foot radius of this man, “Can’t you just leave me be this once, you fucking psychopath!?” You yelled out, clearly upset with the predicament you found yourself in. Chuuya really needed those papers and if he found out you didn’t even get the chance to find them, you don’t want to know how mad he might get.
“Oh my, is that the way you should be talking to your past loving boyfriend?” The brunet gasped in mock offense, leaning in a little closer to your ear.
Your face flared slightly at the closeness, “Past!! We’re not dating anymore, sicko. We broke it off the minute you left the Mafia, or have you forgotten?” You glowered at him, “For years, I’ve wondered where and how you were, only to get a message from an unknown number that told me we can’t be together anymore. I knew it was you because of your texting style.”
“But I can tell that you still want me,” Dazai continued to poke around with your feelings, not caring about any of the consequences that might follow after. He heard you immediately deny it all within a seconds notice but, “Oh, but you do still desire me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be blushing so hard over me just whispering thiiis~ close to your ear.” He chuckles as you shift your face so that he couldn’t see it.
“Just get the hell off of me.” You threatened weakly, feeling him shift around slightly while still on top of you.
You could hear Dazai sigh in what seemed to be in disappointment before he yanked you up and got you to sit on his lap. Dazai was sitting on the floor and you could feel your face grow even hotter as his body pressed against yours even more in this position.
“Y’know, I could really care less about you taking those documents. I didn’t come here to stop you either,” The detective told you, causing your eyes to widen and look back at him, “I only decided to foil your plans because I wanted to see you again. Do things we never got to do with you. For instance,” with a pause, one of his hands let go of your wrists and teasingly slid down your waist, getting dangerously close to your sex, “now that we’re adults, you can lose yourself to me.”
The last parts of his words were said in a whisper, causing a shiver to go down your spine as your lips pursed to suppress a whine. However, your body decided to show your true feelings you held towards the brunet with your dick hardening and sensitivity going to overdrive. You still loved Dazai, you really did, but you didn’t expect to react this way. Maybe it was because of the stress from the Port Mafia? I mean, it has been months since you’ve last jerked off.
“Oh dear, it seems like you're getting excited.” Dazai chuckled next to your left ear, his hand gently brushing against your crotch as you let out a whimper, “and your sounds are just the cutest.~ I’ve been imagining this scenario so many times, and now that it’s happening, it’s hard to believe that it’s ending up like this.”
A strained moan left your lips as you could feel his hand press harder against the tip of your cock, head falling forward in shame over turning into putty from just his voice and soft touches alone. In a near desperate tone, you still attempted to resist his efforts, “S-stop- this isn’t right-!”
“You may say so but your lovely body still craves my touch.” You could feel his fingers undo your pants and slip into your underwear, his cold touch coming into contact with your blistering heat, “You still desire me, otherwise, why would you still keep pictures of me on your wall after so many years, huh?”
“Go.. ah- fuck yourself.” You growled, a loud wince ripping through your throat at a particular tug at your cock, your back unconsciously arching and the back of your head hitting against Dazai’s shoulder, “Shit, shit, shit!”
“When did you become such a brat?” Dazai huffed out annoyingly, “Have you been spending too much time with that stupid slug? It looks like he’s beginning to rub off on you.” His hand picked up in pace and technique with a squeal of surprise coming from your mouth causing the brunet to smile slightly, “Ah, but I think it might make breaking you even more enjoyable.~”
Tears began to spill from your eyes from the stimulation, whining and moaning pathetically in Dazai’s hold as he continued to pump your cock. He even noticed that you stopped retaliating against his ministrations, fully submitting from the pleasure racking your brain into a state of stupidity. God, you looked so good like this.
“Fuck!” You suddenly yelled, thighs quivering around Dazai’s legs, “I’m close, ‘Samu- can’t take anymore-!” Words slurring like you were drunk, your hips bucked to bring yourself to your release.
Much to your dismay, Dazai pulled his hand out of your pants promptly, causing you to whine in protest, “Not just yet, lovely. I wanna see you scream and beg me for mercy as I dumb you down into oblivion.” He whispered sweetly though menacingly, causing you to shudder in delight.
Within a blink of an eye, he slammed you back down on the cold metal floors face first, taking out handcuffs from his back pocket and locking them on your wrists. You took the time to catch your breath as he got up away from you to dig into one of the containers, pulling out a black box with gold lining on it. 
He took a seat next to your slumped figure with a mischievous smile on his face, opening the box and pulling out a solid black strap-on and a bottle of lube. The dildo was about 5-inches in length as far as you could tell, although there was nothing on the other side to please Dazai. Did he just buy that thing only to watch you become fucked out in ecstasy?
Dazai grabbed a bag of toy-cleaning wipes from the box as well, making sure to wipe the strap-on down as he continued to look at you deviously, “Do you like my surprise, lovely? Are you excited?”  He asked, removing some of his clothes to place the toy around his pelvis.
Your dick twitched in anticipation, drool pooling on the ground as you looked dazedly at the sheer size of it, “However,” Dazai interrupted, “Because you’re a virgin, you’ll have to wait. After all, you’re nothing but my fragile little doll. As much as I would love to see you crumble, I wanna take my time shattering you.” He smirked, popping open the bottle and spilling its contents over his long, pretty fingers.
Positioning himself behind you, he gently grabbed your hips with his non-lubed fingers to lift your ass up into the air. Pushing only one of his fingers in your hole, he continued to pour lube consistently onto his hands to keep your insides from tearing. It wasn’t even 30 seconds before he found your prostate, pressing on it harshly to see you jolt and gasp, easily making you into nothing but a plaything. Even still, the fucker avoided it on purpose for the next few minutes of stretching you out. He added finger after finger when he saw you ready for the next, but wouldn’t even press that specific area. 
After what seemed like an hour of teasing, he pulled out his fingers as you trembled on the cold floors. He wiped his fingers on the inner parts of his trench coat, hands then finding themselves on your waist to make it so you could feel the silicon against your thighs that were pressed together. You don’t know if you were enjoying this, or hating this.
“You ready, dollface?” He asked you, hands sliding up your chest and pulling you up so that your back came into contact with his body. You could feel the toy slip through your thighs for a brief second before he positioned it so that the tip could press against your hole, pressing lightly against your rim as you let out a shaky moan.
Glaring at him from the corner of your eye, you growled, “Just put it in, you asshole.” Maybe Chuuya has begun to influence your attitude.
With a grin, Dazai shoved you down onto the silicon dick without any lousy comebacks, causing a loud wince to fall from your lips. From the tip of the cock pressing against your prostate, you wailed pathetically in desire as your body was beginning to give up, letting your torso fall back onto the ground with a light thud. Your limbs started to feel like jelly, trembling terribly as Dazai pressed his hips even closer, reaching even deeper as you sobbed out in pleasure.
“Ah-! F-fuck-” You cried as Dazai began to pull out briefly before rocking his hips into yours repeatedly, setting a rhythm for himself. Incoherent ramblings spilled out of your cute lips as he continued to press against your prostate, your body feeling extremely heated.
“Oh, aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?” He cooed into your ear, one of his hands trailing up from your hips and to your nipple, pinching and pulling on it lightly to stimulate you further. He brought it up to his mouth to wet those fingers then returned them onto your chest, the slight chill making you shiver when the cold air brushed underneath your shirt, “So sensitive, too. I hope I’m the first person to see you like this.”
“U-urgh~... Dazai..” Words slurring and hiccups turning into broken moans spurred the brunet even further, pistoning his hips even better when he took ahold of one of your ankles and lifted it into the air with ease. You were just so cute like this.
“Osamu.”
Staccato moans turned into full on wails as you could feel the tip of the dildo poke at your prostate, sending you into a mess of tears and babbling nonsense. It was too much. It was all so much for you. From the edging Dazai did earlier, the pent up stress from being in the mafia, now the dick inside you that was ramming you into stupidity, you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. And fuck, if it didn’t come fast.
You were sobbing thick tears as cum spilled out of your pathetic excuse of a dick, seeing Dazai’s face contort into one of amusement as you came all over the floor. Body shaking from the heightened stimulation, you wanted a break, wailing at him in hopes to tell him to at least slow down.
You should really know better, though, because he’s an asshole and would do anything in his power to watch you crumble for his own entertainment. And you acting like you hated him only motivated him to fuck you even harder. So here he was, bending your left leg so that your knee nearly touched your chest while continuing to move his hips at his brutal pace. It didn’t help that his toy kept pressing into your sensitive spot either.
“W-wait! Nnng!” You cry out, fingernails digging into the metal of the shipping container, “Osa- ah! Osamu, sl-slow down-!” Your voice squeaked as he used his hand that was on your hip to press down hard against your tummy, feeling the tip of the silicon dick disappear and come back.
