#Tried perspective and lighting w this one

[h0dge-p0dge]

She makes me feel things

[lemongogo]

i need 2 stop drawing static stuff . white bg . front facing pose. <will do it again

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

(last one i promise) (SORRY FOR ALL THE ASKS) for felix!! how did you come to see catarina as a sister ?? whats your favorite thing to do together when theres free time ??

(IT’S ALRIGHT, ANYONE CAN ALWAYS SEND AS MANY ASKS AS THEY WOULD LIKE TO!)

Felix: “Taking some time off from your usual expeditions, are we? Well, it’s good to see you in good spirits.

To answer your first question, that.. took a bit of time. You know what I was like back at the academy, after all. I didn’t actually get to meet Catarina until partway through the year, since it was only then that we ended up in the same house, but.. I’ll admit she caught my attention pretty quickly. She’s never trained as often as me, but we ended up arranging to spar together a lot, and that’s really how things got started. I’d say we have quite similar ways of fighting, so that common ground helped us to build up a connection, and then.. we started talking about other things than training, somehow. I suppose it was just- refreshing, to have someone around who had such an outside perspective. She may have roots in Faerghus, but the fact she wasn’t raised there, or raised to uphold the same typical values the Kingdom prides itself on - or even anywhere else in Fódlan - meant that.. there’s a lot I felt I could talk to her about, in a way I just couldn’t with others. Also, she wouldn’t hesitate to give me a piece of her mind, or say what she thought about things. Not many others were like that, so it stuck out to me.

By the end of the year, it didn’t feel like we had developed the same dynamic I have with my friends - and I wouldn’t necessarily say it was any worse or better, it’s just.. there was something different about it. Maybe it’s because it was just something shared between the two of us, not a piece of a larger group setting. A closeness that almost seemed more natural, or permanent, than just friendship, even despite the much shorter time we’d actually known each other. What I mean by that is that.. Rina and I can talk about anything, and it’d never feel like what we had could just suddenly fall apart, no matter what we actually said to each other. In fact, I don’t know if we’ve ever fallen out in a serious way; we may bicker a lot over little things, but it’s always more playful than anything else - never as tense or able to suddenly escalate as it could be with others. So, that’s.. really where the whole “sister” thing started.

Oh, and for your second question - we still train together, a lot. Catarina prides herself on being a difficult opponent to strike, and I’m very familiar with that by this point, but it doesn’t make it that much easier to get a hit in on her. Sometimes it can feel like I’m fighting a mirage of myself when she’s more on the offensive, which.. is a strange feeling, but I think it’s good. She also keeps trying to help me with the magic side of things, which usually results in her taking a pile of books out of the library and dragging me somewhere to go read them with her until one of us gets bored. ..I’ll admit that seeing her own spellcraft in action has helped me gain a greater appreciation of magic than I used to have, but I’m still not close to her own proficiency. Then again, I know I’d overpower her if she wasn’t using magic, so me having greater physical strength can still be more useful than her balanced and more agile style. And, the magic I do know how to cast is already far above what most swordsmen could use or expect from me, so I still have the edge in most combat situations, even without being an expert.

I.. hope that all of this answers your questions. Feel free to stop by again if you want to ask more.”

[unproduciblesmackdown]

that moment when: everyone's lives are restricted and constricted and these imposed consequences are attributed to anyone's continual individual failures to seek, find, and follow the Correct Path through Life, and so everyone is left on their own to only be seeking & finding these failures as well as the only answer to how their lives can be better....versus Not seeing the world as the free marketplace meritocracy of everyone's personal failures/successes, nor everything in your own life, and thus not forever having to scrutinize Where You Must Be Bringing It Upon Yourself by fucking up or at least failing to do the correct thing, and exist only in perpetual punishment for your ongoing failure and occasional temporary reprieves from it. recognizing everything that wasn't & isn't & wouldn't be [this is because you're bringing it upon yourself] and thus having more capacity & capability to look at the realm of your personal individual self, reality, experiences, life through the perpetual instances of seeking, finding, and following your own needs/wants through one's inherent personhood and exercises of autonomy and recognition of where & when & how one recognizes moments of their existing freely & in more resonant genuine alignment with themself, you know? endless examples to be found in endless fractals of [where & how are people's lives made smaller]. and that of course this doesn't preclude the ability/option at any time to question one's choices, since you'll be able to find more Actual choices available to you (and, also crucially, find more actual choices made by others that are in the pursuit of limiting Yours) to look at, and people getting to exercise their autonomy isn't the same as "everyone doing anything they want regardless of how it affects others" since that [how does it affect others?] element instead being Regarded would be able to lead to recognizing that, in fact, an effect might be the infringement on others' autonomy, hence: There's A Problem....like the ability to just go ham with [questioning???] anything in existence, certainly including oneself, b/c the "norm" is such that rather you're only supposed to be able to question yourself for your failings (or those positioned as less than, thus, beneath you) and not even have the language to express a questioning of aspects of life beyond that b/c stop calling anyone "cis" they're just Normal, Just Be Normal and it would all be fine

[ange1heavensent]

Walk You Home

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Pairing: college!Abby x fem!reader

Content Warning: vomiting

w/c: ≈ 1800

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The air was stuffy as you walked through the living room, which was now transformed into a dance floor. People were bumping into you, but it did not matter, all you needed was to pee, which was not surprising after the amount of drinks, shots and sips from other peoples beer you’ve consumed. It was your third, maybe fourth?, trip to the bathroom, but this time your friend did not accompany you, because of some conversation with a guy, who was speaking alarmingly close to her face. As you trudged to the sea of people, you found your light at the end of the tunnel, the bathroom door. Luckily or, unluckily, for you there was only one person standing in line in front of the bathroom door.  

-

Abby breathed out a sigh as she stood leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom door, she had stood there for what felt like an eternity, for what was supposed to be a quick trip to the bathroom before leaving the house party. The fucker that was taking their sweet time on the toilet was going to get an earful, for making her stay in what she would call hell on earth for even a second longer. She wasn’t the biggest fan of house parties, the reason being the people, drunk frat guys and sorority girls slobbering on each other in every corner, people half passed out on the couch, way too early into the night and people not being able to behave in general. She much more preferred sitting with her friends around a table at a bar, rather than screaming in each other's ears over awful music.  

As she was leaning her head against the wall behind her, contemplating walking out, lose her last ounce of dignity and just pee behind the nearest bush. She felt someone grab on to her hands. She looked at you, a little bewildered, before you slurred out, “Hi, I'm so sorry, but can I please go to the toilet before you, please” You squeezed her hands to accentuate the urgency. Abby looked into your pleading eyes and released a sigh, she would be an asshole to say no to you, but she did herself also need to pee. You saw the reluctance on her face and added “I really really need to go to the toilet, I am going piss myself any second, please.” You said this with a chuckle, because of the absurdity of the situation, practically begging some stranger to let you cut in line to the toilet. Abby herself let out a chuckle and noticed that you hadn’t let go of her hands, she sighed out an “okay” you gave her hands another squeeze, smiled big and said a “thank you” in return. 

Abby didn’t know why she had said yes, however if she were to be honest, it was because you looked so goddamn beautiful, your eyes, your smile and especially how good you looked in that little black dress you were wearing. She was already missing your soft hands in hers, as you released your grip, turned around and walked, more like stumbled, to the bathroom door and knocking your fist on it. You yelled out a “Can you please hurry up!” before retreating to stand in front of the opposite wall facing Abby, with your arms crossed over your chest, mimicking Abby’s stance. 

You looked at her smiling and couldn’t help but to blush, Abby noticed and smiled back at you. If the situation wasn’t dire, you would have tried to flirt with her, start to compliment her outfit, then her hair, her eyes and of course her muscles. But now all you could do was focus on not peeing yourself in front of her. The flirting could wait. 

-

Abby saw your demeanour change from giving her flirty glances and smiles to a serious expression, eyebrows knitting together and heavy breathing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, you muttered “I think I’m gonna throw up.” Abby sprung into action, making her way across the small hallway, her fist knocking hard against the wood, from your perspective it looked like she was going to punch a hole through the door. She yelled “Hey, you better come out, someone needs to throw up” and continued her banging on the door. It only took seconds before the door unlocked and a couple clumsily walking out of it. You sprinted to the toilet, got down on your knees, and vomited into the toilet bowl. Abby was immediately behind you, after closing and locking the door, and grabbed your hair and held it. After a couple of minutes, you laid your head on your arm against the toilet seat. Abby stroked your back, which she had done through all of it, and asked softly “Are you okay?” with a weak “yeah” you answered her. Abby helped you to stand up, you walked to the sink to rinse your mouth as she flushed the toilet. 

“Is it alright if I pee?” Abby said, making sure that you're okay with her going first. “Yes, of course,” you said while trying to remove the mascara smudges under your eyes and Abby was a little surprised that you didn’t leave the bathroom. When Abby was finished, flushed the toilet and took a stand beside you to wash her hands, you yourself went to relieve your bladder. “Do you want me to get you an Uber or something?” Abby asked you when you were sitting on the toilet, she of course didn’t look in your direction. “No, I don’t want to risk throwing up in someone's car,” you answered. “Do you live far away from here?” Abby asked, “kinda” you answered, “How long of a walk?” “45 minutes maybe” you answered her. You were now by the sink washing your hands, with Abby standing beside you. “Let me walk you home then.” Abby said with a smile. “You don’t have to do that,” you told her, but she retaliated with “How will you get home then?” You just shrugged your shoulders, she continued with “I really don't mind, I promise. I just want to make sure you’re getting home safe.” “You sure you don't mind?” you questioned, “I am sure” Abby said with a smile. 

- 

The two of you now stood outside of the house, after retrieving your jackets from a small bedroom where they laid in a pile on the bed, and then having to elbow your way out of the house. You had just sent a text to your friend saying that you were going home and were now typing in your address into Abby’s phone. When you were done Abby looked at her phone and then started walking the route that her phone told her to go. You had your arm wrapped around her bicep for stability, no other reason. The two of you had made it a couple of metres before you looked at her and said “You're walking me home, but I don’t even know your name” Abby chuckled, when she realised that in all of the chaos of the night the two of you hadn’t mentioned your names. Abby put away her phone and reached out with her right hand inviting you to shake her hand, “I’m Abby, nice to meet you” she said with a smile, you giggled at her antics finding her very cute at the moment, before you released your grip on her bicep and shook her hand “It’s very nice to meet you Abby, I’m Y/n.” You mirrored the smile on her face, which you couldn’t get rid of even if you tried to. 

For the rest of your 45 minute walk you and Abby talked about anything that came up in your inebriated mind. First the basics, like what the two of you were studying, your respective future careers, hobbies and what not. Abby was just enabling your continued drunken thoughts and questions about her. She found you quite amusing in the way you rambled about different topics. She also found you charming in the way you manage to slip in some flirty remarks about her, while still slurring on your words. As the walk continued however, your words became more clear and you regained your balance and towards the end of it you started to feel fine, having sobered up in the cool air of the night. 

At the end of your route, the two of you stood outside the entrance to your dorm building. Either of you wanting the night to end. You went to hug Abby, which she reciprocated opening up her big arms which you then became enveloped in, while in the hug you asked her “How are you getting yourself home, Abby?” “I’ll just get an Uber,” she answered. You nodded at her as you stepped out of the hug, holding onto her hands, the two of you in the same position which you had started the night. “You could come up to my room, while waiting for it,” you suggested, while lightly swinging her hands and gleaming at her. She let out a chuckle, but her facial expression turned sincere, she softly said “I don't think that's a good idea.” You took a small step back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed you were-” you started, but she cut you off, “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just don’t think we should, given the state you're in,” she said genuinely. 

You gave her a smile, and went in for a second hug, which she again reciprocated, you again spoke in the hug “Let me give you my number, so I can make sure you get home safe.” Abby looked at you and plastered on your face was a smirk. “Of course,” she answered, handing over her phone, she wasn’t going to let something like this just pass her by. When you were finished typing your phone number into her phone, you handed it back and said “I’ll see you around then.” Before walking off, you pressed a kiss onto Abby’s cheek and then all she saw was the back of you making your way to the door. She quickly saved your number as a contact, before turning back to look at you. You were now turned towards her at the entrance door and you gave her a little wave, she waved back and you stepped through the door and let it close behind you. Abby smiled to herself when she booked the Uber.

- 

When you woke up the next morning with a dry mouth and a headache, you tapped the screen of your phone and saw a new text message.

+1 (564) 000-0000

Made it home safe :) Let’s grab a coffee sometime - Abby

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Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[lixiepixiedust]

hurt people hurt people

pairing — idolbf!felix x f!reader; established relationship

word count — 3.4k words

warnings — she/her reader, hurt/comfort, argument between reader and felix, angst, fluff, happy ending, cursing, felix just wants to hold someone again, members are kind of mean but i promise it's not targeted against them :(

summary — after his experiences, he learnt one thing. they'll only like him better if he's not himself. he thought you were one of them so he acted different around you too, but really, he just ended up hurting you how he was hurt.

Felix has always been known to be the most cuddly member in Stray Kids. Taking the opportunity whenever he could, he would leap onto his fellow members, catching them off guard while they were busy with something. However, it was no secret that, more often than not, these moments were mostly for his own comfort.

Despite his genuine intentions, there were times when some of his members found it hard to reciprocate the clinginess. During down times, they preferred to be alone to gather their thoughts, yet Felix always found comfort in hugs to help.

"You've got to ease up a bit, Felix. Clinging to people like glue is starting to become annoying," one of his members once told him.

After this conversation, it seemed like the rest of the members started gaining the confidence to express their feelings about Felix's behaviour, resulting them to distance themselves whenever he tried to initiate contact. Although Felix understood their perspective, it still stung. All the times they hugged him back or told him he made them feel better with his cuddles. It was like everything was insincere. 

Felix decided to change. He never did anything more than a high five, and during late-night drives from shows, he tried his best not to fall asleep on his members to avoid annoying them. Gradually, he noticed a change in his members' behaviour—they began liking him more, including him in conversations without the need for him to include himself.

Feeling a sense of inclusion, Felix decided that was how it should stay. He realized that keeping it this way could make people like him more. And just like that, he became the least cuddly member.

When you came into his life, he was met with an exact copy of his old self. Whenever he was on a call or doing work, you always found the need to pounce onto him and nestle yourself into him. He has gotten used to not having to be affectionate his people so it was weird to see someone who actually initiated contact first for once. This led him to being slightly distant from you.

"Felix!" you called from the bathroom.

"Yea? You okay?" he responded from the bedroom nearby.

"Could you grab me a towel?" you requested.

You heard him rise from the bed, making his way to the closet for a bath towel. As he approached, you shivered in the cold air, a stark contrast to the warm shower you had just enjoyed. He extended the towel toward you, his attention fully focused on the phone in his hand.

"Thanks, Lix," you said, offering a smile.

"Yeah," he replied, still glancing away.

After Felix headed to the room first, claiming his usual spot on the bed, you decided to indulge in your nighttime skincare routine. The soft glow from the bathroom light illuminated your face as you moisturized, then moved to the dresser to brush your hair. With your hair now smooth and untangled, you turned off the bathroom light and left the bathroom.

As you made your way to the bed, you noticed Felix lying there, scrolling through his phone. Quietly, you leaned over and switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Felix, still buried in his phone, didn't notice your approach until you leaped onto the bed and sprawled out beside him. You propped yourself up on your elbow, peeking at his screen with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Whatcha doin'?" you inquired, your voice playful.

Felix, startled by your sudden intrusion, glanced at you and smiled. "Just some stuff for work. What's up?"

You scooted closer, ignoring the amused yet puzzled look he gave you. "Nothing much. Just wondering why my boyfriend is so engrossed in his phone when he has someone as interesting as me right here."

"You're always interesting, Y/n. I just got caught up in some messages."

You grinned, appreciating his response. "Fair enough. But you know, you can put that down for a while." With that, you snatched his phone, earning a gasp from Felix.

"Hey!" He took it back from you.

You chuckled and leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just did my skincare, and my skin is feeling so soft. Wanna feel?"

Felix raised an eyebrow, fake disgust on his face. "Do I?" he repeated, his tone teasing.

You reached for his hand and guided it to your cheek. "Feel it. I used that fancy moisturizer you got me."

Felix hesitated for a moment, then ran his fingers over your skin. "Hmm, not bad," he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Despite Felix's initial engagement in your conversation, you felt him subtly shifting his attention back to his phone. However, this time, instead of feeling a sense of rejection, you decided to playfully address it.

"Alright, Mr. Busy, I see how it is," you rolled your eyes.

Felix looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, babe. Emails keep coming in."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. I know your phone is practically glued to your hand. Do you even love me anymore?" you said dramatically.

"Of course I love you." His eyes swiftly looked at you then back at his phone.

You grinned, satisfied with his response. "Good, because I happen to love you too, even if you always act like your scared of me or something whenever I touch you."

Felix's expression shifted slightly, and you couldn't help but notice a hint of hurt in his eyes as they slowly gazed at you. It dawned on you that your playful remark might have struck a chord. You quickly backtracked, realizing that your attempt at humor might have unintentionally crossed a line.

"Well, not that it's bad or anything" you spoke quickly.

The room fell into an awkward silence, and you could feel the tension lingering in the air. Desperate to diffuse the situation, you attempted to switch the topic, rambling on about the colors gold and silver and how they complemented Felix's style.

You reach out to the necklace and fiddle with it between your fingers. "Oh by the way, Felix, I was thinking, do you think gold or silver looks better on you? I mean, you always wear those silver earrings, but gold has this warm tone that might suit you too. Not that silver doesn't look amazing, it does, but have you ever tried gold?"

Your words seemed to hang in the air, met with only silence from Felix. He kept his gaze fixed on the phone, fingers tapping away, seemingly lost in the messages or emails that occupied his attention.

"Or maybe a combination of both could work? Like, a subtle mix of gold and silver accessories. You know, they say mixing metals is a fashion statement. What do you think? Felix?"

Again, no response. Your attempt at a one-sided conversation continued, the one-sidedness becoming increasingly apparent.

"I mean, you always look good in anything, so I guess it doesn't really matter. But it's just a thought, you know? I was just thinking about how your style could evolve. Not that it needs to change! You're perfect just the way you are, but you know, I just thought..."

"Y/n, can you stop?" Felix's voice cut through the silence, and you lifted your head from his chest to meet his gaze. 

Confusion etched across your face as you asked, "What?"

Felix looked at you, his expression a mix of frustration and contemplation. For a moment, he hesitated, as if debating whether to voice the thoughts that lingered in his mind. Finally, he spoke, "This... all of this. Can't we just have a quiet moment without you sticking to me or talking this much?"

Your brows furrowed, caught off guard by his sudden request. "Is this because of what I said? If it was I'm sorry."

Felix's eyes flickered with a mixture of annoyance and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "It's not just about what you said. It's about the constant need for attention. I can't even have a moment to myself without you clinging onto me."

You recoiled slightly, hurt evident in your eyes. "I just wanted to spend time with you."

"You're suffocating me," he retorted, his tone sharper than before.

"Suffocating? Felix, we're in a relationship. Couples spend time together. I thought that's what we were doing," you defended.

He sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "There's spending time together, and then there's this constant need for validation. I can't even check my messages without you turning it into a drama."

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, a mix of confusion and hurt. "I never meant to. I just wanted to be close to you. What's so wrong about that?"

Felix sat up, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because it's too much! Can't you see that? I need space, Y/n. I can't be your source of constant entertainment."

The tension in the room escalated, and you could feel the weight of his words settling in. "I didn't think wanting to be close to my boyfriend was asking for too much," you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Unknown to you, in his mind, Felix was wrestling with the contrast between your actions and his past self.

If I was always like this with the members, what must they have felt? Or did they just tolerate it to spare my feelings? he thought. Maybe they needed space, just like I do now. But I never gave it to them. I never thought about how they felt. All the times I thought I was comforting them was just me comforting myself.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, he looked back at you.

Felix's frustration grew, evident in the way he raked a hand through his hair. "I need time for myself, and I thought you'd understand that."

"I do understand, Felix," you replied, your voice quivering.

He shook his head, the frustration in his eyes deepening. "No, you don't, Y/n. You never understand."

The words hung in the air, a heavy silence settling between you. It felt like a punch to the gut, the realization that the person you loved needed something you couldn't provide at that moment.

He sighed, a mix of regret and frustration in his eyes. "We all need to compromise in a relationship. It can't always be about what one person wants."

It can't always be what one person wants. That was something I should've kept in mind all those years of being a fuckin annoying ass.

"I'm not asking for much, just a little affection," you said, your voice pleading.

Felix shook his head, frustration evident in his expression. "It's not about affection, it's about balance. And right now, it feels like there's no balance."

The argument hung in the air, and you could see the emotional exhaustion on Felix's face. It was clear that, in his attempt to avoid the clinginess he experienced with his past self, he swung too far in the opposite direction.

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "So, what now?" you finally asked, your voice small.

