#I AM TOO FAR GONE INTO THE SPIRAL.

[anonymous-existences]

WIP DANNY PHANTOM FANART CUZ IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED WTF??

[thesecondface]

the reward is so low but the risk is so high

[aquaticmercy]

Hot Chocolate?

Summary: Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and can’t find you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : PTSD, nightmares, panic. very slight cursing. hurt/comfort. Very much an angsty fic.

Requested by : myself again 

Word count : 1.4k

Note : As someone who has struggled with sleep disorders, writing this helped me reach a strange catharsis. Since today is World Mental Health day, please check up on your friends, my loves! Oh and I am still accepting requests, I just have enough prompts for the rest of this week and will be replying to your asks at the start of next week! Also, do Americans use electric kettles? Sincerely, someone who lives in England.

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky shot awake. He shuddered, trying to bat away the lingering visions of his nightmare that clung to him like a drenched blanket.

He found his lungs grasping for air with panic gasps as his eyes darted around the bedroom. The shadows casted by the starlight filtered through the curtains took shapes that made his heart race. For a split second, he thought he wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He was back in the Siberian Hydra lab, cold metal restraints nipping into his skin. He heard his handler’s voice speaking Russian, echoing the room with his old trigger words.

He forced himself out of this terrified state, grounding himself in reality. His chest was heaving, his eyes were bleary. Instinctively, his hand reached for the space next to him. 

It was empty.

You weren’t there.

A wave of panic crashed over him, and this was far more constricting than the terror of his nightmares. His heart started pounding more violently in his chest. His fingers grazed the sheets where you should have been. You had at least been gone long enough for the pillows to grow cold.

He could feel his pulse in his veins, each beat hammering the insides of his skull. His mind spiralled uncontrollably, thoughts feeding off the remains of the nightmare and twisting them into something much worse.

Had you left him? 

What did he do? 

Had he driven you away?

Was this it?

Bucky hastily threw off the covers, sprawling it all on your bedroom floor. He stumbled out of bed, mind clouded with fear and panic. The apartment was eerily quiet— too quiet for him to handle on his own. Too quiet for his overwhelmingly loud thoughts.

He waded through the hall as if he was four feet deep in muddy waters, his bare feet softly thudding against the floorboards. The faint sound of water boiling reached his ears. His breath hitched, his heart racing.

Emerging into the open space, his eyes darted around the dark living room, his gaze finally landing on the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He walked towards the kitchen.

There you were.

You were standing by the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, the other resting on the kettle. You were so beautiful. So perfect, compared to him.

You looked lost in thought, your posture relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him, though you were unaware.

Bucky’s feet stayed where he was for a moment, as if ice had frozen over him. Relief washed over him so fast that it nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. 

You were here. You hadn’t left. 

The relief was quickly replaced by the gnawing ache of guilt, the kind that made his chest feel tight and his head swim feel like it was underwater. He’d thought you were gone, and the mere thought of it had sent him into a spiralling depth. How pathetic.

He couldn’t help it. He constantly felt like teetering on the edge of losing you. Like every day with you was borrowed time. Like he had already stayed his welcome. Like he wasn’t worthy of holding you in his arms.

Perhaps the reason he was so jaded sometimes, was that he was sure you’d wake up and realise he was too broken, too damaged. 

When he played this scenario in his head, you’d walk out the door, leaving him a shell of the man he is now. He thought about it more that he’d care to admit.

His heart was still pounding in his chest as he moved closer to you. His footsteps were slow and uncertain. Your eyes lifted to meet his stormy blue ones as he entered the kitchen, your brow furrowing in concern when you saw his pale, shaking face.

"Bucky?" your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper. 

He shivered a bit, unable to form words for just a second. The ache in his stomach and the ball in his throat made it impossible to speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, shame curling a painful knot in his core. 

“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” he finally muttered, struggling to get every word out, as if he was swallowing glass. “I thought…” He trailed off, the rest of the sentence too painful to say out loud. Instead, small sobs escaped his lips.

You set the mug down on the counter and closed the distance between the two. Your hand found his arm, your fingers warm against the cool vibranium. 

“Hey,” you said gently, willing your voice to be as soothing as can be, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just couldn’t sleep.”

Bucky’s gaze stayed fixed on nothingness. You could hear his jaw clicking nervously, like a man terrified for his life. 

“I thought you’d left,” he admitted in a cracked whisper, sounding as fragile as he felt. “Thought I’d… driven you away.”

Your heart broke at the pain in his voice. He sounded like a whimpering puppy, begging to be held.

He had such a raw, vulnerable nature that he tried his best to keep hidden all the damn time. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as he allowed you to. You needed him to know you were never letting him go.

At first, his body was frozen like a petrified statue— he wasn’t sure he deserved the comfort. But slowly, his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“I’m right here, darling,” You whispered. Your words were firm but gentle. “I’m always right here.”

He let out a shaky breath. His forehead dropped to rest against the top of your head, breathing on your scent— the scent that always brought him a sense of calm. “I don’t… I don’t know why I keep thinking you’ll leave.”

“I’m not.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “I’m not,” you repeated again, hoping that if you said it enough times, he’d finally believe it.

The sincerity of those two simple words made his throat tighten, his chest constricting under the weight of emotions he had always struggled to fully process. He had never ever wrapped his head around how you could stand here, looking at him—someone so broken and damaged—with such gentle desire. He had never believed he deserved it.

But he wanted to believe, to trust that maybe he wasn’t as alone as he always feared. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t going to leave him behind like he feared you would.

The faint shimmer of tears fractured the soft kitchen light. He was at a loss of words at how you were holding him together, when he couldn't even do it for himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I keep putting you through this.”

Your hand found his, fingers intertwining with his. Your grip was warm, It was reassuring and steady. “Don’t be,” you said softly. You could tell that he had a nightmare. You learned the signs— the shaking, the sweating. The look of restlessness despite being asleep for the last several hours. “You just had a rough night.”

Bucky trembled against you, feeling him unravelling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was short and it came in shaky bursts. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and heavy, soaking into your skin. They started quietly, a gentle release, but soon turned into shuddering sobs that echoed against the kitchen counter, the walls, the floors.

His grip tightened, fingers twirling into the fabric of your shirt as if you were his anchor in this reality. Each sob was raw, steeped in guilt and in the fear of losing you.

No matter how vulnerable he felt, he knew that in your embrace, there was no judgement. You held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances and sweet nothings— promises that you’d stay with him forever and ever. Until the end of time. Until your heart gave out.

“Do you want hot chocolate, too?” you asked softly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a small laugh, your words a shocking catharsis, bringing him out of the spiral. 

Oh, you always knew how to say the right thing at the right time.

He nodded, squeezing your hand one more time, just to reassure himself that you were real, that you weren’t slipping away.

You smiled gently at his quiet laugh, slightly reaching out to turn the electric kettle back on again without letting your grip on him falter.

As the kettle hummed in the background, Bucky held you close, finally convincing himself that no matter how dark the nightmares were, you would always be there when he woke up.

-end

[shybluebirdninja]

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing           : Mutan!Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

[tlou-reid]

Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!

as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3

spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.

the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.

yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.

you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.

and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.

spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.

so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.

much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.

his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.

his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.

the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.

“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”

the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”

spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.

you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.

your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.

“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.

you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.

you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.

“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

[randombush3]

too sweet

alexia putellas x reader

it's based on the hozier song and i just got bored during my break

icl this might not make sense x

[...]

You aren’t sure how you ended up here. 

There was a path, there was a brick lane painted yellow and filled with singing and dancing, and, what? Did you spiral off it? Were you the hurricane, were you the destroyer? 

Maybe you are The Destroyed. 

It’s too late to think about it. 

Not because you are past repair, but because it really is late – later than usual. 

The door has been locked twice, meaning Alexia has given in and gone to bed. “Fuck,” you swear as your keys clatter to the floor, typical for you to be the one to break the peaceful silence. A rustle comes from the bedroom; a sigh, a muffled sob. “Ale?”

And it’s instinctive, the way you run to her. Once upon a time, that was all you ever did, back when you played, back when the path was good and smooth and clear.

Alexia doesn’t want to see you. She hates the smell of whiskey, she hates the gruffness of your voice. There comes a point where a person can no longer bear it. No matter how much love she wraps around you, weaving the thinning strings together to form a rope and begging you to let her pull you up from this, there comes a point where Alexia, perhaps blinded too much by her love, is destroying herself just so that you don’t go down alone. 

