Tumgik
#teacher student relationship tw
merakiui · 1 year
Note
We love teacher!character/Teacher's Assistant!character x reader, so let's hear your thoughts on teacher!reader/TA!reader x student!character
(cw: yandere, slight nsfw, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping, pregnancy, stalking, one-sided teacher-student relationship)
Azul who knocks up his professor during one of the times he’s visiting for office hours. It’s something regarding a scholarship opportunity or maybe he’s talking to you about a career path he’s thinking of pursuing. Whatever the case, he’s so infatuated with you. He’s at the top of your class, always excelling in everything he does. He’s a model student, so intelligent and on top of his academics. He’s always bringing you coffee each morning. Some say it’s to get within your good graces. When you take the coffee from him, you think nothing of it. But then you’re losing the feeling in your limbs and you feel so sleepy and weak and so strangely insatiable… Azul smiles at you, asks, “Is everything all right, Professor?” You can’t even answer, but maybe you don’t have to when he’s unbuckling his belt, the door now shut and locked tight. He has you right where he wants you. :)
Or the twins tormenting you beyond the campus. You’ve always been so good to them, their cute, diligent professor. Floyd didn’t mean to scare you when he broke into your home late at night, and Jade only wishes to cook you a nice dinner. After all, they have to return the favor for when you brought them meals when they were “struggling” to get by (or so you thought; they’re liars, those eels…).
Riddle who’s taken to stalking his professor. He’s not sure what compels him to do it. He finds a certain intimacy in knowing you beyond the classroom. He’s bad at taking covert photos of you because his hands are always shaking, but even if he’s managed to get one clear photo of your face that’s all that matters. He looks up your professor profile on his university’s website and masturbates to the profile picture of you in professional wear and smiling so kindly. He’s down so bad. >_< he signs up for all of your classes even if they have nothing to do with his major.
Idia who’s hacked into your phone and laptop to watch you from the comfort of his room. He’s seen you at your most intimate, and he always makes sure to take plenty of video and audio recordings for his own enjoyment. He may or may not occasionally make lewd sketches of you just to fulfill his own fantasies. He might even look for hentai characters that remind him of you so he can pretend it’s you getting railed by tentacles or a monster-sized sex toy. If he catches you with a partner while stalking you, the illusion of fantasy shatters and he becomes quite upset. How dare you like someone else?
Silver is such a sweet, honest student, so it’s quite shocking to think he could ever harbor such an intense obsession. Even Silver doesn’t realize just how badly he loves you until he’s following you from a distance just to make sure you make it home safely. He does everything for the sake of your well-being, even if it falls under a rather dubious umbrella. Silver dreams of you often, and every time he wakes from such good dreams he’s disheartened to find it isn’t reality. Oh, how he wishes he could fuck you and fall asleep with his dick still inside you, keeping you plugged full of his cum… :( one day it’ll be a reality. Hopefully. Until then, he’ll watch you from afar.
431 notes · View notes
actuallysaiyan · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 19: Cockwarming(In my heart, I have but one desire...)
Tumblr media
warnings/kinks: Student-teacher relationships, slight age gap, cockwarming, slight exhibitionism, slight blackmailing, smut word count: 0.7k pairings: Professor!Gohan x Student!Fem!Reader teaser: “Care to explain this?” He asks, waving the test in your face. Your bottom lip quivers a little, “I’m so sorry. I just… I had a hard time with the test material.” taglist: @beneathstarryskies @loki-love @witchofcustom. @dreadsuitsamus. @pyrofanatic. @butterflieskeepcominback
Tumblr media
He watches you from his desk, a mean look on his face. You know you’re in a lot of trouble, but you really never expected it to get to this extent. You wring your hands nervously behind you as you wait for him to address you. You have to look away when his stern eyes lock with yours.
“Do you have any idea why I called you into my office, miss?” Gohan asks, finally looking down at his papers. 
You shake your head, “N-no…I don’t know why, professor Gohan.”
Tumblr media
He smirks at you, but that’s quickly replaced with a very stern look on his face. He shows you your latest test and it’s not a good score at all. You were clearly much too distracted by something to be able to focus. And Gohan knows exactly what was distracting you.
“Care to explain this?” He asks, waving the test in your face.
Your bottom lip quivers a little, “I’m so sorry. I just… I had a hard time with the test material.”
A sarcastic laugh falls from his lips, “Is that so? I think I know exactly what the issue is.”
He gets up from his desk and he towers over you. You feel so trapped in here all of a sudden. You’re not really sure where this will lead, but you’re really hoping you won’t end up getting expelled. You truly wanted to finish your degree, but you had never expected one of your professors to be so sexy.
“I know I’m a distraction, miss. It’s written all over your face whenever you’re in my class.” Gohan explains, crossing his arms across his chest.
You frown, “Professor Gohan, sir…I didn’t mean it! I can make it up!”
He considers your words before grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you forward. You nearly crash right into his perfectly sculpted chest. You look into his eyes, a pleading look behind your own.
“If you’re so desperate to make up for it, I have some options for you.”
You nod your head, so eager to please your professor. You want to make sure he’s going to be taking you seriously and that he knows you want to finish up your degree. But when his proposition hits your ears, you’re taken aback.
“You can either stay behind in class every afternoon and help me grade these papers and learn a thing or two from your peers, or…you can sit on my cock while I grade them.”
You nearly faint from these words. He can’t be serious right now, can he? You look at him, red in the cheeks. He laughs at your reaction to his proposal. He knows you’re more than likely going to chicken out, but you shock him when you say you’ll sit on his cock.
And that’s how you ended up with his fat cock so deep inside of you as he grades the rest of the tests. Whenever you whine or try to move, he slaps your thigh harshly and reminds you that this is indeed a punishment and not a reward. You can’t help but grip against his cock, shuddering rhythmically as your cunt pulses. It’s much too good for you to consider it a true punishment.
Gohan, on the other hand, can’t believe you were so quick to agree to this. He knew you had a crush on him, but he didn’t think you’d be so willing to have this kind of relationship with him. He knows he’ll probably have you on his cock a lot more often than just the one time. Especially when he’s considering bumping up your grade if you continue this for the rest of the week. He can’t deny that having your tight, wet heat wrapped around his throbbing cock is just another benefit to him.
Once he’s done grading the papers, he holds you back against his chest and he begins to look for more work to do. Gohan realizes how much he feels motivated to finish up work with his cock buried deep inside a tight cunt.
“Remember,” He says as he nips at your neck. “If you’re a good girl and you come do this with me every afternoon for the rest of the week, I’ll bump your grade from a D to a B-,”
How could you refuse such a good offer?
165 notes · View notes
dearestxiao · 2 months
Text
the color blue: neon [part 2] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader
Tumblr media
synopsis: the days until you finally meet your penpal has been ticking by so quickly, but with a new tutor, a clingy roommate, and a professor who seems to only want the worst for you, it's hard to keep track of time. WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, yandere characters, creepy xiao is creepy (lots of potentially uncomfortable thoughts from his perspective), heavily implied stalking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub-con touching, student-teacher dynamic, age gap (reader is 21+ and zhongli is 27+, feel free to adjust as need be). let me know if I need to add anything! reader is gender neutral.
wc: 10.7k
author notes: I wanted to first say thank you for the wait, and I hope that everybody is able to enjoy the changes and edits I’ve made to the story. I also wanted to say thank you to the mutuals who had helped me create the original version of the story. it has been a long time since then, and I’m not entirely sure if they’re still active (OTZ), so I’m not sure if they would still like to be tagged but I am forever grateful to them. this is the last exposition heavy chapter, as well as my last read edit/re-upload of a chapter, so the next few chapters will be much meatier with new content!!! again, thank you so much for the wait. love you all! as always, reblogs are very appreciated if enjoyed and if possible!
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1]
Tumblr media
dark content. minors do not interact. do not repost/link.
Tumblr media
from xiao's room, there's a perfect view of the town a bit away from campus that greets him everytime he steps inside. it's a gorgeous sight, which is something he could admit, even though he didn’t choose the place himself, one anyone would be grateful for. the town is bright and bustling even still, and it’s only now starting to dim down. it’s getting late into the night, with flashy lights and beautiful architecture and homey buildings, and so many people, people, people.
there are still families on an outing, and cute couples going on dates. shop owners sweeping around their store. he can see as the everyday salaryman walks back home, accompanying the students on their own way home from classes; he can see so many lives being lived from his isolated little tower.
and yet, on nights like these, no matter how enchanting the view, xiao usually prefers to keep his blinds tightly shutー out of sight, out of mind. jealousy is a vile thing, isn't it? it's nasty, tainting your view of the world, of the things you love. after the first few weeks after xiao had moved in, the view quickly lost the charm it once had. because at the end of the day, to him, the view only serves as a cruel reminder of just how alone xiao is and always has been.
it dangles around a painful reminder of the things xiao can never have. it's so close, yet so far out of reach.
but despite his usual bitterness, xiao doesn’t bother closing the blinds tonight, because tonight, he has hope, hope that he could one day be like the many walks of life he sees everyday from his apartment window. hope that he’ll have something worth wondering about.
xiao sits himself on his bed, the second biggest source of comfort in his life right now. for some reason, he feels awfully nervous. he knows why, but he can’t help but wish that awful feeling away. for a split second, he can’t help but wish he was as confident and fearless as... no. he won’t think like that, not right now, at least. he shakes away the thought. butterflies jitter all up and around his stomach as his shaky hands picks up his phone and dials numbers, your numbers. the digits are already memorized by heart.
he tries to calm his nerves as he presses the phone up to his ear after hitting the call button, nails digging into the pajamas he changed into when he got home. he thickly swallows, waiting as patiently as he can, like usual.
ring. rinnng. rinnnnnggg. 
it doesn't take too long for you to pick up.
"hello?" he finally hears.
it's only one word (and a pretty basic one at that), but xiao can already hear the soft underlying shyness of your voice. his mouth naturally opens a little agape. you've always been nervous around those you weren't close to. your voice sends him into a state of bliss, so much so his brain is too foggy to reply until you coo out another hello, questioning if anyone is there on the other line due to the silence.
he almost has to force himself to speak "It's… xiao," he blinks, not even saying hello back, "from professor zhongli's class," xiao almost slips up by saying the name you know him much better by. “you… we spoke on the train. I don’t know if you remember,” he manages to stutter out.
you had seemed pretty out of it when you two talked earlier that very same day. you must’ve been so exhausted to have fallen asleep like that, right next to him. he’s still replaying the site of it over and over, the way you were struggling so hard to stay awake, head bobbing back and forth. it was probably embarrassing for you, but it was a pleasant sight for him. the soft puff of your cheeks and the furrow of your brows, the shallowness of your breath and how relaxed you looked. it made him feel like a creep, staring at you in that state, such an intimate state, a vulnerable state. 
it’s why he had held back as long as he could before finally tapping you awake, wanting to bask in the precious sight for longer.
he snaps back to finally finish his explanation, “…you gave me your number earlier today," he says it less as a reminder to you, but instead as a reminder to himself. he bites his lip, waiting for you to respond, wishing he could see what you looked like right now.
in the meantime, he remembers how your eyes had begrudgingly opened back up at the feeling of him touching you. he remembers the warmth of your body that felt like it could melt his finger tips from the heat. he wishes he could see and feel both much more often, but xiao is patient. lord, is he patient.
he remembers how embarrassed you looked as you sat up in your seat, trying to reorient yourself. “sorry, what did you say?” you finally had spoken after getting settled. you must’ve been too frazzled to hear him the first time. he cleared his throat before he repeated himself, this time a little louder, a little less shy than the first time around.
“I asked which stop you get off at.” you looked at him with eyes big with confusion. he hoped, desperately (he’s always so desperate), that he hadn’t made you feel anything negative.
he made sure to explain the question in hopes that it made you feel more comfortable and not as confused. “…I can wake you up before you get there, if you’d like.”
despite his wants, he needed to make sure you were safe, and were able to actually get home. if he didn’t ‘protect’ you, who would? definitely not that roommate of yours.
to his (would be short-lived) disappointment you had shaken your head. “no, it’s fine. I really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.” you had paused for a short second before saying, “thank you, though, xiao.” he doesn’t like to remember how he almost shivered at the sound of his name coming from your lips, nor how he had to turn his head as he nodded because he could feel heat creep up it. 
"oh, yes, xiao! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. what can I do for you?"
“you asked on the train if I could tutor you. I wanted to set something up.”
it’s true, even if xiao can’t believe it himself. he knew this day would come, but didn’t expect it to be this soon. after several minutes of silence between you two, (or at least as silent as it could be on a train), you had turned to him, as if remembering something, getting his attention before you asked him something.
“sorry if this is coming out of nowhere. I was wondering if…” you took a breath, and xiao had almost sworn you were bordering scared as you finished your question. “I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me for zhonglis class? I don’t know if you’d be able to, but I spoke to him earlier today, and he recommended asking you for help.”
and of course he had said yes, to your surprise. he remembers thinking, silently, that maybe the universe was rewarding him for being so patient, and he had to keep his cool the best he could. 
now here he is, actually setting something up. “would tomorrow with you?”
"yes!," you let out a nervous little laugh at your uncontrollable excitement. xiao can just picture the smile you have on your face, all shy and awkward and cute. "that would work great, I think. I really wasn't expecting you to set something up so quickly. I'm grateful though."
xiao would make the tutoring session today during the dead of night if he could. of course he would set something up so quickly.
you don't need to know that, though.
xiao hums at your words. "we… we can have our first session at my place, if you're comfortable with that." he realizes he might be coming off too strong, so he adds, "but we can have it somewhere else too." he hopes you agree to the first suggestion though.
"t-that'd be great, yeah. whatever works for you, works for me."
"I'll text you the address and the time, then… and we can discuss more sessions or a schedule and stuff further.”
"that sounds good. thank you so much again." you repeat, and he can hear the relief in your voice. it should be him thanking you, really. 
"of course. goodnight."
“goodnight!” you repeat before you both hang up. a wave of bliss strikes his body.
but he isn’t going to sleep, not yet, atleast. Instead, he’s going to stay up all night, right in front of his window, thinking of all the possible lives he’s about to live.
he’ll make sure to thank zhongli for that in the morning.
ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆
[name]: I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now
[name]: my hands are shaking and everything
alatus: why? is something wrong?
