#I am so hot in a sickly way. and by god if that’s my only consolation for getting ill right before exams I will take it

[willowcrowned]

I am being so beautiful and tragic and brave right now

[silverhairsimp]

who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou

I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.

Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.

Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?

“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a hand on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.” 

The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back. 

He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work. 

“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…” 

His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.

“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.” 

You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.” 

“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.” 

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass. 

‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’

He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.” 

The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match. 

“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality. 

“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”

“Katsuki— you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.” 

“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives. 

“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time. 

Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!” 

Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki. 

“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!” 

It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall. 

Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in. 

You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed. 

“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…

[masuchu]

“𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆?” [WRIOTHESLEY]

what happens when your gaze is hopelessly bound to those seemingly innocent, but inexplicably lewd handcuffs your boyfriend constantly carries around with him? ‧₊˚

genre. smut! nothing actually happens, but the entire thing is extremely suggestive, mentions of bondage & punishment, manhandling lol

pairing. wriothesley x reader

love, masu. ah, i think this is an amazing way to get myself back into writing on this blog again! my real writing style is finally being shown haha, none of that sickly, too cute stuff. hope you enjoy!!!!! let me know if you want a part two :))

Wriothesley always spoke with such a sultry, sickening tone that left you feeling your heartbeat in places you usually do not. Perhaps the gentle rasp was what left you so at his mercy? Or maybe, the simple yet defined vocabulary he used when explaining his day, or in other, more intimate moments, what he would like to do to you.

Having said all of this, why could you care not a shred for his words this very moment? Why were absolutely none of his sentences registering in you hazed mind? Instead of paying attention like a lover should, you had your hungry eyes pinned on those alluring, metal cuffs dangling from his belt. The images they conjure, the activities they connote: it all left you salivating and shuddering in the office of the infamous Duke. (Or in terms more personal to you, your lover.)

“Like I said, the prisoners become rowdy when they get bored. I’ll need to implement— Sweetheart, are you listening?” Wriothesley’s eyes dragged across your abnormal, quivering form and he mentally concluded that something was … distracting you.

You jumped out of fear of your daydreams being exposed, but also in mild concern of the daydreams themselves and their insatiable nature. Nodding fast like a guilty toddler, you blurted,

“Oh, I have never been better! Whatever gives you the impression I am not okay?”

The man in question took a careful glance at your wide, doe eyes and stiff form. Suddenly, his head tipped back just an inch or two, and a low chuckle departed from his lips. (The action having a much more arousing effect on your nether regions than you would ever admit.)

“I said ‘are you listening’, not ‘are you okay’. Well done for exposing yourself, sweetness.”

If only he knew what else you were hiding, you thought gravely to yourself. In a naïve belief that he had unknowingly saved you from a mortifying admission, you attempted to go along with his interpretation of your abnormality.

“How silly of me! I really am not with it-!”

Your hips were suddenly locked in solid grip, hard enough to invoke deep, purple bruises along your skin, and you were yanked into a firm but comfortable chest. A chest you knew all too well.

“Also, don’t think I didn’t noticed the way you were looking at my handcuffs, pretty. Got something you wanna’ tell me?”

“You’re mistaken, I— It was simply a one time glance! Absolutely nothing to do with—!”

Your boyfriend removed one hand from your waist and weaved the remaining arm tightly around your waist entirely, keeping you firm against him. His now free hand took a delicate hold of your jaw, and whilst lifting it up his face travelled closer to yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips, and all you wanted for him to rearrange your guts then and there.

“Ah, and now you’re lying? Lying is not very becoming, especially not on you. It makes you bad, and do you know what I do to bad girls?”

His ragged yet stylish hair, his impenetrable, piercing eyes, his strong hold on your body. The physique of a God, you thought. Every aspect of him, how his eyes were intently fixes on yours, waiting for you to answer his question, to use your words— as he was always so keen on you doing. It all came together to allow you to blurt out such a meek, pitiful and uncertain whimper,

“You punish them, Your Grace?”

A devilish smirk tugged on his lips.

“Clever girl. Your little … imaginations might just be brought to life far earlier then you expected. Now strip.”

2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:04 am] 

Renjun hated waking you up. You looked so peaceful asleep, even when you had drool dried on your cheek. He hated to be the one to shake your shoulder and have you startle awake. And it was like that anytime anything interrupted your sleep, your alarm going off, a shake of the shoulder, Renjun calling your name quietly. Every single time, without a doubt, you’d wake up like you just heard someone screaming your name at the top of your lungs or heard a storm alarm blaring. But more than he hated waking you up, was spending so much time alone when it could very well be spent with you.

Today was a day that Renjun finally had free and he had already been up for two and a half hours. He spent one hour in bed hoping that the following minute would result in you waking up like a character straight out of a Disney movie. The following hour resulted in Renjun eating breakfast and drinking a coffee keeping an ear out for rustling sheets or the sound of footsteps.

After the next half hour, Renjun stopped being patient. He turned on the air conditioner to a temperature that you would really only use on the hottest days of summer. A temperature that was very much not needed now that it was cooling down to the fresher fall weather, especially in the mornings. Then he snuck back into the room and slowly tugged the blankets away from you. Any move you made would mean the blankets would no longer do their job of keeping you warm and covered up.

He tiptoed back to the living room and wrapped himself up in a warm blanket and his steaming hot cup of coffee. Any minute now you would be waking up and seeking his warmth, he felt himself getting excited at the thought of your sleepy cuddles.

Sure enough within 10 minutes of the air being cranked down and the blankets being stolen from you, you were quickly making your way to Renjun. You pulled the blanket from him and jumped on top of him before you pulled the blanket over the both of you. He had to school his face so as to not appear too excited to have roused you from your sleep.

“So cold this morning Jun,” he heard you mutter into his chest as you nuzzled as close as you could. God, you were so cute it was nearly impossible to keep his smile at bay.

He didn't even try to fight it when your freezing hands slithered beneath the back of his shirt to warm them, not even when they eventually came up to steal the still steaming mug of coffee from his hands.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and let his lips linger there while he mumbled quietly about how cute and needy you were when you were so sleepy in the mornings.

Then the damned air conditioner had to kick on right as he said that. Renjun closed his eyes in frustration as your head perked up at the sound and feeling of the now cooler room.

"Did you turn on the air?" you questioned. Renjun merely hummed in response, acting like he hadn't heard you, so you repeated yourself and got the same response.

"I know you can hear me Renjun. Did you turn on the air?" You questioned again, no longer laying on his chest but rather leaning up to make eye contact.

His voice raised in pitch to a whine, "Baby, I didn't want to wake you up! I was getting so lonely without you."

You huffed out a laugh before you went on about how turning on the air was a waste of money, "and don't think to even call me needy again when you're sneaking around and messing with me to get me to wake up. I mean, seriously, when have I ever slept so crazy that every piece of fabric on the bed ends up on the floor?"

He paled, he thought he had gotten away with that one. "I love you?" he offered in response.

"That's not always going to get you out of your messes, but I love you too. Now, go turn off the air and bring me my coffee how I like it," you replied with a sickly sweet smile.

[reds-writings]

OH MY GAWD YOU ARE SO FREAKIN TALENTED!

Seriously, every time you post, I immediately get this happy tingle inside. I think it’s basically a pavlov dog kind of instinct by now.

Everything you write feels so real. You take time with the details, with characterisation, you even write out the accents. It’s got this very meticulous quality to it, which is really rare and enthralling.

If you are feeling inspired by this prompt from the miscellaneous list, I would be thrilled to see what you can come up with

“The residual fear and anxiety after waking from a nightmare.”

thank you!! this is such a high compliment i am positively giddy. for this one i kinda did something different. reader gets comforted for once as opposed to rust! this drabble includes a bit of a sneak peek of what she went through after he left for alaska. fair to say it's a little heavy! hope you enjoy!

Nightmares visited you sparingly with the amount of attended therapy and self-care efforts you had made towards yourself over the past decade. It unfortunately hadn’t meant that they’d ever release your tired mind for good. Always involving the same scenario. July of 03. The Bayou. Those girls. Deafening gunfire riddling anything it could find. The searing pain of Lenny Broussard’s vengeful knife. You as the tragically doomed target. That stench of death burning your nostrils something sinister, stomach made to twist unforgivably. One way or another, you were forced to relive it on repeat in the inescapable realm of sleep. 

You’d had one tonight. It had maybe been a month or two since the last one but it shook you all the same. Ironically, the longer in between these nightmares the harder the come down was when they made their attack once again. Sweat stuck to you like some sickly second skin and your hands couldn’t cease their trembling no matter how hard you balled your fists. Defenses always remained high after these fits, like you’d somehow be unlucky enough to find yourself sent back in time to suffer the consequences of that failed raid in one torturously hellish loop. 

It had been raining hard outside for a while now. Using the violent downpour as white noise to helplessly quiet your unsteady mind, you had been curled in on yourself on the couch for God only knows how long now. The buzz of adrenaline had numbed your skin, keeping you locked in place like some petrified statue. The silent tears that once ran blood hot now stained your swollen face in a dry track as you fought off any lingering tremors. 

The sound of shuffling footsteps on hardwood had your aching muscles tightening up again and sinuses stinging with the threat of incoming saltwater. A hesitant hand came to rest on your hair, freezing in place at your sudden jolt at the contact. But you knew that touch. That veil of cigarette smoke and cologne that was so uniquely Rust. He hadn’t ever seen you like this before. Ever. The both of you hadn’t been able to really talk about all that he missed from Alaska. The window of opportunity had no room to present itself in the midst of you giving your all to making sure he healed successfully over the past several weeks.

His careful fingers brushed the curtain of hair obscuring your troubled face to tuck what they could behind your neck. He’d gotten a glimpse of some of the old scars from the gruesome attack here and there but you were careful to keep most out of view for his fragile sake. The one taking up most of the left side of your face often rendered him painfully remorseful whenever he really focused on it. An unmerciful marker to remind you both of the near-fatal blow that almost robbed you of life once and for all. His throat would always find itself tightening at the thought of having been so casually unaware of what horrors had occurred due to his ill-fated cowardice. From what he gathered, you had gone at it all alone minus the initial help from your sister living in New Orleans. Marty hadn’t offered much on the story. Whether it was because he didn’t feel like it was his place to share or he wasn’t around for much of it at the time, Rust hadn’t the nerve to ask. 

When you made no further shuddering movements, he gently maneuvered your trembling form into the haven of his lap. His other hand came to guide your head to his erratically beating heart. Discovering you so visibly small and frightened did plenty to set him off. You always cared for everyone else more than you ever would for yourself. It was a rare occurrence for him to be the one cradling you as opposed to any other scenario where it always seemed to be the other way around. 

“It’s okay, baby.” He kept his tone hushed as he gently rocked you back and forth. The tenderness of the notion had your body wracking in reviving sobs. All he could do was continue to sway and mumble words of comfort so that he may just ease your mind by a fraction. 

“We’re safe. You gotta breathe for me, baby. Breathe. Just like that.” Rust exaggerated inhaling and exhaling for you to follow. Soft kisses dotted your hairline as your hands unfurled to wrap around his sturdy midsection. If you had half the mind, you’d be embarrassed to find yourself balled up like some baby in your lover’s arms. You couldn’t find it in you to care one bit. No one could do what he was currently doing for you now in all the time you had been alone. 

Once your breaths had started to calm down again he moved your head so that he could see you more clearly despite still being shrouded in the dark. You were sure you were a grisly sight. Snotty, sniffly, puffy, and all. He didn’t give a shit about any of it. His heart burned all the brighter at the vulnerability you entrusted him with enough to display. The calloused pad of his thumb drew itself feather-light over your scar, making your eyes flutter shut. Not much about you had changed, not much could with an eternal beauty like yours, he decided. 

He brought himself down to kiss your marred cheek, then reverently once more to your forehead, before tugging you closer into his body as if to act as a shield against the world around you. 

“I’m sorry.” It seemed to be the only thing he could say lately. You just shook your head and nuzzled in as much as you were physically able, sticking to him like makeshift velcro. You just wanted to feel less at a distance from everything with him by your side. 

Rust was your tether and he’d be damned to ever let you go again. 

[soullessmocha]

heaven.

{ karlach x gn!tav }

rating: everyone

warnings: light spoilers, mild gore, death, angst

word count: 1499 

like with most of my writing i rarely re-read and go over it. i am mediocre writer with heavy bg3 brain rot after finishing my first playthrough of the game.

Your body felt cold yet hot at the same time as you felt life drain out of you. You stare blankly at the ceiling of the foyer in the House of Hope, a demonic spike going through your chest. “You dare to mess with me, steal my from me! Look how piteous thing you are. Let this remind your friends- AH!” Raphael hisses in your ear, his new form causing nothing but the smell of flint and death before he was slain. You barely realize how far your own body was flung until you hit the last soul tower, it crumbles over you as your body splatters on the ground. The horrific roars coming from the devil himself only deafen your ears more. You can’t hear anything. Just the ringing from your head and the screams. You couldn’t tell if it was your scream or your adventurous friends. Maybe even your lovers.

The hot weight of the stone was being ripped off of you. It’s a warm hand that turns your body over. “Oh gods, no, no, no, no…” The warm, honey-like, voice soothes through the ringing. You were saying the same thing as your body began to get so increasingly cold that even turning your joints brought splintering pain. “Hope, please! Help!” Wyll cries out but Hope can only stand over you with a distant look on her face. Karlach ripped off your armor to see where the damage was starting, “You’re not dying here soldier!” Her voice cracks, it makes your blood-stained lips curl slightly. Your bare hand grasps her bicep, “Karlach… No,” you choke out. She doesn’t listen to you.

