Don’t Die On Me, Please.
Emily Davis x Jessica Riley
Emily ran around the mines, clueless to what the hell she was doing "Oh cmon cmon." emily would look around pointing the torch to every side, trying to find atleast something to help her.
Emily let out a whine of fear "Oh no no no no, no." emilys eyes began to get blurry as tears build up "Im stuck heree." emily let out a sob "Please..please please." emily sighs wiping her tears off her eyes to look back up "Okay, okay." she soon started her way to an exit all over again.
Emily gasps when she looks up to see something shine, she began to jog towards it "Oh god, yes yes yes!-" emily pauses and abruptly stops, her eyes widening as she sees a familiar blonde hair onto some type of elevator or gate? "Sam?" emily begins to walk slowly towards the blonde "Jess?" emily tightens her eyes shut in fear as she steps closer "Jess? Sam?" emily takes a hold of her necklace in fear as she slowly opens her eyes just for them to widen again.
She found the corpse of her bestfriend of years ago, jess with her jaw ripped off the inside of her mouth showing, her tongue hanging out uselessly with drool dripping, there were wet tears running down her face, the gashes on her cheek and nose were showing the inside of her face muscles, jessica clothing was ripped and bloodied, her eyes staring to the side, she seemed to have just been killed, everything was still fresh.
Emily ignores the nausea growing in her stomach though a gag slips out her mouth feeling her mouth get full of saliva, emily begins to gag even more making her drop the torch dropping it making the fire go out "F-Fuh-" emily bends over holding a wall, throwing up her insides.
Emily wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and soon turns around back to the blonde "Jess..oh god jess!" emily drops down to her knees to kneel down, grabbing jessicas hand to pull her up "Jess..jess." emilys bottom lip trembles as she rocks back and forth "Jess, i got you i got you." emily bites down hard on her bottom lip tasting the metalic taste on her tongue "Jess..please wake up, im sorry." emily holds jessicas head onto her chest holding it with both of her hands pressing her lips onto jessicas head, ignoring how jessicas tongue and saliva running felt on her collarbone. Her words muffled by blonde matted bloodied hair "Im sorry, im-im so sorry." emily knew jess wouldn’t respond but she was too deep in denial and trauma.
"Jess..please wake up, i-i forgive you..i didn’t mean what i said to you-" emily gets cut off by a cry she let out "Jess..please." emily lets out a whine "Jess, jessi, Jessica." emily holds the back of her head to slowly place her onto the floor, emily holds jessicas face in her hands trying not to look at how her jaw was ripped off her face but emily kept failing, the reminder of her death made her let out bigger tears "Jess, its okay- im going..im going to save you okay? its okay." emily gets on jess to straddle her, trying to recesitate her by pushing her hands on jessicas chest though only blood and drool would spit back onto emilys face.
"Cmon jessica." emily pushes even more "Don’t leave me, your my best friend." emilys tears drop down onto jessicas face and mouth "Jessica, its okay. Your going to live." emily didn’t even believe what she was saying to herself anymore.
"You promised we would grow old, together." emily kept pushing onto jessicas chest grunting and sobbing "Jess..don’t leave me." emily pushes even harder just to have jessica spit out blood onto emilys face again "Jessica." emilys tears still flow down her face "Jess, your awake right?" emily ignores the high pitch monster like scream and fire sounding somewhere, emily begans to laugh nervously "Your awake right jess? Jess?" emily began to laugh even more, her bottom lip began to tremble when she makes eye contact with jessica again, corpse jessica. "Jess! this isn’t funny." emily let out a sob.
"Je-Jess." emilys began to tremble as she cried even harder leaning over to place her face onto jessicas chest to silence her cries, letting out a whine "Jess." emily couldn’t even believe she was crying like this, going crazy like this "Hey, girl." emily stiffens lifting her head to see a man with googles and a flame thrower in his hands.