Felix ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I don't know, Y/n. Maybe we need some time to figure things out. I just need space right now. I think it would be best for both of us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as Felix's words echoed in the dimly lit room. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension, and you struggled to find the right words to convey the hurt that was gnawing at your heart.

"I'm sorry, Felix," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I didn't mean to make you feel suffocated."

Felix sighed, his expression softening slightly at the sound of your remorse. "Y/n, I need to figure things out too. We both do."

You nodded, a mixture of sadness and understanding in your eyes. "I get it."

As you spoke, a single tear trickled down your cheek, and you hastily wiped it away. The vulnerability of the moment weighed on you, making it difficult to maintain composure.

"I never wanted to be a burden, Felix," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Without another word, you got up from the bed, leaving the room in a quiet haste. As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, taking a moment to collect yourself. The weight of uncertainty lingered in the air, and you couldn't shake the feeling of doubt that crept into your mind. It stung. All the times he hugged you back or told you that you made him feel better by simply cuddling him. It was like everything was fake.

As you reached a more secluded part of the apartment, you sank onto the floor, your emotions finally overwhelming you. Tears streamed down your face, and you cradled your face in your hands, grappling with the ache of a love that seemed to be slipping away. 

The thing that hurt the most was how you were so blind to his feelings? The moments when he pulled away or tensed up, you brushed them aside, thinking he was just having a bad day or was in a strange mood. Now, it became painfully clear that you had been disregarding his boundaries, forcing him into a role he wasn't comfortable playing.

As you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, the guilt twisted your insides. How could you have been so blind and selfish? Your attempts to draw him closer were, in reality, pushing him further away. You always thought whenever he would push away from you or ignore your affection, he was just trying to joke around. The thought of him feeling uncomfortable with you became a bitter pill to swallow.

You wondered if he had ever truly enjoyed those moments or if he had only tolerated them to avoid hurting your feelings. The pain of realizing that your actions might have caused him discomfort gnawed at you, and you felt a sinking sensation in your chest.

The apartment was enveloped in a heavy silence, broken only by the soft sobs that escaped your lips. Unbeknownst to you, Felix had eventually decided to leave the bedroom, and as he walked down the hallway, he heard the muffled sound of your tears. His heart sank, guilt gnawing at him for the pain he had unintentionally caused.

As he approached the dimly lit living room, he found you huddled on the floor, your shoulders trembling with each stifled sob. Felix hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach the situation. The weight of his own realizations bore down on him, and he felt an overwhelming urge to be there for you.

He silently sat down beside you, leaving a respectful distance, yet close enough to offer comfort. His eyes softened as he watched you wipe away tears, and a pang of regret tightened his chest.

Felix sighed, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

There was a moment of uneasy silence before you spoke again, your voice filled with vulnerability. "Why did you fake everything, Felix. Everything you ever reciprocated was fake." You knew you were more mad at yourself than him. "You made me think you liked everything I did."

"Y/n, it wasn't fake" he mumbled.

"Stop lying, Felix." you blew your nose, "You know what? It's fine. From now on just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it. I can stop being clingy and stop asking so many questions. You can tell me when to come over or not. I'll change anything, I just want you to like me."

His breath hitched. You thinking exactly how he did at the time. Wanting to change himself simply for another person's validation. That is how he ended up like he is now and he brought that pain onto you.

"Y/n, never change yourself, " He said, almost like a threat, while turning to you with tears brimming his eyes.

"But you don't even like me for who I am," you sobbed.

Felix ran a hand through his hair, a conflicted expression on his face. "I do, Y/n. So so much. But you started reminding me of-" He paused for a sigh, "Me. and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a pang of confusion.

"Huh?" you asked softly, while blowing your nose.

Felix looked away, his voice carrying a hint of sorrow. "A year ago, I was all touchy, too. But then I noticed that they liked me better when I was less clingy. I didn't want to repeat the same mistakes, so I tried to be different with you."

The weight of his confession lingered in the room, and you felt a deep sense of understanding wash over you.

However, you inquired, "Who's 'they'"

"My members, friends, everyone. They all thought I was too much. I didn't want that for you."

"But I don't want you to be different, Felix," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I just want to be close to you."

Felix turned to you, his eyes glistening. "I want that too, Y/n. All I ever wanted to do is just lay in your arms and tell you about my day and just fall asleep. But I'm scared that I'd make you feel uncomfortable."

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the raw honesty behind them. The realization that Felix had been holding back his true self for fear of repeating past mistakes tugged at your heart.

"I didn't know," you whispered, your voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Y/n," he shook his head, indicating that it's not your fault. "I don't think you know that back then, I could get way more clingy than you are now." Felix chuckled.

"That's impossible," you replied as Felix shook his head.

Felix sighed, a mixture of sadness and relief in his eyes. "I'll need to figure myself out cause I don't want to lose what we have" He reached out, gently wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

As Felix's touch lingered on your cheek, you looked into his eyes, finding a glimmer of hope amidst the emotional turmoil. "Felix, maybe… maybe you should talk to your members about this. I'm sure they don't feel the way you think they do. They might understand and help you."

Felix hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "I don't know."

You nodded, understanding the complexity of his feelings. "I get that, but I also know they care about you."

Felix sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his expression. "I'll think about it, but for now, I need some time to reflect on everything."

"Take all the time you need, Felix. I'll be here when you're ready to talk," you assured him, your voice filled with sincerity.

"Thank you for understanding, Y/n. I appreciate it more than you know."

The two of you sat in the quiet living room, wrapped in a shared sense of vulnerability. The air felt lighter, the unspoken tension dissipating, and you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope for the future.

In the following days, Felix did indeed take some time to reflect on his feelings and the dynamics within the relationship. The idea of talking to his members about it lingered in the back of his mind, and eventually, he mustered the courage to bring it up during a group discussion.

As Felix shared his thoughts and concerns, his members listened attentively, offering support and reassurance. To his surprise, they not only understood but also shared their own experiences of finding a balance between personal space and closeness within the group.

Hyunjin, in particular, spoke up, "Felix, how are fucking stupid! Now I feel so bad! You being all mean doesn't change how much we care about you."

Felix felt a sense of relief wash over him, realizing that his fears of being a burden or misunderstood were unfounded.

With this newfound clarity and the support of both you and his members, Felix started to find a love for being affectionate again. It wasn't an instant transformation, but gradual adjustments and open communication allowed him to overcome his insecurities.

"Felix?"

"Yes, babe!"

"Can you get me a towel?"

He entered the bathroom with a white towel in hand, his attention tethered to his phone. Nonchalantly placing the device on the sink counter, he fixed his gaze on you. A sly grin danced on his lips as he boldly looked at you from head to toe. With an assertive move, he opened up the bath towel, enveloping you with it by pulling you into an unexpectedly intense hug that left no room for escape.

[bxtchycaprisun]

let it be me | a. anderson ONE-SHOT

summary: you’d been avoiding your best friend for weeks, and she was determined to figure out what was wrong. she never would have guessed your absence was due to your repressed romantic feelings, which she also happened to share.

notes: fem!reader, bsf!abby, softdom!abby, porn w/ a plot, mutual pining, friends to lovers, angst but in a fluffy way, SMUT, fingering (both receiving), pussy eating (r!receiving), thigh riding, dirty talk, lots of pet names, i think that’s it? 

a/n: i know this isn’t obstinate, but it’s wlw season and i’m WOMANLESS, so i needed to write some smut.

MDNI!!! sexual content. comment if you want to be added to my tag list

(named after the ray lamontagne song)

you and abby never fought.

attached at the hip from the start of elementary school, the two of you were never seen without each other. and as new friend groups came and left, you and abby always stayed inseparable.

you were so close that she’d even followed you out of state to your dream university after you’d graduated high school.

despite the feelings that emerged in your early teen years when abby had grown taller, and the impact of her various high school sports was clear on her toned arms, you never dared to express your changing perspective of her.

other than some consistent cuddling most friends would consider crossing a boundary, the lines of your friendship never thought to cross between platonic and romantic. you figured that if she were to ever return your feelings, she would have by now.

and even though you two were only friends, in a way, she was yours, and you were hers.

or at least, that’s how you saw it.

that was until you saw her out with angela, her chem partner who you’d heard her complain about dozens of times, a girl you thought she hated. and they were drinking coffee and eating pastries at the east campus cafe, you and abby’s cafe.

and though you knew your perception of your relationship was nothing but a fantasy, it almost felt like a betrayal to see her like that with someone else. but of course, you couldn’t actually be mad at her for it, nor would you explain what was making you so upset.

so you did the one thing you thought was logical, you avoided her.

knowing that she would see right through you from the beginning, and demand that you tell her what was wrong, you tried to be strategic about it.

but you couldn’t a thing past your best friend, the girl who knew you like the back to your hand.

and you had no idea what you were in for if you continued your fit.

…

it had been two weeks since you sent abby the text, and now, as she laid belly down on her crammed dorm bed, she was rereading it.

y/n: oh my god abs, i’ve got the worst week coming up everrr. hannah scheduled me like double the hours i’ve asked for and i’ve got two exams! fmlllll

abby: damn, i’m sorry bun. still room for me in that schedule of yours?

y/n: you know it abby. text you later, off to work

the conversation didn’t worry abby much initially. but looking back on it, she saw it in a different light.

you didn’t make time for her. and she was determined to know why.

abby sat up in her bed, furrowing her brows as she remembered the date. it was a wednesday.

she opened back up her texts, quickly typing out her message.

abby: what time you coming over tonight? it’s october, so we can officially make our movie nights halloween dedicated :)

she pursed her lips worriedly as she awaited your response. she had been shot down daily over the last couple of weeks, always given the same excuse. work, exams, stomach flu, etc.

abby knew something was up, she just needed one final confirmation.

y/n: shit, i totally forgot! i promised i’d take my coworkers closing shift since she opened for me. next wednesday i promise!

abby felt her heart sink, the situation becoming all too real and unavoidable. you were angry at her, and she didn’t have a clue why.

she scrambled out a message, quickly pressing send and biting the inside of her cheek as she watched the unchanging screen.

abby: are you mad at me? please tell me what i did, and i’ll fix it

she watches with a tight chest as the bubble of your response appears and disappears. and as ten minutes pass with no text back, she throws her phone down on the bed, groaning into her hands.

if it had been anyone else, she’d assume you were just busy at work. but this was you.

abby sprung up from the bed, throwing on a jacket and slipping her feet swiftly into her beat up sneakers. the sneakers you’d bought her for her 16th birthday.

she swung open the door, grabbing her things and moving swiftly down the stairs and out her dorm hall. she tucked her hands under her arms, pulling her hoodie over her head as she walked through the breezy fall air.

she rounded the familiar block and pushed into the entrance of your dorms.

and before she could think twice, she brought her fist up to your door, banging loudly with her other hand stuffed in her pocket.

“open the door!” she says sternly, already hearing your movement in the dorm.

you pull the door open with a displeased grunt, but as you recognize the rosy cheeked girl in front of you, your eyes widen.

“a-abby?” you stutter, staring up at her with a guilty expression.

she stares at you, taking in your loose sweats and braless tank. you weren’t at work, and you certainly weren’t getting ready.

after a long pause, the reality of the situation setting in, abby speaks up.

“you lied.” she murmurs, her voice low.

you cast your gaze down, stepping back to let her in silently. you knew you weren’t gonna get out of this one.

she shoves her way into your room, shutting the door loudly and pulling her hood off to look down at you disapprovingly.

“so,” she huffs, throwing her arms up and crossing them against her chest. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

you sigh, pinching your temples. “nothings… nothings going on i just-” you begin before being cut off abruptly.

“nothings going on?” she repeats desperately, “y/n, you’ve avoided me for weeks!”

“i- i haven’t avoided you,” you reply breathlessly, stepping forward. “i’ve been really busy.”

“oh right, busy,” she scoffs, “just like how you’re so busy right now?”

you bow your head silently, avoiding her burning gaze. “i- i can explain..” you say slowly, although you sure as hell didn’t want to.

“great!” she snaps, “good, let’s hear it.” she shifts her weight back and forth on her legs, her figure now trembling with anger and desperation.

you look up at her with pleading eyes, trying to find away to avoid this conversation if you had any hope of keeping your friendship the same.

you were so disappointed with yourself you felt like you could cry. for years you’d stuffed your feelings down, terrified not just of rejection but of your own selfishness.

abby was the perfect friend, she was everything you could ask for and more, and yet your inconsiderate mind desired more. and when she didn’t give that to you, you pushed her away.

abby watched your expressions alter, staring at you with her mouth agape. “well?” she asks in a final, breathless plea.

when she doesn’t get a response, her mind jumps to the only conclusion she could think of.

“you’re… you’re seeing someone?” she whispers, her face falling.

your expression twists in confusion and frustration at her accusation, shaking your head fervently. “what? what are you talking about?”

“you are, aren’t you?” she presses on, taking a step forward.

you roll your eyes at the irony of her words. “no okay, i’m not seeing anyone,” you huff, the attitude clear in your voice. “you’re the one that’s seeing someone,” you murmur, back turned to your best friend. your eyes widen at your own words, cursing yourself for letting that slip.

you hear abby’s breath falter behind you. “what?” she asks, voice somewhat amused which annoyed the hell out of you. “did you say i’m seeing someone?”

despite knowing how childish you were being, you narrow your eyes, continuing on with your antics.

“well you are, aren’t you?” you say with a pout, tilting you chin up at her.

at this, abby laughs at you. “y/n… are you talking about angela?” she says with a smirk. “i’ve been trying to tell you about that, so much happened!” she exclaims and you nearly feel like breaking down then and there.

your expression drops, lips curling into a proper frown as you turn away from her once again. she stutters as she sees your change in demeanor.

“yeah right, i’d just love to hear all about angela,” you mutter, unable to meet her piercing blue eyes.

“no no.. it was bad, okay, it was really bad,” she chuckles, rushing over to grab your arms and turn you to face her. but as she takes in your distressed expression, abby’s mouth hangs open, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place in her mind.

“hey, hey, what is it?” she cooes, her voice softened as she brings her hand to cup the side of your face, stroking your cheek.

when you don’t respond once again, her back straightens, and she drops her hands from your skin, staring down at you in contemplation.

“you’re… you’re jealous,” she says quietly, her words laced with certainty.

you shake your head, stepping back from her with worry as she figured it out. “no, why the hell would i be jealous?” you heave, but abby doesn’t let you get away.

“because you like me,” she asserts once again, hands going for your wrists as she reaches out to you.

“hey, look at me, hey..” she brings her face close to yours, lowering to your height. your arms go limp in defeat as she holds you still, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at her.

as she studies your face, the way your eyes crease with uncertainty, she knows.

“you do..” she whispers.

the only thing you can do is drop your head in shame, praying silently that she would agree to just forget this conversation completely and return to your blissful friendship.

your murmur is nearly inaudible as a small “i’m sorry,” passes through your lips.

abby inhales sharply, taking your cheeks into your hands and lifting your head to face hers in a quick motion.

“oh sweet girl… don’t be sorry..” she breathes, brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.

she stares at you for a moment, chest heaving with her uneven breathes, contemplating the same action she’d been dreaming of for years. the action she never thought she’d get the opportunity of doing.

and just as your eyes meet hers, they flutter shut to the feeling of her lips pressing against yours.

you sigh against her, the tension easing from your muscles as she guides you gently against the door, running her hands desperately, yet hesitantly over your arms and shoulders.

the touch, the way her lips gently parted yours, her tongue rolling into your mouth with a soft hum, it was foreign, yet so painfully familiar.

this was abby. your abby. the girl who had been attached to your hip for a decade. the girl you had convinced yourself never to kiss and never confess to out of fear of ruining your perfect friendship.

and you couldn’t be happier as she did it for you.

you bring your arms around her broad shoulders, pulling her against you as your noses clashed together in a desperate kiss, her hands getting rougher and more curious, and so do yours. you tug her hoodie up over her head, touching her chilled skin from the cool fall air outside.

you feel her calloused palm reach below your shirt, grazing the soft skin on your belly, inching upward to your unclothed breast. you feel her hand suddenly stop, her mouth pulling away from yours.

“abby-” you call out her name in a slight moan, digging your fingers into her hair and tugging on her braid. you knew what she was thinking. you knew she thought she was rushing things, but you didn’t care. you’d waited so long.

“i know.. i know..” she nods, eyes nearly shut as she peers down at you, leaning in again to kiss you, slowing her rhythm and taking her time with you.

you whine into her mouth, brows furrowing as you grabbed her hand, trying to pull it towards your chest once again, and she chuckles against your lips.

“so needy,” she smiles, but with how shaky her voice is, she sounds almost hypocritical.

“neglected you for so long, huh?” she grins, kissing the corner of your mouth gently.

even though abby hadn’t had many relationships or sexual partners, mostly thanks to her hopeless pining towards you, she was undeniably more experienced than you.

you could feel the hesitance in her fingertips, the uncertainty in her eyes. knowing she didn’t want to rush you, you grab her cheek, pulling her lips away to speak.

“then don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, eyes looking up at her pleadingly as your thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to relieve the ache between your legs.

abby smiles, not missing a beat to crash her lips to yours once again, and this time her hand travels up your chest without hesitation. you whine as you feel her thumb brush over your nipple, and arch your back against the wall.

she dips her head down to your neck, peppering kisses along your throat, and sucking soft marks onto your skin. she groans as she hears your quiet moans, feeling like she could cum on the spot. she’d envisioned how you would sound so many times, but to actually hear it was so much better.

“you’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” she hums, large palms needing your tits as she pushes your legs apart with her knee, and slots her thigh in between them. “sound so fucking pretty”

your face is red and hot as you let out a quiet whimper in response, grabbing on to her toned stomach to pull her closer. as you feel the friction of her muscular thigh against your clothed cunt, you absentmindedly grind yourself against her.

“there you go, sweetheart,” abby praises you, hands leaving your tits to hold onto your hips. she gently guides you against her propped leg, and leaves small love bites below your ear as she whispers to you. “tell me if we’re going too fast, okay? you tell me.”

you shake your head, hips picking up their rhythm as you try to chase that sensation that slowly builds in your cunt. “not too fast, abs. i want more, please?”

normally, you would care about sounding too desperate, but since this was abby, you couldn’t hold back. even in this unfamiliar situation, you were comfortable with her. and even more importantly, you needed her so bad.

“you want more, huh baby?” she cooes, smiling ear to ear as she helps you keep up your pace. suddenly, her hands push your hips back off of her, and you whine in disappointment. before you can protest the loss of contact, she brings her hands to the hem of your tank top, pulling it off your chest in a swift motion.

her palms return to your waist, guiding you quickly against your small bed, her lips instantly connected with yours once again. she pushes you gently down, situating herself between your legs, and hooking a finger at the hem of your sweatpants.

the fabric is tugged down to your ankles in seconds, and she tosses the pants across the room with a shit eating grin. you can’t help but look up and giggle at her as she crawls on the bed to meet you, kissing up your stomach and on the fat of your chest.

“whatcha laughing about, pretty girl?” abby smirks as she sucks hickeys onto your skin. she tried her best to sound stern, but she couldn’t help but melt as she heard your laugh.

“nothing, this is just weird,” you can’t help but admit with blushed cheeks. “i just… never imagined we would be doing this..”

“oh?” abby says with faux surprise, “so you’re telling me… you didn’t imagine me doing this?” she asks mischievously as she takes on of your nipples into her mouth, sucking gently.

you’re breathing falters and you let out a small gasp, handing falling the the back of her head as she runs her tongue over your hardening nipple. “n-no i mean… i imagined it… just didn’t think we actually ever would.”

abby smiles against your skin, kissing her way down your stomach and settling between your thighs. “what would you imagine, bun?” she asks teasingly as she kisses just above your underwear. “would you picture me doing this to you? dream about my mouth on your cunt?”

with that statement, abby drops in between your legs, pressing her face against your panties and inhaling dirtily. she shakes her nose against your clothed pussy, nudging your clit deliciously. you cry out into your hand, instantly squirming from her touch.

you felt her start to kitten lick your clint through the fabric, causing you to let out an deep whine. you lift your head with hazy eyes, listening to her soft growls against you, which only made your stomach whir.

“abby pl-ease,” you say brokenly, desperately bucking your hips upward to chase the friction you needed, “stop teasing me…”

“m’not teasing…” she mumbles, her voice low as she runs her tongue flat against your underwear, applying pressure to your folds.

“a-ah, please!” you moan, feeling your cunt gush with more arousal.

“you are teasing me, you are-” you begin your protest when she suddenly yanks your panties down from your hips, and before you can process it, her hot mouth is licking a stripe from your hole to your clit.

you release a borderline pornographic moan at the sensation, eyes rolling to the back of your head. she doesn’t waist any time to start sucking at your clit with vigor, and alternating to lap up your juices.

you’re nearly shaking at this point, your chest heaving with every breath and hips twitching from every touch she gives you.

“fuck- i love the way you taste bun…” abby moans into your pussy, her hands keeping a bruising grip on your waist. “knew you’d taste good.. so fucking good…”

she already sounds pussy drunk as she flattens her tongue against your clit, helping you grind your hips against her mouth however you wanted. you continuously tried to close your legs around her head, completely overwhelmed by how good she was fucking you, but each time her palm would catch your leg, only pulling you further apart.

