#this is my current state as I watch destined with you

[incandescentflower]

Trying to catch up to shows that have already aired or are airing is such an exercise in restraint for me. I'm having feelings! I want to see gifs and read comments! but also not be spoiled.

Alas, I cannot simply upload the whole thing to my brain.

[vitaminkyeom]

telephone || k.mg

“NOW IT'S TIME FOR ME TO RETURN THE FAVOUR”

PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader

GENRES || Horror, 911 Operator!Mingyu, Romance

SUMMARY ||  Working the night shift as a 911 operator was hard as it is and the last thing Mingyu needed was those calls from his ex-girlfriend. Whom he had not seen in years. For obvious reasons of her being dead.

Or, in which, Mingyu kept getting calls from his ex girlfriend claiming that she had murdered him.

SERIES MASTERLIST || till death do us part

WARNINGS || inaccurate 911 stuff, description of murdered body, horror, mention of murder and ghost

WORD COUNT || 3k

A/N || If you recognise this story, no you don't. but anyways this was one of my most favourite works even though i'm not that great at writing horror so i'm really glad i'm starting off with this story for the series. i've tried my best to make it as scary as i could (sorry but im a pussy) so yeah any feedback would be really helpful!

TAGLIST || @monamipencil @nonuify @black-swan-blog27 @hipsdofangirl @wonuilu @kibs-and-bits @unlikelysublimekryptonite @gyuguys @hanicore @alyssng @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @nonononranghaee @hoichi02 @cheolsboo @dinossaurz @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @hoeforcheol @kawennote09 @iamawkwardandshy @winterbeartaehyungbestboy ​ @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile @mansaaay [if you want to be added to my taglist please fill in this form!]

“911, please state your emergency.”

Static. He waited for a minute more but there still wasn’t any sound coming from the other side.

Mingyu sighed exasperatedly, sure that this was another prank call. Halloween night was looming close which also meant teenagers found it funny to call the operators up at night to scare them.

But he was used to this. Which was funny because Mingyu was the biggest scaredy cat in his group and could not even watch Scooby Doo without whimpering at least once. But he took his responsibilities very seriously and there was no way he was going to let his fear come in the middle of his work.

He was about to hang up the call when he heard a sound. Immediately he jerked back the phone to his ear and strained them to hear anything, but all he could hear was a buzzing sound.

“Hello? How can I help-”

“Help.”

He inhaled sharply, the woman’s raspy voice very clear in the empty office. Mingyu was the only one serving night shift in his floor currently, and the only thing accompanying him was the soft beeping on the seven screens in front of him and the buzzing of the fluorescent tube lights above him.

“Ma'am, are you in a position to tell me what is happening?”

His fingers flew across the keyboard, noting down the number first and then quickly texting the other department to find out the location of the call.

“Pl-please help. Make him stop.” The woman whispered,  her ragged breath harsh against his ears.

“Make whom stop? Can you tell me who is near to you, ma’am?”

Mingyu felt an unnatural calmness settle into his bones, one that always came whenever he forced himself to calm down in such situations.

A message dinged on one of his screens indicating that they had traced the nearest cell tower of the cell phone.

“Officer Lee.” He said, already on the other line, talking to the nearest official he could see. “We have a 911 emergency of abuse.”

“Roger that. Address?”

“It's…” Mingyu’s voice trailed off on seeing the address. 

No way- How was that possible? There had to be some mistake right?

Because the address was of his house.

He cleared his throat, sure that the address was wrong since they tracked the nearest cell tower, and that could be kilometres away from the destination.

“Uh, the address shows my house. I… I think you need to be on the lookout for areas near my house.”

There was a pause, as though Seokmin seemed to be trying to process this information. Seokmin had been good friends with him, so Mingyu knew that even he found it odd, especially when his neighbourhood was a safe and nice one.

“On my way.”

“Ma’am,” Mingyu said, back to line one, “if you could tell me your name or your address, or even what is happening to you, I could help you out better.”

His eyes were trained to look at all the monitors at once, one monitoring the small dot that represented Seokmin heading towards the destination, another with a blank form about the caller and another one where he was rapidly typing what he was hearing, ready to call in other emergencies in case he heard something important.

“Help! Why don’t you help me? Please help!”

“Ma’am help is on the way, please calm down-”

He was interrupted by a loud pop as all the lights went out, the only source of light now being the soft glow of his computer screens. The room was now lit up eerily and he felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise up. Mingyu wasn’t very scared of the dark ever, but the growing sounds of gurgling and growling in the telephone line was causing shivers to travel down his spine.

“Mingyu…” The woman rasped, this time sounding like she had gargled razors, her screeching voice turning his blood to ice.

How did she know his name?

Goosebumps rose all over his skin as his breathing came out in sudden pants, feeling an icy invisible hand wrap around his neck. He sucked in a breath harshly and with a jolt, he realised how lonely he was, not a single soul on his floor whilst he was plunged in darkness.

Then the call cut off abruptly, and at the same time, the power surged back to life. 

Yet, the cold feeling hadn’t left Mingyu as though he could still hear the woman gargling in his ear.

“Mingyu?”

He jerked as the second line suddenly came to life, Seokmin’s voice clear through the landline.

“H-Hey. Did you find anything?” He tried his level best not to sound shaken, but it was hard because the more he tried to ignore wherever had just happened, the more the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach grew.

“Nothing. We will be needing to get a more specific address. Your entire apartment seems safe to me. Is she still on the line?”

Mingyu exhaled harshly, rubbing his chest with his hand to calm down his heart that was beating too fast. He then realised how dry his throat had become, and quickly took a sip of water before continuing.

“No. She cut the call. I- uh, I don’t think she needs help anymore. She sounded alright at the end.” He said, wincing having to lie. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling of horror he had felt when he saw his own address flash on to the screen.

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we follow the protocol still-”

“She told me so herself.” Mingyu snapped, and Seokmin shut up, not saying anything more.

He sighed, rubbing his template, trying to forget what he had just heard. But it was like the noise had been ingrained into his brain. He could hear it even now, even though there were many other small sounds beside him.

But being a 911 operator, there was bound to be such horrors, right? He had heard some similar stories of ghost calls from his superiors. Maybe this was one of them?

“Well then…I suppose that’s it huh?” Seokmin cut the silence, causing Mingyu to flinch as he jumped out of his thoughts. “Are you calling it a night?”

Mingyu felt his heart leap to his throat.

Calling it a night? On any other day, he would have loved to crash on to his bed but all of a sudden going back to his house, the place where this lady claimed to be at, seemed like a distant nightmare, something which was waiting for him to tear him apart.

“Uh, n-no. I’ll continue my shift I think. Besides, Seungcheol won’t wake up if I call him now.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokmin asked, concern lacing his voice. “You sound…scared.”

“I’m fine.” Mingyu swallowed thickly, feeling a patch of sweat that had formed on his forehead as he tried rubbing his temples.

“We’ve dealt with these before, right?” Seokmin asked again, trying to sound bolder for his sake.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. We have. I’ll… hang up now.”

As soon as the phone went down, Mingyu buried his face in his hands, trying to forget the horrible sounds he had heard on the phone.

But the more he tried to forget them, the more he was convinced that they were no more voices in his head, but were coming from the room. It was almost like he could hear the noise coming from behind the door.

I’m probably just hearing things.

He got up and decided to get some fresh air. He walked to the door and paused, the sound still ringing in his ears. Clutching the door knob, he took in a deep breath and with his eyes screwed shut he turned it open, bracing himself for whatever lay ahead of his.

Silence greeted him as he slowly peeled his eyes open, looking around tentatively for anything that might jump on him out of the dark. 

Ding!

The sound of the elevator’s beep caused his heart to nearly stop, the sudden sound cutting through silent night that was almost engulfing him. He felt his entire body freeze as all he could do was watch the numbers on the screen of the lift increase until it reached his floor, limbs paralysed with fear. 

With another soft ding! the lift door began sliding open, and Mingyu found himself almost begging that he shouldn’t be greeted by someone, or something, once the lift door opened.

The dim blue light of the lift spilt out as Mingyu watched in terror, but to his relief only emptiness greeted him back. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror of the elevator. 

Mingyu looked deathly pale, his eyes tired and haggard like he had just seen a ghost. His cheeks were hollow and he felt his stomach lurch when his reflection wobbled, indicating that that the lift was about to close.

And then the lift shut close, leaving him alone with a pin drop silence that almost felt suffocating.

Weren’t there others who had night duty? Because there was no way he was all alone in the building, right?

The thought was enough to cause his stomach to lurch, and he swallowed thickly wondering if he should call someone to take his place.

But his house! Mingyu could feel goosebumps rising on his skin the second he thought of his house.

What if she- that thing was still lurking around his house? Or worse, was actually in his house.

The ringing of the telephone cut through the silence like a blade, causing him to jump a mile. His reflexes kicked in though, and clutching his painfully beating heart, Mingyu ran towards his computers to pick the emergency phone call.

“911. Please state your emergency-”

“Help.”

Mingyu froze, the familiar voice draining out all the blood from his cheeks again.

No way.

He wanted to cut the call, wanted to block out whatever this woman was about to beg for because her voice was like icy daggers to his skin, rekindling his fear like never before. Mingyu had never felt so terrified in his life before. 

“Please help… Mingyu.”

It was like her whispering his name had opened Pandora's box, and lots of emotions hit him at once. He couldn’t even question how she knew his name because that wasn’t what terrified him the most.

But it was the familiarity of the voice of the woman. A voice he used to hear almost every day before it was snuffed out of his life suddenly.

“Y/N.” He whispered, fear clutching his stomach as he felt his heart hammer in his chest.

In the empty office he could only hear his own ragged breathing and the slight buzzing sound coming from the phone.

But how was this possible?

Because you had died six months ago.

Or rather, you had been killed in his apartment. Murdered in cold blood even though it didn’t make sense because you were the sweetest and most caring person he had met in the world. 

At first, he had been charged with murder. Those two months of investigation had nearly driven him mad. It was hard as it is dealing with your death but constant poking of the police made it even worse.

Finally he was set free due to the lack of evidence. 

Even thinking about you made his head throb. 

“Help please.” You rasped again. “Help me-”

“Where are you?” He whispered urgently, not sure why he was even asking questions. Because this had to be some sort of sick joke, right? Or maybe- maybe he was hallucinating after all. Hallucinating that you had come back to life to get some sort of closure.

“In our apartment! Why aren’t you helping?” You sobbed on the other end of the line.

He felt his head spin. Whom was he even talking to? With each word your voice turned more and more raspy and he could feel the familiar fear returning.

“If you don’t help me he’ll-”

Mingyu heard you gasp, followed by a whimpering as he heard someone slap you.

“Y-Y/N?” He asked, though he truly didn’t want to know what had happened to you. Was the person you kept mentioning your real killer? Then… was this your ghost he was talking to?

“Stay away.” A male voice spoke into the telephone suddenly, causing him to nearly fall off his seat. The hair on his arms and necks stood up at the familiarity of the voice.

“Stay away." He repeated.

He could hear his own voice on the other side of the telephone line asking him to stay away and Mingyu felt his head spin at the thought.

The telephone nearly slipped from his sweaty hand as he tried taking in a deep breath to calm himself down.

"And- and who’s this-”

“Just stay away from us.” He heard his own voice command him, before the line disconnected finally.

“Who was that?”

Mingyu jumped from his seat, hands flying to his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, until his eyes landed on Seokmin.

“You- you scared me!” He hissed, rubbing his sweaty forehead while trying to calm his shaking body down. What had just happened?

No way he had been talking to himself, right? How was that even possible?

Seokmin raised an eyebrow, walking towards him and sitting down on a chair opposite to him?

“Did I scare you? Or that call did?”

Mingyu looked away.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He snapped, wiping his sweaty face with a tissue. The last thing he needed was Seokmin asking too many questions before he started questioning his own sanity.

“You’re not. You asked the caller whether she was Y/N.”

Mingyu shivered involuntarily at the memory, giving away his fear.

“It sounded like her.” He lied, not wanting to remember what had just happened. Maybe if he was nonchalant about it Seokmin would leave him alone.

“Are you sure? That call before was unusual, coming from your house.” Seokmin said, still concerned. “It's okay to be shaken up by this, you know.”

He exhaled out, trying to calm down his nerves as much as he could.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Pretty sure it was a prank. I mean,” He forced out a laugh, which sounded odd against the silence surrounding the two of them, “How can it even be Y/N? That makes no sense. I probably miss her a lot. That’s why I can hear her everywhere.”

“You should go home.” Seokmin cut him, patting him on the shoulder. “I think you need to rest a bit if you’re that stressed out. Sometimes, stress causes us to see and hear things that are not real. ”

Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, feeling dread fill the pit of his stomach at the thought of going home, but with the way Seokmin was staring he knew he didn’t have an option. Or else he would need to explain how he heard his own voice speak to him and ask him to stay away.

Stay away.

Was that a warning, then? Was it a big mistake going back to his house?

But with the way Seokmin was staring at him, Mingyu had no other option but to get up slowly and pack up his things. His hands wobbled, causing him to nearly break his favourite mug, but he managed to force a smile and walk to the elevator, knees threatening to give out any second. 

Once inside the elevator, Mingyu chose to stare at his reflection’s nose, unable to meet its eyes. Something told him that seeing his reflection eye to eye would not be a good idea.

Please hurry up. Please open the door fast-

His heart jumped again as his phone rang suddenly, cutting the heavy cold silence which was accompanied by the occasional soft dings.

"Hello?” He whispered, wondering who was calling so late at night. It couldn’t have been Seokmin since he had his number saved, right?

“Why did you kill me?”

Mingyu froze, unable to breathe anymore. How did you-

“Y/N? How did you- Kill you- What are you talking about?” He panted, stumbling back to support his wobbly legs with the help of the wall of the lift.

All of a sudden the air felt cooler, and his clammy hands seemed to be unable to grip the hand bar of the lift. His eyes darted to the equally petrified reflection and a yelp escaped him, phone dropping to the ground.

Because standing right beside his reflection was you. You, looking just like how you had the day you were murdered. Except there was blood all over your dress and multiple stab marks on your chest and stomach.

You smiled at him sweetly. 

“Don’t you know? You killed me. Well, not exactly you. It was Mingyu. But he is you, you are him, right?”

His legs finally gave away as he pushed his back into the walls of the elevator, terror filling every single of his senses.

Helphelpelphelp-

He heard the lift ding as it reached the ground floor. Crawling to the buttons of the lift, he frantically pressed the open button, eyes not leaving your face as you grinned at him, baring your bloody and broken teeth.

Finally the door opened and Mingyu darted to crawl out but froze almost immediately, feeling his heart stop for real this time.

“No.” He sobbed, as he watched the real you walk towards him. Edging back, he felt his heart hammer painfully hard in his chest, every bit of rational thoughts leaving him as you stepped into the elevator.

You leaned towards him much to his terror, and Mingyu screwed his eyes shut as he finally accepted his fate. His breathing eased a bit but he could still feel how tense his entire body was, adrenaline rushing coursing throughout his body.

I don’t want to go.

“Now it’s time for me to return the favour.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[shdysders]

mistake

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara makes a mistake she can't undo

word count: 3.4k

warnings: violence, blood, stabbing, blood & death.

author’s note: feel like my writing is deteriorating, so sorry this might not be the greatest.

When you heard that Mindy and Ethan had been separated from the rest of the group, you immediately knew nothing was going to go according to the plan.

Everything had happened so fast. First accusation news about Sam had streamed on television, then Quinn's bloody corpse had fallen on top of you, then Anika wasn't able to make it across the latter, her bloody hands and Ghostface's shaking had made her slip. You had lost two of your friends in less than fifteen minutes.

You hadn't heard of the killings in Woodsboro until you had met Tara the first day of junior year, but she made sure to tell you everything that had happened the closer the two of you got.

Based on everything you had heard, you understood why Sam was so protective over Tara, the Carpenter sisters had been through more than normal people have in a lifetime.

However, even though you were nothing but nice and understanding towards Sam, she didn't seem to like you.

The first time Tara had brought you home to the apartment, Sam had kept a burning gaze on you for the whole time, like she wanted to burn you alive.

You thought that she would warm up and eventually trust you like she seemed to do with Anika, Quinn and Ethan, but she never did.

And it only got worse once Tara had called you her girlfriend in front of her, a huge disagreement broke out, so big that Sam had sent you out of the apartment.

You never got to know what Sam had said after that, but you did know that the glares you got from Sam only worsened and so did the small comments she would make about you when she thought you didn't hear.

Such as now, when Sam and Tara were walking in front of you, the theater being the destination. You had this gut feeling that Sam was currently talking about you. You just knew she was, even tho you couldn't hear her voice nor did you see her head moving like it normally did when she spoke, you knew.

But your mind changed thoughts when she rapidly turned on her heel, stopping when she was in front of Danny who had been walking closely behind you, alongside Kirby.

"Not you." She said, her voice cracking.

"What?" He answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting it.

"Don't trust anyone remember?" Sam replied.

You watched the scene with worried eyes, what Sam said reminded you way too much of something she had told Tara when she thought you weren't near. "We don't know you.. not really."

His face expression looked hurt, almost taken aback when Sam spoke. "You know me."

"You're not Woodsboro." She spoke quickly, rage lacing her voice.

Tara looked down at her shoes after that was said, her lips finding a home between her teeth. You knew she was scared, because you were as well. You had no idea how things were going to go down, you had never experienced something as brutal like this before.

You were seconds away from putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she looked up at you with tears pricking her eyes.

"That goes for you too." She swallows thickly, trying her hardest to look into your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, panic rising through you. "W-what?" Your voice came out as a stutter, not believing what she had just made it's way out of her mouth.

Tara just nodded unsurely, her eyes looked sad and were filled with doubt. You couldn't understand why. If she was sad about it, why would she say it?

"Tara I- you can't be serious." You spoke again, voice growing shakier by the minute.

She knew very well how terrified you were about the situation as it was, and yet she still chose to leave you out of the plan alongside Sam's unknown fuck buddy? If it didn't make you shake out of fear you would've been infuriated.

"You're not Woodsboro." She stated, same thing as her sister but in a different tone, she'd tried to sound calm, but her voice was filled with uncertainty, shaky with worry.

You knew she was right. You weren't Woodsboro. You had never been to the place nor did you knew it existed before Tara came along. But the fact that she didn't trust you enough to know for certain that you weren't Ghostface, made you feel the need to fall apart. Did she really think you would kill your friends? Let alone hurt them?

The thought made your eyes sting, and before you had the chance to wipe the tears away, they fell.

"Tara please I promise I-" You felt embarrassed, being so vulnerable over basically nothing.

All eyes were on you as you tried to keep the tears from falling, you felt ridiculous. But you were terrified.

You couldn't stand the thought of being left alone in this situation. Not only because you were scared of being alone, but also because you had to protect Tara.

Although you knew Sam would do a perfectly fine job of keeping her safe, but you wanted to do it, you had to. You wanted to prove to Sam that you loved Tara almost the same amount as she did, you wanted to prove to Tara she could trust you with her life.

You could see that Tara wanted to give in, tell you that you could come along and that she trusted you with her whole being. Her eyes were filled with regret and doubt. But you could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon.

She just watched you, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the look on your face just made her want to squeeze you in a hug hard enough to make you faint.

You looked so scared, and the fact that she knew how scared you were about the whole situation, made everything worse. She had noticed the terrified look on your face that hadn't left since the attack at the apartment, your trembling hands and the layer of tears in your eyes that never fell.

Tara actually thought that you looked more scared than both Sam and her combined.

"Y/n please just stay here." She tried to reason, as if she wanted this. But she did want it. She wanted you to be safe.

You wanted to argue, tell her that you would refuse to come along. But you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere with it, Tara was stubborn, she always got what she wanted somehow. And you didn't want Sam to see you argue with Tara, that certainly wouldn't help you get on better terms with her.

So you gave in, even though you knew Tara's life was at stake. Sam will take care of her, you tried to tell yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears on your cheeks with your hand, even though everybody had already seen them.

Tara's eyes never left your figure as she watched your trembling hands. "Fine." You almost spit, voice cracking with worry.

Tara nodded at that, happy to hear you give in. You didn't pay attention to anybody's reaction other than hers, they didn't seem to matter.

She walked closer to you, placing a kiss on your faintly tear stained cheek. "Be safe." She said, as if she wasn't the one that was about to walk into a situation that she would either leave traumatized or not leave at all.

"Be safe." You repeated, before you watched them all walk away towards the building.

Seeing as Sam turned her head to Tara and whispered 'good call', as they walked away.

But when you turned around to try and make a decent conversation with Danny, he was nowhere in sight. Making even more worry creep in your bones.

***

You had been pacing around in the same place and pattern for 20 minutes without any progress, Danny was gone, and your phone was dead.

The streets where dead and empty.

You had half a mind to just run to the theaters and do the exact opposite of what Tara had instructed you to. But you knew well enough that both of the Carpenter sisters would quite literally murder you if you stepped a foot into their plan.

But eventually the worry and stress got to you, like it always did. You didn't care if you were going to get murdered whether if it were by Tara or Ghostface, if it was for protecting Tara, it was a good reason.

However, before you had the chance to change your mind or consider the other options, a glove-covered hand landed on your face, covering your mouth tightly.

The yelp and screams you tried to make was inaudible, nobody could hear them.

You felt a surge of fear and panic, unable to hear your own scream. The street grew eerily silent as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest. Rush of intense vulnerability and confusion, as you desperately searched for a way to escape the grasp of the unknown assailant.

But you knew who it was. It was Ghostface.

You tried to kick them with your legs, but none of them seemed to hit. The person was holding a strong grip on your mouth, and the other arm was firmly placed around your waist. You were unable to move out of any of the grips, the person was too strong. And you weren't.

Your panic was making it harder to breath, and you were beginning to feel as if you were about to faint any second.

You tried your best to remove the grip with your hands, gripping hardly on the muscular arms, trying so hard to get them away from you.

The tightened arms had veins all over them, yet another reminder that it was impossible for you to get away.

It was Danny, you tried to tell yourself over the ringing in your ears. It had to be Danny. He had left the second you were alone with him. It had to be him.

Muffled screams and ringing ears were the only noises you could make out. If the person behind you was speaking in a voice changer to you or not, you had no idea.

The panic you felt was replaced with relief when the thought of using your elbow to hit the individual behind you entered your mind.

But you never got the chance to do that.

Seconds before your elbow was about to meet the Ghostface mask, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

All of the movements you were making stopped the second you realized what it was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times you could feel the sharp piece of metal enter and exit your abdomen. A gasp escaped your mouth after every single one of them.

You tried to scream, but nobody was around. Your wide eyes scanned through the street, yet again seeing that nobody was there. It was all empty.

Normally the streets of New York would be filled with drunk teenagers and late night workers, whether it was night or afternoon.

But when the news about the killers got out, everybody stayed inside. Some people didn't even bother to leave for work, and of course no parties. Even the homeless people seemed to have found another place to stay at.

