My Tumblr Needs More Watermelonracha

☆ Sentence Starters ☆                Dying

❝ I never thought it would end this way.. ❞

❝ I tried.. I tried for the last time… ❞

❝ Please remember me, it’s all I ask… ❞

❝ I’m not ready for this.. I’m too young… ❞

❝ Oh God— it HURTS so BAD! ❞

❝ I’ll watch over you always… ❞

❝ At least my pain will finally be put at ease… ❞

❝ Why me..? ❞

❝ At least I could protect you one last time… ❞

❝ Keep everyone safe for me, okay..? ❞

❝ I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… ❞

❝ This is it… this is how it ends. ❞

❝ Keep yourself safe… ❞

❝ Please make the pain stop.. ❞

❝ Just finish me, do it quickly, please…! ❞

❝ What– NO!!! ❞

❝ Why would you do that?! ❞

❝ NO! Keep your eyes open! You must survive! ❞

❝ I can’t live without you! ❞

❝ I’m so sorry… I couldn’t protect you.. ❞

❝ What have I done…!? ❞

❝ Oh God no, please, no.. ❞

❝ Please watch over me… ❞

❝ I’ll never forget you! I promise! ❞

❝ No, wait! You can’t die! Not yet! ❞

❝ What about all the things we had planned?! You can’t leave now! ❞

hi lia!!! i love your writing sm especially REDAMANCY IN YOUR GAZE. !!! so nicely written and hits me right in the feels ;w;

anywhoo i'm here to submit a request! hope this sparks your inspiration but if not feel free to delete it, ok? no pressure <3

i'm curious to see you writing angst, so can we perhaps have zhongli, xiao, kazuha, and itto with the situation/prompt: 'seeing their s/o reader dying'? bonus brownie points if reader died in their arms c: yeah i woke up and chose violence today ahah it can be in whatever format you feel most comfortable with!

ps. just reject this if you feel uncomfortable with the concept!! i didn't see a rule against this so i thought i'd drop by and ask. thank you and have a nice day <3 <3 <3

- 💠

★彡 KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED.

SUMMARY. you have left with a piece of their heart and you're never coming back. or in which you spend your last moments in your lover's arms, but you are already beyond saving.

CHARACTERS. xiao, kazuha, zhongli, itto.

GENRE. angst, established relationship, hurt with no comfort.

CW. character death (no specified cause), mentions of blood (no specified injuries), unintended anger outburst + shinobu cameo in itto's part.

THOUGHTS. thank you for liking my writing and sending in this painful request <3 i'm unsure how well i executed this and i'm looking for room to improve — but for now, enjoy this angst that me and 💠 anonnie offered! >:)

✰ masterlist.

XIAO's words fail him, a failure stuck at the back of his throat from the deepest parts of his beating heart. Such a contrast to your heart that no longer thumps at the same tempo as his.

He is supposed to be used to this — no, he should have grown used to this already.

The putrid stench of death, the pools of scarlet red on the ground and his clothes, the void in his chest that he can't explain every single time.

For eons and eons, Xiao has seen lives perish before his eyes; his comrades, innocent lives, monsters, all of them. That is what he is meant to do; an Adeptus lives to bear pain, to shoulder it with resilience.

So, then, what is this feeling? Ache like never before, a longing for a different outcome, a sense of denial he is unfamiliar with.

Xiao stares blankly at your peaceful face, eyes closed and undisturbed. As if you are only lulled by the soft tune of slumber and merely sleeping in his arms — but that is no more than wishful thinking, he knows this.

Yet, still, he dares to hope.

How ironic, the Yaksha has never gotten along well with the concept of hope. But here he is, gathering the littlest courage to hope that you'd snap open your eyes and laugh at his forlorn expression like you always would.

But you don't, and Xiao realizes he is nothing but a hypocrite.

The same pain he is supposed to shoulder oh-so fearlessly is here, gnawing at his heart and consuming it alive — for once, Alatus doesn't think he can bear it any longer.

He is alone all over again.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Death, an old friend of KAZUHA's that he never wishes to confront ever again. But that statement only reeks of blissful ignorance, doesn't it?

Death casts its gaze on whom it wishes and it takes and it takes, that is the natural course of life — yet, it has become far too familiar of an acquaintance in his life that Kazuha can't help but despise it.