“gotta stop squirming, baby,” abby would growl as your thighs continued to tremble and your arms would thrash around aimlessly. you respond with an apologetic whine, already too cloudy minded to form words.

when you continue to move in her grip, she finally pushes your knees against your chest, keeping you firmly pinned with your cunt fully exposed for her.

“look at that…” abby cooes as she gives your pussy a small slap before dipping her mouth back down to your hole, lapping you up quickly.

“how many fingers you want, sweet girl?” she breaks away from your cunt to ask you breathlessly, before returning to suck at your clit.

you whimper from the added pressure of the position, head falling weakly against the pillow as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“ngh.. don’t know… o-one..?” you manage to muster, but you can’t already feel yourself tipping over the edge. anything abby gave you, you would take.

“hmm…” abby smiles against your pussy, keeping your legs pushed up with one hand while bringing the other down to slide through your folds.

you groan as you feel the tips of her fingers prodding at your hole, unconsciously pushing yourself against them. “we can do two…” she whisper as she slowly inserts her middle and ring finger into your pussy, hissing through her teeth as she feels you clench around her.

“relax baby… it’s only me,” she comforts you as she curls her fingers experimentally inside of you. you let out a soft cry, back arching against your mattress as she explores your insides.

abby watches your expression carefully, her tongue giving your clit small, stimulating licks as she searched for the spot that made you scream.

when she felt the spongy area deep in your core, and watched as you jolted against her fingers, panting out a moan, she knew she found it. she gave you one last lick, collecting the juices that leaked around her fingers on her tongue, she crawled up to your face with her fingers still deep inside of you.

her strokes were slow and gentle at first, teasing that spot with an almost unbearable pace. her eyes met yours and she positioned herself above you, but her pupils were darkened.

“i want to go harder,” she whispers, her voice low and full of lust. “can i do that, bun, can i go harder?”

you nod and quickly, grabbing onto her neck and pulling her lips against yours, moaning at the taste of yourself on her tongue. “please… so close..”

she didn’t need to hear another word before her pace turned from gentle to hammering. the air is punched out of you as she drills her fingers into your pussy, curling upward and hitting that spot with every thrust.

you were crying and moaning out her name, grabbing onto anything you could as she continued her rough assault on your hole. obscene squelches from your pussy fill the room, and your face blooms from embarrassment.

abby kisses you sweetly, in sharp contrast to the brutal pace of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her, hoping for a bit of her comfort to ground you in this moment. she immediately recognizes your need, bringing her forehead against yours as she fingered you.

“that feel good baby? yeah?” she whispers, her voice sultry as her palm rubs perfectly against your clit.

“m’gonna cum.. abby.. oh my god,” you cry out, fingernails digging into her back without even realizing. she clenched her teeth, the stinging pain only enhancing her desperation.

“that’s it sweet girl..” she mumbles, her pace unbreaking. “cum on my fucking fingers- let it out.”

without missing a beat, you feel your hearing practically go out, white hot pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm crashes down on you. you shake, mouth open in a silent moan as you ride out your high, abby’s fingers never ceasing. your final sound comes out in a shattered moan, your eyes rolled back as you grind your hips into her fingers, feeling the best high of your life.

“good girl…” abby praises, her fingers slowing down even so slightly as she watches your expression.

“good. fucking. girl.” she finishes, her pace coming to a stop as she feels you tense up from the overstimulation.

you fall against the mattress, your face completely red from your post-orgasm, and your chest heaving with every breath. abby takes her fingers out of you, shoving them into her mouth and licking them clean.

you watch her in amazement as she lowers down to your face, pressing her lips against yours gingerly. you smile against her, pulling her closer by your shoulders until she practically falling on top of you.

“y/n,” abby giggles, trying to remain propped up from her elbows. “i’m gonna crush you!”

“don’t care,” you shake your head with a wide grin.

she smiles, kissing you again, but this time with a little bit more desperation. her tongue slips past your lips, massaging the inside of your mouth.

you tug on the waist band of her sweats, looking up at her with a pout. “take ‘em off,” you whine.

abby smirks at your plea, shaking her head. “so bossy,” she mumbles, pulling down her pants and tossing them aside. you instantly spring up on your knees, smashing your lips against hers.

abby flinches a bit, startled by how quickly your fingers find their way to the waistband of her boxers. you yank them down her muscular thighs, diving your much smaller fingers between her folds as you kiss her sweetly.

“woah- baby,” abby breathes, her voice almost failing her as she grabs onto your wrist. “what’re you doing?”

“returning the favor, silly,” you grumble against her lips, smiling as you feel just how wet she is. “i think i got you a little excited,” you giggle.

“no.” abby shakes her head firmly, “you’re not the one that gets to tease me.” she tries to sound stern, but the shake in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.

it wasn’t often that abby was on the receiving side. but staring down at you, with your eyes blown wide staring at her dripping cunt, she couldn’t help but grow just as desperate. she needed this too.

you palm her aching pussy, watching in awe as she bucked her hips against you, bringing her hands up to clutch the headboard. you hold your breath to surpress your own moans at the sight, wanting to only hear her soft sighs and the dirty sounds of her wetness.

“fuck… yeah like that,” abby groans, head falling back, and her knees trembling as she stays upright for you, not even realizing how she’s furthering spreading her thighs, and grinding into your palm.

she felt herself getting red the moment she realized she was already about to cum. but the pleasure was too consuming, and she was too pent up to feel any embarrassment.

the second you slipped your middle finger into her folds, your thumb instantly finding her clit, she toppled over the edge. she released a strained moan, instantly falling against you. she props herself up on the headboard to keep up her weight, and lets her head fall into your neck. she brings one hand down to cover yours, keeping your palm in place as she practically humps your fingers. she rides out her orgasm in shuddering breathes.

you watch her in shock and awe, remaining silent as she started to come down. she pulls your hand away, burying her face further into your neck with a deep sigh.

“did you just..” you begin, and she could practically hear your smile.

“yes..” she groans, rolling her face towards yours and pressing her lips at the base of your throat.

your grin widens as you stare up at the ceiling, stroking her back carefully. abby lifts her head, and secures her arms around your waist.

in a quick movement, you are rolled on top of her, your legs intertwined. she holds you tight to her chest, kissing the top of your head affectionately. you blush as you feel the stickiness between both your legs.

“we’re a mess,” you say softly, smiling up at her.

“leave it for now,” she whispers, fingers tracing shapes on your bare back. “wanna stay like this for a minute.”

you lay there in silence, listening to each others slowing breaths. and in that moment, you knew this was what it was supposed to be all along.

abby’s words come out in a content hum, her fingers affectionately pinching at the soft fat below your ass.

“sorry for making you wait so long, sweet girl.”

“you’re forgiven.”

[aquaticmercy]

Aquaticmercy’s General Masterlist

I write about MCU / Marvel Comics characters.

I have written for Bucky Barnes, Agatha Harkness, Carol Danvers, and Sam Wilson.

I have WIPs for Yelena Belova, and Natasha Romanoff.

My stories may have adult themes. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Bucky Barnes

One Shots

Beautiful Mess

Bucky tries to cook you a food you’ve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.

Almost Kisses

Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.

All These Things That I've Done

In which Bucky leaves behind a loving note every time he goes on a mission. But what happens when you stumble on a letter not meant to be found… yet?

In Another Life

Bucky is certain you only see him as a friend. It only took him travelling to a different reality to realise otherwise.

Comfortable and Easy

You are the only person Bucky could ever spend a domestic evening with.

Bloodstains and Daydreams

You and Bucky fantasize about starting a family while tending to each other’s wounds.

Under my Skin

Bucky is always ready to give his girl cuddles.

Hot Chocolate?

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

Do Humans Dream of Normal Sheep?

Generations ago, your family was cursed to never sleep. Now that the curse is broken, Bucky helps you rest by telling you a bedtime story.

Of Black Ink and White Lillies

Bucky wants to get a tattoo, so he asks you for advice.

Morning Coffee

A drabble in which he makes you coffee every morning, without fail.

The Great Wave

Bucky would do anything to make his girl happy. He would even risk his life to get you the perfect gift.

Altar Ghosts

While on a mission with Bucky Barnes, you’re forced to confront your ex-fiancé, who left you at the altar. Bucky helps you realize you deserve far better than the man who broke your heart.

Happily Ever Eventually

Sam and Yelena are helping you and Bucky plan your wedding. 

Love in Full Bloom

Bucky thinks everything he touches dies, but the plants in your apartment prove otherwise.

Dangerous Game

Bucky Barnes is dating a trigger-happy antihero, and she has him wrapped around her finger. She’s just Bucky’s pretty girl, and he lets her get away with everything.

Temple

Bucky Barnes is struggling to say ‘I love you,’ so he says other things to make sure you know he cares.

Breaking Point

You and Bucky had always hated each other. When Bucky gets injured during a mission, you start wondering if the hatred was just masking something else.

Strays

Bucky has a soft spot for strays.

Soft Lights

A drabble in which you and Bucky get high together.

Kickoff

A drabble in which Bucky tries supporting your favourite football team.

Hypothetically: Version 1 / Version 2

The Thunderbolts* crew gossip about Bucky's love life / Your ragtag group of supernatural superheroes gossip about your love life. (A one-shot told in two perspectives!)

Sleeper

When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.

Match

You finally found your intellectual match in Bucky Barnes.

Full Throttle

Bucky thinks he hooked up with a really pretty mechanic. 

The Catalyst

In this universe, you and Bucky are happy. In other universes, it might not be that simple.

Portals

You teach Bucky how to open portals using a sling ring. Turns out, he’s a menace with that thing.

Series / Multi-parts

Of Heroes and Heartstings Masterlist (Completed)

Bucky Barnes develops a crush on the researcher who interviewed him.

Waste a Moment Masterlist (Ongoing)

Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Dark Necessities Masterlist (Ongoing)

You drink Bucky’s blood out of necessity and accidentally form a primal bond that has the ability to unlock an ancient ritual magic.

My Own Soul's Warning + Supporting Stories Masterlist (Ongoing)

This is a series of one-shots that revolve around you, a cosmic entity who falls in love with Bucky Barnes and sacrifices everything.

Agatha Harkness

One Shots

To be Loved

A drabble in which Agatha makes sure you can never die.

Perfection

You and Agatha are on a perfect picnic date when its started raining. Why not dance in the rain?

Safe and Sound

You have been cursed. Agatha will stop at nothing to destroy the witch that cursed you.

Sam Wilson

One Shots

The Future's Overdue

A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Carol Danvers

One Shots

Peace and Quiet

A drabble in which Carol always seems to run off to save a distant galaxy before breakfast.

Multi-character Blurbs

Bucky, Steve, and Sam as dads

Bucky is a girl dad, Steve is a boy dad, and Sam has both!

—

[hayakawalove]

Love From a Thousand Miles Away

Summary: Oikawa just finished a match and has plans to call you after. He learns that you got up to something in his absence, leaving him feeling a bit left out.

A/N: Hello! It's my first time writing him, so I hope it's okay. Comments appreciated! I want to write him more!

CW: Smut, Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Humiliation, Hand Jobs, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player W/C: 1,910

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

“And with that, CA San Juan grabs the gold with a leading score of 30-28!” 

“It couldn’t have been done without their phenomenal setter, Toru Oikawa!” 

A stadium full of cheering fans surrounds Toru, but he isn’t focused on any of that. Don’t get him wrong, he’s grateful, really grateful. It’s been a long road to success, and he couldn’t have been happier. However, something else was on his mind entirely. And that something else came in the form of you. 

Toru smiles and rustles his team mates backs, sweat dripping down his forehead but he’s only thinking of one thing. You. You. You. 

He misses you so much he’s sick to his stomach. You were back home keeping watch over the house. Honestly, he didn’t really mind that you weren’t going to be there for this match. He just wanted to be by your side. 

Sure, this was his third consecutive win this year and it was only April, but that wasn’t the most important thing on his mind. 

His teammates wanted to celebrate that night by hitting the town, planning on getting drunk off their asses. They really tried to get Toru to join in, but he just gave a shrug with a slick grin, waving them off as he exited the locker room. 

“Can’t, got a date with my girl.” 

“She didn’t come with you?!” One of his teammates calls out after him. 

Toru doesn’t respond, instead digging for his phone in his smooth team jacket. You were planning on video calling after the match. As he turns on his phone he sees two notifications from you. 

You: Good luck on the match baby, I’m rooting for you 

You: how did it go? 

The last message came in only minutes ago. He finds it funny that you asked him that, seeing as how you knew exactly how the match went. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you watched it live on TV. He really hopes you were watching it, at least. He blew a kiss intended for you towards the camera before one of his serves. Nevertheless, you asked that question after every game. He asked you why a couple of months ago, and you told him it was because you wanted to know how it went from his perspective. You liked hearing him describe it, how the match looked through his eyes. 

Toru: it went great, I should be back at the hotel in 30 minutes. I love you

Toru grins at his phone and slides it back in his pocket, running his tongue along his bottom lip. 

As soon as Toru arrives at the hotel he hops into the shower. He refuses to look even a little gross for you. Even though you’ve told him on more than one occasion that you thought it was hot when he was sweaty. 

Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips as he saunters over to the bed. The sound of him video calling you echoed throughout the room, the anticipation of seeing you again making him giddy. 

He flops on the bed, laying on his stomach as he stares at the screen. It only rings a couple more times before your face lights up his phone. 

“Hey baby.” You say with a smile. 

There’s sunlight behind you, a stark contrast to the unforgiving darkness of where Toru was at. Exhaustion is seeping in his bones, but he doesn’t mind. 

Toru excitedly says your name, a toothy grin pulling up on his face. All is right in the world now. Conversation flows easily between the two of you. He recounts the game for you, explaining each detail as you patiently listen. He feels a surge of pride when you tell him ‘good job’. It always sounds better when you’re the one saying it. 

“So, how was your day?” He asks, resting his head on his propped up hand, looking at his screen. 

You’re biting back a smile, nervous eyes flicking away. The action makes curiosity burn in his gut. Toru has always been good with people. He excels at talking with them, always making them feel comfortable enough to open up. But above all else he’s good at reading people. It’s a skill he uses to his advantage every time he’s in a match. It’s a skill he’s using right now. You’re hiding something. 

“Well, I did some cleaning a little bit ago. I wiped down the kitchen and did laundry. Then I took a short break and was about to get started again when you called.” 

Toru squints at the phone, analyzing your facial features. There’s a glint in your eyes that’s hard to miss, and there are indents on your bottom lip from your teeth. He has an idea of what you were up to, but he decides to ask anyway. 

“Yeah? What did you do during your break?” 

You look towards him before glancing away quickly. Caught red handed. Toru patiently waits for an answer, an evil smile perking up his lips. 

“Oh you know, just kinda hung out.” 

“Yeah? You hung out?” He replies. 

“Yeah, nothing special.” 

“Was that before or after you fucked yourself?” 

Toru watches your facial features change instantly. He can’t help but let out a barking laugh at your flustered expression. Honestly, he finds it a bit insulting that you thought you could hide it. 

“Toru! I, well…” you bite the inside of your cheek and look away, unable to watch his shit eating grin. “Before.” 

“Ah, I see. So you got yourself off before calling me? Don’t you think that’s a bit selfish?” Toru teases. He can feel his body start to heat up, and there’s a sensation stirring in his pelvis. 

“It’s not my fault you aren’t home!” You pout, your bottom lip jutting. 

Toru’s internally cursing his manager for bringing him out here. He could be at home right now. He should be at home right now. Toru should be tending to your every need. 

“Poor girl, can’t even wait for her boyfriend.” Toru feels the unmistakable pressure building up in his lap. 

“Don’t be mean.” You murmur, before biting into your cheek. 

Toru has to hold back a laugh. You really were so easy to read, did you even know that? You like when he’s mean, he can tell. It’s written all over your face. 

“I’m sorry baby, you’re right.” He apologizes, even though he isn’t the least bit sorry. 

You sigh and bring your eyes back to the screen. Toru can feel his breathing stutter. You’ve been dating for years now, but your beauty still managed to knock him off his feet every time. 

“Thank you,” you say softly. 

Toru ponders for a moment. He couldn’t let you get away with it that easily.

“What about me though?” He asks. 

“What about you?” 

“Come on, I’m supposed to learn you touched yourself and not be horny?” Toru lays on his back, holding his phone up. 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Let me see your pretty pussy, baby.” Toru requests simply, knowing you wouldn’t refuse. 

He frees his hard cock from the confines of his pants, watching as it slaps back against his toned stomach. It’s impressive how fast you turned him on. His tip was already leaky, precum freely spilling over as he watches you stand up. You ease your pants off your body, before laying back down on the bed with your phone in your hands. 

“Let’s see,” he says. 

“But I’m embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be. You know I think you’re perfect.” 

He doesn’t let you forget. He reminds you nearly every hour of every day. 

You spread your legs wide for him, bringing your camera further down to display your cunt. Toru groans loudly, the sound carrying over through your speakers. 

“Holy fuck,” he watches the screen intently, running his tongue against his bottom lip. 

Toru is athletic. That much is known. It’s his job for god's sake. But he swears he’s never felt so breathless before. It feels like he’s been playing volleyball for ten hours, but he hasn’t been. All he’s done was catch sight of your pussy. 

“It isn’t that big of a deal, Toru.” You reply, your voice heavy with desire. 

“Yes, it is. You always look so good. Spread yourself for me, sweetheart.” Toru grips his cock, wincing at how good it feels before he begins to slide his fist down. 

You use your middle and pointer finger to spread your pussy, your clit still swollen and cum still seeping from your hole. 

Toru moans, his hand emitting noises now from the precum coating his cock. He imagines it’s your pussy. He imagines how wet you’d feel, how tight your walls would be around him. 

“So wet, didn’t even clean up yet?” 

“I didn’t have the time to.” You whine.

“Messy girl.” 

He speeds his hand up. It’s nowhere near as good as your pussy would be. You’re teasing a finger around, allowing it to circle your clit before moving down further, pressing it into your hole. Toru watches closely, groaning at how easy your finger pushes in. You thrust it in a couple times, and Toru can see how your cum glistens against your skin. 

Oh, how he wishes he could clean it up for you. 

He wants to dive his tongue into you, lick the liquid lust from your pussy until you’re screaming his name. He’d lick it off your fingers too, if you’d let him. He’d place them delicately in his mouth, allowing his tongue to clean the cum from your hands. 

Toru groans as you finger fuck yourself, your moans carrying through the call. Every so often you pull your hand away, rubbing your finger against your clit before completely removing it. Toru closes his eyes for a second to picture you beneath him. How you’d look, how you’d taste, how you’d feel. 

He’s already getting closer now. He can feel it. 

His hand fondles his cock, allowing him to build up closer and closer. Toru fucks his hand, precum spilling over onto his knuckles and down his fingers. It’s a filthy sight. He throws his head back and focuses on the warmth spreading throughout his tummy. 

“Wish you were here, Toru. It was hard to cum without you. You need to fuck me.” You say, watching as Toru gets closer.

“Yeah? You need it bad?” 

“Yes, please fuck me, Toru.” You thrust your finger back inside, arching it up against your sensitive spot. You didn’t intend on cumming again, but you wanted to put on a good show. 

“Fuck, baby.” 

Toru’s cumming. White flows down his fist, the added lubrication making his movements that much smoother. His hand doesn’t stop once, too intent on finishing fully first. You’re groaning at the sight as well. Toru hopes it looks as good as it feels. 

After he’s finished cumming, his hand slowly comes to a stop. The room is no longer spinning, instead a calm lull taking over its place. He looks at his cock before looking at you, smiling as he sees your face. You have a grin on as well, one that makes love spread throughout his body. 

“I’m sorry I’m not there, I’ll be back soon.” He murmurs.

“You better. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to fuck you.” 

Toru chuckles, leaning over to begin the clean up process with napkins. 

“We’ll be reunited before you know it!” 

If you want to be added to a taglist for my future works, please let me know. Just specify what you want to be added in.

[dearestxiao]

the color blue: neon [part 2] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: the days until you finally meet your penpal has been ticking by so quickly, but with a new tutor, a clingy roommate, and a professor who seems to only want the worst for you, it's hard to keep track of time. WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, yandere characters, creepy xiao is creepy (lots of potentially uncomfortable thoughts from his perspective), heavily implied stalking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub-con touching, student-teacher dynamic, age gap (reader is 21+ and zhongli is 27+, feel free to adjust as need be). let me know if I need to add anything! reader is gender neutral.

wc: 10.7k

author notes: I wanted to first say thank you for the wait, and I hope that everybody is able to enjoy the changes and edits I’ve made to the story. I also wanted to say thank you to the mutuals who had helped me create the original version of the story. it has been a long time since then, and I’m not entirely sure if they’re still active (OTZ), so I’m not sure if they would still like to be tagged but I am forever grateful to them. this is the last exposition heavy chapter, as well as my last read edit/re-upload of a chapter, so the next few chapters will be much meatier with new content!!! again, thank you so much for the wait. love you all! as always, reblogs are very appreciated if enjoyed and if possible!