[name]: you know how I told you how I wasn't doing the greatest in one of my courses?
alatus: of course. did something happen?
[name]: the most intimidating guy I've ever met in my life is my tutor now
[name]: and I have no idea how this first session is gonna go
alatus: I think you’ll be fine. you shouldn’t worry yourself
alatus: you should let me know how everything goes.
ーーー☆
xiao's home is, to put it simply, unique.
you were left awestruck as soon as you stepped into the small but gorgeous studio apartment, shocked by both the feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine and the thought of how someone could possibly afford such an apartment, especially as a college student. no matter how xiao manages to afford his place, though, his home daunts over you. 
there's a large window that lines the wall his bed and desk are propped up against and you can't help but imagine just how xiao would look as he looked out of it and at the bustling city. the glass is frosted and wet from the pitter pattering rain that seems to persist in the cool weather of october. it's a little messy, books scattered about here and there and takeout bags littering the table, and the amount of lighting in this room seems to be as minimal (and as cold) as can be, but it's nothing too bad at all. nothing that you could complain about, at least. 
there's so many things inside his house, so many things your eyes are drawn to, like his big bookcase and comfy bed and his expensive computer setup, and yet it feels so... lonely. devoid of life, even. maybe it's the look of the gloomy black walls and the fact that the only lighting xiao has is a tall floor lamp and the light that comes through his window, but you've never seen such a full home feel so empty. no plants except for one little succulent that's looking worse for wear, no photos of friends or family, no bright colors, no pets to breathe life into the place, no companion to help make this house a home. nothing.
you're suddenly grateful you have such a lively roommate.
it's been a few minutes since xiao had let you in, greeting you in his comfy hoodie and baggy pants, hair put up into a messy bun, before attending to something on his computer (an important email you think, or at least something along those likes, something urgent), telling you to sit wherever you'd like and that he'll be with you shortly. you had nodded while leaving your shoes at the door, asking him if his bed would be a seat he's okay with you being on, garnering a hum in response from him.
"...I'll sit here then, since it'll be close to you and stuff," you murmur, admittedly a bit more nervous and unconfident sounding than you'd like. you plop yourself onto xiao's bed, placing your bag at your feet in front of the bed for easy access. xiao takes what's meant to be a quick glance at you, but he's unable to look away.
he knows it's creepy to say, especially when you're just sitting down so innocently, but the sight is better than what he's fantasized about. he's thought of you so many times in his bed, cuddling with him and running your hands through his hair and letting him press kisses into your face and collar bones. he's thought about waking you up with breakfast and how you'd smile and thank him even if he can't cook very well, but he's willing to learn a couple recipes for you. he's thought about laying there with you after a long day, letting you ramble as he listened like he does as alatus. he's thought about how he'd great you once he comes home like you probably do with venti, watching your form as he wait on his bed for him.
and, most of all, he's thought about the way you'd cry and sob and call him a monster once the day that you find out that his bed is now yours and that this apartment is now your home, trapped forever with him, finally comes.
one day you'll be here permanently, he's sure of it. baby steps first, though.
xiao doesn't realize that in the midst of his thinking, he's been absolutely staring you down, and considering that xiao has a naturally viscous (bitchy) looking resting face, you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "xiao? I can... move, if you'd like."
"no, I just..." he clears his throat before looking back at the work in front of him. "sorry, I zoned out for a second. you can stay there if it feels comfortable. whatever you want." the words come out as a sort of awkward, almost inaudible mumble.
is this supposed to be as awkward and tense feeling as it is?
you nod at his words, albeit a little hesitant, further settling into the soft plush of his bed. your brain is still convinced that he might want you to move, but you decide to just stay where you are. you reach down from your seat, pulling out everything you would need from your bag, waiting patiently for any instructions. the soft clicking of xiao's keyboard and the sound of rain hitting against the window fill the otherwise silent room, and honestly, given the atmosphere and the way xiao's room is so dark and cozy and how warm and inviting his bed is, you're tempted to fall asleep.
xiao's presence, though nerve-wracking, makes you feel at home. it feels familiar. you wouldn't mind falling asleep near him again.
but today's (sadly) not the day for resting. xiao finishes whatever he's working on, closing out of the tab and turning his chair to face your spot on the bed. he brushes a piece of his hair back and out of the way, uncovering the eyebrow piercing the bothersome piece had previously hid. his eyes look dead, tired dark circles laying underneath, and yet he still forces himself to speak, like a zombie who simply refuses to just give up and die.
"did you have anything specific in mind that you want to go over?"
you take a second to think, humming in response. zhongli never truly specified what you needed to brush up upon, only that the last few assignments weren't up to his standards, whatever that means. "I don't know. maybe everything from the last few weeks? I'm not so sure."
he too lets out a soft little hum as he thinks for a moment. he's never tutored before, and he's pretty sure he doesn't even have the qualifications to actually be of any sort of help. he makes it up as he goes.
“on the back of your textbook, there's a study guide that covers all the chapters inside." he gently motions for you to give him the book sitting on your lap, flipping to the page before handing it back to you. "I want you to do the questions of the study guide that cover the chapters we've already read in class. then I'll... assess you from there, and we can come up with a plan.”
it seems like a lot of work, and that's because it is. the longer you spend here (the more he can milk this session for everything it's worth), the better.
you nod, moving to get to work immediately, putting your full effort into the task at hand. you both work silently, xiao clicking at his keys alongside the noise of you flipping through the pages of your textbook and jotting answers down. the noises compliment one another well, creating a lingering sense of peace and calm in the air. you find yourself getting stuck on one or two of the questions, but… surprisingly breezing through the rest, and after a while of working, you gently speak his name, alerting him that you've finished. he’s quick to take your work, starting his inspection of it. 
your hands can’t help but get a little clammy as you watch as he reads through your answers, analyzing each and every single written word. in the meantime, you’re doing a little analysis of your own, trying to distract your mind from feeling any more nervous than you realistically should. 
your eyes flick from his messy hair, to the beauty mark almost right in the middle of his forehead, then to the soft dusting of red eyeshadow under his eyes. you look at how he runs a finger against the words on the page, too, almost subconsciously, and though you can’t really tell from this angle what he’s doing, you think he’s more so tracing the letters you’ve written than using it as a means to follow along. he almost looks entranced. you don’t know what to expect from xiao, can’t even guess what he’s thinking, and the furrowed eyebrows on his face definitely don’t make you feel any better. 
you sit there, idley, awkwardly, fidgeting for what seemed like more than just a few minutes, before xiao finally speaks up. 
you can barely hear him as he speaks, his words hushed and muffled. "you... need a lot of brushing up on the content, and your answers… lack good explanations and reasoning." he hands you back your work, sending you an almost sympathetic look. "I can see why zhongli believes you need help,” he adds.
it's a lie, of course, but you don't need to know that, not when zhongli had so delicately laid down the groundwork for all of this to happen in the first place. most of your answers were just fine as is, at least from what he lightly skimmed through.
still, he can't help but feel guilty when that look of embarrassment washes over your face.
for some reason you feel yourself get overwhelmed with emotion. you thought that maybe, just maybe, zhongli was simply just messing with you, as was notorious with the man and his teaching methods. but there's a stark sense of embarrassment that comes from xiao reaffirming what zhongli had said, an embarrassment so strong it sends your entire body ablaze with heat. 
you can't help but awkwardly shift in your seat as you nod along to his words despite the way your head almost feels too heavy to lift, avoiding eye contact lest he sees you so embarrassed over something so... silly, a miniscule problem at best, something fixable with a bit of elbow grease and time, and yet it means way more than it should to you.
you've worked so hard in this class already. why aren't you improving?
he doesn’t let you really catch your breath before he speaks again. "I think we'll need a couple more sessions than we discussed earlier," he mumbles, again, as though too ashamed to speak up, flipping through his own textbook, face in his hand as he thinks. "I want to make sure we can get as much content covered as possible before the end of the semester and catch you back up, since you seem to be..." xiao takes a quick glance at you, and for a moment, just a split second, he sees you, sees inside of you, sees every little thing you've been keeping bottled up, your fear. he looks away, breath hitching out of complete and utter guilt. he forces himself to continue though.
"...behind," he finishes, the single word said notably softer than the rest of the sentence.
xiao forces himself to swallow down his guilt. truly, he feels terrible about lying about this, because you clearly seem to be doing just fine on you own and lord knows how much stress this entire ordeal is causing you, but what's the use of being presented and blessed by the gods themselves with such an amazing opportunity if his sinning hands can't take it out of greed? xiao hates it, but he's always been more of a taker than a giver, taking all he can from people and leaving nothing left of them.
the simple pure utter bliss at the thought of spending hours and hours with you, in his room, alone, intimately and in person instead of just being with you through a phone screen, extinguishes any guilt he could possibly feel.
you, on the other hand, do allow yourself to feel guilt, though it's a feeling that has much more innocent roots than what xiao feels. it's a feeling that pokes and stabs at you as you fumble for words to say. you're a much better person than xiao is in that regard. you can't help but to feel ashamed, ashamed that you were doing so terrible at a course that goes directly into your major that you would have to force xiaoー a man renowned for being a lonerー who surely would rather spend his free time by himself and not tutoring someone so out of your realm and element as you are.
maybe it's not too late after all to consider switching majors, you think.
"you seriously don't have to do that, I don't want to take more time from you than I'm already taking. honestly, I think I'm a bit of a lost cause at this point if I can't even do the simpler questions."
the truth is, not even xiao knows how scared you are. fear and dread soars through your body at the thought of ending up in the same spot you were in last year.
xiao lets out a sigh through his nose at your words, a noise that does nothing other than make you feel worse, especially when you can't read his emotions and tell what's going on in that labyrinth of a brain he has. maybe he's realized that you're not worth spending his time. maybe you really are a loss cause. maybe you really should change your major. maybe you should call it quits and drop out. maybe you should move countries, marry a rich doctor or a lawyer and spend the rest of your days as a glorified housespー
xiao doesn't let you finish your thoughts (plans), instead getting up from his chair slowly. "let's take a break." he says, and while you feel a break is a little undeserved after you haven't done much studying, you nod, thinking it might be best to just relax before jumping back into things. "taking things slowly is the better way to do things," you nod, although the words just barely register themselves in your head. you're surprisingly vulnerable with him.
"I'm... going to step out for a moment to get some air. I'll give you some time for yourself to think." you nod, giving him a small and meek thank you, genuinely so utterly grateful for all the time xiao has given you. you can't help yourself from bothering him just once more before he leaves, though.
"xiao?" you don't look up at him, eyes fixated on your answers and what must've been so wrong with them. you hear him hum, beckoning you to continue.
“do you think I'll be able to pass?”
"of course you will," he answers, and it's the first truth he's said all day.
"of course," he mumbles, this time lower, a reminder to himself of how you'd be completely fine on your own, and that he should never, ever take this opportunity for granted.
he makes a promise to himself that he won't.
----- NEW TEXT MESSAGE -----☆
zhongli: hello, [name]. xiao informed me earlier today that you two will be conducting your first study session today. I'm glad you spoke to him about tutoring like I had advised you to. how are things going?
[name]: it's going fine, he mostly just reaffirmed what you already told me though. but he's been really kind about it all, I'm grateful that he agreed to help me out.
zhongli: I see. I hope that he could give you a new perspective on things and aid you in your weak spots. xiao is an amazing student in his own right, and I'm sure that together, you two will make an amazing team. I'm glad you two are getting along.
zhongli: I'd like to give you a little heads up for a future assignment, but there will be a project upcoming where I'll be sure to partner you two up. I'm sure you two will impress me on what you come up with.
zhongli: I believe in you, [name], and I expect good things coming forward.
zhongli: I'm sure that xiao is grateful as well.
[name]: thank you.
[name]: I hope to meet your standards as best as I can.
-----☆
the apartment is even quieter than it was before without xiao.
it's lonely, too.
in a way, you used this little moment to yourself as a justification and way to figure out just what exactly is the enigma that is xiao. now that you're by yourself, you find yourself looking around at his walls, glancing over at one of the two of his cork boards that seems to have a bunch of what looks to be memorabilia of all sorts, stuff like old music concert tickets of local bands you've never heard of, polaroids with some familiar places and even some of his friends, post-it note scribbles of different tasks he has to get done, among other things.
you visualize yourself looking at the corkboard as though it's those ones in those crime movies, where you're using red yarn to connect the pieces of a story together, figuring out with all the clues you have at your disposal who xiao is.
there's other things, too. posters lining the wall and a singular cat shaped plushie on his bed, a wilted bouquet of flowers in a vase on his kitchen countertop meant for decoration, various little knick knacks on his desk, but the part of his room that catches your eye most, though, is his large, expansive bookshelf filled (a little messily) with a variety of different things, almost all of it stuff you actually recognize.
you’re halfway through looking around before you hear the door open back up again. you instinctually freeze, as of you’re a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. you shift your head, locking eyes with him as he steps back inside. to your surprise, he doesn’t look upset, not even annoyed, just intrigued as he watches you awkwardly shuffle away a little from the bookshelves.
you try to apologize with hast. “sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I swear, I was just–“
xiaos quick to interject as he walks right past you over to sit, this time on his bed instead of at his desk. “it’s fine. I don’t mind. you don’t have to apologize.” he crosses his arms once he’s situated in his seat. “do whatever you’d like.” he adds in an attempt to comfort you.
it sounds sarcastic, but you somehow can tell that it’s not. you nod, taking it as (hoping that it’s) permission to keep going. your eyes move over to the other corkboard near the bookshelves, hoping that you’re not stepping over any boundaries by doing so. this board is filled more with many different photos pinned up onto it. there’s all sorts of sites and places, things like concerts or shops or restaurants or nature– the list goes on– with a rare one or two photos with him actually in it. even rarer seemed to be other people that didn’t look like strangers in the background.
you subconsciously speak a thought aloud. “you seem to go out a lot. to really cool places, too.”
the only thing he really says in response is, “all of those aren’t recent.”
you hum in response, eyebrows furrowing a little as you nod in understanding. “oh, I see.” xiao takes it as an opportunity to ask you something even though he knows the answer already. “what about you? do you go out a lot?”
the question takes you a little aback. “I haven’t gotten out a lot recently either.” you try to think about all you’ve done recently, before realizing there’s nothing much to think about at all. you add, in truth, “…you’re honestly the first person I’ve spent time with in a while that wasn’t my roommate, but I don’t think that really counts.”
he cocks his head to the side at that answer, golden eyes staring at you (almost straight through your soul), intrigued. “why haven’t you spent time with anyone else?
a soft pang hits your heart as you think about the reason. the breakup. despite how much time has gone by, you’re still tender about the topic, and would rather not think about everything it’s caused as a result. would rather not think about him, either.
you let out a nervous laugh. “that’s a long story, I guess.” 
xiao seems dissatisfied with that answer. he’s never responded so quickly, without hesitating before.
