embracing my gayness and currently saving up + dreaming of a fairytale romance with Sigrid.
-> "FOR YOU TO SEE AND STILL LOVE ALL THAT I AM."
name: you can just call me Spot!
age: finally 18!
what you will see on this blog: genshin and hsr works, twst wonderland every once in a while.
current status: ON MINI HIATUS. will be returning some time in sept!
-> "AND TO WALK AMONGST THE HEAVENS WITH YOU."
be kind, be respectful, and do not force your personal opinions onto others. constructive criticism is always welcome and be sure to treat others as you want to be treated! those who break these rules will be blocked immediately.
i currently do not take any requests but if you have any writing ideas/thoughts i'd be happy to hear them all the same! just send in an ask! for ideas i may or may not write them depending on level of motivation. here's an example. (i genuinely do not know if this counts as a request if so i'm a hypocrite. overthinking is so fun.)
responses will be tagged under #replies of maroon β°οΈ!
so...hey guys! i don't know how many people will read this but i just wanted to let you all know.
i will be going on hiatus. for what reason? simple. my exams are coming up in a month and i have yet to go through three months of work. which means i have one month to catch up for three months.
why did this happen? i overestimated my management capabilities (they're nonexistent) and now i have epic amounts of backlog. i also kinda have the habit of focusing on one thing at a time w/o doing anything else so you can see where the problem is.
unfortunately, this does mean my lohen series "in the event you don't read this..." will have to be put on hold for now. but don't worry, it WILL be finished. i'm really sorry to everyone who was waiting for me to publish the next chapter, but i'm afraid it's just not possible for now. it's a failure on my part.
i know i don't usually address you all, and as you can see on my blog i don't reblog often. if i'm being honest i only follow one person on this platform and it's a very close friend of mine.
with ai, deepfakes, the potential of getting doxxed and the possibility of getting cancelled one day, all are worries that cause me to overthink each time i post on this platform. i've always strived to maintain my privacy and keep to myself on any social media platform as much as possible. this part about me is not going to change any time soon.
with that being said, i genuinely do enjoy seeing all your comments and receiving asks. they make my day in the best way possible. it's embarrassing that i've never properly thanked those who are following me as well.
i'll probably think up some kind of event but that'll have to be for later too.
i hope this reaches those who it needs to reach and i thank you for your understanding as to why i'm taking a break right now. i'm quite literally the living example of what students SHOULD NOT DO. (study hard folks. don't procrastinate.)
as they say, i've made my bed and now i have to lie in it.
by the time we meet again, it'll probably be in september when my exams end and i would already be 18. (hurray?) i hope that i can come back having aced them (wishful thinking) and report a good GPA to you all (delulu is the solulu).
once again, thank you all for accompanying me thus far in this journey. our paths will definitely cross again in that not so distant future.
you guys still remember that acting trend that was going around where people were like saying one phrase but in different tones? so for example maybe the phrase is 'i like that' but then you'd have to say it in a supportive tone then try a flirtatious one.
imagine doing that with an unc like ashveil i just think it would be so funny because the guy is half goofy half serious.
you're doing it for fun y'know? as a joke you make him say all kinds of phrases in different tones, ranging from the normal ones like 'disappointed' or 'sarcastic' to just straight-up asking ashveil to pretend to be mr. n
of course, you can never beat a master. mr. n absolutely decimates the both of you in this game.
it goes on with you laughing at ashveil's apparent struggle over some of the intonations, and you have the bright idea of getting him to say a petname in different tones because you're evil.
it can be any petname, you just want him to do it. the conversation goes:
"ashveil c'mon it'll be fun! i'll do it too!"
"hey, i'm trying to maintain some of my dignity here."
"i'll pay you if you do it."
"show me the line."
so he does and everything's going all fine and dandy UNTIL you ask ashveil to say the petname in a 'flirty' tone.
ashveil, because he's devious + charming + he wants to get back at you, puts on the most sultry and smooth voice he can and stares deep into your eyes as he calls you darling/love/UGHHH WHAT IS THIS MAN DOING TO YOU??? in the background mr. n is throwing scraps of paper around in place of rose petals. it's a whole telenovela scene.
and suddenly you think "wow hm this doesnt seem like a joke anymore how the fuck do i remain nonchalant also why was that hot" (cue the bluescreen) and ashveil is also equally as flustered, if not more than you.
in the end the both of you just brush it off with a few jokes and without thinking you're like "y'know that kinda made me feel smth. PLATONICALLY. platonically." and ashveil nods along with the vibe of "yeah ik homie same same."
like honestly c'mon who are we lying to? aha would be laughing at this.
ashveil locks himself in the freezer after and squeals like a highschool girl who embarrassed herself in front of a crush and honestly there is no difference.
just thought of smth like semi-funny while i'm drinking my cup of soy milk + tea. (its not bad trust me)
so like yk how lohen doesn't drink? so to me that means he just finds other alternatives like other non-alcoholic drinks and whatnot.
and when i mean other alternatives i mean lohen just directly drinking from YOUR cup provided whatever's in there isn't alcohol.
the scenario is that the two of you are working in a KOF office together or smth (you're working, lohen isn't.) and you have a drink sitting right next to you on the table, taking sips from time to time like any normal person.
you take about four or five sips, not really paying attention until the next time you pick up your mug and realise that the tea in there is just GONE. and it's weird cause you're certain you weren't drinking that fast.
as you're left wondering where all the liquid evaporated to, lohen peers into the cup and says:
"oh, it's empty? you should go pour some more. i still wanna drink some."
and that's when you figure out this mf's been secretly drinking from your cup the whole time w/o you knowing. every time lohen passed by your desk to pester you he's been taking sips, placing his lips to where yours touched the rim. (dude is the king of indirect kisses oml i will die on this hill.)
you look at him like "bro wtf that was my special earl grey tea blend imported from fontaine" while lohen acts all casual and goes back to whatever he was doing.
the best part abt this entire affair is that when you offer to make him his own cup lohen flatout refuses, claiming smth abt how sharing is caring and it's more romantic this way. (like dude STAWP PLEASE.)
girl why r u writing ur posts in mandarin when u speak englishπ are u a wannabe asianπ§
no twin im actually chinese LMAO. i speak both english AND chineseβοΈ(proud πΈπ¬ here)
it's actually kinda funny because i didn't really speak in mandarin as a kid cause i spoke too much english with my mom. so my grandma decided that an intervention was needed and started using only mandarin in conversation with me cause i was entering a school age.
she succeeded so well in fact that i managed to get the chance to study the language at a higher lvl! (bragging abt this)
if you don't believe me there isn't anything i can do about it but it's just some Spot lore for those who are interested.
just thought of smth like semi-funny while i'm drinking my cup of soy milk + tea. (its not bad trust me)
so like yk how lohen doesn't drink? so to me that means he just finds other alternatives like other non-alcoholic drinks and whatnot.
and when i mean other alternatives i mean lohen just directly drinking from YOUR cup provided whatever's in there isn't alcohol.
the scenario is that the two of you are working in a KOF office together or smth (you're working, lohen isn't.) and you have a drink sitting right next to you on the table, taking sips from time to time like any normal person.
you take about four or five sips, not really paying attention until the next time you pick up your mug and realise that the tea in there is just GONE. and it's weird cause you're certain you weren't drinking that fast.
as you're left wondering where all the liquid evaporated to, lohen peers into the cup and says:
"oh, it's empty? you should go pour some more. i still wanna drink some."
and that's when you figure out this mf's been secretly drinking from your cup the whole time w/o you knowing. every time lohen passed by your desk to pester you he's been taking sips, placing his lips to where yours touched the rim. (dude is the king of indirect kisses oml i will die on this hill.)
you look at him like "bro wtf that was my special earl grey tea blend imported from fontaine" while lohen acts all casual and goes back to whatever he was doing.
the best part abt this entire affair is that when you offer to make him his own cup lohen flatout refuses, claiming smth abt how sharing is caring and it's more romantic this way. (like dude STAWP PLEASE.)
a/n: i believe the song is called δΌιε―»δ»εηΎεΊ¦/"among thousands i seek him."
