Tumgik
#honestly this is probably the longest post i've ever made
gotham-daydreams · 8 months
Text
Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
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Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
–––––
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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osaemu · 5 months
Text
GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.
contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).
author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!
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ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.
at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.
last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 
but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.
you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 
a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”
you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”
after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”
“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.
but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.
it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.
“i don’t think this is working.”
six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.
“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”
“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—
“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?
satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.
“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 
satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”
your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”
“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”
you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”
“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”
his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”
your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."
you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"
satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.
he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."
you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"
satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".
and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.
satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 
and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.
the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.
a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.
as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.
toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?
toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig
you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.
satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.
the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.
so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.
“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 
the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.
“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”
nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.
suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 
toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy
yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(
inumaki: chat is this real??
satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.
“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.
satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—
“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”
and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.
a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.
suguru: r u ok?
you: yeah ig
suguru: do u want anything?
satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.
but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 
somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.
the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.
when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”
you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.
satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”
you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.
the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.
after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.
you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.
“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 
“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”
“no, really, it’s alright.”
“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”
“let’s just go.”
the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 
the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 
after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 
satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.
you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”
satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 
“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?
well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”
what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.
“i— uh, i mean—”
“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”
he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 
ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”
your heart breaks again.
“then why did you—”
“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”
you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.
“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”
“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”
“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”
satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”
“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”
“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”
“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”
“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”
“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 
“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 
“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”
he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”
6K notes · View notes
fatuismooches · 2 years
Note
Hello
I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️
Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)
I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋
-🦎
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡
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synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!
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Pierro:
Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.
It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.
Dear Pierro,
Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 
You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 
Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.
Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.
Capitano:
Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.
But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.
My knight,
I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.
It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)
I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.
I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.
Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.
Columbina:
It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.
There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.
My lovely melody,
Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.
Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.
I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.
Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.
Dottore:
Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.
It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.
To Zandik,
I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)
I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.
I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.
His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.
Pulcinella:
It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 
Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.
Hey Papanella,
Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.
I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)
I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.
Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.
Scaramouche:
Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.
When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.
He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.
To my beloved Kunikuzushi,
As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.
But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)
I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)
I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…
Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?
Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…
Arlecchino:
Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.
Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.
To my sunshine,
I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.
I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.
Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 
But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.
Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.
La Signora:
Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.
Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.
My dearest Rosalyne,
Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 
Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…
I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.
Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)
Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.
Pantalone:
Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.
The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.
Darling,
Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.
I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)
I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.
I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.
Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.
Sandrone:
It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.
Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?
My forever,
I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.
I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.
Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.
I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.
Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.
Childe:
Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.
Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.
To my one and only Ajax,
My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 
But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…
Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)
You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.
Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…
He didn���t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.
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calumsargwife · 8 months
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"You Are In Love"
calum hood x fem!reader
summary: the journey of how you and Calum found out you are in love.
warnings: use of cigarettes and mentions of alcohol, a little bit of bad language (if i let something out let me know!)
word count: 4.7k (damn)
note: well this one is completely based on the song from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift. i know it took a while but here it is, it's the longest i've ever written. i don't know if someone's gonna read this since it's so long but since you guys seemed to like the first one i wrote i decided to post this one. i never wrote something like this, so i hope you like it!! (English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors, sorry!)
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One look, dark room. Meant just for you. Time moved too fast. You play it back. Light-hearted joke. No proof, not much. But you saw enough.
It was one of the many parties that took place at Ashton's house, people gathering for some reason to celebrate. The man honestly loved being the host, always making sure all of his guests were having a good time. The house was in a homely atmosphere (something Ashton always made sure was there), there was a little alcohol involved but nothing too crazy, the music was just the right volume and it was something everyone could dance to. There was good food and probably some fun board game that would make everyone a little more drunk.
It had all started about an hour ago when Calum decided to show up. It was cold, a November night where despite the weeks in advance, you could already feel the Christmas spirit.
Calum would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was going to see you after the last date you two had. Before knocking on the door of the house, he briefly remembered the last outing that you shared, it was incredible.
After so long Calum had finally dared to confess his feelings for you, one of his best friends in the whole world. And you, who was completely surrendered at the boy's feet, said that you felt the same. You two met five years ago and connected instantly, not knowing how or why but it happened and both of you were so happy, you felt that the time you had with each other was never enough to stop being surprised. Being friends first had given the two of them a kind of comfort like no other.
And that's how it was, in the last few weeks you shared several dates and everything was going great, you already knew each other but with all this that was happening, you learned even more things. Everything was getting more serious and Calum was scared, but he liked it.
Once inside the house, Calum took off his coat and scanned the room looking to meet your eyes, and the moment that happened, he gave you a look that was meant only for you. A look that Calum only saved for when he looked at you. A look that made you blush in the best way.
However, Calum quickly found himself being greeted by his friends. You sighed but didn't complain, you repeated in your mind the moment in which your eyes connected and you couldn't help but feel how your breathing stopped slightly because of those eyes that you had learned to love so much in this last few years.
It all ended up being just a quick glance. The night continued and after a while, you ran into Calum (well, he ran into you). He was wearing a black shirt that accentuated his figure perfectly, you would have loved to take him in your arms at that very moment. He knew that, he had worn this shirt because he knew you would like it.
You met about an hour after Calum had arrived, he was having a good time with his friends but at some point he felt that they were holding him back too much from being able to have a chat with you. 'Who am I kidding?' That was the first thing he thought when he saw you again, Calum had been wanting to talk to you all night. You were turning your back on him while looking at the big city from the balcony of the apartment. You had on a beautiful black silk dress, it left your back bare, something that drove Calum crazy.
"Missing me already?" Calum joked after he finally found you alone "I bet you're getting bored without me." He assured in a teasing tone. He approached you and analyzed you, you were wearing a gold necklace and your nails were painted red, you held a glass with some alcohol. His hand gently brushed your arm and you could feel an electrifying touch that woke up every fiber inside you. You love how he makes you feel.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his very confident statement. "I was getting along pretty well without you, actually." You smiled and looked sincerely into his eyes this time. "I missed you." You could see how his eyes were filled with intrigue at what you had said, waiting for a reconfirmation. "I really did."
Calum smiled sweetly and couldn't help but look away from your beautiful eyes for a second to calm down. He really didn't want to blush right now. "Well, I'm glad. I've been thinking about you all night."
It might seem like a simple thing but it really makes you happy to hear that he thought of you the same way you thought of him. You liked knowing you were on his mind.
Small talk, he drives. Coffee at midnight. The light reflects. The chain on your neck. He says, "Look up". And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough.
Of course your night didn't end there. Calum proposed that you spend the night at his house and you immediately said yes. The truth is that the time you had spent at the party had not been enough for you two.
You felt a kind of excitement as Calum drove home. You guys weren't talking much in the car, the background music set the mood perfectly and you didn't need anything to talk about either. Small talk was enough to keep you entertained along the way.
Once at Calum's house, you guys set about relaxing. Still formally dressed, you were sitting in the chair that Calum had located on the terrace of his apartment. A perfect place to look at the stars.
Two cups of coffee at midnight, one for you and one for Calum. Drinking coffee gives you the little hope that you could stay up longer just to spend more time together, because it wasn't enough, it was never enough. You two loved to talk, you always had something to talk about and it never got boring. Maybe at some point you didn't have a topic of conversation, but you guys invented something so you could have an excuse to be together. Because it wasn't enough. Calum didn't know how to explain this insatiable feeling of wanting to always be chatting with you, something that really surprised him since he was normally a person who enjoyed silence.
You smiled sweetly at something Calum had said and looked away from him so you could look at your phone for a few seconds to see the time. It was half past twelve at night, already entering the early morning. You smiled to yourself at the feeling of being calm with the boy you liked.
You were wearing a gold chain with a 'C' charm on it, a cheesy and stupid gift Calum had given you for your birthday a couple of years ago. He could appreciate how it shone in the moonlight.
Speaking of the moon, Calum realized that it was at its highest point. He looked at you and spoke to you softly, since you were still looking at your cell phone. He said "Look up" and you immediately looked up from your device. You settled into the chair with the cup of coffee in your hand and you felt how his shoulder lightly brushed against yours.
And that was it. That was enough to know what you felt.
You can hear it in the silence, silence, you.
Calum was fully focused on the moon, leaving you a perfect view of his profile. The place was silent and you could still clearly hear the feeling that you now knew you had. You were afraid of being stunned by this, but actually, the opposite happened, it was all you wanted to hear.
It was so clear, so loud and so strong. You felt a pressure in your chest, that pressure was just letting you know that what you were feeling was actually true. Your insides were full of heartwarming thoughts in just a second, but you loved every single second of it.
The fact that the place was completely silent and that Calum had no idea what you were thinking about added a bit of fun to all this, if only he knew.
You were completely immersed in this new sensation, which was leaving you completely cut off from all the other things that might be going on around you.
You can feel it on the way home, way home, you
You returned home only the next day in the afternoon, the sky was beginning to darken. After a little argument about Calum wanting to take you home and you saying it wasn't necessary, you were finally making your way home on your own. You wanted to get some air and think about what had been revealed to you last night.
As you walked home you could feel the refreshing air in your hair and in your arms. You clung a little more to Calum's sweatshirt.
And that pressure in your chest came back. You've never liked a sensation so much. You couldn't help but smile in love as you looked at the scenery around you. The night was beginning for some.
You loved him. You loved Calum. You love him.
You just couldn't believe it. The idea of falling in love for you was something that was long gone and not something you expected to find again. You especially didn't expect to fall in love with Calum.
But at the same time you were not surprised. Loving Calum was so easy, he was just perfect. You couldn't not love him. He made it look so easy. And you loved loving him, it was something that just filled you up inside and you were so happy that the person you love is Calum.
You continued walking down what would soon be a dark street. Focusing on the sound of your shoes or how the things you found on the way home reminded you of him. Everything reminded you of him.
You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love. You are in love.
Once you got home you closed the front door and leaned your back against it. You sighed while smiling. The whole room was dark, the lights still not on.
In one of the furniture where you had photos with your friends you came to distinguish your favorite photo of the whole house. It was a photo of you and Calum hugging in front of the stage where he and the boys were going to give their show later. There were hours left for the concert and you took advantage of the moment to take pictures. You smiled to yourself remembering.
God, you are in love.
Morning, his place. Burnt toast, Sunday. You keep his shirt. He keeps his word.
It was a Sunday morning at Calum's house. The night before for the two of you had been magical. The two of you hadn't felt this connection with someone in a long time and you knew it.
You were lying on the bed, giving each other lazy kisses on the lips, on the neck, on the cheeks, on the arms, everywhere. Calum wanted to kiss every inch of you.
Calum sighed and moved slightly away from you. "I'm gonna make us breakfast, okay?" He said to then give you one last kiss on the cheek while inhaling your sweet perfume.
"Okay" You replied with a goofy smile as you watched him go to the kitchen.
A little later you stretched one last time and got out of bed too, looking for something to wear. You looked at one of the shirts Calum wears to train, you decided on a navy blue one.
As you walked to the kitchen you remembered what Calum had told you before you guys fell asleep. "I'll be here in the morning." And he kept his word, he was there. You looked at him before entering the kitchen, he was making coffee and toast for the two of you.
"The coffee smells good." You said as you walk into the kitchen. Brushing his arm with your hand when you passed by.
"I hope it tastes just as good as it smells." He answered with a smile without turning to look at you yet, taking another slice of bread to toast.
You chuckled softly, remembering the times Calum had been disappointed in how his own coffee turned out.
At the sound of your laughter Calum turned and looked at you. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, admiring how well it looked on you. He would be lying if he said he doesn't want that to be his sight every morning. He loved having you in all his everyday things.
"That color suits you." He said admiring you while he wrapped his arms around your waist and left you a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you." You answered while looking away so that your blush is not so obvious.
Calum chuckled very softly, keeping the smile on his face. He tucked one of the hairs that was on your face behind your ear and that made you turn your head to look at him.
Calum couldn't help but get completely lost in your eyes, it was something that completely mesmerized him and he knew it, he always knew it. From the moment he met you, your eyes were what he liked the most about you.
You were also completely lost by him, admiring the details of his face, seeing how there was a slight beard on his jaw, something that you knew he was going to shave later. You analyzed the small freckles around his nose, they had appeared after spending a day in the sun at the beach with his friends.
Then you raised your eyes to his and they stayed that way, looking at each other. Calum absolutely watching every move you made, admiring everything.
You don't know how long you stayed like that until you could smell the burnt smell of toast and Calum's scared face, who broke away from you in a second and immediately went to see the toaster.
A moment later he turned around and looked at you with a pout. "They burned."
Let out a laugh and you approached to give him a kiss on his pout. "We can make pancakes." You proposed with a sweet smile.
Calum smiled, completely melting at your smile. "We can, but none of those cute little eyes of yours when I'm cooking. I don't want burnt pancakes."
And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.
Today was the day. 5 Seconds of Summer would release a new song. One that Calum personally wrote. And to say that the boy was nervous was an understatement.
He was feeling very scared for some reason. He didn't understand why. This song was beautiful and he was very proud of it, it was also an extremely vulnerable song that had taken him months to write, he was afraid of looking too fragile in the public eye and that people might not like it.
To be honest, it's a song he wrote for you, although he doesn't know if you were aware of this. The song talked about what it was like to let someone into your heart again and how scared he was to suffer again and to let go of all those ghosts from the past that haunt him.
God, he was nervous.
The boys had proposed to meet up for the launch, but Calum declined, declaring that this time he'd rather stay at his house with you by his side.
You two were sitting on the terrace of Calum's house. He was smoking a cigarette for the nerves and you were having some vanilla tea (it was your favorite and Calum had bought it especially for you). His leg was bobbing up and down as a sign of his current anxiety. You put your hand on his thigh wanting him to stop and you looked at him with a little tenderness.
"Cal, what's going on? You've been very nervous for the last few hours." My God, Calum hated how well you could read him.
He never talks about this, with anyone. Talking about his feelings is something he struggles with a lot, always in the end transforming what happens to him into songs. But Calum knew that talking about this with you was the right thing to do, knowing that if he wants to be with you then he has to start trusting you with these kinds of things.
"It's just... It's been a while since I wrote something like that, y'know... I know I always write about past experiences but this song is about the two of us and I don't know..." Calum sighed trying to collect his thoughts. "I guess I'm afraid of looking weak in front of everyone, I guess, I don't know..." It made him angry that he couldn't tell you exactly what he was thinking, he didn't know what he was feeling at that moment.
"Calum, the song you wrote is great, it's vulnerable, yes, but that makes it even more meaningful. I think that's going to make people like it more, you know?" You caressed his leg in search of being able to give him comfort.
"I know, I know..." Calum prepared himself for what he was going to say, it seemed to him something very stupid and meaningless but he knew it was necessary. He took another drag on his cigarette and turned so he could look you in the eye. "I think it scares me that once you know how I really feel you're going to run from me." He explained with a slightly shaky voice.
You couldn't help feeling how your heart softened for him. You brought your hand to his cheek and he leaned into it. You felt him visibly relax at your touch. "That's not gonna happen and you know it, right?"
He nodded as he studied your face with those sweet brown eyes of his. Calum didn't tell you but he really felt a weight less on his shoulders. He could feel how he was getting closer and closer to a certain feeling that he had been avoiding for a long time.
"I don't want to write a heartbroken song about you."
You kiss on sidewalks. You fight and you talk.
Calum loved walking with you down the street. Unlike his past relationships, this time he was not afraid to go out with you and show how much he liked you, he is not ashamed and wants to show the world who he's with.
But at the same time he wants to protect you, he doesn't like how public his life can be sometimes. He liked the feeling of his hands rubbing against yours when you are walking down a street with a lot of people, he liked having something just for him and that no one else can take it away from him.
His favorite part is when you're finally on some empty sidewalk and he can finally kiss you freely, he's dying to kiss you anywhere, but he knows that if he wants everything to remain as private as it is now, then he has to take certain precautions.
However, this has brought several discussions in the relationship.
"Why are you so angry?" Calum asked once he closed the door to his apartment, you glared at him a few feet from him.
"It annoys me that every time we walk into a room with the least amount of people, you immediately let go of my hand as if I were some kind of plague!" You knew why Calum was doing it but at the same time you couldn't help but get frustrated. Sometimes you wish Calum wasn't a public figure.
"I don't treat you like you're a plague! I just want to keep things between us!" Calum was frowning and breathing heavily.
"I understand that you want to have your private life but sometimes I feel that you exceed yourself! You don't want anyone to see us at all and it's tiring me!" You felt like a fool wanting to cry about this, but you couldn't help but make your eyes go glassy with anguish.
Calum sighed before answering, thinking about what he was going to tell you. The other day you guys had a fight over the exact same issue before going into a party. "If you know why I do it then why are you angry?!" He yelled at you, feeling how anger began to enter his body.
"Because sometimes it seems like you're ashamed of me!" You angrily yelled at him all your frustrations, trying to make him understand.
"You know that's not how I feel." He stated with a rather serious tone, you've never heard him talk like that.
"I would know how you feel if you would just tell me!" You are not going to deny that you felt a weight less after saying that. Calum always had trouble expressing his feelings but with such crucial things it was important that he tell you.
He clenched his jaw. "Are you always going to reproach me for the same thing? You know it's something I'm working on! It's not easy and yet you keep insisting!" Calum ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
"Of course I'm going to keep insisting if I don't see any change! It's always the same, I have to pressure you to tell me what's wrong with you and I don't want it to be like that anymore." You ran your hand under your eyeliner to wipe away a stubborn tear that had escaped. "I feel that you don't trust me to tell me your things and I don't know what I have to do anymore..." Now your face was covered by tears in a matter of seconds.
Calum completely collapsed seeing you cry. He quickly approached you and took your head in his hands to kiss your hair and then snuggle you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're right, sorry." He gave you small kisses on the temple in search of giving you comfort. "I'm sorry, you're right."
One night he wakes. Strange look on his face. Pauses, then says. 'You're my best friend'. And you knew what it was. He is in love.
It was another one of the nights where Calum stayed the night at your house. You two were asleep in your bed, snuggled up to each other, him being that natural warmer that he is.
Calum was lying on your chest, you were cuddling lying on your bed. About an hour ago he had fallen asleep after a tiring day in the studio with the boys. You, on the other hand, weren't sleepy, so you stayed on your phone, fooling around on social media.
Suddenly, you felt how he moved over you and how he began to wake up.
Calum moved off of you to lie next to you, he had a weird look on his face, you were trying to figure out what he was thinking.
Then he looked at you. "You're my best friend."
And you knew, you knew what was happening to him. He was in love. In love with you.
"You're my best friend too, Cal." You smiled sweetly at him and he could feel how he melted, your smiles always killed him in the best way. You put your hand on his jaw and brought him in for a sweet, passionate kiss, making sure it was one that would take his breath away.
"You're going to kill me one day." Calum hid his smile against your arm and blushed. You laughed and stroked his curls tenderly.
You can hear it in the silence, silence, you. You can feel it on the way home, way home, you. You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love.
It was days later where Calum was returning from the studio to his house, he was driving and found himself stuck in traffic. Too distracted thinking about you to be bothered by the number of cars.
You guys hadn't seen each other all week due to your respective jobs and he couldn't miss you more. It was night and not having the lights on inside the car made everything dark, his mind was too busy to put on music, so he enjoyed the silence there was.
Not getting you out of his head, he started humming your favorite song. Giving little taps on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.
And that's when it hit him.
"Oh, shit." Calum stopped everything he was doing to focus on what he was thinking.
He couldn't help but think a 'really?'. Hell, he hadn't felt this in a long time.
Unconsciously his heart began to race. His head was going a thousand an hour and the only thing that appeared in his mind was your name.
He couldn't believe what he was feeling. A kind of pressure settled in his chest and he loved it. Calum couldn't help but smile as he ran his hands over his face and tried to hide the smile he had, even though no one was there to see it.
"I love her. I fucking love her." Calum declared as he looked out the window, the car in silence after his confession. He felt himself blushing even though no one had told him anything and how he had an incredible desire to see you.
And for the first time in his entire life, after so many broken hearts and failed relationships, Calum wasn't afraid to love. He didn't feel that irreparable fear that something was going to go wrong, he felt love, true love.
He used to be scared, so, so scared. Fear that leaving another relationship will leave him completely destroyed and without any hope of ever being loved again. Calum always had that feeling that perhaps he was destined to be alone, believing that this had been proven after so many situations in his past.
But everything changed when you arrived. From the first moment your eyes met, he knew that you had come to change his life. You became the light of his life in just a second and that scared him at first. But he didn't care, he thought if he had to have his heart broken for you then so be it. However, now he knew that it would not be like that, you were not going to leave and he knew that you were going to take care of his heart perfectly like no one had ever done before.
Calum was sure you were meant to be together.
Because he was in love.
And he wanted to believe in love for once.
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yanxidarlings · 8 months
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YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER PT2
so more of the slytherin boys was in the lead last night and inspiration struck, but i still will be doing whichever option has the most votes by the end of the week, and eventually i'll probably have all of the concepts up, if you haven't already you can vote here.
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so i did more reading up on mattheo and lorenzo, and i honestly don't know where to pick up from, i'm thinking of making this my main concept for yandere hp and building on it.
the last post specified the darling as the dormmate of our dear slytherin boys here, but many of the headcanons can be applied to a fem darling, or darling from another house. it's quite intriguing to imagine someone who had grown up close to draco, theo, ect. getting sorted into a different house; i can honestly see this being a trigger for the boys' yandere tendencies to develop.
sure theo was attached before, but he had never even entertained the possibility of not getting sorted into slytherin together. and what do you mean the darling won't be there to knock draco down a peg when he won't stop talking down to goyle?. how is blaise supposed to get through seven years of not watching his darling everynight whilst they sleep?
i might expand on this in my future ravenclaw (possibly hufflepuff) posts. for now i want to delve into the individual yandere characteristics of each slytherin (i'm considering adding pansy, adrian, other slytherins) to the concept if anyone else is interested.
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DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):
i think i've made it painfully obvious draco is alot to deal with as a yandere. he's got a bit of everything and even more; but overall, he is overwhelmingly obsessive. his obsession is driven by irrepressible thoughts of his darling. ever since he was a child, separating from them has simply felt wrong, i think he's likely to have known the darling the longest, perhaps having grown up close to them.
maybe his darling is a member of the black family, or a lestrange, or hails from another prominent family, thus he has been brought up closely next to them.
there's no one he feels more comfortable around, his darling is his home, which would be sweet if he weren't willing to kill and maim others to keep his darling with him.
his darling was probably hoping, praying to get sorted into any house but slytherin, it didn't take a ravenclaw to know draco would only get worse if they shared a dorm/common room. immediately, he claims the bed next to his darling, and already has pestered his father into arranging them a private dorm together, but that old oaf dumbledore refused because "all students must be treated equally." what bullshit. if you ask draco.
he won't let his darling interact with anyone "don't lower yourself and associate with the likes of them" and socially isolates them. don't you dare wander off, it'll end in the biggest tantrum, and don't even think about dating, the entire slytherin dorm will implode on itself.
draco needs constant attention, his darling is all he thinks about so he expects them to only think about him as well. you'll quickly learn that it's best to give draco the attention he wants. it's not that he plans to give his darling a hard time, but he becomes moody, both mean and clingy at the same time. he'll have his arm around his darlings waist whilst accusing them of being a blood traitor, and attacking their insecurities, then a few hours later he crawls into bed whispering sweet nothings.
it leaves his darling on the edge, because sometimes these mood swings happen even when paying him the attention he so desperately craves.
this could lead to his darling keeping a facade up in front of him, so he has less ammunition during his mood swings, but if he suspects his darling of not being as open and comfortable around him as he is them, all hell breaks loose.
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THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):
but he's not as sensitive about his darlings perception of him as theo is. perhaps sensitive isn't the correct word as much as demanding. theodore demands his darling be open and honest with him, he wants to know about every ache and thought they have. however he is best characterised as a possessive yandere. above all he cannot live with the thought of sharing his darling with anyone.
sharing, in theo's mind, is anyone even casting a glance upon his darling. why isn't his company enough? why does his darling have to interact with undeserving rodents like malfoy, potter and the weasleys? he would completely abandon his life outside of his darling if they just asked would anyone else do that for them? no!.
they're the person that matters most to him, and he wants to be the only person his darling cares about as well.
theodore has likely known his darling since childhood, perhaps they shared similarly harsh parents/guardians, and bonded over that. it would make it all the more easier to theo to manipulate them into staying close to him.
his company is not as dreadful as draco's, and he doesn't demand physical affection and praise as much as the latter does, not if his darling is not willing. but there is still a part of him that yearns to press up against them and never let go.
he simply cannot handle his darling distancing themselves from him, and is quick to resort to threats, blackmail, emotional manipulation, anything that he thinks will keep him and his darling close.
he is another one who will shamelessly confess his love and attraction to his darling, and has already 'claimed' them in a strange way; everyone at hogwarts seems to identify theo out of the slytherin boys as the one the reader is 'dating', to theo's delight. his darling doesn't have to agree with the rumours or even think of them as a couple, as far as he's concerned, they've been together since they met.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):
the only one who i imagine the darling meets when they start at hogwarts is mattheo. whichever year he starts at hogwarts, he's immediately intrigued by them (for whatever reason). maybe the rest of his dormmates take poorly to his blood status, and the darling is the first to welcome him, or maybe ol' moldy voldy has tasked him with extracting something from the reader.
no matter what jumpstarts his obsession, it develops at an alarmingly fast rate, one week he's glancing over at them in class, the next he's invading their thoughts whilst they sleep and following them in the halls.
his darling likely won't take too easily to his sudden interest in them, they've already been dealing with several unsettling slytherins for years, and are probably always on guard.
not like mattheo cares. if he wants to be close to them, he will. he knows draco and his gang have to treat him with courtsey if they want their families to stay in the dark lords good graces, as does his darling. so he inserts himself (quite violently) into his darlings life.
it should be harder than it is considering his short temperament and his darlings cautious nature, but he's able to understand his darling on an intense level due to his inherited legilimency.
no matter how uncomfortable his darling is around him, he can just invade their mind and lock them in a room with him if he wants to spend time with them. and he always gets what he wants.
he seldom reveals that he is reading their mind, lest they feel the need to develop occlumency. it also gives him a kick knowing their raw thoughts, he could never even say a word to his darling and still know them better than anyone else does. including the other slytherins.
deep down mattheo's incredibly insecure about his connection with his darling; out of theo, blaise, goyle, enzo, draco, he's known them for the least amount of time. he's the only half-blood. he's evil incarnate son of the dark lord himself. he'd only bring them pain and suffering but he can't bring himself to let go of them either.
whilst theo, draco, enzo and even goyle will confess their affection for their darling, and perhaps admit to what they've done, mattheo will only do the latter, and does not provide any context as to why he hexed weaslette after the darling complimented her quidditch skills, nor will he elaborate on why he must take showers at the exact same time as his darling everyday.