She’s tired. 

When you arrive at the bedroom door, she has turned over, the duvet slightly too cold and the bed slightly too empty. “Ale, are you awake?” you ask, drunken foolishness clouding your sense as the lump under the covers does not respond, does not feel she can. “Baby?” 

The bed doesn’t look inviting, and you feel unwelcome. 

You roll your shoulders back. 

“Alexia, don’t pretend.” 

The silence is haunting and you try to escape it as soon as possible, letting out a viscous laugh, directing it towards her back. The noise slashes welts in her skin, your tongue a whip, you her mistress and she, your slave. Alexia closes her eyes.

An alarm rings through the apartment. The sun is not quite up, so it would be dark if you hadn’t been staring at the soft glow of the lamp beside the TV for the past hour. 

The screen isn’t on. 

You don’t quite feel escaping this life just yet. 

“Bon dia.” Soft feet pad into the kitchen, face washed, training kit pulled on. Her nose wrinkles as the bitterness of coffee hurtles towards her, and she doesn’t make an effort to conceal her frown at the empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside you. “Are you planning to get some rest?” 

“Are you making coffee?”

“I read a study that says it negatively affects performance.” 

“Are you making me a coffee?” you amend with a smirk, sitting up and staring her down. Through the redness of your eyes shines what first attracted her to you, the devilish spark, the clearly set out intention of doing something stupid. 

She watches you haul yourself up, staggering towards her. Your hands are cold and clammy, but their grip on her waist feels just as good as it always does. She leans back into you. 

“The sun’s not up yet but Alexia Putellas is ready to train,” you murmur into her ear, kissing the skin of her neck as though to soothe where the dig must have sliced her. “No journalist tracks your morning routine, baby. You could’ve stayed in bed a bit longer, let yourself wake up later. Don’t you ever wanna?” 

Her body relaxes, choosing to hear your voice but not what you are saying. She lets herself fall into the pit you rot in; your most frequent visitor. “I am drunk on life,” she replies with a forgiving smile. 

You step back, Alexia stumbling with you, having been leaning on your body. 

“I’m not drunk.” It is far from a new lie. “Have fun at training,” you grit out. She sees the back of you as you lurch towards the bedroom door. Her tears try to fall, but she wipes her face with her knuckles and collects herself before she heads out into the real world. Her home feels like a dungeon, but one that is not meant for her. 

The girls undergo the usual ritual of asking after you. Your retirement was forced, but they all saw it coming. 

You were not sculpted from the same heroic marble, withstanding heat and terror. Nothing about you fit into training regimes and early mornings, sweetened energy drinks on promotion, discipline and determination. You got by on talent, rough and raw, and listening to your beloved prison warden on occasion. 

If Alexia is the Greek hero, you were, perhaps, the weapon she used. Deadly, yes. Sought-after. But, if dropped, clattering towards the ground lifelessly. 

She crouches down to pick you up, but your metal burns so hot that she is not sure she can touch you. 

When Alexia comes home, you are asleep. She opens the windows, self-consciously airing out the stench of alcohol before a few of her teammates come over for dinner, and she cleans the stickiness from the worktops. She lights a candle. She wishes it were an altar, a conduit to her saviour, and she prays, for a moment, that this will end soon. 

When she opens her eyes, she realises the only saviour she has been thinking of has been you. 

She crawls into the bed beside you. 

You stir at the feeling of fingers combing through your hair. 

Alexia is as bright as the morning sun, blazing above Barcelona. She is untouchable. 

The distance that has grown between you has grown because she is the zenith and you are the nadir. It is just too far to overcome. 

You are real. You suffer, you cry, you poison yourself and enjoy it. You like how you live, you like how free you are. 

Alexia’s gentle rousing – but rousing, nonetheless – sends you tumbling past your limit. 

This is not how she wants you to be, but you cannot be something you are not. 

“You’re too sweet for me.” 

She hears the rejection, but she shakes her head. 

“No, no,” she whispers desperately, pleading for it to not mean what it does, begging you to swallow it back inside. “No, I’m not. Remember?” 

She means her ACL, she means the venomous arguments and the early days where you’d watch her carefully as she inhaled your second-hand smoke. She means now, where she lets you live the way you do because she understands how life works and she gets it, she does, and she really only just wants you to be happy. 

You blink slowly. “Ale.” 

“No, I’m… I’m just still playing! I have to take my career seriously, but, but, the off-season! You know how I am in the off-season?” 

“Baby, you don’t give yourself an off-season.” 

“I can!” she vows. “I can, and we’ll go on holiday with the girls, and we’ll wake up dark as lakes and you can make me smell like a fucking bonfire, if you’d like.” 

“Ale…” 

“Please,” she asks. 

You wish you could go along with the farce. In all honesty, you’re a bit surprised that is has lasted up to now. 

You cannot do this anymore. Maybe one day, when she is done playing and training and conforming to the intense regimes the club upholds them to, you will come back to her. Maybe one day, she will have sat in the barrel long enough to have soured, bitter, now, and much more palatable. 

But you are certain about the present, about the woman lying beside you with tears running down her cheeks. You decide that if you were to taste the liquid, what is supposed to be salty would be sweet, and, with that, you have convinced yourself. 

“Alexia, baby, you’re too sweet for me.” 

[iamsuckateverythingtobehonest]

Between The Wall

Pairing: Sagau!Aether x Reader

Summary: Aether finds solace in the voice, he once hated and now loves.

!Warning!: First Time Writing, might be bad!

Part 2/3

"—Argh...! Stop it, Aether!" you scream in frustration, putting down your phone on the bed with an annoyed face.

it's been a few weeks since you started to play Genshin Impact after being tempted by your schoolmate to download the game. They already told you the gist of what you should know before starting the game itself.

But, they never mention about this game has the main character a self-aware implement into their character.

At first you notice the way Aether's face scrunched up in discomfort after the prologue. It makes you creep out but then you remember that your schoolmate has told you about a few of their self-aware elements, though they just told you about their reaction when you cancel their movements by jumping.

You assumed that your schoolmate probably wants you to experience it by yourself which is nice but a head up would be great too.

"Gacha game? more like a horror game." you snicker as you continue to play on your phone.

As time goes on, Aether's 'behavior' becomes worse. From making a lot of negative responses to you controlling him, now he even tries to defy your control over him by doing the opposite of what you want from him from time to time.

"Aether, you little shit! Stop swimming in a circle and go back to the shore repeatedly!" you shook your phone like crazy, and there was a small smile curled on Aether's face making your anger flame harder.

"T-this game is shit!"

While anger consumes you, you log out from the game.

You sigh leaning back to your gaming chair as you spin around on it before standing up, moving to your door, and walking down the stairs to grab some water.

because of this problem is the reason why you are slowly about to snap and quit this game.

You arrive at the kitchen, open the fridge, grab a small bottle of water, and quickly drink it up.

While doing so, you heard a rapid clicking on a keyboard coming from your sibling's room. A curious look on your face before you slowly walk to their and casually open the door by the knob.

There you see, your sibling screams while her finger moves steadily on the keyboard before slapping her hand on her table in frustration once she loses.

"GODDAMN IT!" Your sibling shouted, it looked like she had died fighting in the Spiral Abyss, no wonder.

"Calm down," you shook your head, walking inside to stand by your sibling. "You will wake Mom up from her sleep at this rate."

They turns to you, "Oh, you, sorry," she slowly calms herself down and sighs.

"This level just gets my shit up to a hundred, who told Hoyoverse that this is fine, all I wanted was the Primogem." They grumbles.

You softly rub her back with a small smile, "It's still many days left until the limited banner is gone, I am sure you will get em."

They put down their headphones, "Talk about it, what AR are you now?"

"Well, it's, I think...AR 23 or more..." You thought absentmindedly.

"That's quick," your sibling mused, "How is your experience so far as a beginner?"

"Well it's fun, I love the world-building, the colour, the gameplay, and the Ui..." You trailed, listing what you liked about the game until an irritated look appeared on your face that made your sibling perk at it. "Except for Aether!"

Your sibling flinched at your outburst before she raised a confused eyebrow at you, "Aether? The traveler?"

"Yes!" You grip your hand into a fist while seething in anger. "I don't know why they implanted such a feature, Like every time I try to play, he gotta need to defy my game control, it's creepy! He used to follow me but now he keeps making ugly faces at me like excuse me!"

"I really, really hate him!"