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1]

dark content. minors do not interact. do not repost/link.

from xiao's room, there's a perfect view of the town a bit away from campus that greets him everytime he steps inside. it's a gorgeous sight, which is something he could admit, even though he didn’t choose the place himself, one anyone would be grateful for. the town is bright and bustling even still, and it’s only now starting to dim down. it’s getting late into the night, with flashy lights and beautiful architecture and homey buildings, and so many people, people, people.

there are still families on an outing, and cute couples going on dates. shop owners sweeping around their store. he can see as the everyday salaryman walks back home, accompanying the students on their own way home from classes; he can see so many lives being lived from his isolated little tower.

and yet, on nights like these, no matter how enchanting the view, xiao usually prefers to keep his blinds tightly shutー out of sight, out of mind. jealousy is a vile thing, isn't it? it's nasty, tainting your view of the world, of the things you love. after the first few weeks after xiao had moved in, the view quickly lost the charm it once had. because at the end of the day, to him, the view only serves as a cruel reminder of just how alone xiao is and always has been.

it dangles around a painful reminder of the things xiao can never have. it's so close, yet so far out of reach.

but despite his usual bitterness, xiao doesn’t bother closing the blinds tonight, because tonight, he has hope, hope that he could one day be like the many walks of life he sees everyday from his apartment window. hope that he’ll have something worth wondering about.

xiao sits himself on his bed, the second biggest source of comfort in his life right now. for some reason, he feels awfully nervous. he knows why, but he can’t help but wish that awful feeling away. for a split second, he can’t help but wish he was as confident and fearless as... no. he won’t think like that, not right now, at least. he shakes away the thought. butterflies jitter all up and around his stomach as his shaky hands picks up his phone and dials numbers, your numbers. the digits are already memorized by heart.

he tries to calm his nerves as he presses the phone up to his ear after hitting the call button, nails digging into the pajamas he changed into when he got home. he thickly swallows, waiting as patiently as he can, like usual.

ring. rinnng. rinnnnnggg. 

it doesn't take too long for you to pick up.

"hello?" he finally hears.

it's only one word (and a pretty basic one at that), but xiao can already hear the soft underlying shyness of your voice. his mouth naturally opens a little agape. you've always been nervous around those you weren't close to. your voice sends him into a state of bliss, so much so his brain is too foggy to reply until you coo out another hello, questioning if anyone is there on the other line due to the silence.

he almost has to force himself to speak "It's… xiao," he blinks, not even saying hello back, "from professor zhongli's class," xiao almost slips up by saying the name you know him much better by. “you… we spoke on the train. I don’t know if you remember,” he manages to stutter out.

you had seemed pretty out of it when you two talked earlier that very same day. you must’ve been so exhausted to have fallen asleep like that, right next to him. he’s still replaying the site of it over and over, the way you were struggling so hard to stay awake, head bobbing back and forth. it was probably embarrassing for you, but it was a pleasant sight for him. the soft puff of your cheeks and the furrow of your brows, the shallowness of your breath and how relaxed you looked. it made him feel like a creep, staring at you in that state, such an intimate state, a vulnerable state. 

it’s why he had held back as long as he could before finally tapping you awake, wanting to bask in the precious sight for longer.

he snaps back to finally finish his explanation, “…you gave me your number earlier today," he says it less as a reminder to you, but instead as a reminder to himself. he bites his lip, waiting for you to respond, wishing he could see what you looked like right now.

in the meantime, he remembers how your eyes had begrudgingly opened back up at the feeling of him touching you. he remembers the warmth of your body that felt like it could melt his finger tips from the heat. he wishes he could see and feel both much more often, but xiao is patient. lord, is he patient.

he remembers how embarrassed you looked as you sat up in your seat, trying to reorient yourself. “sorry, what did you say?” you finally had spoken after getting settled. you must’ve been too frazzled to hear him the first time. he cleared his throat before he repeated himself, this time a little louder, a little less shy than the first time around.

“I asked which stop you get off at.” you looked at him with eyes big with confusion. he hoped, desperately (he’s always so desperate), that he hadn’t made you feel anything negative.

he made sure to explain the question in hopes that it made you feel more comfortable and not as confused. “…I can wake you up before you get there, if you’d like.”

despite his wants, he needed to make sure you were safe, and were able to actually get home. if he didn’t ‘protect’ you, who would? definitely not that roommate of yours.

to his (would be short-lived) disappointment you had shaken your head. “no, it’s fine. I really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.” you had paused for a short second before saying, “thank you, though, xiao.” he doesn’t like to remember how he almost shivered at the sound of his name coming from your lips, nor how he had to turn his head as he nodded because he could feel heat creep up it. 

"oh, yes, xiao! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. what can I do for you?"

“you asked on the train if I could tutor you. I wanted to set something up.”

it’s true, even if xiao can’t believe it himself. he knew this day would come, but didn’t expect it to be this soon. after several minutes of silence between you two, (or at least as silent as it could be on a train), you had turned to him, as if remembering something, getting his attention before you asked him something.

“sorry if this is coming out of nowhere. I was wondering if…” you took a breath, and xiao had almost sworn you were bordering scared as you finished your question. “I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me for zhonglis class? I don’t know if you’d be able to, but I spoke to him earlier today, and he recommended asking you for help.”

and of course he had said yes, to your surprise. he remembers thinking, silently, that maybe the universe was rewarding him for being so patient, and he had to keep his cool the best he could. 

now here he is, actually setting something up. “would tomorrow with you?”

"yes!," you let out a nervous little laugh at your uncontrollable excitement. xiao can just picture the smile you have on your face, all shy and awkward and cute. "that would work great, I think. I really wasn't expecting you to set something up so quickly. I'm grateful though."

xiao would make the tutoring session today during the dead of night if he could. of course he would set something up so quickly.

you don't need to know that, though.

xiao hums at your words. "we… we can have our first session at my place, if you're comfortable with that." he realizes he might be coming off too strong, so he adds, "but we can have it somewhere else too." he hopes you agree to the first suggestion though.

"t-that'd be great, yeah. whatever works for you, works for me."

"I'll text you the address and the time, then… and we can discuss more sessions or a schedule and stuff further.”

"that sounds good. thank you so much again." you repeat, and he can hear the relief in your voice. it should be him thanking you, really. 

"of course. goodnight."

“goodnight!” you repeat before you both hang up. a wave of bliss strikes his body.

but he isn’t going to sleep, not yet, atleast. Instead, he’s going to stay up all night, right in front of his window, thinking of all the possible lives he’s about to live.

he’ll make sure to thank zhongli for that in the morning.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

[name]: I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now

[name]: my hands are shaking and everything

alatus: why? is something wrong?

[name]: you know how I told you how I wasn't doing the greatest in one of my courses?

alatus: of course. did something happen?

[name]: the most intimidating guy I've ever met in my life is my tutor now

[name]: and I have no idea how this first session is gonna go

alatus: I think you’ll be fine. you shouldn’t worry yourself

alatus: you should let me know how everything goes.

ーーー☆

xiao's home is, to put it simply, unique.

you were left awestruck as soon as you stepped into the small but gorgeous studio apartment, shocked by both the feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine and the thought of how someone could possibly afford such an apartment, especially as a college student. no matter how xiao manages to afford his place, though, his home daunts over you. 

there's a large window that lines the wall his bed and desk are propped up against and you can't help but imagine just how xiao would look as he looked out of it and at the bustling city. the glass is frosted and wet from the pitter pattering rain that seems to persist in the cool weather of october. it's a little messy, books scattered about here and there and takeout bags littering the table, and the amount of lighting in this room seems to be as minimal (and as cold) as can be, but it's nothing too bad at all. nothing that you could complain about, at least. 

there's so many things inside his house, so many things your eyes are drawn to, like his big bookcase and comfy bed and his expensive computer setup, and yet it feels so... lonely. devoid of life, even. maybe it's the look of the gloomy black walls and the fact that the only lighting xiao has is a tall floor lamp and the light that comes through his window, but you've never seen such a full home feel so empty. no plants except for one little succulent that's looking worse for wear, no photos of friends or family, no bright colors, no pets to breathe life into the place, no companion to help make this house a home. nothing.

you're suddenly grateful you have such a lively roommate.

it's been a few minutes since xiao had let you in, greeting you in his comfy hoodie and baggy pants, hair put up into a messy bun, before attending to something on his computer (an important email you think, or at least something along those likes, something urgent), telling you to sit wherever you'd like and that he'll be with you shortly. you had nodded while leaving your shoes at the door, asking him if his bed would be a seat he's okay with you being on, garnering a hum in response from him.

"...I'll sit here then, since it'll be close to you and stuff," you murmur, admittedly a bit more nervous and unconfident sounding than you'd like. you plop yourself onto xiao's bed, placing your bag at your feet in front of the bed for easy access. xiao takes what's meant to be a quick glance at you, but he's unable to look away.

he knows it's creepy to say, especially when you're just sitting down so innocently, but the sight is better than what he's fantasized about. he's thought of you so many times in his bed, cuddling with him and running your hands through his hair and letting him press kisses into your face and collar bones. he's thought about waking you up with breakfast and how you'd smile and thank him even if he can't cook very well, but he's willing to learn a couple recipes for you. he's thought about laying there with you after a long day, letting you ramble as he listened like he does as alatus. he's thought about how he'd great you once he comes home like you probably do with venti, watching your form as he wait on his bed for him.

and, most of all, he's thought about the way you'd cry and sob and call him a monster once the day that you find out that his bed is now yours and that this apartment is now your home, trapped forever with him, finally comes.

one day you'll be here permanently, he's sure of it. baby steps first, though.

xiao doesn't realize that in the midst of his thinking, he's been absolutely staring you down, and considering that xiao has a naturally viscous (bitchy) looking resting face, you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "xiao? I can... move, if you'd like."

"no, I just..." he clears his throat before looking back at the work in front of him. "sorry, I zoned out for a second. you can stay there if it feels comfortable. whatever you want." the words come out as a sort of awkward, almost inaudible mumble.

is this supposed to be as awkward and tense feeling as it is?

you nod at his words, albeit a little hesitant, further settling into the soft plush of his bed. your brain is still convinced that he might want you to move, but you decide to just stay where you are. you reach down from your seat, pulling out everything you would need from your bag, waiting patiently for any instructions. the soft clicking of xiao's keyboard and the sound of rain hitting against the window fill the otherwise silent room, and honestly, given the atmosphere and the way xiao's room is so dark and cozy and how warm and inviting his bed is, you're tempted to fall asleep.

xiao's presence, though nerve-wracking, makes you feel at home. it feels familiar. you wouldn't mind falling asleep near him again.

but today's (sadly) not the day for resting. xiao finishes whatever he's working on, closing out of the tab and turning his chair to face your spot on the bed. he brushes a piece of his hair back and out of the way, uncovering the eyebrow piercing the bothersome piece had previously hid. his eyes look dead, tired dark circles laying underneath, and yet he still forces himself to speak, like a zombie who simply refuses to just give up and die.

"did you have anything specific in mind that you want to go over?"

you take a second to think, humming in response. zhongli never truly specified what you needed to brush up upon, only that the last few assignments weren't up to his standards, whatever that means. "I don't know. maybe everything from the last few weeks? I'm not so sure."

he too lets out a soft little hum as he thinks for a moment. he's never tutored before, and he's pretty sure he doesn't even have the qualifications to actually be of any sort of help. he makes it up as he goes.

“on the back of your textbook, there's a study guide that covers all the chapters inside." he gently motions for you to give him the book sitting on your lap, flipping to the page before handing it back to you. "I want you to do the questions of the study guide that cover the chapters we've already read in class. then I'll... assess you from there, and we can come up with a plan.”

it seems like a lot of work, and that's because it is. the longer you spend here (the more he can milk this session for everything it's worth), the better.

you nod, moving to get to work immediately, putting your full effort into the task at hand. you both work silently, xiao clicking at his keys alongside the noise of you flipping through the pages of your textbook and jotting answers down. the noises compliment one another well, creating a lingering sense of peace and calm in the air. you find yourself getting stuck on one or two of the questions, but… surprisingly breezing through the rest, and after a while of working, you gently speak his name, alerting him that you've finished. he’s quick to take your work, starting his inspection of it. 

your hands can’t help but get a little clammy as you watch as he reads through your answers, analyzing each and every single written word. in the meantime, you’re doing a little analysis of your own, trying to distract your mind from feeling any more nervous than you realistically should. 

your eyes flick from his messy hair, to the beauty mark almost right in the middle of his forehead, then to the soft dusting of red eyeshadow under his eyes. you look at how he runs a finger against the words on the page, too, almost subconsciously, and though you can’t really tell from this angle what he’s doing, you think he’s more so tracing the letters you’ve written than using it as a means to follow along. he almost looks entranced. you don’t know what to expect from xiao, can’t even guess what he’s thinking, and the furrowed eyebrows on his face definitely don’t make you feel any better. 

you sit there, idley, awkwardly, fidgeting for what seemed like more than just a few minutes, before xiao finally speaks up. 

you can barely hear him as he speaks, his words hushed and muffled. "you... need a lot of brushing up on the content, and your answers… lack good explanations and reasoning." he hands you back your work, sending you an almost sympathetic look. "I can see why zhongli believes you need help,” he adds.

it's a lie, of course, but you don't need to know that, not when zhongli had so delicately laid down the groundwork for all of this to happen in the first place. most of your answers were just fine as is, at least from what he lightly skimmed through.

still, he can't help but feel guilty when that look of embarrassment washes over your face.

for some reason you feel yourself get overwhelmed with emotion. you thought that maybe, just maybe, zhongli was simply just messing with you, as was notorious with the man and his teaching methods. but there's a stark sense of embarrassment that comes from xiao reaffirming what zhongli had said, an embarrassment so strong it sends your entire body ablaze with heat. 

you can't help but awkwardly shift in your seat as you nod along to his words despite the way your head almost feels too heavy to lift, avoiding eye contact lest he sees you so embarrassed over something so... silly, a miniscule problem at best, something fixable with a bit of elbow grease and time, and yet it means way more than it should to you.

you've worked so hard in this class already. why aren't you improving?

he doesn’t let you really catch your breath before he speaks again. "I think we'll need a couple more sessions than we discussed earlier," he mumbles, again, as though too ashamed to speak up, flipping through his own textbook, face in his hand as he thinks. "I want to make sure we can get as much content covered as possible before the end of the semester and catch you back up, since you seem to be..." xiao takes a quick glance at you, and for a moment, just a split second, he sees you, sees inside of you, sees every little thing you've been keeping bottled up, your fear. he looks away, breath hitching out of complete and utter guilt. he forces himself to continue though.

"...behind," he finishes, the single word said notably softer than the rest of the sentence.

xiao forces himself to swallow down his guilt. truly, he feels terrible about lying about this, because you clearly seem to be doing just fine on you own and lord knows how much stress this entire ordeal is causing you, but what's the use of being presented and blessed by the gods themselves with such an amazing opportunity if his sinning hands can't take it out of greed? xiao hates it, but he's always been more of a taker than a giver, taking all he can from people and leaving nothing left of them.

the simple pure utter bliss at the thought of spending hours and hours with you, in his room, alone, intimately and in person instead of just being with you through a phone screen, extinguishes any guilt he could possibly feel.

you, on the other hand, do allow yourself to feel guilt, though it's a feeling that has much more innocent roots than what xiao feels. it's a feeling that pokes and stabs at you as you fumble for words to say. you're a much better person than xiao is in that regard. you can't help but to feel ashamed, ashamed that you were doing so terrible at a course that goes directly into your major that you would have to force xiaoー a man renowned for being a lonerー who surely would rather spend his free time by himself and not tutoring someone so out of your realm and element as you are.

maybe it's not too late after all to consider switching majors, you think.

"you seriously don't have to do that, I don't want to take more time from you than I'm already taking. honestly, I think I'm a bit of a lost cause at this point if I can't even do the simpler questions."

the truth is, not even xiao knows how scared you are. fear and dread soars through your body at the thought of ending up in the same spot you were in last year.

xiao lets out a sigh through his nose at your words, a noise that does nothing other than make you feel worse, especially when you can't read his emotions and tell what's going on in that labyrinth of a brain he has. maybe he's realized that you're not worth spending his time. maybe you really are a loss cause. maybe you really should change your major. maybe you should call it quits and drop out. maybe you should move countries, marry a rich doctor or a lawyer and spend the rest of your days as a glorified housespー

xiao doesn't let you finish your thoughts (plans), instead getting up from his chair slowly. "let's take a break." he says, and while you feel a break is a little undeserved after you haven't done much studying, you nod, thinking it might be best to just relax before jumping back into things. "taking things slowly is the better way to do things," you nod, although the words just barely register themselves in your head. you're surprisingly vulnerable with him.

"I'm... going to step out for a moment to get some air. I'll give you some time for yourself to think." you nod, giving him a small and meek thank you, genuinely so utterly grateful for all the time xiao has given you. you can't help yourself from bothering him just once more before he leaves, though.

"xiao?" you don't look up at him, eyes fixated on your answers and what must've been so wrong with them. you hear him hum, beckoning you to continue.

“do you think I'll be able to pass?”

"of course you will," he answers, and it's the first truth he's said all day.

"of course," he mumbles, this time lower, a reminder to himself of how you'd be completely fine on your own, and that he should never, ever take this opportunity for granted.

he makes a promise to himself that he won't.

----- NEW TEXT MESSAGE -----☆

zhongli: hello, [name]. xiao informed me earlier today that you two will be conducting your first study session today. I'm glad you spoke to him about tutoring like I had advised you to. how are things going?

[name]: it's going fine, he mostly just reaffirmed what you already told me though. but he's been really kind about it all, I'm grateful that he agreed to help me out.

zhongli: I see. I hope that he could give you a new perspective on things and aid you in your weak spots. xiao is an amazing student in his own right, and I'm sure that together, you two will make an amazing team. I'm glad you two are getting along.

zhongli: I'd like to give you a little heads up for a future assignment, but there will be a project upcoming where I'll be sure to partner you two up. I'm sure you two will impress me on what you come up with.

zhongli: I believe in you, [name], and I expect good things coming forward.

zhongli: I'm sure that xiao is grateful as well.

[name]: thank you.

[name]: I hope to meet your standards as best as I can.

-----☆

the apartment is even quieter than it was before without xiao.

it's lonely, too.

in a way, you used this little moment to yourself as a justification and way to figure out just what exactly is the enigma that is xiao. now that you're by yourself, you find yourself looking around at his walls, glancing over at one of the two of his cork boards that seems to have a bunch of what looks to be memorabilia of all sorts, stuff like old music concert tickets of local bands you've never heard of, polaroids with some familiar places and even some of his friends, post-it note scribbles of different tasks he has to get done, among other things.

you visualize yourself looking at the corkboard as though it's those ones in those crime movies, where you're using red yarn to connect the pieces of a story together, figuring out with all the clues you have at your disposal who xiao is.

there's other things, too. posters lining the wall and a singular cat shaped plushie on his bed, a wilted bouquet of flowers in a vase on his kitchen countertop meant for decoration, various little knick knacks on his desk, but the part of his room that catches your eye most, though, is his large, expansive bookshelf filled (a little messily) with a variety of different things, almost all of it stuff you actually recognize.

you’re halfway through looking around before you hear the door open back up again. you instinctually freeze, as of you’re a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. you shift your head, locking eyes with him as he steps back inside. to your surprise, he doesn’t look upset, not even annoyed, just intrigued as he watches you awkwardly shuffle away a little from the bookshelves.

you try to apologize with hast. “sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I swear, I was just–“

xiaos quick to interject as he walks right past you over to sit, this time on his bed instead of at his desk. “it’s fine. I don’t mind. you don’t have to apologize.” he crosses his arms once he’s situated in his seat. “do whatever you’d like.” he adds in an attempt to comfort you.

it sounds sarcastic, but you somehow can tell that it’s not. you nod, taking it as (hoping that it’s) permission to keep going. your eyes move over to the other corkboard near the bookshelves, hoping that you’re not stepping over any boundaries by doing so. this board is filled more with many different photos pinned up onto it. there’s all sorts of sites and places, things like concerts or shops or restaurants or nature– the list goes on– with a rare one or two photos with him actually in it. even rarer seemed to be other people that didn’t look like strangers in the background.

you subconsciously speak a thought aloud. “you seem to go out a lot. to really cool places, too.”

the only thing he really says in response is, “all of those aren’t recent.”

you hum in response, eyebrows furrowing a little as you nod in understanding. “oh, I see.” xiao takes it as an opportunity to ask you something even though he knows the answer already. “what about you? do you go out a lot?”

the question takes you a little aback. “I haven’t gotten out a lot recently either.” you try to think about all you’ve done recently, before realizing there’s nothing much to think about at all. you add, in truth, “…you’re honestly the first person I’ve spent time with in a while that wasn’t my roommate, but I don’t think that really counts.”

he cocks his head to the side at that answer, golden eyes staring at you (almost straight through your soul), intrigued. “why haven’t you spent time with anyone else?

a soft pang hits your heart as you think about the reason. the breakup. despite how much time has gone by, you’re still tender about the topic, and would rather not think about everything it’s caused as a result. would rather not think about him, either.

you let out a nervous laugh. “that’s a long story, I guess.” 

xiao seems dissatisfied with that answer. he’s never responded so quickly, without hesitating before.