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BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):
blaise shares his concealed affection for the darling. you could be none the wiser to his deep seeded affetion for you for years only to suddenly be told that he's your betrothed and now he refers to himself as your fiance and invites you to sleep in his bed as if it's the most normal thing ever.
among them all, blaise is the most calm and calculated. he knows that following his darling around and monopolising their interactions makes him look bad but sometimes he just can't help it. he has to sneer at granger who the darling got paired with in potions, and make remarks about how disgusting muggle and mudbloods are.
but he doesn't think he's better than muggleborns; he thinks he's better than everyone. i think blaise is the most likely to develop an obsession for a shallow reason, maybe the readers is aphrodite personified, hails from a prominent pureblood family that his mother is encouraging him to marry into or is incredibly intelligent, their actual character couldn't matter less to him. from the moment he decides they're his, they're his.
blaise is uniquely one of the only ones who actually wants his darling to love and show him affection of their own accord (meaning he would be nice enough to give them amortentia).
he wants them to be happy, but he also wants them to be entirely dependent on him. he takes on a sort of big brotherly role, he encourages them to eat and sleep well. he wants to be the one they ask opinions on outfits, schoolwork, ect. he thinks if they rely on him for everything, it'll be impossible for them to leave.
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):
out of all of them, enzo is by far the 'softest', as mentioned in the previous post, he's the 'sane, normal' one out of all of them. he doesn't act strangely creepy (sorry blaise it's true), disturbingly controlling (don't deny it mattheo), possessive, obsessive or devoted to them. he comes across as the 'best friend', the sidekick in every romance novel that offers advice and stays out of the drama.
this is because he initially see's his fixation on his darling as nothing but a desire to protect them from those lunatics he and his darling call 'friends'. but why does his heart drop when he see's them getting pulled into a room by mattheo, or when blaise stares at them as if they are a veela. it's not jealousy it's concern for his poor mate. yeah, that's it.
and why can't he stand to be left out of their attempts to evade the others, or when they don't confide in him, whether their troubles are slytherin related or not.
he's probably the only one who realises how messed up what they all do is, the rest justify it, but when enzo eventually gives in to his obsession he doesn't pretend to be in the right. he's apologetic but he just can't let them go.
the only thing that would set him off would be them distancing themselves from him. he can handle sharing, but the idea of his darling avoiding him, not viewing him as the safe haven from the rest really drives him to insanity.
i also think lorenzo would be the one who convinces everyone to share their darling once shit hits the fan and everyone wants to take the reader for themself.
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GREGORY GOYLE (cast josh herdman):
goyle is honestly just happy he gets to be around his darling. yeah, it would be nice if he could have them to himselves, and not just be a lackey for draco to sabotage the others. maybe his darling treats him with a bit more benevolence and he's grown attached to them over the years.
always willing to lend a helping hand, i think he's the least possessive out of all of them, and is best characterised as a devoted yandere. whilst the rest of them want to maintain some level of control over the reader, he's content just being near them. he doesn't even have to talk to them but it's a plus.
i wonder if he's actually as bad at school as he acts or if he just doesn't bother listening so that the darling has to dedicate time to tutoring him. no one knows.
goyle will really have to fight tooth and nail to be apart of the sharing arrangement enzo, draco, theo, mattheo and blaise somehow eventually come to. (that i will expand upon in a future post because this is getting long).
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cryoculus · 1 year
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— dream a little (dream of me) ⟢
you're a modern-day succubus just trying to get by, and your superior, mister zhongli is next on your hit-list. but every time you invade his dreams, he becomes someone else entirely…
★ FEATURING; zhongli x succubus!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 23.3k words
★ TAGS; modern au, office au, superior-subordinate relationship, angst, like SO MUCH angst, zhongli dreams abt his past life as rex lapis, smut
★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (minors dni), some depictions of violence (it was the archon war so), reader gets drunk at some point in the story and a co-worker exhibits unwanted interest, near-death experiences, mentions of pregnancy
★ NOTES; this was the longest thing i've ever written in one sitting TT wrote it for 3 days straight, and i'm honestly still proud of it even a year later! take note that this was loosely based off a manhwa i read in passing called sweet dream, so if the plot is a liiittle familiar to you, that's probably why!
★ HEADER ART CR; donaldakron on twt
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★ SMUT TAGS; sex dreams, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, i-thought-i-was-gonna-lose-you-forever sex, riding, the perfect balance of sweet and dirty talk, creampie
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“Miss? Are you alright?”
You blink out the spots in your eyes when you hear Ganyu call out to you in a worried tone. She’s standing awkwardly by the side of your cubicle when you finally snap out of it, and you receive the documents in her hands with a rushed apology.
“Sorry, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately,” you reason, signing whatever she needs to have signed before handing it back. “This is nothing, though. Anything else you need?”
She hesitates for a moment, as if gauging whether or not she should pry, before speaking her mind. “Um, if you’re having trouble falling asleep, I could recommend a shop that sells qingxin petal tea. It’s based in Feiyun Slope, and I always order my stress relieving herbs from there.”
Despite the weight settling across your eyelids, you manage to flash Ganyu a gentle smile, tearing a blank Post-It off the pad on your desk before giving it to her. “Could you write down the name of the store? I’ll make sure to check it out before I head home for the night.”
Ganyu visibly perks up. “O-Of course!”
When she slides the piece of paper back onto your desk, the secretary exchanges farewells with a curt nod – saying she has to pass over the files for Mister Zhongli’s perusal before anything else. If Ganyu notices the way your staged grin falters, she doesn’t say anything. But once you’re alone, you can only slink back into your chair with a contemplative look on your face. 
You aren’t going to check out the store that Ganyu recommended like you initially promised. After all, your kind has never responded much to any sort of human medicine. Whatever’s bothering you is only going to be resolved if you stop being stubborn and fed on time – something you only care to do once a month at most. 
Even after living your life as a succubus for almost twenty-four years, the idea of having to draw out your life force from… that still made you sick to your stomach. It’s bad enough that your strange constitution wouldn’t let you settle down and have normal relationships, but having to constantly find a source of nutrition is a pain in and of itself. 
Your body has quite the standard for the men you’re supposed to suck some sexual energy out of, too. When you indiscriminately pick some rando you saw on the street, you might not effectively absorb the energy you harvested if you aren’t invested enough.
Case in point: unless you try to sleep with someone you remotely care about in their dreams, you’re going to keep craving for a proper fix.
Last month, you had to terrorize the poor barista who’s been serving you coffee at that new café across the street. You thought he wouldn’t think much of it, since you had the inkling the guy was hitting on you every time you ordered. But lo and behold, mister charming, suave barista is actually quite timid when it goes down to it. Your sessions usually took an hour at most to complete and you wouldn’t have to harvest energy again for at least another month. But that guy? You could barely ask him to strip without having to deal with him stumbling out of his dream-bed out of sheer embarrassment. Took you three hours in that dreamscape just to get the bare minimum out of him. And that just goes to show that the people you meet aren’t always what they seem to be – yourself included.
As entertaining as that session turned out though, you couldn’t really make substantial progress with mister barista, which eventually led to your premature hunger pangs. You started feeling a bit off-kilter last week, but you made the mistake of listing it off as nothing but a seasonal flu or something. Once your co-workers caught wind of how exhausted you are at work, you knew it was that time of the month again.
You can always just make up for the minimal energy gain of harvesting from a complete stranger by invading multiple strangers’ dreams, but you still have some shred of dignity. Well, you could just settle with the men in your department, but those slobs are the last ones you’d ever consider sleeping with. But then again, your team is working on a big, end-of-year project that you can’t afford to slack off on, so you need to find this month’s match before your body shuts down completely – even if that means seducing your awful desk neighbor in his sleep.
“Hard at work again, I see.”
You startle at the sound of a deep-seated voice coming from behind you, whisking your chair around to see your boss showing you a kind smile. It isn’t unusual for Zhongli to do some rounds in the office, but –
“Ganyu was looking for you, sir,” you blurt out, trying not to focus on how his neatly pressed tie compliments his eyes. “She had me sign some documents for the project you asked me to oversee, and it seems like she was on her way to your office.”
He hums. “I see. I just made a quick trip to the pantry, but I’ve yet to figure out how one operates the machine they installed in the break room. That’s why I just asked my assistant to purchase a drink from the coffee shop down the street… Are you alright? You’re looking quite pale.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been better,” you lie, trying to force out those memories of too-timid-for-his-own-good barista out of your head. “I’ll make sure to follow up on my assigned report at the end of the week, sir.” 
Once again, your senses jolt to life when you feel a large, comforting palm settle on your aching shoulders, giving you a few pats. The sincerity in Zhongli’s eyes doesn’t fade, and you’re seriously wondering how he has it to be so encouraging all the time.
“Everyone deserves to rest when their bodies require it,” he says. “Don’t hesitate to file for sick leave if you’re unable to perform at your fullest because of health reasons. I didn’t overhaul the employee benefits clause in your contracts for nothing.”
Your face heats up at the thought of your boss being this considerate of your well-being. You’ve been working at Wangsheng Corporation for almost two years now, but employees have never been treated the way Zhongli treats them. It’s a miracle that he got transferred here last month – with his gentle voice and mindfulness of others. When he walked through the doors of your department that day, the last thing you expected was a compassionate superior, given that all those assholes in the corporate ladder only cared about money and none else. He was easily a breath of fresh air in the smog of Liyue Harbor, and you’re not about to complain.
“I best be on my way,” he tells you with a hint of remorse. “I’ll be attending a board meeting in thirty minutes. Once it’s been adjourned, you can come to me if you need anything.”
Come to him if you need anything…  
For some reason, his words ring inside your head longer than they have to. But before you can even get your bearings straight, your mind is suddenly plagued with images of your boss in a more sensual setting. 
You picture a Zhongli who’s free from the stifling confines of his suit – regardless of how dashing he looks in it, you always wondered what he would look like dressed down. You imagine him lying on his bed, golden eyes half-lidded as he beckons you closer; how his hot breath would make your skin tingle as he whispers all the lewd things he wishes to do with you – 
“Of course, sir,” you tell him in real life, mustering up a smile that’s enough to hide your own embarrassment. “Thank you for taking the time to stop by.”
Zhongli raises a hand to wave at you before sauntering off to his office, leaving you alone with lecherous thoughts and a growling stomach. But the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you come to a guilty conclusion.
Guess I already found this month’s target. 
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The hardest part, you think, is falling asleep before feeding.
You’re still at odds with everything you had to do just to survive, so of course you’ll feel a bit queasy when you lay on your bed in preparation. Whether it’s that one cute barista or your attractive boss, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re nervous beyond belief. Navigating a person’s dreamscape is just as tricky as it sounds, and if you aren’t careful, the slightest mishap can lead to unwanted casualties. Worst case scenario: you might get trapped in the dream until the person you’re feeding off of wakes up. 
But you can trust your worrisome nature to keep that from happening. The only instance you’d ever get trapped in someone else’s dream is if you lose touch with your own existence within it. That’s why you tend to limit the degree of pleasure you feel in the dreamscape during your feedings. Orgasms are one of the many things that make people, succubi included, lose their grip on reality, so you make sure not to experience such a thing, no matter how tempting it could be at times. And while there are no explicit rules stating that your kind isn’t allowed to indulge in the desires of the flesh – let’s face it, you’re basically a sex demon – you’ve always been too afraid to lose yourself in something that isn’t even real.
You heave a deep sigh as you pull the covers up to your chest. It feels a bit humid lately, so you opted to wear a loose nightgown – one flimsy enough to hopefully tempt Zhongli in his dreams. In spite of the impeccable decorum he exhibits at work, surely he’s still just a man under all those layers of courteousness, right? Humans tend to be more unhinged during your feeding sessions (sans mister timid barista). If the Zhongli that regularly checks up on you at work would exercise more self-restraint, maybe he won’t be as gentlemanly once you hijack his dreams.
The plan is set in stone. Fall asleep, make your way into Zhongli’s head, have sex with him, and make a run for it. You’ve outlined the same plan of action during your previous feedings, so this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
Still, a small part of you still feels the bite of guilt for intruding on your boss’ peaceful night like this. In what little time he’s spent at Wangsheng Corporation, you can already call him the best superior you’ve ever had, and choosing him as your sacrificial lamb makes it seem as if you have no sense of indebtedness to him. But at the end of the day, you’re just a baser creature with needs to tend to or else you can’t move forward as a fully functioning member of society. 
Surprisingly, you doze off much quicker than usual. This must be from the fatigue you accumulated over the past week. Well, that’s what you get for not feeding the moment you started to feel something was off. Either way, you’re en-route to your boss’ subconscious and you’re going to feel much better right after the trip.
The in-between that connects your dream to Zhongli’s looks just like everyone else’s – a dark, narrow corridor that opens up to a light at the end. You traverse the familiar path with bare feet, not so much in a rush despite how hungry you are. Whether it’s your hesitation to use your boss like this holding you back or something else entirely, you’re not very sure. But once you finally step into the light, you close your eyes and hold your breath.
When you come to, you find yourself inside a wide cavern – making your face scrunch up in confusion once your mind processes your surroundings. You expected to appear in a bedroom in his apartment, maybe. But as you glance around the barely illuminated cave, you realize that your timing is incredibly off since Zhongli must have been having a weird dream. It’s happened once before when the person you were supposed to feed on dreamt of living inside the latest superhero movie he saw. Maybe Zhongli watched a strange documentary before heading to bed. That totally sounds like something he’d do.
You decide to have a closer look, noticing that the only sources of light inside are the stone torches perched on the sides of the cavern. Your curiosity gets the better of you when you attempt to approach the flames. But that plan is immediately thwarted once you accidentally step on something solid underfoot. It breaks underneath your weight – the sound echoing deeper into the cave. 
You can’t feel any sort of breeze inside, which cements your assumption that the corridor leads to a dead end. Something tells you that you’ll cross paths with another soul if you press forward, but your instincts, however flimsy they might be inside a dream, insist that you go back. To just forget about trying to feed today and just try again tomorrow. Maybe Zhongli wouldn’t be dreaming about weird tunnels by then. None of this is real, but the dread that’s slowly festering in the pit of your stomach is too apparent to ignore.
But it’s as if your body isn’t your own at the moment. Instead of heeding your own sense of danger, your feet carry you further into the darkness – making your imaginary heart pound with both anticipation and fear in equal measure. 
Your hunch is proven right when you spot a lone figure at the end of the cavern – observing you from afar where he’s seated rather comfortably. He has one elbow perched on the armrest of his seat, the side of his face resting atop a closed fist. You’re unable to recognize who he is at first, but once you’ve crossed the threshold of the man’s vicinity, you feel a pang of surprise surge through your veins.
“Mister Zhongli...?” 
No matter how closely you looked, he's the spitting image of your boss. However, it dawns on you half a second later that he is not the kind-hearted man you've been working with for the past month. This one sits atop a throne of jagged rock, golden antlers sprouting beneath his hood as eyes of a deeper shade glower on with disdain. 
“I do not remember giving you permission to speak,” he says, voice reminding you of untamed tremors deep within the earth – resonating with every word. “You best know your place before I'm forced to remind you of it.”
Back in your bedroom, you awake with a start.
Your heart threatens to bust out of your own rib cage with how hard it pounds against it – as if it’s barely catching up to what you just witnessed and heard. You’ve never once pulled yourself out of a dream so quickly, but there’s just something about that version of Zhongli that sets off every code-red alarm inside your head. That isn’t someone you’re going to easily seduce with a see-through nightgown and a bat of your eyelashes. In fact, that man (was he even human?!) looked like he could kill you if he wanted. 
“What the fuck?” you mutter, throwing the covers off yourself as you watch your hands tremble in your lap. “Who the hell was that…?”
You don’t have the slightest clue why you’re so shaken up. You’ve seen weirder dreamscapes in the past, but for some reason, when you stepped inside Zhongli’s, everything looked so life-like. As if you were actually transported to a real location in this world. If you actively tried to recall the details, you could’ve sworn you felt the gravel on your feet and caught the archaic scent of stone in the air. But what could a strange-looking Zhongli be doing inside such a place? You knew better than to assume there was a rhyme and reason behind a person’s dreams, but –
The sound of your ringtone going off nearly scares the living daylights out of you before you cast a frantic stare at the nightstand. There, your phone vibrates in time with the obnoxious noise, and you force yourself to get a grip. It’s over. You managed to escape whatever harrowing fate you could have ended up with had you stayed in Zhongli’s dream for even a second longer. There’s no use mulling over it now, is there?
Without checking who was insane enough to call you at this hour, you speak. “H-Hello?” 
“Hello. I do have the right number, yes?”
It takes you a moment for your mind to register the voice at the end of the line – that smooth baritone that you’ll never get tired of hearing. Of course Zhongli’s going to ring you up out of nowhere after that. 
If it were any other day, you would have swooned at the notion of your superior calling you so late, but this seems a bit too coincidental for comfort. The recurring joke that Zhongli can be a little bit of an airhead has been going around your department for a few weeks now, but sometimes you forget that he can still be as sharp as a whip. Could he have sensed something amiss from the dream you gave him? How did he even get your number?
“Sir,” you greet him as evenly as you can. “Is there something wrong?”
Zhongli is silent for a moment, as if deliberating the words. “Hmm… Nothing in particular. My apologies for disturbing you beyond work hours, but I feel like I had something to tell you but regrettably forgot.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, shifting on top of your bed as you swing your legs over the edge. “Well, if it’s about the report you assigned, I won’t be able to give you the numbers until the end of the week, sir.”
“You’re mistaken. My inquiry isn’t about work,” he tells you, chuckling in a way that makes you blush for some reason. “It’s something a bit personal…yet I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”
“...Is it important enough that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to discuss it?”
Alright, maybe you spoke a little out of line there. He’s your superior, yes, but your mind is still a bit frazzled from your earlier encounter in the dream. Zhongli certainly sounds like someone that just woke up, and while you like to entertain the idea that you’re the first person he thought about the moment his eyes opened, it’s not enough to dispel your unease. 
“Forgive me. Calling you at this hour does seem out of turn –” It is out of turn. “– but I had quite the odd dream. I can’t remember what exactly took place anymore, but I do remember you being in it.”
Calm down. He doesn’t remember the details – not that he had a lot to remember anyways. You could have sworn you only lasted two minutes in his head before scampering back to your own body because that’s how terrified you were. What’s even there to recall about it?
“I see,” you play along. “Maybe you were dreaming about work like usual. You do seem a bit more dedicated to your job than most.”
Zhongli breathes out another laugh that makes your insides tingle. Why does he sound infinitely sexier fresh out of slumber? “You really think that?” 
“Wouldn’t dream of anyone who does your job better than you do, sir.”
You wonder, at the last minute, if you said the right thing. But Zhongli lets out a satisfied hum from the other line, coupled with the sound of fabric rustling in the background. You try not to picture what he must look like right now – disheveled hair, unkempt sheets, drowsy eyes – but the image makes its way to your head regardless. The Zhongli you’re speaking to is already so different from the man you met in his dreams, and you can’t even see him right now. 
“I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your precious time,” he murmurs, sounding more and more apologetic by the minute. “Thank you for answering my call, regardless of what little value our conversation tonight harbored. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, hopefully when I’m in a better state of mind.”
Better state of mind, he says. So Zhongli was affected by that dream, too…
But that’s something you can definitely think about later.
“Anytime, sir,” you reply. “Good night.”
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“You’re looking worse and worse each day, you know that?”
This time, the person who bothers you at your cubicle is none other than your superior, Director Hu Tao. Though, even if she holds the highest position in the Wangsheng chain-of-command, she’s a bit too free-spirited to call a proper boss. 
She watches you slave away behind your laptop with folded arms, not looking the least bit amused. Though she wasn’t really meant to know, the director is one of the few people – more like, the only person – who’s aware of what you are and what you do to survive. It’s probably because Hu Tao comes from a family with deeper connections to all things supernatural, and thankfully, she’s more understanding of your predicament than you’d otherwise expect. 
In fact, she was kind enough to let you keep your job so long as you don’t let your…special needs affect your work. But for all of Hu Tao’s usual antics in the office, you know there’s no escaping her when she gets serious about something.
Especially when she’s nagging you about feeding intervals.
“When’s the last time, hm?” she asks, poking your cheek. “Aiya, you’ve lost the flab on your face. Come on, how am I supposed to pinch them now?” 
“About a month ago,” you grumble as you revise an important email for the fifth time today. “Director, shouldn’t you be in your office? I heard from Ganyu that you’ve been passing your work onto Mister Zhongli.”
“Pah, the consultant can deal with all the trifling matters in my stead.” Hu Tao shrugs. “Besides, he’s the one who started advocating for better employee conditions in this dump, right? I’m just making sure my subordinates are healthy and happy in the workplace~”
Speaking of Zhongli, it’s been a while since you saw him around. The last time you heard his voice was the night he called you out of nowhere – the same night you hijacked his dreams. Now, it’s already the end of the week and you’re yet to meet with Zhongli despite the deadline he gave you days prior. 
“I can hook you up with a bunch of guys I know,” Hu Tao suggests, unceremoniously swinging herself on top of your desk. “All you have to do is get inside their heads and do the magic, right? Hmm… If that’s the case, why don’t you just pick a random celebrity or something?”
“It doesn’t work that way, director,” you sigh. “If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be having this problem every month.” 
“Ehh, you’re so choosy.” She pouts. “If sharing a dream with strangers doesn’t work, why don’t you just come after them in real life? Nothing beats the real thing, right?”
You’re mildly aware of how loudly Hu Tao started to mouth off about your…predicament, but fortunately it was the middle of lunch break, and none of your desk neighbors were present to overhear. Pushing your chair from beneath the desk, you breathe in deep as you consider the director’s words. 
In hindsight, she was right. You know a bunch of succubi and incubi who copulate with humans nearly everyday – more because they’re weird sex addicts than them trying to last themselves to the next day. But you were drawing blanks as to how you’re going to explain to Hu Tao that the creatures she might have heard about have sex to enjoy it; you have sex to survive. The act itself still makes you squirm, so even if you have attempted to harvest energy in real life, you’d rather steer clear of resorting to that if you could still do the same thing in an unsuspecting man’s dreams.
But now, you aren’t even able to squeeze the tiniest ounce of sexual energy from your usual method. Hence, the problem.
“I’ll think about it,” you half-promise, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. “Oh, and if you see Mister Zhongli anywhere, could you tell him I’m done with my report? I was going to ask when he’d like to see it, but I haven’t seen him around lately.”
“Hm? Oh, right. I asked that guy to secure a deal with a Snezhnayan diplomat who’s visiting Liyue over the season,” Hu Tao tells you before hopping back to the floor. “Well, hope you get some sustenance soon, little devil. Wouldn’t want to find you all shrivelled up from sex deprivation one day.”
“Director, please…”
“Hahaha! Just teasing~”
Hu Tao hums a lively tune once she scampers away, and you’re left staring at the blinking cursor on your screen. The email you were drafting is supposed to be sent to the PR officer of the company you’re trying to scout with your report-slash-proposal attached as an extra file. But you can’t send it in without Zhongli’s green light. What’s worse is that it’s starting to get busy in the office at this time. The end of the year is the most hectic, and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to the hustle and bustle that comes with it. It would make sense why Zhongli is suddenly hard to catch.
And your feeding shortage just had to coincide with all of this.
You pull out a hand mirror from your bag, inspecting the way your face looks. Eyebags and chapped lips can easily be concealed with makeup but it’s more difficult to mask the way you’re abnormally losing weight. Even Hu Tao was able to notice it right away. If only eating human food actually contributed to your body mass…
“Tonight for sure,” you mutter – knowing damn well that your words are only worth half a promise.
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In all honesty, you don’t put much thought into the exact time of your feedings. You just lay in bed, get into the minds of your targets, and hope both of you fell asleep at the same time. It’s no different on your second attempt at harvesting energy from Zhongli.
You don’t call him, don’t text him. You don’t even bother trying to get some inside information about his sleeping habits from Ganyu. So when you attempt to just wing it one more time, you’re a little surprised to find yourself transported into the dreamscape – a wave of relief washing over you when you realize you’re not inside a cave anymore. 
