#this post is rainbow puke

[au-maker]

Oh and by the by since Tumblr color selection is really limited I'll use this color for justice, this color for kindness, this color for perserverance, this color for integrity, this color for patience, this color for bravery (even though it's red), these colors for a new soul that has plot relevance (no, not Underverse stuff I promise I'm more original than that), this color in bold for Determination and this color in bold for the Player soul

[naomigoesferaldotcom]

SUGAR CLOUD DESERVES MORE LOVE! SUGAR CLOUD DESERVES MORE LOVE

Constance is a little sweetheart!! SHE DESERVES MORE LOVE

[vstheworld]

family reunion in less than 24 hours

I’m giving it a day before I either a) blow up over someone’s ‘harmless’ political jokes or b) just straight up come out as trans at grandma’s funeral

[lowkeyrobin]

Helloo, I was wondering if you could do MCYT with selective mutism? (ADHD reader heher) it mostly when happens when reader is overstimulated (Ie, a live concert or sm) and sometimes when readers battery is fucking drained completely they just fall asleep on MCYTs shoulder or sm? Thanks!!

oooo yes I relate to this sm ejmekekend ; thank you for requesting!

MCYT ; selective mutism

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, & quackity

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you guys go to a blink-182 concert

it was so fun yet so loud and crowded

by the time you got to the car, you'd decided, since being so overstimulated, to just shut down talking for a while

he's completely used to you going selectively mute, and knows a little sign language for you and has a notepad and pen in his center console for you

he still upholds conversation on the way home, but lets you stay quiet

you eventually fall asleep and he carries you inside bridal style lmfao

posts a pic of you on snap with the caption "their social battery died. L"

TUBBO

you went to an amusement park with some friends

halfway through the day he could tell you were clearly overstimulated and were getting quieter, only speaking when spoken too

by the time the sun set, and when you went on the coasters again to see all the lights and shit, you like sucked your lips in to stop yourself from screaming

he could tell you were just tired and your social battery was dead so he just kinda kept you close and reassured you that you were leaving soon

once you got in the car with Tommy and Freddie in the front, you two in the back, you instantly fell asleep on his shoulder

you won yourself a little rainbow snake and you were basically cuddling it

he took a picture and posted it on his snap story and captioned it "asleep with mister rainbow snake hours"

he did have to wake you back up once Tommy got you home bc there was no way he was gonna be able to carry you

RANBOO

you went to a concert

you were in the pit so you were literally shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of strangers

very overstimulating

once you leave you're clung onto him

you're clearly very tired and the second he grabbed your hand to work your way through the crowd, dead silence

once you got into the car, safe and secure from people, you just kinda sat there in silence

ran instantly knew your social battery was dead because it was pretty common after concerts and live events

he's able to understand sign just for you

they're probably able to carry you inside after you fell asleep considering they're easily able to carry other friends

if you need any fidget toys or anything to help you decompress, they have them dw

they're so understanding and respectful about it 🫶💔

FREDDIE BADLINU

you just had a long ass day

social battery was at a zero and you went mute hours ago

you come home, lay down, and just won't talk

he gets the memo, dw

he's open to listening if you wanna talk or even type it out, but he rants about his day because it makes you feel a little better about yourself

runs you a nice, relaxing, warm bath and allows you to decompress and relax for a while

and after that you basically fall asleep on hjm

he just peacefully holds you and hopes you're feeling a little bit better now

he'll do anything just to not make you feel a negative emotion

especially since you get overstimulated and go selectively mute because you feel like you'll puke or the words won't come out right

he doesn't know what it's like but considering he's seen it a lot from you, he sympathizes a lot and allows you to convey what you want, how you want because obviously, your brain works much different than his and he gets that

NIKI NIHACHU

you were quickly overstimulated by the loud music in a club that you went to with her

you went out for a friend's birthday and quickly retreated outside

the party scene is definitely not for you

she notices you're missing and quickly finds you, and understands that you're overstimulated and mute for the moment

she had a tangle fidget (like the ones that twist forever and ever) laying in her pocket and gave it to you in hopes itd help you decompress

she immediately takes you home after telling the friend to enjoy their night and informing them you needed to go home

almost instantly you passed out once you hit the bed LMFAO

she'll sit there and rub your temples and stroke your hair until you're definitely asleep

she 100% gets it, and will always comfort you and make sure you're okay

ALEX QUACKITY

the streamer awards were obviously very overstimulating

you were quiet most the night, from the recording and everyone looking at you guys to the anxiety and anticipation? nah bruh

once you got back to the car with Alex, Cellbit, Niki, Tina, and Foolish, you instantly just sat back and a weight was just lifted from your shoulders

you didn't have to talk to anyone or let anyone take pictures of you or record you anymore and it felt good

although he noticed, and confirmed you were just drained and tired and wanted alone time

he gave you his phone to play games on (like you're a little toddler or something) (your phone died an hour ago) and left you to do your thing while Foolish drove you guys home

halfway there you gave his phone back and fell asleep on him

"guys, quiet down a bit, they fell asleep"

takes a picture on snap and captions it "bro you didn't even win anything. What're you tired for???" as a joke

[victoirey]

— smart phones & shimmyflies . . .

SYNOPSIS !

you find yourself, a 21st century citizen— in Pandora. what will you do ?

gn!human!genz!reader / " im sorry , do you guys have any chips ? "

taglist / @loaqi @mylovelo-ak @somerandomweeb2 @stomach-bugg09 @cheari @lo-aksgf

hi guys!! this is a prologue for a project I've been planning for a long time! I'm so glad to say that I am putting it in action! woopwoop! I have commitment issues though. I don't know why I'm doing this. the official tag for this series will be 'primitive person in pandora' , and smartphones and shimmyflies will be the official title <3

you slapped on a bandaid to soothe your papercut as you flipped through another page of questions— to be greeted by more questions. there you were, sat in your room— music fading in and out as you did your homework. every question was harder than the last , which was reasonable — as the subject was science , for God's sake. how the hell do you wrap your head around science? or atleast, what you're learning in science right now. what the fuck is an optical phenomenon?! what the fuck is a sonorus?! why the fuck am i learning this, you think, when I could be running free? I could be hanging out with my friends , making silly tiktoks and actually living!

your head drops onto the wooden table, as you groan. "why can't we learn about aliens?" you ask yourself, "aliens are actually interesting. and some may even be hot." you say, "most aliens are hot." honestly, you don't even know what you're saying. you just want an excuse to not do this homework. whether it be by sleeping, watching a movie, hell- maybe even writing fanfiction and posting it on some deadbeat app would be better than this! anything would be better, you concluded.

you raise your head, fast— too fast, that you can't calculate when to stop. you forget the affect that raising your head quickly has on you— and you begin to get a bit woozy.

then your head hits the wall.

blobs of black follow after.

you don't know what to do, you don't know what to say— God, you've been needing a break for so long. as more blobs cloud your vision and as more of your thoughts overlap eachother— your eyes start to get heavier. damn, you didn't know simply hitting your head on a wall could do that shit. atleast you don't have to do your science homework. wait, will you still have to do it even though you blacked out? you should ask Ms. M about that..

out of all the thoughts, however, one seems to be a constant.

i hope im out long enough to be absent for the rest of the week.

the lab was always a constant for norm. it served as a way to get lost in himself, in his work— and right now, he really needed it. they were in the process of building a lab some where near awa'atlu, somewhere near the sullys. it was almost done, but the natives thoughts on it weren't. every time norm stepped out of that lab, unwelcoming glares from the metkayinan people. still, he went on. he tried to better his relationship with them, to learn their ways, to adapt— just as jake and his family did. it was still a work in progress, but it was going good. he was doing good.

being so dedicated to adapting and learning these past few days, he cherished these moments of calm. he was back in his human hold— reading over metkayinan books. his five fingers turned the page of the book, gently; his five fingers— calloused, tired, and yet still... they were relaxed. all of him was relaxed. he felt like he was floating, like he was in a sensorial deprivation chamber — from back on earth. he felt just that. he felt like all of his senses were sucked away temporarily, with all he could feel being the slow pace of his thoughts as they skimmed through a book.

he cherished these moments. he cherished this moment.

you, however, did not. you think you're about to wake up in your pretty little bed but NO. God has other plans for you because apparently hell is too merciful and you feel like you're about to puke. suddenly, you're in a fucking... rainbow or something. maybe it's the bifrost. it's probably the bifrost. when did thor exist? you didn't know and didn't care. you're seven seconds away from absolutely deteriorating and you feel shittier knowing you didn't even get a chance to shower one last time before drowning! then again, you showered yesterday but you wanted to feel that sprinkling water on your skin before you fucking died! what the fuck, universe?! you thought— the universe didn't answer.

you feel like you got thrown off the roof and these are your last moments before you eventually splat on the floor and die. like literally, bones broken and all. your whole life fucking flashes before your eyes, pictures of you and your friends, of your family— the tears you shed because of them, because of school, because of everything.

you think,

perhaps this is mercy.

still, The Great Mother has other plans.

you splat face first into norm's desk.

he jolts away from you instinctively, the book in his hands discarded as he looks at the fellow human that just came out of nowhere. did the wind carry you here? he didn't want a part in this. you, on the other hand, don't know how the fuck you aren't dead — all you know is that you have a raging headache. you push yourself up, weakly, and criss-cross your legs on norms desk— hand on your head as you let out a big sigh. "fuuuuck..." you say, and your voice is so weak, quiet, & pained. it tugs at norm's heart strings.

then again, he's always had a soft spot for kids like you. even if they ruined his desk.

he coughs to get your attention. your eyes look up at him, and he awkwardly waves "hi?" he says, not sure how to react, "why are you on my desk?"

the headache is long forgotten now, as you jump off his desk and try to grab at anything to use as a weapon. he raises both his hands up— trying to show you he means no harm, and you near hiss, survival instincts kick in. "you are absolutely INSANE. CRAZY. APESHIT. BALLISTIC. if you think I am trusting anyone that lives in a mad science LAB !" you yell, gesturing to your surroundings. this was the most mad scientist core place of your life. "where the fuck am i?!" you ask, tears near. you don't know where you are. you don't know the people here. you don't know what these devices are. you just want to go home already.

norm pities you.

"hey, hey— listen, 'm not gonna hurt you. 'm not gonna hurt you." he reassured, as gently as possible— you back away from him, but that only encourages him to take one step closer to you. his arms remain in the air, "I mean no harm. my name is Norm Spellman. I'm a scientist here at Pandora, and I'm also an operator. I got no experience with weapons. none at all." he tried to joke in his intro, tried to reassure you once more— and you hate to admitit, but it worked. now , you were just confused. you stepped towards him, tears dripping down your cheeks— voice shaky, and yet you stepped towards him— some part of you felt gravitated towards him, for it seemed like the universe had deemed him safe. safe for you. "my name is y/n." you replied, he smiled. "nice to meet you, y/n."

you nodded, eyes still blurry with tears. norm didn't say anything, he just patted your back & beckoned you to sit down. for a while, you stayed like that.

you stayed like that, until finally, you licked your chapped lips and — getting through multiple voice cracks & loads of tears, asked,

"what year is it?"

it wasn't a question you'd ask usually, but faced with guns that could aim themselves— with phones so advanced that your phone couldn't compete, god forbid you don't ask. norm looks at you, your obsolete clothes, your worn out phone that did not look like a phone at all— and your reactions to the environment that surrounded you. he knew that you were not from here, and in the most literal way possible. you were not from this time period. norm pursed his lips, "twenty one seven-ty..." he replied, dragging the y. your eyes bulged, and you slowly looked toward the floor to calculate how far into time you've gone.

it was 2170 here. you were in 2023.

2023 minus 2170.

one hundred fourty seven.

your face contorts into an expression so shocked, so horrifically terrified— that norm can tell from eight hundred miles that you're scared.

you look at him again, and say, to his utter horror—

"do you have a gun on you?"

[lovebugism]

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID | the beginning.

summary: a year after the end of the world, you and steve share one cigarette and two confessions. (6k)

listen to: "as the world falls down" by david bowie

tags: f!reader, roadtrip fic, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst & comfort, post st4, selective canon divergence (some things happen, some things don't), reader goes by the nickname "scout" TW panic attacks, conversations about grief, steve harrington smokes but he's still hot, outfit inspo (not indicative of what r's body type/skin color/etc.)

a/n: kinda surreal that i'm posting this because it's something i've been working on/thinking about for Months. i put so much time and effort and tears into this series so pleasepleaseplease enjoy it! as always, let me know what you think! let's watch these two (sort of) friends run away and fall in love with each other, shall we? <3

JOURNALS | MASTERLIST | SPOTIFY

★。＼ ｜ ／。★

The beginning of the rest of your life starts in the murky alleyway outside The Velvet Lounge.

It’s pretty fitting, actually. You feel like you’re close to dying anyway.

The lightning strike of a panic attack comes first as a cold hand around your throat. The clawed talon of a long-gone monster strangles you — sucks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you gasping for a breath you know won’t come. 

A second later and the light-up dance floor beneath your feet begins to sway. You blink, and it becomes the desiccated terrain of the Upside Down — again, and the glowing rainbow tiles return. Eventually, it becomes impossible to discern the real from the imaginary.

You feel a bit like the world’s caving in on itself as you stumble through the bustling crowd. The thumping of the heady bass strums throughout your body as you squeeze between a mob of sweatier ones. The merciless pounding makes you forget that your heart’s no longer beating.