You keep rambling about your frustration with the traveler which leaves your sibling gaping.

"I don't think they have that..." Your sibling uttered out.

"Well, I did! And it needs to stop!"

"Do you contact Hoyo Customer Service? Is it probably a bug?" Your sibling suggested.

"I did but they never replied." You said crossing your arms.

"They probably will get back to you, one of these days since I am sure they have many people to attend to." Your sibling reassured.

"I hope so,"

Your sibling then chuckles, "But I don't think you would hate him for so long."

You frown with an eyebrow raised, "Why so?"

"They're gonna be a certain quest when you reach AR 28 or above which gives more lore about him." She elaborates.

"I don't think I would." You squint your eyes.

"Well the fact you still using the Traveler despite the bug he has, say so." She snickers, "Just give him a chance, hate the bug instead of him."

You scratch your cheeks and sigh, "We will see."

You decided to give the game, a second chance.

"Aether, don't you think...you being too mean to the Creator?" She whispered scratching her cheeks floating, looking down on Aether crouching down inside the bushes.

They currently watching over a couple of boars walking with Aether having his sword in his grip.

Aether glances at Paimon before smiling, "Well, it's not that bad, it's a small price for them to control my body." He turns his attention back to the boars.

Paimon deadpanned, "What a lie! You just did that so they left early!"

He doesn't respond and just quickly dashes out from the bushes and thrusts his sword onto one of the boar, quickly he pulls back the other sword and slashes the boar sprinting toward him.

Quickly he used his Anemo ability to pull back the almost-escaping boars and slashed them in one go.

Blood splatter on his face, outfit, hair and his swords.

"Ah," he wiped the blood on his cheeks with his thumbs, "I need to get better at dodging the blood-splattered," He said out loud.

Aether suddenly flinched and turned his body to see another boar is running up to him.

"Hi-ya!" Paimon shouted, hitting the boars with a rock on the forehead. "Don't you dare to attack Aether!"

Aether blinked and smiled, "Thanks for the help, Paimon."

Paimon perks up and throws away the rock somewhere else, "Hehe, you're welcome~ praise me more~" she giggles happily.

"Now calm down," Aether chuckled.

Aether then gets to work after cleaning himself with a towel to cut the boar meat, one by one.

After that was done, Aether decided to sit down to open his notebook, and start writing some alphabet and spelling again.

Paimon sits down beside the Traveler, watching the letter he wrote with knowing looks.

"Is that the Creator's language?" She asked, quietly after watching her surrounding.

Aether nodded, "Yeah, I managed to decipher some of it."

"Oh! What is it? Let me see!" Paikon excitedly asked and leaned over to look at it.

Paimon curiosity slowly turned into a horrified look, "Did the Creator say that?"

"Yeah," Aether said amused at Paimon's reaction, "surprising huh?"

"There is a lot of cursing! Outrageous mean word!" She blinks rapidly, "The Creator has very interesting wording..."

"Most of the curse directed at me, I am not surprised." He smirked.

Paimon looks at Aether's face still has a smile and a fond look on his face. "You like them?"

Aether stops writing, "Huh?" He turns to Paimon.

"The Creator! Do you finally like them?" She excitedly asked.

"No!" Aether quickly stood up and took a step back, "Ain't no way! I just tolerate the Creator better than before!"

Aether is very obviously in denial with his cheeks adorned with pink blush, averting his eyes.

It's very true that Aether slowly but surely started to understand the creator, whether their language and their intention choosing him as a vessel.

The first word he managed to decipher is 'love' from the Creator's language, it's when Aether has fallen from the Statue Of Seven that the Creator for some reason controlled him to do so.

He had a fatal injury caused by that, and while he was whimpering in pain, he heard the Creator change of tone.

Aether's eyes widened, and he looked up at the sky, the creator rambled a lot but he could hear the concern and care for him which gave him goosebumps

"...Aether!$%-#&#!"

Aether perks up again when he hears his name between the rambling and his eyes widen more.

"...Aether&%$%...love#%#&#-!"

His lips parted when he understood the word, Aether's cheeks burned red and his eyes turned hazy.

He doesn't realize what happening to him but Aether for sure has stopped functioning at this time.

Aether shook his head from his flashback and continued to scribble some more. His ear is red as his scribbling becomes faster but much to his chagrin, the scene keeps playing in his head.

Paimon, who watching at his side had a small smile adorning her face. 'Aether surely has grown to like the Creator and that's good.

Both of them will stuck together until they reach their intended goal, they are both important to me, so please help each other."

Paimon hands intertwined. together to prayer, eyes closed with her forehead leaning to her clasped hands.

Until it's snapped open, Paimon turned her head with a frown. 'Who?'

She scanned the surroundings when she sensed something wrong again. 'Behind that tree." Paimon narrows her eyes.

She was about to move and check it out but suddenly Aether stood up which gained Paimon attention back to him.

"Aether? Why are you standing?" She called moving to him, "Where are we going?"

She tilted her head when Aether didn't answer her which was odd until she moved in front of him.

There she sees Aether standing still with his eye twitching in irritation. 'Ah, the Creator is back.'

Paimon smiles sympathetically at Aether.

Aether's body then quickly moved in a sprint which made Aether's eyes wide with Paimon followed in tow.

As they move away, neither Aether nor Paimon didn't realizes that someone is watching them from afar behind a tree, the arrow they grip in their hands is put away.

The unknown eye glints with mysterious light, "The Creator..." They breathe.

You are lying down on the bed, empty and in pain.

There are tears stained under your eyes, your eyes are red from crying so hard for a long time. Akin to a person on the brink of death gate and barely gripping onto life.

"i can't believe it." you hiccup, "Lumine, why are you doing this?! Reunite with your brother, come on!" you shout in frustration, kicking your feet into the air.

You just recently finish the 'We will be reunited' quest and it broke you down from the inside hard. You are mad at Lumine but at the same you try to understand her but what actually fueled to your anger against her is Aether.

After the quest, Aether's face have trail of tears and hurt plastered that you didn't have a heart to do anything that often making you in verge of crying. Often you have started to not using Aether, in hope his expression will be better but it just become worse and you even begun to miss his smirk from before.

Everytime you try your best to help the boy even though it's probably a waste of time. After using him back again for daily mission, his face become focus like he try to pull his mind away from the events. It's like he try to move on, his expression look so real which should not be possible since Aether is a character game.

"I can't seem to leave him alone," You rub your eyes and slowly calming yourself down. Getting up from the bed you reach for your phone and open your messaging app.

After a back and forth messaging with your sibling and friend, you finally come to conclusion of what to do now.

You get back with soda and snack by your side as you open up Genshin Impact in your phone with a determined face.

"I can't believe that I am doing this for a game character that I hate..." you mutter as you sigh before focusing to the screen again.

"My money..."

"OUR MONEY!" Paimon scream, "Why are the Creator even use it to but a freaking expensive firework!!" she whined into her hand.

"We could use it to buy more Sticky Honey Roast!" She cried out, step onto the ground pr air repeatly.

Aether just sigh, "Well we can't do anything about it," he keep jogging forward to somewhere that even he doesn't know with the Creator controlling him. "We will gain it back in no time, so don't worry so much Paimon."

"Okay... but where are we even going?"

Aether narrow his eye as he climb up the boulder, "Hm...I don't know but this place seem familiar."

The more they walk and climb, the more familiar the surrounding area looks, Aether is now crouching down to set down the firework under a cliff before his body starts to sprint up up to the cliff where from there, he could see Mondstadt.

"Are the creators trying to light fireworks in the morning?" Paimon wonders out loud, "What the point? It's not even night!"

But then a miracle happened, the day quickly went back to nighttime time and both Aether and Paimon's eyes widened at the sight.

The sky that once had a sun on its landscape now has a moon and star decorating It.

At the right time, the fireworks shoot up into the air and burst into many colour.

"Wow...." Aether breathed out in awe.

"Aether..."

Aether suddenly glances at the sky when he hears the Creator speak his name. Each word the Creator utters makes his heart skip a beat, flushing red and his eye sparkling.

"....With this, I hope you will cheer up a little bit."

A trail of tears goes down his cheeks as the Creator's words end. He can't understand some of it but the way his heart thumping, he just knows for sure that.

Aether has fallen in forbidden love with the...

Creator.