In the back of his mind, Kazuha sees a vision he thought he has long bid his goodbyes to already. The booming flash of thunder, a sword pierced through the floorboard of the Tenshukaku, a fallen friend and a reminder that he was far too late.

This moment is all too familiar.

The darkening clouds above his head, his hands that cradle you close, and your scent that is growing fainter and fainter by the second. Kazuha rests his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his cries against your skin; but you are as cold as ice and snow, so unbelievably cold.

Has the curse of fate come to take from him again? Kazuha's heart is only one, but death seems to favor him so much that it keeps taking pieces of his soul little by little.

Once, a lingering pain he learnt to move on from. Twice, he lets it be this time. Thrice, he begins questioning, just what more does it want from him? His family, his friend, now his one and only lover; Kazuha isn't sure what is left of him now. So, so many have been taken away from him.

"[Y/N]," Kazuha feels ashamed of the way his voice breaks as he whispers your name. He can't even speak properly, but how can he when you lay so feebly in his arms? One movement and it feels as if you'll crumble to dust, unreachable and away from his grasp.

He still has so many haiku's to read to you, songs he wants you to listen to, places he wants to see with your hand in his. So many of them, yet those dreams are nothing but regrets now.

Death will never leave him alone, will it? Even if tears stain his cheeks, even if he pleads with his life, even if he wishes to trade his life for yours, Kazuha is powerless.

"I love you," the man presses his lips to your forehead, he spares no mind to the tears falling down his cheeks like a stream of water he'd drink a fistful from during his travels.

One last time, just one more. But his words fall on deaf ears, for you are already gone and you're not coming back.

Yet again, death has torn away another piece of Kaedehara Kazuha's heart.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

ZHONGLI drowns himself in complacent silence. He says nothing, he has nothing to say. The rueful sigh that escapes his lips is the only indication of the lid placed over the gaping sorrow in his chest.

The former Archon of Geo does not shed tears. If he cries, then would it have changed this outcome? No, it wouldn't. If he cries, then would it have lifted this pain in his chest for a brief moment? Perhaps, it would.

But if Zhongli allows tears to cloud his eyes, then hethese last few moments with you. Fate cannot be changed nor can it be severed, all he can do is embrace it wholeheartedly.

"Even if it hurts?" A ghost-like whisper hovers faintly above his ears, trying to shake his resolve. Zhongli affirms himself, "Even if it hurts." He doesn't acknowledge the littlest speck of desire to falter and say otherwise in the corner of his mind.

Even if it hurts.

After all this time, you are still as beautiful as the first day he laid eyes on you, Zhongli smiles as he closes your eyes with the palm of his hand.

Those gem-like [E/C] irises of yours that always stare back at his with such affection, your voice that greets his ears like a gentle melody, the raindrops of love you shower him in so generously.

He can't help but reminisce.

After all, reminiscence is one of, if not the most, loyal friend of his, unbound by erosion of time as long as there is someone who lives to tell the tale. Zhongli knows the story of you shall live, for he will be the one to tell it.

"Rest well, my love."

He will not forget you.

The former Archon of Geo does not shed tears. Yet, that day, the corners of his amber eyes begin to dampen just a little.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

ITTO swears he sees his life flashes before his eyes. He is frantic, flighty even as if waiting for someone to get this over with and pinch him awake. This feels like a nightmare, it's just a bad dream, right?

But the warm pool of blood pouring onto his clothes is real, too real to just be a part of his imagination.

No, no, no, this can't be happening.

"Shinobu—" Itto calls out to his deputy leader hurriedly, agitation all too present in his voice. But the anxiety in his stomach churns even worse when he sees the mortified look in Shinobu's eyes; he doesn't like what it alludes to, not one bit.

He pleads almost desperately, "They'll be okay, right? Right?!" Shinobu has never lied to him, she always tells him the truth and so, he waits for an answer.

Reassurance, some hope that everything will be alright, just anything — but he receives no more than silence. And it angers him, Itto can feel the frustration rushing through his veins to his heart and to his head.

His grip on your frail body tightens and a pained holler tears itself from his throat, "Say something, dammit!" But he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean to yell so harshly at her. He isn't usually like this, what is going on?

When in reality, the answer to his question is right there in his arms; your frail figure lying in his embrace is just a fact waiting to be acknowledged, but he doesn't want to accept it.

Do you expect him to just accept it like that so easily? You know he can't do that, he just can't.