“I have time.”
you send a look of slight confusion his way. “I thought we were going to study some more today?”
“right…” xiao let’s a lot of dead air slip in whenever he speaks, pausing and hanging onto words as if he’s doing mental calculations to figure out what the right thing to say next. “…in the future, then.”
you nod as your eye continues it’s adventure through the board before another photo catches your attention fully. it’s a pretty photo of a bunch of people standing near the docks, holding up and letting go of lanterns. it looks like, judging from the date scribbled on the bottom of the photo and the contents of the photo itself, the annual lantern rite from a few years back. you remember that day, almost vividly, too. that was your first year at the school. you and venti had gone together that year. it was magical. it seems like xiao really was never too far from you. seriously, you’re surprised you two haven’t talked sooner.
you can’t help but smile as you reminisce on that day. “I remember this exact lantern rite. there was so many people, and the lanterns were so beautiful. they always are.”
you turn around to face him, again. “how long has it been since you’ve gone to the harbor? if I lived as close as you do, I think I’d go to the harbor whenever I have time.”
it takes awhile for xiao to respond, not because he’s thinking of an answer, but because he’s transfixed on your expression right now. you seem so happy that it naturally just pulls on his heart strings. he’s glad you still remember that particular lantern rite, even though he knows you’ve gone to more since then. xiao remembers that day visibly too, but probably (definitely) not for the same you do. he wonders if you remember that part of it deep inside.
“um… since the day of that photo, probably.”
you’re a little taken aback from that answer. xiao lives on the outskirts of the harbor. how could he have not gone back in years? everything you learn about xiao makes you more and more curious as to who he is. “really?” you can’t help but ask. he can’t help but shrug.
you speak without even thinking twice once more. “would you want to go again sometime then?” your eyes dart away from his face. you can’t help but look away before you finish the question, unable to look him in the eye as you clarify, “with me, I mean.” you stumble out the words more confidently than you exprcted. 
he lets out a sigh. “there’s nothing I want from there…” it’s the truth. he hasn’t been very fond of the harbor for what has felt like centuries, especially not the memories he’s tethered to. he can’t help but to regret the accidental roughness of his words, though, when he looks up to see a flash of embarrassment paint across your face. it feels like he picked the wrong answer, but he wants to say the right one, desperately. xiao has never been great at talking, but he’s trying, for you. “but if you’d like… I’d like to go with you.”
you try to hide the way your heart picks up the pace a little at his words. “let’s go soon, then. I can tell you about myself, and you can tell me about you, too.”
he nods, and for a split second you think you’ve gone insane, because you swear, swear, that for a few seconds, the corner of xiao’s lips curve softly into a smile. a smile! smiling at the thought of you two ‘hanging out’ in the future! for all the times you’ve seen xiao, you can maybe only count on one hand how many times you’ve seen him smile. 
“you want to learn about me?” he asks, earnestly, shocked, and it definitely wasn’t a question you were expecting.
“yeah, I mean I've always seen you around. I think we've even been in the same classes before this year, too, and now I’m getting tutored by you  and I still know pretty much nothing about you.” you pause before adding on, “I’d love to learn more. I hope that’s not weird, or anything.”
he shakes his head, the ghost of a smile still etched onto his lips. and if you looked closely (which luckily for him, you weren’t), you’d see the faint dust of blush decorating his cheeks, too. “I don’t have much to tell you, but… that sounds good.”
he feels embarrassed at the fact he can’t control how warm his cheeks feel and how he can’t help but crack a smile at you. he clears his throat, trying to reset himself, suddenly ready to move on, going back to his desk. 
“let’s keep working, I want to make the most out of the time we have together.” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. you mentally brace yourself for another study session with him.
it’s gonna be a long night.
ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆
ven: where have you been?
ven: haven’t seen you all day……….. ):
ven: my flower, the house is so empty without you……….. ))):
ven: are you with somebody? you never tell me these things anymore.
ven: talk to me soon, please.
ーーー ☆
it's late into the night when you're awakened rudely with a few desperate knocks against your bedroom door.
you can't help but groan as you stir awake, upset to be forced out of your dream state, although that irritation is soon replaced with guilt once you realize just why you were being awakened with such urgency in the first place. after whining out a loud, 'come in,' you peak your eyes open to see your best friend standing in your doorway, tears staining his face so much that they're visible even in the darkness.
shit. it's been so long since you've seen venti like this. you thought all of that was over ages ago.
"can I sleep with you tonight?" his voice is shakey yet gentle, filled with fear and something that you can only label as... need, as if he needs you more than he ever has. just his voice alone, paired with the way he looks so in the doorway while he's shivering and fiddling with his pajamas, hair looking almost as distraught as he's feeling, is enough to have you too stunned to speak.
"please?" he adds on when you don't reply immediately.
you nod, scooting over to make room for him as he slowly trudges to your bed like he's done many times before. he's quick to settle in under the covers with you, laying against the plush pillow underneath him. you move closer to him as though it's instinct, an action done out of retained muscle memory from the many nights you've spent doing this exact thing. your eyes, though half lidded and heavy, trace over his face over and over again, noting how his eyes look back at you and you can't help but think that venti is such an expressive person. even if he's so silent right now, his eyes are cloudy and storming, speaking a thousand words with the thunder that rings out within them.
he looks like he's trying to think of what to say, but he doesn't need to say a single thing. you already know why he's here.
his face is contorted in a way that almost showcases utter agony, and it hurts, hurts to see your best friend suffering, especially when the best you can do is guide your hand softly against the smooth the skin of his cheek and brushing away any tears in pity. if nothing else, you truly do hope that, at the very least, your presence can help.
“do you maybe want to talk about it?” you run your hand through his soft, pretty dyed blue locks that seem to almost glow in the moonlight, feeling the light moisture of his skin from his sweat. you’ve forgotten just how easy it always has been to brush your hand through his locks. your voice is gentle and low as if not to startle him, as if not to shatter him more than he already is. “you know you don’t have to, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”
“no, it’s okay... I just want to be with you right now.” his voice is meek as he chooses his words carefully as though they're meticulously chosen to pull at your heartstrings (they do), and he sounds like he’s on the brink of tears once more.
“is it the same dream as before?” you ask, remembering how many nights you've spent with venti just like this when he began getting frequent ‘nightmares’ awhile back, nightmares that till this day you don't know the contents of.
he nods, although hesitantly, as though it’s some sort of secret. and in a way, it is.
he could never, ever, ever tell you that you’re the cause of all of his nightmares after all.
“are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? you look really upset. you've never told me what makes you like this.”
“no, I just want to… I just want to stay like this for a while.”
“okay, ven,” you whisper, soft and quiet, as if your voice could shatter him whole. you pause, thinking of what to say, before you decide that you won’t prode any further, instead bidding him a goodnight. “I love you, venti. get some rest.”
for the first time in maybe months, venti doesn’t tell you he loves you back.
instead he burrows himself as deep as humanly possible, as if being torn away from you would kill him, just like the way his dreams pulled and tugged ruthlessly at his heart strings, shoving images of you with your new 'tutor' down his throat, like they had with him months and months ago.
how cruel is it that he's forced to see you being ripped away from him both in real life and in his dreams?
-----☆
you're half asleep when you feel him mumble into your skin.
"I miss you. I miss this." he whispers, but you can barely hear him. he misses the way you feel, how comforting you smell, how his hands connect with your body like they're puzzle pieces. he misses having all your attention on him like this, so quick to coo and ask if he's okay. everything’s changed from how it used to be.
"what?"
you feel venti's hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your back as he slowly trails his hands up and down, basking in the way that you feel. "I miss you, cecilia. especially today." his voice isn't shakey anymore. instead it's much more fluid, as though he never had the night terrors that brought him into your room to begin with. you can't help but frown at his words even in your sleepy state.
"venti..." you mumble out, feeling his hands start to dig themselves into your skin. his grip on your waist is tightー not enough for it to hurt, but just enough that it keeps you from pushing him away if you really wanted to, trapping and suffocating you, bordering the lines of sucking the air out of your lungs.
part of you wishes he wouldn't keep things so bottled up from you, because clearly, your constant 'absence' in his life is hurting him more than you'll ever be able to understand, but the more selfish part of you is shamefully grateful that he is. you love venti, but for a man who constantly champions for freedom, he's always been so dead set on taking away yours.
you know deep down that if you gave venti an inch, he'd take a mile, and you don't have many miles left to give. you could spend twenty-four hours of a day with venti and he would still want you to somehow spend twenty-five on him. as much as you love ventiー truly, you love him more than anything else in the worldー, you know it'd be better if you didn't indulge him as much as you want him to. lord knows how quick venti would be to turn you into a hollow, empty shell of yourself by taking every second you have all for himself if he could.
besides, this whole thing will blow over eventually after the party, right?
right?
"I know that I've already whined and complained about it, but god, I miss you. you were gone for so long today with someone I don't even know… seeing you occasionally here and there isn't enough for me. I..." venti somehow manages to pull his body even closer to you, your chest and his chest plush against each other, so close that you can feel the way it rises as he breathes slowly. "I know I'm selfish, but I need you."
he says the word 'need' as if he'd die without you.
you don't think this is a conversation you two should be having when you're so... out of it, exhausted.
"venti, can we talk about this in the morning?"
his grip slowly loosens. "...okay." he says the word slowly and hesitantly, as if he's a child saying a cuss word for the first time, as if agreeing to put his feelings aside until you're in a much more lucid and conscious state is a sin. "I'm... I'm sorry for bothering you and being so clingy and... I just..." venti swallows thickly. "goodnight," venti mumbles, choosing not to finish his thought.
your eyebrows furrow, something about this whole conversation feeling off to you. never in a million years would venti have been so... upfront, apart from the day he invited you to the party. it's like venti's slowly unraveling like a string, just one little tug away from snapping.
it wouldn't be the first time venti's snapped on you though. you need to mend things and shut off the ticking time bomb before things blow up in your face again, like when you...
like when you...
ugh. you'll think about all of this later when you're actually well-rested and capable of forming cohesive thoughts. you softly mumble out a goodnight to venti as well, praying that the storm will blow off soon enough.
it doesn't, though. the winds only get stronger and louder.
ーーー☆
venti wasn't in your room by the time you woke up. infact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. not in his room, not in the kitchen or in the bathroom getting ready, nowhere. he didn't even leave a text telling you where he went.
you guess that venti needs time to think after last night, and you decide that it's probably for the best.
you'll see him again later anyways.
ーーー☆
it's cold out today, october's chill punishing you for wearing too light of a sweater for the weather, but the freezing temperature of the classroom during today's lecture isn't the cause of the way you squirm in your seat out of discomfort. no, you have professor zhongli to take credit for that.
you're convinced that zhongli gets a kick out of giving you borderline heart attacks.
honestly, that isn't exactly far from the truth. there's something about the way your eyes flicker in complete, utter fear just by him saying, "[name], may you please see me after class? there's something I'd like to discuss with you," that sends shivers down his spine, as egregious as that may sound. it's a shameful feeling for a professor to have, but at least he has much more innocent intentions this time as opposed to the last time he's asked you to stay behind.
the request was given to you right at the start of class (which you were actually on time to, thank god) before he began with his lecture. and once again, you couldn't help but think about just what exactly zhongli wanted to discuss with you throughout the entire lecture, almost too busy coming up with theories to focus. all you can think is, did you do something wrong again? was the assignment you turned in last night bad? all that studying you did with xiao couldn’t have been for nothing, right? you're going to fail the semester at this rate.
you wish zhongli was more dead set on helping you pass like last year than assuring that you failed.
you can’t help but call back to that time. you had been much worse off back then. you were visibly behind everyone else, but it hadn't started that way. so much was happening back then. and that breakup, oh that fucking break up, really made focusing on your school work beyond difficult. you truly did put up a fight, tried to make sure you stayed afloat, and it did work at first. but your responsibilities drowned you completely, and you never really learned how to swim.
it was a rough semester, and one of your classes had been taught by the very same man taking great pleasure in ruining you today. your one saving grace? once again, the very same man, who had seemed to take enough pity onto you that he took matters into his own hands to make sure you did well.
you stood out back then, not because you shone bright, but because you didn't shine at all.
zhongli wanted to light that fire back in you that you had at the start of the year. and he had.
zhongli had took you under his wing, struck you with passion and drive, made you fall in love all over again with the topic you were studying through his ramblings and stories and sheer utter knowledge; he revitalized you, filled a hole. he had kept you after class and in his office on weekends, making time to make sure that you succeeded and through his gentle nurturing that was the hot to his own cold. you had succeeded, to your surprise. and he had looked after you ever since.
it was silly for you to believe that he would grace you with the same mercy this course.
but things are different now. so much more different. you were grateful back then for him striving to push you to do better, but now it's overwhelming. back then, his standards were achievableー finish your assignments on time as often as you could, study a little when you can, at least attempt to attend every class you had. it was doable. but now, now you're almost convinced he wants you to become borderline perfectー no, perfect is an understatement. he wants you to be better than perfect.
perfect, and vulnerable.
back then it felt as though he was trying to help you but now, the back of your mind can't help but tell you that he's always been helping himself, benefiting himself, not you.
it was at the start of this school year that you let yourself fall right into the dragon's lair.
either way, maybe it's the fact that your mind was so occupied, or maybe time simply just decided to speed up, but the class flew by in no time. you had practically tuned out all of zhongli's ramblings and teachings today. you watched zhongli dismiss the class, staying seated despite the way everyone else shuffled out of the door as quickly as possible. once again, it was just you and zhongli in the empty room.
fuck.
zhongli walks to the front of your desk, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long sigh, and you never knew how such a little harmless action could strike so much fear into your heart. could you just combust already? you're not at all ready for whatever zhongli has to say.