The agency member giggled, raising that same hand and wiping away the abundance of tears flowing down your face, “Look at you~ just so adorable and begging for me to stop. Don’t you remember what I said? ‘I wanna see you scream and beg me for mercy as I dumb you down into oblivion.’” The attitude in his voice becoming condescending and dark.
His hand travelled down to grasp your dick, causing you to bite your bottom lip to quiet down the scream that nearly left your lips. Almost too quickly, your cock hardened once more with tears flowing down the sides of your face from overstimulation. Dazai only gave you a shit-eating smirk while he looked down at your pitiful face, feeling a rush of excitment through his veins.
God, you should’ve taken the day off.
Dazai took off the strap on with ease, letting it fall back into the box, shiny with lube and Dazai’s own slick. He didn’t care about his own orgasmic pleasures, just wanted to see you once more, even if that meant fucking you stupid. He wasn’t lying when he said that. Dazai was cruel, there’s no doubt about it. However, he still had the courtesy to clean you up with multiple wet wipes and redress you. Too bad he couldn’t do anything about the bruises and bite marks littered beautifully across your sleeping form.
The brunet pulled up his pants and closed the box with the sex toy in it, holding it by pressing it against his side while his other hand fished his phone out of his trench coat’s pocket. Quickly, as if he remembered the phone number by heart, he dialed one of your co-worker’s digits and his phone began to ring.
“Who is this?”
“Chuuya!” Dazai said in a chippy tone, hearing the other groan and spit out a “what do you want?” in response, “Well- for starters, [name] is in a shipping container, currently knocked out. You know, the one you wanted him to check? Could you be a good friend and pick him up safely? Oh! But be careful, he’s a little sore in the lower half.”
“What the hell did you do to him!?” Chuuya barked on the other side of the line, Dazai hearing him kick open doors to rush over to where his coworker is.
“Just a little reunion gift.” Dazai singsonged, pressing the “end call” button before he could hear his long time friend yell again, “Man, they sure are becoming too similar. I’ll have to fix that.”
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circusofthelastdays · 1 month
Text
face sitting with astarion
warnings: MDNI, NSFW, afab fem reader, dom astarion, submissive reader, cunnilingus, astarion being a bit of a tease, implied to be after the end of the game.
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"I said sit, love." Astarion tells you, wrapping his hands around your plush thighs, lightly tugging at you in an attempt to make you settle down overtop his mouth.
However, he is met with nervous resistance from you, with the outright refusal to fully sit down, opting to hover over his face. A mumbled explanation falls from your lips, "but I don't want to hurt you, star... what if-"
Astarion cuts you off before you can finish your words, he doesn't want your explanation. He wants you to sit, to taste you, to allow you the pleasure of coming undone from his mouth alone from a new angle. "You act as if you will suffocate me-"
He leans his head up, licking a stripe across your slick cunt before finishing his sentence, "you seem to forget, I do not need to breathe, my sweet."
He grips your thighs and tugs again, harder than before, and with the tadpole no longer there affecting his vampiric strength... it's no problem for him to get you exactly where he wants you. Just one tug is all it takes, and you're properly seated on his face despite your protests.
He is almost too good at using his mouth- his tongue collecting your slick with intention, leading to working your clit in a way that has you wanting to weep from pleasure. Your hands end up tangled in his hair, gripping his silver curls for dear life, effectively drawing a pained yet aroused groan from his lips.
Wanton moans fill the air, cascading out of you when you feel the reverberation of his groan against your soaked cunt. You can feel him smirk against you- he knows despite your original protests, you enjoy this more than you thought you would.
He teases at your thighs with his fangs, gaining a whimper from you before going back to paying attention to where you need him most. It's all in the way he sucks at you oversensitive clit, the way he laps at your arousal- only he can get your thighs trembling within minutes, and reduce you to having no thoughts but only of what he's making you feel.
He chuckles quietly when you attempt to lift your hips, and get away from the intense pleasure he is granting you, "don't run away now, darling." He taunts, before pulling you back down to his mouth and circling your clit with his skilled tongue to push you over the edge.
Because above all else, he loves the way you lewdly moan his name as you come undone. You sound so salacious, so beautiful. He works you through your orgasms always, never faltering in his ministrations no matter how much you wail and tremble.
So, Astarion grips your thighs tightly, not allowing you to get away from him- even when you're falling forward and holding onto the headboard to keep upright. He keeps you there until you're gushing, until he's sure you've had enough. Only then does he let you go, to let you collapse on the bed beside him, in an attempt to catch your breathe.
He wipes his mouth clean of your arousal, and gives you only a moment before crawling over your body, hooking his knee under your leg to spread you wide for him, "I hope you know, I'm not done with you yet, my love."
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
Note
i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.
parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!
Peter had two sets of friend groups. 
The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 
Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 
It’s split like this. 
With friend group A, he’s Peter.
With friend group B, he’s Parker. 
You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 
Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 
It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 
His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 
Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 
It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 
You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 
If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?
—------------------------------
Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 
If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 
“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 
You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 
Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 
Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 
“Want company?” 
Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 
He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 
“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 
You shrug, “sure.” 
Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 
That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 
“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 
His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 
So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 
When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 
—----------------------------------
Noise woke you up. 
The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 
There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 
You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 
It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 
“I slept like shit, how about you?” 
You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 
Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 
“Waffles or pancakes?” 
You grin, “french toast.” 
Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 
He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 
“Okay, come here.” 
You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 
Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 
A text thread between him and Nick. 
“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 
“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 
“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 
“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 
“Appreciate it, man.” 
A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 
Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 
You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 
You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 
“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 
“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 
You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 
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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months
Text
DC xDP idea: Misplace Baby
Danny makes a mistake.
He was messing around in Clockwork's lair-specifically the one with all the various clocks- when he accidentally broke a glowing gold hourglass on himself. It was the size of a house, so as the sand practically drowned him, he didn't notice his body shrinking until he dug out of the shimmering sand.
Danny stumbles on chubby little legs, panicking when he notices his clothes are suddenly too big and his hands are tinny. He fumbles to one of the old grandfather clocks to check his reflection in the glass. A small three-year-old stares back at him.
Danny screams, pushing away from the old clock. His actions cause him to trip over the leg of his pants, and he falls. Just as he tries to catch himself, the clock starts to ding.
Danny briefly recognizes the old melody of a Westminster before the clock's glass case swings open, revealing a portal, and he falls through. He catches a glimpse of Clockwork with a hand on his forehead, shaking his head in the doorway as he falls.
His face is dragged against the carpet as the Westminster chime rings behind him in the otherwise silent room. Groaning at the burn on his nose and cheeks, Danny sits up.
He turns around, watching in horror as the portal closes.
"No! No, no, no!" He opens and closes the glass door, but all he sees is the slightly swinging pendulum. Repeats his actions again and again. "Clockwork! Help! Clockwork!"
His mentor does not answer, and Danny can't feel him in the air. Can't sense his new father figure's gentle control over the flow of time. If he's learned anything in the last year he's been working as his appearance, this means Clockwork isn't in charge of this timeline.
He's in a universe so far from his original that not even the god of Time is the same. Moby Dick, he's gone and goofed now.
"Who's there?" A voice demands, and Danny whips around to see a startled man in a suit. A fine black two-piece suit that looks more expensive than Danny's house and car. Oh no, a rich man.
The man's blue eyes soften when he sees Danny. "Hey there, chum. What are you doing in my study?"
Danny blinks up at him as the man walks closer. At the closeness, the halfa's body betrays him. He starts to sob. Strong, painful sobs that wreck his whole body, and he can't breathe from how much he's crying.
The man's arms are around him in seconds. "Oh, Chum, it's okay. You're okay."
He lifts him up, pressing his wet face against his neck as he pats Danny's little back. It is humiliating, but Danny can't help but cling to the strong shoulders and curl against the warm chest as he cries. His tears and snot are all over the man's suit, but he doesn't seem to care as he comforts Danny.
Eventually, he cries to sleep, tear-stained face still pressed against the stranger's neck and his little head leaning against a strong shoulder. The rich man carefully tilts his head to ensure the toddler is fast asleep.
Once confirmed, he takes the small boy to the guest rooms. He needs answers- who is the boy? Where did he come from? Is he the son of one of the Gala attendees? What had the boy been doing at the clock guarding the Batcave?- but he will find those later. Right now, he needs to tuck this small child into bed.
"Master Bruce, your guests are waiting for you to give the speech," Alfred says, catching him at the stairway. The butler's eyes zone in on the small child in Bruce's arms before nodding. "I shall inform Marster Dick to speak for you. Who may this young lad be?"
"I'm not sure. I just found him crying in the main study." Bruce tilts his head to the upper floors. "I'm going to tuck him in."
"I'm afraid I only prepared the room next to Master Damian in preparation for Master Jon's visit. Thankfully the lads would not be opposed to sharing a room for the night if I request it of them."