PHAINON:
phainon's yearning is quite literally a yearning that would last across all his cycles. it is that powerful.
from the first moment he met you in aedes elysiae's golden fields, under a tree dappled in sunlight, phainon just knew.
it's not the kind of yearning that's loud, but instead it's quiet yet bold. you can see it in his actions and hear it in his voice, that yes, phainon loves you deeply and truly.
it's also a kind of yearning that's present even when he's not around. ironically, it's akin to the sun. sometimes you can't see it, but you know it's always there.
it encompasses phainon wholly and makes him devote all that he is, every piece and scrap that he is able to offer.
it causes him to look for you in every crowd, in every street he passes through, in every battlefield he enters. no matter where phainon goes, he will always look for you.
no matter what, it has always been you.
it twists and makes his heart ache in the sweetest way possible, and all he wants is to one day have the chance to convey it all to you.
it makes phainon want to be a part of your daily life, to know if you're happy or well-fed, if you think about him as much as he does about you.
it allows him to dream of a peaceful life with you, one where the two of you would just grow old together side by side, not caring for the time slipping past each day.
however, it's a double-edged sword as well, for the flame-chase journey has never been kind to fools in love. especially for one who believes himself to be unlovable.
still, when amphoreus welcomes a true dawn and phainon meets you once again under a familiar tree, he hopes he'll finally get to talk to you properly this time.
LOHEN:
lohen's yearning is...complicated. you won't know unless he makes it obvious.
it doesn't happen immediately, but it's more of something that was built over the span of years until something clicked.
it's intense, much like lohen himself, yet almost gentle in nature when looking further into it, like casting a stone upon water and watching the ensuing ripples.
it hits him fast and hard in some regard, the longing entwining itself like vines around his heart.
when lohen yearns, he's in it for the long run. there's no doubt in his mind that you are the one he wants to be with for the rest of his life.
it frustrates him sometimes, being a guy who doesn't have many close relationships nor found a reason to create any. and all of a sudden he can't stop thinking about you.
the yearning also makes lohen more possessive, his presence practically saying "i was here first." when he sees someone approach you.
he'll be more 'present' in your life, so to speak. hanging around you more, little touches here and there, a flirt or two that almost toes the line of platonic and romantic.
at the same time, it scares lohen somewhat, having such strong feelings he has no control over and doesn't know when or if they could disappear at any time.
his yearning is one that never diminishes, however, even with such thoughts. he misses you dearly when you're not in sight, and longs to hear you when you're near.
it's the kind where you'll never have to worry about being last priority to lohen because his heart simply won't let him treat you as anything less.
all in all, lohen knows he's smitten when he finds himself re-reading all the letters you had sent to him while he was on expedition.
β‘ if you haven't seen silver wolf lvl. 999's character trailer and played the recent hsr patch, i urge you to because it's pretty self-explanatory.
β‘ HE KNOWS. blade DEFINITELY knows what you're talking about.
β‘ he literally lives with three other girls who drag him on shopping trips all the time. you mean to tell me he's never once seen a pad in all the time he's been with them?
β‘ i fully believe that blade is a pro at picking out pads because kafka, silver wolf and firefly have likely asked him to on multiple occasions. so much so that off the top of his head he remembers exactly what each girl needs.
β‘ he's the kinda guy who will just hand you a heat pad silently and walk away without explanation. meanwhile you're all confused like what???
β‘ another guy who predicts when your periods happen because he's just that in tune y'know? he has a sixth sense for them at this point, it's like a radar.
β‘ the moment you ask for pads blade is going to calmly open a full cupboard of them, all neatly arranged according to use and length and go "take your pick."
β‘ our dearest bladie is also the most compliant at this time. you want him to stay and cuddle you? alright, you're the tree and he's the koala.
β‘ you want him to give you space? okay he'll leave you alone for the whole day. just message him when you want to see his face again.
β‘ all in all, blade has a PHD in period care. dude is READY for anything you throw at him.
β‘ one more thing is that the girls have definitely sat him down before to give him a powerpoint presentation on periods and pads. (I WILL STAY ON THIS HILL AND DIE ON IT.)
β‘ blade always tries to act like it isn't a big deal that he does all this but when you hug him and call him yingxing he's gonna look away and say "unnecessary" with the smallest smile.
β‘ you have nothing to worry about. blade will take such good care of you that you'll forget you're even having the period.
"yingxing, iβ"
"the cookies are on the table. don't eat too many or you'll ruin your appetite. dinner will be ready soon."
"...did you read my mind or something?"
BOOTHILL:
β‘ "you looking for pads? sure, i can help ya look. planning on riding a horse, darlin'?" -> referring to cowboy pads.
β‘ i feel like boothill would know what periods are but he wouldn't know what women do during them.
β‘ the thought process is less of "i don't think i should be getting involved." and more of "yep the ladies' have got it covered π". but he'll still help if you ask.
β‘ it would be an extremely funny affair. just imagine boothill up to his arms with different packs of pads while on call with you so that he can figure out what to buy. every time he bends down to pick one up another falls out of his hands.
β‘ each one he raises up to the camera he asks about ten questions on and says something about if you really need that many options. the look you give him shuts him up and he never says it again.
β‘ dude reads out the names of the brands and has this confused look on his face while simultaneously trying to get it right. it's like "l-lauri...laureel??? forkin' hell, what kinda name is this?!"
β‘ and you're like, boothill, just get the damn pads. meanwhile the galaxy ranger is more concerned with trying to pronounce the names right. he's determined to, you will not stop him.
β‘ he IS the proudest mf ever after finishing the job and he brags about it. if someone asks about it boothill will just start grinning and go "yeah, i did this for my lady and i'm proud of it. what're YOU gonna do about it?"
β‘ you are going to get doted on, pampered, the whole nine yards. boothill is at your every beck and call. you are getting the princess treatment and beyond.
β‘ the petnames all come out too. 'sweetheart', 'doll', 'sugar'. in that accent of his too? mhm you're jumping his bones when you can.
β‘ just a personal opinion, but he looks like the type of guy to crack stupid jokes to distract you from the pain of your cramps. it's a 75/25 hit or miss but when he gets you, he GETS you. he's so happy about it too.
β‘ he also knows he doesn't have a filter, so he's given you the permission to hit him if he says something stupid. aim for the head, you'll hurt yourself if you hit his body.
β‘ boothill may not be the best, but he tries. and i think that's enough.
"wait, i swear i have a good one this time!"
"boothill, no."
"why are cowboys bad at math?"
"..."
"because they're always roundin' things up!"
"do me a favour and shut yourself down."
ROBIN:
β‘ the sweetest girl alive who is committed to the cause.
β‘ robin will get you the best pads money can buy because you deserve the best. yes she knows the brand you always use, but a few extras from the more pricier brands wouldn't hurt. gotta make sure her angel is taken care of!
β‘ you have to remind her sometimes not to get too carried away or else she'll spend more than she planned to. she can't help but spoil you really.
β‘ i feel like the way she chooses pads is both mindful and certain, like robin doesn't spend much time on deciding but she also doesn't go through it quickly? it's this very nice balance that makes it seem almost leisurely.
β‘ she's just a girlie shopping for pads leave her alone.
β‘ sometimes she'll find new products on the shelf and ask if you want them. even better if they come in a pair or set so both of you can try them together!
β‘ you know that thing where girls are able to sync up their periods? it happens to you both more often than not and robin is always so excited when it happens because it means you guys are suffering together.
β‘ just kidding it means robin gets to cuddle you while you're swaddled in a heap of blankets and watching Say Yes to the Dress. you are not leaving for the next 48 hours.
β‘ you'll be like "baby i can't breathe." and robin will just purr and nuzzle further into you, pressing her body against yours to savour some more of your toasty warmth. the nesting urge is real with this one.
β‘ she insists on skin care and massages as well, and warm bubble baths are a must too. robin will lather your back and you'll preen her feathers, allowing the stress of the day to wash away.
β‘ robin also lulls you to sleep with that angelic voice of hers, the singing melodious and utterly heavenly. the pain and aches all but disappear when you hear it, and you somehow feel lighter each time, a numbing haze over your mind.
β‘ the week is more bearable with her by your side.
"that wedding dress is stunning."
"it is! i adore the lace front on it. would you wear something like that, angel?"
"when we get married, sure."
"hehe, maybe it will come sooner than you think."
"um, robin?!?!"
BONUS!
THE TRAILBLAZERS:
β‘ these two will combine the half braincell they each got into one and accomplish the task. but before that they will each need to roll a nat 20 on intelligence just to be safe.
β‘ stelle and caelus bring all kinds of 'pads with wings'. examples include bicycle pads with wing motifs, seat pads with wings etc. just know that each one is more ridiculous and deranged than the next.
