Happy Ending - Blog Posts

The beginning of all ~

This king spent all the afternoon worried for the new cub, but he shouldn't underestimate his successor. He tried hard to control himself and be chill, after all /his/ the kiddo was just right playing with the young monkeys in the mountain.

For the evening he couldn't wait more, having the cub out of his sight was killing him. No one of his stuff his subjects had seen the young stone monkey...

After a quick ( really long for him) travel in the summersault he found him! His troublemaker... The poor cub looked so sad sat alone in a tree.

"Give the young ones their space" bleh. R the humans crazy? No matter if this one grew up as a human it's obvious he couldn't be left alone for much time. He must have listened to his instincts in first place instead of be fooled for a human phrase.

Or was for other age..? Hmm...

At least he's happy now ^^

... This king won't have his arms for a long time...

i will cry right now omg thank you ❣️🥹

Hi green! Since you've left me some lovely requests, I thought I'd leave you one! I'm in love with the friends to love trope, so if you could do something like that with Felix, I'd eat it up. I'm thinking of something like the reader (gn please) has a really hard day and decides to go to Felix, but then it starts raining, so when Felix opens the door, reader is soaking wet and distressed. You can do anything from there! Again, I love your writing, so anything you come up with will be undoubtedly amazing. Hope you're doing well! <3

everything is you.

other works by green.

pairing: felix x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of parental abandonment years prior, mentions of recent death of a parent, smoking weed, daddy issues

rating: 13+

summary: through every single hardship you'd ever endured, felix always waited for you, ready to bring you into the safety of his embrace. so when you're stuck amidst the complicated emotions following your father's recent passing, the first and only person you sought for comfort was your best friend.

Echoes of the youth you’d spent in this house haunted the eerie hallways of this vacant home. Every inch of this familiar place has remained the same, though you certainly haven’t. Sitting on the front porch floor, a joint you’d just rolled burning between your fingers as you watch the rain pour outside, a vacant expression on your face as you decided on what to do. The initial plan was to walk towards your best friend’s house, which was a short walk away but the sky seemed to have other plans. And so you remained there, stuck sitting beside a box full of letters addressed to you, but that had never been sent – all written by your father. 

Too many times you had driven past him on your way to visit your best friend, making the point to keep your eyes on the road in case your father sat out front like he sometimes tended to do. The two of you had never been on good terms, especially since your mother left when you were a teenager to chase another man who’d made empty promises to her, and your father didn’t know the first thing about caring about another human being. It wasn’t a surprise to anybody when you left without a word the very minute you were old enough to do so and never returned. And yet, here you were, years since you’d gone – a box of letters he’d written to you though never sent, and you knew you didn’t have the nerve to open them alone. 

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips, pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans for what was possibly the millionth time only to be met by the same symbol of no signal available for you to message Felix, the aforementioned best friend – the boy you’ve known since you could barely form a sentence due to living so close to each other. He was the kind of guy who would smile a little bit wider whenever his eyes landed on you, the one to allow you to lash out when you were angry despite how sensitive he was because he wanted you to feel better, the one to remember your birthday and plan something intimate and special even if nobody else bothered, the one to pay attention to the little things you would mention in passing and always remember – he was very much in love with you, had been for a very long time and you were well aware. But he never mentioned it directly, and you decided that you wouldn’t bring it up either because you knew that the reality of this lifetime is that you were made to destroy and hurt while he was made to heal and rebuild and you couldn’t risk having him be the next victim.

In moments like these, while alone with your thoughts that slowed down from the flower you smoked that still seemed to suffocate you all the same, you wished things were different. If only you were a stable human being, good enough for him to safely lay his head on your shoulder the way a lover would do, someone who’s sane and loving and all things good – all of which you were not – then perhaps he would be sitting beside you already, encouraging you to open the first letter while being ready to kiss your forehead at the first sign of distress. It’s selfish, and you knew, but as the screen of your useless phone remained blank you couldn’t help but wish his name would pop up. 

Your mind swirled with thoughts that made it harder to breathe with each passing second. The box of letters beside you. No signal. Felix’s smile. Childhood home. Your mother leaving. Your father’s cold demeanor. Yourself.

Not willing to wait for the rain to end, but also not wanting to dwell in here any longer, you grunted as you put out your joint and walked inside. A plastic sheet that covered one of the cushioned chairs in the living room was the only thing you took before making a b-line back outside. You lazily throw the sheet over the box, struggling only slightly to lift it before leaving the shelter from the rain, instantly drenched as the it offered no mercy. Barely able to keep your eyes open, you followed the same path you’ve walked a thousand times throughout your life, the pull of your best friend’s comfort and warmth being the true source of your rush as your pace quickened.

The neighborhood was the same, with the same married couples still residing in them – though most of their children were gone, already having moved on in their adult lives as their parents awaited for the next holiday to see them again. Everywhere you looked, a memory tied you to Felix as though his entire, beautiful being had been burned into your consciousness forever. Perhaps he had been, not that you would complain about it one bit if that were the case.

Felix’s childhood home came into view at last, and you all but sprinted clumsily with the box in your hands as your mind, body and heart yearned for his strong arms around you. Your heart was pumping blood through your veins harshly by the time you’d made it to his front door, dropping the box at your feet before banging on his wooden door. The air was having a hard time reaching your lungs and you realized that you were crying now that the rain was not hammering onto your skin – flashbacks of a similar scene played in your head, your teenage self distressed after you’d read your mother’s goodbye letter and your grief engulfed you and sent you down a spiral while the scene of your father sitting on the dinner table reading his newspaper and sipping coffee as you screamed at him to see you and your broken heart left at the departure of your mother. Your fists shaking as you gave up, falling onto your knees in despair just as the door swung open. 

A wide-eyed Felix stood before you, shocked to see you in such a state and so late at night. It only took him half a second to react as he practically threw himself onto the ground and pulled you into the safety of his embrace despite how drenched you were. A sob you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back escaped your lips, and the gravity of the fact that you were officially alone dawned on you. Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t describe and all you could truly focus on was the fresh scent of his blueberry shampoo and vanilla soap on him as you briefly realized you must’ve caught him getting out of the shower. 

“Hey, hey,” Felix attempted to pull away slightly to speak to you but you tighten your hold on his torso, not quite ready to let go yet. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

You said nothing, silently cursing yourself for being so weak – crying over a man who had never even smiled in your direction. 

“Felix, darling, what was all that noise?”

The sound of Felix’s mother’s sleepy voice caused you to jerk away from him, cheeks heating up in shame. You were on your feet in a second, bowing deeply to the kind woman who’d supported you through all of your hardships. 

“I– I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking when I came here, making all that noise. I just–”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Lee waved you off with a concerned smile. “I’ve been telling you for years that you’re welcomed here at any time of day. Come in, darling, you’ll catch a cold. Come!”

Felix moved out of the way so that you could enter his home, pushing you away when you tried to grab a hold of the box you’d carried through the rain so that he could take care of it himself. You knew that you must’ve looked deranged, but there was no hint of judgment in their eyes as they watched you take your shoes off at the entrance. Mrs. Lee guided you into the living room by the shoulders despite the fact that you knew your way through the house like the back of your hand. The tenderness of such a simple touch made your sight blurry with tears that you refused to release this time. 

“Darling, go take a warm shower and Felix will bring you a fresh towel and some spare clothes for you to change into, deal?” Mrs. Lee raised her brows as she waited for your response, you merely nodded. “Good, have you eaten?”

“N– No.”

“I’ll heat up some leftovers from tonight’s dinner, then.”

With that, she rushed over to the kitchen. You remained in the same spot though, letting the rain drip onto the floor as your body trembled from the chill the weather outside had instilled into you. Felix gently dropped the box on the couch, paying no mind to the wet plastic sheet that was still covering its contents. 

“Y/N,” Felix said, voice low and warm. “You told me you were coming tomorrow in the afternoon. Why are you here?”

“I lied,” you sighed defeatedly. “I just didn’t want you to worry too much and I thought that I could– I thought that I would be able to go in there myself. And I really was fine, really…until I found that stupid box.”

He glanced back at the box behind him, sighing. Felix didn’t say anything, choosing instead to lead you towards the second floor and into the bathroom he typically shared with his sisters, closing the door behind you. 

While standing under the scalding hot water in the shower by yourself, you couldn’t help but scold yourself at the lack of impulse control. You could have knocked like a normal person, instead you simply decided that you would bang on his door as though your life was in danger which in turn startled everyone in the house and probably the neighbors as well. The thing that had you so upset was not something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t urgent at all. It was just a dumb box filled with letters that you’d never received while your father had been alive. So dramatic, you chided. 

