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#I PROOFREAD THIS TIME
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Videogames I wish were real #97
A roguelike game that takes place in the world's biggest library, which has been overrun by monsters, where you play as a librarian determined to save it. You venture inside the library armed with your weapon of choice and two messenger bags you plan to fill with whatever books you can rescue.
After you clear the monsters in a particular section of the library, such as the Poetry section, you'll unlock a permanent buff that will last for the remaining of that run. For example: clearing the Travel section will help you map areas faster, and also unlock the bookworm railway system that will allow you to move more easily between certain parts of the library.
Besides section buffs, you'll also be able to learn all kinds of useful attacks and skills by finding specific books in the shelves, reading them and carrying them in your messenger bags. The more books you carry, the stronger your character will be, and the abilities each book will grant you will be on theme with the book, it's literary genre or one of its tropes: carrying with you a bestiary will allow you to quickly identify the weak points of monsters you've met before, a book with an enemies to lovers trope will allow you to turn a monster into a temporary ally that will fight alongside you, a botany book in your bag will let you gather medicinal herbs growing in the library, and carrying a potions book will allow you to prepare healing potions (more effective than just herbs), etc.
Not everyone believes the library can be saved, which is why during your expeditions your mission is not only to kill monsters, but also to rescue books and bring them to the new library. Since getting books out is one of your main priorities, starting your runs with your satchels nearly full of books that grant you useful abilities won't be very efficient, so you'll need to decide how many books you want to bring back with you to the library during each run.
Fighting monsters is dangerous, and sometimes you get hurt, but also, sometimes books get hurt, which why after some runs you might need to stop by your workshop to repair any damaged books. The hides of certain monsters are very sturdy, so using them to rebind books will make them more durable.
There is no respawning in this game. If your librarian dies inside the library, the next librarian that ventures inside might eventually find their body. If you're close to death and you have a particular book from the Travel section in your bags, you'll be able to use it to summon a bookwork that will take you quickly and safely back to the entrance with whatever books are currently in your bag.
You love your library, and you are determined to save it, armed with the greatest weapon in the world: knowledge (and a sword), even if it's one book at a time.
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steviesummer · 10 months
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inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:
Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.
“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.
He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.
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brookheimer · 11 months
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not sure why people don't seem to understand that shiv being the victim of misogyny and vitriol from all the men in her life can and does coexist with the fact that she is not a feminist liberal hero fighting to save democracy. why is it that we never afford her any nuance? she's either the only good person on the show and deserves to kill every man in a ten foot radius (twitter) or a uniquely evil cruel sociopath with no heart fueled entirely by spite (reddit). is it not just so much more interesting for her to be a fascism aiding and abetting character like the rest of them who also views herself as more progressive in spite of everything else about her and who undergoes horrific treatment at the hands of the men around her yet has no interest in undoing the system that allows them to do so, only in ruling it herself? shiv is not any better than the others nor is she any worse than them. there's no Evil Olympics here guys, nor should there be. snook said it herself in the after credits sequence -- shiv was just lucky that her interests aligned with her sympathies. who knows what she would've done had mencken been her best personal option? yes she cares infinitely more about politics than roman, yes she is still very much interested in maintaining the capitalist, fascist structure and even strengthening it, so long as it ends with her on top (which either way would be a win for liberal causes bc Woman). fascism isn't one-size-fits-all. it's not just mencken and trump. it's also mattson. it's also logan. it's also roman and shiv and kendall. that's... kind of one of the main points of succession? but even so, that does not negate the fact that as a woman it is so hard to watch some of the scenes with her and tom/roman/kendall -- of course that misogyny will resonate with female viewers, as it should!!! but that resonance needs to coexist with a deeper understanding of her character -- if you want to root for a bad bitch fighting against misogyny go watch, i don't know, captain marvel or whatever. what makes shiv interesting is that she's so so so much more than that -- she is the product, victim, and perpetrator of misogyny and fascism, two concepts so heavily intertwined they're virtually inextricable from each other. tl;dr it's one thing to be like my god someone give shiv a gun and it's another entirely to say, entirely seriously, that shiv is the Good Liberal Feminist One and the rest are all evil. like i absolutely adore shiv but i would honest to god find her so fucking boring if she were actually the person these tweets make her out to be i'm sorry
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twstgarden · 1 month
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✰ ❝ 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 ❞
━ yan! octavinelle trio / yan! scarabia duo / yan! pomefiore trio x gn! reader (f/n means first name) (reader can be yuu or an oc) ━ certain friends on campus have started to be a little overbearing. to the point where they won't let you leave their dormitory so easily.
cw: (including but not limited to) yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/obsessions, use of drugs, mentions of drugging/spiking, captivity, kidnapping, mentions of curse/poisoning, love bombing/acts of manipulation
requested by: @mx.lustreless request type: scenarios requester’s message: Not mucy to say, just a bunch of yandere scenarios, I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but i guess you still are? You can get creative :> florist’s note: thank you for the request and for filling out the form!
this work may contain spoilers from chapters 3, 4, and 5, octavinelle, scarabia, and pomefiore's arcs respectively.
do not steal or translate without my permission.
ko-fi here if you want to support me
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━ 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚 ━
"ah, if it isn't prefect!"
you took a deep breath, exhaling it softly as you gave azul a forced smile the moment he laid eyes on you again. you did not want to return to mostro lounge again due to the uncomfortable vibes you have been getting, but you had no choice as your friend dragged you to have an afternoon snack in this private café.
"hello..." you mumbled in reply, avoiding his gaze with a clear indication that you wanted to leave as soon as possible. however, your friend was already ordering a drink as jade jotted down the orders on a notepad.
his sharp eyes then looked at you with that grin on his face, "and you? dear f/n?" your friend then looked at you with a smile, making you look back at the menu as you replied, "um... i won't order for now."
"are you not hungry?" your friend asked, tilting their head before sighing, "we've been in class all day and i did not see you eat! you should have something..."
then, your friend decided to place an order for you, and jade merely smiled as he wrote down the drinks and/or meals for you both. you breathed a sigh of relief the moment he, his twin, and his boss left your table.
"you seem tense," noted your friend.
"i'm just tired..." you lied, smiling a little at them.
initially, you enjoyed the atmosphere of the mostro lounge and it has always been your go-to spot after class and during the weekends. you have grown used to the trio's presence and considered them as close friends.
however, the longer you kept visiting them, the more you've noticed how odd they've been acting.
they won't let you leave easily, even if it is past the closing time.
azul has been trying to get you to sign a contract, claiming it was harmless and he would never cheat a "friend".
jade has been trying to feed you mushrooms that he found during his hike, claiming that they were safe to eat and he even added special ingredients. only the seven knows what drug or potions he has been pouring into his meals made for you.
floyd was also trying to feed you meals made by him, as well as trying to drag you around wherever he went, disguising it as a form of hang out despite his "threats" on your attempts to leave.
maybe they just want to spend time with me, is what you thought, but day by day, you have been slowly proven wrong with how close they are at times.
you snapped out of your thoughts the moment floyd served your dishes and drinks. your friend was ecstatic as they quickly dug into their meal, while you looked up to see floyd smiling down at you in an innocent way, but there was a hint of something ominous behind that smile.