"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I-"
"Who's child is that!?" Jason demands, stomping his way up the stairs. He's missing his suit jacket, and there is a nasty red stain on the front of his white shirt. Likely he's come for a change after "accidentally" dumping it on himself to get away from the Gala.
The toddler's nose wrinkles, indicating his sleep may be interrupted. Quickly, Bruce pats his back, humming a lullaby before the child can wake. The boy settles after a small sigh. He gives Jason a warning glare that the young man has the decency to look remorseful.
"Jason," Bruce starts, voice hushed. "I found him in the main study. He looks distressed, but a few minutes ago, I got an alert that someone had gotten into the manor. When I followed the motion detectors, it led me to this little guy."
"A baby broke into the manner? That's hardcore." Jason replied, peering at the sleeping child only to gasp. "It's another mini-you!"
"No," Bruce tells him, but secretly he thinks the same when he first finds the little boy in the main study. He had already taken a lock of the boy's hair. Just, you know, in case.
"Nice try, old man." Jason pulls out his phone, his thumb flying over his screen. A soft ding comes from the pockets of Bruce and Alfred. He doesn't have to look to know his son has just told all his siblings about the child.
A series of dings follow shortly after.
Bruce sighs, choosing not to answer, nodding to Jason and Aldfed as he quickly goes up the stairs. At least Alfred delays Jason from following by scolding him over the red stain.
Once the boy is safely placed into the bed, he carefully changes him into a pair of Damian's smallest pjs. They are still far too big for the boy but better than the jeans and white shirt he wore. He's happy to find that besides the red on his face- it looks like carpet burn- and a small bruise on his knee, the boy is unharmed. He places a stuffed octopus in the toddler's arms- smiling as the little one automatically clings it to it - before rushing down to the Batcave.
There he runs the DNA tests just as he reviews the camera footage. There he catches the toddler walking out of the woods, pushing himself through a small gap in the metal fence and wandering around the manor until he finds an open window and crawls in.
The window was opened by one of his Gala guests taking a smoke break. Bruce felt a small annoyance that they didn't follow his "no-smoking" rule even when he had explained on multiple occasions it was due to Tim not having a spleen and being worried about his health. He'll have to blacklist that man.
The child had not gracefully fallen into the manor, and Bruce winced as the boy slammed against the carpet floor as tripped. It explains the marks on his face. The boy had then cried for a few minutes- his cries must have been drowned out by the music of the Gala- but then he must have realized that no one was coming for him, so the baby had gotten up and wandered through the house crying.
He had found himself in the main study, where a few minutes later, Bruce had seen him.
Rewinding the camera, Bruce's eyes narrowed at seeing a piece of paper pinned to the boy's clothes. It looked like it fell off when he crawled through the window. Checking on the DNA test, Bruce left the cave to look for the paper.
He found in the hands of Cass, whose eyes were going over the words with fascination. She looks up at him, unsurprised by his approach- no one could sneak up on Cass- and smiles widely. "Baby brother?"
"What?"
She hands him a letter. It's short and to the point; it claims to be an old fling that gave birth three years ago, but she doesn't want anything to do with the child. She's sending the boy to the manor and is out of the country by the time he arrives.
She leaves no name.
Bruce can't remember anyone with whom he had a fling three years ago, so he knows it's a lie. Still, he would rather not find her if the child was abandoned like this. He's not sure he wouldn't break all her bones.
"I don't think he's mine," Bruce tells Cass. She tilts her head with a frown, staring at him with a soft glare until he sighs. "But I won't mind keeping him."
She beams.
The two make their way to the Batcave and find Dick already there. He's staring at the screen displaying the DNA results with a stupefied expression.
"Chum?" Bruce asks, but Dick doesn't respond. He only gapes at the screen. Cass skips next to him before she, too, freezes, and Bruce is slightly worried about what he will find.
There is a match between the boy and someone in the manner alright. But it's not with Bruce.
It's a match with Dick.
"Holy rapid-ranging ravens, I'm a father." Dick gasps.
Clockwork runs his fingers through his idiotic son's hair three floors above them. Kronos stands guard at the door, arms cross as he watches the visiting time god carefully whip the dimension travelers' memories.
Kronos is in charge of this universe timeline, but when he was approached by Clockwork asking for a favor, well, it was not hard to shift some events and make Danny a legit background.
He was now the son of Dick Grayson and Stacy Quinell. One was a boy who had been born in a circus but was forced to leave it after the death of his parents. When life got too rough, the boy would join the circus for short trips under the name Dan Danger.
The other was a girl whose parents were so determined to control every aspect of her life and were going to force her to marry a man twice her age she left home at sixteen.
She joined a traveling circus-Haley Circus- where she had a fling with Dan Danger. The night Dan was meant to go, she had seen him without his mask and learned it to be Dick Grayson.
Upon discovering her pregnancy, Stacy feared being kicked out of the circus, so she took a short break, gave birth to the boy, and kept him until he was three, thus demeaning him old enough to be without his mother.
She took him as close as she could to Wayne Manor and left. She intended to return to Haly's Circus, unaware of the fate that waited for her. Unaware of the Cout that needed new talons.
"Are you sure about this?" Kronos asks, "I'm all for discipline, but having the boy forget everything about himself for going into the timeline room?"
"It's not a punishment," Clockwork says. "It's a gift. Danny had lost so much when his parents learned the truth. His sister died trying to get him out of the house. His best friends were crippled when trying to hide him. His town was blown to pieces when his parents decided that no one in Amity Park could have a family if they could not have their children. Danny had spent years wishing to forget but mostly wishing to be a normal child. I will forever be grateful if a lifetime here grants him that."
Kronos frowns. "You have no power here. You do not know what awaits him."
"True, I know not of the trials and tribulations Danny will face, but I know you do. And you would not let anything happen to him, won't you." Clockwork looks at Kronos through his lashes and the other god of time swallows.
"Of course, my love. I will protect him. But unlike you, I can not get involved with mortals as easily. I will not be able to shield him."
"His new family will," Clockwork says, pressing his face against Danny's hair one last time to breathe him in. It will be a lifetime before he can hold his son. "The bats have faced worst odds."
Kronos tilts his head in agreement. "They have rewritten fate on numerous occasions. Even the Flashes have only been able to overturn fate but never truly go against it."
"The Court of Owls?"
"Danny will deal with them in time. His new mother is on her way to becoming a Telon. He will erase them from the timeline once he learns what they have done to her." Krono answers, eyes glowing as events of the future play before him. He watches a glowing figure battle against the king of the dead, his white hair shining brightly. "He seems to take the throne from the king of dead even here. Remarkable."
"My son is the most remarkable being around," Clockwork says proudly. He flouts from the bed, leaving behind a child with only memories of three years and a few false imprinted glimpses of the circus trailer his mother hid him in. He presses a kiss against Krono's lips. "I find myself wishing for another child. Will you assist me with that love?"
Kronos snaps them out of existence just as Danny opens his eyes and feels a small loss. It's quickly forgotten as his new father runs into the room to gasp. "Hey there, buddy, do you know who I am?"
Danny Grayson is introduced to his uncles and aunts later that night. He also meets John Jones and his niece Megan Morse who ask him a few questions about his past. Danny gets a funny feeling around them, as if someone was running their fingers through his hair but inside his head.
Thankfully they find everything to be alright.
And a new generation is born.
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songmingisthighs · 7 months
Text
ateez reacts to you catching a bouquet at a wedding
group : ateez
pairing : ateez (individual) × reader
genre : relationship, romance, crack ?
wc : 3 k
warning : idk relationship ??
a/n : my impulse strikes again
buy me coffee ?
hongjoong
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From the moment the mc announced the bouquet catching session, Hongjoong was tense. He sat slightly straighter and his eyes were wide as his attention was focused on you who joined the other people on the floor.
"Oh look, he's about to shit himself," Wooyoung snickered as he sip his cocktail. Seonghwa smacked his younger friend on the chest and shook his head, "Don't be an ass, bouquet toss doesn't have to mean anything," he said as he shifted his eyes to his frozen friend. "Is he even functioning?" Mingi asked, peering over to wave a hand in front of Hongjoong's face, noticing how the older only move to take small sips of his scotch. "I am, thanks for asking," Hongjoong answered in a monotonous tone, everything he had was put solely on your excited form, not knowing how to feel about you possibly catching the bouquet and expecting things.
What Hongjoong didn't expect was expecting for you to actually catch the bouquet and feeling happy when you did it. He couldn't possibly forget the look on your face as you ran back to him to show off the pretty arrangement. "Did you have fun?" He asked, can't help but cracking a smile as you sat down on your original seat next to him, making the others disperse to give you two a moment. "Of course I did, look!" You giggled, showing off.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see people looking at the both of you and he began getting nervous again. Noticing this, you reached your hand to grab his and smiled, "Don't worry Joong, I'm not expecting anything from you. It's just a fun activity to see if anyone would embarrass themselves," you leaned in to peck him on the lips gently, "So you stop looking like you're about to shit your pants, okay?" You said as you stood up and walked off to your friends.
