#I’m so obsessed with the song Suffering

[itsyaboi-lehoe]

EPIC the musical but it’s zelink (lyrics from the song “Suffering”)

[peapod20001]

Me obsessing over a specific oc directly correlates to if they have songs/how often I listen to those songs

[afterglowsainz]

don’t smile | franco colapinto

pairing: engineer!reader x franco colapinto

summary: after franco signs with williams to finish the 2024 season, your relationship takes a punch

fc: different girls from pinterest

a/n: as you can tell, i just love a good star-cross lovers trope

—

liked by yourusername, bizarrap and others

francolapinto i’ve had the happiest two years next to you amor, happy anniversary ❤️

tagged yourusername

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username they’re so cute 🥹

username they’re the true williams it couple

username crying screaming not jealous at all

username if you look closely you can see me crying in the corner

username they’re so lovely together 💗

yourusername i love you! ❤️

francolapinto i love you more, i’m the happiest man ever ❤️

liked by francolapinto, zak.osullivan and others

yourusername ready to make car number 2 go vroom vroom 🏎

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username icon!

username i need that hoodie immediately, thank you

francolapinto the most talented 🩵 (liked by yourusername)

bffusername you’re so smart i love you 😭

yourusername miss you! ❤️‍🩹

username she really is everything ✨

username y/n pleaseee give me just ONE chance i’m begging

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francolapinto imola was nice to me 🇮🇹

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yourusername THE SPRINT RACE WINNER 😭❤️🇮🇹

francolapinto ☺️☺️

username +1000 aura points

username great race!

username OBSESSED

williamsracing vamos francooo 🇦🇷

username insane!

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🔒yourusername 🌊

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username ohhh so beautiful

username where’s franco 🥺

username why is her account private now?

username bestie your boyfriend is about to debut in f1 and you’re taking sad pictures at the beach? 😭

username so rude and for what

bffusername the prettiest💗

yourusername ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

username the view 😍

liked by williamsracing, alex_albon and others

francolapinto a dream come true 🥹

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username congrats franco! best of luck

username amazing work!

username amazing to have new young drivers on the grid 🙌🏽

username love this but is missing someone 👀

username no because where is y/n 😭

username i was so excited that we would get more content of them together and now they don’t event interact with each other

username did they forgot they were dating or what 😩

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🔒yourusername in my short n’ sweet era 💋

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username so don’t smile type of short n’ sweet okay i see 😔

username noooo they unfollowed each other it’s over 😭

username why do hot people have to suffer

username no but don’t smile is a crazy song to relate to

username how awkward is it going to be working at the same place 😬

username why would they broke up in the first place 😭

bffusername lucky for you i’m also in my short n’ sweet era

yourusername twins!

[targaryenluvs]

— newcomer

pairing: dark!luke castellan x childofaphrodite!reader

summary: luke becomes quite infatuated with you, the newcomer of the camp.

tw: obsession, stalking, distancing from friends, intimidation, luke is like deep in love, my horrible attempt at describing love? kinda lovebomby, mentions of violence/luke attacking others

word count: 1k words

a/n: my second pjo fic! i think percy is next 👀 - i don’t think i outright described a female reader, let me know if i did so i can change it!! i i’m going to try and be more inconspicuous with genders to fit all ❤️

right from the start, luke could tell there was something special about you.

of course he was to introduce himself to the new kids but for once he wanted to meet you. with a warm smile and his reassuring words, you were made to feel at home quite quickly.

you’d thought of luke being friendly in general before learning of the hermes cabin and his welcoming nature, but it didn’t seem to change anything between the two of you. luke was an excellent guide in your eyes, helping you settle into your new life, you were undeniably thankful for him.

he was a pitstop for many, if not all campers once they entered the place, a familiar face to help them all. but for you he seemed to go above and beyond. he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and he believed himself to be the key in your life at camp half-blood to happiness. you made him happy.

your bright smile and endearing personality melted his heart, you were a breath of fresh air and he couldn’t wait to bask in it.

even after you were claimed, by aphrodite nonetheless, you stuck around. it made sense to him, you were the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. whether it was a smile from afar or a long conversation, you always made it a point in your day to spend time with him.

you wouldn’t do that for nobody now would you?

no, your sweet self was kind, especially to him. you liked him, like he liked you, and he’d be damned if he let you go.

you seemed to be the only person who didn’t notice his disdain towards those around you. the way he’d linger around the ares boy who’d been chatting you up at breakfast, the same boy who’d been attacked from behind during capture the flag, suffering a nasty slice on his back.

or how he’d humiliated one of your friends during archery, correcting their stance, taunting their attempts to hit the bullseye, throwing them off and laughing at them when they missed. it was all in good fun, right?

he was like a shadow, unwavering and lurking.

it wasn’t uncommon to find luke a few metres away from wherever you were. to find him accompanying you to dinner, to find the two of you practicing together early in the morning, alone, to focus better of course. slowly but surely he wriggled his way back into your life, all consuming and prominent.

until it was seen as odd to find you alone.

seemingly tied together, woven, meant to be. you completed him, you made him feel alive. you made luke feel electric, on fire almost. your presence and touch began to comfort him most, your voice being the only one to bring him down.

and when you were taken from him, whether by others or in general, he was unbearable.

the shining luke castellan crumbled without his support. he needed you, depended on you, like fire and oxygen, plants and sunlight, a song and dance. you kept him going, you filled his life with purpose, he wasn’t luke castellan, son of hermes, counseller, confidante, friend.

he was lu, he was yours, he was your ‘sunshine’.

and as if he wasn’t already insatiable with you as his friend, when you’d admitted your crush on him, luke was on a whole other level.

“lu,” he hummed, turning his head your way, “i want, i need to tell you something.” the soft grass, the warm sun and gentle breeze, they all calmed his erratic heart. what did you have to say? he despised the idea of not knowing what you were thinking.

luke waited with bated breath, his nails digging into his palm, pressure building, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that you’d notice, he wouldn’t let you. “what is it sweetheart?” the two of you were sitting now, previously laid next to eachother on the picnic blanket.

“i think, i think i like you.”

and how could you not?

luke was the epitome of a gentleman, the kindest man you’d ever met. he made you feel special, you could always rely on your sunshine. in the months the two of you had known each other, it seemed he now knew you like the back of his hand. what you liked, what you disliked, the places you wanted to go and the places you’d been. you’d bared your soul to him, and you could only pray he loved you as you did him.

he was your strength, your courage, your friend, even if you hoped for more. he’d been there for you since the start, and you’d be forever grateful. so why not raise your relationship? fully commit to the one person who knew everything?

he’d crafted himself to be yours, to be everything you could ever wish for, as you were for him. luke had been waiting for your complete devotion, and he had it now, no one could make him let go. people often came and went in his life, leaving him in the past, he often felt taken advantage of, he gave up on the idea of someone to stay.

but you’d stay, blind with devotion and poisoned by his love, who on earth and in the heavens could treat you better than him?

your loyal luke.

“well i have a secret for you, only you.”

your eyes lifted to meet his, a small smile on your lips, “tell me luke,” his hand reached for yours, “what’s your secret?” your favourite flower, suddenly pulled from behind your head, placed behind your ear.

“i love you too.” he surged forwards, capturing you by surprise.

was this bliss? is this what it felt to be in love?

luke was intoxicating, his strong hands and loving voice, it consumed you. it was all so much, and it was all you’d ever wanted.

but a small voice in the back of your head was prominent.

you’d never said a single thing about love.

[rezwrites]

Hey, can you write something for Agatha Harkness? I love her. Yandere/Dark! Agatha Harkness x reader, reader is summoned to be part of Agatha's coven and Agatha grows obsessed with reader after becoming her friend and feeling a connection. Thank you 🩷

Of course, also I’m very sorry that this took so long!

a/n: slight au where the road is real/Rio has no presence.

Agatha and Teen had approached you asking for your assistance in walking The Road. Laughing in their face at the absurdity, “The Road is a myth.”

Even if it wasn’t, it was a death trap. Many stories from your mother and her coven about The Road have passed your ears. Every witch, with the exemption of Agatha Harkness, lost their lives trying the reach the end. You’ve felt inadequate as a witch, unable to resonate with a coven of your own. Even though you’d love to have that sister and companionships you’ve done well enough without them.

Teen droned on as you walked away from them. Only stopping in your tracks when Agatha chimed in talking about forming her own coven. A lesson drilled into your brain since the day you were born resounded within: Agatha Harkness is not to be trusted. Turning around you regarded them both, warily. Awkwardly handing you a card Teen expressed that he’d hope to see you there.

Contemplation weighed heavy on your mind the rest of the day. The possibility of finding a coven was tantalizingly, but you’d have to suffer through the proximity of Agatha and the other witches she convened. Deciding the end outweighs everything else you make your way to Agatha’s house in Westview.

Agatha kept a close focus on you the moment you made your presence known in her home. Her eye constantly shifting to you as you sung your part of The Ballad. You’re voice is beautiful she thought, like a bird singing its morning song.

After pairing with Agatha in the first trial you notice Agatha gradually getting close to you. Thankful that you had her as an anchor in your hallucination, you doing that same for her. Taking the opportunities to know more about you, realizing she’s slow to open up about herself. Rightfully so, since much of the air is still tense with distrust around her. She seemed genuine when she asked about you, making small gestures to be sure your safe- keeping you close to her, guiding your steps so you don’t trip. Her hands softly brushing over you from time to time.

After losing Alice, your distrust cemented again. Insisting that she couldn’t control it, you strayed away from her. Agatha lets you go, not without keeping close eye on you. Watching you gravitate towards Lilia, Agatha internally seethes.

Lilia’s words of wisdom and talks about her travels brought you solace. It was a devastating experience to see Lilia close the Iron Maiden, locking herself in the trial room. Screaming her name, pounding on the door the tears rushed down your face. Agatha had to drag you away and calm you down, Teen staying behind to comfort Jen.

“Lilia, no. How could she?” You could help but sob at the loss of her. Falling to your knees, your face in your hands.

“There’s nothing we could’ve done.” Agatha rests her hand in your shoulder, lightly squeezing it. Wiping your tears, you stood up brushing yourself off.

“Stay with me. I want- no need you by my side.” Agatha’s voice firmed, “You need someone to take care of you.”

“No I don’t. You think I’m weak don’t you?” Your face twists in irritation.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Her fists clenching and unclenching.

“Then what exactly are you saying, Agatha?” You exasperated, throwing your hands up.

“In certain situations I can protect you. That’s all I want to do, darling.” She reached out to you, retracting her hands when you stepped away.

“I can protect myself. We’re almost at the end.” You walk back to gather Jen and teen, leaving Agatha alone.

Slipping into your shoes everything goes black until slit of light appears, revealing Agatha pulling you out of a body bag, “It’s alright dear. It’s just the last trial.” Observing Jen unbind herself and Teen find a body for his brother, your hope shrunk as they disappeared from the trial room.

You remained silent as Agatha grieved, planting something in the ground. You rested beside her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back. Humming a small tune you watched the lights go out by the second; attempting to make peace that this might be the end.

Agatha’s gasp caused you to look down where you saw a dandelion growing from the soil. As the ceiling started crashing down Agatha pulled you up from the floor, guiding you to the door. Coming out of the trial room you both find yourselves in Agatha’s backyard, Teen and Jen waiting for you both. Teen offered Agatha some of his power only is she doesn’t take all of it.

Watching Jen and Teen leave, you stared in thought. The Road was a waste. You didn’t find your coven, the one that Agatha conjured up dropped like flies. Back to square one with a heavy heart in your chest. A soft grip on your wrist pulled you out your bleak thoughts, but you didn’t face her.

“You think The Road didn’t give you what you needed, but it did. You’re just too stubborn to see it. The companionship you crave so much, you don’t a coven… you just need me.” Agatha’s pupils turned purple as your mind grew hazy, struggling for clarity.

“Shh…don’t fight it, darling. I’ve got you.” Agatha’s honeyed voice rang through vividly. Holding you tight against her chest, Agatha pressed her fingers closer to your temple, “I failed to protect someone once, I won’t let the same happen to you.”

[saeclipse]

nurse ᥫ᭡ a.ness

alexis ness gets injured from soccer. kaiser taking him home, he spends the day under your care

𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 fill the room, the soccer player has yet to get comfortable on his couch. His right leg propped up after suffering a terrible injury. Kaiser just stands there, staring at his misery, bouncing his leg up and down impatiently.

“When are they gonna come?” The blue haired man asked, “Waiting all day isn’t exactly my specialty, Alexis.”

The shorter man quickly comes to your defense. Forgetting his injury, he abruptly gets up, but he then almost screams in pain with the stress on his knee. Keys then fiddle with the door outside, prompting Kaiser to dash to the location. You sprint pass the tall man to get to (your favorite) German. Kneeling in front of the couch, you examine his knee with concern.

“Are you okay? I heard a noise from outside.” You question your lover.

He grunts for a moment but responds with that sweet voice of his, “Of course, meine hübsche.” (my pretty)

You give a small chuckle as you stare at his leg more intently, using your experience as a nurse to tend to your boyfriend. You ask the normal questions; did you take your medicine, how’s the pain 1-10, etc. After caring for your partner, you notice a tall figure still standing in front of the door.

“This is disgusting, I’m leaving.” Is all Kaiser said before he makes his departure. You have no idea how your angel of a boyfriend ever even liked that demon. Not trying to toot your own horn here but… you like to say you take much better care of him than Kaiser ever will.

“You okay, beautiful?” Ness asked, it only melts your heart more. This guy could literally beat up a person and you would just stare with big red hearts as eyes, it was so cartoonish your love for him. What was even more silly was his love for you. He would turn the world upside down, left and right, and end it if you gave him the word. It truly came out of a fairytale – his everlasting love for you. Some called it like a dog and master, but it was much more. If it truly was dog and master, you would be the unconditional loving dog who worshiped Ness, you would do just as crazy a thing for him just as he would for you. It was a mutual insane obsession, some might call it unhealthy, you guys called it love.

You only smile at him and give a chaste kiss to his cute forehead, making sure to get straight in the middle. You travel over to your kitchen – one that you rarely used when Ness is over as he always suggested going on a date to a fancy restaurant, but now here you are making your best to imitate the cuisine from his favorite German restaurant. If Ness was gonna spend the next couple weeks on your couch, isolated from the world, he was gonna get the best food he got since his birth.

You sang delightfully in tune with the song, Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana del Rey played on the speaker. Cooking some meat, Ness layed there, staring at the most ethereal person attempt to cook him a five star meal (you would fail but he wouldn’t tell you). God he wish he could capture this moment on his camera so he could keep a physical copy, but he supposes a phone will do.

After eating a sweet treat for dessert (which ended up being ice cream because somehow you fucked up the original dessert). You hold Ness on your shoulder, traveling to your room so you have easier access to him in the middle of the night. Unsurprisingly being extremely heavy, it takes a while before you settle your boyfriend on the bed.