"here's your food, shrimpy!"
you gulped and mumbled, "thanks..." looking down at your meal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. it looks exactly as it does on the menu, and the drinks did not have anything suspicious on them — or at least, that's what you think.
your friend was happily enjoying their food. seeing how relaxed they were gave you relief - at least the food or drink wasn't drugged. a soft sigh left your lips as you started to have your meal, enjoying the taste despite the unreadable expression on your face.
you can feel their stares. their eyes watch you with a daunting gaze, and even if they were not in your peripheral vision, you knew they were settled by the bar, watching you like a hawk.
you could have called them out or reported their suspicious behaviour, no? but why? they were your friends. they would never do anything to harm you. you weren't sure if it was some form of coping mechanism or if you still held some trust for them deep down, but all you knew was the guilt that continuously seeped into your mind at the thought of reporting their behaviour to the faculty staff.
you were afraid, but you still trust them. azul always had a way of messing with your psychological thoughts, and the twins were there to back him up and manipulate you into thinking they were only being friendly.
"oh! i left my phone at the campus, i'll be right back!" your friend spoke as they realised their cellular device was not on their person. they quickly stood up and left the lounge, leaving you alone as you tried to reach out to them, "wait-!"
but they were long too gone.
damn it.
you stayed silent for a moment, thoughts swirling in your mind as you looked back at the meal that you have been consuming for the past few minutes now.
your gaze then went to the bar to see them smiling at you. drat. you made eye contact with them and that was more than enough of an invitation to approach you.
"it seems your friend left rather abruptly," noted azul as he sat beside you with that suspicious smile of his. you merely hummed in response as floyd sat on your other side and spoke in a rather enthusiastic voice, "shrimpy! did you like the food?"
"it tastes great..." you replied, avoiding eye contact as you continued to stare at your half-eaten meal. floyd was pleased to hear you say this, making him pat your back before pulling you in for an asphyxiating hug.
you tried to pull away, patting his arm as a signal to let go and that you wanted to breathe. however, he was not letting you off, which made jade sigh as he spoke to his brother, "floyd, you are suffocating the prefect."
"oh no~ oops~!" replied floyd as he released you, but you knew he was not genuine in that little 'oops' of his. as soon as he released you, you started to feel lightheaded. your vision was blurring and doubling, and your head was throbbing in pain as you leaned on the table, unable to keep your eyes open.
the trio merely smiled as azul held you close to him and whispered, "you appear to be tired... it's alright, rest here... this is your home now..."
unable to fight back or stay awake, your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness started slipping as you fell into a deep state of sleep. the last words you heard gave you a sense of fear, but you were now too powerless to do anything.
"we won't hurt you. we're your friends..."
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━ 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙖 ━
"but...!"
"i need to head back to my dorm, kalim..." you spoke once again, wanting to return back to your room to sleep after the energy-consuming party you just had in scarabia mere moments ago.
"we have guest rooms here!" reasoned kalim, not wanting to let you leave.
"as much as i wanted to stay, i can't... sorry..."
there was no way you'd stay in that guest room after the incident. a frown found its way to kalim's lips as jamil sighed, "kalim... we can't force them to stay." with a defeated expression, kalim unwrapped his arms around you as he spoke to you, "will you come back tomorrow?"
relief. that was what you felt the moment you thought you would be back in your room. as much as you loved hanging out with them, you wanted a shut-eye too. "yeah, of course! i'll see you tomorrow," you replied before waving goodbye to the two and leaving their dorm.
the moment you arrived at your dormitory, the first thing you greeted were your pillows. you had quickly fallen asleep and thought of nothing but getting the rest you needed. it was the weekend tomorrow, so you were free to sleep in as much as you wanted.
the next day came by quickly and you were invited for lunch at scarabia. you loved the meals they served and their hospitality has made you feel more at home than you ever felt in this academy.
everything was going splendidly. the meals were fantastic, the drinks were refreshing, and the atmosphere was lively - the perfect scenario for a weekend lunch with friends, no?
you spent hours after lunch with them; studying, reading, sharing stories about school experiences and personal lives, and whatnot. however, you started to feel drowsy around the afternoon, wanting to take a nap to preserve your energy and rest.
you have become drowsy several times lately.
of course, you thought nothing of it. you were just exhausted from all the responsibilities you had to tackle, nothing out of the ordinary. kalim seemed to have noticed your drowsy state and quickly gave you one of the sofa pillows nearby. without another word, you grabbed the pillow and laid your head on it, passing out almost immediately.
minutes turned into hours and you had woken up from your nap - although, sleep was a better term as you had been out for hours now. rubbing the drowsiness from your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and sat up, feeling the soft mattress underneath as you looked at the spot you were lying on in confusion.
'a bed? where am i...?'
you thought you were back at your dorm, but the interior was completely different from your room. that's when it hit you, you were in one of scarabia's dormitory rooms. you quickly got out of bed and ran to the door, trying to open it only to find it unlocked.
"shit..." you muttered under your breath as you looked around the room for its key, but it was nowhere to be found. you quickly banged on the door, hoping someone was outside to hear you, "is anyone there?!"
it was silent for a while until you heard a jingle of keys from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief as you thought you were about to witness freedom, "oh thank goodness... please open the door!"
the sounds of the keys were giving you a sense of relief, and you thought they were about to unlock the door. however, only silence followed and no other sound was heard. what was going on?
"hello? is anyone there?" you called out once more, banging on the door, "please unlock the door! i don't see the key in here!"
then, a chuckle was heard on the other side of the door, giving you a sense of fear at the thought of someone purposefully locking you in here.
"you should take a rest, prefect."
that was jamil's voice. you knocked on the door again as you pleaded for your freedom, "jamil? please unlock the door!"
"you ought to keep it down. people are sleeping. we wouldn't want to wake them up now, would we?" spoke jamil as he let out a sigh, "you'll be staying in there. this is your new home now... good night."
his footsteps then started to fade as you continued banging on the door, "jamil?! let me out!!! come back!!! kalim! please!" all the relentless knocking and banging on the door were for naught as no one came to your aid.
days have passed and you barely remember much of what had happened, but you had vague memories of wanting to escape this wretched dormitory, then making the sudden decision to stay as if you were being hypnotized. they had fed you, entertained you, and took care of you during your whole stay.
they've been nothing but good to you! why would you want to leave?
why do you feel as if you are being manipulated to stay?
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━ 𝙥𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙚 ━
you were frozen in place for a few hours now with only epel in the room as he got himself busy with carving apples. if you hadn't been cursed by vil's unique magic, you would have run out of the door and never looked back at this dormitory.
but alas, you have fallen for his trick and bit into an apple slice that he had cursed without your knowledge. now, you were stuck seated on this couch settled in their lounge.
"epel...?"
you called out, making the first-year pause his carving as he looked at you. how could he still look at you with an innocent gaze after being involved in your captivity?
"mm?"
"how long 'till vil's spell wears off?" you asked, hoping it would be sooner rather than later.
"30 minutes," replied epel before tilting his head, "you are not looking to escape now, are 'ya?" you quickly shook your head in response, giving him a fake enthusiastic smile, "no! no! not at all!"
