#for some reason i've been. afraid. to try writing anything while i'm in this... weird state. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littledollll · 7 months

Note

hiiiii I love your agere fics with Luci so much and I was wondering if maybe you would be up to writing a fic with caregiver Brienne and little reader (preferably gender neutral with they/them pronouns if that's okay)? I haven't been able to find any on here (*ToT)

I was thinking something like a little night time thing with lots of comfort (and no big hurt please)

Maybe something like these but it's really fine if you don't use them I'd be happy either way really

https://www.tumblr.com/cg-pup/720860299458199552/come-here-sweetie-i-know-youve-been?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/corixal/710834902156935168/nighttime-smallness?source=share

I'm sorry this ask is so long I've never requested anything before and I know you don't really write much these days and it's really okay if this idea isn't something you like or feel comfortable with or really just don't have the inspiration for. If possible could I be 🦦 anon if you do maybe write this? Thank you bye bye

Small space

Brienne of Tarth x little!reader

A/n: I’ll be honest this had me a little stumped for some reason. I wasn’t sure how to try and make sense of it in the GOT universe and then kinda realized I don’t rly have to. Also trying to make all the cgs not act/be the same when I write them.

Warnings: tiniest mention of food (fruits), nothing else.

____________________________________

When you first introduced your ‘small space’, as you and Brienne decided to call it, you were afraid she was going to believe it was something odd, or weird. Which now that you think back on it, was a little foolish to think of for Brienne of all people.

You tend to do most your regressing at night, which was luckily the perfect time for Brienne to also be home and take care of you.

After a particularly long and exhausting day, you returned home to find out Brienne had actually arrived before you, which was something that happened rarely if ever.

She seemed to have already settled at home, being changed out of her usual armor and into more comfortable clothes.

Deciding to give her a bit of a surprise, you didn’t say anything as you walked into your home and snuck up behind her.

Brienne all the while knew you were coming up behind her. She noticed you the second you arrived home, after all no good knight would be so easy to sneak up on, but she let you have your fun with it regardless.

As you came up behind her, your arms wrapping around her torso. She feigned surprised, you knew, but loved it all the same. “Got you.”

“Sure you did. Come, let me give you a proper hug.” She spoke quietly, a precious smile on her face as she turned around and pulled you in close.

Immediately you melted into her embrace. Apparently it was more needed than you realized. She looked down to see you burying yourself against her, closing your eyes with a big sigh. And her eyes immediately softened.

Her strong arms wrapped ever so gently around you, keeping you warm and close. “little one.. are you tired? do you think we should get you all ready for bed?”

It was like she could read your mind. Instantly, your head shot up to look at her as you nodded quickly, remaining clingy at her side. Brienne always found it adorable when you acted like this. Of course she wasn’t glad you were feeling tired or drained, but as long as she could help it would be all okay.

She made quick work of getting your sleepy self all ready for bed. Firstly helping you change into more comfortable clothes, lending you some of her own, which fit you like a gown. Something you both loved because it made you feel even smaller.

She sighed, remembering one thing and going out of your view for a moment, “just one second, my darling. I’m missing something.” leaving you to worry and pout over her absence. After she took longer than just two minutes to come back, you stubbornly decided to follow after her. You caught her mid-way as she was already on her way back with a small plate of fruits! Your absolute favorites too.

“You don’t have to have them all, but at least a few. Just so you have something in your tummy before sleep.” She offered gently. Her sweet behavior was always quick to convince you. Plus, how could you miss out on your favorites?

You happily nodded and took the plate, with a cheerful, “Thanks you mama!” Making her smile.

Every passing minute Brienne took notice of your sleepy state. How you’d gently rub your eyes even when she constantly insisted you didn’t because it could hurt your eyes, how you seemed zoned out as you watched her scurrying around to get everything ready for bed just perfect so you could rest with ease.

After a few minutes you were all done and even sleepier than before. Brienne was quick to put the plate away and pick you up, bringing you into bed.

“Tough day, wasn’t it, my princess?” She asks softly as she sits on the bed and pulls you into her arms again.

Nodding, you quickly cuddled yourself up as close to her as you possibly could. Feeling completely safe and protected in her arms.

“It’s alright now… I’ve got you, and I’ll make sure my little one sleeps soundly.” She said as her hands gently brushed through your hair, helping you to sleep. It didn’t take long at all, given how tired you already were.

As she watched over you, half her mind was nagging her, maybe she should’ve asked more about your day, rather than letting you just leave it at the fact it was exhausting. On the other hand, maybe it’s a conversation best left for later, when you’re well rested and feeling older.

But every bit of that worry slips as she looks down at your restful self once again. Brienne smiles softly as she sees you so peacefully drifted off to sleep in her arms. She made the right choice.

#🦦 anon #brienne x little!reader #gwendoline christie #got brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth fluff #game of thrones brienne

121 notes · View notes

paradoxcase · 8 months

Text

Chapter 25 of Harrow the Ninth

So, the Nook app has decided that now it's going to open on my bigger monitor, which is a bit annoying, since I can't browse the book and write the tumblr post at the same time, but since it doesn't have a windowed mode I'm not sure how to switch it back to my laptop

Ok, never mind, while I was writing that, the Nook app crashed again, and when I re-opened it it opened on my laptop

Aroace rep, but from the character whose main role in the story so far is that he's trying to kill the protagonist for no reason?

Although, speaking of Pyrrha, who we so far don't know anything about except that she was Gideon's cavalier, since Gideon the First is a regular Lyctor he must also be Pyrrha on some level, so possibly some of his odd actions are actually Pyrrha's actions, or are because of Pyrrha in some way, and that's why John thinks they are out of character for Gideon

I guess it could be technically possible that Harrow hallucinated that whole thing, but honestly, it would be boring if all of the weird stuff in this book turns out to be a baseless hallucination. I guess the mystery part of this book is figuring out how much of this Cytherea-related stuff is hallucinations and how much is real

So I guess this means that on the fourth or maybe last day of this ultimatum, Harrow will make Ianthe a bone arm and this problem will be solved?

I can't decide if Ianthe has some sort of Plan to get Harrow to make her a bone arm, or if pretending like she doesn't care is just her way of coping

So Ianthe burns the onions (or at least she says she does) and Harrow just doesn't cook them at all. Also, I get that Harrow wouldn't be familiar with brightly colored vegetables, but wouldn't she also not be familiar with brightly colored candy? Even if they had candy on the Ninth, candy is made in bright colors because people expect good food to be bright colors and that makes the candy look more appetizing. If denizens of the Ninth are not used to brightly-colored food, it doesn't make sense that they'd have brightly colored candy, either

So, I mean, everyone disliked or hated this soup, and we've heard previously that Lyctors don't actually need to eat. I can see the others eating the soup to be polite, but Gideon the First has kind of crossed the line where politeness is going to have any effect by repeatedly trying to kill her. So why did he eat the soup?

Beautiful. If I've understood what John has said about Lyctor mortality well enough, I think he shouldn't have been able to survive this if John hadn't magicked him better, even if I'm wrong and he has no trouble with the necromancy part of Lyctorhood

Please, John, tell us about the last time you ate human being

Unless he's just talking about when Cassiopeia cut off her finger while cooking?

This is a really odd reaction to finding out that Harrow can't sleep for fear of Gideon the First so she is trying to kill him so she can live a normal life? Like, she is his Lyctor, she is blindly devoted to him, he should be pleased that she is this capable in the face of this impossible situation, especially if he really doesn't want Gideon to kill her, because her being capable means she would be better able to protect herself. I wonder if he also is afraid of her hurting him for some reason, for the same reason Gideon the First is? And Mercy's job was not so much to teach her as to do surveillance? Only, if he considered her a legitimate threat, I'm sure he could have just killed her himself at any point, right? Maybe that would wreck the persona of a kindly god that he's projecting, but I almost feel like he could get away with justifying anything at this point. And he asked Mercy if they could put her in the room with him when they fought Number Seven, and Mercy pointed out that that would kill her, there's no way he could have not known that, right?

Also, I'm amused that every time Mercy talks about how young Harrow is, the age gets younger and younger. But her horror that Harrow is so young has definitely made her underestimate her

So I guess this incident reminded Augustine of one of the dead Lyctors? Or Anastasia

Or: "Yeah, that's fair"

Now I'm interested to see if he gets some more characterization in the future

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth

20 notes · View notes

princesscolumbia · 6 months

Text

Return to Recipient - A Ranma 1/2 fanfic

Summary:

Ranma hasn't been feeling right for as long as he can remember, and he just figured that's normal. But after Jusenkyo, and especially after Jusendo, the feeling of "wrongness" has been getting more and more noticeable... ...because he doesn't feel it in his cursed form. He continues to just cope, keeping his struggle to himself, until he finds a letter tucked into his old travel pack addressed to him, written by him, from a 48 hour period that he doesn't remember and nobody will talk to him about.