Emily grabs jessica into her arms ignoring how limp and cold jess was compared to her own warm skin "No, don’t come closer." the man ignores her plead "You have to leave, this place isn’t safe for you." emily shakes her head "No you can’t- i can’t leave her." emily looks down to see the ring that jess always wore, emily slips it down jessicas finger to put it in her pocket just to then grip jessicas limp hand into hers interwining their fingers.
A loud screech is heard making the man snap his head up to the sound but emily didn’t even bother "Get outta here!" the man rips her off jessicas corpse "NO!! PLEASE!" the man turns to a door that seemed boarded up just to break it open and push emily out making her slide down "NOO!! JESS! PLEASE!" the man shouts something before tossing a bag down to emily.
"Jess..im so sorry." emily grips the ring she took from jessicas finger, slipping it onto her ring finger. She looks down at the ring before pressing her lips onto it and letting out a cry.
"Im so sorry." She didn’t even have the time to tell jessica how she felt.
And jessica didn’t either.
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Could I request "cooking is an art form" with mahiru and presumbly orekoto? I read your Night drabble of those 2 and now the idea of a potential friendship has been stuck in my mind for days, that was probably the sweetest interpretation of him I've seen! Mahiru can't cook in the current state she's in though so I guess orekoto could act as her hands...?
Ah thank you so much!! I was so worried about doing Orekoto justice, that's so exciting you enjoyed 😭 We still don't have a ton of characterization for him, so bear with me, but I absolutely loved writing this. Thank you so much for the request -- with food playing such an important role in Mahiru's story/symbolism, and the pair's unique relationship, this made me so crazy to think about !!!
The knife twirled through Mikoto’s hands. He brought it down with a grunt. Emotion pulsed through his veins. He went back for another swipe, much harder than necessary. He wiped spatter from his face.
“You’re making a mess.” Mahiru observed from behind.
He glanced back to find her scowling at the tomato he was taking out his frustration on. “Who gives a shit? We’re not on cleanup duty.”
He wasn’t supposed to be on cooking duty, either. It was Mahiru’s night according to their usual rotation, but she was in no shape to do any physical activity. Mikoto must have volunteered, and also gotten into some fight about it, because now there he stood: angry at an unknown source, full of adrenaline, and worst of all, in charge of tonight’s curry.
“I suppose…” Mahiru said. “I think that’s Muu tonight, I’ll apologize to her later.”
It was unsettling, how she remained positively cheery as she walked him through each step of the recipe, despite her current condition and his bad attitude. Not that he’d ever turn his anger on her. Mikoto approved of her, and that was enough for him. She’d been going through so much at the hands of their common enemy, he wouldn’t say a single thing against her. Even as she tested his temper with her cooking instructions.
“No, no!” With her good hand, she tugged on the side of his uniform. “You have to turn the carrot as you cut it. Like -- yes, like that!”
Mikoto rolled his eyes as he did what he was told. “It’s all going to get cooked together anyways, it’s not a big deal.”
“It is! You have to take your time with things like this.” She placed her hand over her heart. “It’s about the process, not just the final product. Cooking is an art form!”
“It’s about the final product to me. I’m fucking starving.”
She was briefly distracted with the next set of instructions, telling him how to combine everything over how much heat. When she returned to the topic, her lighthearted voice was laced with a bit of desperation. “I mean it, there’s something magical about pouring your heart into something for someone else. Putting in your time. A little finesse here and there.”
“I know what it’s like to do something for someone else -- and there is absolutely no finesse involved. Or potatoes.” He gestured to the cut pieces before dumping everything into the pot over the stove.
“One of the most universal love languages is food, you know? People make meals and treats for their loved ones in every culture, in every time.”
“They do a lot of other things, too.”
“You went to art school, you understand. This is an expression of yourself!”
“It’s a waste of time.”
“It’s the surest way to help someone!”
“That’s a load of bullshit.”
There was a pause. Then a nervous laugh. Then, “yeah.” As she dropped into more uncharacteristic silence, he stole a glance at her.
Tears poured from her eyes.
“Mahiru?” Fuck, he didn’t mean to make her cry.