"lying won't help you, chéri(e)."
you quickly turned quiet at the sound of rook's voice. his footsteps paired with another one gave you a hint that vil was in the room as well, walking towards you before the dormitory head stood before you, leaning down as he held your cheek as if to inspect your face.
rook stood beside vil as he spoke patronisingly, "mon dieu! those tear stains on your face pain my heart. why the tears?" you glared at rook as he knew exactly why you were feeling this way, but he merely smiled at you.
"we fed you, cared for you, gifted you luxurious things, helped you in all your assignments, and so much more. why are you being ungrateful?" spoke vil as he narrowed his gaze at you with a frown. you did not say a word in response, not wanting to raise their irritation and anger towards you.
vil sighed at your lack of response, "stop acting like a spoiled child."
"then set me free."
you demanded freedom, hoping they would grant it to you despite the low chances. they have given you everything, so why can't they give you the freedom you desire?
"you know we can't do that," spoke vil as you felt his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb ever so slightly to give you a sense of comfort, "it's dangerous and there is nothing out there that will satisfy and love you."
"my friends—"
"your friends have long forgotten you, dear," replied vil as he cut you off, "in fact, they are glad that you are no longer interacting with them..."
you did not want to believe him, but the way he spoke to you in such a tone with that comforting caress made you stay quiet. epel and rook then sat beside you while vil gently started playing with your locks, a glint of satisfaction was evident in his eyes but you did not notice them as you were staring at the ground.
'hah! just say the right words and you'll fall into our trap once again... how naive...'
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© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
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taitavva · 9 months
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the consequences of taking any wayward child with red eyes under your wing ....
(sequel to this + full text under cut)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months
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Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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thesunisatangerine · 4 months
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: none (im pretty sure)
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 5.8k
The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 
When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 
“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.
“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”
Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.
“And you’re beautiful.”
No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.
Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.
But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.
And what a sight the two of you must have been. 
In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 
Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 
“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 
With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 
“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 
When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 
“That was mortifying.”
Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”
“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”
Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 
“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.
“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.
“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”
“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”
She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.
Another pause. 
“I think I should go.” 
Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.
“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”
At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”
“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  
“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”
The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.
“Call me later?”
You nodded.
Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 
The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 
Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.
“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”
Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”
“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 
“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 
You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.
“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 
“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”
“About what, ladybug?”
“Going back to the Academy.”
At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”
Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”
You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 
“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”
Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”
“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”
Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 
“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 
“Yes.” 
At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 
After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 
Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 
“Are you together?”
“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”
“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”
“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”
“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”
“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”
Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”
Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 
“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”
At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 
True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 
“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.
“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”
Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 
“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 
“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 
Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.
“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 
Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 
She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 
“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”
“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”
Alexia shook her head.
You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 
At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.
Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”
Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”
After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 
At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 
About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.
“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 
In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.
“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 
You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  
Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”
“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 
“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 
So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 
After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.
You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.
“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.
“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.
Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.
The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.
By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.
It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 
You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.
There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.
It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.
“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.
“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”
“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”
Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”
“I’m making us feel old.”
The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”
The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.
“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"
You nodded. She continued.
“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”
You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.
“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”
She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”
You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”
Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.
“Wait, are you being serious right now?”
You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”
Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”
“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.
“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”
Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.
“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.
“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”
With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.
The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.
“Time to go?”
“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”
You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.
“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.
Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”
On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.
After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.
With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”
“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”
“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”
Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.
At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 
You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’
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mosaickiwi · 1 month
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(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ
!!!
By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
~Wedding Day~
You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.
It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.
That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.
And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.
“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”
“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb. 
You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.
“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.
Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.
But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.
With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.
They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself. 
“Ready?”
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
Text
The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader
cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)
notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!
Bittersweet ending version here!!
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Once upon a time…
A long, long time ago…
The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.
It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.
And his partner loved him just as much.
A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.
It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.
As for his lover… well…
-----
Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.
The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.
Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.
It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…
A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.
Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.
You whimper.
The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.
“Why do you run away from me?”
“Leave me alone!” You scream.
“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”
At the words you only sob harder.
Mate.
Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.
You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.
Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.
The undeniable marks of erosion.
You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.
“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.
You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.
“Submit.” He growls.
You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.
He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.
Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.
“Z-Zhongli-!”
Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”
Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.
“I don’t belong to you!”
He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.
“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”
The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.
“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.
Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.
How had things ended up like this?
You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…
And hasn’t been for who knows how long…
Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.
He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.
It's so cruel.
“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.
Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”
Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.
You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.
You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”
You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.
Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”
He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.
Home.
Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.
Forever and always.
-----
…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.
Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.
Until they both turn to dust.
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satorusluver · 6 months
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Minors DNI
I had writer's block so I tried to write a little bitty drabble to push through it. I'm sorry if it's bad. Also I'm 100% convinced Satoru is the biggest tease alive yes I said alive no he's not dead no I'm not in denial.
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Gojo Satoru is the type of boyfriend to tease you and then pretend he didn't do anything at all. 
Satoru, who purposefully wears his tightest shirts around you that he knows show off his broad chest and bulky arms. He swears he's not flexing, he's really just that jacked.
Satoru, who'll let his hand on your back slowly travel a little too low when he's walking with you in public, and then the moment you feel him barely brush against your ass, he'll move his hand away entirely. 
Satoru, who'll come up behind you when you're cooking and hug you tightly from behind, letting his hard-on press right up against your lower back while he asks you if you think you'll be in the mood for dessert. Then he chuckles when you stutter and choke on your words and walks away like nothing happened. 
Satoru, who'll lean down and whisper something filthy in your ear in the middle of a crowded mall -how he can't stop thinking about how fucking loud you were while he fucked you this morning, what a good girl you were for him, how much you begged for him to go harder- just to watch your face go red only to turn back to the rack of clothes, whistling causally.
The man is a menace who loves to fluster you, but you know he'll make it up to you later when he's balls deep fucking you into the mattress, making you scream until you lose your voice and making your already soaking wet cunt cream all over his dick until you lose count. Because if there's one thing Satoru loves more than teasing you, it's making you fall apart under him.
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steddierthings · 1 year
Text
Part 3 of the Sad Steddie Scenario. Thank you to everyone who left comments, likes, and reblogs on the last two parts! They all made me so happy. 
Tag list - so many people asked to be tagged, which I was so grateful for, and I’ve tagged as many of you as I could (on this post and I’ll follow up with more that I couldn’t fit in a reblog, but that will be tomorrow because it is very late/early, and I am very sleepy), but it was really overwhelming, so I won’t be adding anyone else (if you’re already on it, I’ll keep tagging in future parts unless you ask me to stop). I’ll tag future installments with “steddier things: sad steddie scenario” if you’d like to follow that.
Someone asked if I would put this on ao3, and I likely will. I’d want to expand it, clean it up, make it more cohesive (I’m writing by the seat of my pants now). So, we’ll see!
Part One, Part Two
Previously on: Steve met the Corroded Coffin crew and it did not go well, resulting in a blowout fight with Eddie. Robin and Steve put their heads together to figure out why. No answers were to be found.
CW: alcohol mention, vomit mention, and uh, fair warning, it does not get happier yet. 