The heavy breeze of a summer night smacks you in the face. There is no fresh air outside the buzzing nightclub, just more emptiness. 

You lean against the brick wall, clutching desperately onto your chest as you stumble from the exit. The world around you starts to spin on its side, going blurry like you’re being pulled underwater.

You’re drowning, but none’s coming to save you.

To everyone else, you’re just a girl that’s had too many. The girl that’s lost too much.

You duck into the dark alley with the intention of withering away there.

A warm hand brings you back to life.

“Shit, Scout,” Steve Harrington curses behind you. “Are you— Are you okay?”

You’ve never heard the nickname leave his mouth so gently. You don’t think he’s ever touched you so softly, either. It’s all so foreignly tender compared to the war raging inside your skull — you think it would’ve made you weep if you were capable of catching your breath.

His presence is only startling in the sense that you hadn’t expected to find him there.

It was pretty much the reason you’d slinked through the dimly lit passageway in the first place — to die completely and utterly alone. The flickering orange lamplight and damp brick made this place more adequate for puking college kids, canoodling couples, and conniving Ted Bundy’s of the world. Not pretty Steve and his pretty clothes and his pretty hair.

You’re more humiliated at having been caught than you are alarmed by it.

You figure you really shouldn’t be. He’s already seen you at your worst. On your deathbed, crying so hard you puke, so far gone from the world that you’re practically a ghost — that kind of worst. 

But for some reason, his wide palm on your shoulder makes you feel fragile. Small. He stands fathoms above you and you’re nothing but an ant under his sneaker — a little delicate thing he could crush completely if he wanted.

Instead, Steve holds you.

His long fingers cradle your trembling shoulder in a steady embrace. A warm reminder that you’re not alone in this gloomy alleyway that still thrums with life. That, in some ways, you’ve never really been alone at all.

“Yeah,” you answer finally, nodding but not looking over at him. You swallow through a tightening throat. “I just… I just need to, uh… to catch my breath.”

Steve eyes you with a gaze swimming with apprehension.

Your shoulder presses into the rough brick while your other hand clings desperately to your chest. Your fingers dig into the soft cotton of your shirt like you’re reaching for your thundering heart. Each of your breaths is ragged, forced, worked for. You grunt your way through every impossible inhale.

Facing away from him under the dim amber streetlight, he can barely make out your profile. He only gets glimpses of your scrunched face and the tear that glimmers gold on your cheek. But with his hand on your arm, he can feel the rapid up-and-down motion of your heavy breaths. Panic sizzles off of you and onto him like static shock.

“Yeah, it was getting kinda crazy in there, huh?” he says within a halfhearted laugh. “I didn’t know people like Duran Duran so much.”

It’s nothing more than a feeble attempt to get you to laugh. 

And it works. Sort of.

You’d lost sight of Steve somewhere around the time “Girls on Film” came on. Nancy’s drunken hand pulled you to the dance floor, and every other tipsy woman followed right behind you. He hadn’t seemed to care much about dancing, though. He just sat in the corner booth with Robin until Vickie came by and stole her away. The last you saw him, he was sitting alone at the bar with a basket of chicken wings before disappearing entirely.

But he hadn’t disappeared, you figured. He was just here, in this eerily empty alleyway, trying to get away from it all just as much as you were.

Steve sees the corners of your mouth quirk upward in a grimacing sort of smile. A scoff sounds from your throat a moment later. He thinks that might be the sort of laugh you get from a girl who doesn’t have much to find humor in anymore.

Your newfound relief is his own.

“You okay now?” he asks once you’ve caught your breath.

You nod and settle back against the brick. The fabric of your shirt sticks to the prickly clay. “Yeah,” you repeat, more truthfully this time. “Thanks— Thank you.”

You’re forced to mourn the warmth of the broad hand on your shoulder when he pulls away from you. 

He doesn’t stray far, though. He remains at your side with his back to the brick —  his frame much taller than your own, broader too. His woody cologne swirls with the purer scent of a summer night and the distant smell of beer. He holds within him an air that can only be described as all-consuming. He’s exactly the feeling of everything warm despite the several inches that separate you. 

Steve offers you the lit cigarette in his left hand, and for a reason you can’t name, his kindness takes you by surprise. You’ve fought a monster with the guy, but he still feels like a total stranger to you sometimes.

He sees you hesitate and thinks that this might be the first time either of you have been alone together. You don’t have anything in common except for the party. Without one of the members to accompany you, the fact becomes a heavier weight to bear.

It’s sort of like a peace offering — this half-gone cigarette. A ‘hey, I know we aren’t really friends, but maybe we could be.’

You take it. “Thanks…”

Steve watches you puff from the stick. You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, pinching it as you bring it up to your mouth. The huff you take isn’t a deep one, probably the fault of your still staggering breaths, but your eyes flutter shut on the exhale like you’re grateful for the nicotine fix.

He realizes then that he’s never looked at you before. Like, really looked.

Like a ghost, you tend to blend easily into the background, floating around in the shadows without ever being seen. You’re only out tonight because Robin and Nancy forced your hand, but in your darkened outfit — cropped tee, plain skirt, worn boots, all varying shades of black — you threaten to blend in with the night. You do it all with the finesse of a girl who’s all but disconnected herself from the world.

You catch him staring when you hand the cigarette back.

You don’t look weirded out by his prying gaze — quite the opposite, really. You cower under the attention, chin tilting toward your chest and a sheepish smile hinting at your lips. Embarrassed without any actual reason to be.

“Wanna tell me the real reason you came out here?” Steve asks you, covering the serious inquiry with a joking lilt.

Your brows furrow as you watch him bring the cigarette to his own mouth. He’s got this look on his face — raised brows, wide eyes, and quirked lips — almost like he’s teasing you.

You breathe out an awkward laugh.

“What do you mean? I just told you.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It looks more like you’re wincing as you shift your weight on your feet. “I just needed to—”

“To catch your breath,” Steve finishes for you, smoke billowing from his pink lips. The grey lingers between you for a moment before disappearing entirely. He nods with a lopsided grin before handing you back the cigarette. “Yeah. I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

Your eyes go wide. He can’t tell if you’re shocked by his bluntness or if you’re embarrassed at having been caught so quickly. Maybe a healthy mixture of both.

Your throat tightens all over again. You swallow thickly as you turn away from him and it feels like you’re forcing down a too big pill. The back of your eyes burn with unshed tears, so many stinging needles that you force yourself to blink away.

And even though you’re just trying not to cry at the reality of the situation you’ve spent a year hiding from, to Steve it looks like you’re searching for a way out. Your gaze snaps to the opening of the alley where nicely dressed people bustle on the other side, their conversations far away and muffled.

He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. He just thought you could use a friend, considering you were only just recovering from the windswept panic spell.

“Look. You— You tell me why you’re out here, and I’ll tell you why I am,” he offers, partly to make you feel better.

The other half of it, which he finds it startling to admit, is that he doesn’t want you to leave.

He’d spent fifteen minutes by himself in the dark — half comforted by it, half frightened. Despite his distant unfamiliarity with you, he’s weirdly comforted by your presence. Steve’s seen enough people walk away from him to know he doesn’t want you to join them.

You look at him again, more glassy-eyed than you’d been before. Your sniffle is nearly inaudible. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “You know… A you-show-me-yours, I’ll-show-you-mine kinda thing.”

It sounds a lot weirder coming out of his mouth than he expected it to. It makes you laugh, though, so it feels sort of worth it.

“That sounds really pervy,” you tease with a more sincere smile.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just— Maybe just ignore that last part, yeah?” he stammers stiffly, laughing softly at himself shortly after.

You finally take a hit from the cig between your fingers. Your gaze falls to your boots.

They were a gift from someone you knew a long time ago — someone you don’t know anymore because they’re gone.

It was a well-loved anniversary present you’ve worn every day since you got them. They’re a bit tattered now, obviously worn on the platformed bottoms. You don’t know how many times you’ve glued the soles back together now — or how many times you’ve tried to wash away the faded bloodstain by the laces that refuses to come out.

It’s as stuck there as the memories in your head are.

And even though you’ve never talked about it out loud, you think you could write a million words about how looking at the stain makes you feel — about all the thoughts that swirl within you at the sight of it and why you can’t throw them out despite it all. You’d write about the boy who bought them for you, whose name it’s still so hard to say — the boy who you loved who was gone.

It was just easier to shove it all down.

You kept your grief horribly discreet, like a poorly stitched-together wound.

If you couldn’t even burden yourself with it, why should you expect anyone else to?

But here Steve goes, offering to let that raging wound breathe. 

Something about the ultimatum makes it more comforting. It’s a lot easier to tell a kept secret when you know another hidden confession is coming right after it. You don’t know if you’ll ever get this chance again — to shield your grief with someone else’s. 

“Okay,” you answer suddenly before exhaling the gray from your lungs. You outstretch your hand to give him the cigarette back. You try to smile. “You first, though.”

Steve puffs from the stick before he answers you. For a moment, it’s nothing but muffled conversations and a stifled bass that rattles the brick. The quiet is noticeably less suffocating than all the quiets you’ve known before — less lonely now that you’ve got someone to share them with.

“I hate parties,” he summarizes with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you joke.

He flicks the end of the cigarette to dispel the ash. Grey specks fall to the damp concrete. When he hands it off to you again, your fingers brush his own. Your skin is much cooler than the humid summer air surrounding you.

“I mean, I used to like parties. I think,” Steve explains, still rather vague, gesturing with wild hands like you’re used to. “Really, I just liked to drink, you know? ‘Cause everyone liked me when I was drunk. I was the popular guy — Mr. Funny, Mr. Cool. But, uh… I guess somewhere down the line, I forgot how to have fun like that.”

“Forgot how to have fun?” you repeat with a sad sort of laugh. Your brows scrunch and your swim with sympathy. The streetlamp casts sharp shadows on his chiseled features, but he still looks at you so soft — eyes sweet with the tenderness he holds there and smiling just the same.

It’s hard to believe that the King of Hawkins High could’ve ever felt anything other than total elation when he had a whole ocean outside his front door on Fairview Lane.

“I think they have a name for that these days, Harrington.”

He laughs and turns to press his shoulder into the brick. He’s facing you now, and it feels much more like he’s looming over you. 

You remain against the wall, still a bit overwhelmed by the presence of a boy who never would’ve looked your way a year or more ago. It takes everything in you not to duck away from him completely.

“Well, I was only having fun because I was drunk, right?” he elaborates, brown eyes a golden amber beneath the flickering light. They twinkle looking down at you.

“Sure…” you shrug to humor him.

“And, like, I can deal with the hangovers and everything no problem, you know, but the… The waking up the next morning. The remembering, I guess. Remembering everything I was trying to forget when I was drinking. That’s… That’s the worst part.”

You don’t realize how intently you’re looking at him at first. Every quirk of his rosy mouth, every twitch of his bushy brow, every glint of his chocolate eyes as he divulges a deeply held secret doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Behind all the pretty hair and expensive clothes is a boy much sadder than you could’ve imagined. 

Something bigger had done a number on him. Something more than the end of the world.

His upturned gaze returns to you and you realize you haven’t blinked once.

You do a rather shit job of pretending you weren’t just staring. You haphazardly turn away again, handing him the cigarette despite not having put your mouth to it.

“Yeah, I— I get what you mean…”

Your words seem to surprise him. His brows pinch like he was more prepared to be made fun of than empathized. He takes the cig from you with an absentminded hand. It goes quickly forgotten.

“You do?”

“Well, not so much with drinking, but… It happens to me in the morning sometimes,” you shrug, feigning nonchalance, and trying not to seem like it’s a phenomenon you’ve experienced every day for a year and a half. “It’s, like, that split second of bliss right before the grief comes back, right?”

Steve blinks owlishly. Then nods.

“That half a moment where nothing bad’s ever happened to you, and it’s just the sun shining on you before the… the bad shit comes back again. Like it never even left.”

And Steve, who’s never met another person who could so easily understand him and that otherwise indescribable feeling so perfectly, is stunned into silence.

Maybe it’s his fault for keeping it all to himself, like a love letter he can’t bring himself to unfold. It’s entirely likely that he could find a million people in the world who’ve felt all the same feelings he’s garnered over the past couple of years. It still wouldn’t hold the same weight as being understood now — being understood by someone who’s been through the end of the world with him.

Being understood without all the empty words.

“Yeah,” he nods finally, clearing his throat. His cheeks glow red when he realizes he’d forgotten to speak because he was too busy looking at you. “Yeah, exactly— Shit!”

The sides of his fingers sting with a sharp ache. The cig in his hand drops to the ground, half the size of his pinky. There isn’t much left of it now, and that’s why it burns him so. It hits the concrete, more ash than stick. The skin of Steve’s finger blackens as it blazes.

“Oh— Are you okay?” you grimace.

Steve snuffs out the burning cigarette with the toe of his sneaker.

“Yeah, I— I just wasn’t paying attention,” he dismisses with the shake of his head, more so at himself than anything else. It’s the first time he’s had an actual conversation with you, and he’s already embarrassed himself twice. He’ll count himself lucky if you care enough to talk to him again.

“Your go, Scout,” he offers suddenly in a measly attempt to get the attention off of him and his blunder. He wipes the ash from his pointer and middle finger on his jeans. “See if you can out-miserable me.”

You roll your eyes at him, still smiling. “What is this? The trauma olympics?”