Notes:

During the writing of 🔞 And at This Point I'm Afraid to Ask 🔞, I realized I was speed-running Ranma's egg-to-hatched trans journey and made an author's note of that. In the comments for that work, I got a note bemoaning the fact that I didn't spend more time on Ranma's realization, coming out, and social transition as a woman while understanding my reasoning. I replied stating that I needed a good hook, something that hadn't been hammered to death by other authors, and at the time I didn't have anything. I really got it in my head that I should do something, so I posted to Tumblr and started putting it out to the universe that I was Poly Transwoman Author Seeking Story Inspiration and Motivation, in Open Relationship with current WIPs. I was scrolling through the "Ranma 1/2" tag this morning trying to find something I hadn't read when I bumped into Dear Diary by JaquiK. I've read it, of course, and it's short and, for what it sets out to do, good. "Feels like it needs more," says I, "Wish the author would continue it, make something more of it than they did." The little author that lives in my head rent free and looks remarkably like Ranma-chan ran up behind me and socked me in the back of my head, "Dummy! There's your plot hook!" Then she backed a dump truck up and dropped about 3/4 of a story's worth of ideas on me. With the 2023 holidays in full swing (it's Cyber Monday as I type this) I'm not sure how quickly I'll get to outlining this or getting chapters 2-5 out (my personal metric for whether the author is serious about a work is if they have 5 chapters out. This has been a solid rule of thumb for long-form fiction and hasn't failed me regardless of fandom), but I wanted to get at least chapter 1 out as quickly as possible. Tags will be added as I add more chapters, mostly because my writing process means I'm not sure what tags will apply until I'm writing something that necessitates them. 😋 I hope you enjoy it.

Preview below the cut

He had opened it and read the letter. Halfway through he realized he was shaking and that was when he'd vacated to the roof. He finished reading it fairly quickly, read it again, and then again. He was sure it was a fake of some sort at first, but it was like there was a voice in the back of his head telling him it was the genuine article. Not a 'voice,' per se, but like he could hear it in his girl-form's voice as he read it, like a memory of her reading it to herself after she'd written it to make sure it made sense. After, he'd sat there for nearly half an hour, watching as the sky turned deeper blue in anticipation of the sunset. Sighing for reasons he couldn't articulate yet, he looked at the top of the paper, noting the date again. It'd been written months earlier, on a day that was a big gap in Ranma's memory. This wasn't unusual for him, of course, his memory was notoriously spotty. This particular gap stood out, however, because he hadn't been able to tease the memory out no matter how he worked it, and everyone in the house behaved...weird whenever he asked about it. That more than anything told him that whatever had happened was significant enough the be memorable...about a time he had no memory.

He read the letter again,

Dear Ranma Saotome, I hope quite sincerely that you never find this letter, that you won't ever need to find it because you won't have come back. That sounds awful, but if you're back, then that means that I'm gone. I woke up this morning, and for once in my life I felt right. I didn't realize until it'd been explained to me by Akane that I didn't belong. I'm somehow in your body, awake and alive and able to be just me, and all thanks to Jusenkyo. And, apparently, a smack on the head with a pan. I love Akane, but she has such a temper. And I do feel ALIVE. I have your memories, but they're so...cloudy, so dark and hazy. When I make myself remember them, it's like a layer of shadow and pain is over all of them. It hurt so much to be you that I can understand why you hid away and I came out. Your body makes me feel wrong. I don't know what it means, how it happened or why I'm here. I think maybe a doctor might be able to help, but then we'd have to explain about the...'curse.' I don't like calling it a curse, that would mean it was bad. For me, it's not. It's wonderful and beautiful and it means I get to exist in a body that doesn't make me feel like I'm wrong. Uncle Tendo splashed me with hot water and turned me into a boy, and it was horrible. I wanted to climb out of my skin to make the wrongness stop. Don't get me wrong, I understand that you're quite handsome, in another world I could probably see you and consider you a fine catch, maybe even try to make you my husband somehow. But to be wearing your body felt like looking down and seeing a

At this point there were several attempts to write a kanji, each attempt being scratched out with the pen. Finally, the writer of the letter managed to put down what they were trying to say;

cat and not being able to get away from it. Being a boy felt horrible and wrong. You're welcome to it, I never could. In case I haven't made it clear, I'm a woman. Well, I suppose I'm still a girl, but I'm growing up to be a woman and I have dreams of being like big sis Kasumi and keeping a nice house and getting flowers, maybe planting a garden. I want to be married, but I guess I haven't grown up enough yet, because I don't think I like boys yet. I keep imagining a future where I'm married and being a housewife, but all I can see as a 'husband' is Akane. Isn't that silly? She's a tomboy, but she's not that much of a boy! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o In case you do read this letter, take care of Akane. She took good care of me today, even though it was very obvious she missed you terribly. I'm writing this in our room as I'm trying to sleep, hoping that it will help with my racing thoughts and the feeling of loneliness; father is refusing to sleep in the room, he considers me disgraceful. I find without someone else around I cannot sleep. I imagine that's because, from what I remember, that's the only life you've ever known, and technically you and I are the same person. If you are reading this, then I'm gone. Please find a way to stop that awful pain you carry with you. I experienced it for only a few hours, you've had it for your entire life. As strong as you are, as much of a martial artist as everyone says, I can only imagine that much pain will break you someday. Love, Ranma Saotome

Pain... thought Ranma. She called it pain.

Read the whole thing on AO3

#fanfiction #fanfic #nanowrimo #note to self #egg cracking moment #trans female character #transgender #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbtq+#ranma ½ #ranma #ranma saotome #ranma 1/2 #tofu ono #doctor tofu #doc tofu

14 notes · View notes

scriptlgbt · 1 year

Note

I'm writing a story and I'd like to how trans people get/treat STDs. If they haven't had bottom surgery is it no different than someone with those parts who is cis? But if they have, what differences are there? How about someone with no genitals?

In general it's pretty much the same as it would be for cis people. Bloodwork and a urine sample are the standard, and aren't really any different based on what someone's genitalia is like.

Pap smears and other sorts of exams can be dysphoria inducing as well, and there's some situation where it may be difficult to use a speculum because of atrophy (which can be for all sorts of reasons, hormones, vaginismus, imperforate hymen, intersex stuff). And people whose vaginas are surgically constructed don't typically have a cervix, so pap smears don't really get done as far as I know. (Sometimes speculums are used for other things though, like making sure everything is healing right, trimming or removing stitches from surgery, etc.)

But for the most part, the differences for STI testing specifically are mostly social, and can go different ways based on who is administering the test. Pap smears are in particular stressful for trans people who may have genitalia that's been altered by hormones. (I know it's irrational but the worry about getting a boner during a pap test, for instance, has crossed my mind a lot.)

Some other testing can be thrown for a loop because of the way procedure etiquette works. I had to have a transvaginal ultrasound once to check for ovarian cysts and there were definitely parts of it that were weird for me. (Transvaginal ultrasounds involve the ultrasound wand going inside the front hole for an accurate reading of specific parts of the reproductive system.) For instance, the ultrasound tech was a cis man and as part of their protocol, a cis woman nurse had to be in the room while I underwent this procedure. I hadn't asked about that ahead of time or really thought anything about it - I was in the emergency room trying to get to the bottom of extreme abdominal pain and I figured I could endure what I needed to. But in an ideal world, I'd be able to ask for a non cis person to be in the room with me I think. (I came in an ambulance, which would not take my partner with me.) (It turned out to be a 4mm kidney stone by the way, no ovarian cysts.)

Another anecdote that may be relevant to this topic is that sometimes doctors get weird about not knowing what you're testing for, because they don't know what body parts you have (and which were added at what points, made of what material). Prior to the transvaginal ultrasound, a doctor asked me what "chromosomes" I had. I honestly told him I did not know, I hadn't ever had a karyotype test as far as I knew. The doctor stumbled over himself a lot and I don't remember what else he said right after that, other than he was fumbling, got corrected, and that he was clearly Trying His Best. I interrupted the second or third useless question with, "are you asking if I have ovaries in case it might be a burst ovarian cyst or something?"

He was instantly relieved and said yes, so I told him.