[mustainegf]

hiii can you please write reader helping 1984 era james during a panic attack? thank you!!! ps, i really love your stuff 😊

This is so sad, I’m such a sap for sad James, I feel so bad for him and his past, and everything he’s gone through :(

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀, 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐆��� ¹⁹⁸⁴

It's always the same in this house on Mother's Day. James in the shadow of the living room, his eyes far away, his movement slower than usual. I feel it, even before seeing him. The day presses upon his shoulders, even before he has risen from bed.

Lars already stands in the kitchen, his voice shouting through the thin walls. He's always got some story to tell, and today it's about his mom. Something about him being eighteen, sneaking out to some party, and coming home to her waiting with a smirk and a cup of tea. The laughter in his voice is a knife to the room, cutting through the silence James seems to be clutching to.

I glance over at him. He sits up on the couch, hunched, his hands clamped into the arms of the chair a little too tightly. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Mother's day had always been brutal, as far as James was concerned. His mom had died when he was 16, a slow, painful battle with cancer that he never really got to process, not fully. And his dad? He'd left when James was 13. The scar still bled sometimes.

Lars is oblivious, his laughter filling the house as he pours another bowl of cereal. I want to stop him, turn the conversation in another direction, but it's too late. James is getting smaller in his skin, shrinking away from the room.

Then it does. He's off in an instant, out of the room and wordless, fists clenched. Lars stops midsentence, looking puzzled. I know better. I flash a hasty smile at him as if to say, it's fine, and follow James out into the hallway.

He paces around our little bedroom. His hands shake, his breathing hoarse. The door stands open, but somehow it seems shut to me. He doesn't notice me at first, he's too far inside his head, tracing and retracing the same dark grooves he always follows on days like today.

"James?" I say softly, coming in. He straightens, rigid, his back to me, his shoulders shaking.

"Don't," he says, his voice tight. "Just… don't."

But I just can't leave him like this. Not today. I shut the door behind me and take another step forward, to reach out for him, and he pulls away, turning to face me. His eyes are bloodshot, his face streaked with tears, and there's anger there, burning anger.

"I hate it," he spits, voice shaking. "Every fucking year. It's just this wound that doesn't heal. I wake up and it's just...there. Like she just died all over again. And Lars-" He breaks off. "He's in there, laughing, telling stories like everything's fucking fine, like we all have these great memories. But I don't. I never had that. My dad left. My mom…" He trails off, shaking his head harshly.

I step closer, my heart aching for him. "I know, James. I know today is hard for you."

"Hard?" He laughs bitterly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's not just hard, it's hell. I didn't even get to say goodbye to her. I didn't know how. I was just a stupid fuckin' kid trying to act like everything was okay. And now… now I hardly remember her voice anymore. I don't remember what she smelled like, or how she used to hum while she was cooking. It's all.. fucking gone." He starts pacing again, this time faster as his breathing quickens. "And my dad… He wasn't even bothered to stick around. He just left and was never seen again. What does that tell you about me? What am I?"

I move toward him slow and careful, like he's some injured animal that will strike out. "It doesn't make you anything, James. It isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

But he's spiraling now, his breathing getting faster and faster as his chest rises and falls like he can't get enough air. His eyes are wild, unfocused, and I can feel the panic setting in, wrapping itself around him.

"I can't breathe," he chokes out, clutching at his shirt. "I can't-"

"James, look at me," I continue firmly, stepping in front of him, both of his hands in mine. "You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe with me."

He's shaking so hard now, and I help him down to the floor, kneeling with him while he struggles to pull in air. I know if I don't get him to calm down, it's going to get worse.

"Listen to my voice, okay?" I whisper, taking his face between my hands and making him focus on me. "Breathe with me. In… and out. Nice and slow. You can do this. Just breathe."

He nods, but it's shaky, and his breath is still ragged. I keep my hands on his face, making sure not to get my body too close, and make him panic more.

"In," I whisper. "Out. You're all right. I'm here. You aren't alone."

His breathing starts to calm, just a little, but enough. I feel his hands unclenching. But he's still crying, silent tears shooting down his face as he fights against not falling apart. It truly is heartbreaking hearing his little hiccups and sniffles.

"I'm sorry," he whispers with a breaking voice. "I'm sorry I'm like this."

I shake my head, tugging him closer as I wrap my arms around him. "You don't need to apologize, James. For this. Never."

We sat there for at least an hour, the two of us on the floor, holding each other. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, the rise and fall of his breathing as it starts to even out. But I know the pain is still in his heart, and deep down, I know it always will be.

My heart shatters more with the though, the mere idea, that at the bare soul, he's just that same 16 year old boy, who needs his mama.

"I miss her," he finally whispers, hardly audible. "I miss her so much."

"I know," I reply softly, my fingers moving down through his wavy sandy hair. "I know you do."

As the minutes tick by, I can feel him start to come back to me, piece by piece. At last he tugs back, wiping at his face with shaking hand. "Thanks..." he whispers softly.

"Don't thank me, baby." I smile at him, brushing a tear from his cheek.

"All I want you to do, is remember her."

[lueurjun]

enemies to lovers with soobin.

soobin x reader! in which a single misunderstanding sparks years full of dislike on both ends—or so you assume. enemies to lovers but it’s mainly idiots to lovers really. soobin x reader. i am literally starting to run out of ideas and it’s now 7 am and i haven’t slept but we move — pls cut me some slack if this one is bad. i am in the trenches rn. it’s also really long, i got carried away … my bad

reading the title probably made you giggle

because how on earth could anyone have beef with choi soobin?

the 6ft tall human embodiment of the word cosy

well, the thing is, you don’t actually hate soobin

it’s okay to admit it if you do, it’s not like imma jump you or anything hehe 🔪😐

for legal reasons that was a joke

so now you’re probably all like ‘but soobin would never hate me! he’s too soobin to hate anyone’

and you’d be correct because he actually doesn’t hate you

id jump him too. let that lanky mf admit he hates you and watch how fast i gather the crew ( my crew is the ninja turtles )

somehow, the two of you started this whole fiasco of believing that you hated each other

this dated back to when the two of you were starting high school and ended up falling in with the same group of friends

everything was fine at first and there was no beef with you and soobin

until one fateful evening when the group decided to hang out at the park

squad goals if you ask me. friends that go down the slide together, stay together trust me 🤞

everything had been running smoothly

aside from the fact that beomgyu almost got stuck inside a swing

after his panic attack and yeonjun had stocked up his camera roll with videos of the incident, beomgyu managed to be freed

thank you to taehyun who managed to yank him out

lord and saviour taehyun. saving beomgyu’s since he was in nappies 💪

after the whole ordeal, you sat next to soobin to gossip about how idiotic your friends are

and neither of you had realized just how close you were sitting

until one of your friends so generously pointed it out

fucking little tell tale RAT

which of course sent the rest of the group into a spiral of hoots and hollers

that then lead to the shipping and ‘oh you guys would be so cute together!’ comments

and they wouldn’t be wrong because you and soobin were actually a lot alike

the two of you shared common interests and could talk for hours about nothing

he was easy to talk to and that’s one of the things you liked about him

so, perhaps you didn’t mind the comments

oooooh not you crushinnnnn 😏 y/n and soobin kissin in a tree- sorry

in contrast, soobin’s expression was far from pleased as his gaze flickered from the group to taehyun and then to you, who stood with your eyes focused on the ground sheepishly

“what? i don’t like them. like at all. we’d be hideous together.”

record scratch. moment ruined

of course, he hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh

and he felt exceptionally bad when he saw your face fall

making matters worse, your friends quickly fell into an uncomfortable silence, the tension in the air so thick you could practically feel it

oh well done! gone and made it all awkward now

from then on, you kept your distance from him

you were hurt by how disgusted he seemed at the idea of dating you

i would literally die for you. bruno mars would catch a grenade for you? jump in front of a train? nah bitch. i’d let a thousand bullets shoot me just because you you asked me to. i’d even step on lego for you-BEAT THAT SOOBIN #imromantic #imbetterthanhim

of course, you didn’t hate him

you could never hate him because he’s damn near impossible to hate

but soobin was unaware, believing his comment had shifted your opinion of him

he wanted to apologize, but you made effort to avoid him at all costs

so, he gave up and just decided to let it be because he wasn’t going to harass you into accepting an apology

which meant he also started avoiding you

so naturally, you assumed he now hated you

both of you jumping to conclusions higher than fuckin snoop dogg at this point-

whenever the friend group would hang out, the two of you would keep your distance

if someone made a comment about said distance, the pair of you just shrugged it off and changed conversation

you kind of just started to co exist

and this went on for quite some time and by some time i mean… the rest of high school

it wasn’t until you were a year into college did the misunderstanding finally get revealed

yeonjun had arranged for a mini reunion since you all hadn’t had much time to hang out in your separate lives

sure, you saw each other a lot but it wasn’t nearly as frequent and the groupchat had kind of died down

the meeting spot just so happens to be the same park where soobin crushed your soul that night

and for a moment, you considered not going

ha pussayy……..i am so sorry

but something deep inside tugged at your heart, and a gentle whisper echoed in your mind, encouraging you to go

so you did

the catchup was nice, and the group reminisced on high school memories

one of them being when beomgyu got stuck in the swing

and that topic opened up a can of worms

“wasn’t that the night that y/n started despising soobin?”

kai had bluntly pointed out, laughing along with everyone else

except, you weren’t laughing

them: 🤣 you: 😐

“despising soobin? i never despised soobin?”

everyone looked at you as though you had grown three heads

because what? what do you mean you never despised him?