“I have time.”

you send a look of slight confusion his way. “I thought we were going to study some more today?”

“right…” xiao let’s a lot of dead air slip in whenever he speaks, pausing and hanging onto words as if he’s doing mental calculations to figure out what the right thing to say next. “…in the future, then.”

you nod as your eye continues it’s adventure through the board before another photo catches your attention fully. it’s a pretty photo of a bunch of people standing near the docks, holding up and letting go of lanterns. it looks like, judging from the date scribbled on the bottom of the photo and the contents of the photo itself, the annual lantern rite from a few years back. you remember that day, almost vividly, too. that was your first year at the school. you and venti had gone together that year. it was magical. it seems like xiao really was never too far from you. seriously, you’re surprised you two haven’t talked sooner.

you can’t help but smile as you reminisce on that day. “I remember this exact lantern rite. there was so many people, and the lanterns were so beautiful. they always are.”

you turn around to face him, again. “how long has it been since you’ve gone to the harbor? if I lived as close as you do, I think I’d go to the harbor whenever I have time.”

it takes awhile for xiao to respond, not because he’s thinking of an answer, but because he’s transfixed on your expression right now. you seem so happy that it naturally just pulls on his heart strings. he’s glad you still remember that particular lantern rite, even though he knows you’ve gone to more since then. xiao remembers that day visibly too, but probably (definitely) not for the same you do. he wonders if you remember that part of it deep inside.

“um… since the day of that photo, probably.”

you’re a little taken aback from that answer. xiao lives on the outskirts of the harbor. how could he have not gone back in years? everything you learn about xiao makes you more and more curious as to who he is. “really?” you can’t help but ask. he can’t help but shrug.

you speak without even thinking twice once more. “would you want to go again sometime then?” your eyes dart away from his face. you can’t help but look away before you finish the question, unable to look him in the eye as you clarify, “with me, I mean.” you stumble out the words more confidently than you exprcted. 

he lets out a sigh. “there’s nothing I want from there…” it’s the truth. he hasn’t been very fond of the harbor for what has felt like centuries, especially not the memories he’s tethered to. he can’t help but to regret the accidental roughness of his words, though, when he looks up to see a flash of embarrassment paint across your face. it feels like he picked the wrong answer, but he wants to say the right one, desperately. xiao has never been great at talking, but he’s trying, for you. “but if you’d like… I’d like to go with you.”

you try to hide the way your heart picks up the pace a little at his words. “let’s go soon, then. I can tell you about myself, and you can tell me about you, too.”

he nods, and for a split second you think you’ve gone insane, because you swear, swear, that for a few seconds, the corner of xiao’s lips curve softly into a smile. a smile! smiling at the thought of you two ‘hanging out’ in the future! for all the times you’ve seen xiao, you can maybe only count on one hand how many times you’ve seen him smile. 

“you want to learn about me?” he asks, earnestly, shocked, and it definitely wasn’t a question you were expecting.

“yeah, I mean I've always seen you around. I think we've even been in the same classes before this year, too, and now I’m getting tutored by you  and I still know pretty much nothing about you.” you pause before adding on, “I’d love to learn more. I hope that’s not weird, or anything.”

he shakes his head, the ghost of a smile still etched onto his lips. and if you looked closely (which luckily for him, you weren’t), you’d see the faint dust of blush decorating his cheeks, too. “I don’t have much to tell you, but… that sounds good.”

he feels embarrassed at the fact he can’t control how warm his cheeks feel and how he can’t help but crack a smile at you. he clears his throat, trying to reset himself, suddenly ready to move on, going back to his desk. 

“let’s keep working, I want to make the most out of the time we have together.” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. you mentally brace yourself for another study session with him.

it’s gonna be a long night.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

ven: where have you been?

ven: haven’t seen you all day……….. ):

ven: my flower, the house is so empty without you……….. ))):

ven: are you with somebody? you never tell me these things anymore.

ven: talk to me soon, please.

ーーー ☆

it's late into the night when you're awakened rudely with a few desperate knocks against your bedroom door.

you can't help but groan as you stir awake, upset to be forced out of your dream state, although that irritation is soon replaced with guilt once you realize just why you were being awakened with such urgency in the first place. after whining out a loud, 'come in,' you peak your eyes open to see your best friend standing in your doorway, tears staining his face so much that they're visible even in the darkness.

shit. it's been so long since you've seen venti like this. you thought all of that was over ages ago.

"can I sleep with you tonight?" his voice is shakey yet gentle, filled with fear and something that you can only label as... need, as if he needs you more than he ever has. just his voice alone, paired with the way he looks so in the doorway while he's shivering and fiddling with his pajamas, hair looking almost as distraught as he's feeling, is enough to have you too stunned to speak.

"please?" he adds on when you don't reply immediately.

you nod, scooting over to make room for him as he slowly trudges to your bed like he's done many times before. he's quick to settle in under the covers with you, laying against the plush pillow underneath him. you move closer to him as though it's instinct, an action done out of retained muscle memory from the many nights you've spent doing this exact thing. your eyes, though half lidded and heavy, trace over his face over and over again, noting how his eyes look back at you and you can't help but think that venti is such an expressive person. even if he's so silent right now, his eyes are cloudy and storming, speaking a thousand words with the thunder that rings out within them.

he looks like he's trying to think of what to say, but he doesn't need to say a single thing. you already know why he's here.

his face is contorted in a way that almost showcases utter agony, and it hurts, hurts to see your best friend suffering, especially when the best you can do is guide your hand softly against the smooth the skin of his cheek and brushing away any tears in pity. if nothing else, you truly do hope that, at the very least, your presence can help.

“do you maybe want to talk about it?” you run your hand through his soft, pretty dyed blue locks that seem to almost glow in the moonlight, feeling the light moisture of his skin from his sweat. you’ve forgotten just how easy it always has been to brush your hand through his locks. your voice is gentle and low as if not to startle him, as if not to shatter him more than he already is. “you know you don’t have to, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”

“no, it’s okay... I just want to be with you right now.” his voice is meek as he chooses his words carefully as though they're meticulously chosen to pull at your heartstrings (they do), and he sounds like he’s on the brink of tears once more.

“is it the same dream as before?” you ask, remembering how many nights you've spent with venti just like this when he began getting frequent ‘nightmares’ awhile back, nightmares that till this day you don't know the contents of.

he nods, although hesitantly, as though it’s some sort of secret. and in a way, it is.

he could never, ever, ever tell you that you’re the cause of all of his nightmares after all.

“are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? you look really upset. you've never told me what makes you like this.”

“no, I just want to… I just want to stay like this for a while.”

“okay, ven,” you whisper, soft and quiet, as if your voice could shatter him whole. you pause, thinking of what to say, before you decide that you won’t prode any further, instead bidding him a goodnight. “I love you, venti. get some rest.”

for the first time in maybe months, venti doesn’t tell you he loves you back.

instead he burrows himself as deep as humanly possible, as if being torn away from you would kill him, just like the way his dreams pulled and tugged ruthlessly at his heart strings, shoving images of you with your new 'tutor' down his throat, like they had with him months and months ago.

how cruel is it that he's forced to see you being ripped away from him both in real life and in his dreams?

-----☆

you're half asleep when you feel him mumble into your skin.

"I miss you. I miss this." he whispers, but you can barely hear him. he misses the way you feel, how comforting you smell, how his hands connect with your body like they're puzzle pieces. he misses having all your attention on him like this, so quick to coo and ask if he's okay. everything’s changed from how it used to be.

"what?"

you feel venti's hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your back as he slowly trails his hands up and down, basking in the way that you feel. "I miss you, cecilia. especially today." his voice isn't shakey anymore. instead it's much more fluid, as though he never had the night terrors that brought him into your room to begin with. you can't help but frown at his words even in your sleepy state.

"venti..." you mumble out, feeling his hands start to dig themselves into your skin. his grip on your waist is tightー not enough for it to hurt, but just enough that it keeps you from pushing him away if you really wanted to, trapping and suffocating you, bordering the lines of sucking the air out of your lungs.

part of you wishes he wouldn't keep things so bottled up from you, because clearly, your constant 'absence' in his life is hurting him more than you'll ever be able to understand, but the more selfish part of you is shamefully grateful that he is. you love venti, but for a man who constantly champions for freedom, he's always been so dead set on taking away yours.

you know deep down that if you gave venti an inch, he'd take a mile, and you don't have many miles left to give. you could spend twenty-four hours of a day with venti and he would still want you to somehow spend twenty-five on him. as much as you love ventiー truly, you love him more than anything else in the worldー, you know it'd be better if you didn't indulge him as much as you want him to. lord knows how quick venti would be to turn you into a hollow, empty shell of yourself by taking every second you have all for himself if he could.

besides, this whole thing will blow over eventually after the party, right?

right?

"I know that I've already whined and complained about it, but god, I miss you. you were gone for so long today with someone I don't even know… seeing you occasionally here and there isn't enough for me. I..." venti somehow manages to pull his body even closer to you, your chest and his chest plush against each other, so close that you can feel the way it rises as he breathes slowly. "I know I'm selfish, but I need you."

he says the word 'need' as if he'd die without you.

you don't think this is a conversation you two should be having when you're so... out of it, exhausted.

"venti, can we talk about this in the morning?"

his grip slowly loosens. "...okay." he says the word slowly and hesitantly, as if he's a child saying a cuss word for the first time, as if agreeing to put his feelings aside until you're in a much more lucid and conscious state is a sin. "I'm... I'm sorry for bothering you and being so clingy and... I just..." venti swallows thickly. "goodnight," venti mumbles, choosing not to finish his thought.

your eyebrows furrow, something about this whole conversation feeling off to you. never in a million years would venti have been so... upfront, apart from the day he invited you to the party. it's like venti's slowly unraveling like a string, just one little tug away from snapping.

it wouldn't be the first time venti's snapped on you though. you need to mend things and shut off the ticking time bomb before things blow up in your face again, like when you...

like when you...

ugh. you'll think about all of this later when you're actually well-rested and capable of forming cohesive thoughts. you softly mumble out a goodnight to venti as well, praying that the storm will blow off soon enough.

it doesn't, though. the winds only get stronger and louder.

ーーー☆

venti wasn't in your room by the time you woke up. infact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. not in his room, not in the kitchen or in the bathroom getting ready, nowhere. he didn't even leave a text telling you where he went.

you guess that venti needs time to think after last night, and you decide that it's probably for the best.

you'll see him again later anyways.

ーーー☆

it's cold out today, october's chill punishing you for wearing too light of a sweater for the weather, but the freezing temperature of the classroom during today's lecture isn't the cause of the way you squirm in your seat out of discomfort. no, you have professor zhongli to take credit for that.

you're convinced that zhongli gets a kick out of giving you borderline heart attacks.

honestly, that isn't exactly far from the truth. there's something about the way your eyes flicker in complete, utter fear just by him saying, "[name], may you please see me after class? there's something I'd like to discuss with you," that sends shivers down his spine, as egregious as that may sound. it's a shameful feeling for a professor to have, but at least he has much more innocent intentions this time as opposed to the last time he's asked you to stay behind.

the request was given to you right at the start of class (which you were actually on time to, thank god) before he began with his lecture. and once again, you couldn't help but think about just what exactly zhongli wanted to discuss with you throughout the entire lecture, almost too busy coming up with theories to focus. all you can think is, did you do something wrong again? was the assignment you turned in last night bad? all that studying you did with xiao couldn’t have been for nothing, right? you're going to fail the semester at this rate.

you wish zhongli was more dead set on helping you pass like last year than assuring that you failed.

you can’t help but call back to that time. you had been much worse off back then. you were visibly behind everyone else, but it hadn't started that way. so much was happening back then. and that breakup, oh that fucking break up, really made focusing on your school work beyond difficult. you truly did put up a fight, tried to make sure you stayed afloat, and it did work at first. but your responsibilities drowned you completely, and you never really learned how to swim.

it was a rough semester, and one of your classes had been taught by the very same man taking great pleasure in ruining you today. your one saving grace? once again, the very same man, who had seemed to take enough pity onto you that he took matters into his own hands to make sure you did well.

you stood out back then, not because you shone bright, but because you didn't shine at all.

zhongli wanted to light that fire back in you that you had at the start of the year. and he had.

zhongli had took you under his wing, struck you with passion and drive, made you fall in love all over again with the topic you were studying through his ramblings and stories and sheer utter knowledge; he revitalized you, filled a hole. he had kept you after class and in his office on weekends, making time to make sure that you succeeded and through his gentle nurturing that was the hot to his own cold. you had succeeded, to your surprise. and he had looked after you ever since.

it was silly for you to believe that he would grace you with the same mercy this course.

but things are different now. so much more different. you were grateful back then for him striving to push you to do better, but now it's overwhelming. back then, his standards were achievableー finish your assignments on time as often as you could, study a little when you can, at least attempt to attend every class you had. it was doable. but now, now you're almost convinced he wants you to become borderline perfectー no, perfect is an understatement. he wants you to be better than perfect.

perfect, and vulnerable.

back then it felt as though he was trying to help you but now, the back of your mind can't help but tell you that he's always been helping himself, benefiting himself, not you.

it was at the start of this school year that you let yourself fall right into the dragon's lair.

either way, maybe it's the fact that your mind was so occupied, or maybe time simply just decided to speed up, but the class flew by in no time. you had practically tuned out all of zhongli's ramblings and teachings today. you watched zhongli dismiss the class, staying seated despite the way everyone else shuffled out of the door as quickly as possible. once again, it was just you and zhongli in the empty room.

fuck.

zhongli walks to the front of your desk, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long sigh, and you never knew how such a little harmless action could strike so much fear into your heart. could you just combust already? you're not at all ready for whatever zhongli has to say.

"what a long class we had today, hm? I hope I didn't bore you too much. you looked particularly distracted." zhongli says, smiling gently at you as he attempts to brighten the gloomy mood you're clearly in. "luckily, though, I've been excited to talk to you all class. you truly were my saving grace today."

is this some kind of sick joke? you were kidding when you thought zhongli must get pleasure out of your failure, but you might actually be right.

gross.

"don't worry, though, I didn't keep you after class just to complain. I'll get to the point, since I know you hate pointless chatter."

"I know it's far too early to say this, but I'm proud of you, [name]."

that caring nature still shines through, the strict professor he's supposed to be eroded and washed away by time itself.

your eyebrows furrow. "what?" you can’t help but let the word slip out of your mouth in the midst of your confusion.

"the assignment you gave in last night, truly one of your best works this semester. you never fail to amaze me with how fast you manage to make a turnaround when you put your mind to it, [name]."

the assignment? the one you worked on last night at the last second despite having over a week to do it after studying with xiao that you had to keep your eyes pried open to complete? the one xiao had borderline picked apart a dozen times as though trying to break you down even more? that assignment?

what?

"but I... what? if it was any good, it's likely only because xiao was there to help me." you mumble, unsure of your words.

"so? are you really diminishing your accomplishments just because you got a little aid?" zhongli plants a hand on your cheek like he has a dozen times in the past before guiding your face to look up at him. "or are you trying to say that it was xiao who had done your assignment, not you?"

"o-of course he didn't, but-" zhongli is quick to shush you, pressing a gloved thumb against your lips with a soft smile.

"shh. you did well, and that's final. I hope this pattern continues. you know I want nothing but the best for you after seeing what you can achieve." his gloved hand caresses your cheek and you're convinced he can feel the heat your face is producing out of embarrassment even through the layer of fabric. "my little star, you're doing well again." he adds quietly, so quietly that you can just barely make it out, though the nickname is far less shocking than the praise that your brain is still trying to make sense of.

"before I let you go, I just wanted to reiterate that should you ever need my assistance with anythingー and I mean anything at all, whether it's related to your academics or notー know that I am and always will be here."

"I... thank you." it's the only words you can come up with as zhongli leaves you alone with your thoughts. "thank you," you repeat, speaking the words much more quietly. in a hushed whisper.

in the back of your mind, you realize that you should be thinking about how odd it is for zhongli to suddenly be so sugary sweet, how he's touched you so much more intimately than a professor should, how his little nickname for you is weird at best, and yet all you can think about is how he's proud of you.

for some reason, that's all that really matters to you in the moment. you can think about... all that other stuff, later.

ーーー☆

it's almost pitch dark out by the time you finally get home. 

"I'm home!" you shout out as soon as you step through the front door, voice a little breathy after having to climb up a few flights of stairs to get up to your apartment, alerting venti that you've arrived in a way akin to how married couples do. you're quick to lock the door behind you, stripping yourself of your shoes that feel more like weights before placing them in the shoe rack near the door and putting your heavy bag down next to venti's violin case, deciding you'll bother with getting whatever you need out of there when you feel like it. you wince a little at the cold tiles of the floor underneath your feet.

maybe one day you'll move into a place with an actual heater, you think.

"I'll be there in just a second!" venti's voice rings out from what you assume is the bathroom down the hall, likely showering given the pitter-pattering sound of running water. you nod, as though responding to him despite the fact he can't see you, flicking on the light switch to the kitchen as you do so. the kitchen table immediately grabs your attention with how different it looks compared to how you left it this morning. two orange pumpkins sit at the center, and alongside it lays an unopened package of carving tools and another package of tea lights, a brown bag filled with what looks to be some house decor and knick knacks (venti truly does love trying to make your run-down apartment as much of a true home as possible), and a bag of groceries yet to be put away.

you sit down at the medium sized wooden table, allowing yourself to rest and bask in the day as you look through everything infront of you. it's been awhile since you've just sat in silence and thought, and even longer since you let yourself really live in this home without just heading straight to your room. your nails drill against the table, pushing one of the two pumpkins closer to you with a soft hum. you trace a finger against it, imaginging what'd you want to carve on it and how it'd glow after you put a candle inside.

this year you should do something new, get a little more fancier with the design that you have in the previous years that you craved a pumpkin. maybe you and venti will carve matching jack-o-laterns this year. you can't help but smile at the thought.

"they're cute, aren't they?"

you tense up when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you instantly relax when you turn your head to see venti. you guess you were so lost in thought you hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom. you drink in his presence, giving him a glance over out of instinct. the smell of his apple-cinnamon bodywash assault your senses in an oddly comforting way, a scent that makes you feel right at home. he's in a pair pajamas and cute bunny slippers, and his hair is clipped up in a pretty half up, half down ponytail. the blue dyed tips of his hair are losing their signature color (which is odd, considering that despite his inherit laziness, venti's always been one to make sure those tips stay bright blue at all costs) and his skin looks a little damp.

a gummy smile paints his face, and he has a bit of a playful glint in his eye, but he looks notably tired, and a sense of worry pings at your heart at the sight. you were the roommate notorious for having bags under your eyes afterall, not him, so to see him look so exhausted, especially when venti's always been one for getting his 'beauty sleep,' tells you that venti internally isn't feeling his best. it sounds shallow, judging someone's mental health based on their appearance, but you know venti like the back of your hand, and you know that something's wrong.

even moreso, you know exactly what that wrong thing is, given last night's conversation.

"I got them at the grocery store today. thought it might be fun to carve them together before they go bad. that is, if you want to grace me with your undivided time and attention, of course." venti pretends he's joking, but you know deep down he means the sentiment of wanting you to give him your time for once, and you honestly feel awful at his words. nonetheless, you suck it up, smiling up at him. it's a genuine smile.

"why wouldn't I? it is tradition after all. I'm going to make mine extra scary this year."

venti laughs at your words, his heart internally flutter at the thought of how determined your face would look as you try to create the spookiest jack-o-latern he's ever seen. he leans down, pressing a soft, platonic peck to your forehead, finally giving you a welcome home.

"you're home later than usual again, everything go okay?"

you can't help but notice that venti is acting as if he had never said what he said last night, though the air between you is still awkward and tense, and his face does little to hide the fact that deep down, he's still quelling on the things he spoke about. nonetheless, you decide that that conversation is to be had when venti wants it to happen, knowing full well from years of being his best friend that venti prefers keeping a lighter mood at all costs, so you leave things at that until he's ready to speak about it again.

"yeah, I just thought that I'd try to get some work done while I could at campus," you answer, watching as he nods slowly at your words. you can tell he's fighting back the urge to interrogate you, to ask you if you were with anybody and if you really needed to stay at campus, and anything else he can use as a way to rationalize the fact that he's so clingy. he looks around the room, thinking about what else he could say to make sure the conversation doesn't end prematurely.

"oh! I ordered some takeout a bit before you came home. it's still hot, if you want to eat."

you nod, thanking him, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to figure out just how exactly he can stay with you longer without him bringing up anything you two talked about last night. he stands there, presence lingering as though he has something to say, and yet he chooses not to say whatever's on his mind, instead preferring to pick up the unopened bottle of dandelion wine on the nearby kitchen counter.