"what a long class we had today, hm? I hope I didn't bore you too much. you looked particularly distracted." zhongli says, smiling gently at you as he attempts to brighten the gloomy mood you're clearly in. "luckily, though, I've been excited to talk to you all class. you truly were my saving grace today."
is this some kind of sick joke? you were kidding when you thought zhongli must get pleasure out of your failure, but you might actually be right.
gross.
"don't worry, though, I didn't keep you after class just to complain. I'll get to the point, since I know you hate pointless chatter."
"I know it's far too early to say this, but I'm proud of you, [name]."
that caring nature still shines through, the strict professor he's supposed to be eroded and washed away by time itself.
your eyebrows furrow. "what?" you can’t help but let the word slip out of your mouth in the midst of your confusion.
"the assignment you gave in last night, truly one of your best works this semester. you never fail to amaze me with how fast you manage to make a turnaround when you put your mind to it, [name]."
the assignment? the one you worked on last night at the last second despite having over a week to do it after studying with xiao that you had to keep your eyes pried open to complete? the one xiao had borderline picked apart a dozen times as though trying to break you down even more? that assignment?
what?
"but I... what? if it was any good, it's likely only because xiao was there to help me." you mumble, unsure of your words.
"so? are you really diminishing your accomplishments just because you got a little aid?" zhongli plants a hand on your cheek like he has a dozen times in the past before guiding your face to look up at him. "or are you trying to say that it was xiao who had done your assignment, not you?"
"o-of course he didn't, but-" zhongli is quick to shush you, pressing a gloved thumb against your lips with a soft smile.
"shh. you did well, and that's final. I hope this pattern continues. you know I want nothing but the best for you after seeing what you can achieve." his gloved hand caresses your cheek and you're convinced he can feel the heat your face is producing out of embarrassment even through the layer of fabric. "my little star, you're doing well again." he adds quietly, so quietly that you can just barely make it out, though the nickname is far less shocking than the praise that your brain is still trying to make sense of.
"before I let you go, I just wanted to reiterate that should you ever need my assistance with anythingー and I mean anything at all, whether it's related to your academics or notー know that I am and always will be here."
"I... thank you." it's the only words you can come up with as zhongli leaves you alone with your thoughts. "thank you," you repeat, speaking the words much more quietly. in a hushed whisper.
in the back of your mind, you realize that you should be thinking about how odd it is for zhongli to suddenly be so sugary sweet, how he's touched you so much more intimately than a professor should, how his little nickname for you is weird at best, and yet all you can think about is how he's proud of you.
for some reason, that's all that really matters to you in the moment. you can think about... all that other stuff, later.
ーーー☆
it's almost pitch dark out by the time you finally get home. 
"I'm home!" you shout out as soon as you step through the front door, voice a little breathy after having to climb up a few flights of stairs to get up to your apartment, alerting venti that you've arrived in a way akin to how married couples do. you're quick to lock the door behind you, stripping yourself of your shoes that feel more like weights before placing them in the shoe rack near the door and putting your heavy bag down next to venti's violin case, deciding you'll bother with getting whatever you need out of there when you feel like it. you wince a little at the cold tiles of the floor underneath your feet.
maybe one day you'll move into a place with an actual heater, you think.
"I'll be there in just a second!" venti's voice rings out from what you assume is the bathroom down the hall, likely showering given the pitter-pattering sound of running water. you nod, as though responding to him despite the fact he can't see you, flicking on the light switch to the kitchen as you do so. the kitchen table immediately grabs your attention with how different it looks compared to how you left it this morning. two orange pumpkins sit at the center, and alongside it lays an unopened package of carving tools and another package of tea lights, a brown bag filled with what looks to be some house decor and knick knacks (venti truly does love trying to make your run-down apartment as much of a true home as possible), and a bag of groceries yet to be put away.
you sit down at the medium sized wooden table, allowing yourself to rest and bask in the day as you look through everything infront of you. it's been awhile since you've just sat in silence and thought, and even longer since you let yourself really live in this home without just heading straight to your room. your nails drill against the table, pushing one of the two pumpkins closer to you with a soft hum. you trace a finger against it, imaginging what'd you want to carve on it and how it'd glow after you put a candle inside.
this year you should do something new, get a little more fancier with the design that you have in the previous years that you craved a pumpkin. maybe you and venti will carve matching jack-o-laterns this year. you can't help but smile at the thought.
"they're cute, aren't they?"
you tense up when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you instantly relax when you turn your head to see venti. you guess you were so lost in thought you hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom. you drink in his presence, giving him a glance over out of instinct. the smell of his apple-cinnamon bodywash assault your senses in an oddly comforting way, a scent that makes you feel right at home. he's in a pair pajamas and cute bunny slippers, and his hair is clipped up in a pretty half up, half down ponytail. the blue dyed tips of his hair are losing their signature color (which is odd, considering that despite his inherit laziness, venti's always been one to make sure those tips stay bright blue at all costs) and his skin looks a little damp.
a gummy smile paints his face, and he has a bit of a playful glint in his eye, but he looks notably tired, and a sense of worry pings at your heart at the sight. you were the roommate notorious for having bags under your eyes afterall, not him, so to see him look so exhausted, especially when venti's always been one for getting his 'beauty sleep,' tells you that venti internally isn't feeling his best. it sounds shallow, judging someone's mental health based on their appearance, but you know venti like the back of your hand, and you know that something's wrong.
even moreso, you know exactly what that wrong thing is, given last night's conversation.
"I got them at the grocery store today. thought it might be fun to carve them together before they go bad. that is, if you want to grace me with your undivided time and attention, of course." venti pretends he's joking, but you know deep down he means the sentiment of wanting you to give him your time for once, and you honestly feel awful at his words. nonetheless, you suck it up, smiling up at him. it's a genuine smile.
"why wouldn't I? it is tradition after all. I'm going to make mine extra scary this year."
venti laughs at your words, his heart internally flutter at the thought of how determined your face would look as you try to create the spookiest jack-o-latern he's ever seen. he leans down, pressing a soft, platonic peck to your forehead, finally giving you a welcome home.
"you're home later than usual again, everything go okay?"
you can't help but notice that venti is acting as if he had never said what he said last night, though the air between you is still awkward and tense, and his face does little to hide the fact that deep down, he's still quelling on the things he spoke about. nonetheless, you decide that that conversation is to be had when venti wants it to happen, knowing full well from years of being his best friend that venti prefers keeping a lighter mood at all costs, so you leave things at that until he's ready to speak about it again.
"yeah, I just thought that I'd try to get some work done while I could at campus," you answer, watching as he nods slowly at your words. you can tell he's fighting back the urge to interrogate you, to ask you if you were with anybody and if you really needed to stay at campus, and anything else he can use as a way to rationalize the fact that he's so clingy. he looks around the room, thinking about what else he could say to make sure the conversation doesn't end prematurely.
"oh! I ordered some takeout a bit before you came home. it's still hot, if you want to eat."
you nod, thanking him, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to figure out just how exactly he can stay with you longer without him bringing up anything you two talked about last night. he stands there, presence lingering as though he has something to say, and yet he chooses not to say whatever's on his mind, instead preferring to pick up the unopened bottle of dandelion wine on the nearby kitchen counter.
"you seem all set. I'll get going now, then. I have an urgent date with a bottle of wine that I can't miss for the world." venti moves quickly to leave as though trying to make sure you don't see through to him, turning his back to you without another word, but he doesn't get too far before he's freezing up at your words.
"you're not gonna stay and chat?" you say instinctively, a little surprised by the fact he was so quick to come and go today. you don't know what it is about today, but the thought of venti forcing himself to go when he clearly doesn't want to pains you. maybe it was last night's conversation, or maybe it's how venti radiates warmth that fights against the biting cold that nips at your skin, or maybe you just miss venti, but you want him here with you.
venti turns around slowly, his voice low as he speaks. "oh..." he starts off, "I thought you would've wanted to eat alone like all the other nights," you almost let out a wince at his words. how long has it really been since you last simply hung out with venti? "do you... want me to stay?" you let out a gentle hum.
"I want you here tonight. I want to talk to you."
"about what?"
you think about everything you'd want to tell venti, and you realize that that's exactly it; you want to tell him everything and anything you can. you want to tell him about your new tutor who turned out to be a lot less scary than you were expecting him to be, or that new coffee shop a friend had told you about that opened up near by that you'd love to tell him about, or how zhongli was actually kind to you today. but you also want venti to tell you everything too, about any escapades he's had recently while drunk or new songs he's written, or even how his classes are going and if he's thinking of going to any other parties soon.
you realize that, as much as you'd hate to admit it to yourself, you miss just being with venti a lot too.
"everything," you finally reply after thinking, grinning up at his hesitant form.
"everything? really? this isn't a ploy to tell me horrific news or to try to get out of going to that party, is it?"
"no, I promise. I'm honestly a bit offended you'd think I'd ever be so cruel as to try to get out of going to such an amazing party," you joke.
venti playfully rolls his eyes at your words, but he can't help the smile that creeps up his face. his smile is bright like a star, warm enough for a planet to survive off of, eyelids crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he puts the bottle in his hand down befofe he pulls up one of the kitchen chairs, the legs screeching against the floor so that he's sitting infront of you. he leans in close to you as though you were about to tell him the greatest story known to man. you can't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. venti's smile, his real and genuine smile, gives you a feeling like no other. it makes you feel whole, like none of your problems neither exist nor matter and that everything in this world is perfect.
"okay then, dove, tell me everything."
ーーー NEW TEXT MESSAGE ーーー☆
alatus: can you believe it's almost sunday already?
[name]: holy shit, time is going by so fast
[name]: I'm so excited to meet you in person
alatus: I'm excited too.
[name]: I can't believe I've known you for over a year and I'm only going to get to see your face now
[name]: I swear, if you're just some creep...
alatus: I promise I'm not.
alatus: well, maybe.
[name]: ha ha, very funny.
[name]: but seriously, it honestly feels like I've known you for forever.
alatus: maybe you have and you just never noticed
Tumblr media
103 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐒, 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
Thomas Sampson has been having a truly awful last two years. Recently divorced and fired from his position at Brown after his problems with alcohol were discovered, he has been blacklisted from almost every truly prestigious university in the country, and forced to take the only job he’s been offered in months: teaching a brand-new World Mythology class at Newsome, a small university in Connecticut. Half numb inside and having lost much of his passion for the myths he teaches, he is resigned to spending his days reciting the same ancient stories to uncaring students and his nights going to AA meetings and falling asleep in front of a muted television - until a young woman with large glasses and dark clothes begins a debate with him in his first lesson and, without even meaning to, starts to bring color back into his world.
Ana Vazquez may not have been through what her professor has, but they haven’t exactly had it easy either. Having survived a home invasion that killed her parents and forced to become their younger sister’s legal guardian at only eighteen, she has finally made it to their senior year at Newsome with her sister as a freshman after being forced to delay pursuing their degree in order to be the caregiver she needed to be. Suffering from terrible insomnia and terrified to fall asleep and see their parents’ bodies all over again, she lives off of energy drinks and medications to soothe their anxiety, but is nonetheless determined to take as many classes as she can handle - including Newsome’s new World Mythology course, which they sign up for because of her childhood love for stories of gods and divine heroes, but quickly find that their professor is the part of the course she enjoys most.
In the beginning, Ana and Thomas’s relationship is that of a perfectly regular teacher and student, but after a chance midnight encounter, the two slowly begin to grow closer, sharing the darkest corners of their souls and leaning on each other for the comfort they both so crave… so, of course, it is inevitable that the bond between them begins to cross the line of what is socially acceptable. And they know, the both of them, that what they are doing is wrong, that the inherent power Thomas has over Ana is a problem and that relying on another person to hold them together is not at all healthy… but beyond the deities they discuss in the classroom, they have begun to find a new, beautiful religion in each other, to build a love that is messy and aching but so, so true, and that makes it very hard for either of them to care about what other people may deem “right”.
General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @nolanhollogay and @starcrossedjedis.)
19 notes · View notes
nolanhollogay · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
see me after class:
reeling from what was arguably the worst six month stretch of his life, alejandro granados is very ill-equipped to start a new school year. after an incredibly messy divorce and a long coming and extremely painful sexuality crisis, he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less than teach a class about love to a group of kids who don't care whether he lives or dies.
but then came daniel ángeles. daniel, who's smart and gorgeous and the only student who makes him excited to teach a lesson, and so incredibly nineteen.
alejandro knows he must resist temptation but daniel is his forbidden fruit. even eve wasn't strong enough not to take a bite, so is it really his fault if he sinks his teeth into him? aren't rules meant to be broken?
taglist: @witchofinterest @kentaroranda @partiallypearl @eddysocs @dogscomplex @compoundvee @hiddenqveendom @daughter-of-melpomene @bibaybe @joshdiaz @arrthurpendragon@shades0frainbow@xoteajays
11 notes · View notes
mhathotfic · 10 months
Text
You think about student/professor like twice and suddenly it pops into your head randomly more often even though you’ve never liked that dynamic before. I don’t know if I’m just confused or annoyed about this turn of events.
Anyways fucking your biology professor, not for the grades. No, you have that on lock, but because you know something about professor Kirishima he’d rather not get out.
That he tried failing you to get you to sleep with him, and sure, you are still fucking him but now you have the power.
You have all the evidence, if he slips up, it’s his career
28 notes · View notes
pomstr4wberr · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✦. ⊹ ˚ .꒰୧ ‧₊˚ 🍫 ꒰ WHY DO I MISS YOU?!♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ
୧ ‧₊˚ ✨️ ꒰ angst ꒱♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ dark content
✦. ⊹ ‧₊˚ 💓 ꒰ GN reader - you/your . ꒱ᗜˋ
✦. ⊹ ˚ .꒰୧ ‧₊˚ 🩹 Male Oc X gn reader
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍼 ꒰TW: DARK CONTENT, Pedophilia, grooming, trauma response, family issues, abusive family, mention of attempted r8pe but it doesn't happen here.
NOTE: DARK CONTENT !! The trauma response is based off my mine, be warned this is dark.
