#Please read this book its an easy read and so adorable
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"Oh humans. Bless them, they try. "
#Johannes#The Eyes and The Impossible#Dave Eggers#Please read this book its an easy read and so adorable#Got me craving pupusas for real
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dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes)
dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene how I think an argument reconcilation scene could've went emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)
lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic
Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Mortal Argument Scene
welcome back dearies
lets not dally with this one and get right into it -
starting strong with emmrich reviewing his will and testament/s -
important, but not yet, so do go on -
the emphasis on will tells us alot. coming from a storyboarding background, its easy to see why the emphasis was put on will. emmrich chose mortality, and will thereofre face death head on, as will rook. but due to rook being younger than emmrich (in any capacity), emmrich states that rook will outlive him. now he hasn't said it yet, but his fear is about to rear its head. keep in mind throughout all of this that this man is scared of how much he adores you.
but in the same sentence, we've got, "You've... grown to mean much to me..." - head over heels in love, rip my heart out and serve it to you in a platter, my heart, body and soul is yours type o' love.
I just wanna shake him, oh i just wanna shake him like a bag of treats, but very aggressively. he is so obviously LYING, rook makes a comment earlier in the game about how he is a SHIT LIAR. it sounds the exact same. BUT, and I say but with a hint of 'ah -ha!', lets read between the lines -
I care for you Rook! Deeply. - man has never been down as bad as he is - emmrich has never felt love like this. But there are such years between us - shut up rn I shouldn't heap you with that burden - HERE. he knows that Rook loves him, he can feel it. I imagine between quests they hold eachother's hand as the read books together on the balcony. as they make tea. as emmrich shows rook his mothers recipes. emmrich knows rook loves him, he just doesn't realize can nor accept how much rook loves him.
bonus, BURDEN ME, Im begging you, to BURDEN ME.
DIVERGENCE
god it hurt to replay this scene 3 times
Path 1 - Please don't worry, Emmrich.
he also broke my heart by worrying because i too, love him
fuck this line. i love you but look, I get where emmrich is coming from, but no. no no no, no no. whats fair would the world to be ending and being able to spend every waking moment in eachothers arms, to spend the final moments of 'what if' craddling your insecurities and nurturing love. instead we at the end of the world, arguing, because both rook and emmrich are fucking terrified to lose eachother. something about 'being fair' to someone by 'leaving' them irks meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
solid and appropriate response
moving on because i have nothing nice to say
get his ass
emmrich is shockingly, overthinking the concept of death. ya know, that thing that cant be soothed or mulled over, pierces his heart and shakes his core? that, thing. yes shockingly, overthinking it. i get both perspectives here. Rook just wants to be taken serously and not for their age gap to come between the love they have finally found. emmrich so scared out of his mind he's trying to avoid it entirely. if you want a really gutteral playthrough before point of no return, pick this. I did, on my blind playthrough, it was a mistake, i cried alot.
unfortunately, very valid on both statement, but also true on both statements. Emmrich is both worried about Rook and insecure about dying. because either way, he loses rook, he loses his time with her. in this line of dialogue, emmrich is vry concerned with burdening rook with his death and the grief that will follow. Rook essentially tries to calm him in the worst way possible and it escalates. im not a fan of this dialogue path at all as the "at your age" comment is so out of pocket.
Path 2 - I mean something to you!
if you were to of told me that the purple rook option is the 'nicest' in these scenarios, I would...not believe you at all. It's still painful, but it's not an 'argument?'
strong start ngl
mans immediately defensive, but his tone of voice isn't raised like in the other scenarios. its more poised with care through it, more 'ugh, yes, i care about you, but this is about death'
in this dialogue path rook attemps to 'waylay' emmrich, aka, distract him and change the subject to something nicer, more comforting. though unfortnately, for people with crippling anxiety, nothing calms the mind when its in black and white mode.
eh, not what I would've gone with saying rook but ya know. eve before a battle, tensions high. still not great
emmrich wants to discuss being a burden to rook and rook is just not having it, im kinda into it.
again rook is trying to waylay emmrich into realising that he is overthinking things. however, to emmrich, this is real, rook may as well be dying in his arms rn. thats how real his fears are. we think back to emmrich being a child and losing his parents in a collapsed building accident. its likely he was there, and survived.
hence why it is so very important that we remember that his romance confirmation is the question, what would my parents want for me? and the answer is HAPPY WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU.
he is so terrfieid of death, and you and I both know, that when you have such a fear, it is amplified by 14747% when it is someone you truly care for. let alone the type of connection these soulmates have.
emmrich desperately pleading to talk about being a burden to rook, and rook is still just going, 'no', youre my burden now.
wee woo, a winner in my books because rook is not insulting his very existence or dismissing emmrich.
rook knows that emmrich is scared and would rather talk to him about being SCARED, instead of him being a burden because she fucking loves him and would never leave him.
rook is just as scared as emmrich but in this path, is trying to level with him. this is probably the one path where it concludes and I dont have a clear answer on who said the worst shit. i dont think any of them did, it was just riddled with concern, and a lack of communication.
Path 3 - Love scares you.
Rook pointing out the obvious. blunt and to the point. I do love that Rook is able to identify this straight away
Emmrich, taken aback by the comment by Rook, because it's the truth. he is scared because he loves rook. both by actually loving her and by how much he loves her.
"I can't... at my age" Is what this line is meant to be.