You didn't realize that numbness was spreading through your legs until the potential male had slowly began to loosen the grip he had on your figure.

Before you had time to think, he had completely let go.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, you couldn't feel your feet, you couldn't feel your legs, you couldn't feel anything.

You could barely feel your legs giving up, nor did you feel your body hitting the ground as you tried to cover up the damage that had been made on your lower stomach.

Regardless the sharp pain in your body that almost made it impossible to breathe and the dizziness that got worse every time you moved, you tried to crawl towards the fence that was just centimeters away.

Your hands bloody from trying to add pressure to your wounds made trails on the asphalt.

You couldn’t tell if you had placed your hands on the right place, considering that the stab wounds were all over the place. And you didn't even dare to look down, because you could guarantee that it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Your eyes were starting to close by themselves and you were struggling to keep them open.

Everything hurt.

The pressure you were putting on the wounds was now becoming lighter, your hands didn't seem to have any strength left in them.

Tara would be here soon, you thought, desperately.

She would be here soon, everything would be okay; no more Ghostface attacks, no more Sam hating you, and no more unexpected death cases of your friends.

Your mind focused on Tara.

Her brown hair, her beautiful brown eyes, her dimples and her breathtaking smile. Her voice, her touch, and her joyful laugh.

Your eyes closed, and this time you couldn't stop them. The pressure on your wounds was no longer existent. The color in you was gone. You were gone.

Last thought being the girl you wanted to marry.

***

Tara left the building with a lump in her stomach, as big as a bowling ball.

Her body was filled with worry and guilt, but a part of her felt relief. She was relieved that everything was over now. No more Ghostfaces. She was done with them, truly.

Tara couldn't wait to see you. She was going to tell you that the decision she made was right, that she was happy you stayed behind, because you stayed safe.

But when Danny had walked into the theater, tackling all kinds of officer in his way, he was all alone. You weren't there, you didn't come with him.

Danny told them that the two of you had lost sight of each other rather quickly after they'd left, that you probably just needed to be alone and breathe for a moment.

Tara knew that you would be upset with her, for not allowing you to come with them, for not letting you protect her, like you always told her you would, even if it meant dying.

Although she had hoped for you to at least come to see if she made it out alive.

Danny had called the cops and ambulance to arrive at the place as soon as he got the chance. That's why the only thing in Tara's sight was ambulances, police cars and the fire department.

Chad had miraculously made it out alive, same with Mindy and Kirby. And even though that made Tara want to cry out in happy tears, she couldn't let herself feel anything until she had seen you.

Safe and secure. Like you should've been.

Panic began to rise within Tara as minutes passed without any sight of you.

Sam stood beside her, trying to sooth her younger sister with comforting words. But they didn't make anything better for her.

After the whole showdown, the two Carpenter sister's had talked, really talked.

Sam had tried to explain to Tara that she didn't actually hate you, the opposite really. She thought you were lovely and a perfect match for Tara. But she didn't want to take any risks.

She wanted to show you the walls to her trust weren't easy to break. And then she thought that if she acted rude towards you, you would eventually leave; meaning there was no need for Sam to let her guard down and open up to people she didn't know.

But Sam knew how much Tara loved you, she had been listening to her sister's rambling about you everyday.

That's why Sam could feel her heart sinking down her entire being when her eyes met with a stretcher where a body was placed, a morgue sheet on top of it, which was filled with blood.

Sam prayed that it was somebody else. That you had walked somewhere else to breathe just like Danny had assumed.

She felt the need to distract Tara before she had the chance to see it, but it was too late.

She had already seen it.

Tara screamed out your name in a sob, straight away assuming that you were the person underneath the white cover.

The woman who had been pushing the stretcher had stopped, turning around to try and give the man behind her any sort of information about the deceased individual.

Tara's legs moved faster than she could process, Sam following shortly after.

Heart pounding, hands trembling. With a swift of motion, she grabbed the edge of the wrap and pulled it upward, revealing your pale and peaceful face.

The vibrant hues that once painted your face were now gone, leaving behind a pale and ghostly visage. The colors had been drained from you, you no longer looked like yourself.

Tara could feel herself gasp loudly at the sight, turning around with a hand placed on her mouth.

A surge of sickness overwhelmed her. A gut-wrenching sensation, as if her stomach was about to revolt. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up, basically feeling the acidic liquids rise within her.

It was you. Her girl. Dead. Gone.

Sam had the same reaction to the sight, gasping and putting her hand on her mouth, preventing from letting out any tears or sounds. Chills running down her spine.

Stop it. Pull it together. Tara. Tara needs you. Sam told herself.

Gaze shifting from your body and the bloody sheet upon you to her younger sister, who was sobbing beside her, about to fall down to her knees.

But when Sam put a hand on Tara's shoulder, she stood straighter. "No!" She shot up, voice raspy.

She looked at you again, but this time not caring for the feeling inside of her throat that threatened her. "She's not dead." Tara spoke again, trying to convince herself that you were alive, that she could save you.

"Tara-" Sam tried, but Tara had no interest in listening to her sister.

"Y/n. Baby, look at me." Tara gently brushed her fingertips against your cheeks, but quickly pulled away when she felt the chill that pierced through her body, for they were once a source of warmth and comfort, now distant and cold.

You were always warm.

The tears streamed down Tara's face, leaving even more mascara smudges on her cheeks, falling and leaving marks on her blue shirt. The shirt that you had gotten her.

"Sam, Come on! help me please" She begged for her big sister's help, still hoping that you could be saved.

At that sentence, the woman who had pushed you turned around, she seemed to have heard Tara's pleads and begs, filled with hope, wishing that you were alive. "Oh honey, this girl has been deceased for over an hour...we can't save her."

The woman spoke apologetically and looked at Tara with sorrowed eyes. "I'm so sorry." She ended. Tara was about to scream at the lady, yell at her and tell them to at least try, you weren't gone. There was no way.

But before Tara got the chance to argue, Sam had pulled her into her chest, embracing Tara with a hug. And at that, Tara broke.

The sobs left her mouth faster than she could take them in, she didn't have any space to breathe.

"She's gone." She cried, her tears staining the older woman's shirt. "And I wasn't there to help her." Tara rambled, talking rapidly before the next sob would escape.

Sam didn't know what to say. She just stroke her younger sister's hair, trying to soothe her sobs.

She had never seen Tara this vulnerable and emotionally ruined, not even when she had reunited with Tara at the hospital the previous year.

Tara's body shook violently as each sob left her mouth.

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Tara had been so confident with her decision only minutes before. She thought she had made the right move.

But it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

A mistake she couldn't take back, and had to live with for the rest of her time alive.

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[jishyucks]

Me, You, and the View ‣ lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: FLUFF, f2l (in a way), 'our friends left us and it's just us left' trope, slice-of-life!au

‣ wc: 5.5k

‣ summary: after being ditched by your entire friend group on an out-of-town trip, you and your (not-so-close) friend Mark are left alone to explore the destination together

‣ warnings?: reader has a fear of heights, mark is very mark in this, he feeds the wildlife some fries

‣ an: something I wrote for no reason, I just found the idea cute,,, also I know those things aren't called gondolas but thts what we call those here where I live,,, anyways some of this stuff is taken straight from Mark's antics in that one 127 hit the states video (you'll know which one it is when you read); anyways thanks to my bestie @hoonieji for reading over my shite again <33 PLS ENJOY AS ALWAYS!

The best word that could describe how you’re currently feeling is appalled.

Appalled because the friends with whom you planned this trip to the Rockies have decided to break off with their own significant others without you. Sure, you were still the supportive friend you always were with their SOs, but you thought that would be later and with a warning at least. Not first thing in the morning.

“I guess it’s just us, then?” 

Mark awkwardly stands at your side, hands stuffed deep into his hoodie. His hood’s falling off of his head as he turns to look at you. He quickly tugs it back up, but you notice that the hood gets tucked behind one ear. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I guess.” 

It’s not like you hated Mark (cause who in the world would hate Mark?)... it was more so that your relationship with said boy wasn’t as tightly knitted as it was with Donghyuck or Renjun. You weren’t sure you had anything in common with Mark, except for the friends you both shared. Other than that, from what you know, your interests were completely different. 

“Or we can just go around alone?” Mark quickly follows up. He laughs awkwardly and kicks at the dirt underneath his sneakers, “Whatever’s fine.”

From the tone in his voice, you can tell he’s slightly upset, “No, it’s fine! I just wasn’t expecting them to just… ditch us like that.” 

Mark laughs and nods. “Me too. Let’s go then?”

“Go where?” You questioned. Mark’s already a few steps in front of you, so you’re brought to jog lightly to catch up, “Have you been here before?” 

He shakes his head, “No, but I want to go up there.” He points at the top of a mountain, “I just know that the view’s going to be breathtaking.” You follow his finger and see a long trail of gondola lifts travelling up to the top. 

“Up there?” You don’t mention your fear of heights. Only because you’re not sure if Mark would make fun of you or not. You guess this is how your mind is conditioned after hanging around Donghyuck too much. 

He nods, eyes sparkling but you don’t notice, “Yeah! That’s what I’ve been looking forward to when Hyuck first mentioned the trip.” 

The smile on his face makes it harder for you to tell him that you’re afraid to go. You both have already been left alone by your friends, and now you don’t have the heart to leave him alone either. That, and the fact that you didn’t want to be alone in this unknown place. 

You’ll just close your eyes the whole way up. 

“It sounds fun,” you say, gulping, “Let’s go then.”

You and Mark reach the ticket booth, paying for a round-trip ticket before lining up at the bottom of the mountain. You’re surprised to see that the lines weren’t as long as your parents had warned you about, probably since it’s still early morning, so you and Mark reach the front of the line within five minutes. 

“Have you read the safety guidelines?” The worker points to a board standing a few yards away from him. You and Mark both reply with a simple ‘yes’ before slipping the man the first half of the ticket. He lets you through, reminding you to watch your step when getting onto the gondola. 

“I’m excited~” Mark comments, plopping down on the seat on the side that would consider him going forwards for the trip. You sit the opposite of him and laugh nervously. You immediately grip the edge of the seat as the door of the cart closes. 

“Me too.” You hope Mark doesn’t read through your expression, or hear the slight waver in your voice when you did speak. You’re lucky to see that his attention’s already diverted to the shrinking trees and people waiting for their turn to go on. Although there’s a comfortable silence that settles on top of both of you, you still feel like you both should still be saying something to fill that silence. You’re just not sure what. You leave it be.

The gondola was travelling faster than it looked from the ground, not to mention the fact that it swayed in the slightest every time it reached a connecting pole. You gulp and train your eyes on your shoes, praying that your eyes won’t do as little as flicker to the view outside of the gondola. If you were hooked up to those heart rate monitors at the hospital, you’d be admitted for how fast your heart was beating. You could feel it pounding against your chest. 

“Look at those mountains over there!” Mark finally speaks up. You’re compelled to look, but you know that if you did, you’d probably pass out from how high you were—not that you knew how high you and Mark currently were… it just felt high. 

“They look… cool,” you comment without moving your head. You trace your laces with your eyes, while your grip around the edge of the seat grew tighter (if that was even possible). 

“Oh c’mon, you didn’t even look,” Mark says lightheartedly. It doesn’t take him long to realize what’s happening, eyes reading your body language like a book. At first, he hesitates to speak up, not knowing if he’ll come off as weird if he does reach out, but there’s something in him that pushes him to do so, “Do you want to sit next to me?” 

You gulp again, eyes quickly moving to Mark and then back to your feet. Were you being that obvious?

“It’s better on this side,” he says, “You don’t notice how far we’ve gone.” 

Your heart warms slightly at the fact that Mark doesn’t even question you, nor does he joke about the distance between you and the ground. Instead, he simply just acts on handing over the comfort you’ve been needing ever since you stepped onto this damn lift. “Can I?” You say quietly, bringing your legs closer underneath you. 

Mark nods, then he realizes you couldn’t actually see him nod, “Of course, you can.” 

“O-okay,” you take a deep breath and reach out for the seat in front of you. It’s further than you initially thought it was, so you feel that you look rather ridiculous reaching out for nothing. 

And that’s when you feel hands grabbing yours. 

“Okay, take your time to stand up,” he says softly, “I’ll pull you to my side so you don’t need to look up.” For the second time today, Mark Lee makes your stomach twist in an unusual way. 

Or was it just because you were practically hundreds of feet off ground?

You finally build the courage to stand up. Mark waits for your cue to tug gently at your arms, guiding you to the now-empty seat next to him. 

There’s a sense of relief when you finally plop down beside Mark, your neck thanking you for finally extending it after what felt like hours of looking down. Mark was right when he said that you wouldn’t be able to tell how far off the ground you both were. He was also right about how pretty the mountains were. 

“Thanks,” you sighed quietly, “I felt like I was going to shit myself.” 

Mark laughs and offers a kind grin, “It’s nothing. Why didn’t you say anything before we got on?”

You echo his laugh and shrug, “You looked too happy and I didn’t want to say no.” Mark feels himself smile at your reply, letting it hang in the air before it dissolves with no problem. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have forced you to go if he knew you had a fear of heights, but he was glad he was there to give you a sense of comfort in this situation. 

The rest of the ride up to the top of the mountain, you train your eyes at what you believe was the end of the trip up. There was a large roofed area that attempted to hide the large gears turning the entire cable line. Just beneath them, you could see ant-sized humans getting off and on the gondolas. You couldn’t help but feel relief bloom in your chest. 

“I’m excited!” Mark says from beside you. He jumps a bit in his seat, kicking his legs up like a young child, “I can’t wait to go sightseeing up there.” 

The gondola’s brought closer and closer to the end by the second, and before you know it, you and Mark are hopping off of the cart with heavy huffs. You’re ecstatic to feel the ground beneath your feet. And although you’re metres and metres above sea level, ground is ground and you’ll accept anything solid and concrete.

“The air’s very…” you hear Mark take in a big fat whiff of air, “Clear.” The astonishment in his voice makes you giggle. 

You give him a look, “Isn’t all air clear?” You both begin to walk out of the roofed area and out to where many other tourists were. People were walking back and forth, some walking up man-made stairs to reach one of the highest points of the mountain. 

“Yes, but you know what I mean,” he waves his hand to dismiss the comment he’s made, stuffing his hands into his pockets when a breeze blows past you both, “Are you okay making our way up?” 

You nod, “As long as we’re not hanging above ground then I’m fine.” Mark takes this as a green light to start walking up the steps, letting you go first and following closely after. 

“When we get up there, I want to take pictures,” Mark says from behind you. You can tell he’s out of breath, but you don’t blame him because you’ve been going up stairs for a good five minutes. 

Just under ten minutes, you and Mark finally reach the last step and onto a divided platform at a high point of the mountain. There weren't as many people as you thought there’d be, probably because the top wasn’t the easiest to reach. 

Just as earlier, you take in the scene happening in front of you. People were leaning against the railings with big smiles as someone took pictures of them, others stood and just stared off at the view, which you still had yet to see. There were a few families taking breaks at the picnic tables set up in a gathering area in the middle and dogs doing the same next to them. 

This itself was already nice to see, you think. Now it was time for the actual view that you and Mark had travelled all the way up here for. It better be worth the fear. 

Mark takes the lead again, gesturing for you to follow him up to an empty portion of the railing. His hands were still stuffed deep into the pockets of his hoodie, the air up being cooler than it was at the bottom of the mountain. You can faintly see the huffs of air coming out of your and Mark’s mouths, but the temperature was bearable. Besides, by the end of the trip up, you’ll probably be sweating your ass off.

Once Mark reaches the railings, you hear him gasp before turning to you, urging you to hurry up just a bit. And when it was your turn to get to the rail, you know exactly why Mark’s gasp was not exaggerated. 

It was breathtaking. And you suppose that it quite literally sucked the air out of Mark. There was no way to describe the sight except for the fact that it looked like it was pulled straight from a painting. The winding river, narrowed as it reached the end of the vast horizon, the layers of mountains getting lighter the further they got, and the trees presenting shades of autumn that all looked fabricated. It was all too beautiful to be real. There was no way it wasn’t just some abnormally enlarged picture. But the movement of the water stream and the slight swaying of the trees prove you wrong.

“I just….” Mark starts, “Want to sit here forever.” He crosses his arms and rests them on top of the metal fence. Then he brings his head down to sit on top of his arms. He’s bent down in a seemingly uncomfortable way, but by the way, his face relaxes, you know he isn’t. 

“It’s definitely so refreshing to see compared to buildings and concrete and almost no trees back home,” you comment before mirroring the way he’s posed. 

“You’re right,” he agrees. Mark stands up straight and pulls his phone from his pocket, “Do you want pictures?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer to pull up the camera, standing back just far enough so that you could still see the view behind you. 

“Yes please.” You turn your back to him and tell him you want one like that first before actually facing the camera. 

Mark holds a thumb up before holding the camera steady to let you know that everything was fine. Your pose, the camera’s position, the view in the back, they were all fine. 

There was no problem at all, everything was completely fine. 

At least that’s what Mark believes before he finds himself frozen as he stares at your silhouette through his phone. At the back of his mind, he deeply questions why he’s only like this now, when he's had so many other opportunities to actually look at you. 

So, why now?

He has no idea why. 

“One… one…” he drags on, finger wavering over the white button on the screen. 

“Are you okay?” You turn to look at him and Mark sees this through his phone’s screen. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, “I just zoned out there for a second.” Mark watches you get back into position and he quickly snaps a few pictures. Once he believes he’s gotten good shots of you, he hands you his phone, “Can I get some too?”

Without another word, you grab his phone and take pictures of Mark in front of the pretty view. He pulls the most ridiculous poses, but you find it endearing. You grin and pull the phone back to look at the photos. “Send me these?”

“I will when we get back to the hotel,” he nods. You hand him his phone and the both of you take in the view one more time before leaving for another part of the peak. As you and Mark make your way to different points of the peak, you begin to learn that there will simply be no bad sights to see. The surrounding forest area all held its own special view and with each part you encounter, you and Mark take pictures with the desire to capture the moment as it was. 

It was nice, actually. 

You started the day thinking it wouldn’t reach the expectations you set yourself when you all planned this trip. But you stand corrected when you’re actually enjoying Mark’s company. Thinking about it, it would’ve been a mess with everyone here. At least with Mark, there’s a good balance between pictures, relaxation, and simply joking around. You shouldn’t have judged the day so quickly. 

“I’m hungry,” Mark announces, “Do you want to find something to eat up here?” 

“What, like acorns or something?” you joke. There was almost nothing but nature, but you do recall seeing a building located a walk’s length from the departure zone of the gondolas. 

Mark laughs, shaking his head, “I’m not in the mood for nuts right now. I was thinking ‘bout that building over there.” He points to the same building you were thinking about.

“Sure,” you nod, “I’m pretty thirsty, too.”

After grabbing replenishments, you and Mark decide that it was warm enough to sit outside on one of the empty benches. You’re lucky to even have grabbed one considering there were more people sightseeing. 

“I wonder what the others are doing.” You take the biggest gulp of water and then eat the food you settled on. There had been no texts or phone calls from your friends, nor did they let you know where they were going. 

Mark shrugs and munches on his own food, “I don’t know, but I bet they’re not having as much fun as us.” His shoulders touch yours slightly as he swings his feet underneath him. You didn’t even notice how close he was sitting to you. The contact tickles your shoulder. 

You laugh and joke, “You’re right. I bet you they’re walking in mud right now. Karma for ditching us.” At the corner of your eye, movement catches your attention and you immediately go to look at it. A yelp leaves your lips as you come face to face with a ground squirrel, curiosity getting the best of it as it approaches you and Mark. “Shit, that scared me!”

Mark gasps and starts making noises to attract it. “It’s so cute!” He pulls out a French fry from his meal and stands up to face it, waddling back and forth and mirroring the direction the squirrel was moving, “Hey there!” Then he proceeds to make noises that you believe aren’t even squirrel noises. 

This is too cute. You hastily fish your phone out from your pocket and pull up the camera app, recording as much of the interaction as you can. 

Mark goes on for an embarrassingly long amount of time before he finally squats down to the animal and looks back at you, “You think it likes fries?”

“Mark, I don’t think we should feed wildlife,” you say seriously, but you’re laughing, only because Mark’s being adorable and you can’t handle it. His eyes give off the same look a kid would have after discovering something exciting. Who would have thought a ground squirrel would have this much of an effect on a grown man?

“Just one won’t hurt, right?” Mark questions. He sticks his hand out and waits for the squirrel to take it, “I feel bad. It looks hungry.” The ground squirrel snatches it out of Mark’s fingers, acquiring the fried potato strip before jetting off. 

“Man, it just wanted food.” Mark’s sulky. He stands up and turns to you, “I should’ve kno–“ He cuts himself off before his eyes widen. 

“Mark, are you good?” 

The boy bursts out into laughter, hand clutching his stomach. 

“Mark?” You’re utterly confused, almost feeling left out despite it only being between him and you. 

He reaches for your shoulders and turns you to look behind you, “Look!”

You let him turn you and you see why he’s laughing. On a big, white board that’s stuck strategically in the dirt, was a sign that states DO NOT FEED WILDLIFE. 

By the time you and Mark have explored a majority of the landmark, you’re both stumbling back and forth from the soreness of your feet. It’s funny because as you’re watching Mark walk, you can see that he can barely even pick his feet up, the back of his sneakers dragging roughly against the gravel. You’re knees feel like buckling from how tired they were from the semi-hiking you’ve been doing the entire day. 

“Let’s rest,” you say. It wasn’t even a suggestion or a question. If you kept walking, you felt like your legs were going to betray you and you’ll be tumbling down the stairs. 

“I was waiting for you to say,” Mark huffed, hand to the chest. He points to an empty bench right by a sightseeing telescope.

You give him a look, “Why didn’t you just say? What if I never said anything?”

He shrugs and plops down onto the bench, “I didn’t want to hold you back from exploring.” 

“And if something happens to you, then what?” your eyes narrow, but the tone in your voice is light. You take the empty spot next to him and slump down so that your head is able to rest against the bench’s backrest. You extend your legs forward and close your eyes. 

“Then you’d have to carry me down this mountain,” Mark replies wittily. 

You think about it as if he were being serious, “Okay, then I’ll be charging by the hour.” 

Mark laughs and notices that you have your eyes closed, “If you want to nap for a bit, you can go ahead. I’ll keep watch.” 

You smile softly and thank him. Oddly enough, you never saw Mark as a thoughtful guy. Sure, you knew he was a good guy, but it was just worth pointing out that he has genuinely good intent behind everything he says or does.

When you hear Mark stop kicking his feet against the gravel, you can’t help but take a peek to see what he’s up to. 

You open one eye and turn your head in his direction, but you’re only met with Mark staring down at his phone. His fingers fly across the screen for a good minute. You wonder who he’s texting. 

“Is it one of the others?”

Mark jumps slightly at your voice, head darting towards your direction, “Huh?”

“Whoever you’re texting.”