TRAUMA RESPONSE ::
Trauma is an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident, r8pe, or natural disaster. Immediately after the event, shock and denial are typical. Longer term reactions include unpredictable emotions, flashbacks, strained relationships, and even physical symptoms like headaches or nausea. Trauma response can be different for people for me I miss them[a trauma response that some people might have]
Please be warned if these topics trigger you! If this triggers you or bugs, you ignore!
Tumblr media
THE FAMILIAR room stings your eyes. Blurry around the edges of your eyes like an old picture.
The writing of paper fulls your ears. It's the only thing you can hear. Your thoart feels dry, and it hurts. You don't have enough saliva to swallow.
He hums a tune, you remember, but at the same time, it's like you dont know the tune. You can't say a word, he coughs and you can a hear a chair moving it makes a thud noise.
He turns at you smiling, his smile is so familiar. The smile burns into your memory,
"Sorry for ignoring you, mx yn. You weren't scheduled for today, it must be important." He says, he pushes his glasses back up his nose, you can't say a word.
But you managed to say it, "Mr. Ito, I have came here to ask you something..." your words get quieter at the end of your words. He has a facial expression of confusion but he nods his head.
"Okay, mx yn tell your question." He puts down his pen and pushes his chair a bit closer. You get nervous, your face heats up a bit you swallow.
You close your fist hard, you can feel paper against your skin. You think if you still squeezing hard it can cutting your skin.
"Wo-would you look to s-see a movie with me?.." You managed to say out, you slowly let go of your fist,
"A movie?" He cocks his head to his side in confusion, you nod your head. A movie ticket tow of course. You saved up money in your cute pink piggy bank it had big cute doe eyes.
"Ah yes," you show him the movie tickets it was a romance comedy one. He takes once looking at it, smiling. His smiling face makes you blush.
"Okay, then let's watch. I could have a break." You smiled, he got up and helped you. His hands holding your hands you wished that lasted forever.
Sometimes you wished he had feelings for you like you did had for him maybe he did? But he would be getting in trouble for dating or having romantic feelings for some one young as you. Even though it can't be that bad right?
your old enough right? 16 isn't bad, your old enough.
You heard your parent's In arguing it isn’t new, but you heard a loud slap and crying. Normally you would go out and help your mom but you couldn't be late or he's going to disappointed in you.
And you were going to waste money if you didn't go and what happen if some other person would go up to him and watch the movie with him?!
You sneaked out, the cold breeze hits you, it gave you goosebumps.
You saw him outside, you couldn't help but smile. You yelled his name, he looked up and smiled waving at you, you waved excitedly.
You guys both got in, you couldn't focus on the movie it was like a blur to you. You wanted to puke to out of happiness because of Mr. Ito being so close to you.
You breathe in and out, it was like nobody else was in there just you and him. You slowly lean into his shoulder.
You blushed and after that everything was a blur, it was like you were floating above the clouds.
After that day, he distanced himself from you, Why?
He explained it was because you were doing good. You weren't on his list anymore why could this happen?
You soon found out that a teacher named Ms. Miyaki, a teacher who teached the freshmen. Why could she have done this?!
You remember walking up to her asking her why, she explained that it was wrong and that Mr. Ito would go to jail.
Harsh knocking is heard.
"Ito you can't do this to a child!" A female voice is heard on the other side of the door.
"Ms. Miyaki, you don't have to knock so harshly."
The female looked mad,
"Ito! You are having a romantic relationship with a sixteen year old." She yelled at his face clearly mad.
"Ms miyaki, they are old enough to make this decision. Their not a kid anymore" he explains.
"Ito that is no excuse for what you did! They are still sixteen!" She gets more mad.
You clench your fist this is all her fault. You felt more depressed than ever, you felt Angier towards her.
You did something to her but she survived, luckily she didn't know if was you but she thought it was your "lovely lover".
He was soon put in jail for pedophilia, attempted murder and attempted r8pe.
Attempted r8pe? Apparently she thought that he took advantage of you, that didn't happen the attempt murder was you.
You felt weird, you were suppose to get rid of her then run away with him. But he's in jail and it was all your fault.
Your noise hurts, the smell of smoke gives you a headache. The abandoned school which is now a place of rebellious teens. Smoking and graffiti on the walls.
There's mold and leaves on the school, you made it inside though a broken window. You made it to Mr ito's old room, the room you would be in before the addicted you caused happen and before he left you.
You sat down, breathing in and out. It reminded you of the old times. You clench your fist, whispering to yourself.
You held yourself like what he did before you left after the movie. He whispered in your ear, kissing you.
You wish that you could live in that moment forever.
Why am I like this?
Why do I miss you?
Why do I want you back?
Why why? You did gross things but at the same time you want him back.
Why do I miss you please tell me. I want to be fixed, I don't want to be like this anymore.
Why why do I miss you?
Tumblr media
50 notes · View notes
merakiui · 1 year
Note
Hi hi ~
What are your thoughts on professor/TA twst characters x college student reader ??? I literally cannot stop thinking about Prof ashengrotto who just adores the sweet and diligent student who sits in the front of the class, always participating, always turns in assignments on time... Prof ashengrotto who grades your papers mercilessly knowing you'll barge into his office biting back tears because who's grade is this?? Certainly not yours?? What if you lose your scholarship?? Whoever is going to help you???
p p pp p p pppp professor.........ashengrotto..........
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, one-sided student-professor relationship, age gap (azul is 38 & reader is 23), coercion, abuse of power/authority, implied dub-con)
He's ruthless with every paper he grades, but he's especially ruthless with you. Professor Ashengrotto has a reputation in his department: socially, he's handsome and young (a mere thirty-eight, and he's just as bright, if not brighter, than some of the older professors). Academically, he's brilliant and very knowledgeable when it comes to business and the economy (and interestingly enough he has a penchant for marine biology as well), but he pushes students to do their very best. And to some that may seem like he's too hard or difficult, but he's actually very understanding and if you meet him outside of the classroom he's not as intimidating as he appears at the lectern.
But even so he expects his students to strive for the best possible grades. He wants everyone to pass his classes, but he also won't cut corners or raise grades even if they're a point or so away. He claims he's fair when it comes to grading, but sometimes it feels like he deliberately grades for every possible mistake rather than the content itself. At least, that's how it feels with your work. He took off points for a few grammar errors (of all things) and even took off points regarding very minor discrepancies in your information. When you brought it up to him after class, he'd simply told you, "You should know your subject if you're going to write a report on them and obviously, from the looks of your most recent paper, you do not."
It was a report on the intelligence of the octopus. You'd spent hours poring over textbooks and academic journals. You'd penned every reliable source, every fact, every study and its data. How any of that was "incorrect" is beyond you. You even cited every source properly! What is he even thinking, marking you for "incorrect information"?
In your defense, you are not a marine biology major. You're just taking a class because you need course credits and this was one of the few that provided you with the extra hours needed. You know Professor Ashengrotto from the business classes you're taking. He's just as cutthroat there. Apparently, the academic world is just as ruthless as the business world (at least in Professor Ashengrotto's eyes).
As if your professor can't get any harsher, he does. He failed your most recent report for one of the business courses, and it hurt your grade a considerable amount. So, like clockwork, you find yourself in his office, your paper nearly crumpled in your fist with how tightly you're gripping it. You can't fail out of his class. You need to keep a certain grade average each semester if you intend to keep your scholarship, your status as an honors student, your roles in certain clubs and extracurriculars. You verbalize these worries to him and he smiles and proposes an offer: You can redo the entire report so long as you take care to do a better job. It sounds great until you hear the deadline. Three days. He's giving you three days. Three days to write an entire report from the ground up because he won't accept changes made to the already existing paper. Three days.
Three days.
You think you might go insane.
Oh, but the fair and polite Professor Ashengrotto has a suggestion! He's willing to extend that time if you meet with him for coffee to discuss further. Stupidly, you agree right away, thanking him for his understanding, and he continues to smile, to say he really does get it. University is taxing; he knows. He's been there before. He just wants to help you; this is your future, after all.
On your way out of his office, you fail to notice the pale eyes that stick themselves to your rear as you retreat. The door shuts behind you, and only then do you realize the nature of the agreement. Meeting up for coffee. Outside of class. Outside of office hours. Meeting up...for coffee. Why does that feel...wrong, somehow? Why does it unsettle you?
But you need to amend your grades. You need to pass. You need to secure your future. So you push your discomfort aside and prepare yourself for the weekend.
- - -
It's strange to see Professor Ashengrotto without his usual pressed suits, luxury wristwatch, expensive ties, and shined shoes. He's almost...casual in his black turtleneck sweater, grey trench coat, and black slacks. He looks almost like a fellow student, so much so that his appearance startles you when you spot him sitting in a corner of the comfortable coffee shop.
To your speechless stare, he chuckles and asks, "Am I not allowed to dress comfortably on my days off?"
And then it hits you. This is his day off. This is your day off. This is not an academic setting. This is...
You shake your head and slide into the seat across from him. "Sorry. It just surprised me." You're digging through your bag to distract yourself, now acutely aware of his stare pinned on you. "I brought my laptop and was hoping you could look over my sources. I spent all of last night compiling them, so maybe if you had a chance to review them I might know what to do to avoid making the same mistakes. And I also started a new thesis. I don't think the other one was working. Maybe that's where I went wrong and so if I just change—"
"Is everything all right?"
You blink, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Sorry?"
"Are you okay? You seem frazzled."
"Well, I mean, yeah. That should be obvious." You cough, realizing your reply was harsh, and fix it with, "I'm trying to manage the workload from your classes and my other classes, Professor."
"Please. Call me Azul."
Your face scrunches in distaste. It doesn't sound right to refer to any professor by their first name, even if some of them have noted they don't particularly mind it. With Professor Ashengrotto, it feels far too casual. You don't like it.
And as if things can't get anymore casual, they do when a waitress arrives to deliver two cups of coffee and pastries. You stare at it. It's brewed just the way you like it. Even the pastry is your favorite. You fix Professor Ashengrotto with a questioning stare.
"You mentioned it in one of our introductions."
"My favorite coffee and pastry?" You frown, combing through your brain for when you might have said so. It's highly possible when you introduced yourself to your peers at the start of the semester. "Oh. Well, allow me to pay you back for—"
"There's no need." He smiles at you. It's gentler this time. You don't like it.
"No, I insist. How much was it? I'll give you the exact change right now."
You're fumbling for your wallet when his arm reaches across the table. A warm hand closes around yours.
"Professor Ashengrotto?"
"Azul," he corrects evenly. "And please don't worry about it. Everyone needs a little pick-me-up every now and then, yes?"
His fingers curl into yours, nearly entwining, and you yank your hand away, icy horror creeping up your spine. He blinks at you, as if stunned, before composing himself and drawing back. You stare between your wallet and laptop before pocketing the former and turning the latter on.
"Well, if you really don't want me to pay you back... Then let's get back to the matter at hand."
For the rest of your afternoon, you resign yourself to academic discussions. It's easy to fall into that rhythm, and Professor Ashengrotto offers helpful insight as he reviews everything you show him. By the end of it, you're relieved to have finished such a draining discussion. More importantly, you're glad you can leave this coffee shop and never return again (at least not with Professor Ashengrotto).
He reminds you to have it submitted before midnight at the end of the week. You thank him for his help and, just to ease your anxious heart, leave him with a few Madol for the drink and the pastry. On your way out, you feel his eyes on you, watching you make the walk to your car. Those eyes never leave, even after you've driven away.
It can't get any worse, you tell yourself.
You submit your revised paper a minute after midnight. And, apparently, by your professor's standards it's late. He gives you half credit. It hardly raises your grade. If anything, it lowers it a few points.
Like a bad song on repeat, you find yourself in his office yet again. And like before he proposes the same fix: coffee and revision. Stupidly, you agree to another weekend spent in discomfort. It's for the sake of your grades. It's for the sake of your scholarships. It's for the sake of your future, so you can sacrifice slivers of your sanity.
You have to if you want to pass.
- - -
Though it feels like you're improving in his class, your grade does not reflect this. You're not sure how many more coffee dates you can take. You're not sure how many more Please. Call me Azuls you can take. You're not sure how many fleeting touches you can take, each one seeming more invasive than the last. You hold your tongue and swallow disgust because your grades are in his capable hands. You need good grades. You need to pass. You need to, you need to, you need to.
You're in his office again, but this time your resolve has shattered and you're crying. You hate every moment of this. You hate feeling so cornered. Most of all, you hate how empty the building gets at this time of day.
"I don't know what you want anymore," you admit in a broken whisper. "I'm trying so hard. I've revised paper after paper, I've discussed everything over coffee, and I've done my best to improve. I listen and take notes. I ask questions. I'm never distracted. I always study the material. So what am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do to pass? I can't lose my chances at being considered for certain scholarships..."
Professor Ashengrotto wears sympathy like it's a counterfeit of a luxury scarf. It almost fools you, but then he's rising from his seat, crossing the distance to the door, and you know his care stems from something else. Something wicked and foul.
"I'm sorry to hear you're struggling. I'm here to help, but I can't help if you aren't willing to put in enough time to submit good work—and submit it on time, might I add. This is a team effort, after all."
But I am putting in enough time! you want to say, but the words won't come. Your throat is closing up, raw and ragged from sobbing.
"If you're so concerned, I can offer you an alternative." His voice has dropped dangerously low. You don't dare turn around to face him. You can't when you hear the door shut and lock with an ominous click. "This deal is a double-edged sword. It will hurt both of us should the wrong people catch wind of it."
His shoes click out steady steps against the linoleum. He bends down to view you, hunched and horrified, in your chair. "But you're smart, so I know I can count on my little honor student to keep their pretty mouth shut." He smiles a sharp, nasty smile and draws back, leaning against his desk with his arms folded primly over his chest. "So let's help each other. Team effort, after all."
"P-Professor Ashengrotto, I don't think this is...appropriate."
He quirks a brow at you, and his normally soft, powdery hues are dark and stormy. "You want to pass, don't you? I could fail you right here, right now. Take one step out of this office and you'll never know success in any of my classes ever again." The light must have drained from your eyes because he chuckles again, tutting softly. "Don't make that expression. I'm not cruel. I'm giving you an opportunity to improve your grades. If I were you, I'd take it."
You weigh your grades and your integrity. Is the former really that important? You can survive one failure, right? Anything would be better than this horror. Anything would be better, right? So why are you hesitating?