It was at that moment that Hongjoong realized that he really do want to spend the rest of his life with you. You were so understanding with him and you could always seem to calm his irrational fears. Maybe people were on to something about wedding bouquets.
seonghwa
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In all honesty, you never thought of joining the others in the bouquet toss because a. it's cheesy, b. it's barbaric, c. you're in heels and you'd make a fool out of yourself. But it seemed like Seonghwa REALLY wanted you to join in, failing miserably to "subtly" encouraging you. Who'd say 'It's good to get a bit of movement' ?? Your boyfriend Park Seonghwa, that's who.
So you found yourself amongst other people in the middle of the floor, looking at your boyfriend who was grinning at you by the sidelines. "I hate you," you mouthed at him to which he replied by blowing you a kiss, "I love you too," he mouthed back. You could've just walk away but your boyfriend wanted you to do it and honestly, you'd rather comply to the bouquet catching than the other thing he wanted to do. In public space. Semi-public place. Or an open space. Or basically just... A place.
You weren't even paying much attention but somehow you managed to catch the bouquet, it just fell into your hands after three people fought over it on top of your head. The whole crowd couldn't help but stare at you in your dumbfoundedness for a solid five seconds before errupting into a big cheer. The crowd made a path for you to go to your boyfriend and your body just moved on instinct, welcoming his awaiting hug and breaking out of your trance when he pecked your lips. "Seonghwa, I swear, I don't-" you wanted to explain but he just grinned widely, "Guess you're just lucky," he chuckled as he placed his hand on your back to guide you back to your seat.
Little did you know, Seonghwa pulled the bride to be in cahoots with him, making sure to aim the bouquet at you and hope for the best because in a week's time, you'd change your status from being his girlfriend to his fiance.
yunho
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Weddings are always your and your boyfriend's thing because neither one of you can resist people in fancy clothing dancing like goofy dorks. And the celebration of love and whatever but mostly the goofy part.
That particular wedding, you and he were pretending to be someone else. Each of you have characters, personas that you assume to mess with people. It's not his fault that people believed that he's south korea's first classically trained didgeridoo player who won an award for breakdancing to mozart. You wondered why he and you hadn't got caught yet for making a mockery of someone's marriage ceremony. A mockridge ceremony.
Not even when the bouquet toss happened did you two start to pay attention. Because you both obviously didn't. You both were doing subtle goofy dances by the edge of the circle, completely immersed in the song they played to wind up the crowd, giggling at each other like lovestruck fools. The last thing you remembered was raising your hands in the air, hearing someone yelled 'the bouquet!', then when your hands dropped back down, you were holding said bouquet.
With wide eyes, you stared at each other dumbly for some time before Yunho broke into a fit of giggles while grinning dumbly. "Guess I really need to learn the didgeridoo so i can turn you into a didgeri-i-do," he joked. You rolled your eyes and slap his chest without trying to hold back your own wide grin from his lame wordplay but also the very unique situation. "What if it's a didgeridon't?" "Not possible, you love me too much," he teased, kissing your lips with the crowd cheering behind you two.
yeosang
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You love your boyfriend but you sometimes hate how seriously unserious he is. For example, who would think about why perry the platypus was teal? Who would suddenly ask if you have a bandaid in your purse only to put it on Seonghwa's leg and ripping it along with his leg hair? And lastly, who would start a bet at someone's wedding? Oh yeah, your boyfriend.
"And what will you give me if I do catch the bouquet?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow with crossed arms as you leaned back on your seat. Yeosang pursed his lips for a moment before shrugging, "We can iron out the details later but for now, let's just say it's anything you want and same wager if you lose." "You're on," you pointed at him before standing up, leaning close to his face and squint your eyes, "Get ready to eat dirt, you no-good loser. Love you," you pecked his lips before skittering away to join the forming crowd, leaving Yeosang smirking in amusement.
San pulled Yeosang to get a closer look at you, standing a bit further away but close enough to see you clearly. "Look, she's standing a bit out, she's gonna lose this bet," Yeosang pointed at you to San who furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't know man, look at the determination in her eyes, she might kill someone to win your stupid bet," he stated. And true to what San said, you actually jumped into the air with no trouble despite your mid-length skirt and heels, catching the bouquet and landing safely in front of Yeosang, making eye-contact with him. Your boyfriend stared at you with widened eyes and when you raised an eyebrow at him before turning around to face the crowd, he could feel his lips curling into a grin, amused.
Laughing, San leaned back slightly and muttered to Yeosang, "You're so screwed man, she's gonna play you like a damn fiddle." And that's when Yeosang's grin fell.
san
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Everything is truly fun and games in your relationship with San. In a good way, of course. He has a knack of finding the fun in everything, even the most serious situation.
"Honey, you have to get that bouquet," he panted after rushing from the dessert bar to your table. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "What are you talking about?" "The bouquet toss!! I heard Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa hyung are doing it so you have to do it too!" He said, grabbing your hand to tug you up. "Me? You're the competitive one, you do it!" You said, slapping his hand away to sip your champagne. San raised an eyebrow and spoke in a monotonous tone, "I heard Wooyoung saying you don't have it in you to win against them and the crowd." Well, that ticked you off just right. One second you were sipping your champagne, and the next, you downed the whole flute, "Move," you hissed, pushing San out of the way and stomp over to where they were preparing for the bouquet toss, San hot on your tail grinning like an idiot.
It wasn't even a real competition yet he was hyping you up like how a coach would. He even motioned for you to elbow Wooyoung and anyone else if you had to (which of course you won't because that's crazy, you're not an animal, and it's so not worth the hassle if you're charged with assault). But as much as he was excited for your participation, that excitement trippled when you really did catch the bouquet (and managed to "accidentally" knee Wooyoung in the gut). He couldn't help but run to you and spun you around. You grinned and let him hold you, liking the attention and utter pride San had for you. "That's my baby!" He exclaimed happily, causing people (mainly girls) to squeal and swoon at how sweet you two were being.
mingi
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"Babe, what if I caught the bouquet?" You asked your boyfriend who had his eye on his cake but turned when you called him. "This bouquet?" He asked, pointing to the arrangement in the middle of the table. You chuckled and shook your head, "Sweetie, that's a centerpiece and I won't be able to catch that," you then nodded to the bride, "That's a bouquet and the thing she will be tossing. I wanna catch it," you stated determinedly. Mingi simply shrugged, "Then catch it, I'm rooting for you," he grinned, leaning down to peck your lips.
You knew you shouldn't expect anything, but you know the meaning of catching the bouquet. So in your wedding haze-infused head, you thought that it was Mingi's way of hinting about the future. Particularly your future together. So you excitedly skip over to join the others, determined to catch the bouquet and see if your boyfriend would do something about it.
Your determination proved to be fruitful because you did catch the bouquet and the moment you did, your friends (especially the male ones) went over to pat Mingi on the back and shook hands with him. He was looking around confusedly, not understanding why he was being congratulated when it was you who caught the bouquet. He wanted to ask you but you were still surrounded by people and there was no way he could get to you.
Thankfully, Hongjoong came over but judging from the smirk on his face, Mingi wasn't sure if he should be glad. "So happy for you man. When are you gonna do it?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi scoffed at his older friend and crossed his arms, "My sex life is not up for small talk, hyung. What are you, raised by animal?" Hongjoong rolled his eyes though he wasn't too surprised. "Not that, dumbass, I mean proposing! When are you gonna do it?" The confused look on Mingi's face was hilarious and concerning and to be frank, Hongjoong didn't know which he should address first. "You do know that catching the bouquet means that you're gonna be married next, right?" After hearing that, things started to make sense to Mingi.
Rushing to you once the crowd dispersed, you were surprised when Mingi grabbed your shoulders, "Does this mean I have to propose now?" You simply rolled your eyes and pat his cheeks, "Not right now sweetie, this is our friends' big day. But soon would be great and I hope it would be a grand gesture," you smiled sweetly and pecked his cheek before walking off to get a drink, leaving Mingi there dumbfounded.
wooyoung
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It started off as a joke. You know your boyfriend and you know how he likes to play things cool like as if he doesn't care but he so does.
"I'm telling you, I will do it," you said seriously, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at him. "I know and I'm telling you go ahead," Wooyoung shrugged oh so simply with his arms also crossed in front of his chest. Quite frankly, you wanted him to be affected even if it's just slightly like raising his voice, squeaking, or even laugh like a damn witch possessed by a tea kettle. "I'm telling you, I will really do it," you took a step away from your boyfriend, closer to where people were gathering. But Wooyoung simply shrugged again, "Okay? Do you need me to change shoes with you? Trade outfits so you can move better?" Now he was starting to sound condescending so you simple huff and stomo away and as soon as you were away, Wooyoung cracked a smirk.