“Oh, I’m not texting any of them,” Mark says sheepishly. He hesitates for a moment before opting to turn his phone to you, showing you whatever he’s doing. The notes app stares back at you and there are words written in verses. 

“You write?” 

He nods, “Well, sorta… just random stuff. It’s how I like to express myself… Do you want to read it?” You realize how special this probably was to him. He’s sharing with you things he’s written that reflect his own emotions. 

“I’d love to.” You sit up as he hands you his phone. 

Then you read it:

“Winding rivers predictably change unpredictably;

Leaves turn hues that contrast the

Weather is ever-changing but foretold;

Time remains constant, but

no knowledge of what the future will bring;”

“I-it’s still a work in progress and I don’t know what direction I’m headed but—”

“So, living in the now is what’s important,” you say, “At least that’s how I interpret it.”

Mark blinks at you in astonishment. No one he’s shown his written verses to has ever tried to comprehend it, nor did they even appreciate it (besides his English professor, obviously). So when you actually take your time to read it, understand it, and offer your own meaning behind his words, he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat just for you. 

“That’s—”

Mark’s phone rings, interrupting him mid-sentence. 

“Oh, it’s Donghyuck.” He quickly answers it and brings the phone up to his ear, excusing himself.

The two of them have a short conversation with the usual back and forth. Then it dies down after a couple of minutes. “Maybe fifteen minutes? Give or take,” Mark estimates, “But you guys can start thinking before we get there… yeah… okay sounds good I think… see you!”

“What’d he say?” You ask, standing to the side of Mark.

“That they want to meet up for dinner,” Mark says, “He says they’re where we were this morning.” Mark stuffs his phone into his pocket and claps his hands together. He brings himself to stand at the railing, breathing it all in. “Goodbye, view.”

You laugh to yourself at Mark and you play along, “We’ll miss you!” It’s funny because you guys are going to be here for another day. It’s a high possibility you’ll be back tomorrow, even if it were for a short while. 

Mark looks over at you and smiles, “Let’s not keep the others waiting.” 

Although you let Mark lead the way, he still ends up slowing his pace to walk next to you. He’s telling you that it would be better if you sat in the same spot as you did this morning on the gondola, “And I’ll cover your eyes if you get scared.” 

You glare at him playfully and furrow your brows, “I can close my own eyes, you know.” 

Mark laughs, rolling his eyes, “Yeah but I don’t know, it’s my duty or something since I’m on there with you.” You freeze for a moment, causing the guy to walk a few steps ahead of you. Was he just flirting with you or was it Mark just being… Mark? Mark has always been the type to say things that surfaced from his thoughts. 

You shake your head and jog to keep up with him, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think I’ll freak out this time anyways. It’s just good knowing you’re there just in case, though.” Nudging him playfully, you send him a small smile of reassurance. 

“I’m honoured,” Mark gasps, “But I’m serious, if you feel scared anytime during the ride down, just tell me.” 

“I will.”

°•. ✿ .•°

Your eyes are close to shutting when you feel a rough tug at your duvet. 

“What do you want, Yeri,” you groan, throwing your body around to face her. The lamp on her side of the two-bed room is still turned on and you can’t help but feel blinded when you accidentally look straight at it. Yeri’s wearing a face mask that makes her look like a ghost. You can’t even recall when she even stood up to put it on, nor did you hear her unwrap one. 

“Are you mad at me?” She attempts to pout but the mask stops her from any sort of facial expression, “I promise you we didn’t plan to ditch you but–”

“I’m not mad, I’m just tired,” you sit up, clearly understanding that Yeri wants to have a conversation. The sleeve of your oversized shirt falls off one shoulder and you quickly pull it back up. Then, you lean forward towards your own lap and flick it on. 

“Okay good!” Yeri exclaims, “Because I have a question that I’ve been meaning to ask you ever since dinner ended but Mark was with us.” Although your best friend still can’t pull the usual expressions she usually makes, you can tell which one she’s pulled off her rack just by the look in her eyes.

Your brow quirks at the mention of Mark, “Why would it matter if Mark was there or not?” 

“I wanted to ask you how it went with him.” Yeri grins slightly through her mask, eyes blinking like in those cartoons. She pulls her legs up and crosses them, bouncing on her bed. 

“What do you even mean?”

“You and Mark were alone,” she points out, “When was the last time he and you were alone? Never. You guys would look cute together, you know?” 

You look at her like she was crazy, knowing exactly what she was implying (though she wasn’t even trying to be subtle), but you try your best to ignore it, “To be honest it was actually fun.” And you’re not lying. You tell Yeri everything, telling her about the trip up to the mountains, the picture-taking, seeing ground squirrels, the trip down—everything. By the looks on Yeri’s face, you can tell she’s overanalyzing everything (exactly how a best friend would). 

“If you say anything about Mark and feelings, I will actually kick you right now,” you show her your foot, “I don’t like Mark like that.” You think about what you said in your head. You’re almost completely sure you don’t have any underlying feelings for Mark, but after today, you can’t help but think about the possibility. In childish terms, it wasn’t gross actually having feelings for Mark, it was just odd because you never would think you’d have these feelings, especially since you both weren’t considered close among your friend group. But after your day with him and seeing what it was like being with him, you wouldn’t oppose any feelings if they did come up. 

Yeri gives you a look that involved her having to tilt one side of her face closer to you. She looked like that Megamind ‘no bitches’ meme. You raise your foot in threat, “Yeri, don’t look at me like that.” 

“I’m just making sure,” she shrugs, backing up. 

There’s a knock at the door before you’re even able to reply. You can already guess it’s one of the others. There was no way an employee would willingly serve guests at this ungodly hour. Being closer to the door, an unspoken rule brings you up to your feet to open it, leaving Yeri at her bed (she doesn’t complain). 

You look through the peephole and see Donghyuck standing there, Mark trying to drag the younger boy back to their own room. You can see Mark saying something in panic but Hyuck’s choosing to ignore him, eyes staring intently at the door. You open it. 

“Go sleep, guys.” 

“Oh, great! Y/N, you answered it,” Donghyuck exclaims. Mark’s now attempting to put him in a chokehold, roughly pulling him back. Donghyuck doesn’t budge. It seems that he has superhuman strength whenever he chooses. 

“Huh? What do yo—”

“What did you do to him?” Donghyuck grabs Mark by the wrist and points to him. You’re not even sure why you’re not laughing at this point. Donghyuck looks dead serious and Mark looks like he’s going to explode out of stress. It was probably the curiosity keeping you from bursting. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You broke him,” Donghyuck replies as if it still made sense. Fortunately, he keeps going without question, “I was trying to talk to him, but he wasn’t even listening. You know why? He was staring at his phone like this.” Donghyuck freezes and pretends to gawk at his phone. At this point, Mark’s trying to cover his mouth. 

“And why am I to blame?”

When Mark realizes what’s about to be said, he stops restraining Donghyuck and retreats back down the direction of their room. In another universe, his feet would leave tracks of fire. 

Donghyuck’s posture sags and he groans, “The picture was of you!” 

You freeze. “Me?” 

“Her!?” Yeri gasps running to the door, “Mark come back here!” 

You look down the hall and Mark’s frozen as if you were all playing a game of red light, green light. There was no way he was going to turn back. He was scared to move. But he knew he was done for. 

Meanwhile, your heart’s beating out of your chest because this was news to you. You’re not sure how to react.

“Mark Lee!” Yeri calls. You feel bad for the other guests in the other rooms because the four of you are disrupting the hell out of their sleep. You wonder if the others can hear this going down, “Come back here, or I’m telling auntie you scratched her car!”

Mark’s back at Donghyuck’s side in an instant, but he’s avoiding all possible eye contact with you. Donghyuck’s just laughing at him, bringing his cheeks between his thumb and his index finger. 

“Care to explain?” Yeri pushes on, eyes burning holes through Mark’s face. At the back of her mind, she knows that her mask is long overdue, but she doesn’t care about that right now. She wants to know what’s up with Mr. Lee. 

“Youlookedreallyprettyinthepicture,” Mark mumbles, eyes glued to the old hotel carpet. 

Donghyuck and Yeri, who seemed more invested in this than you were, looked at him and threw him a slap, “Speak clearly!” 

“I… um…” Mark’s eyes flicker to his best friend and to you, and then to Yeri, and then back to you before settling to its home staring at the carpet, “Can I talk to Y/N alone?”

Yeri immediately drags Donghyuck into the room, pushing you out in the process. Then, before you know it, the door is shut and you’re alone with Mark in this quiet hallway. 

“I wanted to say how I really enjoyed today,” he says quietly. Mark can feel his chest heat up, cheeks following not long after, “And… I was staring at the picture because you looked… really pretty in it.” Mark feels like bolting off, but the deed was halfway done. That, and his feet feel like they’ve been anchored to the floor underneath him. 

“Wow… umm, thank you?” you gulp, “But I enjoyed today, too. So much that I was actually a bit bummed when we had to leave…” 

Mark’s confidence level rises just a little bit, hearing that you were somehow reciprocating all of this, “When… when we get back home, do you want to go on a… date with me?”

“A date?”

“I-I mean it can be a friendly date if you want, or a date-date if that’s what you want too,” Mark rambles, “I’m okay with what you want. But my question was about a date…date.”

“Ya! Mark Lee! At least make this bearable to watch!” you hear Donghyuck through the door. 

“Y/N answer him already, my neck is hurting!” Yeri calls after. 

You quickly shoot a glare at the peephole and turn back to Mark, who is now a crimson shade of red, “I would love to go on a date with you, actually. A date-date.” 

Mark’s eyes light up at your response, “Really?”

“Yes really.”

Behind the door, you hear Donghyuck and Yeri cheer, followed by slaps that you could guess were a bunch of high-fives. 

They were just as ecstatic as Mark was.

Why?

Because Operation: Mountain Trip was a success. 

[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 1

Summary:  Spotting Curtis Everett broke down on the side of the road, you just had to pick him up.  Didn’t you?

Pairings:  Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, hitchhiking, drinking, PIV sex, dry humping, fingering, squirting, mentions of oral sex, early indications of a D/s relationship, cheating (?), 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  5K

Series Masterlist

A/N:  this is 100% one of @tis-thedamn-season​ brain.  Not going to lie...I love it!

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

Looking at the clock in your car you sigh.  Getting closer to your destination every mile.  Putting more and more space between you and the place you used to call home.  This was the perfect opportunity to start a new life.  You weren’t even running from anything, you just wanted to see more.  Wanted to do more.  Moving to a new state, a bigger city, and to a possible beautiful home.

There were still so many doubts.  So many what if’s, but you were young.  Your parents told you that you needed to take the chances you were given.  Live life, and experience new things.  More than the little podunk town on the opposite side of the United States.  The east coast was going to give you more opportunities that is something you were sure of.  That you were positive.

The current hope you had was to make it to your last hotel before the rain started.  And then the last couple of hours to Boston.  One more sleep, and you would be there.  You needed to stay awake.  Stay alert, and hope for the best.

Curtis on the other hand is annoyed.  No service, and broke down on the side of the road.  The rumble of thunder makes him even more irritated.  He had just a few more hours on his mini road trip, and he would be home.  And then this stupid old car broke down.  He should have known better.  A mechanic taking a stupid dumb car.  Out in the middle of nowhere, with no fucking cell service.  

He couldn’t even remember why he needed to take this trip every year.  And in the predicament he’s in currently it just pisses him off.  He leans on the hood of the car, hoping that someone will see him stranded.  The chances were low.  He knew he was probably going to be staying the night in the backseat.  He was tired.  He was agitated.

You squint your eyes in the distance, seeing a figure leaning onto a car.  This is just like how every horror movie starts.  But you feel the need to pull over.  Slowing your Mini Cooper down, but staying on the road.  It was a small two lane road, and you hadn’t seen a car on here for miles.  

“Hey, uh…woah,” the man that approaches your car backs up quickly.  “Sorry, I know this is going to sound lame and dumb, but you’re a young girl out here alone, and I don’t want you to feel that I’m trying to take advantage of you or chop you up for…this isn’t making you feel better is it?” 

“No.  Not at all,” what he was saying didn’t make you feel better, but how he was saying it did.  “Are you having car trouble or do you normally just lean against your car hoping for someone to chop up?” 

“Ah, you caught me,” he leans over, trying to get a good view of you, but still standing far enough away.  “Although, my getaway car’s transmission went out.  There’s no cell service here.  Can’t even call my partner to come tow this damn car.”

“Your partner?” Curtis watches as your arm starts to relax a bit more.  The grip on your steering wheel loosens up.  

“Yeah, we own a garage together.”

“Imagine that, a mechanic with car trouble,” Curtis gives you a chuckle, stepping closer to your car.  “Not much of a mechanic are you?” His arms rest on your open window, and against your better judgment, you still don’t tense up.  “What are you doing out here?” 

“I go on a road trip for about two weeks every year.  I was almost home.  Heading to Newton.”

“Me, too,” Curtis’ eyes drift up and down your front.  He tries to make himself not look too much like a predator who had found its next prey, but you seriously were a gem.  Out here all alone, in your tiny little car, loaded up with piles of shit.  This car was too small for how much you had in here.

“Newton’s a few hours away, and it’s getting late.”

“Oh, I’ve got a hotel about twenty minutes up the road.  Um…do you need a ride?  I’m sure that they have a phone there.  Seeing how there’s no service.”

“Uh, did your daddy not teach you not to pick up strangers?” Of course he did, but somehow this handsome stranger was making you feel comfortable.

“Should I be scared?” 

“Of me?  No, but isn’t that what a killer would tell you?  I seriously mean you no harm, but I am questioning your judgment here.  You got pepper spray or anything?” Nodding your head, you dig around in your cup holder holding it up.  “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?”

“You’re not making me feel better about this now.  But the GPS does say the hotel is just up the road, less than an hour to go.  Hand me your keys,” Curtis freely hands the car keys to you, and you stuff them in your doors pocket, unlocking the car, and letting Curtis clumsily get in.

Finally putting into perspective how long his legs are.  Cramping them up, and sitting uncomfortably beside you.  An adorable little giggle escapes your mouth, and he turns to glare at you, “You think this is funny?  Why in the world do you have this tiny little car?” 

“It’s adorable,” him squished up in the passenger seat was really adorable.

“It is useless for more than one person.  Where are you driving from?  Oh my god, how was this even comfortable?  This is terrible.  Please tell me this isn’t your only car.  If my daughter ever asks for one of these it’s not just a no, it’s a hell no,” the fact he was already talking about a future daughter oddly makes you tremble.  “What is the purpose of these cars?” 

“Some of us don’t have legs that go on for days.  You know, I didn’t even get your name?” 

“It’s Curtis.  And you are?” You quickly give him your name, and he shakes his head no, “You should be called Grace.”

“Why is that?” 

“Because, you and this tiny little car are my saving Grace.  Does she even get over fifty?” 

“Yes.  The bags of clothes in the back aren’t helping your space.  Your seat isn’t as far back as it could be.  Beggars can’t be choosers though.  I’m from Washington state by the way.  Why do you go on a road trip every year?” 

Curtis is constantly adjusting his seating.  Knees up higher than was normal, and pressing up against the dash of the car.  Twenty minutes wasn’t a long drive.  He could do this.  “Uh, just to get away.  Life can come at you fast.  Mine didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted it to.  Without getting too into anything, I helped a friend out.  We got ourselves stuck, drifted, and somehow remained friends, and we make it work.  We have to.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“Please don’t,” Curtis looks out his window, appearing as if something was bothering him, but you didn’t want to pry.  If he wanted to tell you more he could.  But you know he won’t.  “So New England?” Finally he looks towards you, and you gulp.  Gripping tighter to the steering wheel.  Oddly trying to rub your thighs together.  He was handsome.  Too attractive.

“Yeah, sometimes you get tired of the same thing.”

“What’s a pretty girl like you, driving all the way out here for?  I’m assuming you’ve got something lined up?” His deep blue eyes coast up and down your body, noticing every tiny movement in you make with a smirk.  “Is there something wrong?” 

“No.  No, I uh — yeah, I’ve got something.  Gotta meet with them, and would uh have a place to um…to live.”

“Hmm, you’re just breaking all kinds of rules, huh?” You glance back over to Curtis, and he was still eyeing you like his prey.  His legs spread as much as they could, but in this tiny car, he couldn’t get the effect he was wanting.  He didn’t have to try to make you want him.  You wanted him.

“What?” 

Curtis chuckles, wiping his thumb and middle fingers on the sides of his beard.  You reach towards the air conditioner, turning it up.  “You picked me up, and the way you’re talking…are they putting you up in a house?” 

“Yeah.  What…what do you do in Newton?” Something had to change.  The topics had to go to something else besides you.  It was getting more difficult to drive and pay attention.  

“I told you, I’m a mechanic.  Gotta garage with my buddy, Jax.  We stay busy.  Blue collar work.  Beats the traveling bullshit.  I don’t get it.  Traveling for work.  Traveling because you want a vacation.  On your own.”

“Did you just get off a two week road trip?” 

He turns to look at you, that devilish grin still there, “I like you.”

“Why?” 

“Called me out on my own bullshit quickly.  A lot of people won’t do that.  They say I’m too argumentative.  I’m not.  I’m blunt, there’s a difference.  Isn’t that the damn hotel?” 

“Yeah,” you respond.  Turning into the hotel and the gravel crunches under your tires, and you hate that this is it.  Curtis was about to make a call, and get something worked out, and this would be it.  You grab your backpack, and walk in with Curtis.  

He allows you to check in before stepping up to the counter, “I need a room for the night.”

“I’m sorry, sir, we have no more vacancies.”

“There’s…can I just — I guess hang out in your lobby then.  I gotta call someone in the morning to help with my car, and…”

“I’m sorry, sir, no loitering.  Have a good evening,” she walks off, and goes back to her seat.  Picking up her phone, and letting Curtis know that the conversation was over.

“Just my luck.  Damn.  Thanks, here let me get you some money.  I’ll…hell, I don’t know, start walking.”

“It’s two in the morning,” biting at your lip, you know this is the most bizarre and ridiculous thing you have ever done.  He was nice.  He was hot as fuck.  And you were terrified.  Not of him, but of moving here.  Moving away from what you knew and into the unknown.  All the warnings you push back in your mind.  You had made it this far, and he hadn’t killed you.

“I know, darling.  I’ve been in worse places.”

“No, I mean…I’ve got a second bed,” Curtis cocks his brow up at you, and you slowly exhale.  It was okay.  You needed something random and fun tonight.  Needed to get out of your head, and Curtis looked like just the man.  And the worst he could say was no, and you would never see him again.

“Hey, it’s fine.  You’ve done plenty for me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“Then let me rephrase it; would you like to come up to my room for a drink? There’s a mini bar.”

“You’re testing fate?”

“I see a sexy man with nowhere else to go tonight.  And I want a drink with him.  There’s two beds,” he gives you a bow, and you start walking towards the elevators.  Everything's in slow motion.  Down to the roaming eyes of Curtis.  Licking his lips as he stares at you, and you are quaking.  

“C’mere,” he whispers when the elevator door closes, and you walk over to him.  His thumb brushes over your cheek gently.  Looking into your eyes as he traces your pouting lips, “You’re shaking.  I won’t hurt you, and I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.  There’s two beds, remember?” 

“I want to use one.”

“Then breathe,” the ding of the elevator has his hand drifting down your front, and grabbing your hand.  Starting to lead the way to the room.  “Key?” You hand him the key, and take your final breath.  You invited him.

The second the door closes, your hand glides up his chest, settling behind his neck, “No mini bar?” 

“Oh, that’s right,” he sighs when you step away from him, going to the bar to get two small bottles of liquor, “Tito’s or Jack Daniels?” 

“I’ll take my chances with Jack.  Join me on the bed?” He plops down, and taps on the bed.  Waiting on you to join him before lifting up his bottle, “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” you copy, drinking the vodka in one sip.  The little bit of alcohol was giving you a bit more of a confidence boost.  Looking up at him as you listen to him start to tell some story.  

You lean more into him, trying to listen to his words, but it is just static.  Curtis looks down at his lap, and his raspy voice moans.  You check to see what he was staring at, and your hand is palming him over his jeans on it’s own accord, “Is this okay?” You ask him with a pout.  Had you read all the signs wrong?  He knew what you were talking about, right?

“I knew exactly where this was going when you asked me for a drink.”

“Oh,” you start to move your hand, but Curtis grabs yours with his own mitt sized hand.  Placing it back over his swollen jeans, and starts your motions again.  “I don’t normally do this.”

“Me neither.  So lets for tonight, toss aside those pesky feelings telling us not to give into our primal needs as humans.  We’ve both been checking each other out tonight, so let’s act on those needs.  Okay?” You nod your head at him, adding a bit more pressure to your movement, “Why now?” He asks, groaning as he leans back on the bed.  Watching you enjoy his hardening member.

“I don’t want to be the person I was in Washington.  I want to have fun.  Be spontaneous.”

“Mmm,” his hips start rocking into the air with your movements.  When you start to undo his zippe, he tugs at your leg, guiding you to straddle him.  His giant sized hands rub up your thighs and to your ass, coaxing you to start grinding on him.

“So picking up men on the side of the road isn’t a normal thing?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head with a smirk.  Getting more into the movements, and you pull off your shirt.  Reaching behind you to undo your bra, you let it fall to the floor as Curtis starts groping your tits.

“Well isn’t today my lucky day?”  Sitting up in bed, he pulls you closer to him.  Peppering kisses along your jaw, and creating a trail all the way to your mouth, and you whimper into him.  His length was right at your core, and he was throbbing.  Just as needy as you.  “You know what you’re doing.”

“Curtis,” you whine as your hips gyrate over him.  Making a mess of his pants already.  It had been awhile since you had sex.  He had his thick fingers gripping the spears of your ass, and pressing you harder on him.  “Do…do you…” you can hardly speak from the kisses he was continuing to assault you with.

“I always carry protection, don’t worry.”

“Curtis, you’re hard.”

“And you’re wet.  What are you going to do about it?” He gives both your nipples a quick pinch, and your movements pick up.  Riding on top of him like your life depended on it.

“I wanna come.”

“Just like this, little lady?” 

“Uh huh,” biting at your lip, you pout at him as you move.

“Then make yourself come.  Enjoy yourself.  I’m not a little boy, I can hold off,” he lets out a guttural moan when you circle your hips over him.  Guiding his hands to your tits, wanting him to play with you while you get off.  

You are soaked, and so close.  Right there.  Hands on his shoulders as your desperately rub one out over him.  Fire courses through your veins, and your movement stutters as the sweetest pleasure races through your veins.

“Thatta, girl,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls a packet out, and reads the expiration date, “Still good,” you crash your lips into his.  Hands rubbing over him before pushing off his jacket, while he yanks your jeans open.  

He flips you over onto the bed, and stands up.  Watching as you struggle to tug your jeans off, but Curtis reaches towards them, yanking both the jeans and panties off at once, hissing when you spread your legs apart.