There's a big problem I've noticed, that when people talk about these sorts of topics, they aren't specific enough in order to address what they mean. We use euphemisms like "assigned female" because people don't know that someone "assigned female" can have literally any body type. People seem afraid to name body parts, so they use euphemisms that rely on stereotypes and assumptions in order to be understood. But when you realize that people "assigned female" can be intersex, can have hysterectomies, can have testes, can have phalloplasties, and that everyone's parts are more or less analogous (skenes gland = prostate, etc), you realize how useless these broad categories are. If you want to ask if someone could carry a pregnancy, ask if they could carry a pregnancy. Not if they have certain chromosomes or were DFAB. Specifics matter. If I knew I was XY, that doctor would probably have assumed that the pattern of people with XY chromosomes not menstruating would include me. And if I did have ovarian cysts, or even a pregnancy, this could have dramatically impacted my health outcomes. (There have been stillbirths because of situations like this where people did not act fast enough because of ignorance around trans bodies.) I could have given in and guessed my chromosomes when the doctor asked, but what if my answer turned out to not be true? And what if the lack of confidence in my answer saved my life in some way?

I realize this is pretty far deviated from your original topic, but in terms of testing difficulties, it does feel like the sort of anecdote that would be very informative about these issues.

- mod nat

#mod nat #trans #writeblr #writing advice #reproductive care #reproductive health #reproductive freedom #pregnancy and reproductive #reproductive autonomy #doctors #medical #trans: medical #trans: bodies #hey don't plagiarize my life by the way #I feel like this should go without saying but someone sent an ask some years ago wanting to ask about my child abuse experience #for their writing. and it just felt really uncozy because this is not ScriptTrauma or ScriptTorture and I didn't sign up for that #just because I share a thing to illustrate a concept does not make it your writing material #it's just an example. plus I'm going to write about it myself. get yer own life experiences to write about etc

30 notes · View notes

darkkitty1208 · 2 months

Text

Sooooo. Hi. I'm back from the dead.

Some updates for if anyone is interested at all (under cut for those who, well, are not):

IRL is not doing Super Great but it could be worse and thankfully it isn't. The Horrors persist but so do I

I've been at a low the past few weeks (emotionally and err, otherwise) and have been generally lethargic lately but I'm building myself back up and that's all that matters, I think. Otherwise I am doing pretty fine :v

I think part of the reason why I've been so afraid to come back on here is because I felt the need (not pressure, just like, an incessant urge) to create more fics to post and share. And I know there's no real pressure here and if anything I write for myself, but still. The feeling is there.

Speaking of which: I've been distancing myself from writing these days and I wasn't exactly sure why, and it took me a while to understand why I was reacting that way. So creating and writing for me requires a feeling of creative fulfillment and I've been lacking that lately. These days all I've been doing is writing out prompts and barely putting in the effort to write anything substantial or, yk. Something I can be passionate about or proud and satisfied of. Not that I wasn't enjoying it, there's still several works I'm proud of and loved writing like the Stephen healing arc fic from about a month or so ago, but I needed to feel like it was less an obligation and more like how I intended it to be: a fun, no-pressure, enjoyable hobby. I'm gonna be directing my works towards that now and focus on how *I* feel about it first before others. (For a long time I thought I understood that well enough to actually do it, but dear god is it easier said than done. Been writing for I think nearly 4 years now and I still struggle with this for some reason. Ugh. The brain can be weird sometimes.)

But anyway; I am not quitting, I will keep writing, I'm sorry I was gone for so long and without warning (again) xP

Also. I cut my thumb by accident with a knife (I was slicing an apple, I do not like the skin of apples) the other day and it is Not ideal. Typing this out on mobile and by thumbs is Not a great idea. Ouchies. Another reason I haven't been writing.

Anyway. That's probably everything. For now I'll try to catch up on all the things I've missed while gone! :D

#ALSO I'VE MISSED YOU ALL SMMMM <333 #sorry friends I've kept hanging for a while 😬#personal

4 notes · View notes

swanimagines · 2 months

Text

About BatBP schedules for those interested (and an explanation why I've been so absent/slow to publish new stuff):

I've tried to decide what is the best option for a while now. I want BatBP/Bastard and the Blood Princess readers to know when will the next chapter be published as it has gotten an influx of readers and it no longer is a "whatever, no one cares" situation, so I've decided to publish three requests before each BatBP chapter. I've posted only BatBP since last August, minus the Gideon piece in January and Peeta yesterday, so I think it's time to start doing my requests again properly. This means I have 2 oneshots to post before the next BatBP chapter, as The Favourite (Gideon) was posted about two weeks before Chapter 8 of BatBP (can't check because AO3 is under maintentance).

Also a reminder that from that pile of fics I posted here a month ago were posted on AO3 last year, so they weren't "new" and I don't write new stuff fast enough to be able to post daily, or usually even weekly. I recently came back to cross-post here, which is why I posted all that.

This became long, so more below:

Also I know a lot of you are waiting for my new SaB pieces/oneshots, I've been staying away from those because of BatBP but now I may be doing them too again as I'm intending to do my requests semi-regularly as well. Though I will be filling my requests for my other fandoms too, and I don't plan on doing what I did last year, 80% of my published content being either for SaB or one of Freddy's characters (not Kaz).

I have a few reasons for why I've been slow, one reason being that a thing our family has been afraid of for years is now finally happening. Another reason being that I've moved away from where I lived in previously, and a lot of overwhelming stuff has been on the table since this year began because of it as I'm expected to do and be more than I was, despite being incredibly stressed and overwhelmed all the time. And this takes away from my energy to write anything. Requests, BatBP, stuff I write for myself only, I haven't written anything for months, only proofread and edited stuff that was already written and waiting to be published, and there's a bunch of that waiting for me to proofread/edit to be published next.

I don't want to vent about my personal life in detail anymore here, but I hope you will understand that my life is very stressful right now and I'm trying my best to go through your requests, but I'm not a Superwoman and I've learned to set myself a limit so I won't burn out again. And yes, I know there are a lot of writers who publish long pieces daily, every other day, several times a week, and some of you throw me with usernames and compare me to them, and then get back to me with a frustrated message when I don't answer because I don't want to pull them into any drama. Especially when some of them are my ex-friends from when I still was one of the "main" group.

Also I do have one half-excuse why I haven't been writing much after coming back from the con. I feel slightly weird of writing for Freddy's characters/proofreading my finished pieces for them rn because I got to talk to him and hug him a month ago, and I'm still recovering from that shock 😅 Which is also one of the reasons I haven't written anything new for them. But I'm training myself back into it, because I do feel incredibly motivated and inspired to write 100001 pieces for them at one sitting.

But yeah! This was the thing I wanted to talk about, thank you for reading this far. I possibly have a new piece coming tomorrow or over the weekend, I just need to sort my ready to publish requests out and decide which one I'll publish next 👍🏻 (Gotta go to shower and sleep in an hour so can't choose now)

#kaz brekker x reader #the bastard and the blood princess #jentalks

2 notes · View notes

rainbowvolt · 10 months

Note

I tried this once already but out of nowhere I got attacked by the overwhelming notion that my antics are pointless and that the world around me is crumbling and so I deleted the entire message and took some time to journal out my feelings in the classic rambling poetry style that I have perfected over the years. It didn't make me feel better nor did it provide any fresh prospective but I'm feeling better today so I came to the conclusion that if nothing matters then I'm going to go back to inviting just a little bit of chaos into the everyday lives of people I have never met just because at least im having fun that way. That being said, what the fuck is up gamer? I put on some sublime to write this one to bit now amazon music is playing beck (loser) but I actually really like that song so I'll allow it. Anyway I was on hinge the other day, because just like you I am chronically single, and unlike you I do care because being alone with my thoughts for too long drives me insane and to do shit like this for fun. So I'm swiping and I'm complimenting I mean just imagine me turning on the God damn charm, and I match with this one girl who I think is attractive and we're chatting it up and suddenly bam, no reason at all, I lose all interest. I just felt like it was pointless to even keep talking to her my heart just wasn't in it so I did, I stopped. I probably still could hit her up if I wanted but the truth is it's just a lot of work, relationships that is, and I don't think I have the time to dedicate someone that I want to be able to dedicate. It's weird. Life. Love. Happiness. I try to remind myself that happiness, at least the way that we see in happily ever after movies and books, doesn't really exist. The best you I can ever hope for is to be content. And I'm not sure if that's true or if that's pure unfiltered copium that I'm doling out to myself on a strict rationing schedule so I can make it through the throes of years long depressive episodes. I've considered therapy but whats a therapist going to tell me? Oh you're unhappy for literally no reason, just take these pills? I've done that ya know, the pills didn't make me happy they just made me numb to the world around me and incapable of emotions. Plus my job would kick me out onto the streets if I sought out help, I already got a waiver for it the one time and if I get back on them I'm afraid it'll be game over for my career. So I guess I'm kinda screwing the pooch here. It's always like that, coin tosses and horse races I guess. I just want to break free. I don't know if that'll solve it all, but I want the option to at least seek it out. I used to believe, genuinely, without an ounce of fucking irony that my depressive thoughts and feelings, and my borderline schizophrenic tendencies were genuine fucking shortcuts to creativity. I would sit there and really channel them into my poetry, but you know what? While some of that shit is undoubtedly the best I ever wrote, it wasn't because mental illness is some sort of magical potion, it's not because hurt and pain breeds greatness, it's because I was just being truthful I think, as raw and true as I could possibly be. And I've read some of it to people ya know, like my mom and a few friends, and they just say it's so good and I guess I appreciate their support but it's not good, it's bad ya know, i was trying to share a piece of me that i rarely let anyone see and I guess people just saw it as a piece without the deep emotional relationship that it has to my psyche, maybe I gotta specify like hey this is real shit. But ya know I've also been trying to breed a mental positivity, I try to tell myself good job and "hell yeah dude" for anything that could be considered an accomplishment. I wouldn't say it's the most effective but maybe it's doing a little something. This whole self awareness thing is kinda new to me, obviously, like I seriously lived the first 8 years of my life without a single thought, I remember like watching TV or having a conversation and it was just static upstairs.