But once again, and we have discovered in previous posts, Emmrich has never considered himself 'worthy' of this type of love. And now that he has the love he has craved for decades, he considers himself too old. most likely due to his belief ssystem morphing over time to, "if it hasnt happened by now, it never will" probably in his 30's. Thats almost 20 years of doubt. We know Emmrich has been in relationships and involved with others since then, but nothing that even comes close to what Rook and Emmrich have. Keep in mind as well that Emmrich hasn't formed a connection with anyone in several years and has solely focused on work (i.e., lichdom) because what else do you do when you have given up?
straight to the point again
reiterating that this is a hard topic for him - kindness in this situation would desecalate emmrich and calm his mind, but unfortunately the end of the world takes no prisoners
man is terrified of love and the grief and vulnerability that embodies it
ouch
ouch
Rook's defensiveness and frustration reaches an all time high. rook wants the love of her life to tell her that he loves her, and emmrich doesn't want to burden his love with the grief that will embody her for the rest of her days. rook walks away feeling defeated, with a hole in her heart. emmrich is left with his overthinking thoughts, and most likely spirals.
Conclusion
In their facial expressions, and I have slowed them down to each frame per second whilst analysing, and both Emmrich and Rook share the same process of emotions after Rook's final statement.
Both Emmrich and Rook start out with a cross look on their face, eyebros tilted, eyes squinted, portraying anger, which is covering defensiveness, which is a defense mechanism for being vulnerable. After Rook says their final statement, this line is what 'pulls them out' of their defensive trances, but its too late, the damage has been done. Their facial expressions switch to a more, 'oh, oh that was just said', it turns to regret. the over arching theme of the game. they regret what they said, and their pride wont let them budge rn. the argument scene is important to the romance considering what happens next in the game.
"We'll talk when we get home, Emmrich. I promise." (the reconciliation line before fighting ghil)
hit me like a frieght train that did when i found out we were in the fade for weeks. emmrich, canonically, cries alone and has cold sweats at night when he is upset. do with that information what you will. it definitely happened when rook was gone. Hence why it takes Rook dissapearing in the fade for several weeks for their walls to collapse completely.
god fight, stuck in the fade, emmrich meticulously searching for rook, crafting the fake dagger, pulling them out.
At the end of the scene, Emmrich looks frustrated and devastated. the type of facial expression where it is clear he wish that conversation had gone differently.
Emmrich has low self-esteem, there is no simpler way to put it. This is apparent in the way he holds himself, in his mannerisms, and the way he reacts to rook expressing romantic interest in him. As two examples, consider the date with Emmrich, "apart from the compliment of your interest?", and in two flirt dialogue lines, he responds stating that he is surprised rook has shown interest in him. he wants this love SO BADLY, but he is so scared especially with how much death is around them. but emmrich is braver than he believes. it just takes, almost losing rook for him to embrace it.
phew, what a rollercoaster. ill have the mortal romance scene break down for you in coming days ♥
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#datv#datv spoilers#emmrich#emmrich romance#dragon age emmrich#emmrich volkarin#dav#da4#da4 emmrich#maeve ingellvar#rook ingellvar#rook#dragon age the veilguard#mourn watch#gif set#do not re use#rpg#veilguard#veilguard spoilers#dav spoilers#emmrook#emmrich x rook#emmrich dragon age
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The University and the Dorms We Hate
Pairing: [Jake x Fem!Reader]!University!Found-family au
I LOVED WRITING THIS FIC (14K) like it's so funny and loving and sweet and cute- yeah just read it guys. Can you tell I incorporated Loose? Try and find it, lol. I love writing 02z, they're so adorable.
So, I don't want to call this fic dark because it deals with some heavy things like depression, bullying and suicide (in context of sunghoon) and death in general. Mentions of ghosts, if you're scared of that. Lots of crack tho, It's all very funny. And soft. And found-family esque with Jake, Jay, Sunghoon and Y/N.
Please enjoy reading guys. I always appreciate feedback! Can't wait to talk and meet some of y'all. Would love making friends on this app. I can't think of anymore warnings to give so- enjoy! Also does anyone hate the whole tags thing? I swear it takes so long.
Summary: in which everyone that went to your university hated it- it was low budgeted and whoever ended up there made the worse decision of their lives. They were so out of funds that the boys dorm building collapsed, leading them to move into the girls’ dorm. Jake and Y/N hover in each other's lives before finally crashing into each other- protecting each other and their friends, Jay and Sunghoon.



Everyone hated Remnant University- the students, the faculty, the janitors, the registrar, even the pigeons that occasionally dropped dead on the quad. It was a cursed place, built not from vision but vanity- the brainchild of a man with too much money and far too much cocaine. He’d once called it his ‘gift to the people.’ The people, in return, had cursed his name into oblivion.
After his death- a coke-fueled heart attack in the university sauna, if the legends were true- the institution limped on. Tuition was cheap, admissions were easy, and something about the place drew in a strange crowd: brilliant minds with nowhere else to go, the kind of people the world chewed up and spat out.
As years passed, graduates clawed their way out through fake recommendation letters, falsified research papers, and internships that didn’t exist. Meanwhile, the next batch of the naive and desperate arrived- wide-eyed, hopeful, and doomed.
‘To all the students of Remnant University — welcome home.’