“Good fucking, girl,” he walks out of his jeans, his cock making his boxer briefs look uncomfortably crowded.  He gives you a wink when he pulls his underwear down.  A thick and heavy cock springs up, and you yip, your legs starting to close.

“You changing your mind already?” 

“No,” you wanted him.  Wanted this.  But that cock was thick.  Almost able to envision the severe stretch he was going to give you.

“You can take it.  And if not, I can make it fit.  We can stop any time, okay?” You nod your head, trying to steady your breathing, “I need your words.  I need to know that you can stop me if you want to stop.”

“Yes.  We can stop at any time,” Curtis pops the packet in his mouth, giving the foil a tear.  His lithe fingers place the rubber on his tip, and he starts to roll it on.  Pressing his knee on the bed, he gives your leg a jerk down the bed, before his wide body kneels between your thighs.

Spitting on his Hanford before roaming his fingers through your folds, “You are drenched.  When did you first get wet?”

“Well…”

“It wouldn’t have been in the car, would it?  I saw you moving your legs,” he pushes two fingers into your weeping cunt while his palm stimulates your clit, “Oh my god.  What a tight little pussy we have here.  You hear that?” He pumps his fingers into you more vigorously.  Your wet heat was making the most vulgar and loud squelching sounds.

“You are a sloppy, little one.  Did I make you that wet?  Oh god, you need to be fucked good and hard, don’t you?” 

“Yes, please,” you beg.  It had been too long.  Almost two years.  One bad breakup had turned you away from men, but now he had you turning into a big slut.  His cock forgotten as he tries to ruin you.  Sex before was all about your boyfriend.  Curtis wanted your pleasure first.  “Please, Curtis.”

“She’s polite, too.  Oh, fuck, she’s a juicy one.  Mmm, I already feel you squeezing me.  Come on.  Uhh, come on,” his fingers curl, and he sets off at an earth shattering speed.  You try to close your thighs when you can’t take anymore, but Curtis shoves them back apart.  “Come on.  Give it to me.  When you come, I’ll fuck you.  You can do it.  Come for me.  You're so close.”

Your hands grab onto the comforter, and you grit your teeth, not wanting to be too loud.  And when you squirt onto his thighs, he keeps pumping.  “There ya go!  There’s a good fucking girl.  Just like that.”

“Oh fuck.’

“That’s what I’m going to do,” getting closer to you, he slaps his cock over your clit, “You still want this?” 

“Yes, please.”

“She is well behaved,” your mouth goes slack as Curtis pushes through your entrance.  Slowly splitting you open as you whimper.  “Holy shit.  My god, you’re a tight little thing.”

“Don’t stop,” you plead as he slows his motion.  “All the way, please,” Curtis continues his journey into your body.  Not stopping until he slides all the way in.  You lift off the bed, staring at where the two of you connect.  “What are you doing?” 

“I’m giving your cunt a moment to stretch, little lady.  You okay?” You furrow your brows, biting your lip as you nod.  “You never had a big dick like this?” 

“It’s like a fucking traffic cone,” Curtis’ eyes close as he chuckles at you.  

“A traffic cone?” 

“It’s so much bigger at the base.  How…how did you get it in there?” 

“And looka here,” his hand rubs over a bump on your stomach, “You feel me all the way in your belly, huh?  That right there is where I’m at.  So you want this traffic cone to fuck you?”

“My god, yes!” 

“Mmm,” his hands rub up and down your thighs.  Giving the tops of your legs the sweetest little tickles before sliding to the backside of your knees.  Lifting your legs before slamming them on the bed beside your body.  Keeping you good and spread so he can watch himself spear into you.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate.  Drawing himself all the way out before plunging back in.  Your hands hold onto his wrists, and you make the most beautiful desperate sounds.  Scratching down his forearms when he picks up his speed.  It felt as if he was pounding his entire weight into you.  Bouncing you further up the bed.

He would love to see you riding his cock, but your pitiful little whimpers and whines of his name have him addicted.  You are reactive.  He gets to see your tits rock with the pounds into you.  He didn’t do this shit.  And after the year he had, it was what he needed.  He needed this warmth.  He hadn’t felt more alone and all while he was with someone, and you were just what he needed.

He hadn’t felt this wanted in a while.  Sex was treated as more of a chore.  Not this desperate need to get off.  It hadn’t been exciting.  It was predictable.  It was when she needed it.  But you are receiving every bit of him.  With the way you are pouting at him, and keeping your eyes only on him, he knows he could have you doing whatever he wanted you to.

Completely into a submissive role, and you didn’t even know him.  “Curtis!” Your whispered screams are giving him life.  The walls of your cunt flutter around him making him completely weak.  He wanted to keep you around.  Newton wasn’t too big.  But just one night was never going to be enough. 

“Curtis!”  Whining out his name as your head tilts back.  

“You keep…keep squeezing me like that, and I’m not — not going to last,” he pants out.  He had never felt someone react like this.  “Let go, little darling.  Let go for me.”

Your pussy quivers, and legs tremble as the hardest orgasm he has ever witnessed from a woman flows through your body.  You clench around him, and his forehead collapses on your shoulder.  Letting your pussy milk him dry.  Hugging every part of him perfect, convulsing around him so hard that he didn’t have to fuck you.  Your walls make sure every drip of his spend fills up the condom, and he can only deeply breathe on you.

“That.  Was.  Incredible.  You breathing?” 

“Barely,” you choke out.  “How many condoms do you have?” 

“Sorry.  I just got the one.  Whew,” he sits back up in the bed, and slowly pulls out of you.  Your cream coated his length so thickly.  “My god.  Oh my god.  I didn’t want to leave you.”

Leaving your legs spread, your eyes start to drift closed.  He figures you have been driving for a long time.  You look so peaceful, comfortable.  Letting your gaping hole be fully visible for him to gaze at.  When he starts to lay on the other bed, you jolt up, “Sleep in this bed.”

“There’s two beds.”

“Then we’ll sleep in that one.  This one is messy,” Curtis shakes his head with a smile.  Pulling the blankets down in the other bed before picking you up bridal style. 

“Fine, you twisted my arm.  I need you to have at least panties on.  Where’s a clean pair?” 

“Backpack,” he pulls on his own underwear before bringing your backpack over to you.  “Where are you going?” 

“You need water.  Panties.  Then sleep.”

“Okay,” you even shimmy your shoulders.  It didn’t take much to make you happy.  He definitely wanted to see you again.  Maybe start from the beginning and take you out on a date.  Spend some time together before he tells you about his complicated life.  But for tonight, he was just going to lay down beside you.  

Sending a text to Jax, he crawls in the bed with you.  He didn’t know why you are so comfortable, but holding a soft woman for the night isn’t something he was going to complain about.  He was just going to let you sleep.  Rest.  Tomorrow was a new day.

Pulling into the beautiful home, you crumple up that piece of paper, and toss it into the floorboard.  You knew it was too good to be true, and are slightly annoyed for getting your hopes up.  He was a man that you picked up on the side of the road, and had the best sex of your life.  Curtis was generous enough to leave his number on the pad of paper at the hotel, but you woke up alone.  Nothing was stolen, so you are thankful for that, and that you are still alive.

And now it was back to the reason why you were here.  A ridiculously large house, and what waits inside.  They had to be rich.  A well dressed woman, holding a baby, swings the door open wide.  Her arm flails around as she waves to you, “Oh my gosh!  I was so scared that you wouldn’t come, and you are early.  Come on, please.  Hey,” she gives you a strong handshake, and then makes her baby wave to you.  

“Ah!!  I’m so glad to finally meet you.  I’m Tati, and this sweet, beautiful, perfect, and angelic little thing is Poet.  But she will also go by Poe.  Poe, can you say hey,” the baby babbles a bit, but a hey does come out.  “So, I know this kind of a last minute thing.  We gotta wait on my…husband.  I’m having to fly out unexpectedly.  Oh, but don’t think that you have to definitely take the job.  My parents said they can help.  He’s taking the day off.  Uh, so first things first, if you say yes, you will have the pool house.  It’s a fully functioning house.  I don’t travel too often, but a fair amount.  The times that I do, at night, her daddy will have her.”

“Dada,” Poet whispers.  She giggles a bit before hiding her face on her mom’s shoulder.  Slowly peeking over at you grinning, and you give her a sweet smile.

“Obviously the whole house you will have access to.  Poet’s room is downstairs.  Your background check is impeccable, you’re up to date with your immunizations, speak French.  Honestly on paper you’re perfect, so I’m expecting you to have some flaws somewhere.  Anyways, ahh!  Sweet girl, guess who is here?” She looks out the window, smiling down at her adorable baby.

“Dada!  Aye!” 

“Yay!!  Daddy is going to be with you all day today.  How exciting!”

“Aye!” She claps her hands.  Her mouth moving with no words.  She was a daddy’s girl.

You turn towards the door with Tati, and your heart drops.  In walks the sexiest man that you have ever met.  The man that you could still feel all over you.  The man that had left you early in the morning, leaving you alone.  The man who was your possible employer’s husband.

“Curtis, I hate to do this.  But I got called out at the last minute.  You know.  Anyways, thank you for taking the day off.  I’ll be back in two days.  If you decide you want the job, Curtis can give you all the lock codes.  I left a list of Poe’s medicine’s and allergies on the fridge.  Emergency numbers on the hall calendar.  There’s a book with all the main contact numbers on it, but Curtis can show you everything else.  Eeee!! I hope you decide to stay.  Poe can’t quit looking at you.  I think that she likes you.  Anyways, bye my sweet angel.  Ah, you’re such a saving grace.  Thank you so much.  Bye.”

She gives Curtis a kiss to his cheek before grabbing her suitcase by the door.  Continuing to blow kisses to her baby as she walks out, and you and Curtis are left staring awkwardly at one another.

“Dadadadada.”

“I’m her daddy.”

“Mhmmm,” that much was obvious.  What wasn’t obvious was that he was married as he was fucking into you last night.  You even gave him in the middle of the night head, and he fingered you back to sleep.

“Oh, so we’re going to be like that now?  I had you saying please all night last night.”

“Ugh,” this was a bad idea.  Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.  Nothing was going to be different here.  It was always going to be the same.

“Can you at least let me explain?  You gotta.  Look at this beautiful girl.  Poet Isabella, can you tell Grace, please?” 

“Peas,” she whispers, her chunky little legs kicking around.

“You can’t say no to that.  When you said please, didn’t I listen?” He might have listened, but he left out that he was married.  He was fucking married to your maybe employer.  He was married, and he was inside of you.

“This…this is very different and you know,” he shrugs his shoulders.  Walking over to a fenced in area, and he sits his daughter down.  His eyes looking at her, completely ignoring you.  “Fine.  Explain.”

“What happened to those manners?” Oh, he was an asshole.  You didn’t have to listen to this.  Didn’t have to put up with this, and then he purposefully places his left hand where you can see it, and you sit down on the couch.

“Please, explain.”

“Thatta girl.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​  

[caw4brandon]

How to End a Story

Stories are often told through two styles. It's either a recollection of something that has already happened. Or, it's an ongoing event happening to the character's life.

The story can be told through just one main character or multiple characters but like all stories. They have to end. Let's discuss the ending of three shows that I recently watched. (I'll try not to get into the spoilers)

- They're Not just Frogs -

< Amphibia > by Matt Braly; follows three girls; Anne, Sasha and Marcy who stole a mysterious music box that transported them into another world of talking frogs, toads, newts and other horrifying monsters.

Our main character is Anne Boonchuy who found her temporary home with the Plantars; Hop Pop, Sprig and Polly. A small family of frogs who took Anne in and helped her better understand the world. The show is good at using little segments to build the world. Such as a mind manipulation sentient spore, the divisions between the main races and the mystery behind the music box.

Story-wise, the show tried to make the flow of events happen at a nicer pace. Season 1 was used on Anne to better understand the world and how things have changed between her friends. Season 2 used that change to add another twist to their relationship. As the seasons progress, the cast slowly expands.

The show eases in the main trio and their new friends. Some episodes foreshadowed what was coming for the characters, and some felt pointless. With a cast that big, it would slow the story down but surprisingly, it felt okay.

You get to spend some time with them, learn what makes them tick, what changed them and how they felt about the current state of the story. As a person who had some regrets in life, I really liked Sasha Waybright's development. She went from someone who took charge to becoming a character who matured into a better person. Giving her time to improve, showed that she improved but is still a work in progress.

As far as the ending goes, I felt a little bittersweet. I liked that it ended and that the big arc of the main trio is resolved but I would really like to see an expansion for how they deal with all the events they went through as it was rather traumatic. Thankfully, we have fan artists for that!

- Eat This Sucka!!! -

It would be impossible to avoid spoilers when < The Owl House > by Dana Terrace was at its peak. Spoilers were happening left and right!

Context, The Owl House follows the outcast teen; Luz Noceda who was meant to go to a summer camp. On the day she was about to go. Luz got distracted by a thief who went through a mysterious door that led Luz into the Demon Realm.

The series takes on a familiar arc where the outsider; Luz learns the ways of the witches but with her own creativity and innovation. Luz also resides under the care of the Owl Lady; Eda Clawthorne, King and Hooty (The house itself)

As the seasons progress, Luz helps the other witches her age improve and come out of their shells. Importantly, she finds new friends she never had in the human realm.

The Owl House is a show of obviously coded Queer characters and individuals that don't fit with the norm. Dana is a genius that never made a big fuss over the fact that some characters are openly Queer. Although the studio; Disney tried to limit the screentime to avoid public outcry.

The show is my first-ever witness to openly Queer characters being completely normal about it instead of being preachy. Perhaps this has to do with the title; Demon Realm.

"Where the general belief of the overzealous conservatives in a so-called Good and Righteous God thinks that's where Queer people and other abnormal people belong."

The main villain; Belos tries his hardest to "purify" the realm by limiting how witches use magic and violently persecute anyone who opposes these new rules. It's a symbolic view of the Puritan tyrant. That their ways are destined to be divine when it was all a ruse to further their own personal agenda.

The show suffered a mess of developments as Disney has a strong Anti-Queer policy with their shows. But Dana, the sneaky bastard that she is. (he says affectionately) Slipped in undeniable proof that the characters are proudly Queer and the Puritian miserably fails.

The ending was pure cinema! The show uses Luz's perspective to show that kids can have their own complexities and what we may think is good may not be what is right for said person. The show also displays good values of being open to change, that it's never too late to right the wrongs and Weirdos Gotta Stick Together.

- The Freaky Friends -

We finally came to my favourite show of this batch. < Hilda > by Luke Pearson is a fun and adventurous show about a young girl who loves adventures living in a world that is brimming with magic. I would like to talk more about it but I've already covered that in [The Beautiful World of Hilda]

For the sake of this post, I'm only focusing on Season 3. The final season of the series. While the show is not as plot-driven as the latter mentions. I think there is much to be said about the breath of fresh air Hilda brings to the table.

Hilda has a special place in my heart for how she managed to bring wonder and joy into my viewing experience. This season, took on a more ominous turn where the adventures get deadlier and the stakes get higher in this little world of the blue-haired adventurer.

Season 3 was commented on by the viewers as "underwhelming and inconclusive" and that it tore its own "fan theories" apart. Personally, I loved that the showrunner revealed everything and also nothing because that's the point.

Hilda is not about a big mystery, it's a pure adventure and curious exploration of the mythology surrounding Trollberg and the rest of the world in Hilda. The feeling of fulfilment but also, melancholy that the series has ended is in my opinion, the best conclusion.

Admittedly, I didn't know how to end the post. I just wanted to get my thoughts out about these three shows and how it ended. It feels like the end of another era. A close to another chapter for animation and the stories it can tell.

These three shows; Amphibia, The Owl House and Hilda proved that animation is still taking new heights but still maintains the charm of what stories are. A good ending where the arc may be over but the adventures will still carry on.

It's been a fun and tear-jerking journey with Hilda, Luz and Anne. Their worlds are unique and brimming with excitement that I haven't felt in years and a desire to catch up more.

I'll miss them dearly but hey, such is the life of an adventurer. Don't be sad that it's over. Be happy that it happened and above all. Go make your own stories!

[viviennevermillion]

finding solace

notes: i don't feel like this one lives up to my usual standards of writing i hold myself to because i wrote it while experiencing writer's block and mental health issues but i really wanted to write something.

also if you like my works, feel free to commission me!

word count: 2.7k

contains: leona kingscholar x gn!reader, comfort, reader has depression

warnings: symptoms of depression, non-sexual nudity (taking a shower together)

dark content creators & consumers do not interact

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The sun broke through the blinds in an almost grotesque, unnerving way. Or at least, that was what it felt like for you. Seeing Leona of all people be more active than you was a bad sign by itself, but your own mood was something you could hardly ignore at this current moment. The more time passed, with you idly laying in your boyfriend’s bed, covered only half by the blanket and the bedsheets a mess from the tossing and turning you had done throughout the day; the worse you started to feel. But anything you could do seemed as pleasant of an idea as climbing a whole mountain right now. You scolded Leona often enough, but this was probably what he felt like all the time. Minutes seemed to turn into hours and you wanted to cry but the tears were far from coming out. You knew crying could sometimes make one feel better but it seemed like not even that was an option for you now. 

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, tired and exhausted; then setting it down and trying to rest but ultimately realizing destiny was hellbent on keeping you awake, no matter if your eyes became red and felt like they were burning. So you gave up and picked up the phone again. What was the point of anything right now?

You wished there was at least something you were looking forward to in the near future that would motivate you to do something or make you feel happier. But all there was, left a bland taste in your mouth and a hopeless expression of defeat in your eyes as you gazed up to the ceiling in a desperate search for anything that wouldn’t bore you to death. Leona wasn’t a big help either. He had his own depressed state of mind to deal with and right now that consisted of laying in bed next to you, not doing anything as well. You tried to snuggle closer to him but no position you found in his arms brought you the comfort and happiness you were used to. It was warm in Savanaclaw and you wished the blinding sun and the heat would be replaced by a cool wind of the night, even if it was just 10 minutes.

Leona had told you a story once of one of the kings of the past who ran away from the palace after a coup when he was just a child; collapsing in a merciless drought and destined to die of thirst and heatstroke had it not been for two kind strangers who’d take care of him and look after him. That was how you felt at this moment. Like you were left in a barren wasteland as the sun was looking forward to grill you alive, even though Leona had put up a ventilator in front of the bed so you’d be more comfortable. 

You could see from the corner of your eyes that he was watching you, silently, as the minutes passed and nothing happened. You wondered what was on his mind. He gave you your answer soon enough.

“You don’t seem to be doing too well there, herbivore”, he commented and turned your head to face him. You simply shrugged, not knowing what to respond. Leona’s expression darkened. He was used to this attitude from himself, but seeing you like this; with the same lack of energy and optimism as him; made his heart ache. He had long since given up on himself but in his eyes you deserved so much. You deserved that beautiful smile he slowly but deeply fell for and you deserved to feel excited and hopeful. 

He hated to see you like this. If anything motivated Leona on days like these it was trying to make sure you were at least content. Ever since he had confessed to you, he had been coming to classes more frequently and trying to fill his day with more activities. He could hardly motivate himself to do anything for himself but doing things for you gave him that final kick needed to get up from the bed and stay up.

He absentmindedly looked at you for a while; lying next to him with your eyes closed. Leona was lost in his own thoughts and when his attention shifted back to you, he noticed there were tears staining your cheeks now. Your slowed breathing indicated that you had fallen asleep at last and Leona propped himself up on his right elbow to press a kiss to your forehead. Get well soon, herbivore…, he thought and gently caressed your cheek before getting up from the bed.

When you woke up, Leona was nowhere to be found. You tried calling out to him but he didn’t respond. Just as you sat up to scan the room for signs of where he might have gone, the door to Leona’s room opened. Your boyfriend entered and tossed his leather jacket loosely onto the desk chair. You hadn’t even woken up by him leaving.

“Where did you go?”, you asked curiously. “You’ll see”, Leona gave you a reassuring smile, “I got a surprise for you. But first, we should take a shower. It’ll do you good.” You rubbed your eyes in an exhausted motion and kicked the bedsheets off you. “Are you trying to say I smell bad?”, you groaned and Leona rolled his eyes. “No. The counselor they sent me to after I…uh…got a little too enthusiastic about winning the Spelldrive Tournament; well anyway, they said that sometimes a cold shower, a walk or somethin’ like that can already make a big difference in my mood or whatever”, he ran a hand through his hair. That’s a very mild way to say ‘overblotted’, you thought but refrained from commenting on it. “By the way, I got us food”, Leona handed you a bag with a bunch of meaty snacks, “I even got you a vegetable.” You reached inside the bag, inspecting the contents. “Leona, that’s just a whole cucumber.” “If ya don’t want it, I’ll give it to someone else, herbivore.” You glanced at him for a moment before starting to eat the cucumber. Not what you would have picked for lunch, but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?

“Anyway, you comin’?”, he asked and gestured towards the bathroom. You nodded weakly before Leona went to grab some towels, but you didn’t find the energy to get up; scrolling through the same five apps on your phone again but having run out of anything new to look at. “Herbivore?”, Leona called out and entered his room again, to find you with one leg and one arm off the bed; trying to motivate yourself to just get up and join him. He sighed and grabbed a water bottle from the desk. “Your mandatory hydration”, he commented dryly as he handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow at him but drank quite a bit of it, finding that you’ve needed this after all. As soon as you had finished, Leona just picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, gently putting you down on the edge of the bathtub. 

“Thank you”, you sighed, grateful that Leona had done for you what felt like it’d take you another 30 minutes. When you stepped into the shower, you wrapped your arms around Leona’s waist and rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes once more as you let the water run over you. “It’s cold”, you complained as Leona took care of everything for you. “It’s supposed to be, genius”, he mumbled as he applied the shower gel to your skin, “otherwise you’d probably fall right back asleep and wake up feeling even worse. Trust me, I know.” The last sentence was nothing more but a quiet whisper but you picked up on it anyway. 

You remembered the past few days and how you could hardly tell what happened on which day of the week because they all seemed to blend into one another like a never ending loop of mediocrity. You remembered the stress and your worries for the future. And suddenly you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Quiet sobs left your lips and Leona’s ears instantly perked up at the signs of distress coming from you. 

You gasped in surprise as you were met with the cold water from the shower head directly into your face. “What the fuck, Leona?”, you hissed. “It got you to stop sobbin’”, Leona shrugged and you noticed that he was right; you were becoming aware of your surroundings again and your breathing calmed down a bit. Leona lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. “I love you, herbivore. So cheer up. Don’t make me worry so much, alright?”, he said and patted your head.

He hugged you from behind and his voice became softer as he nuzzled your neck. “I love you so much. Don’t forget that, okay?”, he whispered and pressed kisses to your cheek and your neck repeatedly until you had stopped crying, “I can’t stand to see you like this.” To see you like me, he thought but kept that to himself. “I hope I can lift your mood a little”, Leona gave you that soft smile only you got to see and kissed your lips gently.