With your body being moved you let out a blood-piercing scream that even the tadpole in your head couldn’t stand as it vibrated in your cranium in reaction. It was losing its life source. You. Karlach settles you on the sigil glowing in the foyer marble flooring. It was so cold for a place that was burning in one of the levels of Hell. The shiver sent down your spine only made a reaction in your body to spasm, cough up more congealed blood that was threatening its way through your system. Everything was shutting down on you. You couldn’t feel your lower half anymore. 

“We’re going to get you to Shadowheart-” Karlach choked out, her tears being burnt down her cheeks. Something she hasn’t been able to do in gods knows how many centuries. She was supposed to be the first one to go with her infernal engine only being a ticking time bomb. Not you. Not her deepest of love. Not her very own heart. She covers the puncture wound with her own hands, trying to stop the blood from seeping through anymore. She could only wince at your whimper from the pressure. 

“Please, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Karlach begs you, her forehead resting on yours. The warmth comforted you as everything around started to get dark and fuzzy. Yet Karlach was the only thing shining bright for you. In this moment her words of confession roamed in your head. It just wasn’t meant in the stars for the two of you but to go out with a bang was all she needed. 

You weakly feel your hand raise to her cheek, your thumb gently tracing over her features to memorize them one last time, “Out with a bang, right?” You couldn’t even recognize your voice, your hand slid from her cheek to her soft hair, feeling the locks one last time. Death was knocking on your door but you were fighting every second to be with your love. “You're going to go to Avernus,” you hiccup to get air into your lungs, “fix that damned engine of yours and make that bastard pay for what he’s done.” Your body spasms again as the sickly iron-tasting crimson splatters from your throat. “Don’t bring me back… Don’t ask Withers. You save the city. Save yourself. Then come and get me…” Your lower lip trembles as your world starts to crumble around Karlach her glow shining brighter as her sobs become more violent. She was shaking her head at your request. She didn’t even want to think about going through this alone, without her solider by her side. It couldn’t be done. Not without you by her side. 

“Please, don’t go.” Karlach whimpers against your cheek while she peppers warm kisses all over your cold skin, burying her face in the crook of your neck. “I can’t do this without you!” Her voice increases in volume and the flames dancing on her burgundy skin glow blue. All you can do is hold her close while her body curls around yours, rubbing her back with numb arms. “I love you,” you whisper in her ear but before you were able to place one last kiss on her beautiful face you slipped away. Your soul knew deep down that everywhere would be hell without Karlach by your side in whatever afterlife there was as it dissipated away.

Her back felt empty as your strength faded. Her body could nearly melt you away from how cold you were in her arms. “Tav?” she whispers noticing your arms fall by her side, caught on her armor. “Tav, wake up!” She lifted herself from your body, hovering to look you over. The sight horrified her. No longer did your eyes glimmer with life, they were dull. Lifeless. Your skin is pale and clammy from the damned heat of hell. Karlach gently cupped your cheek, her long nails gingerly brushing hair from your expressionless features. Your eyes were staring at the damning mural in the foyer ceiling. Karlach gently closed your eyes. Her warm lips pressed on each eyelid. Strong arms curl under your body to bring you close.

She stood shakingly, weak in every joint as a part of her had fled this realm. Tears flowed down her cheeks yet she was stoic. Unable to rest until your body was at peace. “I love you, **ph myirz.” 

You wake up in a familiar stone enclosure. Withers stood over your body watching you closely to make sure everything went right to his ancient doings. All you could do was blink up at the forgotten god. “Breatheth. Thee wilt beest did confuse and has't many questions. Howev'r, holdeth onto those folk and liveth again f'r tonight.  Th're is a celebration happening and many art waiting to seeth thee.” His dried hands help you sit up and bring your feet over the stone bed. 

Withers only gives you a nod towards the archway where you can hear music playing and chatter dancing in the air. You take in recognition of your own hands first, this is your body still. Nothing changed. Until you notice how quiet your mind is. Slipping off of the stone bed you run a hand through your hair, gripping the roots to set the reality that there is no more tadpole squirming in your brain.

As you walk across the tree bark others turn silent and watch you emerge from the shrubbery.  Eyes all new and foreign greet you with a softness only few could recognize as relief, their mourning was gone. Yet your eyes only searched for one flaming person. Then you see her around the bend of the stone. Karlach stood over the fire, her arms crossed as anxiety rippled over her features. Gold glowing eyes pierced into the bonfire as if she was silently praying to whatever god would listen to bring you back. Yet the sharp gaze stopped when she noticed you, standing afar. She could smell you again. 

The lost expression on your features made her grin fasten wider. Both of your bodies slammed into one another as you ran towards each other. This was your Karlach, not some twisted hell. It was her. The same scent of vanilla and ember came off of her heated skin. Tears blurred your vision, you buried your face in her neck. “You did it.” You whisper against her skin. Karlach only rocks the both of you. It seemed as if the world around the two of you didn’t matter anymore. “I did it,” she repeats after you before gently pulling you back to get a good look over you.

You could feel your very own heat rush to your face as her golden orbs take in your features. You hadn’t known how long it had been since she’d last laid eyes on you but from the looks of it. Too long. “Are you just going to keep staring or kiss me Karlach?” you quipped at her which broke her concentration. Her soft solemn smile turned into a cheeky grin as her hand landed just above your lower back and pulled you close, “You don’t have to ask me twice soldier.” 

With her lips planted on yours and the intoxicating smell of her scent, you knew this was heaven. She was your heaven.

** ph myriz = my heart (infernal)

[hobunaga]

Who are YOUR top blood of youth characters and ships??!!

(This is jianghushenanigans btw I can’t change the blog I send asks from)

oh hi!! I just want to clarify that I'm still pretty new to the series and most of the information I know is from the Donghua instead of the live action. On top of that, I've only seen Season 2 and 3 of the Donghua since Season 1 was wiped off Youku for some reason so I never got to see what happens in it. I have no idea what happens in season 1 of the Donghua and began watching the live action to find some answers... news flash, I am still really confused by a lot of stuff because it doesn't seem accurate to what was depicted in the flashbacks of the donghua and what happened in the first 10 episodes of the live action? Not entirely sure why though....

Anyways, I'm on episode 14 of the live action and only watched Season 2 and 3 of the Great Journey of Teenagers Donghua. On top of this, I am watching the Dark River donghua series and I just got caught up 2 days ago. I plan to watch the Brewmaster series but I want to catch up on what is going on in the live action first. It's hard juggling 2 timelines.

ANYWAYS, who are my favorite characters? I'll just go top 3 for now.

in third place, it's Lei Yunhe.

He is just so damn hot idk??? like my god did they have to design him looking so damn cunty? He's just visually stunning but I don't know too much about his backstory. From what I understand, he's very sad because of his arm situation but I was almost 80% sure he had 2 hands until I watched the live action and saw he only had 1. Even his liveaction counterpart is beautiful... like what???? men???? anyways. I only like him visually, his personality and storyline I'll have to reread to understand what really happened.

in second place, it's Lei Wujie.

He is my son, I birthed him myself. It's true. I did. jk jk jk. He's just so adorable and the typical main character archetype you usually see in donghuas... but he's very precious and I just want to protect him. I think out of everyone in the story, he has the most growth and I love to see him win. Gosh 2 Lei's in the top 3??? Am I a Leimen stan?

in first place, it's Su Muyu

He is just so ugly, so strange, and so prickly??? but I love him. His character is very dynamic and unique, I love seeing someone with strong intentions but an even stronger belief battle out their differences in the essence of the story. He's an assassin but he's not ruthless or destructive, he just wants to get the job done and not hurt anyone that doesn't need to be hurt.

I just really like his character in general, even his pale sickly design... But I do not like how they wrote him in his spin off series, Dark River.

THIS CHARACTER IS JUST NOT HIM, tf??? They turned him into a typical main character archetype all because they didn't want a morally gray main character running the show. He is not Su Muyu from Blood of Youths and I refuse to believe this is canon yet cause... WTF IS THIS SU MUYU??? Why did they do this to him? They gave him a cool wife though and I love her to bits but they could have left him morally gray and clinically depressed. Either way, I am watching to see if his personality will eventually shift into the Su Muyu we see in the present day or if they're going to keep him as this shining protagonist... this will change in the near future.

HONORABLE MENTION: Mu Yumo

so the main reason why I like her is because in the Blood of Youth, she's wearing ethnic Miao clothing. Which I too am Miao so I thought she was a Miao woman but it turns out... it's just her outfit for the Donghua. In Dark River she also underwent the same changes that Su Muyu did and I am not sure how I feel about her in the Dark River series. She's funny for sure but I will have to keep watching to make a concrete decision about her.

overall, my favorite is, Hot guy, my son, and ugly but cool goth guy.

My Favorite ships are

in third it's Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoyi

I think they have so much potential, I want Lei Wujie happy and I wouldn't mind a polycule with Xiao Se or Shikong in there either. They're an adorable pair and I hope they both get together.

in second it's Xiao Se's brother and his servant

specifically the live action cause they just seem to understand and support each other without any fail. I don't remember his servant showing up in the Donghua but at least in the liveaction it seems Xiao gege is very much one to let him touch him freely and hold his hand. How cute is that?

In first place, it's Su Muyu and Bai Hehuai

I know this isn't Blood of Youth but I'm gonna cheat and put this in here because I really like them together. I just wish they made Su Muyu closer to the version he is in the Blood of Youth storyline rather than this shining main character syndrome he has become. I don't know where she is in current story but I hope she doesn't die later on....

ALL IN ALL, I like a lot of ships besides these main 3. Lei Wujie x Xiao Se x Tang Lian x Shikong, x Ye Ruoyi x Fairy Rui x Wuxin... they'd all be a cute couple together or separate or anything really. I also like the idea of Lei Yunhe and Zhao Yuzhen in a way??? I can't imagine Lei Yunhe with Li Hongyi though cause I don't know how related they are and his brother/best friend is interested in her already. I like Li Hongyi with the pretty master who also lives in Xueyue city. Another weird couple is Mo Yi and Baili Dongjun cause he agrees to stay with him for 10 years.... and Su Muyu and Mu Yumo because she supports him and I can fuck with that.

Since I am new to the series though, these are subject to change. Thank you for asking... I probably got so many details wrong though.

[jecksaa]

Once a Coward

I apologize for this, I never thought I would ever write about the coward himself, but I had a lot of fun writing this and am actually proud of it. It is dedicated to @twitchydownfall So please give it a read! word count - 3.6k Please remember MDNI - this is SMUT - only read is 18+

This is the OC in the story - Cassie Blanc

Her desk had papers scattered all over, files stacked high, her glasses making indents in her skin as she rested her head on her forearms watching her co-workers rush around in a panicked stat. They had received word that some higher ups were coming past today, and they all wanted to make an impression. Working in the records department for the Ministry was a challenge but Cassie liked a challenge, having to suck up to officials was the bane of her existence. Cassie didn’t care for them, she cared that it was too damn hot in this stuffy office and regardless of the windows being opened it did not relieve her one bit. The buttons on her shirt undone a little lower than any of the other modest women in her department, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and her shoes discarded under her desk. A heavy sigh, lifting her arms above her head, pulling herself into a satisfying stretch. Looking down at her desk, at the papers she continued on with her work, the quicker it was done, the quicker she could sink herself into a pint. It was nearing the days end, and her co-workers had started to ease their concerns of the higher ups visit. The click of the door and the loud booming voice startled everyone. “Good Afternoon, all of you!” The older man’s voice was gravelly, like he had been smoking cigar’s his entire life. Five different men made their way into the uncomfortable office, Cassie’s boss was the first to greet the older gentleman, shaking his hand vigorously. All the staff, including her gave a short bow to the official figure. As she raised from the bent position, her eyes were drawn to one of the men that stood there, awkwardly. She snickered to herself, he had grown taller, a bit bigger than when she saw him last, his face not as round but it was undoubtedly him. “Ms. Blanc, here please…” Cassie’s boss called for her, his hand gesturing her to come forth. She rolled her eyes at this display; just fucking get it over with so she can drink. She walked towards the men; a sickly-sweet smile spread across her face. “Sir, I would like to introduce you to one of my best workers. Cassie Blanc.” Her bosses’ hand was on the small of her back. She took a step forward, hand reached out towards the older gentleman, who reluctantly took it. A soft shake, a courtesy smile. She took a step to the side, allowing the men to continue their conversation, her presence now in front of the man she recognised. She watched his eyes drag over her appearance, her pinned up black hair half fallen out and slightly curled due to sweat and the heat, the way her shirt was slightly undone, her skirt that was tied to the side, showing a little too much knee. She watched his gaze settle on her feet, shoeless, only wearing her stockings. She wiggled her toes, a bright red blush crept underneath his round glasses. “Hello, Duncan. It’s been a while.” Cassie battered her eyelashes at him. “Hello, Ca-ssie. Yes… it has been.” His voice cracking slightly, the other men that accompanied him trying to contain their laughter. She shot them a glance, gods she disliked those type of men. They stood there in silence while the men spoke to each other about meaningless business, her boss laughing at unfunny jokes, and inviting each other out for a drink which she knew would never come to fruition. She spotted Duncan’s gaze settle back on her, the blush slightly returning to his cheeks. She wondered if he was remembering their little game of truth or dare in seventh year.