"There is still hope, there is still hope," Itto chants to himself, but even a fool would know those words are nothing more than empty reassurance.

The so-called strongest Oni in Inazuma is so out of it Shinobu can't even gather the courage to point out the truth.

What will become of her boss if she tells him that you are no longer breathing?

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

© seelestia, july 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

this is stupid.

kuroo knows that better than anyone—knows that this is entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something he should not do—but you’re standing in the kitchen, covered in flour, and the words seem to fall from his lips as if they were always meant to be there.

“marry me,” he says, and he means it just as he did when he asked you yesterday as he kissed you goodbye, and just as he did the day before when you tripped down the stairs, and just as he would tomorrow if you said no.

but this time, as laughter spills from your lips, messy dough coating your cheeks, something stirs in him. something that he wouldn’t find yesterday and won’t find tomorrow and something that feels like hope, and delirium and you—and he thinks, if only for a second, that stupid isn’t even the word for it.

“you’re asking right now?” you raise a brow, motioning your fingers around your mess of a kitchen, and a silly little smile draws across his cheeks.

“i am.”

“i’m covered in flour,” you say.

and he grins, “yeah, and you should marry me.”

you shake your head, pulling your lips together, and you give him that look you always do; the ’maybe when we’re older and smarter and a little less prone to divorce’ look that he’s grown to dread.

because, yes, this is stupid—incredibly so—but he’s twenty-one and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get much smarter than this and you share a bed every night without killing each other, so, really, why not?

he holds his hand in the air, waiting to insist on asking you again tomorrow, but you laugh—soft and bright and something that aches like home—and a little okay rolls off your lips.

“what?” his fingers stutter in front of him, voice tugging at the back of his throat, and you laugh.

“i said okay.”

“you’re kidding,” he says, a little too dumbfounded for his own good.

“now why would i do that?” you reply, a little tease catching your breath.

(oh, you must be trying to kill him now.)

“because i asked you to marry me.”

“you did.”

“and you said yes.” a breath spills from your throat—happy little laughter swirling between you.

“i did.”

and he doesn’t know whether to scream, or cry, or maybe throw up, but he does know that you just agreed to marry him, so all three sound like a solid approach.

“i’m in love with you,” he says, hands reaching for floured cheeks.

“well i would hope so.”

and he rolls his eyes, pulling you in—lips meeting yours with a clash of flour and warmth and a breath of anything but regret—and he’s sure that he’d be stupid every day of his life if it meant being with you.

LULLABY

about a late night konbini run with nagi makes him reflect on how much he loves you

ft. nagi + f!reader

you’d done the impossible: lure nagi seishiro out of bed.

the sound of your text notifications wakes him, and he blearily reads over your requests for him to take you to the konbini down the street, dotted with doe-eyed emojis. getting up in the middle of the night was such a pain, but so was being without you. when you greet him outside with a sweet smile, wearing the hoodie he left at your house last weekend, he thinks that getting up was worth it.

the sleeves are long enough to nearly cover your fingers, cuffs rubbing against his skin as you hold his hand, swinging your arms lazily in between your two bodies. the buzz of cicadas and the scuff of his shoes against the sidewalk as he drags his feet are the only sounds until you let out a little yawn.

“are you sleepy?” he glances at you as you bump into his body, head resting against his arm.

“mhm,” you nuzzle closer into the fabric of his shirt. “you’re rubbing off on me.”

he wouldn’t mind that. he imagines what it would be like to fall asleep next to you in the familiar comfort of his room, and how your hair might look when you first wake up. would you let him kiss you awake, or would he have to brush his teeth first?

“what are you thinking about?” you look up at him, arm threading around his own.

“you.” he says, always so honest. something flutters in his stomach when you give him that smile he loves so much, leaning up to kiss his cheek. he uses the position to pull you closer to his side, letting you lead him through the sliding glass doors of the store.

nagi trails behind you as you grab a bottle of his favorite lemon tea, following you to the back of the store. he rests his chin on top of your head as you decide what you want, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie to hug you closer to his chest. the lights hurt his eyes, lingering sleepiness only encouraging them to fall closed.

even when you wiggle out of his grasp to go to the register, he keeps himself comfortable, hand sneaking into yours and leaning against your side. he doesn’t mind the cashier’s lingering gaze when he nuzzles into your hair, stuck to your side as you leave the store.