Once you stepped out of the shower, you felt refreshed and already a lot better than before. You helped Leona dry off his hair, a smile finding its way to your face when you saw how the water pearled off his ears and how they flicked when you were rubbing them with the towel. This didn’t go unnoticed by Leona. He crossed his arms with an annoyed expression. “Why is it that when you feel like shit and you smile for the first time again, it’s always from treatin’ me like an oversized cat?”, you could hear the pouting tone in his voice and a chuckle escaped you. “You’re cute”, you smirked and booped his nose. “Stop that”, he warned but leaned into your touch immediately when you started to caress his ears with your fingertips, sighing softly, "the things I put up with to see you happy..."

“So, what was that surprise you wanted to show me?”, you asked once the two of you had gotten dressed again. “Put on a jacket. Something warm”, Leona grabbed a small backpack and you could hear the jingling of keys, “we’re gonna go on a small trip.” Curious about where he would take you, you followed him out of the dorm. Outside of the Hall of Mirrors, Leona gestured towards a Magical Wheel which had been parked at the side of the building. “I rented that one while you were slumbering”, he tossed you a helmet and smirked at you, “hold on tight or I might just lose you and never look back.” You poked his side in response to his teasing.

“You should put on a helmet too”, you crossed your arms. “I’ll be fine”, Leona said, putting the key into the engine and starting up the vehicle. “Leona.” “Fine, I’ll wear the damn helmet”, he rolled his eyes and then grinned at you, “I’ll keep it on for the rest of the day and watch you complain that you’re not getting any kisses.” You sighed but got onto the vehicle behind him after Leona had put on his helmet. You wrapped your arms around Leona's waist, trying to adjust to the movement of the Magical Wheel. It was a little intimidating at first, given how different it was to a regular car; but Leona kept you safe and even though he teased you a little, you could tell he made sure not to drive any faster than you were comfortable with.

As you made your way down the path on the hill that Night Raven College was located on, you could see the village on the island as well as the ocean; the light of the sun now seemed a lot softer and bearable than it had been about an hour ago. You could feel the pressure of the wind as Leona drove the vehicle across the island, giving you the scenic tour of the area. 

The two of you stopped by the lake and the forest for short breaks, laying down in the grass next to each other while gazing up at the vibrant green of the trees and the red apples that grew on them. You could hear the humming of the birds and watched the clouds pass by. “That one looks like you”, you pointed at one and poked Leona. “How the fuck does that look like me?”, the second prince raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning your overactive imagination. “It’s pretty”, you just shrugged and Leona leaned over you, smirking and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I can live with that answer”, he chuckled and his ears twitched while he did this. 

You kissed his lips gently and could feel Leona smile into the kiss. 

The sinking feeling in your chest you had felt for the whole day wasn’t fully gone yet, but every new thing you saw and every word Leona spoke to distract you seemed to soothe the pain a little and made it something you could deal with and overlook with ease. 

Your final stop was the beach near Royal Sword Academy. The sun was already beginning to set and you had taken your shoes off to walk along the shore, holding Leona’s hand. He squeezed it gently and gave you a reassuring smile, as if to tell you silently that things were going to be okay eventually. You’d figure things out together. 

He then grabbed your hand and took a bite out of the hot dog you had bought for yourself. “Hey”, you protested and Leona smirked at you. “Sorry herbivore…but surely you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “take some pity on me, the bird took mine.” He gestured towards the seagull in a couple meters distance, picking at Leona’s meal that it had stolen from him. “Prince Leona Kingscholar, king of the beasts, bested by the common seagull”, you exclaimed with a false notion of drama and tragedy in your voice. “I could grill that little bastard here and now if I wanted to”, he crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, “I decided to have some mercy today.” “Sure”, you laughed and raised your eyebrows. 

The waves crashing onto the shore felt cold when they met the skin of your feet but in a way the sensation also helped to ground you. “Feeling better?”, Leona asked and you could hear worry in his voice; something he only felt comfortable showing around you. “A little”, you nodded and picked up a seashell from the sand, inspecting it as you turned it in your hand. “Do you feel ready to go back to the dorm?” You hesitated for a moment, then shook your head. 

Leona sat down in the sand, pulling you onto his lap and resting his head against yours as the two of you watched the sunset together. “That’s fine by me”, he said, wrapping his tail around you, “we can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t mind.”

You remained silent for a while, running your fingers along Leona’s tail absentmindedly. “I love you”, you whispered and leaned back against his chest. “I love you too”, Leona said quietly, closing his eyes as the wind brushed through his hair and the sunset made his skin feel a comforting warmth. Things weren’t easy on days like these. But both of you knew, come what may, you always had each other to lean on. Things had changed from the days of being alone with your thoughts and having to sort out your feelings by yourself. Whenever one of you was feeling down, the other usually found the strength to get up and drag both of you to a place that gave you comfort. 

“You know, I think I’m going to keep the ride for a while”, Leona nodded towards the Magical Wheel with a smile on his face, “nothin’ much to see here after 3 years of being on this island but I’ll make it work.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Leona”, you whispered and squeezed his hand, "for everything."

[abyssruler]

to dream a dream

xiao x gn reader

sometimes, all it takes to push two people together is a stroke of luck, and sometimes, leaving is as easy as taking on the abyss. perhaps you were a fool for choosing misery, but people like you were never meant for a happy ending. or, xiao meets a star-borne traveler who captures his heart and leaves it fractured for the next 500 years.

angst, not a happy ending (can be read as ambiguous ending), non-linear narrative, long fic, reader is the abyss twin (gender neutral), i wrote most of this back in sept 2021 so might not be accurate on a few lore aspects but i tried my best

Here is how it starts: a shooting star and a lone Yaksha.

Perched atop one of the many mountain peaks in Jueyun Karst, Xiao watches the afternoon sky be split by a streak of gold.

A shooting star.

It’s only when it begins to descend that the lone Yaksha realizes the direness of the situation. He’s quick to summon his spear, disappearing in a swirl of anemo and his own tainted aura. He arrives just in time to see a golden figure fall from the sky and into the ground in the middle of Dihua Marsh.

What greets him when he approaches is the sight of a person laying in the middle of a meteor-sized crater, eyes closed and dressed in clothes that look as if they belonged to another world.

After the war that occurred only a few years ago, and with the looming threat of Celestia hanging above the Seven Nations’s heads, he decides it is best to eliminate the threat this sleeping stranger might pose to Liyue.

The tip of the spear was only a few inches away from its destination when a pair of too-bright eyes open. And for the first time in his long life, Xiao falters from the stare of a stranger.

(He doesn’t know yet that this stranger is the person who will shape his life for the next five hundred years and more.)

✧

You awake to a spear pointed at you.

Your eyes look up from the glinting jade spear and meet molten gold. Hues of amber, orange, and yellows swim in the eyes of this stranger, and despite the situation you’re in, you can’t help but be mesmerized by such a sight.

There is a gaping hole in your memory, but you aren’t in any rush to fill it, too entranced by the view in front of you.

(Later, you will remember. Later, you will despair.

But for now, you look upon the being haloed in fiery light and marvel at the sight.)

The sky behind the stranger is bathed in the hues of the dying sun. It makes him look surreal, ethereal. His suspicious eyes haven’t moved in the slightest, haven’t shown any indication of emotion beyond distrust, but when you look into them, you can almost see the light of your brethren echoed in the brilliance of his eyes.

Your mouth moves before you can control it. You haven’t felt so out of control in a thousand years. “Are you a god?”

You wonder what kind of world you have ended up in to be in the presence of a god—and a god is what this being before you must be. Only gods can mirror the resplendence of the stars within their eyes.

Your question seems to have caught him off-guard. The way his brows knit and the tightening of his hold on his spear don’t escape your dazed eyes.

Not a god?

“Who are you?” the not-quite-god asks, raising his spear closer to you. You pay it no mind, your body is more resilient than most would think at first glance.

As soon as the thought comes, though, you are reminded by the searing pain scorching through your body, the brief moment of wonder at the sight of this beautiful stranger, gone.

What comes out of your lips is a whimper, hands coming up to reach futilely at your back where the pain resides the most. He seems taken aback by the sudden change in your actions, but all your attention is diverted to the searing pain resonating from your back.

It spreads through you, rendering you useless and vulnerable on the ground, a not-quite-deity only a few feet in front if you, capable of ending your life in your current state.

Across your arms, through your legs—it reaches every part of your body. You have never felt so powerless in your life.

He kneels at your evident distress, spear gone as his hands hover over your prone form. You don’t see the expression he wears, and when darkness starts creeping through your vision, you don’t see anything at all.

You feel him pull your body to his chest, lifting you up with ease that belies his strength.

Somehow, despite the agony you’re in, you can’t help but think of how warm this stranger feels.

✧

(You close your eyes and place your hand above your heart, trying to recall that warmth you’ve longed for centuries.

“Your Highness.”

The mask returns. Your eyes snap open, hand falling to your side as you turn a cold stare to one of your mages. The voice that comes out of you is one you don’t recognize—you haven’t for the past five hundred years.

“Is it time?”

The cryo mage lowers its head in deference as it utters an affirmative.

You return your gaze to the scene in front of you before turning away and stepping into a portal. The landscape of Dihua Marsh is pushed away and locked in a box, never to be seen along with your heart.)

✧

When you next open your eyes, you’re struck by the sheer the emptiness within you. The warmth that once pulsed through your veins is now nothing but ice. What used to be ichor is now normal—mortal—blood. The power that once defeated gods and destroyed nations has become nothing. A raging fire reduced to ashes.

You are exceedingly aware of how powerless you now are.

Your hand reaches for your side, only to be met with nothing.

A rueful smile makes its way to your lips.

Was it not enough for that god to take away your powers? Now you’re not only empty, but also one half of a whole.

You wonder if your twin is suffering the same fate as you.

“You’re awake.”

The voice startles you. How lost must you have been in your thoughts to be startled by a stranger. You haven’t been caught off-guard since that fight against the god of thunder four hundred years ago.

Wide-eyed, you turn to the source of the sound. A young man stands near the entrance of the sparce room you found yourself in, clad in clothes and armor that spark a vague sense of recognition in you. Your first meeting is a hazy blur in your mind. Trying to wade through your jumbled thoughts is like trying to cradle sand with your fingers—futile.

Handsome, is what your first thought is. Then you see the way he stands so warily, sharp eyes trained on you and never once blinking—dangerous. In your current state, you don’t think you have the power to take him on in a fight and win.

“I’m a bit disoriented from everything I went through,” you start, eyeing him cautiously and beginning to loosen up when he shows no signs of hostility. You try for a disarming smile, “I’m sorry, but could you tell me where I am?”

He crosses his arms—a good sign or a bad sign? Probably the former. “You are in Liyue, the land of the Geo Archon.”

Liyue.

Geo Archon.

You are in Teyvat, right where Celestia rules.

All the blood drains from your face. You school your expression into one of indifference, but it’s too late. This stranger has already seen the way you paled at the mention of the Geo archon.

Your hands clench around the sheets pooled around your legs so tight they’re nearly numb. His eyes shift at the action before returning to your face, his countenance impassive and closed-off.

“I see.” You’re grateful for the steadiness of your voice.

You pretend to contemplate your situation, all while your mind is running a mile a minute. You muddle through the haze in your memory, trying to recall the snippets of conversation you’ve had and the barest of informations you’ve been given about Teyvat.

Liyue. There are seven nations in Teyvat, one of them is Liyue. Each ruled by a respective Archon.

The Geo Archon.

What did the King say about him—

The King.

Oh.

Now-mortal blood rushes through your ears and leaves a faint ringing sensation. Your fingers unclench, eyes glazing over as you remember one crucial detail that you had forgotten in your haste to escape this world.

The King is dead.

And so is the Queen.

The Lectors, the Royal Guards, the Nobles, the people.

Everyone is…

Your hand reaches for your side.

Your sibling, your only family, your other half is…

It closes around empty space.

…gone.

Oh.

You are the only one left.

“Could I be left alone, please?”

He doesn’t question you, staying for a moment longer before disappering in a whirl of dark smoke and the lingering aura of the weight of deceased gods.

Only after the last traces of the stranger disappears do you let yourself fall apart.

✧

Grief is a word that can be used to describe Xiao’s entire being.

How many people has he lost and mourned in the long years he’s lived and breathed? Too many to count.

Perhaps it is why Xiao so easily conceded to your wish to be left alone. He, who finds more comfort in his lonesome than in the presence of others, knows better than anyone how overwhelming the company of a person during grief can be.

Perhaps he is a fool for letting you go, for acquiesing to your request. You’re a suspicious individual, proven more by your reaction to the mere mention of his god. He should have you incapacitated and interrogated, deem whether you’re a threat to Liyue and its people or not.

But he didn’t, because when he met your eyes, he saw himself mirrored in the nothingness in them.

So he leaves and lets you confront your grief and resolves to be gentler when he questions you tomorrow.

✧

He doesn’t ask about what happened yesterday, doesn’t question why you asked him to leave. He simply sits on the wooden chair in the corner of the small, rectangular room and waits for you to speak first.

You shift from your perch at the end of the thin bed. “I’m sorry for asking you to leave yesterday.”

You don’t elaborate more than that. He seems perceptive enough to know that you’d needed that time to be alone, or at least, you hope he is. The deities of this world, you’ve found, are much more difficult to read than others.

“Don’t think much of it,” he says curtly. Nodding, you wait for him to start the conversation, let him take the lead.

Moments pass. He makes no move to say anything else, only staring at you with those sharp, appraising eyes of his—and they really do look like molten gold. You suspect they’d look resplendent beneath the light of the sun.

Your eyes rove over his form, deciding to break the silence with a question. “Are you a warrior of Liyue?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head whilst crossing his arms. You inwardly sigh at the lack of words, it seems you’ll have to be the one to carry this conversation.

Just when you’re about to open your mouth, he speaks, “I am an Adeptus of Liyue.”

He looks at you as if his words carry a great weight to it. Perhaps it does, but you have no way of knowing so. The word adeptus doesn’t spark anything within your memory. The people of Khaenri’ah never spoke in length about the world above, and you were much too occupied with the wonders Khaenri’ah offered to care much about Teyvat.

So you blink at him cluelessly, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint, still watching you with a stare that would have been unsettling to anyone but you.

The words you’re about to say will probably give this stranger a hint of where you come from—rather, where you don’t come from—but you ask anyway, “May I ask what an adeptus is?”

You then realize that you’re probably not in the position to be asking him questions, but he answers anyway. From the looks of it, he doesn’t seem surprised by your ignorance.

“Adepti are guardians of Liyue. Mortals tend to worship Adepti like deity. Rex Lapis himself is an adeptus.”

Like gods then, but not quite. You suppose that explains why he isn’t so wary of you as opposed to what his reaction would have been if he was human.

You hum at the explanation before blinking at the unfamiliar name. You turn to him contemplatively, wondering if this Rex Lapis fellow is someone important enough that this stranger who claims to be an adeptus might get offended if you asked who he is. Perhaps he won’t, since you’ve already shown that you know little of Liyue’s culture and background.

“And who is Rex Lapis?”

His brows furrow at your response. You brace yourself for the worst, but his expression smoothens out.

“It’s no surprise that you are unfamiliar with the title. Only the people of Liyue call him by that name,” his voice remains calm. Somehow, it reminds you of the ever-composed captain of the Royal Guard (you push away the ache that comes with the reminder of an old friend). “Outside of Liyue, Rex Lapis is more known as Morax.”

Ah, the Geo Archon.

This time, you manage to mask your unease with a faux look of understanding. “I see, so Rex Lapis is the Geo Archon.”

He watches your reaction closely, but you don’t give him the opportunity to catch wind of your less than pleasant thoughts on Morax.

“So you serve him?” you say to divert his attention.

He nods, eyes still trained on you. You don’t think he knows what blinking means. If you’d been a normal person, perhaps you would have been intimidated by it, but after facing countless gods and monsters in battle, you merely find it amusing.

“And you?” he asks suddenly, somehow managing to look even more appraising.

“Me?”

“What nation do you hail from? Your clothes… they are not ones I am familiar with.” He tilts his head to the right in a manner eerily similar to that of a bird’s.

You send him a smile to lighten the weight of your next words. “Well, that’s because I’m from another world.”

✧

You decide to tag along the next time he leaves the little shack.

He still hasn’t deigned you trustworthy enough to know his name, so you refrain from asking him about it. Perhaps the Adepti of Liyue are simply that cautious. It’s a good call, you suppose, it’s always the carefree gods that tend to fall first.

(Five hundred years later, you watch the Dragon of the East ravage the city of Mondstadt with fierce winds. You feel the presence of Barbatos within the winds of Mondstadt, but you fear no god. The carefree Anemo Archon is not an exception.)

He stops by the shade of a tree before turning to you with a look that is distincly unamused. “Following me is unnecessary.”

Placing your hands in front of you innocently, you try for a disarming smile. “But I don’t have anything else to do.”

“There is food inside if you need sustenance.“

“Well, it’s kinda…” you trail off, trying to find the word that would least offend him, “Bland.”

He shakes his head. “The taste doesn’t matter. It’s for nourishment.”

“In some worlds, food is considered to be one of the most sacred things. A bland meal can be considered sacrilege, or simply disrespectful to your guest.” His brows furrow, before he can take offense to your words, you continue, “Have you ever tasted food that made you want to take another bite instead of simply eating it because it’s needed?”

“…What is your point?”

You clasp your hands in front of you. “My point is that we should go to the nearest market and shop for ingredients. I promise my cooking is top notch.”

He refutes you with a quick, “No.”

That won’t stop you though. “Fine. You can stay here and eat those tasteless food. I, on the other hand, am going to find the nearest town and buy myself good food.”

You begin to walk away, only to halt when a jade spear is held out in front of you.

“I cannot allow you to roam on your own.”

“Then come with me,” you argue.

There’s a stubborn set to his lips that fades into a quiet sigh. “I will watch you from afar.”

Later that night, when he takes a bite out of the curry you made with your feeble ingredients, you think you see his cold exterior melt a little.

✧

(There’s an emptiness in your stomach that mirrors the hollow shell that is your heart.

It’s been five hundred years since you slept, since you ate, since you last felt alive.)

✧

“Your name is Xiao? That’s a lovely name.”

He averts his gaze at your compliment, a strange feeling in his chest. He doesn’t know why he suddenly cannot look you in the eye, but perhaps it has something to do with the way you so easily said such words to him. It has been many years, but Xiao has never heard anyone call his given name lovely.

Or maybe it’s just you. You, who radiates a kind of brightness that warms and eases the burden of his debt. You, an outlander who claims to not be of this world, cycling through a range of grief and anger while still being open and luminous. He is not known to let people in easily, but throughout the course of a few days, you’ve somehow managed to creep close without his knowing.

Even the townspeople, who he knows have become wary of outsiders because of the war, have started to return your greetings with their own smiles.

“Does your name have a particular meaning?” you ask, laying on your back and uncaring of the grass stains that could potentially ruin your otherworldly clothes.

His mouth parts before he can stop it, and before he realizes it, two hours have passed by simply listening to you tell stories about the worlds you’ve traveled to and the people you met.

✧

On the third month of your stay, he discovers that you have a sibling.

“Will you allow me to leave, or am I still suspicious enough that you won’t let me out of your sights?” There’s a teasing tone to your voice that doesn’t entirely manage to hide the steel undertone to it.

Xiao shakes his head. “No. You are trustworthy.”

But the true reason he was displeased about this situation is—

“Don’t miss me too much, Xiao. I’ll only be gone for a few months at most!”

You’re heading off to Mondstadt to search for further clues on the whereabouts of your sibling.

✧

There’s something you would almost describe as electric in the way he stares at you after you return from your two month journey in Mondstadt, where all you found were questions and more riddles to add to the puzzle that happened in Khaenri’ah.

“Did you miss me?” you ask with a sly grin that turns into pleasant surprise at his response.

“I did.”

With a smile, you sidle up next to him on the bench and bump your shoulders together, acutely aware of the spot where your arms meet.

✧

“So I figured out a way to cook this new recipe I found at the Harbor. It’s called almond tofu.” You proudly present your latest masterpiece to him. “Think of it as a parting gift before I leave for Inazuma.”

His eyes widen at the first bite he takes.

You pester him whether the taste was good or if it was too sweet.

“It’s… good.” And that was about as close as you could get to attaining a five star rating from him.

You sit next to him, plucking up the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. “Don’t miss me too much, Xiao.”

(Oh, but he would.)

✧

“How was Inazuma?”

You laugh, still mourning your singed hair. “Pretty but dangerous. Did you know I got hit by lightning at least twenty times?”

“And what of your sibling?”

“Ah, still nothing.” You’re quick to mask the disappointment in your face. “But I’m sure Sumeru will have more answers for me. It’s the nation of wisdom after all.”

You slump on the grass, looking up at Xiao who stood beside you. There’s a hesitant look on his face as he takes something out of his pocket. He kneels on the grass next to you, something glinting on the palm of his hand.

“I realize that you will be encountering more dangers in your travels.” He eyes the bandages peeking from your sleeves. “This is an adepti amulet, meant to ward off evil, and…”

You sit up, closing your palm around his and taking the amulet. “And…?”

He breathes out at the brief contact between your hands. “And if you find yourself in danger, in a situation where you cannot bring yourself to kill, call out my name and I will be there.”

✧

“They called me a golden Nara.”

Xiao is quiet as he listens to you recount your brief journey to Sumeru, silently admiring the glow in your face and the smile that brightens your features.

“But they forgot about me,” you finish, something like grief, like the emotion that used to hang around your shoulders when he first met you, flashing through your face. You turn to him, reaching out to grab his hand. “You won’t forget about me, won’t you, Xiao?”

(In five hundred years, he will cling to these moments with you and despair his inability to forget.)

✧

“I don’t think I’ll leave for Fontaine soon.”

“Why?”

“I just… want to spend more time with you, is all.”

(In Sumeru, you discovered the abominations left behind by Gold and realized the depth of an old friend’s betrayal.)

✧

“Tell me more about the stars.” They are reflected in your eyes, glittering lights that remind him of the constellations of this world. If Xiao looks closely enough, he thinks he’ll see the beginning and the end of the universe itself.

You turn to him with a serene smile, and in that moment, Xiao cannot fathom why he had ever doubted your claims of being a star-borne traveller.

(“I’m… well, to put it simply, I’m a star.”

He looked at you as if you’d grown a second head within the span of a second. Brows furrowed, mouth set in disbelief, you’d only laughed at his expression then.

He thinks you might be used to these kinds of responses to your claims of being a star.)

“I’ll tell you a little secret,” you say, scooting closer to him until your noses are practically touching. He feels his ears warm at your proximity, but you don’t seem to mind the closeness. “Sometimes, if a person wants something enough, I can hear them if they wish in the presence of a star.”

You then lean away from him, and Xiao feels the loss of your presence keenly. He shakes the thought off his mind, preferring to watch as you sumon a small constellation from the palm of your hand.