“Wait here, I have to get the kit.” You state before heading to the restroom. It only takes a few seconds but you come back with gauze and other materials to rebandage the injury. No words are said as you focus on his knee, with the silence saying everything that's needed. Ness once again oogles at your focused state, making him question if he should visit you at work more often. Phantom hearts fill his eyes, thoughts of you caring for him, this time with a ring on your finger flood his mind. He wonders if he should start getting injured more – but then you would have to worry more and he doesn’t want that. However, seeing you here, with the soft orange light from the lamp capturing your features beautifully. He feels like home here, maybe he will move in with you next month. After all, no house is a home without your presence to warm it.

Putting the kit back, you come back to bed with pajamas. You guys set your TV on a show, and although you don’t particularly find it entertaining, hearing Ness laugh next to you is a more than good enough reason to keep it running.

And when the lights go off, when it’s just you two in the dark in your bed – that's when most of the memories happen, the talks, the jokes, the moments of adoration of the other, where one could stare at the other’s resting figure and recollect the day. Where you two laugh at Ness’s new lockscreen of you cooking peacefully in the kitchen.

@lakeside-paradise @tofumiarchives @rini-rushed @shrii-kk

[transbrucewayne]

F1 but it’s ultra specific ship dynamics that I need in order to enjoy the ship:

Versainz: baby’s first situationship (literally pentaltyboxbox’s art is my versainz thesis. “Ay, Max, no. I am not gay and neither are you” 🤨) teammates who weren’t supposed to like each other reluctantly becoming friends and then being intricately connected for the rest of their careers. But totally not in a gay way. Of course.

Chestappen: repressed catholic and some guy who needs dilf pussy so bad he wants to kill himself (this is deeply important to me)

Strollonso: Brat princess Lance. Heros and anti-heroes. I’m on the dark side. Tell Lance not to worry I just want to build a gap with the cars behind. You’re my fucking hero.

Carlando: Baby’s first situationship pt.2?? Lando with a massive crush, first real boyfriend Carlos….i need there to be angst. Lando fell first AND harder, etc.

Britcedes/Gewis: George fumbling all over himself trying to impress Lewis, Lewis just thinking he’s cute no matter what. It’s the coolest man alive/weird little freak he’s obsessed with pairing of my dreams. George: this is my boyfriend he’s cooler than me and also he’s cooler than all of you.

Maxiel: first love married divorced remarried pining missing something that maybe was never there will they won’t they one big game of gay chicken healing from baby’s first situationship etc etc etc (I adore them)

Dando: trying to find solace in another, longing for someone you can’t get back, subversion of expected dynamics (controversial: I fully believe Lando tops in this one). But also. They need to have one brain cell. Lando blabbing on about god knows what. Daniel sweating and popping a vein bc of how much he needs to kiss him.

Twinklaren/Landoscar: third time’s the charm, oh you’re the one I’ve been waiting for, tender glances, young love, first teammate crush syndrome

Danterri: we had something weird in the past. “Find another weed guy I can’t fuck with you…uhhhmm nothing personal I can’t fall in love right now and youre Everything I love so if I ever see you again I’ll never let go of your hand sooo yeah” (we’ve all seen that one web weaving.) Are you dating the female version of me?

Lecciardo: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN VEGAS. Charles needs dick from a guy with unstoppable charisma soooooo bad. Fueling each other’s impulsive sides, etc etc

Sebchal: baby’s first situationship (Charles’ version) (from the vault) I miss you so much I’m going to listen to breakup songs all night long. I still think of you every day. I named you twice in a list of drivers. You may even kiss. If it was the omegaverse Seb is so obviously an alpha.

Brocedes: if it doesn’t make me physically sick to my stomach with anguish I do not want it. I hope you die I hope we both die. Hand in unlovable hand. I still consider him my best friend in my heart. We’re not friends. Are they lovers? Worse.

Chewis (Charles/Lewis. I recognise this is also the name for Checo/Lewis. What is the Charles/Lewis name?) me and the bad bitch I pulled by being in violation of that one article section. You know the post. They suffer together. Kinship in joint pain. You’ve got a long future ahead of you. Praise kink.

Let me know if you want a part 2, if so, send ships you want!

[naturesapphic]

Yk « l’amour de ma vie » by billie can u write a fanfic abt French yn flirting with Billie in French and that’s why the tittle of her song is l’amour de ma vie (bc yn always call billie that and her heart melts every time cuz she finds that really cute) and one of un interviewing billie in French (like the Lena situation interview but in French)

French Interview

Billie eilish x French!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, cussing

Word count: 2,181 😭

A/n: I’m sorry if the translation got some of the words wrong I apologize I tried-

“Hey guys! Today vogue invited me over to interview a very special someone. Billie eilish aka my girlfriend!” I exclaimed as I did jazz hands over to my girlfriend Billie, who sat beside me. She looked over at me and giggled at my goofy jazz hands and face I was doing. “Hiiii everybody. I’m so glad to be back here.” Billie said softly as she waves to everyone and to the cameras.

You smiled big and explained to everyone that you will now be talking in French for most of the interview. “Alors Billie Eilish se blesse parfois ? Que diable?” (So Billie eilish does get hurt sometimes. What the hell?). Billie giggles and gives you a smile as she answers. “Right? It’s interesting to be a person who isn’t an outwardly sensitive complainer. A lot of moments on this album are about situations where I was like, ““I’d rather be tortured inside but have somebody think that I’m cool, than have somebody think that I’m hysterical and actually express my feelings.”” So many songs on this album reflect that realization of, like, “Maybe I’m obsessed with the idea of nonchalance.”” She says and you nod.

“oh ouais, c'est toi, c'est sûr bébé.” (Oh yeah, that’s you for sure baby.). You reply and Billie keeps going on with her answer. “I would rather suffer in silence than tell you something’s bothering me and have you think I’m sensitive.” She says and you roll your eyes playfully. “tu me rappelles un de mes ex-partenaire.” You said while eyeing her down. As soon as the translator translate what you said to her, she gives you a gentle shove that makes you laugh. “Quand nous nous sommes rencontrés pour la première fois, tu avais l'air d'avoir tout compris et tu étais plutôt fermé.” (when we first met, you seemed like you had it all together and kinda closed off).

Billie laughs and grabs one of your hands in hers as she answers. “I come off as a person that doesn’t care. I care about people and I have love and passion, but in relationships, I found myself never ever expressing any of my needs. It was interesting to notice I was doing that, and that’s what these lyrics are about. It’s almost like I resent myself for not advocating for myself, because maybe if I had, things would’ve changed. But I’ve always had an issue with weakness.” She said opening up more and more. “Well I’m glad you are getting better with expressing your needs towards me because you mean a lot to me bils.” You say as you look deep into her eyes. She smiles and waits for your next question.

“En pensant à “Skinny” qui entre dans “Lunch”, cela résume parfaitement l’ambiance du titre, car c’est un peu comme les refroidir puis les réchauffer.” (Thinking about “Skinny” going into “Lunch,” that sums up the vibe of the title perfectly, because it’s kind of like, cool them down and then heat them up.) “That was very purposeful. It’s hard and soft and hard and soft. There’s motifs and melodies that repeat and lyrics that call back to other songs. The songs morph into each other. It was purposeful to have “Skinny” do what it does, and then at the end you hear the drums for “Lunch.” And then “Lunch” comes in and slaps you in the face.” Billie replies and you nod along to her words.

“Vous vous demandez ce que les gens vont dire de la chanson “Lunch”?” (Are you wondering what people are going to say about the song “Lunch”?). “I’m pretty aware of what people will say. It’s so weird to grow up and change in front of the world. The craziest part is discovering things about myself and then suddenly, everyone else knows, and I don’t even have a second to think about how it makes me feel.” She confessed and you felt your heart break for her. “I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” You say as you start rubbing her knuckles. “It was very frustrating but I wouldn’t have done it without you y/n so thank you love.” Billie said giving you a small but loving smile.

“Je me demandais, quand une de vos relations amoureuses se termine, pensez-vous la laisser avec mille questions ? Ou vous laissent-ils avec mille questions ? Ou est-ce partagé 50-50 ? Est-il plus dangereux de tomber amoureux de vous ? Ou est-il plus dangereux pour vous de tomber amoureux?” (I was wondering, when one of your romantic relationships ends, do you think you leave them with a thousand questions? Or do they leave you with a thousand questions? Or is it split 50-50? Is it more dangerous to fall in love with you? Or is it more dangerous for you to fall in love?) “I don’t even know. I think 50-50 is probably accurate. I literally hate who I am so much when I’m in love.” Billie replied and you let out a loud laugh that made her giggle at you.

“That’s one of the most masculine things you’ve said. Jeez Billie.” You giggle out and she smiles. “But don’t worry baby I love how I am when I’m in love with you.” She confessed and you felt your whole face heat up. “je t'aime, l'amour de ma vie.” (I love you, the love of my life). Billies face heat up and she leans over to give you a little kiss on your cheek. “I love you more angel.” She said. She didn’t even need the translator to tell her what you said because you always say I love you and that pet name to her in French. That’s why she named the song after that petname because she loves when you call her that a lot and it means a lot to her. Billie goes back on track and continues to answer your last question.

“I have a power issue and a control issue, and I also don’t like being vulnerable in a romantic way. It makes me feel uncomfortable, and I don’t know how many times I’ve really been in love. I think there’s different versions of love, and I think that you can be in love and it might not be deep. I’m not going to get too in detail, because I’m going to be rude, but I’ve never been dumped, and also, I’ve never been broken up with. I’ve only done the breaking up.” She confessed and you nod. “Yeah I’ve only done that a few times but I’ve mostly gotten broken up with.” You say and Billie nods. I think when people hear that, they’re like, “Oh, all you do is break hearts.” Sure, but that doesn’t mean that people are totally innocent. It means that I was like, “Oh, let me get the fuck out of here.” Or it means things just weren’t right.” Billie continued on.

“Now some of y’all about to be real mad at me, but I do believe that breaking up with someone versus being broken up with, obviously being broken up with hurts like hell, especially when you don’t see it coming and you wanted a future and it’s taken out of your hands. But honestly, the pain of knowing that you have to end something with somebody that you genuinely love is so horrible.” She confessed and you cocked your head to the side. “Really? I’m not sure if I completely agree but I will agree with how it does stay with you longer if you break up with somebody.” You say and Billie adds on. “I think so, too. And you don’t get to even have the, like, “I got dumped, so fuck you guys. I get to go crazy and have a reaction and be mad at you. And I get to make you into an enemy, because you broke up with me.” You can’t do that. You can’t become a victim.” She points out and you give a surprised look on your face.

“That’s actually very true. You don’t get to feel mad and shit. Wow I never thought of it like that.” You explained and Billie smiles. “Pour changer un peu de sujet, ce que vous dites me fait revenir sur vos premières musiques. Votre approche d’écriture n’est pas comme si elle se prêtait à l’hésitation. Il ne s’agit même pas de peindre quelque chose de sombre sur le plan sonore, mais c’est un peu bleu. En fait, tu utilises beaucoup le mot « bleu » dans cet album”. (To change the topic a bit, what you are saying is giving me flashbacks to your early music. Your writing approach is, it’s not like it lends itself to hesitancy. It’s not even painting something dark sonically, but it’s a little bit blue. You actually use the word “blue” a lot in this album).

“I love that you just pointed that out, and it’s making me think about how I don’t love to point fingers. Sometimes you want to, because you’re mad and you want people to feel for you and you want to feel seen. But I’m not going, “You did this to me.” It’s more, like, “We’re all allowed to feel however we feel based on whatever happened.” Also, it’s not about pointing my finger and blaming people: “And everybody, attack this person, because they hurt me.” It’s like, “I hurt me. And I have hurt me multiple times, and I allow other people to get to that point.” And that’s where I’m trying to draw the boundaries and protect my shadow.” Billie added on and you watched her in awe as she explains how she feels. “Comme il se doit. Et c’est parce que vous n’avez pas pointé du doigt que les gens vont se poser mille questions. Pour revenir au fait d'être toujours amoureux, les seules choses qui sont réelles sont les sentiments.” (As you should. And it’s because you didn’t point fingers that people will have a thousand questions. To go back to ever being in love, the only things that are real are feelings).

“I just had an experience the other day. I had some people over, and there was something happening that involved a lot of sensation and feeling and being in your body. And the person who is guiding me through this thing, I won’t even get into it, because it’s irrelevant to what I’m saying, there was this moment where they were talking about communication and saying, “Just remember to be aware of how you feel.” And I remember saying, “Oh, well, this is making me think of this, and I am feeling this.” I kept describing things. And he said to me, “I appreciate your psychoanalysis of what you’re feeling, but I don’t need you to analyze it. I just need you to feel it.” And that got to me. It made me think. It made me feel.” She explained and you felt your eyes tear up at her words. “I love that. It’s really the scariest thing of all. But for overthinkers, it can be a good practice to just feel and then move by those emotions. So yeah, we don’t need to end with a question, because I think the gift of being with you, whether you’re present or nonchalant or considering whether you’re being nonchalant in this moment, is that your instant impact on a room, even if you don’t say anything, makes people feel a lot. Even my band told me that. When you walked out, they were like, “Damn, she’s good. She makes you feel a lot.” And I was like, “Try sitting next to her when she’s looking into your eyes. It’s crazy.”” You say and Billie looks deep in your eyes as you talk.

“Eh bien, je n’ai plus de questions aujourd’hui mais l’amour de ma vie, j’adore ton album et toutes les chansons qu’il contient. Je suis incroyablement fier de toi et merci de m'avoir permis de t'aimer. Au revoir tout le monde ! Le flux m'a frappé fort et doucement!” (Well I don’t have any more questions today but the love of my life, I absolutely love your album and all of the songs on it. I’m so incredibly proud of you and thank you for letting me love you. Goodbye everyone! Stream hit me hard and soft). You waved bye to everyone and Billie was blowing kisses to the camera and the interview was done. Billie and you went back to y’all’s house and spent the rest of the day there in each others arms.

A/n: holy shit that was a lot. Over two thousand words omg. PLEASE REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE, SHARE, ANYTHING PLEASE LMAO thank you anon for the request, I hope you love it and I hope the rest of y’all do too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[kirammanswifey]

《A Love Written in Pain(t)》

Ekko

writer's note: i'm sorry for making my boy suffer again, ekko deserves better but i'm a sucker for drama. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's mel's turn ;)

link:

warnings: fluff, angst, terminal illness, death of oc, ekko is a romantic sweet talented baby, reader can be a jerk sometimes but she kinda cool sometimes.

The music vibrated in the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint and street food. You had come to the urban festival on a friend's recommendation, but you never imagined it would be an afternoon that would change your life. Artists were filling the city's gray walls with bright colors and messages of hope, and among them, one boy stood out.