Y/N remembered staring at the banner during her orientation, its letters in gaudy bubble font, fluttering above the cracked main gate. She'd felt a flicker of awe then. Two years later, she couldn’t look at it without imagining setting it on fire. Home, my ass, she thought almost daily. She hated her classes. She hated the professors. She hated the eternal mildew stench that clung to the dorm walls and the way the lights flickered like a horror movie just before someone dies.
The campus itself was a patchwork nightmare- brutalist buildings long past their expiration date, lecture halls with ceilings that leaked when it didn’t rain, and an willow tree near the western edge that, according to campus lore, was cursed: a student had hung themselves from it every decade like clockwork. The library was missing half its books, the science lab still ran Windows 95, the food in the mess hall tasted like regret, and the only working coffee machine was in the faculty lounge, guarded like a sacred artifact.
Still, somehow, the place endured. Professors- the decent ones, anyway- stayed not out of loyalty, but out of pity. They knew Remnant had no soul, only suffering, and tried to ease the burden where they could.
And so, another semester dragged on, the sun too harsh, the wind too bitter, the future too far. And Remnant University, like a dying star, continued to pull in the lost and the brilliant, one pitiful student at a time.
That year, the boys dorm had given up, its foundation perishing.
It started with the water- or rather, the lack of it. Then came the black mold that bloomed across the ceilings like ink stains in a Rorschach test. The final straw was the collapse of the third-floor corridor during midterms, taking down three bathrooms, two residents, and the only functioning Wi-Fi router in the building.
Facilities blamed the students for “reckless behavior,” the students blamed the university for “being held together by asbestos and prayer,” and the administration issued a memo with bold Comic Sans that read: “This is an opportunity for community building!”
And so, with nowhere else to go, the boys were moved- en masse- into the already half-empty girls’ dorm.
It was chaos. Instant ramen wrappers multiplied like cockroaches, and hallways began to reek of Lynx body spray and unwashed laundry. Someone brought a pet iguana named Carl that no one could prove they owned- he just roamed freely, occasionally found sunbathing under the corridor light fixtures like he paid rent. Room assignments were haphazard; some girls returned from class to find unfamiliar boys lounging on their beanbags, raiding their snacks, or claiming, “oh, I thought this was 3B.”
The fact that each room had its own bathroom did little to soften the blow. Instead of fighting over communal showers, the wars shifted to noise complaints, door-slamming at odd hours, and passive-aggressive sticky notes about ‘the walls are thin- I can hear everything.’
One girl woke up to find her mirror fogged with the message “YOU’RE NEXT :)”- it turned out it was just her neighbor playing a prank with a Sharpie and a blow dryer, but the girl moved out the next morning anyway.
Y/N had to share her hallway with a group of engineering boys who mistook deodorant for optional and thought whispering at 2 a.m. counted as being quiet. One of them set off the fire alarm trying to microwave a boiled egg. Another kept trying to convince everyone he was the reincarnation of Tesla. The hallway now smelled like socks, rejection, and desperation.
“Community building,” Y/N muttered as they stepped over a broken chair in the common room. “They should rename this place Lord of the Flies: Campus Edition.”
Still, no one left. No one ever really left.
The university had a grip on people- not because it was good, but because once you were here, it was like the outside world forgot you existed. Transfer applications got “lost.” Emails to other universities were mysteriously flagged as spam. Even the local newspapers referred to it as “that place near the quarry” like it didn’t deserve a real name.
And perhaps it didn’t.
Remnant wasn’t just a university. It was purgatory with a vending machine and barely functioning plumbing.
Y/N just didn’t realise this shift was some sort of ironic blessing in disguise.
A few months later, the chaos mellowed out.
The loudest, messiest ones either dropped out, transferred, or mysteriously stopped showing up- whether from burnout, academic probation, or just giving up and going home was anyone’s guess. The dorm slowly emptied again, and for the first time in a while, Y/N could hear her own thoughts past 10 pm.
The air felt different- less like a frat party gone wrong and more like a hospital wing during visiting hours. Quiet, but laced with an odd sense of shared survival. The broken furniture in the hallway had been cleared. Carl the iguana had found a permanent home in someone's terrarium (rumor had it, he'd been registered as an emotional support animal). The scent of chaos was replaced by something eerily neutral detergent, maybe. Or resignation.
Just a few rooms down from hers lived Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon- three boys who, unlike most, had managed to settle in without turning the place into a war zone. They were quiet, mostly. Not the awkward kind of quiet, but the observant kind. The kind that made Y/N wonder if they were secretly plotting to escape this university and hadn’t yet told her how.
She didn’t know much about them then- just glimpses. Jake had the habit of doing late-night runs down the corridor with music blasting in his headphones. Jay always walked like he had somewhere important to be, even if he was just carrying laundry. And Sunghoon, well… Sunghoon gave off the unnerving energy of someone who was either extremely kind or extremely dangerous, and no one had quite figured out which.
Y/N and Jake didn’t really meet at first. Not properly. They just… existed in each other’s periphery.
It started with ramen. Y/N had a ritual- 11:30 pm, kettle boiled, seasoning packets dumped in without reading, and a long sigh echoing in the kitchen like a ghost with finals. The dorm’s shared kitchenette was useless, claustrophobic, and smelt vaguely like burnt cheese, but it was all she had.
That was where she first saw him.
Jake didn’t say anything. Just stood by the fridge, half-asleep and barefoot, pouring chocolate milk into a chipped mug like it was whiskey. She glanced up from her noodles; he met her eyes for a second, then looked away.
No nod. No smile. Just shared exhaustion, briefly acknowledged.