“It’s why people wish upon shooting stars. Ah, but the shooting stars won’t hear them. They’re usually either asleep or in the middle of travelling, so if you need to wish to the stars, direct your wishes to the dormant stars in the sky. They’re usually the ones that hear your wishes.”

He watches, mesmerized as you animatedly talk of your people and the nature of stars. He isn’t so much taken with the words coming from your mouth, but with the way your eyes light up and the little gestures you make with your hands as you try to explain the concept of wishing to him.

“Xiao,” you call, and he snaps to attention at the sound of his given name. There’s a sheepish smile on your face, it’s not until he feels something warm wrap around his hand that he realizes why you’re wearing such an expression.

He looks down at your joined hands, heart thundering inside the confines of his chest. Your fingers close around his palm, while his own hand is laying limply, making no move to reciprocate the gesture.

Xiao doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He has never held anyone’s hands before, the closest he’s ever come to it was when he accepted the hand Rex Lapis offered to him. But this is different, Xiao is adept enough to know that. He doesn’t know what to do, the only thing he knows is that the warmth emitting from your palm to his feels nice.

He wants to stay like this forever.

It’s a strange feeling, one he doesn’t understand. But when you start to pull away from him, a hint of embarrassment painted in your features, he unconsciously grips your hand in a fierce hold to keep it in place.

“I thought you didn’t like being touched?”

Xiao has spent enough time with you to know when he is being teased. Still, he decides to answer your question.

“I don’t,” he says bluntly. He feels you begin to pull away at his response, so he adds, “But since it’s you…” he clasps your hand and holds it in place, not allowing you to retreat from him, “I will allow it.”

You look at him in surprise. He turns his head away to hide the rising heat in his cheeks, and in doing so, he fails to see when your surprised expression morphs into something more gentle, adoration hidden within the curve of your lips and the slight crinkle to your eyes.

“Xiao,” you call again. Reluctantly, he tilts his head to meet your eyes, and the sight of you leaves him breathless. With the soft glow of the moon’s reflected light and the reflection of the stars within your eyes, Xiao thinks you would outshine even the highest gods in Celestia.

He swallows, hiding the swirling emotions threatening to break out of his chest with a quiet, “Yes?”

You turn away from him, and he thinks it’s for the best. If you looked at him any longer than you had, he would have drowned in your light. Raising a finger, you point to one of the many stars in the sky. He follows your gaze to a set of stars in the inky sky, not recognizing which constellation it is.

“That’s my constellation.” As soon as the words leave your lips, his eyes sharpen on the smattering of stars, trying to discern what pattern they should form. The name of your constellation leaves your lips as you trace patterns in the air, and he does his best to memorize it, repeating the name in his head like a mantra, though he knows that he won’t forget it for as long as he lives, just as he knows he will never forget you.

You turn to him then, your hold on his hand tightening for a brief moment. “You told me to call your name if I need help, now it’s my turn to return the sentiment.”

You breathe in a heavy breath before releasing it just as quickly.

“Xiao, if you need me, whether it’s for something as mundane as wanting someone to make you almond tofu or if… if the voices become too much, wish for me.” Unexpectedly, you pull his hand from the ground and hold it with both hands in front of your chest, right where your heart is. “Wish for me beneath the light of my constellation, and I’ll be there.”

✧

“They call you the Golden-Winged King, why is that?”

“It’s an allusion to my true form, as Adepti are also known as illuminated beasts.”

You lean close, breath warm against his face with your proximity. “Can I see it?”

“See it?”

“Yes! Can I see your true form?”

Xiao’s initial recation is to say no immediately, but the excitement in your eyes brings him pause, mulling over his decision. “…Perhaps some other day.”

You nod, conceding to his wish. Then, you turn your head up to the sky, watching the birds soar over the clouds wistfully.

“Once I regain my powers, I’ll show you my wings. They’re gold like yours, so we’ll match.” You wink, and it sends something warm coursing through him.

Xiao imagines your body haloed in golden light and thinks no other sight could compare.

✧

(Your golden wings unfurl for the first time in a hundred years. There is no one but you and rotting corpses to witness it.)

✧

“When will you leave for Fontaine?”

“Are you that eager to get rid of me?”

His eyes widen at the accusation. “No, I was…” His eyes narrow when you start laughing into the palm of your hand. Sighing, he lets your teasing go. “I merely wished to be prepared.”

You lean your weight on him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hm, I’m not sure. I… I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

King Irmin’s silhouette watches you from the corner, a finger pointed accusingly at you. You blink and it’s gone.

Why haven’t you sought justice for our nation?

You close your eyes. “It’s a good day for picking flowers, isn’t it?”

If Xiao is bothered by your sudden change of topic, he doesn’t let it show.

✧

You think you would have been content staying here in Teyvat, living a life of leisure in Liyue with Xiao, venturing to other nations to look for clues on the whereabouts of your sibling.

You have grown soft. If the souls of the enemies you’d slain in other worlds could see you now, they wouldn’t be able to reconcile the sight of the warrior who flew through the sky and fell gods with their blade to the sight of you now, a crown of qingxin flowers in your hair courtesy of Xiao and a basket of herbs in one hand.

Here in the forest of Wuwang Hill, despite the chill in the air and the abundance of ghost stories spread by elders, you feel content. A feeling you haven’t felt since you were separated from your twin.

You would have been at peace with staying here; bury the memories of a broken civilization and the cries of its people; ignore the castle in the sky that continues to taunt you with the constant reminder of your loss; brush off the fleeting desire to destroy each statue you come upon and turn it into dust. Xiao loves his god, and you respect his love even if you despise Morax.

You would have been happy with what you have.

But then you turn around, and you are greeted with the sight of a ghost.

He utters your name.

You whisper his in response.

“Dainsleif.”

✧

You thought you were content with this normal life, but when has normalcy ever suited a person like you?

The Twilight Sword looks at you like you’re his last salvation—and perhaps you are. Perhaps it is your destiny to be the salvation of what remains of his people.

“Travel with me, and I’ll show you the truth of this world.” He offers you his hand. It feels like the beginning of the end.

The sight of Khaenri’ah in ruins continues to haunt you to this very day.

You take his hand, the basket of herbs slipping from your fingers.

✧

(In the distant future, Dainsleif wishes he’d left you in peace.)

✧

“I’m going to be gone for longer this time.”

He blinks after you finish speaking, staring at you for a moment as if processing your words, before asking why.

“I’m going to start being more serious in looking for my twin. It might take me more than a month to return,” is your excuse.

Xiao, ever the soft, caring person he is despite his attempt to mask it, doesn’t voice a protest to your decision. Even when you see the slightest purse in his lips that tells you everything you need to know about how he feels about you leaving. You smile and reassure him that you’ll come back to him no matter what.

“Once I find my sibling, I’ll introduce you to each other. I bet you’ll get along!” Your hand finds his, the familiar warmth soothing you, casting away all your doubts and worries.

“Be safe, and remember to call my name should you encounter trouble,” he tells you, fingers interwining with yours.

Your eyes are bright. This world has not yet taken away the light in them, but as you lean forward and rest your head on his shoulder, they dim for an infinitesimal amount.

“Of course.”

The lie tastes like ash upon your tongue.

✧

(Surrounded by the kneeling remnants of Khaenri’ah’s people, you look back on that moment and hear the sound of the death knell.)

✧

“Do you trust him?”

Dainsleif doesn’t have to mention who ‘him’ is for you to know he’s referring to Xiao.

You decide to make sure anyway. “Who?”

“The adeptus.”

A fond smile crosses your face before you manage to hide it. It doesn’t escape Dainsleif’s sharp eyes.

You continue your trek through the stone path, not pausing for a second as you answer, “I trust him with my life.”

✧

(Years later, when you stand alone in the aftermath of Dainsleif’s betrayal, you decide that the only person you can trust is yourself.)

✧

You return after four years, the longest you’ve been away from him, and the first thing you do is collapse in his arms.

“Xiao,” you gasp, limbs shaking and eyes watery. “Xiao.”

You never tell him what happened, only looked at him with an empty smile.

A week after that, you were gone again.

✧

“Your hair is burnt.”

You laugh sheepishly, but it falls flat even to your own ears. “Natlan’s the nation of pyro for a reason. I may have gotten a little carried away.”

His touch feels nice against your scalp, a welcomed relief from the fighting and constant anxiety of whether you would awake to silence or another trumpet signaling the beginning of another war.

“Will you…” You swallow, gritting your teeth and forcing the words to come out. “Will you sleep beside me tonight?”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, merely pulls you to a thin bed that feels heavenly after sleeping on the ground for so long, and lies down with you.

It’s the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.

✧

“I think I’m starting to understand the true nature of this world,” you muse absently.

Xiao looks at you, and though his face remains impassive, you can see that he means to ask what you meant by that. You merely shake your head with a wry smile, heart heavy with emotions you choose not to dwell in right now.

Later, you tell yourself, but not now. Not with Xiao.

So instead, you change the subject to an interesting tid-bit you heard at the markets of Liyue that morning.

“I heard from some of the merchants that there will be a festival next month. One where the entire harbor lights up lanterns during the night.” You watch Xiao closely to gauge his reaction to this.

“Yes, it is the lantern rite festival, to honor the adeptus Sky Bracer who gave his life to defend Liyue during the war,” he replies evenly, looking at you curiously. “Is this the first you have heard of it?”

You nod. “You know I don’t venture much in the harbor when I’m in Liyue.”

He doesn’t say anything to that.

You sidle up closer to him until your shoulders bump. His eyes slide to you, but he makes no move to pull away. Your hand reaches out to hold his gloved one between your own, and the thin cloth separating your skin from each other does nothing to hide the warmth that seeps in you at the simple contact.

You lean your head against his shoulder, his hair softly tickling your forehead, but you don’t mind. The sound of your sigh echoes in the silence between you. It’s a comfortable one.

He shifts his hand, and you let him go for a moment to accomodate him, but instead of pulling away, he intertwines his fingers with yours. Your heart aches at the sight.

Briefly, you wonder how long this peace will last—

Not now, you remind yoursef.

“Xiao,” you start, eyes fixed on your joined hands. You can feel the low rumble from his chest as he hums for you to continue. “Let’s go to the festival someday. I’d like it if we watched the lanterns together.”

You hold your breath, scarcely making a sound as you wait for him to respond. A part of you already knows what he’s going to answer. Xiao is uncomfortable among crowds, he said so to you himself, and the festival is sure to be packed with people wanting to participate in it. You won’t mind if he says no, but a part of you hopes otherwise.

When the silence stretches on for too long, you’re ready to take back your suggestion.

Just as you open your mouth to tell him that you don’t need to go, he speaks.

“Okay.”

You pause, thinking you misheard. You raise your head from his shoulder to look at him properly, blinking at the soft gaze he directs at you.

“Did you just agree?” you question, still not trusting yourself to have heard him right.

“Yes.” Using his free hand, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, touch featherlight and impossibly gentle as his gloved fingers linger for a moment on your cheek. There’s a soft, barely there smile playing upon his lips; a rare sight that you soak up and lock deep in your memory like a dragon might hoard its gold. “Let us go to the festival. Together.”

You stare at the serene expression on his face for a second before breaking out into a smile. It is, perhaps, the only genuine smile you’ve had in a long while.

“And make lanterns too, and watch them be released during the night?” you add.

He nods, thumb stroking the back of your hand.

Then, a thought occurs to you. “I have to leave next week.”

His hand tightens its hold around yours for the briefest of moments before relaxing once more. His tone is hesitant when he suggests, “Then... when you return from your travels, if you are still amenable, we can go see the lanterns together.”

Your pathetic heart beats a familiar tune at his words, but for now, you let it be. For now, you let yourself fall into the familiar pattern love and being loved.

(You hope you return to him when you reach the end of your journey.)

You press your face against his shoulder to hide your pained expression.

Not now, not now, not now, you repeat in your head like a mantra.

His scent engulfs you, the smell of qingxin flowers and almonds; the flowers he picked for you and the sweet dessert that took you months to perfect to his liking—and perhaps a little bit of you in the faint smell of the stars. Home, your mind supplies. Your heart calms at the familiar scent.

You savor this moment, eyes closed as you memorize what it feels to be held like this.

“I’d like that,” you finally answer, and it takes everything in you to not let your inner turmoil creep into the tone of your voice as you spoke.

You feel him nod, his thumb resuming its gentle strokes at the back of your palm.

“I,” here, he pauses, and though he tries not to let it show, you can feel the hesitancy and awkwardness in his next words, so unused to voicing his affections even after all these years, “I look forward to it.”

Your smile is melancholic and strained. You’d like nothing more than to gaze at his beautiful face and immortalize each feature in your mind—the slant of his eyes, the arch of his brows, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips—but right now, you are more grateful that he can’t see the look on your face.

Hope is a dying ember within the cage of your hollow heart, but you keep it burning, even when it only remains as a tiny spark. For Xiao, you keep it alive.

You know, at the end of this journey, that spark will be reduced to nothing but ashes, but for now, you’re content to let it warm you as you hold his hand and pretend that you and him are the only people in this cruel world.

(You wonder, in the end, if it was worth it.)

✧

Xiao watches you raise a hand in the air, waving it in a subdued manner as you walk backwards down the dirt road. The light of the setting sun casts a molten glow behind you, casting your face in darkness, such that he is unable to discern what sort of expression you have at this moment.

Are you grinning at him, like the first time you ventured out of Liyue to explore the rest of Teyvat? Or do you hold a worried frown, like the last time you left and didn’t return for years?

He doesn’t know, even when you turn around to face the road and the setting sun, the sight of your retreating back etched in his memory, he doesn’t know. (It haunts him, during the first few decades after you’ve gone, how much he doesn't know.)

He stays to watch until your silhouette disappears in the distance, the sun having long set and the sky bathed in inky darkness, and he stays long until you're gone.

(He wonders, for the next centuries to come, if he should have asked you to stay.)

✧

Dainsleif doesn’t question the redness of your eyes when you arrive at your agreed meeting place, merely nodding his head in greeting as he follows you down the path that will take you away from the harbor.

It’s the last time you ever feel grateful towards him.

✧

In the frozen wastelands of Snezhnaya, you meet an old friend.

His name slips from your frozen lips, eyes wide in shock and hope.

“I go by the name Pierro now. The Jester, if you will.”

It’s the last words you hear before his hand pierces your heart.

✧

Once, in one of his harshest nights, when the pain became too much and the voices too loud, Xiao contemplated letting the darkness take him.

Lying in an unknown field somewhere in Dihua Marsh, with his senses overcome with nothing but pain as he tried desperately to hold on, he wished you were there. His fingers dug into the soil beneath him, teeth gritted and small grunts of pain escaping his mouth that he futilely tried to smother.

In the haze between wakefulness and unconsciousness, when all he could register was the agony coursing through him, he dreamt of you.

Xiao remembers your cold touch as you placed his head on your lap. He wanted to reach up to trace the curve of your cheek to see if you were truly there, but his hands refused to move, stuck in a haze. With your hands cupping his face, the pain became more bearable, became a distant thing in his mind so that all he could focus on was on you—the way the moon set its pale light on your features, highlighting every part of you that he loved.

You had looked ethereal in that dream. Despite your hollow eyes and emotionless visage, to him, you were simply beautiful.

He thinks he told you so, in between holding on to his slipping consciousness and memorizing the contours of your face that he has longed to see for centuries—and that was when he’d seen the slightest crack in your façade. He watched your eyes soften for an infinitesimal moment, and he hoped, then, that you longed for him as he did you.

“You make me weak,” he remembers you whispering before pressing a lingering kiss to the mark on his forehead, your lips like ice against his feverish skin.

He doesn’t remember much of the dream beyond that.

✧

It’s only when he awakens beneath a sea of stars, free from the agony and voices that constantly plague him, that Xiao remembers that adepti do not dream.

✧

Only once did you call upon his name in the unnumbered years you spent in this world.

Lying in a pool of your own blood in some unnamed place in the depths of the Abyss, you choke out his name. During this moment, you don’t think of the grievances of this world, you don’t think of the cruelty of Celestia, you don’t even register the clawing shadows of the Abyss nearing your prone form. In this moment, the only thing on your mind is how much you want his visage to be the last thing you see.

“Xiao.”

A dark form looms over you, distinctly human in shape to your blurry eyes. Your heart blooms, beating weakly against your chest—yet still beating just for him.

You smile, blood on your lips. “You came.”

Finally, you let the thin string of consciousness slip through your fingers, and darkness overtakes your vision.

✧

When you open your eyes, it is to the sight of Dainsleif tending to your wounds.

“You were reckless,” he admonishes. “If I hadn’t found you—”

You don’t hear anything beyond that.

Found you.

Dainsleif found you.

Dainsleif found you.

You close your eyes and count one to ten, fighting back the sting of tears and the lump at the back of your throat. He promised to come should you ever call his name, and during that moment, teetering between life and death, you hoped he would. And yet…

How naive of you.

They are all the same, aren’t they?

You let your head fall back against the makeshift pillow and release a long, drawn-out sigh. (If Dainsleif notices the way your breath hitches, as if holding back a sob, he wisely does not mention it.)

For now, you let whatever remains of your hollow heart break. For now, you let yourself drown in your sorrow and longing.

✧

It’s only years later that you discover that no matter how much a person screams in the Abyss, their voice will never be heard beyond it.

✧

(“The Abyss is a chaotic place. There is nothing there but the remains of an old civilization cursed by the gods,” Dainsleif warns you, eyes watching you sharply, wearily. You’ve changed, and this journey you insist on embarking on might just be the catalyst that corrupts you to the point of no return.

You continue to stare ahead, the dark depths mirroring the nothingness in your eyes.

“I’ve fought gods and destroyed heavenly beings. If the Abyss is as chaotic as you say, then I will restore Order to it.”

Your tone held a finality to it, and so he inclines his head and follows you to the depths of the Abyss.

Only one of you would come out untouched.)

✧

To this day, Dainsleif regrets his decision.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

In the aftermath of Osial, the Traveler was hailed as the savior of Liyue. It felt like a hollow title, meaningless, just as their life has been in the past few months without you by their side.

Missing posters were put up, a smiling portait with a likeness to you, courtesy of the Chief Alchemist using the Traveler as a guide to sketch what you looked like.

Xiao finds one of these posters lying innocuously on the ground of the balcony of Wangshu Inn. His heart hammered within the confines of his chest when he caught sight of it, your smiling face looking back at him from the ground.

To this day, he keeps the poster—the only image he has of you—close to him, tucked in a hidden compartment by his sleeve, only taking it out when the burden of his karmic debt becomes too much.

He ignores how the artist couldn’t quite manage to capture the essence of your smile. It was too flat, a poor imitation of the real thing. Your smiles were always so bright, one side a little crooked, with just the barest crinkle in your eyes. But it was irrelevant, because the only thing that mattered to him was seeing you, even if it is only through a sketch.

(He remembers the first time he met the Traveler, eyes wide and heart racing as he appeared in the balcony and thought, you came back.

But then he had gotten a closer look, and his hope shattered when the Traveler turned their head and met his eyes. There was you, in the shade of their eyes and slant of their lips, but he knew you enough to know that the person in front of him was not you.

The Traveler introduced themself then, and Xiao understood.

This is your twin.

And it’s only when he finds himself staring, engraving the sight of your likeness to his mind, that he realizes that after hundreds of years, without his knowing, he had started to forget what you looked like.)

✧

When the Traveler comes knocking on Wangshu Inn, asking him to come watch the Lantern Rite, his answer is a firm no.

Xiao recalls one of the many conversation you had with him, a nostalgic look upon your face as you recalled how persistent your lost sibling could be. The most persistent person ever, you said.

He finds himself agreeing hundreds of years later as he’s greeted by the sight of the Traveler’s determined eyes.

“Won’t you come to the Lantern Rite?”

Once, Xiao was asked the same question by a person sharing the same face. Once, he agreed. Once, he found himself looking forward to something for the first time in his long life.

It has been nearly five hundred years, but within the recesses of his heart, he still longs to watch the sky light up with thousands of lanterns with you.

So instead of refusing, he says, “I once knew your sibling.”

The sight of a shocked look that morphs into one of desperation in the Traveler’s face—your face—nearly brings Xiao to rest his hand on your cheek. But the Traveler’s voice, so different from yours, brings him back to the present.

It takes him hours to recount the past. Words have never been his strongest suit, but he tries because the Traveler is your sibling, someone dear to you and, by extention, someone he should hold dear to himself as well.

They spend hours on that balcony talking about you, exchanging stories and memories. It’s truly an experience to have someone close to you describe how you were as a person, and Xiao finds himself clinging to the smallest snippets of information the Traveler hands him, no matter how innocuous it may be.

And when the sun begins to set and the remains of the old gods begin scouring the land, the Traveler asks him one more time.

“Will you come to the Lantern Rite? You can watch from afar, away from the crowds. My twin never liked crowded places either.”

This time, he says yes.

✧

Down by the harbor after the fireworks have set off, the Traveler releases their lantern with hope in their heart and a whisper of a wish at the end of their tongue.

I’ll find you someday.

✧

Perched on a nearby cliff overlooking the entirety of Liyue Harbor, Xiao watches the night fill with tiny spots of light and tries to recall the last time he gazed at such a sight.

In the deepest parts of his mind, he wishes you are beside him, watching the same sight as him.

He imagines the smile that would be dancing on your lips, your eyes filled with life as they reflected the light cast by the lanterns. He would hold your hand and you would rest your head on his shoulder, telling him of your travels and the enemies you faced. He would admonish you to be less reckless and remind you to utter his name if you need him, and you would laugh and promise him you’ll do as he says.

And when the lights start to fade and the sky darkens, you would suggest sleeping under the stars. Neither of you would end up sleeping anytime soon because you would be busy spending the rest of the night pointing out each star and constellation. He would listen, as he always did, and the two of you would spend the rest of the night basking in each other’s presence.

But then he blinks, and he’s alone once again.

Xiao looks up to the lantern-ridden sky with a faint smile, ignoring the ache in his heart and the coldness by his side.

✧

Hidden by the shadow of the trees, you watch the sky light up with hundreds of lanterns. Surrounded by Abyss mages, the weight of the object in your hands feels like lead. You wonder, in what feels like the hundredth time, what you are doing here.

Foolish.

Slowly, you relax your grip and let the unlit lantern fall to the ground.

This is the last time you will indulge in old sentiments.

You feign ignorance to the lone person sitting by the mountainside in the distance. You only came to Liyue to see your sibling. Nothing more.

“Gather the rest. We’re leaving,” you order as you turn your back to the sight of the city your sibling saved.

Your mages bow in deference and follow in silence as you walk away, leaving no trace of anyone ever being there.

In the morning, all that’s left is an abandoned lantern lying on the ground.

.

.

.

.

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(We never did get to see the lanterns together.)

word count: 9k

note: after the events at the chasm archon quest, xiao slowly begins to journey with the traveler in their quest to find you and search for answers on how you ended up as the leader of the abyss order. i won’t make a part 2 because we really don’t know much abt the abyss twin and what really happened during the cataclysm. i made the ending open-ended and vague, but i imagine that your and xiao’s story don’t have a happy ending.