"you seem all set. I'll get going now, then. I have an urgent date with a bottle of wine that I can't miss for the world." venti moves quickly to leave as though trying to make sure you don't see through to him, turning his back to you without another word, but he doesn't get too far before he's freezing up at your words.

"you're not gonna stay and chat?" you say instinctively, a little surprised by the fact he was so quick to come and go today. you don't know what it is about today, but the thought of venti forcing himself to go when he clearly doesn't want to pains you. maybe it was last night's conversation, or maybe it's how venti radiates warmth that fights against the biting cold that nips at your skin, or maybe you just miss venti, but you want him here with you.

venti turns around slowly, his voice low as he speaks. "oh..." he starts off, "I thought you would've wanted to eat alone like all the other nights," you almost let out a wince at his words. how long has it really been since you last simply hung out with venti? "do you... want me to stay?" you let out a gentle hum.

"I want you here tonight. I want to talk to you."

"about what?"

you think about everything you'd want to tell venti, and you realize that that's exactly it; you want to tell him everything and anything you can. you want to tell him about your new tutor who turned out to be a lot less scary than you were expecting him to be, or that new coffee shop a friend had told you about that opened up near by that you'd love to tell him about, or how zhongli was actually kind to you today. but you also want venti to tell you everything too, about any escapades he's had recently while drunk or new songs he's written, or even how his classes are going and if he's thinking of going to any other parties soon.

you realize that, as much as you'd hate to admit it to yourself, you miss just being with venti a lot too.

"everything," you finally reply after thinking, grinning up at his hesitant form.

"everything? really? this isn't a ploy to tell me horrific news or to try to get out of going to that party, is it?"

"no, I promise. I'm honestly a bit offended you'd think I'd ever be so cruel as to try to get out of going to such an amazing party," you joke.

venti playfully rolls his eyes at your words, but he can't help the smile that creeps up his face. his smile is bright like a star, warm enough for a planet to survive off of, eyelids crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he puts the bottle in his hand down befofe he pulls up one of the kitchen chairs, the legs screeching against the floor so that he's sitting infront of you. he leans in close to you as though you were about to tell him the greatest story known to man. you can't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. venti's smile, his real and genuine smile, gives you a feeling like no other. it makes you feel whole, like none of your problems neither exist nor matter and that everything in this world is perfect.

"okay then, dove, tell me everything."

ーーー NEW TEXT MESSAGE ーーー☆

alatus: can you believe it's almost sunday already?

[name]: holy shit, time is going by so fast

[name]: I'm so excited to meet you in person

alatus: I'm excited too.

[name]: I can't believe I've known you for over a year and I'm only going to get to see your face now

[name]: I swear, if you're just some creep...

alatus: I promise I'm not.

alatus: well, maybe.

[name]: ha ha, very funny.

[name]: but seriously, it honestly feels like I've known you for forever.

alatus: maybe you have and you just never noticed

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Can you make a story where reader protected Donna from danger that almost cost her life. Donna manage to save her but reader hs been unconscious for a weeks. While she's taking of her, Donna couldn't forget what almost happened to her lover. This became worst because of the severe mental illness that Donna has, but this time she's actually losing her sanity at this point but still clinging to the reader because she's the only one can make her sane. Miraculously the reader woke up, still injured but alive. Donna felt a sense of peace in her soul.

Note: Reader almost died because a soldier tried to kill Donna but she save her. The soldier is possibly a BSAA agent.

It's in Donna's POV, I want to see things her perspective especially when she starts breaking down.

Donna is also shy and weak not like most of her siblings so she struggled with this to.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Come back

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna's POV, mental health issues, Donna being Donna

Word count: 5,650

Summary: Please, let you light come back to my darkness...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Come on, Donna, it's just a walk,” you said in a tender voice, with those eyes you knew perfectly well I couldn't resist.

I sighed, shook my head and fought the gentle tugs you gave to my hand.

“We, we're better off at home,” I murmured, looking away and causing you to sigh tiredly.

Your pleading look didn't change.

“Come on, today is a too great day to be locked up in this horri… I mean, wonderful, dark house,” you said jokingly, swinging my hand with yours. “Please…”

“(Y/N),” I said a bit nervous, shaking my head again but, surprisingly, starting to think about your offer, as always.

You always did with me what you wanted, and I let you. I would do anything for you, always, (Y/N), always.

“Is that a yes?” you asked with a sufficient smile, completely ignoring my protests. I wish, (Y/N), I wish for once, you hadn't insisted.

“I didn't say yes,” I said, frowning, gently pulling you along, with an amused sigh.

“Now you did,” you joked in my ear.

How could I refuse?

“W, well, okay, okay...” I whispered defeated, unable to make you see how comfortable I was at home. I don’t liked going outside. Of course, you were always there to make those fears, which you said were irrational, disappear.

You jumped for joy and stole a kiss from me, one that relaxed my nerves even more. Your kisses had that effect on me, a wonderful effect. I returned it, unable to do anything but look at your eyes, your smile. You were my only addiction.

With a brief triumphant smile, you walked towards the door and I followed you, reaching out for my black veil, the one I never left off if I had to go out for some reason. I already knew I was a monster, you did too, but you denied it, you always denied it.

“Hey, no, leave it there,” you said, giving me a gentle slap to get me to let the veil go before I cover my face.

“But, but, (Y/N)… I have, I have to…” I stammered, trying to make you understand that I needed that veil, that the sunlight was a privilege that someone like me didn't deserve.

No, the world didn't need to see my deformed face.

I couldn't stop you from seeing it, but I could stop nature from being disturbed by my horrible appearance.

“It’s just a walk through the grounds. There's no one around here, you don't need it,” you said in a soft, comforting tone, definitely moving the cloth out of my reach.

I, in my perpetual madness, tried to snatch it from you, without success.

“Donna, stay still,” you said, this time with a firm voice, forcing me to remain paralyzed and nod defeated once again. “That's it... Good girl,” you whispered, pleased by my answer, by my shoulders falling helplessly and my slightly angry look.

“You like to make me suffer,” I hissed, unable, again, to face your decisions.

Deep down I knew you did it for me, you always did it for me.

“Yes, yes, I like to make you suffer...” you repeated rolling your eyes, without letting the smile disappear from your face. “Stop complaining and come here,” you ordered softly, gesturing with your hand. “Come on, come here.”

A bit reluctant, but motivated by that look, by that smile, I obeyed, grabbing your hand again as we left the estate. It was the first time in a long time that I could see the sun clearly, and it was blinding.

“If you feel sick, you get nervous or want to go back, just tell me, okay?” you said as we walked.

“I want to go back,” I whispered, in an embarrassingly childish tone. You laughed amused, arching your eyebrows and squeezing my hand tighter.

“You’ll see how good the fresh air is for you,” you said, ignoring my protest and kissing me on the cheek. “Besides, I’m here with you, holding your hand very tightly, see?”

I looked down, distrustful, looking at our intertwined fingers, my hand next to yours, fused into one. I don't know how you did it, but your advice always worked, relaxing my spirit.

Before I met you, I thought my life had only one purpose, one that I even doubted: to exist, to attend to the requests of my savior, Mother Miranda. Being named Lord was not a relevant change in my life.

I spent all those years alone, as if the world itself had forgotten me. I cannot be surprised by that. I, Donna Beneviento, never knew the meaning of appreciation, affection, love...

My misfortunes haunted me. I was unable to escape from my demons, from the illness that damaged my mind. Feeling powerful, with control over people should have been enough to give meaning to my life, but it wasn't.

The hours, the days, the weeks... Not even the passage of time had meaning in my old estate, I wonder if it ever did. No, nothing in my life could keep me away from the darkness, nothing could silence the voices in my head, my cries in front of the mirror, the nightmares…

Angie was a good support, but it wasn't enough. I guess my father thought the same when he gave her to me. It's a shame that she didn't serve any purpose. It was just to increase my problems.

People, conversations, human contact… All this stuff always sounded like something impossible in my head. I was aware that there couldn't be anyone, that no one would be able to understand me.

Solitude became my name. Isolation was my home. A horrendous monster, was my appearance.

I had already assumed my sentence, my sentence for existing, for being born in that cursed place, in that cursed family. There would be no remedy for my soul, or so I thought.

Then you came.

(Y/N), a girl from the village who dedicated herself to weaving, to selling her fabrics. What a curious coincidence. I needed those fabrics, you made them. Always, even before I met you, you had something I needed, something I craved.

Love was a dream for me. I could only get close to it in my books, in my dreams where a female hand held mine.

Was it your hand from the beginning? I have no doubt.

But, thanks to you, I knew what it meant to have someone by your side, someone who… loved you. Maybe it wasn't hard for me to fall in love with someone like you, a beautiful, smiling, cheerful girl… However, I still wonder what you could see in someone like me, (Y/N).

 I was, I’m a monster.

Your lips silenced my doubts with a kiss, one you gave me under my black veil. You said you never cared about what was underneath, you only cared about knowing if I was as crazy about you as you were about me.

I was, really, I was.

Loving you was easy, the fear of losing you wasn't. You should have abandoned me when my demons forced me to yell at you, to hurt myself. You didn't, you never left.

Like an angel I never had, your presence illuminated me. It revealed to me the little light left in my soul. Your hand, the one I dreamed of before I met you, held mine tightly to calm me down, to return to being that good monster you wanted to kiss.

The little sanity left in my tormented soul was like a thin thread that your perfect hands held. There came a point where I couldn't, I didn't want to live without you.

“Are you okay?” you asked, taking me out of my thoughts, entering that dark forest, walking slowly, in silence.

I nodded, smiling as I remembered you, as I thought about that first kiss, about all the ones that came after, about all the things you showed me. You showed me to love, and to be loved, just thinking about it could make my deformed face smile.

“I was just thinking,” I said, clearing my throat.

You nodded slowly, leaning towards me, resting your head on my shoulder, sighing in conjunction with the calm of that forest.

“Nice things, I hope,” you joked with a purr.

“Of course, tesoro, I was thinking about you,” I said whispering, making your cheeks blush while your gaze became shy.

Silence was our company again. That walk was certainly not a bad idea. Nothing could be bad if it was with you.

“You are very sweet, Donna,” you sighed, stopping and turning my head to give me one of your kisses, a gift much more divine than the Black Gods themselves.

“I try,” I said amused, moving your hair out of your face. I hated it. I hated seeing how the locks got in the way of your beauty.

Did you also feel the same when I put on the veil? No, impossible, you were an angel, I was the devil, a monster.

“Look, let's sit down, the sun is about to set,” you said, changing that sweetness into enthusiasm, pulling my hand towards the edge of a cliff, where an old tree seemed to catch your attention. “Come, sit down.”

I looked at you strangely, but I nodded, obeying you. I would always be faithful to you, (Y/N), I would do everything you asked me to do.

You let yourself fall in front of me, leaning against my body, completely relaxed.

“Are you comfortable, tesoro?” I asked, trying not to disturb the romantic atmosphere of that place with my husky voice. You laughed, looked at me, and shook your head.

“No,” you said abruptly, searching for something with your gaze. You located my arms, grabbing them and passing them around your waist, snuggling among them. “Now I am.”

You were right, it was a beautiful sunset. Maybe it was because you were beautiful. Gods, I love you so much…

“Donna,” you said, interrupting that relaxing calm, playing with my hands with a playful expression.

“Mm?” I murmured, resting my head on your shoulder, kissing you slowly on your soft cheek along with shy laughs.

“Come on, do it,” you said, moving away and looking at me expectantly. I frowned, confused.

“What?” I asked amused. Your cheeks blushed even more.

“You know…” you said with a soft voice, with shining eyes. “Speak to me in Italian, you know I love it,” you asked me, biting your lip.

I opened my mouth to fulfill your wishes once again, but some unpleasant cawing prevented me from doing so. The crows that used to rest in the trees of the forest flew away. It didn't take a genius to know that this was a bad omen.

“Wow…” you said, looking at the birds, curious like me. “What's wrong with those birds?”

“I, I don't know,” I said with a different look, worried.

My hands were starting to shake. It was time to go home.

“There are no lycans around here, right?” you asked, getting up scared by the strange behavior of the forest animals.

“No,” I said, standing up as well, looking around for the source of that horrible feeling that was starting to run through my body. It was like someone was watching us.

“I have a bad feeling,” you whispered, as if you too were focused on a danger you couldn’t see.

“Me too, let’s go home,” I said, grabbing your hand, almost pulling you along, heading back to the path that led us back to the safety of my darkness.

“Donna, wait,” you said, planting your feet on the ground, stopping abruptly. “Have you heard that?”

I shook my head nervously, grabbing your hand again. The chills were getting more intense. You, horrified by something, stopped again with your eyes wide open.

“Don’t, don't shoot,” you said with your hands up, looking towards a corner, where an armed man was crouching, with what looked like a rifle pointed at us.

“Get away, civilian,” that masked man said, focusing his attention on me.

I was paralyzed. I didn't know how to react to that strange threat.

“Donna, watch out!” you screamed, lunging at me just as a thunderous shot echoed in the forest, followed by a flash of light. There was no doubt, that man had come to kill me.

“Back, stay back (Y/N),” I said, pushing you away from my body and dodging another shot. I should have noticed you, I should have.

“Shit,” the man whispered, trying to reload his gun. It was too late for that poor bastard.

I walked slowly, keeping my monstrous gaze on that strange mask. He was going to pay for what he had done, no doubt. With a strange calm, which I needed to use my powers, I extended my hand towards him. He couldn't see my face, but I knew that I terrified him.

“Wait, wait,” the poor man begged, crawling on the ground, throwing away his gun and trying to flee.

Soon my powers began to take effect, forcing him to writhe in pain for things that didn't exist, to grab his gun, point it at his head, and pull the trigger, ending his existence forever.

“Bastardo…” I hissed, kicking the lifeless body of what was, without a doubt, a soldier.

“Donna…” you said, in low voice, crouched on the ground, hunched over yourself.

I looked at you, still filled with the adrenaline that came from using my gift. I ran towards you, I bent down to help you up, but when I looked at my hands, there was only blood on them.

On your belly there was a wound, a wound caused by that weapon, by that stupid act of throwing yourself at me.

 Once again, I was paralyzed, horrified, I only saw blood, your blood.

“(Y/N), (Y/N),” I said nervously, checking your condition.

Your eyes danced, your skin paled dangerously. My hand pressed your wound to stop the red flow that stained it. No, it couldn't be possible, it was a nightmare.

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself fall into my arms, losing strength. I didn't know what to do. I was just trying to keep the light that wanted to leave your gaze. “I saved you…” you whispered with a smile, before fainting completely.

“No, no, no, no…” I repeated furiously, holding your head up high and my hand on your wound, looking for help with my eye, a help that wasn't going to come. “(Y/N)!” I screamed furiously, passing my hand over my forehead, bathing it in your blood.

Do something, stupida…

The voices in my head rebuked me for my frustration, forcing me to take your unconscious body in my arms, running you back to the home we should never have left.

“Resisti, (Y/N), per favore…”

I couldn't say how I got home. All I saw was blood, your blood desecrating your beauty. All because of me, all, because, of, me.

“In… In… In a coma?” I asked when Mother Miranda, in her eternal mercy, came to my call for help. The priestess looked at me after bandaging your unconscious body.

“The bullet has pierced part of her spleen, be thankful she's not dead,” she whispered, closing a briefcase and looking at me with hatred, with the hatred of not being able to save you, surely.

I, still nervous, soaked in your blood, couldn't stop shaking, I couldn't think of seeing you like that, almost lifeless in bed, with your beautiful eyes closed, would I ever be able to see them again?

“Did you kill him?”  Miranda asked, distracting me from the task of squeezing your hand, like you taught me, like you told me all problems passed. “Donna!”

“Yes, yes,” I answered without looking at her. I should have been grateful to her, but I couldn't, I could only hate myself.

“Fine...” the blonde sighed, with that golden glow blinding my eye. “That rat has been causing problems for a while now. I guess it finally got what it deserved.”

I suddenly let your hand go and got out of bed, furious at what those words implied.

“Did you know? Did you know that bastardo was lurking around?” I asked furiously, feeling my temples throbbing as if, without your hand squeezing mine, I would lose control of my actions.

“Shh, calm down,” Miranda said, with a grimace of disgust, without moving, without blinking. Stoic, all-mighty  as always. “Of course I knew. The BSAA never gets tired, right? I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”

“Not for me…” I whispered, squinting, clenching my red fists tightly. “And for her?!”

“Stop, yelling, Donna,” the witch said, pressing her eyes shut with her fingers, again, not even slightly fazed by my behavior. “I couldn't possibly know that your girl was going to play heroes.”

I growled furiously, pacing erratically around the room, thinking of a thousand ways to kill my adoptive mother, to end it all, to make everything go up in the air. I couldn't stand it, I couldn't stand that you had risked your pure life to save a monster's. Anything but that.

“I'll come back next week to check on her,” the blonde said, disinterested. Of course, you were a mortal, she didn't care about you.

I cursed all her ancestors. I really wished that her body and her golden robes would fall down the waterfall where my family died.

“Take care of her in the meantime, or kill her, I don't care,” she whispered, making me growl in horror. “But I don't want you to give me any trouble, is that clear?”

When Miranda disappeared, everything collapsed around me, my body collapsing against one of the bedroom walls. There was no more laughter, no more gasps, no more moans of passion in the dark bedroom. Only my agonized crying echoed off the walls while my hands pulled at my hair, hitting the floor in rage. A pathetic scene that I couldn't avoid.

When I managed to calm down, I saw that Angie was next to me, as always.

“Is she dead?” the doll asked unpleasantly pointing at your inert body. I shook my head, realizing that I had hurt myself, that the blood dripping from my head was mixing with yours on my hands.

“No!” I shouted, angrily pushing the puppet away. “She's not…” I said, this time sobbing, burying my head in my hands, sinking into my knees the shame of not being able to save you.

“Bad Donna, stupid Donna!” Angie protested, damaging my ears.

I was about to, about to deactivate her, but I needed her, I needed someone to speak for me, someone to keep reason in my head, to keep madness away from my sick mind.

“I'm sorry,” I said, getting up from the floor coldly. Angie nodded without resentment and climbed into bed next to you.

I approached slowly, taking your hand in mine, squeezing it again like you taught me.

“She's asleep, huh?” Angie said, getting too close. I controlled my impulse to mistreat her again, with an absurd idea in my head.

If you were asleep, that meant I could wake you up, right?

“Wake up, wake up…” I whispered, caressing your cheeks, your soft, addictive skin. There was no response and I took a breath again, resting my hands on your shoulders. “Come on, tesoro, wake up…”

“Wake up, you fool, wake up!” the doll shrieked, moving you too. Yes, it was true that Angie was jealous because you had captured all my attention, but she appreciated you, really. It was impossible for her not to, she was part of me.

“Per favore…” I begged, sobbing again, seeing that your body still didn’t react to my gentle movements.

My breathing became agitated and my hands trembled as they moved you more and more roughly. My heart was about to explode.

“Svegliati, (Y/N), svegliati!” I shrieked, moving you roughly, desperately. I knew it was a good idea not to deactivate Angie, she stopped me.

“Hey, hey, Donna, stop, stop, you'll hurt her!” the puppet shouted, uselessly placing itself between your body and mine, clinging to my unhinged arms.

I finally left you alone, sinking beside you, crying on your chest, pathetically settling next to you, wrapping my arms around you, just the way you liked it.

“Don't do this to me, tesoro, please... Don't leave me alone...”  I sobbed, staining your skin with my tears, crying until at some point, my monstrous body gave in to exhaustion.

A day passed, two, you didn't wake up.

My desperation seemed calmer, but it wasn't. I took care of you, I looked after you, but in my head there was only a flash, a horrible sound: the light of the shot, the sound of the bullet that pierced your skin.

That bullet must have pierced me, not you.

You had saved my life, what for? Why would I want to live in a world without you?

It was absurd, (Y/N) I should be dead, not you, you should wake up, smile, light up the world with your smile. It was too unfair.

Little by little I forgot to eat, to drink, to live…

I tried to stay sane while I read you your favorite books, hoping that the words that made you feel those emotions would revive your soul and I could see your beautiful eyes again.

But I was never well, I was always sick. Without you, without the thin thread that kept my sanity, I began to take small steps into the darkness.

“I sat with them at the table, next to Queequeg, and mentally prepared myself to listen to some stories about whale hunting…” I read calmly, next to you, my disastrous body didn’t separate from yours for a second, my hand always held yours.

Donna…

A dark voice interrupted me, a voice I knew, that I knew where it came from. Shaking my head, I tried to ignore it, but it wasn't possible. In that old book the words danced, making me dizzy, that dark voice sounded louder and louder.

She's dead…

That voice spoke to me again. I dropped the book, pulled my hair as I bent over myself, preventing it from continuing to speak in any way.

“No… No…” I said nervously, kicking the floor hard.

Yes, of course she is… Because of you…

“No! (Y/N) is alive!”  I screamed neurotically, to respond to someone who didn't exist, who only lived inside my crazy head. “Stai zitto!”