You stare at your lap and, very quietly, ask, "What is it you want?"
"Get on your knees and put that smart mouth of yours to work. If you're good, I might consider giving you extra credit."
It's for the sake of your grades, so you have no choice.
408 notes · View notes
fandoestrans · 1 year
Text
[ENG TRANSLATION] Bai Yu as Zheng Xijue in 'Take Us Home' (clip)
"Ge, I heard that back when Uncle was younger, he dated one of the students from the class that he taught, is it true?"
This girl is now Zheng Xijue's girlfriend, the girl he wants to marry, and yet she chose to reunite with Xijue's uncle.
15 notes · View notes
dearestxiao · 4 months
Text
the color blue: vibrance | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader
Tumblr media
synopsis: (college au) you've found solace in a newfound, faceless friend after a messy break up left a hole of loneliness to be filled. you can't help but countdown the days until his identity is finally revealed, but perhaps you've known this mysterious friend all along.
WARNINGS: while this chapter is mostly tame, this story will progress to have heavier and darker themes. implied stalking, manipulation and guilt-tripping, student-teacher dynamics (reader is 21, zhongli is in his late 20's/ early 30's), threats of finacial manipulation. I believe that's all but let me know if there's more! reader is gender-neutral
wc: 6.6k
authors note: it's finally here! the re-upload of the color blue <3!!!!!! thank you all so so much for your patience. bare with me guys, this story is a slowburn. (also you cannot pay me to yap less). this is a re-upload of my fic from my old deactivated blog based on my college! however, this isn't a complete re-upload. for those who have read the original version of the color blue, some parts of the story have been altered and edited to better fit my vision of what i want the story to be (so no horned up xiao (yet) sorry guys </3) i really really hope all these changes are still enjoyable, though! thank you to those who made it possible to recover this story from my old blog, and thank you all for staying tuned <3
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 2] [part 3]
Tumblr media
this is a dark fiction story. minors, do not interact. as always, reblogs are extremely appreciated!
Tumblr media
you have a love-hate relationship with fall.
fall was a melancholic season for you, a season that practically begged you to simply stay home and away from the gloomy, blue skies. fall isn't a bad season, not by any means, but you do absolutely hate just how much more cozy it made your bed feel, how the soft pitter-patter of morning fall rain would ring out against the glass of your window as though beckoning you silently to stay under the warmth of your cozy blanket, how it became increasingly harder to get out of bed with the way the floors (and days as a whole) were cold and contrasting against the heat of your comforter (which, as the day goes by, you truly are starting to realize more and more why comforters have the word 'comfort' in them).
you liked the fallen leaves, with their reds and golds and oranges. you liked the pumpkins and the rain and the sweaters and the need for warm drinks, but god does fall make it impossible for you to get up these days.
luckily for you, your roommate has a knack for getting you to do things you don't necessarily want to do.
the first thing you awaken to (apart from the numerous snooze alarms you've dismissed in the past hour) is the borderline obnoxious feeling of your roommate bouncing onto the bed to the side of your (once) sleeping body, startling you. you can't say that this was the first time you've been woken up with a bang like this, but you could certainly say that it won't be the last.
"goooooodmorning, sunshine!" despite your eyes not being open, you can practically hear the sinister grin plastered all over his face as he let's out a greeting in his singsong voice, watching as you groan out at his chipperness. you never understood how your bestfriend could be such a morning person, but you supposed that facet of his life fit him well, just like you hating mornings fit you.
"venti." you let out, feeling him shake you awake. "get out."
your lovely, loving roommate responds with an exaggerated sigh, followed up by him gently jabbing a chipped baby blue lacquered finger at your cheek as you try to bury yourself into your pillow. he pressed against you just like how you had pressed your own against the button that, had you not pressed an excessive amount, would have avoided this situation as a whole. you can't help but feel as if the snooze button was invited purely just to spite people like you.
"aw, c'mon, I can hear your alarm from the other room you know. you were gonna need to wake up eventually." you force your head up just a little to pick up and peek at your phone with one sleepy eye, reading the time on the clock and realizing he's right, causing you to know full well that had he not woken you up you would've easily slept through your morning classes.
putting your phone back down, you roll your eyes. "yeah, yeah." you mock, moving to yawn and stretch before giving venti your full attention, eyeing his mischievous grin from your position. "what'd you want?"
"ugh, can't a man wake up his bestfriend without having any nefarious intentions in mind?" you deadpan at him, giving him that sort of look that just screams, 'no.'
"okay, fine, so I do have some mal-intent, but I made you breakfast, so it evens out! and since you're obviously so insistent on helping me out..." he smirks, and you instantly become suspicious, but you allow him to talk, wanting to see what he plans to rope you into this time.
"you know how I'm a great friend, an amazing one at that, and take you out to places all the time so that you can truly come out of that little shell you like to keep yourself in? how I'm such an oh-so amazing person that I use my popularity to let you enjoy life to your fullest? how I love to spoil you dearly, allowing you to truly-"
you're half tempted to throw a pillow at his face. "get to the point," you groan.
he dramatically rolls his eyes. "ugh, you're no fun. so, there's this halloween party..."
"I don't like where this is going."
he presses his pointer finger right against your lip. "hush! so, there's this halloween party, and I think it'd be fun for you to tag along with-"
"no."
"don't be a grinch! c'mon, I need a date! I even bought us matching costumes!"
"don't you have, like, a million other people that could be your date?."
he groans. "ugh, you know, you should seriously stop thinking about what others think. besides, all you've been doing these past few weeks is studying and sleeping. you need a break, have some fun! I promise it'll be a great time."
you sigh, willing to hear him out. you suppose you have been overworking yourself. "and what if I'm busy on sunday?"
he doesn't respond with quick wit like he usually does, and it makes you worried. you finally take a full, good look at him as you respond, and you watch as you see the smile on his once beaming face start to dissipate, and you instantly get hit with a pang of guilt at the sight. you note the way in which he's half dressed and how his messy dyed blue hair is still pinned back, as though he really did go out of his way to wake you up while he was getting ready. he looks away from you, as though he's trying to hold himself back from saying something. "do you... do you really have plans on halloween?" he says lowly, as though heartbroken.
the guilt really is hitting you strong. only venti can make you feel this bad this early in the morning.
"well, not at night atleast, but I'm not exactly sure that I want to spend it watching you in a costume get wasted." you try to joke, but you can tell that somethings up with venti. he doesn't find it funny, not one bit. "besides, I'm sure that you can find someone else to be the... er, morticia to your gomez addams, or something."
he nods slowly in an almost wounded baby bird fashion. "right. sorry for asking. I knew it'd be a bad idea to ask." his voice croaks a bit like he's right at the brink of tears. he moves to get up, as though trying to flea the scene, but your hand on his wrist stops him from going.
"hey, wait, what's wrong? I didn't think this would be such a big deal to you. you always party without me."
he let's out a tired, exhausted sigh. "you don't get it. it's fine, I can find someone else like you said."
"get what?"
"it," he replies. "you don't get it. it's not just a party to me." you quirk a worried browed towards his way, beckoning for him to explain. he shakes his head solemnly.
"it's just... it feels like you never want to hang out with me anymore. I don't know. I've been trying to make excuses for us to finally spend some time together but everytime you say no. I know that you're busy and all, and parties aren't exactly your thing, but you usually love halloween so I just thought..." he pauses, taking a deep breath. "it just... hurts. hurts that despite living with you I barely get to see you."
you interlace your hand with his, something you know that has always brought him comfort. you squeeze, letting out a little sigh, watching as he refuses to look at you as pink dusts his cheeks. you mull it over quickly as he looks at you at the feeling of your hand. "I'll go to the party." you say, despite knowing full well that you'd rather die than attend it. you'd truly do just about anything for your bestfriend.
"really?" he says, eyes wide as his signature smile begins forming again on his face. "you'll go? seriously?"
you shrug. "yeah, sure. who knows, it may be fun. hopefully, atleast."
venti nods eagerly, thumbing at your hand in delite. "great! you won't regret it, I promise. I'll tell you more about it later. oh [name], we'll have a blast, I swear on it." venti produces this wide, toothy grin, smiling down at you like you just told the man that he won a life-times supply of wine.
"thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd love to keep you here, but now that you've sealed the deal with me, you should start to get going." you check the time and he's right, you really should. shit, you're gonna be late for your class.
-----♡
you still have the very first letter he sent to you.
that fact is something you remember when your eyes land on the calendar on your wall as you hastily get ready for class. many of the days are crossed out, with only a handful remaining until the last day of the month; october 31st, the faithful day you will meet your penpal.
you still cant believe you're meeting him. the days—months, even— before you two came into contact are still a haze in the back of your mind. it was a little after your mind had become frazzled in the aftermaths of a messy, sudden breakup. during that time you had spent more time holding yourself inside an isolated cacoon than you'd like to admit.
the break up (that's still too much of an open wound for you to even want to think about right now) had honestly shook you to your core, making you crave some time alone, time to think and reflect on what had happened and on yourself. you spent most of your time away from everyone who wasn't venti (who, to be fair, you didn't really have a choice of getting away from in the first place, even if you had wished to).
however, there was an issue you couldn't ignore. despite the sheer largeness of the student population at your university, and how many people you know through your more than social roommate, you've always felt an incredible loneliness, a loneliness that was only worsened after the breakup.
for weeks on end you had craved some sort of connection, a fresh start, someone you could talk to that was your friend and not just venti. luckily, one day you had stumbled upon something while scrolling through your school's forum, a beacon of light.
it was a post where you could apply to be a penpal.
the idea seemed fun to you. all you had to do was submit a short bio of yourself, say some stuff you're into, what kind of penpal you were interested in, and your school mailbox. after that, you'd simply just have to wait and see if someone had took interest in you.
you honestly weren't expecting much, but you were pleasantly surprised when a few different people had actually sent in letters after a couple days. one was in reply to a letter you sent to someone who also posted their bio. another was in response to yours. the one that had stuck with you most, though, was one from an unrecognizable address off campus with an even less recognizable name attached.
and there it was, a glimmering sheet of the potential to get out of your slump right inside of your mailbox.
who was he? you couldn't help but be intrigued, and after reading over the letter the mysterious stranger (penpal?) had sent, you felt more than inclined to respond, quickly creating a relationship with the man who you would soon end up considering a close friend.
truth be told, you had obsessed over his letters, partially out of curiosity, and partially out of the way you felt so connected to this newfound friend despite never having spoken to him before. he always wrote them in a hasty, cursive script, sometimes a little smudged. many words were always scribbled out, as if constantly trying to find the best words to say, causing large blotches of the paper to be stained with dark ink. and yet the words themselves were soft and delicate. he never wrote with intensity. and he never wrote much about himself, either.
the extent of personal things he'd share eith you were limited to things like a song he was really into at the moment, a book he read recently, an assignment he was working on, or a quiet spot around or near campus he discovered. every once in awhile he'd honor you with a small little story about his life, but most of the time he'd spend his letters asking about details on yours. no matter how hard you tried to stir the conversation towards him, he always brought it back towards you, you, you. any question you'd ask would be met with short answers, or would simply just pivot back to asking about you.
you couldn't lie and pretend like it didn't fuel and egg on your curiosity. he always wrote just enough to keep you intrigued, making you feel insatiable, always wanting to know more. and yet, despite your best efforts, your mysterious penpal never gave up any more information than you needed to know.
you have a mental compilation of the upmost important details of him: the first is that he, of course, obviously goes to the same school as you, that's a given. there'd be no way he would've become your penpal otherwise. he lives off-campus, though, like you do.
the second is that he's in the same year as you, and you think he's somewhere in the history department, again, like you are. that means you've probably atleast seen him around at some point.
the third, and most important, is that he (atleast from what he alludes to) has some sort of past he rather not bring up, some past wounds and scars he'd rather not show, something that makes him keep his barriers up.
and that wall is thick. you've spent more hours than you can think pensively thinking about the identity behind the smudged ink, but to no avail. you didn't even know his real name. 'alatus' was what he told you to call him, but it's clear the name was just nothing more than a childhood nickname.
then, one day, you had opened up the newest letter he had sent and to your surprise, the sole thing written on the sheet of paper was a simple sentence and a string of numbers right under it— a phone number, his phone number. it read, "I want to be able to talk to you more than we can through these letters."
and talk, you two did.
maybe it's the ability to talk to him continously without having to await until you recieve a new letter, but you two had talked a lot, quickly becoming closer and closer. while you made sure to not sure anything too personal, you had shared much of your life with him, sometimes telling him things even venti didn't know. and sometimes, on rare occasions, he'd share something back, just enough for you to be ever craving more.
that craving was promised to be satiated after he had asked you something one night after talking for hours.
alatus: can we meet? we don't have to if you're not comfortable, of course, but I'd like to see you.
of course you said yes.
you: but how will I know it's you when I see you? you: tell me something special about yourself. some way I can know it's you when I see you alatus: I have nothing special about myself to tell you.
you: that's got to be a lie. of course you have something special about yourself. just give me something to identify you with or something, pleaseee alatus: the only thing that I can tell you is that I like the color blue. you: that doesn't tell me anything alatus: it tells you more than enough, you'll see.
that conversation happened a little over a month ago, and despite how much you've talked to him since then, you know not much more about him than you did before.
after finishing your routine and getting ready for class, you make sure to pick up a marker before you leave, crossing out yesterday's date. you only have just a few more 'x's' before you meet him.