Which is kinda funny actually cause now all I fucking do is think. Ugh. To be a frog. A mindless bug eating happy little frog. Those guys have got it made. Love frogs. A ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark and disappointing world. That and when people say bazinga. That shit is hilarious. Also, you have to say bazinga, that's the whole point of this. We've established a raport and now I'm cashing in pal, you gotta say bazinga, you owe me. And if you don't I'm reporting you to PepsiCo. They will bottle and carbonate your ass. You'll be sold worldwide. I wouldn't risk it just fucking say bazinga. I'm dialing them right now, doot doot doot look I've only got a few numbers left last chance bud

I, an autistic person who is currently wearing a flash t shirt, have been asked to say.. that word. Irony aside.. no. I'm not falling for your silly tricks, your insightful-incel Seinfeld style stand up routine, and so.. I turn it back on you. You have to say 'wubba lubba dub dub'. I'm exchanging all my favours, my coupons are going straight in to this uncomfortably shaped vending machine and my goodness something better come out. It's time to make good on your reputation, time to come forth and fulfil your destiny, to do what must be done; it's time to whip out a test tube or two to help Frankenstein some confidence into that ugly little lump of brain mass and say the damn words. Say. The damn. Words. Wubba lubba dub dub.

#i love this #it reads like Seinfeld but interesting instead of mildly offensive

4 notes · View notes

bunny-lou · 2 years

Note

So far, you’ve been the only person I’ve seen who has actually captured The Grabber’s whole character. And who he is and what he is and does. Without straying from any of it. While personally not a fan of reading such things, as I’m sure others would agree. I’m beyond impressed with how creepy you made it without being afraid to go where you had to. And I’m very happy to see someone not only not write some weird obsessed fic but actually take the characters for what they were and intended to be.

Warnings for a discussion of a film called The Black Phone, which deals with a young boy being abducted and abused by a much older man.

I was soooo nervous about posting this, so thank you for reaching out to me. I've had a very difficult relationship with writing lately and I'm trying to grasp on to anything that sparks a desire to flesh out a story and characters.

I found the Grabber fascinating as we never get clarification on why he does what he does. There are scenes that point to it being sexual perversion (he is partially undressed as he waits with a belt at the top of the stairs, his line of "I'll never do anything that you don't like"), but it's never confirmed (he never tries anything with Finney, none of the past victims mention anything sexual, the police never go that angle).

I've seen a theory floating around that the Grabber envies childhood innocence and wants to capture it and preserve it in his basement. Theories of him being abused or having a rough childhood that create this desire to reclaim an innocence that was taken from him.

I think his motive is a little bit of both. The Grabber is creepy and an abuser and he's obsessive with Finney (watching him sleep, wanting Finney to tell him his name) and that's the route I wanted to take. The Grabber wants a reason to punish Finney (evident in the game Naughty Boy) but also says Finney is special and he wants Finney to want the things he does. At the same time, I saw Finney as needing to do whatever he needed to survive so that Robin's death was not in vain - Finney won't be killed the way his friend and all those other boys were. Finney will survive, even if that means he won't get to live.

This dark and heavy material is not for everyone, which is why I put a lot of warnings in that post and on here. Everyone should be safe in their fandom and know full well what a fic is before they consent to reading it.

Thank you very much for reaching out and enjoying it. I was so nervous to post this because of my own hiatus from writing lately, but also the dark themes. It means a lot that you took the time to read and say something!

If anyone is interested in reading my little (unedited) piece, check it out here and please heed the warnings.

#the black phone #the grabber #finney shaw #robin arrelano #asks #anonymous

41 notes · View notes

mannatea · 10 months

Text

I did a little more outlining for the next parts of the story; hoping to have either more scenes outlined by Friday night or actually written, but I'd like to mentally have the rest of the story kind of lined up and ready to work toward this weekend.

I'm a little afraid if I don't outline it a bit more strictly than the vague stuff I have that I'll end up wandering (as evidenced by an entire scene I wrote yesterday—though it could be argued it's useful to the story it also just sort of happened). Obviously I don't want anything I write to feel too scripted, but I also want to avoid meandering (because that's when things start getting boring).

In happier news, I'm quite happy with working on just one story at a time. Historically I'd often work on many at a time, and all that ended up doing was burning me out (ping-ponging of attention and shifting gears regularly + trying to keep track of multiple big projects was exhausting). Letting myself work on one long story at a time while I allow myself the ability to write the occasional one-shot has been working out surprisingly well. Like right now, I don't even want to write anything but the story I'm currently working on...which could not have been me in 2007 or 2010 or even 2016.

I did briefly consider taking ToS prompts on my sideblog when this story is done but I'm a bit worried I'll suck at it for some reason. Bizarre frame of mind to be in because I know most prompts I wrote for people in the SnK fandom were very well received by everyone, but IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEN & this year started I've been mostly just writing what I want to see. Maybe I'll have to do a prompt form that is vague enough I feel I still have good control over things...or one of those "have people write a sentence and incorporate it into the fic" type things. My original prompt idea I was going to do was the good ol "5 times X, 1 time Y" type of format, because I dearly miss writing those, but eh. Things to chew on.

(I also have a few old FE pieces I need to rewrite, including this weird one about Mark from FE7 that was not well received when I posted it initially, just because.)

#we'll see how i'm feeling when this story is done i guess #the finish line is more or less in sight already

2 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years

Note

you most definitely do not need to answer this if you're not comfortable (or just don't want to), but i saw you say you had grown somewhat resentful of the same mistakes universe and i was curious as to why. i am not personally a writer, but i have a fair amount of friends who are and i have seen similar things happen to them with stories they had put tons of time and effort into, for a variety of different reasons. i know a lot of authors struggle with not getting much interaction on fics, and i can imagine putting something out there that you are proud of and spent a lot of time on and then not hearing anything can feel super disappointing, and also a bit like just chucking your stuff into a void??? i know some other friends of mine have stopped writing because the fandom itself sucked and they were getting weird pointless hate for no reason.

I am definitely sad you've ended/taken a long break from the series, because it's clear you put a ton of time, effort, and care into the same mistakes series, and you developed a character that was deeply nuanced and unique, but also youre doing it all for free and for fun (ideally) so you don't owe anyone anything. I'm for sure rambling at this point but basically i have loved reading the series and i hope somewhere down the line you can start writing again for fun and for yourself!

hey!! i am more than happy to talk about this and the only reason I haven't until now because I wasn't sure anyone really cared and I didn't want it to be misconstrued as whining or ungratefulness. this is probably more of an answer than you were looking for but here we go...

before i came into the top gun fandom, I was very used to chucking my things into the void, as you said. some of my umbrella academy stuff got attention, but aside from a few key mutuals, there wasn't a whole lot. and I was okay with it because I was writing for me and no one else.

and then the og same mistakes trilogy caused my blog to blow up and I was very overwhelmed with the extraordinary overnight attention everything was getting. i went from nothing to so much scrutiny I didn't know what to do. I've gotten to meet and talk to wonderful people because of it, but I've also been subject to some pretty awful hate because of it too. and it never stopped. it just kept getting worse. there was a lot of pressure to deliver consistently and constantly and I felt like no matter what I wrote, I was never appeasing someone. there was always someone who didn't like it and wasn't afraid to tell me so.

ultimately i became resentful because if i never wrote same mistakes, then my blog never would've blown up and i'd never have gotten so much hate. i'd still be writing for me and not judging everything i write before it gets out onto the page. i try to remind myself that i never would've met so many amazing people but that stopped being enough after a little while. when I saw others writing amazing things and get the responses they absolutely deserved while I was being tagged in specific posts for writing things that had overused tropes, I started to wonder what I was doing wrong that I couldn't seem to appease anyone. why it wasn't good enough.

i sort of thought that if i took a step back and focused on other projects, like storm warning and flight risk, things would figure themselves out and the hate would die down and I could come back to same mistakes-verse. uhm, things didn't calm down. the hate didn't stop, as people started taking shots at these other projects (specifically flight risk) and my lack of faith in my writing started extending into my academics.

i've always been pretty proud of my academic writing, and as a historian, it's all I have. but when everyone online is telling you it's shit, and has been telling you that since June, it's hard not to view that for all of your writing. i already feel insecure in my field because I'm still new and honestly this was the last thing I needed.

so i decided to take a step back from all creative writing because it stopped being fun and it stopped being for me and I started hating everything I wrote because I knew no one would like it anyways. i hope it starts being fun again because I miss it and I want to come back to Rebel and Sunshine and Cowgirl and Carolina and all the characters that I love deeply but I don't know when or if that will happen.