“wanna eat here? walking’s such a bother.” he squeezes your hand. he isn’t ready for you to leave him yet. you hum a reply, sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk.

he lets out a sigh as he sits down next to you, close enough for his thigh to brush yours. he pulls his phone out of his pocket, opening up his game as you grab half of your fruit sando from its plastic wrapper, whipped cream and strawberries between soft, squishy bread. he opens his mouth, and you hold it up for him to take a bite.

you take yours next, looking around as you chew. a stray, fuzzy dandelion catches your eye, and you pluck it from the crevices of the concrete, holding it up next to his face.

“it looks like you!” you smile, ruffling his hair.

he blinks at it from the corner of his eye, trying not to shiver when your fingers skim his cheeks as you tuck the stem behind his ear, leaning your head against his shoulder.

the soft breeze caressing his skin and your warm, comforting presence is like a personal lullaby, gently weighing down his eyes and guiding him closer to sleep.

he looks down at you and thinks he couldn’t have been met with a prettier sight. your long eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, squished cutely from where they rest against his shoulder. the light from the store’s sign glows against your skin, and he can smell your sweet shampoo from how close you are. your flyaways tickle his neck, and he itches to smooth them down with his fingers.

you’ve been in the opposite position so many times before, and he wonders if your heart beats just as fast as his is right now when he’s the one laying on you. maybe one day, he’d get to see you like this in the golden light of morning, shining through his blinds, rather than in the dim moonlight, with concrete digging into his ass uncomfortably.

he blinks when his phone vibrates; he was so distracted by you, he died. he swipes the game closed to rest his head on top of yours, intertwining his fingers with your own, pulling them onto his lap.

maybe he can convince you to spend the night with him and finally get the answers to all of his questions. 

he sighs as he thinks of how much of a pain it’s going to be to walk home, even more sleepy now than he was before. you hold up the last bite of your sandwich to his mouth, and his lips brush against your fingertips as he takes it.

he whines when your warm body leaves his side to stand up. contact with you was addicting; he couldn’t get enough, and if he could, he’d never be without it. you start to gather your wrappers, looking at him expectantly when he doesn’t move. 

“carry me?” he raises his arms to you. “it’s only fair. you made me come all the way out here.” 

“did you forget you’re 190 centimeters, sei?” you grab one of the large hands outstretched to you to pull him up, his body practically limp as you help him to his feet. as soon as he’s standing, he drapes his entire body across yours, hands cradling your waist.

“seishiro,” you whine out his full name, and he hides his face in your neck. “nagi.” he kisses below your ear, nose grazing your jaw.

“i don’t know who that is,” he mumbles, and he feels the goosebumps raise on your skin against his lips. “only know sei.”

“sei,” you reach up to rub his head. your tone drips in sugary sweetness, and he laps every word up. “please get off of me so we can walk home?”

“don’t wanna.”

you sigh, hand falling out of his hair. “fine. guess i won’t be able to sleep over then. we’ll be stuck here all night.”

you feel the drag of his eyelashes against your neck as he opens his eyes. “really?”

when he straightens his back, he’s met with your pretty smile, just for him, and he knows it’s the last thing he wants to see before he falls asleep tonight, and the first thing he wants to see when he wakes up tomorrow.

he slides his hand into yours once more, energy renewed as he pulls you toward his apartment. he slips your intertwined fingers into his pocket, warming you up as the nighttime chill covers the two of you. his eyes are lidded, limbs heavy, but he pushes forward. the walk home wouldn’t be too bothersome if he had you with him, especially if at the end, he’d be snuggled next to you in bed.

BLLK MASTERLIST ୨୧ JOIN MY TAGLIST?

ʚ taglist ɞ @thisbicc @anqelically @gojoest-main @jayvuu @lilacs4deb @iheartpieck @helenachii @0rah-s @swankiifiied @444ghosty @homocidal00 @leena-shii @pupwrms @tatsumessy @twayato

˚ ༻✿ Herbarium ✿༺ ˚

I would like to blame @bye-bye-sunbird​ and @yandere-romanticaa​ for my descent into Capitano hell. All I could do was write my longest fic in hopes of purging the brainrot……yeahh so pls enjoy my humble contribution to the Capitano agenda ;-;

Thank you so much to my dear friend @diodellet​ for peer reviewing this and helping me out with the Genshin lore!! I delighted in watching you suffer  ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, violence, blood, murder, psychological trauma, mention of child abuse, spice, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader described as physically weak and smaller than Capitano, this fic will most likely be considered OOC in a few years

♡ 10.1k words under the cut ♡

i. dandelion

You adore dandelions for the same reason that you despise them.