“C’mon. I’m kidding,” he assures with a lilt. He reaches out to nudge your arm with his knuckles and, like before, his touch is almost too soft for you to feel it. The act of platonic intimacy takes you momentarily by surprise.

His smile is crooked. His eyes glimmer with honey. “I was kidding,” he repeats.

“It was just that, um— that song,” you answer. It comes out more choked than you expected it to. “They started playing that song.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What song?” he asks. Not pressing. Only curious.

“That one that… that Eddie played when I…”

“Oh.”

“I used to love that stupid song— I mean, obviously. It sorta saved me from what should’ve been an unavoidable death, so…” You manage to laugh at yourself as you ramble.

Steve can’t find it in himself to do the same.

He’d been terrified when it happened to Max — when the kid he was involuntarily babysitting started to float in midair, nearly succumbing to the curse of a monster that should’ve been make-believe. He was relieved when she fell back down again, but you? He was certain you were a goner. 

You were too high up and Eddie’s guitar was too far away. The beginning notes of I Was Made For Lovin’ You were too grim and Vecna’s claws were in too deep. You were too distant, too banished.

For several agonizing seconds, you were destined to remain a stranger to him.

But here you are now, sharing cigarettes and secrets.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you shake your head at yourself. “But, um, anyway. Yeah. It’s just… Sometimes things will happen, you know? Like I’ll— I’ll hear a song or… I’ll see something that reminds me of him— of Eddie. And it’s just like…”

“…Like you’re in the Upside Down again?” Steve finishes gently for you when he sees that you can’t.

You nod, wordlessly for a moment, until the words catch up with you.

“Like nightmares, but when I’m awake,” you force through a closing throat. “And they’re so real. Like… I can— I can hear him. I can hear him talking to me, and I’m— I’m holding him, and I can feel him breathing, you know? He’s still breathing, but—”

You take a staggering breath in. For a moment, Steve’s scared you’re tumbling headfirst into another panic attack.

His attentive eyes flit between your scrunched up face and the trembling hands you hold out in front of you. You’re cradling something that isn’t there anymore. You look down at your palms with a horror that tells him you understand that, too — that the person you used to hold isn’t able to be held anymore.

“I can feel the… the blood. And it’s just… It’s all over me. And I’m losing him. I’m losing him all over again—”

You hiccup a measly sob when your lungs force you to take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It puts an end to your rambling. You’re grateful enough for it. You’d already said more than you were planning to — more than you thought you’d say in a lifetime. 

You think you must sound deranged, talking about a corpse like it’s still a warm body you hold every night.

In some ways, it is.

You sniffle and blink back burning tears. Your smile edges on sincerity. “So, what do you think, Harrington? Did I out-miserable you?”

Steve scoffs in the place of a real laugh. “I didn’t have a dog in that fight, did I? What you went through… I mean, I shouldn’t even be complaining.”

“Hey, c’mon,” you scold gently. “We both went through shit. It was all bad, no matter how you look at it. Just because we didn’t go through the same stuff doesn’t mean what happened to you is any less important.”

You just barely catch his cinnamon eyes going glassy before he turns away from you entirely. His stubbled cheeks blotch with varying shades of pink, glowing with an emotion he can’t keep hidden. He looks down at his dirty sneakers because he can’t bare to look at you now.

Understanding, that’s what this is. Understanding without all the empty words.

It’s still hard for him to believe them, though.

In the grand scheme of things, what happened to him wasn’t so terrible. 

He wasn’t under any sort of curse. No one he cared about was irrevocably hurt, either. And he didn’t have to hold someone he loved in his arms while they bled to death — doesn’t have to feel like he’s still holding onto them a year after it all.

Despite the marred scars on his mind and body, Steve convinces himself that he has no reason to be sad — even though that’s not really how sadness works. Grief isn’t the kind of thing you can just will away, but he beats himself up when he can’t — when the heartache wins.

It’s a never-ending cycle. A loop he’s been stuck in since he was seventeen. A portal he was terrified would never close. 

Now, at least, it feels sort of possible.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Scout,” he jokes after the urge to weep has passed. He tilts his head to his shoulder and smiles a crooked grin. “I’m gonna start to think you like me.”

Without missing a beat, you retort: “Please, never ever think that. That would completely shatter my reputation.”

You both laugh with the knowing that it’s all just a joke.

You never had much of a reputation because you spent your whole life being invisible. You liked it best that way because never being seen meant nothing was ever expected of you. You’ll happily take someone you went to school with your entire life never knowing your name than any bogus Hawkins High royalty status any day.

Steve, better known by his title of King, wishes now that he’d taken a page out of your book. He learned the power of invisibility far too late.

“Who woulda thought, huh?” the boy sighs, chocolate eyes turned up to the velvet blue sky. “You and me… being friends.”

You arch a brow at him. “Oh, is that what we are now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve scoffs like it’s obvious. “They didn’t tell you? You fight monsters together, and you’re bonded for life.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I mean, why do you think me and Henderson are so close?”

“So you’re saying you would’ve never been friends if it wasn’t for the end of the world?” you reiterate with a challenging squint.

“That’s almost exactly what I’m saying. Yeah,” he nods with his pink lips jutted softly out. “If none of that shit ever happened, I’d still be that raging douchebag I used to be. My life would be… so much different.”

“Worse?” you press.

He thinks for a moment.

Without the whole end-of-the-world thing, he never would’ve met Dustin. He never would’ve gotten closer to Robin. Nancy never would’ve had a reason to break up with him, and he figures he’d have long settled down with her by now. They’d be that miserable couple that somehow manages to make it.

He’d probably still be friends with Tommy Hagan, too, getting drunk at parties he’s too old to be at. He’d still be the King Steve everyone loved and hating every second of it.

Fighting monster after monster changed him for the better. Even with its horror, how could he ever take that back?

He winces at the realization. “Yeah…”

“So you’d do it all over again?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“I think so, yeah.” Steve’s smile is shy as he ducks his gaze, peering at you through his lashes. “I’m a total idiot, right?”

Your brows pinch together as you shake your head. “No. I don’t think so… Actually, I think the end of the world looks pretty good on you, Harrington.”

He knows you don’t mean it how it sounds. He gets the feeling you’re talking less about his appearance and more about why he’s standing out here in the first place — talking to a girl he’s halfway known all his life whose name he didn’t know until she almost died.

For the same reason — the one that’s brought you to him and this alley — he jokes back: “It looks good on you, too, Scout.”

Again, you laugh with the understanding that you’re joking. For the most part, at least. 

You’re both so weathered with grief, looking much older than your years, forced to wear your woe all over. For whatever transformation the trauma might’ve done internally, it hadn’t done anything on the outside than leave scars that won’t fade.

When the laughter subsides, a silence roars to life. 

Not a total one. You can still hear the pounding bass from inside The Velvet Lounge and the muddled chatter of people coming in and out of it. It’s not a totally uncomfortable one either, which is far more than you thought you could ever say about talking to Steve The Hair Harrington. 

But it’s still sort of heavy in its way. Likely with the idea of what the both of you know and of everything you’ve confessed out loud.

Now that it’s all out in the open, Steve’s got no idea how to move on. How is he supposed to joke around now? How does he say anything but sorry to the girl who holds all her grief in her eyes?

“Hey, Scout?” he calls quietly.

Your leftover grin hasn’t yet faded. “Hm?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

The smile ebbs entirely.

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask with the shake of your head, almost flinching at the sudden condolence. “You didn’t… You’re not the one that killed Eddie.”

“I know. I just… I feel like I should— like I should say it, you know?”

“That’s the worst part about all of this, I think. Like… you lose someone, and no one knows how to talk to you anymore,” you confess, a sad smile hinting at the very corners of your lips — so soft it’s barely there. Your gaze falls to your boots again. “Everyone just feels so sorry for you all the time. All anyone ever wants to do is talk about what happened like I don’t have to think about it enough, you know? It just… It makes it impossible to move on.”

Steve winces. He can’t ever say the right thing. “I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing,” you tell him, laughing. “I’m not saying that— I’m just… I’m just saying. I think it’d be easier if I didn’t have to stay here. You know, where everything happened. If I could… Like, if I could just go, I think that maybe I could get better.”

“You could,” Steve affirms with a nod.

Your brows furrow. “Get better?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, amber gaze flitting between your glittering eyes and his dirty sneakers. “And… And leave. You know, if you wanted to.” 

The thought alone makes you laugh. “By myself? With no car? Barely any money?”

“You wouldn’t have to go alone,” he promises.

“Yeah?” you scoff, still grinning like it’s all a joke to you. “And who would want to run away with a girl with a broken heart?”

He answers without thinking and with a lopsided smile. “The boy with nothing to lose.”

Your smile fades with the heavy weight of his offer.

It isn’t just about running away. It’s about running away together — two people with nothing in common besides a mutual hatred for a dark wizard from the underworld, ditching a town that hasn’t done shit for them, and pretending like nothing’s ever hurt them.

And at first, you’re shocked. Who wouldn’t be with such an offer thrown at their feet? But then, and more than anything else, you’re confused. Why would Steve want to run away? you think to yourself. Why would he want to run away with you? 

When the bolt blue finally dissipates, you’re left with a simmering feeling of disbelief.

Steve shouldn’t want this, and he shouldn’t want it with you.

“You’re drunk,” you conclude, smiling because it’s a joke again.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Steve shrugs with his gaze pointed to the sky. The stars are hidden beneath layers of light and pollution. They’re out there somewhere, but he can’t see them — not from where he is now. He looks back to you, a sheepish smile playing on his pink mouth. “But… I’m not.”

“Would you seriously want to leave?” you squint. With me, you keep to yourself, unsaid.

“I’ve, uh— I’ve been wanting to for a while, actually. Even before all of… this,” he confesses, waving his hand out into the ether. He grins in reminiscence, but not the fond kind. “My dad— he’s just been dogging me about work and college and everything, you know? I think he wants me to be the same big shot business douchebag that he is, and I get it, but…”

You lean closer to him, brows furrowed. “But what?” you press.

Steve exhales a sad laugh. “I really don’t wanna end up like my dad,” he admits — a thought he kept like a thorn in his side finally said out loud. “And I’m scared that, if I stay here, I will.”

“So you’ve just been looking for a way out. All this time?” you wonder aloud. While I thought you were on top of the world, you were wanting out of it.

Steve shrugs, then nods.

“And a girl with nothing to lose?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly to himself. “That, too.”

You turn away from him again, deep in thought. Steve mourns your gaze — its attentiveness more than anything, the way you look at him and seem to understand him without saying a goddamn word. He didn’t think that was possible before now.

You think to yourself for a moment. Mostly because it’s something you know you should think about before you do it.

How will you pay your way? Where will you go? What will you do when you get there? 

What will your parents say when they notice you’re gone? How long will it take before they do? 

Who’ll feed the stray cats outside the trailer park? 

Who’ll leave flowers at Eddie’s grave once a month and clean it when it’s ultimately vandalized by assholes who still think he was a mass murderer sent from Hell to do Satan’s bidding?

There’s a lot of questions you don’t have answers for.

What little you do know, though, you’re certain of.

You know there’s nothing left for you in Hawkins.

You don’t have much family — especially not since Eddie — and your friends aren’t really your friends. Sure, Nancy invites you out from time to time, but she’d never call you to dish about secrets and shared trauma in this way. Sometimes you think they only include you because your boyfriend died, and they all saw what it did to you.

And you also know that there’s nothing holding you back but grief. To absolve yourself from it all, to finally move the fuck on, you’re going to have to leave it all behind. It’s not like you’d be missing much anyway. 

You’re still a ghost because you live in a soul-sucking town full of people who only want to talk to you when it’s to remind you that the only person you’ve ever loved is dead.

Nothing has brought you back to life quite like this boy and his secrets and offer to run away.

You think you’d been an idiot to walk away from it. From him.

“Fuck it.”

Steve almost flinches at how feverishly you turn to face him again. 

His brows raise to his hairline, honey eyes going wide at the abrupt nature of your sudden reply. “…Fuck it?” he echoes, not nearly as confident as you’d said it — just grateful that you’d said it at all.

For a boy who always expects rejection, your innate acceptance of him and his previously kept secrets makes his chest swell with so much warmth that it’s started to burn him. He can feel his ribcage turning to ash and his heart melting as he speaks.

“Fuck it,” you nod, more serious than he’s ever seen you.

You turn to face him fully, something you’d been too timid to do just minutes ago. You’re more sure now — of him, of this. The proximity between your bodies forces you to tilt your head up to look at him. Similarly, his chin falls to his chest to peer at you.

Tucked away in this alley, you’re made of shadows and shades of gold. The lamplight still flickers over your heads. The brick still shakes with the drumming, muffled bass. You don’t realize until now that you can feel your heart beating again.

“Let’s do it,” you shrug with a blast of hopeful anticipation swelling in your chest, more optimistic than you’ve been in a year. “Nothing to lose, right?”

Steve grins.

“Nothing to lose,” he repeats, reminding himself of the fact when reality starts to set in on him. Even if he fails, even if it all goes wrong and he’s waking up in his childhood bed a week from now, he can’t get any lower than rock bottom. Besides, now he’s got you to fall back on, right?

“Fuck it.”