You’re seated at the side of a river surrounded by ruins as far as the eye can see. The sound of flowing water fills your ears, a sound you almost find calming. Someone calls a name that doesn't belong to you, but your body responds to it either way when you turn your head around curiously. 
Zhongli stands in front of you, carrying a basket of sunsettias. He doesn’t look as intimidating as the first time you saw him in his dreams, but he’s donned with the same hooded robe, and the same gold-tipped antlers. The cruelty imbued in his gaze in that cavern has long gone – replaced with quiet sincerity that’s reminiscent of the one he exudes in the office. You feel your shoulders relax at the sight of him, but… 
Something doesn’t feel right.
He folds his legs at your side, and when he speaks, you hear nothing but a garbled, faraway noise. But despite not understanding a single word he says, you let out the occasional laugh, sometimes nodding along to Zhongli’s words before biting into one of the fruits he foraged. The wind whistles through the reeds in the overrun marsh, and all you can do is admire your companion’s autumn vesper eyes as you partake in a conversation only he understands. 
But when you suddenly inch closer to him – caressing his face with a hand that isn’t your own – that’s when you finally realize what was amiss.
“Rex,” the woman whose body you hijacked murmurs fondly, the sleeves of her dress billowing in the breeze. “You should give yourself more credit. The faith of the people has always been well-founded.”
Zhongli gazes at you (at her) with wide eyes before the look melts into a fit of chuckles. His lips move in response to what the woman said and, still, you don’t catch any of it. But when your eyes drift to where his strong arms peeked from the holes of his robe, you’re surprised to see his hands shining like molten amber in the waning light. Golden veins can be seen jutting across his forearms, eventually connecting to the odd patterns depicted on his bicep. The longer you stare, the more you question why your boss made himself look so godly in his dreams. As humble as he is, he does look highly of himself after all.
Turns out, you’re not the only one who was ogling Zhongli in the most inopportune moment. It seems like the woman you’re possessing(?) also treated herself to some eye candy the same time you did, and now you can feel your face heat up with embarrassment when he catches you staring. 
You expect him to laugh it off like usual. Your boss gets thrown compliments everyday since he started working at Wangsheng – compliments that never seem to do him enough justice. But he takes them all in stride before resuming the conversation like nothing happened. This Zhongli does none of that.
One of his strange, golden hands seizes your wrist tightly – your bashfulness suddenly morphing into confusion. Zhongli’s mouth twitches into something akin to a smile as he presses forward, forcing you to lean back to introduce as much space between you as possible. You can feel his breath fan against your face – cor lapis eyes glowing with desire – and you’re too stunned to retaliate. His other hand forces itself against the ground next to your hip, caging you in the heat of his embrace. Zhongli speaks again, and you’re starting to feel annoyed with the fact that you can’t make sense of what he’s even saying. But you can’t exactly relish in the feeling much because your body is reaching a fever pitch that’s making your head spin.
This is what you came here to do, isn’t it? Sure, you’re not really the person he’s seeing right now, but anything to get the deed done, right? All you had to do was suck out the sexual energy emanating from the god of a man that’s about to ravish you out in the open. Easy as pie.
His mouth latches onto yours in a way that’s almost familiar – which tells you that this isn’t the first time that Zhongli and this woman met each other so intimately. You respond in kind, letting your borrowed body take the reins as you feel him nudging apart the lapels of your dress, exposing supple breasts to the humid air. A full shudder runs across your skin when he growls against your lips, one arm curling around your waist before Zhongli possessively pulls you to his chest. 
Mine. 
You don’t hear his voice, but you feel the intent resonate all the way to your core as he practically tears off your clothes. Zhongli rests you atop the grass with little care for possible on-lookers, rolling his hips against yours as he decorates your neck with lovebites. Your fingers rake through his long, dark tresses – imprinting the image in your head for years to come. Your boss Zhongli always ties his hair with a jewel-encrusted band, so this version is definitely one for the books. 
I should’ve done this sooner, you think to yourself – whimpering when you feel the ridge of his cock straining against your middle. Much sooner… 
The rest of the details are lost in the muddled haze of your thoughts. You don’t remember if Zhongli even prepared you for what’s to come – all you know is the feel of his length prodding your slickened entrance. His grip on your body never falters even as the tip of his cock glides teasingly across your slit. You desperately move your hips closer, begging for the friction he’s holding over your head like a prize. But then, you meet his deep, amber gaze and for a moment, his eyes seem to soften in the midst of his lustful display.
When he kisses you again, your heart – this woman’s heart – comes alive. You can feel how much love she harbors, how she aches for him despite the fact that Zhongli’s hands roam around her body with the intent to leave no inch of skin untouched. 
I love you. That’s the only thought that echoes in your mind when he finally takes you – here, by the riverbank where you were the only two people in the world. These emotions aren’t your own, but you feel a surge so intense that you gasp aloud when Zhongli presses himself into you deep enough to make your vision blur. It all feels so real that you don’t even notice it when you naturally absorb the energy you’re meant to take in the first place. 
You’re not sure how it’s supposed to work in this situation, given that the body you’re using isn’t even yours. But you practically feel how Zhongli’s libido indirectly rejuvenates your spirits. Despite the fact that you’re being pounded in the middle of nowhere, you feel more refreshed – mind clearer as opposed to the jumbled mess it’s been over the past week. You never actually realize how your hunger can drive you into so much lethargy until you’re finally given the clarity of your sated instincts. 
“I don’t care for the humans like you do.”
You startle when you finally hear Zhongli’s familiar voice – hoarse with need, but still the same one you’ve come to admire. His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts his hips relentlessly, with a desperation you can almost see on his face. The woman lets out a sigh before she caresses his face with a gentle hand, thumb gently sweeping across the cut of his cheekbone. 
“You will,” she murmurs. “You’re their god, Rex. Their archon. You might not have any love for them now, but in time, you’ll understand.”
Her reply seems to irritate him. You watch as those golden eyes flash yellow with rage, but Zhongli is quick to manage the split-second shift in his emotions. Instead of lashing out, he buries his face into your neck, murmuring so softly, you almost didn’t catch the words.
“You’re the only one I’ll truly care for,” he says, fingers raking through your hair as he stills – filling you with the white hot rush of his release.
“I hope you know that will never change, Guizhong.”
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There are two things that you end up mulling over when you finally get back to your own body. The first is the fact that Zhongli has way too hyperactive an imagination. About ninety-five percent of your feedings take place in your targets’ bedrooms, so having sex in the middle of a field is quite the new experience for you. The second is how your boss might actually have a girlfriend and you just…gleaned your monthly sustenance from him. Just like that. 
Your latter realization took you the fuck out. The moment you woke up, you marched into your kitchen, popped open whatever cans of beer you had inside the refrigerator, and decided to contemplate your actions for a long time. You typically don’t think about whether or not the person you’re feeding on has a significant other because…you’re not exactly committing adultery if it only takes place in their dreams, right? It isn’t supposed to be a big deal unless they try to make a move on you in real life. But thinking about how you unknowingly trespassed on an ultra hidden fantasy that Zhongli must’ve been having about his girlfriend introduces a spectrum of emotions that you’re too tired to sort out. Embarrassment, regret, shame. Those are just some of the things you’re feeling right now, and hopefully a six-pack is going to be enough to drown your not-so sorrows.
…On the bright side, at least you don’t feel like shit anymore. As you finish your third can of beer tonight, you make the effort to take a look at yourself in the mirror. The color in your cheeks has returned, as well as the so-called flab that Hu Tao misses so much. Those dark circles beneath your eyes have gone too, and admittedly, you haven’t seen your skin glow so much since your last successful feeding two months prior. 
But even if this is a cause for celebration – because finally, you won’t have to deal with those nasty hunger pangs again for at least another month – you can’t find it in you to be pleased with your results. 
You’re still a bit…conflicted with what you saw in Zhongli’s dream. You assumed it was just some weird fictional fantasy of his, but you’ve been inside the dreams of other men often enough to know that your boss’ dreamscape is a lot different from the rest. You’re yet to put a finger on the rhyme and reason behind your logic, but the experience filled you with the kind of curiosity that’ll get you in trouble one of these days.
“No more prying into your boss’ private life,” you say, pointing at your reflection in the mirror with a frown. “You are not a homewrecker. Got that?”
Now that you’ve recovered from being “under the weather”, all that’s left is to get your work quota over with before the year ends. You’re practically brimming with ideas now that you’re finally in the right headspace to brainstorm about the project that Zhongli entrusted you with. As you pop open your fourth beer alongside your laptop, you’re quite horrified to see the mess of a proposal that you worked on during the onslaught of your physiological suffering. Dear gods, you’re never going to deprive yourself like that again. It’s a good thing you waited for Zhongli’s approval first or else, you might’ve made a fool out of yourself to your clients.
When you finally finish proofreading and making all the appropriate edits, you hop into the shower for a nice, hot bath. And when you crawl underneath the covers, the smooth glide of your sheets feels like heaven against your skin. But regardless of how comfortable you are in your own bed; how relaxed you feel for the first time in weeks, you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep as easily as you’d like. 
Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is a man with molten gold irises and branches sprouting from his rich brown hair. You can even remember the smidge of red decorating the fine line of his lashes if you recalled the dream vividly enough. But the moment you start thinking about how he spread you apart and had his way with you –
I’m fucked, you realize as you wrench your eyes open – staring at the ceiling as if it’ll show you even an ounce of sympathy. I am so fucked.
Little did you know that ‘fucked’ is the understatement of the century.
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“Ganyu, can I ask you something?”
The next day, you coincidentally find yourself sharing a table with Zhongli’s secretary during your lunch break. Ganyu looks up from the salad she’s been happily feasting on and flashes you a questioning look. “Of course. How can I help, miss?”
You pause for a while – deliberating whether it’s even worth looking into at the last minute – but you’ve already bothered Ganyu so… 
“Do you know a woman named Guizhong?”
You’re purposely avoiding her gaze when you bring up the question, casually sticking your fork into the food you ordered at the office cafeteria. But when you notice how Ganyu fell silent for too long, you flick your gaze back to her in the most casual way you can manage. To your surprise, she’s staring at you like you just insulted your family.
“H-How did you hear of that name?”
Brows raised, you offer a nonchalant shrug. “Hmm… I was looking through some old company records and found that name listed in the contacts. I just thought you might know who she is.”
You’re not even sure Ganyu is even going to take the bait for that white lie. There is absolutely no one who knows Wangsheng’s documents better than she does. This woman used to work under the Liyue Qixing, so it’s only natural for her to be meticulous in every aspect of her duties. But instead of laying suspicion on you like you expected her to do, Ganyu seemingly heaves a relieved sigh. 
“Well, yes. Miss Guizhong was one of the company’s contacts, but…” She bites her lip, fingers drumming nervously on her thigh. “Please refrain from mentioning that name to Mister Zhongli. As for the reason, it’s…quite complicated. I hope you understand why I can’t disclose any further, miss.”
…So Guizhong is a real person. A real person that Zhongli cares about deeply. But from the way Ganyu responded to your question, things might’ve gone awry between them at some point. 
Why do you feel…relieved all of a sudden? 
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you promise – this time, you mean it. “I was just a bit curious.”
The secretary nods. “Mister Zhongli should be coming back today as scheduled. I’ve already gone over your proposal like you asked, and I don’t see any flaws in your plans, miss. I’m certain he’ll approve of it.”
Way to shift the topic of conversation. You might’ve applauded her for how smoothly she made that transition, but Ganyu just indirectly reminded you to keep your head in place. There’s still work to do, and you shouldn’t spend what little time you have fretting about your boss’ not-girlfriend. 
“Copy that,” you tell her, finishing the rest of your food with a newfound resolve.
When Zhongli finally arrives back at the office, you make sure to act like you usually do – timid yet just a touch daring when needed. You presented your proposal to Zhongli and the board of directors, since your boss insisted that they’re entitled to study its contents last minute. The idea of having an on-the-spot address makes you queasier than the moments leading up to your monthly feeding. But the entire time, the expectant stares of your other superiors didn’t faze you as much. All you can really focus on, aside from the important points you’ve outlined, are the vibrant gold of Zhongli’s eyes – peering from the nearest seat in the front in silent observation.
He looks so composed, like a slab of unmovable stone. You find it quite difficult to believe that your boss and the man who shows up in his dreams – the one with unruly hair and golden ichor horns – are the same person.
Once you’re finished speaking, the board begins to ask questions one by one – clarifying some things they wanted you to expound on. Thankfully, you’ve gone over your report multiple times before coming into the office this morning. Whatever inquiry they could throw at you, you justified with answers based on the sufficient data you’ve gathered over the past two weeks. You have to admit that being on the receiving end of their impressed stares is doing things to your ego, but what’s important is that your proposal has been pretty much approved. Nothing beats a sense of accomplishment, after all.
Zhongli is kind enough to escort you back to your cubicle, but you insist on dropping by the pantry first for a much-needed coffee break. You tell him that it’s alright if he doesn’t stick around if he has other matters to attend to, but it seems that your boss is going to take his time giving you his brunt of the praise.
“You did well. Far exceeded my expectations, even.” He smiles so radiantly that you can almost feel your chest twist with an unfamiliar feeling. “My apologies for suddenly disappearing all of a sudden. I was planning to help you work out the necessary details for this, but something else came up at the last minute. Though I know this all sounds like me making up petty reasons for my absence.”
You shake your head, taking a sip on your cup of instant coffee. “Not at all! Director Hu told me about your dealings with a Snezhnayan diplomat, so I figured that I needed to step up one way or another.”
Zhongli’s expression morphs into something unreadable before he reaches for one of the paper cups stashed away – filling it with cold water from the dispenser. “Is that what she’s told you all?” he sighs, taking a long gulp of his drink before setting the cup down on the table. “That child… I’m aware she has her way of running things in this company, but she needn’t lie about my whereabouts.”
…Lie? Wait, what exactly did Hu Tao –
“Since I forced you to spearhead such an important project alone, I might as well let you in on the truth,” he laughs softly, lips pressed into a small smile. “Would that make for sufficient compensation?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. “Um, you don’t have to if it’s a touchy subject, sir. I respect that we all have lives outside of work.”
“I insist,” Zhongli says, leaning against the wall without breaking eye contact. “It’s also a…means for me to ‘let out some steam’, as the director might’ve put it. But I won’t divulge anything you don’t wish to hear, of course.”
You take a moment to mull over his words. Is he saying that he wants to open up to you or something? Well…
“I don’t mind,” you reply, feeling the skin of your fingertips buzz underneath the heat of your cup. Anticipation –  that’s what you’re feeling. “You can tell me anything, sir. And I swear upon my end-of-year bonus that I won’t share it to a single soul.”
Your boss flashes you another smile, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m grateful for your promise of confidentiality. You truly are a worthwhile companion.”
“...As for the real reason behind my absence, no I did not meet with a non-existent envoy from Snezhnaya. I made a three-day trip to Guili Plains.” Zhongli speaks each word carefully, as if not wanting you to miss a beat. “You and the rest of the department aren’t familiar with such a tradition that I make sure to uphold every year, since I was just newly transferred. Ganyu, however, has known me long enough to know that I pay the cemetery there a visit during this season if time permits it.”
The break room is quiet, save for the ever-present hum of the water dispenser. You don’t know why, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that tells you you’re not going to like what he’s going to say next.
“When I was still pursuing my Bachelor’s, I had this…friend,” he continues, eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if reminiscing about a better time in his life. “A friend that I held closer to my heart than anyone else. We were supposed to build a company that could change the world together – a pipe dream that youths often pour their souls into when they think they can do anything and everything they desire.
“But one day, that friend fell ill all of a sudden. We both thought it was just a mild sickness, nothing so severe that we should fret about it.” He sighs, and you can see how his mild-mannered demeanor makes way for the sorrow that roots itself on his face. You’ve never seen Zhongli look so…downcast before. It makes you want to reach out and pull him into an embrace, but you know better than to overstep your boundaries. “I’m sure you know where this leads. Turns out, the disease wasn’t just an ordinary coughing fit. She was diagnosed with lung cancer and died of it faster than I could even complete my final semester in college.” 
“I-I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden – the shock on your face surfacing too suddenly for you to hide. “Oh, gods. You didn’t have to tell me this if it pains you to remember sir –”
“None of that,” Zhongli interjects, waving a hand in dismissal. “I chose to tell you this tale, didn’t I? Insisted, even. So you don’t need to worry about my grief, as this is something that I’ve long come to terms with.” 
Holy shit. Now you feel twice as terrible for feeling relieved that things between him and Guizhong have gone south. It’s all because she was dead. Great, now the fates are probably going to turn you into a lizard in your next life just to call it quits or something. But you don’t really have much room for those self-deprecating thoughts after everything Zhongli just told you.
“Guili Plains is quite far from here,” you comment, choosing your words carefully. “Did she live there? 
Zhongli hums. “Yes and no. The two of us lived together here in Liyue Harbor while we completed our studies, but she grew up in Guili. They’re no longer growing there today, but she used to tell me about how much she loved the glaze lilies that bloomed outside of her childhood home.”
…A ‘friend’ he used to live with. A ‘friend’ he held closer to his heart than anyone else. If there are awards for being the worst at masking hidden details, Zhongli is definitely raking everything in. Though you suppose now’s not the time to be nitpicking about your boss’ lack of subtlety. 
“How long has it been?” you ask. “If…you don’t mind me asking.”
“I think we’re both past the point of minding,” he chuckles, despite everything, and you can hardly believe it. “But…it’s been six years since she passed.”
Six years, and he still dreams of her.
You nod slowly before finishing the rest of your coffee – now cold with how long you took to drink it. 
“Thank you for sharing all this to me, sir. I–I…don’t know what to say,” you admit. 
“Nor do I expect you to say anything at all,” he tells you. “Just having an ear to listen to my…troubles is worth more than all the mora in this company combined. It’s quite rare for me to find anyone willing to hear me out.”
You wonder if it’s because of Zhongli’s picture perfect image that no one would stop to think that he experiences the same things everyone does. He grieves. He loves. He even lays himself vulnerable like this. Hell, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine Zhongli being anything but the unflawed superior everyone knows and adores if he never spoke about this at all. 
But he did. He trusted you enough to share a part of himself that he doesn’t just let anyone else know about. Whether it was just to repay your so-called stellar performance or something else, you’re grateful for his faith in you either way.
All of a sudden, you stride closer to Zhongli – the sound of you bumping against the side of the table at your urgency surprising him a bit. Before you can slip-up any further, you hold out your hand as you cast him a determined stare. 
“I’ll be looking forward to working on this project with you.”
Zhongli is at a loss for words for a while, those deep amber eyes alternating between your face and your outstretched hand. You wonder if he thinks you’re doing some sort of alien gesture. But in the end, your worries are dispelled the moment he shakes it gingerly.
“I feel the exact same way,” Zhongli says – in a much brighter tone now that the storm has passed. 
You just hope it will be a while before the clouds roll overhead once more.
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The days pass by before you know it.
Along with the end of the year comes the beginning of your newest project. Zhongli was kind enough to lay all the groundwork in your stead, and all you had to do was secure some due partnerships with other companies residing in Yujing Terrace. With just a bit more convincing, you might even get the Liyue Qixing to become one of the official sponsors for the event, especially with someone like Ganyu by your side. Rumor has it that she’s one of Lady Ningguang’s favorite secretaries, until Zhongli whisked her away. You just prayed that she won’t take your boss’ past history of secretary-nabbing personally. 
Your reputation has slowly picked up in your department as well. For the past two years, you were always careful about the connections you made because even if Hu Tao is privy to your unique constitution, you’ll be forced to switch locations if someone catches wind that you’re a succubus. You’re certain that the director could pull a few strings if something like that ever happened, but you never really liked relying on others too much – more so making them share your burdens.
At least, that’s how things were before Zhongli entrusted you with such an important task.
“There’s a drinking party somewhere at Chihu Rock – one of the newbies is treating,” Zhang, the desk neighbor you used to hate so much, informs you as he stuffs his laptop into his backpack. “The girls from accounting asked me to invite you, if you’re wondering.”
You cast him a surprised stare while you tidy up your own workspace, sparing a quiet laugh once you get ahold of yourself. “You guys aren’t bullying the new employees into footing the bill, are you?”
“Hey, if this is how they want to get in their seniors’ good graces, who am I to say no?” He shrugs, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “So, you coming or not?”
Now that you think about it, you don’t particularly have anything else to get done for this week. All the necessary preparations for the first leg of the event are in place, and your team members assured that they’ll give you a ring once something comes up. 
“Sure thing,” you tell Zhang with a smile. “There better be finger food.”
Company drinking parties aren’t as bad as you thought. They’re not mixers in disguise, like all the manga you’ve illegally downloaded off Inazuman websites suggested. You got to know your close colleagues, and some other people in departments that rarely come into contact with yours. The alcohol isn’t half bad either, especially when the lively newcomer Zhang told you about is going to make good on his promise. You’re not so stuck-up that you’ll deny free food and drinks once they’re offered.
To your dismay, you still aren’t used to drinking with a lot of people as company. Normally, you just grab a few packs of beer from the supermarket before consuming them in your lonesome at home. You realize a little too late that if you’re drinking out, you really shouldn’t be chugging glass after glass as if you’re the only person enjoying the liquor out here. 
After a few more pints, some of your co-workers have started to tap out – making you pout at them, red-faced and more pissy than usual. “What? You guys are going? And here I thought these drinking parties lasted until morning.”
Zhang shakes his head at your side, clinking his glass with yours before downing his drink. “Right? These guys have been hanging out with us for months, but they act like they can’t handle drinking on a work night.”
“Hmph, we all know why you’re insistent on staying behind tonight, Zhang,” one of the girls from accounting – Chen? Was that her name? – says, rolling her eyes as she hoists her handbag over her shoulder. “Just…take care of her, alright? Zhongli’s going to kick your ass if something happens.”
You’re still feeling a bit woozy from the beer, so you can only crane your head in confusion. What did she mean by take care of you? You can take care of yourself, thank you very –
“I will, I will,” Zhang chuckles, and suddenly, you feel a heavy arm drape itself across your shoulders – making you wrinkle your nose. “I never expected her to drink so much, but it’s a good thing that I’m here.” 
“I doubt that,” Chen scoffs. “Oh, well. See you guys tomorrow!”
Once the others make their leave, that’s when you start mumbling under your breath “Ugh. The first time I actually come along to these kinds of things and the people who invited me don’t even last until the end,” you complain, pressing your face against the wooden table in front of you. “Where’s the kid that said he was going to pay for everything? It’s just the two of us left…”
Zhang rubs your back in a way that isn’t really soothing the way your skin burns from the alcohol, but you’re a bit too intoxicated to tell him off. “Aww, don’t worry. Some of my pals helped the poor guy home, but he asked the bar to put everything on his tab before he passed out. So if you still want to have a go, I’m down.” 
You can feel something buzzing in your bag, but it’s probably just a text notification from your phone carrier. You’ve been receiving a lot of those lately. Maybe you should pay your bill soon. But your thoughts about phone bills are rudely interrupted by the feel of Zhang snaking an arm around your waist – pulling you upright as he steadies your shoulder with his free hand.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he says. “You’re going to feel like shit once you wake up from a drunk nap, you know.”
“Don’t care…” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you lose your grip on the handle of your glass. “‘M so sleepy. Can you get me a cab back home, Zhang…? Don’t think I can commute anymore.”
Zhang doesn’t respond right away, and you nearly doze off in that short bout of silence. But eventually, your desk neighbor helps you back to your feet and walks you out of the bar – exchanging farewells with the bartender on your way out.
The late evening breeze feels chilly against your legs, even through your stockings – yet that isn’t quite enough to make you snap out of your drowsiness. You end up leaning against Zhang for support as you wait for him to call a cab, all the while you screw your eyes shut – trying to stop your head from spinning. 
“You know… There’s a hotel nearby that we can just crash in for the night.”
You’re too far between consciousness and slumber to fully process what he just said. All you can do is press the side of your face against his shoulder as you attempt not to fall asleep on the spot. But, apparently, Zhang takes your lack of a response for confirmation – wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the direction of the hotel. You don’t really think of it much, since the desire to sleep is the only thing weighing on your mind right now. You’re just glad someone’s patient enough to guide you as you stumble around the sidewalk. 
Suddenly, though, Zhang’s strides come to a halt. 
Your mind vaguely registers the sound of him speaking to someone else. Huh. You could’ve sworn the others have already left. But their conversation lasts a bit longer than you anticipated, and you force yourself to listen in. 
“...Thank you for watching out for her all this time. I’ll take it from here.”
This voice…? Is that –
“U-Uh, sure, sir,” you can hear Zhang sputter beside you before you feel him shift your weight onto something – no, someone else. “I don’t really know where she lives so –”
You don’t really hear the rest of what Zhang has to say because you’re distracted by the person who just joined the fray. His clothes feel thick underneath your touch, like tailored fabric made from the most exquisite material, and they carry a familiar scent that reminds you of incense – one with a unique spice, just a touch archaic. You might’ve been too drunk to tell at the time, but if you had more strength than you did, you would’ve pushed Zhang away because his touch alone already didn’t feel right. With this person, though? You’d gladly lay in his arms for days. 
The last memory you have that night is the sensation of being gently ushered into the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car. A soothing voice speaks to you constantly, as if trying to keep you awake. But the gentle lull of his words do little to aid that particular cause, and when he slides into the driver’s seat next to you, you’re already out like a light.