A tiny flower symbolic of love and freedom. The ethereal ghosts of golden petals adored even—or perhaps only—after losing their vibrant, sunlike forms. A soft blow is all it takes to breathe new life into the flower, for the seeds to embark on new journeys in a scatter of liberated parachutes and hopeful wishes.

Not all dandelions have the fortune of finding new homes, however. Some are plucked for human purposes and imbued with new value as sentimental gifts. Many are transformed into entirely different products such as food and wine. Others are simply forgotten, doomed to remain in their original area until death finally claims them. Regardless, dandelions are transient like any other flower and will eventually disappear from the world.

Your flowers are deprived of that fate.

Keep reading

How to write a kiss scene

requested by: anon request: How do I write a good kiss scene? As how do I describe it? What details or words would make it good?

What goes into the writing of a kiss scene?

details to incorporate:

the sensations in their stomach, their chest, and their knees

the way their breathing changes shortly before the kiss

the feeling of the other's hands

the texture of the other's clothing

the moment they realise they've reached the point of no return

the feeling they're left with after the kiss

words to use...

... to describe the kiss:

tentative

tender

hesitant

quick

soft

gentle

delicate

languid

feathery

familiar

exploring

hungry

heated

fiery

frantic

impatient

sloppy

messy

aggressive

... to describe how they feel about the kiss:

nervous

excited

giddy

anxious

apprehensive

ambiguous

surprised

reassured

certain

confident

relieved

eager

greedy

... to show what the lips do:

exploring each other

brushing over each other

locking

devouring

touching

sealing

pressing against each other

capturing

lapping

tasting

crushing together

travelling (the other's body)

trailing (down to the other's chin)

grinning into the kiss

caressing

lingering

... to show how their body reacts:

feeling warm all over

buzzing

humming

pumping/palpitating heart

clenching lungs

joy bubbling up

tingly stomach

warm chest

burning cheeks

sweaty palms

blood rushing through their veins

... to describe what their hands are doing:

tangling in their lover's hair

wrapping their arms around their lover's neck

intertwining their fingers with their lover

resting on their lover's hips

pressing into their lover's shoulder blades

cupping their lover's cheeks

touching their lover's chin

curling their arm around their lover's waist

resting on their lover's shoulders

grabbing their lover's collar

sneaking up under their lover's shirt

brushing over their lover's bare skin

lightly squeezing their lover's butt

focus on:

the sensations instead of what's physically happening. (the protagonists might very well not know themselves what is happening exactly, but they feel very precisely)

I hope this helps <3

Gestures that would make me fold :

(feel free to use <3 tag me when you write any of ittt, would love to readd ;] )

their hands on your thighs. gently caressing.

when he pulls you closer by your waist (BANGINGA MY HEAD, CRYING, DVSJXBAK)

"come here, say it again"

catching them stare at you in a crowded room

"good girl " SKNXKAJZ

BACK HUGS ! THEIR HANDS AROUND YOUR WAIST !!

when they wipe the corner of your mouth with their thumb

"let me teach you."

kisses that leaves you blushing and curling toes

"Please don't shoot me for this" *proceeds to kiss her* "lift your hips for me, love" AARON FJDJSKZ WARNER.

when they can't hold eye contact

when they can hold eye contact and many other things (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

'nothing makes me fold' when they smile.

when they rest their head on your shoulder >>>

veiny hands. COUGHS NERVOUSLY. haha..

when you say "shut up" and they lean closer to you with a smirk and say, "make me"

"come sit in my lap, babe"

"behave." (OK IM SAT. FUCKSIAN SAT.?)

"use your words, love. what-- do you want?"

[ 12:56 AM ] — rin itoshi

✩ ˛˚ . notes— because i headcanon that rin is a lightweight and when he's drunk he becomes a completely different person.

"hey, don't fall asleep here, it'd be a hassle to get you to bed"

rin takes note of your feather-light voice. he feels lightheaded and warm and giddy. his shoulders relax and heartbeat calms at the way your fingers lightly caress his cheek. he lets himself lean into your touch, towards your warmth that's almost beginning to lull him to sleep.