#kylie answers #i overshared WHOOPS #same mistakes

15 notes · View notes

beeindaclouds · 2 years

Note

TW Death (Not sure if this counts as a vent?) ( very(?) long) So before I found out the news about technoblade's passing I was reading a webtoon about his c! character, until I went to Tumblr that's when I saw someone I follow saying techno passed and anon asking "Wait technoblade dead?". Then I went on youtube to see the "So long nerds" video and as soon as I heard "if you're seeing this I'm dead" I started crying. Cried through the whole video, and went on Twitter (for comfort/ to see if it really was true) and cried some more. I tried watching youtube but it didn't make me feel any better so I went to bed putting Heartaches by al bowlly and read some manga. (so i pretty much cried myself to sleep). The next day I cried some more while going through Twitter and reading the messages all the CCs wrote. I went to Wattpad to see if any of the persons who wrote for him heard about the news and when I clicked on one of the books I read it put me on a page all about c!technoblade. I was pretty much on Twitter and TikTok seeing how people took the news for just any sort of comfort. Later when I went out and there was no wifi I went on Tumblr and it had an open tab that was a c! techno design and almost started to cry again. But one thing I realized was the fact that I didn't feel as bad later in the day of yesterday cause techno is no longer in pain. It still feels weird to view things about his character and imagining all the c!sbi/p things with him and my oc. Cause I tell the only reason I really got a Tumblr account was for looking at things about techno character. Whether it be his character or not I love/p this man so much and it's been a long while since I cried for somebody and it hurt me really bad but I've accepted he's gone and yes it feels weird/wrong to look at things about his character but I feel like techno wouldn't want us to stop making things about him because he cares about us and his appreciates the work we make of him. One of my biggest regrets was the fact that I never did fanart for him, I always wanted to but looking at other people's designs for him mine always never looked right. So I'm gonna try to make some fanart for him even if its to late. And one more thing to every here including you mother its ok to feel sad its ok to want to stop writing for techno, and drawing art for him out of respect. It's ok if you want to continue doing all those things above or move on to something else. Just know that technoblade never dies as long as he is in our hearts. So take as much time as you need to grieve, and try to look on the brighter side of things. Personally, it's gonna taken a while for me to view anything about techno without feeling weird, the same for others but that's ok. So I'm wishing everyone a great day-no a great life and I know we can all get through this together. (sorry if this is to long.) Also if is one post about some saying no more 4/4 sbi I'm gone-

This might be the longest ask I've ever had haha- but I agree with you completely on everything.

I've already lost 2 uncles, but because of covid, so I kind of knew how to brace the impact even if it still was pretty heart wrenching. But it's always the thought of "He's in a better place" that brings me joy

I feel like it's never too late to start making stuff about Technoblade. I know he would appreciate and love every single thing we make for him, as long as it respects his boundaries, so don't be afraid to start making stuff whenever you're ready ^^

#beeblogs #beeanswers

8 notes · View notes

mikey180 · 2 years

Text

Bam x reader

Type- angst with comfort

Are you upset with me?

I have been friends with Bam for awhile now since my sister Endorsi decided to introduce me to him, but after awhile I started to feel weird around him. The way that his golden eye would stare in to mine, I felt like he could see evey part of me. The innocence he held on to, has my heart pounding. Every time he leans into my touch, wether I'm just getting something off his face or fixing his hair. I always found myself wanting to protect him. To keep him safe. To make sure he felt wanted, needed, important, but now I want more, I want to make him feels loved.

Khun decided that all of us should take a break so we stoped on the closest floor with a safe resting site for regulars.

I've made my decision, I am going to tell Bam my feelings tomorrow, but for now I know that I should get some sleep.

∆

After I wake up I put my best outfit on and rush out of my room, heading for Bam's. As I stand in front of his door I can hear my heart as if it was in my ears, my hands tremble with the note I decided I would write for him. I slide it under the door and quickly run away as I hear shuffling.

I stand under the willow tree, hidden for everyone else while I wait for Bam. Seeing the vines swinging, I tense, knowing that it was most likely the man that keeps me up at night. When he steps in his honey eyes almost immediately meet mine as his chestnut hair comes to slowly stops moving.

"Hey, are you upset with me?"

How? How could he think that? After all the time I took to build up my confidence to do this, he thinks I'm upset with him? I can't believe it! I asked him here for the exact opposite reason. Why did he think that? What had I done? When had I done anything to even hint that I was upset? Let alone at him.

"You are, aren't you?" His voice wavered as he choked back tears. Looking up at him again, I see them pooling in the corners of his eyes, and collecting on his eyelashes.

That's what it was! I took to long to do that and to long to get my nerves together, I can't believe it, I had been completely ignoring him!

"No, no Bam. I'm not upset with you. Hey come on, look at me." I beg him, as I start to walk towards him, stoping just inches away. I take his chin in one hand and lead him to look up at me, but as I do so I can feel the tears tracing my thumb only to go down my wrist. As he pears at me through his long eyelashes, only then do I notice how red his checks are.

Was he crying before he came here? How long? I look at him in disbelief. I hadn't done this wright? Are his tears really falling because of me?

I can start to fell my own eyes swell with tears, as he looks back down to nuzzle my hand as if asking for forgiveness. I take him over to a bench near the base of the tree and have him sit down. After, I try to get him to look at me again without success.

I gently drop to my knees to get a better look at him, but when I do so he suddenly clings to me and breaks out into sobs while crying broken apologies into the curve of my neck. I hold him as if he were a thin, delicate piece of glass, afraid that if I were to hold him to tight he would just shatter.

I open my mouth to try and comfort him, but right as I'm about to try he says "I- I'm so sorry, I never wanted you to be upset with me. Please, Im sorry. So sorry." I feel horrible, but right as I start to form a line of thought one of his tears roll down my neck, wetting my shirt. I know what I'm going to say next. I'm going to tell him it's okay. . . I'm going to tell him I love him.

"Bam, I-" he flinches

"Please, don't be upset with me. I can't take it, I- I love you." He mutters that over and over again, sometimes stopping in the middle just to start it all over again. I can't believe it. Was he really in love with me? Did he say something else? Was I just putting together his broken crys?

But he's saying it over and over again,

I love you, I love you, I love you. What do I say? Should I say anything? I hold him closer and tangle one of my hands in his hair. I lower my head and feel my lips brushing over his ear, I felt just close enough I was sure he would hear me.

"I love you too, Bam" I whisper. "So much."

He immediately jolts up and holds my face in both hands. "Really?!" He questions, his tear stained face looking at me so serious, yet so desperate. I take my hands and cup his before using one to wipe the remaining tears off his red face. His eyelashes flutter the closer I get to his eyes and then they close to let me wipe the lashes that still remained wet. He lets his hands fall to his sides as if trying to convey just how much he already trusts me.

I stand up and lean over him, putting our foreheads together and closing my eyes with him to enjoy the surreal moment. Hearing the vines sway from the wind and all the birds chirping beautiful lullabies. I was almost sure that he already knew the answer to his question, but I decided to mark it in both of our minds. As I tilt his head up his eyes flutter open to meet mine.

"Of course I love you, bam. I always have."

#Bam #tower of god #bam x reader #fanfiction

8 notes · View notes

keefwho · 7 months

Text

October 30 - 2023 Monday

3:06pm

Still thinking about what I want to do with myself to start changing something. I think constantly trying to express myself is a good first direction. Its just barely started helping me get a grip on who I am and made me feel a little free like I used to. First and foremost anything I feel is valid and my wants are appropriate, until I determine they aren't. I guess I'm trying to take a sort of "innocent until proven guilty" kind of approach with myself because I'm too used to shooting myself down right away. This is a sort of extreme opposite response.