"You're going to hell for this," Seonghwa sighed as he sidled up next to Wooyoung who was watching you closely. There was still a stupid smirk on Wooyoung's face, "Might as well, hyung. It's about time hell has a new ruler." "You know this can potentially end badly right?" Seonghwa asked, "And a meteor could potentially hit earth at any given moment yet here we are still functioning as a society," Wooyoung said as he pat his hyung on the shoulder. Just as Seonghwa was about to answer, Wooyoung shushed him because the mc announced that the bouquet will be tossed and he wanted to see you succeeding.
As much as he was an ass, Wooyoung actually liked how you two interact. He loves you and he likes the relationship a lot. Which was why there were no question or hesitance to his plan.
It wouldn't even matter to him if you caught the bouquet or not but as it happens, luck was in his favour and you actually caught the bouquet. In the midst of your utter excitement what with cheering and jumping happily, you didn't even realize Wooyoung standing behind you until people started hushing and all eyes fell on you two. You turned around to see Wooyoung looking at you so intently and your eyes widened considerably followed by people gasping when Wooyoung got down on one knee slowly. "(y/n)..." He started, smiling gently at you which made your heart beat faster and eyes watering.
Then he looked down and tied his shoes before standing back up. "Come on, I wanna take a picture to show my mom," he nodded to the exit before walking away.
Not just you, but the whole crowd of bouquet toss participants were looking at you with their jaws slack while some people in the back (Yunho, Mingi, San, and Hongjoong) laughing their asses off.
"Jung Wooyoung!" You hissed as you followed him once you realized what had happened. Wooyoung was holding his laughter as best as he could, knowing that being riled up like this, you'd definitely like the surprise he has for you at home.
jongho
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Never would anyone guessed that Jongho would be such a simp of a boyfriend. Then again, no one (his friends) thought he'd even be a boyfriend considering his aversion to skinship, cutesy talk, and any and all forms of love being displayed proudly.
"You're so disgustingly in love, it's sick," Wooyoung cringed, looking at how Jongho was looking at you with a dumb smile and lovestruck eyes. "Shut up hyung or else you'll die alone," he retorted, smile ever present and even widening when you turned to look and waved at him. "Can you not make googly eyes while she's about to seal your fate of marrying her? It's so... Simpy," Wooyoung stated again. Thankfully, Yeosang slapped his best friend on his neck to shut him up, "Let Jongho be happy with his premature engagement," it was then that Jongho realized that Yeosang was also making fun of him.
But he couldn't care less. He shrugged and crossed his arms, "If she wants that, I'll go buy a ring tomorrow," he challenged. Mingi then scoffed from his standing position behind Jongho, "You won't even buy me a candy ring, how are you gonna buy your girlfriend an engagement ring?" To which Jongho scrunched his eyebrows and turned to look at Mingi, "I think you just answered your own question."
No amount of noise could disturb how focused Jongho was on you. His eyes followed over your every move with curiosity, affection, and worry, a combination that got him teased endlessly by his friends. But it wasn't as bad as when you actually caught the bouquet and you immediately ran to your boyfriend who got out of his seat to wait for you with open arms.
"Jongho, look!" You showed him the bouquet with a happy grin on your face, "I caught this for you," you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Jongho chuckled at your adorableness and nodded, "Thank you, darling, I appreciate your effort," he said before pulling you by your waist back to your seats. "No fair, I got him whiskey just now and all he said was 'where's the ice?'. It's favouritism!" San whined. Jongho simply pushed his chair closer to yours and draped an arm around your shoulder to bring you close to him, "What can I say? You're not (y/n), hyung," he smirked before leaning down to whisper in your ears, "And I'm willing to give you anything you want," he said before pecking ypu on your cheek, making your whole body heat up at the insinuation. From both the sfw and nsfw spectrum.
network :
@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet
taglist :
@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut
@chloepurpy
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vent-stink · 10 days
Text
Ateez hybrid Au, where Seonghwa owns puppy San and kitty reader, and Hongjoong owns fox wooyoung. (heavily inspired by this ask by @thetypingpup and this smut by @kitten4sannie although I don't write mxm). Seonghwa adopted pup!San first, and he was pretty sweet, but he didn't like socializing with other hybrids, so when Seonghwa stopped by the shelter one day and found this pretty kitty reader, he has to bring her home, and the poor thing is the cutest and shyest kitty San has ever seen and he immediately becomes infatuated with her. She's usually attached to Seonghwa's ankles at any given time, but San is always attempting to be in her space when their owner isn't home. Even though San absolutely adores her, Seonghwa is the one to take care of her during her heats while San cries pawing at the door. That's not to say that he and reader never play together, though, because once Sannie gets a sniff of her cunt, he goes feral and she loves to play. He's just not allowed to be with her during her heats because the one time Seonghwa let him, he almost hurt reader because he was too aggressive due to her pheromones. Seonghwa usually likes to watch them play since they're so cute together, and sometimes reader begs him to join, too, and he'll do anything for his precious kitten. (you can tell how heavily it's inspired by that ask). San isn't good with other hybrids, so when Seonghwa's friend Hongjoong offers for their hybrids to have a playdate since his fox hybrid Wooyoung is fucking annoying and while he likes making friends, the other hybrids get too intimidated by his energy, and while Seonghwa thinks his shy kitty would also be intimidated by an energetic hybrid, he knows that she's still very friendly, so he accepts Hongjoong's offer, but San doesn't come because Seonghwa knows he'll pick a fight over reader. The two end up getting along a little too well, and much to their surprise, they find the two naked cuddling and heaving in the living room when they come back. Hongjoong would have smacked Wooyoung with a news paper if the two of them didn't look so darn cute all cuddled up like that. (super super inspired by the kitten4sannie smut. I literally imagine everything the same except switch owners and they're not into each other like that (or are they?)). At some point, Seonghwa has to go out of town with San for something, so he entrusts reader to Hongjoong for the weekend, and while both she and Wooyoung are ecstatic, she ends up becoming clingy with Hongjoong more than Wooyoung because she's so used to the security of her owner and Hongjoong is the only available substitute for the time being. She can't be away from him for long periods of time. Hongjoong is used to the clinginess because Wooyoung is like that too, but it's definitely not in the same way. Hongjoong is more like a parent to wooyoung than anything, but when he let's reader sleep in his bed because she refuses to leave him, he's shook to find his cock in her mouth the next morning, taking care of his morning wood like it's her job. He feels guilty as he let's her finish and cuddles her as she asks him if she did a good job, and calls Seonghwa to apologize, but Seonghwa just laughs him off and apologizes for not warning him about reader's habits sooner. Let's just say that Hongjoong has a newfound appreciation for Seonghwa's little kitten and understands why the hybrids and Seonghwa love her so much. This is definitely an AU I will constantly be writing for. This much was inspired by the works I mentioned above, but there is more original plot for them for sure. Please ask about it if you're interested, I want to write so much for them and I can definitely add other members later :3. (I'm still working out whether kitty will be you, y/n, or reader tho)
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sophsbookstore · 18 days
Text
Chicken Shop Date
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Lando Norris x reader 。・:*˚:✧。
Masterlist can be found in navigation!
Word Count: 2,348
Y/N walks into the chicken shop where they're filming the newest episode of her and her best friends youtube show Chicken Shop Date. Y/N and her best friend Amelia have been running the channel for a few years now, both girls switching off taking turns dating different celebrities.
Today Lando Norris was to be on the channel, and Y/N was ecstatic. Y/N has always been a big fan of formula one, with McLaren being one of, if not her favorite team. The original plan was for Amelia to be doing the date, the girls always switching off interviewing every other date, but Amelia knowing how much Y/N liked Lando, trades spots with the girl trying to set her friend up.
“Ok Y/N, Lando should be coming round the corner in a few.” One of the PA’s says, kneeling next to Y/N who was already sitting at the table, wiping her nervously sweaty hands against her legs.
“Y/N are you excited?” Amelia asks her best friend, Y/N side eyeing her friend before turning her attention back to the empty chair ahead of her.
“You suck, you know how much I like him, it was your turn to go on a date anyway!” Y/N whisper shouts. Amelia laughs, giving her bestie a quick hug before going to her spot behind the camera. The rest of the crew gets ready as Lando and his team enter the set.
Y/N watches anxiously as Lando shakes the crew member's hads, introducing himself to everyone before coming over and sitting across from her. “Hi, im Lando” the curly haired man says, holding his hand out across the table for Y/N to shake.
She does so, blush creeping onto her face. “Im Y/N, but i'm sure you already knew that” the girl stutters out. “That over there is my co-host Amelia, which I'm sure you already knew as well..” Y/N says kicking herself under the table in embarrassment. Lando looks at the girl, the smile never leaving his face.