Just when you were about to shut the water off, you heard the bathroom door open quietly while you assumed Felix gathered your wet clothing and replaced them with fresh ones along with a towel. Once the door closed again, you drew the curtains back to be proved right. You dressed quickly, not bothering to brush your hair as you made your way back down and into the kitchen only to find that Mrs. Lee was no longer there, instead you found Felix looking for chopsticks for you to use while you ate. 

“I told my mom to head to bed,” Felix informed you without looking up, placing the chopsticks on a napkin beside your warm plate. “What’s in the box?”

Your feet felt heavy with each step you took closer to your meal – to him. You leaned your lower back against the counter, gingerly taking the plate into your hands. “My father wrote me letters. A whole lot of them. But he never sent them.” 

Felix’s eyes remained on you, taking his place right beside you, leaving only a hair’s distance in between. In order to not get distracted by this silly fact, you shoved your first bite into your mouth even though you didn’t feel particularly hungry. He didn’t seem to notice, only waiting patiently like he always did. 

“The house hasn’t changed a single bit since I left,” you swallowed, voice thick. “I could tell exactly where he spent the majority of his time– the same spot at the head of the dinner table where he left stacks upon stacks of newspapers he never did bother to throw out, the reclining chair right in front of the TV where his weight had left its mark over the years, and his room that was a complete mess of clothes and books and papers and everything he ever used was thrown onto the ground.”

Another bite. Felix still said nothing. 

“My room was left intact,” you continued. “It almost felt like time had stopped when I left, and the clock only continued when I walked in again. It was clean– my father kept his own room in chaos but cleaned my room. Not a speck of dust anywhere, and I checked.” 

A third bite and then you set the practically full plate back onto the counter, you didn’t have the appetite to finish it. Felix wordlessly cleaned the area and left your plate in the fridge. 

“I think the only thing that changed there was that all the family photos were taken down.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as your breath becomes slightly shaky. “Not even put away, he just– took them and smashed them on the floor and left everything there. I can’t help but wonder just how long ago that was, and how many times he turned a blind eye to the broken glass as he stepped over them.

And then I went down to the basement, and everything was pretty much the same except for this stupid box. All of the letters with my name and address written on the envelope and I just– I lost it. I don’t know what to think anymore, of him…of anything.”

Felix’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, surprising you for a second before you returned the gesture. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest despite this not being the first time he’d hugged you, but this one felt like it did when you were a teenager. It was strong, yet gentle; protective, yet freeing. Although it’d only been a few weeks since you’d seen him, you missed him deeply. You had left town, and he remained here with his family and his happy childhood memories – though you visited often and he did as well, but still; you missed him deeply. 

“I think that your father loved you in his own twisted way,” Felix murmured in your ear at last, arms tightening around you. “He was hurting, too. And you still didn’t deserve any of the things he did and didn’t do to you, because you were hurting and you were the child. But I think he loved you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, hands shaking as you gripped Felix’s blue hoodie. 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ☀️

The rain had stopped after a while, so you and Felix took advantage of that and sat on the roof right outside his bedroom window like you’d done a thousand times before. Overlooking the neighborhood in the dead of night as you lighted up the freshly rolled joint between your lips, inhaling the comforting flower before exhaling its smoke. The weight on your shoulders and mind was lifted as your anxiety dulled and your body relaxed. You passed the joint to Felix, who mimicked your actions. 

Your tears had long since dried, and the box had been left in the living room as you decided not to look at them tonight. Instead, you focused on the serene atmosphere that surrounded you and Felix like a warm hug. He passed the joint back to you, though you didn’t immediately bring it up to your lips again, letting it burn slightly between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes slowly found their way to Felix’s that had already been on you, analyzing you in the same way he had always done. You couldn’t tell if the glitter in his eyes were a reflection of the stars in the sky, or if they were truly his though they looked enchanting anyway. His smile widened when he noticed you meet his intense gaze and your heart burned at the sight, thinking back to your train of thought back on the front porch of your childhood home right before you’d come here. 

After all of these years, all of the tears, grief, arguments, and lashing out – he remained beside you, eyes on you as if you’d placed the sun in the sky yourself. You would never understand how he could stay by you when everyone else had left, there was nothing special about you other than your cutting tongue and vengeful heart. Though you couldn’t help but soften at the sight of him and his optimistic way of seeing the world. He was far too good, too pure for you or anyone else. And yet he sat there, subtly inching closer to you though you had still noticed. 

Lee Felix was in love with you, and had been for a long time. You were well aware, and had been for a long time. Though he never mentioned it directly and you decided that ignoring this would protect both you and him; but after all of this time, perhaps you’d maybe fallen in love with him too. It would be impossible not to let your own smile widen at the sight of his brown eyes watching you with so much genuine gentleness, to not feel your heart quicken every time he touched you, to not think of him when your bed was empty and cold, to not wish with every aching cell in your body that you were not as damaged as you were so that maybe, just maybe you would have a chance of deserving such a rare soul. 

Despite knowing all of this, you allowed him to move closer to you as the joint became smaller and smaller with each pass between the two of you. Eventually, your arms and legs were touching, and you could practically feel Felix’s erratic heartbeat. 

“What are you thinking about?” You surprised yourself by asking him, pointedly staring at the streetlamp directly in front of Felix’s house. His breath hitched slightly, though he didn’t say anything for a few moments. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled with a half-shrug. “Everything, I guess.”

“What is everything, Felix?”

His eyes met yours, wide with curiosity as he attempted to read you. Your own veins were pulsing with adrenaline from your boldness, though somehow you weren’t as mad about it as you thought you would be.

“I– I’m not sure.”

“I don’t believe you. What is everything?”

This was everything against what you’d done since you noticed his feelings for you, this was not keeping a safe distance. But you couldn’t help it, it was as though your heart had finally gained control over your brain and was pushing you to confront your own feelings for the first time in years. Because the truth is, your heart did burn for him in a way you couldn’t explain; it fluttered and skipped a beat a thousand times whenever he was around and it had been for as long as you could think back. You didn’t deserve him, but he thought the world of you – so maybe that was worth something. 

“Everything is–” Felix’s eyes searched yours, his breathing picking up slightly. “Everything is you.”

If your heart either exploded or simply stopped beating, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least. His words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto your face. 

“Good.” You stated, putting out what little was left of your shared joint on the roof before moving to straddle him, and you might as well have pushed him off and onto the ground before with the way the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him. His eyes were so wide, so surprised yet so excited. “To me, everything is you, too.”

His eyes scanned yours for a moment before he released an incredulous, airy chuckle. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, however, as your lips met his for the first time and the world melted away.

word count: 3.3k ☀️ posted: 12 • 05 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for the request! I truly, truly enjoyed writing this for you. I just sat here and the words just kept flowing and flowing and I just couldn't stop, so I hope you enjoy it! (Side note though: I'm sorry if this a bit darker for your taste, I read it back and was like 'yikes, didn't mean to start off like that'.)

Anyway! I appreciate your compliments, always. Your feedback is something I genuinely look forward to every time I post, and so I'm happy that we're mutuals out here supporting each other because honestly – you're a magnificent writer as well, so I can promise that every time I think of something new for you, I'll grab my phone and tell you all about it no matter where I am!

Again, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you!

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

Hi green! Since you've left me some lovely requests, I thought I'd leave you one! I'm in love with the friends to love trope, so if you could do something like that with Felix, I'd eat it up. I'm thinking of something like the reader (gn please) has a really hard day and decides to go to Felix, but then it starts raining, so when Felix opens the door, reader is soaking wet and distressed. You can do anything from there! Again, I love your writing, so anything you come up with will be undoubtedly amazing. Hope you're doing well! <3

everything is you.

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ IN PROGRESS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED

pairing: felix x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of parental abandonment years prior, mentions of recent death of a parent, smoking weed, daddy issues

rating: 13+

summary: through every single hardship you'd ever endured, felix always waited for you, ready to bring you into the safety of his embrace. so when you're stuck amidst the complicated emotions following your father's recent passing, the first and only person you sought for comfort was your best friend.

Echoes of the youth you’d spent in this house haunted the eerie hallways of this vacant home. Every inch of this familiar place has remained the same, though you certainly haven’t. Sitting on the front porch floor, a joint you’d just rolled burning between your fingers as you watch the rain pour outside, a vacant expression on your face as you decided on what to do. The initial plan was to walk towards your best friend’s house, which was a short walk away but the sky seemed to have other plans. And so you remained there, stuck sitting beside a box full of letters addressed to you, but that had never been sent – all written by your father. 