His white hair contrasted with his skin, and the agile movement of his hand as he slid paint onto the wall was almost hypnotic. The mural he was creating seemed to come alive with every stroke: a girl holding a broken clock, surrounded by gears that spun toward nowhere. The image had something deeply melancholic about it, as if telling a story only a few could understand.

You watched him from afar, too shy to approach, until he noticed your presence. He turned his head and smiled at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and kindness.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming down from the scaffolding with the same ease he seemed to do everything.

"It’s... impressive. But it also feels sad, like it’s about a loss or something that can't be recovered."

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised. "That's exactly what I wanted to convey. It’s about time. How we always think we have more of it than we really do, but we never know when it runs out."

His explanation fit perfectly with what you had felt while observing it. "I saw it more like a fight... like she doesn't want to give up, even if the clock is already broken."

For a moment, Ekko seemed to look at you differently, as if measuring something invisible. "I’ve never thought of it that way. I like that perspective. I guess that’s what’s great about art, right? It’s a conversation."

You smiled, feeling for the first time like someone understood how you saw things. "I guess so."

"Do you always analyze strangers' murals?" he joked, a playful smile on his lips.

"Only when they make me feel something," you replied with a hint of shyness, but without looking away.

"Well, then that’s a compliment."

Hours passed, but you didn’t even notice as the sun began to set. Talking with Ekko felt like discovering a song you didn’t know you needed in your life. He told you about his workshop, his passion for helping the community, and his dreams of changing the world, one gadget at a time.

At some point, he asked about your story, and although you weren’t the type to open up easily, you felt like you could be honest with him.

"I work with kids," you began, searching for the right words. "At an orphanage near my university. I like to think I can do something for them, even if it’s small. I’m studying psychology, and I want to help people like them... people who feel alone."

Ekko nodded, as if understanding every word. "That’s amazing. It’s like... you take care of people, and I try to make sure they take care of the world around them. Maybe you should stop by my workshop sometime. I work with kids from the neighborhood, teaching them how to fix things, build gadgets. We could join forces."

The enthusiasm in his voice was contagious, but you couldn’t help feeling a pang of doubt. It had been a long time since you let yourself connect with someone new, for reasons he didn’t need to know.

"Really? You take anyone?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Only if they have a good eye for art and a heart for kids. You seem to qualify."

When you got up to say goodbye, he pulled out his phone and offered you his contact. "In case you decide to visit the workshop."

You took the phone, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You didn’t know what you were getting into, but something told you that Ekko wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.

By the end of the day, as you walked back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His paint-stained hands, his sincere laugh, and that strange connection you felt from the moment he looked at you.

You didn’t know it yet, but you had just met the love of your life.

A few days after the festival, you still couldn’t get Ekko out of your head. There was something about him that fascinated you: the spark in his eyes when he talked about his dreams, the passion behind every word, his way of seeing the world with optimism despite the struggles. You found yourself re-reading the festival brochure and checking his social media profile, where he shared glimpses of his life: videos of his skate tricks, photos of murals filled with messages of resistance, and small clips explaining how to build gadgets. And pictures of him too and... he was kinda cute.

Finally, you decided to message him.

"Hey, I’m the girl from the mural. You said I could come by your workshop... Is the invitation still open?"

The reply came faster than you expected: "Of course. Come by anytime. The kids will be happy to meet you. Does 4 PM today work?"

The workshop was located in an old brick building in a lively neighborhood. The exterior walls were covered in vibrant graffiti that seemed to tell stories. The main entrance had a huge phrase in bold letters: "We build the future together." When you walked through the door, you found yourself in a space that radiated creativity and chaos in perfect harmony. There were tables filled with tools, parts of half-built gadgets, unfinished murals covering the walls, and a group of kids focused while Ekko enthusiastically explained something to them.

When he saw you, his face lit up, he said with sarcasm: "Hey, the mural girl is here!

You blushed.

"I hope I’m not interrupting," you said, feeling a little shy as all eyes turned toward you.

"Not at all. Actually, come here. I want you to see this."

He led you to a table full of small artifacts and technological pieces. "This is my experiment corner," he said, pointing proudly at the mess. "This is where the magic happens, although sometimes the magic is more frustrating than anything else."

The kids started to gather around, curious, and Ekko introduced you with a warmth that made you feel at home. "She works with kids too. She helps them find their way."

One of the younger ones looked at you with bright eyes. "Really? Do you do cool things like Ekko?"

You bent down to their level, smiling. "I don’t build things like he does, but I try to help people find their strength. Sometimes, the most important thing isn’t what we do with our hands, but with our hearts."

Ekko, who had been listening, looked at you with a mix of admiration and tenderness. "That was deep. I’ll have to write that down for my next mural."

Hours passed in the workshop. You helped the kids with their projects, painted a couple of things with Ekko, and learned more about his life. In a moment of calm, while the kids were absorbed in their creations, Ekko sat next to you, a screwdriver in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know? This place means a lot to me," he started, his tone more serious than before. "When I was a kid, there was nothing like this in my neighborhood. Growing up here was... complicated. There wasn’t always someone to turn to when things got tough."

"How did you manage to get through it?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Ekko smiled sadly. "It was thanks to my mom. She always told me that, even though we couldn’t change where we were born, we could change what we did with it. She taught me not to give up, to find ways to transform things, even if they were small. When she died... well, I promised myself I’d do something so other kids wouldn’t have to feel as alone as I did."

He paused, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hands. "At first, I didn’t know how. I just knew I wanted to make a difference. That’s when I discovered skateboarding, art, and technology. They were my escapes. And over time, they became my way of communicating, of creating something that mattered."

You felt a lump in your throat listening to his story. There was something about the way he spoke, the vulnerability behind his words, that made every detail come alive. "You’ve done something incredible here, Ekko. This place... it’s not just a workshop. It’s a home."

He looked at you, surprised by your words, then smiled, although his eyes glowed with contained emotion. "Thanks. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough. But hearing that... it makes me think maybe I am."

"You’re amazing." You squeezed his hand as a gesture of affection and respect, which made him smile shyly.

When the day ended, Ekko walked you to the door of the workshop. "So, what do you think?"

"I loved it! It’s like a refuge from the world."

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck with some shyness. "I try to make it that way. And I’m glad you came. The kids got along really well with you. They liked you."

"And you?" you asked, before you could stop yourself.

"Me?"

"Do you like me?"

For a moment, he seemed surprised by your question, but then he smiled with that spark in his eyes that you were starting to recognize. "I think so."

You said goodbye with a smile that didn’t leave your face the entire way home, carrying the feeling that, in some way, you had found a place where you belonged.

The afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden light as you walked toward the park where Ekko had arranged to meet you. You weren’t sure what to expect; when he had suggested it, you thought it would be a simple, casual activity. But when you arrived and saw him carrying two skateboards, a mischievous smile on his face, you realized this wasn’t going to be any ordinary day.

“Are you ready to become a professional skater in just one afternoon?” Ekko asked, raising an eyebrow as he held a helmet in one hand and a board in the other.

“Professional? I can barely stay on my feet without falling,” you replied, laughing nervously.

“That’s what makes it fun,” he said, walking up to you to adjust your helmet. His fingers brushed your skin as he fastened it, and you noticed his movements were unnecessarily slow, as if he were looking for an excuse to be closer to you.

“And you? Are you going to wear a helmet or trust your legendary skill?”

Ekko shrugged, smiling to the side. “Nah, I was born for this.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, nudging him with your shoulder.

The park had a wide track with ramps and flatter areas where beginners could practice. Ekko led you to one of these areas and began with a quick lesson.

“First, keep your feet steady. Don’t look down, look where you want to go. The board will follow your intentions.”

“My intentions? What am I, a witch controlling the skateboard with my mind?”

Ekko laughed. “Something like that. Though, if you were a witch, you’d probably have learned how to fly on this thing by now.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but on your first attempt, the board shot out from under you, and you ended up on the ground.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” Ekko was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“I’m fine,” you said, though you could barely stop laughing. “I think the board hates me.”

“No, you just have to conquer it. Look.” He jumped onto his skateboard with a fluidity that seemed to defy gravity. He glided smoothly along the track, doing small tricks to impress you. “See? You just need confidence.”

“Of course, confidence is the only thing I’m lacking,” you joked.

After several attempts, you started to improve. You managed to stay on the board for more than a few seconds, though falls were still frequent. Every time you fell, Ekko was there, offering a hand to help you up, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

After a while, both of you sat on a nearby bench to rest. Ekko took out his phone and began searching for something in his playlist.

“I’ve got the perfect song for this moment,” he said, setting it to play on the speaker.

Tyler, the Creator’s melodic voice filled the air with the song "See You Again." Ekko looked at you with a smile that seemed to hold something more than just fun.

“Why this song?” you asked, trying to interpret the meaning behind his choice.

“It reminds me of you,” he replied, his tone more serious than you expected.

You paused for a moment, allowing the music to fill the space between you. You knew there was something in his words, something he was trying to say without saying it. But instead of confronting it, you chose to laugh, avoiding the weight of the moment.

“Wow, Ekko, if you wanted to dedicate me a song, you could’ve chosen something less obvious,” you joked, pretending not to notice the gleam in his eyes.

He smiled, but there was something in his expression that made you feel a slight pang of guilt. You knew he was trying to open up to you, and you had deflected it.

As the afternoon went on, the topic faded, but a subtle tension lingered in the air. It wasn’t just about him; it was also about you. There was something you couldn’t share with Ekko, something that weighed on you more with each passing day. Your illness wasn’t an easy topic, especially now when you were just starting to get to know each other.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you both walked toward the graffiti area of the park.

“I’m not quiet. I’m… thinking.”

“About what?”

“How easy it is to be with you,” you said without thinking. The sincerity in your words took him by surprise, and you could see his expression soften.

“Well, I’m glad it’s easy. But if you ever need to talk about something hard, I’m here too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth that made you feel guilty.

“Thanks,” was all you managed to respond.

Days later, Ekko took you to the graffiti area. He had been working on something in secret and didn’t want to tell you what it was until he finished.

“Ready to see how I see you?”

When you turned the corner and saw the mural, you were left speechless. It was your face, captured with an astonishing level of detail. Your hair seemed to move with the breeze, and your eyes were filled with a light you didn’t recognize at first. Around your face, Ekko had painted details that only the two of you would understand: small rays of light that seemed to represent hope, and a golden phrase that read:

“Life is short, but art is eternal.”

“Ekko…” you murmured, unable to find words to describe how you felt.

“This is what I see when I look at you. You're art,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

The mural was more than just an image. It was a reflection of how he saw you: as someone bright, unique, and irreplaceable. As you looked at it, you promised yourself that one day you would tell him the truth, even though you feared losing what you had.

The morning began with Ekko knocking on your door, carrying a huge box that almost covered his face.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I staying here decorating the hallway?" he said, balancing the box.

You laughed, opening the door wide. "What do you have there? A corpse?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, baby" he joked, walking in and setting the box on the table.

Baby, that's how he was used to call you now. It didn't felt wrong, in fact, you liked it. It felt so good when he said it to you. It made you feel special. It made you feel loved. It made you feel his.

"It's for tomorrow's event. We're going to need a lot of help to make sure everything goes smoothly."

"An event? What are you talking about?"

Ekko leaned forward, resting on the table with a smile that combined enthusiasm and a bit of nervousness. "It's for the kids in the neighborhood. I'm organizing a sort of fair. Games, music, food... you know, something to help them forget for a while everything that's going on down here."

The morning passed organizing ideas. Ekko had an almost contagious energy, moving around your apartment like a whirlwind while making lists, dividing tasks, and talking about his plans.

"So, what do you think of a painting workshop? We could get some cheap canvases and brushes. I'm sure the kids would love to express themselves that way."

"I love it," you replied, watching his face light up. "How do you have so much energy for this?"

"It's important," he said, his tone turning more serious. "These kids... a lot of them don't have anyone who really shows them that they matter. If I can do something to change that, even for just one day, I will."

Your heart tightened as you listened to his words. There was something deeply inspiring about his dedication, how he used his own pain as fuel to improve the lives of others.

"So, where do I fit into all of this?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smile.

"Simple. You're my right hand. Plus, no one can resist your brilliant ideas and that smile of yours," he said, winking before turning back to focus on his plans.

In the afternoon, Ekko took you to his loft to check out some materials he had gathered for the event. His home was filled with curious objects: disassembled tech pieces, unfinished paintings, and notebooks full of sketches and notes.

"This place is like your brain made into physical space," you commented, looking around with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Definitely."

You went up to the roof, where there was a small area Ekko had transformed into a personal retreat. There, he showed you his next project: a portable device designed to help people with motor disabilities perform everyday tasks with greater ease.

"How does it work?" you asked, taking the gadget in your hands.

"It's a prototype," he explained, sitting next to you. "The idea is for it to adapt to different needs. For example, someone with trouble holding objects could use it for a firmer grip. It's simple, but it could make a difference."

You looked at him, impressed. "Ekko, this is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"I guess... I've always wanted to fix things. People, places, systems... whatever." He paused, looking at the horizon. "I don't know, I feel like it's the only thing I really know how to do."

The sincerity in his voice moved you. "You're not fixing things, Ekko. You're improving them. That's something very different."

Later, as you both worked on the final details for the event, Ekko looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uneasy.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you always keep your distance? Sometimes I feel like you're here, but at the same time, you're not. Like there's something you don't want me to see."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't expect Ekko to be so direct.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, his voice firmer. "I've noticed how you avoid certain topics, how you change the conversation when something gets too personal. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"It's not that," you replied, feeling the frustration building inside you. "There are just things I don't need to share. Not everything has to be so... open."

"Not with me?"

His question hit you like a punch to the stomach. You stood up from the chair, unable to stay seated under his probing gaze. "Ekko, it's not as simple as you think."

"Then explain it," he said, standing up as well. "Because from here, it seems like you're more concerned with what you're hiding than with what we have."

What you two had was complicated. You weren't friends, you were more than that, but you weren't a couple either. It was complicated. And you didn't like to think about complicated things.

"You have no idea what you're saying!"

The raised tone of your voice surprised both of you. You felt the stress and physical exhaustion begin to take their toll. Your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet.

"Baby, are you okay?" Ekko stepped toward you, but before he could reach you, your legs gave out.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of his voice, filled with panic.

You opened your eyes under a cold, white light. The smell of disinfectant confirmed what you feared: you were in a hospital. You turned your head and saw Ekko sitting next to your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands intertwined.

The room was silent, only broken by the soft sound of the monitor marking the rhythm of your breathing. The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, creating patterns on the floor, but the calm was deceiving. You knew Ekko was worried, hurt, but what worried you the most was what Ekko had started to suspect. You couldn’t keep hiding it, and you knew the time to talk had come.