ーーー☆
if there was one thing you hated more than having to leave a perfectly warm bed in the mornings everyday, it'd be the busy morning trains.
nothing feels more terrible (atleast in your grumpy, groggily morning mindstate) than being pushed and shoved by people with no basic understanding of personal space, or having to listen to the chattering loud noises of business men talking way too loud for comfort on their phone, or having to be painfully alert of just what stop you're getting off at when you're so tired and sluggish that you're genuinely wondering if your morning classes are even worth attending (you're definitely gonna schedule your classes different next semester, you can't help but think).
but if there's one thing that makes these trainrides even remotely better, one small but sole and detrimental saving grace, it's familiar faces.
you're never in the mood to talk during the mornings, mind too occupied on other things to handle maintaining even the most basic of conversations, but sometimes having someone accompany you makes you feel less lonely in a room (or in this case, a train cart) full of people, and that counts for atleast something. there's part of you that wishes that venti had accompanied you today on your way to classes even though his classes don't start till much later. your mental state is practically begging for some absentminded chatter to keep it occupied (venti always had a talent for talking when needed and distracting you from just about everything wrong in life, a talent that you're craving to bless you with right now).
luckily for you, though, as your eyes trail around the crowded train, you find something equally as distracting as a close friend would be.
you're still so, so utterly sleepy, but as your eyes trail to a glint of green (specifically the faded color you get after not redying your once vibrant blue hair in a long time), you suddenly feel a bit more awake, making eyecontact with the man that, no matter how much you try, seems to never not glare at you with his piercing golden eyes.
it's definitely not uncommon to see xiao on the same morning train as youーhell, it's not even uncommon for you to see him on the same night train as you, despite how sporadic the times you leave campus to go home isー considering you two share numerous classes with eachother (classes you're almost sure from limited knowledge that he's not actually into, classes that genuinely make you stop and wonder how and why xiao chose to be in them). but the sight of him makes your heart race a little, both at the way he steals quick glances at you before looking away, and at the way you find yourself silently intrigued by him, especially by just what his constant glances (and glares) could possibly mean mean.
despite his catish looks, xiao is a beautiful person, you think, fingers tightening around the train pole to keep your balance as your mind fills up with thoughts on the man infront of you.
he's pretty.
you feel eyes on you as you move to look away, not wanting to stare at him for long enough to seem like a creep (though unbeknownst to you, xiao does not share that same sentiment), instead moving to put in your earbuds and tune out all other chattering in the train, drowning it out with your music as you let yourself absentmindedly think of xiao. you noted that he looked exhausted, even moreso than usual, as though he'd been up all night just like you had. his hair was messy, thrown up in a half up half down style that framed his pierced face and ears perfectly in it's own imperfect way, and his eyebags match the overall tired feel he has going on. some things never change, you think.
you remember all the way back when you were just a college freshmen, locking eyes with the man for the first time ever in your life (though it wasn't by any means the first time his eyes laid upon you) just like you had moments prior. you vividly recall the way your breath hitched and your body stilled, the way you stared at him for far too long, the way your eyes glanced over all of him, as though trying to etch him into your memory.
it was like a scene from one of those teen romcoms you and venti watch whenever you're bored and want to hangout on saturdays, those scenes that feel too magical to ever even be considered as a possibility of happening in real life, only this time nothing truly spectacular came out of the moment. the occurance wasn't special, not by any means, but when your eyes locked with his the world seemed to stop and it was as though you two were the only ones in the world.
back then, his hair wasn't dyed the two iconic tones of blue he now rocks (or atleast, used to, before it faded out), nor did he have nearly as many expressive piercings and tattoos decorating his body further. instead, xiao was just... xiao; a blank slate begging to be covered in the self expressive forms xiao later delved deep into. there's always this soft frown on his face and eyes that are practically begging to be stared into.
the first thing you had noted back then (and even now as they grow in desperation) were his borderline begging eyes. begging to be seen. begging to be comforted. begging to be heard. eyes are the windows to the soul, and in xiao's case, xiao's windows lead into a home that has far too much going on, a home with curtains trying to shield people from looking inside, though they're far too sheer to actually do their jobs. a lonely soul. his eyes themselves weren't dead or empty, just... tired, as though they constantly scour around in attempt to find meaning in everyday life. the beautiful gold was and still is accented by horridly dark circles, and the thing you've never noticed about xiao is the way his eyes glimmer and sparkle a little when they meet yours. perhaps you don't pay attention to him as much as you think, as much as he would to you.
if you did, you'd know he found meaning you.
it's an admittedly comforting sight, moody and drowning like the deepest of oceans despite their gold glimmer, human. they make you feel seen, but most of all, they glare deep into the part of you that wants so heavily to just be there for him as though he's silently pleading for your attention. it looks like he's begging to be hugged and loved, or more specifically, to be loved back.
there's a part of you that wondered if half of the purpose of his appearance change was to intimidate people from trying to figure him out, to pretend as though his eyes weren't as desperate for comfort as they truly were.
and in that same exact (anticlimactic) moment, you came to the realization that everyone has a life just as deep and complex and layered as yoursーsonderー, and you furthermore realized that you want to know each and every complexity that the blue haired man in front of you had. you had found it unfair that you didn't know everything there was to know about him, and even now, as you stare and once again memorize the features you should already have etched into your head by now, mind trailing to the thought of just how many opportunities you've had to learn all there is to know about them that you didn't take, that fact still hasn't changed despite how many opportunities you had to over the past few years. xiao has remained the blank slate he was two years prior, no matter how dearly you wished otherwise.
perhaps that's your true downfall as a human being. curiosity is a curse. somethings are better left unknown, just like the identity of the man you've met online.
either way, no ones ever felt more like home then xiao did. though you? you're his entire universe and more.
now as your eyes shamefully lingers on him once more, wanting to get one last look at him before you have to get off the train due to reaching your (and his) destination, you come to a revelation.
xiao looks like the color blue.
ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆
you: how'd you sleep last night?
you: maybe we should've slept earlier, I'm on my way to class right now and feel super exhausted
alatus: sorry. I shouldn't have kept you up. if it's worth anything, I'm really tired too.
alatus: I don't regret it though.
you: I don't either, but I will say I do regret asking you for that hint. haven't stoped thinking about it ever since I asked for it lol
alatus: really?
you: yeah, saw this guy on my commute to school and instantly thought about the color blue. it felt so weird
you: I don't think he even likes blue lol
alatus: yeah? what'd he look like?
you: like someone who hates colors as a whole
ーーー☆
today hadn't been the best of days for you.
you knew from the way professor zhongli had eyed you up and down as you walked into his classroom, mumbling a soft and short apology for being a few minutes late, that you should've just stayed home today. there was a nauseating glint in his eyes as they trailed after you, watching as you sat down. everyone else was eerily quiet, as though trying not to awake a sleeping dragon, causing anxiety to shoot through your veins. something was wrong.
"glad you've finally graced us with your presence, [name]. perhaps you'd like to inform the class as to why you were late today?" he speaks, uncaring of the lesson he was teaching just seconds ago, far more interested in chastizing you for just how disappointing you've been as of late. you squirm in your seat, chewing on the bottom of your lip as you think of what to say.
"I..." he doesn't give you a chance to truly explain himself. he rolls up the long sleeves of his white button up, heels clicking against the tiles of the floor as he walks to your desk.
"surely you've stayed up late studying for my class to make up for the sloppy quality of work you've been turning in as of late, correct?" he speaks lowly in his what would otherwise be soothing voice, but all it does is make the moment more embarrasing, more intimate as you feel the pitied stares of your classmates.
you don't respond. you can't, really. it's as though your lips are sealed with the weight of the poison laced on his words. the best you can do is fidget with your hands, already beginning to hold back tears, lip quivering as you try not to let your professor's notoriously ruthless teaching methods get to you. you could be sassy and catty with venti considering how close you two are, sure, but you could never be able to speak up against the domineering man infront of you.
"youー" zhongli isn't able to get a full word into his sentence before stopping as he hears the door to the class open once again. you're don't dare look back, but you do hear a quiet, mumbled apology for being late, and just from the tone alone you can tell it's coming from xiao. you watch as zhongli shakes his head at the sight, entire body radiating disappointment, and yet he doesn't give xiao the same scolding he gave you, saving him from the embarrasment.
what a biased dick, you think.
he shakes his head, sighing, deciding to save his energy. "... see me after class, [name]. you seem to be having a rough day, so I'll try to stop myself from adding onto your stress as much as possible. but please understand that in the future, lateness is unacceptable in this class. you should know this by now." the way he speaks is almost gentle, a lot more sweeter, as though he's simply just disappointed in you, but you know deep inside that there's more to his thiny veiled act of trying to parent you than meets the eye, a darker intent. you hate it, and you hate how you can't speak up, but you're grateful he spared you atleast some of his scolding, so you instead resort to simply nodding as zhongli goes back to teaching his class as though nothing ever happened.
-----♡
you spent the better half of your lecture worrying more about what was to come after than on the actual lesson itself. you refused to make zhongli's eyes, far too scared that if you were to make contact with his piercing ones that you'd lose all your resolve in an instant. time couldn't have gone by slower, but eventually, after what felt like days of waiting, the lecture was finally wrapped up for the day, and you watched as everyone shuffled out of the room except you and the professor himself.
"today's class felt longer than usual, hm?" zhongli attempts to joke as though to lighten the mood, but you don't dare to respond. you hear him sigh at the way you don't respond, accompanied by the quiet shuffling of paper as he makes his way to you. god, you want to be home right now.
"I wanted to talk about your performance in my class, [name]. please take a look at this," he slides a familiar looking group of stapled papers onto your desk, one that you hesistantly look at, only to wish that you had eyes at all in an instant at the sight.
you wish the world would simply swallow you whole at the sight of bright, red ink, showing a blaring '40%' at the upper right corner of the assignment you'd spent hours slaving over for, breath hitching in shock. you feel sick to your stomach, as though the red was the same red you'd see in the aftermath of a murder, only this time, the thing being brutally killed is your own ego.
you could've lived a good, long, healthy life without seeing such a ghastly sight.
"it's certainly not bad, but you could be... better. much better. I expect more from you. you know that. and I know you. you can do much better than this sloppy work you've been handing in lately." he speaks, shattering your heart word by word.
throughout your years at this school you've had your far share of lower grades, and you've always managed to take them with stride. this was different, though. every student knows that in all of the classes zhongli's teaches, anything less than perfect is practically a death sentence.
"but I..."
"no buts. I would love an explanation, however, if you have one to give me."
you don't have an explanation. you've been working hard just as you have since you started taking his classes sophmore year, so why are you suddenly now failing so terribly? you shake your head at himーthis must be a mistake. a big, big mistake.
"...you're on scholarship student, aren't you?" you nod your head, knowing full well that had it not been for the full ride you've been given, you wouldn't even be setting foot near this building, let alone this classroom. "you do want to keep attending this school, don't you? you'd likely lose your scholarship if you don't improve soon. we both know full and well how finicky administration are with grades."
you try your hardest to hold back tears as the papers in your hand begin to slightly crumble from the force of your grip on them at the sheer thought of losing the very thing allowing you to go here. one even goes as far as to fall, splattering against the once prestine white sheet, soaking in and feathering out and smudging the blue pen ink that you used to write your oh-so-unimpressive answers with.
you wonder just where exactly things went wrong; you had worked so hard on this assignment, how could it not be 'good enough?' most importantly, how were you supposed to impress him? wasn't your sheer effort enough? you gave it all of your all, but he still somehow wants more, though you're not exactly sure how much you have left to give to him.
he watches your form with pity. his eyebrows furrow as he bends down a little to meet your eye thats paying far too much attention to the floor beneath. a gloved hand takes your face in his palm, thumbing at your eyes so as to wipe your tears away, but it does nothing to comfort you.
"poor thing. this entire ordeal must be stressful for you.... perhaps you can have one of the teacher assistants help you. I'd suggest ganyu, but as of late, she's been busy, and I'd assume you'd be better off getting tutored by someone actually in the same course as you. you and xiao seem to be getting along lately, though I know he has a rough surface. perhaps you could melt through that barrier though. I can tell you can. I can speak to him, if you'd like."
you honestly can't comprehend his words with the way your pounding heart is much more louder than his soft tone of voice. your lip quivers as you attempt to meet his eye. you can't find the strength in you to reply.
"will you atleast consider trying to get into contact with him?" he asks after no response. you shakily nod, albeit hesitantly, and he gently lets go of your face at the notion, smiling lightly.
"good. it'd be a shame to see you lose the scholarship you worked so hard on attaining. make me proud, [name]. you've always been my star student. I trust that you and the extra help at your disposal will resolve this little issue you're having. you have my private number, correct?" you nod again, much to his pleasure.
"please contact me whenever you desire. I can set-up one on one time to make sure you're caught up to speed. now get to your other classes for me, okay? I'm sure you have a long day ahead of you."
'a long day' is an understatement, you think, because your day feels blue, moody, as dark as the clouded sky. you wonder briefly how you can cover up your frustration before anyone at your next class sees. you suddenly feel a seering hatred for the soft pitter patter that rings against the windows that seem to mock you and the fact that you didn't stay in the coziness of your bed today.
perhaps you should have stayed home after all.
ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆
you: gonna be home late, going to the library to study. start dinner without me
you: today sucked bad
venti: what's wrong?????? what happened???? come home please, you know I don't like you staying out after dark, especially when your upset
you: im okay. I think zhongli is the worst professor I've ever had though seriously
venti: did something happen?!?!?!? I'm sorry ): we can hug when you get home okay? and talk it out? whatever you wanna do.
you: yeah, thanks. actually kind of need that hug rn. gna go to the library
venti: okay, stay safe... call me?
you: can't. it's pouring outside so i have to go. see you soon though.
ーーー☆
you find yourself growing tired of this routine.
it wasn't a terrible one, not by any means, but the days are truly starting to blend in with one another. everyday, you wake up, go to class, pray your work is up to the hightened standards of professor zhongli (and all of the other freakishly stern teachers here, for that matter), study, go home again, and prepare yourself to it all over again tomorrow. if you're lucky, your roommate breaks your routine just a bit, forcing you through whatever shenanigans he deems fit for that given night. eitherway you were tired, desperate to forget about today's stresses. maybe venti was right; a party would take the edge off.
atleast your other classes, apart from one taught by professor dottore (which you luckily didn't have today), weren't as bad as zhongli's.
nonetheless, after hours of studying in the warmth and comfort of your campus library without interruption (minus the time when your two friends albedo and sucrose had asked if you needed any help, to which you declined) felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier and your energy strained, begging you to simply go home and rest for the night.
the train is crowded as expected, and almost all the seats were taken apart from a few that were just made empty after people got off the stop. you take it, too tired to stand for the rest of the trip home after the long day that you had. but honestly, you're starting to think that whoevers in charge of the universe is seriously playing a joke on you or something, becauss someone takes the open seat right next to you as you sit down, and it's the person you least were expecting to have to sit alongside. xiao.
he looks a little out of breath, as though he ran to catch the train. he makes no effort to even acknowledge the fact that you're seated right next to him as he plays music through his headphones. even so, xiao is a beaming light in the sea of tuxed business men who hate their jobs and gloomy faced riders tired of the long day.
quite frankly, you're lucky you even got a seat, even if it meant having to sit next to the man you cannot get out of your head despite how much you think he dislikes you.
the sheer crowdedness of the train makes it so that you're pressed flushed against him, feeling the emmense amount of body heat emitting from his body. if you were any less exhausted, you'd be freaking out right now from the proximity, and honestly, you kinda still are, but you're too tired to truly feel weighed down by it.
you actively had to fight hard from going unconscious right then and there from how tired you are. you really didn't want to fall asleep on the train, but god, today was just so long, and xiao (who still hasn't even so much as glanced your way) is so warm, and such a comforting presence, and your feet ache and you didn't sleep much last night and you'd do anythibg to just get some rest.
it's a battle you lose. your body shuts down after a few minutes of trying your absolute hardest to just stay awake until you arrived to your stop, eyes drooping closed as you fall asleep next to xiao.
as you fall asleep onto xiao, as it comes to be.