“Ok you guys, we are starting in 3..2..” the director holds up one on his fingers, putting it down as everyone gets quet waiting for Y/N to start talking.
“Do you like chicken nuggets and chips?” what a way to start off the “date”, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I love chicken.” Lando says to the girl, smiling slightly as his head nods with satisfaction.
“That's good, I do as well.” Y/N reminds herself that this isn't a real date, she has to keep up the unbothered, bored character throughout the whole video. This is going to be harder than she thought. “Did you know that chicken makes you more beautiful” Y/N can feel her ears getting hotter.
“Does it really?” Lando asks, feeding into Y/N bit. Y/N agrees with the man, nodding her head.
Just then one of the PA’s comes out and hands Y/N a Capri-Sun, she places one in front of herself and Lando. Lando stares at the bagged drink in confusion, turning his head to the girl in front of him, back at the drink, then to her again. “How did you know I like Capri-Sun?”
“because…I’ve..Been, researching you..” the girl stutters out. Way to not sound like a creepy stalker, Y/N thinks to herself.
“I didn't even know I was doing this until yesterday.” Lando says, trying to steer the conversation away, stabbing his straw into the hole at the top of the bag. “I just looked at my calendar yesterday”
“Really? I've known about this for a while now, I've been manifesting it actually.” Y/N taking a bite of a fry, putting on a confident act for the camera.
“So manifesting actually works?” Lando asks, fixing the hod of his sweatshirt.
“It's been in my diary for about 5 years, you just didn't know about it until now.” Y/N shrugs, Lando leaning forward with laughter.
Y/N quickly looks over at Amelia, the girl silently laughing at her friend's awkwardness. Looking back at the monitor Amelia notices her friend secretly eyeing her down, turning to face Y/N she gives her a thumbs up, silently telling her that shes doing a good job and has nothing to worry about.
“Are you into, like, racing and motorsport?” Lando asks, trying to capture the girl's attention.
“Oh yes!” this perks Y/N up, being asked about something that she thoroughly enjoys. “I love Formula 1, my dad is a really big McLaren fan, so growing up we all had to be too.” Y/N finishes with a laugh.
“Are you still a McLaren fan?” Lando leans forward in his chair.
Wanting to play hard to get, Y/N leans slightly back in her chair. “I would say so, yes.”
“Who's your favorite McLaren driver.” he asks with a smirk.
“Oscar Piastri.” Y/N says, her face void of any emotion. Lando sighs, frowning slightly as he takes a bite of his food in defeat.
The pair could go on and on about racing, having both grown up watching the sport, as well as having the same favorite team, the two continue talking. “You know, I've never been to a race before.” 
This perks Landos interest. “I should take you sometime. Let me know which race you want to go to and I'll call a few people.” 
Y/N almost chokes on her drink. Did Lando Norris just invite her to her first ever race? Lando Norris. Her celebrity crush, and the person she has been manifesting to have on this show since it gained its popularity.
“I would really like that actually.” Y/N blushes, not being able to think of a cheeky comeback for his offer.
“You know what, bring your family too, you said they were McLaren fans aren't they?” Lando smiles at the girl, Y/N only being able to nod in agreement and thankfulness.
Lando takes a moment to eat some more of his food, Y/N looks over at Amelia, her best friend silently screaming and clapping for the girl. Y/N is stunned, her eyes wide, her mouth making an “o” like shape. Y/N shakes off the excitement, knowing that she still has to finish the “date” before she can get too excited.
“I hear it gets quite hot in there.” Y/N says catching Landos attention.
“Oh yeah, it gets very hot. Yeah, sweaty-”
“It would be even hotter if I was in there.” Y/N says bluntly. Lando opens his mouth to say a comeback, but when his eyes meet Y/N’s he shuts up, instead the blood rushes to his ears and he bites his lip. “Agreed?” Y/N instigates.
All Lando could do was nod and smile, his face getting redder and redder. Y/N takes her moment, taking a sip of her soda for confidence the girl leans forward, giving Lando her full eye contact as the interview carries on.
“Are you a romantic person?” the girl inquires. 
Lando takes a bite of his fry, looking at Y/N as a smile creeps onto his face, he looks down at his meal. “When I need to be.” he looks back up at the girl, still smiling.
“Good to know.” Y/N keeps eye contact with Lando, taking a bite of her fry, the boy winking at her subtly, making her nearly melt off her chair.
The two continue to eat in silence, one of the PA’s signaling to Y/N that they're about halfway through with the interview. This saddens Y/N, she doesnt want it to end. What if this is the first and last time she’ll ever get to see Lando. No, he offered to take her and her family to a race. What if it was just a joke? No, that would be too mean to be a joke.
“What's your ultimate goal?” Lando pulls the girl from her thoughts. “Apart from like this” Lando says motioning to the cameras and food in front of them.
“To fall in love I guess.” Y/N shrugs.
“That's cute.” Lando smiles at the girl. If she wasn't sitting down she would have passed out in the moment. 
Y/N analizes is face, taking in how cute he is before mustering up the confidence to continue the interview. “What's your type?” the girl asks.
“I'm open.” he shrugged nonchalantly.
“What do you specifically look for in a girl then?” Y/N questions the boy in front of her, desperately wanting to know.
“Just someone who's funny, has Y/E/C, beautiful, has Y/H/C, you know?” Lando continues to wait, trying his absolute best to act nonchalant. “How about you?”
“Oh you know, racer, has brown curly hair, brown eyes, a brown hoodie on right now. Nothing much to it really.” Y/N states, matching the energy as Lando looks down at his brown sweatshirt, looking back at the girl and smiling.
“Good to know.”
“Are you a big spoon or a little spoon?” Y/N doesn't waste any time before jumping into the next question.
“I'm big.” Lando responds. 
“That's perfect, I've been looking for a big spoon.” Y/N casually says.
“I've never been a little spoon before.” Lando laughs at the shock on Y/N’s face, the beautiful girl in front of him making him clarify that he's never been a little spoon before. “We could try,” Lando quickly says to Y/N, both taking a moment to imagine such a thing before turning their attention back to one another.
“Do you snore?” Y/N questions the driver in front of her.
“Yes.” he replies bluntly, leaning his body slightly more forward.
“No, really? That's a deal breaker for me.” Y/N puts on a fake sad face. She looks at the driver in front her, his face dropping ever so slightly, but enough for it to be noticeable. “It's ok, we can work around it” Lando nodded in agreement with the girl, his face perking up a bit more.
“How far away do you live?” Y/N asks, not caring about how creepy the question can sound. 
Lando laughs, looking down at his food before looking back up at Y/N “I love in Monaco.”
“Shoot.” Y/N sighs, finally breaking eye contact with the beautiful British man. “I don't know if I can do long distance.” 
Landos face falls, his smile faltering to a frown. “Well that's no good is it?” the two fall back slightly in their seats. 
“Am I going to have to move out to Monaco? Or will you stay in England full time?” Y/N asks, forgetting this is just a playful interview, actually thinking about her hypothetical future with Lando.
“Hmmm.” the driver ponders. “Whatever you want I'm good with.” he smiles.
Y/N laughs, playing along she obviously looks past the camera toward her friend Amelia. “I think we might have to move chicken shop to Monaco.” Both girls laugh, Lando blushing at the idea of Y/N moving her whole life to stay with him in a different country. 
The PA looks at the pair, walking around the camera and sneakily handing Y/N a custom made chicken shop trophy. Y/N thanks the PA before holding the trophy up and looking back at Lando. “You may not come first in anything yet, but you are the first F1 driver to go on a date with me.” Y/N holds out the trophy for Lando to take, he “awws” in response.
Lando holds the trophy in his hands, looking down then looking back up at Y/N “hopefully i'm the last F1 driver you have on. I would say our date was pretty successful.” he smiles.
Y/N doesn't hide her blush this time, looking down and laughing slightly before refocusing back at lando. “Maybe, maybe not. We’re still waiting to hear back from Oscar.” 
The director yells cut. The rest of the crew and various team members walk about the shop finishing their own tasks leaving Lando and Y/N to their own. The pair get up from their chairs at the same time, now standing in front of one another.
“Thank you for this again.” Lando says, motioning to the trophy in his hands. “I really had fun today.”
“Me too, thanks for coming, even if you didn't know until yesterday.” the two laugh, a comfortable silence falling between them.
“Hey umm, maybe we could do this again, no cameras or anything. I'm in England for another week or so if you're free.” Y/N is taken aback, did Lando Norris just ask her on a real date.
“I- umm, yeah I would really like that. I'll give you my number so we can plan it.” 
“Perfect!” Lando smiles, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it, then handing it to Y/N. Y/N quickly types in her phone number, setting her contact name, and taking a picture of herself for the contact photo before handing the phone back to Lando.