~~ A large group of them had sunk themselves into a couple of bottles of fire whiskey during a Quidditch match party and decided it would be a smart idea to play a few rounds of a childish game, ‘truth or dare’. Most of them just wanted an excuse to sneak off and snog one another. She was drunk enough to think it was a good idea, a couple of rounds had passed, and they had found out a lot about everyone involved. Sebastian and ‘the new fifth year’ had slept together in some precarious places, Poppy had an older boyfriend who had graduated a year prior, Garreth and Imelda had snogged each other a couple of times, and Duncan had never kissed anyone. Everyone made jokes towards the Ravenclaw, Ominis laid into him in particular. Cassie felt a little sorry for him, call it pity in a way. It was Leander’s turn, he picked Cassie as his target. “Alright, Blanc… Truth or Dare.” Leander asked. “Dare.” She was always an overly confident Slytherin. “I dare you…” Leander looked around at the group, a smug smirk spread across his lips. “to take Puffskein Dunkein into a broom closet and make out with him.” Leander’s eyebrow raised at the request. Cassie copied the smug look, pulling herself up from the ground, walking over to Duncan and outstretching her hand. “What you say, Duncan?” He just looked up at her, in disbelief and embarrassment, not a word spoken from the boy. He took her hand and Cassie dragged him into the hall and to the nearest empty broom closet. It was dark and a little cramped, she pulled her wand from her pocket and casted lumos before setting her wand on a shelf. Duncan was avoiding eye contact, no matter where her head moved, his moved the opposite direction. A soft sigh, her back against the shelves that lined the closet. They could just stay here for a few minutes then leave and say the deed was done, none of them would be wiser and Duncan could graduate being less of a joke amongst her friends. A few silent minutes had passed, he had just stood there fidgeting with his hands. Cassie’s impatience was beginning to grow, maybe she could have some fun with the coward.

“You know Duncan, it’s alright if you are nervous. I was too for my first kiss.” Her voice was deliberately meek.

“I’m not… nervous.”

“Oh, you’re not. My mistake.” She chuckled to herself, his eyes catching her smirk. She was finally able to see part of his face, his cheeks looked like they would burn if you touched them. She so badly wanted to find out. He still fiddled with his fingers, low in front of him, almost on purpose. A small snicker brushed passed Cassie’s lips, she leaned a little lower against the shelf, resting her elbows behind her. She lifted her foot and dragged it up the inner part of his leg, frightening Duncan, he stumbled back into the shelves behind him. Still within proximity of her foot, she continued to graze over the fabric of his pants. His hands clasping shut in front of him, his voice stammering for words.

“What’s wrong, Duncan… not enjoying yourself?” Cassie tilted her head to the side in question, waiting for a response.

Nothing came from the flustered boy. She continued to drag her foot higher up his thigh, softly jostling the fabric against his skin. A squeaky, cracked moan filled the space between them, Duncan’s eyes snapped to hers in embarrassment. She smiled and continued her journey upwards. She gently kicked his hands out of the way before resting the sole of her shoe against the tightness in his trousers.

“All flustered over the idea of a kiss, are we?” She mused.

His hands pushing her foot away, turning his head to the side. “No need to tease me about it. It’s not like you would actually kiss me anyways.” Duncan sounded sad.

That sounded like a challenge, and Cassie loved a challenge. She took a step towards him, her hands reached for those burning cheeks, pulling his focus back to her. Her eyes widened at the state of him, half teary eyes. Something in her awoke that day, something sadistic, it made her heart sing. She pulled Duncan in by the cheeks, her lips crashing into his roughly, quickly. Their glasses clinking together for a moment before she adjusted.

All she could taste was fire whiskey and mint, he must have brushed his teeth before coming to the party. Smart boy. Her hands ran up into his hair, pulling him into her and pulling them back against the shelves. She ran her hands down to his, places them on her waist. Knowing he wouldn’t do it on his own. The kiss was a little clunky, awkward, but fine for his first. He could only get better from her, she thought.

She ran her tongue against the seam of his lips, they slightly parted to allow entry. Her tongue tangled with his, he was like a fish out of water. She could feel his hands shake slightly against her, also feel his excitement pressed into her lower abdomen. She rolled her body into his, catching his whimpers in her mouth. His kiss becoming a bit more frantic, tasting a bit salty now, she moved against him again, his hands gripped at her skirt, her waist, his fingers dug into her. She gave in for a moment, a moan being pulled from within. Duncan shuttered at the noise, a harsh grown echoing in the small space. They both paused for a moment, his head rested on her shoulder, his breathing was ridged. He pushed himself back, reality dawning on both of them. Cassie’s smirk was insufferable, Duncan’s face was a million different shades of red, his cheeks tear stained. She cocked her head to one side “Did you just…?” eyebrow raised. His gaze adverted hers. He sniffled to himself. She pushed herself off the shelf, taking a step towards him, her hand settling against his crotch. “Shame, I would have loved to have seen how much you cried with my hand wrapped around your cock. Maybe next time.” She gave a firm squeeze, a wink, before she grabbed her wand and left him alone. ~~

Cassie smiled at him, his gaze once again adverting her. A few more moments and pleasantries between the men passed, before they announced their departure. Duncan followed behind them, still sheepish in demeanor, before leaving the office he glanced back at her. She gave him a familiar wink, his eyes widened, hitting the door frame before rushing out of the office entirely. --- Finally, the day had ended, able to leave that stuffy office and sink herself into a few pints before heading home. Her co-workers had joined her, some in celebration of a successful visit, some just in dire need of comfort. They engaged in meaningless conversation and drank their selves stupid. It was roughly six pints in that Cassie realised she had forgotten some take home work that she was meant to complete over the weekend, for fuck sake. She was too eager to escape, thankfully the Ministry was on her way home, an easy run in and out. After another round of drinks, she decided it was time to make the trek back to the office before heading home to be swallowed by her bed. She said her goodbyes and stepped out into the still warm night; the streets were littered with patrons on various journeys of their own. Some being pulled into alleyways for secret affairs, some fighting with others over stupid issues, and some just enjoying the night. The Ministry halls were quiet, dimly light at this hour. She wondered lazily through the passageways, normally having to push past loiterers, officials or just your general annoyance. Her office was on the sixth floor, down a corridor that ended with her boss’s office. She rounded the corner, her eyes drawn to the door at the end of the corridor with a window of half glazed glass. The light was still on, two figures could be seen every now again moving back and forth. The closer she got, the noises a bit more prominent. Her eyes rolled a little to hard, she wondered which new girl would be joining them at the beginning of the following week. “Anything for a promotion, I guess.” Cassie muttered to herself, as she pushed the door to the office open. Leaving it ajar for the bit of light her boss’s office gave, she moved towards her desk. Leaning over she flipped through the files on her desk, she picked out the ones labelled ‘urgent’. She doubted they were actually urgent, more likely last minute and her boss was clearly to preoccupied to do them himself. “Umm… excuse me?” A familiar voice appeared behind her. Cassie turned her head towards the door, meeting Duncan’s eyes. “Can I help you, Duncan?” “I was meant to give these to your boss, but he’s umm…” He raised his hand, holding some files. He paused at the thought of what was happening behind that closed door. “In a meeting.” She chuckled, shifting herself to face him, he nodded. “I can take those for you, I’ll make sure he gets them.” Cassie held out her hand, Duncan slowly walked over to her. “Thank you, it’s very important that he gets these.” His voice was soft, handing over the files. Cassie nodded, taking them, and placing them on her desk. She brought her attention back to Duncan, who was just standing there, in all his awkwardness. “Is there something else, Duncan?”

“It was… umm…” He paused for another moment “really good to see you again.” A small smile graced his face. She leant her head down, grabbing his attention. “Really good to see you as well.” The alcohol had really settled in “It brought back such a fond memory from seventh year.” Her lips pulled into a faint smirk. Duncan’s eyes snapped to her “Oh, is that so…” She could see the faintest tinge of red to his cheeks. “Yeah, it is. You know I was thinking…” She observed his expression “I do believe this could be ‘next time’” A playful wink directed at him. He stuttered at her remark, unable to give a coherent answer. Cassie reached her hands out, looping her fingers between his belt and trousers, giving a small tug towards her. His feet stumbled forwards, knocking into her, and pushing her backside into her desk, his hands caching himself on her desk. “Only if you want too though.” She purred into his ear, watching a shiver run through him and his head nod slightly. Her lips skimmed his cheek, she could feel the warmth against her skin. His head moved instinctively; their lips brushed together. Her tongue wet hers slightly, pressing themselves together feverishly. He still tasted of mint, but a little sweeter this time. Their glasses scraped against each other’s, before adjusting. The kiss wasn’t awkward, her mind flashed at the thought of him kissing other women. A slight pang of jealously crept in, her fingers pulling at the belt tighter. A shaky gasp caught on her tongue, the hands that had been beside her started grabbing at her hips, forcing her up onto her desk. Her skirt was being gathered between them; Duncan pulled her thighs into him. His arousal pressing into her core, her hips rolled against him. Both moaning at the friction, her fingers slid to the buckle, quickly undoing his belt. Her fingers fiddling with his trouser buttons. She slightly broke apart from the kiss “I see you’re not a coward anymore.” Whispering into his ear, she felt him slightly twitch against her. Both pausing at the sudden movement. Fuck she loved the panicked look that grew on his face, finally it was ‘next time’. Not wanting this to pass, she slipped her hand into her pocket, grasping her wand and accio’d the chair that was placed under the desk behind him. Giving him a slight push on the chest, Duncan fell back into the chair. Breathy and panting lightly, she dragged her eyes over him. His face flushed, eyes darting between her face and her legs, which were still parted from him, and his undone trousers that still looked too tight. “Take your trousers off.” She ordered. He shuffled in the chair, pushing his trousers down around his ankles. “Good boy.” A pleased hum directed towards him. Cassie slipped her shoes off, hitting the ground. She rested both her feet on his thighs, rubbing them in place against his skin. The whimpers that left him, made her stomach tighten. Her foot ran higher, settling on his erection, she leaned back on her desk, papers under her palms.

Her eyes narrowed on him “Coward.” His hips slightly bucked into her foot, whimpering again at the touch. Cassie sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down. “Again, coward.” His hips rolled again, harder this time. His whimpers turning into needy moans. She jerked her foot over his length, watching it twitch and leak against her foot, seeping into her skin-coloured stockings. Her toes brushed against his tip, his eyes flickered shut, lips pressed tightly together. Her foot pressed firmly into him “Eyes open, Duncan… don’t want to miss anything.” Almost commanding, she watched as his eyes slowly opened. Cassie slid her hand between her thighs, pressing her index and ring finger into the soft cotton of her undergarments. She gently rubbed against her core, the material quickly becoming damp at her touch. Slow, deliberate mewls escaped her. She could feel Duncan rutting himself against her foot, his hands began caressing her calves. Fuck it felt good, she almost let herself cave at his touch. She could hear his desperate attempts to relieve himself. Snatching her leg back, and resting it against the armrest of the chair, her fingers working slightly faster. Oh gods, it really did feel good to be watched. She quickly disposed of her undergarments, digging her nails into her stocking, making an opening for her fingers. Duncan’s hand grasped himself, working himself over. Cassie would allow it for now, she needed him close for her plan to work. His noises filled her ears, she was always fond of men that were noisy in this regard. Her fingers sunk in-between her folds; she hadn’t realised how wet she was. Making herself whine desperately, fingers pushing in further. “Ahh… fuck~ “ Her voice was strained, she chased the building feeling that was coming from deep within. Duncan’s hand was working faster, fucking merlin she needed to finish before him. His staggered moans, half needy whimpers hit her like a Graphorn. Her legs shook, a loud, unrestrained moan was pulled from her. Her slick coating her fingers, her palm. Sliding her fingers out slowly, eye contact not breaking from Duncan’s. She slid her bum off the desk, her legs resting on each side of Duncan’s thighs. Clicking her tongue at him, she seated herself in his lap, pulling his hand from himself. A whine in protest, her slick, wet hand wrapped around his cock, deliberately pulling at him, coating him in her own arousal. “One rule, cowards aren’t allowed to cum until I say… unless you want me to punish you.” She watched as Duncan swallowed the saliva in his mouth, his throat bobbing at her demand. Her hand worked over his shaft, occasionally brushing her thumb across his leaking tip. His noises were full of shame, pitiful begs, and soft sobs as tears welled in his eyes. This is what she wanted to see, Duncan a complete and utter mess. Her hand pumped a little faster, his hips jerking upwards following the motion. “Does that feel good, Duncan?” Her breath tickling his ear. “Mhmm…” A sob filled muffle; Cassie shook her head in disapproval. “Words, coward!” His slightly puffy eyes back on her, his cheeks wet, stained with his tears. A cluster of short sniffles, clearing his throat “Y-es… really… ahh- good.” Her hand gripped tighter, Duncan let out a loud gasp.

Her motion was tender, drawing his cries out further. His head falls back, Cassie’s tongue is against the bare skin of his neck, tracing along his jaw. She dragged it up his cheek, a salty taste on her tongue. “You are being such a good little coward for me, Duncan.” She purred into his ear, his length twitching against her thrusts. His head still pressed back into the chair, unable to muster a response. Duncan’s desperate cries of needing relief, her hand relentlessly teasing him. She slipped her free hand in-between his thighs, her fingers lightly grazing against his balls. He looked terrifically pitiful, her smile devilish. Cassie worked her hand rougher, faster. The other hand squeezing tightly on him. She observed his chest struggling to breath, his needy pathetic cries meld with his moans, his hips grind into her palm. “Cum, coward.” Her voice almost satisfied at the sight. Choked wails rushed from Duncan, his body convulsing under the pressure that had been pushed down. “Ahh-shi--t” Shuddering as her hand continued to stroke him, his cum sprinkled on his white cotton shirt, her fingers coated in the warm liquid as it dribbled down. He was a panting, shaky, sniveling mess. Cassie was delighted at the sight, a dream truly come true. Her clean hand slid into Duncan’s hair, pulling his eyes to her roughly. She pushed her coated fingers into her mouth, tongue lapping up the mess Duncan had made of them. Pulling them free, she pressed her lips up against his. Forcing his mouth open, she raised herself slightly, allowing gravity to distribute the contents into his mouth. Breaking briefly, she commanded “Swallow!” which Duncan was reluctantly to accept, but his throat bobbed as his own mess slid down his throat. Cassie pushed herself off the man, feet finding balance on the floor once more. She collected herself, undergarments and shoes, the files for home before running a finger under his chin, lifting his head up slightly. A knowing wink “Until next time, Duncan.”