Really? Check her pulse…

Knowing that they were just trying to undermine my morale, that those voices weren't there, just as you always told me when they appeared so I would stop listening to them, I ignored your own words and brought my trembling hand to your neck.

You were cold, frozen, there was no sign of your heartbeat on your neck and, in front of me, your body began to crack, to calcify.

“No… No!” I screamed with my hands on my head, falling to my knees on the floor, crying, pulling my hair, unhinged again.

Yes, Donna, you killed her…

“Basta! Basta!” I yelled crying, covering my ears to uselessly silence the voice of my demons.

It's your fault! It's your fault!

“Donna, Donna!” a squeaky voice interrupted that horrible spectacle. It sounded like Angie, but I couldn't be sure. In my mind, I only saw your body falling apart, breaking into a thousand pieces. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer, I just pointed at your body with my finger. The doll climbed onto the bed, the bed I didn’t want to look at.

“What? What’s wrong with her?” the doll asked, with a confused voice.

Dead, dead, dead…

“Angie, (Y/N) is…” I murmured, swallowing my own tears, hitting the floor helplessly, furiously. I had to fall apart into a thousand pieces, not you.

“She’s what? She’s still asleep,” the doll said, getting off the bed to stand in front of me, tilting her head curiously.

“She, her body is…” I said in a low voice, making an effort to get up and dare to look at your broken body. It wasn't, you were still intact.

Your chest rose and fell calmly. Your expression wasn't cracked, but serene.

Confused and scared, I ran my hand over my sweaty forehead as I sat next to you, relieved to see that it had only been my imagination.

You will kill her, Donna… She saved your life, and you will kill her…

“Gods… (Y/N),” I said, resting my forehead against yours, keeping my face very close to yours.

“Are you okay?” Angie asked, suspecting what was the cause of my attitude.

“Yes, I…” I lied, moving away to let you breathe. “It, it was nothing.”

“Why don't you cut her throat and end her suffering?” Angie asked, with an amused tone. I stood up in surprise, grabbing the puppet by the neck.

“What did you just say?” I hissed as the doll struggled against my grip.

“Hey, let me go! I said why you don’t keep reading,” the puppet protested.

I let go, shaking my head, confused, overwhelmed by the situation.

I was losing my mind, and I knew it.

“Ugh, you need a break,” the doll said, comically shaking her dress. “And a shower, you stink.”

I closed my eye, breathing slowly, like my gardener, Josef, had taught me. It was true that I was a monster. That man was good, and I killed him.

“What I need is for her to come back…” I said sobbing, succumbing to crying again, squeezing your hand tightly, trying to beg you to come back to me.

“I miss her too,” Angie said, tenderly stroking your hair. Not even the fact that Angie acknowledged that she appreciated you was enough to reassure me.

“Please, (Y/N)… Please… Come back to me… Don’t, don't leave me alone, I need your light to get me out of this darkness…” I begged, squeezing your hand perhaps too tightly. The voices returned.

She will never come back to you, she never loved you. You will never feel her lips again. You will be left alone, with us, Donna, in the darkness where you belong.

Three, four days passed, or so I thought.

I lost track of time as well as I lost my mind. The voices were already a constant sound in my mind, the panic attacks, the hallucinations began to put you in danger. I decided not to get too close. My hands could turn against to you.

I kept repeating how much I needed you, how bad I felt without your comforting presence. You were my light, (Y/N), and you were fading away.

The weakness that my mind felt soon entered into harmony with that of my body. I was hungry, I knew it, I had to eat, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave you alone. I wanted to be with you, to cling to your unconscious body to feel that I wasn't lost, that there was still hope for me, and for you.

Exhausted, sitting on the floor against a wall, I closed my eyes tightly so as not to hear the voices that now asked me to leave everything, to abandon you, to abandon the life that was granted to me by the grace of Mother Miranda, that second chance that I didn't deserve.

She is like this because of you, you should die, Donna...

But no, I couldn't succumb to those requests. You needed me. You needed my care, for me to be by your side. You had saved my life, I couldn't abandon you, but neither could you.

“Don't you dare to leave me,” I sighed, my voice broken by crying, my weak body struggling to stay awake, in pain from the blows caused by the wounds caused by the crises.

My madness worsened as the hours passed. Reality, my own existence became something inexact. I didn't know when it was night, when it was day. There were no windows in that bedroom, you were always sleeping.

“Hey, hey, Donna,” a strange voice, which didn't come from my head, scared me, waking me from my exhaustion with some soft slaps on my face.

Cagna... She's coming to fuck her.

Ignoring the warning from my subconscious, I managed to make out my sister Alcina leaning over me.

“What...? What are you doing here?” I said, leaning on the wall so I could get up, ready to fight for you until the end. I didn't care if she was really there or it was another vision.

I was always jealous of my sister.

“You didn't come to the meeting. Miranda is asking for you,” the tall woman commented, walking sensually towards the bed. I couldn't move as fast as I wanted, and weakness made me stumble against the lady in white, who held me with her raised eyebrows.

“Vaffanculo…” I whispered, letting my sister guide me until I sat on the bed. “Get out.”

“You're a mess…” she murmured with disinterest, fixing my dress, almost torn by my own attacks. “How long has it been since you ate, dear? Not to mention how you stink…”

“I told you… to get lost…” I said furiously, pushing her with pathetic force. She just laughed, was she really there? “Porca puttana…”

“How vulgar…” Alcina laughed, holding me by the shoulder, dodging my furious attacks. “Aren't you supposed to take care of her?”

“I take care of her,” I said furiously, crossing my arms in a childish manner.

“Do you? I doubt you can take care of yourself, dear,” the lady in white mocked.

I growled again, guiding my gaze towards you, searching for your hand and grabbing it with the little strength I had left.

“Alcina… I'm…” I said calmer, relaxed by the softness of your skin. Maybe you were right and your hands were magic. “I'm losing my mind.”

“Oh, that's not new,” the vampire said, with a mocking expression.

 I ignored the comment, suppressing a sob.

“I feel, I feel that without her I…” I said with a broken voice, letting Alcina lay me down on the bed, next to you, sighing with pity.

“That's it, draga…” the big woman whispered, making sure I was comfortable. “You must stay strong, it's the best for (Y/N).”

“I don't, I don't know if I can do it… Alcina… I, I don't want to be alone, I want, I want her to come back,” I said, noticing how sleep attacked me again. At least when I was about to sleep, the voices didn't attack me.

“You must come back first, Donna,” my sister whispered, caressing my messy hair while covering me with a blanket. “(Y/N) needs you… Sleep, my sweet Donna…”

Those were the last words I heard before the darkness of my nightmares invaded me again.

Even today I still don't know if my sister's visit was real or if it was just a last breath of my sanity demanding me to come back, to force my demons to stay in a cage.

Three more days passed.

The voices continued to harass me, but something changed after that unexpected visit. My desire to fight my madness, to get you back, was much stronger. I even dared to accept the fruit that Angie brought me. Eating gave me strength, the softness of your hands kept the flame of hope alive.

“Actually I had always felt that way...” I read, like every day, another one of your favorite novels.

Miraculously, the voices that whispered horrible things to me no longer interrupted my words. I felt strong, or so I tried to show. With each passing day, the vision of the light of your smile became more blurred.

“…Without being able to explain why. I had never wanted to accept that life was so grey and indifferent, so without secrets or wonders as people pretended when they said…”

“That’s life…”

I read the end of that paragraph and nodded with a sigh. I soon realized something strange. No, it wasn't a horrible voice in my head. It wasn't Angie's voice that continued my reading.´

I dropped the book, let it fall loudly on the wood when I noticed something warm in my hand, yours, squeezing it tightly. Afraid that my mind would play tricks on me again, I closed my eye, opened it again and looked at your hand in mine, moving.

“Hello, darling…” a hoarse voice, broken by tiredness reached my ears, your voice, your angelic voice, your voice that came back to illuminate my dark path.

“(Y/N)…” I whispered, looking slowly into your bright eyes, half-closed but shining. “(Y/N)!”

I threw myself into your arms, burying my body in yours while my hand squeezed yours, to confirm that it hadn't been a dream. Not wanting to waste a second, I captured your lips in a kiss, crying with joy, crying for having you back, and scared in case it was just a dream.

“Hi… Hi…” you repeated, fighting against my gestures of affection, laughing weakly.

“Let her breathe, silly Donna!” Angie shrieked, pushing me away from you, jumping with joy on the bed. “You're back, you're back!”

“Yes, yes, it seems so…” you said coughing, in pain from the wound in your abdomen, trying to sit up, something I prevented.

“Don’t, don't move, you could... You could hurt yourself,” I said, playing nervously with your hair, with your hands, with everything that was within my reach.

“Hey...”

“Tell me, tesoro,” I said nervously, hoping to hear a request for water or food.

“I'm glad to see you again, Donna...”

“What are you talking about?” I asked confused, shaking my head. “(Y/N)... I'm, I'm the one who...”

“I told you a long time ago...” you sighed, exhausted, exhausted but awake. “That I would never abandon you...”

[seishinnookami]

chapter one; Yuu’s sibling!?

Twisted wonderland x Obey me

Yuu’s pronouns; They/ them for now

not on a canon time line

perspective: second “as they turned around.”

It was a warm day, the sun shining through the classroom windows, the teacher’s beloved voice calling out;

”Now, remember to only put one of these into your pot, unkess you want to end up covered in dust from head to toe!”

He warned, dropping the some sort of plant like ingredient into the potion, which glowed int a soft hue, barely visible in the light of the warm sun. Then the colour shifted into a mint green colour.

Yuu stood beside Deuce, nervously following after the instructions. They gently dropped it inside as professor Crewel showed. They let out a sigh when the colour changed into that pretty green. The tense atmosphere of danger Yuu has surround themselves with suddenly broke when the door of the classroom was bursted open.

“It is I~!”

The voice of the headmaster called out, smirking proudly as Crewel send him an unamused glance.

“Don’t worry, I’m only here for the Prefect!”

He trotted over to them, grabbing them by the wrist. 

“Because I am oh so gracious you have been excused this day to help me!” 

The headmaster said, dramatically as always. He turned around and pulled Yuu with himself, but as he did so, the rest of the ingredient fell from his hands, making them pale as they watched two more fall into the pot. 

“The potion-“ 

They tried to warn Deuce, only to Crowley to cut them off again. 

“Haha! Don’t worry about your potion!” 

He rushed them down the hallway, the sound of something blowing up could be heard, making Yuu more willing to follow the man than before. 

“So.. why do you need me exactly, headmaster?” 

They asked in an unsure manner, mostly because whenever Crowley needed them, they most certainly got into danger or almost killed. 

“Someone came appeared on school grounds, they have no magic, just like you! The mirror said that they have no where to return to, just like you! What a coincidence!” 

He laughed nervously, clearing his throat. 

“But why I called you is because I can’t talk to them, they are rambling on about something, shouting at me if I get too close. Even after I so kindly brought them in!” 

He huffed, raising his nose high, clearly offended, but he silently prayed the human didn’t cause too much trouble while he was away. 

“I hoped that you could talk to them, since you were once in the same place.” 

He finally explained why he dragged Yuu out, just as they reached the mirror’s gorgeous hall. 

As the doors opened, Yuu had found themselves watching an another human pacing up and down and just as Crowley said; angrily mumbling to themselves. 

“No! I did not survive those troublesome demons to get dragged- kidnapped AGAIN?! Haha! No way! I’m not going to start a new school, leave all things behind again?! I’m not going through that, AGAIN!” 

They huffed, stopping as they started to feel dizzy. Mc sighed, out of breath, turned towards the stupid bird man who dragged them inside. 

Their eyes land on Yuu. 

“… Yuu?” 

They whispered, eyes wide while a small droplet of tear cascades down their cheeks. They seemed to recognise Tuu, whispering their name in disbelief. Their eyes swam with a lot of emotion inside, some of them unrecognisable.  

Mc’s could help but step closer to the two, cheeks drenched in salty tears.

“I’m sorry.. do i know you?” 

Their step falters, eyes wide as they fall onto their knees. 

“W-what?” 

They sound lost, breathless and confused.

“Yuu? This isn’t funny!” 

Yuu looks apologetic, the person before them looked familiar, but they did not remember them. No matter how hard they tried, there was no memory. They was hit by a sense of longing, missing this person. But there was no reason for them to feel like this. 

This person was a stranger, right?

“Yuu! It’s me, (om)y/n!”

They cried out, hoping this was all just a cruel joke.

“I-i am truly sorry, but I don’t know you.”

Yuu repeated, their voice sounding empty in the air against the cries of the stranger front of them.

they felt sorry for the stranger, how did they knew they name?

they was confused, the sunny day that they had woken up to no longer looking so sweet, seeing the broken person before them. Maybe they wasn’t the one they was looking for? They knew the feeling of stress of the unknown, being woken up in a coffin isn’t funny. They thought about it for a moment, maybe they did know them, but they don’t remember anything from the time before getting here…

the soft steps of Yuu’s shoe could be heard as it echoed through the hall. It danced with the echo of the stranger’s sobs, almost like a dark lullaby, trying to lull someone to eternal sleep.

“I may not know you…”

they whispered, kneeling down before the broken looking body of trembling sobs . Who looked up at them with- lashes sticking together from their tears. (-their skin sparkling with the salty, sad liquid) [< for those who don’t have hair]

“But.. could you tell me who you are? To me?”

“I’m your sibling..”

They answered softly, as their eyes met, Crowley silently made a comment to himself, their eyes were the same shade of colour. The stranger’s uniform was unknown to him, trying to locate any school that had similar uniform.

Yuu was surprised by their answer, their eyes wide in confusion. They did look.. familiar, almost identical.

“… I’m sorry for not remembering you…”

“Why?… Why don’t you remember?”

They questioned whether this was even real, finding their sibling, only for them to not remember.

“I don’t remember anything that happened before coming here..”

Yuu revealed, sighing as they was about to explain, Crowley’s loud voice cut throughout the soft, broken atmosphere that settled on the two siblings.

“You can all talk this out at Ramshackle!”

he decided, grabbing both, which earned him a slap on the hand from MC. Giving him a glare that said “touch me and i’ll bite off your hand.”

Crowley quickly backed off, not liking this more feral version of Yuu. He cleared his throat, putting a hand over his chest, the other onto his hip.

“Because i’m so kind, i’ll let you, an another magicless human stay here! Aren’t I just the best?”

He laughed, turning around and walking away while singing praises to himself.

“Yeah, the best at being the worse… He’s like a worse version of Mammon…”

Mc mumbles, making Yuu chuckle softly. “You’ll get used to it after a while. C’mon, i’ll being you to your dormitory.. if you can call it that.” “Oh dear…”

Yuu chuckled, standing up and offering a hand down to them. “Shall we?”

they looked at their hand, a soft smile edging onto their lips. “You haven’t changed a bit..”

they chuckle, putting their hand into Yuu’s palm.

“We shall.”

With that, the story of the two siblings have begin..

(This is a small part because this is more of a starter than anything. Never the less, i hope you enjoyed it, Reader!)

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 16: ~

A Series of Phone Calls:

Sorry Finlay, but the Queen has arrived This is really two chapters in one, because they'd be way too short otherwise.

TW: Mention of divorce.

Part 17:

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

'Come on. Pick up. Please pick up.'

Ring. Ring.

Ring r-

'Hello?'

'Suze?!'

'Caz?! I...Jesus. A little late, isn't it? No need to go bellowing down the phone at me.' There was a pause. Caz was at a loss for words. She answered. He was hearing Suze's voice. Nothing artificial from The Shape that tried to lure him in. But, from Suze's perspective, Caz was breathing heavily down the phone. 'Caz? Hello?' Her voice slapped him out of his daze.

'M-Maybe.' His voice was breathless. How he missed her. 'Sorry about that.' Caz's grip on the phone tightened. He didn't want to let go. Ever since he arrived on The Beria, he wanted to be back in her arms, but he knew it was for the best. 'Look, I, er.' Be brave. For Suze. Be brave. 'I want you to come and see me.'

'What?' A small chuff echoed through the phone. 'All the way out in the middle of the North Sea?'

'No. No. I'm on the mainland now.'

'W-What?' Naturally, she was at a loss for words. 'When did you-'

'Only a few hours ago.' A small lie. Depends if you count six hours ago as a few or several. 'Something happened to The Beria, and we had to evacuate. Lost a few good men, but we're back.'

'Something? What's 'something' C- Wait. Lost?' Panic began to rise in Suze's voice. It took her a moment to register what he had just said. She just replied as if she was on autopilot. 'People died? Is Roy with you?'

'Yeah. Yeah. Big man's safe and sound with us.' He managed a light chuckle. He didn't know it, but Suze had also tightened her grip on the phone. She was so happy to finally hear his voice again. All the anger she had built up since August just vanished, replaced with all the good memories flooding into her brain and making her heart skip a beat. Her finger wrapped around the cord. 'How are you and the weans?'

'We're okay. Christmas didn't feel the same without you. Ma had to make a fool of herself, though. Bloody forgot to put the handbrake on.'

'We need to sell that old banger.

'Aye. Her and all, too.' The pair shared a laugh. Something they haven't done for a while. It was good.

'How are you, Caz? You sound...' Suze paused to find the right word. 'Different.'

'Well, being on a rickety oil rig in the middle of the North Sea will do that to ya. I'm fine, though, really. Made some new friends out there. You'd like them.'

'Are they with you now?'

'Some are. Most went home.' Suze frowned. That wasn't the right thing to say. The anger didn't return, but small specks of frustration did. Still, she gave Caz the benefit of the doubt.

'Then, why aren't you coming home?'

'I will be, but first, I want you and the girls to come here.'

And where's 'here?''

'Braemar'

'What the hell are you doing all the way out in Brae-'

'Please, Suze. I can't hog the phone for much longer. Just please. Bring the girls here. I'll give the address. Please?' Silence. Caz's heart dropped. His foot began to tap, and he bit his lower lip. How could he have possibly made their situation worse? Did she not believe him? Then again, he can't blame her. She hadn't hung up the phone, but had he lost signal? Was she actually talking to him, and he didn't know? 'Suze?'

'Alright, Caz. Give me the address.' Her voice was one of defeat, but Caz had hope. It's all that kept him going. Might be the only thing that kept him from turning.

'Trust me, Suze. All will be explained when you see us.' A pause. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too.'

Well, it could have been better. Caz knew he had been brave, but he would be a fool if he didn't feel some tension. As for Suze, she hunched over and covered her mouth when she hung up the phone, not knowing if she'll cry or scream until the windows shattered. Maybe both. She was still angry. Her emotions were a hurricane residing in her stomach that she tried to control. Nothing was easy anymore. She was tried. So tired. Her eyes were still heavy. Slowly, Suze controlled her breathing and stood up straight with a long sigh.

'Right,' she muttered. 'Okay.' Then, a small smile graced her face. 'Silly sod.' Once again, the good memories came back. With the living area of the flat being open planned, she turned to the cheap kitchen table, where a brown file containing the crisp divorce papers lay in wait. They'd been there since last Monday. Dust had gathered. Now, the question was, will Suze leave them to collect more?

Caz exhaled all the air in his lungs. He felt better, but at the same time, he wished he could just deflat like a balloon. Roy had been listening the entire time from the stairs. 'So, how did it go?'

'I dunno, Roy,' he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Caz often did that when he was either indecisive or stressed. 'Good. I think? Do you want to call anyone?'

'Nah. I'm gonna sleep, but,' Roy nodded to the front door. 'I think they'll want to speak to someone.'

'Aye.' Caz turned and walked down the corridor. 'Alright.' He opened the door. 'Who wants to use...' Nothing else needed to be said. Everyone was huddled on the porch, waiting for their turn, except for Innes and Muir. Seems no one could decide on who could go first. The infected, except Trots, couldn't fit inside, yet they kept Raffs, Brodie, and O'Connor from reaching the entrance. Poor buggers were freezing, unlike the infected. The cold didn't affect them. Another small positive from The Shape. Caz sighed at the sight. Good to know he was working with children the entire time. 'We go alphabetically. Addair, you're first.' And guess who was going to be the handler?

Caz turned around whilst Addair tried to get inside. The keyword is 'try,' because Caz instantly shoved him back out when he knocked over a picture. Just like with Bernard, he quickly realised this was going to be a long night. The method was simple; give Caz their number, he dails it, and gives the phone to whoever.

The calls were like clockwork. Just like him, everyone asked for their loved ones name in surprise before sighing in relief and explaining what happened without the infected telling them that they'd been turned into fleshy blobs. Then, they invite them all to the farm. Addair. Gibbo. Ren-

'Not answering?'

'Eh,' Rennick motioned something akin to a shrug. 'My son travels for work. I'll try again later.'

O'Connor, Trots, and finally Raffs, who told his mum he and Brodie will be home soon. Brodie went last, and that was just to get in touch with the train station to figure out when was the best time and day to get back to Skye.

When all was said and done, Caz took himself to the sofa he was given as his bed and instantly crashed, along with Trots, who took the armchair and leg rest. Which was ironic. Neither slept well last night, but now, both could finally breathe. Everyone else soon followed.