Ekko had probably been sitting in the chair next to your bed for hours, staring at the wall, lost in thoughts that seemed to consume him. You didn’t know if he hated you or if he was just trying to process what had just happened. After all, you had fallen unconscious in his arms, leaving him with a heavier emotional burden than any gadget prototype or community event. Now, he was paying the price for your secret.

“Ekko?”

He quickly lifted his head, and the mix of relief and worry on his face broke your heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t the same as usual. There was something broken in it.

“Baby, what’s going on? What haven’t you told me? The doctor... the doctor told me that...”

It was obvious that the doctor had given him more details than you had wanted to share. You hadn’t planned on opening up to him like this. But something in his gaze, the clear worry, and the deep sadness, made you say what you had kept hidden for so long.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you said, taking a deep breath. “The illness I have has no cure.”

After a long silence, and before everything could completely fall apart, you decided to explain more deeply about the illness that was consuming you because you knew Ekko needed to understand it fully, even though you weren’t sure you could save what was left between you both.

“Ekko… what I have is a rare, autoimmune disease. My immune system is attacking my own organs. It’s called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, and there’s no cure. It’s like my body is fighting against me all the time, little by little.”

Ekko stared at you in silence, as if he couldn’t process every word. He knew that everything you had said before, although important, wasn’t enough to understand what was really happening.

“When?” he asked, his voice tense, almost inaudible. “Since when?”

“I started feeling bad when I was 23,” you continued, your voice trembling. “It hurt all the time, and the fever wouldn’t go away. At first, I thought it was something temporary. But then I fainted once, and that’s when they admitted me to the hospital. That’s when they told me that what was happening in my body was much worse than I imagined. From there, my life completely changed. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I lost energy, I lost weight, and the flare-ups became more frequent. It’s like my body is in a constant war, and there’s no way to win it.”

The feeling of vulnerability overwhelmed you as Ekko, standing at the door, continued to look at you with a mix of disbelief and pain.

But before he could say anything, you threw out one last statement that seemed to come from the deepest part of your soul:

“And I don’t know how much time I have left, Ekko. I just know that I can’t live knowing I’m dragging you with me.”

Ekko stood still for a moment, processing your words. His breathing became heavier, as if an invisible weight had fallen on him. Finally, his eyes sought yours, and what he saw in them wasn’t surprise. It was like, somehow, he already knew, as if he had sensed it all this time.

“Your parents?” Ekko asked again, his eyes fixed on you, searching for answers that you couldn’t hide anymore.

“My parents don’t know,” you said, letting out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within. “They have no idea. How am I going to tell them that? How am I going to tell them? No… I don’t want them to see me as a project they need to save. I want them to see me for who I am, to see me as their daughter, not as a broken thing they need to take care of. I don’t want to be a burden. I’m not going to be a burden.”

Ekko looked at you, his eyes filled with frustration, but also with a sadness so deep that it made you question whether he really knew you as well as you thought.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide all of this from me? Did you think you could protect me from the truth? What were you really protecting—me or yourself?”

The punch of his words was like a gut punch. The wound you had tried to seal with lies and evasions started to bleed, and the emotion overflowed in you like a river that couldn’t be stopped.

“I don’t know…” you stammered, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know, Ekko. I wanted… I wanted all of this to keep being normal. For it not to be so… so heavy. I wanted to do everything I’ve always wanted to do before… before it ended. I wanted to leave my mark on the world before I’m gone, to leave something that was worth it.”

Ekko began to pace back and forth. His frustration became more palpable, but there was something else in his attitude, something you hadn’t recognized at first.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he yelled, and the vehemence in his words made everything in the room feel even denser. “I don’t understand why you had to carry all of this alone. Why did you shut me out, baby? Why did you make me believe that everything was okay?”

“Because it was easier that way,” you said, the words tumbling out. “Because what’s happening inside me… how do you explain that to someone who doesn’t understand? How do I explain that my body is already losing the battle, that I won’t be here much longer, that everything I touch will fade?”

The anger in Ekko’s eyes faded for a second, and what remained was a sadness so deep it seemed to swallow the light in the room.

“And what about me, baby?” he said, his voice softer, more broken. “What about us? Did you really think I didn’t care? Did you really think I could go on without knowing what’s happening to you? That I could keep smiling and helping you as if nothing was going to change?”

At that moment, something inside you broke. Without thinking, the words left your mouth, sharp and like a dagger:

“Stop looking for it in me, Ekko. I’m not your mother. I’m not her. Don’t project that onto me! I don’t want to be the memory of what you lost. I don’t want to carry that responsibility, or the guilt of not being what you expected.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was unbearable. Ekko took a step back, his face contorting with a mix of pain and confusion. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“How could you say that?” he whispered, his voice broken, as if every word he spoke cost him more than the last. “I never ‘projected’ her onto you. It’s just… I don’t want you to keep pushing me away. I don’t want you to keep hiding your fears from me.”

And then, both of you stood there, in that emotional abyss that neither of you knew how to cross. Frustration, fear, love, and sadness intertwined in the room, as if time had stopped completely.

Finally, the silence became unbearable. You sat up in bed, defeated, while Ekko turned and walked toward the door. His body tense, his breathing ragged, and the pain in his face made him feel more real than ever.

Before leaving, he stopped and looked at you one last time. “If you had used your psychology for yourself instead of for everyone else, maybe you could’ve avoided this.”

The door slammed behind him with a dull thud, and you were left there, alone, with the echo of his words ringing in your ears.

Time had passed. The days and nights blurred into a mixture of conflicting feelings, unfinished memories, and a void that both of them tried to fill without success. The argument between Ekko and you had left deep scars, although both of you knew it couldn't be the end. Not for you. However, there was something neither of you had been able to face: fear. Fear of love, fear of tragedy, and fear of losing each other before either of you expected it.

You had distanced yourself for a week. A week that had been heavier than you ever imagined. In every corner, in every solitary moment, in every thought, Ekko was there, like a persistent shadow. No matter what you did, how you tried to ignore him, the emptiness left by his departure enveloped you more and more. You tried to convince yourself it was for the best, that moving on without him was the right thing to do. But you were lying to yourself, you knew you couldn't continue without him. Not that way.

Finally, after days of deliberation, finding the strength to face your own fear, you decided to go find him. You had to talk to him, make amends, and make a decision. If you were going to die, you would do it without regrets, without leaving words unsaid, or missed opportunities. You wouldn’t care about the shadows of the future, but you couldn’t keep living with the weight of silence between you two.

You found yourself standing in front of his door, hands trembling and heart pounding in your chest. You knew what you had to say, what you wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in your throat.

The door slowly opened, and there he was, Ekko, with that gaze that, though intense, still carried a hint of sadness. There was something in his face that told you he had been searching for you in his mind as well, though his eyes didn't yet recognize it.

"Ekko…" you finally said, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Without saying a word, Ekko took a step back and opened the door, inviting you inside. The atmosphere in the room was heavier than you remembered, as if everything unsaid still lingered in the air.

You stood in front of him, your eyes fixed on his, while the words that needed to come out didn't come immediately. But in the end, you decided.

"Ekko, I know I failed you. I know, and I’m deeply sorry. It was never my intention, it never was." You took a deep breath, struggling to control the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "But I'm here because… because I need to know if you're still willing to fight with me. If you're willing to continue this battle, to stay by my side for as long as I can."

Ekko stared at you for a moment, his face impassive, but his gaze was full of something you couldn’t decipher. There was a long pause, and then, with a sincerity that made you shiver, he responded:

"I’ve always been willing, baby. From the moment I met you, I’ve been willing to fight for you, for what we have. I don’t care what comes, I don’t care how long it is. What matters to me is that you don’t leave, that you don’t leave me behind."

Those words were everything you needed. No more doubts, no more fears. You embraced his answer with your soul, with the certainty that, finally, both of you were ready to accept the truth. The truth of who you were, what you felt, and what the future held for you.

From that day on, things changed. Although you knew each moment was a fleeting gift, you decided to make the most of it. Ekko never stopped being by your side, and you did the same for him. You were determined to live intensely, no matter how short the life you had left. And he, he was willing to love you until the end.

He accompanied you to every medical appointment, always with a smile, always willing to do anything to lighten the pain caused by the treatment. The hospital visits weren’t easy, but his presence made everything more bearable. He held your hand before entering the consultations, hugged you after every diagnosis, and never let the moments of uncertainty crush you.

"I don’t want you to be afraid," you said one day, after one of your doctor visits, while walking together through the streets, taking a break at a small café. "But I know you feel it. I know every time we go in there, it kills you a little inside."

Ekko looked at you, his gaze full of both pain and tenderness. "It’s not fear," he replied, his voice soft. "It’s not knowing how to save you. I don’t know what to do when I see you so fragile. All I can do is be here, by your side."

And that was enough. Even though both of you knew you couldn’t stop time, nor the illness, what you could do was share every second, every laugh, every small victory, and every defeat.

But it wasn’t only moments of pain and fear. There were also moments of joy, of beauty, and of creation.

Together, you started working on the project you both dreamed of—the gadget you had envisioned, which could change the way the world saw technology. Even though your health was becoming more fragile, Ekko made sure you didn’t stop. You worked side by side, sharing ideas, making decisions, and facing obstacles, but always together. It was your way of fighting, of resisting, of holding on to life amidst the chaos.

One day, while working on the final design, Ekko surprised you with an idea. "How about, in addition to all this, we paint something? Something that’s ours, something that represents what we’re doing together."

At first, you didn’t completely understand what he meant, but soon you did. Together, you would create something more than just a gadget. You would paint a mural, one that symbolized not only your dreams and love, but also the struggle you shared. The mural would represent life, love, and hope, even though you knew time was limited.

In your mind, that mural became the testament of your story, a reminder of what you had built together. The colors shone on the wall, the shapes wild and beautiful, just like your love. The mural wasn’t just a work of art, but also a promise. The promise that, no matter what else might crumble, your love would never fade. No matter how much time you had left.

The last strokes were made one sunny afternoon, in a deep, shared silence. The piece was finished, and as you stepped back to admire it in its entirety, both of you knew you didn’t need words to understand what it meant.

The mural was more than a reminder of your love; it was a testament to what you had built together, of how, even in the darkness, you had found light. Though the future remained uncertain, the mural would stay there, eternal, as a trace of what once was and would always be.

As the days passed, time seemed to grow more valuable, more scarce. You knew that every minute spent with Ekko was a gift. And although illness had taken much from you, it had given you something you never imagined: a deep, real love that feared no tragedy.

One afternoon, while resting together in his loft, Ekko looked at you seriously, more serious than you’d seen him in a long time. In a soft voice, almost as if afraid of the answer, he asked:

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You paused for a few seconds, feeling the weight of the question. But in that moment, something inside you broke. You smiled tenderly, a smile full of love and resignation.

"Ekko," you said softly, moving closer to him, "we’re so much more than that."

The smile he gave you was the answer both of you needed. You didn’t need labels, you didn’t need promises of an uncertain future. The only thing that mattered was that, in that instant, you shared something so deep and real that it didn’t need to be defined by words.

And, without another word, your lips met in a first kiss, a kiss full of love, despair, and hope. A kiss that marked the beginning of what both of you knew would be a short story, but one that would last a lifetime in your hearts.

The weeks following the reconciliation were a whirlwind of emotions. Even though you knew time was running out, you decided to live each moment with Ekko as if it were the last, because in reality, it was. Sometimes, the smiles were forced, but in the most sincere moments, you could see in his eyes the reflection of a love so strong it took your breath away. Every time he looked at you, every time he held your hand, there was a mix of hope and pain, but neither of you wanted to face the inevitable.

The illness progressed rapidly. Every day, your body seemed to fall apart a little more. The doctors had told you, warned you, but you never imagined how quickly the end would come. You had learned to live with the pain, the fatigue, the moments of weakness, but nothing had prepared you to see Ekko closely watching the changes happening inside you.

You had already told your parents about it, and when you did it he was there with you, by your side, ride or die. And of course they didn't take it well, but there was nothing they could do. They just let you be happy with Ekko.

Sometimes, when you woke up in the morning, you’d see him sitting beside you, his gaze lost in some undefined point, as if he were waiting for you to wake up from the shared dream. He’d ask you how you were feeling, and you’d always say you were fine, even though the truth was you could barely bear the weight of your own body.

You saw him trying to distract you, taking you to places that made you happy, but you knew nothing could escape that reality. He didn’t want to accept what was happening, and neither did you, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud. No one wanted to mention what was already so obvious.

That night, after another doctor’s appointment that you could barely endure, you lay down hoping to rest, even though it was becoming harder and harder to find deep sleep. Your body no longer responded the way it used to, and the symptoms had started affecting you more brutally. You could barely move your hands without feeling pain, your breathing grew more labored with every effort, but you kept smiling. You had to, not only for Ekko, but for yourself.

Ekko was sitting beside you in the chair he always occupied when taking care of you. His presence was as comforting as it was painful. You knew he was holding onto every fragment of his strength to not show you how devastated he was, but you could feel it in his eyes. He gently stroked your hair and whispered, as though afraid that if he spoke any louder, everything would collapse.

“I promise we’ll get through this. Together, we’ll make it. I won’t let you leave me, not without a fight.”

You looked at him, knowing he was struggling not to cry. But his words, although full of love, only reminded you of the harsh reality. There was no more time for promises, no more room for fighting. The end was near, and you knew it.

“Ekko…” you said, your voice weak. “You don’t have to fight anymore. I’ve loved you so much, you know that, right?”

His eyes filled with tears, but he made an effort to smile. “I know. I know, baby. And I love you more than words can say.”

But what you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ekko was also fighting his own pain. While you rested, trying to gather some strength, he was in the workshop, working frantically on the gadget, the project you both had shared. The same gadget that, in his mind, represented everything you had built together. The gadget wasn’t just an object. It was the manifestation of what you two could accomplish when united, when you fought as a team.

Ekko knew the gadget couldn’t save you. He knew nothing could save you. But still, he felt that if he finished that project, a piece of you would remain. A trace of the hope you had brought into his life.

Hours passed, and the night stretched on in heavy silence. Ekko was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize time was slipping away. The light in the workshop flickered as he soldered pieces, making adjustments, checking everything over and over, as if somehow he could turn back time, change the course of history. But he knew he couldn’t.

When he finally gave up on the gadget, exhausted from the intensity of the night and the weight of worry, he went up to the bedroom. He wanted to see you, wanted to make sure you were still breathing, even though he already feared what he might find. He entered the room with the hope that, by some miracle, everything had changed. But what he found was the silhouette of your body lying still. In the absolute silence of the room, Ekko slowly approached, his heart pounding, and when he reached your side, he touched your hand gently. It was cold. Too cold.

The shock paralyzed him for a second. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t accept that you were no longer there, by his side, where you had always been. He looked at you, observing your pale face, your peaceful expression, as if you were simply sleeping, but deep down, he knew there was no turning back.