[randomingoftherandomness]

hear me out: mjty college au where Yuanzhi and SGQ as queer besties. they bicker all the time but at the same time theres this underlying understanding between the both of them. Everyone thinks they're dating but just refuse to admit it, when GYZ actually has a crush larger than the moon on GSJ, and SGQ is pining for YWS

Have a good day!!

A/N: ROSIE I AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ;A;

I hope you like the take I did with it hehe

--

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

Yuanzhi shifts in his seat and purses his lips. Refusing to deign Shangguan Qian with an answer, he smiles shortly, pushing up his Versace sunglasses and leans back in his seat with his Starbucks drink.

"That's a bit rich coming from you," Yuanzhi snorts elegantly, taking a sip.

Shangguan Qian's hand pauses as she is transcribing her lecture notes, but she recovers and continues writing. "Didi--"

"Don't call me that--"

"Didi," She says, voice sickly sweet. "Did you hear what they're saying about us again?"

Yuanzhi sighs. "Which one is it this time?"

"The one where you are head over heels with me and you are absolutely bereft that I'm graduating in a semester, and that you won't be able to walk me back to my flat after my evening classes."

Yuanzhi physically shudders at the thought. "I would rather die than feel any sort of emotion other than relief that I won't have to share a walk home with you soon."

"The feeling is absolutely mutual," Shangguan Qian purrs, tapping her pen on her notebook. "Every time I have to see your face is the lowest point of my day."

"Likewise." Yuanzhi toasts her with his Starbucks cup and takes a deep sip as he spies the three figures coming out of the library building.

Immediately, it's as if the mid-morning autumn air shifts. He doesn't even have to look to know that everyone has begun to stop and stare. He doesn't blame them, too, the sight of Gong Ziyu walking with his girlfriend Yun Weishan and his cousin Gong Shangjue would make everyone stop for a moment. The three of them look like they've just stepped out of a magazine in their tailored clothes and perfect hair.

Yuanzhi turns away, looking back down on the tabletop, hissing when Shangguan Qian kicks at his ankle.

"He's coming this way!" She whispers.

Panic seizes Yuanzhi and he barely survives choking on his spit when he hears a quiet and low drawl saying, "Hello Yuanzhi, hi Shangguan Qian."

"H-hi Shangjue ge," Yuanzhi wheezes, taking a sip of his pumpkin-spiced latte and immediately wincing when the hot liquid scalds his tongue. A perfumed handkerchief is immediately at his jaw, dabbing at his face.

Shangjue is smiling at him as he wipes away the mess on his face, lingering on his lips. Quite possibly unaware of the minor death Yuanzhi is feeling on the inside.

"Are you doing anything later, Didi?" Shangjue asks. Yuanzhi shivers when the man thumbs at the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing I cannot heartlessly abandon," Yuanzhi answers immediately.

"Good," Shangjue says. "I was wondering if you would like to come with me to a new museum exhibit downtown? They have a section about poisons used in Renaissance Italy, and I remember how you told me you've always been interested in toxicology and I thought you might like--"

"Yes!" Yuanzhi gushes. Scrambling to push his sunglasses up to the crown of his head, he nods vigorously. "I mean, yeah, I'd love to."

Shangjue beams, lifting his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "Great. I'll meet you by the fountain at 2pm? Maybe we catch dinner in the city after? My treat."

If there is a god, strike him dead now, Yuanzhi thinks. He can die happy.

"Yeah," Is all he can manage when Shangjue smiles at him like that. His hand lingers where they're cupping his neck, but only for a moment, because Shangjue steps back too soon, then gives him a gentle "Bye" before walking away.

"It's like I'm not even here." Shangguan Qian snorts.

Yuanzhi slumps back into his seat. "What the hell just happened?"

"I think you just got asked out by the most popular student in our university, that's what happened."

He perks up at that. "Oh, shit!" He giggles.

Shangguan Qian rolls her eyes at him but doesn't say anything else. Doesn't have to when her eyes flit to where Shangjue is jogging back to. Ziyu and Weishan are both waiting in the shade of the library building.

Yuanzhi sees how her eyes turn soft and longing at the way Weishan and Ziyu link their hands, looking at each other with clear adoration. Whatever sharp barbs he had poised on his tongue, he packed it away. There's a time and space for everything. This wasn't it for that.

"Come on," He declares. "I can't let Shangjue think I'm not boyfriend material if I show up to our date in rags."

Shangguan Qian lifts an eyebrow. "You're literally dressed in Versace."

"And," Yuanzhi bulldozes on. "You know what they say about dressing for the job you want? Well, I want full-time employment as Gong Shangjue's boyfriend."

"I think that job's all yours by now." Shangguan Qian mutters under her breath, moving to pack her stuff.

Yuanzhi is feeling benevolent. He'll ignore her sass as long as she helps him pick out his outfit for his date today.

[viperpoisondark]

Dolled Up

Look, I don't know who’s going to read this, or even if anyone will, but I need to write what is happening, so it can help someone in the future. You may think that I’ve gone mad when I wrote this or that I’m making it up, and I would not blame you for it, but believe me, everything in here is completely real and I don’t even know how to explain or where to begin…

Ok, I’m going to start on the day that I’m sure it all started and when it all went to shit, but I’m warning you, nothing good will happen’ and if you value for your sanity and good sleep, don't read this, but if your already doing it, I imagine that something is already happening, good luck and may God help you. Well, here’s the first day: 

“It was a summer day in the city, a really hot day to be precise, and I was in the cafeteria of the school waiting for my friends, since this is the only day that our schedules match enough. While I was waiting, I decided to finish a resume in my notebook, until I got scared by the noise of someone hitting a book on the table that I’m sitting on. I looked up and saw a woman with dark skin and dark orange hair, my friend Noelly, smiling and holding a big book.

-Good morning ‘Elly - I said, a little irritated. 

-Good morning James! How are you on this wonderful day? - The woman asked while sitting in front of me. 

-I was good, until you gave me that scare…

-Haha! I’m sorry, but you were so concentrated and I couldn't help it! 

-Anyway, you are way over excited for a wednesday at 9 am. - I said while putting my books and materials in the backpack. 

-Well, one of us has to be, right? - Noelly shrugged - And also, we are finally meeting Arthur’s secret girlfriend! 

-Damn, I forgot about that… - I said a little surprised, now remembering that our friend sended us a message yesterday asking if he could bring his new girlfriend, who he hadn't stopped talking about for months, but never introduced to us. - Now I’m a little curious too.

After a while of just the two of us talking, we heard a car parking and when we turned around to see, it was Arthur’s, and speaking of him, on this day, he was normal, with a soccer team tank top and shorts jeans, with him was a woman, she was very different from the normal around here, she had dark purple hair, very curly, in two side ponytails and was dressed in those “lolitas” dresses, but all black, I was surprised of how much layers she's wearing in this heat, but what really got my attention was her clear skin, almost white, as if she has never seen the sun before, almost sickly. The two of then got closer and then they were right next to us: 

-Good morning guys! Sorry we’re late! - Arthur said smiling - Well, this is my girlfriend Delilah! - He pointed at her, with a silly smile, I even wanted to laugh. 

-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all! - Delilah smiled and waved her hand.

-It’s a pleasure to meet you too Delilah! I’m Noelly and this is James! - The red hair said, then got up to hug the others. - Come, sit with us! - The two of them sat in front of each other, with Arthur by my side and Delilah with Noelly. 

Everything got a little quiet, since no one knew what to comment, so I decided to say something:

-So, Delilah, it took a while for us to see you in person…

-I’m so sorry about that! I was doing an exchange in London and only came back this week! - She answered smiling, while holding Arthur’s hand above the table. 

-How fancy! What do you study? Did you exchange at which institute? - Noelly started asking, which I was happy about, because I didn't know what else to say.

-I study fashion! The institute is a very small one, not well known haha! - Delilah said laughing, moving her hand, like she was trying to shoo a fly. 

-So cool! I study History and James does Criminology - The purple hair girl only agreed with her head, to say she was paying attention and looked at me for a while, before changing her attention to Arthur. 

-How did you both meet? I don't think I remember Arthur telling us… - I asked, because I really didn't remember anything like this, it's like a part of my memory was missing. 

-Well… We met… - Arthur started, but Delilah interrupted him. 

-We met on a dating app, not a real exciting story to tell haha! 

-That's right! I looked at her picture and was like: Wow! That's a girl I’ve never seen before! - Arthur laughed and pretended to hold a cellphone to make the scene, making me and Noelly laugh. 

  We stayed like that, talking, until it was almost noon and we said goodbye so we could each go home and eat, until we heard all our cell phones beeping and a strange notification written: “A body found on campus, in the middle of the trees.” This gave me a shiver, I looked at the others, Noelly and Arthur were also looking at their cell phones scared, I looked back at mine and opened the notification, the rest was text talking about the exact location where the body was found and other things, but one thing I remember like it was yesterday was the way the body was killed: “Authorities believe that the body was hanged, the victim has dark bruises around the neck and on by the side of the body, a porcelain doll identical to the victim was found nearby.” And just below, photos of the victim… Saying that the person was strangled doesn't do justice to what appeared, his neck was completely broken, it looked like he was crushed with great force. It made me dizzy. I've seen bodies because of my college, but this... It was horrible.

Noelly suddenly threw her cell phone away and put her hands over her eyes, Arthur just hung up the phone and sighed, Delilah seemed shaken, but was trying to comfort Arthur. After a while we calmed down and looked at each other and started talking about what happened. (I would like to write the full conversation here, but the truth is that I don't remember almost anything about it, just how scared we were and how strange it was). Later, Arthur gave us a ride to our homes, he left each one and said to message if anything happens. (I should have sent that message…) When I arrived at my apartment, I saw a box in front of my door and a note saying that it was from my great-aunt. That's weird, it's been a long time since i've heard about my great-aunt, I entered the apartment and put the box in the tiny kitchen table, I went looking for something to open it, I found a pair of scissors and when I looked at the box again, I noticed that there was no sticker or tape, I shrugged my shoulders, I mustn't noticed that, when opening the box there was just a small porcelain doll, with a soft body and brown hair. I got goosebumps when I looked at it and left it in the box, I had a feeling of déjà-vu, but I ignored it again. Why would my great-aunt send me this? (Now I know it wasn't my great-aunt)

Classes were suspended for a week due to what happend and after that everything went back to normal, our lives continued. Noelly and I didn't see Delilah anymore, Arthur said it was because her classes started again and she was very busy. 

In one of my classes, we had to do a family tree and check if we have any interesting family history. Luckily, my family lives in the same city as me, so I went to my parents' house to ask something.”

I had to pause the narration for a bit, I think I heard someone coming…

It's her! She was here! I’m sure of it! I think I’m really going crazy… I’ll have to write this more quickly and with less details…

Where was I? Oh right, in my parents house…

“When I got there, I saw my mother with some boxes and asked what she was doing, she said she was throwing some old things away. I helped her as we talked about our family and she said that my Great-Great Grandmother came here from London with her baby son after her husband died, and that was where she met my Great-Great Grandfather and stayed.

I found the story interesting and asked if there was anything else, but my mother said she didn't remember and that my grandmother would probably know more. After a while helping and talking about other things, I left and went to my grandmother.

She lives in a big house, it's not quite a mansion, but it looks like it, and this house has been in the family for generations and it's always the eldest child who keeps the house. The house has three floors and is made entirely of dark wood. As soon as I arrived I rang the doorbell and waited for a while, my grandmother opened the door for me and let me in. We talked for a while and she offered me coffee and cookies, after that, she took me to the third floor of the house (which looked more like an attic) and showed me a box with several old photos of the entire family, until she showed me a black and white, almost faded, photo of an elderly woman and my grandmother said that this was my great-great-grandmother, and that her story is very sad.

My great-grandmother, Angeline, had to flee London because of the murder of her husband at the time, in 1839, which ended up leaving her a widow and a single mother of a baby who hadn't even been born yet. Upon arriving here in Brazil, she met her new husband, Pedro, and with him she had a normal life.

I was moved by the story (I just didn't know that this wasn't the whole story) and asked to keep the photo of my great-great-grandmother, my grandmother gave it to me and said to take care of it with care, I promised I would. After a while, when I was leaving the house, I remembered my great-aunt's gift and asked my grandmother about it and she said that her sister came these days, but didn't take anything with her.

-What did she give you, my dear? 

-Just an old porcelain doll - When I said that, my grandmother turned white as snow and I was sure she was going to have a heart attack, she held my arms tightly with both hands and looked at me scared.

-That doll has brown hair? And a crack in her face? 

-Y-yes… How do you know? Grandma, you’re hurting me… - She was becoming increasingly distressed and her grip on my arms was getting worse and worse.

-Listen, listen clearly James, I need you to listen to me - She spoke with seriousness and horror, I nodded, to show that I was listening. - Bring the doll here and no matter what happens, do not talk to her or take her out of the box, you didn't do any of that? Did you? - I answer that I didn't and that I only opened the box to look, but I didn't touch it - Ok, good, good. Now go! Bring me the doll and I will call your aunt… - She let me go and I ran to my apartment.

As soon as I got to my floor, I saw Noelly standing in front of my door, scared and crying. I called for her and she came running to me, hugged me tight while she cried on my shoulder. I asked her what had happened, and she told me Arthur was dead.

I was profoundly shocked, after that, everything was on autopilot and I felt like my ears were ringing the whole time.