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“Is anything the matter?”
You blink in non-plus, feeling like you’ve just woken up from a dream despite the fact that you’re sitting in a vast field of flowers. Wait a moment. 
Glancing at your side, you see the Zhongli’s humanoid counterpart – those draconian eyes of his scanning your face to see if something was wrong. In his hands is a bundle of pale blue flowers, clutched tightly between his clawed fingers, and you feel your shoulders sag. The idea that you unknowingly stepped into his dreams again as Guizhong incites a rush of guilt that you have all the reason to feel right now.
You don’t even remember planning on feeding tonight. Sure, it’s been a while since the first time you collected energy from your boss, but you’re not particularly in need of a refill right now. How did you even end up here in the first place?
Thankfully, Guizhong does all the talking while you accustom yourself to your unplanned invasion. “I just never thought you’d humor my request. You were never that fond of the glaze lilies.”
“This is where I met you all those years ago,” he reminds you. “Why would I ever loathe the thing that brought us together, my love?”
Silence envelops the two of you for a sliver of a moment, and you catch the scent of the ephemeral flowers even in the filtered reality of Zhongli’s dream. Guizhong lets out a peal of gentle laughter as she picks one of the lilies that grew in abundance – examining the unassuming bloom rather fondly.
“These flowers take the memories of the land and transform them into an unforgettable fragrance,” she murmurs. “When the war is over, do you think they’ll still carry the scent of our union, Rex?”
…War? There’s a war?
But in the end, you never get to hear Zhongli’s answer nor the proper explanation behind what Guizhong just said. When you open your eyes, it’s to an unfamiliar room that makes you bolt upright – eyes frantically darting around the vicinity while you try to recall what happened before you fell asleep.
Drinking party. Zhang being all touchy feely. Being taken care of by someone else.
You try not to think about the awful taste that lingers in your mouth as you try to figure out whose house you’re currently crashing. This obviously isn’t yours because you can’t afford the imported rug that’s tucked underneath the queen-sized bed. However, when your gaze lands on the dark-wood nightstand, you see a couple of glaze lilies sitting in an expensive-looking vase.
The next thing your barely sober mind takes note of is the presence of another person on the bed right next to you. Anticipation coils in your gut as you turn around slowly, and when you see Zhongli sleeping soundly a respectable distance away, you can’t help the way your heart throbs at the sight. He looks a bit more like the man in his dreams like this – dark hair pooled messily across his pillows. And you also notice that he’s still in the dress shirt he often wears to work, further suggesting that he might’ve fallen asleep while watching over you. The idea is enough to make your face flush with shame.
You spot your bag placed on top of a table at the other side of the room, so you quietly slip out of his bed before retrieving your phone inside. How did Zhongli even know where you were? Was he aware that you were out drinking with your colleagues? A single glance at your lock screen is all the answer you need because there, you bear witness to several unanswered calls and text messages from your boss himself. 
From where you stood, you cast the man in question a longing stare. He was kind enough to take care of you when you obviously couldn’t do that for yourself – even going as far as to let you sleep on the same bed as him. Zhongli is quite the busy man. Busy enough that he always turns down any and all invitations for drinks, yet he showed up outside the bar earlier tonight and just…took you back home with him? You don’t see any signs that he might’ve tried to take advantage of your inebriated state either – not that you believed that Zhongli is capable of such a thing. He was a proper gentleman through and through.
But…good intentions aside, you’re still at a loss for answers when you recall the dream you shared with him just now. This is the first time you found yourself inside a dreamscape without meaning to, and you’re unsure of whether or not this is a cause for alarm. What’s more is that his dreams always seem to take place in a world that’s wholly unfamiliar to you – a place where you take the form of his past lover without any real reason behind it.
Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you quickly type in a text message to Zhongli – thanking him for everything he’s done, along with an apology that you’ll probably repeat once you see him again in the office. Although you’re more conscious of his aberrant dreams than you imposing on his kindness. 
You tell yourself to just leave whatever you saw, whatever you heard there in his mind. There’s no reason for you to keep nosing in. You already got your fill, right? And you never feed on the same person twice – never.  
You just hope you can live by that personal rule of yours for as long as you can.
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News flash: you cave to your pesky, curious tendencies not two days since the incident.
Zhongli makes it terribly easy for you, too. Every night, by eleven P.M., your boss is already sound asleep – providing you with ample time to travel in-between dreams before reaching the one that perpetually occurs inside his head. 
The more you make these timely visits, the more you learn about the life that Zhongli – no, Rex Lapis – lives in this world. He’s someone that mortals call the God of Contracts. Someone who shows no mercy to anyone who dares break any sort of agreement that they willingly set in stone. He and Guizhong live in an era where the gods fight for the title of archon – a concept that you’re still having some trouble wrapping your head around. But in the most fundamental sense, Rex is someone equally respected and feared, and you can’t blame others for feeling that way.
When he speaks to people that aren’t Guizhong, he dons a stone-cold visage that still makes your blood run cold despite how many times you’ve seen it. It wasn’t a bluff when he said he didn’t care for the humans he and his lover watched over. All he wanted was to give Guizhong a place to live comfortably – and if that meant felling other gods just to attain that goal, he’ll gladly bloody his hands for it. 
But Guizhong, the God of Dust, was never that fond of Rex’s violent ways of doing things. 
She reminds him that humans are just as small and fragile as dust. They do not know when they’re bound to lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they live in fear. Because they live in fear, they try so hard to be much more than the small, fragile creatures that the gods have reduced them to. Guizhong is a god who’s more human than divine, and you suppose that’s something that Rex is yet to fully understand.
These are only some of the things you learned during your visits, and you can’t help but tune into every scenario that unfolds. Like a television series you can’t quite get enough of. However, you’re careful not to let the curious tale of Zhongli’s dreams hinder you in your waking life. 
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to remember any of the things that take place in his dreams. Whenever you run into him at work, Zhongli simply greets you with that trademark smile of his before discussing business as usual. No telltale signs of any sort of disturbance rooted from his slumber. 
At the office, you notice that you’ve become closer beyond measure as well – both as colleagues and, you daresay, friends. Along with the team you’re heading for the project, your boss is one of your constant support systems during such a hectic time in your career. 
Not only does he serve as something similar to your advisor, but he also keeps you company whenever you need to unwind.
During one of your late dinners, you share a glass of wine in his company as he shares some embarrassing work stories over the years. Zhongli is about three years your senior, so it makes sense for him to have more tales to tell. Nonetheless, you enjoy every minute of it, and in the back of your mind, you wonder when he’ll take you out like this again.
But when Zhongli drives you back to your apartment that night, he abruptly grabs hold of your wrist as you open the door to the passenger seat. You shoot him a startled look, but your boss’ alluring gaze doesn’t waver. You want to ask him what’s the matter, but before you can even get a single word out, he’s already pulling you close enough for a kiss.
You can’t process what was happening fast enough – simply sitting there in shock as you feel your superior’s mouth move against yours. When Zhongli doesn’t get so much as a reaction from you though, he pulls away with a troubled look on his face. 
“I apologize. Really, I do,” Zhongli says. “Perhaps I’ve had too much –”
This time, your senses finally kickstart into motion as you throw your arms around his neck before pulling him in again. You return his kiss in earnest, even going as far as licking the swell of his bottom lip to show you that you’re more eager for his affections than he initially assumed. And when you feel his strong arms circle around your waist in the same, possessive way he held you in the first dream, you all but moan into his mouth.
You’re not sure how things led up to this point, exactly. It’s true that you and him have grown more familiar with each other since the project’s launch, but you never would’ve imagined doing this with Zhongli in real life. You thought you were content with having sampled the more sensual side of him in your dreams, but as it turns out, Hu Tao was right.
Nothing beats the real thing.
“What does this mean?” you whisper in-between gasps, laughing a bit as Zhongli chases after your lips. He lets out a disgruntled noise when you pull away, and you feel the urgency in his touch when his hand rests against your cheek.
“It means I fancy you very much,” he tells you bluntly. “Though I admit, this might be too sudden. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or if you don’t wish to do these kinds of things with me. I just hope my admission doesn’t change our dynamic at work.”
…Is he being for real? Did Zhongli just assume that you didn’t feel the same way? 
“Everything happens all in due time,” you tell him with a smile, brushing away some of his bangs as you take the time to admire the man before you. “And who said I wasn’t at all interested, sir?”
Zhongli sighs, dipping his head closer to press a fleeting kiss on your forehead. The sensation sets your heart alight with glee, and you can’t help but lean closer to his touch.
“When it’s just the two of us, I’d prefer it if you called me by my first name,” he tells you as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Would that be alright?”
“Of course,” you breathe – placing your hand over the one he’s using to cup your face. “I’d love that.”
At that moment, you don’t think about how it’s been tough for you to find yourself a boyfriend over the last few years. How starting a relationship like this with Zhongli is going to give you more problems than you bargained for. All that matters is the comforting warmth of his touch as the two of you bask in each other’s company in the privacy of his car. 
Nothing more, nothing less.
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Times where you attempt to contact people like yourself are few and far in between. You want little to do in the lifestyles of other succubi and incubi, but it’s a different case with Xingqiu.
You met him by chance in the most awkward way possible. One time, you decided that a college boy who once interned at Wangsheng was going to be your target of the month. But on the night you tried to harvest energy from him, someone else was already occupying the dream – doing the things you were supposed to do before you could even arrive.
Long story short, you ended up doing a little snooping around with your targets first before going in for the kill. You wouldn’t want to run into Xingqiu in the middle of a feeding again, after all.
“It’s been a while,” he comments as you slide into the seat across from him. Xingqiu closes the book he was reading and props an elbow on the table, resting his head against the curve of his palm. “I’m guessing this is really important if you came to me for help.”
“It is,” you sigh.
Your companion nods along and smiles. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. Make sure to order something first because I can tell this one’s going to take us a while.”
Wanmin Restaurant, the place he chose for your quick meeting, serves the best Black-Back Perch Stew you’ve ever tasted in your life. This makes it a whole lot easier to settle down and explain your situation to Xingqiu to the most minute details. He quietly eats his own food as you tell him about the dreams you experience inside Zhongli’s head. How it always takes place in the same setting. How the sequence of events seem to have a linear pattern to them – which is quite rare to encounter in a human’s dreams. You’ve never once felt any sense of order whenever you hopped into the minds of your targets, but it’s as if you’re witnessing something straight out of a film reel when it comes to your boss-turned-lover.
You suspect that Xingqiu has been an incubus long before you’ve even been born. In spite of his appearance, you can tell he holds more wisdom about your kind than one would expect. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when he quietly hums at the end of your story – an answer already prepared in advance.
“Memories,” he says simply. “You’re not just witnessing that man’s dreams – you’re watching his memories.” 
You frown. “But…that place is something that’s straight out of a fantasy novel. Gods and monsters? A world plunged into a war? How could Zhongli have memories of that?”
Xingqiu spares you a soft laugh. “How do creatures like us still exist in a world catered for humans and humans alone? There are many things that can’t be explained by pure logic. But I have a hunch that the owner of the memories you see is both your boyfriend and isn’t at the same time.”
“...I’m sorry?”
“Do you believe in past lives?” he asks. “Reincarnation, exactly. Do you believe that all of us have already lived once before?”
“Are you saying that the stuff I’m seeing in his dreams are memories of a past life?” you clarify, face twisting with confusion. “Xingqiu, isn’t that a bit…”
“Crazy? It is,” he chuckles. “But like I said, this world leaves a lot of things unexplained. Some details are meant to sound crazy so you wouldn’t think they’re actually possible.”
You toy with what’s left of your dish, the appetite you’ve built up suddenly dissipating at the idea that Xingqiu just proposed to you. So even in a past life, Zhongli adored Guizhong to the point that he’d tear both heaven and earth asunder all in her name. You wonder if the Zhongli in this world, the one you’re currently dating, loved Guizhong to the same degree as well. He probably did, and you probably wouldn’t compare to someone like her.
“Is it possible for past lives to have some…parallels to the ones we live now?” Your voice is quiet, almost as if you fear for the answer.
The incubus considers the question for a moment. “Well, yes. The saying ‘history repeats itself’ isn’t exactly true because history doesn’t repeat itself – sometimes, it just rhymes. Things that occurred in the past can occur again in the present, but they won’t always entail the same meaning.” 
You receive his words with a solemn nod, feeling your chest twist uncomfortably. Somehow, you don’t really like the sound of that.
“Thank you,” you tell Xingqiu when the two of you are done splitting the bill. “You seriously shed some light on a lot of things that were confusing me.”
“Don’t mention it,” he insists, tucking his book underneath his shoulder. For a moment, you think that this is where you part ways, but Xingqiu suddenly pauses – eyes narrowing as he leans closer to you. “When was the last time you fed?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden inquiry, but you manage an answer all the same. “Um, a while.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? You have a boyfriend that’s more than willing to help you, right?” He posits the question like he expected the answer to be yes, but when you shyly avert your gaze, Xingqiu’s smile falls almost immediately. “Oh, no. He doesn’t know what you are, does he?”
“It’s kind of hard to just go off on a tangent and say, ‘hey I’m actually a demon that receives my life force from dream sex’,” you point out, but know he’s right either way. “I…I do plan on telling him. Just not anytime soon. We’re kind of busy with a huge project at work, and I can’t really drop something like that out of nowhere.”
Xingqiu sighs, pinching his nose between his fingers. “But you’ve been spending a lot of time in his dreams anyways. Am I right? You seem to know an awful lot about his past life now that I think about it.”
…Of course Xingqiu’s going to be the one who catches you red-handed.
It’s really no secret that you still frequent Zhongli’s dreams, not to feed but to learn more about the life Rex lived alongside Guizhong. Since you started going out with your boss, the details became more descriptive with each visit. It’s as if you’re starting to assimilate yourself better in Guizhong’s body, and you could glean more insight about that strange, strange world with more certainty. Last night, she and Rex talked about how they plan on transferring the Guili Assembly to the harbor city, where they’ll be far from the evil gods that wish to kill them all.
“Well, whatever your circumstances are, you know what happens when you don’t feed,” Xingqiu reminds you almost grimly, not leaving any trace of his once cheerful façade. “Don’t downplay the effects of hunger. We’re already an endangered species as is.”
As you head home that day, you end up thinking about his warning more than you should. Everything Xingqiu said is in the right – you knew as much. You’ve had to suffer through the aftereffects only recently yourself, but...
You can take it. Just a bit more.
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The next day, Zhongli comes over to your apartment to prepare dinner for you. He’s been excited all week to serve you his signature bamboo shoot soup, but Xingqiu’s words haunt you for the entirety of the day. You try your best not to make your distress obvious to your boyfriend, but you’re gravely mistaken if you thought Zhongli wasn’t going to catch on.
“Is anything on your mind?” he asks softly, pressing his lips to your neck. You’re seated comfortably in his lap as the two of you lounge on the sofa. But even if this has become one of your favorite places to relax with him, you just can’t bring yourself to do so now.
“Just…work,” you sigh as you rest your head across his chest. 
The beat of his heart is steady like usual, reminding you that Zhongli is real and breathing right beside you. That he’s not just a product of your dreams, like your mind always leads you to believe.
“Somehow I don’t believe that.” You can almost hear him pout. “Was dinner not to your liking, perhaps?”
“No, it’s not that,” you insist. “I’m just…really tired is all.”
That’s not exactly a lie. You’re starting to feel the effects of your own self-deprivation with each passing day. And even if you already learned your lesson last time, your conscience can’t take the idea of feeding on another person when you have a boyfriend. To further add to your list of problems, even if you wanted to harness energy from Zhongli, the setting of his dreams is too convoluted for you to pick up the right momentum. 
Rex Lapis was working hard to defend the land that he and Guizhong dedicated their lives to protect. Even if you appeared as the woman he loved more than anything else in his dreams, you doubt you’ll be able to seduce him during such a crucial period in the war. 
So now, you’re stuck in a stalemate between your own stubbornness and physiological needs. You’re not even going to be surprised anymore if your body just suddenly gives out on you one of these days.
“Can I propose something that could take your mind off such trifling affairs?”
The room falls silent once he utters the words, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Was he suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? 
As far as intimacy goes, you haven’t really gone all the way with Zhongli. Apart from the occasional makeout sessions in the break room, in his office, and sometimes even his car, you never really sought for anything more than that. You’re well aware that Guizhong’s death is still fresh in his heart, and if he ever considered the possibility of sex, you’d want him to come to you in his own time. 
This is quite the opportune moment for it, too. You’re barely keeping up appearances now that your stockpile of sexual energy started to dwindle. But now that Zhongli was coming onto you, you suppose it won’t hurt to kill two birds with one stone. 
There’s something different in the air as he carries you to your bedroom – lips never straying too far from yours. Zhongli’s eyes are heavily lidded with want, a look you have a tough time imagining on him given the man’s saintlike patience. But as he carefully peels off your clothes, you can’t help but think how different he is from Rex. Where the God of Contracts is ferocious and impatient, Zhongli seems like he’s going to take all the time in the world to drown you in his love. 
“That tickles,” you mewl as his fingers trail across your inner thigh and you feel him smirk against the skin of your throat. 
“I know,” he says. “I quite enjoy seeing you squirm underneath my touch.”
“You’re mean…”
You can barely contain the gasp that resounds from your lips when you feel him tracing your slick entrance with the prod of his fingers. Zhongli murmurs the sweetest things against your lips, yet the things he’s doing between your thighs are anything but innocent. He keeps your knees apart, spreading you open for only him to see, and as he gazes at you from above, you clumsily tug off the tie that’s holding his beautiful hair in place.
Dark brown tresses cascade across the sides of his head. You stare up at the gorgeous man above you with a longing sigh.
When his long, thick digits sink into you, you silence your moans in the curve of his shoulder – teeth biting down at his flesh as Zhongli loosens you up. You feel his thumb occasionally catching on your clit, as if meaning to tease a momentary sensation of pleasure before denying you a few moments later. He’s cruel like that. Nonetheless, he watches you with quiet fascination as you practically grind yourself against his hand – feeling just how wet his fingers have gotten in the short time you were inside the room. The squelch of your cunt is a sound you would’ve been too embarrassed to hear, had you been with someone else. But with Zhongli, everything just seems so right.
“That’s it,” he goads you huskily, teeth grazing the side of your jaw. “Lose yourself for me, darling. Think of no one else but me.”
Darling? That’s new. But the new pet name only serves to push you over the edge – making your walls clench around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Zhongli claims your lips in another heated kiss, relentlessly plunging his digits into you despite the overstimulation. You beg him to stop, but the only sound that comes from your mouth is a broken moan of his name.
You’re nothing but a boneless pile on the bed when you finally come down from your high, breathing heavily as you attempt to reorient yourself to your surroundings. The sensation of Zhongli shifting above you registers a bit late in your mind, but your frayed nerves jolt back to life when you feel him rubbing the head of his cock across your glistening seam. 
“Too much,” you whimper. “Zhongli, i-it’s too much…”
He leans down to press a loving kiss on your mouth, one of his hands rubbing your hip soothingly. “Shhh, I know you can take me. Just like you always have.” 
…Wait, what?
You can’t even offer what he said another thought because Zhongli makes good on his words and slowly slips his length into you without much warning. A sob nearly tears its way out of your throat with how his thick cock stretches you to the brim, but your lover kisses away the tears before they even come. 
“You mean so much to me,” he murmurs, twining his hands with yours. “More than you could ever know.” 
That was a given. Having Zhongli as a boyfriend made you feel like you were important; you were loved. Though you haven’t been dating for all that long, he never once gave you a reason to doubt the sincerity of his feelings. So despite all the odd things you unknowingly witnessed in his dreams, you like to believe that he meant every word. 
His hips slap against yours unabated, pumping his length hard and fast enough to make you croon his name over and over. And even if he managed to exhibit some degree of patience a while ago, it takes little time for Zhongli to move past his courtesy and bite down on the skin of your throat hard enough to bruise. 
“Mine,” he growls. “I’ll never let you go, my love.”
You would’ve teased him for such a cheesy choice of words if you were under different circumstances. But the moment the new endearment falls from Zhongli’s lips, you go completely still underneath him. 
“Stop. Zhongli, please stop.”
To his credit, he listens just as told – gazing at you with a puzzled look as he takes his length out. Zhongli is concerned for a moment, because you’re staring at him as if he’s killed a man right in front of you. When he reaches out a hand to touch your face, intent on asking what was wrong, you instinctively slap it away.
“I…” Your voice fails you. After all, how on earth can you just tell him that you wanted to stop because that was the very same thing that Rex calls Guizhong in his dreams. You can’t help but think that Zhongli used to call the Guizhong of this world the same thing, too.
Sometimes, real life could coincide with what happens in the dreamscape. Inside his mind, Rex Lapis sees Guizhong, not you. And you’re more than inclined to believe that it’s the same case here with Zhongli.
You’re not the one he sees – it’s the dead woman that he’s never stopped loving these past six years.
You know you’re being obtuse. Your boss isn’t the kind of person who lets his past grievances interfere with his present relationships. But the anxiety you’ve accumulated since your meeting with Xingqiu had boiled over with the worst timing possible. 
Instead of talking it out, you roll over to your side of the bed – pulling the covers tight enough around your body so that he sees no inch of it. You know that what you’re doing is probably hurting Zhongli more than you think, but you shut out any hint of remorse that threatens to make you waver.
It doesn’t take long for him to settle on the spot right next to you. Zhongli doesn’t ask why you suddenly pushed him away, nor do you make an effort to explain. 
“I’m sorry.” 
His words ring sincerely enough, but it sounds like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. You don’t fault him for it. You’re still unsure why you even let yourself be consumed by your own doubts. Didn’t you just say you believed in Zhongli when he told you how much you mean to him?
You suppose this is where you fall short compared to Guizhong. The God of Dust put her faith in Rex Lapis despite his violent tendencies. She believes in him both as his follower and lover in equal measure. You, though? You’re already lucky enough to be dealing with a mellowed down version of the man in your dreams, but you still decide to take it for granted. Because…what? You’re insecure? You’re jealous of a woman who’s been dead for six years?
In the end, you decide that you’re too tired to think about it at the moment. Since you interrupted your own feeding session, your body wasn’t able to gain even an ounce of energy. You’re better off preserving what little you had left if you knew what was good for you.
(If Zhongli hears you choke on your own sobs later in the night, he says nothing of it in the morning.) 
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“Can you make a contract with me?”
Rex Lapis is cleaning the blood off his polearm when Guizhong’s voice cuts through the silence of the night. He stares at her hard, yet his gaze still carries a hint of fondness he’s reserved for her and her alone.
She purses her lips before continuing, “If I were to be infected by the miasma that’s tainting the guardian yakshas in the front lines, I want you to take my life.”
“No.” His answer is quick and precise, as if he’s already mulled it over several times before she even brought the matter to light. “If that happens, I’ll turn this world upside down just to find a cure that can save you.”
“Yet you can’t even do that for the children who devoted their lives to you?” 
He stills, feeling the jab of his lover’s accusation hit harder than he expected. It’s not that he doesn’t care for the adepti – he simply knows that it’s in their nature to be more tenacious than the rest of their soldiers. Rex Lapis is certain that they can resist the effects of the miasma on their own merit. Guizhong, however, is just as delicate as the dust she holds dominion over. He’d rather watch the world burn first than let her die either by his hand or the corruption induced by that pesky miasma.
But still, he respects all his lover’s thoughts and wishes. She isn’t the brains of their operation for nothing. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it half as far in this war as he did now.
“Very well,” Rex Lapis agrees, albeit reluctantly. “I will honor this contract until the day I die.”
Guizhong’s eyes soften at his decision, and when she smiles, he feels his stone cold heart thawing at the radiance that only she can ever exude.
“I know you will.” 
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“You’re doing it again, huh?”
Hu Tao ambles by your cubicle with that knowing tone of hers, arms crossed in a way that suggests you’re about to receive another thorough scolding. But you’re really not in the mood to be told off by someone who hasn’t lived in your shoes before, so you opt to ignore her. 
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she huffs, fingers pinching your face like she often does but you keep your eyes straight on the screen of your laptop. “Aren’t you and the consultant seeing each other lately? Is he not good in bed or something?”
Thankfully, the director has the decency to lower her voice when she speaks, making you heave another sigh before glancing at her warily. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Hmm… Let me guess. You’re doing something you’re not supposed to, aren’t you?”
Hu Tao’s perceptiveness is absolutely beyond you. You’ve always known that she’s quicker on the uptake than most people you’ve met in life, but it’s almost scary how she’s seemingly aware of your actions. You’re the succubus and she’s the human, but sometimes you feel like Hu Tao has more power over you than you initially assumed.
You try not to think about the more recent additions to your vignettes of Zhongli’s past memories. You can tell that the stakes of the war were growing higher and higher each time you visited his dreams. Could that be the influence of the current events in his life?
Ever since the night you pushed him away, you and Zhongli haven’t been on speaking terms. Sure, the two of you still conversed about details that need fine-tuning for your project, but beyond that, it’s complete radio silence. His good morning and good night texts have stopped, and he’s never once dropped by your apartment in that time frame; nor has he invited you over to his own. His distant behavior tears you up more than you realize, but you tell yourself that he has all the right to avoid you if he’s upset about what you did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Hu Tao. “Director, forgive me for being blunt, but I’d like to focus on this report now.”