"mmh... 'm not sleeping, just resting my eyes" he slurs when your fingers brush his lips and rest there, you chuckle at the boyish grin he offers at the touch.

"you always say that rin, you shouldn't drink so much when you know you're a lightweight"

rin playfully bites your fingers at that, then kisses them, "don't call me that" he whines in a childish manner, puffing his flushed cheeks in a pout.

"that's your name, rin, what else am i supposed to call you?"

you suppress the laugh threatening to spill from your lips when rin attempts to send a glare your way. his bangs fall over his half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed lightly. it's amusing— the way he looks offended. a drunk rin pouting in all his glory, crimson blooming on his face and ears. it's a stark contrast to the perpetual scowl he has on his face.

his usual sharp gaze, now unguarded and soft is scanning every miniscule detail of you. he's confused and frowning and you want to run your fingers through his hair and ease those worry lines on his forehead.

and when you do, rin almost curls up in your lap like a cat.

he's big and heavy and drunk and he's completely forgotten all about that.

"don't call me by my name," he says. "tell me what you always call me"

you're sure you won't ever catch rin slipping like this again, and you don't waste a second to grab your phone and point it at him, "and what do i always call you?" you hate ( not really ) to tease him like this, but a flustered rin is a rare occurrence.

"call me your love" rin nuzzles closer to you, "tell me 'm your love".

there's an adorable desperation in the way his fists close on the fabric of your shirt, the way he holds you firmly close to him, and he's finally gazing up at you like a puppy waiting for a treat.

"rin, my love, let's please get to bed?"

you laugh at the way his eyes light up like a thousand suns. he parts his lips to speak, but not before leaving a chaste kiss on your lips "say it again"

"love, you're drunk, you really should just get to bed"

rin's smiling like a lovesick idiot, "then come with me" and you're smiling because it's all being recorded. he takes it as a yes, and when he's practically dragging you with him to your shared bedroom, rin's still smiling like an idiot and you're still laughing.

maybe you'll save this recording for when he's sober.

© seimirii 2023

Writing Tips

Words to Avoid

This does not include dialogue.

These can be used (of course, it’s your writing!) just try to make sure they are not overused.

❉

↳ tell & don’t show

➳ telling words force the reader away from the story; showing immerses them

➝ consider

➝ decide

➝ feel / felt

➝ got

➝ has / have / had

➝ hear / heard

➝ is / are / was / were / am

➝ look

➝ next

➝ notice

➝ ponder

➝ recall

➝ remember

➝ see / saw

➝ smell

➝ taste

➝ then

➝ think / thought

➝ watch

➝ wonder

❉

↳ extra & can be removed

➳ declutter your writing; keeping your story concise holds the attention of the reader better

➝ absolutely

➝ completely

➝ down / up

➝ just

➝ really

➝ totally

➝ very

❉

↳ vague

➳ don’t make the reader guess what you mean; show them exactly what you’re describing

➝ a little

➝ a lot

➝ about

➝ almost

➝ appear

➝ approximately

➝ few

➝ like

➝ lots

➝ many

➝ might

➝ more

➝ most

➝ much

➝ often

➝ perhaps

➝ rather

➝ roughly

➝ seem

➝ some (somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometime, somewhat, somewhere)

➝ thing

❉

↳ absolutes

➳ don’t give the reader the opportunity to find discrepancies in your story

➝ absolute

➝ all

➝ always

➝ complete

➝ entire

➝ every (everybody, everyone, everything, every time, everywhere)

➝ never

➝ none

❉

↳ adverbs

➳ be as concise and meaningful as possible; every word you use should be the ideal descriptor

➝ anything ending in ‘-ly’

➝ if you’re using ‘-ly’ there is a better verb or adjective to use

➝ angrily, quickly, sadly, softly, suddenly, etc.

❉

↳ continuous action words

➳ these words reduce the sense of urgency; keep your readers hooked by keeping the tension

➝ after

➝ as

➝ continued

➝ when

➝ while

➝ ‘-ing’ verbs

❉

↳ transitions

➳ transition words allow writers to avoid finding connections between sentences, but meaningful connections increase immersion and flow

➝ after

➝ also

➝ anyway

➝ as

➝ besides

➝ even though

➝ finally

➝ however

➝ later

➝ meanwhile

➝ next

➝ so

➝ soon

➝ then

dear, chapter one ♡

— series masterlist ♡ art

what have you done to me? cyno wonders, tearing his eyes away from your figure. it's tough, he thinks. it's tough looking at his worksheet when you're right there.

ah, wait—there he goes again, thinking of you in ways that friends shouldn't. you've always been right there, next to him, so how is it different now?

your arm brushes with his and cyno's heart nearly hurls from his throat.

wait, what?

blinking furiously, the boy begins to rub his temples out of spite. no way, he broods, no way. no way the brush of your arm got his heart soaring and no way—no way you...

nevermind.