Too many times you had driven past him on your way to visit your best friend, making the point to keep your eyes on the road in case your father sat out front like he sometimes tended to do. The two of you had never been on good terms, especially since your mother left when you were a teenager to chase another man who’d made empty promises to her, and your father didn’t know the first thing about caring about another human being. It wasn’t a surprise to anybody when you left without a word the very minute you were old enough to do so and never returned. And yet, here you were, years since you’d gone – a box of letters he’d written to you though never sent, and you knew you didn’t have the nerve to open them alone. 

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips, pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans for what was possibly the millionth time only to be met by the same symbol of no signal available for you to message Felix, the aforementioned best friend – the boy you’ve known since you could barely form a sentence due to living so close to each other. He was the kind of guy who would smile a little bit wider whenever his eyes landed on you, the one to allow you to lash out when you were angry despite how sensitive he was because he wanted you to feel better, the one to remember your birthday and plan something intimate and special even if nobody else bothered, the one to pay attention to the little things you would mention in passing and always remember – he was very much in love with you, had been for a very long time and you were well aware. But he never mentioned it directly, and you decided that you wouldn’t bring it up either because you knew that the reality of this lifetime is that you were made to destroy and hurt while he was made to heal and rebuild and you couldn’t risk having him be the next victim.

In moments like these, while alone with your thoughts that slowed down from the flower you smoked that still seemed to suffocate you all the same, you wished things were different. If only you were a stable human being, good enough for him to safely lay his head on your shoulder the way a lover would do, someone who’s sane and loving and all things good – all of which you were not – then perhaps he would be sitting beside you already, encouraging you to open the first letter while being ready to kiss your forehead at the first sign of distress. It’s selfish, and you knew, but as the screen of your useless phone remained blank you couldn’t help but wish his name would pop up. 

Your mind swirled with thoughts that made it harder to breathe with each passing second. The box of letters beside you. No signal. Felix’s smile. Childhood home. Your mother leaving. Your father’s cold demeanor. Yourself.

Not willing to wait for the rain to end, but also not wanting to dwell in here any longer, you grunted as you put out your joint and walked inside. A plastic sheet that covered one of the cushioned chairs in the living room was the only thing you took before making a b-line back outside. You lazily throw the sheet over the box, struggling only slightly to lift it before leaving the shelter from the rain, instantly drenched as the it offered no mercy. Barely able to keep your eyes open, you followed the same path you’ve walked a thousand times throughout your life, the pull of your best friend’s comfort and warmth being the true source of your rush as your pace quickened.

The neighborhood was the same, with the same married couples still residing in them – though most of their children were gone, already having moved on in their adult lives as their parents awaited for the next holiday to see them again. Everywhere you looked, a memory tied you to Felix as though his entire, beautiful being had been burned into your consciousness forever. Perhaps he had been, not that you would complain about it one bit if that were the case.

Felix’s childhood home came into view at last, and you all but sprinted clumsily with the box in your hands as your mind, body and heart yearned for his strong arms around you. Your heart was pumping blood through your veins harshly by the time you’d made it to his front door, dropping the box at your feet before banging on his wooden door. The air was having a hard time reaching your lungs and you realized that you were crying now that the rain was not hammering onto your skin – flashbacks of a similar scene played in your head, your teenage self distressed after you’d read your mother’s goodbye letter and your grief engulfed you and sent you down a spiral while the scene of your father sitting on the dinner table reading his newspaper and sipping coffee as you screamed at him to see you and your broken heart left at the departure of your mother. Your fists shaking as you gave up, falling onto your knees in despair just as the door swung open. 

A wide-eyed Felix stood before you, shocked to see you in such a state and so late at night. It only took him half a second to react as he practically threw himself onto the ground and pulled you into the safety of his embrace despite how drenched you were. A sob you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back escaped your lips, and the gravity of the fact that you were officially alone dawned on you. Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t describe and all you could truly focus on was the fresh scent of his blueberry shampoo and vanilla soap on him as you briefly realized you must’ve caught him getting out of the shower. 

“Hey, hey,” Felix attempted to pull away slightly to speak to you but you tighten your hold on his torso, not quite ready to let go yet. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

You said nothing, silently cursing yourself for being so weak – crying over a man who had never even smiled in your direction. 

“Felix, darling, what was all that noise?”

The sound of Felix’s mother’s sleepy voice caused you to jerk away from him, cheeks heating up in shame. You were on your feet in a second, bowing deeply to the kind woman who’d supported you through all of your hardships. 

“I– I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking when I came here, making all that noise. I just–”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Lee waved you off with a concerned smile. “I’ve been telling you for years that you’re welcomed here at any time of day. Come in, darling, you’ll catch a cold. Come!”

Felix moved out of the way so that you could enter his home, pushing you away when you tried to grab a hold of the box you’d carried through the rain so that he could take care of it himself. You knew that you must’ve looked deranged, but there was no hint of judgment in their eyes as they watched you take your shoes off at the entrance. Mrs. Lee guided you into the living room by the shoulders despite the fact that you knew your way through the house like the back of your hand. The tenderness of such a simple touch made your sight blurry with tears that you refused to release this time. 

“Darling, go take a warm shower and Felix will bring you a fresh towel and some spare clothes for you to change into, deal?” Mrs. Lee raised her brows as she waited for your response, you merely nodded. “Good, have you eaten?”

“N– No.”

“I’ll heat up some leftovers from tonight’s dinner, then.”

With that, she rushed over to the kitchen. You remained in the same spot though, letting the rain drip onto the floor as your body trembled from the chill the weather outside had instilled into you. Felix gently dropped the box on the couch, paying no mind to the wet plastic sheet that was still covering its contents. 

“Y/N,” Felix said, voice low and warm. “You told me you were coming tomorrow in the afternoon. Why are you here?”

“I lied,” you sighed defeatedly. “I just didn’t want you to worry too much and I thought that I could– I thought that I would be able to go in there myself. And I really was fine, really…until I found that stupid box.”

He glanced back at the box behind him, sighing. Felix didn’t say anything, choosing instead to lead you towards the second floor and into the bathroom he typically shared with his sisters, closing the door behind you. 

While standing under the scalding hot water in the shower by yourself, you couldn’t help but scold yourself at the lack of impulse control. You could have knocked like a normal person, instead you simply decided that you would bang on his door as though your life was in danger which in turn startled everyone in the house and probably the neighbors as well. The thing that had you so upset was not something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t urgent at all. It was just a dumb box filled with letters that you’d never received while your father had been alive. So dramatic, you chided. 

Just when you were about to shut the water off, you heard the bathroom door open quietly while you assumed Felix gathered your wet clothing and replaced them with fresh ones along with a towel. Once the door closed again, you drew the curtains back to be proved right. You dressed quickly, not bothering to brush your hair as you made your way back down and into the kitchen only to find that Mrs. Lee was no longer there, instead you found Felix looking for chopsticks for you to use while you ate. 

“I told my mom to head to bed,” Felix informed you without looking up, placing the chopsticks on a napkin beside your warm plate. “What’s in the box?”

Your feet felt heavy with each step you took closer to your meal – to him. You leaned your lower back against the counter, gingerly taking the plate into your hands. “My father wrote me letters. A whole lot of them. But he never sent them.” 

Felix’s eyes remained on you, taking his place right beside you, leaving only a hair’s distance in between. In order to not get distracted by this silly fact, you shoved your first bite into your mouth even though you didn’t feel particularly hungry. He didn’t seem to notice, only waiting patiently like he always did. 

“The house hasn’t changed a single bit since I left,” you swallowed, voice thick. “I could tell exactly where he spent the majority of his time– the same spot at the head of the dinner table where he left stacks upon stacks of newspapers he never did bother to throw out, the reclining chair right in front of the TV where his weight had left its mark over the years, and his room that was a complete mess of clothes and books and papers and everything he ever used was thrown onto the ground.”

Another bite. Felix still said nothing. 

“My room was left intact,” you continued. “It almost felt like time had stopped when I left, and the clock only continued when I walked in again. It was clean– my father kept his own room in chaos but cleaned my room. Not a speck of dust anywhere, and I checked.” 

A third bite and then you set the practically full plate back onto the counter, you didn’t have the appetite to finish it. Felix wordlessly cleaned the area and left your plate in the fridge. 