--------------------------------------------------
Date night, Eddie’s POV
After Steve speeds off in a hail of gravel, Eddie stalks to his van, ready to tear out of there. If his van wasn’t such a piece of shit, he’d go on a joyride around Hawkins, terrorize the locals and work out this adrenaline. As it is, he just wants to find an empty field where he can scream and scream and scream. 
But when he tries to open the door, he realizes he left his keys back at the table next to his drink. He’s always doing that - he’s got too many stupid trinkets and baubles and random fucking keys he finds on the ground that he just has to stick on his key chain. They weigh his pants down so he’s always fucking leaving them everywhere, goddammit. He slams his hand against the van door. If he was feeling just a modicum more self destructive, he’d jimmy open the lock and hotwire it, but he knows how stupid that is.
He heads back inside. The music assails him as he opens the door, and normally he’d be into the rage and passion of tonight’s bill, who, despite being a local rival, Eddie normally likes, but tonight their voices are screeching, their guitars discordant. 
The guys have their heads together around the table like a bunch of gossiping biddies. Eddie steels himself before walking over. They look up when he steps up to the table, not even pretending they weren’t talking about him and Steve. 
“Well,” Gareth says, bitchy and smug. “That went exactly as well as I expected it to.” 
“Fuck off, man.” Eddie snags his keys, shoves them in his pocket. He wants to leave, but someone’s gotten him a new beer and alcohol sounds pretty good right about now. He takes a sip, sets the glass back down harder than he needs to. “It might have gone okay. I don’t know what the fuck was up with him tonight.” 
Gareth rolls his eyes. “What did you think was gonna happen, Eddie? Did you think he was going to come here and pal around with us and we were all going to be best friends?” 
“No, but—” 
“Good, because that was never going to happen.” Grant and Jeff nod in agreement. It pisses Eddie off. Maybe Steve hadn’t been at his best, but the guys barely gave him a chance to be anything else. All they did was talk about DnD, and maybe Steve was a little more…disengaged…with Eddie’s friends than Eddie’d hoped he’d be, but seriously what was he supposed to contribute to that conversation?  
Eddie had been planning this meet up for weeks. Sure, Steve saw the guys when he picked the kids up from Hellfire, which they held in Gareth’s basement now that school was out, but their interactions were comprised of a few tight-lipped smiles and nods hello and goodbye if the guys came out of the house at the same time as the kids. But Eddie wanted them all to get to know each other, be friendly if not friends. Steve had been all for it, but the guys had been giving him shit about it nonstop. Eddie’s furious that it turns out they were right, but he’s not going to let them gang up on his absent boyfriend without a fight.
“Why not? Because you think he wouldn’t be friends with freaks like us? His two best friends are literally a band geek and a 15-year-old who wears Weird Al t-shirts. He doesn’t think he’s too cool for us.” 
Jeff scoffed. “Man, he couldn’t even get my name right.” 
“I tried to talk to him about his DnD character,” Grant chimes in. “But he couldn’t tell me anything about it, not even what class it was.” 
That happened just before King Steve had decided he was done being nice to the plebes. After five minutes of the guys asking him questions and him responding with “What?” or, “Sorry, Eddie knows more about that,” or just straight up silence, Eddie was already on edge, embarrassed. So when Grant had asked what class his character was, and Steve had just shrugged and said, “Uh, Rogue…I think?” He’d looked at Eddie for confirmation. Eddied had almost lost it. 
Steve’s character was a Ranger, and Eddie’d spent the better part of an hour helping him decide on the class and the backstory so he could join a new one-shot campaign Eddie was putting together. But his friends don’t need to know that. 
“Why would he even remember that?” 
“Because you said you spent an hour with him one night coming up with it.” The smug look is back on Gareth’s face. Oops. Eddie forgot he’d told him.  
“He wore a Polo shirt,” Jeff says, despairing. “A Polo shirt, Eddie. To The Hideout!” 
Eddie lets out a growl of frustration. “Literally who cares! They’re just clothes!” He is not a violent man, but right now, Eddie wants to hit something. 
Gareth holds out a placating hand. “It’s not that we care what clothes he’s wearing, Ed. We care that you two don’t have anything in common. We care that he showed up half an hour late to hang out with your friends for the first time. We care that you try to bring him into your interests, and he doesn’t respect them.
“Yeah, you went through this shared trauma, but how long is that going to keep you together? The dude couldn’t even bother to learn the name of one of your best friends.” 
“Besides that,” Grant says. “He’s a bully.” 
“He’s not a bully, no. No.” The guys all object loudly to that. 
“Okay, okay!” Eddie says. “Maybe he wasn’t great in high school, but he didn’t bully you. Name on thing that he’s done to any of you. Personally.” Eddie’s eyes roam over them. “You can’t, can you?” 
“That’s not the point, and you know it,” Gareth says. 
“What’s the point then?” 
“If he’s bullied any of us, any freaks like us, then he’s bulled all of us. That’s something you said.” Gareth’s right in his face now, pokes him in the chest, keeps his finger pressed there. Eddie lets him, because he did say that, and more than that, he believed it. But whatever Steve had been in high school, Eddie knows, in his gut, that he isn’t that now. Except. Except what was tonight then? 
Eddie shakes his head, denying the truth of what they’re saying. He can’t be here anymore. He gulps down the last of his beer, pats his pocket to make sure he’d grabbed his keys, and says, “Fuck it, I’m out.” The guys don’t try to stop him. 
—————
Their disaster of a date was on Friday night. Eddie doesn’t call Steve on Saturday. He doesn’t call Steve on Sunday. He doesn’t call Steve on Monday. (Steve doesn’t call him either.) 
By Tuesday, Wayne’s fed up with his stewing. He nags Eddie into taking a shower and eating dinner wit him. Eddie lets him, because he could use his uncle’s perspective on things, even if Eddie knows he’s not too keen on Steve at all. 
Wayne listens quietly as Eddie relays his perspective on the evening, including everything the guys said after Steve left as he and Wayne chow down on microwave mac & cheese with hot dogs cut up in it. At the end of Eddie’s recitation, Uncle Wayne’s brow is furrowed. Eddie cringes. 
“I know it sounds bad, but he’s not normally like that. He’s not a bad guy, Uncle Wayne.”
“Hmm.” Wayne contemplates his empty bowl. “Did he know how important this night was to you?” 
Eddie shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, he knew how excited I was about it, so I think so.” 
“Did he make an effort to talk to your friends?” 
“He bought them a round?” That had to count for something, right? But Wayne snorts derisively. 
“Sounds like a Harrington.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Always throwing their money around,” Wayne waves a hand as if to demonstrate. “His daddy was the same way. You don’t need to make an effort if you’ve got enough money.” 
“Come on, Uncle Wayne, he was doing something nice.” 
“Hmm.” Before Eddie can get up from the table and start pacing at Uncle Wayne’s less than illuminating response, Wayne puts a hand on his shoulder, holding him there, serious. “Ed, listen. If he is as good as you say he is, I’ll try to believe you. But I look at him, and all I can think is,” he has to stop, not choked up, not quite. But whatever he is, it makes Eddie reach up, place his hand over the one on his shoulder. Squeeze. 