"cyno," you say, and the boy nearly chokes on his own spit as his hands fly from his temples to the table, attention owed fully to you, because archons, you've always had it.

damn you, [name], is all cyno thinks.

"what?" in an attempt to mask his emotions, the boy's voice comes out harsher than anticipated, but oh, you can hear it in the silence: the soft edge to his words and the way his tone quiets a little as he speaks to you. look at him, look at him, dammit—look at him and see the way his vermilion eyes melt into pools of roses, dripping petals trickling with affection but archons, it can't be.

cyno doesn't have time to love, much less love you. you, who have been in his world but now own it. you, who have been his friend from elementary to high school, who have been his friend.

cyno doesn't love you; he never will.

"i need help." pouting, you point bluntly at the easiest math equation cyno has ever seen in his life, but still, he gives in.

he gives in because you're his friend, and not because the way your eyes droop a little makes his heart weep; not because he relishes in your attention and the way your eyes (oh, those lovely eyes) meet his fully because no one, no one, would dare to look at the cyno in the eyes.

no one but you.

"well," cyno pauses to examine your work, "some things just aren't adding up."

the boy resists a smirk once you glare at him, because archon, the way your lips curl into a feigned frown and your eyebrows narrow a little is simply so...

he shakes his head.

"you need to stop making jokes like that," you say, and his heart nearly stops. "i'm a fragile flower, you're treating me so rudely!"

he snorts, heart regaining its tempo from the false alarm because oh, oh, cyno would never dare to anger you—not when the possibility of the feigned pout on your face becoming real hurts him more than he'd like to admit.

"you're more like a weed," he comments dryly.

"i'm able to withstand even the harshest of conditions."

"and are a pain to remove." shrugging, cyno has to turn away from your prying gaze in order to calm the fervency of his heart because oh, there you go again, giving him that glare and all your attention—it's all his, dammit.

"here's my notebook, i have the examples written down," he says before handing you the papers. he can't take it anymore—he can't take the rage of his heart and the way it cries, it cries a pitiful tune, it cries your favorite tune and weeps whenever you don't notice.

you've hexed him, you've cast a spell on him and cyno—the top of the entire graduating class—has been reduced to a fool. but this isn't normal, he thinks, because we're friends. best friends, even.

do best friends click their tongue when your gaze leaves him? do best friends bite their inner cheek in envy as your attention now belongs to his notes instead of him?

cyno looks at you—the you whose attention belongs to something else, as per usual. cyno knows the direction of your gaze and knows when it's on him, he knows when you stare at someone or something else, he knows and knows, and archon, does it hurt.

oh, is it too presumptuous of him to wish for your attention solely to himself? is it too ambitious, to outlandish for him to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be the subject of your gaze, too?

"[name]," he says. he says your name, he says it just to say it. he says your name as practice for the future because even if the world were ending tomorrow, it would be the first thing he'd think of. cyno says your name, albeit quietly, because he would never dare to soil its owner.

"what?" you respond, not looking up. cyno taps your elbow.

then, you glance up at him.

and then, his thumb swipes against his chest. archon, he thinks, it's crazy. his heart is threatening to spill from his mouth and decorate you in the adorations he's kept to himself—his ribs are threatening to implode because oh, he's yours, he's yours, dammit, so do what you want.

"nothing."

you roll your eyes, and cyno sheds a barely noticeable smile.

you've ruined him—you've broken him down and built a palace of you. cyno doesn't know when or how, but the way you return to his notes only makes him wonder: when will i capture their attention fully?

when will you realize the muse you've created? when will you realize that you've painted the "canvas of cyno" a myriad of your favorite colors, your favorite shows, your favorite things?

and then, his heart stops.

oh, archon. he flicks his forearm. what am i thinking?

you're his friend; nothing more.

→ next chapter, interlude: what you've done to me

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