“It is.” she hiccuped. “I thought… I thought it could save him. I made this big meal… I thought… But I was so stupid…”
She buried her face in her hands, offering weak apologies for the sudden outburst. He threw the lid over the pot before stepping back to her.
“Hey, hey. Come on. Don’t cry.” It was a command rather than a comfort.
She didn’t listen. She just continued sobbing and blubbering on. “It was all stupid, worthless… I should have known…”
He crouched by the wheelchair. There didn’t even seem to be anything wrong, they’d just been talking about food. Why was she such a mess? He gave an impatient sigh. No reaction. What was Mikoto’s nickname for her again? “Listen, Mappi --”
She snapped her head up to look at him.
Her teary eyes flicked all over his face, making him scowl. “What?”
“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed, though her breath still hitched. “Sorry. You said… and well… I thought you’d gone away. I want you to stay.” She took his hand. “You.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because you understand me.”
He did not. Like, at all. But he kept his mouth shut.
Thankfully, she was too talkative not to explain herself. “You love someone very much. That love turned out to be dangerous -- deadly. And you weren’t forgiven for it.” She pressed her lips together, suppressing the wave of emotion that almost overcame her. “And now we’re both getting what we deserve for it.”
“Like hell we are.” He felt the spark of rage again. “Neither of us deserve any of this shit, okay?”
“But --”
“No.” He glared at her. That familiar fire rose up inside him. “I’m tired of all your speeches and optimistic crap. You’re always falling over yourself for others. You’re pathetic. This place is hell, so you need to get your shit together and act like it. You might be willing to forgive the others, you might be able to treat them with that stupid sweetness all the time, but no one’s going to do the same for you. Stop letting them fuck with you.”
She gaped at him. He realized he’d leaned in very close. He prepared himself for more tears, or maybe some cowering away from him. Good. Mikoto didn’t need people like her who would convince him this verdict was deserved. He didn’t need any of these people. It was fine to push them all away.
Mahiru surprised him by leaning over. Her head rested on his chest. “It’s hard. It’s so hard, Mikoto. But… I’ll try.”
His attention was quickly ripped away by a hissing behind him. He yanked himself away from her to run to the curry, which was bubbling and burning and spilling out of the pan all over the stovetop.
With an outpouring of profanities and clattering of dishes, he cleaned the sad remains of dinner off the burner. When he looked back at Mahiru, she had dabbed at her eyes and composed herself slightly.
“It’s okay,” she said, “I’ll pick something easier you can make instead.”
“Nah, I’ll make more curry. Tell me how much of everything again.”
“A-alright.”
His agitation slowly faded as she began her gentle instructions again. Though he had just tore her apart for it, he was grateful for her patience with everyone around her. He probably could have left, then, seeing how calm the kitchen became. But he wasn’t risking ruining the meal a second time with an unexpected switch.
And maybe Mahiru’s words still played through his mind.
The food was back on the stove in no time. He stood diligently next to it. They’d lapsed into a content silence. He still didn’t know what had set her off earlier, but wasn’t about to ask questions.
Mahiru had regained her usual bright smile. “Hey, when I get better, I’ll cook something for you, okay? I think you don’t appreciate cooking because no one’s made something special for you before. I want to do that.”
He sneered. “Heh, sure. And I’ll let you in on my preferred art form.” His words were layered with sarcasm. By now, she could guess that included destroying things by putting all of one’s might behind a powerful swing.
But she giggled, completely unfazed. “Well, friendship is about give and take, right? I’d love to try.”