★。／ ｜ ＼。★

[fuck-customers]

I work drive-thru at a fairly popular nationwide fast food place. A week ago I saw June 28th on our calendar says "Pride Day" for the theme. I realized I could puke rainbows all over instead of wearing the normal uniform. Well, yesterday my shift lead overheard my excitement showing a friend my amazon cart and asked why I wanted to be so offensive to our customers. Instead of replying I just added more rainbows to my cart. Get rekt, I'm gonna be fabulous! HAPPY PRIDE!

Posted by admin Rodney.

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

Following up with my percy and the concept of breathing post, i also wanted to point out the trope of percy hating rainbows that occurs a little too much in the riordanverse

Percy’s gym uniform being a rainbow tie dye (and him hating it)

that one scene in titans curse where zoe dresses percy up in some rainbow clothing (and him hating it)

the rainbow man satchel that iris gave him in son of neptune (and him hating it—wait a second)

”i taste the rainbow and its pretty nasty” the chapter title says it all

Setne puking rainbows in demigods and magicians (AND PERCY HATING IT—)

[correlance]

I just read your chalastor headcanons and that was so cute and wholesome

As an aroace im not much of a shipper

With charlastor i absolutely love the idea of them possibly becoming genuine besties on the next season. But ngl your headcannons were so cute a small part of me is thinking of making wholesome fluff ship art with them.

Im always platonic over ships but wholesome stuff like this do tugged on my heart strings <3

Thank you so much, my dear! As one of my old writing pals once told me, "Sometimes, your wholesome content is so sweet that it gives me diabetes and makes me puke rainbows at the same time." 😂

As for me, I am highly interested in seeing Alastor try to coax Charlie into realizing her full "potential", given she is "madly powerful". Series creator Vivienne Medragon (Vivziepop) also stated that "Alastor would make a good mentor", so I think we will see him fulfill that role for Charlie in canon in Season 2. Lucifer won't be happy about it.

As for the headcanons: If you feel inspired, please, feel free to explore your feelings through wholesome fluff ship art! Tag me if you post it.

My favorite part about being in a romantic relationship as an asexual person was literally just sleeping and physical touch, in a non-sexual context, with my partner. A lot of people don't realize that someone can also feel vulnerable while sleeping, and not just during sex, which is also why I think Alastor, per Medrano (Vivziepop), "doesn't sleep".

Additionally, because many asexual and aromantic people don't really seek out physical contact in a romantic sense, and a lot of allosexual people get their physical touch and other needs met by their romantic partner(s), being "touch-starved" is also a factor. I can absolutely see Alastor being "touch-starved", in the sense where he doesn't like to be touched without his consent, especially by other men, and prefers to initiate physical contact on his own terms, including with women.

However, he also probably hasn't experienced being touched in a long time, with the exception of Rosie and Niffty, because he keeps everyone at a physical and emotional distance. However, as we know, Charlie can be exuberant and more comfortable with touch, such as giving others hugs (i.e. Angel Dust in Episode 4), and she immediately hugged Alastor in Episode 8 because she was so happy he was alive. Alastor smiled at her in return, and seemed to enjoy her embrace.

Due to this, I think that Charlie and Alastor are building a unique bond, one where Alastor is slowly learning to trust Charlie, which includes allowing Charlie to initiate casual physical contact with him. In fact, Alastor becoming more comfortable with Charlie, and vice versa, will likely be used by Alastor to provoke Lucifer a bit in Season 2.

My headcanons were written with the mindset of Alastor meeting Charlie when he was alive and a human in the 1920s-1930s; and, as Medrano (Vivziepop) has stated, Alastor believes he is straight, even if he is truly asexual. Given this context, my post imagined a scenario where Alastor married Charlie because he genuinely enjoys her company, and deeply loves her more than anyone else in his life, even if he doesn't really experience sexual attraction or desire, like others.

There is also an underlying context of "Alastor married Charlie because it was normal for that time period"; and, even though Alastor and Charlie compromise on sex, their relationship is as healthy as it could probably be for a happily married couple in the 1920s-1930s.

However, people are always welcome to interpret my headcanon post as the characters in Hell or canon, or as demon Charlie and Alastor!

[averagesadperson]

Hello! First of all, I hope you are having an excellent day! Second, may I request some dating Macaque hcs?? Please and thank you!! ^^

Dating Macaque Headcanons~

~~~~~

Notes: Hello!! Thank you so much for requesting, so sorry this took me so long, I've literally been writing this in a little notebook during my breaks at work lol

Hope this is to your liking, enjoy!

also, sorry if there's any spelling mistakes!

~~~~~

To start off, I think we would all love to say dating Macaque would be sunshine and rainbows, he would love you and treat you perfectly

But let's be real here

Macaque is an asshole lmao

Even getting him to date you is a hassle itself

But let's not get into that atm

He loves you a lot, don't get me wrong, he just has a very, very hard time showing it

Depending where in the series we’re talking about it's going to be quite different, but let’s just assume this is after LBD, ‘kay?

‘Kay

During this time Macaque is a lot more likely to stay in one place with you

Yes, maybe that consists of him popping into your apartment every now and then, but you slowly start seeing things around your place that aren’t yours

Piles of clothes, food, a toothbrush, his scarf at one point, all that jazz

But, this domestic scene is very… forgein to him

He’ll gladly sit down and watch your favourite stupid, predictable TV show with you for hours, but he’ll critique it the entire time

He insists that he help you cook, even though he knows even less than you and it always turns out a mess

You don’t even have to ask him to go shopping with you, he’ll use his shadows to get there quickly but will just stand beside you as you shop, not helping whatsoever

As I said in the last post, Macaque is very touch starved

But he also hates it lol

He doesnt think he deserves your touches

You’re just so perfect, how could you ever be happy settling for him?

If your dating Macaque, you’ll definitely have to make a few changes in your day to day life

Starting with the physical changes

Not to you, of course

If you want him to sleep beside you you’ll have to push your bed against a wall if it isn’t already, or else he’s sleeping on the couch, peace out

You’ll have to get used to telling him where your going/where you are when not with him

Not in a creepy, possessive, stalker-y way, but because he’s the ‘Six Eared Macaque’, he’s got a lot of very old, and very powerful enemies

Granted, most of those enemies are on the good side and wouldn't stoop that low to get to him,,,,

Doesn't matter, he’s worried about you

Speaking of said heroes,

If you happen to be friends with MK and co. he’s not going to be very enthused

Especially if you talk to Wukong

Macaque wants to puke when you come home smelling like peaches

If you happen to run into them while with him, or they stop by while he’s there, things are going to be kinda awkward

Half of them are trying to talk to him, some are keeping a respectful distance, and some are glaring like he held them by the throat and forced them to take on this really obscure dangerous weapon that even its creator couldn't handle and that might have killed them and the entire world or sumthin

Idk

Anyway

HE’LL PUT ON SHADOW PLAYS FOR YOU!!!

He’ll teach you how to make certain shadow puppets, but like the normal way with your hands

His are always better but he has powers so it doesn't count

Before Macaque initiates any physical affection he will always ask

“Can I kiss you?” while holding your chin

“Can I hug you?” while physically holding himself from reaching for you

Along with that, he always makes sure you have a way out throughout everything

All you have to do is say ‘stop’ and he’ll pretend like it never happened

Macaque dreads the day you’ll finally wake up and realize you deserve so, so much better than him

He’s done despicable things in his long life, how can you love him knowing that? It’s really just a matter of time, he’s sure

But, even then, he’s going to savour every single moment he has with you

Macaque is just a little bit too selfish to have this end so soon

But, if you do decide to leave, he’ll let you

[thesparklingwriter]

playing dress up

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.”

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, they have a kid because why not, Zhongli get bullied by his wife and daughter because he's whipped, i just wanted to write him with a kid, i am puking rainbows and candyfloss, this is a bit too sweet

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

hi, i'm interrupting your path to the fic because i wanted to say thank you for 50 followers (ik its not a lot but humour me) i made this blog like 3 weeks ago on a whim and i didn't expect people to like my stuff this much. so thank you again for all your support, and i hope you enjoy, and i don't know what to do to celebrate my silly little milestone but I'll probably just double-post tonight or tomorrow.

"Mei-mei?" You call, running up the stairs into your daughter's room. You heard a crash, and the silence since has been deafening. "Jingmei, are you okay?"

You hear tiny giggles and a playful bark. Thank the archons that she's okay. On that note, where is Zhongli? You creep into Mei's room, only to find her with bows on her horns that match Amber's collar. She giggles again. "Mama, look! Me and Amber are matching!"

You smile. "I see that, honey," You pick her up, hugging her tight against your chest. She's growing so, so fast, and it scares you. "You look amazing."

Jingmei having horns was a shock to your system. They sprouted one night when she was three, and since then, they appear whenever she's tired or really, really excited. Even Zhongli was surprised by it. "I don't know," he said when you asked why this was happening. "Archons having children with mortals is rare. I suppose it's like half-adeptus children, but I can't be certain." He pulled you to him and kissed your hair. "Stop worrying, love. She's healthy and happy. That's all that matters."

"Thank you, mama," she grins a toothless grin at you, and slides out of your hands, pulling you down with her.

"Mei, where's your father?" you ask her. She leans closer to you conspiratorially, pressing her forehead against yours.

"We're having a princess party. He's getting changed."

"Into a princess dress?" you ask, widening your eyes in excitement. Jingmei simply shrugs.

"I don't know. But he said I can decorate his horns." You chuckle to yourself, Zhongli doesn’t know the word ‘no’ when it comes to you, your daughter, or your dog. It makes you laugh that a whole archon gets bossed around by women when he gets home. "Mama, why don't you have horns?"

You'd been waiting for this question. Jingmei is an observant child--she gets that much from her father--it was only a matter of time before she questioned your lack of horns, and you'd been practising what to say. You considered running it by Zhongli, but you had a feeling he'd say the unfiltered truth--which you suspected would be too much for her to handle.

"I'm not special in the same way you and your dad are." You say softly. "You get your horns and magnificent hair from him, and your pretty smile and clever mind from me." In all honesty, Jingmei is more him than you in terms of appearance--sometimes people don't believe you are her mother, especially if they don't know Zhongli. But the minute she opens her mouth, everyone knows that she's yours. She's as eloquent as you are, quick-witted, and sometimes a little stubborn. And you love her for it.

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.” JIngmei smiles widely, throwing her arms around your neck enthusiastically, almost knocking you over in the process.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smile, littering her cheeks with kisses until she’s giggling uncontrollably.

"Jingmei, I'm afraid none of your mother's dresses fit me," Zhongli's voice trails in from outside. "I hope my makeshift dress will do." He walks into the room, with the blanket from your bed draped over his silk pyjamas. You and your daughter both burst into laughter, so much so that Zhongli almost blushes.

"What are you two laughing at?" He scowls, pulling you both into a hug, and gracing Amber with her obligatory head pats. She yips happily.

"Nothing," you both giggle.

Zhongli huffs, sinking onto Jingmei’s bed. He glances at his daughter’s makeup supplies from across the room. If he’d known he was going to be her only model, he’d have bought some less bright colours. “I suppose I should stay true to my promise.”

“Mei-mei,” You smile brightly, glancing at Zhongli with playful mischief. “How about I let you use some of my things today? Prince Papa deserves the best, no?”

Jingmei jumps up. “I’ll get it!” She giggles as the runs out of the room, Amber bounding happily behind her.

“How does she know where my make-up is?” You ask Zhongli lightly, sitting beside him and running your hands through his hair. He chuckles, leaning his head into your hands.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve used your makeup, love.”

“What?”

“It’s been at least a year and a half,” he says shamelessly. “We did ask you. Admittedly, you were half asleep, but you did say yes.”

You scowl at him. “I sure hope you don’t apply that logic to anything else.”

Zhongli laughs. “I don’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask for.”

“Yeah, hence why we have a four-year-old,” You scoff. He’s nothing but a big liar.

“If I remember correctly, you asked for that too.” You scowl at him even more—if that’s even possible—and gently slap his arms.

“Don’t say things like that when Jingmei’s around.” You hiss. “Especially when they aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” He smiles, drawing you closer to him. “I’m not in the business of spreading misinformation. You know that.”

You roll your eyes at him as Jingmei comes storming back into the room. “Found it!” She smiles happily. “Are we group hugging?” She says, glancing between you and her dad. She puts the makeup on the floor and barrels into the both of you, stretching her little arms out as far as they go.

She may not have the words to express it, but growing up in a house so full of love makes her want to show that love to whoever she sees—be it a bug she sees out in the wild, a new friend, or simply just her parents.

“Jingmei, darling, you’re prodding me with your horns.” Zhongli chuckles, trying to sit up. But the little girl insists on staying put, her grip on you both tightening.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Zhongli retorts. It sometimes throws you off to see how easily he switches out of his usual formal manner of speaking when it comes to his daughter. It seems he does the opposite to you sometimes--you swear he uses bigger words just to confuse you.

Amber yips excitedly and launches herself onto you, offended that she’s been left out. Zhongli chuckles to himself. He never thought this kind of life would suit him. He thought he was destined to live life on his own, detached from the rest of the humans he watched over. He’s grateful for you and his daughter because you made the decades of solitude worth it, and he’ll savour every minute he has with the both of you. And Amber.

an: i spent half an hour on a name website to try and find a traditional Chinese name that had something to do with crystals, and this was the best name i could find, but if it's actually a curse word or something I think I'll just cry

[ceruleanmindpalace]

My first Inktober Post for 2022.

Sorry if it is a bit odd, but... I couldn't help but wonder if a sorcerer pukes clouds of magical rainbows. So this happened. Feel free to hate it, I am not sure I like it.