“yes you did? when he made that comment about the pair of you being hideous together? you two stopped talking after that…”

after taehyun’s statement, you turned to soobin who looked just as confused as everyone else

“i didn’t hate soobin… soobin hated me?”

you had never seen anyone laugh as hard as the boys in that moment

kai was almost purple

not him almost cosplaying violet beauregarde from charlie and the chocolate factory

with all of them unable to breathe from laughing so much, you prodded soobin for an explanation

“well… after i made that comment, you kinda stopped talking to me and when i was going to apologize, you avoided me so i assumed you hated me and thought it was best to leave you alone…”

oh.

okay.

so you spent your last moments in high school believing that he disliked you

and he didn’t?

mhm. that’s fine. okay. yeah.

beomgyu, who was finally calm enough to speak, pointed between you

“wait… so… you didn’t hate him?”

and you shook your head

“i was hurt at first and needed some time but i didn’t hate him? i could never. it was quite the opposite really”

yeonjun let out a low whistle.

“perhaps we should leave you guys to talk this out.”

beomgyu gasped. “no? absolutely not! it’s just getting good.”

someone get beomgyu some popcorn

he was hastily yanked away with the group, leaving you and soobin alone in the spot where the miscommunication first took place

you could still hear beomgyu’s cries of protest in the distance

it was silent between the two of you for a brief moment

neither of you really knew how to start

until finally, the curiosity overwhelmed you and the silence was broken

me and the silence are the same fr 😔

“why was the idea of dating me so repulsive to you?”

soobin was stunned by the bluntness of your question, his face conveying surprise.

“i-i really wasn’t.”

“then why did you act so disgusted?”

grill him bae! like he’s a steak! grill him!

soobin looks perplexed for a moment and then his phone dings

you almost can’t believe the audacity of this man as he pulls out his phone to check the text

and then, his shoulders slump and he slides the phone over to you which displays a notification from taehyun

‘tell them the truth, i don’t mind.’

huh?

“taehyun had a crush on you back then… he had confided in me and i didn’t want to upset him…”

taehyun had a crush on you?

not you collecting txt like infinity stones

your head was starting to pound

“why didn’t he ever tell me?”

soobin shrugged. “i think it was just a passing crush. he started liking someone else a couple months later.”

thinking back, there was a period of time where taehyun had acted different towards you

you had noticed his lingering gazes and ignored them, chalking them up as nothing significant

and suddenly, his silence during the teasing made a lot of sense

“so… you weren’t repulsed by me?”

soobin shook his head, now looking rather shy

“it was quite the opposite. i’ve always found you quite spectacular.”

spectacular 🤓

“i’m really sorry for avoiding you.”

“me too, and im especially sorry for acting repulsed by you… though if you’d let me, i’d love to make it up to you?”

soobin was timid, his shoulders hunching as the words nervously slipped out of his mouth

you cheeks burned, but you tried to rein in your hopefulness, the last thing you needed was another miscommunication

“how would you do that?”

“well, i’d love to take you on a date if you’d let me… and then many more after that if you’ll have me.”

his question strikes a chord deep within you, instantly soothing away the torment of the past and restoring a spirit of hope that maybe you could be something more

in that moment, the october breeze felt like a scorching wave of lava, scorching your skin

“i think i’d really like that.”

[babsisbakery]

How far will you take it?

Lia Wälti x fem!reader part 1

Do you love me or do you love that you have a gf. That you aren't single. That you don't have to spend nights alone. Someone in your arms or someone to hold you. Would you love me if i wasn’t ur gf or just when I am. Maybe you just love the idea of love but don't actually love me. Or maybe you only “love” me because you are bored and have nobody else. I'm just here and showed you affection, so you took it. Took it, to be in a relationship, to get as close as possible to actual love. In reality it isn't though. It's just a fantasy you create. But what about me?

You love being in relationships. Exes of you have warned me, multiple, so so many. I ignore your red flags. As if I had a red and green colour deficiency. I give and I give, do I receive anything in return? No. Because you need, want the affection. But when I need it, you are nowhere to be seen. When I'm clingy or want some attention. You take your sweet time responding. Time away from me.The cold shoulder, silent treatment, no response after I shoot a text. Even Duolingo messages me more than you and that's sad to admit.

I'm wondering if you leave me on-read on purpose too. I know you do sometimes on insta. Why's that? Did I offend you? Lia, you leave me with crumbs. Crumbs of your existence. Which I absorb like a greedy vacuum. This isn't healthy. It makes my mind spiral every night. Wondering if you love me. Wondering if you are cheating. Wondering if you have found the one but stay with me out of convenience. No-one in a relationship should have to wonder if their partner loves them, yet here I am. You give me almost nothing. Stop messing with my feelings, don't drag me around if you don't feel the same. Let me find someone who does in fact love me if you don't. I want a relationship where both sides give 100 percent. A balance. Yet still all my words fall to dull ears, Words spoken to someone who doesn't want to change or listen. Someone who wants to live their life to the fullest, but why drag me into this chaos of a life. 

So either you get a grip of yourself or I'm done. I'll not only leave you but Arsenal as well. I wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes. So I'm giving you an ultimatum. Yes, like one in the show but without a ring, I want to sense your commitment. Because those restless nights are plaguing my brain. I want to become a mother eventually and for that I need a partner. If it's you or not, I can't foresee. If you can't imagine a future with me, then don't. I'll go. I'll be gone. Just say the words. I’ll be out of your hair once and for all.

- Your dear friend/gf

This is the letter Lia found on the counter top after returning from a cruel training session. Lia sat down on the sofa, still in her gym clothes. She initially assumed it was some sort of grocery list, she wanted to ignore it. But something in her mind nagged her to take a better look. She was shocked and ashamed of herself. She had really broken you. This wasn't in her plans, to destroy your whole being. She simply wanted to have some fun, have you as her girl. Yet there wasn't a trace of you. Not in this apartment, albeit your belongings were still at their places, nor in training today. Now she knew the reason why you were out of sight this evening. You are gone for now. Somewhere you felt loved and cherished. She had led you to exile with one foot in the door. The question is will Lia convince you to stay or will she set you free to be at peace? Which path will she choose?...

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 2 - “Peter”

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.

Part 1 - El Paso Series Masterlist Part 3 - Vampire

warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence

Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.

“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.

Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.

Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.

I miss him.

“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”

A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.

An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.

A note appears at my bedside.

“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”

I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”

I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?

“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.

“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”

My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.

“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.

“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”

She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

—————-

Felina

“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.

My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.

“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.

My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.

I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.

An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”

My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.

“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”

The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”

His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”

I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.

My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -

Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.

I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.

When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.

————————

Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.

Words from the mouths of babes

Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.

Promises oceans deep

Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.

But never to keep

————————-

“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.

The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.

“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.

He sure as hell didn’t sound it.

“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”

A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”

Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”

Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”

The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”

“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”

Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.

The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.

“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.

“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”

She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.

Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”

“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.

“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.

Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.

Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.

Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?

“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”

Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.

Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”

Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”

The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”

“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”

Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”

Rhys only gave a knowing nod.

—————————

Love’s never lost when perspective is earned

Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.

Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life

And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”

A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.

The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.

Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.

A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

———————————

Azriel

Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.

His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.

Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.

His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.

“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.

The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.

Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.

And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.

So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

—————————

Tamlin

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?

He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.

How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.

They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.

He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.

And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.

They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.

They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.

And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.

And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.

All he could choke out was, “Felina.”