Desperation washed over him. The pain hit him so hard it felt as though his chest would explode. How was it possible? How could something so beautiful, so real, vanish in the blink of an eye?

He knelt by the bed, gripping your hand tightly, as if by doing so, he could bring you back to life. “You can’t go,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the tears he could no longer hold back. “Not now. Not like this.”

But deep in his heart, he knew it was the end. He knew he couldn’t bring back what was already gone. He couldn’t revive the irreparable. And for the first time in his life, Ekko didn’t have a solution, he didn’t have a plan. All that was left was the pain, and that painful acceptance that it was all over.

In the following week, Ekko lived in a limbo. No one saw him, no one knew how to face his pain. Memories of you were everywhere. In the bed where you slept, in the gadget he completed, in the mural you painted together, in the streets where you both walked, always hand in hand. Everything that had once been a dream was now just an echo, a shadow.

Sometimes he’d find himself in front of your photo, the smile you shared on a random afternoon, one that he could no longer remember without the lump in his throat becoming unbearable. The reality hit him harder each time: you were no longer there.

Ekko became a shadow of himself. His mind still searched for you, as though somehow you might return, as though he could find a way to save you. But nothing could change what had happened.

In his darkest moments, Ekko would remember the last words you had said: “I’ve loved you so much.” Those words gave him strength to keep going, to not give up completely. Though the pain was unbearable, he had loved you, and that was something he would never forget.

And with the gadget in his hand, looking at the mural you both painted, Ekko made a promise, a silent promise: he would live to honor what you shared. He wouldn’t let your death be in vain. Your love, your fight, your story would live on in his heart, forever.

The city, as always, continued its course, indifferent to everything Ekko had lost, to everything that had changed in his world. But for him, the day was no longer just a succession of hours; every second was a struggle to find something that gave his pain and love meaning.

Months had passed since you left, but it felt like your absence was so recent, so sharp, that Ekko couldn't stop feeling that his entire being was stuck between life and death. No matter how much time had passed, your image was engraved in his mind, not as a memory, but as a constant presence, a voice whispering in his ear, as if you had never left.

Today, in particular, everything seemed to pull him back to the pieces of his pain. The project you had worked on together, the gadget, was finally ready. After so many sleepless nights, so much effort and sacrifice, the moment to present it had arrived. It had been a creation of love, passion, and farewell. A tribute to you, to what you shared, to what still remained of you in his heart.

Ekko walked with firm steps toward the community event where he would present the gadget. Around him, the people, some curious, others hopeful to see the result of years of teamwork. But he couldn't see them. He couldn't see beyond his own thoughts, the image of you floating in his mind. Sometimes, he thought that everything he had done in the past few months was just a way to avoid facing the truth: that you were gone and that, despite everything, life had to go on.

He entered the venue, a large hall filled with tables covered in technology, art, and brilliant inventions. The gadget was there, on a pedestal, waiting to be presented. Ekko stared at it in silence for a moment, recalling every afternoon spent working on it together. The design was sleek, full of details that reflected his intelligence and your ability to come up with unimaginable solutions. It was more than just a gadget; it was a piece of you, a piece of what they had been together.

The event began, and Ekko, with a calm that only he could have, presented his creation. He explained, with soft but firm words, how the idea had been born, how you had been the spark of inspiration for something that transcended technology and reached the heart. As he spoke, the words intertwined with memories, with your laughter, your jokes, the long nights spent debating the design, the future, and what they wanted to do. Every word felt like a sigh from the past, a sigh that tried to make the present make sense.

But inside him, Ekko knew that everything he was doing was just an echo of what had been. What remained was the emptiness, the absence you had left in his life.

When he finished, he stepped away from the stage, letting the gadget speak for itself. No one in the room understood what that creation really meant. No one knew how much it had cost, not in terms of hours of work, but in terms of love, sacrifice, and farewell. They didn’t understand that every screw, every adjustment, had been made with the hope that, in some way, it would bring you back, even if only for a second.

After the presentation, Ekko moved away from the bustle, walking slowly toward a secluded corner of the city. There, on the wall, was the first mural that he painted of you. The mural was a mural of love, hope, and pain. A mural that reflected every laugh they shared, every glance, every moment they had lived together. In the mural, you were more than just a figure; you were a story told in colors and shapes, in every stroke Ekko had made, in every brushstroke you had guided. The mural wasn’t just art; it was a piece of his soul, his heart, of you.

When Ekko stopped in front of the mural, the wind gently blew, moving some fallen leaves on the ground. His eyes, moist, traced every part of the painting, as if he were searching for something he would never find. He remembered how you had smiled while he was painting you, how you had loved it so much when he showed it to you.

The mural showed a version of you that was etched in his memory. He saw you, with your serene smile and your eyes full of dreams and desires. But what really stood out in the mural was your figure, as if everything else was just a stage for you, for what you meant in his life.

"We did it, baby," Ekko whispered, as if he could hear your voice responding, as if you were still there. "We did it together. Everything we dreamed, everything we wanted... we did it."

His tears began to fall, one by one, flowing like a torrent he could no longer hold back. His heart broke once more, but there was something in the sadness of that moment that gave him a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was because he finally understood that, even though you had gone, the love you shared could not disappear. Love doesn’t vanish with death; it stays, like a shadow that always follows the light. In the mural, in the gadget, in his memories, you would always be a part of him, forever.

Ekko stepped away from the mural, glancing one last time at the figure that now represented everything he had lost. He looked toward the future, toward the horizon, where the lights were beginning to flicker on, and the streets once again filled with people who knew nothing of what he had been through. An uncertain future, but a future he would have to face, because at the end of the day, what really mattered was how he would live after the loss.

With the image of the mural etched in his mind, Ekko moved forward. And in his heart, a promise: he would never forget what you both shared, he would never forget the legacy you left, and he would move forward with the strength of your love, because now he understood that love didn’t die, it transformed, just like art does. Like you did.

[festivalsofmargot]

Hi!! I love your imagines so much!! And I had a request if possible! Maybe f!reader and Sebastian sneak into the prefect bathroom for a bath together after a long day or something and one thing leaders to another..

My Sleep Remedy

{Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader}

AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are nearing the end of their 7th year and are 18+)

Word Count: ~ 5,100 words

Warnings: 18+ smut, (first time having sex, fingering, handjob, oral)

Author’s Note: Just want to say right away that I’m not a lore master on Harry Potter, I’ve only read the first book, seen the movies, and obsessed over Hogwarts Legacy. I think you need a password to get into the prefects’ bathroom but I’m going by HL rules where you can just walk in lmfaooo. Thank you for the request, anon!!! I got really into this one and had so much fun writing it. Hopefully you guys have as much fun reading it ❤ Now kick back and turn off your brain. I cleared your schedule for you, enjoy 🥰

Songs (if interested):

Spiracle - Flower Face

snowfall (Slowed + Reverb) -  Øneheart, reidenshi

You’d think, after everything you had to do to catch up having come in late as a 7th year, you’d be out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Yet sleep still found a way to evade you. After tossing and turning with no signs of your eyelids growing heavier, you decided to sneak out of your dorm and wander the halls of Hogwarts once again. Maybe you could stumble upon some demiguise statues for Mr. Moon.

With the disillusionment spell coating you, you walked the halls easily, taking in all the paintings and statues. It was a shame you only had one year here, there was no way you could see the entirety of the castle in such a short time. Turning a corner, you rammed into a solid, invisible object.

The feel of hands steadied you as your rubbed at your nose. The disillusionment spell wore off for both you and Sebastian Sallow.

“Sebastian.” You said in pleasant surprise, smiling up at him. “What are you doing up?”

“Had trouble sleeping. Decided to follow your lead and go on one of these -” He waved his hand dismissively in the air, “night walks you rave so much about.” He chuckled, keeping his voice low. Of everyone he could have had insomnia with, he was happy it was you.

“Same here. Decided I might as well look for more of those demiguise statues. No idea why they bother Mr. Moon so much, I think they’re pretty adorable. Care to join me? Or did you want to be alone?”

He appreciated you asking, especially in such a way that he felt he could say ‘no’ if he needed. But he didn’t need to, or want to. “Count me in.” He smiled. “I think I spotted one in the prefects’ bathroom.”

You quirked a brow at him. “What were you doing in there?”

“Bathing, what else?”

“One of the prefects invited you to join them, did they?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, playfully shoving your shoulder.

“It’s my last year, so I figured ‘why not’? Wanted to try it at least once. And if I was caught, I’m sure people would have been happy I've moved on from the restricted section. Now come on.”

“Lead the way.”

-

You and Sebastian arrived at the prefects’ bathroom, cloaked in the disillusionment spell. “If I remember right, I think I saw it just over...” His eyes scanned the bathroom.

“Ah, there it is.” You strode up to it, your disillusionment spell fading. You picked it up and twirled it in your hand as you returned to Sebastian’s side. “One more down, Merlin knows how many to go.” You sighed.

He let his disillusionment fade as well, taking the moon from your hand to look it over himself. Really, he just needed a temporary distraction, every now and then he would get this terrible urge to kiss you. You never had to do anything special for the thought to pop into his head, all he could do was suffer in silence until the ache went away. 

He handed the moon back to you and looked out to the bathroom. “You know, why don’t you give this bath a go? It could help you fall asleep, now that you got one less moon to worry about.”

He could see you thinking on it, clearly tempted.

“Come on, you came in late as a 7th year and you’ve been working yourself to the bone. I say you’ve earned it. It’s your only year at Hogwarts and we’re almost finished anyway. Go for it.”

“You’re such a bad influence.” You smirked at him, then scanned your eyes over the room. “This place is beautiful though, especially at night.” You thought aloud. “But what about you? If it helps you sleep, you should use it. I can come back for it another night when you’re feeling better.”

Sebastian was tempted too, this place had relaxed him in the way he needed most. It was pure tranquility. After everything that had happened that year, having that little bit of peace this place offered helped greatly. But he shook his head, “All yours tonight.”

You eyed him sadly as he looked down at his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. You’d much rather he took it. You didn’t want to part ways with him quite yet either, but maybe this was his way of saying he needed to be alone at the moment. “Alright... thank you, Sebastian. Wait, how often do the prefects come to check on this place?”

“If they hear water running, they’re not coming in here.” He reassured you. “Even if they did suspect you weren’t someone who was allowed in here, they’d at least wait until you were clothed to rat you out.”

“Makes sense.” You exhaled, looking upon the immaculate bath the size of a pond. The thought of sitting in this beautiful, moonlit room enveloped in warm water was more enticing by the second.

Sebastian could see your dreamy stare and decided it was time for him to go. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He shot you a grin as he turned to make his way out.

“Seb.” You called softly, speaking before thinking.

“Hmm?” He turned to face you easily. 

“I um...” You didn’t want him to leave. Though you spent most of your days stuck together like glue, you wanted even more of him to yourself. You only had a few more weeks at Hogwarts, and then who knew where the two of you would be? 

He felt as if his heart skipped a beat when he saw the look on your face, he had never seen it on you before. It wasn’t happy, it wasn’t sad. It was hopeful... and aching. He didn’t know what to make of it as he waited for you to continue. He could see your chest rising and falling, your breathing seeming to get heavier. The sight made the wait for you to speak feel like it took ages.

You cleared your throat, mustering up the courage for your next words. “Please stay.”

His insides constricted in the most volatile way. You couldn’t possibly mean you wanted to bathe together, could you? Maybe you just thought you two could put your feet in the water? Surely no nakedness involved. Oh wonderful, he was thinking of you naked even though you were only a few feet away from him. He swallowed thickly. What do I say? What do I say?

‘Yes’ seemed like the best answer. On one hand, it could be innocent and there was no need for his mind to have taken him to such a risqué place. On the other, if you did want to bathe with him, he’d be the world’s biggest blockhead if he said ‘no’. 

He had fallen hard and fast for you his final year at Hogwarts. He wished, more than anything, you came in as a 1st year so you two could have made more memories together. But only one year with you was the hand he was dealt. So he’d take every second he could, no amount of time would have felt like it was enough anyhow.

After everything you had done for him, picking him back up after what happened with Anne and Solomon, keeping his friendship with Ominis in tact, and sticking by his side even though you’ve seen the worst sides of him, how could you possibly want someone like me? You were far, far too good for him.

Who was he fooling? There was no way he would have ever said ‘no’ to you. 

“I'll stay.” He answered as he took a step towards you, but that was all he’d let himself do. You needed to make the next move, so he could know what you wanted from him that night. He’d give you everything and more, all you needed to do was ask.

It was hard to keep calm when the flutter in your chest felt so overwhelming. Becoming jumpy, you brought your fingers up to unclasp your robes. 

His eyes went dark. Merlin’s sake, he needed to get it together. He had seen you take off your robes countless times before. And for all he knew, you’d only be taking off your shoes and tights as well.

You glanced up at him when you slipped your robes off, then went to put them at the front of the room near the large stack of towels. 

Sebastian watched your hips as you passed him. Easy now, still don’t know how far you want to go with this. He darted his gaze away and shrugged off his own robes. After tossing it aside, he went to turn on the faucets to fill up the giant tub. He desperately needed to busy himself to calm his nerves. 

He peeked over at you and watched, mesmerized, as you kicked off your shoes and pulled down your tights from under you skirt, slowly revealing the skin of your legs in the most tantalizing way. His breathing started to come out shallow, his lips parting slightly. 

You were either stopping there or you were going to keep going. This was the point where he’d know what you wanted. And if that was how he handled himself getting a look at your legs? He probably wouldn’t be coherent if you took it further.

Tucking your tights and shoes away, you looked back at him over your shoulder. He shot his gaze away and tried to look busy with the faucets. He knew he must have had a dumb, slack-jawed look on his face.

In your head, you were even more of a wreck. You had taken off everything that could be viewed as innocent. You could stop there and spend a relaxing night speaking with Sebastian, or you could try to take him how you’ve always wanted him ever since he smirked at you in your first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

You knew he’d be a gentleman about all of this, so you’d have to make the first move in the direction you wanted to take it. The look on his face when he saw you had taken off your shoes and tights was encouraging. You glanced at him again but his focus was fully back on the faucets, not as encouraging.

You took a steadying breath, thankful the sound of the rushing water would drown it out. You mustered up every ounce of courage you had, locked the door, and turned your body so that you were facing him. This could be your only chance, it was now or never. Looking down at your shirt, you reached up and slowly began unbuttoning it. Once you got down to the button that opened your shirt enough to reveal the top of your bodice, you peeked up at him to check if he was looking.

And oh he was looking, the way he seemed to be watching you with undivided attention had the spark of a fire ignite in your core. You undid a few more buttons until you gradually stilled under the weight of his gaze, temporarily hypnotized by the way he was looking at you.

“Keep going.” He said, hypnotized himself. He could feel the blood draining from his head to go south, leaving it empty with nothing but thoughts of what more you could show him. He wanted all of you displayed before him, all to himself.