“I think the only thing that changed there was that all the family photos were taken down.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as your breath becomes slightly shaky. “Not even put away, he just– took them and smashed them on the floor and left everything there. I can’t help but wonder just how long ago that was, and how many times he turned a blind eye to the broken glass as he stepped over them.

And then I went down to the basement, and everything was pretty much the same except for this stupid box. All of the letters with my name and address written on the envelope and I just– I lost it. I don’t know what to think anymore, of him…of anything.”

Felix’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, surprising you for a second before you returned the gesture. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest despite this not being the first time he’d hugged you, but this one felt like it did when you were a teenager. It was strong, yet gentle; protective, yet freeing. Although it’d only been a few weeks since you’d seen him, you missed him deeply. You had left town, and he remained here with his family and his happy childhood memories – though you visited often and he did as well, but still; you missed him deeply. 

“I think that your father loved you in his own twisted way,” Felix murmured in your ear at last, arms tightening around you. “He was hurting, too. And you still didn’t deserve any of the things he did and didn’t do to you, because you were hurting and you were the child. But I think he loved you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, hands shaking as you gripped Felix’s blue hoodie. 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ☀️

The rain had stopped after a while, so you and Felix took advantage of that and sat on the roof right outside his bedroom window like you’d done a thousand times before. Overlooking the neighborhood in the dead of night as you lighted up the freshly rolled joint between your lips, inhaling the comforting flower before exhaling its smoke. The weight on your shoulders and mind was lifted as your anxiety dulled and your body relaxed. You passed the joint to Felix, who mimicked your actions. 

Your tears had long since dried, and the box had been left in the living room as you decided not to look at them tonight. Instead, you focused on the serene atmosphere that surrounded you and Felix like a warm hug. He passed the joint back to you, though you didn’t immediately bring it up to your lips again, letting it burn slightly between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes slowly found their way to Felix’s that had already been on you, analyzing you in the same way he had always done. You couldn’t tell if the glitter in his eyes were a reflection of the stars in the sky, or if they were truly his though they looked enchanting anyway. His smile widened when he noticed you meet his intense gaze and your heart burned at the sight, thinking back to your train of thought back on the front porch of your childhood home right before you’d come here. 

After all of these years, all of the tears, grief, arguments, and lashing out – he remained beside you, eyes on you as if you’d placed the sun in the sky yourself. You would never understand how he could stay by you when everyone else had left, there was nothing special about you other than your cutting tongue and vengeful heart. Though you couldn’t help but soften at the sight of him and his optimistic way of seeing the world. He was far too good, too pure for you or anyone else. And yet he sat there, subtly inching closer to you though you had still noticed. 

Lee Felix was in love with you, and had been for a long time. You were well aware, and had been for a long time. Though he never mentioned it directly and you decided that ignoring this would protect both you and him; but after all of this time, perhaps you’d maybe fallen in love with him too. It would be impossible not to let your own smile widen at the sight of his brown eyes watching you with so much genuine gentleness, to not feel your heart quicken every time he touched you, to not think of him when your bed was empty and cold, to not wish with every aching cell in your body that you were not as damaged as you were so that maybe, just maybe you would have a chance of deserving such a rare soul. 

Despite knowing all of this, you allowed him to move closer to you as the joint became smaller and smaller with each pass between the two of you. Eventually, your arms and legs were touching, and you could practically feel Felix’s erratic heartbeat. 

“What are you thinking about?” You surprised yourself by asking him, pointedly staring at the streetlamp directly in front of Felix’s house. His breath hitched slightly, though he didn’t say anything for a few moments. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled with a half-shrug. “Everything, I guess.”

“What is everything, Felix?”

His eyes met yours, wide with curiosity as he attempted to read you. Your own veins were pulsing with adrenaline from your boldness, though somehow you weren’t as mad about it as you thought you would be.

“I– I’m not sure.”

“I don’t believe you. What is everything?”

This was everything against what you’d done since you noticed his feelings for you, this was not keeping a safe distance. But you couldn’t help it, it was as though your heart had finally gained control over your brain and was pushing you to confront your own feelings for the first time in years. Because the truth is, your heart did burn for him in a way you couldn’t explain; it fluttered and skipped a beat a thousand times whenever he was around and it had been for as long as you could think back. You didn’t deserve him, but he thought the world of you – so maybe that was worth something. 

“Everything is–” Felix’s eyes searched yours, his breathing picking up slightly. “Everything is you.”

If your heart either exploded or simply stopped beating, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least. His words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto your face. 

“Good.” You stated, putting out what little was left of your shared joint on the roof before moving to straddle him, and you might as well have pushed him off and onto the ground before with the way the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him. His eyes were so wide, so surprised yet so excited. “To me, everything is you, too.”

His eyes scanned yours for a moment before he released an incredulous, airy chuckle. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, however, as your lips met his for the first time and the world melted away.

word count: 3.3k ☀️ posted: 12 • 05 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for the request! I truly, truly enjoyed writing this for you. I just sat here and the words just kept flowing and flowing and I just couldn't stop, so I hope you enjoy it! (Side note though: I'm sorry if this a bit darker for your taste, I read it back and was like 'yikes, didn't mean to start off like that'.)

Anyway! I appreciate your compliments, always. Your feedback is something I genuinely look forward to every time I post, and so I'm happy that we're mutuals out here supporting each other because honestly – you're a magnificent writer as well, so I can promise that every time I think of something new for you, I'll grab my phone and tell you all about it no matter where I am!

Again, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you!

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

Oneshot -Diluc needs a hug

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Ships: Diluc x reader

TW: ooc? ; borderline panic attack? ; nightmares

He was too slow, just like last time. He couldn’t save you. Must he lose everyone he cherished? Must he always be too slow or weak to save the ones he loved? Did Celestia hate him so? 

He cradled you in his arms, your body was cold, much too cold. He couldn’t stop the tears or sobs that escaped, unrelenting. 

Diluc jolted awake, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His breaths are short and heavy. Next to him in bed -where you should be- is much too cold. He panicked thinking his nightmare might actually be his reality until he heard the click of the bedroom door opening. There you stood with a cup of tea in your hand. 

“Diluc, are you alright?”   

Tears brimmed his eyes, threating to fall as he looked at you. Closing the door you quickly walked over to him, placing your tea on the nightstand next the bed. When you sat yourself on the bed, Diluc’s arms were immediately around you holding you so close as if you’d disappear into thin air if he didn’t, and to him and his still panic stricken mind, that was a very possible outcome. 

“Do you want to talk about it, love?” You spoke lovingly, voice barely above a whisper.    

His response was a simple shake of his head, opting to instead pull you closer to him. 

“There’s still some tea left, I could go get you a cup if you’d like?” You whispered fondly.   

His response was a simple “Just hold me please.” His voice wavered slightly as he tried to will himself not to cry. 

You pulled him impossibly closer, his head in the crook of your neck, and as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, the dam finally broke and his tears fell. His body shook with silent sobs as his tears stained your shirt --but you couldn’t care less about your shirt, your mind was only set on calming Diluc. 

“Please... Please d-don’t leave me.” His voice broke through the silence. 

“I’d never dream of leaving you, my love.” You cooed at him as you shifted yourself and Diluc into a more comfortable position. As his tears slowly came to a stop, so did his rapid breaths as they evened back out in the comfort of your embrace. He eventually fell asleep, not long after by you, falling asleep to a pleasant dream with Diluc in your arms --the tea by the bed long forgotten.  

Fall Out Boy💚 Love this song!😍

“Corro—You do remember!” “Oh my god! Yes, of course. With a name like that, how could I forget?” “I dunno. You’re a freak”

Yes. We haven’t talked enough about them. And yes, they deserved a better ending. A happy ending.

(Note: the difference between guilt and shame is that ‘guilt’ focuses on specific acts or behaviors, while ‘shame’ involves the overall sense of self.)

Succulent - Kinich

Spiderman AU, where Kinich is Spiderman and you are the Gwen Stacy.

Kinich unknowingly explores the same suspicious temple as you, saves a few Saurians, saves you a few times, confesses his love to you. The basic stuff.

Notes: I have had major Kinich brainrot, especially with the sunflower edits of him on tiktok. So I took it upon myself to make a spiderman AU where he's spiderman! Yay! He's definitely OOC but I tried my hardest so please try to enjoy :3

(P.S. this stuff was written before he was released so this is not cannon!)

You were a simple researcher, wandering into the depths of Natlan. There was some elemental disturbance in some uncharted land underground, not wanting anyone else to get ahead of you, you embarked on your journey alone.