Your superior sighs. You assume she’s going to concede early for a change, but the moment you think Hu Tao is already on her way, you feel her lean closer to your ear, whispering something that sends a chill down your spine.
“Don’t dive too deep into matters that don’t concern you. Don’t try to change things that have already been set in stone,” she says calmly, her fingers digging slightly into your shoulders. “If you lose sight of what’s really important, you might lose yourself in the process, too.”
When she lets go of you, Hu Tao continues humming that same, lively song she always sings – leaving you to deal with the guilt that grips your heart like a vice.
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About two weeks since Zhongli started giving you the silent treatment, you come to a sound conclusion.
He’s still thinking about Guizhong. Well, she was his first love – meaning, your boss isn’t exactly going to stop thinking of her anytime soon. But you thought about your conversation with Xingqiu several times over the last few days. You hypothesized that the reason why Zhongli was continuously dreaming about his memories of a past long gone is because his grief cuts even deeper than he let on. 
Though you have no means of making sure, you’re almost too certain that the reason Zhongli still thinks of her even if you’re right in front of him is because her memory is too painful to let go. He clings to it subconsciously, and that desperation manifests itself in his dreams – back to a lifetime where Guizhong still lives.
The things that happened in the past are bound to happen in the present; that’s what Xingqiu told you the last time. So if the Guizhong in this world has already passed on, it’s safe to assume that the one in his dreams is bound to face the same fate as well. 
But…you have the power to change that.
Even if it’s nothing but a memory now, what if you could alter the outcome? If Zhongli is left with memories of Guizhong that aren’t tained with sorrow, maybe he can finally move past it.
Maybe he can finally see you instead of her.
It’s a fool’s line of reasoning – you know that. This was going to be one of the most dangerous things you tried in anyone’s dreamscape. But you’re so catastrophically in love with Zhongli, that you’d give up anything just to ease his pain. 
You’re well aware that your body is deteriorating at an exponential pace. Not only are you expending a lot of energy to tinker with Zhongli’s memories, but you don’t even bother with feeding anymore. You tell yourself that you can do that later, once you manage to save Guizhong from her timely demise. 
Everything you can think of to keep her from dying, you made sure happened in the dream. You don’t let her walk out to the front lines to give orders like she usually does. You make sure to avoid all the guardian yakshas, who are already tainted with the corruption that craftier gods weaponized against Rex Lapis’ forces. And most of all, you don’t let her leave his sight longer than she needs to – because if there’s anyone you can rely on to keep Guizhong alive, it’s Zhongli himself.
Of course, you’re still doing splendidly in keeping your work life separate from everything else. Your project has officially come to a close, raking in more revenue for Wangsheng than anyone expected. 
Today, you’re scheduled to give a speech addressing everyone’s efforts in the company’s conference room – something that you’re a bit reluctant to do because you know Zhongli is going to be there, too. The idea of him looking at you from the crowd with none of the adoration he used to give so freely is enough to make your stomach turn.
But still, you compose yourself. You’re no stranger to adversity, so seeing your boyfriend (can you even still call him that?) in a crowded room is the least of your problems. 
At least, that’s what you thought.
When Director Hu Tao calls you up to the platform, you're raring to go – practicing with deep breaths as you repeat the gist of your speech inside your head. You made sure to cake your face with a heavier layer of makeup this time around because the last thing you need is for her to pull you to the side and scold you for still refusing to feed. 
But the moment you get up from your seat, the world suddenly tilts to the side – your vision going black within seconds.
The last thing you remember is being whisked into a pair of strong arms. You want to curl your fingers in the fabric of his coat, to apologize a million times over, but the familiar scent of his clothes is enough to put you straight to sleep. 
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“Goodness, miss. You had us terrified back there.”
Ganyu is sitting by your bed in the infirmary when you regain consciousness, wiping the tears off her face with a dainty handkerchief. You mumble a half-hearted apology, but immediately seize up when you see Zhongli leaning against the wall in front of you. 
“The nurse told us she suspected that you might have an eating disorder,” the secretary continues, rubbing your hand comfortingly. “It did seem like you were pushing yourself harder than usual during the last few weeks. You should really take care of yourself more.”
An eating disorder…? Well, if depriving yourself of your required sustenance can be translated into a human affliction, you suppose that was the most obvious counterpart. Still, you’re still feeling a bit too groggy for conversation, so instead of addressing Ganyu’s plight, you sink further into the mattress.
You can feel his gaze on your pitiful form – those eyes of endless gold. But you’re too much of a coward to face him when you’ve been reduced into such a state.
A little while later, you hear the door to the infirmary swing open. Is it odd that you can tell that the newcomer is Hu Tao based on the sound of her footsteps alone?
“Leave us,” she says sternly – addressing both Ganyu and Zhongli at the same time. “There’s something I need to discuss with her.”
You half-expect Zhongli to complain, or at least contest the director’s orders. But your heart sinks when he resigns himself to what he’s told, quietly ushering himself and his secretary out of the room.
Hu Tao waits for about two more minutes before speaking again.
“You better feed now or you’re going to die for real.”
“...But –”
“I can’t have you dying on my watch just because you’re being stubborn about it,” Hu Tao nearly snaps – eyes alight with rage. “Feed now. I don’t care who it is, just do it. I won’t let you out of this place until you’ve gotten better.”
To say that you’re terrified is putting it lightly. You’ve never seen Hu Tao get angry before, but the absolute urgency in her gaze – practically begging you to please just save yourself – makes you consider her request. 
“Okay,” you say quietly, only surrendering because you can’t save Guizhong if you’re dead. “See you in a bit.”
‘A bit’ is a lie that you didn’t really mean to tell. When you entered the crossroads of the dreamscape, you didn’t bother picking targets anymore. You slipped into the dream of a man who’s probably in his thirties, intent on just getting him off, sucking out some energy for yourself before making your leave. 
But no matter how many times you attempt to drive him to an orgasm, you don’t feel yourself getting any better. The energy that always emanates out of a man post-coitus is nowhere to be found. 
You switch targets faster than you can even blink. This time, it’s a boy that’s probably fresh out of high school, and you feel a bit horrible for having to trespass like this. But instead of fretting about common decency in a goddamn dream , you make him come about two consecutive times before realizing that –
This isn’t working, you mutter to yourself. Why the hell isn’t it working?
You’ve always had a hard time harnessing energy from strangers, yes. However, those instances granted you at least a tiny ounce of energy that could stem the hunger for a while. Now, you’re getting absolutely nothing.
It seems that Hu Tao is already privy to your dilemma when you wake up in your own body. 
“I’m going to put him to sleep,” she decides with a vexed sigh. “Make sure you get enough energy to last you for an entire year, got that? No meddling with anything else.”
“W-Wait,” you croak out, and damn, you feel even weaker than before. “What do you mean you’re going to put him to sleep? Are you talking about Zhongli?”
“Who else could I be talking about, little devil?” The director rolls her eyes. “Now, I’m going to ask you to pretend I’m not about to do something illegal and just rest. The moment you fall asleep, get into Zhongli’s head and feed. Okay?”
You don’t even get a chance to respond to Hu Tao’s words because you’re already nodding. Your bones feel like lead, limbs feel like they’ll fall off any minute. If you stay conscious any longer, your eyes might just dry out. 
It doesn’t take five minutes for you to fall asleep again. And as you drift aimlessly in the depths of your subconscious, a part of you that’s still coherent anticipates that it might take a while before you find Zhongli’s dreamscape. You’re not sure how long ‘putting him to sleep’ is going to be, but surprisingly, your existence is abruptly transported to the familiar marshlands of Dihua. 
You chalk it up to how often you’ve been hopping into Zhongli’s dreams, but you immediately notice that something isn’t right. The skies have turned into an ashen gray color – columns of smoke rising in several locations at once. When you gaze around, all you see are the fallen bodies of both soldiers and monsters alike. 
Rex. You need to find Rex Lapis.
That’s your very first instinct once your consciousness fully pulls through, careful to step over the decaying corpses as you mutter a silent prayer for each one. But just when you thought you’re going to end up tripping on one of them, you watch in equal parts horror and confusion when you witness your leg pass through the carcass of a dead monster.
All it takes is a single glance down for you to know that you’re no longer inside Guizhong’s body. Instead, you drift around as an apparition of sorts – arms, legs, and torso appearing less saturated than usual. It’s like you’ve become a transparent cut-out, and you give yourself a minute to think about what the hell was going on. This has never happened in your previous feedings. You’ve always been able to maintain your form, despite the numerous instances you’ve hopped in between dreamscapes. 
In the distance, however, you find the answer to all of your questions.
You spot them amidst the debris left behind by the battle. Rex Lapis kneels at the side of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life – cradling her frail body in his arms as golden tears flowed forth from his eyes. It’s the first time he’s surrendered the unmovable visage you’ve gotten so used to seeing in this dream. Gone is the unfeeling, uncaring God of Contracts who felled his own enemies like it was as easy as breathing. In his place is a man who only wanted to live with the person he adored the most.
Guizhong’s pale skin is overrun by dark lacerations that look like black veins rooted into the surface. Her own eyes glisten with tears as she reaches up to cradle Zhongli’s face. She says something that you don’t hear over the wind howling in your ears, but you don’t let yourself remain stagnant for a second longer. 
You run straight to them with what little strength you can muster – intent on shaking Guizhong by the shoulders to scream, “No! This isn’t how things were supposed to be! You were supposed to live. I was supposed to save you!”
But none of these messages get across to either of the two. To them, you’re nothing but the breeze on their skin – violently whipping all around as the war only worsened. There aren’t any clear winners here, this is becoming clear to you. But as the God of Dust heaves her final breath, you hear Guizhong speak for the last time.
“Thank you… For honoring our contract,” she sighs, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth as she forces herself to smile. In her hand, she lifts up a stone dumbbell with a complicated structure – something you’ve never seen before despite all the time you spent in her body.
“This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you.” Guizhong hands it to him shakily, still careful despite being on death’s doorstep. “All my wisdom is contained inside. If you can unlock it –”
She never gets to finish the words. A loud clap of thunder booms across the marsh – deafening even when you don’t have the body in this dream to perceive the sensation. Zhongli makes a mistake of letting the noise distract him, because when he glances at Guizhong once more, the woman he loves has already crumbled in his arms. 
Once the dust settles over the war-torn battlefield, Rex Lapis rises back to his feet. You can see the weight of his grief in the way his golden hands tremble at his sides. But just as quickly as his lover’s passing, he summons his polearm back in his hands – thrusting the hilt into the ground hard enough to break through the barren soil. The God of Contracts lets out a monstrous shout – terror rooting itself into your being. The sound is fearsome. Inescapable. 
And with a single twist of his hand, the earth starts to shake beneath your feet.
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Xingqiu arrives at Hu Tao’s quarters faster than she anticipated, blue eyes startled to see the two bodies resting on top of her bed. The director pays his reaction no mind, though. Instead, she fills him in on the situation.
“I had my guards carry these two up here,” she explains, pointing a finger interchangeably at you and Zhongli. “That guy, I drugged to put him to sleep so she can get inside his dreams for sustenance. But it’s been about three hours, and neither of them are waking up.”
“What? She still hasn’t fed?” The incubus asks incredulously. “It’s been almost a month since I last saw her. Back then, she was already starving. Don’t tell me she’s been holding out all this time.”
“You’d be surprised at the lengths that stubbornness can take a person,” Hu Tao chuckles, leaning back into her seat as she twists some of the rings on her fingers. 
Xingqiu lets out a long, exasperated exhale as he sits by the bed – watching you and your so-called boyfriend doze soundly next to the other. But your deathly pale complexion doesn’t escape his notice. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed you were dead.
“While I am very concerned about my friend’s destructive behavior,” he begins, casting a sidelong glance at the Wangsheng director. “I’m more curious about why you’re helping them in the first place. It’s not like you to meddle in things that are none of your business to begin with. And yet…”
Hu Tao sighs. She’s been hanging around this demon boy from the Guhua clan for too long. He can already discern what’s normal and unusual for her behavior, and she isn’t really a fan of being perceived like that.
But unwittingly, his words got her thinking.
“Remember how you pulled me out of the in-between when I tried to reach out to Grandfather in the afterlife? I nearly died because of it,” she sighs, remembering her past experiences with meddling none-too-fondly. “I can’t just stand here and watch my subordinate slowly kill herself the same way when I know someone who can help.”
Xingqiu sighs again. “Director, I’m an incubus, not a miracle worker. Us crossing paths at the in-between was nothing but a coincidence… But then again, that’s the same way I met her back then, too.” He casts your ghastly form a wistful glance. If he’d known that divulging information about your lover’s past memories would lead to this, he never would’ve said a word. 
“I need you to fetch both of them before they get trapped in their own dreams. I’ll fork over whatever amount you like,” Hu Tao proposes, her usually playful demeanor now replaced by something more grim. “Just – please. Save them.”
“...That’s a really tall order, you know?” The incubus shakes his head in disbelief. “The in-between is the last place I’d want to hang around, but this woman is my friend, too. You don’t have to cough up any –”
To both their surprise (and relief), Zhongli seizes up on the bed, sitting upright as he gasps for breath. Hu Tao uncharacteristically scrambles to hand him a glass of water, which he empties in the span of five seconds. But even if the sight of your boyfriend rousing himself from the dream is a good thing, Xingqiu notices how you’re yet to follow suit.
It seems that Zhongli followed his line of sight as well, and both him and Hu Tao can practically hear the sound of his heart plummeting straight to his stomach at the sight of you. 
“No,” he murmurs, a shaky hand reaching up to caress your face. “Not again…”
Again?
“Xingqiu, change of plans,” Hu Tao calls out softly as she meets his eyes. She doesn’t even need to elaborate further for him to understand. 
“What plan are you talking about?” Zhongli interrupts with a hard frown. “What did you do to her?”
“Oi, consultant. Don’t go accusing the people that are trying to help,” Hu Tao snarks, shooting him a dirty look. “We’re running out of time, so I’m going to give you the abridged version. Your girlfriend? She’s trapped in some place called the in-between. It’s the space that separates dreams from reality; the afterlife from the human realm.”
“But if she’s really trapped in your dream, she should’ve woken up at the same time you did,” Xingqiu adds. “That’s why I’m assuming she wandered too far and got herself stranded in your memories instead.”
“...My memories?” 
The director nods. “Yup. And unless she finds the key in her own subconscious and escapes on her own or someone else enters the same dreamscape and helps her…”
“She’ll be trapped in there forever.”
Both director and incubus stare at the poor man expectantly, wondering how he’ll take the information they just dumped on him. Xingqiu wouldn’t be surprised to see him call them a bunch of lunatics before contacting the authorities for the unsightly method Hu Tao employed just to get him to sleep. But Zhongli is strangely composed, nodding once, twice before turning to his half-dead lover.
“Tell me what I need to do,” he says quietly. In turn, Xingqiu breathes out another sigh in relief as Hu Tao claps her hands together gleefully.
“That’s the spirit, consultant!” The director beams. “Now let’s save your girlfriend, yeah?”
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You didn’t want any of this.
The sounds of a never-ending battle rages on outside – the impact of gods fighting to the death causing your temporary shelter to quake where you hide yourself away. The cave you took refuge in resembles the one you woke up in the first time you attempted to feed on Zhongli, but you don’t bother making comparisons. Not that it matters. You’re nothing but a ghost anyways – unable to go back from whence you came, and unable to go to the next place you’re supposed to be.
Still, you didn’t want to bear witness to Zhongli slaughtering hundreds in mere seconds. You’ve seen him fight before – he’s always fought valiantly in this war especially when Guizhong was by his side. But now that she’s gone, the God of Contracts is nothing but a husk of a man.
All that’s left is a bloodthirsty killing machine that intends to paint the land in the angry red of his grief.
Despite how hopeless your situation is, you can’t help but pray to whoever’s listening. You want them to remind Rex Lapis of the dream he once shared with Guizhong – to build a nation by the harbor, where no gods nor monsters can hope to harm the Guili Assembly. But as long as he continues his onslaught of carnage, that dream will never be realized.
Then, you think about the Zhongli that’s waiting for you back home.
Regret is the first emotion that occurs in your ephemeral form. You wish you could have apologized for that night – for assuming that he still isn’t over his dead ex-lover. For attempting to alter memories that aren’t truly his own for the sake of your own ego. 
For never saying how much you loved him before disappearing for good. 
If only you communicated with him normally like a proper girlfriend should. If only you didn’t assume the worst about him just because he once loved someone more than he loved you sometime ago. 
You’ve heard of incidents where succubi and incubi aren’t able to wake up from their feedings. It’s either they’re trapped in an unstable human’s dream or trapped in their own because of internal instability. You don’t know exactly how to classify your situation, but you suppose that the reason why you can’t wake yourself up is because of Guizhong.
She became your vessel in these memories during your first successful feeding. And since then, you’ve used her body to traverse the strange land that she and Rex Lapis supposedly hold dominion over. But regardless of how careful you were with Guizhong, she still died. There was nothing you could do to change something that was already set in stone, and instead you lost your way back to where you truly belonged.
For someone who claims to hate her own heritage as a succubus, this just goes to show how much you actually relied on your powers.
Gods. This fucking sucks.
You can only imagine how devastated Zhongli would feel to find your lifeless body in the real world – clutching you to his chest the same way Rex did with Guizhong. Two girlfriends dying on him in the span of six years. You wonder if he’ll ever love again.
…If Zhongli was in your place, he would have spoken to you the moment he felt uneasy about your past. He would’ve asked for some reassurance so he wouldn’t have to worry like this. 
He never would’ve tried to change you.
He would’ve told you that he trusted you.  
You miss him so much that it tears you from the inside out. If only you can see him again – see that beautiful smile again – you’d hold him tight and tell him a million times. 
You’d tell him you were a coward. That you were too afraid of splitting his affections with a woman who doesn’t even exist anymore. 
But…it’s too late for all that now, isn’t it? 
Helplessly, you pull up your barely-there knees to your chest, burying your face in between as you make yourself smaller. You want to cry yourself hoarse, but the tears never come. All you can do is sit alone in the darkness, where you can only dream of someone finding you in the middle of the chaos.
You’re too caught up in your own sorrow to discern the beam of light that splinters through the darkness. You don’t notice the man that steps into the in-between with you; don’t notice as he approaches. It’s only when you feel the familiar sensation of a large, comforting hand on your shoulder that you snap out of your misery.
“There you are,” Zhongli – your Zhongli – breathes out. 
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When you finally wake up, you feel like someone brought you back from the dead.
You can barely breathe without it feeling like the oxygen is ripping your lungs to shreds. But before you can asphyxiate yourself, a familiar figure hands you a glass of water, along with a handful of dried leaves. You glance up at Hu Tao in confusion as she stares at you nonchalantly. 
“You were in the in-between for gods-know how long,” the director reminds you. “Go chew on those to recover.”
“...I was what?”
“You were as good as dead.” The sound of Xingqiu’s familiar voice makes you jump, but the incubus simply turns the page on his novel from where he’s seated by the foot of the unfamiliar bed. “I’ve heard of succubi going a few weeks without food, but two months? Do you have a death wish?”
Your head is spinning from all the whiplash, and you actually take Hu Tao’s advice and drink some water before chewing on her magic leaves. But when you notice that there’s someone else occupying the mattress with you, your heart soars with relief.
“Hello,” Zhongli greets you.
“Hi,” you greet him back.
In your peripheral, you can see Hu Tao mouthing something you can’t decipher to Xingqiu – a message that your incubus friend is quick to pick up on before the two of them step out of the room to give you more privacy. Now that you noticed it, you were probably taken up to the director’s quarters at some point during your coma. Either way, once the door clicks shut, it’s just you and Zhongli – the first time you’ve been alone with him since that night in your apartment.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” you say nervously, unsure where you should even begin. But you suppose an apology is a good starting point. “I’m…sorry. For everything.”
Zhongli sighs, sitting up right to pull you in a tight hug. The abruptness of the gesture makes you drop the leaves on the bed, stunning you into complete silence.
“I thought I lost you,” he nearly chokes – a sound that you never would’ve imagined Zhongli making. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
The pure anguish in his voice makes your heart clench, and now that you have a body that actually lets you feel things, you’re finally given the familiar sensation of eyes stinging with tears. You return Zhongli’s embrace with equal fervor – letting yourself sob into the hollow of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you babble, chest seizing with tremors as you curl your fingers into his hair. “I never should’ve hidden the truth about me. I never should’ve meddled with the past. And… I never should’ve questioned the way you feel about me.”
You can feel Zhongli’s erratic pulse against your chest, and you find the fact that it’s possible for his heart to race a relief to know. When he pulls away, his cheeks are wet with tears – not the golden liquid that poured from Rex Lapis’ eyes, but the very same tears that you’re crying right this second.
This is your Zhongli. This is the man you fell in love with. 
You wonder why you even tried to change a past he experienced in a different life – knowing full well just how different he is from the God of Contracts.
“I love you,” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his. “Zhongli, I love you.” 
“And as I do you,” he breathes. “The director and the Guhua boy have already informed me of your…special circumstances, but I’d like to hear the tale of your escapades in my dreams some other time.”
You pause. “So you don’t want me to explain why I did everything I did?”
“Of course I do.” Zhongli shakes his head. “But…I was also told that you’ve been depriving yourself of sustenance for nearly two months now. As your lover, I’m inclined to help you out of your predicaments, yes?”
Oh. Oh.
“B-But we’re in the director’s room…” you tell him bashfully, feeling a surge of heat creep up your neck. “And I owe you a proper explanation for –”
He promptly shuts you up with a kiss. The nerve of this guy!
“Darling, will you allow me to make love to you?” he murmurs the words against your lips, already pulling you to his lap. “Properly this time.”
You know you should snap him out of it and insist that you’re fine. That you’ll last another day without sex if that means you can sufficiently explain yourself because Zhongli deserves as much. But you remember, at that moment, that you’re particularly weak when he starts to trail featherlight kisses along your neck. Zhongli knows this as well as you do, and you can feel him smile triumphantly when you let out a sigh in defeat. 
He doesn’t bother removing your clothes; practically tearing a hole into your pantyhose at his impatience. You balk at him for doing such a thing, but Zhongli promises to buy you another set once everything is settled. 
“Do you find it strange that I’m terribly aroused despite everything that happened?” he asks you, hauling his cock out of his unzipped trousers as he gives it a few pumps. 
“Not at all,” you respond in kind. “I’ve always thought you were hornier than you seemed. It’s always the prim and proper ones, you know?”
You bite your lip as you grind your clothed cunt against his hardening length, feeling your desire pool in between your thighs at the mere thought of him inside you. Zhongli bites down his laughter, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he spreads you open on his lap.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Nudging your underwear aside, you sink yourself onto his thick length with a blissful sigh – feeling his cockhead hitting all the right spots. Zhongli plants his palms firmly on your hips, barely able to contain the hunger in his eyes as he watches you bounce on top of his dick. Your skirt hikes further up your thighs with each downward plunge, and your lover cares to swallow your moans with an open-mouthed kiss.
You all but muffle a scream into his lips when you feel Zhongli thrusting his hips up to meet the cadence of your movements. Tears catch in the lines of your lashes from how good it feels, and you nearly come right then and there when he pulls away to whisper in your ear.
“I’m going to fill you to the brim,” he promises. “My seed will drip down your thighs from here on out so you’ll never forget where you belong.”
“By your side?” you whisper, purposely clenching your walls around his length to elicit a reaction.
Zhongli grunts in approval, much to your amusement. “By my side.” 
He switches things up at the last minute, flipping you over so that you’re lying down on the bed. You open your mouth to protest, but Zhongli is already pressing your knees against your thighs – plunging his cock into the velvet heat of your cunt as he hits it deeper than before. 
“I’d gladly fuck you everyday if that means you’ll never starve again,” your lover tells you with a growl, golden irises boring deep into your own. “Would you like that? Would you like me to sate your needs?”
“Yes,” you mewl as your fingers rake across his back. “Yes, yes yes! I only want you, Zhongli. Please –”
Your climax blindsides you out of nowhere, cunt squeezing around his cock impossibly tight. You screw your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as your body shudders and trembles from the force of it. Zhongli, however, is intent on taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t relent – just continues pounding you into the bed as he chases his own high.
“You’re the only one I love,” he tells you all of a sudden, momentarily pulling you out of your lustful haze. “You might not be the first, but you’ll certainly be the last.”
“Stop saying cheesy things while you’re fucking my brains out,” you moan. “You’re going to make me cry…”
“Heh, that’s the point.”
As promised, Zhongli finishes inside you with a shuddering sigh – and you feel the surge of his hot seed painting your insides. You’ve never felt so satisfied after having real sex with a real human, but when you’re actually in love with the person you’re sleeping with, you suppose there’s lots of room for exceptions.
“So why were you chasing ghosts that don’t even haunt me anymore?” 
You finish the rest of the water that Hu Tao offered earlier when Zhongli asks you the million-dollar question. Your heart twists with both guilt and apprehension, but you know that this is the best time to lay the truth on the table. 
“I was…bothered when you called me by the thing that Rex Lapis called Guizhong the goddess in your dreams,” you admit. “I thought you were thinking about Guizhong your ex while you were with me.”
Zhongli nods as he fixes his own clothes, an unreadable look settling on his face. “Rex Lapis…is the identity I had in a past life, isn’t it? And Guizhong was his lover.” 
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t explain why you tried to alter my memories, though,” he points out.