“Well then i'll see you soon Lando” Y/N says, looking up at Lando, taking a small step closer to him.
“I'll see you soon Y/N” he holds his arms out, giving the girl a brief yet firm hug, before getting called away by one of his team members.
Y/N stands in shock. Recapping everything that had just happened since the director started filming. Amelia runs up to her friend, nearly tackling the girl with excitement. “What happened, what did he say?” Amelia interrogates Y/N, having witnessed their interaction from afar.
“I just got a real date with Lando Norris.” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to see a text from Lando with an address and time. It's official, her manifestation had worked and she was now going on a real date with the driver she's had a crush on since he signed with her favorite team. Lando Norris.
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taylorman2274 · 1 month
Text
We Care About You (Part IV)
Your attempts to cater to their needs only leave them confused and concerned. However, just when you think of giving up, more barriers are broken.
Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers; Liyue Archon Quest Act IV Spoilers
Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom;
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When Genshin finally finished loading, you found your player character back where you originally left them before you were forced unconscious; in the bustling streets of Chihu Rock. The first thing you noticed was the red exclamation marks over the Paimon Menu, Events Menu, and Battle Pass Menu. However, you saw these exclamation marks nearly every time you logged on to Genshin, so you weren't surprised.
What does surprise you is that so far, everything appears to be... normal.
The Traveler was currently doing one of their idle animations, the NPCs were all in their familiar spots, and the leaves were subtly floating to the ground...
You began to grow suspicious.
You moved the Traveler one step to the left, cutting off their idle animation. They moved as you expected. Then you moved them right. Then up. Then down.
You looked at their face. They were staring back at you with lifeless eyes.
"But they're not lifeless..." you commented.
Next, you opened up the preceding menus. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Even Paimon was doing her usual shtick.
Finally, you turned the Traveler away from your gaze and had them walk a few steps forward. You had them perform their normal attack combo. No signs of restraint were noticeable.
"...I guess everything is as normal as possible," you noted. "I'll still do everything I promised myself I would do. I don't want to be deceived by false appearances."
You opened the party setup and began to remove everyone from your party aside from the Traveler. You had decided that since nobody specifically asked the Traveler to join them on their travels, you should only use the Traveler from now on. Sure, that may make things harder for you, but you were willing to take on the extra challenge if it meant that everybody was happy.
However, as much as you would prefer to avoid it, you knew that fighting enemies was inevitable. You were just going to need to be extra careful while fighting to make sure that the Traveler doesn't get hit.
"It's almost like I'm doing a no-hit challenge," you chuckled.
Lastly, you were going to take your time doing long quests such as Archon and Story quests. You figure that doing so many quests in a short amount of time would be tiring to the Traveler. Especially with how grueling some of them can be.
With that being said, you took the time to quickly organize the pages of notes on your side before setting off to the first commission of the day, conveniently in Liyue Harbor of all places.
...By walking, of course. Strictly walking while inside cities should be the norm from now on.
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The Traveler was nearly quivering in excitement.
The adrenaline rush that they got when they realized [Y/N] was back in Teyvat made them all hyper and focused. They were ready to do anything and everything with you. They wanted to sprint across the widest plains; climb atop the tallest mountains; and fight against the strongest enemies.
However, they have learned before that they need to be patient.
Over time, they have come to realize many patterns that you have while guiding them throughout Teyvat. One of these patterns was that you normally started working on the daily commissions first.
So they were a little surprised when the first thing you did was move them around, almost like you were testing to see if they would still follow your guidance.
"You don't have to worry about that, [Y/N]," they thought. "I'll always be here for you."
Not to worry though, [Y/N] went ahead and guided them to all the places where the commissions took place afterward. However, there were some things that they noticed while they were completing them.
The commissions involving the common folk and the time challenges went about the same way. It was the fighting commissions that had them asking questions.
What was the best way to describe it...? They still had no problem defeating the enemies, don't get them wrong, but they noticed that you seemed to be a little more... cautious?
Normally, [Y/N] would have them rush in and start swinging. Sure, this was reckless at times, and got themselves hit a couple of times, but that was honestly the fighting style that they were most used to. However, this time they noticed that for whichever enemies they were fighting, they would focus on one at a time and balance an attack with a couple of dodges whenever their opponent attempted to strike back.
Furthermore, they also noticed that they were the only ones fighting. They know that [Y/N] is capable of guiding at most four people at once. So why were they only using them?
"Perhaps I can ask Paimon whenever [Y/N] leaves." they thought.
Not that they wanted you to leave, no no no. You had just come back to Teyvat after a whole week! They wanted to make up for lost time.
"If I counted right, that's all the commissions for today. Just got to visit Kathryne and then we can continue with our day. I wonder what we will get to do today. Are we gonna do some exploring? Fight amongst the ley lines? Meet up with old friends? I can't wait!"
They waited for their exchange with Kathryne to end so they could get back to your guidance. But suddenly, they began to feel themselves gaining control over their body.
...Wait.
... ... ...
Oh no...
...No...
No. No. No. No. NO! NO! NO! NO!
They know this feeling all too well. It was their least favorite part of the day.
...It was when you left Teyvat.
Just as their fears were confirmed, they gained control over their body again. Horrified, they quickly looked up at Celestia and prayed to the Archons that what was happening wasn't real.
Unfortunately, the light from Celestia came and went. [Y/N] was gone...
"Aww, already?" Paimon groaned, appearing out of thin air. "Paimon thought that [Y/N] would stay just a little bit longer."
The Traveler's eyes never left Celeste. They were holding on to the slim hope that the light returned. That [Y/N] would come right back and continue our adventures.
...But it never came.
"Hey, Traveler. Are you alright? You haven't moved in a while."
The Traveler finally took their eyes away from Celestia and sadly looked at Paimon. "I was so happy that [Y/N] came back. I was looking forward to spending all day with them. But in the end, they were only here for a few hours."
Paimon solemnly nodded. "Yeah, Paimon gets where you're coming from. But Paimon also says not to worry! It isn't often that [Y/N] leaves after completing the daily commissions. Maybe this is a one-time thing?"
The Traveler gave it some thought. They suppose that what Paimon is saying is true. There's no guarantee that this will happen again tomorrow.
Their mood picked up. "You're right, Paimon. Hopefully, we get to adventure with [Y/N] longer tomorrow."
Paimon smiled. "That's the spirit! Trust Paimon when she says that everything is going to be alright!"
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Time Skip
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...
... ...
... … …
...Three days...
It's been three days since [Y/N] first came back to Teyvat. They have since come back every day afterward.
...Three days...
It's been three days of completing commissions...
...And nothing else.
...Three days...
It's been three days since the Traveler realized that they were the only person [Y/N] used in their "adventure team".
They still remember how heartbroken Amber was when they met her.
"It wasn't something I did, was it?" she fretted with sorrowful eyes.
"Of course not!" they reassured, "You've done nothing wrong!"
However, they could tell that their words were not effective at uplifting the normally bright and cheerful outrider.
Now, [Y/N] was guiding them back to Kathryne again. Most likely the end of another day together.
... ... …
...No.
"I REFUSE!"
Going against [Y/N]'s guidance, they stopped in place. They were not going to let [Y/N] leave this time! They felt a couple of forceful nudges from [Y/N] but they were going to hold their ground for as long as it takes.
"No more commissions, [Y/N]. Let's go back to before. Explore Teyvat! Go fishing! Search for my sibling! Just don't leave again!"
...
... ...
... … …
...-hy?
..."Huh?"
"What di- ... -o?"
"Is that...?" they wondered.
"I thought ... was doing ... -thing right?"
"[Y/N]?"
"I've done all the things that match their preferences. I've removed all the people who have jobs that prioritize their duties over adventuring; I've been careful while fighting enemies; I've even been spending as little time as possible to conserve their energy. So why are they still unhappy?
...So that's what has been the issue.
They wanted to tell you everything that was on their mind. But they couldn't bypass the restriction placed upon them.
This restriction in particular involved speaking freely towards [Y/N]. From what they understand, they are never able to say anything while being guided by [Y/N]. Instead, Paimon does most of the talking.
They still don't know much about it.
"...Maybe I'm not cut out for this after all. I should've known better..."
They didn't need to be told what that meant for the future.
After hearing that last sentence, they fought as hard as they could to break the speaking restriction, to tell [Y/N] something, anything, to stop them from leaving.
When they gained the slightest control over their body, they shouted: "[Y/N]! Wait! Don't leave!"
However, it didn't appear that they even heard them. Furthermore, they instantly felt a painful shock rush through their body. Punishment for breaking the rules.
The shock brought them to the ground, and they were in too much pain to notice the light from Celeste. And from what they had to guess, potentially for the last time.
"Traveler!" Paimon screamed, immediately floating down to nudge their body. "Quick! Get up! Get up! We've got to do something or else [Y/N] will be gone forever!"