“Maybe I should've hired a mercenary.. Kinich would’ve been great.” you mutter. Kinich, a great mercenary, has such a cold demeanor yet he always stares at you and gives you such a warm gaze. You shake off the thoughts of your tiny crush as you slowly make your way through rough terrain. There were lava geysers all around and a hint of evil in the air, perhaps it was the abyss order.

You carried on, almost slipping into the multiple geysers all around. Thankfully you finally reached a safe point and decided to set up camp, just a simple tent and some traps in case enemies attack.

“Just a simple salad today, I have to preserve the meat for the hardest part of the adventure.” You say to no one aloud. 

You decide to mark down some observations of the cave you're in. So far you haven't come face to face with any enemies which is quite odd for an area with a highly condensed elemental energy. Perhaps someone has come before you. You mark off any important landmarks, different rocks, ancient markings. Sighing, you place your notebook down and shake your sore hand. 

“Time to sleep.” You stand up and stretch before heading into your tent for the night.

.

“Log number 18. I've still been searching for the cause of the elemental disturbance. Many enemies have appeared so I've done the reasonable thing and wiped them out. I do see a temple in the distance that radiates high elemental energy, so I will be checking that tomorrow but, right now it's time for me to rest.” Click. Kinich places down his recorder. 

“I’m not even getting paid for this gig. Why am I even doing this?” He sighs, leaning up against a nearby wall. 

See but Kinich knew exactly why, it was because of you. See Kinich had two jobs, one as a mercenary, one as a hero. He was known as Spiderman in Natlan, the way he would effortlessly swing with his grappling hook, and kill enemies of Teyvat as quickly as a black spider. He wore a mask in this identity, nobody knew who he was. Yet as he was weakened from an enemy far too strong and there he laid on the ground. You walked up, and instead of finding out who this mysterious Spiderman was, you kept his mask on, only pulling it high enough to wipe blood off his mouth. From then on he continued to have encounters with you, it always occurred whenever he got injured in battle, you were there by his side to patch up his wounds.

“I still don't even know your name.” Kinich reminisces about the moments spent together. “I'll get rid of this and protect you.” His promise fades away in the giant cave, nobody but himself to see it true. Kinich sets up a small sleeping bag, finally deciding to get some rest.

.

“New day, new adventure!” You say, trying to be optimistic. Although the truth is you could be farther from it. The elemental energy feels even more condensed than before, and there's this feeling of impending doom following suit. You quickly pack up your supplies not wanting to waste anymore time on this research trip. 

After what feels like hours, but in reality was probably no longer than 30 minutes, you see a temple in the distance. 

“This…” You stare at it from afar, shocked to even say a single word. The elemental energy that is pouring out from there is outstanding, there is definitely something suspicious going on. This is the first time in this adventure where you had second doubts, you definitely should've hired a mercenary, maybe Kinich. It's far too late for that now you decide as you begrudgingly step towards.

.

“These puzzles are definitely different from the ones we see around Natlan, right Ajaw?” Kinich looks at the strange mechanism.

“You really do suck if you can't get us through here. Wanna impress your lover researcher right? Right? Also why are you wearing that stupid mask, nobody is around.” Ajaw teases and questions the poor Kinich as he starts to get pissed.

“One I don't have a lover, two, this is for Natlan’s sake, something you must not understand, and three, I’ve gotten used to wearing it.” Kinich shoos away the now red Ajaw. “Finally figured out how it works though.” As he says that a door that was previously locked opens up.

“I see you've come to stop our plans once again traveler- ergh?!” A flame welding abyss lector pauses mid speech.

“Traveler? Do you mean the blond haired saviour going around helping people?” Kinich asks, recognizing the famous traveler.

“You're kinda totally ruining the plan I had dude.” The abyss lector says in defeat.

“What do you mean ruining the plan, huh!?” Ajaw yells, still upset about earlier.

“Well, the traveler and I were supposed to fight. After all, I totally ran away from our fight last time, heh. Just didn't wanna die you know?” The abyss lector laughs off his misfortune. “Nevermind that now I have to kill you, after all I can't have you leaking our information out and about.”

“Let's win this Kinich!” Ajaw says, trying to pump up his dear servant.

“Whatever you say I guess.” Kinich responds.

.

“These puzzles.. They're complete, someone had to have been here before.” You conclude. When you arrived at the temple you saw numerous doors open. There were many unfamiliar marks covering the temple head to toe, you only recognize a few as abyss symbols. Through careful observation you notice an odd placing brick on the wall, not wanting to inspect it with your own hands, you opt for a nearby stick. You take a deep breath in and push against the suspicious brick, allowing a secret passage downwards to open. 

“Thank god that wasn't a trap.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

After finishing writing down all the information you need about this current room you decide to explore this secret passage, it's basically just a bunch of stairs leading downwards.

.

“Shit you're one slippery guy, and what the hell is with that skill you're seriously like a spider.” The flame bearing abyss lector complains, definitely aggravated from the injuries inflicted on him.

“Yeah I tend to go by Spiderman, don't let the name wear out.” Kinich says, quickly using his skill to cover his eyes with his grapple, reducing his eyesight.

While covering the abyss lector’s eyes he uses a secondary grappling hook to start to spin himself, effectively wrapping the enemy up. 

“You damned brat! You'll pay for this!” The abyss lector yells while using his pyro skills, effectively destroying the web like wire that blocked his vision and disabled his movement.

“Too bad you weren't paying attention.” Kinich mutters, slicing his claymore against the back of the abyss lector, leading to its defeat.

“Ajaw, find anything of interest on his body, I'm going to check this machinery out.” Kinich orders Ajaw around, to which Ajaw complains but compiles.

In this room there's multiple computers showing different results, many different files of interest, and… a tube? Leading to where. Kinich is left to wonder. He takes a closer look at the tube to see a purple substance flow through it.

“Ajaw, find out where this tube leads, we'll switch jobs.” Kinich says, shoving Ajaw away from the flame abyss lector's body.

“Meh meh meh meh. Mr. Bossy-pants.” Ajaw mocks but goes right to finding where the location of the purple substance is coming from.

.

“I should've turned around.” You can't help but complain. You had been walking down these stairs for god knows how long, with barely any light, and no clue if there's enemies at the bottom.

“I'm so dead aren't I.” You cry. In the middle of you trying to accept your fate you see a brighter light. Hopeful that it's the bottom you pick up your pace only to be met face to face with, prison cells?

There were glass cells, no, chambers filled with Saurians, a purple substance being sucked out and pushed into a hole in the middle of the room. You take careful steps forward, heartbroken, shocked at the sight you're seeing. The dragon's that inhabit the lands of Natlan, being sucked dry of their elemental energy. This has to be the work of the abyss order, you conclude. You look at the seemingly bottomless pit in the middle of the room. 

“This is… despicable. How could they do this to innocent creatures?” You mutter, looking down into the pit with sadness.

“Oh? What's my number one fan doing here?” A familiar voice echoes in front of you.

“Ah, Spiderman-!?” You look up only to be met face to face with an upside down Spiderman.

“I'm not surprised you're here, but why are you here alone? You don't have a vision so this place is draining you of your energy.” A slight bit of concern covers Spiderman's voice.

“I had to explore. This cave was uncharted and I wanted to resolve this issue as soon as possible.” You answer his question, “Not to mention you're hurt yourself. When did this happen?” He just scratches the back of his head.

“Just had a fight just now I'm alright though. Had to win to see you once again.” Spiderman admits. “It looks like I'll have to have another fight though. Please stay back alright.” He says while pulling down his mask, just enough to show his mouth. He moves forwards enough to give you a light kiss against your lips. He gives you a smile before putting his mask back on and jumping right into the fight.

You stand there for a few seconds processing what just happened. Not only did the Spiderman just say he wanted to see you again, but he also just kissed you? You hear the noise of abyss mages getting hurt and remember what Spiderman told you to do, so you try to walk over to the other side, away from the fighting.

You watch in awe as the amazing Spiderman uses his webs to his advantage, dodging the attacks from abyss mages and using them to weaken the shields so he can do heavy damage with his claymore. You’re so enamored by his performance you don’t realize how close to the edge of the pit you get too.

“Finally done with these abyss mages.” Kinich mutters, turning to you only to see you dangerously close to the edge, with abyss mages behind you. “Watch out-!” Kinich tries to call out to you but it’s too late, the abyss mages push you into the pit.

Kinich is quick to react, quickly using his grappling hook to connect and grab you, which ends successfully. Only problem now? He had two electro abyss mages in front of him, his grappling hook unusable at the moment. The panic that Spiderman was going to lose his battle, and someone he holds close to his heart.