“Well, I thought if I could lessen the pain of your memories of Guizhong, you’d stop thinking about her and start thinking about me.” Gods, you sound like such a fucking brat. “That – That was really childish of me. I’m sorry. I even got the director and Xingqiu involved because of my own impulsiveness…”
“If you look at it that way then, yes. It is very childish of you. But I think that just goes to show how deeply you feel about me,” Zhongli suggests with a handsome smile, reaching out to hold your hand in his. “You want me to look at you, and only you?” 
“Of course I do,” you mumble. “You want me to do the same for you, right? I’m just trying to make things even…”
Your lover lets out another laugh, raising your hand to his lips as he places a soft kiss on your skin. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Zhongli’s show of affection.
“Guizhong…is a person who’s near and dear to me even now,” he says, going off a tangent as he rubs comforting circles into your wrist. “But do you know the last thing she told me before she passed?” 
You shake your head. “What?”
“That I shouldn’t chain myself to the past, no matter how painful it is to carry on,” Zhongli continues. “My life here is much simpler than the life Rex Lapis lived. I have no idea what you saw in my – rather, his memories to make you assume that the same applies for me. But I assure you that I’m not a man who’ll punish himself by constantly mulling over what-ifs and could-have-beens.
“All that matters is the present, and what I choose to do now, while you’re still by my side.”
…Damn it. You’re feeling the waterworks again.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you whisper, squeezing his hand just to make sure he was real.
“That, I’m afraid I can’t answer,” he chuckles. “But, on the topic of your immeasurable love, the Guhua boy imparted another interesting piece of information before lending me his powers to save you.”
“...Wait, I’ve been wondering how you got inside the in-between,” you tell him. “So it was Xingqiu? How the hell did he do that?”
“Darling, please refrain from asking questions I don’t have answers to.”
“Fine, fine. What did he say that was so interesting then?”
Zhongli laughs, and something about the shift in his tone makes you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Director Hu said you tried to harvest energy from other men while you were on the brink of death but it didn’t work. Xingqiu informed us that when your kind starts to feel strongly about a certain human, you won’t be able to harness energy anywhere else apart from that person.”
“...Why do I feel like you’re just gloating now?”
“That’s because I am.”
The sound of the door sliding abruptly catches your attention. Hu Tao emerges from the entrance as she claps her hands loudly. “Alright, that’s enough lovey-dovey chit-chat. I’m going to have the maids launder my sheets first before I sleep in them tonight!”
Your face flushes with embarrassment. “Director Hu Tao, I –”
“Aiya! No apologies. It’s all good,” she insists. “But hey, consultaaant~ Now that I let you and your girlfriend have reunion sex in my quarters, you’re not going to press any charges for assault, will you?”
“Wait, what charges?” Your gaze darts between the two of them curiously.
Zhongli drags a palm over his face, as if having just realized something terrible. “In order to help you get into my dreams, the director laced my tea with a potent drug. I was unconscious for quite some time. But I won’t press any charges, since I have little patience for the tedium of the Liyue Police Station.”
“Aww, you’re the best!” Hu Tao gushes before turning to you. “By the way, Xingqiu already went ahead, but he asked me to give you this.” 
You blink as Hu Tao hands you a sleek black business card with the words “Dr. Paimon” printed with embossed lettering. Zhongli peers over your shoulder, examining the card with the same degree of curiosity.
“He didn’t really elaborate, but rumor has it, that person can turn you into a normal human,” the director explains, smiling with intent. “I figured that since you’re probably gonna want to spend the rest of your life with the old man, you’d want to give up your immortality.”
Immortality… A staple that comes with being a succubus. It’s one of the most fundamental reasons why your kind fed on sexual energy in the first place, yet you never stopped to think of your future if you stayed immortal, while Zhongli continues to age with the passage of time. 
You won’t be able to start a family with him; have his children; grow old with him. Because that’s the fate that your kind has long been cursed with since they first walked the earth. But now, you’re given a way out – even if it sounds too good to be true.
You’re afraid to look at Zhongli. You feel like you should accept the offer, but everything that transpired today is just so overwhelming that you’re not sure if you can make the right choice…
But as always, he’s here to support you.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he reminds. “We still have work tomorrow, so I suggest we head home and rest first. I’m sure that can wait.”
…Being thrust back into the nightmare that is the Liyuen corporate ladder after nearly dying in the in-between. Way to maintain a sense of normalcy, Zhongli. 
Well, ‘normal’ is the best thing that the universe can give to you right now. Too bad you’re not selfless enough to deny the one thing you’ve been craving after all this time.
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“Miss? Here’s the tea you asked for.”
Ganyu’s voice flits through your ears like a calming breeze. She places your drink on your desk – just behind a plaque that reads Wangsheng Corporation - Consultant. The scent of freshly brewed qingxin petals wafts to your nose and you feel every nerve ending in your body relax at the more aroma.
“Thank you,” you tell her kindly. “You’re right. This tea really does work miracles.”
Your secretary hides a giggle behind her hand. “Both Lady Ningguang and Mister Zhongli became fond of it when I started working for them. I figured it would be the same with you.”
The golden band on your finger seems to glint in the sunlight streaming into your office as you take a few sips. You used to think that tea was nothing but leaf water, but if you have someone like Zhongli for a husband, you’re bound to start appreciating the finer things in life – Ganyu’s herbal remedy included.
“Oh, that reminds me,” she perks up. “Is the director coming back soon? I heard that four months is already a good time to check for the gender.”
You’re a bit surprised by her words, but Ganyu has always exhibited her excitement for the budding life in your womb the moment you made the announcement a few months back. 
“Zhongli’s secretary told me he should be home by the end of the week,” you tell her kindly, free hand instinctively going to the slight swell of your belly. “Once we figure out whether it’s a boy or a girl, I promise you’re the first person we’ll inform.”
She gasps. “You really mean that, miss?”
“Why not? You’re the godmother after all~”
Once Ganyu recovers from the initial shock from being assigned as your child’s godmother, you’re left to your lonesome once more. 
It’s been six months since Hu Tao stepped down as the director for Wangsheng Corporation – passing the title onto Zhongli – and six months since you’ve held office as the company’s new consultant. At times, you still find it strange, how you’re the one giving advice with regards to your husband’s dealings with other businesses. But you remind yourself that everything happens all in due time. 
Your old life as a succubus is way behind you now, but there are moments where you still think of what happened to Rex Lapis after Guizhong’s death. Did he get killed by the other gods? Did he lead the Guili Assembly to the harbor? What happened to the stone dumbbell Guizhong gave to him? You’ll never know now that you’ve lost the ability to travel through dreams. 
But in the back of your head, you hoped he was able to find some sort of deliverance from the pain induced by his lover’s passing.
In the midst of your contemplation, your phone buzzes with a text – one that you’re quick to open.
Zhongli [10:54]: I’m boarding the plane at Fontaine National Airport right now. Should be back by tonight :)
Huh. That was earlier than expected.
Me [10:54] We’ll be waiting with a nice bottle of osmanthus ^__^
Zhongli [10:55]: Darling, please. Drinking is bad for the baby
Me [10:55]: One glass won’t cause genetic disorders, Zhongli.
Zhongli [10:56]: Very well… I’ll still make sure to watch your consumption though.
Me [10:56]: Fine by me <3 Take care on the way back. I love you.
Zhongli [11:15]: Sorry, just got past a checkpoint. I love you, too.
You put away your phone with a sigh, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. For good measure, you pinch your cheek the same way Hu Tao used to do when she was still in charge – just to make sure you’re not dreaming. 
But the baby is intent on helping you out with that when you feel it kick a bit too hard against your navel.
“Okay, point taken,” you mumble. 
A year ago, you wouldn’t have pictured yourself carrying a human child – much more picturing yourself as a human. But you learned that time is kind to those who wait. It’s just as Zhongli said: regardless of everything that happened in the past, what’s important is what you do now in the present. 
And to you, that’s all that matters. 
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★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★
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© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.
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Decided to finally take a look into my photo folder after almost 2 years of not looking there
Gonna share some them here bc this blog is MY autism and IM gonna be the one who chooses how its gonna look like (im not gonna be mentioning vrc worlds here bc i dont rember lol)
22nd of march 2024 - a friend of mine showering me with affection while i was afk (she gay)
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20th of february 2024 - "Sunset in the ocean" (despite how bad it looks i love it honestly)
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23rd of december 2023 - "Universal bandit named: Fukc" (probably one of my greatest most beautiful creations /hj)
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31st of august 2023 - "The autism" (probably was the loudest and longest laugh i've had; all of the other options were so fucking good too but the outpocketness of the last one got me harrrrrrrd)
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20th of july 2023 - "Highest tower"
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31st of march 2023 - Probably the prettiest world i have seen in vrchat (i miss that avi.. its not only been made unavailable but also the creator of it nuked; that avi is my pfp atm, still yet to decide again what avi i have captures the "me" energy)
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16th of february 2023 - One of earliest memory i have with my long time friend gwen @virapyon
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21st of july 2022 - Probably the 1st time i ever tried using pens in vrc (glad to know my sense of humor havent changed since then)
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Also despite being besties with @doggirlpaws we share 0 pictures together, at least on my end; mind sharing them if you find any bestie?
@virapyon this applies to you too as well girlie
also ahem,
EVERY MUTUAL MENTIONED IN THIS POST IS VERY GOOD LOOKING AND WHOEVER FINDS THIS POST SHOULD THINKS SO AS WELL CAPICHE?????
tagging into my other, but nonetheless beloved mutuals im not that active with to say hi, you are welcome to add your good experiences that you had, be it vrc, gaming, life or anything else, would love to hear more from you people; no pressure tho
@letrayofash @suchlostflame @redheadedfailgirl @labgrownmeat @collector-of-dust
@parasocial-hermit @raspberrypie4u
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the-marshals-wife · 7 days
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Strangers Like Me (Orm Marius x Reader)
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A/N: I love Orm so, so much, and I've wanted to write for him since my major obsession with the first movie back in 2019. The sequel was everything I could have wanted for his character, and now that he's had the perfect open ending to his cinematic story, I finally let the inspiration run wild. This is the longest fic I've ever posted, and I'm proud to say he was the muse that inspired it.
Description: Orm Marius/Ocean Master x Fem!Reader (human), friends to lovers | Warnings: suggestive themes, steaminess at the end, cataclysmic levels of fluff throughout | Setting: after The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 5.8k
Gif credit: user acecroft
Imagine Orm opening up to you about who he truly is, and wanting to be part of your world
If someone had asked you a few months ago where you liked to be most, you wouldn't have said the boardwalk. Now, it'd become your favorite place in the world. Not for the noisy crowds, overpriced deep-fried foods, or vendors overflowing with cheap beachwear and souvenirs for the tourists. Those things you could have done without. That is, until you met Orm. Ever since that fateful day, everything around you had transformed into something new and exciting. Today was no different.
"I can't believe you've never had a corn dog before," you say.
Orm walks alongside you, well into his second serving. "And I can't believe something this abysmal in appearance can taste so good," he replies before taking another bite.
"Seriously, what have you been eating all this time?" you ask, wiping the mustard from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
He swallows before answering, "Fish, mostly."
He was completely serious, as usual.
"You really love seafood, don't you?"
"Where I'm from, it's just called food," he counters.
Once again, you found yourself wanting to ask where exactly that place was. The last time you inquired yielded little insight. He gave a vague reply to the tune of "somewhere far away" and quickly changed the subject. For a while, you'd assumed he was originally European or something like that. Yet the more time went on, the more difficult it became to believe in that explanation. There must be a reason he did not want to talk about it, and you knew when he was ready, he would probably tell you. Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he had come from, and why he had not showed up sooner.
"So, what did you think of your first corn dog?" you ask instead.
"It was excellent. And I imagine it will not be my last," he says, tossing the stick into a trashcan as you walk by, "I still don't understand the name though, if it's not made of dog."
"Me either, honestly," you laugh as you toss your trash as well, "I'll have to look it up sometime."
"Speaking of, I listened to the singer you told me about."
"You did? What did you think?!" you exclaim, almost bumping into a passerby in your excitement.
"She is quite good, vocally. But I do think Ms. Parton would have more success exposing her rival publicly," he suggests.
"I know you're not talking about Jolene right now," you burst out laughing, covering your mouth.
"Indeed. This Jolene is a siren. She lures men with her wiles, and then goes unpunished because of her beauty," he explains wholeheartedly, holding his arms behind his back.
"Well that's the point of the song. Dolly is calling her out," you remind, "Plus what about her man? Shouldn't he get some of the blame? Falling for Jolene when he's already in a relationship? I mean come on, he's talking about her in his sleep. That's pretty low."
"Indeed, he misses the treasure that is right in front of him because he too has no honor," he expounds, his expression turning thoughtful, "You're right. Ultimately, they're deserving of each other."
"See! I told you," you chuckle victoriously.
Orm shakes his head, "I could not be tempted by such a woman."
"Oh, I don't know. You heard Dolly. Her beauty is 'beyond compare'."
"That is merely a facade," he dismisses, waving his hand, "Besides, I have seen far more beautiful than her."
You're about to inquire about his remark, but then you realize he's looking over at you. You can only hold his attentive gaze a moment before averting your eyes toward your feet, heart fluttering.
The previous moment still hanging heavy in the air, you walk together quietly for a minute before Orm stops in front of a beachwear vendor.
"Now that is amusing," he declares.
You backup a couple of steps to stand alongside him, "What is?"
He points to a pink tee shirt, the image of a mermaid riding on the back of a smiling dolphin printed on the front. "Dolphins are actually quite aggressive. They do not enjoy having riders on their backs. Sharks are much better mounts."
You stare at him, brow furrowed. "And how do you know that exactly?"
"I, uh, saw it on a television program," he stutters, "about taming sea life."
That was a lie if you'd ever heard one, and a strange one no less.
"Uh-huh," you reply unconvinced, walking away.
In silence, you resume your short walk to the end of the dock, Orm trailing close behind you. Once you reach the end, you lean over and rest your arms on the weathered wood railing, and he stands beside you. A few moments pass as you watch the waves crash upon the shore below and breathe in the salt air. It's not long before you feel his gaze on you once again.
He finally speaks, hesitation thick in his voice, "Something...on your mind?"
You smirk to yourself before looking over at him, "I'm just trying to figure you out."
"What do you mean?" he asks, concern visible in his bright eyes.
"I've never met anyone like you before. So much of what you say is a mystery," you remark.
"That is a fair point," he concedes, "I don't wish to vex you. There's just...so much that I don't know how to say."
You stand up straighter, smiling at him softly.
"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Everyone has parts of themselves that they hide. Parts they don't want anyone else to see. There's nothing wrong with that," you reply, turning towards the ocean, "You don't like talking about your past, and I respect that. I just don't want you to think you have to hide. It's awful feeling like you don't belong, just for being yourself. I wouldn't want that for you."
"That is kind of you to say. Truly." He mirrors your posture on the railing, moving closer to you as a result. "You don't make me want to hide, Y/N. Quite the opposite, actually. I've learned so many things from you these past few weeks, and I have greatly enjoyed your company."
You look back to him, your heart skipping, "So have I."
His gaze softens. "I've also never met anyone like you before. You find joy and purpose in even the smallest of things. It inspires me how gracefully you view the world. And I've known no one whom I've wanted to share it with more."
Everything else around you melted away as you find yourself becoming just as lost in his eyes as you've been in his words.
Before either of you can move an inch closer, the chime of your cellphone cuts through the thick air between you.
Cursing inwardly, you shoot upright, embarrassed, and retrieve it from your pocket. It's an all-caps text from your sister with many exclamation marks, quickly followed by another. The sister you just now realized you forgot needed picked up.
"Oh no. I have to go," you say, frenzied, "My sister's waiting for me. I have to drive her home from her class, I completely forgot!"
"I understand," he nods, touching your arm assuringly, "Do you want me to accompany you back to the lot?"
"I really appreciate it, but I literally have to run. I'm so sorry, Orm," you say, turning to leave.
You make it only a few steps before you hear him call out.
"Y/N!"
Despite the urgency of your escape, you can't help but turn on your heel expectantly.
"Would you meet me tomorrow? Down on the beach, beneath the pier around sunset?"
A grin spreads across your face. "I'll be there!"
It took everything in you not to grin like an idiot the entire drive to pick up your less-than-amused sister. You weren't ready for the brutal interrogation that would surely come if she saw the look you knew was on your face. After apologizing to her profusely and letting her chew you out, as was her sisterly right, her suspicions were already raised.
"You've never looked this happy for me to yell at you," she said, glaring at you.
"I'm just really enjoying my book! I started the sequel I told you about," you defended, flashing a smile even you knew was pretty fake.
"Enough to forget all about me," she rolled her eyes and punched your arm, "You're not telling me something, I know it."
"I'm dying to know if she's really the lost heir to the throne, I heard the reveal is like halfway through," you add, ignoring her last words.
"Mhm," she grumbled, "Fine don't tell me. I'll figure it out, just wait. You can't hide from me."
"The only thing I need to hide from you is my chocolate bars," you argue in a desperate attempt to throw her off the subject.
"I'll find those too," she snickered confidently.
You laughed it off and went back to biting down hard on your lip. It was the only thing you could do not to spill everything to her as she continued to give you the side-eye. Your body was at the steering wheel, but your mind, and your heart, were back on that boardwalk. The final glare she gave you in her driveway was unmissable, but for now, you'd evaded being found out as you made a getaway back to your own apartment.
That night you'd hardly slept, the moment at the end of the dock replaying in your mind over and over well into the morning. Work only made it worse, the monotony making the perfect backdrop to picture what the coming evening would bring. When your shift ended, you couldn't get out of there fast enough to go home and change.
Now, with sunset fast approaching, you were circling the parking lot trying to find a space, and close to bribing someone to move, when a spot finally opened up.
"Someone loves me," you exhale, hurriedly locking your car as you throw your bag over your shoulder.
The words linger in your thoughts. You can't help but blush at the notion, given your current destination, and who was waiting there.
In some ways it seemed like a lifetime since you met Orm, and in others it felt like only yesterday. The memory of that fateful day comes to the front of your thoughts as you start the long trek to the path that cuts through the dunes.
Unlike your fib from last night, you'd actually been desperate to finish the book your coworker had been pestering you about all summer. With only four chapters left, you'd escaped to the boardwalk one sunny Tuesday afternoon, hoping to find a bench, a fresh lemonade, and far less crowds than the weekend so that you could finally finish in peace.
Just as you'd sucked up the last drop of your drink and reached the last handful of pages, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. On a bench across the way from you, you saw a man trying to untangle the most knotted pair of earbuds you'd ever seen in your life. You watched him from behind the top of your book, and suppressed a giggle as he became more animated in frustration. He ran a hand through his blond hair and seemed near to giving up on the whole endeavor. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, you tucked your book beneath your arm, tossed your empty cup in the trash, and started to walk over.
"He did this on purpose," he muttered as you approached.
"I can take a crack at them, if you'd like."
In his fierce concentration, he hadn't noticed you approach. He jumped a bit at your greeting, and squinted up at you, confused.
"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Would you like some help with those?" you smiled hesitantly, "I just, I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with them."
"Well, you are welcome to try," he invited with a sigh, extending them to you, "Although I have seen seaweed less entangled than this."
You took them and sat down beside him, analyzing the knots.
"Earbuds are pretty notorious for getting tangled," you began, pausing to focus a moment, "These, however, look like a sailor used them to practice tying his knots."
"Courtesy of my brother," he said with no small amount of exasperation, "He delights in making things difficult for me."
"As brothers are wont to do."
"Indeed," he conceded.
Untying your own numerous pairs of earbuds over the years had more than prepared you for this moment. You'd made quick work of separating the right and left buds, down to the last few kinks in each.
"You're quite skilled at this," he observed.
"I should probably put it on my resume, huh?" you chuckled as you conquered the final knot.
"I think you might consider it," he laughed as well.
At last, all the tangles were gone.
"There you go," you declared, handing them back, "Good as new."
"Impressive," he remarked, marveling at your handiwork before looking back at you, "Thank you for your assistance."
"You're welcome," you smiled and pointed to the iPod in his lap, "What do you like to listen to, if you don't mind me asking?"
He hesitated, picking it up, "I'm...not actually sure how this device works. Are you familiar with the technology?"
"An iPod?" you laugh, "Yeah, I had one in high school. It's been a while and it wasn't this exact model, but they're all pretty much the same. MP3 players, that is. I had so many songs on mine, I couldn't add any more. Never went anywhere without it. I had to tape it together in senior year because I used it so much."
"Perhaps you could show me how to properly operate it?" he posed, turning towards you more, "My brother sent it to me. He said it contains music inside that I must hear, but I'm at a loss on knowing how to make it play."
You gazed at him bewildered a moment, caught off guard. Never had you met anyone who didn't know how to work an iPod before. But then again, you reminded yourself, not everyone had a chance to own one.
"Sure," you grinned, "I can show you. There's not too much to it, really, once you know the basics."
"Thank you," he replied sincerely, "It's not often that I've met a lady with such kindness, and lightness of fingers."
Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks at his gracious works, and suddenly it was difficult to hold the gaze of his rich blue eyes.
"It's no problem at all," you replied, offering your hand, "I'm Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Orm Marius, and the pleasure is mine."
Before you could blink, he'd taken your hand, and instead of shaking it, he kissed your knuckles. If he had lingered, perhaps it would have alarmed you. But he did it so quickly, it was like it was second-nature to him. Practiced or not, your head spun nonetheless, and launching into an urgent, flustered spiel about how to power on the iPod was all you could do to keep yourself held together.
You spent the next half an hour showing him everything from the buttons to the way to change the background image on the menus. Before long, you were talking about all of your favorite songs and artists, simultaneously making lists for each that he would have to listen to. Orm listened eagerly to your recommendations, and soon the conversation turned to any and every subject, from foods to places to dreams. You still remember the feeling of the rest of the world fading away as you talked to him, afternoon turning to evening. And the thrill you felt when he asked if he could see you again.
In the almost four months since, every meeting followed much in the same manner as that first day, with introducing Orm to the many things he'd never experienced before, and hours of conversation on the pier or walking along the beach. You'd stolen away to this area as many times as possible to see him, well over a dozen now. Of course your sister was more suspicious than ever after yesterday, but you still weren't ready to reveal where you'd been spending so many evenings, and who you'd spent them with. There was something exhilarating about you and Orm meeting secretly, and you wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.
He had such wonder about the world, like someone who'd not been in it very long. It was one of his oddest qualities, but his curiosity was endearing to you. Despite knowing so little about his past, you'd come to trust him like few others in your life. Whoever he'd been before, and wherever he was from, it seemed he had no intention on going back. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't want him to. There were so many places you wanted to take him further inland, yet he was still hesitant to go far from from the ocean. You'd never gone beyond a couple of blocks from the boardwalk together, but tonight, with the energy of yesterday's encounter fresh in your mind, you'd planned to breech the topic with him.
Now, the sun is sinking lower in the pale orange sky and your pulse quickens with the threat of being late. With all your reminiscing and daydreaming, you'd lost track of the time. You nearly run across the wooden walkway over the dunes and down the broad stairs. As soon as your feet hit the sand, you remove your sandals. Grasping them in one hand and the strap of your bookbag in the other, you take off into the best sprint you can manage. The pier is still a good distance up the beach, and you want to curse out whoever built the access so far away. You run at an angle towards the water, the wetter ground giving you better traction than the loose sand.
Just within the shadow of the great structure, you finally see Orm up ahead, his back turned. Out of breath, you slow your pace and try to catch some of it back before you reach him. Once he's within ear shot you call out to him.
"I'm sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday," you pant.
He spins on his heel. Relief is written all over his face.
"You came. I was afraid you might not," he sighs, walking up to meet you.
"Of course," you exhale, dropping your shoes and brushing away the hair clinging to your forehead, "Why wouldn't I?"
His expression indicates he had not thought of an answer to that question.
"I don't know," he hesitates, "I didn't mean anything by that. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. I did ask you at the last minute."
You can't help but chuckle as he stumbles regretfully all over his words.
"I brought you something," you declare to change the subject, much to his gratitude.
"A gift? For me?"
You can tell by his tone that he is actually baffled. Reaching into your satchel, you retrieve the item. In your outstretched palm, you hold a small snow globe, a miniature skyline of New York City contained inside.
His confused expression leads you to elaborate. "It's called a snow globe," you say, turning it upside down so that the little flakes inside swirl around, "You told me once that you never get to see snow where you're from. Now you can see it whenever you want."
He tentatively takes it, entranced by the miniature flurry.
"That's where I'm from. Well, I grew up there. We moved here when I was sixteen," you add, chuckling, "It's a little bit nicer in person."
Orm looks up at you, visibly touched by the gesture, "It's wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you smile, "I, hope that I can show you the real thing some day."
"I would like that," he replies with the smallest hint of sadness, pausing to behold it again, "I will treasure this always."
You'd never met anyone who talked like he did. Everything word he spoke was with full conviction. Others might sound pompous or conceited speaking the way he does, but when he said something, you believed he truly meant it.
"I'm glad you like it," you say, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I do, very much," he says, frowning a bit, "I'm only sorry that I have nothing to give you in return."
"That's alright," you dismiss.
"Will you keep it safe for me while we are by the water? I regret that I have no pockets large enough to carry it."
"Absolutely," you say, putting it securely back inside your bag, "I know that feeling all too well."
When you finish with the zipper and lift your head up, you see Orm offering his arm to you. Surprised, and twice as excited, you take it.
As you cross beneath the pier and set off down the beach together, you suppress the urge to glance up at him. You agonize over what to say next, hoping he would speak first. When he did, it only made your heart beat faster.