Whumptober prompt no. 1: Adverse Effects /This wasn't supposed to happen

Ink on grey cardboard, A4, background and rainbow clouds added digitally.

Feel free to reblog but don't put my art on other sites / social media without my written permission.

[nanaminokanojo]

Winners and Losers

CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 CHARACTERS: Sakusa Kiyoomi X You | Haikyuu Characters (mentioned) WORD COUNT: 8,600+ GENRE: enemies to lovers | university au | fluff | you/reader fic CONTENT WARNING: strong language | some suggestive language | mentions of sickness SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

You stared at the piece of white paper posted on the bulletin board in disbelief. Your eyes could see and read what was written on it, but your brain refused to register the words.

The results were out and the paper you were reading contained the ranking in the project funding audition the school held recently. There were only five names listed. You saw yours. However, it wasn't written on the blank where you hoped it would be. Instead, the name of the person you wished wouldn't make the cut was there.

That's quite stupid. Why did you ever think you'll be in the number one spot? Why did you ever think that person wouldn't make the cut? WHY DID YOU THINK YOU WOULD EVER WIN AGAINST THAT PERSON?

His name was written in bold letters like a slap to your face. And then there was your name on the next line. Again.

"I won," that familiar, quiet, deep yet irritating voice said from behind you, casting a shadow that loomed over you and the board. He clucked his tongue, the sound muffled by the black facemask he was wearing, and then you felt his hand on your shoulder, applying quite some pressure.

"Second place. L/N Y/N." He chuckled briefly, the sound seeming uncharacteristic to his person. "You seem to have a deep-rooted love for being second best."

You side-stepped and inched away from him, regarding him with a dramatic eye roll. You can't argue with him this time. The two of you had a deal. It wasn't a big thing when you decided to strike it with him but now that you’ve lost, it's a different story altogether.

You sighed. You’re actually confident you'll win this round's auditions, but after overhearing the comments of the judges about his number, you knew you’ve fail miserably. Hell, one of the best in the panel of professors appointed by the academe you were both aiming for called his performance 'mentally orgasmic'. What did you have against that when all you heard was 'exceptional' from them?

Ninety nine to ninety eight percent. Crazy, but that one point made all the difference. He won, you lost.

"Congratulations," you said, admitting defeat and also inwardly praying he'd spare you from your deal. You’ve got to do the former because he really is a monster when it comes to academics, not just in that but in almost everything he does. However, out of all the things that he does, studying is what embodies his passion. It's like seeing an extension of the real him, separate from the archetypal image everyone knew him with – silent, brooding, hiding his utter ruthlessness behind that mask which you thought he only uses to fend others off as opposed to the impression that he was a hypochondriac. It makes you want to puke rainbows and cry blood at the same time whenever you witness him dishing his brains out.

He narrowed his eyes at you, those cold, dark vortices making you freeze especially so when he brought his mask down. For some reason, when he spoke to you, he always did that but spoke through it even when he was talking to teachers.

"Did you… Hmm. I think I heard wrong. The L/N Y/N actually congratulated me," he said in that quiet, indifferent way that always set you on edge. He had this quiet, gentle air about him which always hid something sinister just beneath the surface. Yes, he looked so damn beautiful with that perfect head of raven curls and severe yet gorgeous looks, but underneath, he’s a demon who preys on people’s fears and weaknesses.

"Sakusa," you stated with a heavy sigh as if uttering just his name put an invisible weight on you. "Don't start."

Kiyoomi flashed that annoying smirk which seemed to be only known to you as your classmates and friends didn’t seem to think he was capable of any other expression apart from being bored which they chalked up to his higher brain capacity. He then took a step towards you. To anyone who wasn’t the wiser, it would look like he’s being nice, merely conversing with you. That’s how his image is to everyone – the ideal youth dream who could do no wrong, given his outstanding, full, blue-merit record even if he is a grade-A haughty prick.

"You're not trying to get away from our little agreement, are you?" he teased, gently running his fingers through the length of your hair. How his hand got there was a total mystery. All you knew is that you stopped breathing the moment he did so.

Damn you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

The blood in your veins was boiling, but you concealed that fact by replying concisely without emotions. "Of course not. A deal’s a deal." In truth, you were dying to bail on him, but knowing him, you didn’t have a way out of it. It’s your fault for striking a deal with the devil himself.

He grinned, that slow smile spreading from one end of his mouth to the other, rendering you motionless, staring up at his face like an idiot and feeling like you swallowed whole chunks of ice. He blinked then, letting go of your hair, his left eyebrow rising slightly.

"Good. I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow." With that, he walked away, leaving you dumbfounded as always.

**

How exactly do you go about with Sakusa Kiyoomi? You can summarize that human in three things, but it would only be an attempt as he had always been more than that, always more than what meets the eye, always more than what he lets on, but to you, he’s just these three things.

First, he’s that kid you knew since you were young but never really got directly involved with until the two of you went to high school where the pair of you had almost all of your classes together. Well, your parents were friends with his dad, you met each other in some occasions back then, but you never really spoke to each other. He wasn’t much of a talker or so you thought since he loves to torment you with his words, which brings you to your second definition of Sakusa Kiyoomi: he’s your arch rival.

He’s been your seeming nemesis from the beginning. He just used to stare at you all the time without the decency to look away when you catch him doing so. He would do it blatantly and when he knew you’re already squirming like an insect under a microscope, being pulled apart by the wings and legs, he’ll relent and smirk at you. It’s like you’re this little puzzle he can’t seem to figure out or maybe he’s just ridiculing you in his head. The latter is more likely. It wasn’t as obvious as now, but you do have the hunch that this competition has been going on since the moment you knew of each other’s existence. There’s always that same kind of tension whenever your eyes would meet. It’s crazy since you were both so young then, but in your heads, you were enemies, rivals in everything.

But… there’s a big BUT! You’ve realized that everything you can do, he can do much, much better and it always is the case. You’ve realized that when you entered the same middle school he studies at. He was a year older than you are, but you got accelerated to his grade, skipping seventh grade altogether.

You were quite smug about that to him, taking in the look of surprise on his face when he first saw you entering his class back then, but of course, he just smiled deviously at you from where he sat and never spared as much as a glance at your direction ever since.

You thought you were actually doing great being in the same ranks as him, but really, it just made things worse for you especially since he always comes out on top. Just when you thought you’re a step ahead of him, he’s ten steps away from you to the finish line.

And lastly, he was the person who instilled fear in you yet you can’t help but be drawn towards him. Sakusa Kiyoomi, you’re afraid of him in all sense of the word. It’s like everything he says to you is a threat. A simple word from him means a lot of things especially because he doesn’t speak much, but when he does, it’s always with a purpose. He speaks in that unnervingly gently manner and that heart-melting voice wasn’t helping at all. He wasn’t big on actions nor was he expressive. His face always has that same bored look as if he’s just about to pass out on everything, but those soft, lethargic eyes were made to deceive and seduce, expressing a lot and nothing at the same time even behind those stupid facemasks.

You really hated that habit of his, which you noticed he only does towards you. At times, when you attempt to do something and excel at it (which he’s already good at), he would give you that challenging look, his brows rising a fraction as if he’s silently saying, “Alright, people, let’s give the floor to L/N Y/N and watch her fail.”

He only talks a lot when he’s arguing with you and most of the time, you lose because of that relaxed look about his face that would sometimes escalate to a full-blown grin that plucked at your nerves one by one, either making you angry or just making you feel like a goddamn loser. There’s always that taunting look in his eyes, and when he sees you wavering, he’ll nod as if he was affirming your thoughts of failure. You, on the other hand, always lose your temper and always end up saying too much to him which he would then use against you when he finds it convenient.

When things are really serious or if he is on hyper drive to annoy the hell out of you, Kiyoomi would be towering over your form, curse his height, motioning to touch you with those beautiful, slender fingers with an unfathomable look about his face. You’d always flinch away whenever his cold fingers would make contact with your skin. That’s also when he would withdraw his hand and walk away after flashing your with what seems to be a pained look.

Those incidences are becoming more frequent recently and he would go all touchy-feely which would then freak the hell out of you enough to send you running for your life. You’ve come to realize that one time when you noted that he kept visiting the school infirmary which you avoided like the plague because of the university doctor, and one time, when you met there by accident, he motioned to touch your cheek but withdrew, then again, he flashed you that expression as if you’ve murdered his family.

Kiyoomi is very subtle, but he makes sure to leave a dent in everyone’s consciousness… especially yours.

You’re quite afraid of him, but you can’t help but be near him at the same time. It’s not your choice, but at the same time it is. Circumstances dictate that you should be with him, and volition also dictates that you should be around him because then, you didn’t think your day would be complete or that your achievements are validated enough if he wasn’t there to see it. It’s a weird relationship where you desire to prove yourself to him quite desperately while he torments the shit out of you.

Or maybe you’re a deranged masochist after all and an idiot who likes to court danger. You’ve always thought that Kiyoomi is that psychotic guy who would kill you brutally in the future after he’s done toying with you – you’ve had nightmares about that. But despite the uneasiness, you feel thrilled and alive whenever you’re around him. He’s always something you look forward to, beating him, that is. You guessed, despite the fact that he seems bored with you, you can never get bored of him until you actually win against him.

You’re probably obsessed with the notion of defeating him, while he’s telling you off subtly because his message can’t seem to make it through your unusually thick skull, well, based on his standards.

You were afraid it just got worse recently. He stepped his game up in this little act of intimidation he would play with just a slight change in the arrangement of his facial muscles as long as his eyes were on you. It was as if your brain would stop working once he locks eyes with you. You’re afraid the effect of those looks has become even more potent after that little incident at the library.

Honestly, you don’t know what the hell his deal was that day. It used to be that you were the one bugging him, not the other way around, but when you’ve got yourself convinced that you can never win against him and that you’re over it, he does what you did to him in the past – challenges you.

“I bet you can’t do it,” he said with that sarcastic smile of his.

You scoffed at him, thinking him ridiculous since he did not even tell you what his challenge was and he was already telling you that you are not able to do it. Wanting to prove yourself to him, of course, you jumped the trigger and said that whatever he tells you, you can do.

“Then kiss me,” he said out of the blue, pulling his mask down. “That’s my challenge. Can you do it?”

You blinked at him. There you were quietly sitting and doing your work, and he dishes out something like that. “Kiss you? What kind of challenge is that?” You snorted. It was stupid, really. “Are you that touch-starved?”

He stood up from his chair and stalked towards you then. The moment he was near enough, he turned your chair so it was facing him, trapping you between his arms. “So,” he arched a brow, again with that same taunting look. “Can you?”

“What the hell –”

“Because I can if you’re too much of a chicken to do it.” He smirked as he inched closer.

You leveled your expression to his. “Is that all? Seriously, Sakusa, what do you think of me?” Without warning, you turned tables on him, seizing his arm and pushing hos bigger form down the chair instead. With eyes wide open and all the guts you could muster, you leaned forward swiftly, touching your lips against his own.

He froze, probably not expecting you to do it at all, but his shock and your victory soon ebbed away and you felt him smile underneath your lips. Kiyoomi leered. “You call that a kiss?”

You straightened up, surprised that your emotions and thoughts were not a chaotic mess. You were pretty calm for someone who just gave your first kiss away to the person you hated the most. Idiot. “What do you think of yourself, a lucky bastard? What makes you think –”

He arched a brow at you, tilting his head to the side. “You’re incompetent in so many levels, L/N Y/N.” He also stood up and again, reached over with his fingers, leaning closer until your noses were nearly touching. His eyes strayed to your lips as he leaned even closer. That’s when you bolted out of the room.

He acted like nothing happened after that and challenged you again to another competition, the same one which brought you to the present – nervously staring at your phone, particularly at a message he sent telling you to get to his house on your own because he can’t come pick you up.

Kiyoomi did not live anywhere near your neighborhood. He lived in the suburbs and you weren’t really sure where the hell to find his house since you haven’t been there for ages, but then, he texted you the address and saw that it was located a few blocks from your place, an condominium complex to be precise. You didn’t know he moved out of his family house.

You found yourself standing in front of the door which had the number of the unit in gold inlays above it. It was a good hour and a half after your supposed meeting time, but you really couldn’t care less what he would think of the fact that you’re late. You’re too busy lamenting the fact that you’re spending a Saturday with him.

You knocked, but he did not answer. You tried again, but all you got was silence. Damn everything, if he was playing tricks on you, you would really kill him. You knocked again, but you got the same result. That’s when you decided to call him. You heard his phone ringing from inside the unit. You frowned, keeping the phone ringing.

“Sakusa!” you called then you heard a low groan from somewhere inside. Thinking that he was just sleeping, you knocked louder on the door, but you heard nothing after that. A sense of dread assaulted you as you reached for the doorknob, which was, surprisingly, unlocked. You went inside the unit, looking around the sterile white walls and grey carpet. It looked like an office. Very fitting to its owner.

You’re not even surprised to see that knowing Kiyoomi’s personality, but the dread you felt became worse when you saw an outstretched arm on the floor, sticking out from a door at the end of a short hallway. A few inches from it was Kiyoomi’s phone.

“Sakusa!” You rushed breathlessly towards the room. As you were expecting, he was unconscious on the floor, looking pale. You kneeled beside him, feeling for a pulse. There was but he was out of it. On top of that, he was burning.