Your heartrate sped up, you hadn’t known what words you wanted to hear from him, but those were certainly an electrifying choice. You picked up where you left off and delighted in the way he kept his eyes on you. You got to the last of your buttons and slipped off your shirt, revealing your bodice and the skin of your shoulders.

He stood up straighter and faced you fully as he watched your shirt fall to the floor. Your skirt was less of a slow burn and more of a shock to his senses when it only took one undone button for it to fall as well.

He clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose like he was being tortured. It wasn’t fair, the effect you had on him. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the tub still had a ways to go filling with water, so he hoped you would help him pass the time by continuing to do what you were doing.

You kept your eyes on him, nervous, excited, and aching to show him what was under your bodice. You began undoing the buttons of your final layer. His eyes fell down to your chest, and you could see his adam's apple bob in his throat. The heat you felt in your abdomen went lower, you felt it throb in the most delicious way. That throb only swelled when you glanced down at Sebastian’s pants, his erection pressing hard against the fabric. The thought of having caused it sent a thrill through you.

When you slipped off your bodice and revealed your breasts, he made his way towards you, not allowing this space between you anymore. Keeping your eyes on him as he approached, you swiftly pulled down your underskirts. His face turned pained seeing you fully naked before him, your most sensitive area exposed to him. 

He stood before you, eyes darting all over you, not sure where they wanted to feast upon more. You didn’t mind that you were naked and Sebastian wasn’t. Those hungry looks of his had been more than enough to send you over the edge. 

As you witnessed his eyes ardently roaming over you, you reached up and began undoing his tie, the rise and fall of his chest speeding up. You slid his tie off and went for his buttons, undoing them one by one. 

It was such an intoxicating contradiction to witness, watching you take control in such a tender way. He narrowed his eyes at you as you slipped his shirt off, fingers brushing along his skin as you did so. You met his gaze and sensed he was wordlessly begging you to release his hard length from his pants. 

Your lashes curtained your eyes as you looked down to undo his belt. He dared to touch you then, his fingers grazed your hips and he dragged them lightly up the sides of your torso. He held back, because the way he wanted to grab you, he was sure he’d leave bruises. You were so soft, almost like you were the most delicate thing he had ever touched, even though he knew full well you were far from it.

You undid his pants and looked back up at him. You were still for a moment and he wondered what was going through your head. Keeping your eyes on him, you gingerly grabbed at his length. You watched with delight as he hissed a breath through his teeth and shot his gaze down to your hand on him. You stroked your thumb across his tip and he almost collapsed.

He panicked when you released him and began walking away. He watched in stunned silence as you walked down the steps into the water and then dove in. You resurfaced and swam towards the faucets, turning them all off. His pants were hanging loose on his waist, his hard length teasing out of it. 

“Are you coming in?” You asked without looking at him, continuing to turn off the remaining faucets, your nipples peeking out of the water every time you reached up.

His body finally kicked in to gear. He nearly fell over as he hopped on one foot to yank off one shoe, then switched sides, just as unsteady while taking off the other. His hands were shaky and quick pulling off his socks, he threw them to the side, not caring if he ever saw them again. Once he shoved down his pants, he joined you in the water, not nearly as graceful as you and causing much more splashing.

You giggled as you swam to meet him, pulling his face into a kiss. He treaded the water as you held him close to you, relishing the feel of your mouth on his, your breasts pressing against him. The water was slick on your skin, he was half tempted to swim back and just watch you exist, naked and dripping wet. But he didn’t want to leave this position, not yet.

Your hands slid down and rested on his freckled shoulders, reveling at his hard muscles there. He pulled back from the kiss slightly, wanting to look at your face. He cupped your jaw with one hand and dragged his thumb along your skin, watching the water droplets run down. He couldn’t believe this was happening, he had been in love with you for so long, and he had you with him like this. And in the prefects’ bathroom to top it off? If this was a dream, he’d absolutely die if he woke up.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked over your features, and you couldn’t help but smile back. Every look he gave you tonight had you melting.

“I want you to touch me.” You told him.

He was sure he was dreaming then, but he’d do everything in his power to not wake up. “I’m so glad.”

He grabbed your hand under the water and pulled you along as he swam towards the tub’s edge. He rested a hand on it to keep himself afloat. “Hold onto me.” He said. You complied, placing your hands back on his shoulders. His free hand remained under water, moving to your inner thigh, his fingers dragged up to your folds. He eyed you for your reaction, you nodded your head. The two of you looked down into the water at his hand, he ran his first finger through you, taking in the feel of it all. You dug your nails into his skin, it kept his member rock hard.

He had read books on sex before, but the boring ones. The ones with lifeless illustrations, education being the main purpose. He wasn’t completely ignorant of what was between your thighs, but he couldn’t truly know until he encountered it himself.

“Right there. Move your fingers on that spot.” Your whispered feedback had his insides reeling, and he threw out his plan to take his time feeling you. 

“How should I - what do I -” He was eager to please but he'd be lying if he said he knew how.

You put a hand over his and guided him towards the top of your slit. You moved his fingers in short, up and down, rubbing motions at a quick pace. You already knew how to get yourself off from alone time in the showers, and you were earnest to have him take your place. His rough, warm fingers would feel so much better.

“Like that.” You panted. “Keep touching me like that.”

He furrowed his brows and bit his lip in concentration, all his focus going to his fingers, he was going to get this right if it killed him.

You held onto him for support as he moved against you, your peak was approaching much faster with his fingers instead of yours. His eyes darted up and down, going up to your face and then back down to your need. 

You brought your hands up to his head and fisted his hair, he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping up his motions. You held him to you as your climax got closer and closer, wrapping one leg around his waist underneath the water. He was especially thankful being in the water then, it helped make the two of you more weightless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold this strong other wise. 

“I’m gonna - I’m -” He slammed his mouth onto yours to keep you quiet as he finished you off. Your muffled moan against his lips and your body spasming against his hand had him ravenous.

You pulled back from him to catch your breath, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. He held you close to him and rested his cheek against the top of your head. He wanted to make you feel that good all the time, wanted to be the only one who ever did.

You drifted back and put your hands on his chest. “Sit down.” You commanded, your breath still a bit uneven. You pushed him back gently through the water, towards the steps. 

“Alright.” He responded, compliant and enamored. He kept his eyes on you as he swam backwards and sat, not wanting to miss a second of you.

He took a steadying breath as you settled your knees on either side of his legs, straddling him. He exhaled sharply when you gripped his length under the water, “Now tell me how to touch you.”

His brain couldn’t process your question. He was eye level with your chest and stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, the water droplets running down you were madness inducing. He couldn’t stop himself from cupping some water into his hand and smearing it across your chest to make you glisten even more in wetness.

“Seb.” You whimpered, gripping him tighter.

His glazed eyes looked up to yours. He was delirious, there was so much of you to look at and you were touching him in a place no one else had. Getting his hand to act since his mouth couldn’t, he followed your lead and guided you on what to do. 

You wrapped your fingers around him and stroked up and down in the way he silently instructed. He leaned his elbows back on the steps and watched you, bewitched, as you fixated on his pleasure. 

You propped one hand against his chest as your other worked up and down his shaft. “A bit faster.” He groaned. “That’s...” His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Ah that’s it.” The sound of water sloshing along with your breathing echoed throughout the prefects’ bathroom, and he was nearing his peak faster than he wanted. Quickly, he leaned forward and removed your hand from him. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a slight panic, he grabbed your face and pulled you into a kiss to put you at ease.

“Nothing.” He reassured once he pulled back. He looked up at you with longing, tortured eyes and stroked your cheek. “Can I be inside you?”

Your insides set ablaze and you nodded your head. He swallowed thickly as you adjusted on top of him, positioning yourself over his length. His hands moved to your hips and he gripped tightly, looking down into the water at you two about to join.

He did everything he could to inwardly steady himself. “Right...” He breathed. “Now... When I’m about to finish, you need to uh...” Focus! He shot a hand through his wet hair quickly then placed it back on your hip. “You need to withdraw from me, alright?” 

You nodded your head, just as frantic at the anticipation as he was. “I will.”

Ignoring your jittery nerves, you took him in your hand to guide his tip to your entrance. Slowly, you sunk yourself onto him, taking your time as you felt him stretch you out to fit deeper. You felt his body stiffen under you. With a throaty groan, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his forehead against your chest. You brought your hands up to the back of his head and held him close as you both breathed through it.

He wanted to be stuck in this position forever. The feel of your heat slowly enveloping him was unreal. You whimpered as you took more of him into you. He kissed the spot between your breasts, “Go slow. Go slow.” He whispered against your skin. The words were meant for him just as much as they were you.

His eyes squeezed shut briefly when you had him fully in you.

“I - I think I’m alright now.” You said, and could feel him nod against your chest.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, and leaned back a bit to look down into the water. Catching your curious gaze at what it looked like being joined together was one of the most arousing things he had ever witnessed. 

You thought back to how he wanted your hand to move on him, so you gripped his shoulders and moved your heat up and down his length.

His hands moved down from your hips to your bottom, groping roughly. He leaned back enough so he could watch you bounce on him, quicker and quicker as you became more accustomed to the feel of him inside you.

He was becoming unhinged at it all. The feel of your heat gliding along him, the movement of your dripping wet breasts, your nails digging into his shoulders, and the sound of your panting breaths mixed with his. His climax was coming fast. 

“Ah I’m about to - Please don’t stop.” He could hardly speak, and his vision was getting blurry. He leaned forward to bite at your skin, he didn’t care where, anywhere. You arched your back at the feel of his teeth, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You withdrew yourself from him just enough to take him in your hand and he kept his hands on your ass. You stroked him fast to finish him off, but an urge to take him in your mouth took over. You broke away from his grasp and submerged your face under the water, wrapping your mouth around him. 

“W - Wait,” He breathed heavily, “What are you - o - oh...” His words melted into grunts as his head fell back and he spilled into your mouth.

When you felt he was done, you swallowed him and went back up for air. Wiping the water from your face, you saw his eyes were wide at you and he was trying to catch his breath. It was the most exhilarating sight.

He didn’t know what possessed you to put your mouth on him, but he needed to figure it out so he could ensure it possessed you next time too.

A dreamy sigh left your lips and you laid back into the water, floating contently as you looked up at the ceiling. He leaned back on his elbows and watched you, his legs too wobbly to move anywhere. It was quite the way to bring seven years at Hogwarts to a close.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Despite the lighthearted wording, there was gravity in his delivery.

You went up straight in the water to look at him. Hiding your dopey smile, you submerged yourself until it was just your eyes peeking out at him.

Getting bashful himself, he leaned forward on his knees and rubbed at his face. “Yeah, you know.” He laughed breathily. He was all too proud seeing how flushed your cheeks were and knowing he was the cause.

You swam back to him until you were standing on the steps below him. Placing your hands on his knees, you leaned forward and kissed him. You pulled back, getting a good look at all of his freckles. “I thought it was obvious I'm in love with you too.”

He pulled you back onto his lap. Gripping your thighs, he claimed your mouth with a deeper kiss. You were both tired now. He just needed this last taste of you, this last feel of your wet skin on his before you separated.

He tore himself from you and looked into your sleepy eyes with his. “Bed?” 

“Afraid so.” You sighed, getting up off his lap.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him with you out of the tub. Towels were aplenty in the prefect bathroom, and he grabbed one for you and him. As the two of you dried off, the exhaustion really kicked in. You gave each other sleepy smiles as you caught the other’s eye, trying to sneak glances as you put your uniforms back on.

He finished dressing before you did and went to help you with your last few buttons. “Stay with me in Feldcroft this summer. It’d mean the world to me if you did.” 

You met his half-lidded eyes with yours, a lazy smile on your lips. “Of course, I will.” 

He gave you one more lax kiss, then went to unlock the door. You picked up the demiguise moon and he opened the door for you.

“What in Merlin’s name?!” A younger prefect’s unwelcome voice knocked you two out of your magical haze.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and pushed you defensively behind him, keeping you hidden.

“Were you two in the prefects' bathroom? At the same time?! Don’t tell me you… in our bathroom!”

“I think you’re mistaken, we were just retrieving a demiguise statue for Mr. Moon, that’s all.” Sebastian grabbed the moon from your hand and walked up to the prefect, their height difference becoming very apparent when he came toe to toe and looked down his nose at him. 

“B - But your hair’s wet! Both of you -” 

“I’ll say it once more since it doesn’t seem like you heard me. You’re mistaken.” Sebastian repeated. “And if I hear any rumors about what you think happened, I’ll know who started them, won’t I? I only have a few weeks left here at Hogwarts, let’s see to it they go by smoothly, yeah?”

“F - Fine. Just get back to Mr. Moon straightaway and go to your dorms.”

He gave the prefect a couple solid pats on the cheek. “Attaboy.”

Grumbling, the prefect turned on his heel and left.

Sebastian returned to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and practically carrying you out of the faculty tower. “Were you trying to protect my honor back there?” You teased and could see he was biting back a cocky grin.

“I was. I could go back and scare him some more since you seem so pleased about it.”

He cackled when you smacked his arm. Sleepless nights weren’t so bad anymore.

[euphorickaeya]

THE ALMIGHTY | part 2

buwan’s notes : people seemed to really like my first fic, so I’m gonna write more about it haha hehe

summary : news spread of their creator’s behaviour to the people of Liyue, and the archons think they could scold their god for their behaviour, but the creator proves them wrong.

CW: obsession, revenge, classic signora move of taking a gnosis lols, threatening, sagau. (The dendro archon is not here lols, Nahida is granted full immunity from Reader’s wrath.)

recommended song : you should see me in a crown - billie eilish.

taglist : @emperatris-rinaka | @iyhmibyo | @nicebonescomrades

“It’s completely cruel behaviour!” Venti cried out, looking over to your throne, where you sat unwavered by Venti’s attempt to shake sense into you.

“That family’s probably suffering and you had denied them mercy! Your grace, it’s wrong!” Venti walked up to your throne, but a glare from you was enough to make him stop a few feet away.

“If you know what’s better for you, I’d say you stay right where you stand.” You hissed. Your glare redirected itself to the remaining archons in the room, all sat stiff in their respective seats, unable to look at you, for your eyes held nothing but hatred.

Even if they were archons, how could they bare such a scorning glare?

“Firstly, I thought this gathering was about my next plans as creator? not a pathetic scolding from an absent archon.” You didn’t have to pierce your spear to know you’ve hurt the anemo archon to a horrible degree.

“Second, what does it matter what I say, is this not what you wanted? A creator that ruled? I wasn’t made aware that I had to be kind, or generous,” you stood from your crystal seat, the heels of your shoes hitting the marble with ear-piercing clanks.

“I..your grace, it’s just inhumane.. only you have the power to cure any sickness from this world..” Venti suddenly cowered, even though he stood so proud just a few minutes before.