After that, it happened more often. Hallway crossings, leaving the dorm at the same time- same shoes, different direction. One would always pretend to check their phone. The other would act like the floor had suddenly gotten really interesting. But neither of them turned back.
Once, she was walking down the corridor holding a stack of textbooks too tall for her arms. He was coming from the opposite side with a wet towel over his shoulder. Their eyes locked. For a second, Jake looked like he might say something. But then he didn’t. He just shifted to the side, brushing past her like she was smoke.
Y/N told herself it was nothing. Just dorm life. Just bad timing.
But still, whatever corner she turned, he was there- leaning against a wall, tying his shoelaces in the lobby, digging through the vending machine like it owed him money.
Then, the air-conditioning in the dorms stopped working. It was bound to happen eventually- the units had been blubbering like dying whales for weeks, dripping puddles of water and emitting an odd smell that lingered like guilt after a bad decision. But for them to break down exactly when the weather decided to become an inferno? That wasn’t just bad luck. That was spiritual punishment.
The dorm quickly descended into a version of hell Dante probably left out for being too pathetic.
People started dragging their mattresses into the hallway where it was marginally cooler. Fans were hoarded like black-market gold. The guy in 207 tried to build a swamp cooler out of a mop and an old table fan. It worked. Briefly. Until it didn’t. And then the smell got worse.
The warden and management were flooded with complaints, threats, and one very poetic hate email that ended with, “This is not an institution of learning. It is a slow death simulation.”
Y/N tried ice packs. They melted. She tried sleeping on the floor. It gave her a backache and a sudden understanding of her mother’s sciatica. And of course, that was when she started running into Jake more- always shirtless, always looking unbothered by the heat, as if his body had negotiated a secret deal with the sun. And she knew he noticed her too- always in her training bra, always in her shorts, always with her hair up and neck sweating, mouth apart from panting.
It was probably the sixth day of the heat-wave. Y/N felt like she was boiling alive inside her own skin. Her shirt clung to her back, her legs stuck to the sheets, and the tiny desk fan in the corner had just given up with a sad, final wheeze. The water bottle she’d frozen earlier had melted into a lukewarm puddle beside her pillow. She had tried everything- a cold shower, lying on the floor, holding ice cubes to her neck- and still, the heat sat on her chest like a curse.
It was 02:57 am when she finally gave up.
She pulled on the first shirt she could find- which might’ve been slightly damp from sweat, but everything was- and slipped into the hallway, craving movement, breeze, anything other than her room’s still, suffocating air.
The hallway light flickered.
As soon as she stepped out, she heard a soft click- another door opening just down the corridor.
Jake- shirtless, barefoot, hair a mess of curls sticking to his forehead. He held a can of something cold- maybe soda, maybe hope in liquid form- and looked just as defeated as she felt.
For a moment, they just stood there, both caught in the dumb surprise of seeing each other again like this- past midnight, wilted by heat, lit by that awful yellow dorm light. Their eyes met. And unlike the usual glances they shared- quick, embarrassed, almost performative- this one held.
Jake lifted his chin slightly. “You heading somewhere?”
Y/N didn’t trust her voice, so she just jerked her head vaguely toward the stairwell. “Roof,” she said. “Maybe it’s less hell up there.”
He gave a tired, crooked smile. “Mind if I tag along?”
She shrugged. “Sure”
They walked in silence. The stairwell was even warmer, but there was something about the quiet- the hum of bugs outside, the faint creak of the building- that made it bearable. When they finally pushed open the roof door, a wave of hot-but-moving air greeted them.
It wasn’t cool. But it wasn’t still. And that felt like enough.
They sat on opposite ends of the low concrete ledge, legs dangling, watching the silhouettes of nearby buildings flicker in and out of the haze. The city lights blurred at the edges, like everything was melting.
Jake reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a popsicle- already halfway melted, the wrapper sticky and threatening to fall apart.
“Mango,” he said. “Don’t ask where I got it.”
He held it out halfway to her.
Y/N stared at it for a second, then leaned over, broke it in half with her fingers, and took her piece.
“Thanks.”
They sat in silence, eating sticky, sun-soft popsicle halves at 3 a.m. on the roof of a university that everyone hated.
After a long pause, Y/N said, “This place is a dumpster fire.”
Jake exhaled a laugh through his nose. “Yeah. But sometimes the fire’s kind of pretty.”
She looked at him sideways. He wasn’t smiling, not really, but his eyes had softened.
Y/N didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The night felt suspended- like even the heat had paused, waiting for something to happen. They sat there until their popsicles were gone, until their sweat cooled into goosebumps, until the roof didn’t feel quite so unbearable. And when they finally stood up, heading back down the stairs without a word, something had shifted. They weren’t the awkward kids that bumped into each other in hallways anymore; they weren’t strangers who shared glances near the kitchen anymore.
“I need your help with this essay.”
Over the last month, as the heatwave dragged on like some biblical sentencing, Y/N and Jake had made a habit of barging into each other's rooms with whatever excuse they could make up. Sometimes it was batteries, or help with the half-dead Wi-Fi router. Other times, it was Jake showing up at her door with that half-grin, asking her to suffer through a regrettable movie because Jay and Sunghoon wouldn’t.
It had become an unspoken routine- something neither of them remembered initiating. It just… happened. Like the way dust collects on the windowsill, or how sweat clings to your back before noon. Natural. Unavoidable. Comfortable.