"Actually, when I said I had nothing to give you, that was not entirely true," he said, clearing his throat before going on, "As much as I enjoy your educating me in foods and traditions I've never tried, I was hoping this evening we might enjoy a treat of a different kind."
Just up ahead, something on the shore comes into view. Your mind races in anticipation, and moments later, you come upon a blue blanket spread out neatly across the sand. A single white rose lies in the middle.
"Oh Orm," you breathe.
"It's not much, but I thought you would like to watch the sunset with at least some level of comfort," he says, a veil of nervousness in his voice.
"It's perfect," you exclaim.
He releases your arm and picks up the rose, presenting it to you.
"For you."
You feel nearly breathless once more as you take the flower and inhale its sweet fragrance.
"It's beautiful," you sigh, "Thank you."
He smiles timidly at your approval. "Shall we?"
"This is amazing," you say, removing your bag and carefully sitting down on the soft blanket.
He follows suit, and you gently place the rose in your lap as he comes to rest close beside you. The glow of the setting sun warms your skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.
You'd never seen him act like this before. He was normally so calm and collected, but now he was almost pure nerves. You work up the courage to glance over at him. He's staring hard ahead, clenching his jaw and rolling a seashell between his fingers. It's slowly becoming clear that you're not the only one who wanted to say something this evening. Normally, you found the rolling of the waves to be one of most soothing sounds in the world. But at this moment, they were far too loud.
You decide you have to break the excruciating silence.
"I've only watched a true beach sunset alone before."
Your voice brings him out from his trance. "I've also been by myself. I'm glad I have someone to share the splendor with."
"Me too."
He smiles weakly, and fixes his stare back on the horizon.
To your disappointment, the silence returns. Before long, everything is bathed in golden light. The sky transforms into rich oranges and reds before your eyes. The beach is surprisingly deserted apart from the seagulls and sand pipers, making it seem all the more that this moment was tailor-made just for the two of you.
Just when you're about to speak again, Orm at last turns towards you.
"I wish I could show you my world, Y/N. It is a realm of beauty, and strength, and light. You belong in such a place."
You feel your cheeks flush as he continues.
"Where I'm from, you can't see the stars at night. But there is a place with magnificent, glowing lights. A cave, filled with luminescence of every color you can imagine. You would absolutely love it."
"That sounds magical." You hang on his every word as you try to picture it.
"My mother used to take me there when I was a boy. I remember my whole hand disappearing inside hers." He smiled at the memory, but it faded as he spoke once more, "We used to go there seeking solace from my father."
Frowning, he throws the seashell towards the water. The sun begins to dissolve into the ocean, but neither of you take notice.
"Did you not get along?" you ask, hoping it was not too personal to do so.
His gaze falls downward again. "That's one way of putting it. Growing up in his shadow was- challenging. He was severe about many things, and against all of the rest. He expected me to become just like him. Demanded it, more like. Yet he was never up to the task of teaching me how. I wanted nothing more than to please him, but as I look back on it now, I'm not sure that I ever did. I was never worthy enough to be his son."
His words make your chest ache. You reach to gently touch his hand on the blanket.
"You are not an unworthy son," you assert, your feelings coming to the surface, "He was an unworthy father. I don't need to have met him to know that. Because I know you, and you are a good man. The most thoughtful, polite, decent man I've ever met."
He stares at you, emotion all over his face. A wistful look shines in his eyes.
"If only I had known you then," he reflects, "Perhaps I would not have gotten so lost in the tides of his storm."
"I wish I had known you too," you agree, more shyly than you'd expected, "But wouldn't have needed me. You already survived it, all on your own. You're stronger than he ever was."
His expression steels.
"Y/N, there is something I must tell you," he says, his tone turning grave, "It will not be easy for you to hear it, but I can't go on without you knowing what I am. I cannot hide it any longer. You deserve to know the truth."
Your heart starts to race quicker than your thoughts at his startling declaration. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, he casts off his jacket and stands up.
"Orm, what are you talking about?"
"Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you," he says, reaching out his hand to you, "I want you to understand. No more secrets."
For just a moment, you look up into his pleading eyes. Then, as if it had even been a choice, you carefully set the rose aside and take his hand. He helps you to your feet and leads you down past the water's edge. The cool water on your feet sends a shiver up your spine. The foam is lapping at your ankles when he stops just in front of you.
"You see that marker?" he points ahead.
The breeze whips your hair into your sight as you fight to push it away. You have to squint to see the outline of the buoy, the red light on top twinkling faintly in the twilight.
"Yes," you hesitate.
"Keep your eye on it," he directs calmly.
With that one instruction, he retreats further into the water, stopping until it is well above his waist. You cross your arms against the chill of sea spray and wait worriedly. He looks up and down the beach, as if to make sure no one is watching. You are still alone. Before you can call out to him, he dives headlong into the waves.
What follows you can only describe as a thunder beneath the water. It looks as if a missile has been launched from where Orm stood, careening toward the marker. Mere seconds later, a blast like a whale spout shoots above the horizon, and the buoy rocks violently as it is landed upon by the figure that flew up out of the sea.
A gasp escapes from your agape mouth as you witness the silhouette wave at you, and proceed to dive back into the blue.
Three pounding heartbeats later, Orm immerges from the surf and walks toward you, slicking back his dripping hair. His tee shirt clings to his muscular form, and his soaked jeans don't seem to encumber him at all. You're frozen in the sand, staring at him with only one word on your parted lips.
"How..."
"There's no simple way to say it, but you must know. I am from the Kingdom of Atlantis," he confesses, struggling to hold your stare, "I am Prince Orm Marius, son of Queen Atlanna. Although I was once ruler, I made many mistakes during my time on the throne for which I was banished. My penance is served by my exile here on the surface. I deserve my fate, and I gladly uphold it, but it is not something I wanted to keep from you any longer. I'm sorry that I was not honest with you sooner, but I didn't think that I could trust any surface-dweller with my secret. I was...proven wrong."
"You're a real Atlantean?" you manage to get out.
"I am," he nods, apprehension still in his voice, "I was raised to hate the surface and its inhabitants, but much has changed. You, Y/N, have had no small part in that."
Despite your reeling head, it's slowly becoming clear what Orm is saying by this grand unveiling of his true identity. As you struggle to process it, however, your silence compels him to go on.
"If all of this is too much, I understand. It is my burden to bear, and you did not ask to be part of it."
"I-It's not that," you stammer as the shock starts to wear off. You step closer to him. "Not at all. It's just a lot to take in. I need a minute, that's all. I promise."
Hope lights up his eyes.
"Absolutely," he agrees eagerly, "I apologize, I know this reveal was sudden. Please ask any questions that you have. I will withhold nothing from you."
As you finally begin look at him instead of through him, only one question lodged in your throat.
"Why?" you ask through threatening tears, "Why did you tell me all this?"
You knew why, because it was the same reason you wanted to tell him all of your own secrets. The same reason you came back to this beach over and over. The same reason your heart skipped every time you saw his handsome face, and heard him speak your name. You just wanted to hear him say it. For any of this to work, you needed to hear it.
His anxious gaze softens as he weighs his answer.
"I meant every word of what I told you yesterday. When I'm with you, I see a future that I never thought I would deserve. You make me feel like I can be more than I've ever been. And for the first time in my life, I have felt true happiness," he says, finding the words along with his conviction, "I never thought I would belong anywhere but Atlantis, but now, I want to know more about this world and its many gifts. And most of all, I want you to be by my side to show it to me."
"I want that too," you respond, tears threatening.
He gently takes your hand in his. "Even after all that I've done, part of me hoped that I might find some kind of redemption here on the surface. I wasn't sure how, and then I met you," he says tearfully, searching your eyes, "Y/N, you gave me that hope. Your goodness, your charity, your beauty. This realm has much to offer, more than I ever dreamed, but you are what I love most about the surface. From that very first day we spoke, I knew that you were what I was meant to find here."
Your vision blurs as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.
"All of that to say...I've fallen in love with you, Y/N."
A sob escapes your throat as you look into his eyes and see it.
"I fell for you too. From the first day," you nod, finding your own confidence, "Being Atlantean doesn't change that. I don't care about who you've been or what you've done. I want to be with you. I love you too, Orm."
His composure crumbles along with yours as you embrace. The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet in a desperate kiss. You rest your hands on his chest and melt into his touch. He sighs and deepens the kiss, pulling you close against him. You feel the coolness of this still-dripping clothes soak through to your skin as you become lost in the taste of salt and longing. When you're forced to come up for air, you're both beaming.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he smiles, caressing your face.
"Me too," you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck, "What did you think of your first surface-dweller kiss?"
"Not too bad. I think I'll have to try it again before I decide if I really like it," he smirks.
"Well, if you get me out of this frigid water, I'll see what I can do about that," you tease back.
"Now that I can do," he announces.
You shriek in surprise as he swiftly lifts you from the water and into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. He chuckles in amusement and carries you bridal style back toward the shore.
"Orm!" you protest, in an obviously half-hearted fashion.
"I have to admit, concealing my Atlantean strength has been considerably more difficult than I anticipated," he reveals, wincing a bit, "I intended to bring a bottle of wine tonight as well, but- the glass here is far weaker than what I'm accustomed to."
You laugh. "Well, it's the thought that counts."
"I'm glad you think so. Because I thought since I'm responsible for us missing the best part of the sunset, that perhaps we could lie under the stars instead?" he suggests, setting you down gently on your feet upon the blanket.
"I would love to," you say, looking up at him, "But aren't you freezing in those clothes?"
"I'm used to it," he shrugs, "I don't think I feel the cold the same as you."
"In that case," you say, pulling him closer into tender kiss, "What do you think about that?"
He grins.
"It was perfect, and I'm certain it will not be my last."
You no longer feel the chill as you cling to him, and he rests his forehead to yours. It didn't matter where the tides of life would take you next. As long as Orm was there to hold you in the waves, you would always be in your favorite place.
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sensitiveheartless · 5 months
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20 questions for fic writers!
Tagged by @feralrookie! :D Thank you for the tag!!
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
10! (technically, kinda)
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
379,547
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Just Bungou Stray Dogs! It's also the first fandom I've written for, actually. :D
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
This is how it feels to take a fall (Dazai goes feral, time shenanigans)
Plate :( (Dazai breaks a plate, experiences emotions)
Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency (Howl's Moving Castle AU)
Chuunyaa's Pawsitively Catastrophic Day (Chuuya is turned into a cat, it's short and pretty much just shenanigans)
Wish in one hand (First fic I wrote, and the first one I posted — Dazai has emotions about handholding)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to, but I've been absolutely terrible at it lately — whenever I'm particularly stressed I start worrying that the negative emotions are going to leak through into what I'm writing and make my tone sound weird, so then I end up turtling in on myself and not saying anything at all, no matter how much I want to engage with people. It's a bad habit, and I want to work on it, so I'm gonna try to catch up on comments! (I treasure every single one of the ones I receive, so for anyone who has left a comment and hasn't gotten a response from me yet, thank you and I am very sorry about my inability to form words in a timely manner skdjfksd)
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Probably An Unsent Letter, since it's pretty much just a short snippet of Dazai being sad while he's leaving the mafia. And even with that one, I have in my head that skk still get together after the four years apart, I just didn't write it. I am dreadful with sad endings — although the ending to "This is how it feels to take a fall" is a little bittersweet, perhaps.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm...I'm gonna say Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency, because it's the one with the longest buildup, so I think it has the most catharsis, at least for me! But I tend to give all of my fics happy endings because, as established, I am a wimp when it comes to hardcore angst. I will say that Zut Alors I Have Missed One is probably a contender for happiest as well, just because that fic had no angst whatsoever and was just Unhinged
8. Do you get hate on fic?
Nope! Everyone's been lovely! I have gotten some for my art, but honestly it was pretty toothless and I couldn't take it seriously lol
9. Do you write smut?
...Yeh. :0 There was an attempt, at least — one fic, and I made it anonymous (so on the extreme off-chance that anyone notices a discrepancy between my total ao3 wordcount listed here and the summed up wordcounts of the fics viewable on my profile, that's why!) It's also another fic I need to finish, I hit my writing roadblock with that one at the same time as all my others, and it's almost doneeee I just need my brain to cooperate >:|
10. Do you write crossovers?
Not any proper crossovers, only things like the Howl AU and the Little Mermaid AU, where I took the settings/plots and put in BSD characters.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
...Possibly? I'm not actually sure, I've given a couple people permission, but I'm not sure if anything came of that, I haven't heard one way or another :0 I do have a tendency to use puns, which I realize might make things difficult for translations
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, not so far — and given how tempestuous my schedule has been, it'll probably be a while before I attempt anything like that! Sounds fun, though
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
...I mean, it's gotta be soukoku, because for all that I've enjoyed a lot of fictional pairings before (for example, Howl and Sophie specifically from the HMC books, Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing — I like bickering duos, what do you know — Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, currently falling down the Hualian rabbithole because I'm reading Heaven Official's Blessing with my friend, and there's lots of other ones), for as much as I like all those, I haven't really had much of an urge to write anything for them.
So, purely in terms of me wanting to mess around with two characters and write them over and over and over again, it's really only skk! They hit the exact right combination of braincells, I guess lololol
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?
Hmmm...honestly, most of my WIPs I still intend to finish at some point or another — first priority being the ones I've already started posting, of course! Although...just due to time constraints, I might not get around to writing the thief!Chuuya/detective!Dazai one I was planning a while back. (and I mean a WHILE lol) I didn't write very much of it, and honestly most of the reason I wanted to write it was for comedy — so maybe I'll turn it into a short comic series instead, because I do think some of the bits were funny :0
16. What are your writing strengths?
That's a hard one; I tend to look more at the ways I want to improve my writing then at what I like about it, and I nitpick just about everything I create, art and writing alike. But if I had to pick something, I would probably say dialogue? That tends to be what I write easiest, at least. I still want to get better at that too, though.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Descriptions and action scenes. I've been making myself write them more, so I think I'm slowly improving (the Howl AU has been great for that! It pushed me to write all sorts of scenes I wouldn't have normally :D ), but those two things remain what I get bogged down by the most.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Depends on the circumstances, I think? I'd include translations if I did. I do tend to include Japanese honorifics when I'm writing in the canon universe, because there's not really english equivalents and it feels like I'm leaving something out when I just do their names straight — although I did take them out when I was doing the Howl AU and the Little Mermaid AU, just as a setting thing.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Bungou Stray Dogs — like I mentioned in the ship section, this is the first fandom where I've really felt the urge. Although I did write things when I was little that very blatantly yoinked in various creatures and concepts from the things I was reading and watching, which resulted in stories with pirates and weeping angels and Ringwraiths all running around in the same place. But I didn't usually bother with bringing in actual characters from those pieces of media, or even using the settings, I just made ocs and had them run around in my own made up world.
20. Favorite fic you've written?
I like all of them for different reasons, but I think my favorite overall has to be Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and when I started out I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it — so the fact that it's most of the way done (currently chipping away at the epilogue, it is getting to be a LOT of words) makes me really happy. And it's just been so much fun! Writing characters I hadn't before, piecing the world together, working out the magic system, writing Dazai being a mess and Chuuya being cool, it's all been a blast. And I seriously need to finish the epilogue, because the followups are living in my brain and they demand to be freed aksdfjksdjfk
But yeah! I'm not sure how many writers I know on here have already been tagged, so I'll just go open tags on this one! :D If any of y'all write and feel like doing this, then go for it!
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gffa · 5 months
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for the character ask game! dick grayson: 5, 16, 25
5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? Lmao please don't ask me this question, because I have zero musical taste--and I don't mean I have bad musical taste, I mean I have no taste whatsoever, I barely listen to music, and I have no funny suggestions! (Mostly because I don't care for most of the ~jokes~ about his physical body.) 16. What's your least favorite ship for this character? Fandom has made it extremely hard to like a lot of other Dick ships because literally half the fandom can't stop tearing down Dick/Babs to build up their ship, which means there's nothing there for me to like, all it does is make me think there's not much there, if the only content to come up with is ranting about another ship. Nobody's obligated to like Dick/Babs, nobody's even obligated to not rant about it, I know where my scroll button is, but also all it does is push me further away from the ship that was supposedly being sold in that post, because it seems like an unfun place to be. But my actual least favorite ship for Dick is probably Bruce/Dick because it's so close to what I want out of that relationship, except also a thousand miles away from it! Honestly, one of my oldest friends is a Bruce/Dick shipper and the overlap we have of views on the characters is probably like 85%, we just diverge on how that plays out and we both feel extremely strongly about how we dislike the other path, but that we respect the other person being on it. We both are really into the fucked up entanglement of the characters, the mirroring aspect they have of each other, the belief that the other is the pure version of who they're meant to be, the frustration of how much they love the other while also being mad at them for the distance between them, the co-dependent disaster relationship, etc. All of that is the same for both of us, we just diverge on the context for it. Which is fine in our friendship, we meet in the middle, but there have been times when I feel like the ship would be so delicious for me, because it would tunnel vision in on those aspects I like, but the thought of them so much as even smooching makes me look like I bit into a lemon. How dare fandom almost give me what I want and then take it away from me!!!! Like, I don't actually care that it exists as a ship, fiction is not in a 1:1 relationship with reality and I think a lot of us get blinded by how modern comics go hard on the father & son aspect, which I am into and think is fair to evolve them into, but that wasn't always true and it's not like Bruce/Dick came out of nowhere. It just denies me personally what I want and therefore it it is The Worst For Me Personally And Thus Jail For DC Fandom For One Thousand Years!!!! 25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? Dick Grayson is my longest running Blorbo, like that guy invented Blorboism for me, before I ever had such a name for the concept. Dick Grayson has been my One True Character for 20+ years, nobody has ever unseated him, not Anakin, not Obi-Wan, not Thor, not Usagi, not Duo, not Tezuka, NONE OF THEM that I've lost my mind about. Dick Grayson came on the scene for me when I first watched B:TAS and hit my tiny little baby brain with his daddy issues on display and excellent Nightwing design in later episodes and the push-and-pull relationship with Babs and my fannish life has never been the same since. "That it. That's him. That's the one. That's the character I'm going to obsess over for the rest of my life." I must have said when I first saw him and I HAVE NOT BEEN PROVEN WRONG YET.
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catt-nuevenor · 5 months
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First off I was literally obsessed with your demo. It was actually the very first thing I ever read on dashington and I was basically inlove with all of the ROs.
That being said. As for the changes I've read through all the comments, asks and replies. And it's... different. Not necessarily bad just new I guess? Because it changes alot of the wonder I had experienced playing the demo. So it just feels weird I suppose?
No saying I won't read it, come on I love your writing. I practically word vomited my praises on tumblr as soon as I finished reading it the first time. And I get you said the old demo would still stay on but there's like.. no point if it's not gonna continue..? If that makes sense it's just then kind of incomplete?
I also for the most illogical reasons feel the same way as others when it comes to ROs being in relationships outside of MC. Like if they were already in a pre-existing relationship sure I get it! There are many stories like that if you don't choose to romance a character in the beginning they get back with an ex they broke up with or they are with someone else where you choose a route in like the very beginning. But again hear me out I'm completely stupid for this!!! But whenever I play a game where an RO then gets like with one of MCs friends on a different route it just fucks with my head for that LI. Like I then just see them with that other person. And have a fuck you attitude to that character aswell EVEN on a different route lmao it makes no sense! It's not logical! And it's dumb! But that's why I play fictional stories okay! So I don't hve to deal with shit like that. Don't judge me 😅🤣
Kay long tangent aside.. I guess what I'm saying is the new changes kinda scare me. But I'm keeping an open mind. I'd honestly read whatever you post because of how talented you are and yeah.. some of the ROs are probably gonna get a fuck you out of me for being in a different relationship and I'll probably not do that route because of how stupid my head is. So jesus I hope it isn't my fav LI 😭 but I'll still support you and I do wish you the best in the writing. I do love the story and I do like the addition of I guess more characters. Just the RO thing fucks with my head alil. I'm sorry if that's weird to some people.
I'm not making any sense just gonna go now... 🙈
Dear heck, I think this is the longest ask I've ever received. I didn't even know asks could be this long...
The changes will take a while for everyone to get used to, I think. But at least we'll all be in the same boat?
I do get the unsettling nature of seeing LIs romancing other characters while you're on alternate routes. The first one that springs to mind for me is Josephine in Dragon Age Inquisition. Seeing her fawn over Blackwall was weird. But, it made me realise how attached I was to her romance and hers alone, so it worked out in the long run.
Myrk Mire still isn't back on my working schedule yet, I'll let you all know when it is, and I'll try to keep you updated with WIP screenshots or planning doodles. Perhaps then I'll also give a bit more information on the dynamics of the LIs and the variables driving who makes eyes and who.
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justatalkingface · 1 year
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Hey! I've been reblogging some of your stuff and throwing my two cents in what I think. So I come here with a simple question...
What're your thoughts on Shota Aizawa?
Because for me, he's no different than the teachers in Aldera when it comes to handling Izuku. He's also a flatout hypocrite by getting onto All Might for favoring Izuku when he does the same with Hitoshi.
And I'm not even mentioning how he uses his trauma to justify his bs teaching ways
...Hahahahaha! So, you have no way of knowing this, but I've basically been preparing for this moment, to make this rant, for the longest time. More than probably any other character in this series, I've thought about Aizawa, tried to put into words what bugged me about him, scoured the internet for opinions to broaden my understanding, to find the right words. Quite a few posts have been yours, actually.
The short answer is that, simply, I hate him. Once I got past his Kakashi Aura from my first impression, I didn't like him, but fandom hype for Dadzawa, as well as the fact that usually comes with horrifying levels of bashing for people like All Might (ironically, perhaps the most unsung hero in the setting, seeing how few people seem to like his character) curdled it deep into loathing. Still, I'm going to be try to be objective as I talk.
The long answer is more complicated, and very, very long, but still overwhelmingly negative. For me, part of it is that Aizawa is easily the winner of the title of being The Favored Mouthpiece. This is a mixed blessing for him, to say the least; on the positive side, this fact has done a lot for his positive reception and total screen time, the the narrative bends over backwards to agree with what he says, time and time again. On the negative... for all that I'm aware that he's just lines on paper, on deeply visceral level I have sympathetic disgust for all the times he's been used like a puppet to parrot one agenda or another, and it muddles the water on who his character actually is. Honestly, it's been going on for so long, and it's still going on, I wonder if I should just... accept these random outbursts as part of his actual characterization.
At a fundamental level, I've had this question burning inside of me for a long time now: does this man even want to be a teacher? No, this is a serious question: he is effectively working two jobs, and managing it terribly (unlike every other UA teacher, who are all heroes for no apparent reason, and especially Present Mic who somehow has three jobs and still is full of energy. Does that man ever sleep?). He seems to hate the daylight. He seems to hate being clean. He seems to hate children. He hates, if not teaching, then teaching people that don't vibe on his level. He hates being on a schedule. He hates following authority. Really the only part of being teacher he does probably like is the actual paycheck.
So, again, why is he a teacher? I know he likes taking someone under his wing, but that use of a singular pronoun was very specific: he wants one person, one that fills whatever bizarre and unknown criteria, to teach (I'm still not sure what made him look at about five minutes of Shinso and say, 'This, this is the child I shall give all my skills, all my knowledge, and even my physics defying combat weapon.' Like, do they have to be his mini-me? Bear the soul of Grumpy Cat? I really don't know), an apprentice, not students plural. From what I gleaned from the Vigilante manga (which I should probably reread at some point), it's that desire, but misunderstood, combined with nostalgia, loneliness (his friends were already at UA) and peer pressure, that motivated him to start teaching at UA.
I don't really need to say it, but those are terrible reasons to become a teacher, and probably help explain why he's so bad at it.
Before I get into that, I want to address one thing: I've seen, online, that Aizawa's role as homeroom teacher is something completely different in Japan than it is for anywhere English speaking. So these various comments and what not say is, in Japan, these home room teachers aren't actually supposed to teach. They're supposed to be... something like councilors, I believe: they stay with the children and help guide them, and so on, and that's why he's a better teacher than we think he is. I've never actually seen anyone counter that argument, just agree, and I've had this response waiting for a long time now: when do you see Aizawa do that?
I know the Final Exam arc is supposed to show us that, yes, Aizawa is perceptive and does notice things about his students, and does care, but that's shit. His inner monologue tells us about Momo and her lack of self confidence. The implication of that, that he's only dealing with this now, means he's been sitting on this for... how long? However long he noticed that, I guess? So, from a time period ranging between the first day of class, and just before they prepared for the test, Aizawa noticed Momo had confidence issues and apparently did nothing until that test, probably because he wanted to be 'efficient' and deal with two things at once. Why do extra work and deal with a student's issues, when you can do it while they struggle to pass their final exams? Wow. A+ job there, teach.
On Shoto... just... just no. Come back to me, someone, anyone, when Aizawa even acknowledges that that mess is made out of red flags: the fact he doesn't use half of his goddamn Quirk until Izuku beats some self reflection into him. The fact he unsubtly hates his father. The fact he doesn't seem to know how to be a normal person. The burn scar on his face when he's heat resistant. Anything. Anything. I don't expect him to look at the kid and magically realized he's abused, but there's enough there that if he's a good teacher, or councilor, or whatever, he should probably be low key probing for information on his situation, see if there's something wrong in the most general of senses, because there's clearly something wrong there.
Literally anything about Izuku or Bakugou, though I'm putting a pin on discussing that mess until later.