I entered the flat along Noelly, she told me she tried to call me, but I told I didn’t have my phone at the time. She explained what had happened and told me he was murdered the same way as we saw that day (From here on things only get worse, quit reading while you can and believe it was all a dream). He was strangled at his own house and had a porcelain doll by his side. I asked Noelly how she knew that and she told me Delillah called her on Arthur’s phone, the woman seemed desperate and like she was crying her eyes out. I asked Noelly where she was now and she was at the police station giving her witness statement. In my appalled state I didn’t mind asking anything else. I just sat there, crying while Noelly hugged me and cried as well.”

I should have asked more! I should have suspected it! But… Fuck… I’m sorry Arthur, I really am… 

“Suddenly, me and Noelly were scared by my phone ringing, it was my grandma… That’s right, I should go give her the doll back… I explained the situation to Noelly and she told me she’d go with me, she didn’t wanna be alone at that point and neither did I. I got the box, made sure the doll was inside it, and left.

At my grandma’s house, my great-aunt was there as well. They let us in and we sat in the living room, the box sitting at the coffee table. The two started to tell me that my great-aunt was sure she didn’t take the doll neither to her house nor mine and my grandma is sure she didn’t see the other leaving with anything. (They both did it all, but they don’t remember). And they explained to me one more thing: when I was still very young, I was messing with some old things in the attic when I saw the doll and decided to play with it. My great-grandmother, who was alive at the time, quickly took it from me and pushed me away, making me fall from the stairs, which made me lose that specific memory. I was finding it all very weird, what was up with this doll? Why were they so scared of it? Noelly held my hand, a bit scared, letting me know we should head to the funeral.

-What funeral, my darling? - My grandma asked.

-A friend of ours was murdered… earlier today… - I said quietly, feeling like there was something in my throat.

-That sounds awful, I’m so sorry - The old lady put her hand on my shoulder.

-What happened to him? - My great-aunt asked.

-Zélia! This is not the moment to ask these things!

-It’s okay… He… - I started to explain what Noelly told me and the two women exchanged terrified looks. They both got up on a whim and started walking and whispering among themselves: “This should not be happening… after so many years… why now???” I asked them what they were talking about and they gazed at me like they had just seen a ghost. When my grandmother was about to answer, the whole house went dark, all the doors and windows were slammed shut and the only source of light was now coming from the fireplace, which wasn’t lit before, since the weather’s been warm. 

They both screamed and pointed to something behind us. When we turned around, we saw Delillah, but she was different: her lolita dress was ripped and dirty, her hair wasn’t tied anymore and it was huge with big curls… But… the worst was her face… Her face was white, white like… like porcelain and with a crack in the middle of her face, her eyes were completely black with only a yellow light inside them.

I got up in a hurry to ask what was going on, but I got a shock when I saw Delilah's hair moving and coming at me, I immediately dodged it and…(My God… My grandma…) And I saw that what she really wanted was the two ladies, the woman... No, that thing grabbed them both by the neck and squeezed them tightly, they both died almost instantly, hanging…

Noelly screamed and that woke me up, I grabbed her arm and ran to the second floor. When I looked back, I saw her taking two porcelain dolls like the old ladies out of a pocket in her dress and placing them next to them.... This has to be a nightmare, I thought, (I didn't know how wrong I was) we both ran up stairs and hid in a room, locking the door and putting a cabinet in front of it, we didn't know if it would help or not, but that's what we had … Noelly asked me what was happening while crying and I couldn't answer, because I didn't even know… Then we heard a voice coming from outside:

-Come on guys, there's no need to be scared, I'm not going to hurt you... If you promise not to tell anyone what happened here... After all, it's the least I can do as a thank you to my nephew for freeing me... - The voice wasn't the same one of Delilah that we met a few weeks ago, this one was deeper and seemed almost mechanical.

-What are you talking about?!?!?!? What nephew?? Why did you do that?? What are you?? - I screamed while crying too, I was so confused and desperate.

-Come out and I'll explain everything... - We heard footsteps moving away from the room we were in and everything became quiet. I looked at Noelly and she knew what I was thinking and shook her head. - We need to... We have no other way... And I need to know what's going on - I approached the door and took the cabinet out of the way and put my hand on the doorknob, Noelly put her hand on my arm and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so she closed it again and walked away.

I opened the door slowly and looked outside, everything was dark and when I stepped in, I felt something soft under me, I looked closely and it was hair... Purple hair, everywhere, on the walls, on the floor, on the doors, I almost threw up, but I moved on with Noelly right behind, we went down the stairs and arrived in the living room, where Delilah was standing, her hair was now everywhere, like spider webs and when we arrived, she opened her eyes and they followed us.

-Okay, we're here, now talk... - I spoke loudly, trying to seem like I wasn't scared, but I was shaking. Noelly held my hand and arm tightly at my side.

-Of course… I said I would… Where to begin? - That thing spoke while it moved forward, getting closer to us and I saw a spider coming out of its eye and going into its hair.

-What are you…?

-I’m a ghost… Delilah’s ghost, that can never rest…

-Why did you do that to my grandma and aunt?

-They would tell my secret… They would break their promise…

-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??? - I screamed at her, I was frustrated, scared, angry, disgusted, all the worst feelings I could have were here and I didn't know what else to do or say, I just wanted it all to end soon.

-The murders... It was me, all of them... I killed Angeline's, my niece, first husband... And after that I continued... I just didn't kill her, because she promised to keep me a secret... But she betrayed me... Just like her husband... So, I went after her son... But they plotted against me... And he killed me... One shot right here - She pointed to her own chest, where the heart would be - And I swore to return... And torment her descendants... And you freed me… - A strand of hair caressed my cheek and I moved away - You found my doll… And you freed me… But I was weak… So I waited… Until the right moment and I had enough strength…

-Ar-Arthur… Why him? - Noelly asked, almost like a whisper. 

-He wasn't in the plans... He was kind to me... But he saw me... He saw my body... - Only at that moment I looked closely and saw that her joints were like a doll's - And I asked... If after all, I'm not lovely? - For the first time her expression changed, she was extremely angry - And he said no... That I'm a monster... So... I killed him... After all, he didn't love me... - Her features relaxed again.

-You are a monster… - Noelly whispered and started crying again. 

-What are you going to do with us? - I asked, weakly, we have no choice, we have no way to escape.

-I'll let you two go... If you promise not to tell anyone... - She said, smiling and putting a finger in front of her mouth. 

-I promise! I promise! This secret will be buried with me! - I spoke quickly, just wanting to get out of there.

-Me too... I promise... - Noelly also spoke, almost without any strength. Delilah smiled and started pulling out all the hair that was around the entire house to her, making her hair curly again.

As soon as she told us to go, we heard the sound of several sirens on the street and police officers saying several things. Delilah seemed surprised and looked at us, I looked at Noelly and saw her with her cell phone in her hand... She had dialed the police number... (It was a good try my friend) The ghost (Doll?) screamed in fury and several strands of hair went towards Noelly, so fast that I couldn't stop it and they squeezed her neck, she... too... she too... (I can't don't even write this...)

I looked at her and screamed too, going at her, but she held my wrists with the strands of hair and approached me, getting very close, I smelled a sweet smell, like rotten fruit and I almost vomited, she held my face with great force and I felt that she had no skin, she was entirely made of porcelain.

-I don't have time to kill you anymore... - I heard the police officers trying to break down the door - But you won't get rid of me...

She threw me down hard, making me very dizzy and everything was dark. When I calmed down and my vision cleared, I saw the worst scene of my life…

…

I can't even write it… 

Noelly was beneath me, dead and my hands were around her neck, there was blood on my hands and her eyes were empty and cold... I looked to the side and there was a porcelain doll just like her... 

After that, everything was a blur… The police took me away and the court sentenced me… I don't even know how many years…

Now, here I am… They agreed to give me this sheet so I can write something to my parents… They won't believe me… Not even I know if I believe…

But… That's what happened to me… And now… Wait… There’s something here…

NO! NO! PLEASE NO! NOT THA-

[codenamehazard]

.:Down the Rabbit Hole:.

Chapter 31: Down the Rabbit Hole

Hey guys!

Time to keep following Cole on this rigmarole of a rabbit chase and see what happens next now that he's in the big top that gives Tri-Point its name!

Without further ado, let's jump in!

--------

“Alright, you damned rabbit. This game’s gone on long enough!!”

I rip random shit out from their places as I search high and low for this antlered thorn in my side, not really caring what it is or who it might belong to. I don’t know what it’s trying to get at, but it’s only going to make things so much worse for it when I get my hands on it. “How do I see myself?” What kind of mind games is it trying to play; Especially with asking that while I was literally looking in a damn mirror? The answer is literally staring me in the face! I’m me! Always have been.

That damn question though… It circles in my head more than I’d like, fucking vultures riding a rising current of hot air. While yes, it is true that I haven’t physically changed much, but I have. God I hate to admit it, but so much has changed that I’m not even sure who I am anymore. Everything that made me the man I was is gone, torn asunder and ashes in the wind. Zeke’s been dead for what… Two, three years? Trish has been gone longer still. Empire City is crater, courtesy of John. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s been deemed the US’s own Chernobyl or something.

Any ties I had to that old life is just… Gone. Save for whatever tiny scraps I managed to salvage… The life I had planned for, the life I wanted, will never come to be.

It’s not helped by the fact that I’ve been nothing more than either some kind of errand boy or a puppet on fucking strings ever since I was popped out of my mother. Any choice I made was either deemed incorrect, wrong or the choice was outright taken away! At this point, I’ve stopped trying.

Now I’m starting to understand the question and my answer is: “Does it fucking matter?”

My rampage in the big top continues on, leaving debris of knocked over furniture, confetti and dust in my wake when I think I see a plume of purple in my periphery. I turn my head to look, but see nothing, probably just glitter or some shit like that. However, I do spot another flash, another mirror. What a fucking coincidence.

I try to ignore it and focus on my task of finding that damn rabbit, but every time I see glimpses of my reflection, my curiosity grows… I eventually just say “fuck it” and walk over.

I make note of the mirror now that I’m actually looking at it. It’s one of those full, stand-up mirrors you find in those old as fuck mansions that are definitely not haunted. I know those ghost stories and while those kinds of things were more Zeke’s wheelhouse, with the “Killer Clown” vibes this place has going on? I’m not taking any chances… Especially with a circus full of Conduits.

I walk to the mirror, making sure I’m far enough away that should some fucking “Ringu” or “Grudge” thing be hiding in the mirror tries to grab me or some shit like that I can jump back out of reach, but close enough to see my full body in the reflective glass.

Damn… There’s a lot more change than I thought now that I look at myself fully.

My skin actually looks half-way healthy, slightly tanned from being cooked in the sun and bringing out the freckles that I had as a kid. The only hint of the pale, sickly grey that I’m used to seeing all over my body is focused on the scar that tracked across my chest like spider lightning through the clouds. First time in a long time I get to see that painful reminder.

I look at my clothes and it hammers home just how much I’ve changed, it’s honestly strange. I can see bits and pieces of someone new, yet it’s still my face, still my scars… I can almost feel my mind starting to struggle a bit. Trying to decide who this person in the mirror is even though I know it’s still me.

As I’m having a slight identity crisis, I hear something whisper in my ear. “How do you think others see you?”

A Punch Blast rips from my hands as I whirl around with a start, sending a popcorn machine and some heavy props flying in its wake. I scan the area, ready to fry the bastard that’s been toying with me ever since I stepped into this madhouse. I growl loudly as my frustration grows, seeing nothing. 

“Hey, fuzzy lil’ fucker!” I shout out, my accent starting to slip more than I’d like. “Stop fuckin’ aroun’ with me and face me!” 

All I get is crickets as I sweep the area, looking for hide or hair of the pain in my ass, but of fucking course, the rabbit is nowhere to be seen. I am getting so sick and tired of all of these games.

If I was a less stubborn man, I would have given up at this point and head back to the hospital to take a long-ass nap. Sadly, I am not a less stubborn man and I want that bunny made into a pair of leather gloves for all the grief it’s put me through.

What I didn’t know is that I’m in for one hell of a shock myself when I turn around and face the mirror again.

Staring back at me isn’t myself… It doesn’t even look human, it looks closer to a living storm, not a shred of humanity to be seen in its crimson eyes. It almost frightened me. Yet…. Somehow I knew that it’s still me.

It’s twisted and monstrous, even more so than how I am in my Beast form… Or is that not my Beast form and what I’m looking at is supposed to be what it’s actually supposed to look like? I remember John’s whole shtick was being a giant magma golem of a monster and I could never figure out how to get that.

I growl and shake my head before dismissing the reflection and walking away, remembering the question and guessing that’s what the mirror was showing; how others saw me.That I couldn’t give less of a rat’s ass about. Not surprising in the least that people saw me less as an actual person and more of a monster or a force of nature, something soulless and without care. It’s honestly nothing new to me.

I’ve been a reject of society ever since I knew what that was. Always casted aside: mocked, shunned and scapegoated in some way, shape or form. So how is this any different? Always a fuck-up, so fucking what? It’s a non-issue at this point. They can think however they want, as long as those dumb shits stay the hell out of my way, then there will be no issues.

My search for Bugs Bunny’s horned cousin continues when I think I see something else furry, a fluffy looking tabby cat sitting on a chest. Not what I’m looking for, but okay.

Though as I look at it, I can’t tell if it’s the color of my lightning or what, but I swear this cat was an odd color… Almost blending in with the hue my sparks bathed the area in, but it was definitely an unnatural color for a cat, pink? Purple? I couldn’t tell, nor did I care.