Slowly but steadily, the Traveler brought themselves to their feet. They felt more defeated than ever. "It's too late, Paimon... I couldn't stop [Y/N] from leaving... It's all my fault."
Paimon was quick to shake her head. "Don't say that! You already know that we've never been able to talk with [Y/N] in the past."
"That still doesn't change the fact that [Y/N] is probably gone forever. They're never coming back."
Paimon frowned. She hadn't seen the Traveler like this since they met their sibling with Dainsleif. But as much as she wanted to cheer the Traveler up, she needed to find a way to reach [Y/N]. She quickly used all of her brain juice to come up with a solution.
"Paimon has an idea! Why don’t we ask Zhongli for help? He did assist us last time.”
The Traveler let out a weak, sad chuckle. “I doubt even Zhongli would know what to do in this scenario.”
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"I may know something we can do."
"Really?!" "You do?!" Both Paimon and the Traveler exclaimed respectively.
They really should stop doubting the capabilities of this man.
"I have no guarantee that this will work," explained Zhongli, "but I'm curious to see the results. I believe you two are familiar with the adepti art 'dream trawling'?"
"Mhm," Paimon nodded, "We were with Xiao when he had us perform it."
"I see. That will make things easier to understand," Zhongli remarked, closing his eyes. "If [Y/N] won't come to Teyvat anymore..."
His eyes opened, filled to the brim with determination. "We'll simply have to extend them an invitation."
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Author Side Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. I was struggling with how I wanted to write this.
Additionally, I've felt like my writing is lacking with descriptors. I feel like I keep saying words like 'said', 'asked', and 'nodded' a lot, especially in the last chapter. I've gone back and edited as much of it as I could.
I want to do my best to write all of these characters so I feel pretty bad whenever I'm unable to properly describe a character's thoughts or emotions. Maybe it's something that I'll get better at as I continue writing.
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razzle-n-dazzle · 3 months
Note
Almost made Adam Headcanon Yandere? You need to do it!!
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ᯓ★ "Cus You're Mine, All Mine." (no shit I love you!) Yandere! Adam / Reader ignore my trying a little bit of a diff format
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ᯓ Yandere! Adam and regular Adam honestly have a lot of parrels, at least in my mind they do, but they also have some key differences. They're both quiet obsessive and possessive in their own rights, and they both try and hide it. Yet, while regular Adam will be the type to completely deny his habits, Yandere! Adam will be quiet proud of them. "It made you stay, no?" He would ask with a cheeky, wide spread smirk on his mask. He stood behind you, your reflects seen on the dead screen of the TV, as his hands rested on your shoulder before trailing down to wrap around your waist. You could feel the claws of his hands slowly trail down, almost like they were touching your bare skin when you knew better; They weren't, at least not in this second, and yet it still felt as intoxicating as when Adam's hands did trail on your bare skin. It was almost his way of claiming you as his, outside of fucking you, and his gentle yet firm touch always got you. Even as you swallowed down some silva that formed in your mouth out of some unquenched nerves in your stomach, you felt safe with Adam. Even if his grin, which now laid next to your face as Adam rested his chin on your vacant shoulder, was slightly unnerving as he admitted to a usually bad habit. "And if I can keep you away from everyone who would want to take you from me.." Adam's husk voice whispered in your ear, "Than I think I'm doing my fucking job right. Wouldn't you agree?"
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who just always happens to know where you'll be and is there waiting for you; Not like he stalks you, of course not (he doesn't have to do that anymore),he just always has a similar schedule! Not like it's creepy or anything, most of the time he just knows you are longing for his company (like he's longing for yours) or just wants to make sure you're safe! Which is a no brainer why Adam was currently sitting at a nearby table, watching as you and Azrael, the Angel of Death, got some smoothies at a nearby shop. Neither of you had noticed him yet, he had made sure of that. He didn't want Azrael, and his god forbidden good senses, to pick up on him as he followed you both from the court room; And he didn't want Azrael to pick up on him now. It wasn't like Adam didn't trust Azrael, he was an angel and you could be in much bigger danger (like hanging out with a demon in hell!). Yet, out of all the Angels, Adam always had an yucky feeling about Azrael; He was always rather quiet and solemn, keeping to himself, yet seemed just peachy chatting with you and hanging out with you and no one else. Public or not it just rubbed Adam the wrong way. He better not be trying anything. Everyone should see you in the light Adam does, but no one had the pleasure of taking you home other than him. And that was a fact, whether Azrael wanted to admit it or not.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who is somehow both egoistical and yet insecure, despite all the conflicts they provide. You can tell, after being around Adam for so long, when he gets jealous of other people you hang around. He'll never out right tell you, unless someone crosses a big line, but you can always see the slight scowl or pout on his lips, even behind the mask, and you get the hint to get to his side soon. Now, it's important to clarify, you go to his side out of free will, he's not dragging you there unless someone is touching you in ways they shouldn't; And even then, Adam is only dragging you back behind him and square punching the sucker in the face for even thinking they had the privilege to touch you! Adam will shit talk the guy who tried to get close to you when you come over him, saying how he was much better for several reasons (one being that he was the original dick, and thus he would always be better than any man or women) but would oddly enough point out things you didn't notice. Such as, the way they dressed, the way they carried themselves, their tone of voice, who they kept going to, and he would go on and on until your vision of that person is tainted. And he would snicker to himself as you sit down next to him, allowing him to drag you on his lap, as he knew he successfully managed to warrant away another competitor for your love.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who knew, since day one, he wanted you and only you. It made Lute a little disturbed how quickly Adam had catch your figure in the crowd and instantly began to ask questions about you. Lute was sure you had gotten to Heaven in that week, she hadn't seen you around before, and yet that didn't seem to deter Adam. "So, I figured out who that hot Babe was from yesterday," Adam would tell Lute the next day as they sat upon the council, waiting for the next hearing. Curious, and a tad amused (as she didn't believe him), Lute would roll her eyes and amuse him. "Oh, really?" She would mumble, resting her elbow on the railing and her cheek against her fist. "Who is she then?" And Lute was certain she almost fell off of her seat in shock when Adam began to list your name, the mortal age you died and how, when you got to heaven, where you were living in heaven, possible family members, and some basic information about what you liked and didn't and your current favorite place in Heaven. She was sure Adam had gone insane, at least until he noticed and quickly gave her a cover story: He simply had met you in one of his favorite lunch places and you began talking and you two just clicked.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who will never, ever, hurt you or anyone you care about yet take out his frustrations on the sinners of hell. Too many times have Lute had to watch, and listen, as Adam completely shredded through Sinners like they were nothing yet flies under his shoe while ranting about the last person you hang out with that got just a little too close. Lute was sure that if this kept up, Adam would not only violate some of the agreement terms that were laid with Lucifer, yet he would obliterate the overpopulation problem by killing the sinners, basically, single-handily. She wouldn't admit it yet it terrifies her a little how deep rooted Adam's love for you is, that she subconsciously began to distance herself from you just to not get on his shit list.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who, after a long day of work, wants nothing more than to come home and lay in your arms all comfortable; And who is surprised, when walking through his apartment door with his guitar in hand, to see you sitting in wait at the kitchen island. "Adam, Honey, you're home!" You would chirp, shuffling off the bar stool and rushing over to his side; Letting out a soft bit of laughter as you noticed his slightly shocked look. Gently, you would take his guitar from him, asking in your ever sweet voice how his day was and if he managed to help keep Heaven safe. He wasn't sure why you had such an effect on his heart like this, on his whole body. Your single touch made Adam feel more alive than he did when he had been alive. Your sweet voice was like music in his ears and a drug he could never get enough of. And fuck your lips, Adam was sure he could kiss them for ever if you would let him. And so, when you reached up to take his mask off him, he would stop you. You were perplexed, a little shocked, as Adam raised his hands up to cup over your hands once they cupped his cheeks. Yet, upon seeing his face, the way it relaxed almost instantly upon your touch, all you could do was smile softly up at him. "Honey, come on, let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me everything that happened.." You would whisper softly to him, coaxing him to come and rest his body after a long day of work. And how could he say no to his darling? After this lovely, warming welcome, Adam felt like he should be the one praising and giving you such attention you bask on him.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam who waits on foot and knee if you ever need him. Yandere! Adam who would do anything to keep you with him, and only for him. Yandere! Adam who has charmed most of your friends and family. Yandere! Adam who doesn't force you to do anything but might play with your thoughts a little to get his way. Yandere! Adam who loves you more than he ever loved Lilith and Eve and makes sure you know it. Yandere! Adam who thinks, and half believes, he doesn't deserve someone like you and is selfish for handing you all to himself. Yet, also in turn, Yandere! Adam who might just die or go insane if he cannot bask in your love and affection.
ᯓ Yandere! Adam.. oh boy do you have your hands full with having him as your lover.
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