No, he thinks. He can’t let it happen again, he can’t. The few times Kinich opened his heart it was left broken, with the death of his father and now soon to be you. He can start to feel his arms weaken and-

“How did you beat me here!?” A scream comes from up top. Kinich’s eyes open in surprise, then his lips curve into a small smile.

“Ajaw, could you please get these mages out of their shields, I need to get our friend out of this pit.” He orders, no, commands Ajaw, to which he slowly complies. Ajaw begins to attack the abyss mages, holding his own as Kinich quickly pulls you up to the top, hoping you were still alive in his grappling hook. 

“It’s funny really, I don’t understand why a simple researcher like you caught my eye.” Kinich mumbles to himself seeing your body appear from the purple smoke filled pit. Admittedly Kinich was scared out of his mind when you weren’t moving, but a simple pulse check let him know that you weren’t dead, but unconscious. A huge wave of relief flooded Kinich knowing you were safe. That’s when he swiftly grabbed his claymore which he had disregarded and landed the final attack on the abyss mages.

“We’ll report this to the warriors in Natlan. They’ll free the surviving Saurians.” Ajaw suggests which Kinich agrees.

Kinich reaches up and removes his mask, his face covered with scratches, blood, and sweat. Yet even so, he smiles warmly knowing that you were safe.

.

Your head is spinning. You can’t see anything. You’re asleep. You have to just wake up. Wake up.

“Ugrh.” You groan, slowly opening your eyes to a recovery room. “Where am I?” You manage to speak out loud.

“You’re awake! I’m glad. See Kinich here found you in a temple and apparently you were all passed out, if he were later you might’ve died.” The doctor explains to you. Kinich? He found you but the only one who was at the temple with you was- oh. 

You quickly sit up surprising Kinich and the doctor who was at your side. You smile, “Thank you for the update doctor, but I need to speak with Kinich alone, if that’s alright.” You say weakly, nonetheless the doctor understands and leaves the two of you to your business.

“So, you’re Spiderman.” You state, waiting for him to deny, after all it can’t be true the the mercenary Kinich can also be the amazing Spider-

“Yeah.” He answers. Your thoughts pause, you freeze, and you just stare at him in shock.

“Why?” You ask, and he just tilts his head in confusion. “Why would you tell me your secret? I'm just a regular researcher, I don’t even have a vision.” You question, confused on why he would reveal his identity.

“It’s simple. Out of every fan I meet, you’re the only face I can remember, if I see you in a crowd I always tend to go into that direction. I may not even know your name but you show me with such care despite not knowing who I am.” Kinich confesses, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

“It’s right to be nice to everyone, even unknown identities.” You say.

“I guess you’re right, so will you humour me for a while and go on a date with me?” He asks you, looking at you with a warm gaze and a loving smile.

He sat upon a hilltop, watching out over the plane of existence he lived in. He was a demon, minor lord of a plane of Hell. Unfortunately, he was melancholic about his life and the position he was in.

His father was Lucifer, the king of fallen angels, and lord of all of Hell. His mother was Lilith, the first human. In this sense, he was closer to humanity than any of his siblings; the only child of the cursed, immortal woman who had never truly fallen – at least not in the sense that man had.

He had dark, curly hair, short horns growing from his forehead, and black, leathery wings. He wore only a simple tunic, with a belt tied at the waist. He needed no shoes, and he was discontent with his lot in life.

For he was a simple creature, in his own way – all he desired in life was to drink and be merry, to spend his existence harming none in his debauchery. But that was not his job – he was the child of Lucifer, the child of blue flame – he was to be a fearsome creature, a servant of darkness – but try as he might, he could never bring himself to harm a soul – even the blackest among the damned were spared his whip, for he was a gentle soul – despite his appearance and heritage.

He sighed deeply, as his brother came up from the other side of the hill. “Iscarbiel,” hailed the demon, “What are you doing?”

The demon, dressed similarly but with a blue skin and red eyes, pointed teeth and large, curling ram’s horns, a longsword strapped to his side, walked up and sat beside him. “Nothing, Jimarciel,” said Iscarbiel.

“Nothing,” said Jimarciel, gnashing his teeth, “Nothing seems to be all you do nowadays!”

Iscarbiel leaned back, onto the scorched black grass of Asphodel. “Leave me be, Jimarciel. You do enough evil for the both of us, is that not true?”

Jimarciel laughed, a haughty, unearthly rattle. “Indeed I do,” he ceded, “But it is not me that father cares about. You are his favorite, and he demands your presence. Good luck, little brother.”

Iscarbiel got up, stretched, and began walking down the hill, towards the blackened hellscape through the fields of the damned, towards the black castle atop a mountain. His ears numb to the screams of the tortured, he flapped his wings once, twice, and was lifted, flying upwards towards the castle in which he lived, and hated with almost every fiber of his being.

Landing on a parapet encasing a balcony, avoiding the wickedly-pointed spears every couple of feet, and climbing down, he walked into his room, down the stairs and into the throne-room of his father.

His father looked much the same as him, with pale skin and a goatee, but with straight hair kept short, and nearly three times the height of a normal man. Sitting on a throne of dragon-bone and cushioned with blackened fabric, he walked forward, between tables where demons and fallen angels sat feasting on roasted animal carcasses, drinking wine of finest vintage.

Lucifer was angry. Iscarbiel walked slowly forward, to stand in front of his father.

His father glared at him, and began to speak in a voice, deep as the fathoms of the ocean and booming like thunder. “My son… you are weak.”

The assembled court laughed at this, as they continued their feast. Slamming the butt of his pitchfork, the symbol of his rule, into the ground, Lucifer bellowed, “Silence!”

“You have not tasted blood. You are not a torturer, like Jimarciel, or a general of great renown like Falzlynnel. You are not a magus, like Arunic, or a soldier, like Varysin. You are… weak.”

Loathing dripped from every word he spoke.

“But there is hope for you yet, my whelp, for our guards have caught something that you can… play with.”

Iscarbiel would sweat, if his body could, and fear crept into him like a poisoned dagger. What would his father have him do?

“An angel, sent by my father, to spy on me. Caught by Jimarciel, and brought alive to our dungeons. You will torture it until it swears allegiance to me, and then slaughter it. This is my command; carry it out and your rewards will be great. But be warned,” he almost whispered, in a sibilant hiss, ‘If you fail me, your screams will be far louder and greater than any that now resound across my plane.”

Iscarbiel kneeled, silently, trying to think of a way out of this. None was forthcoming, unfortunately.

“Lonchoriel! Show him to his prey.”

A fallen angel, dressed in fine, purple robes, stood, bowed before Lucifer, and spoke, “Thank you, my lord.”

Lonchoriel lead Iscarbiel down a spiral staircase to the left of the throne room, not speaking as he walked down, down into the depths, beyond the castle and into the bowels of the mountain. Finally, they entered the dungeons, darkened cells where his father’s prisoners were kept. Down the hallway to the very end, where a large door was chained shut. Whispering the password to the door, a word in a language only pronounceable by demons and the damned,  he turned and walked back down the hallway, speaking a simple warning. “Do not fail your father.”

With Lonchoriel gone, Iscarbiel gulped, and walked into the room, not knowing what to expect. He had never left his father’s realm – he had never waged war on the heavens, and he had never seen an angel. From the words of Jimarciel he expected an alien, monstrous entity – something of fire and death, whose hatred of the hells knew no bounds. Something awful, no doubt.

But walking into the torture chamber, he saw something he had never expected to see.

She seemed so… normal. Inhumanly beautiful, with amber hair – but still, alike to his mother and to him. Human in appearance, but with the feathered wings of a pure-white dove, folded behind her. Chained to the ceiling, kneeling on the ground but with her hands suspended above her head, she appeared barely conscious, with superficial bruises and cuts probably incurred in her capture. Upon his entrance, she looked up, and he saw her eyes – humanlike, but with orange irises that matched the shade of her hair. She spat on the ground – blood, red like a human’s, mixed in with the saliva. “Do your worst, demon,” she hissed.

Iscarbiel was dumbstruck. Moving to stand before her, he began to try and sound intimidating, “Fear me, angel, for I am the son of Lucifer – the Morningstar, the Blue Flame, the Lord of Hell – fear me because I am here to –,” he stopped, slapping his forehead. “Oh, enough talk.”