β‘ it's quite impressive that in the huge pile of knick knacks, there is absolutely nothing close to what you were asking for. in fact, you swear you see some living things in there...
β‘ along the way, instructions were also lost in translation as they bring pom pom to you, the conductor dressed in an angel outfit and bound by a red ribbon. they squirm and struggle as stelle flashes you a grin.
β‘ honestly, you would've been better off asking anyone else on the express than them. but i guess the power of love makes you believe in them more than you should.
β‘ in the end, you need to write a very specific list for the both of them to follow and provide a few pictures, to which caelus nods along like he understands and stelle squints to scrutinise the picture more.
β‘ when they get the job done, trust me when i say that they're ALL over you. it's an active competition between the both of them to see who is the better helper and they WILL sabotage each other.
β‘ you have to be the one to prevent stelle from choking out caelus when he 'accidentally' knocks over the cake she made for you and caelus from setting stelle on fire when she trips him up and makes him drop the pot of tea meant for you.
β‘ i like the idea that stelle and caelus are major fumblers and goofballs until they realise their actions are actually pissing you off and not helping whatsoever.
β‘ only then will they lock in and function together like a well-oiled machine, suddenly becoming the best caretakers in existence. the switch-up is crazy.
β‘ the express expresses their respect to you for being able to tame two raccoons.
"stelle, you're in the way. get your head off her thigh."
"no way! first come, first serve. get in line, caelus."
synopsis: they say poetry and letters were humanity's earliest means of expressing their thoughts. as such, will it be able to absolve the misunderstanding between you and lohen?
lohen x fem!reader, childhood friends to strangers to lovers. university au.
a/n: this is so late send help and also hopefully the text chats are okπ
tw: self-hatred (reader) and mentions of illness (lohen)
masterlist here!
chp 2: your hatred sets this lifeless heart afire.
in the past eight weeks, you've figured out three things about lohen from his letters.
one, he has a friend named illuga whom he frequently hangs out with and a senior named varka whom he challenges on a daily basis. you suspect that both have been blackmailed by lohen because you can't fathom the possibility of anyone willingly forming any remotely positive relationship with that man.
two, he's frustratingly good at switching to another subject and giving non-answers whenever you ask him about seven years ago.
three, he's part of the university's boxing club and wants you to visit him at practice one day. you wish that you could ignore it but lohen, being the detestable roach he is, has been asking in every single letter.
for five consecutive weeks, there's always some mention of "come see me wipe the floor with 'em!" or "my victory would've tasted sweeter if you were here." or "will you PLEASE come see me fight? pwetty please with a cherry on top?"
he'd drawn a chibi of him with big googly eyes for the last one. you used a pen to cross the eyes out.
it's no surprise to you that lohen chose to join such a club. when you were younger, he'd jump into any fight he could, even if he wasn't one of the kids who started it.
it didn't matter if the other person was taller, older, or sturdier than him, lohen would still barrel into them and throw punches with all his force. you still remember the time he tried to fight your father because your old man's teasings made you cry, climbing onto the table and launching himself off it to land on your father's back.
lohen had used gravity to weigh himself down, putting your father in a chokehold and causing the poor man to bend backwards while trying to maintain his balance. he only let go when you bit his arm, crying for him to stop.
his parents came knocking on your door after, apologising profusely and making lohen kneel on the ground to ask for forgiveness. instead of being furious, however, your father hurried to scoop him into his arms, a hearty laugh erupting from him as he said:
"if this rascal becomes my son-in-law in the future, my daughter will surely be in good hands!"
you think your father must've had the oxygen cut off from his brain for too long to have made that statement. he wasn't the one who had to deal with a lohen drunk on post-fight adrenaline and patch him up biweekly.
you hate it, truthfully. you hate the word 'fighting', you hate anything related it, and you hate the colours red and purple because they always appeared when lohen was hurt.
you hate how red stained your hands and the gauze you'd use to dab against his cheek, the vibrant colour smearing its trail across.
you hate how purple dotted his features, like some painter's ugly and careless mistake on an otherwise flawless canvas.
you hate how the skin on his knuckles were irritated and torn, the old bruises on his back barely faded before new ones took their place.
you hate how you insisted on him coming and going through the back door, not wanting your parents to see him in such a state.
you hate how your eyes would sting whenever you caught a glimpse of his scars or felt the hard calluses that littered his hands.
you hate how lohen still dared to smile as you cried, pleading for him to not be so reckless.
"i've gotten better at all this, see?" he'd coo, voice soft and syrupy. "been getting hurt less too."
"don't worry, i'll become so skilled that you won't even need to patch me up next time. so don't cry your pretty eyes blind."
lohen would say all that and still come back injured, the bruises and cuts and scars all fusing together to form some hideous amalgamation that seemed to grow larger each time you saw it.
"but if it bothers you so much, i'll let you draw over them. do anything you want to me." he'd say, handing you a box of those washable kiddy markers and lohen would sit perfectly still, allowing you to doodle whatever came to mind.
you'd draw flowers and vines on the days you weren't too upset about it all, and scribble out his scars on the days you felt the need to be angry at something else other than lohen.
the art, if you could call it that, barely did anything to soothe your displeasure or your worries. it'd all disappear by the time he took a shower, and anyone could tell that it was a thirteen-year-old's crude handiwork.
still, lohen glowed with pride when he looked into the mirror, the compliments flowing out of him like second nature.
a liar, he is. lohen's never cared for aesthetics. how would he know the difference between a masterpiece and a disaster?
you hate how you fell for the words of a liar.
you hate even more how you still care for said liar.
"now here's a face you don't see every day! (name), right?"
some guy calls out to you with a wide grin on his face, waving as he approaches you. you almost glance behind to see if he was greeting someone else, but upon closer inspection, you recognise him to be the man you asked to pass on your letter all those weeks ago.
tall, burly, blonde, an undeniable presence...so you actually met varka himself all those weeks ago. lohen's description of him is surprisingly accurate, even with little detail. subconsciously, you straighten out your posture.
it's an exaggeration, but you swear varka seems to grow larger as he nears you. and to think lohen pits himself against him on a daily basis? how is he still alive?!
even though his imposing stature intimidates you somewhat, you flash what you hope to be a relaxed smile.
"and you are varka, i presume? it's nice to meet you. officially, i mean! lohen mentions you a lot. thank you for helping me the last time."
"oh, don't mention it! any friend of lohen's is a friend of mine." varka laughs amicably. "he's told us all about you too. you look just as he described! you two are pen pals, huh?"
"not by choice. kind of." you mumble out, half in jest and uncertainty. the pen pal project's somehow brought the both of you closer together, or at least allowed you to feel a sense of normalcy around lohen.
you're not sure when it happened, but the meetings became more frequent as the weeks passed, and you found yourself looking forward to see him, laughing at his jokes more and reciprocating his teasing from time to time. just as you did in childhood.
the change frustrates you more than it confuses you, in the way that your brain and heart had seemingly forgotten everything when lohen apologised and asked you to give him more time.
in the eight weeks that have passed, your subconscious mind has apparently made the decision to forgive him.
should you forgive him?
you don't get to dwell more on the question as varka claps a large hand on your back, the force knocking the wind out of your lungs and making you stumble forward slightly.
"yeah, that kid has some...interesting qualities. it takes some time getting used to, but i can vouch for his character. he's a good apple, that lohen."
"though blemished on the outside, the core isn't rotten at all." you recall your father describing him as such too.
"anyways," varka continues, "what brings you here? exercise, check out the boxing club, or..."
he waggles his eyebrows up and down, his voice teasing as the look on his face turns mischievious.
"or you're here for that certain someone i just mentioned?"
"no! of course not, why would i...?" you immediately spew out, denying your intentions.
varka stares at you. you stare back at him.
eventually, you give up on lying to yourself that you are not there for lohen and admit defeat. (guess your pride can take a few hits.)
"lohen...said he had a match today. i came to support him." your mouth feels like sandpaper after your admission, the words almost foreign to hear. what exactly is lohen doing to you? first he makes you question your own resolve, and now this.
"is that so? guess he won't be craning his neck looking for you in the crowd this time!" varka chuckles. "lohen's a bit busy prepping, but you'll see him in the ring soon. in the meantime, why don't i show you around?"
the thought of refusing his offer crosses your mind just once, but you agree in the end, not wanting to seem rude. might as well spend your time wisely instead of standing around.