Now, standing at the doorway of Jake’s room was Y/N, clad in shorts and her usual training bra, waving her laptop like it was proof of a dying emergency. Jay and Sunghoon, shirtless, slouched on the floor with their phones and half a pack of chips between them, looked up with matching expressions of surprise. Not the “what are you doing here?” kind- more like the “we’ve seen this before but we’re still not used to it” kind.
Jake, catching their gazes and the sudden silence, didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed the first shirt in arm’s reach- one that had been lying crumpled on his bed for at least three days- and launched it at her face.
“Put on a shirt,” he grumbled, not meeting her eyes.
Y/N peeled the shirt off her face slowly, one eyebrow raised, and then looked down at herself like she was only now registering what she was wearing. “You’re the one with no AC. If I die from heatstroke, I’m haunting this room specifically.”
“You already live here anyway,” Jake muttered, trying and failing to suppress the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He put on the shirt that she had discarded and stood up from the floor.
“Essay, please! It’s urgent.”
Jake rolled his eyes but followed. No socks, no phone, no hesitation. Just him, trailing behind her like it was a habit carved into muscle memory.
Y/N’s room was already open when they got there. She didn’t wait. She just dropped onto the bed, cross-legged, her laptop opened before the fan like it might keep the overheating processor from catching fire.
Jake didn’t ask what the essay was about. He just sat beside her, back against the wall, shoulders barely touching, both pairs of eyes fixed on the open Word document on her laptop. She handed him the laptop, letting him take a few moments to scan the contents of her half-written, unplanned essay.
“This looks fine,” Jake raised a brow in confusion, handing her the laptop back. “What’s your doubt?”
She paused, hesitant. Then she glanced over her shoulder, hair falling in front of her face, hiding the sheepish curve of her smile. “I don’t know how to finish it,” she admitted, voice low, almost guilty.
Jake leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes with a sigh- the kind of dramatic groan he saved just for her. It was half-annoyance, half-performance, and all affection. “You, a literature major,” he said slowly, turning to face her with mocked disappointment, “are asking me, an engineering student, how to end a paper on Jane Eyre?”
“You know the best AI tools,” she shot back, defensive but grinning. “I just need help with how to use them.”
Jake gave her a look- that look- the signature one, all teasing arrogance with a hint of theatrical suffering, like helping her was both the bane and joy of his existence.
“And what do I get in return?” he asked, head tilted slightly, eyes glinting.
“Nothing,” she replied, without missing a beat, eyes not leaving his gaze, offering just as teasing a smile.
The first time Jake had said that line- what do I get in return?- she’d just asked him to grab her an egg from the communal fridge. He had said it with that same boyish grin and mock-serious tone, and Y/N, completely unprepared, had felt butterflies scramble in her stomach. She’d stammered, completely thrown off, her tongue fumbling against her words.
Jake had caught on instantly, and with wide eyes and flustered hands, rushed to explain that he hadn’t meant anything weird by it- that it was just a joke- harmless, playful. Ever since, whenever he threw that line at her, she’d shoot back with a dry “Nothing,” and he would always chuckle, always let it slide, like it was their little inside joke sealed in silence.
This time was no different. He just shook his head, a smile curling at the edges of his lips, and pulled the laptop onto his lap to open a fresh browser.
That night, during dinner, Y/N sat in Jake’s room, Sunghoon and Jay accompanying them like they do most nights. Jay cooked ramen for everyone to share, some protein and vegetables to bring out flavour. Silence, but the slurp of their ramen buzzed out the space of their room. A movie played on Jake’s laptop, some contemporary drama Jay had been dying to watch so they barged into his screening.
“Did y'all realize it’s the fourth decade,” Y/N said, mid-slurping her noodles, eyes fanning across the faces of the three boys that turned to look at her with bewilderment. “Who do you think the next victim will be?”
Jake and Jay passed each other a glance- a glance only the pair could decipher- and then looked at Sunghoon who was staring at Y/N. Sunghoon only gave her a shrug and finished the last of his ramen. “What, that willow tree-suicide thing?”
Y/N nodded.
Jake would never admit it, but he feared that the next victim of the university’s willow tree curse would be Sunghoon. He and Jay only followed Sunghoon to this godforsaken university for the safety of their friend- their friend who had been struggling with depression and suicidal tendencies since they were in middle school.
The three grew up together- the same neighbourhood, same school since kindergarten, same course interests and same love for each other as they grew up. But, in middle school, the dynamic between them shifted when Sunghoon was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder after a suicide attempt and suddenly, Jake and Jay were constantly in touch with Sunghoon’s parents to make sure he was safe and not a danger to himself.
When high school began, the two made sure, with all the power that they had, that Sunghoon wouldn’t succumb as a victim to their school’s increasing bullying issue. They were often put in positions where they had to trade their lunch to some of the bullies for Sunghoon’s safety or sleep with girls they didn’t want to, just to keep peace.
Then, it was time to apply for universities and Jake and Jay applied to every university Sunghoon had applied to, even if their ambitions were different. When Sunghoon first said he wanted to go to Remnant University, Jake and Jay shouted “same!”- like it was muscle memory, like they had been practising, rehearsing. But they didn’t really know much about the university.
Its website looked decent, offering all the courses they wanted and saying all the right things with words like world-renowned, engaging, innovative, expansive. The pictures that appeared with a quick Google search were hypnotising- a sprawling campus with expensive architecture students studying on patches of grass and canteens. It wasn’t until the day they had to move into campus that they realised they’d been baited.