You raised his head to your lap, shaking him slightly. “Sakusa, are you with me? Hey, Kiyoomi?” You started muttering expletives under your breath when he didn’t respond quick enough, your brain already conjuring the worst.

He just groaned, his head lolling limply to the side. You had to hold him against you as you dialed for an ambulance, but then you felt his cold fingers closing around your wrist. His eyes were open and he was shaking his head.

“What the hell happened to you?” Your voice came out high-pitched.

“P-passed out…” He blinked, breathing shallowly. “I’m okay.”

You made a face at him, quite shaken by the fact that you thought him adorable just then than the fact that he looked almost dead with that pale complexion. You’ve got to admit you love seeing him weak, but you weren’t a sadist who reveled in the pain of others and he wasn’t an exception.

“No, you’re not. Let’s get you to the hospital.” You motioned to stand up, but he stopped you and shook his head no with that stubborn expression he always has whenever you are debating about something.

“It’s just a fever.”

“Which could be a symptom to something else.” You helped him up. The moment you were successful at wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you were met by that natural scent that lingered about him. It made you feel so at home for some reason, eliciting nostalgic memories from your childhood. It was another thing that probably drew you to him. He reminds you so much of good days. The irony of it.

You led him to his bed, which was tidy. In fact, it did not even look like he slept on it. You sat him down and he immediately collapsed on the mattress. Just then, your eyes fell on the desk at the far end of the room. The lamp was on with a thick book open under it.

“Did you even sleep?” you asked, not really expecting an answer as you shifted your narrowed eyes from the desk to his direction. You scoffed at that, knowing that he will not satisfy you with an answer.

He rolled his eyes and sported that bored look again before closing them. “Don’t dare call an ambulance or I swear I’m gonna make your life a living hell.”

“Funny. I thought you’re already at it.” You shook your head, suddenly feeling stupid that you had to blurt out your thoughts. You smirked at him and approached his nightstand, staring at his still figure on the bed, his head turned towards the other side, but your mind was focused on the landline. “Might as well.”

His head snapped to your direction when he heard you pull the receiver off of the cradle. “What –”

You dialed the emergency hotline and raised the receiver to your ear, satisfied to hear the first ring when suddenly, everything went silent after you heard the harsh sound of something being pulled and torn from the wall.

You turned to face Kiyoomi, his body bent off the edge of the bed as he held the wire connected to the phone itself. He slowly looked up and glared at you. He was that desperate not to get into an ambulance.

You dropped the receiver and took your phone out instead, but he lunged forward and seized the device from your hand, holding it away from you as he laid down on the bed, eye intent on you, his breath snagged and shallow after all his exertions.

“Seriously? You chose the wrong time to be arguing with me about getting into an ambulance, you annoying brat!”

“What did I tell you?” he whispered shakily, placing a hand over his eyes in frustration.

You smirked at him. “You have another phone outside.” You were about to make your way out of the room when he seized you by the waist, making you sit down on the bed just by his side. His arm was around you, firmly holding you into place. You struggled to get away from him, but he was strong despite his state.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

He didn’t say anything, caging you in his arms.

“Let’s just call your dad.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll call our family doctor.”

“No!” He breathed out noisily, conveying his annoyance towards you. “You’re not getting me into such a stupid-looking car.”

“I’ll drive you if you want.”

“Don’t want to move…”

There was really no sense arguing with such an incorrigible person, especially not Sakusa Kiyoomi. You wonder why you even try, knowing for sure he couldn’t be swayed to do otherwise once he sets his mind on something. It was getting frustrating.

You took his arm off of you, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let go.

“Ugh! Clingy much?”

He leaned his head at the base of your neck without saying, his breath coming out in warm batches, making you nervous.

“Fine. You said you’re okay, right? I’ll just leave,” you told him, feeling guilty, but masking it well. To your surprise, his eyes widened and his grip on you started to resemble that of a boa constrictor securing its prey. Fear etched its way across his face, his eyes watering to the brim.

“NO! No…” He was hyperventilating after making an effort to get up and hold you down. “Please…Y/N…don’t leave me…”

Damn, is he even aware of what he is doing right now? Well, his state made you panic, too. It’s just so weird. “O…kay.”

His eyes were still on you as he hesitated to lie down again. He handed you the phone. “Call Iizuna instead.”

You arched a brow at him. “Iizuna Tsukasa? The school doctor?”

He nodded, closing his eyes. “He’ll come for sure.”

You frowned. You never really liked that person. You just stared at him even as he was handing you the phone until he opened his eyes and asked you if there was any problem. You shook your head and immediately dialed the doctor’s number.

After a few rings, the school physician answered the phone and told you he will come in a while after you’ve explained the situation. It puzzled you how he seemed to understand what was going on immediately without much questions.

Setting the phone down and removing your coat, you realizing that you were also still holding your bag. You preoccupied yourself by preparing the necessary things you would need to lower Kiyoomi’s fever, and of course, you had to assure him you weren’t leaving.

There were a plethora of pills in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but thankfully, you found something that would help, including a cold pack already frozen in his freezer. You couldn’t help but wonder if he always got sick or if he already had a preexisting condition.

When you came back into his room, he was out cold, breathing shallowly and sweating profusely. His button up shirt which he wore over a white undershirt was soaked by the time you were done, so you decided to wake him up.

“You gotta get changed,” you told him, handing him a blue body-hugger you found inside his closet, which was, by the way, arranged by kind and color. Talk about being a neat freak.

He opened his eyes, staring blankly. “I c-can’t…”

You made a face at him. “You can stay up all night reading about quantum physics and you can’t change your shirt?” You scoffed. “Did you purposefully call me here to be your maidservant for the day?”

He nodded, holding his head down, his ears becoming red. “I’m sorry.”

“If you really are then you will change your shirt on your own.” You handed him said garment.

Kiyoomi motioned to take his upper garments off, starting with the black button-up he was wearing. He was successful albeit slow, but the moment he got to his undershirt, he struggled with just getting it over his chest and gave up, looking at you helplessly.

“I really –”

You glared at him for a moment and removed the shirt from him, taking over from that point on. All the while, you avoided looking at his face. You were in the middle of mopping off perspiration from his back when someone suddenly spoke from the direction of the door.

“You’re this weak, huh?” It was the doctor.

You merely glanced at the doctor who was eyeing you cheekily before putting Kiyoomi’s shirt on him before hurriedly helping properly tuck Kiyoomi in bed as you explained the circumstances to Tsukasa. You spoke without even looking at him once and he didn’t say anything about that. You guessed he just reminded you so much of your mother, and having a pair of eyes in school, and now at Sakusa’s house, on you that resembled her made you antsy. They were siblings anyway, the youngest child in the family to be precise, and he was that estranged uncle you did not really know or like even when you were younger. Your dad doesn’t like him either and you never knew why, but looking at matters now, you didn’t exactly hate him. He was just strange.

You bowed after that and prepared to leave the room, but Kiyoomi, curse him to the pits of hell, held you back and told you to stay to which you shook your head. “Doctor Iizuna will check on you now and it’s not like I’m going anywhere farther than your living room.” What’s with him and being all too clingy today?

The older male smiled at you then. “You may stay, Y/N.” He set his bag down by the bed. “We’re all family here anyway.”

You cringed inwardly.

The doctor chuckled then. “The patient wants you here.” He smirked at Kiyoomi then. “Let’s not make him snap, shall we?”

Kiyoomi glared at your uncle’s direction, but gave you instructions to sit on the chair in front of his desk nonetheless.

Tsukasa began a series of tests, asking this and that. Kiyoomi answered impatiently, showing covert hostility towards the former with clipped answers. Now that you’re watching them interact, you think they have the same personality. Just what did Kiyoomi have to do with your mother’s brother? Maybe your family ties were closer than you’ve expected.

“It’s the same case,” the doctor said after a while. “Fatigue and mild arrhythmia…but…”

Arrhythmia? Your eyes landed on Kiyoomi who pretended not to notice your questioning look as he addressed your uncle. “But what?”

“There are so many things I do not know about you as of late,” Tsukasa suddenly said as he was fixing things inside his bag. He glanced at you. “I didn’t realize how much my niece has grown.”

“You’re not exactly ten years, my senior, Doc,” you remarked off-handedly.

He took that good-naturedly then looked at Kiyoomi with an arched brow. “And I did not know you are dating my niece.”

You made sport of the way Tsukasa referred to you.

“I’m not,” Kiyoomi said reluctantly after flashing a hostile look at your direction.

“Then what’s with the insistence for her to stay?” He chuckled. “Quite desperately, too.”

“Uncle,” you interrupted rather firmly, arching a brow at him as you stood up, motioning with your head for him to follow you outside. Although he was annoying the hell out of you by implying that you had a relationship with Kiyoomi, you were keener on knowing what is wrong with him. The doctor was being careful when he said it was ‘the same case,’ and you did not miss how Kiyoomi looked at him.

After bidding Kiyoomi goodbye, Tsukasa followed you out of the room. You closed the door to the bedroom and walked him to the door, asking him about Kiyoomi’s real condition.

“He pretty much suffers from fatigue all the time, balancing his studies and training at his father’s company. He's also showing signs of an imminent cold on top of the usual suspects,” the doctor said.

“Arrhythmia? That concerns itself with the heart, right?”

“Yes, but nothing to worry about. It’s not bad. He’s just always on his toes these days.”

You almost laughed at that. Kiyoomi? On his toes? Why? Of course, you uncle did not fail to notice that and arched a brow at you. He works for the university and yet he doesn’t know what the hell is going on between you and his patient. Of all the things, he suspected that you were dating.

You cleared you throat. “He’s not sick, sick, is he?”

“No. He’s sick somewhere else.” He laughed, but cut himself short when you eyed him quizzically. Obviously, you did not get the joke. He also cleared his throat. “Look, Y/N, I do not know what my sister and your father told you about me, but I’m not so bad.”

“I know. I just don’t…” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

“Don’t call me that. Just Tsukasa is fine.”

You didn’t say anything, suddenly embarrassed about how you acted around him for the past decade.

“It’s obvious you don’t want to have anything to do with me.”

Shrugging, you met your uncle’s gaze for the first time. “That’s the thing. They didn’t tell me anything. I guess we’re just not close and nobody really talks about you.”

He chuckled then, putting on his coat. “You take after your father. Thank goodness you look like my sister.” He patted your head then, withdrawing his hand when you flinched. He eyed you apologetically. “Anyway, please stay with Kiyoomi. He’s not really going to be able to fend for himself today. Just lower his fever when it spikes and give him cold meds. He’s just tired.”

You nodded. “Will do.”

The doctor left after that and you found yourself silently making your way back to Kiyoomi’s room. You found him lying on his side, watching as you entered through the door. He didn't say anything even as you touched his forehead to check if he was still running a fever. He was, so you just took Tsukasa’s advice and decided to stay with him. It wouldn't hurt once. Besides, Kiyoomi owing you sounded beyond interesting.

"You still have fever.”

"You have a knack for pointing out the obvious, too," he commented, looking like he was about to laugh but then started coughing instead.

On instinct, you sat down beside him and started tapping his back. You honestly didn't know what to do so you just did what you know, but he held your hand away. "You might catch my germs," he said when he has calmed down.

"Right." You stood up then, keeping your distance.

"You don't have to be that far," he griped.

Your chuckled nervously. "For good measure?" He rolled his eyes at that. Normally, you would have thrown a shoe at him or something, but he's sick and you’re not that cruel. "Do you want anything?"

He shook his head as he adjusted his position to a more comfortable one.

"I guess you better rest then."

"I will on one condition."

Here we go again. "What condition?"

"When I wake up, you should still be here."

"Seriously?" you snickered at that. He's such a silly person right now.

"Just agree for once, will you?" he said breathlessly. "You're mine for the day, remember?"

That's a nice way to put it. You shrugged and pulled his swivel chair towards the bed then. "Alright. Just rest already."

For the first time that day, Kiyoomi smiled before closing his eyes.

***

For the rest of the day, you stayed by Kiyoomi's side, running here and there to get him whatever he wanted. It was oppressive. After he went to sleep, you called your mother and asked her what you should do with him, mentioning that her dearest brother had been rather vague about the instructions he had given you.

'Why are you obligated to care for some sick person? You should just leave whoever that is under the care of a professional. It's not like you're good at anything concerning the household anyway, much less taking care of a sick person.'

"Wow, thanks, Mom. It's not like you trained me to be actually good at anything else apart from academics!" you retorted, exasperated. "Sakusa and I are supposed to do something else, but he's sick."

'Kiyoomi? Our Omi-Omi?' Her tone suddenly changed. There was that, too. Your mother had nothing but good words to offer where Kiyoomi was concerned. If she doesn't keep pushing you towards the guy, you would have thought she had a huge crush on him. You can't go anywhere to have fun unless you tell her that Kiyoomi would be there.

“Yes, Mother.”

'Take good care of him. I'll e-mail you the instructions. My dear daughter, you should do your best to nurse my future son-in-law back to perfect health. Poor guy.'

"Mom!"

'Don't shout. You will upset him!'

"I'm not even in his room so I can shout all I want. What future son-in-law are you taking about? We're not even friends to begin with." You've had enough of your mother's silliness so you told her to just e-mail whatever she had to and hung up.

Ugh!

She, too, could be so irritating at times. You always lose to Kiyoomi and she wouldn't even take your side for it. 'Remember, it's okay for Kiyoomi to dominate you as long as you come as his close second,' she told you one time when you were so upset and about to throw the towel down. She's just too intent to have you marry the guy in the future like his own father was.