"i don't mind. curious to see what that guy gets up to in his free time anyways..."
"great! follow me then."
there isn't much to see apart from what you noticed when you first stepped in here. there are people milling about everywhere, either working out at various corners or chatting with their friends. weaving through a few bodies, you find yourself running a little to keep up with varka's large steps.
he's well-liked, you can tell. each person who has walked past greets with either a high-five or fist bump, and varka responds to each one with a laugh and a call of their name.
with such an easygoing attitude, the possibility of him willingly choosing to be lohen's friend doesn't seem too far-fetched now.
the two of you walk around for a while more, with varka introducing you to the various equipment and some more of his friends, before you guys decide to take a break and park yourselves near a water cooler.
"so, what do you think? pretty impressive right?"
"well, i can understand why lohen calls this his 'happy place'. ample space to fight, enough punching bags to use..."
"i bet he considers me to be one of those punching bags too." varka says the words with a certain despondence, and you let out a small cough to hide your snort. he sighs before turning to you with a sparkle in his eyes, an excited expression on his face.
"enough about me. you've known lohen since childhood, right? how was he like as a kid?"
"there's not much to say. he hasn't changed much from when we were younger, still eager to fight and annoying as ever." you don't elaborate any further after that, hoping that the answer was enough to satisfy varka.
huffing, you point your gaze towards the ceiling, as if you'd find some hint as to why life is so complicated and messy.
even if he did, i wouldn't know. the thought is left unsaid in your heart, but you get the feeling varka heard it anyway just by observing your body language. he clears his throat and continues.
"well, i can tell you're special to him. he wouldn't be spending his time writing all those letters by his own hand otherwise."
"he doesn't write by hand?" you tilt your head, confused.
varka grumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "every time i ask lohen to fill out anything, he hands it off to someone else to write. it's always someone else's handwriting i'm seeing! does he really think i can't tell?"
shaking his head, he nudges you lightly, eyes kind and comforting.
"but when it comes to you, he's suddenly so eager to grab a pen and paper! i swear, the difference is like night and day. i've caught him hiding in the locker room a couple of times scribbling away too."
something in your chest comes alive hearing his words, the heat rising to your cheeks as you try your best not to look so happy. you don't even know why you're happy.
"i didn't know that." you say softly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible, trying to concentrate more on the fact that lohen apparently avoids paperwork like the plague.
"lohen re-reads the letters you send before each match as well. i'm guessing it's like some extra motivation for him. he always looks so pumped up after and knocks his opponents down twice as fast."
varka laughs and pats your shoulder once before retracting his hand, stance gradually becoming more casual as the conversation goes on. his next words come out almost nostalgic, like a dad who's seen his son grow up and finally step out into the world.
"there's not a lot of people lohen's close with, y'know? it's hard getting him to interact with others, and he doesn't trust easily."
"being around you brightens his day a lot, and i couldn't be more grateful myself that another person is looking out for him."
"you're something good for him, (name). with you around, i won't have to worry as much anymore." his eyes seem to shine as he says so, the twinkle equal parts proud and relieved.
you're certain you're not as important as varka makes you out to be, yet you can't ignore the earnestness in his tone when he tells you of lohen's actions. you know he isn't lying.
unsure of what to say, you settle on the first thought that comes to mind.
"i'll look out for him."
varka nods, patting your shoulder once more. "thank you, really. sometimes lohen lies to me about his condition and pushes himself too far. i've had to force him to rest a few times now."
you pause for a moment, registering what he just said in your mind.
"what condition?" you ask tentatively, the surrounding noise suddenly going mute as you wait for a response.
it's varka's turn to look puzzled now. the expression causes unease to settle low in your gut. "his condition." he repeats. "you don't know? did lohen not tell you?"
your mind races through the letters and texts you've been exchanging with lohen in the last two months, but you can't recall a time where you heard a mention of any condition.
has he been hiding one from you?
your surprise must be clear to see as varka seems to realise he said something he shouldn't have. it looks like he's about to play it off, but you speak up before he can.
"varka, is lohen sick?"
"shit, he really didn't say anything. oβof course not! lohen's as fit as a fiddle!"
varka sputters and averts his gaze from yours, his confident persona now nowhere to be seen. it only makes the unease in your gut settle even more.
"you're a bit too nervous for someone claiming that everything is fine."
"it was a slip of the tongue! i was...talking about his general condition!"
"didn't sound like that toβ"
the toll of a bell interrupts you and people start to move, with the lights dimming and focused solely on the boxing ring. when you look at the stage, you spot him.
you hear varka sigh, seeing him turn to face you in your peripheral vision.
"(name), i think it's best if you heard it from lohen himself. it's not my place to say anything on the matter, i'm sorry."
as if that bastard would tell me! you want to shout and demand an answer from varka, but it's obvious he won't give you one even if you try to question him.
you take a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling through your nose, trying hard not to snap at him.
"...i understand. you don't need to apologise."
varka nods in response, wearing an apologetic smile as he starts leading you through to the centre of the crowd.
"thank you. c'mon, we need to find you a good view. lohen will kill me if i let you miss anything."
your hands are cramping up and cold sweat is beading at the nape of your neck.
you're nervous. really, really nervous. with each punch lohen's opponent swings, you glance away, not wanting to see whether the hit connected or not.
the organ in your chest squeezes and pulses with each minute the match goes on. you find yourself praying silently, hands wrung together and nails digging into your own skin. to who or what for, you don't know, but you hope someone receives it either way.
you don't cheer, and you don't clap, watching that familiar stranger trade blow after blow, and take blow after blow. under the bright lights, red and purple once again create the painting called 'lohen'.
you can't understand his motivations or his insistence, nor the reasons behind his actions. perhaps you never will.
the referee holds lohen's arm up, declaring him the victor of the match. cheers and whistles erupt all around, the cacophony deafening amidst the slowing beat of your heart.
over the noise, varka projects his voice.
"lohen! look who's here!"
lohen's eyes flicks over to your general direction, eventually meeting your own. in an instant, the fire in his gaze seems to burn even brighter, his teeth now fully bared and smile split wider.
he waves at you and seems to say something. you can't hear him, but you can make out one of the words to be 'wait'.
there's pure joy pouring out of him, like a beacon illuminating the dark night. for a moment, your nervousness seems to melt away.
if you had a hitlist, lohen's name would be at the very top.
shoving your phone back into your pocket, you resolve yourself to the waiting game and step out of the gym, deciding to sit on a bench nearby.
the late afternoon sun warms your skin and the balmy summer wind kisses your cheeks. in the blink of an eye, half the year has passed, while you and lohen have been pen pals for two months.
two months, and yet he's told you almost nothing about his reasons for leaving. furthermore, he seems to have kept you in the dark about something for longer.
"sometimes lohen lies to me about his condition and pushes himself too far." the sentence has been bouncing around in your mind for a while now, its phrasing and implication too serious to ignore.
the initial questions of what and when pop up first, then comes the why and how.
like why didn't you notice something, anything sooner? how serious is whatever he's ailed with? when did he get sick?
how lohen didn't tell you, who was supposedly so special to him, about this matter at all.
has he ever really seen you as his friend?
the further you go down the rabbit hole, the more your mood sours. at some point, tears begin to sting your eyes and you dig the heel of your palm into them. no wonder lohen calls you heulsuse.
you pinch yourself, hard, hoping the sting will distract you from your overthinking. it barely helps, but at least it's something else to focus on. the indent stays for a good minute before it fades, leaving no trace.
"screw you, lohen."
"oh? i heard my name."
jumping out of your skin, you whip your head up to see lohen looming over you, now changed out of his gym clothes and freshened up. there's a faint scent of mint coming off of him. his hair is slightly damp as well, the water droplets dripping onto his sweater.
"...that was quick. you texted me three minutes ago." you gape, still recovering from the scare.
lohen quirks an eyebrow, sitting himself on the armrest of the bench, resting an arm on the back and leveraging his position to lean in closer to you.
"what're you talking about? it's 4:12 pm already. and here i thought you'd chew me out for the two extra minutes."
"it is?" you glance at your phone, frowning when you see that the time is indeed 4:12 pm. seems like you were daydreaming for longer than you should've.
lohen pokes your cheek, the gesture prompting you to throw him a glare. he laughs and raises both hands in surrender, his glee in your annoyance unmistakable.
"you look a little lost." he says matter-of-factly. "what's running through your mind this time?"
lohen's observation irks you a little, more specifically the ease in which he deduced that you were thinking about something. though the frown you're sporting probably aided in his conclusion as well.
suddenly feeling conscious of your facial expressions, you angle yourself slightly away from him.
"nothing important."
you're a liar. you are such a liar, lohen, you want to say.
you move up from the bench, mostly fearing that you wouldn't be able to control yourself from punching or slapping him if you sat next to lohen for a minute longer.
"let's go, i'm getting cold."
"cold? in this weather? okay, hey, don't walk so fast!"
the walk back is quiet, apart from the sound of your footsteps hitting the pavement.
the sunset dips the sky in hues of orange, baby pink clouds covering its vast expanse. it's similar to the one back home in millhaven, where there are flower fields aplenty.
in your youth, you'd help your mother harvest flowers for her perfumery business. the both of you would wake up bright and early, filling big baskets with all kinds of flora.
"handle the blooms gently and don't crush the petals. most importantly, take your time." your mother would remind you. by the end of it all, your hands would be stained with different colours and carry a sweet fragrance.
as the sun rose, the golden glow would make the fresh dew on the petals glimmer like jewels.
you should really plan a trip back home some time after your exams, if only to see that view again.
the sweet reminiscence is short-lived, however, as you bump into lohen. (who very obviously stepped into your path, causing the collision.)
"woah! careful there. are your eyes working alright?"
"my eyes are fine. you should watch your feet." you spit out the words, stepping to the left to move past him. lohen mirrors you, blocking your path.
okay, that's fine, you'll just go right andβyep. he's standing in front of you once again.
"what're you trying to do?" you question.
"oh, nothing at all. don't you think this particular spot is suitable for a fulfilling conversation?" lohen responds.
the two of you are literally standing in the middle of a footpath, the only ornamental piece in view being the school fountain. there isn't much traffic due to the hour, so it only emphasises the barren nature of your surroundings.
you stare at him, unimpressed by his excuse.
"forget me, you should get your eyes checked."
"i'll have you know i have 20/20 vision. but back to my point..." lohen moves closer to you, his demeanour suddenly becoming more chipper as he languidly drapes an arm over your shoulder.
"you finally came to see me today! i thought i was dreaming when i saw you."
when he doesn't let go even after you jab your elbow into his stomach, you resign yourself to your fate and allow lohen to guide you forward.
"it was a last-minute decision and i just wanted to see if you were as good as you claimed." you argue, looking away to prevent yourself from being blinded by the sparkle in lohen's eyes.
he lets out an amused huff. "and? did i live up to your expectations?"
the voice is eager and anticipatory, taking on a higher note than his usual tone. from your peripheral vision, you can see that lohen's looking at you intently, popping his head into your field of view to meet your gaze.
"i wasn't watching too carefully." you trail off, your eyes flitting over lohen's appearance. there's a bandage on his cheek and minor bruising at the corners of his lips. he must've gotten hit hard during the match earlier.
a part of you withers.
"really? that's unfortunate." lohen puckers his lips, his fingers drumming against your shoulder as he sighs theatrically. "guess i'm going to have to fight the thing that stole your attention away from me."
he laughs, but you can see the cogs turning in his mind. lohen's genuinely considering it.
he'd be fighting something non-existent, but you believe he would still find a way. stubborn fool.
the two of you are strolling slowly now. at some point, your footsteps gradually synchronise until the beat of them is indistinguishable on the gravel. the gap in between has been dwindling too, with you and lohen walking hip to hip.
he jumps from topic to topic: school, hobbies, the childhood you shared. it's akin to a performance, really, how lohen's able to switch his intonation and pace so easily.
his voice drags when mentioning mundane things and picks up when recounting frustrating events, each word tinged with an uncharacteristic tenderness.
it makes your heart ache and quiver, hearing such a melody. one that holds so much memory and meaning, from one so close and yet so far.
which is why you need to know.
"lohen, be honest with me."
"hm?"
"are you ill?"
he stops a second later than you, the movement causing his arm to fall from your shoulder. when you turn to look at lohen, it feels like you're looking at a stranger.
they're dark. his eyes are dark. they're dark like the void and lohen is standing motionless in front of you, seemingly unsure of how to react.
"what makes you say that?" he asks, tone low and dull. "do i look sick to you?"
"you don't, which is why i'm asking." you admit, hands clenched at your sides. they've begun to grow cold and slick with sweat. discreetly, you wipe them against the fabric of your pants.
"what did you hear?"
"...that you have some kind of 'condition'. it flares up when you exert yourself."
"anything else?"
"that's all i know. lohen, is it serious?"
lohen stays silent for a minute, gazing at you with this...listlessness about him. it's like his mind is somewhere else while the physical body is in front of you. eventually, he snaps out of some daze and gives you an empty smile.
"it's not. i'm fine, heulsuse." the nickname sounds more patronising than ever coming out of his mouth, and you grit your teeth to tamper down the indignation.
you know lohen is lying. you are certain he is. why can't he just tell you the truth? can't he tell how worried you are for him?
"i don't believe you. it's clearly more than that." stepping forward, you reach out to him.
you barely move a centimetre before lohen takes a step back.
stunned, you glance up to meet utter coldness. there's no trace or hint of the warmth you received from him just minutes ago, and his body language is closed off.
"i said i'm fine. it's none of your business, (name)."
it's pure despise, the way lohen says your name. you pushed him too far, and now he despises you.
it's your fault. you caused this to happen.
"your fault, your fault, your fault." your inner critic chants.
"it's your fault lohen hates you. it's your fault lohen despises you. it's your fault lohen detests you."
"all along, the reason was you."
it is your fault lohen left seven years ago.
"that's not true. how can the blame be placed on me alone? lohen is guilty too!" your inner child cries.
"i wasn't the one who left. i wasn't the one who forsook the other. i wasn't the one who lied!"
for the past four weeks, lohen's been writing letters to you.
Title: Week 9, Day 1 of asking for your forgiveness.
to (name),
hey, i know you probably don't want to hear from me right now. (understandable, i was being a dick.)
i want to apologise, i shouldn't have said that to you. it wasn't right and i want to make it up to you.
let's meet up after your classes to talk?
sincerely,
lohen
Title: Week 10, Day 8 of asking for your forgiveness.
to (name),
you must be really upset, huh? you haven't been replying to my letters.
it's so quiet without you around, y'know? when are you going to come back and annoy me again? soon i hope.
i'll be having practice until 6pm today. you can come see me if you want.
sincerely,
lohen
Title: Week 10, Day 12 of Life update
to (name),
figured you'd get tired of reading about me apologising, so here's something new.
i ate the jueyun chilli chicken i wrote about in my last letter.
it was delicious! i burned the roof of my mouth and my tongue is kinda numb, but the pain was wonderful so it was all worth it. woke me up for my next class.
i went with illuga. you should've seen the look on his face when he took a bite! i laughed so hard water shot out of my nose.
don't tell him, but i actually sprinkled a few more chilli flakes onto his portion while he wasn't looking. i know, i know.
"lohen, you can't do that!" that's what you'd say, right?
don't worry, i apologised after. thank goodness illuga's so kind hearted.
let's try some together next time.
sincerely,
lohen
Title: It's Week 11 and I broke my arm and nose! (surprise!)
to (name),
no joke, i actually fractured my arm and broke my nose. here's what happened.
this guy called ajax joined the club recently. he's a pretty good fighter and is tough as nails, so naturally i wanted to test my skills against him. (one of the best ideas of my life.)
we started sparring, things got a little heated, and next thing i know i'm knocked onto the floor and blood's gushing out of my nose and my arm's twisted in an awkward angle.
i did manage to bruise his eye and break his jaw though before varka caught us. (unsanctioned fight, he was pissed.)
long story short, i have a new friend now! and varka's banned us from being within ten feet of each other. we're planning how to bypass that.
i'm healing well and i'll be back to normal soon.
sincerely,
lohen
p.s. sorry if my writing's all wonky. ajax broke my dominant hand.
Title: just checking in
dear (name),
i hope you're doing well. it's been about four weeks since that day. i haven't heard a single peep from you since then as well.
i wonder if you've been reading all these letters. if you didn't, well, that's okay too. i'm not going to stop either way.
varka probably told you before, but i absolutely hate writing. maybe you figured it out too, with the number of times i asked you to do my homework with me back when we were kids.
i still remember how we used to huddle up together solving math problems, with you holding the pen and me providing the answers.
writing is so inefficient. there's simply no way one person can truly convey what they want to say through words on a page, much less if that person has so much they want to say. it's why i prefer 'doing' instead.
i've been told by different people that the desire to write often just needs a reason, like how you just need to find someone to be brave for in order to have bravery. i honestly think it's nonsense.
as corny as this sounds, you are my reason to write.
i write because i don't want to be a stranger to you again. i write because i don't want to live another seven years without you.
if writing is the only means of communicating with you, then i'll write as many letters as i have to to bridge that seven-year gap.
you make me a different person, (name). a better version of myself.
i've never stopped thinking about you.
sorry. was rambling so much that i'm running out of space now.
imagine lohen as your friendly neighbourhood spider-man!
tw: lohen being a sadist/masochist (what else is new).
a/n: as of writing this i have a test in the next 13 hours and spider-man!lohen won't save me or my to-do list.
spider-man!lohen who's not so 'friendly neighbourhood spider-man' and more 'vigilante with more questionable morals than your average villian'. criminals always piss their pants when they hear the cheerful "hey idiots!" and look up to see the masked hero dangling languidly from above. they say you'd wish the police caught you instead of spider-man.
spider-man!lohen whose signature colours are dark blue, white and black. apart from the trusty web shooters, he also has an assortment of daggers, poisons and rope at his disposal.
don't ask where he stores them all. you won't get an answer.
spider-man!lohen who prefers getting up close and personal when he needs to fight. after all, nothing is more reliable than your good ol' fists! plus lohen just loves the feeling of flesh connecting with his hands, the crack of bones when he forgets himself and exerts too much strength. he does try to practice self-control though. sometimes.
spider-man!lohen who ignores his spidey sense from time to time for the sole reason of getting hit ON PURPOSE. sure it's saved him from lots of sticky situations, like getting stabbed, getting blown up, when he's swinging in the air and a bird comes into his trajectory...
but he's a masochist and sorely misses the sweet, stinging pain he'd experience when he first started out. it's not like lohen would stay injured for long, so why not?
spider-man!lohen who plays and tortures the bad guys he deals with. making use of his speed and quick reflexes, he'll toy with the poor souls by cutting off escape routes and corner them all in one place, letting them run like lambs to the slaughter.
it's especially terrifying at night. you do not want to run into him at night.
spider-man!lohen who, has on more than one occasion, tied up his victims the criminals in a storage room and offered two vials of some substance to them. he never removes his mask, but you can feel the feral grin permeating through it.
"one vial contains poison, and one vial is the antidote. one of them will give you an excruciating death, and one will let you walk away with both legs. may the best man win!"
after, lohen removes the restraints and watches as the animals fight in front of him. it's the purest form of entertainment for him. it's not ethical, that's for sure, but who will tell on him? the two guys fighting for their life?
oh also there's no poison. they're both medicines lohen concocted himself but hasn't gotten the chance to test yet. however, since two lab rats graciously dropped into his arms, how could he refuse?
spider-man!lohen whose day job is actually a police officer. what a surprise right? he's technically putting himself and his colleagues out of a job, but it's also fun hearing the few of them talk shit about himβi mean spider-man.
equal parts loved, respected and feared, lohen can not only gain first-hand info on criminal syndicates in the area, he also has the patrol routes of each one of his colleagues. depending on who annoyed him that week, perhaps he'll drop in and lend a 'helping' hand.
count it as extra training! officers need to be aware at all times after all.
spider-man!lohen who's best friends and roommates with you, a small-time reporter. how you came to figure out he was spider-man wasn't because of some conspiracy theory, elaborate planning or deduction. it was because while you were doing the laundry, you saw the mask laying innocently in the pile.
at dinner, you chucked it onto the table in front of him.
"you're spider-man?"
"yeah."
"...that's all you have to say? 'yeah'?"
"yeah. i'm spider-man. don't tell anyone or i'm gonna have to silence you."
you freaked out for five minutes before settling on a deal with lohen that for each time you had to take over his share of the chores, you'd get three photos of him as spider-man. he agreed.
spider-man!lohen who's always wanted to tell you he was spider-man, but couldn't help but consider the repercussions if that ever happened. nonetheless, since you know now, he'll protect you with his life. he won't let you suffer because of him.
spider-man!lohen who visits you at work from time to time, knocking on the glass window of the 30-story high building and waving at you from the outside. the surprised look on your face is such a sight to behold each time, and you constantly wave your arms to shoo him away.
he's aware your boss isn't too fond of him, and as much as he'd like to stay to mess with him, he doesn't want to get you into trouble.
spider-man!lohen who lifts his mask up slightly to reveal his lips, blowing you a quick kiss and winks before speeding away, enjoying the brief minute he got to relish your blushing expression.
spider-man!lohen who has his ups and downs, finds respite in your arms. with you, he can drop the mask and the responsibilities that come along with his title, and be just lohen instead. he's more than grateful to have you in his life.
spider-man!lohen who carries you in his arms, swinging around as the city blurs beneath. he managed to convince you by promising that he'd take over all the sweeping and mopping for the next three months and that you'd get ice cream after this.
you were screaming at first, hands wrapped tightly around his neck and almost cutting off his blood circulation, but at least you've stopped now albeit with your eyes screwed tightly shut.
lohen somehow decides that now is the best time to confess.
"this isn't too bad for a first date!"
"what do you mean 'first date'!?"
spider-man!lohen who stops both of you on a tall construction crane with absolutely no space to maneuver around, so your only option (and the safest one) is to cling onto him and hope you don't fall as you sit on the very edge of the structure.
after you regain the ability to breathe, you question him.
"i don't think all first dates are supposed to be this death-defying?"
"and you've never known me to play it safe, have you?"
spider-man!lohen who smiles when he hears your laugh, the sound pleasant and the scene made even more beautiful with the setting sun behind you. the sunset's glow is cast over every angle of you, like you are the sunset itself. lohen finds himself removing his mask for a better view.
his gaze darts to your lips as you move in closer, the metal creaking slightly underneath.
"what if i fall?" you say softly, the words a mere whisper as you observe each movement.
"i'll fall with you. you go down, i go down." lohen responds, his eyes showing you the truth behind those words.
spider-man!lohen who grins when you kiss him, leaning backward and pulling him down with you.
as both of you plummet through the air, all lohen savours is the feeling of your lips against his and how much he loves you. when you break apart, he stares at you, pupils shaped like hearts while cupping your cheek tenderly.
even if it was the end of the world, lohen would still take his time with you.
spider-man!lohen who, as long as he gets to wake up to you in the morning, wouldn't mind protecting this neighbourhood for another day.
to the anon who requested me to review their writing:
allow me to first apologise for putting off a response for so long because i was deliberating on how best to answer to this.
second, allow me to thank you and just say that what an honour it is that you believe my writing is good enough for you to want to ask for pointers.
that being said, i am by no means a professional. i'm just someone whose only writing practice in life were the school essays she had to write and a short period of time my mom sent me off for essay writing classes because i had problems with my punctuation. even when writing fics now, i think my pacing's honestly total shit.
i truly don't believe that i am the right person to ask writing advice from but what i can say is that i personally think you wrote a lovely piece. i like the words you used, the character's actions they all made sense. to me that's what constitutes a good piece already!
unfortunately it is a fandom im not familiar with, so i can't give anything in the way of whether your writing was ooc or not.
i didn't want to directly answer to your ask because i wasn't sure if you'd be okay with your writing being posted publicly, yet it also didn't feel right to me that i didn't respond to you at all.
i definitely still have a long way to go as a writer and i can't speak for all the other amazing and talented writers on this site, but i DO truly believe you have what it takes. the most important thing is that you write what you want, love what you write, and believe that you CAN do it. everyone has those times when they think something they've created is horrible and the artist themselves hate it, but there is always someone out there who doesn't think so.
so keep asking and keep sharing! it's how everyone grows. i hope the next time i won't hear from you as an anon, but actually hear from you.
sorry for the rambling i've gone off point. but yes, thank you so so so so SO (1000x) much for having such a high opinion of me!
i hope you'll send in another ask soon! ( γβ½γ)
I've thought of something like angsty, idk if you wanna do something like this or not but just wanted to share this idea
As 2 people are dying one of them says something like
"I wished I could've been your lover in this lifetime"
something like that
And I was wondering if you could write something like that but just wanted to share this idea π₯Ήπ₯Ήπ€
Here's a sweet cookie <3
thank you so much for the cookie @sweetsunnyellie!!! chocolate chip is actually my favourite flavour, no kidding.