We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

—————————————

Tags:

General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria

Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay

SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here

[aringofsalt]

🖤 and bucktommy

🖤 - kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

made it angsty just for you 😂 (well. angsty for me anyway shhhhh)

One name.

Two syllables.

A common enough name, one the barista waiting impatiently behind the counter probably said five times a day or more; only a few short months ago it was one of the most special names in Buck’s life. But it couldn’t be him; Buck's Tommy was gone. He was halfway across the damn country by now at his fancy new job, not that Buck was bitter about it, he was being super mature about it actually—

“Order for Tommy?” The barista repeated, exasperated, and this time a very familiar set of shoulders came into view.

Buck watched, frozen in place, sure that he’d once again taken a bolt of lightning to the face and descended into bizarro coma world, but before he could get too far down that spiral, Tommy had turned around and headed in his direction. He glanced up at Buck, did a double take, then froze himself, the two of them deer in each other’s headlights.

“Uh, h-hey, Tommy,” Buck offered stiffly. “Are you meeting someone?”

“Hmm?”

“You have two cups,” Buck pointed out. Tommy smiled shyly, turning one of them to the side to show the little label marked off with—Buck’s usual order.

“I was actually hoping to surprise you before your shift. I, uh, wanted to tell you in person, but I decided not to take that job. I just—I wanted to stay. I wanted you. I had to iron things out with my boss and be absolutely sure I could back out before I told you, but they were already ready to offer me a pretty good retention deal, so—mmph!”

Buck wasn’t about to wait a single second longer before throwing himself at Tommy for the first time in months, busy coffee shop be damned. By some sort of miracle (or just Tommy’s reflexes), the cups stayed in his hands instead of hitting the floor, but he wrapped his arms around Buck as best he could anyway, holding him steady as he always did.

“Really?” Buck breathed, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes and threatening to fall. “You’re really staying?”

“Sure am, baby,” Tommy said softly, arms tightening even more. “And I know it’s a lot to expect that you’d still want to—”

Tommy was right, all those months ago when he’d kissed Buck for the first time and turned his whole life upside down: kissing someone was an effective way to shut them up.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.8

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin spirals more and more and you debate on whether or not you’re truly happy with where your life is going.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.9k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The flashing lights made Anakin’s head spin as he gripped the glass tightly in his hand. 

He had no idea how much he had to drink tonight, but he knew it was well past his limit. Still, the more he drank the more free he felt. 

Gone was the stress of not being able to write, gone was the constant ache he felt whenever he thought of you, gone were his worries. 

He guessed he had Liz to thank for that since she had found this bar that looked a lot more like a club. She had heard of this place in Warsaw that was apparently pretty popular, and that turned out to be very true since Anakin could barely move with all the people around him. 

He also had no idea what they were saying as they chatted and sang amongst themselves, and clearly Liz didn’t either as she shook her head at a guy who offered her something in a plastic bag. “I have no idea what you’re saying,” she yelled over the music as she took a small pill from him, making Anakin raise a brow in concern. “But I’ll have one.”

She smirked and placed the pill on her tongue, and it dissolved slowly as she winked at the man before patting him on the back and sending him on his way. She turned back to face Anakin with a grin as he eyed her cautiously. “Do you know that guy?” He asked and looked behind her as the man offered one of the pills to another girl. 

“Nope,” she answered, stealing his drink from his hand while he was distracted and finishing it off for him. 

He looked back at her and she rolled her eyes when he said, “Do you think it’s  a good idea to take pills from random men at bars?”

“Who are you, my dad?” She laughed, taking his wrist in her hand. “Just because you don’t do drugs doesn’t mean you can judge those who do.” 

Anakin followed her as she pulled him to the middle of the room, and he had to squeeze uncomfortably in between more than one intoxicated girl who ran her nails down his body on his way past. “I’m not judging,” he said. “Just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

She smirked up at him as she tried to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I’m with you, aren’t I?” She asked, slurring her words and pushing herself up so her face was close to his. “I’m the safest I could be.”

“Okay,” he took her wrists in his hands and dropped her arms to her sides. “I think you’ve consumed more than enough tonight. Let’s just go.”

Liz pulled back when he tried to guide her towards the door, shaking her head like a kid even though she was nearing her thirties. “You go if you want to so badly,” she scoffed. “Call your little girlfriend and go to bed. I’m staying.”

He watched as she began dancing with the guy she got the pill from and sighed as he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

2:43 AM.

Fuck, he was going to be exhausted during the band meeting tomorrow and he probably will only get an hour or two of sleep at the most if he left now, but he knew he couldn’t leave her alone this time. She was far too intoxicated and he would feel awful if something were to happen to her after he left. 

So, with a huff, he pocketed his nearly dead phone and leaned against a pillar, keeping an eye on her for a few more hours after that. He ended up pretty much carrying her back to where the bus parked was at nearly six in the morning, his body aching and his eyes sore from lack of sleep. 

He felt like he had been sleeping for five minutes when Vinny shook him awake and pointed towards the couch. “Morning, Anakin,” he greeted. “Why is Liz sleeping on our couch?”

Anakin groaned as he got out of his bunk and looked at the couch, too. “She got completely wasted last night,” he told Vinny. “I couldn’t get her to leave until, like, five in the morning and I let her sleep there since nothing else was open and she didn’t make any reservations at a hotel.”

Vinny nodded as he tucked his phone and wallet into his jean pockets. “Uh huh,” he muttered, heading towards the door. “Well, have fun dealing with her hangover.”

“Wait,” Anakin called after him, walking over to Vinny quickly despite his head begging him to stop moving right now. “Where are you going? I thought Helena said there was a band meeting today.”

Vinny shook his head and opened the bus door. “No? Pretty sure that was her way of getting you to talk to her without you thinking something is up,” he answered, stepping off the bus. “With that being said, if you don’t show up to that meeting, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

Then he was gone and Anakin was left holding his stomach as he felt nausea wash over him. He passed by Liz and headed for his bunk again, picking out black jeans and a hoodie he’s had since his first year of college before he dropped out to go on tour. 

He felt around in the pockets of the jeans he wore last night and pulled out his phone, a deep sigh leaving his mouth when he saw that it was at 2%. He also saw that you had texted him, and he typed out a response as he walked by Liz again. He debated on whether or not he should wake her up, but decided not to as he left the bus. 

She could sleep there for now until she was scheduled to take their pictures later tonight. And she could deal with her own hangover.

Princess: Hey..miss you. Can we call later today?

Miss you, too. Yeah, call me when you’re able to. 

He sent it before pulling up the directions to the coffee shop Helena sent him. 

Anakin barely made it there before his phone died, and as soon as he entered the shop and met Helena’s eye, it powered off. He shoved it into his pocket and sat down across from her at the table. “Hey, sorry, I had a hard time finding this place,” he said as he looked around the small shop. 

Helena hummed as she brought her cup of coffee up to her mouth, pushing another one towards him with her free hand. “That’s alright,” she trailed off, sipping on her drink as she observed him with a raised brow before leaning forward. “Permission to be blunt, Anakin?”

Anakin laughed as he sipped his own drink, grimacing at the hot liquid before swallowing quickly. “Permission granted, like always,” he answered, setting the cup aside. “You know that.”

Helena gave him a tight lipped smile as she leaned back again. “You look like shit,” she stated, crossing her arms while still holding her coffee. “Like, awful. Anakin, you look bad.”

Anakin laughed unexpectedly and looked around again. He wasn’t sure what he thought she was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Uh…thanks for that, Hel. You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself,”

When he met her eyes again, he could see the concern in them. “I’m serious, Anakin,” she said, much quieter now as her gaze flickered all over his face. “How much sleep have you been getting? You’ve got circles under your eyes, you’re hungover all the time, you’ve lost weight…I’m worried about you, Anakin.”

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair before leaning back and avoiding eye contact with his manager. He knew he wasn’t doing very well at the moment, but there wasn’t much he could do about some of her concerns. 

He knew his sleep schedule would become fucked when he left you behind in London, and he gave her a warning about that in advance. The drinking and hangovers were on him, though, and he really didn’t have an excuse for that. 

Still, he felt like he was being called out by one of his high school teachers, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of that feeling. 

Helena sighed at his lack of response and set her drink aside as she thought over her next words. “Is it Y/n? I haven’t heard you talk about her much lately,” she cautiously asked. 

Anakin looked over, glaring at her for a second before shaking his head. “No, it’s not Y/n. She’s doing great all by herself in London,” he bitterly answered, making Helena raise a brow. 