The instructions arrived quicker than what you've expected. It even included a recipe of porridge, but you had no intention to burn his kitchen down so you thought you should just go out and buy everything. He didn't have cooling patches either so you needed to run to the drugstore to get them. You checked on Kiyoomi and saw that he was awake, barely, but his eyes were open.

You stood by his bed and leaned down to check his temperature. He was still too warm. When you were sure that he was aware of your presence, you said, "Hey, I have to go out for a while to get some stuff for you."

As soon as the words left your mouth, he broke into a fit of panic, his dark eyes becoming wide as a mix of resentment and horror etched its way across his face. "No!" he wheezed and pulled you down on the bed. You fell right on top of him, about to get up, but he held you down.

"Ki – Sakusa! I c-can't breathe…" You struggled to get up from the rather awkward position since your face was technically buried against the crook of neck which was slightly moist with sweat. Surprisingly, he smelled so good, like mint and autumn leaves with a hint of rubbing alcohol. What were you thinking? You tried to get up again and only stopped struggling when he finally spoke.

"You can't leave me…" he all but whispered, his hold on you becoming a tad slack, but he was still applying force to keep you with him. "Y-you promised. We had a deal."

"Okay, I get it, Sakusa. Can I at least get up?" you asked, raising yourself slightly, but he shook his head. "You'll leave me if I do."

God, you couldn’t handle his stubbornness. He was worse than a kid throwing a tantrum. "You're being a pain right now. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

"You're just saying that," he mumbled against your cheek, the way his mouth made contact with your skin making you panic. "You will leave me the moment you get the chance."

"What are you saying?"

"I heard you. You said we're not friends." He's actually sulking over that, but if there was something you couldn't do, it was to lie to him. You relaxed a bit, taking the liberty to ruffle his soft locks, smiling slightly when he leaned to your touch. "We aren't exactly friends, you know. Why would I say otherwise? Maybe you'd call me delusional if I even thought of it."

"You don't want to be with me," he accused.

That's a lie.

"After all the effort I've put in…even asking your annoying uncle for advice…"

"What?"

"Everyone wants us to be together except you."

You didn't know if he was shitting you again or if he was being serious with everything he was saying. If anything, it sounded like a confession, but given the fact that he loved to toy with you regardless of your feelings, you didn't assume anything. They weren't exactly nice words, but you somewhat felt like they were the most pleasant things he said to you.

You frowned at that and heaved yourself up to look at him, but when you did, he was already sleeping. Ah! He's in delirium, huh? You got off him and fixed his blankets, leaving him to sleep. You really had to go out and come back before he wakes up. God, he's such a pain!

You went out to pick up everything he needed when you’re sure he was asleep. Luckily, there were shops where you could get everything just a few blocks from his apartment. You returned after half an hour and prepared his food. You were in the middle of reheating the porridge when the alarm you’ve set for his meds went off. You hurriedly finished off in the kitchen and went to his room to wake him up.

Kiyoomi easily came to consciousness and obediently took the meds, but in the process, he spilled water all over his shirt and blankets. It's added work, but you took his soiled blanket and even gave him a change of clothes, but again, he needed you to dress him. You couldn't quite concentrate on the task, noticing how smooth his skin was and how he fit in the criteria of body built you wanted in your first boyfriend. You mentally smacked yourself for considering such things where he was concerned, but you couldn't help it when he's just too pretty even in his state.

"I'm sorry for making you do this," he said in frustration. "This isn't what I meant when I made that deal with you."

You snickered at that. "It's okay. Your health is more important. Besides, there's still next time," you assured him.

He arched a brow. "You mean that?"

You shrugged. "It's not like I have the power to kick you out of my house when you come unannounced, right?"

He smirked at you then. "Your parents adore me, probably more than you."

You laughed sarcastically at that. "Funny, Sakusa." You stood up and walked out of the room to get the porridge and brought it back to his room. "You have to eat."

He nodded and motioned to sit up, but he was too weak to do even that. You had to hoist him up so he could lean against the pillows and the headboard, oferring him the lap table so he could eat. He did try to lift his arm, but they fell on his sides like limp noodles as quickly as he attempted it.

"Do you need me to feed you?" you asked with a pained expression you tried very much to hide. He's sick and you didn't want him to be upset, too, because of your reluctance, but you couldn't help it after what he said earlier. He didn't seem to have a clue about the matter, too. You hated how composed he is even in such a moment while you’re just losing it all the time.

He nodded then. "Please?"

"Okay." You lifted the spoon and fed him the porridge when it was no longer too hot. It was comical. You’ve never imagined you would be in such a situation with him. He always looked capable of doing whatever by himself and yet there you were.

"How was it?" you asked as he was chewing on the last spoonful.

"Just fine," he answered, his brows knitting together. You hated it when he does that. "You're on edge," he commented then.

You dropped the spoon in the bowl with a disgusting sloppy noise. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" He grinned evilly at you then. He seemed better. "Is my presence that overwhelming?"

You glowered at nothing in particular. "You're this weak and yet you have the guts to say those things."

"I'm just physically ill. It doesn't change anything."

"Yeah, you're still an ass." You shoved the spoon into his mouth, making some porridge drip at the side of his mouth.

He grimaced then. "Look what you did!"

"Look what you made me do!" You reached for some napkin on his bedside table and wiped his mouth with it. "I'm trying my best here. Can you at least be nice to me?"

At that, he laughed weakly. "I'm always nice to you."

"Yeah, if insulting me all the time is nice."

"I don't mean to be mean all the time," he said to you and lifted his hand to touch your hair. "You're just too adorable when you're irritated. I can't help it."

You felt your face heating up. Did he just call me cute? You stared at him in disbelief when that voice in your head said yes. "You're really sick, huh?"

"I'm feeling better."

"So you say."

He rolled his eyes then. "I'm full."

You stood up and took the lap table, putting it on the floor. You gave him water then, not forgetting to hold the glass for him this time. When he was done drinking, you placed it on the tray and brought it to the kitchen, returning to his room right after to find him wrapping the blanket over his back as he sat straight against the headboard.

"Are you cold?" You rummaged through the shopping bags on the floor where you've put the cooling patches and the disposable hand warmers you’ve picked up as well.

Kiyoomi nodded, shivering slightly as he wrapped the blanket tighter around him. You took the bag and sat down before him, giving him the warmers before fixing the blanket around him. He patted the space near him, telling you to move closer. You sat beside him on the bed, tensing up when he suddenly leaned his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek.

"Thank you, YL/N."

"It's not a big deal.”

"It is to me."

You glanced at him. "Why is that?"

"Because I know you care enough to stay."

That got you to arch a brow at him. What the hell was he talking about? It wasn't as if you didn't care about him. He has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember and you are not insensitive to his presence or anything about him. If anything, your senses seemed to be turned up to eleven where he is concerned, and not that he is sick, I couldn't just be indifferent to him.

"I-it's not that…" You shook your head, unable to focus on what you should say with the way he was staring as if he was seeing right through you. The cocktail of nervousness and excitement as well as the need to prove yourself to him came rushing back again. There was just no winning against this guy even if he was just looking at you. "Do you think I don't care enough for you?"

"I annoy you, that's a sure thing. I don't necessarily see you caring for me except today."

"That's because you never gave me the chance to do that," you retorted. "Look, Sakusa, you always piss me off, and I might actually care if you just tone down a bit on that. Besides, if I didn't care, I wouldn't be here in the first place."

"So you do care for me?" he asked again, looking like he was suppressing a smile.

"Yes. What do you take me for?"

"Do you want an answer to that?" He chuckled then, but you didn't find anything funny.

You pushed him lightly, narrowing your eyes at him. You were getting frustrated. "Yes, actually I do. How exactly do you see me? God, I just want to open your skull and see what is going on inside that brain of yours!"

"You're my rival. Nobody comes close to that, but at the same time…" He sighed then and looked at you intently. "You don't really get it, do you? I mean, I actually said things to you earlier and you still don't get it."

"What?"

"Well, not every person has it all like me."

You chuckled without humor. "Yeah? You're full of yourself as always. What don't I get, huh?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. "What am I to you?"

You didn’t know what to say then. You didn't know how to answer his question. What is Sakusa Kiyoomi to you? "You're not my friend."

"No, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm not. I don't want to be your friend." He stared intently at you as he spoke as if he was making you understand something that he is not saying.

"Wow. Okay." That stung.

"What else?"

Your face heated up when you thought of it. "You're my purpose…”

“Huh?” It was his turn to be stunned.

“At least with regard to my studies." You sighed. "I can't explain it, but even if you are not my friend or anything, you give me the drive to do better. I can't deny the fact that I look forward to seeing you all the time because I know I would be able to exceed my expectations of myself by going against you. In the end, it's not enough, but you see, I like where I am now and some credit goes to you for pushing me all the time."

"I don't get it."

You shrugged. "I'm being honest here. It's not like I'm the one confusing people all the time."

"You actually do. At times you smile at me like I can do no wrong, but you would also glare at me as if you want to kill me. There are times when you say things to me but you don't mean them, or maybe you do but you make it seem like you don't. You react to me the way I want you to, but you shoot me down just as quickly. What is it really, YL/N?"

You met his gaze then. He really is handsome even if he looked sallow with sickness. "What do you want it to be?"

"I'll give that decision to you."

"It depends."

"On what?" He seemed to be vexed.

"I don't know."

His eyes turned to slits, but his words were rather contradictory. "What if I tell you I like you?"

Your ears started to get warm and that weird ringing sound invaded your thoughts as you tried to process what he said. "This is hypothetical, right?"

"No."

Your eyes almost bugged out when he said that.

"I like you, YL/N. I don't want to be your friend because I like you more than that. I liked you from the moment I saw you. You just don't see it."

"Kiyoomi, I…"

"You said my name." He smiled then, the lightest tinge of rose touching his cheeks. "You usually don't."

"I don't know why I said it either." You blinked at him. "I think I'm going to freak out now…"

You chuckled nervously when suddenly, you were pushed down on the bed, landing on his pillows which smelled so much like him. Mint and autumn leaves. The sight of the ceiling disappeared, replaced by his face dominating your line of vision as he hovered over you. You flashed him a pained look, feeling your face getting hotter like that time you ran away from him when he tried to kiss you.

"I'm asking you now, YL/N. I like you. Do you like me back?"

"No – yes, er…I don't know." You covered your face with your hands, but he pried it off. You closed your eyes but then peeked at him. "If you're not sick anymore, I'm leaving."

Kiyoomi shrugged, flexing his jaw as if his manly ego was challenged. "I'm still sick. Now answer me properly. Do you like me or not? And if it comforts you, I'm asking if you like me as a man."

"That doesn't comfort me at all."

"L/N Y/N," he hissed. God, he's scary.

You looked at him then and nodded your head slowly. "What's not to like?" you offered.

"Yes or no. I need to hear it."

"Y…" You whined then, kicking your legs underneath him. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. I was honest. It's the least you could do."

Damn it! "Fine! Yes, I like you, Kiyoomi. I do. Are you happy? You won again!"

At that, he broke into that smile that made you feel like the heavens are opening to welcome you to paradise with the angels singing in the background. He sighed and brushed away some locks of hair from your face. "Great. I don't have to go see your blasted uncle to ask for advice."

You made a face at that. "You what?"

"Lame, I know."

"Beyond that, actually."

He pouted. "Hey now! I really wanted to know more about you. Turns out he’s even more clueless."

You giggled at that, poking him on the cheek. "You're silly, Sakusa Kiyoomi."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm."

He leaned closer then, putting some of his weight on you, but before you could protest, he cupped your face with his hands and stared into your eyes then shifted his gaze lower to your lips. "Can I give you my germs?"

You froze. "N-no – "

"You hesitated." With that, he dipped his lips against yours, lightly pressing and watching your reaction. You couldn't fight it, and when he detected that, his lips started moving, coaxing you to respond. Your heart started pounding and your hands, with a mind of their own, held onto his hair, pulling him closer. His gentle manner and the taste of him made your toes curl and your mind to lose all sense of space and time. It was just Kiyoomi and you.

He pulled back before you were ready making you chase him, pressing your mouth against his, catching him off guard. He was surprised, but he responded to you in kind. This time, Kiyoomi kissed you harder, your breaths meshing until both of you couldn't breathe.

You chuckled at the dazed look about his face when you both pulled away for breath. Kiyoomi then buried his face against the junction of your neck. The tables have turned. You know you got him this time, and as if to confirm your thoughts, he said, "I've totally lost this time."

"I won, huh?"

"You always win where I am concerned, Y/N, but hey, congratulations, I guess?"

You feigned surprise at that. "I think I heard wrong," you said, imitating his tone the previous day. "The Sakusa Kiyoomi actually congratulated me."

He heaved himself up and smirked at you. "Do you want me to make you sicker?" he asked, his eyes fixated on your lips again.

You smirked at him in response, placing a hand on the side of his face. "Bring it on, Sakusa."

-end-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY FURUDATE HARUICHI’S “HAIKYUU!”. [20220623]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

*cross posted on A03

[krewssleuth]

# — wait, don't go! give my brother back!

i'm back ladiess, with a genshin au!! lets goo. it's pretty minor since i have no patience n just wanted to post. next one would be game-wise so look out! (also the headers are based on their regions) who: all what: genshin! au type: hc? idk mayn

Lore-wise Ranking —

Strength: Draco, Gold, Lunar, Funneh, Rainbow

Agility (Attack Speed + Sprint): Rainbow, Funneh, Draco, Gold, Lunar

Intelligence (Street smart + Academic): Lunar, Draco, Funneh, Gold, Rainbow

Rainbow

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Let me help you up, you sure you're alright?" 

A pickpocket born from impoverished soil. She is forever grateful for whatever she has, had, and will have. The woman roams Teyvat's seven Regions. She despises the wealthy businessmen and women, cursing them for not sharing with the less fortunate. Quick at her feet, Rainbow was never caught as she uses her skills to take from the wealthy and give to the unfortunate. She will forgive but never forget. Especially not what they did to her hometown.

Quality |  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Weapon |  Sword Element |  Pyro Body Type |  Tall Female

Voice-Overs/ Story & Combat

Chat: Memories |  Look, it's my favourite shop to get perfume! Ah. The perfume recipe for this old timer never changes... Still reminds me of Mum.

About Us: Fairytales |  ...The end. Let me tuck you in now, it's getting late. Another story? Hmm... Ugh, you're lucky we have some spare time. Okay, just one more! Then you have to take your nap, got it? Alright, here goes.

When the Sun Is Out |  Ugh, the sun makes the area too bright! Someone'll surely notice me. How frustrating.

Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion (Ascension Phase 6) |  Holy, that's a lot of money. You really shouldn't have! *sighs* Thank you. Really.

Fallen |  Thank you... for everything.

Gold

"You must be the Traveler I've been hearing of! Say, you are always referred to as 'Traveler'. What's your name—your real name?"

A runway fashion designer, she holds the title of the sweetest and kindest fashion designer out there. She came home to Sumeru and brought the idea of modern designs and her idea of slow fashion. Many youngsters admire her environmental sustainability and understanding of their style choices, unlike their elders who claim it "useless" to care for the environment through clothing. Nevertheless, she will continue to push her agenda to the public and open their eyes to the truth of fast fashion.

Quality |  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Weapon |  Bow Element |  Geo Body Type |  Medium Female

Voice-Overs/ Story & Combat

Chat: Bothering Your Mind |  Alright, I recognise those eyes. What's the matter? Do you want to talk about it? ...Stubborn as always. Come find me if you need me, I'm always free for a talk.

Character Idles |  Let's get a move on! We could be shopping or getting a bite.

Receiving a Gift: III |  Oh my god, ergh! Oh. You, made this? ...Um, it is alright, I suppose. Excuse me. *coughs* I'm gonna puke.

Heavy Hit Taken |  Ow, my arm! What the heck was that for?

Joining Party |  Oh! I just baked some pizza, want to try some? Nice and crispy, just how you like it.

Funneh

"What the heck, dude? HEY! You damn-! Stop that thief!"

The bubbly ninja of the Shuumatsuban, she is loyal and grateful to them. She was previously known as Yawane, named by staff in the Shuumatsuban. She renamed herself, finding individuality in creating her own sense of self-identity with a brand new name. She lives to prove herself worth, always being put down for her loud and fun personality which is unlike a quiet, stealthy ninja. While Sayu was the epitome of sleep, Funneh was the embodiment of wake. 

Quality |  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Weapon |  Claymore Element |  Hydro Body Type |  Medium Female

Voice-Overs/ Story & Combat

Chat: Work |  The pay's good, what more can I say? ...Um, the staff are nice? Well, at least half of 'em are.

More About Funneh: I |  To be honest, I prefer taijutsu much more than ninjutsu. Thus, many thought I couldn't do ninjutsu. It is wayyy less complicated, which is why it's my primary fighting style! Don't underestimate how easy it seems, though. I spent hours of training to have enough stamina and energy to use it daily!

Elemental Skill |  Get back here~!

Deploying Wind Glider |  Woohoo! I could get used to this. (Not recorded in Profile)

Low HP |  Someone's getting fired up... And that ain't you, trust me.

Lunar

A self-taught witch, she used to travel to Sumeru to eavesdrop on lectures given at the Akademiya. Due to her colourblindness, she almost thought she was given a Hydro vision and she would rather die due to how badly she wanted an Electro one. Lunar was so ever grateful to see that logo of the one and only Electro element, thanking the gods for getting the element.

Quality |  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Weapon |  Catalyst Element |  Electro Model Type |  Tall Female

Voice-Overs/ Story & Combat

Something to Share: Games |  I don't play games often but I really do enjoy them! Just need someone to play with me, that's all. I can't blame them though, a twenty-year-old scholar wanting to play hide-and-seek? Who am I kidding?

Lunar's Hobbies |  I do quite like drawing and doodling. Though, is it really a hobby if that is what I do all the time, besides work of course.

When It Rains |  Ahh, to just be able to lay back and draw while listening to some jazz. I envy those with flexible timing in their job. Why did I even choose such an unforgiving jobscope?

Opening Treasure Chest |  A new potion, maybe?

Sprint Start |  I'm not a fast runner, okay!

Draco

"In all my years, I have never found someone else who enjoys roaming Windwail Highland, in the night."

The man himself, the supposed Head of the Sakai clan. He fled from Inazuma ever since his father's death, refusing to face the consequences of seeing any of his indirect family. Draco wiped his old name and last name, heading to Mondtstadt to find peace. He even switched his weapon from sword to polearm. His body, mind and soul may be tenacious, but his heart still roams that forsaken mansion.

Quality |  ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Weapon |  Polearm Element |  Dendro Model Type |  Tall Male

Voice-Overs/ Story & Combat

Chat: Invitation |  Hey! You're the one who was out in Windwail that night. Would you mind joining me tonight? We could head somewhere else if you wish.

Chat: Hair |  My blonde hair? I know, hideous, right? Don't tell anyone, but my natural hair colour is black. What is it? You're making it seem obvious that everyone knew that. Am I that bad at hiding-? *coughs* Whatever... I should change it back? Well, since it is coming from you, I will certainly keep it in mind.

Ally at Low HP |  Watch it! Let me take over.

Heavy Hit Taken |  Urgh! You'll regret that.

Joining Party |  Fate has brought us together again, it seems.

[aoi-kanna]

Did you know that your art style is magical?

It can make me instantly happy in a shitty day and happier on a happy day

I'm literally puking rainbows

Every post you get better

Every drawing is more shiny to my mere mortal eyballs

YOUR ART FUCKS !👍

LOVE IT

LOVE YOU

IMA HUGE FAN

I CURSE YOU TO KEEP DOING YOUR MAGIC FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!!!! >:D

Let me tell you something: I LOVE reading your messages!!!! thanks for this Komi, you have that magic, you are an exceptional artist, you are incredibly original, and you are making my day right now!! *cries😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(*/ω＼*) I dare to send you a big hug, I wish that your days, for thousands of years, are perfect. (^人^) thank you!!

[crownedinmarigolds]

Donut, Cry, Shaved Ice for Noa

Fearful, Mousetrap, Fire for Khloe

Masks, Crown, Jeans for Parvati

Paperclip, Rainbow, Love Letter for Kolya

slcknasty asked:

eye, volcano, knife for noa! Ah thank you guys for asking!! I'll post my answers under a break because this will be long!

🍩😢🍧👁🌋🔪 - Noa

😰🪤🔥 - Khloe

🎭👑👖 - Parvati

📎🌈💌 - Kolya

~ Noa Hidalgo - Vampire the Masquerade OC - Clan Giovanni 🍩DONUT - favourite sweet treat? Noa no longer partakes in sweets after her Embrace, though it feels extremely indulgent to partake in blood while it's fresh from the vein! Inheriting the painful Kiss from her clan, which makes drinking from kine almost impossible without killing them, she normally just drinks from bags or second-hand, so it feels like an extra treat when it's a warm sip. Before her Embrace, Noa liked chili candy powder like miguelito. 😢CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily? Noa actually is very easily moved to tears, though it's usually through acts of goodwill rather than things that are sad. Receiving acts of genuine kindness or thoughtful gifts really do move her deeply. 🍧SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it? Noa was not able to rescue much from her childhood home when the Sabbat raided the family compound, so really all she has left is a locket she was wearing at the time of her Embrace, and an heirloom dagger her father had gifted to celebrate her becoming a Kindred. These items are more precious than jewels, and if anything were to happen to them, she would stop at nothing until they have been returned to her possession. If someone had stolen them, she would destroy them, simple as that. There's not much left of the Hidalgos that she knows of, and any attempt to destroy their legacy will be met with equal destruction. 👁 EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)? Noa's eyes are deep brown, nearly pitch black. By all means, a normal eye color, especially where she's from, but coupled with her stoic and watchful expression could easily unsettle someone if gazed at for too long. When she activates her bloodline abilities that tap into necromancy and the handling of spirits, her eyes go completely black - sclera and all - which of course is INCREDIBLY creepy. 🌋VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion? Noa is for the most part a slow boil temper. She has a high tolerance for a lot of things - mistakes aren't so bad, especially if the person who made it is earnest and trying. The thing that would set her most is blatant disrespect. Unfortunately, she isn't explosive immediately, she was taught to take things on the chin in the moment and to plot your revenge in secret. So those who would openly mock her or not heed her words should watch their back, lest they want to wake up to a sunrise. She may seem fine at first, but trust, she won't forget the slights made. 🔪KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame? Noa absolutely would blame herself if any injury were to fall upon those she loves most. She loves and gives her friendship so rarely, and those she would count as family - blood or no - are under her umbrella. It is a failure of hers, she believes, if something were to happen to them. She would take it upon herself to nurture them back to health, to care for them, to exact revenge for them, the works. ~

Khloe Osborne - Vampire the Masquerade OC - Clan Thinblood 😰FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"? Khloe wants to flight so badly, but Khloe also has people that need protection. Gritting her teeth, clenching her jaw, she would try and use her quick mind to fight, even if she's ready to puke. 🪤MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for? Khloe is very content outside of her coterie. Give her a cozy haven and her computer and she's fine. She was raised a humble Methodist and is incredibly happy to keep things simple and safe, so there's not much that's material in this world that she could be lured with. But she loves her boys so much, and if anything were to happen to them she would absolutely be pulled out to help them. She would and has killed for them, and if the Sheriff of Atlanta has her friends on a stage ready to publicly execute them for their crimes against the Camarilla, you bet your ass Khloe is coming in hot with alchemy and fire bombs to rescue them. Which unfortunately is probably what they want. 🔥FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self? Khloe before the accident was a bit... not cowardly, but certainly not a go-getter. She let things kind of flow by, not chasing after much and living safely but not very satisfactory. After the car accident she was given another chance, so now she's living like YOLO, finally grasping at the things she really wants in this world... though it's lead to some pretty world shifting events. Saying yes to the obsessive Nos, actively seeking her Sire even when they went to great lengths to hide themselves, attacking the Sheriff of Atlanta, etc. Her need to no longer deny herself will probably get her hurt, one way or another.

~ Parvati - Vampire the Masquerade OC - Clan Ravnos 🎭MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.? Parvati to nearly everyone appears fierce and stoic, a quiet and ruthless predator who doesn't speak and would kill the instant you're annoying. Parvati is a Brahmin Ravnos, which means she has Auspex, which grants her telepathy. She can read minds, and speak within others' minds if she so chooses, though she often does not. If she speaks aloud, it's often to match with Harri during meetings, who will purposely bring her into the conversation. With Harri in the room, she smirks, she smiles slightly, she speaks, and when he's passionate and her mind is filled with his thoughts, she feels the same. She is shameless especially with him. Harrakhty gets soft Parvati, warm Parvati, a caring one, and when they have a child together, the baby gets a mother who is good to it. 👑CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why? Parvati hasn't thought much about being remembered, being as old as she is. She has lived long past the thought of caring about what happens after she goes. Though, there are two ways her path could go that she would be satisfied with if she must choose- sitting on a blood and gold throne along with her husband as king and queen of the reborn world, as Lord Set had promised. Or, her daughter ruling alone as the queen of the new world. 👖JEANS - what is their go-to outfit? Parvati is often dressed to the nines at the behest of her beloved Harrakhty, who believes aesthetic affects the kine the most. When she's not put into gorgeous outfits, she prefers to be nude, or in a robe if she must receive company with Harri. ~ Kolya - Vampire the Masquerade OC - Clan Assamite/Banu Haqim 📎PAPERCLIP - a random fact. Kolya is a nickname of his actual name - Nikolai. He was born a Yugoslavian/Serbian Jew, and when he was a very young boy, his mother was a resistance fighter with many Nazi kills under her belt after his father had been sent to a concentration camp. 🌈RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self? Kolya would probably tell his younger self to take his mother and get as far away from Europe and Russia as he possibly could. Then he would remember the good times they had and the people he would never meet, and wonder again if that's the right choice. Then he may say to his younger self to beg that beautiful American woman to take him back to the states with her rather than do any operations behind the Iron Curtain. Then he would probably just tell him to die next to her rather than accept the promise of that goddamned vampire. 💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner? Kolya is a romantic man, but he's simply lost his will to be it after losing his partner, having to fight wars and other various conflicts, etc. He has no correspondence from the woman he loved before his Embrace because they were operatives on opposite sides of the war, and they couldn't risk exposing the other if one had been compromised. He would write mountains of poetry to her if he could, but as far as he knows, she's gone forever, and that just takes the poet right out of whatever soul he has left.