as for your idea it definitely has a lot of angst potential and i think we could set a scene for this with lohen. (choosing him in honour of his character teaser coming out.) idk if you've ever seen 'daughter of evil' but the background is what came to mind when i saw this.
i offer a short blurb as payment for the cookies and apologise because it's kind of mid.
tw: mentions of blood and death (its angst what did you expect)
the words come out as a rasp, broken and almost missed were you not cradled in lohen's arms. of course he'd say that.
red is the colour he's referring to. the colour of the roses that sit by your bedside, the colour you were dressed in on your wedding night, and the colour of the warm and sticky substance that coats you both.
perhaps you should've seen it a mile away. who would ever willingly give up their love and freedom to a tyrant like yourself? though, you'd argue that your dear husband had no choice. you killed his one true love and forced him to marry you, after all.
combining that fact and the other egregious crimes you've committed over the years, it's truly no wonder he'd work with the townspeople to stage a coup against you.
honestly, you deserve it.
the servants have fled, your soldiers converted, and the once glittering palace has been robbed of all possessions, leaving nothing but you and lohen sitting in the middle of a desolate hall. outside, you can hear the death knell toll along with the cheers of your subjects. they're celebrating your death.
"i suppose we are. things seem rather jovial out there. will you not join them, lohen?"
you still find it in yourself to make such a jest, somehow, a poor excuse of a laugh following after as you wheeze and gasp for air, the gaping hole in your chest gushing more with each breath.
lohen merely shakes his head and raises a hand to your cheek, caressing so gently you'd have thought a butterfly landed were your eyes not open. they feel heavier and heavier as time goes on. you want to take a nap.
he stains your cheekbones red, a sole thumb dragging itself over your cold skin, marking you with his blood. or maybe it's yours, you don't really know nor care.
"and give you a chance to escape from me? keep dreamin'."
lohen's smile trembles slightly at the corners. you wonder if it's out of mania or fear.
"besides," he shifts to have you lay limply against him, your legs tangled together and interlocked. "till death do us part."
till death do us part. lohen's always kept by it, it seems.
he had first promised you at the tender age of five, back when the world was just limited to the barrier your parents set for you. under the old oak tree, lohen asked for your hand. you rejected him promptly, claiming that his station was too low. "a mere commoner asking for royalty." is what you said.
at the age of ten, he had asked again while both of you were hidden away in a closet, running away from your retainers who were trying to find you. you rejected him then too, more focused on escaping.
at the age of fifteen, he had asked after kissing you. by that time, lohen was already a member of the royal guard, having spent the earlier years of his life fighting his way into the position just so he could be closer to you.
on that day, you slapped him and ran.
and on the eve of your wedding day, at the age of twenty one, vice captain lohen had scaled the trellis and invited himself into your bedroom, looming over you with moonlight shining upon his entire being.
you will never forget those eyes, burning with rage and melancholy alike as their owner knelt down on his knees, asking you to run away with him, to abandon the life of a monarch and marry him instead.
"why won't you leave with me?"
"have you lost your mind? i am to be married tomorrow! with a man i love no less."
"does he?"
"what?"
lohen moved closer then, his body weight pinning you against silk sheets, hands clawing at you as he leaned into your space.
to this day, you still have the shape of his nails embedded into your skin.
"does he love you?"
"why should that matter? i love him, that is enough."
"and i love you."
you knew he did. since childhood, lohen's heeded your every command, no matter how small or grand, how tyrannical or heinous. even if bloodshed were involved, he'd still carry out the order, wearing a satisfied grin each time he came back triumphant.
if lohen didn't love you, why would he have killed the wretch your husband was so enamoured with when you asked?
"if you won't marry me, then let me have you." he had demanded. "let me worship you as you deserve. your soon-to-be husband will not deny me such a privilege."
so you did. allowed him to meld your bodies as one and commit the act as lovers do. not out of genuine love, but out of your obsessive need to feel wanted. if lohen could give you that, then you'd take all you could from him, as sick and twisted and corrosive as it was.
even if he was far from gentle, at least your body and soul were warm in that freezing night.
your mind is muddled from the blood loss, life slipping away from you like sand through an hourglass. lohen's condition could mirror yours, his lips pale and blood seeping from each wound on his body, the wounds that he had sustained while slaughtering his way to reach you.
still, he keeps that damned smile on his face. you loathe and adore it all the same.
"lohen."
"yes, my dear?"
"may we not meet in the next life." you sigh out the kindest and most merciful order you've ever given him.
and with one final shuddering breath, you stiffen in his arms, the light disappearing from your eyes and your lips slightly parted.
in the remaining time after, lohen uses the precious seconds to admire the visage he's loved for all his life. even in death, you are still as radiant as ever. your husband must have been blind to not notice.
so what if you were cruel? so what if you were a tyrant scorned by the people? you were still you, and that's all lohen ever cared about.
he loves you. he admires you. he's obsessed over you. they can remember him as a lunatic for it if they must, but lohen loves you. the gods must be moved by his devotion too, for he has been granted his wish of dying with you.
"how romantic, no? we were simply meant to be, you and i. no one can separate us now."
ah, he's slurring, his time must be almost up. lohen doesn't feel as nervous as one ought to be at the end of their life. after all, he'll be seeing you again very soon.
pressing his lips against yours, lohen whispers.
"i wish i could've been your lover in this lifetime."
hm, dying in an eternal kiss. a rather peaceful end for a tyrant and a knight.
synopsis: they say poetry and letters were humanity's earliest means of expressing their thoughts. as such, will it be able to absolve the misunderstanding between you and lohen?
lohen x fem!reader, childhood friends to strangers to lovers.
feat. sunday, danheng and jingyuan with fem!reader
round 1 here!: phainon, anaxa, ashveil
final round here!: blade, boothill and robin
SUNDAY:
β‘ pads with wings...? what kinds of pads? and why do they have wings? are you talking about wings like his orβ
β‘ oh, you're on...alright, he understands.
β‘ you'll have to kindly excuse sunday. he's only asking because he wasn't sure of what you're referring to and doesn't wish to misunderstand. that and his knowledge on the subject is painfully meagre.
β‘ it was never truly touched upon when he was a young boy, with gopher wood more focused on moulding him into the perfect oak family head and claiming that "such things are better left to the ladies' to concern themselves with."
β‘ but it didn't stop an eleven-year-old sunday from sneaking in books about the female body and reading up what he could about periods so that he could better support his sister, hiding the 'forbidden material' under floorboards. he even helped robin clean her stained bedsheets because she was too ashamed to go to anyone.
β‘ this continued for a month until he was caught and punished.
β‘ sunday doesn't know much and he's aware that everyone is different, so he'll likely ask you more questions on what kind of pads you need and what would make you feel better, albeit shyly. combined with previous experience, i'd say he'd do just fine in picking out pads for you.
β‘ needless to say he's also very relieved that the pads don't actually have wings/feathers. he'd have to watch his own otherwise.
β‘ anyways, have some snacks. it's all your favourites, right? sunday had to ask the others on the express for your preferences so he hopes it's all to your liking.
"is there anything else you need?"
"nope! thank you, sunny. you're the best!"
β‘ his wings twitch and flutter to cover his red cheeks at your words.
DANHENG:
β‘ i feel like he'd be in the same boat as sunday, but the reason is that he's of a different species entirely. the vidyadhara don't reproduce and their anatomy would likely not be the same as a human's. i'd argue that he's even more clueless than sunday because of this fact, but he makes up for it by being a fast learner.
β‘ you are someone very near and dear to his heart, and no words can truly describe the affection and care he holds for you. so of course, danheng shall do all he can to figure out the best plan of action to make sure he gets the correct 'pads with wings' for you.
β‘ we're calling ashveil the detective? HAH. no. danheng is the true detective with how he's noting down everything you're saying and asking questions on the different types of pads you have for daily use. dude mumbles and nods to himself after and makes a whole mindmap, with arrows connecting everything.
β‘ like a man on a mission, he goes off to the store to buy the pads, referring to the notes each time he picks up a pack and studies it at all angles. he's also another one who would ask for help from the other ladies, whether that be the girls on the express or the customers in the store.
β‘ but between you and me, danheng definitely goes to himeko for guidance first.
β‘ he comes back to the express with his hands full, one hand carrying the pads and the other carrying some items himeko had told him would help you.