Tumblr media
104 notes · View notes
thevashstampede · 9 months
Note
does this villain show you're rbing fanart of actually have that much homoeroticism in it im curious
What, Scum Villain??? Um. Yes, yes it does.
4 notes · View notes
marrcelos · 1 year
Text
lorenzo  zurzolo.  he/him.  cis male.    ›  spotted  at  the  met  steps,  marcelo  ‘mars’  valmount, most  likely  listening  to  hell  is  where  i  dreamt  of  u  and  woke  up  alone  by  blackbear  with  their  airpods  pro.  the  twenty  three  year  old  gained  quite  a  reputation,  known  to  be  - materialistic  yet  + determined  to  anyone  who  knows  them.  you’ll  easily  spot  them  when  you  hear  about   arguing  in  italian  over  the  phone  with  his  mother, nearly  shivering  in  disgust  at  the  sight  of  chipped  nail  polish, snorting  lines  of  coke  off  his  phone  as  his  agent  urgently  calls  him, designer  high  end  items  tossed  carelessly  as  if  they  have  no  value, claiming  it’s  'my  way  or  the  highway’ ,  followed  by  toy  boy  by  moschino.  latest  nepoupdates  article  talks  about  him  'allegedly’  hooking  up  with  a  married  teacher  at  university,  but  i  guess  any  reputation  is  good  reputation.  
Tumblr media Tumblr media
basic stats ;
⟶ full name: marcelo leonardo valmount ⟶ nicknames: goes by mars, doesn’t mind being called marcelo either ⟶ three things he likes: getting high, discovering new vegan recipes, black nail polish ⟶ three things he dislikes: chipped nail polish, people who instigate, scary movies ⟶ gender: cis male ⟶ height: 5 ‘ 8 ⟶ age: twenty three ⟶ birthday: december 8, 1999 ⟶ zodiac: sagittarius sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio ascendant ⟶ right handed or left handed: right handed ⟶ eye color: baby blue ⟶ hair color: dark brown ⟶ piercings and tattoos: a cartilage piercing on his right ear, a small hoop piercing on his left earlobe, no tattoos ⟶ languages spoken: italian, spanish, and english ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: homosexual / homoromantic ⟶ place of birth: upper east side, new york ⟶ last five songs listened to: testa tra le nuvole pt. 2 by alfa, maradona y pelé by thegiornalisti, judas by lady gaga, la musica non c’è by coez, hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone by blackbear ⟶ five aesthetics: black nail polish, snorting coke off your phone as your mom calls you, golden eyeliner, baby blue eyes gazing into the sunset, impulsively shopping when you’re stressed ⟶ character inspo: eric effiong from sex education, maxxie oliver from skins u.k, patrick blanco from elite
Tumblr media
background story ;
marcelo was born to an italian mother named martina incanti and an american father named richard valmount, the result of a high school love. his mother came from really old money, her parents owning hotel resorts called incanti inn ( literally equivalent to hilton hotels ) all around the world, while his father came from old money too, his parents owning a chain of water supplies ( similar to voss or smartwater ). regardless of how young his parents were, marcelo was practically born with a golden spoon in his mouth, spoiled to the bone and adored by his entire family
still, in every good story, there’s always a catch. before his mother came along, his father had impregnated another woman, meaning marcelo had an older half brother on his father’s side. when he was younger, he remembers his mother doing everything in her power to try and hide ace from him, but as time went on, she couldn’t stop the inevitable  –  marcelo eventually knew all about ace, even going as far as snooping around to figure out more things about his half brother
however, the curiosity to know one of his siblings went away as he realized what a problem ace and his mother were for his own mother and father, always being the number one cause of every fight they ever had. odds are that if marcelo’s parents were fighting, it had to do with ace, and he honestly grew sick of it 
was it really his fault that his father had chosen him and his mother instead and vice versa? admittedly, marcelo felt somewhat guilty about this as a kid, but the older he grew, the more okay with it he became. he figured that if his father had chosen them, it meant that he was obviously better than ace
this, and his entire upbringing, caused marcelo to grow a narcissistic complex. he began modeling at the tender age of six, for brands like gap, the children’s place, carter’s, you name it, and he’s probably modeled for it before. marcelo quickly became enamored with his looks, fully believing that first impressions and the way you looked to the world, was everything
he was also very academically intelligent, gifted in math and called the ‘human calculator’ by his teachers, as he could easily solve division, multiplication, addition and subtraction problems in his head without paper, in seconds. he went to a private, all boys school on the upper east side, singe handedly one of the best in the country
despite being book smart however, his real interest was in modeling and making a name for himself. in his early teen years, he booked a few commercials, and had a break through at fourteen when modeling for the popular luxury brand, gucci. when he was fifteen, he was officially signed to an agency, and from there on out, things grew more ‘intense’ for him, you could say
marcelo quickly realized just how big the competition was out there. for the first time, his last name didn’t mean anything to anyone, it was either bite or get bitten, and as much as he tried not to, he crumbled under pressure
! tws for eating disorders, fainting, hospitals and body dysphoria for the next four bullets, read with caution or skip over this if you’re triggered ! his habits start off so small at first, that he genuinely doesn’t see it as a problem. over exercising is only the beginning, but soon enough, he starts cautiously watching, and counting, the calories of the stuff he eats. when this isn’t proven to be enough, he switches to a vegan diet, and it just escalates from that point on
to be honest, he was never overweight. in fact, doctors would tell him he had to gain some weight in the past, but despite this, he didn’t feel good enough. more so, he felt like he could be better. he became obsessed with any little flaw he would pick out of himself and would work endlessly to fix it, or make it less noticeable. one of his more genuine friends in the modeling industry flat out told him he had a problem, but marcelo brushed it aside and kept ‘working’ on himself. by working on himself, i mean practically torturing himself with unhealthy diets and extreme exercise routines
the worst part is that he really didn’t think he had a problem. he struggled with an eating disorder and body dysphoria for six years, until one day, six months after his twenty first birthday, he ends up passing out during a photo shoot. waking up in the hospital, he’s told he has pretty bad malnutrition linked to an eating disorder and is recommended to seek help. at this point, he weighed ninety five pounds
it’s at this moment that he realizes that he’s not okay. this is a really rough time in his life, because not only do his parents find out about all his antics, but he feels ( somewhat forced ) to get better by not just them, but his friends and his fanbase. it’s also embarrassing for him, as this incident became publics news, so despite not being quite ready to get the help he needs, he ends up checking himself into an inpatient clinic in brooklyn that specializes in eating disorders and mental health. he’s there for three months and it’s basically hell for him, the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but… he does get better. by a lot. ends up gaining the weight he needs and see’s a nutritionist to work out a ( healthy ) vegan diet for him
after this rather dark time in his life, he decides to go to college to study psychology and minor in nutrition and dietetics. here is where you could say that he ‘finds himself’, as people do the craziest things in their college years. first off, he develops a nasty coke habit, as lots of people in the industry do. he likes the way coke takes away your hunger, and he enjoys the way it makes him feel on top of the world and focused. second of all, he realizes he’s pretty damn gay
to be fair, he’s always had an idea that he wasn’t straight, but he assumed ( wrongly ) that he was bisexual for the longest time. it isn’t until college that he realizes he isn’t really romantically interested in females, hooking up with ( a lot ) of guys
! tw for student/teacher relationship, general inappropriate relationships, read with caution of skip over this if you’re triggered ! to make his life even harder, marcelo begins secretly hooking up with a history professor, who is really only thirty two, but he’s married, and supposedly ‘straight’ to everyone. this relationship is inappropriate and truth be told, marcelo isn’t even sure why he does it to begin with. because he likes attention? because he’s a gay whore? the validation he gives him? point is that this goes on for a couple of months, until, if you guessed it, they get caught. thankfully, this is managed to be kept under wraps and the professor he had been hooking up with transfers to another college, unfortunately? it gets to the ears of his parents, and he’s forced to come out to them a month before his twenty third birthday
honestly, marcelo thought his mother would take it the wrong way. she’s italian, she’s religious, and old school, but surprisingly? she’s the most supportive of him, gives him a hug and tells him she’s going to love him no matter what. his father though? there’s a reaction he wasn’t expecting at all
‘why would you do this to me?’ ‘why are you choosing this lifestyle? have you not embarrassed us enough with this?’ ‘why are you like this marcelo?’ ‘it’s like i don’t even know you anymore’ ‘if i would’ve known my son would turn out to be a fucking queer, i would’ve chosen my other family’ are just some of the many hurtful things he’s told that very night. he never thought his father would be so against him being gay, and it actually really hurts his feelings more than he let on because growing up, he had a very good relationship with his father. he taught him how to play piano, he spoiled him to no end, he was always really supportive of his choices, but this? this was something richard was simply not living down
things become so awkward with his father, he uses the money he makes modeling and through sponsorships and social media to buy a luxury penthouse near his college, wanting to be far away from him. at this moment, he can’t help but wonder  –  is this how ace has felt his whole life? 
Tumblr media
headcanons ;
despite being fully recovered from his eating disorder, there are days where marcelo feels ready to give up. he wouldn’t go back to hurting himself the way he used to, but it’s still something he struggles with. he is really, really iffy about what he eats
ironically enough, he’s all about preaching about healthy living and eating right, then proceeds to take four lines of coke without even taking a break... hypocrite, much?
marcelo has thirty seven million followers on instagram and counting, and an equal amount on other social media platforms. he’s a model, an influencer, heir and a college student
he loves painting his nails. his favorite color to paint them is black, but he enjoys dark blue as well. he hates chipped nail polish, will literally run to get his nails re done the second he see’s a chip, usually does black gel or black powder dip
despite acting like he’s too good for everyone, marcelo secretly craves validation. whether it be with his friends or flings he’s had, he just wants to feel like he’s good enough for someone, because truthfully, despite having anything materialistic he could ever want, he doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of love, or deserving of it, but he craves it
he’s a huge vegan, has been a vegan for over a year now and will probably never go back. watch him look at you funny if he catches you eating a burger or something
marcelo loves animals, but is more of a cat person. he has a ragdoll cat he named draco meowfoy while drunk and would basically die for him
he’s been playing piano since he has five, but considers this to just be a fun hobby. he was taught by his father, and his top two favorite pieces to play are i love you by riopy and nuvole bianche by ludovico einaudi
he’s fluent in english, italian and spanish, and will strictly only speak in italian with his mother. despite not being born in italy, marcelo considers himself more italian than american
he loves music in italian too, especially italian love songs or italian edm songs. some of his favorite italian artists are shade, alfa and even thegiornalisti
he impulsively shops when he’s stressed, doesn’t even bother looking at the price tag anymore, just gets what he wants whenever he wants. he’s materialistic, and loves looking good
marcelo is the perfect definition of ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’ because he has everything anyone could ever want, but truthfully? he’s not happy. he feels alone, and no amount of shopping, drug usage, or partying, is going to fix that
i’m going to end this here because this is getting long, but below are some wanted connections and his birthchart!
Tumblr media
wanted connections ;
get in loser, we’re going shopping: shopping buddies, could be any gender, but they just go out and spend a fuck ton of money on stuff they don’t even need, probably a superficial relationship
who are you again?: hear me out, someone he gave head to at a party but genuinely doesn’t remember it, but your muse does. like ‘wait isn’t that the guy who sucked my dick?’ and marcelo is just like ‘ha ha.... do i know you?’ literally this level of black out drunk
not sure how we’re friends... i mean, look at your shoes: a pair of very, very unlikely friends. they’re not even sure how they became friends, but it’s surprisingly a genuine friendship, could be very wholesome
i know what you did in college: someone who knew he was hooking up with a professor from college. could go to the same college or could have just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. how this muse replies is entirely up to you, could think marcelo is a legend, or could seriously judge him, i’m open for whatever
it’s meant to be. look, we’re both eating vegan eggplant parmesan!: literally became friends because they’re both vegans. text each other about new vegan recipes or new vegan spots they find around town, share the same love of not eating, consuming or messing with any animal products at all, they said animals are friends, not food!
i hate your stinking guts: someone who doesn’t like him. he’s very easy to hate. very entitled and acts like he’s better than everyone. your muse could hate him, or he could hate your muse
what? you can hate people and still think they’re hot: a classic hate ship, open to males/nb. they claim to really not like each other, yet always end up in each others beds, whether they’re drunk or sober, whatever the case might be
you’ve seen me naked before: people ( guys ) he’s hooked up with. he’s a whore so this is open to multiple guys. whether they still hook up or not can be plotted
i tried to warn you from the start: someone in the industry like him, who saw him getting bad and tried to help him, but marcelo wouldn’t listen to them. could be any gender, but this muse genuinely tried to help him at his lowest and he would just shake them off with an ‘i’m fine’. marcelo reached out to this muse when he got out of the hospital to thank them for trying to make him see he had a problem
from afar, i guess: maybe someone who has a crush on him, but he has no idea? could be interesting to play out
need a girls night? get in here, bitch: female friends! give me females he’s very good friends with, a gay bff if you must, and they just gossip, talk shit, watch romcoms and get into all types of shenanigans together!
you were the first guy in my life: first guy he’s ever hooked up with, helped him realize he’s gay. they could be on bad terms, on good terms, friends, still hooking up, i’m open to any ideas!
or, we could brainstorm!
Tumblr media
birthchart ;
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes