#genshin venti drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tnsophiaayaonly · 4 months ago

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LUTALICA

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ YOU'RE A YANDERE, WELL, AN EX-YANDERE TO BE SPECIFIC. AFTER COUNTLESS OF TIMES OF KILLING YOUR BELOVED, YOU FIND YOURSELF SUDDENLY GAINING AWARENESS DUE TO SOME VIRUS DISTORTING YOUR CHARACTER FILES. NOW YOU FIND YOURSELF WEIRDED OUT WHENEVER YOU'D FEEL SO INFATUATED OVER THIS GUY, AND YOU SWORE TO STOP BEING WEIRD. UNAWARE THAT YOUR DARLING'S GAINED AWARENESS TOO.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ MODERN AU. HIGHSCHOOL AU. YANDERE. AETHER, SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER, XIAO, VENTI, KINICH, ORORON

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ CONTENT WARNINGS: OBSESSIVE/CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR: EXPLICIT YANDERE THEMES AND EXTREME POSSESSIVENESS. OBSESSION AND STALKING, INCLUDING BEING FOLLOWED OR MONITORED. PHYSICAL RESTRAINT & KIDNAPPING: DEPICTIONS OF PHYSICAL RESTRAINT, CONFINEMENT, OR KIDNAPPING. UNLAWFUL DETAINMENT (E.G., LOCKING DOORS, FORCIBLY PREVENTING ESCAPE). CYBERCRIME & DIGITAL MANIPULATION: HACKING, INTERFERENCE WITH PERSONAL DEVICES, AND DIGITAL BLACKMAIL. EMOTIONAL & PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, AND COERCION DESIGNED TO CONTROL OR ISOLATE. THREATS—IMPLICIT OR EXPLICIT—THAT UNDERMINE PERSONAL AUTONOMY. NON-CONSENSUAL ACTS: ANY NON-CONSENSUAL OR FORCED BEHAVIOR, EVEN IF MASKED AS “PROTECTION”. ILLEGAL BEHAVIOR & UNLAWFUL ACTS: DESCRIPTIONS OR DEPICTIONS OF ACTIONS THAT ARE ILLEGAL (KIDNAPPING, DOCUMENT FORGERY, THEFT, ETC.) MATURE THEMES IN GENERAL. MENTIONS OF MURDER. MENTIONS OF BEING AWARE IN A GAME.

: ̗̀➛ note that I DO NOT condone such actions irl, and this is a work of fiction. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. part 1 (scara, aether).

-`♡´- PART 2

╰⪼ XIAO - Quiet Kid

There was something intoxicating about a man who stood alone, who existed behind a veil of solitude so thick it made you ache to tear it apart. Xiao was distant, untouchable—wrapped in a silence so heavy it pressed against your ribs, made it hard to breathe. He was always watching but never speaking, and that only made him more alluring. A man like that—one who locked himself away—made you crave him, made you want to unravel him, piece by piece, secret by secret, until there was nothing left but you.

Approaching him had felt natural, easy—perhaps too easy. Maybe you had been invasive. Maybe you had overwhelmed him. But what was love if not consuming? If not overwhelming?

You loved him. And love meant protecting him. Love meant defending him. Love meant taking a knife to anyone who dared to wrong him, who dared to hurt him, who dared to exist in a world that wasn’t solely his. That wasn’t solely yours.

Every time he looked at you, your breath caught, your chest tightened, your body thrummed with something electric and all-consuming. Every time he hit you—his fist colliding against your jaw, his grip bruising your wrist, his voice laced with venom—you felt yourself sink deeper, deeper, deeper. Because love wasn’t meant to be gentle. Love was meant to be raw, brutal, desperate. Love was meant to hurt.

But your heart is hammering now in a way that is wrong. The rhythm is off—it isn’t the frantic fluttering of infatuation. It isn’t love.

No. It’s terror.

Not of him.

Of yourself.

The realization had crept up on you, slow and insidious, wrapping around your throat, suffocating, refusing to let go. The world cracked open that day, splitting apart to reveal a truth so grotesque you wished you had never seen it. This wasn’t love. It had never been love.

It was sickness. It was obsession. It was something twisted and cruel, something that left blood in its wake. Something that left bodies behind.

So you stopped.

You stopped watching over him. You stopped lingering at his side. You stopped waiting for him to notice you.

And then, you disappeared from his life entirely.

At first, Xiao found relief in your absence. Finally, you were gone. Finally, you had faded into nothing. That was the way of the world, wasn’t it? He was meant to be alone. He had always known that. And you—you had been nothing but an annoyance, a pest, a thorn in his side that made others wary of him, that made them avoid him.

Good.

He preferred it that way. He had convinced himself of that.

Until he didn’t.

Until he noticed the silence.

Until he realized that no one was checking on him, that no one was leaving meals at his doorstep, that no one was shoving their way past his walls just to see if he had eaten, if he had slept, if he had even bothered to take a breath.

You had been there. Always there. Always pushing, always prying, always dragging him away from the edge of something dark and inevitable. Your presence had been suffocating, overwhelming, unbearable—but it had kept the abyss at bay. It had given him something other than his own self-loathing to focus on.

And now, it was gone.

And he hated it.

The first time he saw you again, it was by chance. A fleeting moment. A brush of shoulders in the crowded hallway, the briefest touch of warmth, gone before it could register.

He had turned, expecting—no, knowing—you would be there, clinging as you always did, eyes bright with devotion, lips already forming his name. You should have thrown yourself at him, babbling, touching, breathing him in like he was the only thing that kept you alive.

But you didn’t.

You flinched. Your body recoiled as if burned, eyes widening in something—fear?—before you stumbled back. And then, before he could even process it, you ran.

Cowardly. Pathetic.

The sight of it—the sheer absurdity—made something inside him curdle, twisting in ways he didn’t understand. His hands clenched before he realized they had even moved, nails digging into his palms, his breath leaving him in a sharp, uneven exhale.

You had always been relentless. You had always been constant. He had expected you to be there, to remain, to orbit him like a dying star until you burned out completely. It was a law of nature. You were his shadow, his echo, his ever-faithful devotee.

But you had left.

And that was unacceptable.

He didn’t think. He didn’t pause. He didn’t even acknowledge the decision before it had already been made. His body moved before his mind could catch up, following the remnants of your presence like an instinct, like a curse.

It was only when he stopped that he realized where he had gone.

Your classroom.

Not his martial arts practice. Not anywhere he was meant to be.

Just here.

And there you were.

Alone.

Perfect.

Waiting.

A gift, wrapped in trembling uncertainty, left unguarded.

How convenient.

He stepped forward, silent, a shadow stretching toward you, inevitable, inescapable. The air in the room grew heavier, thick with the weight of his presence. You didn’t notice at first, too lost in whatever thoughts had stolen you away from him.

He hated that.

He wanted to be the only thing in your mind.

“I noticed you’re not watching over me like before.”

His voice, smooth yet edged with something he couldn’t quite name, shattered the fragile quiet.

You startled, shoulders jerking, a visible shudder running down your spine. The reaction sent a slow, burning satisfaction curling through his chest.

Good.

He wanted you to squirm. He wanted you to feel the weight of him pressing down, suffocating, overwhelming. He wanted you to remember what it was like to be trapped beneath his gaze, helpless against it.

Slowly, cautiously, you turned to face him.

Your eyes—wide, startled, flickering with something fragile and afraid—locked onto his, and something in his stomach twisted. He had never seen you look at him like that before.

He didn’t like it.

“Is everything okay? I—”

He hesitated.

He never hesitated.

You stared at him for a long, quiet moment, lips parting, something uneasy forming in your expression before you finally spoke, your voice small, uncertain.

“Hi, uhm... I just... didn’t feel like it?”

Didn’t feel like it?

What?

His expression didn’t change, but something inside him cracked, splintering apart like glass under pressure.

Didn’t feel like it?

What the hell did that mean?

He didn’t understand.

You were supposed to be obsessed with him. You were supposed to be relentless. You were supposed to be his.

And yet, you had pulled away. You had turned from him. You had abandoned him in a way he didn’t even have the words to describe.

He left without another word.

But he wasn’t done.

Because he cared.

And now, he had to make sure you never, ever stopped again.Xiao began to shadow you without you knowing, his presence slipping into the spaces between heartbeats, between footsteps, between the seconds you thought you were alone. His silent, unrelenting gaze followed your every move, desperate to re-create the security he once felt in your presence. He had never known peace until you—until the fleeting warmth you unknowingly offered became the only thing that could keep him grounded. But now, as you drifted away, he felt something far worse than pain.

Everywhere, you felt eyes. Eyes in your room, eyes in class, eyes in the hallway. Even in the sanctuary of your home, the walls felt thinner, the air heavier, thick with something unspoken yet suffocating. The feeling clawed at the edges of your sanity, making you flinch at shadows, second-guess your reflection, your every step. The more you willed yourself to move on—to silence the obsession you once had for Xiao—the more the stare burned into you, relentless, inescapable.

It all came to a head one night. Unable to bear the gut-wrenching paranoia curling in your stomach, you stayed late at school, convincing yourself that being in the presence of others—teachers, janitors, anyone—would dispel the eerie sensation of being watched. But schools were not meant to be occupied past dark. The halls, once filled with chatter, now yawned empty, the fluorescent lights flickering like a dying heartbeat. And when the school finally closed, leaving you with no choice but to step into the night alone, the dread settled deep in your bones.

You walked home, hyper-aware, your head snapping to every shifting shadow. Left. Right. Back. Front. No matter where you looked, you felt the presence—closer than before, pressing against your senses like invisible fingers ghosting over your skin.

And then—

A hand grabbed your shoulder.

You almost screamed. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, arm swinging to strike at the unseen assailant. But before the blow could land, your wrist was caught, effortlessly, as if your resistance was nothing but a fragile illusion.

"Why are you walking home so late by yourself?"

Xiao’s voice was steady, his grip firm but not painful—possessive in its restraint. His golden eyes, once so distant, were dark now, unreadable, bottomless. They bore into you, pinning you in place as effectively as the fingers wrapped around your wrist.

Your breath hitched.

"I—"

"I’ll walk you home."

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

There was no room to refuse.

So you agreed.

But you didn’t expect him to take a different route.

Didn’t expect him to hold your hand tighter and tighter until your fingers tingled from lack of blood.

Didn’t expect the slow realization—the creeping horror—that this was not the way home.

"Xiao… this isn’t—"

He stopped walking.

And before you could react, before you could scream, before you could even think of running—

The world blurred. The air vanished from your lungs as his arms encircled you, an iron cage wrapped in the illusion of warmth.

The next time you opened your eyes, the walls were unfamiliar. The air smelled like incense, like something sacred and ancient. And the bed beneath you—

No.

You couldn’t move.

Panic surged through your veins as you struggled, your wrists bound, your breath coming in shallow gasps. A shadow moved in the dim candlelight, and then, there he was—watching you.

Xiao knelt beside you, his eyes a storm, turbulent with something raw, something terrifyingly tender.

"I’m sorry. This is the only way I can keep you with me."

His voice was soft, almost regretful, but the hunger in his gaze betrayed him.

The need. The greed. The unbearable devotion.

It was too much to bear.

He reached out, fingers ghosting over your cheek, tracing the shape of you as if to memorize, to claim. He leaned in, breath warm against your skin as he whispered apologies between desperate kisses pressed to your temple, your brow, your lips. Each one trembling with emotion, each one a prayer, a curse.

For being selfish.

For indulging in his desire.

For making you his karma.

And this time, no matter how much you fought, how much you begged—

He would never let you go.

╰⪼ VENTI - The Free-Spirited Musician

You were always so lost in life—adrift, untethered, drowning in an endless sea of monotony and despair. Everything was dull, every breath drawn out like a cruel mockery of existence itself. Until him.

Venti was sunlight in a world that had long since dimmed for you. He was laughter spun into melody, an ever-burning ember of warmth that thawed the ice in your chest. He made you feel alive for the first time in forever, and that was something you could never let go of.

You became utterly, hopelessly infatuated—no, that wasn’t strong enough. You were obsessed. You craved him the way a dying man craved air, the way a starving soul would gnaw through bone just to taste something real. Just being near him sent tremors of euphoria through you. Your eyes shone like they had never before, cheeks stained in an endless blush, heart thrumming like a frenzied drumbeat. It was maddening. It was intoxicating. It was love in its rawest, most terrifying form.

People noticed the change. One day, you were nothing—a hollow thing, with empty eyes and lips pressed into a thin, lifeless line. The next, you were a flurry of energy, glowing, vibrating with an unsettling kind of devotion. You trailed after him like a shadow that refused to fade, clinging to every word, every note, every scrap of attention he threw your way. Others whispered, wondered. How could someone shift so violently, so suddenly? How could mere presence turn a person from despondence to delirium?

Venti laughed it off at first, waving away the murmurs of concern. He had always drawn people to him; he was used to it. He thought it was flattering—endearing, even—how your face lit up the moment you saw him, how your fingers twitched with the desire to reach out but never quite dared.

But then the disappearances began.

Posters littered the walls, faces of men who had once crossed paths with him—some he barely knew, some he had laughed with once or twice. One by one, they vanished, swallowed by some unseen force, leaving nothing behind but fading echoes of familiarity.

At first, he dismissed it as coincidence. The world was vast and cruel, and people vanished all the time. But as the list grew, as his name was the only common thread among the missing, as your unwavering, feverish adoration never wavered—

He knew.

It had to be you.

Still, he never said anything. He never confronted you. What would he even say? He wasn’t afraid of you, not really, but there was something in the way you looked at him—like you would tear apart the world just to keep him in your grasp.

And yet, something changed.

One day, you stopped waiting for him after class. You stopped lingering near the places he frequented. Your fingers stopped twitching in his presence, your eyes no longer burned holes into his back. You became tame.

And then, you became distant.

It started subtly. A missed lunch here, a forgotten conversation there. You stopped seeking him out, stopped giving him that wide-eyed, desperate look as if he were the only thing keeping you tethered to this world.

Then days passed. And passed. And passed.

Until he almost never saw you at all.

And for the first time, Venti felt something foreign stir in his chest. Something wrong. Something akin to loss.

Why did it feel like something was slipping through his fingers?

One day, it was lunch. You were eating alone on the rooftop, the wind always so great up here, the vast sky stretching endlessly before you. It was peaceful—too peaceful, the kind that made your chest feel hollow rather than full.

"Oh, there you are!" Venti's voice shattered the silence, making you flinch. He strolled up to you with his usual carefree grin, but something in his eyes gleamed sharper than before. "How are you? Did you have a great day? Did you miss me? Have you eaten?" He bombarded you with questions, eyes flicking over your face like he was searching for something—something that used to be there but wasn’t anymore.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief.

"What?" His smile didn’t waver, but his head tilted slightly, studying you. "Where did that passionate devotee go? I miss the love you brought me, even if it drove me nuts sometimes." He chuckled, but it was hollow.

Your stomach twisted, nausea creeping in.

"I always thought your wild devotion was the spark that lit up my days," he continued, plopping down beside you with a sigh, stretching his arms behind his head as if this were just another casual afternoon. Then, his tone shifted, quiet, almost vulnerable. "Now… it’s as if someone turned the music off."

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Because you felt it too.

You had always clashed with his breezy, untamed spirit—your dependency on him, your suffocating adoration, it had overwhelmed him. And yet, despite everything, Venti had secretly enjoyed it. He had basked in the knowledge that someone loved him that intensely. That someone cared so desperately.

But now? Now, you were slipping away. Your passion diluted, your obsession faded. And Venti—

Venti didn’t like that.

At first, he thought he would relish the peace, the freedom. But now, with you sitting beside him like a ghost of the person you once were, staring at him as if he were nothing but a fading dream—

He felt unmoored.

He missed the frantic, fevered glint in your eyes. The way your hands would shake with excitement just to be near him. The way you needed him, so entirely, so absolutely.

And if that fire had gone out—

Well.

Maybe it was time he rekindled it.

You just left. Without a word, without a second glance. As if all the time you spent together, all the laughter, all the stolen moments—none of it had mattered to you.

He didn’t like that.

No, he hated it.

It gnawed at him, a quiet, festering wound that refused to close. He watched—always watching—as you slipped further away, as you filled the space he once occupied with others. He saw how easily you could talk to them, smile at them, laugh in a way that used to be just for him. Why them? Why not him?

No.

That wasn’t how this was going to go.

If you wouldn’t come back to him willingly, then he would make sure there was nowhere else for you to turn. At first, it was subtle—an offhand comment here, a lingering stare there. But when that wasn’t enough, when you still insisted on keeping your distance, he decided to be more... persuasive.

His playful teasing took on a sharper edge, something darker, something crueler. Every time he saw you speaking to someone else, he found a way to fix it. After all, he was well-liked, charming, the kind of person people wanted to please. It wasn’t hard to “convince” others to keep their distance from you. A few rumors, a well-placed lie, a casual suggestion whispered in the right ear—it was all so easy.

And when you finally noticed, when you finally turned to him with confusion in your eyes, with nowhere else left to go…

Well.

That’s exactly what he wanted.

It started small. Innocent, almost. A missing phone here, a misplaced wallet there. Little things. Things that could happen to anyone, right? Maybe you were just being careless, distracted.

But then it kept happening. Your keys would vanish right when you were about to leave, only for him to miraculously “find” them hours later, tucked away in a place you swore you never put them. Your phone would be gone just long enough to make you late for plans—plans that mysteriously fell apart afterward. Your student ID? Your bus pass? They’d disappear, rendering you stuck, stranded. And who else could you turn to but him?

He always had a solution, a spare key, a replacement card, an offer to cover for whatever you lost. With a teasing smile, a playful laugh, he’d hand your things back like he was doing you a favor. Like he wasn’t the one orchestrating it all.

And then came the incidents.

An urgent text in the middle of the night—

I think someone’s following me, can you come over?

A sudden injury—

I think I twisted my ankle, can you help me get to the nurse’s office?

A campus-wide alert—

There’s been a safety issue, everyone should stay inside.

Little things that forced you to linger, to stay just a little longer, to spend more time with him until being around him became routine. Until relying on him became second nature.

At first, it was annoying. Then it was exhausting. And then…

It was suffocating.

It felt like no one else existed. The world outside blurred, grew smaller, less real. The campus, once so big, so full of people, now felt empty. Just the two of you. Just him.

Wait—when did it get this bad?

Wait—when did the campus get so small?

Wait—why are you in his bed?

And why don’t you know how you got here?

i js realized idk how to proofread lmao, anyways, HERE YA GOOO aahhhhh, i've been busy with life

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4barbatos · 6 days ago

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✦ disorders of 5wirl

what it’s like dating them through dysfunction, delusion, and decay.

cw: mental illness, emotional manipulation, self-harm, suicidal ideation, alcohol abuse, grief, trauma, gaslighting, toxic relationships, codependency, modern au, hurt no comfort.

a/n: i’m not a professional, and i don’t claim to perfectly represent any of the mental illnesses in this fic. i did my best to research each one, but a lot of it is also based on my own behavior, thoughts, and experiences — which makes this deeply personal to me TT i’m sorry in advance if it hurts to read. it hurt to write, too </3

venti – alcohol dependency + persistent depressive disorder (dysthymia)

he’s drunk when you pick him up from work.

again.

his manager texts you with something polite — “venti had a rough day again, would you mind…” — and you already know what that means. you don’t ask for details anymore. you just grab your keys and go.

he’s outside the building when you get there, sprawled across the front steps, a bottle in a brown paper bag clutched to his chest like a comfort blanket. he sees you and lights up like a child.

“my ride has arrived,” he slurs, pushing himself to his feet and swaying like a dandelion in the wind.

he leans into you, all dead weight and dizzy warmth, humming something tuneless, something about heartbreak and sky-colored dreams. he reeks of rum and bad decisions. you steady him without a word.

“i’m fine,” he says on the ride home, head on your shoulder. “just a little drink. i’m just… poetic when i’m tipsy, you know?”

you’ve heard that one before.

you’ve watched him drink through an entire bottle of wine before noon. you’ve had to carry him to the shower while he laughed and mumbled lyrics into your collarbone. you’ve held his hand in the emergency room after he fell down the stairs, pupils blown wide, breath soaked in tequila.

you don’t believe him anymore. but you still nod. because the alternative is asking him to stop, and watching him fall apart even faster.

he calls it his “muse.” you call it his slow death.

you’ve seen him sober, but it’s rare. brief. like a comet in the sky — bright, brilliant, and gone before you can hold onto it. he’s gentler when he’s clear-headed. softer. quieter. sadder.

sometimes he sings in his sleep. sometimes he cries. sometimes he stares at the ceiling for hours, eyes dry, lips moving like he’s praying — to who, you don’t know. he hasn’t believed in gods for a long time.

his apartment is littered with empty bottles and notebooks.

the bottles get recycled. the notebooks don’t.

he leaves them open, like he wants you to read them. and you do, even when it hurts.

his handwriting gets shakier the more he drinks — sometimes whole lines slant sideways across the page. sometimes the ink is smudged with tears. sometimes you can’t tell the difference.

one morning, you find one sitting on the kitchen counter, still warm with the shape of his hand. the last line reads:

“i’m sorry you had to love a corpse with a heartbeat.”

you tear the page out. quietly. you fold it and tuck it into your pocket, hands shaking.

he never asks where it went. and you never bring it up.

instead, you kiss his forehead when he stumbles in at 3am, breath sour with gin, cheeks flushed. you hold him as he collapses into your arms like a child. he sighs against your neck and says,

“you’re the only thing that makes the world feel less loud.”

but it’s not love. it’s dependency. inertia. decay.

and you don’t know if he’s killing himself on purpose anymore — or if he’s just given up trying not to.

xiao – depression + complex ptsd

he doesn’t speak unless spoken to. he doesn’t touch you unless you touch him first. even then — it’s hesitant. fragile. like he’s afraid he might break you just by existing.

being with xiao feels like trying to hold fog in your hands. he’s there. and then he’s not. you reach for him, and he lets you — but only barely. only long enough for your heart to start hoping before the silence settles in again like dust.

he never says i love you unless you say it first. he never texts first. never asks if you’re okay. never initiates anything beyond presence.

he just exists. on the edge of your bed, in the corner of a room, near you — but never really with you.

you ask him, sometimes, why he disappears.

he shrugs. looks down. fingers clench in his sleeves like he’s trying to fold himself smaller.

“i didn’t want to be a burden.”

he says it like it’s a fact. like that’s just what he is.

he vanishes for days at a time. no calls. no warning. sometimes he turns his phone off completely. sometimes he leaves it behind. you panic. you spiral. you sit by the door with your heart in your throat, waiting for a knock that doesn’t come.

and when he returns — it’s quiet. like it never happened.

sometimes he looks like he’s been in a fight. bruises on his knuckles. cuts on his cheek. dried blood under his nails. he never explains.

you ask, “where were you?” he answers, “walking.”

you ask, “are you okay?” he answers, “i’m here, aren’t i?”

you start to wonder if he’s trying to die.

you don’t say it out loud. but it clings to the silence like smoke.

he never cries. never yells. never breaks. he just carries this still, heavy sadness everywhere he goes — like it’s welded to his spine.

he stands in the doorway after each vanishing act, face pale, hair damp from rain or sweat or grief, and says,

“sorry. i didn’t mean to make you worry.”

like it’s not the tenth time this month.

like you didn’t think you’d have to identify him in a morgue. like you didn’t sit on the bathroom floor at 2am, shaking, wondering if loving him is the same as bleeding out slowly with your hands tied behind your back.

he tells you you’re too good to him. he tells you he doesn’t deserve this. he tells you not to wait for him if it gets too hard.

but then he clings to you in the middle of the night — softly. like it’s accidental. like it hurts him to need you.

you feel it when he breathes: the guilt, the numbness, the way his ribs tremble when your fingers brush over his scars.

he never says thank you. he never says stay.

but he looks at you like you’re the last light left in a world that’s long since burned.

and you stay. because you don’t know how to walk away from someone who already believes they’re gone.

heizou – persistent complex bereavement disorder + obsessive traits

he loves you like he’s afraid you’ll die.

not just leave — die. vanish. disappear. go cold like the last person he loved. like the boy with bright eyes and a sharper mind who bled out because heizou was twenty minutes too late.

he doesn’t say his name anymore. he doesn’t have to. you see him in the way he checks your location ten times a day. you hear him in the silence after every argument. you feel him in the way he panics if your phone rings twice without an answer.

he doesn’t call it trauma. he calls it “being prepared.” calls it “rational.” calls it “not making the same mistake twice.”

he keeps track of everything. every password. every safe word. every route you take to work. he memorizes your calendar and reminds you to eat at 2:15pm exactly. he checks the locks twice before bed, then again after you fall asleep.

you say, “this isn’t healthy.” he says, “you think being dead is healthier?”

his voice never rises. he’s never cruel. but there’s a steeliness in him — something inflexible. obsessive. something that says: “i already lost one person. i won’t lose another.”

and the truth is, he doesn’t trust the world. doesn’t trust you. not to survive. not to stay safe. not to stay.

you try to love him gently. he doesn’t know what to do with gentle.

you reach for him in the morning — he flinches. not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid of comfort. because it feels wrong to be held when someone else is six feet under because of him.

he won’t let you touch the box in the back of his closet. you do, once. it’s full of old newspaper clippings and case notes and a photo printed so many times it’s starting to fade.

you confront him.

he doesn’t get angry. he just goes quiet. quieter than usual.

“he was my friend,” he says. and then, softer: “i think he would’ve been yours, too.”

you ask if he’s ever let himself grieve.

he laughs. just once. hollow.

“this is me grieving.”

he doesn’t believe he deserves happiness. he tells you that sometimes, when he thinks you’re asleep.

“you should be with someone normal.” “you’d be safer without me.” “i think i’m just keeping you here to punish myself.”

you reach for him. he lets you. but his shoulders stay tense. his hands stay cold.

loving heizou feels like wrapping your arms around barbed wire and pretending it doesn’t cut you.

you tell him, “you’re not broken.”

he whispers, “then why do i bleed on everything i touch?”

and you don’t have an answer. so you just hold him tighter. and pray he doesn’t vanish into his grief before you do.

kazuha – self-harm (cutting) + dysthymia + avoidant personality disorder

you stopped asking about the bandages months ago.

they show up in the laundry sometimes — clean gauze, stained edges. rolled too neatly for accidents. they’re always on his forearms. left wrist more than right. layered under his sweaters, always hidden, but never that well.

he never flinches when you look. he just smiles. soft. tired. unreadable.

“don’t worry,” he says, like that’s ever worked. “they’re old.”

but you touch his arm one night, gently — just a brush of fingertips — and he inhales too sharply to be casual. you pull back like you’ve touched fire. he laughs it off and kisses your forehead.

you don’t sleep.

his poetry never helps either. it’s beautiful. it’s haunting. it’s the only time he ever tells the truth. you read the drafts left on the kitchen counter, in the notes app, in the corners of receipts and torn envelopes. they always end the same:

“i want to vanish like the last light of dusk.” “some things weren’t made to stay.” “even the wind knows when to let go.”

you memorize them. just in case.

you don’t find out how bad it really is until you catch him by accident. bathroom door unlocked. early morning. you weren’t supposed to be awake.

he doesn’t hear you at first — he’s too focused. sleeves rolled up, blade against his skin, methodical and quiet like he’s brushing dust from a shelf. no panic. no mess. just another routine.

when you whisper his name, he looks up.

he doesn’t hide it. he doesn’t apologize. he just says, “i thought you were asleep.”

his voice is so calm it terrifies you.

you don’t yell. you just kneel beside him, hands trembling, trying to take the razor away without breaking the fragile stillness between you. he lets you. not because he wants to, but because you look like you’re about to fall apart.

“i don’t do it because i want to die.”

you ask him what he does want. he doesn’t answer.

you beg him to let you help. he says, “i don’t want to be a burden.” you say he’s not. he doesn’t believe you.

after that, he disappears more often.

not for long — a day, two, sometimes three. no goodbye. no explanation. just silence.

you learn the patterns. when you cry, when you raise your voice, when you say you’re scared — that’s when he leaves. not out of cruelty. out of fear.

he doesn’t know how to be needed. he doesn’t know how to exist without apologizing for it.

he always comes back. quiet, sheepish, empty-eyed.

sometimes with flowers. sometimes with food. sometimes with a poem folded in half and slipped into your hand like a confession.

“i’m sorry. it won’t happen again.”

you both know it will.

but he smiles like he means it. and you smile back, because loving kazuha feels like holding your breath underwater — peaceful. delicate. just painful enough to ignore.

you start doing everything more gently.

you knock before entering rooms. you lower your voice even when you’re upset. you stop crying where he can see you.

you shrink yourself so he doesn’t run.

and still — he runs.

you stay. because he needs you. because he’s beautiful when he’s hurting. because you don’t know where your sadness ends and his begins anymore.

and somewhere deep down, you think: maybe if you’re soft enough, small enough, safe enough — he’ll stop trying to disappear.

but he never does.

and you keep pretending that’s not killing you.

scaramouche – borderline personality disorder + emotional dysregulation

your phone rings at 2:37am.

you don’t even look. you already know who it is. it’s always him. always at this hour. always when you’ve just drifted into sleep deep enough to feel safe.

five calls in a row. then a voicemail. then a text: “please don’t leave me. please. please. please.”

you’re up before you can think. shoes on. jacket over your pajamas. keys shaking in your hand. there’s no logic anymore — just instinct, panic, guilt that blooms fast and poisonous in your gut.

because what if this is the time he means it? what if he’s hurt? what if you don’t answer and he —

you don’t let yourself finish the thought.

his apartment door is unlocked. you rush in, breathless, heart in your throat. and there he is. on the couch. dry-eyed. perfectly calm. laughing at some trashy late-night reality show, wrapped in a blanket he stole from your place weeks ago.

he looks up like nothing happened. like he didn’t just drag you out of bed with a near-suicidal panic attack. like he didn’t just twist the knife in your chest for fun.

“you made it,” he says, grinning. “knew you would.”

you don’t speak. you just stand there, soaking wet from the rain, mascara smudged under your eyes, your breath caught somewhere between a scream and a sob.

he pats the couch. “c’mere.”

you do. because of course you do.

being with scaramouche is like weathering a storm that never ends. no warning. no pattern. just destruction. you used to try and read him — map the triggers, trace the moods. now you just flinch when the wind changes.

sometimes he loves you so hard you can’t breathe.

he cups your face and says you’re the only good thing in the world. he kisses you like he’s starving. he texts you twenty-five times in an hour to ask if you’re still thinking about him. if you still love him. if you’re sure.

and sometimes —

sometimes he looks at you like you disgust him. like you’re a joke. like you’re a traitor just for needing five minutes of space.

“you’re obsessed with making everything about yourself.” “stop acting like i’m abusing you.” “you think you’re better than me? then leave. go ahead. just like everyone else did.”

you used to argue. now, you just sit there. you’ve learned the hard way that defending yourself is blood in the water.

he accuses. he spirals. he weeps.

you get good at patching him together. you stop patching yourself.

he’s already reaching for you now, wrapping himself around you, arms clutching too tightly like if he lets go you’ll vanish. his voice breaks into your shoulder.

“don’t let me ruin this too. please. i’m trying. i swear i’m trying.”

he is. and he isn’t. he wants to get better. but only if it doesn’t hurt. only if it doesn’t mean giving up the parts of you he feeds on.

he cries and you wipe his tears. he rages and you take it. he threatens to die and you believe him every single time.

and when it’s quiet again, when he’s breathing soft against your neck and the chaos has burned itself out, he says:

“you’re still here. i knew you would be.”

like that’s proof you love him. like your survival instinct isn’t dead.

and it is. because deep down, you already know:

he’s going to do this again. tomorrow. next week. the next time he feels hollow and furious and terrified and too full of love to hold it right.

he doesn't mean to hurt you. but he doesn't know how not to. and you don't know how to stop letting him.

you keep calling it love. maybe it is. maybe it's just what love looks like when neither of you knows how to survive it.

#genshin x reader #genshin angst #venti x reader #venti angst #venti brainrot #xiao x reader #xiao angst #xiao brainrot #heizou x reader #heizou angst #heizou brainrot #kazuha x reader #kazuha angst #kazuha brainrot #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #scaramouche brainrot #i kinda hate myself for writing this 🧐#isy drabbles 💌

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yourlittlegoblin · 4 months ago

Text

{How Venti Shows His Love} Venti x Reader

Yellow hello mellow with shits and giggles mother fuckers because I am totally not pretending to be high for shits and giggles while watching a video in the background as we speak so guys live laugh love because shits about to go down and sorry not sorry but its long

Venti doesn’t just say he loves you—he sings it

In the middle of town, in the fields even in the middle of a battle

Wakes you up with soft melodies playing his lyre outside your window like some windborne bardic Romeo

Sometimes the songs are sweet, other times they’re absolute nonsense he made up on the spot

If you hum a tune absentmindedly you will hear it later that day

You will either being played in the tavern, whistled by passing NPCs, or woven into a full song

He loves the way you laugh

Pls laugh at his jokes he uses it to cover how hes crippling inside because he feels like you're attracted to the persona he plays and for the body of his dead friend and not who he truly is

If you ever laugh at one of his dumb little songs, he will absolutely repeat it forever

You have doomed yourself

Whisks you away on a breeze when you least expect it

Trust me it is always unexpected

You’ll be mid-conversation with someone, then suddenly—whoosh—now you’re on the rooftop of Angel’s Share with a beautiful view of the sunset

“We can talk here. It’s more private. And romantic. And your hair looks pretty in the wind.”

Randomly twirls you around in the middle of the street

Writes poetry for you but disguises it as just another one of his usual songs

“Oh, that song? Just a little something inspired by my muse~” winks obnoxiously "Ehe~"

Leaves tiny wind-blessed trinkets in your pockets. A feather that never gets dirty, a little carved Anemo sigil that hums in the breeze, a scrap of parchment with illegible but undeniably pretty handwriting

If you ever get lost in Mondstadt, don’t worry—Venti will literally send a breeze to guide you home

Hates walking

Loves floating

Sometimes he just… picks you up with the wind and carries you along with him. It’s an honor really

“My dear, walking is so boring! Let me show you the joys of soaring instead~”

Has an uncanny ability to appear the moment you think about him

You sigh his name in frustration while struggling with something? Boom. There he is

“Ah, you called for your beloved bard? Fear not, for I have arrived!”

Pouts dramatically if you don’t give him attention

He will sigh and flop onto you like a lifeless doll

“Ah… I am but a forgotten wind spirit… abandoned and neglected… only a single kiss can bring me back to life…”

If you kiss him you will break him for like 3 seconds before he proceeds to pull you into a make-out session that lasts like 30 mins

Steals sips of your drinks without asking

Writes love notes and literally sends them on the wind

You could be minding your business, and suddenly a scrap of parchment flutters into your hands: “Meet me at Windrise~”

Always, always holds onto you when flying together. Not because he needs to—he just likes it

Oh and do I have to mention that hes clingy?

Whispers sweet nothings in your ear when no one’s around

The kind that make you wonder if he’s just being a flirt… or if there’s something more beneath it

“The wind is jealous, you know. It wishes it could carry you like I do.”

Turns even the smallest, most mundane things into a grand romantic gesture

Walking to the market? Now it’s a romantic stroll. Sitting under a tree? Now it’s a fated meeting of souls

Knows exactly how to fluster you. And he lives for it

But beneath all the playfulness, his love is as deep as the winds that have carried him for centuries

He doesn’t just love you in the moment—he loves you as a song, an ode, an everlasting melody that will never fade

And when he holds you close, when the mischief in his eyes softens into something warm and unguarded, you know—he truly means it

#genshin x you #headcanons #fyp #headcanon #x you #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #venti x reader #venti genshin impact #drabble #venti the bard #venti #venti x you #venti x y/n

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dreamy-moon-cat · 1 year ago

Text

━━━━➳༻❀✿❀༺➳━━━━

✧•° 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔..~°•✧

║➳ 𝐼𝑑𝑜𝑙!6𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒 : ♪ 𝑆𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑒/𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑟, 𝑋𝑖𝑎𝑜, 𝑉𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖, 𝐾𝑎𝑧𝑢ℎ𝑎, 𝐴𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝐻𝑒𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑢 ♪

║➳ 𝑃𝑜𝑣: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 [𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒] 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑'𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙. 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜ℎ𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡.

— 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑠𝑜 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒.

— 𝑚𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 𝑎𝑢, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝

◤✎...◢ ʜɪ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ,ɴᴊᴏʏ!~

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

『✦』𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞/𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫

- 𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 7:55 𝑝.𝑚.

Usually you write to him first, but sometimes he can take the initiative and share something himself by writing or recording a voice message. But usually these are small messages about how he is, where and what he is doing. He also asks you the same thing during the day. It often reminds you to do something, eat or relax, adding at the end what an dummy you are to forget about such basic things. At the end of the day, he always writes that he has already finished and warns if something goes wrong and/or he'll be late.

Like this time, the dance practice dragged on until late in the evening, so Scaramouch would definitely write down to you that he would be late and he will record a voice message mentioning how tired he is and how his whole body aches. And he will complain that when he became an idol, he was not ready for the fact that he would have to suffer with learning choreography more than with recording songs. In the background, at the end of the message, Heizou's voice could be heard calling Scaramouch by some stupid nickname he had recently invented, teasing that if he did not hurry up, they would stay even longer.

"- How you all fucked me up. If you call me that again, I'll personally lock you in the back room with inventory for all exits! That's it, fuck off. I'm going home,you loser's. " It seems that it was the last straw for Scaramouch and he left slamming the door after throwing something at Heizou. Sometimes, because of his character, he and the team have some disagreements and disputes, but after a while, when he cools down, everything comes back to normal.

" - I'll be home in half an hour. Today we were with the team at the mall, I bought you your chocolate that you wanted to try and talked about the other day. I don't understand how you can eat this sugar crap. In general, I will try to return as soon as possible. I ... love you, I'll be home soon"

It seems he stayed alone and softened recording a second voice message for you, saying, albeit still confused and somehow uncertain, but so tenderly and tremulously his words about love for you.

『✦』𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

- 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒/𝑆𝑀𝑆. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 6:00 𝑝.𝑚

He usually writes a small message, briefly but to the point.

This time he would warn you that he will be a little late, because they are recording a song in the studio today, but that he will be returning home in an hour. He will ask how you are doing and, of course, in the end he will add that he missed you and loves you.

Recently, he began to add a smiley face to the words about love, because Venty once made a remark to him that not only does he write only on business, but that text also looks terribly dry. Xiao may have been annoyed at him for sticking his nose where he wasn't asked, but he took note worrying that you were thinking the same way. You thought it was very sweet.

"...I know we had plans to watch this movie together tonight, but it seems I'm going to be late. Sorry. I'll try to come back as soon as possible, I love you, light of my life♥️ "

『✦』𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢

- 𝐿𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑/𝑜𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 6:00 𝑡𝑜 8:50 ��𝑚.

Venty always takes everything off. Whether they are recording a song, shooting a music video or during a break - he always sends you either voice or video messages in his free (or not at all) time. There can be 20 or more of them per day. He likes to share with you everything that is happening around him, because he believes that he is getting closer to you during.

And this time was no exception. Venty recorded several video messages with how they were doing choreography, how Scaramouche again got into a fight with Heizou because of his unsuccessful jokes about the blue-haired man, and in the last seconds of the message it was seen how Skara threw something at Heizou. The video ends here. The last one was a voice message that he was already on his way home and he had a gift for you.

" - I've already called a taxi and I'll be home soon, Windbloom. I missed you so much! By the way, I bought something for you today when I went to the mall with the guys during the break. I've missed you so much and I'm already flying to you on the wings of the wind! ~ See you soon, I love you~"

『✦』𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚

- 𝑅𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 6:40 𝑝.𝑚.

Kazuha is still a romantic, so he often writes to you during the day if something impressed him and reminded him of you, or if he and the guys went somewhere, he wants to take you to a place that he liked. His messages are full of feelings and very gentle and sweet, it seems like that you are reading some kind of quote or excerpt from a book. In voice messages, even small ones, he also often talks about you. There was not a single message where he did not at least once say that he loves you and that he thinks of you, that you are his muse and inspire him.

You were planning to spend the evening together today, but unfortunately he was delayed at the recording studio of the song. That's why he warned you that he would be late and apologized for having to cancel plans for the evening.

"...I'm sorry about what happened, my love, please don't be bored. I will try to finish all the business as soon as possible. I will definitely compensate you for tonight ,on the next weekend, which we will spend just the two of us."

A minute later, he sent a voice message: "- And I love you~" He added that. You heard by his voice that Kazuha was tired, but he noticed that he had not written a word about love, so he hurried to record a voice message.

『✦』𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

- 𝐿𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑..𝐴 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙? 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 7:00 𝑝.𝑚

Oh, he's a tricky one, especially when it comes to you. Yes, he gives his best at work, during concerts, and in principle, he really treats his work with soul and zeal, sometimes even overdo it more than others. But still, he has his own "brakes" which are you. If Iter said that he would be at home specifically at such a time, he would be at home at that time. There was not a single case that he was late. Sometimes it's even embarrassing in front of the manager and the rest of the guys that your boyfriend treats time like that and often puts them in an awkward position if he need to stay somewhere and finish it, and he doesn't care and he goes home where you are waiting for him.

During the day, he can throw off cute stickers if he can't write to you at all, he also records a voice message telling you something and asking how you're doing, and that he misses you terribly and, as agreed, he will be home on time.

This time, during the shooting of the video, he and the team had to stay for a couple of hours and finish shooting, but, Aether it Aether. He had already gone home as soon as the hands on the clock reached 7:00 p.m. The manager just had to be indignant and think about how to get out of the situation while the idol was walking to the taxi talking to you on the phone. You asked several times if everything was okay, but he assured you that everything was fine and there would be no problems, and that it was time for you to get ready, as soon as he arrived you two would go on a date.

"Don't worry dear, everything is really fine. I'm already walking up to the car and I'll be home in 20 minutes. You should have packed up by now. I love you, I'll be there soon."

There were beeps, you just sighed, hoping that everything was really okay. As a result, the release of the video was delayed, but it didn't bother Aether at all, because it was important for him that he was able to spend the evening with his beloved.

But for the sake of decency, Aether really tries and gives his best during work, he comes to the studio before everyone else, so he leaves the same way earlier. He often additionally studies vocals or learns choreography and his parts, bringing everything to perfection, so that such antics are forgiven by virtue of his efforts.

『✦』𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐮

- 𝑉𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠, 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠/𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 10:00 𝑝.𝑚.

Heizou often records something funny, flirts with you, and records funny voice messages with typical tackles. It used to embarrassing you a lot, but now you just laugh and think it's funny. He also often throws you photos or videos from tiktok with seals with the words "this is us" or "me and you". Also, Heizo writes every time you get bored or think about writing him yourself. It seems as if he reads your thoughts even without being around and easily anticipates your actions.

You knew that today they and the team were shooting a video for a new song, so you tried not to bother him, even though you were bored and sad alone. Usually you can keep yourself busy, but this evening the longing did not let you go for a very long time. You've been looking at the phone lying next to you for several minutes, and as soon as you picked it up, a notification came. You looked around, suspecting that cameras were installed at home because, well, how could he pick the moment so clearly again? Heizou recorded a voice message saying that he being a little late, but not much for a long time because there was one final scene left to finish. After sending a video message from the set, he himself stands in front of the mirror and winks and shows a smiling heart. You involuntarily blushed while smiling. How handsome he is in the chosen image for the clip.

" - I'll be a little late, but don't miss me too much there. I will be going home soon, it remains to finish the last scene. So, as soon as I get home, get ready, tomorrow is the day off, so tonight I won't let you fall asleep, I have big plans to show how much I love you and I'm going to pamper you so that you forget even your name~".

You were sitting all red, thinking what a sly fox and impudent he is. But you was looking forward to his return home, knowing that Heizou would definitely fulfill his promise.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

@ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍʏ-ᴍᴏᴏɴ-ᴄᴀᴛ • ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪꜱᴇ, ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ! ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ ~ ♡

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lumitoiile · 4 months ago

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venti : [intoxicated.]

summary + tw : argument aftermath, suggested alcohol use; you finally confront him about his drinking problem. slight reverse comfort, angst if you squint, making up. gn! reader (no pronouns.) ╱ word count : 1.5k.

⤷ ꒰★꒱ requested by : @i-am-a-hot-man.

you've been losing your mind ever since he stormed out.

perhaps it's a little silly of you to be worrying this much. after all, it's never been particularly unusual for him to disappear after an argument. he's a free spirit, coming and going like the wind, flitting wherever his whims decide to take him. but, then again...he's never been gone for this long before.

three days. three days with no word, not even a clue as to where he might have gone. you've scoured his usual haunts—angels share, the statue of barbatos, even windrise... but there's no sign of him anywhere. no traces he left behind. the quiet stretches unbearably thin in his absence, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.

and your guilt.

the feeling rears its head the moment your mind drifts back to the argument, clawing at you restlessly. you'd only wanted to help, to make him understand that his habits were worrying you. but somewhere along the way, your words must have cut too deep.

the evening had started quietly enough. he had come home mid-afternoon, cheeks flushed and his signature giggle carrying an all too familiar slur.

"venti," you had begun, trying to keep your tone light. "how much have you had to drink?

he waved a hand lazily, plucking the strings of his lyre with no tune in mind. "hehe, not much... just enough to keep things fun! lighten up, yeah?"

your brows furrowed, and the faint tension in your chest only grew tighter. "i thought we'd agreed you'd try to cut back."

"and i have!" he quipped, his grin so carefree it bordered on infuriating. "why, i've only had... hmm. maybe six glasses?"

"six," you'd repeated, patience growing thinner. "venti, this is the third time this week. do you know how worried i get when you disappear for hours on end, only to come home like this?"

his laughter faltered, even if only for a moment. "worried? pfft, there's no need to worry about me! i'm perfectly fine."

"except you're not," you insisted, voice soft but firm. "you're clearly anything but fine. you disappear, drown yourself in wine, and never tell me why."

something on his face flickered at that. something raw and unguarded. but he quickly masked it with another chuckle, letting out a string of giggles. "come onnn... you're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"because it is a big deal!" the words had tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, the frustration starting to spill over. "not only does this obviously affect you, but do you even care about how it makes me feel? how hard it is to watch you get like this and not know what to do?"

venti stilled, his fingers tightening around the neck of his lyre. for a moment, you thought he might actually say something. something real, something honest. but then he stood, his gaze flickering toward the door.

"i didn't come here for a lecture," he muttered, voice coated with a sharpness you'd never heard from him before.

"wait—" you started to call out for him, but he was already moving, already leaving. he stormed out and shut the door with a soft click, echoing like a thunderclap in the silence he left behind.

and now it's been days since you last spoke. you've been waiting anxiously for him, watching the clock hands as the hours pass by, unable to shake the argument from your memory. he's always been quick to disappear after a dispute, his wanderer's heart leading him away from confrontation.

but still, you worry. how could you not? venti may be an eccentric free thinker, but he's also deeply sensitive, even if he hides it behind playful smiles and poetic musings. you saw the way his eyes flashed with hurt, the way he stiffened and froze up at what you had said. it's not just his absence that weighs on you; it's the thought of where his mind might have strayed in the time he's been away.

it's only when the third evening descends that you finally hear it. the faint, uneven creak of the front door swinging open. the hesitant patter of familiar footsteps.

your breath catches, and you nearly trip over yourself as you rush to the entryway. and when you see him standing there, you all but freeze in your tracks.

venti stands against the structure of the door, framed by the soft amber hues of twilight. his usual playful demeanor is nowhere to be seen. instead he looks... exhausted. his clothes are disheveled, hair tousled by the relentless wind, and there's a hollow look in his seafoam eyes. he grips his lyre loosely by his side, strings still and lifeless; a reflection of the bard himself.

"venti," you breathe, voice trembling. relief surges through you, but so does a sting of anger and hurt.

"...im home," he says quietly, but his voice cracks on the last word, betraying the stoicism he'd been trying to maintain.

you take a tentative step forward, unsure whether to embrace him or demand an explanation. but before you can decide, his knees buckle, and you spare no time in lunging forward to catch him. his weight collapses against you, his head finding shelter against your shoulder.

"you've been gone for three days," you whisper. there's an edge in your voice he isn't used to.

"i know."

"you can't just leave like that."

"i know."

"do you have any idea how worr—"

"i know," he blurts, voice muffled against your skin as he hurries the words out. "i...im sorry. i thought—i thought some time away would help, that maybe i could clear my head, but really i just... i couldn't face you."

you only let out a sigh, guiding him to the sofa and gently urging him to sit as you kneel by his side. he doesn't resist. instead, he clutches his lyre to his chest, as if it's the only shield he has left.

he lets out a shaky breath, gaze falling to the floor. "i messed up," he says. "i always do, don't i? i drink too much, i laugh too loud, i push too far... and whenever you bring it up, i run instead of fixing it."

your expression softens, but the soft ache in your chest doesn't fade. "venti," you whisper, eyes locked on the way his fingers curl tighter around his lyre. "you haven't ruined anything. im upset because you left for three days with no warning. you could have left a letter, a sign, something to tell me if you were okay or not."

he exhales shakily, forcing out a breathless, half-hearted laugh. "i didn't mean to make you worry so much. i just—" he swallows hard. "it's... strange."

"what is?" you ask, tilting your head.

"ive never had a place to come home to before," he admits, voice low and barely a whisper. "not really. not with walls and warmth and someone waiting on the other side of the door. i've always just... wandered, went along wherever the wind took me. and for a long time, that was fine."

the bard's hands tremble against the lyre, so slight you almost don't notice. "but now there's you. and suddenly, im not used to the idea of someone worrying about where i go or what i do. caring when i disappear, it's..." he hesitates before finally meeting your gaze, eyes glassy. "it's all so new. it kind of terrifies me."

your heart twists at his admission. the hardship he carries isn't just in his drinking, but in his avoidance; it's in the way he's convinced himself that he doesn't deserve the care you offer so freely.

he lets out a weak chuckle. "i guess part of me thought it'd be easier if i just... ran. that maybe if i left first, i wouldn't have to deal with what it means to be cared for like this." he stops, voice wavering. "but all it did was remind me that i don't want to be without you."

all the air leaves your lungs. in that moment, any lingering frustration melts away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming understanding.

slowly, carefully, you reach out, prying his hand free from his lyre so you can lace your hands together. he nearly shudders at the touch. "you don't have to run," you tell him gently, giving his fingers a squeeze. "i just want to understand you, venti. i want to be there for you. but i can't do that if you keep shutting me out."

his gaze flickers with something vulnerable, and with another breathless laugh, he squeezes your hand back. "i know. i'll try," he says, voice uncharacteristically fragile. "i promise you, i will."

you smile, relief flooding your core. "good."

and as the last of the evening light filters through the window, the archon exhales, silently resting his forehead against yours. he's all but discarded his lyre, and his grip on your hand is firm. he doesn't have all the answers. he's still scared. but this? this feels like a start.

for once in all his years, he doesn't want to run.

#sigh #i hate this fucking twink #venti #venti x reader #genshin #genshin impact #comfort #sfw #drabbles #oneshots #fanfiction #gn #gender neutral #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader #request #barbatos #mondstadt

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seraphswings · 2 years ago

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Poor thing can't sleep without you. He has to have you by his side on the bed, whether you want to or not. He can't sleep without your warmth. He'll continue to beg with puppy eyes, begging you to just come to be with him. How can you deny him? It's not like it's anything bad...

Fucking god you can't even move an inch from him when he's resting his head on your chest, having his arm wrapped snuggly around you. All you can do his run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp while hoping that you can sleep with this big of a man is sleeping on you.

—— VENTI, KAEYA, diluc, CHILDE, xiao, THOMA, ayato, ITTO, kazuha, HEIZOU, KAVEH, cyno, tighnari, LYNEY, NEUVILLETE, wriothesley

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aritsukemo · 9 months ago

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I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the galaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flattered, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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DAY 2 — CUNNILINGUS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — heizou, venti, scaramouche, xiao

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, oral (fem! receiving), face sitting, fingering, really messy just how we like it <3, feral anemo boys who tease you but are so damn in love with you

𖧡 — HEIZOU

heizou watches you writhe under him as he kisses your clit, it's piercing, and he swiftly sheds his shirt before taking more action, yet the renowned detective works unhurriedly and oh, it drives you insane, his ability to make you both frustrated yet also lust and open for him had your blood boil through your veins— and each button he'd undo of his shirt, so painfully slow, it's wonderful when it reveals more of him, his milky, flawless skin showing off his chest.

you lick your lips, closing your eyes, noticing a low, continued knock in the pit of your stomach when he slants his face into your cunt again. you taste the desire pressuring your sex, a hot blaze bristling inside your doused core as heizou sinks his tongue on your hole, licking up a long, slow glide from bottom to top, the taste of you so delightful, he feels himself become hard just from the mere connection of your slick settling heavy on his muscle, clinging onto him and tasting slightly bitter on his tongue.

and well, his tight pants, so bothersome, seem tighter and all the more bothersome in a sudden glimpse down, his thudding erection beginning to press and rub against the mattress and oh, you see how he was slowly beginning to hump the bed, secondary to buckling his tongue over your folds, your liquids making his mouth water and more craving, more desiring. heizou was passionate about eating you out and fulfilling your needs, obsessed with having you rut your hips into his mouth until you're cumming all over, driven by the thought of pleasing his darling until you're writhing and shaking underneath his scorching handle.

low moans split from your mouth as you look down on your boyfriend having his amorous eyes set on you, with that damned smirk on his smooth lips again, fingers grasping desperately at your thighs as you arch your back off the mattress, slanting your head back against the pillows as each and every flick of heizou's feverish, fast tongue, rattles fiery sparks of bliss inside your bones.

𖧡 — VENTI

you're just so hard to resist, venti thinks, it makes him push his groin into his palm whenever he sees you gleefully sway around diluc's tavern— all confident and almost, shameless, as if you were making sure he's getting a real good look on you, so he could imagine himself fucking you afterwards, in his dreams at least, or that's what you originally intended to induce on him.

but without delay, in your present dilemma, you could doubtlessly smack yourself against the head— the reason you ask? a simple one although quite troublesome. your, for the most part, strong willpower in resisting the anemo archon, had slowly but surely faded away and left behind your rational thinking skills to fight alone that now— you were right underneath his unbearably hot trace, your pretty tits being graciously fondled with while venti shamelessly moans into your pussy, striking his tongue against your hole like a sweltering surge taking you captive, outbreaking a spreading swell inside the pit of your stomach before inserting the skilled muscle inside, fucking his tip in and out of your pussy.

barbatos likes what he sees, especially what he hears, with your gasps having now reached a higher pitch and tune, most importantly the second he wiggles his head from left to right to capture your slick on well, on his whole face— do not misunderstand, he doesn't believe he's done a most adequate job if not before you're claiming his cheeks and chin, let alone his throat and mind with your gummed liquids clinging on his flesh.

you're jerking your hips into his mouth, head spinning and in need of fresh oxygen, "v-venti... archons.." and his fast suckles continue to nurture the knot in your stomach as you close your eyes due to exhaustion, your hole clamping down around his tongue as best as possible, bordering on feeling the impending orgasm flourish on your skin.

but the man suddenly cocks a brow at you, stilling his lips on your pussy, just for a second, "archons?" he laughs with a mocking tune hidden behind his wording, full of jest, in a shade like gravel, his fingers pressing themselves into the fat of your thighs before kissing your clit, breezing down and glissading his tongue on your folds, adding yet another kiss of adoration, whilst ending it right above your tight hole.

in shock, you suck in your breath through braced teeth when venti suddenly decides to pull a finger inside your little hole flickering around the slender digit, "hey.. it's okay." he coos, biting his lip, "your archon, *barbatos*, takes care of you." and your eyes swiftly flare down at him— how desperately you craved to rub that smirk off his face, whilst also regretting moaning out your words from earlier.

stirring and feeling the heaviness of a finger, or the sound of his digit meeting and bulking deep inside, on top of that being "punished" with wet, sloppy sucks of venti occupying your clit, each of his special kisses trash your body to a new faculty of discovering a sharpness to your active pleasure— it's too much and too late now, everything he inflicted on you made you open up a lot more.

therefore, what else was there really to be expected from the so called god of anemo?

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

between one second and the next, you climb on top of scaramouche, to be specific, on his darling face that was anticipating for you to sit down on him— above all, whenever he needed your thighs to wholly engulf his head, kuni tells you to sit down with your flesh sticking onto him, so he could taste you, fundamentally jerk and lurch his tongue on each specific flutter of your warm, wet pussy.

he makes a low, thoughtful noise before helping you lower yourself on him, licking his lips in eagerness, alighting his hands on top of your trembling thighs. your throat was tied with need and the expectation of him to start pleasing you, just like he always did, your whole body vibrating the very moment he pries his tongue against your folds.

his eyes— half lidded, focused on you, and scaramouche notices a spark of proudness housing in his chest when you throw your head back because of him, your fingers instantly searching for his silken hair to keep him squished close against you.

scaramouche was shameless, groaning and pummeling your pussy against his face just how he wanted, no, desired it. it's both terribly sweet and blisteringly hot when he hollows his cheeks to suck on your clit and feel how it's becoming more swollen, in combination with his slender hands touching up and down your chest, immediately finding your exposed tits— whilst your eyes fall at the touch, captivated, to where his palms fondle your breasts and hungrily feel up the mounds, his digits being stretched so tightly against the entire skin that you're feeling how your cunt was turning hypersensitive, sobbing uncontrollably with a light coating of sweat on your forehead becoming visible.

faster and faster, you gloss your swelled pussy against his tongue, though you know him so well and he keeps your hips in place, demonstrating how it's really done, hard and fast, pushing your core back and forth his lips before swiftly pulling you away— just for a second, to collect his breath while you're looming over him all panting with your heart thudding fast under your ribcage, engraving his expression in your clouded psyche, his flustered cheeks evolving in a delicate pink blush, sweat and your lubricants snugged on his skin as he watches you through low, desiring eyes.

"don't hold back." he almost whispers his utters out to you, but the strong, dominant color of his voice was present, holding you hostage, "it feels good, right?" he asks now, the huffs of his breath on you, warm and humid, touching your inflamed pussy and having you sob out at the loss of contact, the immediate craving to have his tongue back on you.

"it does.. it feels so good."

you bite back a moan when he places a kiss on your cunt, and whine out the very words he wanted to make you say out loud, the very ones he needed to listen to before he was able to actually continue and have you cum on his tongue.

you say, "i won't hold back— i promise." and slowly, the heat was growing in your belly and expanding when scaramouche clicks his tongue at your words, but he nods right afterwards, humming before licking a heavy, straight line inside your folds again.

"you better keep your promise." he mumbles out, barely perceivable if not for the vibrations on your sex having you twitch your body together, almost crumbling right above him, yet not now, scaramouche thinks— you will cum soon enough, and if you didn't know any better his previous words sounded like a threat, but for that, there wasn't much time to think about it, nor did you really care, because in this night, your hips couldn't stop aching and moving strongly on his face, whilst scaramouche drags your cunt against his mouth, gulping out raggedly for air.

𖧡 — XIAO

there was never one way or the other with adeptus xiao, because the way he saw it, he had to use it both at the same time— well, by that, he means that while having his long, slick fingers knuckles deep inside your little hole, stretching you in ways you had long since forgotten as his lips are tightly sealed on your clit.

the sounds of his tongue sliding over and under your wet pussy was exhilarating, the visual perception of it alone, xiao taking your cunt in his hot mouth, owning you with his slippy muscle and assuring himself you're having the fathomless pleasure inscribed in your trembling frame, for decades on end.

you swallow shakily, cupping a hand behind xiao's head as you cry out at the intensity, it's utterly unreal— and the pleasure almost vaults out of your body and mind by how he's darting his tongue along the fat of your folds before suckling down harshly, adding another finger all of a sudden, making it two in total, listening to you hiccuping out blissfully as a strong jolt of bliss roars through your entire skin, setting your body aflame.

xiao sees no reason as to waste more time then, slipping his hot mouth against the entire nerve bundles of your silken pussy before curling his fingers up, sucking on your clit just right— suddenly having a sneaky idea greet him; he starts grazing at the skin, only distantly, obviously he was aware on how sensitive you were down there, yet the man glances up at you when he feels how light pain fizzes through your aching core, bristling into parts of bottomless shocks of pleasure like electrical charges, your eyes glassy and red at the edges of your half-closed vision.

you lose your cool, working your pretty hips against your boyfriends mouth as he groans into your pussy, "xiao, baby.. please!" and he knows what you demanded, wanted, keeping his focus on your clit, massaging it, moving the two fingers, now three, working fast but intently until he could perceive your little hole clamp down on him— noticing how your chest was moving up and down in a rhythm of short breaths, realizing that you're teetering on the edge of cumming, while it was him who had the authority to grand you your ever so sought after, anticipated wishes.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #heizou x reader #venti x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #heizou smut #venti smut #xiao smut #scaramouche smut #genshin drabbles #kinktober #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons

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lijojo · 2 years ago

Text

genshin men sleeping habits

premise: in the early glows of the morning, you wake up in the vice grip of your lover. while it’s very heartwarming, you need to go to work. how does he convince you to stay in bed with him a little longer?

tw: suggestive for the last one

pretends to be asleep but doesn’t let up with his fucking grip regardless

you’ve. tried. everything. you tried nudging him awake, even gave him a couple kisses, but he doesn’t let up. instead, he groans and flips over, taking you along with him. you yelp, unable to brace for impact as you’re suddenly on your side.

he shuffles a bit, wrapping his legs around you a little tighter (if that was even possible). he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. he sighs, content.

after minutes of effort, you decide to relinquish any hopes of waking him up.

“i give up,” you say. “you win. a little longer won’t hurt, right?”

you get no response. but you don’t really need one anyway.

he’s not a very good pretender, with the way his lips can’t help but break out into a little triumphant smile.

alhaitham, kaeya, kaveh, childe, tighnari, thoma, zhongli, diluc, ayato, venti, baizhu, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao

he ambushes you when you least expect it

after many attempts to squeeze out of his hold, you’re successful. out of breath, maybe, but at least you gained the ability to finally roll out of bed and start the day.

sitting up, you give one last glance to your lover. the way his chest rises and falls so rhythmically. the peaceful look on his face. the way he squints when the sunlight hits his eyes. how his hands unconsciously look for you again. you almost feel bad.

that is, until you take one—maybe two, if he’s feeling generous—steps away from the bed. without any kind of sign, signal, or warning, he launches out of bed. he lunges at you like a ravenous wolf, wrapping his arms around your waist and hauling you back to bed with great force. he huffs when you land on his chest, but he’s quick to recover.

he wraps his arms around your shoulders, locking you in with his legs. “you’re not leaving me.”

you can’t help the grin spreading across your lips as you squirm. “let me go. i’m going to be late—”

he retaliates by peppering your neck with chaste kisses. “nuh uh. yo can’t leave me. my heart won’t allow it.”

you can’t even turn to face him. “honey, if you don’t let me go, next time i’m going to burn your breakfast.”

“uh huh.”

“i’ll steal all your favorite clothes and hide them,” you threaten.

“please do. i’m sure you’ll love my birthday suit,” he quips back.

“and i’m going to use all the hot water.”

“we can always shower together.”

“i’ll—”

“do you’re worst. i can take it,” he teases. “i’m still not letting you go. i chose you, i’m going to keep you ‘til the end of time. forever!”

with that, he presses sloppery kisses all over your face despite your protests that he needs to brush his teeth. even so, you can’t help but feel as if staying for five minutes more might not be so bad.

kaeya, kaveh, childe, thoma, venti, itto, heizou, ayato

“assures” you that getting ready doesn’t take as long as you know it does

“what if i did your hair and makeup for you?” he muses, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

you scoff playfully. “do you even know my makeup routine?”

“it can’t be as complicated as mine. oh! you could eat breakfast while i button up your clothes for you.”

his offer gets a laugh out of you. “we both know you’re not going to finish buttoning it up.”

“hm? whatever do you mean?” his hands drag down your waist to your hips, tracing slow circles. “you don’t trust me to put your clothes on for you?”

“i don’t think they’ll stay on, that’s the problem,” you say, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “you know how you get in the morning.”

“do i? how about you remind me? my little friend could use some help waking up—”

you give him a look of warning, to which he groans. “fine, fine.”

with that, he’s left you in silence, absentmindedly petting your head. he closes his eyes.

...

“if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going drop kick you.”

he huffs. “don’t rush your genius boyfriend. what if i brushed your teeth while you brushed your hair? as they say, teamwork makes the dream work.”

you furrow your brows. “wouldn’t you get toothpaste on my shirt?”

“how about the other way around?”

you smile. “hmm... i like the sound of that.”

he smiles back, pressing a kiss to your nose. “well okay then. five more minutes it is then.”

you snuggle into his embrace, knowing very that he just spent the last five minutes trying to convince you to stay for five minutes more.

gorou, childe, heizou, cyno, ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, itto, kazuha, tighnari, venti, albedo

he suggests the two of you go for round two

he puts on a mischievous little grin, one you know is up to no good. “what if we ‘slept’ a little more and you called in sick?”

his hand crawls down to your inner thigh, tracing teasing circles. “you’d be too sore to go to work anyways...you need to take care of yourself. what would your boss say if she saw you walking with a limp. hm? what do you say?”

you scoff at that. “i don’t think the solution you’re thinking of is going to help that.”

he purses his lips, as if in deep contemplation. with his free hand, he grips your hips a little tighter to pull you back towards him. you stiffen in surprise at something hard pressing against the curve of your ass. his morning wood twitches. “are you sure? maybe you’re sore because you haven’t done the proper stretches yet. luckily for you, your precious boyfriend knows a couple ways to get your hamstrings all loosened up. i could draw us a bath after... turn on some music... maybe go again? doesn’t that sound good?”

you chuckle. “you’re impossible.”

he presses a soft, open-mouth kiss to the crook of your neck. “only with you, love.”

scaramouche, kaeya, ayato, childe, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

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mayullla · 1 year ago

Note

🥀🐝 can i have a soft yandere venti please? thank you!

Title: Cupid's Lover

Character(s): Venti (Genshin Impact) Warnings/tags: Greek mythology-inspired (Cupid), love potion, "consensual" at first but later more dubious, "mutual" love (toxic relationship), Yandere Venti x Yandereish reader

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

Venti always adores the day of couples as a cupid. He would go out looking after the couples that hold hands and watching those who confess their love to the person they had feelings for. The day is filled with flowers, roses, pink and red cards, presents, and chocolates.

Venti had always been a huge fan of liquor chocolates. In exchange for taking them from the shop, he would make sure the cashier would find love that day or, if they were already married, create a memory between their partner that they would never forget.

While taking a swig from the champagne bottle (it was a special occasion, of course, a special day!), Venti would look for those who needed a little more love in the day. He flew high in the sky, holding a bow in one hand and love arrows in a leather bag strapped to his waist.

He aimed at those who had potential, firing arrows that caused love at first sight or maybe a meet-cute to happen as he watched his victims become flustered between themselves. Whether something happens, though, was up to them.

Venti's arrows were never potent. They never forcefully caused someone to fall in in love. Rather than love at first sight, it was more of an attraction towards the person, a potential that one could give a chance to. Venti never drenched his arrows with the love potion like fountain water, instead letting them touch only the tips of the arrowhead.

Venti was never fond of the idea of forceful love. He wanted to push humans a little, but if they chose to do nothing, he would never force it on them. It was their freedom to choose, and that was his thought. If nothing happened, then there was always another chance later on for that person to find love.

Venti had always been so fond of Valentine's Day, not only because it was the day of love but also because it was an anniversary.

As the day passed, he watched as others finally returned indoors, whether it was to their own homes or their lovers. It was also his time to leave after aiming a few more arrows toward those lonely on the streets. He flew to the clouds where his home was,

where his special mortal lover was.

Floating down to the clouds, he opened the door and sang your name. Nicknames flew out of his mouth as he sang poems and songs about your love for each other. Laughter he heard as his face was held by soft hands, a soft greeting, and then soft lips on his.

Venti's eyes were open, looking at yours, filled with pink and love towards the person who looked back at him just as obsessively. Holding your waist, pulling you closer to him and deeper into this insanity, letting you indulge yourself in his love.

He was the one who fell in love with you first, a love at first sight, but you were the one who fell harder. It was a consensual love. Venti was a little obsessive sometimes, yet you didn't seem to care; rather, you took delight in it more than anything. His love and his obsession were yours, and your love and time were his.

To the world, it was obvious that the two of you were so in love with each other and that nobody could stand in your way. Venti asked to be with you forever, and the world gave him the permission, turning you into a demi-human, one who would not die, who would not age, nor grow sick. You would die the moment he did, yet a lot argued the point that even without it, both of you would rather die than live in a world without the other.

"My love, I miss you so much," Venti whined, holding you tighter, and you chuckled in his arms, holding his body against yours just as tightly. Venti watched you nuzzle yourself into his neck as if craving for his touch after so long, even though he left only this morning. You could not stand to be apart from him, and as time flew, the more and more you craved him.

You could think of nothing else but him, nothing more than his love, his approval, and his touches. You did everything he would ask, waiting for your rewards whenever you were finished, and would become mad when you were apart from him, even if you knew where he left too. You could not handle the loneliness away from him, and nobody else could help you either. Moments he was gone, you would sometimes throw yourself into cleaning and cooking. Venti even gave you a little garden for you to handle when he was gone, yet the emptiness in your heart was difficult to contain.

You wanted nothing else but to be close to him.

Did you know, angel, that today is our anniversary?" Venti said as you looked at him with doe eyes, recognizing his words. Love and lust deepened in your eyes at the implications.

"Here it is!" Venti showed, a childish grin on his lips as he awkwardly placed the potion between you. His face turned red as he watched yours looking and craving that very potion, the very water that had caused you to become like this.

It was something that he had suggested long ago, a little lovers' ritual for your anniversary. In his arms, cuddling on the bed, he asked you with puppy dog eyes if you could drink the water from a certain fountain. You were surprised at his idea. Wanting to show you how amazing it was he sat up and told you about the fountain that could cause one to fall in love.

Before, even at your worst, you still lived and acted like a normal human. You had other small hobbies that you did while he was away, yet that all changed when the two of you started to drink that water. A cup he held out to you, another one in his other hand for himself. You took the cup and poured it down his lips and let him do the same, accepting the water into your body.

Both of you knew how this could turn into something bad, yet the two of you were so in love, so high in love that it didn't matter if the two of you fell even further.

A liquid escaped your lips, and Venti watched as your eyes became hazy, unable to focus on anything but him. Losing all your strength to even stand as you continued to look at him with nothing but love. Venti held you in his arms, so delighted that you accepted this. He could not be even happier than this.

The fountain wasn't meant to be consumed like that. If an arrow dripped in it, it was enough to cause someone to fall in love. It was not meant to be drunk in a goblet. While Venti would experience only little of the effects, you, even if you had become somewhat magical, were still a human. The water melted your mind, unable to think of anything but becoming a daze. Love would become an obsession, and if not filled every moment, it would leave an empty husk.

You could not think of anyone else but him, just as much as Venti could not think of anything else other than you.

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4barbatos · 12 days ago

Text

✦ dad!venti x mom!reader drabbles

— fluff + crack .ᐟ

a/n: aaaaa i enjoyed writing this so much TT one of the drabbles is actually based on a request from one of u guys (ILY!!!) but the prompts wouldn’t leave me alone. they just kept bouncing around in my brain like “write me. write me.” and i folded immediately.

i don’t think this’ll be the last time i write about this version of venti because oh my GOD. dad(dy) venti brainrot has me in a chokehold. like. help. might spiral and write a whole mini-series if y’all let me 😵‍💫

also this one’s in a modern setting !! but still has some genshin themes — like venti still being an archon bc i am not letting go of that man’s godhood LMAO. timeline?? logic?? never heard of her. anyway sorry if this is messy my brain is fried 💔

thank u for the love, the requests, and the patience <3 u guys keep me inspired even when life (school) is body slamming me in the face.

freshly delivered betrayal

you were exhausted.

sweaty, sore, shaking from adrenaline, body still catching up to the fact that you’d just given birth. the world was still a little fuzzy at the edges when the nurse gently placed your newborn on your chest, tiny and warm and squirmy.

your breath hitched. tears welled in your eyes as you looked down at him —

and then you blinked.

paused.

frowned.

“…why the fuck are his eyes glowing.”

“venti,” you said slowly, voice flat, “why are his eyes glowing.”

across the room, venti was openly sobbing into an anemo slime plush he’d brought in “for emotional support.” he sniffled dramatically, cheeks shiny with tears.

“he’s so beautiful 🥺”

“THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER.”

you tilted your newborn slightly toward him, finger jabbing gently at your son’s face.

“his irises are literally glowing. bioluminescent. mint green. sparkling. like a lantern. what did you do.”

venti tiptoed over like a guilty dog caught chewing the curtains.

“he just… looks a little like me, that’s all—”

“a little??”

you looked back down at the baby.

same eye shape. same impossibly long lashes. same little button nose. same stupid smug smile that somehow managed to exist on a minutes-old infant.

he blinked up at you slowly, glowing eyes twinkling like he already knew something you didn’t.

“oh my god,” you muttered, head thudding back against the pillow. “i suffered through nine months of nausea and joint pain and demonic pregnancy cravings just for this child to come out looking like your tiny clone.”

venti practically preened. “right??? he’s perfect. he’s a masterpiece. he’s my greatest song come to life—”

“no. no poetry. not while he’s still steaming fresh from the womb.”

the baby yawned.

a breeze gently rustled the ends of your hair.

“did he just—” you turned slowly to look at venti.

“minor atmospheric shift,” he said with a dreamy smile. “nothing dangerous. probably.”

you closed your eyes in defeat.

“i need him to wear contacts immediately.”

milk crimes

you were half-asleep on the couch, baby snoozing peacefully on your chest, when venti tiptoed in with the most suspicious expression known to man.

his eyes darted around like he was about to commit a federal offense.

you cracked one eye open. “…what are you doing.”

“nothing,” he said way too fast. “just checking on my beautiful wife and her beautiful child and her…” his gaze dropped an inch lower. “beautiful… assets.”

you gave him the look.

he smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “you look full.”

“i am.”

“painful?”

“not really,” you muttered, adjusting your shirt. “just heavy.”

he plopped down beside you, hands neatly folded in his lap. “i could help.”

you squinted. “you mean like—”

“to relieve you,” he said, putting on his innocent bard voice. “out of love. and generosity. and public service.”

“venti.”

“just a few sips—”

“venti.”

“i promise to burp afterwards.”

“GET. OUT.”

he ducked your throw pillow like a pro and grinned as he scampered away.

“the offer stands!!”

you sighed and looked down at your baby.

“don’t grow up weird like your dad,” you whispered.

‘ho’ly baby

the thing about having a baby is you hear a lot of nonsense.

gurgles. squeals. high-pitched shrieks. the occasional babble that sounds dangerously close to profanity. you’ve learned to tune most of it out — smile, nod, survive — until today.

“ho,” your baby says, looking you dead in the eye.

you blink. slowly. “…what did you just call me?”

venti, traitor of all traitors, gasps like he’s been struck by celestia itself.

“OH ARCHONS—”

he’s on the floor. sobbing. wheezing. clutching his stomach like he’s been impaled by a divine spear. the baby giggles. claps his chubby hands and says it again — “ho!” — and venti actually screams.

you stare in horror. “maybe he meant hello—”

“HE’S A GENIUS,” venti howls, now fully writhing. “MY SON’S FIRST WORD WAS HO.”

you’re half tempted to throw a throw pillow at his face. maybe a lamp. maybe the baby.

you scoop your son into your arms. “no. no. we say mama. not… ho.”

he blinks at you. pure innocence. then opens his tiny mouth and goes:

“ho.”

venti lets out a sound that can only be described as feral wind-chime laughter. he’s howling so hard the picture frames are rattling. you’re genuinely concerned he might pass out from joy.

(it took hours to calm everyone down.)

that night, while rocking the baby to sleep, he mumbles something against your collarbone — soft and slow and sleepy.

“dada.”

you freeze. slowly turn your head to where venti is standing, slack-jawed in the doorway.

he floats two inches off the ground for the rest of the week.

you need a nap. and a new baby. one that doesn’t already have his father’s entire personality copy-pasted into his dna.

childless hours

“can you hear that…”

venti murmured from his perch on the kitchen counter, one leg swinging idly as he tilted his head like a curious little bird.

you froze mid-step, blinking at him from the hallway.

“…hear what?”

he closed his eyes dramatically.

“…nothing.”

you furrowed your brows.

“…oh.”

nothing. no crying. no cartoons. no rattling toys or lullabies from the baby monitor. just… silence.

venti cracked one eye open and grinned at your expression.

“we could literally do anything.”

you raised a brow.

“anything?”

“nap,” he said, counting on his fingers. “eat snacks without hiding. walk around naked. have sex in the kitchen—”

“venti.”

“what? i’m brainstorming.” he slid off the counter, walking over with a cheeky little bounce in his step. “you’re the one who said anything.”

you sighed, already feeling your resolve slipping under the weight of his grin.

“we were gonna clean out the closet.”

“the closet will still be there,” he said sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “but this silence? this glorious, blessed silence? she may never return…”

you squinted at him. “you’re so dramatic.”

“and yet…” he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, “you’re still about to get on the table.”

your mouth twitched. he was right.

“…fine,” you muttered, hands already sliding up his shirt. “i’m getting on the table.”

venti beamed, practically vibrating.

“best day ever.”

first day blues

you tried everything. his favorite outfit (the one with little anemo swirl patches). his lunchbox packed with windwheel apple slices and star-shaped cookies. even the “you’re so brave” speech — the one that usually worked during dentist appointments and dark rooms.

but your son was currently a sobbing mess in the living room, face smushed into your shoulder, tiny fists clutching your hoodie like he’d never let go.

“but mamaaaaa i don’t wanna go to schoo— 😭😭😭”

you hadn’t even had coffee yet. your back hurt. and your heart? obliterated.

venti knelt beside you, trying his best to help without crying himself.

“don’t you wanna make new friends? show them your wind trick?”

“NO.”

“what if you bring mr. bard bear with you? he’s brave, right?”

“NOOOO!!!”

venti glanced at you helplessly, and you gave him the go ahead, bring out the big guns nod.

he leaned in, voice gentle.

“what if i give you one of mama’s special cookies?”

your son sniffled.

“…two?”

he paused.

venti gasped, clutching his chest.

“negotiator… just like his dada…”

somehow — somehow — you managed to peel him off your chest, bribe him into the car, and drop him off in his new classroom. you watched through the glass window as he sat at the tiny desk, eyes still watery but clutching mr. bard bear like a battle buddy.

you and venti didn’t even speak on the walk back to the car. it wasn’t until you both sat down and the silence settled that it hit.

“this is bad,”

you whispered, staring straight ahead.

venti looked pale.

“i think i’m gonna puke.”

“i miss my babyboy,”

you sobbed, dragging your hoodie sleeve across your cheek.

“i wanna go back and steal him.”

“we should’ve homeschooled.”

“we don’t even know math.”

“i’ll learn it!! for him!!”

you ended up crying in the car together for twenty minutes — full-on emotional meltdown, heads pressed together, tears blending. you probably looked feral to anyone walking by.

eventually, his teacher came outside with a small smile and a thumbs-up.

“he’s doing great,” she said gently. “he made a friend already. and he shared his cookies.”

venti sniffled.

you clutched his hand.

“our boy is so brave,” you whispered.

venti wiped his face. “we did so good.”

sick day cyclone

you were hoping it was just allergies.

it had to be allergies.

but then your baby sniffled, sneezed — and the entire living room turned into a category five wind cyclone.

“OH MY GOD, NOT AGAIN—”

you yelled, ducking just in time as a baby sock flew past your head and slapped itself to the wall like it had a vendetta.

the baby giggled. another sneeze. the curtain rod snapped in half.

venti came sprinting into the chaos, towel slung around his waist, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth like a war whistle. his hair was dripping. his eyes took in the scene.

“…is the baby sneezing cyclones again?”

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE HE’S NOT?”

your toddler hiccuped — and summoned a tiny tornado that sucked up three pacifiers, a juice box, and one of your houseplants. the couch moved. you were gripping the baby gate like it was a lifeboat.

venti calmly walked into the storm, scooped the baby into his arms mid-gale, and swaddled him into a blanket burrito like a seasoned wind mage dad.

“poor little stormcloud,” he said softly, brushing his fingers through wild curls. “guess we’re not going to daycare today.”

you stared at the overturned furniture. your hair was sticking up. your coffee was gone. the plant was rotating gently in the corner.

“…NO SHIT.”

daddy behavior

it started with a toy being thrown.

then the rug got flipped.

now there were three mini-tornadoes spinning around the living room like some kind of cursed carousel, and your child — your terrifying, smug little wind god of a child — was sitting in the center of it all like he was preparing to ascend to celestia.

you were on the couch. exhausted. defeated. trying to drink your coffee while your living room got obliterated.

venti walked in, towel around his neck, hair damp from a shower. he paused at the door, took one look at the absolute storm zone, and sighed like he aged ten years on the spot.

“enough.”

his voice was low. calm. but firm. like thunder muffled by clouds. not loud, not angry — just heavy.

the wind dropped instantly.

your son froze mid-giggle, eyes wide, like he’d just been personally called out by the anemo archon (which, technically, he had). one of the mini tornados fizzled mid-spin and dropped a throw pillow with a pathetic little thud.

venti stepped into the wreckage slowly. not mad — just serious. the kind of quiet that meant: you’ve gone too far, little guy.

“we don’t throw storms when we’re upset,” he said gently, crouching down in front of him. “you have your words. use them.”

your toddler looked up at him with the world’s tiniest pout.

“but i—”

“i know,” venti said, softening. “i know, baby. but it’s not safe. and mama is tired. do you see the mess?”

your son blinked. glanced around the room like he was just now realizing he may have caused a small-scale natural disaster. his mouth wobbled.

“…sowwy…”

venti opened his arms. “come here, little stormcloud.”

your son launched himself into his chest like a comet.

venti caught him, lifted him easily, held him close — pressing a soft kiss to his hair.

“no more tornados today, okay?”

“…mkay…”

then he looked at you over his shoulder, smiling with that sweet, windswept softness that made your knees weak.

“wind crisis averted,” he said.

you blinked.

you put your coffee down. very slowly.

“…don’t talk to me right now.”

venti blinked.

“huh? why?”

you fanned yourself with your hand, cheeks hot. sweating.

“because i’m extremely turned on and our child is right there.”

venti flushed red, nearly dropping your son.

“o-oh. i see. um. bedtime is in two hours—”

“i need you to stop talking immediately.”

archons help you.

caught in 4k (by a toddler)

you and venti were just sitting on the couch.

your son was asleep. the apartment was clean for once. and venti — lounging in a loose hoodie with messy curls and that lazy, lopsided smirk that practically begged to be kissed — looked good.

so you kissed him.

you were halfway into your fifth kiss — straddling his lap, fingers tangled in his hair, venti making those soft, whiny sighs he always did when he was losing his mind over you — when the bedroom door creaked open.

you both froze.

dead silence.

then came a very small, very confused voice from the hallway:

“mama… are you eating dada’s face?”

you screamed.

venti made an unholy choking sound.

you launched yourself off his lap like the guilty heathens you were, nearly knocking over a throw pillow in the process.

your toddler stood there, sleepy-eyed, holding his plushie by one ear like it had just seen horrors. he blinked slowly.

“…why were you sitting on his tummy?”

venti, still red-faced and dazed, whispered hoarsely,

“wind… take me now…”

you slapped a hand over your face.

“baby, it’s—we were just—”

“adult stuff,” venti croaked.

“yes,” you said quickly. “very boring adult stuff.”

your child tilted his head, still suspicious.

“like taxes?”

you and venti locked eyes.

“…sure,” you said.

he frowned. “i don’t like taxes.”

“same,” venti mumbled.

you sighed, got up, and scooped your son into your arms.

“okay, little stormcloud. back to bed.”

he nestled against your shoulder, yawning.

“mama… don’t eat dada again, okay? he looked scared.”

venti let out a small dying noise behind you.

you didn’t stop laughing for the next ten minutes.

three peas in a chaotic pod

sunday morning in the windblume household looked like this:

venti in an oversized hoodie, hair sticking out in all directions. you in mismatched pajamas and fuzzy socks. your son in the middle of the living room, wrapped in a blanket like a dramatic little burrito, yelling “I AM WORM” for no apparent reason.

“should we be concerned?”

you asked, sipping coffee from your world’s-best-mama mug.

venti was lying on the floor next to your son, chin propped on his hands.

“nah. this behavior builds character.”

“he’s been rolling around yelling for ten minutes.”

“ah, so you do see the family resemblance.”

you raised a brow. “you mean your family. i was a normal child.”

venti gasped. “a boring child, you mean.”

your toddler suddenly flopped over onto venti’s back and went,

“wiggle wiggle worm!!”

venti immediately started flailing in sync.

“AAAA HE’S TRANSFORMING—HE’S BECOME A SUPER WORM—”

you put your mug down and sighed, grinning.

“i married an archon. i gave birth to a demigod. and somehow, i’m still the only adult in this house.”

“technically i’m over two thousand years old,” venti said from the floor.

“and mentally seven.”

“mentally seven and a half, thank you.”

you rolled your eyes and dropped down beside them, gently tugging your son out of his burrito blanket and into your arms. he squealed and clung to you immediately.

venti rolled over and rested his head on your lap, letting out a soft, content sigh.

“best seat in the house.”

your son crawled up and squished himself between you both, tiny hands patting your cheeks.

“mama pretty. dada stinky.”

venti gasped. “you traitor.”

“i win,” you hummed.

you didn’t get much done that day — laundry was forgotten, dishes piled up, and your to-do list went untouched — but you did get exactly what you needed:

a full heart. a warm couch. and your two favorite people tangled up beside you, giggling like it was the only thing that mattered.

…because it was.

a/n: OMG i posted this without the actual part that was requested 😭 i think i accidentally deleted it while cutting a drabble last minute (congrats to the three people who saw it before it got removed LMAOOO). anyway !! the original request was from @astronomerzin tysm for putting this idea in my head 🙏 ily fr TT i had so much fun writing it and i’m definitely gonna do more dada venti x mama reader stuff soon heh <3

#venti x reader #venti x fem reader #venti x y/n #venti x you #venti fluff #venti crack #venti fics #venti imagines #venti brainrot #dad venti #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fics #more dad venti fics soon #probably #maybe #don’t quote me #i am unstable #isy drabbles 💌

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talia-black · 1 year ago

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RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

Mondstadt Boys

Nothing sexual is explicitly mentioned in this, only vaguely suggestive for Venti. For all of the younger characters it is strictly romantic. (And before you come at me in the comments, I went to high school. I’ve seen close romantic relationships between teenagers that never even verged on sexual and would never even consider writing an underaged character in such a light.)

This is also my first time making a post like this, so please be nice. Any advice is welcome since I’m still relatively new to Tumblr.

Kaeya-

Kaeya would never in a million years consider dating someone with serious romantic intentions, even if his feelings were fully reciprocated. His past, his secrets, his ties to so many dangerous factions would put them in immediate danger at all times, and if there’s one thing we know about Kaeya it's that he would do anything to protect the people he loves. Including breaking both his and their hearts in the process. But if he was free from all of that, Kaeya would love an SO who he could just relax around. Just be Kaeya instead of everything else. They would be his safe space, his only true home outside of Dawn Winery, and the true meaning of freedom for him.

What Kaeya didn’t know he wanted in a significant other was someone who could see past his masks instinctively. They never commented on his half-truths, his bluffs, his misdirections. But through the briefest of eye contact he knew that you knew exactly what he was doing. He comes back home in the early hours of the morning with bloody knuckles and open wounds, they are still up and bandages him while talking softly about whatever gossip had been hot on the market that morning.

Kaeya is flirtatious by nature, and his playboy attitude extends to them in public so many don’t think their relationship is that serious. But behind closed doors, with his heart open and gently placed in their hands, you would think they were divine in nature. They laughed at the attempts of other people to flirt with him, because they already knew that his heart belonged to them.

Diluc-

Much like Kaeya, Diluc knows he lives too dangerous a life to consider a romantic relationship. Unlike Kaeya though, he craves that connection just a little more fiercely than Kaeya. While Kaeya is constantly surrounded by the friendly comradery of the Knights, Diluc is far more isolated. Of course he has Adeline, Elzer, and the other workers at the Dawn Winery who’ve known him since he was a child, but he doesn’t share any close friendships that goes to on a regular basis. What Diluc knows he would want in an SO more than anything else is companionship. If he could afford to, he wouldn’t care where they’re from or what their background is if they were able to make him forget about his responsibilities for just a little bit. Someone he can come home to.

What Diluc didn’t know he wanted was someone who could help him repair his stunted relationships. Someone who invites Kaeya over for tea while they know he will be home and eventually coax both of the brothers to dig up five years worth of skeletons and come to a much better understanding. Someone who helps him at the bar after long days working in the vineyard, keeping an ear out for anything people might not otherwise let slip near the intimidating man. Above all else, Diluc did not know what he wanted was a true partner who was as dedicated to his own wellbeing as he was to theirs.

Diluc would not be showy about his affection beyond what was appropriate for a gentleman. Arm hooked around yours, hand against lower back, and maybe a quick peck on the lips if they had relative privacy. Back home though, this man is so touch-starved that he will be wrapped around his SO for as much time as possible. Playing chess? Too bad, they have to move their pieces while sitting on his side of the board. Reading a book? Someone’s head is in the other person’s lap. Sleeping? They only use a thin sheet because Diluc is a heater and plasters himself to his SO’s back and tucks them under his chin like a stuffed animal.

Venti-

Wow. You thought the previous two were traumatized? Venti has watched entire civilizations be wiped from remembrance at the whims of the Heavenly Principles and does everything in his power to make Monstadt seem like less of a threat in order to prevent the same thing from happening to him. Nearly all of his significant relationships have been ended by death or time, so the thought of having an SO, especially an immortal one, would terrify him. Contrary to popular thinking, I think Venti would want an SO who is mortal. 60-70 years of bliss, forever immortalized in song, and out of reach from the claws of the Heavenly Principles.

What Venti didn’t know he wanted was an SO who was an artist themselves. He was so used to being the performer, the one expected to entertain the audience with story and song. With just a little instruction (and maybe a blessing made on a bet) they were already able to rival Venti’s prowess with a lyre. It made quite the stir in Mondsadt, as Venti had been unmatched for years, and soon fan clubs were formed. Whether they were being shipped or slandered, there was none who could deny the inherent chemistry between Venti and his rival. In fact, there was no clear confirmation on their relationship until Venti drank nearly half of the Angel Share’s stock on a dare and kissed them full on the mouth. And even then the heated debate persisted. Until one day, they climbed on top of the church and belted out a serenade for all of Monstadt to hear before proposing to their “cheeky, bird-brained, bastard who also happens to be the love of their life”. Yeah, Venti may or may not have caused a mini hurricane to knock them off their feet so he could sweep them away to Starsnatch Cliff.

Venti is flirty, but after he starts seriously courting his SO he noticeably tones it down. Creative and blush-inducing complements to his audience were still common, but nothing truly improper. In private… he shared an ungodly amount of characteristics with those cats he’s allergic to. Spoiled with kisses and cuddles, demanding when he goes without their attention for more than a few minutes, and if they’re open to it, always ready for more exciting activities. Like stated previously, Venti doesn’t want his SO to be immortal. As much as their death will hurt, at least he was able to make sure that their short life ended peacefully and with a full heart. He will sing your songs and tell the tale of the two bards who had captured each other’s hearts. Besides, even he will return to the winds one day. And then will be able to reunite with them, and all of his old friends.

Razor-

Honestly, Razor’s concept of a romantic relationship between two humans is either completely nonexistent or radically underdeveloped. He’s seen wolves court and mate (Though Andrius keeps Razor away during mating season. Young pups should not witness such things) so I think that any kind of romantic action would just come off as heavily platonic or familial. He’s never thought about finding any sort of life-partner, all he wants is to protect his family, so whatever vague idea of an SO or “mate” Razor has would involve him taking care of them and being taken care of in turn.

What Razor didn’t suspect was that his SO would be so willing to be accepted into his Lupical. While he had friends like Bennett and Klee who were nice to him whenever they saw him around, but most people still tended to avoid Razor. It hurt a bit, but as long as Razor had his Lupical and his friends, he never gave anyone else much thought. Until one day, he found an adventurer freeing a wolf cub who had gotten its paw stuck in a hunting trap. Such traps should not have been so close to the wolves’ territory, and Razor found out later that they had come on a commission from the Knights to investigate. However, Razor noticed how in the process of freeing and bandaging the pup, they had torn open their hands. He had immediately gone looking for Wolfhook, and waited until night when they had fallen asleep to sneak in and apply the berry paste. He didn’t want to frighten them, and instead opted to watch over them while they slept. He fell asleep sometime during the early morning, and only awoke to the smell of meat cooking. He opened his eyes to see the adventurer watching him from the opposite side of the fire, a plate of berries and steaming meat set near him.

Razor was quickly enamored by the lone adventurer. They were a new recruit, and had actually heard of Razor from Katheryne when they accepted the commission. Over time, the adventurer ended up taking every opportunity possible to visit Razor. The boy’s excitement whenever he caught their scent on the wind never lessened, and both of them often spent nights in the middle of Wolvendom in blissful silence. Razor never felt like he had to talk much around them, and the same could be said of them. The two were able to discern most of what they needed to from body language, facial expressions, and scent in Razor’s case at times. It didn’t take long for them to be introduced to the rest of Razor’s Lupical. The pup they had rescued recognized them immediately and spent the entire evening receiving head scratches. As midnight approached, the older wolves nudged Razor towards their slumped over form. They had passed out with most of the pups on top of them, and Razor immediately curled up behind them with his chin resting over their exposed neck protectively. Just as he had watched the wolves do with their mates.

Albedo-

Wow. Kinda a mix of Kaeya and Razor; he is flirty (His teapot voice lines startled a blush out of me the first time I heard them) but way more subtle about it. But I also don’t think he has ever seriously considered a romantic relationship with someone. While the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, who could he possibly meet who would be compatible with him? His personal identity as a homunculus and a creation of Rhinedottr means he is already a nonhuman entity, and his title as Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist and his work keeps most of his relationships strictly professional. Even his friendships are mostly cordial, though he does enjoy the company of others at times. This man is always doing something, so entertaining romantic notions for anyone has never entered the picture. However, I think he would like a SO similar to Fanon!Traveler Lumine (And I’m not just saying this because I’m on the Albelumi ship I promise). Someone who managed to catch Albedo’s attention would need to have something inherently unique about them. Someone who manages to keep his attention on them for a significant period of time would have to have an equally appealing, lighthearted personality that practically lit up the room whenever they walked in.

What Albedo did not expect from his SO was someone who showed so much care for him. Someone who is curious about Albedo’s work, even if they don’t fully understand it. Someone who may not understand art, but recognizes the effort Albedo puts into his drawings. Someone who invites (read: coerces) Albedo out of his lab to go eat at Good Hunter or take the evening off to relax at Angels Share. Their occupation and background doesn’t mean much to him personally, the information is only relevant if it pertains to their health or behavior. Only one issue with this set up, even if feelings are completely reciprocated. Albedo has no clue what these feelings are and where they are coming from and will spend far too much time deliberating on what he should do to them. Much to the exasperation of all of the Knight and his fellow alchemists. Once Albedo does a full analysis of himself (bloodwork, brain scans, chemical analysis, a few experiments to see how he reacts to certain stimuli, this man is nothing if not thorough) he will come to the conclusion that he is in love. (Sucrose sighs when Albedo brings the test results to her.) And he immediately launches himself into a new kind of research. He asks around about the best way to confess, and eventually decides to cultivate a new species of flowers specifically for them and then just cut to the chase over a private picnic under the stars. This man already has no filter, so once he manages to correctly identify the emotions he is feeling, the length of time between then and the actual confession would be much shorter.

Those flowers Albedo cultivates in their honor would be everywhere once his SO admitted their feelings were mutual. He dedicated an entire section of the alchemists’ greenhouse to them and ordered for no one else to touch them except for him. They would find the flowers in their hair, in between books, scattered around Albedo’s workspace, and somehow in their house. Similar to Diluc, the few times Albedo and his SO were out together in public people would know that they’re dating, but beside the fact that the two were almost always holding hands and the occasional peck on the cheek, neither were overly affectionate in public. Albedo would also be incredibly flexible in private when it came to their dynamic. He likes both giving and receiving affection and doesn’t really have a preference as long as he can spend as much time as possible in their company when he’s not working. They like to follow him on his expeditions to Dragonspine, mainly for the excuse to snuggle with Albedo every night when they get cold. The rest of the Knights adjusted well to Albedo’s SO, even if Sucrose needed to take on more work at times so Albedo could spend more time with them. The Knights closest to Albedo watched with fascination as the typically workaholic alchemist actually took lunch breaks, got in late, and left the moment he was satisfied with the progress of his experiments. What they don’t see is how the way he treats his SO in private is almost reverent. They are his muse, his lover, and his eternal companion (because unlike Venti, Albedo would 100% find a way for his SO the share his lifespan if they so chose to) and in one of his dark moments, Albedo realizes just how much he would ruin if it meant they stayed safe.

Also, Alice would 100% show up for the first time in years just to help her son get ready for his first date.

Haven’t played Bennett’s hangout quest yet and don’t know enough about his character so I will probably post him with another nation once I get around to it.

I’ll get around to doing Liyue if enough people decide they like this.

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin x you #relationship headcanons #venti x reader #razor x reader #albedo x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya headcanons #venti headcanons #razor headcannons #albedo headcanons

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dreamy-moon-cat · 1 year ago

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━━━━➳༻❀✿❀༺➳━━━━

✧•° 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒..~°•✧

— 𝑚𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 𝑎𝑢, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

『✦』𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞/𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫

ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵘᵖˡᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒˢᵗᵉⁿᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒᵘˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʳᶜᵃˢᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ. ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵃʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵘⁿʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵗᵒᵘʳᵃᵍᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘˢⁱᵛᵉˡʸ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵉˡˡ⁻ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒʳ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ, ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᶜᵃʳˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵘˡᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ. ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵒʳ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗˢ ʸᵒᵘ, ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒᵒ. ᵀʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷʰʸ, ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ, ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵗⁱᵐᵃᶜʸ, ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵖⁱᶜ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘᵐᵖᵗᵉᵉⁿᵗʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵘʳᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵃˡˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵃᵍᵉⁿᶜⁱᵉˢ, ᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ, ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷᵃˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʳᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃˡᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ, ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ, ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵃⁿᵗ ʷᵃʸ.

ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ, ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ⁻ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ˡᵒᵘᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ, ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵒᵘᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰᵉˢ. ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢ, ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵘⁿᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿᵗʸ, ˢᵗᵘᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵈᵉᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢˢᵉˢˢ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢ. ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃˢ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃ ʰᵃᵇⁱᵗ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ. ᵀʰᵉʳᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃʷᵃʸ, ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱᵐ. ᴴᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇˡᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶠʳᵒʷⁿ, ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ.

ᴴᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ᵒʳ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉ, ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ. ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵃˣⁱᵐᵘᵐ ⁱˢ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒʳ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵐᵒⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘᵖ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒⁿᵍ⁻ˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ʰᵉ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ. ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ, ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁽ᵒʳ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ⁾, ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒʳⁿᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵗˡʸ, ᵖᵃˢˢⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᵐᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ᶜʳᵘˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵏⁱˢˢ, ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ˢʷᵉˡˡ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ. ᴴᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʳᵘᵈᵉ, ˢᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ, ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ, ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱᶜᵃˡ ᵖʰʳᵃˢᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱˡˡ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵐᵘᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ. ᴵⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵖⁱⁿⁱᵒⁿ, ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ˢʷᵒˡˡᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵃ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ.

ᴾ.ˢ ⁻ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵃˡ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ, ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃʸ, ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁿˢ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢʸ. ᴼᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ, ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ.

『✦』𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

ᴴᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ˣⁱᵃᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵇˡʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵃʳᵐᵗʰ, ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ, ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵏⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˡᵘˡˡᵃᵇʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃⁿⁱᶜ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ, ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ. ᵀʰᵉʳᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ, ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᶠᵃⁿˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃʳᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵉʳ. ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ, ʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ᵍⁱʳˡ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ. ᴬⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵉᶜⁱˢᵉˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵘᵃˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ, ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʷᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵘᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗʳʸ. ᴬˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶠⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ.

ᴬᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ. ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ, ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˣⁱᵃᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵒ ˢᶜᵃʳʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ. ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ. ᵀʰⁱˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ, ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿˢᵉᶜᵘʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ.

ᴬᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢʰⁱᵖ, ˣⁱᵃᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵃˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵛᵉʳᵇᵃˡˡʸ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᵛᵉʳᵇᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ. ᴴⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵛᵒʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵖˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ, ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ ʳ��ᵠᵘᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ, ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵐᵖʳⁱⁿᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⁻ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷʳⁱˢᵗˢ. ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ, ˣⁱᵃᵒ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ, ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʳʸˢᵗᵃˡ. ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ, ˣⁱᵃᵒ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ. ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ, ʰᵉ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛᵉˢ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏ, ʰⁱˢ ʳᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘⁿˢʰⁱⁿᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ.

『✦』𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢

ᵂⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ — ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢʰᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵒʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱˡᵐⁱⁿᵍ. ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳˡᵃᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵖ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ, ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃˢᵗᵉ "ᴱˢᵏⁱᵐᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ". ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇˢ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒˢᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉˢˢ, ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘⁿᵈⁱˢᵍᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ. ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ, ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ.

ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᵈⁱᵒ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵐˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵘⁱᵗᵃʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ, ʰᵘᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒˡᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ' ˢᵃᵏᵉ. ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵍᵘⁱᵗᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ. ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵉʳ. ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗˢ ʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗᵗᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᶜᵉ. ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ, ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉˡᵃˣⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳᵗ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒᶻᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘⁱᵗᵃʳ, ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉˡᵒᵈʸ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃⁿˢ. ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ, ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ.

ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ⁱⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ʰᵉ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵘᵐᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ. ᴴⁱˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵗᵃⁿᵉᵒᵘˢ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃʳʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ. ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ, ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵖʳⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᶜᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ.

ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵘᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ,, ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ, ᵛⁱᵈᵉᵒˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ. ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳᵗ, ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ˢᵗⁱᶜᵏᵉʳˢ ᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃʳᵉ ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ'ˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ, ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ, ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉⁿˢᵃᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ. ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵗᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᶠᵘˡ ᵍⁱʳˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗⁱᵉˢ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ⱽᵉⁿᵗʸ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ.

『✦』𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚

ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ. ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃˡᵐˢ, ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵗᵃⁿᵉᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵖᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵉˡⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ. ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒˡᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵠᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠˡⁱʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᶠⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵃᵇˡᵉ.

ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵛᵒʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵖ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ. ᴴᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᶜᵒᵘʳᵃᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵃⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ. ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵉᵛᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉˢⁱʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ, ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ. ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘʳᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵉᶜᵏ. ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵖʳᵒˣⁱᵐⁱᵗʸ, ᴷᵃᶻᵘʰᵃ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉˢˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵏⁱˢˢ. ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵉⁿⁱˢʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᶠⁱˡᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ.

ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵉᵐᵉᵃⁿᵒʳ, ᴷᵃᶻᵘʰᵃ ᵗᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉᵃˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ. ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ, ʰᵉ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵒʷᵉʳ ˡⁱᵖ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒʳⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ, ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ ᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ. ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒᵘᵗʳᵃᵍᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ. ᴵⁿ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃˡ, ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵒᶠᵗ, ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉˢˢ, ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ᴷᵃᶻᵘʰᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ, ᵖᵒᵉᵐˢ ⁽ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡʸʳⁱᶜˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒʳ ᵇʸ ᵂᵉⁿᵗⁱ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʰʸˢⁱᶜᵃˡ ⁱⁿᵗⁱᵐᵃᶜʸ. ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵗⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁿᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ. ᴴᵉ ᵐᵃʸ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵒʷⁿˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱᵉˢᵗ.

『✦』𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

ᴴᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱˢᵗᵉʳ, ᴸᵘᵐⁱⁿ, ʰᵃˢ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ. ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵇʸ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ, ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ, ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᵉ, ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵛᵒʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱˢˢ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ⁱⁿᵗⁱᵐᵃᶜʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ.

ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ, ᴵᵗᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᵃᵖ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃʳᵐ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ, ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵗⁱˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃˢᵗᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᶠⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ʷᵃʳᵐᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ. ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉʳˡʸ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ᵐᵃⁿⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ, ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᶻᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ — ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ "ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ", ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ᶠᵃⁿˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ. ᴵᵗ ᵐᵃʸ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵘⁿᶠᵃⁱʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁿˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵉʳ. ᴬⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᴵˢᵗʳⁱᵃ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ, ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢʰʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵃʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗⁱᶠʸ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵖᵒʳᵗᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉˢ ᵐᵉˡᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᴵᵗᵉʳ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᶜᵘʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵏᵃʸ.

ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿⁿᵒᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒʳ, ˢⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵗʳⁱᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁽ʷᵉˡˡ, ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁱʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿⁿᵒᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃʳⁱˢᵒⁿ, ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?⁾, ᴵᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿˡʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ʰᵒᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ, ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ. ᴬᵗ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ, ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ. ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵉⁿᶜʰ ᵏⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ, ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵗʷⁱⁿᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵃⁿᵗ ʷᵃʸ, ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁱʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵃˡⁱᵛᵃ ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵉᶜᵗˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰˢ. ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ, ᴵᵗᵉʳ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳˢ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᶜᵉ. ᴴᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ — ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ, ᵇᵘˢʸ ˢᶜʰᵉᵈᵘˡᵉ. ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ʷʰᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵃᵗᵉˢ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ᵖᵉʳˢᵘᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵈᵘᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵘᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ⁻ʰᵃⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃⁿʸʷʰᵉʳᵉ. ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁽ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ⁱᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ⁾ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘ, ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵉˣᶜʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ˡⁱᶠᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᵗᵉʳᵐⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵠᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵘᵗⁱᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ.

『✦』𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐮

ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵖˡᵃʸᶠᵘˡ. ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ, ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ, ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʸ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇˡᵘˢʰ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵒˡ ˢᵘᶜʰ ʲᵒʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ.

ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ.ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʸ ˢʰᵒʷᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘⁿᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᴴᵉⁱᶻᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ "ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ?" ᴴᵉ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʸ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒʳ ᶠˡⁱʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴴᵉⁱᶻᵒᵘ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ. ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ʰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰᵉˢ, ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵒʳ ᵛᵘˡᵍᵃʳ ᵖʰʳᵃˢᵉˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵃʳ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ, ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ. ᴴᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ, ᵗᵉᵃˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉᵈᵈᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ, ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ.

ᴴᵉⁱᶻᵒᵘ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳˢ ᶠˡᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿᵉˢ. ᴴⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵠᵘⁱᶜᵏ, ᵃˢ ⁱˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ. ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ, ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ, ʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵖˢ, ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏˢ, ⁿᵉᶜᵏ, ᵃʳᵐˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵖˢ ⁻ ᵃⁿʸʷʰᵉʳᵉ. ᴴᵉ'ˡˡ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵃʳᵉ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ⁱᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵍ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠʳᵉᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ. ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡᵇᵒʸ ⁱⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗᵉᵃˢⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘ. ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗⁱᶜᵏˡⁱˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ. ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵇʳⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃʸ. ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᶠⁱˣᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵘᵖᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐᵃⁿᶜᵉ, ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵈᵉˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵛᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵒʸ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃⁿˢ.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

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