Where was Muir's family during all this?

Muir had brought his parents and brothers to the furthest point of the garden. He cradled a now sleeping Grace and Bonnie in his arms whilst Innes leaned against the fence. It was late, but he wanted to tell them because he wasn't going to be subtle. He's done that enough. 'Okay. Everyone. I need to tell you something. I'm...I-I...' He glanced to Innes, who smiled and nodded in return. That gave Muir the confidence he needed. 'I'm gay. I like men, and I have since I understood what that meant.' He shuffled back and forth between his crab-like legs. 'And Innes here is the one I want to spend my life with. Dad, you said you'd never stop loving me, and I hope this doesn't change anything.'

'WHAT?!' Harris yelled. Muir retracted for a moment before it clicked that Harris was being sarcastic.

'Oh no,' Angus continued with equal sarcasm. 'Ewan's gay? Jesus Christ. Who could have guessed?'

'Okay, I get it,' Muir mumbled. He stared at Innes when he heard him trying not to laugh.

'We've all known for years.'

'The only girl you've dated was Ivy Bradshaw from year 6.' Of course, Harris continued his life goal of being the little shit sibling.

'Yes, thank you, 'arris.' Muir could feel the blood rush to his cheeks.

'And, you didn't dance with anyone at either of our weddings. Instead, you were eyeing up the bar - Either out to desperation or just get one over on Harris, Muir quickly slapped a tendril over his mouth.

'S-Shut up!' Sadly, being red in the face and hissing through his teeth, just gave his younger brother the motivation to keep going through heavy muffles.

'Harris!' Fiona snapped. Nothing else needed to be said. She had that stern look in her eyes that even made Harris, a thirty-three year old man, stop whatever shit he was pulling. Muir still kept his mouth covered.

'Ewan,' Logan began. 'You've been turned into a five meter tall hermit crab. Even if we didn't know, do you think we care?'

'W-Well, that's a relief.' Muir glanced to his mum, who was just smiling. He returned the smile. Now, all the weight had gone from his shoulders. Innes stepped forward and held his hand out for Muir to take.

'Now, can we go inside, please? It's freezing out here.' Gently, Harris, now free from Muir, and Angus took their daughters and began to walk back to the house. Fiona approached and kissed her son on the cheek before looking to Innes.

'You look after him, okay?'

'I promise, mam. He won't be leaving my sight.'

'I think that's impossible.' And cue Muir literally buring his head in the snow. A low groan could be heard, causing the pair to snicker. He was always easy to embarrass. Fiona found it cute whilst Innes just mentally jotted that this was payback for nearly taking his head off with the piping. 'Well, goodnight, you two.' They had given Innes a bed, but it was obvious he wasn't going to be there.

He knelt beside Muir and gave him a pat on the exposed flesh from the helmet. 'Proud of you, ya big lug.' A tendril wrapped around his waist, yet Muir still kept hidden under the snow. He'll come out when his cheeks stop being red.

[momokarp]

Heyyyy I saw your Danny Phantom comic about him reading the Great Gatsby during the fight with Vlad (great art btw), and I was wondering if u could give a long-suffering student a rundown of the themes?

I’m gonna cover the themes I can think of off the top of my head and if you really need me to go into more details, I CAN??? But this is just a quick “it’s 7 in the morning for me and I’m actually gonna hyperfixate real quick” kinda moment.

Yes, there are two kinds of rich people, and yes, one side really doesn’t like the other. It’s apparent in Tom and all of his opinions of Gatsby are later on in the book when he finally attends one of his fancy parties.

Old money gets their opinions and styles and tastes from their parents who got it from their parents. It’s a boys club, if you’re in? You’re in, and it’s hard to get in unless you’re of a certain pedigree.

New money? Loud. Outrageous. Doesn’t even know what to do with all that money and everyone is welcome to enjoy it. Gatsby owns a BRIGHT ASS YELLOW CAR not because it’s of a certain model but because it screams loud and expensive and “look at me” and it’s not just cause he’s trying to get with your wife. He knows how to ACT like old money, to a certain degree, but at the end of the day, he can’t hide that he wasn’t born into it.

An unreliable narrator is usually a story told from a first person point of view and their own biases can often warp the reader’s perspective on the events unfolding. Nick even tries to clarify that he doesn’t judge people. Yeah, OUT LOUD, but he’s judging internally. Which is making you, the reader, judge. Tom has an affair with Myrtle Wilson. Nick IS quietly judging them although he tries not to and how could he not? Daisy is his cousin, and he sees the man she’s married make her move away from Chicago and Tom is not hiding his affair very well, she clearly knows about it and hates it.

Oh but here comes Gatsby, with this beautiful story of how he fell in love and went to war and couldn’t be with her and came back and she’s MARRIED and now he’s trying to win her back- and Nick HELPS HIM. THAT’S NOT UNBIASED. HE IS SWAYED. He sides with Gatsby through and through, even when he starts to see the flaws in Gatsby’s vision, he wants to cheer for him.

We’re going back to the green light here for a minute. Gatsby gets a house DIRECTLY ACROSS the lake from where Daisy’s is. There’s the green light at the end of her dock that flashes, that’s a reminder to Gatsby when he looks out that his dream is just over there. Daisy, the perfect gal, along with acceptance into the fancy rich lifestyle. He wants to meet her parents, he wants to have kids with her, he wants to be a somebody, an established respectable person.

But he’s kind of fooling himself too. He wants too much. It’s not enough to have Daisy, she needs to RENOUNCE her ever loving Tom and then properly marry him. He wants to be a part of the boy’s club, but Tom finds out that he has gained his wealth through the mafia and that’s not very respectable! He wants Daisy to call him in the morning, a call that never comes because she won’t cast aside her lifestyle for him. She was raised to trust and live in the sheltered life she was brought up in, even if she’s unhappy. It’s safer than the unknown. She chooses to stay with Tom, as even she realizes she can’t live up to Gatsby’s ideals.

It’s ironic cause this is the Oxford English Dictionary definition and Gatsby is an “Oxford Man!” Not only has Gatsby idealized on the American Dream, but it’s a dream that was never real. Yes, he did get rich, but not because he had equal opportunities. He got lucky to help out an old rich man on his boat (WHICH HE DIDNT EVEN GET ANY MONEY FROM) to learn the rich social skills, and he worked with the mafia to get all his wealth. Yes, he got Daisy, but not REALLY. He had an affair with her. They didn’t marry properly, didn’t have kids, didn’t move in together. And Daisy never intended on doing any of these things. She wanted to run away.

And Gatsby was never going to get these things because he wasn’t BORN rich. Tom represents the concept of Old Money so well not only in how he lacks any genuine character that isn’t inherited from his father, but how protective he is of keeping the status quo, so that he remains in power and no one who doesn’t fit the club can come in.

And Gatsby pays the price of his affair while Tom gets away with everything. How is this the American Dream? It isn’t.

Okay, that’s my stuff. I can go into symbolism on the yellow car and big billboard and all that other stuff if this was helpful at all. I hope it is helpful???

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

From One Master to Another

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Gordon Ramsay isn't a classically trained pastry chef; he knows the savory, not the sweet. This time, the coursework involves instruction in desserts--and he'll find that he has just as much to learn as his students, Vil and Jack, do. I conducted a lot of research for this installment (reading articles on how to ice cakes + the science behind macarons, and, of course, watching videos where GR gets humbled and learns from fellow culinary masters). It provided me with a fresh perspective to write from~

Imagine this...

"... Jack."

"Yes, Vil-senpai?"

"What exactly am I looking at?"

Several countertops were covered in baking trays. Sugar circles sat upon waxy sheets, some collapsed and thinned out like wafers, others risen then caved in and cracked. It was an array of imperfections spanning the muted colors of the rainbow.

Jack clasped his hands behind his back, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable urge to itch the ears tucked under his hat, or to tear away the tangle of hair net containing his tail. His chef's jacket seemed to be straining to contain the entire bulk of him.

"Macarons," Jack reported.

Vil lifted a brow.

"... Er, at least they're supposed to be macarons," his underclassman awkwardly clarified.

Vil granted him a look of sympathy. "The poor things."

"W-Well, how did you do with your assignment?!" Jack stammered, eager to shift the subject. He glanced to Vil's table.

Lips pursed.

The model had gone with a light wash of makeup, simply a neutral brown gradient on his lids. His hair was arranged in a tight, tidy bun, flaxen bangs pinned back. Vil presented almost as flawless as a mirror's face—but certainly his cake didn't.

It was two layers tall (Jack had watched him saw and shape them earlier), stacked upon each other with a layer of buttercream sandwiched between them. The cake was starting to slope, as if in a desperate attempt to crawl to the exit. A coat of uneven chocolate frosting had hardened, forming odd peaks and lumps in a crust.

“That’s pretty rough.” Vil bristled at the words—sparse, yet biting. Jack continued. “How many cakes does this make, four?”

The question, unintentional needling.

“Seven,” Vil begrudgingly corrected him. Then, a small smirk formed. “And yourself? How many batches of macarons does this make?”

“Urk…!” Jack’s ears flattened, his bushy tail limp. “I guess we could both use more practice…”

“Jesus.”

The curse was spoken in a hissing whisper, emerging from neither from Vil nor Jack. It came from their teacher, an older man with weathered features—the result of wisdom and stress. He had been perched off to the side, observing his students’ skills in action, his frown seemingly ever extending as the mistakes piled up.

“Right then, maybe this isn’t working out,” Gordon Ramsay muttered, his eyes passing over a macaron graveyard and the crumbling cake mountains.

Not for lack of trying.

“Chef!” Jack immediately stood at attention. “We did our best to follow your instructions.”

“As you can see, the results were not particularly fruitful,” Vil chimed in. “We could do with additional instruction.”

Gordon startled, gaping at them. “Wait, you two want me to teach you more? You’re willing to listen?”

“Yessir!! Please guide us.”

“It’s as Jack says. We are here to learn and to enhance our culinary skillsets. We shouldn’t dawdle.” Vil narrowed his eyes. “Why do you act so surprised?”

“Can’t say this has happened very often.” Gordon stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The last time I had a pair of students this cooperative was months ago.”

“Just what exactly have the other Culinary Crucibles students put you through?” Vil angrily planted his hands on his hips. “Were Epel and Rook being disrespectful?"

Jack hesitated not wishing to speak ill of his Savanaclaw seniors. Still, it was easy for his mind to conjure the image of Ruggie swiping leftovers when no one was looking—“Free food is free food!”—and Leona yawning, mentally checked out of the situation.

"It's not hard to imagine," Jack confessed.

"They'll be getting an earful from me later!"

"Hmph, kids will be kids. I've dealt with cocky adults double their age or older acting like bigger babies. What's important is that they walked out of my kitchen better than when they first walked in."

Gordon leaned against a counter and folded his arms. Air escaped through his teeth. “Boys, I’ll be straight with you. Sweets, baking—it isn’t my specialty. I could try and teach you all bloody day and we'd still get nowhere."

“Are you serious?” Jack frowned. “So that means…”

"What I've already shown you is all I've picked up from experts back home. We've hit the ceiling."

“This can’t be!” Vil reeled, looking vaguely appalled. “If it’s come to this, then how will we possibly improve our craft?"

"I don't know."

I've never been in a kitchen where I haven't been in control.

"This is a fucking mess," Gordon groaned. I've failed my students.

“What’s with all the doom and gloom?”

Gordon bolted upright at the sudden voice.

A plump ghost manifested, suited up in a chef's jacket and hat. His face was as puffy as a marshmallows, and his belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly.

The head chef at Night Raven College.

"You fellas look like you've seen a ghost," he joked. "But never mind that. I noticed you’ve been standing around and being sad for a while now.”

“Right, that—” Gordon exchanged an anxious look with his students. He fumbled for an explanation, but didn’t have to.

“Oh my! Did you make these?” the ghost chef indicated the macarons and cakes. They were hard to miss. “Brave of you to start off with such finicky things. All in all, they’re not bad attempts."

"They're not?"

The ghost chuckled. “Of course not. How many times do you think a pastry chef muddles macarons or ices a cake incorrectly before it’s passable? It’s one part skill, one part practice, and one part learning as you go. Here, let me show you some tips and tricks I picked up myself.”

Vil, Jack—and even Gordon himself—watched in silent awe as the ghost chef went about his work.

Ingredients were effortlessly measured and sifter into a bowl (“Keeps it free of lumps!”), then whipped egg whites carefully folded into the batter. “You want stiff peaks for the whites, and minimum folding to get it incorporated!” Once the macarons were piped onto a sheet, the chef picked up the tray and slammed it down several times—“To scare off the air bubbles.”

The batch of macarons was slid into a waiting oven, and he started on his next task.

Into a stand mixer went several sticks of butter. The machine came to life, whipping the fats well.

“Traditional buttercream forms a crust over time,” the ghost chef explained. “That gets gritty and unpleasant! So here’s an alternate version that doesn’t crust. It’s less sweet, but still stable, easy to work with.“

He lifted a bottle and tipped its contents into the aerated butter. Transparent syrup fell in thick rivulets, and he grinned. Powdered sugar followed, visible only for seconds before it disappeared into the gathering frosting.

“The secret is light corn syrup. Using dissolved sugar instead of powdered makes the frosting smooth and stops it from hardening. Adds a fine luster to the frosting too!”

Using a spatula, he spooned the fresh buttercream into a piping bag and handed it off to Vil. “Scrape the stuff that’s on your cakes off and try again with this,” the ghost encouraged. “Should work like a dream!”

“Thank you,” Vil said, a little bewildered by the heft of the piping bag. “I will show you a beautiful dessert by yours truly.”

“Looking forward to it.”

DING!

The oven’s timer went off.

“That’s 13 minutes! Howl-kun, can you get the macarons?” called the ghost.

“Yes, Chef! I’m on it!” Jack, in a pair of heat-resistant mitts, marched to the oven and reached inside. He produced a tray of perfect pink domes, a cloud of ruffles—the macaron’s feet—at their bases. “Whoa.”

“A nice filling and they’ll be good to go. You’ve got it covered?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Good, good. Let us know if you need any help though, alright? That’s what your teachers are here for.”

Jack nodded, then retreated to his station. While the macarons cooled, he chopped white chocolate and tossed it into a pan with heavy cream. Moments later, they had melded into a rich ganache, sweetness hanging in a heavy cloud about it. One scoop was enough for a pair of shells, lightly pressed together.

Beside his junior, Vil was hard at work redoing a cake. His stand was set spinning, a bench scraper aligned to comb and smooth out the dollops of frosting he had painted along the sides. The cake was a blank white canvas, and Vil, the artist.

Sparks in their eyes, faces bright with the glow of determination.

“Incredible,” Gordon breathed, staring after the duo. He turned back to the head chef. “You made it look so easy.”

The ghost chef laughed and contentedly patted his stomach. “I’ve had my whole life and afterlife to master the skills!”

“No kidding. You saved my ass back there.”

And more importantly, he’s actually got the kids motivated again.

“You’re the one that’s helped us out a lot, Ramsay-kun. The kitchen is so short-staffed with so many students wanting to take the Culinary Crucibles elective this year. You took some of the instruction off of our hands. This is the very least I can do to return the favor.”

The head chef smiled. “Don’t forget, you can always call on us if you ever need help.”

“That right? Then I guess you wouldn’t mind helping me out with one more thing today.”

“Mm, what’s that?”

Gordon rolled up his sleeves, a newfound fire in his expression. “Please teach me too.”

“Huh?! You want me to teach you?”

“I’m as much of a student as they are—and I’d be honored to learn from a chef of your caliber.”

“Ramsay-kun…” The ghost teared up. “Oh, how could I refuse? I’d be happy to!! Go on now, get your own station set up and we can get started immediately.”

The creases in Gordon’s face lifted. His response, hearty and joyful.

“Yes, Chef!”

Vil glanced up from his cake. “… Are my eyes and ears deceiving me?”

“They aren’t.” Jack’s brows lifted. “I’m seeing and hearing it too.”

“It’s not so shocking,” Gordon grunted. “This is a school. We’re here to learn new skills and techniques—doesn’t matter if we’re student or teacher.“

“Fufufu,” Vil chuckled to himself. “Well, aren’t you humble?”

“Heh.” Jack found himself fighting to keep down a small smile. “I can respect that. Nothing wrong with a guy lookin’ to improve himself.”

“That makes three of us.”

We’re not that different at our very cores. Stubborn fools with dreams and aspirations of achieving something greater. For ourselves, for the ones around us.

The ghost chef clapped his doughy hands. “Isn’t this so exciting, class? We’re embarking on a culinary journey together! I hope you’re ready, because I sure am!”

They replied in unison, hearts united:

“Ready when you are, Chef!”

[sea-of-dust]

Making chocolate for Lyney!

N:I had an idea to wrote catching yugioh protags at a part time job. Might finally fix that yugioh hole in my ml

Event link here

Running around Fontaine without him attached to your hip was hard enough, but trying to hide something too? He's gonna make a GREAT plot for drama. The markets lights bright enough to keep you awake dim enough to not burn them entirely. Buying the ingredients were quite easy, if you would have gone in the morning he would have known the very instant he saw what you bought, maybe even just knowing where your going, he'd make it aggressively obvious he knew too. This was a surpise he's not going to rub your cheek and smirk while stating how much he adores you. Flirting and neck/cheek kisses will not make chocolate!!

He'd 100% get giddy noticing you make chocolate, that's probably when he'd get the most chaotic, in the kitchen of all places. "It smells of chocolate you don't happen to be making any?" "Whaaatt totally not what?" You try to block it from his view even when he moves perspective. "It's obvious it's there" smirking he jokingly reaches for it. "Nooo, it's not" "hehe" without a sweat, he kisses your cheek. "Thank you." "for what?" Your mind officially going blank "for making me chocolate" he kisses you again "you and I both know it's not for you" "and if it is?" "Then you wouldn't be making so much of an effort to hide it" Your heart skipped a beat from how well he knew you. "You'll get them when they're done..." smirking he kisses your neck "I know they'll be amazing" you know he'd never let you finish those choclates without a pickup line or god forbid getting the urge to cuddle right in the middle of making them.

The daytime nightmare of your boyfriend knocked you out almost as soon as you saw your bed after putting away groceries. He WILL be the first thing you see outside your door. "Y/n!" He tries to peak through your peep hole. Unfortunately, there's no such thing as a reverse peep hole, unable to see anything he waits by the door, as soon as you open it his eyes light up as if filled with energy. "Just intime ma chérie, I was wondering if you'd like to run some errands with me" "oh" rubbing the back of your neck trembling before your next words "I'm a bit busy today" "that's unfortunate, maybe next time then" "I'll make sure of it" you kiss his cheek before waving your goodbyes and closing the door. You knew it would have bothered him for the rest of the day if that kiss wasn't there to soften the blow

Trying to read the instructions the clerk had given you, you got to work, melting,mixing, and pouring into chocolate molds, using your cryo vision to freeze the chocolate after being molded. After that, you prepare the box, using the jumbled decor, you decorate the inside of the box, then the outside. When the chocolate finally solidifies you take it out the ice and wrap them in individually

When the day came, you had to hype yourself up, a bit nervous he might outwardly dislike it, you gulp, going into one of his shows. As soon as you appear in the crowd you, he smiles widely, his glare softens seeing your bashful face amongst the crowd. As soon as the show starts, he does his usual tricks, ones you've seen and almost have gotten to know how he does them, yet are still amazed by eatch sight. Near the end of the show the crowd seemed to almost take a bit of the street despite them not being that close to it. Gracefully he pulls out cards "we've had fun dear audience but I'm afraid I must go" the crowd simultaneously awies in disappointment "not to worry I'm sure we'll meet again" cards suddenly fly in the air disappearing the magician and his assistant, a card landing near you with his face printed on it. "Hold that box tight" holding it tightly suddenly, you feet a tug at your waist, the runaway magican dragging you away with him. "I'm sorry I couldn't go with you yesterday" "No worries" gripping the choclates tighter you interlock the hand on your waist with your own letting yourself run with him. "Sometimes I wish I can go into those cards" "only magicians can ma chérie" "Lynettes tea cup can do magic?" he laughs loudly "that's not what I ment"

As soon as you guys stop, you hand him the box. "They may be a little crushed but" swallowing down you look at him with frail confidence "this is for you" huffing a bit he opens the box, fidgeting with your fingers, you watch him twirl a piece in his hand "what's this?" "Choclate" your mind races with what ifs what if he says he hates chocolate, what if him and Lynette judge you for the rest of time? You watch him take off the wrapper, slowly popping it into his mouth. You try not to look at him as he does, afraid it might be so bad he physically repluses. Without hearing a thing, you feel chocolate trace your lips. "They taste amazing ma chérie, thank you" without giving it much thought he kisses your newly chocolate flavored lips "I'll have to try my hand at this one day" he kisses you again "we should cook together too" lazily wrapping his arms around your neck you point to Lynette calmly ignoring the whole thing. "We should make these together next time, you might be able to catch me grocery shopping" you tease pulling his hat to cover his eyes.