As their time in the shitty university went on, the amount of rumours and legends they heard never stopped. There were rumours about the founder of the university and how he died a coke-addict and a student rapist. Then, there were the legends about the haunted computer lab and how the second computer to the left of the third row had never been used for two decades because the last time someone used it, they got hit by a bus and died in a tragedy. There was also a rumour about how the library was haunted and no one dared to stay in it past 2 am. Then, there was the legend they dreaded hearing about the most- the willow tree suicides and its ten year clock.
This was a conversation Jake and Jay had an ample amount of times after they heard the rumours. Words of concern and fright spilling out in hushed tones when Sunghoon wasn’t around to hear them- either sleeping or doing laundry. They hated thinking about it, to even visualise a world without their best friend- but their thoughts were often uninvited, like a nightmare they couldn’t sleep out of.
But was it truly a curse? Was it really something worth worrying about? It felt ridiculous, honestly- to lose sleep over an urban legend tied to a run-down university. The last so-called victim, according to the story, had died a decade ago. That meant ten batches had graduated since, and a hundred more rumors had spun into existence. No one even remembered the names of the last three. They were just stories, passed around during late-night conversations when there was nothing better to talk about- like ghost tales shared over a dying campfire.
The first victim, according to their university’s confessions account, was a girl whose name was marred with rumours and scandals of slutty behaviour and leaked sex-tapes. She had hung herself on the willow tree, her neck snapped in half with no note, no warning- just hanging there like an abrupt full-stop to a sentence. The media- or the newspaper articles, said that it was due to sexual exploitation and no one believing her. Others said that the story was bigger than that- bigger than them.
The second victim was an engineering student- much like Jake, Jay and Sunghoon themselves- who had failed his courses and had no money to pay for tuition. His scholarship was taken away from him, so he took his own life. He, too, left no note or no warning which left the public and his family in a spiral of bewilderment and confusion- no one really knew what the real story behind his death was.
The third victim was a boy in his final year of interior design. Unlike the others, there was no clear tragedy leading up to his death- no grades slipping through the cracks, no scandals or whispers of wrongdoing. In fact, most said he was the perfect student: brilliant, well-liked, always the first to show up and the last to leave. One morning, his body was found hanging beneath the willow tree, his shoes neatly placed beside him, as if he didn’t want to dirty the branches with a mess. No suicide note, no indication of struggle- just silence. Some said he was cursed with guilt, others said he saw something- something he couldn’t unsee.
In fact, they found him with his eyes open- dead and empty, horrifyingly still, like the life had been drained out from him mid-thought.
Three deaths. Three decades. Three stories, told and retold in hushed voices, embellished by fear and the passage of time. Would there even be a fourth death to add to the list of stories?
“That’s just a stupid rumour,” Jay dismissed Y/N quickly, cutting in before Jake could say anything- his loose tongue and panicked expression already halfway to betraying him. Stress had never been Jake’s strong suit, and Jay knew that better than anyone. Once, back in high school, Jake had tried talking Sunghoon down from a wave of sadness but fumbled his words so badly, it only confused Sunghoon more and triggered a full spiral. Jay had to step in, damage control already a familiar role by then.
“You don’t think it’s true?” Y/N asked, surprised.
“Nope,” confidently, Jay nodded, maintaining eye-contact like his life depended on it- like Sunghoon’s life depended on it.
Perhaps Sunghoon was too distracted, but Y/N felt the atmosphere shift around her. Her eyes darted between Jake and Jay, a question forming on the tip of her tongue, cautious and apprehensive yet curious and personal at the same time.
Jake, sensing her peaked senses, dragged her away with the empty pot of ramen and bowls in one hand and her forearm in his other. He led her into the kitchenette, two floors below their room, in the name of dish-washing duty while she struggled against his impossible grip.
“What was that?” When Jake finally let go of her and moved to wash the dishes, pretending like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Y/N leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, staring at him like he owed her an explanation.
Jake tutted, tilting his head and staring at the remnants of ramen in the dirtied dishes, soapy water filling the basin. With his sleeves rolled up, he submerged his hands into the sink to start cleaning. “It’s just… it’s a sensitive topic for us.”
Jake refused to look at her, as though looking at her would make the conversation real, serious, heavy. He could still feel her gaze on him, now softened and apprehensive.
“Oh,” she sighed, letting her arms dangle to her sides. “Am I allowed to ask questions or do we move on?”
“It’s just,” Jake wasn’t sure what he could say- he wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to talk about it. This worry and fear for his friend was something he lived with for over seven years now, buried between blankets of secrecy between him and Jay. And now, for him to say the words out loud to Y/N almost felt wrong, illegal- like openly telling people who he voted for in presidential elections. “Sunghoon…”
“Oh,” Y/N nodded, chewing on her lips as the pieces clicked into place. It didn’t take a genius to understand why the topic was sensitive… she just kind of understood.
Sunghoon. Of course. The quiet, aloof, lost kid who looked like he carried the burden of the world most of the time- alright.
There was a moment of silence between them- just the hum of the old fridge, the soft slosh of water against porcelain, and the faint creaking of pipes somewhere in the walls. It wasn’t awkward, not quite. Just delicate.
Y/N straightened up, nudging his elbow gently with hers, her voice lighter this time. “You missed a spot,” she said, pointing at a stubborn noodle stuck to the bowl he was scrubbing.