[idontplaytrack]

Laugh it off

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, stress, reader is on her period, implied involuntary age-regression(triggered by stress and fatigue)

Reader’s clingy, but Jos loves it so she can pamper her

“No, baby. What— shh. It’s okay.” Jos picks up her phone, “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

You were crying, that— she knew. You didn’t know how or why, it just happened. And your first thought was to phone Jos.

“I don’t feel good.” You managed.

‘Feel good? You always say ‘well’ unless— shit.’

“Where are you?” She asks immediately, picking up on the tone change.

“Home.” You breathed out shakily, “At home.”

“I’m coming, okay? Do you need anything?”

“I don’t know.” You croaked.

“Alright, alright.” She shushed, “It’s okay, honey. I’ll be right there, I promise.”

Jos took her keys and wallet then rushed downstairs to the garage. Getting into her car, she immediately started it up and drove off towards her first destination: the store, to grab you some things. Staring at the date on the screen in front of her, she gets the confirmation she needed regarding her question as to what you may be needing.

She was in and out of the store in twenty minutes, arriving at your house in another fifteen. Jos let herself in, she had a copy of your house keys. She rushed upstairs to your room in an instant, but also noted that no one else was home. You were alone.

“y/n.” She says, pushing your door open- it was left open a crack. You jumped, startled, looking up at her with teary eyes. Jos fought the urge to sigh as she sat down beside you, placing the bag of items right by herself.

“What’s bothering you, my love?” She asks, a hand on your thigh.

You were breathing shakily, shaking your head. Then, following a forceful gulp, “I don’t wanna throw up.”

Jos held onto your hands, “Look at me.”

Finally, you did as she told you to, and met her gaze.

“Did you get your period?” She asked quietly, squeezing your hands.

You babbled, “I don’t like it. It hurts— I— I feel like I’m gonna throw up— I don’t want—”

“Can you sit up for me, baby? Please?” She coaxed, you sighed and sat upright, fully face to face with her.

“I know your pain meds were running a bit low, so I bought you some. I’m gonna get you some water, and you’re gonna take it, alright? You’ll feel better.” Jos took out the pack of Aleve, opened it and popped the blister pack so she could get a pill out for you. She spots your water bottle on the nightstand so she reached back to grab it, “Here you go.”

You hesitantly took both items from her, looking at her with a frown. Jos was digging into the bag once again, pulling out a little gift. “Take the medicine and this is yours.” Jos laughs, holding up a stuffed animal. A bribe, but in your current state of mind, it easily worked.

You swallowed the pale blue pill with some gulps of water. Jos smiled in relief and handed the stuffed orange heeler to you. “I want cuddles.” You pouted, leaning onto her.

Without a word, Jos wraps her arms around you. “I bought some snacks, you want something?” She reaches for the bag, pouring the contents onto your bed. You nodded eagerly, “Ooh. I want the Reese’s Pieces.”

“Here.” Jos hands the packet to you, “Be careful. Chew them properly, I don’t want you to choke.”

You laughed a little, but agreed, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Jos couldn’t help but smile again, you were exceptionally adorable in these ‘episodes’ where you’d regressed. Though it was usually triggered by a distressing situation. Or sometimes you were just overtired. Either way, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Jos knew how to take care of you, things weren’t that much different. You didn’t revert back to too early of an age.

“You wanna watch some TV?” She asks, kissing the side of your head.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, nuzzling closer. Jos holds you tighter.

“Bluey?” She asks knowingly, watching your face to see it light up. As expected, you smiled brightly and gave her an excited nod. Jos was already ready to click into the streaming service and press play. She just wanted to see you in a good mood.

————

After a little bit, you got a little bit restless in your current position and shifted. You sat on the plush and realised, it ‘talked’. You gasped, clearly not expecting it. “Sorry.” Jos gives you a sheepish grin, “You didn’t know there were voice recordings on that?”

“No, I didn’t.” You giggled, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Alright.” She hums, “You got it?” Jos was holding onto you so she was sure you were stable on your feet after sitting down for quite awhile.

“Legs are a little numb, but I realllly need to pee.” You nodded, chuckling over your words.

While you did your business, she got up to stretch and the show was put on pause for the meantime. “You want something to drink, y/n?”

“Okay?” You answered.

“I’ll be back up here in a couple minutes, baby.” You heard her say through the door, then the sound of footsteps departing from your room.

Washing your hands, you walked back to your bed and flopped onto it, stomach first and snuggling with the stuffed dog that your girlfriend’s just got you.

“You sleepy?” You hear her voice behind you.

“No.” You told her, voice muffled. “Maybe a little.”

“I made you some ginger tea to help with your stomach.” Jos began, “Have some, then let’s take a nap. How’s that sound? Good?”

Well, you just did as she told you to. You didn’t have the energy to protest. Besides, you knew it would help— it always does.

So right now, your head was laid on her chest, eyes fluttering shut but you were still fighting the urge to sleep. “Baby, don’t fight it. Just close your eyes and sleep.”

“I still wanna watch TV.” You pouted.

“Baby, we’ll continue after you get some rest. You’re really tired and that’s not helping how you feel, my love.”

Jos keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to lull you to sleep, and it was working perfectly. Much easier than usual, though you were more chatty during times like these, being all pouty about little things like not wanting to sleep because you didn’t want to stop watching TV.

“I’m scared I’ll throw up.” You mumbled, snuggling closer against her chest.

“It’ll be okay.” Jos replies softly, “I promise. I’ll be right here with you. I got you, I’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you.” You said back, “I did not have a nice day at work.”

“I’m sorry, baby. That sucks.”

“Everyone was so angry, the manager didn’t know how to help me when I asked for help about something I hadn’t done before. Then they left me alone, for like— one hour to take care of the place myself.” You began talking a lot, faster and faster and in a way that worried Jos. She could hear the panic in your voice talking about everything bad that happened that day.

“I just— I left work early because I felt myself going crazy. Like— like I was going to do this again, become like a child—”

Your bad day at work must’ve been what caused this episode to start. And the fact that you’d just started your period today, how emotional you must’ve been leading up to now must’ve made you feel so much worse.

“y/n.” She says your name, “All I want you to do right now is to take some deep breaths, focus on my heartbeat and close your eyes.”

Jos feels your balled up fist clenching at her shirt start loosening up. The soothing motions of her palm on your back was still ongoing.

“Close your eyes, breathe. Don’t think about anything. You’re okay now, all that’s over and done with.”

“What if they fire me?” You mumbled, voice unclear as the sleepiness began to take over your obviously exhausted body.

“Baby, there will always be another job. I don’t want you to be this stressed out, they hire multiple people so no one should have to holding down the fort alone. They should be there to answer your questions— if they didn’t know how to help, they should at least try, or get someone else to help. Listen, you’re doing your best. And even if that seems like bare minimum to you, your bare minimum is your coworkers maximum effort. They left you alone to run the place. That’s inconsiderate and scary.”

You only nodded since you were feeling the awful lump in your throat.

“You’ll be okay, this job is just one step in your career path. And…things have their way of working out. Even though it may seem difficult or impossible— nothing will stay challenging forever. Life’s full of surprises. Sometimes, we’ll have bad days. But all need to do is pick ourselves back up, do something we love that helps us feel better, you know? Watch some TV, laugh it off. Eat some candy, get some cuddles, sleep a little so we can recharge.”

Your hand opened up flat on her chest, now fully relaxed. Your breathing also calmed down, the sleepier you got.

“At the end of it all, honey— we’re just a couple of people existing on this planet trying to make it through day by day.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[flwoie]

LOVE IN DISGUISE — P. SH.

two : the haters be hating

contains : profanities, i dont know how dismantling a bomb works so spare me this is from watching spy movies

word count : 397

‘MISSION #1: DISMANTLE A BOMB (with Y/N ugh)’ was what Sunghoon wrote in his journal on his way to the city courthouse. Ever since he became a spy, he bought a journal and wrote everything he’d learnt. He hopes that he will have to buy a second one in the future, as his first and current one would be filled with missions he would do.

“What are you writing?” You ask as you drive the van, focusing on the road, thirty seconds away from your destination

“My first mission,” he replies, subtly stuttering.

“First mission is always the most important mission of a spy,” you state, parking the car behind the courthouse, “we’re here. You stay outside and I’ll get the equipment.” You got out of the car and opened the trunk, pulling out the items you two needed. You handed Sunghoon a pair of scissors and went to a wall of the courthouse.

You threw the grappling hook at the rain gutter and backed up to let Sunghoon climb first. He was quick to climb so it took you less than a minute to catch up. You two were standing on the roof, no sign of the bomb lying anywhere.

“The bomb could be tinier than we think, so we have to look carefully,” you informed, walking around. Sunghoon walks over to the chimney and pulls out a pipe bomb, showing it to you. “Or it could be a pipe bomb,” you deadpan.

“We have thirty seconds left until this thing blows up—twenty-nine now,” he mentions, looking at the timer ticking. He pulls out a pair of scissors and busts open the back of the bomb, revealing many colourful wires. “Um,” he says as he scratches his head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Beomgyu just taught you this!”

“He did! There was only red and black on the test. This shit has the whole rainbow!”

The bomb beeped faster and faster. You two only had twenty-four seconds left. “It’s the wire connected to the detonator, it’s on the right,” you say. Sunghoon looks at you with confusion. “The blue one! Cut the blue one, you idiot!” You yell. He cuts the blue wire and the timer turns off. You both sigh in relief and eventually glare at Sunghoon with threatening eyes. “I’ll let Gyu know to never pair us together for a mission.”

“Hater.”

mlist — prev ; next

🗯️ hi guys i think i need to start queuing chapters

Secrets are meant to be kept. Sunghoon never keeps secrets though, well except one—his friends being members of a super secret spy team. He finds out on the night he gets kidnapped and is rescued by them. That night, his friend offers him to be a part of the team to stop an organization, SPY-DER LILLIES, from destroying their campus and agency, I.R.I.S (International Resource for Intellectual Spies). And like the goofy goober he is, he joins for a jetpack and to impress his longtime friend and crush, the black cat agent, in order to win her heart before the spiders come crawling up his back. 

spy! sunghoon x spy! f! reader

taglist is open ; send an ask or comment under main mlist

[ 🏷️ ] @hanniluvi @odxrilove @astrae4 @dimplewonie @asteriaskingdom @sakanelli-afc @en-kays @kaykay11sworld @haknom @isoobie @enhaz1

[deusa-astaroth666]

I would like to thank everyone for the messages of support and asks🥺❤️, I've already started the drawings and they will be ready by tomorrow, I'm doing them with great care and it really helped me calm down a lot and I even managed to eat a little. I also have three news, one good and two bad.

The good news is that one of my friends got in touch and is well and safe so far, the water has not reached her house.

Now for the bad, my friend and her family are without drinking water to bathe and the water in the fridge to drink is also running out, I hope they deliver supplies to her soon. The other bad news is that my other friend hasn't gotten in touch yet and to make matters worse, another water dam burst, in other words... the catastrophe has just gotten worse and the chances of the current reaching her house have increased, which only increases my concern. I really hope she is safe, the city of Porto Alegre is devastated by the waters, no one leaves or enters except the volunteers with helicopters and boats, an entire city is under water, there are 78 people dead so far and more than 105 are missing, every hour this number grows, 20 thousand have been rescued and 115 thousand are homeless.

The last time I saw something like this was in the tragedy of Brumadinho in Minas Gerais, please do something about it to make it known to the outside media, Brazil needs help, the State of Rio Grande Do Sul is sinking and the tendency is to get worse, Anything to help our country is welcome, donations, repercussions and prayers, here below there will be some videos of the current situation in the State, they are strong images so watch them if you are psychologically prepared😥

I will translate for you

Flood destroys city of Roca Sales in Rio Grande do Sul

Unfortunately I can only put a single video here, but on Tik Tok and YouTube there are several of them, if you are interested in donating, the government is creating pix keys and the victims themselves too, I will send some Tik Tok accounts that are fighting to help animals and people who were victims of this tragedy. Every 1 Real (Brazilian currency) is worth 0.20 of the North American dollar.

Government releases Pix key for donations

The number for donations is: 92.958.800/0001-38. When making the transfer, confirm that the destination bank is "Banrisul (Banco do Estado do Rio Grande do Sul)".

https://www.tiktok.com/@saramicaela14?_t=8m74sIjUsbO&_r=1

This child asks for help with beds and toys, the wreckage you can see behind is what's left of his house.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMtDh8cf/

Here you can see animal rescue

If you want to make other donations for specific things like animal feed and food, just Google the banks that are receiving them, I think it will be safer that way.

I hope that everyone is well and that none of you have to go through something like this, I will continue to update you about it, as it is the only way I could help the media see us, since as I mentioned before the event has passed. unnoticed since it occurred on the same day as Queen Madonna's concert.

Thank you for reading this far, have a good night❤️❤️

[nekodere07]

I broke the code Pt. 1

This was I've been up to during August, writing 2 fics for Fic Fight s3 and this was one of them :D

Part 1 | Part 2

AO3 link to the fic!

Kill itttttttt

BLOOD

Kill it with fire!!

Joel boosts himself forward with the toes of his feet planted firmly onto the ground, propelling himself towards the running boar three times his size before delivering the killing blow. He skids into a stop, catching his breath whilst resting his hands on his quivering knees.

“This should be enough for our dinner tonight.” Joel mumbles approvingly.

Eyooooo

Wooooooooo

!! !! !! !!

That looks delicious!!!!!1!!!11

😋😋😋

“How on earth did you do that face thing?” Joel gapes in confusion. “It's physically impossible to project an image through vocal cords.”

what do you mean? you just press 😋

my first time watching you hunt

Welcome!!

just say 😋😋😋

o/

o/

o/

😋😋😋

can you share a bit for us??

happy to be here!!!!!!!!1!1!!1!1111

blood

my mouth is watering now i wanna eat some meat

What did I miss?

i have chicken nuggies

Can I have some? 👉👈

sure!!

😆😆😆😆😆

guys we just blown his mind

Look who's short circuiting

L

L

cant imagine what that feels like

More nonsensical comments are echoing inside his mind, making him less interested the worse it gets. This is why he hates listening to them at times.

“You know what? I don't even wanna know.” Joel rolls his eyes as he grabs the boar's leg and drags it along the soil without issue.

The sky gradually darkens, but his vision is still as vivid as ever, traversing through the trees effortlessly apart from a few bumps that keep getting the dragged corpse stuck. Noticing the dim light from afar, he picks up his pace and arrives at his destination.

“Yo, Grian! Look what I found.” Joel calls with a wave of his free hand.

The blonde in question turns around, jumping in surprise whilst caressing his chest not long after.

“How in the thickest Sunday gravy did you kill one that big?” Grian furrows his brows as he approaches.

say what?

We made ridiculous comments in our lifetime but that one takes the cake

Ikr

I couldnt agree more

give grian the trophy he deserves

“If it wasn't clear yet, I'm very strong and handsome and humble.” Joel smirks and states the obvious. “You're welcome.”

“Uh, huh.” Grian deadpans, kneeling down beside the boar as he pulls out a knife and begins to peel off the skin with swift movements.

Joel leaves his friend's side to beeline towards the bonfire, picking up a few branches beside it before dumping them into the fire, reigniting it once more. Sitting on one of the chopped logs laying on the dry soil, he cracks his joints and sighs in relief. He pulls out his sword from his waist before digging his hand into his bag from amongst their stuff for a cloth.

“Where is everybody, anyway?” Joel questions absentmindedly. “I know most of us don't have issues seeing in the dark, but dangerous creatures do lurk this early into the night. It doesn't hurt to stay vigilant.”

“Er… If I remember correctly, Impulse visited a nearby cave to mine a few resources.” Grian's voice replies casually. “Etho, on the other hand, is currently resting in the wagon. In which, you should be doing as well instead of hunting down a boar three times your size.”

Joel groans and rolls his eyes, “Why are you gonna be on my case again?” He yells as he slams the stained cloth to the side. “I already told you that I'm fine.” He grits his teeth.

oooh

Someone's in denial

lolol

“Dude, you've been awake for three days straight.” Grian points out. “Don't think I didn't notice how you've been slipping off to go somewhere in the middle of the night.”

Joel jolts violently at the last comment, clenching on the hilt of his sword as hard as possible.

How did he—

“I don't know what you're talking about, Grian. I slept like a log.” Joel comments nonchalantly. “You were probably dreaming or something. I think you're the one who needs that rest.”

He can hear Grian dragging a sigh from behind, ignoring it as he grabs his whetstone with a cold hand.

“Just… rest, alright?” Grian advises with an even voice, but the way he's pausing makes him sound more like he's pleading. “It may not look like it, but we care about you.”

“I will.” Joel lies.

AO3 link to the fic!

Part 1 | Part 2

[wakabahan]

what if you got read something of mine? what if that happened to you? i always use songs for chapter titles, the link is to the song.

Threshold

Shasta and Mamoru had decided on Boogie Woogie Steakhouse for dinner while her sisters all scattered to their own destinations. The night was perfect, warm but not overbearing. The mother and son decided to walk back to their hotel. That, and Shasta needed the fresh air, the aloha blonde she had ordered had gone to her head just a little more than she liked and the bbq chicken, while delicious, was heavy.

They chatted together happily, Mamoru swinging Shasta’s hand as they moseyed down the street. Her youngest was currently over the moon with his meal and couldn’t wait for when they flew back home and he could tell his older siblings all about it along with everything he had yet to experience. Mamoru was feeling particularly spoiled to be spending a holiday on his own with Shasta. At first he was put out that he wasn’t included in his older siblings’ trip, stating he was too young. Now it was the last thing the kid could possibly care about.

The quiet of the area was shattered by a door bursting open. Shasta immediately stopped and yanked Mamoru behind her on instinct to guard him. The door bashed against the wall, sprung on its hinges it couldn’t even swing back.

Shasta watched as a young man wearing a white polo over blue jeans and loafers in a wheelchair was hurried out of the room like a bat out of hell. Pushing the man was a face she remembered from photos, or rather, she remembered his hair and red suit.

“...Ichiban…Kasuga?” Not entirely sure she remembered the name right.

He didn’t notice her and continued to fly down the street, fleeing something.

If she were anyone else, she’d leave it alone. But no one launched themselves out of a room like that unless there was trouble. She waited a beat, not seeing anyone following after Ichiban and his companion. From across the street she could see the faint light of a knocked over lamp.

“Hold my hand tight. We’re going to cross the street.” Shasta instructed.

Mamoru did as he was told. Together they quickly jay walked the quiet street.

Hearing no sounds of alarm from the ground floor hotel room, Shasta parked her son between the door jamb and the broken window. She took Mamoru gently by the shoulders.

“Stay right here, okay? Do not go inside. I’ll be just a second.”

Mamoru looked up at her with big, curious eyes. He nodded eagerly, knowing his mother's tone when she was absolutely serious.

Shasta couldn't hear anything but exhausted breathing. The room was trashed as she crossed the threshold; broken chairs, an end table with a snapped leg slumped with a lamp hanging off it by its cord. It smelled faintly of sweat underneath the natural perfume of the city.

Who the hell are these guys? Stepping passed two men, walking on the outsides of her feet, soundless in her sandals.

“What the hell happened in here?” She whispered.

She gave each man a cursory glance. Shasta was looking for someone who seemed like the one in charge.

Not him, not with those sandals. Several of them wore aloha shirts and sunglasses despite the sun being long set. Her foot tapped someone else's.

Looking down it was a sizable pair of feet, wearing double monk strap loafers. She followed the length of his long legs. Tall, broad shouldered and spread eagle on the floor. He wore a nice pinstripe suit. Of all the other men sprawled on their asses, it was clear he was the one in charge.

Shasta crept down onto her hands and knees beside him. He was so still Shasta couldn't be sure if he was even alive. She reached under the neck of his sweater, two warm fingers pressing into the side of his throat.

He's not dead, good pulse but his skin is cool, weird with this weather.

Slowly, she slipped a hand into the breast pocket of his suit, pulling out a plain black wallet and she flipped it open.

Up close she smelled good soap, masculine and woody; but little else. Judging from his face and hair; she figured he didn't spend too much time on himself other than keeping his facial hair groomed.

“Yutaka Yamai…with a nicely done fake ID.” She mumbled, pausing for a second. “That's probably the best I've seen.”

She made a note that his photo was just as ugly and unflattering as any officially issued license, including hers. Quickly she put it back, he still hadn't stirred.

-

Yamai was conscious. He was just waiting. The smell of high end perfume as the person kicked his foot and bent down told him it was a woman. He sensed her kneel down, keeping still as her fingers, the tips soft, pressed into his neck.

Yamai let her reach into his breast pocket. With the intoxicating perfume; the sound of her voice made it hard to picture what she looked like, low and soft, but raspy as she mused over his ID. She leaned over him, the ends of her hair brushed over his cheek, tickling.

-

“Hey, Scarecrow.” She called softly, tapping his gaunt cheek with the back of two fingers.

He then stirred. Despite his size he was quick, snatching her by the wrist, just tight enough where she couldn't worm away. Lurching up off his back he came nose to nose with her, Shasta felt her nose briefly tickle. Meeting his eyes directly, they looked a little worn, deep set with dark shadows under them. Yamai and sleep were estranged if she had to guess.

“You know Kasuga?” His voice was very deep and round, a little reedy; it rumbled in Shasta’s ears.

It's almost eighty degrees, is he sick? Spying a peacoat cast aside beside them that paired with his suit overtop a ribbed turtleneck. The thought of all that fabric made her itch. Shasta mentally picked him apart. His demeanor, neck length black hair he let hang in his face, his dogged stare. He could be bad news.

“I know you can speak, little sister. Heard you when you came in.”

Shasta swallowed, keeping her nerves and temper in check.

“He's a friend of my cousin’s. I saw him leaving just now like there was fire on his heels.”

She watched his tongue run along the inside of his mouth in front of his bottom teeth, deciding if she was telling the truth. All she could do is be calm and wait.

Yamai gazed at her, her jet black eyes in the low lamp light glittered. She was pretty with fine lines at the corners of her eyes, beauty marks scattered on her face. Thick, well-groomed brows bent into a bit of a scowl. She didn't take her eyes off him and she didn't cower away from him.

“Do I know you?” He asked absently. Something about her face struck him as familiar.

Sizing her up; petite but buxom, her chest raised calmly with each breath. Wearing a dusty pink short sleeved turtle neck tucked into high waisted light wash jeans. She had curvy hips that were brought to attention by the thin white belt at her slimmer waist. Casual but she reeked of class. Money.

But she looked familiar, something about her was like a memory.

Yamai wondered how a woman like her would know a yakuza, and one who inadvertently spearheaded the ending of the two largest clans in Japan.

