my recent google search: “how to politely and convincingly ask someone to release the next chapter in their series?”
please. puh–LEASE. release me from this purgatory of literary blueballs you’ve condemned me to. you are a tease, (and yes, i respect it, maybe even enjoy it a little), HOWEVER— i am now at a level of desperation that frankly should’ve taken longer to reach but here we are.
i am on my knees. i am vibrating. i am but a hollow shell whispering “update pls” into the void.
release the chapter before i start sending you passive aggressive playlists and interpretive dances of emotional pain.
@author — look me in the eyes (metaphorically). you have the power to end my suffering.
…please 🥺💔
This is such a compliment oh my fuck 😭🩷 I do love to tease! And I will probably do something for a little bit longer, but not too long. Sooner than we'd think 🙂↕️
I'll Forgive Your Sins | What You Knew Was Inside Me
Warnings: 18+
Krynn can't seem to pay attention or take her session with General Kirigan seriously
Word Count: 935
Song: Warrior by Beth Crowley | Picrew Link | Dividers by @saradika
He should have known this was a bad idea.
But she seemed so forlorn to be stuck inside as she gazed out the window at the snow-covered courtyard. He thought indulging her wistful look would surely help her concentrate.
So he ordered the garden clear and told her to meet him there.
He'd quickly pulled on a pair of gloves and his warm cloak, but when he came out he found her knelt in the snow in front of a frozen rose bush, no gloves, no extra layers, just her kefta. At least it had been buttoned for the first time since she arrived, but that was about it.
The closer he got the better he could hear that she was muttering to the plants in a tongue he was yet to understand.
He sighs fifteen minutes later, snapping his fingers in front of her, "The longer you take to listen, the longer we'll be out here."
"Sorry," She chuckles, "What did you ask?"
"I said, What- Krynn!"
She freezes mid-step as she begins to wander.
She looks at him with a mix of amusement and annoyance, "How do you expect me to stay still on such a perfect day?"
"The same way I expect you to on every other day, now..."
"Now I want you to grow a..." His eyes catch her hand twist as small green vines wrap around her fingers. He reaches around her and grasps her wrist, huffing, "Focus."
"Right."
"Wrap the bench in Ironwood roots."
He tries to not laugh at the face she pulls, knowing she finds that particular species difficult.
His eyebrows furrow when tendrils of reddy wood wrap around the stone bench, "I said Ironwood."
"Ironwood is boring."
"It was what you were told to grow," He argues.
"I felt inspired."
"Krynn."
"I'm out here, surrounded by my namesake, and you expect me to focus on things like Ironwood?"
"Namesake?"
She looks at him in wild disbelief, "Well, what else were my parents going to name me for but the snow? Look at me, Virre'tcha."
"So what does that mean?" He asks.
"I'm sorry?"
"What you just said. Krynn means Snow, what does Viretchya mean?"
She snorts at his very Ravken pronunciation and shakes her head, "It doesn't matter. And no, krynn does not mean snow."
"But you just said-"
"Now who isn't focusing?" She teases.
There's an amused glint in his glare and his look urges her to explain.
"Krynn isn't my full name," She smiles playfully, "It's just easier for clumsy, Ravken tongues to pronounce."
"And," He motions at her target. She waves her hand and the roots around the bench disintegrate, before she squares her feet, "What, exactly, is your full name?"
Her hands twist and make a raising motion, Ironwood roots rising from the snow, weaving around the bench.
"Krynnl'ntfryce," She says quickly, "Daughter of Falros."
He tries his best to repeat the word, not quite getting it and she laughs with a small nod.
"Roughly translated, it means Fallen Snow."
"And more literally?" He asks, peering down at her
She glances above them, biting back a smirk.
"It's more... like a feeling."
She wrings her hands together before flexing her fingers. There's a faint creak in the branches of the tree next to them, but before he can look up, a flurry of snowflakes come crashing down on and around them, and Krynn breaks out in giggles.
He lets out a startled chuckle when he realizes what she did, too distracted by the melodious sound of her mother tongue when she laughs something at him.
They've been working together for four months as he studies her gift and he's heard her curse him in it, but this... this is warm and endearing, and he'd never admit it, but his heart thrums at the sound.
"And with that, we're done for the day."
"Oh," She pouts teasingly, hand swiping the snow settled on the fur of his cloak, "Have you no sense of humor, General?"
"I have no time for childish pranks," He says, unable to hide the small smile forcing its way to his face.
"No, of course not," She nods, still grinning.
"I have much more pressing matters."
"I understand, not everyone is built for the cold."
"Minx," He regards her as she saunters by.
"You wouldn't be laughing if you didn't somewhat enjoy my company," She calls over her shoulder.
He smiles to himself, agreeing with her words, he must.
"Fuck!" She curses in her mother tongue, her foot coming out from under her when she slips on a snow-covered cobblestone. She lands hard and he's quick to get to her side.
"Are you alright?"
Much to his surprise, she bursts out laughing and he worries she hit her head.
"Do you need a healer?"
"I'm fine, Virre'tcha," She assures him, sitting up in the snow beside him, his large hand on the small of her back, "My feathers are ruffled, but I'm alright."
"We should get you inside," He says, his left hand taking hers. His right stays firm on her back as he helps her to her feet. He looks down and snowdrops have sprouted along the outline of her imprint where she landed.
He absent-mindedly brushes the snow from the back of her kefta as he leads her inside.
"Wait," She murmurs, turning just enough to disperse the ironwood roots. She groans when they don't decompose, "Fucking Ironwood."
She motions with her hands and stomps with one foot, and the roots crack at their base before fading into dirt. She rolls her eyes with a defeated sigh, "Close enough."
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Just Pinned to A tester: Savez-vous qu'il y a certaines actions que vous devez faire très régulièrement pour maintenir la bonne santé de votre entreprise, notamment sur internet ? Comme nous sommes souvent pris dans une espèce de http://bit.ly/2Xu48KL