Jake huffed out a breath, almost a laugh. “You’re annoying.”
“And you’re a terrible dishwasher,” she grabbed a sponge and joined him at the sink, her presence a quiet reassurance that she wouldn’t press further.
For a moment, they just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, warm water pooling over their hands and silence settling like a truce. Their hands sloshed against each other, consciously pinching and swatting, a grin cracking against both of their lips.
Y/N had a stash of mango flavoured candy that Jake had become addicted to when she first shared some with him. She didn’t know if it was a brand or if it had a name- she told him that she’s simply grown up eating it and her parents would buy it in bulk everytime it ran out. It was sweet and sour, a mix of tangy spice settling in as the aftertaste and Jake was absolutely smitten by its flavour. Seeing how obsessive he had gotten over them, she told him that she’d ask her parents to buy extra for him but for now, he had to suffice with the single piece she’d give him everyday.
However, it meant waiting for Y/N to come back to the dorm, which she usually did really late after standing around the college canteen with her friends, gossiping or complaining about their university. By the time she’d come back, he’d get impatient and complain. There were times he even wandered back into campus in search of her and her room key and her friends would find that weird about him.
“How are you that obsessed with this candy? We’ve all had it. It’s not that great.”
“You’ve got no taste.”
So, annoyed, Y/N gave him her spare key, along with her trust in him that he wouldn’t use it for anything other than taking her mango candy. No snooping through her things, no stealing her expensive packets of ramen and no playing pranks. Jake agreed, comically desperate.
His classes had ended early and he returned to the dorm, an overheated oven as the heatwave refused to subside even after two months. They were in a dry spell- it hadn’t rained since their airconditioners had broken down and the whole town was in a water crisis. This meant that the dorm only got a limited supply of water. If someone woke up too late, all the water would be used up and they’d have to suffice with walking around sweaty and sticky, wafting with the scent of heat.
Absentmindedly, like it was in his second nature, Jake walked towards Y/N’s room instead of his own, his bag slung over his shoulder and her key already ready in his hand. When he unlocked her door, however, he wasn’t expecting to find her still in her room, sitting on her floor still in her underwear. Her back rested against her bed, hair strewn across the mattress and clinging to her neck. When she saw him, she didn’t panic in her half-naked state. She had a pillow on her lap, hiding the parts of her she was most embarrassed of, scanning her laptop screen perched on the pillow.
“Didn’t you have class?” He asked.
Jake blinked, his brain buffering, but he didn’t say anything about her state. He didn’t need to. That was the unspoken rule now: you don’t acknowledge it. Not when everyone in the dorm had seen each other wilt under the summer heat like dying houseplants. Modesty had long surrendered to survival. Shirts were optional. Doors were left ajar for cross-breezes. Even the warden had started walking around shirtless, like he'd finally accepted the heat as god.
“Class got cancelled,” she said, leaning her head against her mattress like she was fighting for her life. The evenings were the worst when it came to the heat. She squinted her eyes close, feeling sweat dribble down her already wet neck and she reached to adjust her tangled hair on the mattress.
Chewing on the candy, Jake sauntered to sit on her bed, right behind her. “Let me,” he said, crossing his legs and gathering her hair in his fist. She leaned forward to give him more space, allowing him a brief glance at her glistening back. Silently, he started raking through the strands of her hair with his fingers, eyes slyly glancing at the Reddit tab open on her laptop.
“Why are you reading that?” He asked, referring to the r/remnantuniversity tab she had open. It was about the willow tree suicides, a whole discussion on theories and rumours and urban legends that surrounded it. He wondered if those contributing to these online forums belonged to his class- it could be the quiet kid that sat in the back like he was harbouring a familial secret or the overly enthusiastic girl who acted like she knew everything.
“It’s for an essay,” she said. “For my literature and sociology class- something about Verstehen.”
“And that’s the topic you chose,” his voice was calm, unwavering. He wasn’t bothered or angry, only a little scared and wary, like she was trending unexplored and dangerous waters. His hands moved to section her hair into three, attempting to braid it.
“Yeah, I just- I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s kind of perfect for our topic,” she sighed. “There’s an entire subreddit, everyone’s shit scared about it- look!” She pointed at her screen and Jake squinted, leaning forward to read what she was referring to.
Then she scrolled through the subreddit and there were huge paragraphs of what he assumed were explanations or speculations, newspaper clippings of what seemed to be reports of the suicides which he couldn’t decide if they were real or AI, and a video of a new channel reporting on an unexplained suicide by hanging in an unnamed university.
While Jake looked through everything she was showing him, his hands slowly braiding her hair, she chewed her lip in caution. “They’re saying all the suicides took place on April twentieth.”
“That’s barely a month away,” Jake said.
“Yeah.”
“Y/N, there’s really no way any of this is real,” Jake sounded like he was convincing himself more than her. “You know the internet, it’ll go lengths to make their lives interesting. All those creepypastas that were debunked- I’m sure this is one of those.”
“That’s exactly what many people are saying,” she nodded. “The sane ones, at least.” Y/N reached behind her to feel her hair that he had partly braided. He wasn’t struggling, just taking his time, working with care and warmth. “Hey, you didn’t mess it up,” she pointed out, teasing him.
“You’re annoying,” he rolled his eyes, continuing to braid her hair.
“Where’d you learn to braid hair?”
“My mom, I think,” Jake hummed. “My brother and I used to love braiding her hair.”