I try to get close so I can get a better look at the feline, but as I did, the cat turns to purple smoke and flits away. Are you fucking kidding me?!? First a white rabbit who can teleport, now a purple-y cat that can turn to smoke, what’s next? Am I gonna stumble across a giant ass caterpillar smoking from a hookah or something?!? I watch the wisp dart around, the sight feeling familiar for some odd reason.

I don’t have much time to ponder that before it dashes off, prompting me to go after it.

“Maybe this fucker will lead me its little bunny friend.” I think to myself before following it through the big top and find it went through a door. I narrow my eyes in suspicion, this reeks of a trap, yet something keeps telling me to push forward. Is it my curiosity? My stubbornness? Or is it me thinking that I’ve made it this far in, might as well how deep this goes?

Doesn’t matter which it is as I follow the smoke inside.

Through the door, I am damn near blinded by the amount of light my dark-adjusted eyes were subjected to, forcing me to cover them until they had readjusted. I remove my hands and my jaw falls open at the sight I see.

That cat lead me into a fucking mirror maze.

“What’s with all the goddamn mirrors?!” I growl out loud as I look around, seeing myself at damn near every conceivable angle. The scowl on my face deepens the more I see my reflections, I already don’t like seeing myself, let alone being stuck in a room that’s nothing but myself. It infuriates me to no end. It’s almost dizzying and disorienting with everything reflecting everything else. I start to step back, I’m getting in over my head. I need to get out so I can regroup and…

A voice stops my thoughts dead in its tracks as an all too familiar voice hisses in my ear, full of venom and cruelty.

“Do you want to see who you really are?”

The door behind me slams shut with a deafening “BANG” as I try to get out. There was nothing to grab hold of and no way to force it open, it’s flushed with the wall. I’m stuck in here and that damned voice laughs at my struggle and plight. I fire off an Alpha Blast to blow the door open, but it bounces off the reflection and damn near hits me in the process. I can feel my heart start to race as the fact sinks in more and more. I’m trapped in this damned maze.

I slowly turn around, knowing what I have to do, but what I see behind me… My eyes widen as I can feel the color drain from my face, my blood runs cold as I face what is my worst fear made manifest.

“No…”

[ask-aurachnid]

Payback Time

Part 1: Tricks and Illusions Part 2: Proceed With Caution Part 3: Enter, Punisher Part 4: Back to Earth

[TW: Violence, non-con drug use] Word Count: 1.5k

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Three days after Frankie learns the truth and gets a face full of psychedelics for their trouble, they get a lead on Mysterio. They probably could have gotten one sooner, but they were preoccupied with detoxing from the aforementioned psychedelics. Even three days after being dosed, they still feel jumpy and paranoid, their spider-sense reacting to the slightest things.

Nicky and Castle don't think Frankie's ready to put the suit back on and, to be honest, they're probably right. Even if the worst of the symptoms have passed, they still just experienced a massive trauma. It's probably not a good idea to confront Beck right now, but they'll deal with it like they always do: by compartmentalizing to hell and back. They can't afford to be down for the count any longer. She's had a three-day head start to terrorize New York and plan her next move, and Frankie refuses to give her a fourth.

So, they suit up, with the addition of the most effective compact rebreather-respirator combo that money can buy, ordered straight from Gotham (and painted to match the suit, of course).

They track Beck to a warehouse on the edge of Hell's Kitchen. There's been an uptick in noise complaints and domestic disturbance reports in the surrounding buildings. It's not much, to be honest, but it's enough to catch Frankie's attention. Given what Beck's "Fear Toxin" did to them, it follows that smaller doses might result in screaming or people cranking up their music to drown out the voices.

Frankie crawls in through the window and finds Beck surrounded by lab equipment and piles of capsule-shaped canisters. She stands before a huge murder board, in full costume, scrutinizing what looks like a plan to dose Harlem with Fear Toxin.

"Do you seriously just hang around in your wizard costume all the time? There's no way that's comfortable," Frankie quips, in lieu of a real greeting.

Mysterio startles, spinning around to face them. Then her shoulders go tense and she bolts in the opposite direction, knocking equipment to the floor as Aurachnid gives chase. She slows only once they're out on the street, drones forming rank behind her and projecting holographic mannequins on every side.

"I was watching, you know," Mysterio says, with the same tone as someone remarking on the weather. "I had my drones record everything."

Frankie's heart drops. Does she know?

"It's a shame they lost track of you. Tell me, how long did the hallucinations last? With a metabolism like yours, it could go either way."

Frankie's relief is immediately overshadowed by red-hot anger. "Watch it--"

"How lucky am I? The first to reduce the city's beloved spider to a cowering child. What did you see, Aurachnid? The people you love abandoning you? Telling you what a failure you are? The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Frankie's fists clench, blood roaring in their ears. "You don't know a gods damned thing about me," they growl.

Mysterio's head tilts to one side, like Frankie's some curious thing under a microscope.

"You're angry," she observes. "How fascinating."

"Oh, I'm more than angry," Frankie spits, stalking forward, every line of their body coiled tight. The mannequins try to close rank, but Frankie is faster, ripping the bulky computer from Mysterio's arm and crushing it in their grip. The projections glitch out of existence and the drones fall to the ground.

Mysterio tries to escape again, but Frankie yanks her to the ground by her cape, fist clenched in her collar so they're mask to mask. "I'm fucking furious."

There's a hiss of gas as Beck releases another canister, a foolishly stupid attempt to make Frankie let her go. Their new mask sits securely over their nose and mouth as sickly green fog fills the space around them. Frankie barely twitches, batting Beck's hands away as she attempts to dislodge it.

"It's because of you that I'm afraid to touch my own girlfriend!" they snarl. "It's because of you that I have to call my family three times a day to check that they still love me!"

Frankie lets go of Beck's cape and pushes her backward with enough force that she overbalances. Her helmet hits the ground with a hollow chiming noise, and Frankie follows, wrapping one hand around the collar of her armor.

"So, yeah. I'm fucking pissed. Congratulations."

Mysterio just laughs, not even trying to fight or get away.

Frankie clenches their fingers tighter around the edge of her breastplate, the metal warping easily under their enhanced strength. They reel their other fist back with a snarl.

"Are you happy now!? Have you gotten enough fucking data, Beck!?" Frankie demands.

"You're a scientist just like me, Aurachnid. You know there's no such thing as "enough data,"" she says. Frankie can hear the smirk in her voice even though her face is obscured by fog.

Frankie's fist slams into the glass, cracks forming a jagged starburst. Reinforced, but not reinforced enough.

"I am nothing like you!" they snap. Pain sparks across their knuckles, skin splitting under the suit. More cracks form in the glass. "You're a monster, torturing people to satisfy your own sick curiosity!"

"And what do you call this, then?" There's an edge to her voice now, anxious.

Frankie yanks her halfway upright so they're practically nose to nose, big white lenses glaring into the fog-filled glass as they hiss their answer. "Karma."

Mysterio's helmet slams back into the asphalt as Frankie reels their fist back again. Finally, Beck seems to realize the trouble she's in, raising her hands up in a placating gesture.

"Wait! Wait!" she stutters.

Frankie ignores her, their own blood smearing across the splintering glass. The fog inside has begun to flicker revealing Beck's alarmed expression.

[ID in alt]

"Stay the fuck out of my head!" Frankie yells, raising their fist before bringing it down for the final time, the glass shattering under the blow.

When the globe shatters, so does Beck's protection from her own toxins. Frankie watches in real time as it makes its way through her bloodstream. The way Beck's pupils dilate near-completely and lose focus, catching on things that aren't there. The way her breathing picks up, pulling more of the toxin into her lungs.

For a moment, Frankie feels proud. Happy that Beck is literally getting a taste of her own medicine. Relishing the terrified cries of 'no, no, no!' that fall from the villain's lips.

Just as quickly, they feel horrified. The guilt tastes like bile on their tongue as they stare at Beck, writhing against invisible demons, terrified out of her mind and still breathing more toxin. Frankie wouldn't wish that fear on anyone, and yet--

You lost control, again.

Frankie lets go of Beck like they've been burned, stumbling back and shaking their head. The guilt won't help anyone, and they need to do something.

They take a deep breath through the tightness of their respirator before stepping back toward Beck's trembling form. She thrashes in terror as Frankie pulls her off the ground, forcing them to restrain her in webbing so they can lift her over their shoulder, and start swinging away from the thick cloud of Fear Gas.

"JUDOS, call 9-1-1."

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

"This is Aurachnid. I'm traveling north on Tenth Avenue past West Fifty-Second Street," Frankie says, barely keeping their voice calm. "I have an adult female who's been dosed with an experimental psychedelic. She's experiencing symptoms of psychosis."

"I have an ambulance waiting to meet you on the corner of tenth and fifty-fourth. Can you tell me what her symptoms are?"

Two blocks? Frankie can manage that, even if Beck's doing her best to jump to her death. "From personal experience? Visual, auditory, and tactile hallucinations. Paranoia, delusions. It's meant to trigger a fear response. I had to restrain her."

"Okay. Do you know the dosage?"

"No. It was a gas. There will probably be a lot of calls coming from the corner of fifty-first. Police can find live samples at the warehouse there."

Frankie spots the ambulance half a block away, and nearly sags in relief. The EMTs are waiting, ready with a gurney to meet them.

"I see the ambulance. Thank you, dispatch."

"Anytime, Aurachnid."

The EMTs barely stutter as they see who Frankie's carrying, pulling the broken globe off of her head and securing an oxygen mask over her face. Frankie's gut churns at Beck's expression twisted up in terror with tears dripping down her face. Frankie did this. They knew what that fear felt like and they did this anyway.

Another EMT takes the canister of solvent from Frankie's numb fingers, and then the gurney is being loaded into the back, the doors closing and the sirens blaring to life. The entire time, Frankie just stands there, watching the flashing lights as the ambulance zooms off toward the nearest hospital.

What have you done?

[inhonourofgriefandyearning]

A love letter to winter

Winter You are irises Sickly sweet Beautiful Odd Perfectly you Hamster on a wheel bending over backwards gymnasts Breaking their ankle Their back for an institution that plays chess like a bar brawl

Lizards Resting in the sun Wishing waiting for the light to hit them Half smoked joints in the hands of jazz singers on their 6th shift

this week they get off at midnight they go home at four Lonely Reaching Whispers that aren't spoken with mouths but with shifting searching eyes

Sometimes we fuck in your closet And I feel hot in the face Thinking about you Bending into my knees the way I only used to do at my Catholic church or for strange men in strange places with strange smoke and pills and bottles and some other person's lingerie next to your medicine cabinet awesome

Go home To your cat And your sibling Go home to me Or don't Don't go home and stay out till 4 Wonder why people miss you Why you miss people Why it's all so splintering fingers And hatchet bones And creaking floor boards shuddering under this weight you bear holding this stonewall space between us

Iris I am daddy And roses without thorns A death wish turned hallelujah A god sent whore with a goldmine third eye fucking you into cloud 9 Or the fifth circle of hell I am right when it's right And wrong when the vulnerability hits too close to home Home moves alot I move alot I love a lot I am not leaving I'm the dog at the foot of your bed No collar and still yours What is my name Are there pictures of us

Sometimes I think about leaving for good You don't know that I never want that But what about Blue hydrageas And blackberry bloody sticky fingers of a lover trying to make you your mother's cobbler What about someone who plans your birthday A deer in headlights Scared afraid Still And still there In awe Deep breathing I wonder where that's gone And I wonder if it was ever there

In honour of Grief and yearning

[sukunasun]

I read your "how the jjk men would give it to you" post you made and.... like... surprise dick w stressed nanami sounds *chefs kiss* amazing. I was wondering if you had more thoughts about it bc i havent known peace ever since i read that hc/snippet

i was wondering which piece you were referring to only to realize you meant THAT post....

despite the dark circles and a scowl keeping his face in an ever-constant state of agitation, he’s a picture worth a million dollars, in tight-fitted suits that pinch at the waist, the back of his hand dusting over broad shoulders, poised, prim, lapels ironed flat over a wide chest. built and beautiful and so prudish is he. what is it about nanami the salaryman. his life made up of decimal points going up and down, a strand of hair he finds randomly on his shoulder, and the long, long, hours that build up overtime, a culmination of disappointments and tension unlike any other. forcing him closer to that edge, losing all control.

maybe it's the way his face is lit by a computer screen, by fluorescent lights, looking sickly and tense. he leans back in his chair every 30 minutes and the heavy sighs he lets out, the deep groans, guttural and frustrated sound so pornographic you think he's doing it on purpose. your friends tell you it's the clark kent effect, everyone's into the hot nerdy types, the quiet ones who hide that wild, primal side of themselves. but he is no superman, in fact, he's the complete opposite, he hides nothing and he hones no powers. he's just a man in need of a splurge or something, the desperation written all over his face.

who says things like "make me copies, reschedule my meeting, this coffee is atrocious make sure you use the french press like i taught you" do this, do that, barking orders at you all day without so much as a thank you. well, it’s less bark and more bite really. he's so cutting it's like he could say anything to you just so he gets to sneak in some kind of backhanded comment, unsolicited and uncalled for, an inkling inside you warning you of its hidden meaning.

if he were anything like his coworkers, he could just visit the strip club, pick up a girl on a dating app, find some stranger at a club, a quick fuck, a one night stand. but nanami wouldn’t dare. it's such a shame that he doesn't know how to fuck, wouldn't be able to the way he seems so tightly wound and uptight—mr. 'i'm better than you because i make so much money and i am good at my job'.

not to mention it wouldn't work either because he needs something more, something along the lines of your pretty mouth wrapped around him, taking him all the way inside, choking on it. you'd make him last as long as possible, make him shake and tremble with his hands gripping your hair tight, fisting, tugging hard and he'd keep you there, releasing down your throat. it’s what he wishes for when he stands in a bathroom stall jerking himself off for the fourth time that day and god help him because it’s now a routine, just for the sake of release, mechanical and so quick he doesn't get to savour it. even when he does reach his peak—cum painting his fingers, hot and sticky and so incredibly disgusting when the adrenaline wears off, heartbeat slowing, lips swollen and bruised clamped down between his teeth, his body doused in all that shame—it's not enough.

later in the day he gets off the phone with a client who's been bugging him about buying, selling, about shares, investments, the money's not real and on paper they're making a fortune but nanami knows he's going home with most of it. his patience along with the desire to keep his job is wearing thin. seen with the way a vein bulges over his temples, jaw clenching, his tie comes undone then, tugs at it until it hangs loose. starts to crave a cigarette by the lounge, away from prying eyes, but it's not needed when he looks up and sees you by your desk. “he’s just this guy at the office, you know, the kind that has a stick up their ass and takes themselves too seriously,” he overhears you say on the phone—it’s offensive of course, because you say it with such contempt like he wasn't capable of bending you over a desk, over a leather couch, making you muffle your screams in a supply closet as he fucks you silly. he wants to scoff, you should have been keeping those things to yourself, let alone talking about him out in the open. 

at this rate, he could just pull some strings and let you lose your job but he decides otherwise, walking over to where you are, nanami raises an eyebrow when he stands over your desk. "menial tasks requires less brain power so this falls right within your purview doesn't it, what are you, an errand girl?" he usually speaks in a monotone voice. this time however, it's like he believes himself superior. smug and snobbish.