“We’ve never met.” She replied curtly. Her mouth; full and rosy blush colored, naturally set into a frown. Her head tilted down and in slightly, trying to ease her wrist from his long fingers without seeming desperate.

Yamai caught a glint by her right ear. The tips of her ears stuck out from her silky faux blonde bob. He let go of her wrist and nonchalantly moved her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Brassy gold hoops that hugged the lobe, with a connecting ring that held a pear cut yellow diamond. It caught the light and sparkled, almost dripped from her lobe.

“Your fuzzball friend cost me a lot of money. How much do these go for?” He asked, flicking the jewel with the pad of his forefinger.

Yamai fixed his gaze back to center away from her ear, fingers still lazily teasing her. She licked her lips before she spoke feeling a bit like a prize the way he leered at her like a crow to something shiny. Shasta couldn't help but flush as he continued to play with her ear.

“...As a pair they're 45k, so half that. I imagine not a single one of your lackeys has ever made you that much…except maybe that kid with the glasses by the door, he's cute.” She replied calmly, tone certifiably bitchy.

“Mama?” Mamoru interrupted them.

“I told you to stay outside, honey.” She called back.

Yamai watched her expression flit to panic for just a split second, but she never took her eyes away from Yamai.

He could feel her body wind up. Every muscle torqued and ready to fight if he decided to divert his attention to her kid. Just the two of them, she’d been letting him lead. Now she was going to strike if need be.

“But Mama, you’ve been inside for–”

“Mamoru!” Her voice with its rasp was harsh, putting her son in his place.

She's a fighter.

Saying nothing, Yamai popped the latch of her earring with his first finger and slowly slipped it through the soft tissue of her earlobe and into his hand. He watched her eyes cast down, lashes obscuring her eyes, watching him rolling the stone in his palm with his thumb. Her face gave nothing away as she watched his hand.

Guess she wouldn't care, they're probably insured.

“Go.” Ticking his head back towards the open door.

“What, you don't want the other?” She asked, eyes cutting back up to him. He scoffed, he liked her prissy attitude.

“I’ll come find you if I change my mind.” He snarked back.

Shasta gave him one last long look before pushing off her knees and onto her feet. Her face rocked dangerously close to his. Yamai felt her breath breeze past his cheek and another waft of her perfume hit his nose. It wrapped around him for a moment and then was gone. He swallowed the weird unidentifiable twinge of emotion.

Without another word she moved past his men, bonking the one she had called cute in the head as she went.

-

Yamai got to his feet, and cleared the room to the door, also giving Tomizawa a knock in the head. Tomizawa balled himself up and held his head tight, groaning loudly.

Yamai skulked out of the room and watched Shasta walk quickly down the street, holding her son's hand while she texted someone with the other. The boy had a mop of curly black hair. He looked up to his mother, talking to her, still within ear shot.

“Mama, who were those guys? Why did they leave the door open? That's not safe.”

She looked from her phone to him and squeezed his hand, giving him a smile. “Those guys were up to mischief.” A bit of humor in her voice.

“So they’re bad?”

Yamai staring after her so hard Shasta turned, eyes meeting at a distance. The smile she gave the kid was still in place for a split second that hammered right through Yamai. Again a memory he didn't have that faded along with her smile.

She blinked and turned back to Mamoru.

“No, baby. Not everyone who does a bad thing is bad.”

The boy thought about it before nodding. “Okay. So where is Wakaba’s friend?”

Yamai just barely heard the ping of her phone. “That…is what I am about to find out…” Trailing off as she sent another text.

Walking around the corner out of sight, Yamai couldn't hear the rest. She had a cold snobby air about her and a bitchy expression. But she was classy. To Yamai she was reminiscent. The diamond earring was warmed in his hand, rolling it between his fingers, a shiver ripped viciously down his spine.

-

Walking down the avenue with Mamoru, she rolled through her contacts. Down to the J’s she called out.

-

In Chicago a cell phone angrily buzzed on a desk. Jay Halstead was fried. It was going on two in the morning. His fair, freckled skin had a chill from being tired. He had been zoning out watching snow flurries dance in the windows. He grimaced at his phone, wondering who could possibly be calling him.

Jay had drawn the short straw and was stuck drawing up the DD5s on their latest case. The cold quiet made him all the more tired and the coffee he brewed tasted like shit. If he had thought about it, he'd have brought better from home. But he was so confident that he'd get to go home at a reasonable hour.

He scratched his jaw, feeling the day growing in as he turned over his phone and saw Shasta’s name flash on the face.

“C’mon.” He complained, answering. “Hawaii sucks that bad you have to call me?”

Shasta wrinkled her nose. “You answered so you're worse off than I am, it seems. Can you ping a phone for me, please?”

“You’ve been in Hawaii for like, what, two seconds? How are you already working?”

The dry humor of the young detective made her roll her eyes, she could picture his snarky expression, those big blue eyes bright.

“I’m not trying to, but of course, I stepped into something.” She rattled off the number to Jay.

“Uh-huh!” He chirped sarcastically, quickly waking up his computer, and pulling up the proper software. “I got an…Ichiban Kah-soo-gah..?”

“Not quite, but you tried. Does it show where he is?” Shasta asked.

“Guy pinged a cell tower heading west on Aloha St.”

“Thank you, Jay.” Ready to end the call.

No way he was going to let her off the phone without giving her a hard time.

“Shas, you gotta bring me back something cool, or I’ll be totally put out. I- I might even die if I don't get cool swag–” Feigning hard his impending doom.

“Goodbye, Jay–” Promptly she hung up on him.

Shasta sighed, slipping her phone into her back pocket. Mamoru looked up at his mother and smiled, a coy smile. He was waiting for his mother to explain properly.

Shasta let go of his hand and put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him to her.

“It's probably nothing, baby.”

Despite her words; Shasta had a feeling that there was a lot more than Ichiban pissing off a small group of small-time shitkickers.

-

Dug out of a box he carelessly tossed CDs and DVDs that sat in the corner or his room. It wasn't the original. That one was vinyl and was still in his childhood bedroom.

That is if his older sister didn't shitcan everything he had left behind when he left home.

It was vivid in his mind. Yamai could see himself, that gangly, homely preteen. He remembered that his arms and legs had ached like hell all that summer from a growth spurt. He was passing a little record shop and in the window an album cover had caught his attention.

The record was a bait and switch. It had the clear look of an indie pop album; a young girl, maybe a few years older than he was, with a smile that rotted the teeth. It was so sweet, too sweet. The girl had mostly straight teeth, canines top and bottom a little crooked. The top of her gums visible as she beamed. She was standing in a sunlit field, shielding her eyes from the sun, long black hair swept up in a heavy breeze looking directly at you. Her ears stuck out, adding to her darling charm. She wore a sleeveless denim dress with a floral sailor collar.

The music was pure unbridled anger. The heavy chug of guitars, deep moody bass, drums that if you pressed your headphones hard enough to your head it threw your heartbeat off. The woman was a singer with a smoky siren allure but could startle with gut wrenching growls. It was everything a bratty teenage boy could want.

But it was the girl on the sleeve who pulled Yamai in. He jumped another kid to steal his allowance to buy that record. He had beat the kid bloody to get what he wanted. He had to have it. That girl with her goofy ears and smile wooed him for years until he was an adult.

Yamai found the CD and sat on the edge of his bed, staring hard at the disc cover. His teenage muse was still as beautiful as ever. When CDs came out the booklet had more pictures that didn't make the final cut. He hadn’t really looked at the booklet, he had merely seen the album in a second hand shop here in Honolulu and picked it up without thinking about it. He had been moved purely by nostalgia. A time where life wasn’t frigid and didn’t suck shit.

Thumbing through it there was no doubt about it. Her body was a little different, hips and breasts fuller from age and childbirth. Her jaw was a little softer, crows feet from scowling. But there was no mistaking the placement of the moles on her face. The flare of her ears that made them peek through her hair. One of the pages the girl wasn’t smiling, just her face at rest. That natural downturn of her mouth at the corners.

The woman in the hotel room was this same girl.

[animebw]

Well, Link Click season 1 was quite fun!

I don't have too much to say about it, other than this was a solid, satisfying time-bending thriller that does a great job of keeping you on your toes. I think my favorite aspect is how Cheng Xiaoshi jumping into various people's pasts is used to keep the show's tone constantly shifting. Any given episode could be a crime thriller, a romantic drama, a sports anime, a workplace standoff or a disaster movie depending on what each client's life was like. I hope that keeps up in the second season even now that the main plot's been thrust into the spotlight.

Speaking of, something I'm uncertain how to feel about is this show's treatment of time. At first it seems like it operates on quantum universe rules- change the past and you change the future, so avoid making any big moves that could alter the timestream. But then it seems more like the past has already happened and every change Cheng makes has already been accounted for in the current timeline, "meet your destiny on the road you take to avoid it" style. Except then the cliffhanger that ends the season suggests that someone has actively been forcing the timeline to obey those rules, so who knows how it's actually supposed to work in its natural state. And whatever the answer ends up being will have huge consequences for Link Click's ultimate thesis on time travel.

Honestly? I hope by the end, time can be changed. The way everyone's fates are already sealed feels too arbitrary and cruel, like the story is forcing everyone into their pre-destined fates no matter how they struggle against them. And considering the reveal that the main villain has been manipulating the past to play out as it happened with no changes, that might not be an accident. Lu Guang's insistence that changing the past can only lead to disaster might not actually be correct! It might just be this one asshole playing god and refusing to give people a fair chance to escape an unfair situation. I'm hoping season 2 really digs into that tension and interrogates the idea of fate being used an excuse to let people die and suffer when you have the power to save them. If it does, this could very easily go from a good show to a great show.

But that's for later. For now, season 1 gets a score of 6.5/10, and I'll probably watch season 2 of this and Golden Kamuy at the same time to get through them faster. Until next time!

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ZHONGLI X FEM READER

Even after the Rite of Parting, the people of Liyue have found themselves unable to come to terms with the death of Rex Lapis. Unwilling to abandon his city, Zhongli has one final duty to perform - to say his goodbyes to those who had loved him so dearly. Torn between dedication to Liyue and the burden of thousands of years of existence, Zhongli needs someone to teach him how to become human and you, as a member of the Qixing and Liyue's foremost cultural expert, might be just the one for the job.

wc — 2.8k

tags — fluff, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with lore, reader is not traveler, devotion to a god turned love for a man, chinese folklore, when you take shots at mondstadt but now your city is also godless oops

glossary | chapter 1 of This Is How We Mourn The Living

If the city was riotous in celebration, you could not hear it.

Ningguang had arranged for her personal carriage to ferry you to your destination, and it had been soundproofed by the finest craftsmen. Though it’s purpose was more to protect state secrets than to block out the noises of people weeping in the streets, it served just as well to keep you mired in your thoughts as the carriage made it’s bumpy way across the cobblestone streets. 

The aftermath of Osial’s attack had left the Qixing scrambling to hold the city together. The Fatui needed to be dealt with, the transition of power from Rex Lapis to the Qixing was in dire need of immediate attention, and most of all, the people of Liyue were, for the first time in their lives, lost. 

They had never been alone from the time Rex Lapis had led them south to the ocean. Liyue had always had their god to watch over them, but now they found themselves faltering at a test no one had predicted.

The city would either burn to ashes or find itself resurrected, stronger than ever. 

At the moment, no one could tell. In a desperate attempt at preserving a shattered and shell-shocked Liyue against the enemies swarming for a chance to bring down the once invulnerable city, every capable body was pressed into service. 

When Hu Tao opened the door for you, she nearly fainted in shock. As Lady Ningguang’s emissary, you came dressed in her colors - white and gold, which also happened to be the colors of funerals and weddings. For all intents and purposes, it looked like you had come to either kill or marry one of the inhabitants of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, and all bets were on the bachelor who was currently the subject of all the burning rumors in Liyue. 

“Zhongli,” she stammered. “What did you do?” 

Towering behind her, the man blinks slowly, completely unperturbed by the strange sight. It’s a small mercy that Wangsheng Funeral Parlor rarely has loiterers, or this could blow up into yet another scandalous whisper to follow his name. 

“Nothing that I can recall,” he muses. “I don’t suppose the young lady is here for you? Perhaps this is one of your pranks?” 

She scoffs, offended. “Even I wouldn’t go that far-“

All it takes is a singular, arched eyebrow from him, and she relents. “Okay, maybe I would, but this-“ she waves a hand in your direction. “Is not my doing! I know you can be kind of a ditz, but I can’t believe you got yourself married without realizing it!” 

You smile demurely. “Don’t worry, Miss Hu Tao. It’s nothing so concerning. I’m just here on behalf of the Tianquan. Zhongli-xiansheng, would you do me the honor of coming to tea? I would like to discuss why the Qixing have called for your services.” 

Though polite, both parties involved are aware that this is not an invitation. You’ve heard Hu Tao is a notorious prankster, and a bit of a plague on the elders of Liyue. Her particular form of advertisement has not endeared her to many, but somehow, she still finds joy even in the worst of tragedies.

It’s a testament to the reputation of the Qixing that for her to lose ever present mirth. Worry lines her features for her dearest friend, but Zhongli soothes her worries. “Who am I to deny the kindness of the Liyue Qixing? Hu Tao, I’ll be back soon.” 

It’s a short walk to Heyu Tea House. Zhongli shucks off his coat, and drapes it over you, careful never to actually graze your exposed skin in the process. Under your curious gaze, he explains. “You might attract strange looks walking through the city in your garb, though I understand why you came dressed in Ningguang’s colors.” 

Only the lady herself could get away with such a social faux pas. White and gold were Ningguang’s colors before they were for weddings or funerals, but the same couldn’t hold true for you, one of the newer additions to the Liyue’s elite. You would have to work your way up to that kind of status. 

The tea house is a favorite of the nobles of Liyue for it’s delicate architecture and beautiful performances, though currently, it’s been emptied out for your meeting. Even the waitresses have been replaced by your people. No effort is spared when it comes to wooing a god. The Qixing, of all people, could never be accused of holding out on a guest. 

A seat on the second floor has been designated for you, overlooking the streets below. Heyu has always felt comfortable to you. It was where you first met Ningguang. Eventually, it became the place that you began to associate with the Qixing, and your induction into their ranks. 

Every member of the Qixing has a preferred place for negotiations, as such, this is yours. Though few of you are superstitious by nature, familiarity is always a comfort. Today, that normalcy is ripped away from you. Funeral white has joined the usual red and gold of the decorations.

The entire city is in mourning for the man sitting across from you and grateful to be alive at the same time. 

It’s strange, the fine line between love and misery. Without the enchanted walls of the carriage, the people are still loud enough to be heard even off ground level. If you touch the tables, your hands shake slightly with the force of the vibrations moving throughout the city.

Fireworks explode overhead. The open air of the terrace makes them your only source of light besides golden lanterns glowing dimly. As the people weep, they rejoice in equal measure. Ningguang’s name and the mysterious traveler’s are carried on whispers throughout the city. The adepti, too, are rumored to have returned. It’s a miracle, and a tragedy. 

The city has survived, but it’s god has not. 

Or at least not that they know of. 

Everything on the menu has been prepared for Zhongli, but he barely touches the Calla Lily Seafood Soup and Crystal Shrimp, preferring to nurse his oolong tea and Jade Parcels. You hadn’t expected the former Geo Archon to be a picky eater, much less to dislike seafood. It’s the staple of the city he held dominion over, after all, but then again few personal details were known about the god. 

Ningguang, you think, would ease into the conversation, starting with formalities and pleasantries she didn’t really mean before getting to the point. You are not Ningguang. You are trying to be, but you don’t think masquerading as a different person would get you very far with him. 

“Zhongli-xiansheng, what do you plan to do now that you no longer go by Rex Lapis? Will you sit and watch as your people live in fear, attempting a gradual return to normalcy?” 

As expected, the God of Contracts is not offended by your inability to skirt around the matter, though he does raise an eyebrow at the way you phrase it. He waits before he speaks, letting the silence stretch on. Your words marinate between the two of you. There is little noise besides the clink of his ceramic spoon. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’s purposely trying to make you uncomfortable, then you cast the thought aside. You don’t really want to know. 

“You want to know if I’m a god that can abandon his people?” 

You refuse to lower your eyes at the direct interpretation of your words. You meant what you had said, even if you definitely hadn’t meant it to come across as harshly as he had phrased it. Like everyone else in Liyue, you still loved your archon.

And you believed that he had not turned his back on you. 

You have never been meek, but you have also never been in the presence of a god, much less one whose presence has loomed over you for your entire life. It’s only with Ganyu’s training in etiquette that you refrain from picking at the golden threads embroidered into the table cloth under his similarly golden-eyed scrutiny. Everything in Liyue is Zhongli’s.

“I don’t think you are.”

“No,” he sighs. “You are right. I am not. You have a matter you need my assistance with, or else you would not have come to me. Speak directly.” 

“The people are grieving. Their city is shattered and their god is lost to them. They are afraid. The Rite of Parting is not enough.” The tortured look on your face is not an act. 

By the time the Qixing had taken you in, you had already dedicated your heart to this city. You would sacrifice anything for it, and once, you would have sacrificed anything for the god who presided over it. Now you wonder if there is anything to offer him at all. “I want my people to live in peace. Zhongli-xiansheng,” you slide a pen and paper across the table. “Please make a contract with me.” 

The Qixing were stretched thin enough as it was already. The Tianquan had resorted to running Liyue’s base of operations out of the Yuehai Pavilion, now that the Jade Chamber had fallen. The Yuheng barely slept, carrying out her work at all hours of the night. Even Ganyu, your ever competent secretary, had found extra work to do. The Kaiyang, leader of Liyue’s military forces, had fallen during the night, though no one knew how. Some suspected a fatui assassination plot, though you were leery. Among the Qixing, it was common knowledge that he had been ill for some time. 

Through it all, Liyue found itself trapped in a haze of grief and mourning, as if the malaise of Wuwang Hill had somehow spread to the rest of the golden city. Their pain was amplified by crushed hopes, the strength of a people who, holding out against all odds, could deny it no longer.

Even those who had witnessed the passing of the great dragon at the Rite of Ascension had believed that he would somehow make a triumphant return. After all, why else would the Qixing make such a suspicious attempt to hide the body? 

But perhaps the greatest claim against the possibility that he was really gone was that this was Rex Lapis, their infallible god. His people loved him too much to consider the possibility that he was capable of succumbing to such mortal things as death. They had believed in him until they could no longer. 

You had been inducted into the Qixing when your battle prowess had garnered you Ningguang’s attention. Promotions had come steadily due to your competency, until you had risen so high as to become Lady Ningguang’s secretary. Then, under her, you had become recognized as the foremost expert on the history and culture of Liyue. 

You were a nightmare to face on the battlefield and a well of wisdom in the conference room, but though your talents were many, they did not extend to this, no matter how much you cared for your people. Conveniently, funeral parlor consultants were adept at handling grief. 

It was an easy decision. 

The Qixing would employ Zhongli as an envoy to the people, guiding them through the grief left behind by the death of a god. In return, you would teach him what it meant to be mortal. 

“The people are too reliant on their god,” he says, shaking his head at your noise of protest, “but I would never wish harm on Liyue. It seems my work is still not finished. I must guide them into a new era, one in which I am no longer needed.” 

“And then?” 

“I will finally be able to retire, I suppose. Though I’m not sure when that will be.” 

You’re not sure how gods retire. What Zhongli likely means is something more similar to death than human ideas of retirement. Centuries of existence have taken their toll on him, leaving him weary to the bone. More than anything, he wants rest, but he cannot when Liyue has need of him.

The end of the era of gods had shattered the city that had walked with gods. It was resistant to the possibility of a lonely journey. After all, it was the city that Rex Lapis had cultivated from nothing with his own hands, and perhaps spoiled, in his desire to provide for his people all that they needed. 

He had admitted it to you himself, with a melancholic smile on his face. “The human life is so short compared to that of the adepti. I would like to see my people comfortable in the little time we have together.” 

Even after renouncing his title as the Sovereign God of Liyue, he couldn’t help himself from looking after his people. Rex Lapis had ruled over Liyue for 6,000 years. He had seen more than you could imagine, in an immortal life that could snuff yours out in an instant. He was the oldest of the Seven who had grown tired of his long reign, and had relinquished his city to the Qixing, only to find himself called back into service. 

Though he was basically living history, never in his life could he recall a tradition like this. After all, there was no recorded instance of a god descending to live among his people. It was an age of new beginnings, one that no one had expected. 

New beginnings made people hungry. You could see it in the city, the restlessness that burned under their skin. Liyue had been invincible for so long, the people no longer knew what it was like to be weak. When Rex Lapis had founded the city, the people had been little more than dust, hastily cobbled together huts and prayers to a doting god. And now they had returned to that state, unsure of when disaster might strike. They were afraid, as you had never wanted your city to feel. 

That was precisely what had driven Rex Lapis to take the form of Zhongli, and what had brought you to his doorstep as an ambassador from Tianquan Ningguang. An olive branch, of sorts, after the long centuries of strained relations between the adepti and the Qixing. A partnership for the common cause they both served, the good of Liyue. You didn’t mind - after all, between your sovereign and your god, you were more than willing to serve as they saw fit. 

Even if your god insisted he was nothing more than a funeral parlor consultant now. 

“Zhongli-xiansheng,” you started.

“You can call me Zhongli. We will be seeing each other often, and it’s unnecessary.” 

You stumble, unused to his name in your mouth without honorifics, even if back then, you had called him Rex Lapis. “Zhongli, then. I will report your acquiescence back to the Qixing. If you are amenable to it, I will meet you at the funeral parlor to discuss our first assignment further.” 

Normally, you would bring the completed contract to Yanfei to look over, but as the other party was the god of contracts, today you found yourself free to return directly to Yuehai Pavilion to find Ganyu. 

Ending the day with her had become a tradition ever since you joined the Qixing. You would forever be grateful for the way she took you under her wing. It was only around her that you felt comfortable letting your guard down, openly displaying the effect Rex Lapis had on you.

Being in his presence (you had been praying to him since you were nothing more than a child) had left your mind spinning, and you only noticed when Ganyu pointed out: his coat is still draped over your shoulders. 

“I know we sent you there dressed in gold,” she teased, “but I hardly expected you to actually find yourself wedded. You’ve risen quite above your station, haven’t you?” 

Around her, it’s easy to drop the pretense of dignity, so you feel no shame when you gasp and clap your hand over your mouth. “I forgot to return his coat!” 

“Are you sure you just forgot ?”

“What are you saying?” Ganyu is like an older sister to you - which means she also finds the greatest pleasure in poking fun at you. 

“Oh, nothing. Just that you were awfully enamored with Rex Lapis as a little girl. I wonder if you really grew out of it? It wouldn’t surprise me if-“ 

“Enough! I’m going home.” 

The sound of her bright, airy laughter follows you all the way back home. When you hang the coat up in the foyer, a light fragrance drifts down to your nose. It smells like him - like osmanthus flowers and sweet wine. You’re almost reluctant to let it go as you climb into your silk sheets.