He pulled a tray of torture implements towards him. He was pretty sure how most of them worked – or, at least some of them. Picking up a scalpel, he moved towards her, and she glared at him, looking him in the eyes, unflinching as he moved the scalpel towards the flesh below her right eye. Just as it was about to touch skin, he stopped, stood up, put it down, hyperventilating. “Nine hells damn it all,” he exclaimed.

“You aren’t very good at this,” she observed, watching him closely.

“No, no I am not,” he concurred, staring down at the tray and shaking his head. “I’m Iscarbiel.”

“Anabiel.”

“Charmed, I’m sure.”

They stood there in silence for a couple moments, neither speaking, wondering what they should do. He couldn’t bring himself to torture her, and she knew it. His father was right. He was… weak.

“So, Iscarbiel, what do we do now?”

“I don’t know, Anabiel, what do we do?”

“You could let me go,” she said, cheekily.

“You have absolutely no idea how impossible that would be,” he sighed. “My father doesn’t trust me to do this, and I’m damned sure he’ll check in before the night is done.”

“Have you ever tortured someone before?” she inquired.

“Nope. Never before in my life have I done something like this. I mostly hung around his courts, listening to my older brothers’ tales of glory, how they torture the damned and kill angels – no offense.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t offended just a little bit.”

“Well, in either case – I never had the stomach for this sort of thing. I’m a fan of decadence, I take to the wine a little more than most, but I’m not a torturer. Any recommendations?”

“Well, torture doesn’t normally come with this much banter.”

“I figured as much,” he said, sitting down in front of her, pushing the wheeled cart aside.

“What will I do,” he pondered, half to himself. “I can’t torture anything, never have, probably never will. But if I don’t my father will torture me.”

“He’d torture his own flesh and blood?”

Iscarbiel laughed, and pulled down the front of his tunic a little to reveal a score of scars, aged and healed whip-scars. “it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Anabiel went quiet. “I’m sorry about your father,” she paused, as if shocked that she had said something like that. “I didn’t think I’d ever say that to a demon,” she explained.

“Well, I’ve never met an angel in my existence, so I think we’re both in rather uncharted territory.”

“Shouldn’t we loathe each other with every fiber of our existences?”

“Probably,” he said, “But I’ve never been particularly demonic or malicious, even for a demon. Especially for a demon,” he paused, then the questions came pouring out, “Why did you come to Hell? If I left, I’d never come back. Ever. Why risk it?”

She bristled, and then began to speak, “I can’t tell you that. Is this your endgame? Pretend to be incompetent and then hope that gets me to spill all the answers? I have to admit, that’s clever.”

“No, nothing like that! Honest!”

She spat on the ground again. “A likely story. Get out of here!”

He got up, a little in shock, and walked out of the room. Outside, he found someone waiting for him. Jimarciel was standing there, a disgusted look on his face. “I knew you couldn’t do it. Father’s right, you’re weak.”

He pushed Iscarbiel aside, and with a wave of his hand, disguised himself perfectly as Iscarbiel. “Leave,” he said. “I’m going to make her talk, and you’ll get the credit for it. I hate your weakness,” he growled, “But you are my blood, for better or for worse.”

As Jimarciel turned to the door, Iscarbiel grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t do it, Jii.”

Jimarciel turned back, and pushed Iscarbiel across the hall, to the base of the stairs. “And what will you do to stop me, whelp? You are a weakling. You can’t even torture a human soul – how could father have trusted you to torture an angel?”

Iscarbiel got up, shakily. And walked forward. “Back away, Jimarciel. I’m warning you.”

Jimarciel laughed and drew his longsword, blackened, infernal steel hissing with the evil with which it had been tempered. “Warning me, now, are you? Run away, you little fool, before I destroy you.”

Iscarbiel took a stumbling step forward, unarmed. Jimarciel laughed and took a stance, with his blade in position so it would be ready to strike. The air smelled of ozone as the blade crackled. “Don’t hurt her,” said Iscarbiel, shakily but resolute.

“Don’t hurt her,” mocked Jimarciel. “She’s an angel. She’s our enemy. Given the power, she would destroy us all. Don’t you care for your flesh and blood? Turn and flee, cur. It’s what you’re good at.”

A million memories flooded Iscarbiel’s mind. Of being bullied by his brothers, of Jimarciel and Falzlynnel laughing at him, beating him into a pulp and him being afraid to speak back. “Not anymore.”

Iscarbiel charged. He did not know what he had planned, but Jimarciel was ready. Driving the blade towards Iscarbiel, he expected an easy kill. But Iscarbiel was not so obliging. Diving into a roll, he went beside the blade, punching Jimarciel in the throat with all of his meager might.

Jimarciel gagged, a hiss, as his blade cleaved into the floor. Running into the cell, Iscarbiel grabbed a blade from the rolling cart of torture equipment. He looked at it, a simple enough dagger, and he readied himself to fight. Jimarciel growled, ripping his blade from the ground and turning to Iscarbiel.

“What will you do now, little one,” he hissed, “What will you do now that you’ve cornered yourself? I will take no mercy on you now.”

“I expected as much,” muttered Iscarbiel, readying himself to die.

Jimarciel laughed and charged forward, bloodlust making him foolish. This time he made sure to be ready for a quick dodge, but this time Iscarbiel was not going to dodge. Throwing himself onto the blade, he drove his dagger into Jimarciel’s heart. “What...?”

Jimarciel let go of his sword, looking down at the blade that had pierced his chest. The blade was of hell-forged steel, like his own. Pulling it out, he watched blackened ichor pour from the wound. Kneeling, then falling over, he moved no more.

Walking over to his brother’s corpse, with the longsword stuck through the right side of his stomach, ichor leaking from his pierced side. Groaning, he groped around on his brother’s corpse, finally finding it. His master key. Walking over to the angel, he unlocked her shackles. “Go,” he said, falling over and leaning on the ground, pain overwhelming, “Run. You can escape.”

Anabiel knelt next to him, lifting his head. “Go!” he hissed, barely able to breathe.

She put her hand to the base of the wound, then, reaching up, pulled it free from his stomach. He screamed, but she covered his mouth. Putting an ichor-soaked finger to her mouth, indicating silence, she put a hand on the wound, whispered a word in Enochian, and it stitched itself shut. “Come with me,” she whispered.

Catching his breath, he nodded.

They made their way up the stairs as quietly as possible, and he whispered to her, “At the top of this staircase is my father’s throne room. If I distract them, you can escape out the balcony at the back of the room. You can still fly, can’t you?”

She nodded. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll guard your escape and follow if I can.”

She looked worried.

“Don’t concern yourself with me,” he whispered. “I’m demonspawn, remember? I’m not capable of redemption.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and Iscarbiel ran into the center of the room, quite a sight, covered in black ichor as he was, both his own and his brother’s.

“Father!” he screamed. Lucifer rose from his throne, holding his pitchfork resolutely. “I’m tired, father. I’m tired of my brothers. I’m tired of this court. I’m tired of you.”

“Watch your tongue, boy! I have fought gods! Destroyed nations! What have you done, apart from embarrass my bloodline?”

Iscarbiel saw Anabiel sneak out the back, and he laughed back at his father. “Embarrass your bloodline? Don’t make me laugh! You were defeated, what have your fights wrought you but this wretched place?”

Lucifer howled, his appearance shifting as he took a more suitable size, similar to his son’s. His skin was black as coal and his face a triple, with one on each side save the back. The eyes of each face glowed crimson, and his wings burnt black and skeletal. “Know your place, boy!”

Iscarbiel drew his blade into a ready stance, ready to fight. Lucifer charged, his attack pattern more sophisticated than Jimarciel’s. Within seconds, he had gripped Iscarbiel by the throat, lifting him into the air. “What has the angel brought out of you, boy? What hidden nature is this?”

Iscarbiel saw Anabiel, wings spread, flying off of the balcony and away, further and further, into the distance.

“Love, father.” Iscarbiel choked out.

“Love,” sneered Lucifer.

Dropping the boy, he struck forward with the pitchfork, driving it through Iscarbiel’s chest.

“Love will not save you, boy.”

Iscarbiel lay back onto the floor as ichor drained from his body, and he blacked out, and saw no more.

 ---Epilogue---

Iscarbiel awoke in a white, formless landscape. Standing across from him was a muscled angel, who seemed normal enough, save for the third eye in the center of his forehead. Getting quickly to his feet, he stood in a defensive stance.

“Fear not, worm. I am not here to harm you. I’m here to save you, per my sister’s request.”

“Who?” Iscarbiel began.

“Don’t be rude, Metatron,” spoke a familiar voice behind him. Turning, he saw Anabiel.