You scoffed, “please, what’s inhumane is the treatment I received upon descending on these lands.” Venti clenched his fists, refusing to take your selfish behaviour as an answer.

“Your grace, I understand your hurt and anger but you are the creator, your job-“ Venti couldn’t finish his sentence before crystals appeared paper thin right in front of his gaze. Ready to pierce, ready to kill.

“You absolute idiot. You don’t understand shit.” You spat, walking up to him, face to face, glaring into his core. “How dare you, tell me what my job is, you weren’t even anything, before I made you.” the crystals seemed to close in, making Venti hold in a breath he didn’t even know he took.

“You don’t want a creator, or a god, you want a puppet.” Your eyes glance at the sitting archons, all sporting a face of worry and tension. “You want a face so that you could do what you want.” Zhongli and Ei could hear the steps you took toward their table booming in their ears.

Loud and deafening, intimidating them to submit. “The only reason I’m sitting here is because of my gold blood,” you scoffed, seeing the archons move uncomfortably in their seats, “even then, if it wasn’t that golden colour you so desired, my head would be on display for those who “dared” to defy the creator’s will.” You slammed your hands on the table, making the archons flinch.

Ei could do nothing but gulp, her hands felt sweaty, her electro vision starting to bolt around in her hands, nervous.

“Your grace, you’re overreacting.” The tsaritsa stood, from her seat, and faced you. Challenging you, unable to take the horrible scolding you were giving them.

“Am I? Was hunting me down through teyvat, not overreacting? Was the celebratory feast of the capture of the imposter not overreacting?”You took a step towards the cryo archon, her cold glare suddenly breaking under your hardening stare back. “Was my planned execution, not overreacting?”

“You speak so much about what’s right and wrong, and have let your subjects do wrongful things in my name, yet I’m the one who’s overreacting.” You laughed, now you stood face to face with the archon, her stare somehow not wavering as she stood in front of her creator.

“Tell me, Tsaritsa, is this overreacting?” You asked, a sarcastic smile on your face, before you phased your hand through her chest, the cryo archon did not have enough time to even furrow her eyebrows in confusion before she was face to face with her own gnosis.

Suddenly, she felt the hollow interior of her body, making her gasp, shattering her cold demeanour. Her hand reached up to clutch her chest as she unwillingly wobbled, unable to come face to face with her core of power.

“I’ve given you all too much power, even as archons. Now, you think you could boss me around like a servant at your feet.” You inspected the chess piece in your palms, the cold of the cryo power radiated from said piece.

The crystalline blue glared at you straight in the face, as flurries of snow orbited it, showing anyone just how powerful a gnosis was.

“You don’t respect me, there’s not enough years of devotion under any of your belts to even come close to respecting me.” The six archons in the room now stood in fear, anxiousness of their creator.

A thud was heard, it was obvious that it was from the tsaritsa, who lost all of her strength in standing herself up, putting up a ground.

The tsaritsa could on stare at you in betrayal, in shock. How could a god she worshipped so passionately, take away their blessings so quickly?

“What can we do to have you forgive us, your grace? Say the word and we’ll do it,” the hydro archon stood up from her seat, desperation and a desire to please her god written all over her place.

A silence took over the room for a bit, you seemed like your were contemplating, even maybe taking in the hydro archon’s question, even the rest of the archons peaked their ears, trying to find out what would return their kind and generous creator back up to the surface.

It felt like days before you could answer, a laugh left your divine lips, you laughed out of mocking, of sarcasm, as the archons felt their hope slowly diminish at your heartless and emotionless laugh.

“If you think you can earn my forgiveness, you’re better off earning something else.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 16: Yes, no, maybe

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Yes, no, maybe. I don't know. Can you repeat the question?

Spencer had gotten used to hearing that song as the opening theme every Friday, from your TV. One day at work, you referred to one of your favorite sitcoms, and you were quite surprised that the young man didn’t understand what you were talking about.

It turned out that the doctor had extensive knowledge in practically all areas, but entertainment was his weak point. So when you found out he had never seen Malcolm in the Middle, you basically forced him into having weekly meetings at your house to watch all the seasons.

At first, Spencer wasn’t too thrilled, as that genre of television wasn’t his favorite, but after the first season, it turned out that he was quite enjoying the show. The sharp humor, the cleverly written plots, the chaotic and dysfunctional family... all the elements seemed to have captivated his attention.

Many times, for both health and economic reasons, you prepared food at home for dinner. But that day, you decided to treat yourselves and ordered a large pizza with a six-pack of beer for you and lemonade for your friend.

You were both comfortably settled on your couch, ready to start the next episode, when you heard Spencer speak.

“I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“About Malcolm's family”

“Hmm,” you hummed, with your mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking, and I believe Hal suffers from compulsive lying and gambling addiction, in addition to clearly seeking a mother figure in Lois. She has obsessive-compulsive disorder, needing to control everything to feel that things will go well; I’d say she’s a bit narcissistic as well, and she’s addicted to nicotine. Francis is completely impulsive, and I would even dare say he suffers from oppositional defiant disorder. Reese displays sociopathic and antisocial behaviors and has low self-esteem that he reflects through violence. Malcolm is gifted, of course, but also has antisocial and narcissistic behaviors, and is even a bit controlling and self-pitying, as if he had the worst of each of his parents. Dewey has musical genius; he’s somewhat introverted but quite sensible, and I want to think he’s the least toxic in the family. I mean, considering the family environment they’re in, they could be worse, but I couldn’t help but notice those psychological peculiarities in each character.”

Throughout the time Spencer had been speaking, you watched him attentively, and when he finished, you let out a loud laugh.

“Reid, when did you have time to think about all that?”

“This week! I started to remember, and somehow I needed to talk to you about the psychology of each family member. I think it’s very interesting; that’s why.”

“Only you could watch a show like this and come to those conclusions,” you laughed friendly.

In the background, the sound of the Wilkerson brothers fighting actively filled the room, and suddenly your friend became shy.

“But what do you think? Do you think I’m right?”

“On all points. It’s a very accurate analysis, yes,” you murmured playfully, taking a sip of your beer. “Who’s your favorite character so far?”

“I think Dewey. He seems very sweet and small… I don’t know, I think he’s a very noble and intelligent boy. Malcolm makes the mistake of letting his ego control him; otherwise, he would be my favorite.”

“Mine is Francis,” you confessed. “When I was a teenager, I was hopelessly in love with him.”

“That makes sense. I think because of your childhood experiences, you seek those chaotic situations in the opposite sex. In your partners, more specifically.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychoanalyzing me?”

“If we’re talking about psychoanalysis from a Freudian perspective, of course not. But Jung, on the other hand, had some contributions that I think are more suitable…”

“Reid,” you interrupted, placing one of your hands on his arm to get his attention. “You know I love hearing you ramble about all that, but do you really want to do such a deep analysis about this? About Malcolm in the Middle?”

It wasn’t a complaint, of course; you just sounded amused by the situation.

“You’re right; I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’ve thought so much about it.”

“That’s how the minds of geniuses work, I guess,” you joked, giving him a playful shove with your shoulder. “But now I want you to relax; let your brain shut off a little so you can enjoy silly TV situations and eat pizza like any of us mortals.”

Your friend nodded, feeling strange about all the thoughts that had arisen from something as bland as a sitcom, and he settled back into the couch, asking you for another piece of pizza. You spent the entire time laughing, eating, and drinking beside him, chatting occasionally about the show or really anything else.

Suddenly, you started to find resemblances between the characters on your TV and your colleagues in the unit, and when you dared to compare Ida, Lois’s mother, with Chief Erin Strauss, he broke into loud laughter. You rarely heard him laugh so freely, and inevitably, you felt contagious with joy, even if your joke hadn’t been that funny.

“I think she does look a bit alike,” he finally said, practically sprawled on the couch from laughter. “Especially in… you know, her particular personality.”

“Do you think you would have been in the advanced class of brainiacs that Malcolm is in?”

“Of course.”

“Show-off!” you exclaimed, teasing him for the confidence with which he had spoken while playfully shoving him.

You settled in better and pulled a blanket that was nearby so that you two could cover yourselves at least from your legs to your laps. This involved shortening the distance between you, but it didn’t bother you at all.

“I like watching TV with you,” he suddenly murmured, finishing his last piece of dinner. Spencer didn’t like the crusts of the pizza, and you always offered to eat them for him, so that night was no exception.

“I like it a lot too. It’s like… we’re getting rid of a bit of all the stress from work, right?”

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Especially if it’s with my best friend at work.”

“Am I your best friend at work?”

“Don’t get too excited. You are because I don’t have many options.”

The man let out a hearty laugh, but he took the compliment anyway. In silence, you continued watching the comedy until, at some point during the night, Spencer spoke:

“You’re also my best work friend. And that’s saying something, considering I do have more options.”

With a smile on your face, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek soundly, like a little girl would do with her preschool friend. It was innocent and sincere.

In the presence of the cold creeping under your feet, you both cuddled closer to each other (in the most respectful and friendly way possible) and continued enjoying the marathon, quite happy to at least be able to steal a couple of hours from the busy life you led.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Could you please do some comforting fic? Like, Tav is crying because of stress (or maybe a painful memory) and Astarion has to console her being an absolute emotional support vampire?

Dying Star (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Your wish is my command!

Synopsis: While exploring the Shadowlands, you run into Arabella and she asks you to find her parents. Unfortunately, you don’t have good news to deliver and Astarion tries to navigate your feelings with tips from Karlach.

Character Class- Cleric of Lliira

 (I’m really obsessed with this concept because I’m a Social Worker and I refer to myself as the “positivity police” so this is a character type I have grown fond of)

TW: Grief, Trauma, Parental loss, PTSD, Panic Attacks, mentions of violence and gore.

*I really like the nickname Little Love (I know it’s for Ascended only but…..) so I will be using it as a pet name that Astarion uses for the reader.

Companion song: Dying Star by Ashnikko (feat. Ethel Cain)

     It was supposed to be easy. You had an extra skip to your step as you headed in the direction Arabella told you her parents went. 

 Finally, you had thought, I can do something good for someone. I can reunite a family. No morally gray bullshit to navigate.

 You were grinning the whole way there despite your argument with Astarion before sending him with Arabella.

 “We don’t have time to go parent hunting.”

“There is always time to go parent hunting.”

  He had expressed his disdain about finding Arabella’s parents. He told you it’s a waste of time- they were probably dead anyway. Arabella had whimpered and teared up. That was enough for you to lose your patience and you ripped into him for saying "something so awful and in front of a CHILD, nonetheless!"

You sent him back with Arabella and Wyll, telling him that if he had no desire to search and rescue, he didn’t have to. He had looked hurt and insisted he go, that he needed to be there, but you were fed up and a little girl was crying.

Dejected, Astarion had gone back to camp. The guilt sat heavily at the bottom of your stomach, but you had a personal mission to complete and nothing was going to stop you.

  You were orphaned as a young child. The nightmares had gone away (for the most part), but you still remember your father dragging you away from your mother’s cold body as Loth Drows ambushed Silverymoon. They had had a whole army and their druids had control over giant creatures from the Underdark. You remember losing your father in the haze, an arrow to your back, running and slipping into a river. Then nothing. Until a nearby Cleric of Lliira (Leer-uh) had saved you, taking you to Selgaunt (SELL-GAUNT) on the coast of the Sea of Stars. Lliira had healed your heart and saved you- you hoped to pay that debt forward and help Arabella have a better outcome than you did. 

  No one in your party knew your past and you hadn’t brought it up to Astarion. It feels so long ago and it was a topic you preferred to bring up in a more hospitable place than the Shadowlands and after you help Astarion kill Cazador. You wanted to prioritize his joy and help him finally be free, so why would you burden him with your past while he is suffering far more from his?

 It didn’t take you and your party long to locate Arabella’s parents. You found them in the House of Healing- dead.  Along with your hope and joy. 

  You had erupted in a tearful rage and you stabbed the Sister who killed them over and over. 

  You didn’t care what the Joybringer would do if she saw how senselessly you mutilated the sisters and Malus. You had made them suffer as you saw fit. Mutilating them, using more painful methods of killing (stabbing in painful, but not lethal spots), and your crying came out as painful, angry screams. 

   Gale, Karlach, and Shadowheart eyed you with concern as you walked back to the camp. Usually you were singing or whistling a tune, cracking jokes to relieve the tension. 

Instead, you were focusing on how you would break the news to Arabella that her parents are dead and she is all alone. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

   Astarion paces around his tent, trying to distract himself from the pit of fear in his stomach. You had never snapped at him that way- usually you just roll your eyes at him and give him a chaste kiss with a soft, “I understand if you don’t want to go, but I would appreciate it if you would come along.” 

He wasn’t sure why Arabella and her parents had been a sensitive subject or why you had insisted on looking for them when they were likely already dead. No one survives the Shadow Cursed Lands without a light source and mediocre tactical skills.

That didn’t stop him from rooting for you though- he hopes he is wrong and that you come back victorious. He wants you to be happy. Astarion enjoys seeing you succeed because that’s when you flash that brilliant grin that he has (silently) adored since the moment he met you. The reason he protested in the first place is because he knows how destroyed you would be if Arabella’s parents are dead. He doesn’t want you to hurt- for your heart to lose it’s optimism. 

 He hears you, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale come into camp. He steps out of the tent- hoping that you were able to achieve the outcome you wanted, that you would come parading into camp victorious.

He sees you talking to Arabella in a quiet whisper and he watches as your face contorts to hold back your own feelings as Arabella screams at you. He watches you take it- as she punches you in the stomach over and over. You just let her before she runs off. Withers says something to you quietly before you walk into your tent, closing yourself off from everyone.

 Astarion feels stuck in the entryway of his tent. He doesn’t know what to do.

 “Hey fangs,” Karlach says, offering a sad smile as she walks up to him, “you should probably know- they went over the rails after seeing Arabella’s parents.”

A look of confusion spreads across his face. What does that even mean? You were barely capable of hurting a fly!

 “Like they became upset?”

  Karlach nods with weary eyes,“They became upset and… well very, very, very violent.”

    The tadpole behind his eyes begins to squirm as he allows Karlach to show him the scene.

He didn’t think you were capable of that much destruction.  He saw angry tears slide down your face as you destroyed everything in your path. His gentle, joyful Cleric had broken in the House of Healing.

How ironic, he thinks bitterly.

He feels his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he watches you suffer through the battle- screaming and crying. He should have been there for you. He should have gone and let you be mad at him for disobeying. He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“She really needs you Fangs,” Karlach says to him, interrupting his train of thought.

Of course Karlach would say that as if it was the easiest thing in the world- like he hadn't been tortured and unloved for the past two centuries.

“I don’t know how to be what she needs right now,” he says in a soft voice.

It was true. He had only just expressed his feelings for you and he barely felt confident doing that to begin with. He spent two centuries seducing and manipulating whoever he could to survive. How could he be what you need right now? When he is just as much of a monster as the individuals that killed Arabella’s parents?