“i graduated top of my class," you reply with indignation. who does he think he is, was this some weird power trip? he’s always been so quiet, so composed and collected. “and it’s sexist to imply that i merely run errands,” you spit back. if it weren’t for you, he’d be fucked. who organizes his schedule and replies his emails when he could just do it himself. 

immediately, he says “i made the assumption based off your incompetence, not because you are a woman.” then glances at you with his nose upturned. cringing at your gaping mouth, at your shocked expression. “stop staring, you're getting drool all over company property," he plops a few stacks of papers by the edge of your desk and without thinking about the implications of it, pushes them towards you with his pelvis. a lazy thrust of his hips and you look up then, expecting to see a sly expression, just like every other man who work on top floors and smoke cigars in penthouse view board rooms but his face is hesitant, like he's holding back something, "get this sorted, and don't make a mess of it." he instructs, before walking away, striding towards the men's bathroom for...whatever reason, you didn’t know, but he's always disheveled and doused in cologne afterwards.

geto and gojo suggest he meets the daughter of one of their clients but nanami suspects it's just another one of their schemes. “she’s a babe, would be down to fuck on a first date,” gojo doesn’t care that he’s being loud and obnoxious because he has more money than anyone will ever make in their lifetime while geto slaps an envelope against nanami's chest, “here, go buy her something pretty, it might help us convince her dad to invest,” geto says from behind him. he peeks through the opening and finds crisp bills stuffed into it, bursting at the seams.

the woman in question looks more like a doll, she smells like vanilla and her full lips purse when she whispers, "i like you," straddling him and leaving soft little smooches against his neck. it sounds made up because she barely knows him. he looks down at her spread legs and wonders what they'd look like in stockings, the kind you wear, in a pencil skirt and a blouse buttoned all the way to the top. her wavy extensions don't do anything for him, where's the updo, where are the hairpins tucked behind the ear. he doesn't want to hear her praises or her exaggerated moans, she's definitely a professional, a respectable one at that because she does it well but he wants a woman who's careless with her work, who looks down on him, he wants an errand girl—

"don't speak, you’ll ruin it,” nanami groans, and in a hotel room behind closed doors, she does as she’s told. he makes her face the other way so he doesn't have to see her, hear her, he could just deal with the weird, nauseating mix of being unsatisfied later on, feeling guilty when he knows he's using someone else, she's merely an object now, he doesn't care about her or whether she likes him and it's so infuriating that he wishes to prove you wrong because he's made to press up behind you, feel his heart beating beneath the skin, racing and pounding. proof that he has one, that he's made for more than just sitting behind a desk.

so he'll compromise tonight, all until he leaves her in an empty bed the next morning, rushing off to work with geto’s money left on the bedside table.

he's even more of a pain in the ass that morning, breathing down your neck and making sure you're left with double the amount of usual things he makws you do. but also he keeps a distance, going as far as flinching away every time you so much as tap him on the shoulder. this man is on edge, like he's about to implode. "what's your deal, haven't you ever felt the touch of a woman?" you tease, just for fun, even when you know he wouldn't laugh. and he doesn't really, but instead finds himself fucking you against the wall of his office.

skirt bunched up around your middle, he rips into your stockings with his hands, ripping it and pushing your panties to the side, "i'll buy you another more so stop whining," then tells you to leave the heels on and you do. even when he holds you up in his hands, legs propped up on his shoulders, you try to keep them from slipping off. in the reflection of a mirror, you watch his muscled back flex, the walls thudding, and those heels start dangling over your toes from the sheer force, each one of his thrusts, hard and fast and deep, keeps pushing you over the edge.

the first time you come all over him, it makes you tremble and shake, the newfound revelation that he's actually so skilled is one thing but nanami kisses your neck, gently coaxing you through your release. when he moves you to a couch, he sets you atop him, legs spread wide and thighs held firmly in his hands. he adjusts himself behind you and before you could whine from just how sensitive you feel, he pushes himself back inside, stretched and full and so hot. making sure that over your shoulder, he could watch you in that same mirror, and that you'd see him too. you'd see just who exactly makes you feel this way.

and by the time he fucks you by the window, you whimper when you look out then, clear blue sky and bright sunlight, it's a beautiful day out and the street below are bustling with cars and people who are looking to make memories. some colleagues are out for lunch and others are having some fresh air, a seemly normal day, and your heart pounds, fear and excitement creeping up because anyone could see, turn their heads up to catch the view of a woman with her knees tucked to the sides of her head, squirming and bucking as her boss fucks up into her. "i'm starting to think you like this," he taunts when your moans ring out, and it's true because you were running your mouth, making a scene, you believed him to be incapable and inexperienced but now you can't think of any other man who's made you feel the way he does. nanami doesn't care one bit about the exposure, abut public indecency or whatever the fuck they'll say about him, let them see how he makes you come apart, making your mind go numb.

"you did this to me," he snarls into the crook of your neck, how often had pictured this moment and now that it's real, his cock buried inside you, the moans you let out sounding better than anything he could have imagined, and the look on your pretty face while you're succumbing to him, this snappy little thing now submitting herself. "let me know if it's too much okay?" he whispers, biting down on your neck, pounding inside you, feeling your juices run down til it drips all over the carpet floors. he'd make you call someone to get it cleaned, and he'd stress about getting it done on time so no one would suspect a thing but he'd also go back to being a pain in the ass, or maybe he'd start being a little sweet, a little kinder, gentle and tender...until he isn't.

[omiscurls]

Diluc, zhongli and childe reaction to their s/o breaking up with them after something they said, maybe after a week or so after they argument they think the s/o forgave them but they break up instead? I WANT THE ANGST

consequences

plot: reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: diluc, zhongli, tartaglia (idk how am i going to do this to my special boy but ill try my best)

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO HARD- I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO BREAKUP WITH PEOPLE

diluc

hopeless thoughts ran through your head as you fought with yourself about wether to enter angel’s share or not, hand halfway through to the doorknob. your mind hadn’t been made up just yet, you were still in between two very different scenarios - the urge to forgive him for his hurtful words growing stronger each day, as anger and other emotions subdued to loneliness and the feeling of a part of you missing, ever since the two of you stopped talking.

your mind flashed back to the exact moment when you looked into diluc’s eyes, always so soft and calm for you, forming a way of anger he never expressed towards you before. to the feeling you got right then and there that this man is not the same one you’ve met and fell in love with.

the process of coming to terms with that conclusion was as painful as the first strike of his angry glare, and even though he seemed to have realized the weight of his words right after saying them out loud, no matter how hard you tried, you could not erase them from your memory.

one strike of that pain, one memory of that night was enough to make you go through with your plan, door to the bar opening with a little screech.

it was like just another late afternoon, with charles tending the bar, knights and townsfolk filling the hot room, and the smell of alcohol traveling through the air.

“hi” you said to the bartender “is master diluc around?”

charles, busy with his work, quickly replied that he’s out back, opening a barrel. you nodded and went where his directions guided, pushing open yet another door to see the back of the man you loved, looking just as always from this angle, working over said chore. he didn’t even seem to mind the fact that someone walked in on him working.

“diluc” you said with a sigh, and he almost immediately turned around, tools falling from his hands and onto the ground.

“darling, hi” he replied quietly, walking over to you but stopping half way, eyes set to analyze your expression, figure out what was going on in your mind. “i’m glad you’re here safely, i haven’t heard from you in over a week” he added cautiously, as if weighing every word before deciding to say it out loud.

“well” you sighed again, once again going over wether you should actually break things off right then, mind taking pity on his troubled expression, tired eyes, on the obvious eyebags that were much more apparent than before, a sign that he didn’t catch too much sleep. “i had to come to terms with what i’m about to say”

he wanted to tell you he was sorry, he really did, but words didn’t seem to come out of his throat. obviously he was sorry, it was a bad day and he meant none of what he said, but you knew that, right? you knew he always cared for you and loved you… right?

he wasn’t the best with words, hence, the idea of apologizing with a gesture after you were done teaching him his lesson came to mind. a brilliant idea, one could never go wrong with a thoughtful deed for their significant other, just give him one more chance.

“and my conclusion is, we need to take a step back and… reevaluate things in our lives. i’m not saying this is the ultimate end, but what you’ve said, and how you’ve said it made me realize…”

you were making a good point. you were talking about your feelings. he should listen, but the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his veins, and the two single words

the end

so there won’t be another chance? he won’t be able to prove himself? what do you mean, the end? the best thing that ever happened to him in his sad life was coming to an end because of him? but he was so careful, he treated you like his treasure, because that’s how he truly felt, like his lifeline, something he could never lose…

and all it took was one sentence too much, one glare too intense. for the first time in what, six, maybe seven years, his eyes began to water, as he blinked the tears back at a rapid pace.

“… and that was a shitty thing to do. i hope you know that. i don’t know if i had anything else i wanted to say, perhaps i did, but… that’s all. see you around, i guess” you mumbled, loosing confidence in what you were saying, taking one last glance at his lost eyes before turning around.

turning around from him, from the love of your life, was perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to do, and yet you did do it.

before you could reach the door again, though, a cold hand caught your forearm. your eyes met his, with just a glimmer of hope that he would magically say all the right words and somehow make you stay, you didn’t want to leave, yet knew you had to. if you wanted to preserve the respect you had for yourself, you had to leave.

why were you giving him time to say something?

his helpless gaze seemed to speak with a thousand words, begging, pleading you to not leave through that door, but as much as his lips did part, not a single word left.

he couldn’t say anything to hold you back, and you ripped away from his grip, turned, and walked away.

and just like that,

he was all alone, again.

he was gonna need a drink.

zhongli

tears flooded your vision, blurring every details of zhongli’s face, causing you to only see a pale color palette, instead of your favorite person, ever. maybe it was for the best, maybe it would make it easier, you thought, but that was a foolish thing to hope for.

even through the salty tears, you could make out his eyes, it’s glow never failing to guide you, and comfort you, now seeming to burn their way through you, through your body and soul.

“you’re stuck in another love, zhongli, we both know that!” you exhaled a bit louder than you intended to, the outcome sounding more like an accusation than a fact. “how can you ever say you love me, when it’s so obvious, and so apparent, that every time you look at me, you see someone else? you HOPE for someone else?”

you could only wish the words you spoke didn’t come out as a complete mess, because of those tears you were constantly choking on. desperation seeped through your voice, as the feeling of helplessness rose every time you looked at your lover and at the anguish, and confusion he presented.

how could he make this so hard? it’s not like you’ve presented some statement he didn’t know already, right?

you hoped your eyes would say all the things you didn’t trust your voice to. you hoped he’d somehow hear how all you ever wanted was to be enough, was to meet his standard, how it tore you open that every time he said <i love you> his eyes wandered everywhere but onto yours, how all his touches seemed absent, how all his compliments were truly about some other face, some other smile, some other kind soul.

the worst part was, how could you blame him? how can anyone, ever, blame someone for being in love, of all things? love was something beautiful, and once you’ve experienced it, you’re drowned in it forever, and don’t even want to see the surface again.

love is beautiful. when you’re the one who’s receiving it. love was beautiful, to you, too, when you loved how his wisdom flew through his words, how his kindness hugged your spirit, how his aura brought you comfort. you loved his eyes, you loved his cheeks, his lips, every single detail of his skin.

the love you felt made you complete, made you warm, until you finally realize the thing you should’ve seen much sooner.

that you were merely a mirror for him to look at someone else, someone long gone.

suddenly all the warmth you felt was directed back at you, burning you inside, making you wish you never felt it in the first place.

“aren’t you gonna say something?” you whispered.

his long fingers found their way to your hand, but you snatched it away.

if you fell onto his charms now, you wouldn’t be able to get out once more.

his breath hitched as he gathered himself to speak

“i want nothing more than to love you” he said, although quietly, it rang through your ears like the loudest of screams.

you scoffed.

“we both would’ve wanted that, then”

“and i’m sure i can, if you just—“

now, laughter was all that you were capable of letting out.

“zhongli, you can’t train yourself to love someone. and even if you could, then how do you think that would make me feel? like i’m so unlovable you had to force yourself through it to grow accustomed to a feeling similar to love?”