“Okay…” She sat back again, knowing better than to push that topic any further because of his hostile answer. “How’s the song writing coming along?”

He laughed quietly at that one. “Amazing,” he said and watched as she perked up at that. Too bad he was about to ruin her brief moment of happiness. “I’ve written one whole sentence. Not a lyric, but a sentence.” 

She raised both brows and pressed her lips together at that, nodding in a way that told him she was holding back. “Okay…um…alright,” she dropped her gaze and focused on the table, and Anakin felt bad about his inability to be a decent fucking guy nowadays. “Okay….as your manager, I’m responsible for you, so, I have to ask….what’s with all the partying? All the hangovers?”

Anakin gave her a look that begged her to just drop it, but she just gave him an unreadable expression. He sighed as he crossed his own arms. “I don’t know, I thought all musicians went out and partied in their prime,”

Helena nodded and grabbed her drink again. “Most do…but I see you’ve gotten pretty close with Elizabeth. What’s that all about?” 

“I thought you wanted us to be nice to her,” he pointed out and Helena nodded again. 

“I do want that, but you’ve been spending more and more time with her at all these bars and clubs,” she trailed off, shrugging afterwards. “Just worried about you, is all.”

Anakin slouches back and nods. “Well, I’m fine,” he mumbled, giving her a half-assed thumbs up as if it would help her believe his words. “Really. Just missing my other half, that’s it.” 

Helena gave him a sad smile. “You sure that’s it?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “That’s it. I’m working on the song, I promise. It’s just taking longer than normal, but I’ll get it done.”

She nodded and sat up straighter. “Good to hear,”

He smiled back at her as he looked at the empty seats next to them in the booth. “So, why did you say this was a band meeting when you only wanted to talk to me?”

Helena gave him a pointed look, “Would you have actually shown up if I told you that I wanted to meet with you to call you out on your shit?”

Anakin let out a genuine laugh at that, running his hand through his messy hair as he shook his head. “No, probably not,”

-

“Before you all run out of here and get drunk or whatever it is that college students do on weekends nowadays, I have a little announcement,” Kenneth said just as you and the rest of the class started packing up. “There’s an orientation event happening this weekend. Just something to encourage first time students to put themselves out there, be creative..things like that.”

You shove your books in your bag as you stand up, never looking away from your instructor as his gaze flickers all around the room. 

“After reading the assignments you’ve all submitted, I’ve decided I want one of you to tag along with me to the orientation, just as long as you’re not booked and busy for the weekend like I’m sure you all are,” he said, earning a few scattered laughs before he met your gaze. “Miss Y/l/n, I think you will learn a thing or two if you were to attend the orientation. If you are able to.”

Your face heats up as everyone looks at you, making you shift a bit and glance up at Evan, who didn’t look too happy but still did a decent job at hiding it. “Me?”

Kenneth nodded, “Yeah, you. I think spending a few hours with the young writers would do you well,”

You swallow harshly as you avoid eye contact with every single student that was looking at you. “Yeah, sure, I….sounds fun,”

“Great,” Kenneth nodded, standing up as well. “And don’t worry, there will be many other opportunities like this for everyone else. Have a good weekend, guys.”

Evan shook his head and shoved his notebook in his bag as he headed for the door, pausing when he realized that you weren’t following him. “Hey,” he called out to you, making you look over at him from where you stood by the table. “You coming?”

Holding up your index finger, you give him a shy and embarrassed smile. “One sec,” you answer before quickly walking over to Kenneth’s desk. “Hi, sorry, but are you sure I’m the right fit for this? There’s a lot of talent in this class.”

You look over at Evan, who just shakes his head again and leaves the room with everyone else. Kenneth looked down at you with a raised brow. “It’s just an orientation, Miss Y/l/n, not a showcase,” he said. “That happens much later.”

You nod and place your bag over your shoulder. “Right, okay, sorry. Thank you for, you know, picking me, I…I appreciate it,” you trail off. “Where is it happening? Will I need to wear something specific?”

Kenneth shook his head as he packed his own bag. “No, nothing specific. They’ll give you a name tag so people will know you’re part of the event, which is happening on campus,” he answered. “In the Quad.”

“The Quad, right,” you nod. “Time?”

“One in the afternoon,”

“Okay, great,” you say and back away from him, hoping Evan waited for you in the hall. You also hoped he wasn’t mad at you like you think he might be. “Thanks again.”

Kenneth gave you a nod. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/l/n,” 

“See you tomorrow,” you say back before leaving the classroom and meeting Evan’s eye as you enter the hallway. “Jesus.”

Evan laughs and it sounds a bit forced as you and he walk down the hall. “What? Upset that the instructors got a soft spot for you?”

His question caught you off guard and you stumble a bit as you near the exit. “He does not,” you scoff. “He said everyone will get an opportunity like this.”

Evan holds the door open for you. “Yeah, only because he had to,” he said, making you glare up at him for a few seconds. “Oh, come on, the man basically just said you’re the best in the class, he’s gotta keep the rest of our hopes up so we don’t drop out.”

You shake your head. “You and your threats to drop out,” you mutter, walking a few steps ahead of him. “I didn’t ask him to choose me, okay? It just happened.”

Evan stopped walking, making you stop as well and turn to face him. “And you agreed,”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him no?” You raise your voice a bit before promptly shutting up and looking down. He was making you feel bad about being chosen by Kenneth, but you still didn’t want there to be tension between you and the only person you actually talk to in class. “There’s that reading assignment we got earlier today…do you want to work on it together? Maybe we can order in, too.”

Evan looked away and shook his head. “No, I think I’ll have an early night tonight,” he said as he began walking in the opposite direction. 

“Ev,” you call out after him but he just continues walking. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said back and then he was halfway across the campus, leaving you all by yourself. 

You curse under your breath, frustration seeping into you as you pull out your phone and click on Anakin’s contact. He was probably the only person in the whole world you wanted to talk to right now. “Hey, princess,” he greets you when the call connects. 

“Hi, Ani,” you say as you begin walking again. “How are you?”

“Could be better,” he answered and you could hear him fidgeting with something in the background. “What about you? How was your day?”

You look back in the direction Evan took off in, but he was long gone now. “It was going well until about five minutes ago,” you say as you walk towards your dorm. “I accidentally pissed Evan off and now he’s all mad at me.”

“Why is he mad at you?” Even on the phone you could still hear the protectiveness in Anakin’s voice, and it provided you with the smallest amount of comfort. 

“He thinks Kenneth has a soft spot for me since he asked me to go to this orientation thing with him this weekend,” you mumble and after saying it out loud, you were kind of starting to agree with Evan. “I don’t know, it’s just…I don’t know.”

Anakin scoffs. “Sounds like Evan is just jealous of you,” 

You bite down on your lip and take out your keys. “He’s got nothing to be jealous of, though,”

“I think he does,” Anakin says and you raise a brow as you drop your bag onto your bed. “You’re clearly one of the best students there. You write better than all of them, and that’s pretty obvious by the feedback you’re getting. He’s probably just pissed you’re getting all the attention.”

He almost sounded annoyed, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was being petty. “You say that with such pride,” you say back.

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before he says in a monotone voice, “You know how proud of you I am,”

He says that, yet he wasn’t doing a very good job at showing it at all lately, but you didn’t want to call him out on it and have both him and Evan mad at you. “Yeah,” you trail off as you pull out your laptop. “Anyway, I miss your face. Can you video call me?”

“I can’t right now, baby, I’m heading to the venue soon,” he replied and you felt your heart deflate a bit. 

“Oh, okay,” you mumble and sit down at your small desk. You open your laptop and pull up the word document you’ve been working on for a week or so now as you add, “Have a good show then, Ani. I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess,” he said back then ended the call. 

You set your phone down with a sigh as you look around your empty room. Bailey had gone home for the weekend and Evan rejected your offer to hang out, and you were left to sit by yourself and forced to also have an early night. 

The next day you make it to campus for twelve thirty and stand by Kenneth as the fresh out of high school graduates walk around the Quad. You smile at the possible new students and hand out the sheets you were given that have the programs listed on them, your mind far away from where your body currently is. 

After a while of doing that, Kenneth turns to you with a small smile. “You doing okay?” He asked, making you look up at him. “You seem a bit quiet today.”

“Do I?” You ask back and look around the campus again. “I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m sorry.”