“All can think is, if he hadn’t been involved in whatever happened, would he have hunted my kid down too? Would he have been whipping the mob into a frenzy right next to that Carver boy?” Eddie’s shaking his head no, but Wayne barrels on. “Because I know his parents, and I know his type, and you telling me all this doesn’t make me think any better of him.” 
“He’s a good guy, Uncle Wayne. I promise.” 
“If he’s a good guy, why isn’t he here apologizing?” It’s the same question Eddie’s had since Friday night. Steve had fucked up, why wasn’t he groveling at Eddie’s feet? Did he not…did he not care? But that’s not a thought Eddie’s been able to face for very long. 
“I don’t know, maybe I should be apologizing to him.” 
Wayne eyes him sharply. “Did you do something worth apologizing for?” 
“He got mad about something at the end of the night. I don’t know what it was. But he was really mad.” Wayne loses the sharpness at that, rolls his eyes. 
“And he couldn’t be bothered to tell you why?” No, no he couldn’t. Wayne shakes his head. “Sounds like you’ve got some decisions to make, son.”
————
Eddie’s got two days before the next Hellfire meeting. Two days before he won’t be able to avoid seeing Steve. He thinks about telling Dustin to let Steve know Eddie will drive them all home, but he’s still trying not to be a runner. 
So for two days he thinks on it and thinks on it and thinks on it. His mind keeps coming back to one thing. One stupid, small thing. Steve hadn’t remembered his character was a Ranger. That time with Steve, coming up with his character, teaching him about the characteristics of all the different classes, figuring out the backstory, rolling for his stats. It had meant so much to Eddie. It was silly, small, maybe. But he’d been so pleased, so happy to be sharing this with his boyfriend. And Steve hadn’t remembered it. 
Fuck. Fuck. Maybe everyone is right. If the Upside Down is what brought them together, what holds them together, that’s not enough to last. And Eddie’s only 20, he doesn’t need something that will last forever. Except he almost died and life is so short. 
So when Tuesday rolls around, and Steve’s parked his car at the curb in front of Gareth’s house, Eddie follows the kids out. Steve gets out of the car and approaches Eddie as the kids head past them, not paying attention to the weighted moment unfolding. Eddie sees Steve open his mouth, but Eddie has to say this quick or he won’t say it at all. 
“Listen, man. I don’t think…I don’t think this is such a good idea anymore.”
Steve’s mouth snaps shut, his brow scrunches up. “What, me picking the kids up from Hellfire?” A commotion behind them makes him turn around. 
“Hey, hey, break it up - Mike, Lucas, you’re in the back. Dustin, up front but no gloating, I mean it! God fucking dammit,” he says, turning back to Eddie. Raises his eyebrows in question. “What were you saying?” 
Can’t even be bothered to pay attention to me breaking up with him, Eddie thinks meanly. Guess I don’t have to worry if I’m doing the right thing.  He doesn’t notice the way nervous way Steve shifts on his feet, or the way his hands tap-tap-tap against his thighs to hide the fine tremor running through them. 
“Fucking—it’s been fun, Harrington, but I think we both knew this wasn’t going to work out, and Friday night just cemented it. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.” 
“Are you serious?” 
Eddie can’t make himself say yes, can barely make himself look at Steve. He nods once, short. A muted crash comes from inside the Beemer and Steve turns to look at the kids who are engaged in a slap fight across the seats. When he turns back to Eddie he looks…lost. 
“I’ve got to drive the kids home,” he says, and he sounds bewildered at the fact. “Fuck, I’ve got to—” he breaks off, sucks in air. 
“Steve?” His eyes snap to Eddie’s and Eddie flinches. He’s never seen Steve look like that. Bleak, hopeless. Eddie wants to vomit. He did that. He put that there. 
He wants to take it back. Haha, it’s a joke, see? Aren’t I such a goofball? Silly Eddie Munson, always joking around. But his tongue is thick in his mouth and the words won’t come. Instead, he reaches out, needing to touch his boyfriend, help him. But as soon as Eddie’s fingertips brush Steve’s arm, Steve comes back to himself. His eyes sharpen and he steps quickly away. “I’ve got to drive the kids home,” he says again, firm. 
He doesn’t waste any time heading back to his car, rounding the front and slipping inside. He yells something at the kids, starts the engine, and they’re gone. 
Eddie presses his hand to his mouth. “Fuck.” 
—————————
In the car, Steve grips the steering wheel, knuckles white. Lucas, Will, and Mike are in the back talking game strategy, but Dustin sits quietly next to him. 
“Steve?” he says, voice small, smaller than Steve’s ever heard it. “You’re crying.” 
Steve puts a hand to his cheek and oh god, he’s crying. He didn’t know. He didn’t—He scrubs viciously at his face. 
“I’m fine, bud,” he says, the least convincing lie he’s ever told. “It’s just allergies.” 
Dustin looks like he wants to argue, but Steve jerks his head ‘no,’ a plea,  unwilling (unable) to tell Dustin, who loves Eddie, who might love him a little less if Steve gives him details. Steve couldn’t bear it. 
For once in his life, Dustin listens. He turns to the kids in back and joins in their argument. Steve turns the radio up and drives. 
*******************************************
Part Four
Tag list (if you asked to be tagged and you don’t see your name here or in the reblog with more tags (which I will likely add tomorrow, it is very late and I am very sleepy), it’s very likely because the tag didn’t work when I tried it. Idk if that’s a setting folks have turned off on their blogs or what) 
@thosemessyvibes @afewproblems @soulminyg @paperbackribs @ramyayaya @doilooklikebees  @occasionalartthings  @minjintea @kodaik97 @miss-hit  @lexyvey @theysherobinbuckley @hotluncheddie @sifutoph @secretlyatimelady @airiervessel @escapingthereality @oh-no-its-danger-gays @readbythestarlight @brassreign @skyparkour @afewproblems @ro-doodles @henderdads @girl-glitch @hagbaby420 @xjessicafaithx @sadcanadianwinter @manda-panda-monium @hellfire1986baby @blackpearlcjacks @ineffablecolors @moirainesedai09 @thespicey @silentiumdelirium @tinynebula @alienace @everchanginginks @resident-gay-bitch @upductablemsft @edgelordesworld @ghosttotheparty @beeing-stuupid @soulminyg @whalingghosts @messrs-weasley @4nemo1egend @staninggaycouples @thesuninyaface @alxads-blog @fuckign-uh-hi @beatingdermatillomania @depressed-andobsessed @ash-a-confused-enby @uwujinniee @howthehelldidiendupherewhat @eddiehotson @alienacez @pantasticpolygoat @artiststarme @idkwwhatimmdoiing @rainydays35 @thatonebadideapanda @halfeatenfig @sad-boy-mono @cherixxx69 @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @eyeslikewildflowers111 @sleepy-time @live-the-fangirl-life @evix-syne666 @grimmfitzz 
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mystoriaaa · 20 days
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FakeCreator!Reader
SAGAU but reader becomes the tyrant imposter who pretends to be the creator. Also has a game system in place because I'm a sucker for those lol
“How about we play a game?” 
“A game?”
“Yes. It'll be a fun, simple game. Just how you like it. It'll even involve that Genshin Impact game you're currently playing.” The person smiles, “I just need you to…”
You open your eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. And suddenly every sense of yours sharpens.
You feel the mattress you're laying down on, it's too soft. You jolt upright at the thought you possibly got kidnapped, looking around the new environment.
It's…fancy. You look down at what you are wearing and… it certainly fits the place you’re in. It feels smooth, something a rich aristocrat person would wear in the past. But that's the thing, you are broke as hell and you certainly aren't that old.
So what is this? Is this some kind of new sick joke kidnappers do nowadays?
A ping from a hologram accompanied by a robotic voice reading it out appears right in front of your dumbfounded face, cutting you off your thoughts. 
[Welcome to the World of Teyvat, player!]
What?
[You are currently inhabiting the body of the so-called “Creator” of Teyvat but the body is actually a fake!] The hologram fakes a gasping sound.
What. 
[Now, you have no choice but to pretend to be the real Creator or else…] It pauses for dramatic effect to reveal horrifying news that you'll definitely not like.
[You’ll be executed! Oh no!]
“WHAT?!” You yell in shock, at the absolute absurdity of it all. Not knowing that it would alarm the people guarding outside the door.
“Your grace?! Are you okay?!” The door slams open, and that's when you know, you are fucked.
Your grace. You internally curse that title, the one commonly used for the Creator. Towards the imposter that was actually the real one or to the fake pretending to be one. Which you are supposedly the latter.
Two people entered the room, and you felt the sudden movement of the wind despite the closed room. But that's just your imagination, right? Is what you would like to believe but…
A familiar yet foreign appearance appeared. That– That shouldn't even be real. You dig your nails into your palm, hoping the pain will wake you up.
Yet you feel fully awake as Venti, a game character, goes to you. Looking all over your body for non-existent injuries while your mind breaks down, crumbling at the horrid realization. 
His brows furrowed, gently prying your hand open, “Your grace? Is something wrong?” He asked in a worried tone.
You look at him, you don't know what expression you have but Venti flinches and ask again, “What’s wrong, your grace?” 
You take away your hand that Venti was caressing, hugging yourself as you close your eyes to process what was happening. 
You’ve— you’ve just somehow isekai’d like in those shows you watch. And not just any normal isekai, but in the body of the fake Creator of those SAGAU fanfictions you read.
“Your grace, may I ask what happened?” A deep, smooth voice filled with concern but all it does is make your face pale.
Oh. You are absolutely doomed.
Warning bells ring in your head, the two’s voices blurring yet the words of the hologram echoes clearly. 
If they discover you're the imposter, you will die.
The world becomes distant as your chest tightens, everything feels real and not at the same time. You don't remember when you fainted, but all you wanted was for this to be a dream and wake up in your world again.
The last thing you see is the blue screen, with words that feel like it's mocking you.
[We hope you enjoy your experience and live to see another day!]
[Congratulations! You received a Memory Fragment from earning the achievement: <Trapped in another world?! The life of a Creator Imposter starts now!> Obtained from a successful transmigration.]
[Accessing Memory Fragment… Success!] 
[Memory Fragment playing now.]
“How dare you?! You dare to question me?!” Someone yells in anger. A voice so strangely familiar to you.
You try to remember whose voice it is, it almost comes to you but leaves when you come close to remembering. You know it's someone you know very well yet you can't put your finger on it. 
“P-Please, your grace… I did not mean to—” A different person’s voice, someone unfamiliar this time, begs desperately but was cut off by another angry yell.
“You dare to talk back to me?! Morax! Barbatos! What are you doing, you slow and incompetent acolytes! Bring death to this man right this instant!”
You flinch at the names spoken out, so so familiar but you just can't seem to remember. Your head hurts as you try to force yourself to recall what you forgot.
A clear, low voice void of emotions speaks, “We apologize for being late, your grace. We will do as you command.” 
A slap echoes loudly. 
Weird enough, you faintly felt the contact. As if you were the one that hit someone. But that can't be? You can't even see, let alone move…
“Useless. Useless, I say!” 
All of a sudden, your vision comes back to you slowly. Your senses are getting clearer and clearer.
Then, you feel your mouth speaking, your body moving even as you try to fight against it. You start to panic when you can't control your own body.
“It is an honor for you to be personally serving me. Yet you dare to treat me like this?” 
You try to scream, try to take back control of your body but all you do is point at someone kneeling before you.
“You seem to forget, you wretched Archon. But I am your—”
Suddenly, it comes back to you. Your mind momentarily freezes at you remembering everything. You somehow got put into the game you were playing and became someone you did not want to.
That's right, you are now the… 
“—Creator! The Creator of Teyvat! The ruler of this world! And you will respect me, worship me as I deserve.”
[Memory Fragment finished! Collect Memory Fragment to access more of the Imposter’s memories! It will surely help your survival. You can do it, player!]
You open your eyes. And once again, you see that unfamiliar ceiling. You close it one more time, just in case.
To your absolute dismay, it does not work.
You pinch yourself once, twice yet nothing happens, you stay in this dream-like place.
You sit upright with a headache from the imposter’s memories you received. Massaging your forehead as you try to calm down.
“Your grace?” Ugh, that cursed title. The proof of your annoying situation. “Does your head hurt? Would you like me to get you medicine?”
You look at the source of that voice and lo and behold, it's Zhongli from the hit game Genshin Impact. Sitting at the seat beside the bed.
If it was in any other situation, you would cry from joy meeting one of your characters. But now, you want to cry for a different reason.
“No. I am alright.” You say rather stiffly, you weren't sure how you should be speaking. Should you be screaming insults everywhere like the imposter you saw in the memory or something?
“I understand. I brought you lunch, would you like to eat?” Oh, the beautiful voice you love to hear whenever he was on screen. Yet it chills your spine, scared at what he might do when he finds the truth.
This would have been much, much better if this was all a dream. But noo, you stare at the hologram over Zhongli's face, this is unfortunately the reality. 
You sigh, “Give it to me.” Zhongli obliges. 
Well, at least the food is good. Even better than what you have in the previous world, you won't lie. Makes your remaining time alive better at least.
…You mentally slap yourself to stop these thoughts or else you might throw up.
After you finish eating, Zhongli takes the tray and says, “Dr. Baizhu said you fainted from feeling overwhelmed. Is there something troubling you?” 
You would feel bad at his worried tone if not for the fact you want to run away at the moment.
“It was nothing, you do not need to worry about it. I will be fine after resting.” You say with a fake calmness you did not feel, and hope it sounds like the real owner of this body despite the lack of yelling.
But then his eyes glint, piercing at you, looking like he just found the answer to his questions. And all you can think is that you already failed.
Standing from his seat, “I will be leaving then. Rest well, your grace.” Bringing the tray with him, the sound of the door closing made you slumped to the bed. 
That was so stressful…! Silently groaning to yourself, and looking at the annoying blue hologram box in front of you.
“You! Bring me back home right this instant!” You tried not to yell loudly, fearing that someone might hear you and come in. 
[Sorry to disappoint, player! But I cannot do that!]
“And why not?!” 
[Your original body has died, no medium can be used for you to access the previous world. Would you still like to proceed?]
A yes or no appears, and you ask in distraught. “I’m– I’m dead..?” 
[Yes. Returning would permanently make you disappear. Would you like to proceed?] The monotone voice irritates you to no end, it felt like it was mocking you.
“I— Why?” Your voice comes out quivering. You don't know what you are trying to ask, you just wanted answers.
[Please calm down, player! At the end of the day, this is all just a game.]
A game. 
A game. 
JUST A FUCKING GAME?!
You throw the nearest thing near you, the pillows passing through the holographic screen. “You brought me to this world and you say it is just a game?!”
Being quiet be damned. Fearing someone entering be double damned. You have to somehow make this screen pay for what they said.
You didn't want to be in this situation! This place where powerful people from fiction can hurt you in the most painful way possible before killing you. Even if you died and couldn't go back, you still wanted to return home because it's better than being here.
But this annoying blue box telling you it is just a game felt like it was trampling over all the fear and desperation you had. 
When you run out of pillows, you go for the glass of water at your bedside table and throw it. It shatters and the water gets everywhere on the floor. With nothing else to throw, you attempt to throw the big fluffy blankets too—
Venti enters the room and sees you trying to lift a clumsily folded blanket but it keeps falling off. You complain the third time it falls off again, “This stupid blanket!” 
Venti gets near you, holding you as you shake him off. “Your grace, what is the matter?” You keep thrashing around until you accidentally hit him. 
All of a sudden, your anxiety spikes and anger gone. You almost forgot that this is someone who could kill you, and you just hit him. You immediately try to apologize, “S-Sorry—” 
But you stop at Venti’s look of confusion and disbelief. What? Why is he... You rack your brain at the expression until you realize. 
The one you're right now is the imposter who's pretending to be the creator. The one who acted like a tyrant in that memory you received. You panic, you're already acting so out of character already.
You try to think of a way to fix it so they won't get suspicious until Venti brings your hand to his cheeks, smiling almost crazily, “It’s okay, your grace. This body is your creation, you have the right to do anything to me as you wish.” He lets go of your hand, but he waits. As if encouraging you to hit him.
Chills went down your spine, you remember how insane the behavior the playable characters have towards the Creator. It was all for fun when you read them, because it was fiction. But actually experiencing it yourself now scares you. 
Especially when you're just an imposter.
Swallowing the lump from your throat, you summon all the little courage you have left and say, “...Leave, Barbatos. I wish to be alone right now.” 
He looks at you, the same way Zhongli was looking earlier and you clench your clothes, trying to stop yourself from trembling.
“...Of course, your grace.” It feels like forever until he finally shuts the door, leaving you alone to yourself. But you are also left with a sense of foreboding.
You lay down on the messy bed, closing yourself off from the world. Comforting yourself that everything will be fine.
But a ping from that grating system comes, along with it emotionlessly reading a new notification that makes you fear for your life even more.
Venti closed the door behind him. He looked at the other archon standing guard at the door of the Creator’s room.
“Barbatos.”
“Morax.”
Silence echoed until the Geo Archon spoke.
“Did you notice it, bard?”
“Ehe~ Of course I did, why wouldn't a super devoted acolyte like me notice?”
The Anemo Archon replied lightheartedly, but his gaze intense as he stared at the taller god.
“Indeed. It would be quite shameful if us two, the last remaining of the original Seven, did not realize this.” 
The bard chuckled, “You’re right!” with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “Wanna say it at the same time then? 3…”
The Geo Archon sighed tiredly yet complied nonetheless. 
At the end of the count, the two’s expressions turned serious. 
And spoke of the truth that could change everything.
“The Creator has changed.”
[Warning! Warning! The playable characters are starting to suspect you!]
142 notes · View notes
tervaneula · 10 days
Note
u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'
OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury
Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3
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“Yui, I’m okay–” 
The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious. 
“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!” 
He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.” 
There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.
He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good. 
Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless. 
Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his. 
The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them. 
Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck. 
As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit. 
He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up. 
“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile. 
“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice. 
“Leo? Are you okay?” 
“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.” 
Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards. 
“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.” 
“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case. 
“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows. 
“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.” 
“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?” 
Yuichi stares. 
“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–” 
“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood. 
“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?” 
“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.” 
Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever. 
“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.” 
Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence. 
“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.” 
Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together. 
“It wasn’t your fault.” 
“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.” 
“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.” 
Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner. 
“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose. 
“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.” 
Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles. 
“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.” 
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sleepy-moons · 5 months
Text
gojo constantly tells you he'd die for you. at the start of your relationship, you would kind of roll your eyes at the comment. he's so dramatic, you'd think to yourself, though you'd appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. but as time went on, and as your relationship blossomed, you began to feel a pang in your heart every time he said it.
an ache so deep in your spirit, that you could cry whenever he'd go on a mission. because you knew, that while he was fighting for a better society, for the eradication of curses and corruption, there was a large part of him that was fighting solely for you. for your safety. and if that meant he had to die for that to happen, so be it.
i don't want you to die for me. words you never thought you'd have to say to the love of your life. you want to spend the rest of your life with this man. why must he insist on showing his love in death?
he'd always give you a little smile when you'd say that, because he knows tears will be following soon after.
i know. there wasn't much more to be said after that. just a mutual understanding that a devastating heartbreak is lingering somewhere down the line, inevitable. he just hopes that in his next life, he gets to spend more time with you.
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mangobug · 9 months
Text
Alenoah is so goddamn appealing to me for the same reason i like aleheather: they're both enemies/rivals with a tension. However, what makes alenoah so much more interesting to me is the fact that Noah just would not visibly care about, or outwardly acknowledge, Alejandro's advancements. When Alejandro flirts with the other contestants, he easily throws them off or (in Heather's case) pisses them off, turning them into putty in his two hands. When he attempts to throw Noah off, though, it doesn't (visibly) have an effect on him, and it bothers Alejandro because Alejandro always has the upper-hand, around both women and men. It makes Alejandro feel almost humiliated when Noah brushes him off or shoots back sarcastic comments in response to his flirting. Noah barely even bats an eye. But Alejandro can't bring himself to stop when he finds Noah as a person so interesting. Alejandro loves debating with Noah and adores his snark and intelligence, and this adoration drives him. He makes it a goal of his to somehow really fluster Noah or throw him off his game like he does with the other contestants, which has proven to be quite a difficult task. But Alejandro isn't a quitter.
In reality, Noah enjoys the playful and teasing banter just as much as Alejandro, even if he seems uninterested, because it's entertaining to be debating with someone of similar intelligence. Alejandro's flirting, though, does actually throw him off, just not in the same way it does to other people. Noah is entirely (and rightfully) convinced that Alejandro's flirting with him is just a part of his slimy, slippery, eel-y personality, and a sad attempt to rid of Noah in order to further himself in the competition. And Noah is nothing if not stubborn, so even if he feels his stomach twisting into a knot every time Alejandro compliments his brown eyes or his hooked nose or his impressive intelligence or his interesting personality or even the peaceful, curled position he sleeps in—Noah will always just nod his head and respond with a doubtful "sure" or a sarcastic "thanks, honey."