Its hard to know when to act on something. I can't constantly keep trying to figure things out because it gets tiring and inefficient. Maybe it's every time I feel stressed/sorrowful which is unfortunately very often because I feel like my problems go deep. Maybe every time I feel like writing or talking about it means I can do something to address my current state. I know I want to do acting more than talking, I've fallen into the talking trap. I know I used Daisy to feel better under the guise that a "talk" will help but it usually doesn't. The occasional emotional support is healthy but I've caught myself wanting to talk basically all the time like she's my therapist. It's not fair to her and not effective for me so I will be cognizant of that moving forward. That being said, there are some things I think I do want to talk with her about as long as I can confirm to myself that it is actually needed and I'm not just overcommunicating. I intend to do this right because I care about whatever is going on between us. Dare I say it's one of my top 3 priorities.

I feel afraid to admit that sometimes because I'm reminded of a previous dynamic where the other party was so interested in me but I wasn't reciprocating in the way they wanted. In my case it made me distance from them even more because I got more and more uncomfortable. But I sorta led them on because I didn't want to let them down and at the same time I was convincing myself that I wanted to be there. But I didn't. So I have unfounded fears that I am that same position but I'm the one caring too much and pushing her away. It's the only experience I have which kinda sucks.

8:17pm

Another evening spent feeling a little forgotten. I don't have any reason to on the surface and I know that. But I feel like this a lot and that's okay. As long as I come to terms with it I can figure out how I want to proceed. I'm just so tired of every day being a fight. Its like nothing can be good. Even if things are, I assume they aren't going to last and catastrophe is just around the corner. I so rarely feel okay anymore.

10:46pm

I don't really wanna talk about my day right now but I'll at least summarize. I have lots of weird feelings right now and way too much on my mind.

Breakfast was a jimmy dean sandwich and rice. I had to go to the store to pick up some water and soda and my weekend drinks but they were out of water. Mom was supposed to pick some up for me when they got more in today but she must have forgot. I'll live as long as I get it tomorrow. Stream went well. I remember doing Inktober well and the commission. I ran out of things to work on though because I needed responses from people but I worked the rayman meme thing I had with Daisy's horse.

Afterwards I did my workout well, I was a monster on the treadmill. Also cleaned up just a bit before showering again. I took care of myself while I was at it which made me late to lunch. Lunch was some more homemade soup I've been making lately. Its a really good meal, especially after a workout. Since there was no way to stick to my usual schedule, I made sure to revise it and stick to the new times all day. I got the request done quickly and finished that rayman pic before moving onto a drawing of Zipp I had on my desktop. Afterwards I played some Cities, some dungeons, and watched Twitch kinda on and off. I took care of myself again because I was stressed out I guess and wanted a distraction. Daisy called at bedtime and we chatted just a little bit before she fell asleep.

I think I want to make this blog only about recounting what happened on a given day and I might make a new one for my deepest darkest feelings. If I do that it might be on a different website and totally anonymous. I should probably just have a physical journal to write in or a notepad file or something but I do want them to be maybe potentially witnessed by strangers. I just want to be seen in a way. But since I'll be dumping some pretty heavy and specific stuff it's gotta stay extra secret.

#journal #diary

0 notes

skiyoosmi · 3 years

Text

to the stars above | z.

featuring. zhongli (genshin impact)

genre. fluff, angst, smut, ancient-liyue!au

word count. 5.4k

marga's notes. aAAAa look look, it's my first commission!! school has kept me really occupied for like the past month but after pulling a few all-nighters, i've finally finished my responsibilities along with this little baby! once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to my bubs @ramannnn for trusting me with this one <33

Nobody knows when the world began, how it came to be and why it continues to be. Even I, whose mind is filled with nothing but wonder for it, have no idea. One thing I am quite sure of... is how mine did.

It all started with him— a man of many titles, different identities yet at the end of the day, all these monikers are the same; it's all him. He adored Liyue more than anything else, knew it like the back of his hand. He went where the winds lead him, stayed where the moon shines upon him, stood where the golden sun kissed his skin. He found serenity in the walks he travels as he goes about his day, the sceneries his eyes take in and the calm sounds the nature resonates for him. And as if it was fate decided upon by the Celestia, it led him to me. Suddenly, my little world that used to be nothing became everything... quickly and all at once.

An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips, frustration and disappointment filling my whole being as I stare at the blank parchment paper I held in my hands. Another day was again wasted with no progress, I thought, mentally beating myself up for not being productive enough. Before I could further drown myself into such pessimistic ideas, I snap out of it and let my eyes cherish the view that lies ahead of me. Though I feel a little guilty for taking Vermeer's place, I can only whisper an apology with little to no sincerity. Because truly, nothing can beat the picturesque landscape of Luhua Pool— the crystal clear waters that would most probably reflect my face like a mirror if I were to ever look at it, the ruins that ignited the spark of curiosity within me, wondering about the pasts it holds and the stillness and feeling of peace it gives me as I sit in this cliff. Feeling somewhat a bit better, I place my things on top of the old bag I bring no matter where I go. There's always a better day for writing, I tell myself as a form of consolation, bringing my slim arms up to begin stretching. I've been sitting on this log for quite a long time now, after all.

"It seems like you are in a bit of a dilemma," a deep voice comments from behind me. Out of surprise, I lightly jump and turn my head towards the stranger. Right at that moment, it felt as if all the air circulating inside my body had been depleted. Captivating was an understatement as to how he appeared before me. With the sunlight striking his face and accenting his unique features further, he stood with his hands behind him, head tilted as he looked at me with interest, all while keeping his dignified posture.

"Oh, hello. I am afraid so, yes," I respond, or rather, mutter under my breath since I was not really used to having sudden encounters with other people, nor am I fond of it. I tend to keep to myself, finding it much more peaceful than having to tend to others' overbearing expectations and demands which is partly the reason why I chose to live in the outskirts, far from the center of Liyue that contrasts my comfortable abode, "I apologize. I failed to realize that somebody other than Vermeer liked to stay here," I told him, arching my eyebrows a little when he let out a breathy chuckle.

"Oh, you have no need for such formal apologies. I do not always go here, at least probably not as often as the man you call Vermeer. I was simply taking a walk and I think I got carried away by Liyue's view and eventually, my feet led me here," he explains, a hint of sheepishness present in his tone, "and I guess I'll have to thank my feet for that."

Because it led me to you, interesting one. For many years, it will remain unspoken, kept by the strange man to himself and unveiled once his heart gives up from the resistance he upholds.

For the following hours of lounging around Luhua Pool, I learned a lot about the stranger— he calls himself "Morax," and like the god of Liyue, he enjoyed history and is extremely knowledgeable about it, aspiring to know and understand everything of the world, he often brews tea, even going as far as inviting me once I am free from any form of work. Just as he shared facts about himself, I did too.

"So, Cheng, you said you have a bit of a dilemma?" he inquires, slightly angling his head towards the direction of the side I'm sitting on. I nod my head up and down, mouth forming into a small pout of disappointment as I remember that today has not been that progressive.

"Yes. I am trying to write a novel, you see. Something that will leave an impact on this world so that even if I may pass, I will still live on the memories of people," I tell him, an ambitious expression present on my face. He hums, eyes going over the terraces that make up the current view we have and the two huge statues standing by the ruins, "Why so?"

I pause for a moment to think of a reply, "I guess I just do not want to let someone alone in this cold world. Wouldn't that be too cruel and sad, to just leave them with nothing?"

If I'm able to write words that will provide comfort to my readers, then maybe... just maybe the world will be less lonely... even for just a little bit. At least, that's what I thought as silence consumed us, the sun setting as if to remind us that finally, another day is nearing its end. Now, what will tomorrow bring?

"Well then, I do hope I will be able to read at least some of your works at least once," he speaks as he stands up, lightly dusting away his clothes, "It certainly has been a pleasure to be your company, Cheng."

As he walks down the slope of the hill, his somewhat broad back facing me, I call out, "Will you be back?"

He stops and turns, a soft smile is plastered on his face as he responds, "Only time will tell."

But time was no friend of mine. At least that's what I have come to realize as many days passed without him returning to this place. Though maybe it's only because it almost felt as if time slowed down and I was only eager to see him again, something I have scolded myself to— what a fragile heart do I have to already seek a stranger's presence? That is what others call love at first sight, a devilish portion of my mind whispered cheekily within me and I gasped in disbelief, "Absolutely not," I lightly slap both of my cheeks, "I'm just too coped up in my own world. I probably need to go see more people."

That thought remains a simple yearning though because once again, I find myself lounging around the same spot in Luhua, a quiet hope ignited within me, fulfilled when I hear the familiar voice he adorns as he speaks, "You're here."

I release a sound that is between a giggle and a breathy chuckle, "And I see your feet had led you here once more?"