He laughs and takes the papers from you, setting them down on the table you were standing in front of before leaning against it. “That’s alright, Miss Y/l/n,” 

You look over at him and cross your arms. “I have a first name, you know,” you joke, leaning against the table as well. “Why do you always call me by my last name?” 

Kenneth shrugged as he smiled at one of the students. “Sounds more professional that way, doesn’t it?”

You also shrug as you look down at the grass. “Makes me feel old,”

“You are nowhere near being old,” he said and you laugh under your breath. “I just want to treat my students like the adults you all are. That doesn’t mean you’re old.”

Nodding, you gaze around at the teens who all seemed so excited to start the next chapter of their lives. You remembered when that was you, fresh out of high school with Anakin by your side as you tried to figure out what you wanted to do. Anakin had it all planned out, and it wasn’t long after that when he had managed to get himself a manager and secure a world tour at the age of twenty. 

Your eyes burned as you tried not to reminisce about those times. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Kenneth narrows his eyes at you and leans over a bit, “What’s going on with you, huh? What’s got you so quiet?”

You press your lips together and shrug, “I don’t know, I just…” you stutter and let out a frustrated sigh. “I guess I just feel left out…with my boyfriend. He’s out there living his life with some of the best guys I know by his side, and I….I’m just here. Alone.”

You weren’t sure why you were telling your instructor, out of all people, this, but you were quickly realizing that you needed an outlet. You needed someone to listen and needed a way to get your feelings out instead of bottling them up all the time. 

You give him an embarrassed smile and look away, not wanting him to think that you were just some weak girl who can’t function without her boyfriend. “I’m sorry, you…you don’t need to know about all that,” 

Kenneth shrugged. “I don’t mind being the person you vent to,” he said, surprising you a bit. “People think college is the worst time of their lives; you’re lonely, broke most of the time, stressed beyond belief. It shouldn’t be that way, at least I don’t think it should. And as for you, I think you’re doing great for someone who is supposedly alone. You have a really…real way with words, Miss Y/l/n. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

You take in his words and realize that they’re probably the most supportive ones you’ve heard since you got here, and the fact that it was from your instructor and not your friends or boyfriend was a bit eye opening. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling your confidence deflate a bit as you begin to question if you were doing the right thing at this point in your life. 

“It’s okay,” he replied and stood up. “Come on, we have thirty graduates to inspire.”

You smile before following after him, still stuck in your own head about whether or not you are happy with how your life is going at the moment and also a bit worried that you had made a mistake.

[mixmangosmangoverse]

I am curious about your takes on Sayaka Miki 👀

Hello yes you have activated me. Sayaka is like my favorite character even if I don't talk about her much and I am tired of the fandom takes around her because they so blatantly ignore SO MUCH

The big thing for me is that her arc is a clear tragedy, and it's not only tragic but it's very obviously allegorical to a mental breakdown. From early on we see Sayaka doubting if she even "deserves" the wish, we see her trying desperately to live up to Mami's legacy, but she can't, because she barely knew the real Mami and can't comprehend that Mami was also flawed. Sayaka wants to be a hero, a selfless flawless hero, but she's human. She heals Kyosuke's hand, and she says it's to help him, but there is part of her that wants him to be thankful

And that's where I think a lot of people get her arc wrong. People, even those who like her and see the arc as meaningful tend to reduce it to Sayaka being upset she "lost" Kyosuke. That he didn't love her back. But it ignores further context

The thing that really broke her wasn't losing Kyosuke. That was the final nail in the coffin. It was discovering the truth about the soul gems. Discovering she's a husk and essentially a zombie. That's the reason she skipped school, that's the reason she started shutting off her pain. She realized she isn't even human anymore, and she wants to focus only on being a paragon.

I see the moments of Sayaka refusing to accept grief seeds as essentially a person refusing help that could save them. She knows it would help her, she knows it's good for her, but she's too far gone to want it. She doesn't see herself as worthy of it, she doesn't want help because she doesn't want to acknowledge she is still in pain.

The other big moment people ignore are her snapping at Madoka. Her snapping at Madoka, yelling and being angry at her, is a sign she's spiraling and refusing to accept help. She later cries about it, for hurting Madoka, and we see just how much her mental wellbeing has gone down.

With the train scene implying she killed the men she overheard, it's clear Sayaka just isn't well. The entire arc was her spiraling until she can't contain her emotions anymore and she dies from it. It's very easy to read Sayaka's arc as her suicide; she started hurting herself, refused help, and then eventually died because of it. Her arc means a lot to me as someone who struggles with a lot of the same feelings and so seeing people reduce her arc to "she's upset she didn't get the boy" is not only reductive but it refuses to engage with the meaning of her story

[lintubintu]

Kot Kot Review

I like Kot Kot a lot.

Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.

The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.

There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.

Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.

During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.

It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.

Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.

I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.

From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.

To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.

It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.

The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.

Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.

Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.

There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.

A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.

Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?

The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.

For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.

I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.

This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.

Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.

The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.

And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.

It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.

Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.

Let´s do that while we have the time.

[orikiys]

🔖 、 A LETTER TO MY EX

ᘛ 𓏧     ࣪    𖠵 희승 ☓ fem!reader. ꔪ ﹏ ᘒ angst implied exes warning loneliness can’t-move-on-ex not proofread & 798 words

remember the first time when we asked each other our favourite colours? i feel like yours has changed drastically. from blue to orange then back to blue and now? what is your favourite colour now? i forgot i can’t ask you that anymore. i don’t have the authority to ask. who am i to you now? just the past that you’re trying to forget so hard? i remembered another thing, i remembered the way you would convert time differences just so you could remind me to eat on time, to take my multivitamins on time, to give me a good luck message an hour before i left home, just so i didn’t feel alone.

now all i feel is dread. i’m surrounded by it. engulfed within the cores that no matter how hard i try to escape, an image of you never fails to pop up in my head. when i go to work, i see myself glancing at my phone out of habit as i used to when you texted me ‘have a good day!’. i still remember the first time you called me, i even remember the place where i picked up your call. it’s silly, it’s childish even, but i find myself walking down to that place sometimes and wondering what would have happened if i never picked that call? would we still be dating? would we still be in the phase where we asked each other our favourites?

you might not know this, but i added your city to my weather app a month after we broke up. it marked exactly a month since i’ve stopped receiving your phone calls, since i’ve stopped receiving any text messages from you. exactly a month since i’ve stopped knowing you. but i knew that no matter if it's been a month or five months, hating you might be the hardest journey. i still check the temperature of your city every day. but i have to stop myself from reminding you to carry an umbrella with you, because i don’t know where to find you anymore. you’ve gone. you’ve gone somewhere far away that even if i try to trace those steps they’ll just lead me to nowhere.

i still remember when i made snow angels and sent it to you. you called me a real life angel. upto this day, i can still see the shy smile on your when that ‘angel’ converted into a nickname. but now? even hearing that word anywhere makes me go into a deep hypnosis of what it felt like dating you. it felt complicated. each day i felt different emotions. one day i would be re-reading your texts a hundred times till they’re embedded into my brain and on other days i would be cursing you out for reasons i don’t wish to remember.

dating you had that spark in it, until it didn’t. until it just felt like carrying a burden all to myself. it felt suffocating to even open your texts just for me to see a simple ‘ok’ or just for me to see you’ve left me on read, again. just the way you left me all alone by myself. i thought we were special? i thought we were meant to be? but guess it was just me.

i tried to scab the areas you hurt, healed and then hurt again. but how could i scab my heart? it’s too precious. too fragile. but clearly it didn’t even take you a single regret when you broke that heart of mine. you were like the song that was always stuck in my head and like the words i never had a filter on. you just kept flowing all around me, making me lose myself into a tangled mess. i ended up embracing that mess in hopes you would call me your lover again.

i still wonder how it all happened. how the invisible cracks began to spiral the way more quickly until we could no longer bridge with words or actions. we started doing the bare minimum for each other and felt that it was enough. it wasn’t some sort of god’s plan but maybe it was all written in that book of fate because the more i think about it, the more i feel that this breaking apart couldn’t be fixed no matter how much the two sides tried to. except, none of the sides tried. we just stopped caring. there was no realisation until i felt you slip away from my grasp. until i had realised that i’d been wrapping my arms around something that was gone. a sense of nostalgia. perhaps the faded away moments. but i knew that i would answer if you reached out again. no matter the years it took. but i won’t ever forgive you for the way you threw that relationship out your head like an empty piece of cardboard lying at home. i won’t forgive unless i forget.

sincerely,

your angel