  Karlach contemplates this, searching Astarion’s face as if the answer to all his problems would be there. 

  “You don’t need to do anything other than being there- tell them you are sorry. Tell them you were rooting for them because I saw it in your head. Tell them that they aren't alone,” Karlach pauses before saying, “And remind them that they are a good person- that Lliira wouldn’t abandon her in her suffering.”

Despite his fear and reluctance, he thanks Karlach for the advice and walks towards your tent. 

   ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

    Your body is shaking violently as your chest tightens and painful, silent sobs come out of your mouth. You are trying (and failing) to use your hand as a sound barrier.

It’s not about you, it’s about Arabella, you remind yourself, stop being so selfish. 

Except the images are back, you are small again, helpless again, alone, and afraid. Despite your effort, Arabella has been given the same fate and in the same breath, you turned away from your Goddess. You lost yourself in the fight, you were aware of this while it was happening. You just didn’t have it in you to care anymore. 

You hear footsteps approach your tent- you do the best to rub away the tears and snot.

 It’s not about you. 

You hear Astarion’s voice on the other side of the tent flap. 

 “Little love,” he says softly, “can I please come in?”

You laugh, your voice hoarse, “Come to tell me ‘I told you so?’ To gloat and laugh? If that is your intention, then no. You will need to wait one to five business days before you can do that.”

   You don’t hear him laugh at your humorous response as he usually does. He enters the tent and you feel him sit down behind you, his legs on either side of yours. He’s tense as he puts his arms around you from behind, pulling you in between his legs. He slowly relaxes against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck. 

 “I’m sorry Little Love. I wanted to be wrong. I just knew how much it would… hurt you if the outcome wasn’t… well.”

 You sniff, choking back a sob as he begins drawing shapes on the back of your shaking hands. 

“It’s okay my love. You can let it out. I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.”

 Despite how clumsy and awkward it was said, that sentence alone broke whatever composure you still had. You cry and scream into your hand as Astarion holds onto you as if you are about to fly away and he is your anchor. Your breath is shallow and it’s hard to breathe as you suffocate on your grief and panic. You feel him ask for access to your mind, wanting to know how to help. So, you show him and you let all your grief pour into your cries. You feel his own tear mix with yours as he cries into your neck as he endures how you feel with you- as he watches your whole life fall apart because of one ambush over and over again.  

  He continues to trace patterns on your hands, asking you to focus on him and what he is doing, reminding you to breathe as you do for him when he is distressed.

  You begin to calm as you focus on his voice, focus on his delicate fingers tracing your skin, and for once, you don’t feel so alone. You scoot forward, gently removing his arms , and turn around to face him, your tearful eyes meeting his.

He grabs your face gently and kisses your forehead as silent tears roll down both of your faces. You look down at your hands before speaking.

“I thought… I thought I could help Arabella be reunited with her family,” you say in a gravely whisper, “I had hoped she wouldn’t be alone like I was, but now…”

  You suck in a harsh breath and look at your hands, “Gods, I am naive and stupid.”

 “No- you do not get to talk about my favorite person that way,” Astarion says sharply.

 You look up in surprise at the intensity of his words. He matches your eyes with a look of adoration, guilt, and a ferocity you have never seen before.

 “Little Love, you are not naive and you are not stupid,” He pauses, to kiss one of your hands and intertwines your fingers together, “you are so good without trying because that is who you are. You experienced hardship and you didn’t let it destroy you. You didn’t become a monster.”

 He looks at your face to gauge your reaction. You sit quietly, letting him continue to speak if he chooses so he does.

 “You… you are amazing and a bright light in the darkness. You are my moon, my compass, and you have shown me parts of myself I didn’t know existed,” he clears his throat before continuing.

 “ I hate to see you hurt, but I promise I will be here to help you through your suffering,” He stares into your eyes intensely, “for as long as you will have me.” 

  You pause, taking in everything he has just said to you. You felt like a star dying, exploding in the cosmos. You feel evil and wrong for the violence you inflicted on the Sisters and Malus in your need for revenge. Your actions were not of Lliira's will.

 “I don’t know if that’s who I am anymore, Star. I engaged in senseless violence… I don’t think Lliira will forgive me- and if she does, it won’t be easy to obtain her forgiveness,” you say glumly. 

 He grabs your other hand in his and offers a soft smile. 

“Then we will work together to get you back into favor with your Goddess and I will remind you everyday who you are until you believe in yourself again,” he says before leaving a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smile despite yourself, your chest glowing with warmth as you stare into his eyes. You know Astarion detests the Gods, but the fact that he was willing to help you made your eyes tear up again. You are horribly desperately in love with him and as much as you want to tell him that, you practice restraint. There is a time and place- that time is not now, not when the relationship just began.

 “And what if I need it everyday for the rest of your Immortal life?” You say half-joking and half-afraid of his answer.

 A wide, genuine grin spreads across Astarion’s face as your words register in his mind. 

They want me to stay. They want me to be by their side-even when this is all done.

    Astarion pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he pulls you into him and presses a soft kiss against your neck before laying his head on your shoulder. 

“Then I will stay by your side. Forever.”

[m00ri]

HAVE A FUN READ AND ENJOU, SORRY FOR THE KISSING THEME AGAIN IM SO TIRED AND I DONT CARE IT'S SHOWTIME!

Yandere Trickster x gn reader

Warning; yandere and obssesive behavious, blood and again stabby stab stab.

"Sing for me Songbird."

The fog tinkered with your memories, leaving nothing behind but your name.  It probably wanted to make sure you focused on the pain and suffering that will come with every trial you will be forced to participate in.

The realm was harsh, cold and dark. It was a torture, but even there you found something that kept you sane. It was a song, or at least a melody. It has been stuck in your head ever since you got here. Not even that damn entity knew how to get rid of it. Your stiff from cold fingers fumble with the generator. You were humming the oh so familiar tune. It kept you sane, helped you calm down and you didn’t even know the words or the whole song. Just the same old tune, humming it like a broken record. Oh if you only knew, that not only this tune but also your pretty raw screaming was a music to his ears. Every match he waited for you. Every single one. You have no idea how much disappointment he had to endure when you weren’t there. His muse, his songbird. He just can’t wait to hear you make those sweet sounds, or to see the sweet crimson seep out of your stab wounds. It was beautiful, just like you. His only problem was that you didn’t even pay attention to him outside of those trials. You wound him. You should be honored, he gives you his time of the day, why can’t he get yours? The Ormond was cold, frosty grass crunching under your feet. The freezing hurt your tongue and throat. Painful but refreshing even if there was a light scent of smoke. The horn of the generator pulled you out of your thoughts, white lights signaling it was done. You smiled proudly, ready to get up and head to another one. Rubbing your hands you tried to give them so warmth. No heartbeat, no rising adrenaline, no killer. You breath on your hands, a light puff of white could appear. 

A scream echoed through the still air, your heart sank. With lips trembling you found yourself humming. You silently backed away from the generator.

Everything was going good, why now? Your heart started to race, anxiety creeping in. Head pounding with stress but you kept humming. Then a knife flew next to you, screaming loudly and you turned around to see the sinister smile of the famous trickster. You couldn’t run, this time fear made you stop dead in your tracks. “Oh my, a fan I see? How charming, how about an autograph hm?” He got closer, your face twisting in fear and confusion as you tried to force your body to move as far away as you physically could.

“Oh how lovely you hum, and the screams! My, the screams! I could say I’m obsessed.” Your back was met with one of the walls. Face twisted, in silent terror as the man got closer. You hated the trickster, he loved to torture you, you didn’t even want to know what he got planned for you this time. “Oh we are going to have so much fun this time, and don’t bother screaming. You are the last one.” He pinned you to the wall, his warm breath fanning across your face. He was so close, too close. You tried to shrink yourself, to be as small as you could to escape. His face drew in closer, the coldness of the air didn’t bother you anymore, in fact you swear the weather shifted and you felt hot and then his lips touched yours. The kiss felt long, passionate and sweet with a coppery after taste as he drew away.

“Now sing for me, Songbird” White pain blossomed in your stomach and you soon found out why you tasted copper. Trickster had stabbed you, slowly making the cut deeper.

You felt your warm blood drip from your mouth and you could help but grant his wish. You screamed with all the energy you had left.

[sancrevm]

enhypen: jay, jake, sunghoon and niki as boyfriends

song recommendation: bite me by enhypen

jay

the most boyfriendish boyfriend to exist.

he’s always there for you, whether that be you’re having a sad day and just require his presence or if something exciting has happened and you wish to tell him all about it, here’s there to listen.

of course he cooks for you, he craves your joyous reactions to whatever he makes and he goes out of his way to present the food as a restaurant would just to see the smile light up on your face.

he’s the type to enact pda more so when he gets even the slightest bit jealous. another boy looks at you a little too long when you’re shopping? an automatic death glare and a hand on your waist. he sees another boy smile at you? he kisses you in plain sight before he leads you away.

he’ll pay attention to the little details you mention in conversations and bring them up later. your heart always warms with the implication that he actually listens to you, even if you’re just rambling half the time.

jake

a perfect example of a boyfriend.

this boy is so in love with you he feels like he can’t even breathe when he’s near you. he’s always messaging the group chat with the rest of the members when he’s with you, either incoherent ramblings or just full on paragraphs about why he loves you so much. the rest of enhypen have learned to ignore it though.

you best bet if the two of you have an unscheduled day, he will not let you leave his presence. what was once an early morning turned into a late lie in because he snuggled up to you, not allowing you to escape his bear hug. a movie night turned into you and him falling asleep on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist while the unwatched movie played in the background.

he tends to play fight with you. if the two of you are on his bed, he’ll just start wrestling with you simply because he loves the laughter you let out. after it, he’ll have your hands pinned to the bed and he’ll bend down to kiss you.

sunghoon

despite being such a tease, he’s seriously a good boyfriend to you.

he’s the perfect example of someone who taunts their partner because they love to see how riled up they get. he’s always pulling small pranks on you or just downright teasing you because he loves the reactions you pull. he would always end it with an “i’m just teasing” and pull you in for a hug.

he’s so attentive with little details. if you’re in a restaurant and sharing food, he’ll always give you more of what you love to eat. he’ll always lead you by the hand if the two of you are out in public, as well as always having his hand on your body if you’re say waiting at traffic lights.

again he just executes boyfriend acts all the time. he’s always the type to offer his coat if you’re too cold, he would rather suffer from the chill himself than witness you shivering. when out on a picnic date, he’ll let you use him as a pillow when you snuggle up to him, even if he has nothing to rest his head on himself. he’ll always put you first.

niki

even if it’s niki’s first relationship, he sure as hell knows how well to treat you.

he’ll always and i mean always give you his hoodies to wear. at this point, you have more of his hoodies hung in your wardrobe than he does. he loves seeing how big they are on you; he’s just obsessed with seeing you wear one of his possessions and knowing you probably sleep all enveloped in one, his heart can’t take it.

he has a dedicated playlist for when you come over. whenever a love song plays that just gets his heart beating, he’ll look over to you and smile, as if he’s relating the lyrics to your relationship. overall, he has to remind himself that you’re not just a dream and that he actually has you as a partner.

he’s learning to be a better boyfriend as he’s going, but his acts are just so natural sometimes. for instance: he’ll always insist you message him when you get home straight away. if you’re faced away from him when lying in bed, he’ll roll over and wrap his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek and neck while he asks what’s wrong. and lastly, he’ll have the cutest nicknames for you, he probably has a new one stored every week.

[perfectwitchcrown]

Ekuoto 81 thoughts

Spoilers below! CWs: references to abuse, suicidal ideation/suicide

Before this week's chapter I had been wondering how we might see the Dante and Vergilius fight resolve since Dante had so clearly expressed that this was the end of the line chapters ago and Bel had just been defeated, but I somehow did not expect this to be what happened… :’)

Tbh I think he’s going to live if only bc I think that there was a reason we were shown that Vergilius has healing powers when he kissed Charlotte chapters ago. Maybe this is just cope tho lmao. On the other hand, I’d be really interested to see Priest’s (and Barbara and Leah, who were in France with Dante) reaction to Dante being dead so I’m torn lol.

I think it's interesting how often Dante's advice to fall in love from the first chapter has come up in the series, and how tonally different Priest vs Dante treat that moment in this chapter. Dante sort of broods on it and considers it a curse he's left on Priest, whereas Priest kind of brushes it off to Imuri as uncool advice from an unreliable adult. On the other hand, I think it’s super interesting that Priest seems to consider the hug Dante gave him as having saved his life as a child. In chapter three, when Priest saves the children in the aquarium, he similarly gives them a hug.

I’m sure a lot of it has to do w most of his experience with adults throughout his life involved physical pain (the abuse he suffered from his father, the abuse he suffered from the church, etc) so like I am sure positive physical contact was not something he really experienced. But also, this moment in the first chapter comes after Priest breaks down about how hard he finds living--outside of Bel, who Priest had forgotten about at this point, Dante was likely one of the first adults that actually listened to his cry for help as a child and saw his idealization of religious martyrdom that was really, at its core, suicidal ideation.

Dante’s whole thing about being tired of chasing Vergilius is interesting too. It uses the same language as when he spoke of his failure to chase after Vergilius in chapter 20. Vergilius naming himself Vergilius is also such a "come follow me" move since Virgil was Dante’s guide in Inferno. Interested to see how this shift in the dynamic affects Vergilius.

Also excited to see what happens w Marco next chapter. His relationship w Priest seems fascinating to me bc it’s kinda hard to tell what level of distance they have from each other. Marco completely idolizes him, and it’s also been mentioned that he was present at the previous offscreen exorcism of Mammon prior to the start of the series, and he’s also visible in a flashback panel to that exorcism. They've known each other for like three years then so it's kind of interesting how obsessive Marco is and how little he actually knows about Priest as a person for having known him for all that time.

Even in the first chapter we're shown that Marco's understanding of Priest is completely misguided, where he assumes Priest's studying the bible when he's actually reading poetry by Goethe and Song of Songs (the second of which is in the bible, but the unifying theme between the works he's reading is romantic love. Also, this is the dorkiest form of romantic texts for him to be interested in LMAO).

Also can’t wait to see what goes down w Leah Barbara and the others. While Marco looks pissed, Leah looks more worried than anything else, and Mikhail looks sort of solemn. Daniel sort of has resting bitch face so idk what’s going through his mind. Last we saw of them all, Leah and Barbara very much dodged mentioning that Imuri is a demon and said to focus on fighting the witches first. Now that they’ve clearly finished with that, I wonder if they’ve told the rest or if they’re still hiding it. Either way Marco would be pissed since Priest did work with Bel.

Anyways, what a chapter, I'm so excited to see what happens next chapter. If Imuri and Priest have to be on the run from the church for awhile I wonder if Imuri's friend Cass from the file extras might finally make an appearance...