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what makes xiaoven possible from ventis pov in canonverse? what are some reasons why he would get along w xiao, esp to the point of love?
i see this a lot, actually. a lot of people who aren't xv shippers don't see how they would like each other, and i especially saw for a while at the start people saying venti would never love xiao for "freedom" reasons or whatever. but if someone really thinks venti wouldn't get along with xiao or vice versa, i know they don't actually look at the characters beyond surface interpretation and fanon characterization.
because xiao is exactly the type of person venti is drawn to. before or beyond romance. i mean, look at vennessa--she is, in my mind, very similar to xiao: someone who is trapped and wishes for freedom, someone who is forced to fight when that's not who they want to be, someone who becomes one of the only things between their nation and those who want to destroy it. they're both kind-hearted, deep down, gentle souls who have been given a role in life that pains them (and even after life, in regards to vennessa and celestia). they both fight for the freedom of their people, because they know it's the only thing they can do. and, though we don't know much about the nameless bard, we can assume he was similar to them as well. out of everyone in mond, the nameless bard and vennessa were the ones venti was drawn to. out of everyone in liyue, xiao is the only one we know of who has the power of anemo and has been saved/freed by venti in the same way vennessa was: given just enough to fight for themselves. if venti had not played for xiao that night, he would have been lost to the karma and as far as we're aware, he hasn't been that close to losing it ever since.
venti is very intelligent. he's very compassionate. he's very supportive and understanding. and he's very much drawn to people like xiao. xiao is different from vennessa in that he's had a lot longer to build his walls and be stuck in his rut. so the way venti approaches him is likely a much more delicate dance than what he did with vennessa or the nameless bard. it would take a lot more time. and, despite what most people think, venti doesn't actually bail out when the going gets tough. we see that 100% in how he was with us to face dvalin and how he took down durin with dvalin during the cataclysm--leading durin away from the city and to the mountain, both to protect his people from the dragon itself and the dragon's corrupted corpse.
i think he'd 100% be persistent in wiggling through xiao's walls to at least become his friend, even if just because he thinks xiao needs one. most people seem to think he'd get bored with xiao and how difficult he can be and just move on, but i think he's not so easily fooled. he knows there's more underneath who xiao seems to be on the surface. and he would, of course, slowly reveal the traits xiao has that make him so loveable: his gentleness, his kindness, his loyalty and devotion, his sense of responsibility, his care for liyue and its people, his selflessness, his strength (physically and emotionally), and, most importantly, his deep, deep, deep desire for freedom and peace. i think venti, of all people, would be the one who could see all of this despite the front xiao puts up.
and...how could he not fall in love?
because beyond who xiao is individually, he might also be one of the only people who could understand venti and his very specific grief. there are very few people still alive who went through the archon war, very few people who have lost in the way they have, who have had to live on in the way they have¹. that kind of shared past and pain can create a very strong bond and may be the catalyst for venti feeling like he doesn't have to put on an act around xiao--in fact, xiao is so blunt that it may draw venti away from that mask without him meaning to. and, especially after the Situation with signora, xiao might be one of the only people he can feel safe with.
he doesn't have to put on an act around xiao, he doesn't have to pretend he's not in pain, he doesn't have to worry about being hurt by someone else. he can literally just sit there and play and not say a single word but still be in the company of someone who understands him and i think that's something he very much needs sometimes.
yes, there would definitely be a period of time in which xiao sees him as Lord Barbatos but with a few pranks, antics, and general mischief, that image would be shattered and he would just be venti, which would make being around xiao much more comfortable for him
and i think all of this combined makes the perfect recipe for centuries of extremely intense longing, yearning, pining, etc.
you might ask: "okay, sure, but why xiao? i mean zhongli is right there and he fits a bunch of that criteria!" and i would say: "well, hypothetical anon, as it is, venti and zhongli just can't fucking stand being in each other's presence for more than an hour at most. they are both too much like their elements: free and reckless and flighty as the wind and rigid and stubborn and grand as stone. there's a reason anemo and geo don't react with each other: they just butt up against each other because one is an unstoppable force and the other is an immovable object and they don't get anywhere with each other. i doubt any form of valuable communication can happen between the two of them, and i doubt they could actually like being around each other and genuinely enjoy the other's company beyond just generally annoying each other."
and after all this, i just have to say: i actually wrote a fic all about it, believe it or not. i have an almost 200k word fic about how i think they feel about each other in canonverse, which includes venti's pov and goes over literally everything i said, just much more poetic and filled with a lot more yearning. idk if u've read it yet anon but highly recommend 👍
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