See, the problem with saying that Aizawa is supposed to be the class's... councilor or something, instead of a teacher, brings up the fact that he's a shit councilor. Even if it's true (I'm not Japanese, I have no idea), this doesn't make his character better, this just brings up different problems instead.
Alright, so now that that's out of the way... now I need to point out that Aizawa is a Kakashi clone, and that's a good deal of the reason he's so popular; he rode off Naruto nostalgia. Let's list off how many traits he blatantly got from him. It's more than you think!
Aizawa is like Kakashi in that: he's a teacher that doesn't want to teach, his students include the Great Hope of the setting and his 'rival', he's traumatized from a friend dying when he was young, he deals with his heavy PTSD with unhealthy coping mechanisms, he has an eye based power that turns his eyes red, he loses an eye, he takes on an apprentice that reminds him of himself and gives him his signature technique/equipment, his dead best friend is alive, his dead best friend is the enemy, his dead best friend has been heavily experimented on, his dead best friend has warping powers, his friend group consists of people more cheerful than him who respect his skills, his best friend is overwhelmingly cheery in a way that balances with his low key behavior.
...When you list it out like this, it starts to get a little nuts, doesn't it? I wonder, sometimes, how much actual thought went into the character Eraserhead, and how much was Hori just... copying the copy ninja.
Here's the problem with that though, beyond the laziness of it all: Kakashi is a ninja. He is a mercenary, a child soldier, has killed more people than we have names for in all of MHA. He lives in a military village, under a military dictatorship, and is expected to kill. The teaching system he's part of is largely involuntary, though he avoids in in part because he's so good that everyone looks the other way when he ducks out of it. These students are also ten. There is just... just so much there, so much that is utterly alien to how MHA works, that putting a copy in is... flawed, to say the least.
That's why the Bell Test Quirk Apprehension Test is so bad: Hori put that in, as a blatant echo of Kakashi testing Team Seven, without thinking once of the differences in the setting.
He's in a school, and his job is being a teacher. His literal, actual ass job is to teach students (or 'help guide them', either way). This is something he chose to do, of his own volition. Kakashi trying to ditch his potential students is him trying to avoid an unwanted burden and him avoiding poking at this massive issues with teammates and responsible and everyone he knows and loves dying around him. And when he's forced to take some on? He tries his best to teach them, and he does: think about the first Battle of the End. The way Naruto and Sasuke fought each other. Think about how Naruto used to fight. Where did he learn to throw a punch like that? Kakashi. He may show up late, but the man did his work off screen.
Aizawa trying not to teach his students is literally a man too fucking lazy to do his own job. We all know Hori retconned it with 'he just wanted them to get a taste of death' via expulsion (which, apparently in Japanese culture is something that would set them back in their prospects for life) but it's so nonsensical that it's hard to take it seriously that he just... does this. Was planning to do this the first day, because they were excited about being heros, like that deserved a taste of death (They aren't in the military, you ass, they're in high school). Is allowed to do this. That he did this to an entire class for some reason but not Bakugou, when Bakugou exists.
Which means it's time to wade into the mess that is Aizawa and Izuku and Bakugou. Let's start with Bakugou, first, since I already started.
Blatantly, obviously, Bakugou has plot armor in how people react to him, or don't, as the case may be, and one of the worst victims of it is Eraserhead. The fact that Mr. 'Taste of death' and 'Expels entire classes' doesn't at least punt Bakugou into detention, or more likely a 'taste of death' to threaten the other students (because that's how you teach your class of high schoolers! By fear!), after he actively attacks Izuku, is just... mind boggling. The way he constantly refuses to acknowledge which of them is the aggressor, which of them is the first to throw a punch, which one is constantly threatening the other....
The obvious conclusion here is that Aizawa likes Bakugou, for whatever reason, but... I don't think it's true. The thing is if he liked Bakugou, you'd think he'd... spend time with him. Try and train him. Something. But no, by and by large he acts like Bakugou doesn't exist, right until Hori needs someone to compliment him for the readers, or someone to defend him after he does something bad, yet again, and then all of a sudden he's singing his praises. This is where the downsides of being The Favored Mouthpiece comes in: every time he's complimented Bakugou, every time he's said that this mess of a child is going to be a great hero, every time he cries desperately that he, 'Still needs to be Number One!' or whatever the hell that bullshit was? That was Hori. That was always Hori. Aizawa basically isn't allowed to exist near Bakugou without Hori running interference for him.
Izuku, on the other hand, is half the opposite, half Aizawa's own biases coming in. Part of it is Hori needs Izuku to feel stressed to pump up the tension, make cliffhangers, and get Jump selling; Izuku can't have a normal school life, he needs a heart pounding one. In most shonen school settings, this is easy to accomplish because they're generally hell holes that put their students in life and death situations on the regular, and live in hierarchies based off power levels. UA, though? It's a normal, or at least "normal" school, if exceptional, in the "real" world, plus some super powers. There are standards, is the thing; they can't and won't send their students off to maybe die because of they're a secret society or whatever. They have accountability (to some extent) to the general public, in other words.
So where does Izuku's cliffhanger filled school life come from? Well, Tomura and the Tomura-ettes, for one, but for all the other times... Hori turned to his teacher.
Let me say this again, because I want to emphasis this: part of the reason Aizawa exists as he does, is so that Izuku can feel threatened at school by his teacher. Why? Because Izuku's suffering sells.
Meanwhile, though Izuku does get pulled into Bakugou's plot armor sometimes, and suffers for it (more), but as a person and a character, I think Aizawa unironically disliked Izuku from the start. He grows out of it, to some extent, but....
Let's backtrack a second, back to the Quirk Test. Izuku, at this point, is ripped. Even without his Quirk, he was throwing around fridges and working all day and night to prep for UA. He was at the peak of realistic human fitness, instead of whatever increasing soft cap we have for heroes is.
Toru is invisible. Sure, she's in shape, since she passed the exam, but Izuku clearly focused on his body in a way most of the other students aren't, and she has no Quirk that'd help her pass the test (a test that, as many have pointed out, Aizawa would have failed). She's a nice girl, sure, but there's no way she could have out performed Izuku in raw physical ability, even before the ball throw which was one of the best of that category, and far beyond whatever she could have done.
Yet Izuku was the one at the bottom, not Toru. Why? Well, you could blame Hori, and that's technically true, but the thing is, unlike Bakugou, Aizawa acts like he doesn't like Izuku. He blames him for everything, he refuses to do anything as he breaks his bones constantly, he calls him Problem Child, and anyone who thinks that's affectionate, and that Izuku should as such, and that it's a cute little nickname needs to consider that through the lenses of Izuku's low self esteem, much less from a teacher who constantly threatens his students.
Aizawa sabotaged Izuku's scores. He did it because, you're right: he's just like the teachers at Aldera, if more restrained, and for different reasons. Not because Izuku is Quirkless (though he would if Izuku was, because the man honestly is Quirkist), but because he has the wrong Quirk. Because Izuku had the audacity to come to a school to learn about how to use his Quirk, instead of practicing it illegally, or inside his own house where, at that power level, one wrong move could accidently his house. Because he apparently didn't read the files that said Izuku got it a month ago, or didn't care. Or maybe it's just he looked at Izuku, and realized that having him learn to control that was just... too much work?
At the end of the day, which reason he did it doesn't even matter. What matters is he did. The same way he plays constant mind games with his students for shits and giggles, in ways that should undermine their faith in him, the same way he paired a bully with his victim so they could 'work it out', the same way he puts minimal effort into so much of the work he does, and it's why I loathe him as a teacher.
Aizawa is a good hero, but the moment Nezu let him into a school was a mistake.
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ihni · 8 months
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🌟Writer Appreciation🌟
When you get this show of our five of your favorite fics and five fics you like from other writers then send this to at least one other person.
(Since I was also tagged by @sanguine-tenshi to post my five favorite fics that I've written, I'm gonna smash'em together, because I don't wanna be too self-centered!)
My (current) five favorite fics that I've written (in no particular order): 1. Baby steps (a tumblr post that grew) 2. Taking Notes (bodyswap; longest fic I've written) 3. Birthday boy (made the most people cry, MUAHAHAA!) 4. Every weather is sweater weather in Hawkins (feelgood) 5. Over the edge (guilty pleasure, most fun to write)
And then about the five fics from other people ... you know what, let's make this interesting! I'm gonna rec SMUT, since you poor followers never ever get that, with my own writing XD (and since it's a rare, rare occurrance, let's do TEN): 1. On Billy by @sanguine-tenshi (because I just re-read it yesterday) (Billy&the basketball team basically, filthy filthy filthy, with a fantastic bonus non-smutty third chapter that I really enjoyed) 2. Mine Again by youllneverrecme (which, obviously I WILL rec you) (Harringroveson, mpreg - which, pregnancies overall freak me out but I'm a big girl and know how to skip the parts that aren't for me - and I really enjoyed the dynamics between the three in this) 3. this ain't a love song by @brawlite and @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (Harringrove, college au, drinking, King Steve comes out to play) 4. ¿Por qué no los dos? by @robthegoodfellow (Harringroveson, ARO BILLY!! Fantastic to be reading aro ANYONE honestly, especially in a ship and with smut! A+ Love this) 5. Feeding Your Hunger by @weird-an (Harringroveson, and I just love this dynamic they've got going on) (Also honorary mention to Clutching Pearls, which I recently re-read and was so enamored by the thought of Billy in a pearl necklace that I forgot it had fisting in it XD) 6. brainless by shippertrash140109 (Harringrove, through Jonathan's eyes. One of the earliest smutty fics I enjoyed reading. So prettily written!) 7. Secrets make this town by Oop (@thingsalexwrites I think) (Harringrove + Hopper. This is so surprisingly sweet and feels romantic, admist all the fucking) 8. The Stolen Sapphire by @billyharringson (Harringroveson, very obsessive and unhealthy probably but SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN) (honestly, anything by Jad3w1ings is bound to be good, I'm also very into Forged so far but that's not done so it doesn't get the MAIN rec :p) 9. .。❅*⋆⍋* Warm Nights at Frosty Heights *⍋⋆*❅。. by @bouncypickle (Will never not rec this. The most romantic and unproblematic smut you ever did see. Feelgod fic, with smut.) 10. Smell of Apples by @neonponders (Harringrove, Steve is a demon and Billy's a man of the Church. It's exactly what you think it is, but better. Plus, apple pie mention! Oh, and the most savage line ever; "We're older than your god". Love.)
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otakusheep15 · 1 year
Text
The Obey Me fandom is back at it again lol
This is probably the longest post I've ever made, and I honestly don't know why it got so long to begin with. As a brief summary, someone on Reddit insulted Levi, talking about how he's a creep and no one would like him if he existed irl, and they said we need to raise out standards. However, they didn't ever mention how none of the brothers would be good people irl. Also, this is a fictional game with fictional characters who aren't real to begin with, so all of their argument is kind of invalid. And this is my response. The Reddit post is under the cut in paragraph two.
For those of you who want to know, the full post (excluding these two) is a total of about 15 paragraphs. Some are longer than others, but most of them are pretty decent lengths. I know not many people will read the whole thing through, and I get that. If you go to the Reddit post, most people in the comments do a better job of making these arguments in fewer words, so I'd recommend that if you'd prefer.
Update: they deleted the post, but you can still see the comments, so you can have a basic idea of what was said.
So, basically, I saw a Reddit post about Leviathan. Now, for those of you who don't know, Levi is my favorite Obey Me character, so I was naturally interested in this thread. The original post was about how no one would like Leviathan if he wasn't a hot anime boy. Like, if he weren't conventionally attractive, most people would see him as a pervert, a creep, and a weirdo. Then, the post ended with saying that we should raise our standards if we like Leviathan.
Full link here if you wanna take a look for yourself. Most of the comments on that post kind of said what I'm about to say now, so if you don't wanna read all of this post, I highly recommend reading some of the comments, as they do a good job of explaining most of my points.
Anyways, this whole post just completely misses the point of not only Levi's character, but the entire Obey Me game as a whole. The OP specifically goes and attacks Levi for his personality, but, in reality, if any of the brothers were real people or not conventionally attractive, they would be some of the worst, most hated people I can think of. All of them have their own red flags and bad personality traits, but that's part of the fun. The game is a form of escapism that shows us idealized versions of these people that would usually give most people major icks. I'm gonna go over just a few of my own personal icks with each character just to give y'all some examples, but just know that I'm not attacking anyone's fave, I'm just trying to make a point.
Lucifer has a very dominating personality. He acts like he's the most important one in the room, and he does his best to control you, the player. In a few interactions with him, you're not given the option to say no to his advances, and it makes me (and some others) uncomfortable. Plus, he has this whole thing about how he fully believes we can't love anyone more than we love him, which is a weird mentality. If Lucifer were real, he would be seen as one of those creepy guys who try and manipulate you into a relationship and then fully expects you to listen to whatever he says at all times. That's not attractive, that's creepy and a major red flag, at least from my perspective.
Mammon is way too overprotective of the player. Whenever we try and interact with one of his brothers and/or another character, he constantly cockblocks us and forces out of a romantic interaction. In real life, this behavior would be a red flag on so many levels, and it would just be seen as downright possessiveness. That level of possessiveness is not attractive. Not to mention, Mammon has a major money problem. He's constantly in debt and gambling all of his money away. He has a straight up addiction to gambling and spending money, and that is not healthy. Plus, he always seems to have beef with someone over money, and it's usually us or one of his brothers who has to bail him out of it. That's not attractive, and no one in real life would want to date someone with this much trouble with money.
Since Levi was the main focus of the Reddit thread, I'm going to skip him for now and come back later because I have some points I'd like to make.
Satan has severe anger issues, and I think we all know how well that translates into a relationship in real life. He very easily has the chance to become an abuser of some kind, especially a violent one. Not to mention, Satan has horrendous amounts of daddy issues, and that's all he can talk about half the time. These two things are a terrible combination, and it would not work out well in real life. If Satan ever got angry at a partner, who knows what he could do to them. He also has a bad habit of bringing in stray cats without any warning. These cats could have diseases, they could be violent, or they could be someone else's cat entirely. But he'll refuse to part with the cat, and it'll be pretty hard to get him to let it go. This last part is more speculation than anything, but he also seems like the manipulative type. Like, he's very intelligent, and he seems like he has the ability to easily manipulate someone if he wanted.
Asmodeus is very flirtatious, and he flirts with a lot of people. Look, I love Asmo so very much, and I will defend him with my life, but I'm making this point because it's necessary to my argument. Asmo would be a cheater in real life. He'd be a huge cheat, or, at the very least, he's want some kind of open relationship. Now, I'm not bashing on open relationships. However, I don't think Asmo would effectively communicate properly enough to have a healthy open relationship. He'd go out without telling you, hook up with people without telling you, and I could even see him try setting you up with other people without your permission. Not to mention, he's famous, and he has a lot of fans. Sometimes, he puts those fans first instead of you, and that can make anyone jealous. Not to mention, he has a habit of being very vain and attention seeking. he also prioritizes himself above all else, including you. He always compliments you, but then ends it with something along the lines of "but you're still not as cute as me," and ruining the whole compliment. This type of guy in real life would been as a playboy and a self-centered asshole, and no one wants someone like that.
Beelzebub eats way to much, and he's constantly running down his family's food supply. He also has a habit of spending way too much money, but it's usually food-centered. Again, this is just mere speculation, but Beel also seems like the type to be rude to waiters if they mess up his order or don't have a certain food he wants. It's already canon that he has pretty bad anger issues, and sometimes they can even rival Satan's, so it isn't much of a stretch to believe he would get angry at wait staff for something like this. Honestly, I can't think of many other icks I have with him, and he seems like one of the least problematic brothers to me, but feel free to talk about your own Beel icks if you have any.
Lastly, Belphegor literally killed us. Like, yeah, most of the brothers have threatened to kill us or have come close at some point, but Belphie actually succeeds. And, in real life, if you die, you don't come back, so Belphie is already the worst one in real life. But, let's move past that. He is so lazy to the point where he refuses to get out of bed half the time. He's constantly falling asleep in the most random of places, and it is downright impossible to wake him up sometimes. Plus, he also tries to drag us down with him, thereby keeping us from being productive and missing important events. Belphie is also the youngest child, so he's been spoiled his whole life and just automatically assumes everything he wants should be given to him without him working for it. For the record, I'm not saying every youngest child is like this, but Belphie certainly is. He can also be quite the manipulative guy, using his youngest privilege to pretend like he's all innocent and whatnot.
So, yeah, overall, all of the brothers easily have their own icks that would make them terrible in real life. However, I do want to circle back to Leviathan. I will admit, just like his brothers, Levi does have his own icks I would dislike in real life, but the one's OP brings up aren't even icks. They're traits that most introverted people have, not to mention Levi is heavily autistic coded and has many traits that line up with how people with autism act.
Their first point is that the way Levi talks about idol groups is creepy or weird. They then cite a quote from him complaining about how an idol group he likes that's known for being cute suddenly dropped a new music video that looks much sexier. Then OP says that Levi has not right to get mad over what an idol group chooses to do. However, Levi has every right to get mad. In fact, most people get mad whenever a group they like decides to change directions in some way. I mean, we all saw what happened when One Direction broke up. And, if you actually look at how Levi reacts, it's really not that extreme of a reaction. With how OP treats his words, you'd think he did something horrible like go online and spread hateful and misogynistic words about the group like so many creepy otaku men tend to do. But, Levi doesn't do that. He's simply just expressing his dislike of this new route to a friend. That's a very healthy way to express negative feelings, and he's doing it well. He even says that he's still gonna support the group and just see where it goes from there. He does nothing creepy or weird at all in this interaction.
And right after that, they bring up the fact that this is a fictional game. Their exact words are "I know this is all fictional and whatever..." and the ngo on to say something else. With that one phrase, they completely contradict their own argument. The whole point is that this is a fictional game with fictional characters. Levi isn't real, and none of the others are real, so there's really no point in getting hung up in their personalities like this. The only reason I did was to show that none of them are perfect and we shouldn't target just one without taking the others into account as well.
Then they say that no one would be gushing over him if he were real and that he's cringy, creepy, and weird. However, most of his traits are just those of an introverted, autistic person with bad social skills. He likes anime and video games, and he likes talking about those interests and interacting with his fandoms. Yes, he lacks a filter, but that's not creepy, that's just bad social skills. Hell, I tend to lack a filter because I have trouble reading the room sometimes. I am both introverted and mentally ill, but no one would call my behavior creepy or cringy. I just have trouble socializing, just like Levi. If he were real, he would just be an awkward guy who needs help figuring out social cues. He's not as creepy or perverted as people make him out to be, especially compared to characters like Lucifer, Asmo, and even Mammon at some points.
Finally, they end their argument with saying that if he weren't pretty or an LI, he would be the most hated character in the game. Except, he already kind of is, because this is how most people tend to think already. Many people fail to understand that lots of Levi's traits are just him being social awkward and autistic. If fact, he rarely even pervs on the player because he's too shy, meaning we have to initiate most of the more heated scenes because he won't do it himself. He's not a perv, he just lacks a filter sometimes.
And, honestly, this whole paragraph they stuck at the end: "Also: I’m well aware that ppl already think he’s creepy, but this is addressing those who excuse it all because he’s pretty, or loves you. Like please raise your standards. Also your free to have your own taste in men, this is not to make fun of people who like Levi. This is about levi himself, and if he looked totally different, things would not be how they are now." was just straight garbage. If we raise our standards for one, shouldn't we raise them for all? Meaning we wouldn't like any of them because they're all terrible.
Sorry this was so long, and thank you to anyone who stuck around and read it all (probably no one). I just get really mad whenever someone comes after Levi like this.
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luninosity · 8 months
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! Tagged by @estrellami-1 - thank you, my dear! <3 Let's see, fanfic specifically, not original works, I imagine...well, I've got a lot! The question is, which... Okay, these are just my personal favs, not even necessarily the ones I think might be the best-written, and I'm also excluding co-authored fic because that would be a very different list! (For one thing, Amateur Cartography, with Reg....) 1. straight from your heart (Stucky) - lots of people seem to like this one (thank you!) and I do too - I love recovering!Bucky stories, I loved the premise (it was written for a fest prompt), and I love the idea of Steve and Bucky working out what they want to incorporate, and play with, and reclaim, as far as identities (and, okay, some kink; it's me!). 2. Like Sugar (Evanstan; series) - okay, this is probably cheating because it's a whole series, but I can't separate them! This might be the thing people know me for most, maybe, and it was at the time the longest and most detailed story I'd ever written, and one of those that was (mostly) easy to write - words and scenes just turned up and flowed. I sometimes go back and reread my writing and am honestly impressed by myself. I do love this whole giant thing. 3. tempt me, tease me (leave me breathless) & (baby won't you please) run your fingers through my hair (both Evanstan, both sort of gentle kink) - okay, this is also kind of cheating, because they're two separate stories - except they're sort of linked, in my head? They have vaguely similar premises, about Chris discovering some things about Seb's preferences, and love confessions, and kink, and comfort, and...I don't know, they just have a similar 'feel' to my writer-brain. They both have specific lines that I've put on "top ten favorite sentences I've written" lists before, and I love my writing at this point. 4. never mind the why and wherefore (Johnny Storm/TJ Hammond Fantastic Four/Political Animals no-powers AU crossover) - this is an odd random one but I genuinely love it! In the category of "stories I never expected to write"...and then friends made me think about it...and then suddenly it practically wrote itself and I had 45k of story. One of the best and most unexpected and consequently wonderful writing experiences I've ever had, plus of course TJ deserves all the happiness! 5. Know That It's True (Cherik, X-Men: First Class era) - pulling out a real old-school one: this was my first-ever X-Men fic! Well, to be fair, that depends on how you count - it's the first one I started writing, but then I stopped and wrote and finished something else short, and then went back to this one! These days my writing style has evolved a bit, and there're some things I'd do differently - but the sheer sense of fun to it, the absolute joy, the "oh gosh YES" rush of feels while writing, posting, being so nervous about it as a new(ish) writer...oh, I love it. And I tumbled into so many communities and friendships and fan events and fests and, oh, the shared love - really, without this, I don't know where I'd be. So that's always got to be on a list of favorites. *hugs you all* Tagging people, oh, let's see... @musette22 @significantowl @ninemoons42 @thebestpersonherelovesbucky @rozf and anyone else who wants to! love you!
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dabislilbaby · 9 months
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤
Two ppl actually tagged me in this so thank you @malewifetouya and @happyely 🖤🖤🖤
Sadly some of my most favorite projects are ones that are still sitting in my drafts unfinished 😭 but out of all the ones I've posted these are the ones I'm most proud of <3
"Come Home" — Deku:
I don't even know if this would be considered a fic?? Cuz honestly this was such a short little thing that I wrote in under like 15 minutes 😭 probably the shortest amount of time it's taken me to ever write literally anything. But it was after I watched S6 E136 and literally that night I had a dream where this whole scene was played out in my head. And it just felt so dramatic in the right ways and just raw emotion that I had to write it down. And it's STILL my most liked post on this entire blog😭 but honestly understandable bc sometimes I go back and read it and I'm just like "damn wait I wrote that????" lmfaoo
"Only for you, Toshi" — Shinsou:
Completely opposite from the last one, this is actually the longest thing I've ever written. (that's posted anyway, there's a few longer still in my drafts) I just feel like Shinsou doesn't get enough love but he definitely deserves it😭❤️ all my friends that read it said they really enjoyed it and I'm just really happy with how it came out after working on it for a couple weeks, and that not touching it for a few months and then coming back to it only to finish it in like 2 days lmao
"Attention" — Dabi:
Now this wouldn't be a post about my fics if I didn't include something for my absolute favorite character in the entire show🖤 this fic was very self indulgent bc I'm such a brat🤭 and I'm convinced that Dabi is the king of brat taming. Fun fact, the outfit I described is something I literally own in my closet 😂
"Secrets" — BakuDeku x reader [UNFINISHED]:
This is a multi-part series I'm co-writing with my bsf @haru-x-ren on a joint account we made. (@bunny-x-haru if you'd like to follow) it's currently still a work in progress with only a few parts released, but it is a continuation of a 2 part fic I wrote when I first started called "You're the Only Thing That Makes Sense" — Bakugo So I do recommend reading this one first before Secrets for context and background info. I feel like you can really see my growth in writing from then to now, cuz that was like literally the second thing I ever posted lol. And Haru was literally my biggest fan bc he's the one that got me into writing fanfic<3 so after he read it, he had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea (spoiler) to take the scene I wrote where bakugo and deku were caught fighting after school hours (similar to that scene from season....2? When Bakugo learned about OFA) and turn it into a BakuDeku love triangle and I was honestly obsessed with the idea
And lastly
"For Your Eyes Only" — Dabi:
Another one for my fav<3 this one was for his birthday and is very nasty🤭 also with a little bit of fluff at the end bc I am indeed a hopeless romantic with no romance🥲 also, the cover photo is most definitely the reaction I was imagining when he walks into the room lmao
Side Note:
I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing and I am so sorry 😭 I guess I've just been in a little bit of a funk when it comes to my creativity lately. I mean I've got plenty, and I do mean PLENTY of ideas written down, but Im having a hard time executing them and turning them into something I can post. But I promise I'll get back to posting as soon as I can and I'm really sorry to everyone who has been waiting for stuff😭 I appreciate your patience❤️
Here's 5 other writers I recommend<3
@cathwritestragediesnotsins @aquadenks @kemakoshume @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic + any other writers who'd like to make ur own posts<3
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