β‘ as bothered as danheng may seem like on the outside, he's actually internally sweating at the thought he might've gotten something wrong even though he triple and quadruple-checked everything before he dared to return.
β‘ still, for a guy who's so new to this, he's done a good job. just watch out for a particularly clingy danheng in the next couple of days. must be the vidyadhara instincts kicking in.
"danheng, you're hovering again."
"himeko said i'm supposed to treat you like a princess this week. i'm merely doing as she says."
JINGYUAN:
β‘ the general of the xianzhou luofu. god i have nothing appropriate to say about this man. totally unrelated just wanted to get that out there.
β‘ the minute you opened your mouth to ask for pads, the follow-up question jingyuan will ask is "are you sure that's all you need?"
β‘ at this rate you could ask for the sun or moon or any celestial body and jingyuan would procure it for you himself. emphasis on the 'himself'. since you asked him personally, he's making it his number one priority. say bye bye to the paperwork he needs to sign.
β‘ jingyuan's attentive and smart. he knows every single one of your tells that heck he doesn't even need a calendar to track your periods because he's already had it memorised.
β‘ like, is he the one having the period or are you?
β‘ he's the guy who already has everything planned out like a month before so you don't have to worry about anything during shark week. they don't call him the divine foresight for nothing.
β‘ jingyuan's always placed emphasis on the both of you being candid and honest with each other, and he believes such topics shouldn't be a taboo subject in your relationship. you are free to come to him about needing sanitary products or just anything in general if you're comfortable sharing.
β‘ so should it really come as a surprise when you wake up to the smell of jasmine tea in the air, breakfast placed at the bedside table with a little note and the pads with wings you asked for? you should be falling deeper and deeper for this man.
β‘ bonus with the fact that jingyuan's hands could double as a heated water pad for your cramps, with him gently tracing shapes onto your skin.
β‘ beware, however. being the cunning man he is, jingyuan will use it as an excuse to stay in bed with you longer.
"jingyuan, the water pad isn't hot anymore. i'm gonna go warm it up again."
"mmph, no, just use my hands. they never get cold. stay with me a while more, dearest."
im gonna be so fr this is not what i expected when i saw the notif but allow me to say it is truly an honour to be tagged by an amazing writer such as @delilahdreaming for this game.
without further ado here i go guess!
'in the event you don't read this...' (lohen x fem!reader series, gonna be working on chp 2 soon π)
part 2 of 'scare your way into my heart!' (yandere scare actor!lohen x reader, might just save this for halloween)
round 2 of 'pads with wings' (this will be with sunday, dan heng and jingyuan)
the beauty and the beast plot with sunday as belle and reader as the beast
the first one is technically the only WIP as the rest are just ideas and i have a habit of doing one thing at a time before starting another draft. i don't really have many WIPs ( TβT)
as for tags i don't really know anyone on this platform and im too shy so um i shall offer up my moot @whats-in-a-name-anyways as the holy sacrifice (pls forgive me).
ANYWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH WHAT A BLESSING TO BE INCLUDED IN THIS GAME!!!
how i think these guys would interpret 'pads with wings'.
feat. phainon, anaxagoras and ashveil with fem!reader
a/n: i have no idea if anyone's written this but the idea was too good to pass up
round 2 here!: sunday, danheng, jingyuan
final round here!: blade, boothill and robin
PHAINON:
β‘ phainon WILL get it for you, no question.
β‘ he doesn't care if he has to climb mountains, go through all 33550336 cycles again or fight irontomb, he will complete this mission and get his dawnlight her pads with wings.
β‘ but when he gets to the store, phainon's utterly flabbergasted by the amount of choices in stock. i mean, there's daytime, nighttime, panty liners and a whole bunch of others he's pretty sure he doesn't know the use for.
β‘ but hey, since it's you, phainon will take this with the utmost seriousness. anything less is an affront to his love for you.
β‘ i feel like he'd definitely ask the other ladies in the aisle with no hint of embarrassment or shame. because what's there to be ashamed about a perfectly natural cycle of life? if anything, phainon wishes he was the one to bear all your painful cramps.
β‘ after phainon completes his haul, that is to say a whole year's worth of pads he proudly carries like a trophy, he skips off to buy you wings because that's what you want. and of course he needs to buy them from your favourite place!
β‘ after everything is done, phainon heads straight home and presents it all to you like he's a soldier sharing the spoils of war with his queen. he's practically an excited puppy when he places everything in your lap, looking to you for approval.
"um, phai, what is all this...?"
"your pads with wings!"
β‘ phainon doesn't know why you burst out in laughter all of a sudden, but eventually understands what you actually wanted after you explain.
β‘ kephale above, how could he mess up something so simple?! you counted on him for this and yet he's screwed everything up! no, he simply must go out again and get the correct pads.
β‘ however, you prevent him from doing so when you wrap your arms around him and pull him onto the bed, thanking him in that angelic voice of yours.
β‘ ah, well, guess he's staying.
β‘ the next time you ask, phainon won't make the same mistake.
ANAXAGORAS:
β‘ you want pads with wings? sure, he can do that for you. just to be clear, is that pads with wings or pads with wings? why are you looking at him like that? did you truly think he was going to decline your request? how foolish.
β‘ anaxa may be labelled a fool, but he is by no means ignorant. in fact, he predicted that you'd ask him this question from how your brow creased by one degree.
β‘ oh, and also the fact he's been tracking your cycles. he KNOWS what's going on. anyways, pads with wings, yes?
β‘ surprisingly, anaxa knows exactly where the pads are located. it causes one to wonder the how and why, but that's not the point. what is the point is the fact that he has a notebook detailing what kind of pads you use on what days and how your period is usually like.
β‘ we shall not question this because there is no shame in a guy wanting to know his lover better through her periods. but yeah he has it all colour-coded, dated and charted. it's as meticulous as the experiment logs he writes.
β‘ anaxa treats the selection process like he's preparing a lecture on the care of dromases. that is how important it is. he critiques based on the material, comfort, your preferences...
β‘ whatever people look for in pads, anaxa's already considered it. as such, he manages to pick out a few and extras for backups. always good to be prepared, and he isn't one to be underprepared.
β‘ it might be worth mentioning that anaxa stares at the packs with such intensity it makes one think he has a vengeance against them, but no he's just evaluating which one has the higher percentage of absorbency.
β‘ he even buys a few painkillers, a heating pad and some chocolate for you before heading home. needless to say, you're pleasantly surprised by it all.
β‘ anaxa gets to feel proud of himself, and more importantly, you are taken care of. what more could he ask for?
"anaxa, how did you even think of all this? i only asked you to get pads with wings."
"pah, that's a rather shallow assumption of me. am i not more intimately acquainted with your body than most?"
β‘ an amused smirk appears on anaxa's face as he dodges the pillow you throw at him.
ASHVEIL:
β‘ pads? okay hold on, let him check how many credits he has left in his bank account. no no, you are not paying for them. over his dead body.
β‘ i don't believe ashveil would be as enthusiastic as phainon or meticulous like anaxa, but it's more so his 'experience' comes from time itself.
β‘ ashveil performs this task based off deduction and gathering of clues, like any good detective. it may not be detailed, but he has a general idea of what you want and how he should get the job done.
β‘ maybe he'd feel a little awkward while he's buying the pads. not because of the act itself, but the fact that he's a tall old man (who looks young?) wearing a fedora with his arms crossed while looking at different brands.
β‘ i mean, would you not get suspicious of such a guy?
β‘ ashveil definitely does do the thing all old people do, the object far away as he snaps a pic with the phone close to his face for you to review. he takes a few, waits for your input, gets the ones you want and pays for them with whatever money he has left for the month.
β‘ sanitary products are expensive, but you just let him worry about that, m'kay? your comfort is more important, and ashveil was raised to be a gentleman after all.
β‘ when it comes to food, ashveil is going all out. he doesn't just buy wings. he buys you a whole meal. drinks, snacks, desserts, you name it. ashveil admits, he might've gotten a bit too carried away and he's blaming it on the appetite of that thing in his arm.
β‘ no worries, if you can't finish it, the rest can be kept as leftovers. or maybe he'll eat it all, who knows.
β‘ all in all, ashveil knows he's done a good job when he sees the grateful smile on your face. ah, how sweet his darling is.
"ashveil, how much was it all? i'll pay you back."
"ah, no. what did i say? it's on me. now start eating or else i'm stealing all your fries."