"They were curious, or should I say... I was," he explains as he takes a seat beside me, his posture remaining solid despite the uncomfortable position.

"Of what?" I ask.

"Of you," he simply replies, unaware of the sudden yet unsurprising effect it had on my heart that was already beating rapidly with just his mere presence. I try not to be so showy of it though, too embarrassed to even think of how fast I became fond of him.

But it was no wonder. After all, he himself was an interesting one; from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he's just him... all and every action hold so much dignity that it just leaves me almost breathless and in awe every single time my eyes finds their way to his figure— and to think that this was just our second meeting? My mother would most probably let out the most shameless giggle as I tell her these thoughts, pushing me and teasing me like a normal person in their teens would. I shake my head to get out of these thoughts, listening to Morax as he tells another wonderful tale, almost making me think that he lived it himself with how he knew it, going over even with the smallest details.

"You know, Morax, you have such a good memory to remember all of those things despite simply hearing about it," I suddenly speak up in the midst of the silence that engulfed us while he tries to think of the next story to tell, "I hope I can stay in them too... in your memories, I mean. I know I am far from being the most interesting person but for some reason, I wish for that."

He pauses, eyes trailing slowly towards me, beyond my knowledge, before he lets out a somber smile. You already are, is another one of him that becomes an afterthought.

I heaved out a sigh before shaking my head again, "Ah! Why do I keep having such lonely thoughts? Forget about that. Please do not mind me, alright? I think I really need to stop being stuck in the mountains."

I pick up my small bag and shuffle inside it, letting out a quiet sound of 'aha!' as a sort of celebration when I successfully got a small book out, "Here."

He blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what it was I handed to him so I spoke in delight, "You told me you wanted to read at least one of my works so, here. I am warning you though, it is not like the ones that sell best in the bookstores. It might bore you, or weird you out like what others say."

"What others say?"

"They say it's too unrealistic, too impossible... but I believe otherwise. We live in a world where gods and adepti watch over us. What makes my story impossible then?" I ponder, him still being confused.

"What is it about anyway?" He asks, having no idea of what the context my book had.

"It's about an archon who began living as a simple man in Liyue."

Our meetings became more frequent after that and eventually, we got comfortable with even just the presence of each other, having no need for long talks and such, but just peace. Today, like any other day, Morax was just reading the book I gave him, while I was thinking of what my next story would be about. Occasionally, he looks at me with an odd expression that is almost equivalent to astonishment, as if I have done something so great that it made him look at me that way.

"What made you think of this plot?" he asks all of a sudden, not forgetting to put a piece of paper that served as a bookmark on the page where he stopped just in case he accidentally closed it.

I hum, thinking about my answer to his question, "Hmm. Truth to be told, it was just a mere wonder for me. Archons and the adepti, although not entirely immortal, live so much longer than an average human does, watching over us as we go about our daily lives, waiting for sudden wars to break out and then fight the enemies that attack us. Growing up, those were the things that all the people around me told me. So I began to wonder, do they ever get tired? Is it not too taxing to keep on doing that? What if... they just lived with us, among the crowds? Because I think it is too lonely wherever they are. Would it not be better if they were with us, rather than above us, so they could at least have memories to live by?"

Morax does not give a response, or rather, he finds it difficult to find one. Still, it does not stop the affection that spreads within him. He does not say it out loud, but for someone who prefers to be alone, Cheng was full of empathy. And somehow, that did wonders to Morax's heart.

"Now that I think about it, I kind of actually want to address my books to them now," I hum once more, "It would be like a message for them: Do not be too lonely even if we pass. Because of your help, through these stories, we can show you that we lived a good life."

I huff as soon as I finish my sentence, "Although one of those who read it said that was impossible, because according to them, why would archons give up their power to live a life where there is only simplicity?"

Morax let out a sound that made it look as if he got offended himself, "Archons can do that, can they not?"

"I know! That was what I was saying to them. Anyway, I am not forcing them to like what I wrote. It's just a story, after all. It can do no harm," I shrug, beginning to fix my belongings as the sun began to set, "I should go now, Morax. It is still quite a long walk to my home."

"I want to live a good life too," he suddenly tells me, making me halt and turn to him in confusion, "With you. The good life and memories you shall tell in your stories, can I be part of them too?"

The universe does not stop for anyone, nor does time— science will consistently proclaim this fact matter what timeline we shall live in. No matter how much someone begs to the Celestia to grant their wish of controlling, or stopping time, no one will be able to do such things. But somehow, it seems like when it comes to him, everything is possible as I feel my world stop at his words, just like the way it also began when I met him. And as if planets were colliding with each other, I suddenly felt my heart crash upon him and as if out of instinct, I let go of the truth.

"Of course. It would be the greatest thing to have you."

Life was strange in its own way. That is what I have come to realize in this simple life of mine.

Despite the fact that the "me" of the previous year has never even thought about putting my whole being on my sleeve, it is pleasingly odd how right now, I find myself in this kind of situation with the man who swept me right under my feet and claimed my heart as his.

“You're cold," I whisper amidst the silence of the night in my abode, my index tracing the ears of the man who had me sitting right on his lap, the shorter strands of his silky hair tucked behind them. So, so alluring.

He takes hold of my wrist, planting a soft kiss on its side, all while maintaining eye contact as he quietly drawls, "Then I suppose you can keep me warm tonight. Will you?"

As if in a trance, I nod my head, letting him take the lead as he laid me down, back against the soft mattress, him following on top with his arms supporting his build. With arising confidence, I circle my arms around him and pull him down, bringing our lips together, a sigh of relief escaping both of our mouths as if to say, "Finally."

I wonder if he thinks the same way as I do— that this was Celestia in its own way. I felt like I could do anything as long as it was with him. The kiss felt like the power we once suppressed from each other became a supernova that changed our world's course all of a sudden. But despite the tension and heat we both emitted at the moment, there is a warmth that engulfs me the same time he fully wraps his arms around me.

I am here. I will always be here.

No noise disturbs the peace we have created, only the quiet sound of crickets reach our ears but even that fails to distract him from what he's doing. He gently tugs on the sash that keeps my coat tied. Nimble fingers explore the remains of my clothing, loosening all until I am set free from them.

His eyes raked over my body, an expression of awe plastered on his face for so long that it made me somewhat conscious. Because as he unravels his to me, I am enlightened by the fact that my figure is nothing worth comparing to his — not even close. A hint of sweat glints from his skin due to the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal. But who was I to complain?

So instead, I look down, fiddling a little with my fingers as I feel my cheeks heat up. How is it that I only realize now what kind of situation we are currently in? Before I further drown in such shameless thoughts, he lifts my head up by the chin, an amused look on his usually-gentle face, "Are you feeling shy, beloved?"

I meekly nodded, to which he lets out a soft laugh and whispers, "Don't be. You are the epitome of beauty itself. If you don't believe me, allow me to show you nothing but truth tonight, I swear under the moon and all these stars."

He dips down and captures my lips in a kiss once again with more passion, if it was still even possible.

"You are made for me, as I'm made for you," he proclaims as he thrusts inside me after minutes of preparation, soft pants and groans following his statements. I can only whimper in response, pain evident in my tone at first with my hands lightly clawing at his back. I pray to the heavens above that they don't leave awful marks after this.

He halts and utters an apology, thumb caressing the bone of my cheeks while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face after a few seconds, relief flashing in his eyes when I nod for him to continue.

"I... b..." I try to speak out but the pleasure overwrites any sensical thought that goes through my mind. He slows down a little, looking over my face and smiles, urging me to talk.

"Stay with me, beloved. We still have all night," he tells me, encouraging me to voice what has been on my mind.

"I... I belong to you, always have and always will..." I manage to croak out, voice quite hoarse due to the sounds that I let out previously. Perhaps pleased with what I have proclaimed, he begins going even deeper and at the same moment, I begin falling deeper.

"Yes, yes, you do," he repeats like a mantra, his voice sounding more and more desperate to reach his high. I cry out with him, creating a harmony that even the best bards shall be ashamed.

It was a long night— the longest yet most beautiful night I have ever had in this simple life of mine. And in that moment, as we reach the stars together, I knew right there and then that this man is someone who will be etched in my heart for as long as I live, deep into its roots— for him, it shall beat and it shall love.

You, who are reading this, most probably have had enough of these teeth-rotting praises I kept on writing. But what can I do except to apologize? These words are the only ones that can flow out of my mind and mouth to show how magnificent it was to be loved by him.

Well, nothing significant really changed. He was still the same gentleman I met, if anything, more gentle. Just like in the beginning, he made my heart flutter every chance he gets, no matter how many years have already passed.

We built a dynasty together.

But maybe I should have known that ours were also bound to crumble like the ones that have long existed even way before us.