“Anabiel! How-,” Iscarbiel stopped himself before he said it. How was he not dead?

“I petitioned my father for your return. He sent Metatron to draw you out of the void. I accompanied.”

“Why?”

“I saw something in you, Iscarbiel. Something no demon has shown before.”

Metatron began to speak. “I see all, boy. I was there when your father betrayed his, and his brethren like me. I see in you what was in him before he turned from the light. Bravery. Honor,” here he paused, “Love.”

“Your bravery in offering your life to save an angel was enough to make you an anomaly; expecting nothing in return made you a hero. And heroes deserve heaven’s blessings, regardless of their father’s sins.”

Anabiel gripped Iscarbiel’s hand. “Follow me,” she said, and lead him into paradise.

You’re a demon. A pretty awful one, might I add. You should have been an angel instead. The other demons constantly harass you for not fitting in or being like them. You end up falling in love with an angel and you have to convince her that you’re not like the others.

A Bad Day Interrupted

A bad day, just like so many others lately. No matter how you tried, moments of actual contentment and joy never seemed to last quite long enough to be a mental break from everything. You have been severely depressed for little over a month, but it seems like you finally ran out of tears. Good, you hated making people worry about you.

Looking at the time on your phone, you are disappointed it isn't time to go home. Work isn't bad; the work is easily completed in time and you work with the nicest people you know. However, it is exhausting to consciously keep up the charade of being happy.

You are concerned for yourself. Nothing had happened, you just awoke one day and just been depressed since. On top of that, you are also anxious and self-abusing. Not physically, though the gnawing in your stomach reminds you that you are not eating as much as you probably should.

A lot of the abuse is mental; the thoughts in your head ripping you down to the lowest level of self-deprecation you have ever been. Words are weapons and they are inflicting so much pain.

You look at your phone as it buzzes. A message from your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/whomever. Upon opening, it is a small video clip of a panda cub sitting on a rock. It sneezes so hard it topples over and you can't help but chuckle, smiling a genuine smile for the first time all day.

They knew you were going through personal issues and were helping you look for a good therapist. Everday, they would find ways to show thier love in addition to texts and saying so. You feel guilty but accepted the extra affection, reciprocating the affection as best as you could.

One day at a time, with the love of your life making sure you make it through.

Because you would and have done the same for them.

“I love how to movie ended with Neil at the play!”

Stop it guys y’all are being delusional. We all know what happens… Neil gets dragged home by his dad and he can’t tell his dad how he feels. He goes to bed not feeling understood with the pending doom of military school. It’s about 11 by now and Neil can’t sleep and he’s just so angry and sad and he doesn’t now what to do so he walks through the house and BOOM!!! Jk his dad wakes up and he explains that he was scared to tell him about theater after the events with the school paper so he lied and that he’ll still go wherever his dad wants he just wants to do theater on the side (he switches his majors but his dad doesn’t know that as of right now) so his dad agrees and let’s him continue at Welton and Keating keeps his job. I’m the end the poets all go to nyc and do whatever they want with their lives.

I have an idea that all of them can be happy

"Interesting, really." The red headed man put his hand up to his chin, thoughtful. His looks are quite well kept, as expected from a scholar. A little peach fuzz donned his face on the chin and sides, proper shoes and pants held up by a belt with an orderly ruffle shirt in ivory and vest in chestnut. As he could never without his ruffles, as impractical in the lab as they were. But he could simply tie them up, for his new experimental form of alchemistry.

"Yes, I know. Although; due to recent discoveries a few researchers and scientists, me included, are now speculating about the possibility that this predatory adaptation also resulted from our interference with humans- may I elaborate?" The merman flicked his shimmering tail in excitement, his scales have often been compared to labradorite, as been his eyes. His light, wavey hair, tied up in a messy bun with some strands hanging in his face, as the merman fixed his glasses as best they'd hold up, eagerly holding on to the boards of the dock. Grinning star-eyed up at the human, almost like a sea-puppy.

"Sure, darling. I am intrigued, do tell." He smiled softly at his lover as he began a tangent about his latest theories, based on his newest bioarcheological findings.

It's been a few years since Darryl moved to this little island, originally to indulge in his experiments and get away from his pressuring parents, who set up marriage proposals left and right. Luckily he got out of it by claiming to already be married to his work.

Never in a hundred years, would he have thought to encounter someone this engaged in scienc- just as engaged as he was! But there he was, at shore one night. Observing and noting constellations. He originally didn't want to scare off the stranger, but the sudden leap in his chest left no room for air, for his mind to think. But instead of scaring him off, the mysterious stranger seemingly found enjoyment in the conversation. His name was Whylt and he'd been around for quite sometime, apparently he'd heard of Darryl and was eager to meet him.

The two soon became friends. Close friends. And soon after that, even close to the point that one felt confident enough to steal a kiss in the secure darkness of the night, near the water and their now shared home. It felt like a dream come true, to Darryl. Even more so as Whylt opend up, told there was more to him and for the first time in their lives, they felt the sweet embrace of love in the soft sea breeze warm from the summer air, under the bright full moon. At first the redhead was worried. Worried he might just wake up in a shared bed with a poor lass, that he knew could never be loved by him as she deserved. Back with his parents, who know nothing but of a "good friend and colleague" of his. Worried that one day he might just wake up without this beautifully kind and smart being next to him, that the merman would flee and take his heart with him. But after one night as Whylt confessed similar thoughts and worries, they'd promised to vow to stay, until death do them part. And it's been quite a few years, a bit more than half a decade, since then.

"And have you made the effort to start writing yet? The papers for your theories?" The redhead grined smug, knowing full well his partner rather enjoys the practical part much more. As he earned a drawn out, dramatically bored sigh from the merman, his grin grew wider.

"Not yet, of course! I... Must find more evidence to prove or counter it. After all, I must consider all sides!" He breathed a laugh, trying his best to get around the mountain of paperwork waiting for him at his desk. Darryl let out a hearty laugh, bellowing into dusk and after a short moment, Whylt joined in. The merman lifts himself up onto the dock, temporarily exchanging his fins for legs.

"The food's ready too, if you'd like." The now two men help eachother stand up, the human getting kiss from his love, as they do.

"Thank you, dear. I love you, my little squirrel." He said laying is lips on the other's again, gaining the same form of affection back.

"I love you too, my little otter." He grabs the pale hand of the merfolk, to hold it up gently and adore it with another kiss. "Let's go, then." They smile at eachother smitten and content. In this moment and for many, many years to come.

“So mermaids and sirens are two different species?” “Just so. My people, what you call mermaids or merfolk, share a common ancestor to you humans, making us distant cousins. What you call sirens, however, are fish that evolved to look and sound like humans to attract their favorite prey.”

wish…

Fanfiction #2

Fandom : Dsmp

“Vibrations”

==================

By celestialwarden on AO3

°°°°°

Dream, Tommy decided, was a dickhead— and Tommy didn't listen to dickheads anymore. Not after Wilbur and his promises of grandeur, not after Schlatt and his stupid fucking decree, and especially not after Technoblade and his egotistical stories.So instead of jumping off his tower and watching his brains go splat on the ground by Logstedshire, Tommy let himself fall into the water.Or,Tommy runs away during exile and finds a place and people to help him heal. Set over a span of four years.

°°°°°

▪︎Status : Completed

▪︎Length : 121K word / 33 chapters

▪︎TWs : Graphic Depictions Of Violence

•Additional Tags : Minor Character Death , Temporary Character Death , Implied/Referenced Character Death , Suicide Attempt , Suicidal Thoughts , Self-Harm , Blood and Injury , Panic Attacks , Mental Health Issues , Unreliable Narrator , Emotional Hurt/Comfort , Fluff and Angst , Running Away , Selective Mutism , Sign Language , British Sign Language , Character Development , Platonic Relationships , Queerplatonic Relationships , Family Dynamics , Accidental Baby Acquisition , Hybrids , Minecraft , Angst with a Happy Ending , It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better , Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence , TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF) , Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) , Runaway TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) , Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) , BAMF TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) , Selectively Mute Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF) , welcome to the Sean Stan Army

[Link] :

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748201/chapters/73172268

Rate : 9/10 ”one of my favorite fanfictions where the story is very interesting given there is an OC and Sign Language, I really found it comforting too, and even though it's long It's worth it, the description is perfect and I feel like this story should have more attention, love the work” ❤️💙♥️

The two of us had our own goal, and we pursued it in our own ways. Thanks to your bright, warm light, I came out of the cold darkness, accepted my mistakes, and found happiness.