“that’s not what i—“

“that’s what it means! let it go, please, please just… let me go” you sighed, standing up from the bench over at liyue harbor that you were sitting on. the sun has begun to set on the other side of the sea, and you couldn’t help but notice, it would’ve been the perfect date.

“i do sincerely hope you’ll find someone who’ll love you just the same” he finally stated, as he gave up on trying to make you stay.

“why?” you chuckled “so i could make them suffer the same way you made me?”

tartaglia

(archons give me strength)

you found nothing but guilt, looking into the endless ocean trapped in his eyes. for the first time in forever, they glistened, but not with a spark of joy, like you always hoped they would, they shone a sickly shine, caused by a thin layer of tears, that didn’t dear to spill over his porcelain cheeks, almost as if afraid of making contact with the ruthless face of the number eleven of the fatui harbingers.

he could’ve easily been crying if only he let himself go. he would’ve been in tears, sniffing and coughing, but he just… wasn’t. he held those tears in the gates of his eyes, as if his life depended on it.

the guilt you found inside them, wasn’t his, but yours. you felt guilty, watching this composed, confident man fall into pieces right before you, crumbling before your sight. why were you doing this? you seemed to forget all those terrible things you’ve heard just from the way his irises begged for forgiveness and brows furrowed in inexplicable sadness.

but you couldn’t, no, this time you couldn’t.

“my word” you swore on dear life you’d burst into tears if your voice shook right now “my word is final. we’re over. and that’s… that’s it. you need to understand that there won’t be another chance.”

the moment his lips parted, you knew you were lost.

“i have told you so many times already, but i will say this as much as i need to, it will never happen again! i swear, on everything i love and everything that i am, i swear on life itself, i won’t ever let that happen again! you know i won’t! come on, i promise you, if there’s anything you can say about me is i do keep my promises, don’t i? darling, please…”

“promise yourself to heal and become better, first” you stated coldly, watching faith disappearing slowly from his fixed look.

“im sorry, you know i am, im sorry, im sorry, im so fucking sorry!” a scream left his throat as desperation took over both reason and self-respect.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“then what will? i’ll do anything, anything in the world, anything to prove myself to you. i get that you can’t love me, i understand that, but please, let me win your trust again.”

he said unnaturally calmly, compared to what he did before, and you got concerned immediately.

i understand that you can’t love me, his words rang through your head. oh god, what were you doing? guilt stroke again, right at where you felt your heart to be.

right when you wanted to turn around and leave, he must’ve sensed that, and pulled you into a tight embrace. not suffocating, as they often describe it, not toxic and desperate, but… as loving as every other hug you’ve ever received from him. as calming and grounding, even though you could feel his heart racing. he didn’t refuse for you to leave, he didn’t trap you.

you understood after a while,

he was saying goodbye. all the love trapped inside his heart seeped out onto you, all his feelings surrounding and engulfing you.

“let me promise you this” he whispered, voice shaking painfully “the next time i’ll see you, i’ll be a better man. someone you will be able to be proud of, someone worthy of both your trust, and love. i won’t stop until i’ll be enough for you to look at me without the disgust and fear you have now. i promise. i’ll be better.”

“until then, then.” was the only thing you were capable of saying before leaving.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you rested against a wall and covered your mouth with a hand, unable to hold your tears any longer.

you heard a cry through the door. so he does have some feelings left, after all

your daily reminder that requests are open [here]

[starlessea]

"Don’t Cry”

A/N This started off as a drabble, but I got carried away and it turned into a one-shot. I’m really happy with how this one turned out! Based on number #39 from this prompt list for @phoenixblack89​

Summary: Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

Atlanta High School.

You’d graduated a long while back — so long ago now that you’d forgotten the feeling of walking its halls, and having your shoes squeak against the cheap wooden planks.

You could see the rows of lockers you’d chatted by daily, and the one in particular where you’d shared your first kiss with a boy whose name you couldn’t remember. The doors of the classrooms seemed familiar, as did the posters on the walls which were the same as they’d been when you attended — something about washing your hands and remembering to vote for class president.

It was as though time stood still.

And, in this very moment, there was nothing you wished for more.

Daryl’s hand was warm on your cheek, and his thumb gentle as he drew faint circles over your skin. You leaned into his touch, the same way you’d done with that boy against your locker — not even a few feet away.

But this was different.

This was Daryl.

Your lips quivered, trembling like a leaf stuck in the wind. Your hands felt numb as they pressed against him, so hard that you thought they would bruise. But all you could hear were those damn lockers — their doors slamming open and closed as they caught in the draft.

Like a sarcastic fucking applause.

Daryl tilted your head up, gently guiding your gaze from his collar to his face, where your eyes caught his. And your breath died in your throat, before bubbling into a sob that rang out in the air like the Atlanta High School bell.

He was smiling.

“Don’t cry,” he said — in the most calm, accepting tone you’d ever heard a person speak. It lacked all of his usual bite, the gruffness you’d come to know and associate with the man.

It sounded foreign.

Maybe that was why, despite his words, the tears poured over anyway, and settled on your cheeks where he swiped them away with a flick of his thumb.

“I wan’-” he started, but paused for a second to grimace from the pain. “I wanna remember ya smilin’.”

You choked on another watery cry, shaking your head away from his gentle hold, as you returned your focus to his wound.

The bite on his collarbone was deep, gushing blood quicker than you could soak it up with the tattered remnants of your jacket. His skin was a stark, vermillion red, as were your hands, as was the floor, as were those fucking lockers where you’d smeared his blood as you tried to carry him to safety.

Everything was red, red, red.

You pressed more firmly, soaking it up with fluttering hands that burnt from the sheer heat of his skin. He felt like a match having been set alight — burning brilliantly beneath your palms as you tried your best to quell the flames.

Daryl rested his hand over yours, engulfing it. “Listen to me, ” he rasped — and you panicked at how much more weak his voice was sounding — “there’s flares in my rucksack.”

He glanced over your shoulder, at the abandoned bag sitting near your feet. It was stuffed with supplies from the school — all of which were now completely useless, and nowhere near worth his goddamn life.

Sweat beaded on his skin, and collected in the dips of his collar — like little pools of salt water.

He squeezed your hand. “Ya gotta get to the roof an’ flag down Rick,” he told you, his smile dropping from his face as he became much more serious. “He’ll come for ya.”

Your hands stilled over the wound for a second, easing their pressure as you took in the man’s words. Then he flashed those eyes at you, which begged for you not to argue.

But you did.

You kicked out your leg behind you, sending that backpack sliding across those cheap wooden planks, and making it thud against a locker. You didn’t need the flares.

You just needed Daryl.

“I can’t-” you yelled, but your voice split, and the man quickly hushed you before it got too loud. After all, the dead had you surrounded. “I’m not leaving you behind,” you spluttered.

Your tone was frantic, panicked, desperate.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding underneath your palms, where you pressed down against it. It was as though you held his heart in your hands — and he’d probably argue that you always had.

Daryl shook his head smally, careful not to disturb the bite further. “An’ ya can’t take me with ya,” he replied.

No, you thought, you would carry him out if it killed you, you would fight your way through, and get him to the infirmary, and you could-

“I ain’t gonna make it, baby girl,” he whispered, “‘m sorry.”

And you broke.

Suddenly, you were aware of the flickering overhead lights that made his skin look so clammy, so sickly. You were conscious of the blood smear trail he’d left behind — that vibrant scarlet which reminded you of a burning sunset — and the pounding at the doors, and the feet squeaking on those floorboards like the lunchtime rush between classes.

“You will!” you yelled, not at all caring about how loud you’d gotten. “You have to, Daryl,” you cried, pleadingly.

His hand felt so warm that it made yours seem cold. It felt like you were the one dying — your heart shattering each time he took a wheezed breath, or flinched in pain.

“How am I-” you asked, but by now your voice had tapered off to a mere whisper. You shook your head. There was no question about it. “I can’t go on without you,” you told him.

You could hear the blood rushing to your ears as your breaths got away from you — too shallow and too sparse. Daryl looked worse each passing minute, his olive skin now a translucent grey.

He took both of your hands in his, making you drop your jacket, as blood seeped through the material of his shirt. You tried to fight against him, eyeing the trail of red as it ran along his collar like a stream, but he kept a hold of your wrists firmly — with the little strength he had left.

“Ya can,” he growled — the grit to his voice causing you to instantly still — “an’ ya will.”

And he flashed those eyes at you again, but this time they had his usual spark behind them.

“Yer the damn strongest woman I e’er met,” he went on, letting his grip loosen on your wrists ever so slightly, “‘m jus’ happy a dumb ol’ redneck like me got to spend a couple good years with ya.”

Then, he smiled.

“It was fun.”

He let your hands drop out of his, no longer having any fight left. But instead, you used them to clamber onto his lap, wrapping them around his torso as you buried your head deep into his chest — his warm, red chest.

“Please don’t talk like that!” you cried, your words muffled by his clothes and lost to his skin.“I’m not going anywhere! I want to stay with you-”

“Nah, that ain’t happenin’,” he snapped — but his hand remained light on your head, gently stroking your hair in his attempts to calm you. “I swear to god, I’ll haunt yer ass if ya dare pull somethin’ tha’ stupid.”

But you grabbed onto his shirt until your knuckles flashed white, bunching up the material in your fists like you couldn’t bear to part with it. It smelt like him — underneath the coppery scent of fresh blood.

Slowly, he tried to coax you out, but you could feel the way his hands shook, and it only made everything worse. Those hands had always been strong — had always been the ones to pick you up and set you back on your feet every time you fell.

“Look a’ me,” he pleaded, his voice croaky. He tilted your chin up again, in the same way he did every time he went to kiss you — and it made your heart hurt, because no kiss followed. “C’mon now, don’ cry,” he whispered, his breath much too hot against your skin, “‘m here.”

“But you won’t be,” you wailed, the words startling you as they crept out from your mouth.

You hadn’t wanted to admit them.

“But I am now,” Daryl replied, just as quick. “So please jus’ smile for me, would ya?”

His hand fell down to your waist, before rubbing small circles in the small of your back — just how he did every morning to wake you up.

You couldn’t do it, but you needed to do it.

For Daryl.

You uncurled yourself from his chest, and wiped away the fresh tears with your shirt, blinking away the rest. You moved in his lap until you were face to face, trying not to catch a glimpse of his wound which continued to pour red.

Then, you finally smiled back at him.

It was wobbly, and forced, but it was wide — and full of love.

“Atta girl,” he choked back, his voice breaking for the first time.

You couldn’t tell whether his glassy eyes were from the fever, or the pain, or from you, but you bit your lip either way.

Don’t cry, you told yourself, and watched as he did.

“Yer so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, raising his thumb to the corner of your lips. It was as callous as always, but at this moment it only felt soft. “I was one lucky son o’ a bitch,” he declared, with a warm smile.

You raised your hands in return, cupping his face and feeling his beard tickle over your palms — thinking back to the times you complained at how unkempt it was. His forehead dropped down onto yours, and the heat from his skin radiated outwards, setting you ablaze as you touched.

“I love you, Dixon,” you confessed, as though it were the first time and not the last. “Now and always.”

The overhead lights hummed as they flickered like camera flashes, and the pounding at the door became more incessant.

So, you drowned everything out with a press of your lips to his — as Daryl tilted your head up in the way he always did, and gave you one final kiss which tasted like seasalt and copper. It was underneath the locker where you’d had your first kiss, but now it marked your last one with the man you loved most in this world.

“Me too,” Daryl whispered, as you broke apart. He glanced over your shoulder once again, at the discarded backpack across the hall. “Now get outta here before they break through.”

You stumbled to your feet violently, needing a strong, stark shock to actually be enough to pull you away from the man for good.

And you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t. If you so much as caught a glimpse of those angel wings or heard as little as a breath escape his mouth, you wouldn’t have left.

And that would’ve killed Daryl in more ways than one.

So, you retrieved the backpack, and opened the fire escape door a few feet away, before slipping behind it, and sliding down to your knees.

The concrete cut your skin open, and once again you were confronted with red.

A cry escaped you, which morphed into a wail as you clutched your chest and tried to fix the bleeding happening inside it — the red that you couldn’t see.

But a shout startled you, and ceased your sobs as soon as they sounded.

“Don’ cry!” Daryl’s voice yelled, muffled by the metal door but still strong, and guttural, and fierce. “I can hear ya!”

So, you picked yourself back up, and set yourself on your feet in the same way he’d taught you how — and you ran for the roof, flare in hand.

Atlanta High School always had the best rooftop view.

The sunset stretched out in the distance, one of brilliant vermillion, and warm, copper orange. The balcony was the same as you remembered, with high metal railings to keep students from jumping, or getting too close to that view.

This roof had been the place where you’d yelled about hating this place, this town, this state — and had cried out to the sky about wishing to anywhere but here.

But now you didn’t want to leave.

Because your everything was right here.

You held the flare in your hand, wondering what colours it would burst and illuminate the sky — whilst praying it would be anything other than red.

You let off the flare, and a single gunshot followed.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N Blame Jess and Shannon for the increase in angst.

But I’m glad to be getting more comfortable with writing it!

How did you guys find this one? I actually think it’s one of my personal faves? Please let me know :)

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole @whitexwingedxdoves @potatochic2003 @suranne-doesstuff @witch-of-letters @sweatywildpanda @daryldixonstorm @btsiguess-kpop @dead-leviathan @reichelhache @thatmemechick @lokiswhqre @marylimlp @jodiereedus22 @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @deadthewalking @abbyz28 @pandorahurtsx @mileysnavely @wceasley @abzidabzy @caelys @chiliiscereal @2257-blr @i-knowyou @daryloverdixon @sunnyjellybean @potplantbedspread @alkeino @trash-dino-5000 @odys @m3l4t7n1n @captainbobbybarnes @huffledor-able541​ @byakugan-breathing