Days, months and years went on, I realized that he was actually the opposite of me— unlike me who was clearly not parallel with time, he held it right on the palms of his hand. I was not blind, nor was I a fool, I can clearly see how he looks like he has not aged a day, all while I was here, maturing more and more each second that passed by, the amount of signs of me aging increasing significantly.

Morax. Knowledgeable of history as if he lived it himself. Time. All these thoughts eventually congest my mind as realization dawns upon me. He was not merely a man named after the god himself— Morax was him, he was Morax.

"How appalling," I mutter with a hint of sadness and dismay in my tone. I stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering over my face, wrinkles appearing as I scrunch it. A pair of firm arms snake its way around my lean waist, chin resting on one of my shoulders as he hums his words, "What has got your beautiful mind occupied, my beloved?"

Taking hold of his arms, I turn my body around to face him, a somewhat melancholic smile etched on my face as I look up at his much taller frame, "You are a sight to behold, even to this day." He arches one eyebrow out of amusement and curiosity, wondering why I suddenly started pouring him compliments. After all, my shyness prevents me from consistently doing so. Nonetheless, I continue speaking, "I wish... I could be with you even when everything changes into a whole new world."

I lifted a hand up to cup his cheeks and began rubbing it lovingly, a lone tear finally dropping from my eye as soon as I closed it, "but I cannot, I do not have the ability to do so... I am but a mere mortal, after all."

His eyes widen as he finally discerns my actions and concerns, immediately opening his mouth in hopes of consoling me but I beat him into speaking, "It's alright, Morax. I have been putting the pieces together for a while now. I am in no way angry. I just..." I pause, gulping hard before my lips start to quiver, "... I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. And now... I think about it and I... I do not want to leave you alone again."

My cries eventually start becoming louder, something that is very new to the both of us, seeing as I have always been composed. Love can change a person into a whole new being. I remember a book I have read once and at the moment, I can only agree. Maybe it was the way my heart clenches at the mere thought of him walking alone, or the way I can imagine us taking our last breaths together yet I know that will never happen— but either way, it was painful.

He whispers sweet nothings to my ears, placing light kisses on my temple as he leads us to the bedroom to rest once my tears have finally ceased and I have calmed down. His hold on me gets tighter every time I let out a small hiccup due to crying, almost as if he was telling me that he was feeling the same pain as I was.

Hours pass by as we lay in silence. My tears have long dried up but we remain coped up in each other's arms.

"Would it not be interesting if you bear the name Zhongli?" I ask him in a somewhat croaky voice.

He peers down and tilts his head, "Now where did that thought come from?"

I shrug, or at least try to, and look up at the ceiling as we shift our positions to lay on our back, hands finding one another and intertwining, "Hmm... nowhere. Just a name I wanted to give you in case that you are needing a new one."

"Oh? How come it would be interesting then?"

I look at him with a comforting yet sad smile.

"Because it means it's time to leave, to go somewhere far away... and unfortunately, I will have to leave soon."

He furrowed his eyebrows together, "Do not say that. Who knows? Maybe you will be able to live a hundred years by my side. Besides, I think it sounds lonely. I do not think I would want to get reminded of the fact that you are not here with me."

I hum, "But if you bear the name I gave you, wouldn't it feel like I never went away? That no matter where your feet take you, no matter how far you go, I am and will always be with you, just as I have vowed."

The wooden door leading to my writing room slowly slides open and Morax's head peers in, an adorable smile plastered on his face, "You have been quite busy these days, beloved. I do not wish to disturb you but I am starting to long for your presence."

I let out a shameless giggle, "Alright, alright. Just let me write down a few more words while I still have ideas to input."

He peeks on the parchment paper out of curiosity, taken aback when he finds his name on it, "You are writing about us?"

I nod proudly, "My last piece."

"... But why?"

I smile and approach him, taking his hand and placing my forehead against his after he lowers his head down to my level, "I told you, did I not? I do not wish to leave the person I love with nothing. So that you will not be lonely, my words will be with you. I will be with you, always..."

"... and to tell the gods... to tell you, that I loved every second of my life with you— that it was, indeed, a good life."

"Who are you, young man? Are you my son?" I speak with a very hoarse voice, squinting my eyes at the figure in front of me, as if my poor vision will allow me to do that.

I hear a melancholic yet gentle sigh come from him before he takes my rough hands and looks afar, "Don't mind me. I'm just someone who vowed to be with you for as long as time lets us."

"Oh.... really? That’s quite endearing," I hum, "Well, may I know your name?"

"This… I think I may just have an idea to whom this book is for," Paimon trails off, looking over at the traveler who was in the same trance as her, "Paimon thinks we should let the strange person we saw a while ago give this directly to Zhongli!"

Lumine nods, turning around and starting to run towards the direction they were at previously, recalling the person named Cheng who gave them the novel they just finished reading. They were unique, dressed in layers of robes and it was almost as if they lived in the old times of Liyue. Even the way they talked and moved screamed ancient.

Just as they turned the corner, a woman near the Liuli Pavilion called them over, "Traveler! Here!" As they approach, Lumine cranes her neck to look around the area but to no avail, the strange person was long gone.

"Are you two alright?" the woman asks, much to their confusion, "I saw you talking to literal air awhile ago and I was worried you have eaten something strange."

The pair looks at each other in surprise before Paimon replies, "You didn't see anyone? Like a person dressed in the strangest attire? They dressed really anciently!"

The door of the Liuli Pavilion opens and there goes Zhongli, a calm expression morphing to an awkward one when he realizes he barged into an ongoing conversation. He apologizes for the disturbance and despite the curiosity he had upon overhearing bits of Paimon's statements, he starts his walk back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. At least not until he hears Paimon call his name, "Zhongli! Wait! A person named Cheng. Do you know them?"

He abruptly stops and turns to the two, eyes wide for a second before it returns to his usual demeanor, "How... how do you know of them?"

"We met them," Paimon says, as if it was the simplest thing to do, "Well, honestly, we don't know because we were apparently speaking to nothing but air! It's so odd!"

He stays still, honestly having no idea of what response he should give them because he himself found it hard to believe.

"Well anyway, they asked us to give you this nov— wait, where is it? It was just in your hands a while ago, Traveler!"

In the midst of the loud chaos made by the two in the middle of Liyue, he thinks he knows what to do and where to go now.

It was the day of the Rite of Parting, an event where he's supposed to be taking part of, even just a part of the audience. But he finds himself hanging around the Wanwen Bookhouse, eyes scanning the shelves until it stops at a familiar name engraved on the cover of a book.

"Oh! Greetings, Mr. Zhongli! I see you took a liking to a very great and romantic novel," Jifang comments as she sees the book in his hands.

He looks at her, "Is it really great?"

She gasps in delight, "Yes, indeed! Almost all of the Liyue folks have enjoyed this story! You can say it is a classic, especially for readers! Cheng definitely outdid themselves with this one! Such a mysterious person yet equally amazing. Imagine? Being able to make such a beautiful love story with Morax? They don’t mention the present name they gave Morax though, such a shame. Maybe it was due to old age, they wrote it until the last moments of their life after all. Anyway, I have to get back to work but enjoy reading that masterpiece!"

He feels his heart swell in pride upon knowing his lover had his wish come true. His nimble fingers carefully open the pages of the book and hours later, as he sat inside the Funeral Parlor after taking the novel home, he finds himself absorbing each and every word Cheng have written, the loneliness sitting idly inside him subsiding little by little.

I found solace in the countless cups of tea you brew whenever I encounter distress with my works, the endless stories you tell with a smile so beautiful that not even the most heavenly scenery can vanquish, but most of them all, the feeling of your hand intertwining with mine, providing me with serenity no one else has ever done before. Under the moonlit night of Liyue, I remember your wistful amber eyes, staring deep into my soul as you proclaim your love and desire for me. How foolish was it of me to think that I could live this life without even experiencing such warmth and intimacy?

It is a banality, really — how I wish to become a well-known writer with unique tales and yet the story I am telling is something so common to folks that they have most probably heard similar ones before. But I guess this is what it means to love and to be loved. Everything is like a cycle that just keeps on being repeated, yet we never get tired of it, of the feelings it brings. So, thank you, Morax. Words will never be sufficient to show how grateful I am to you for showing me a whole new world but I suppose this is still a way for me to give back to you.

With this little book of mine, I hope my heart reaches yours regardless of how many eras may have passed before and after us. So, my beloved, do not be too lonely without me. Even if you find yourself longing for my presence, just open this and my heart shall be with you.

This belongs to you, it always will.

And I do, as well.

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin x oc #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x oc #zhongli x reader #genshin headcanons #zhongli headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin fic #genshin fluff #genshin smut #zhongli smut #zhongli imagines

316 notes · View notes