And if Alejandro were to hear about how Noah views his persistent advances, then he wouldn't deny it, because in the beginning that was about half of the truth. He did want to use this new challenge to knock a few opponents out, and if reaching his goal would not only prove to Alejandro that the cold-presenting bookworm had a heart that could be tamed but would also get him out of the way and push Alejandro one step closer to his imminent victory, then, well, that's a win-win for Alejandro. That isn't all the reason though because, against all of Alejandro's big ego, he does actually quite like Noah. This "like" didn't mean the same in the beginning as it did in the end. Because it didn't start with Alejandro wondering if Noah had had anything to eat that day or if Noah had any pets or what Noah's favorite book was, or even if Alejandro could borrow that book Noah was reading once he was done.
Against all of Alejandro's wishes and expectations, he finds that between the two of them, he is the one who has been getting flustered. And it is downright embarrassing, because Noah doesn't even do anything. Well, except for all of the things he usually does. He makes his sarcastic comments and argues with Alejandro just as he did before, but now the details are so much clearer. It's like every feature of Noah's has been enhanced, including his features that previously Alejandro would have considered flaws. His forehead was rather larger than average, but Alejandro has decided that it fit his face and personality and that it was only natural for a head to be big enough to store all the fascinating knowledge and wit that Noah had proven to have. And that pimple just below his right cheekbone, well, that is just time's beauty mark, a proof of growth and maturity that was one feature of many on his face that showed that he was very alive. He found an adorableness in the way Noah uncurled from his sleep and rubbed his eyes first thing after a long night of rest, and he felt a burning discomfort in the unmistakable image of Noah curling into Owen's nap for a makeshift pillow later that day. Alejandro felt electricity course throw his veins and his hands become shakey and clammy at every short lock between ivy and coffee irises. He felt his heart beat a thousand miles a minute each time he stood next to the other, and he would feel it speed up ten times fast at every sarcastic comment the other would make.
Alejandro found himself staring.
Alejandro finds himself studying his face, gauging his face for reactions whenever he makes a joke, and he finds himself way too excited when Noah cracks a smile at it. One time, Alejandro had made Noah laugh. Belly laugh. Gasping for breath laugh. A laugh so full of joy that Alejandro found himself smiling. Not from the contagiousness of Noah's laugh nor from the humor of the comment he had made about Duncan, which, truth be told, he couldn't recite on the spot even if he needed to because his memory had been wiped and replaced with this. Rather, he was satisfied that of all people, he could make Noah laugh like this (and Owen.. he supposes.) That night held for him some distasteful news, because how could Alejandro be the one melted into somebody else's palms?
Noah had noticed the sudden change in Alejandro's behavior, but it'd be a lie if he said he knew why it happened. And if anyone were to tell him why, he would deny it, because not only was it obviously not true, but he also didn't want it to be. The idea of someone as slimy, slippery, and eel-y as Alejandro even daring to approach him was for one, unfortunate, for two, terrible, and for three, impossible. But he couldn't help but ponder why this change had happened. Just why was Alejandro so... fidgety? He was running his hand through his hair what felt like every five minutes (Noah heard him curse under his breath once in spanish, likely at the realization of the inevitable accumulation of grease by the end of the day due to the excessive hand-to-root action), he kept unbuttoning and buttoning the top button of his shirt (Noah heard him mutter once, "is it too scandalous undone?"), and he wouldn't stop playing with his fingers, cracking and popping them, pulling and intertwining them—not that Noah was always watching his hands or anything, because he wasn't, but it was just such a drastic change to Alejandro's usually confident demeanor that you must be a fool to not notice it.
Alejandro did not notice—how could he be such a fool? Developing a crush on an opponent with a million dollars on the line? Pathetic.
The night following Noah's laughing fit, Alejandro found himself staring at Noah's sleeping form. Alejandro had noticed the way he usually sleeps, which would be creepy if Noah didn't have such a noticeable way of sleeping. He curled up to sleep, upright or on his side, and it was pretty cute. His eyes observed the way Noah was curled up against Owen's side, face resting into the other's fat. Ah, right. Owen. Alejandro felt a scowl creep up on his face when his eyes shifted to the blond's face—only to immediately divert his eyes, because Owen was already looking at him. He heard Owen laugh, which made his embarrassment double—embarrassment? I don't get embarrassed.
"Don't worry, Al." Gross. Al. "Noah doesn't know, so your secret is safe with me."
Alejandro blinked. He looked back at Owen, although reluctantly. "...Secret?"
Owen laughed again, and Alejandro was getting worried that he would wake Noah as he watched the smallest of them bounce against Owen. "You know, Al. Your cute little crush on Noah! He's smart and all, but he kind of sucks with love. You can take as much time as you want before you tell him. But between you and me, I think he likes you, too."
Alejandro's mind blanked. Crush? "Uh. My what."
Owen's face turned confused as well. "Oh... Do you not? Oops. Forget I said that about Noah."
Alejandro wished he could think of a decent response, but, what?
"Uh... No, I wouldn't say you're wrong. I just... didn't know myself."
"You—" Owen laughed again, this time making Noah groan in his sleep.
"Ugh... Owen. Stop, 'm trying to sleep." He said, not even opening his eyes.
"Sorry, buddy." Owen giggled, "Al's just pretty funny."
Alejandro glared at Owen, and the other shrugged.
"Sure." Noah groaned, adjusting his position before quickly falling back to sleep.
"Wow! How could you not know, Al? You're always looking at him and talking to him, 'n stuff. It's like Tyler and I aren't even there! And you're so nervous around him. I didn't know someone as cool and confident as you could get nervous around anyone. It makes me proud to know my little buddy could do that."
Alejandro nodded. "Hmm. You're right... Maybe that is the case."
It was a silent agreement between the two that it was their business and no one else's, an agreement that Alejandro wasn't too confident that Owen wouldn't break, but it was enough. Alejandro couldn't decide what was more shocking, an agreement between him and Owen, or the fact that he actually liked Noah in a more than just curious way. Looking back on what Owen said though, he thinks an Owen and Alejandro alliance is much more surprising.
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zer0pm · 9 months
Text
Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.
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“What’s in Spain?”
“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”
“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”
.
“You seem distracted.”
“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.
“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”
You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”
It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.
But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?
Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.
.
“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”
“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”
“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”
“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”
“This all sounds awful.”
“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”
“He must be very proud of you.”
“I hope so...”
“You don’t keep in touch?”
“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”
“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”
“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”
“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”
.
You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.
No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.
However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.
It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.
It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.
.
“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t go to Spain with you.”
“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”
“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”
“¿Mande? Why.”
“I want to tell you, I really do.”
“…Tú no me quieres.”
“No! Of course I do.”
“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”
“This isn’t about trust.”
“Then tell me what it is!”
“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”
“Just please remember that what we had was real.”
“¡Amor!”
“Goodbye, Luis.”
.
That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.
You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.
When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.
“Over here. I found someone.”
Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”
“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”
You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.
It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.
Luis Serra Navarro.
“Oh no, not you.”
The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.
“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”
You had so many questions.
.
.
.
A/N: Part Two can be found right here~
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