“You have a brother?”
“Yeah, he’s in Australia now,” Jake’s eyes sparkled at the thought of his family, his smile mirrored on the glassy screen of her laptop. She watched him through the reflection, arms crossed on her chest, lips spreading a smile herself. “He’s married with kids and everything.”
Y/N, turned around to pass him the rubberband on her wrist, expression of awe. “You’re an uncle? That’s adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, shuffling to lay down on her bed, his arms crossed under his head. He turned to look at her, watching her as she went back to her research.
Almost unapologetically, his eyes trailed down her exposed neck, admiring the braid he did for her, before locking onto her arms and her chest. This wasn’t the first time Jake looked at her like this, confused whether it was lust or just the fact that he was a boy staring at a half-naked girl in front of him- if it was passion or second-nature to him as a man. When he thought about it, he’d almost feel disgusted, to ever wonder what was under that pillow on her lap, what more could be discovered under those black panties she thought she successfully covered. Then there were her legs and her hands, slender and welcoming, like they were waiting for him to slide into.
Jake cleared his throat and pulled out his phone, attempting to distract himself. The heat didn’t help him and he knew if he took his shirt off now, his brain would run into overdrive.
“Jay and Sunghoon want to go bowling,” he said upon reading his missed messages. “Do you want to go?”
She didn’t say anything- just hummed like she was considering it, but was already reaching for a shirt. He knew that hum. It meant yes.
And a few hours later, they were standing under flickering neon lights in a bowling alley that smelled like bad nachos and better memories. Jay and Jake ended up destroying them- like, embarrassingly. Jake wasn’t even trying that hard. He bowled like it was something his ancestors trained him for. Sunghoon was busy trash-talking instead of actually aiming, and Y/N kept getting distracted by her opponents’ coordination- and the way Jake’s muscles flexed, the way his smile overpowered the room and the way his hair matted to his sweaty forehead made him look like something out of a magazine. But Y/N wouldn’t admit this, not to anyone, not to herself.
“Don’t laugh,” she said when the ball slid into the gutter with a tragic thud. “It curved. I saw a curve.”
“Yeah, it curved straight into failure,” Jay said, bumping Jake’s shoulder like they were on the same team in a war. They high-fived like idiots.
Later, they went out to eat at this cramped little diner Jay liked, the one with flickering menus and sticky tabletops that smelled like ketchup and some kind of old, overused oil. It was half nostalgia, half heartburn. Thank god both the bowling alley and this diner had air conditioning, because they swore they would’ve melted if they had to sit through one more minute of sticky air and heavy clothes clinging to their backs. Jake kept dramatically fanning himself with the laminated menu, Jay had unbuttoned his shirt two notches down, and Sunghoon was debating sticking his head in the freezer behind the counter.
Y/N, like clockwork, ordered ice cream mochi- the same kind she always got when they went out. It didn’t matter what mood she was in or what place they were at. If mochi was on the menu, she was getting it. She pulled apart the sticky rice covering with her fingers like it was a ritual, the cold mist clinging to her fingertips. She popped one half into her mouth and let out a small hum, eyes fluttering shut for a second.
Jake watched her without meaning to, elbow propped on the table, chin in hand.
“You’re really acting like this is gourmet cuisine,” Sunghoon said, deadpan, as he unwrapped a sad-looking cheeseburger.
“It is,” Y/N replied, all wide eyes and pure belief. “This is the good kind. The outside’s chewy and the ice cream doesn’t taste fake. Jay, taste this.”
Jay held up both hands in refusal. “I’m not about to get emotionally attached to frozen rice balls, thanks.”
Jake didn’t say anything, but when she wasn’t looking, he stole the other half from her plate and popped it into his mouth. Cold exploded on his tongue, sweet vanilla cream wrapped in the soft, elastic chew of mochi.
She caught him mid-chew. “You’re so mean,” she said, flicking a wet napkin at him.
He just grinned, cheeks full. “You’ll live.”
Then the conversation drifted, as it always did, to the three boys groaning about their engineering classes- Jay going off about a professor who mumbled formulas like they were lullabies, Sunghoon lamenting the four-hour lab that ruined his Thursdays, and Jake trying to convince them all that thermodynamics was a scam invented to humble mankind. Y/N didn’t say much, just listened, her eyes darting between each of them as they spoke, like she was watching some low-budget sitcom unfold right in front of her. She forked through her pasta lazily, twirling it around her utensil with quiet interest, smiling to herself at the way they all spoke over each other- complaining, defending, occasionally throwing fries across the table like punctuation.
Jake had a habit of overpowering his thoughts with his loud voice, like volume could somehow make his point more valid. There was always a grin on his face, dimples peeking through as he defended his case with the same stubborn energy he applied to everything else. He’d shake his head when he got frustrated, flinging his hair out of his eyes in that dramatic, boyish way that made him look like he belonged in some coming-of-age film. Jay, naturally, would shout back- voice rising almost on instinct- calling Jake delusional or dumb or both, words laced with exasperation and fondness. Their arguments were always the same mix of chaos and choreography, like they’d done this a hundred times and had the rhythm memorised.
Sunghoon would just sit back with his drink in hand, lips curled into a crooked smile, chuckling as he watched them bicker like an old married couple. He’d throw in dry commentary about how they could channel all this passion into actually studying, but that only made him a target. The teasing would shift seamlessly to Sunghoon, Jake and Jay now joining forces to poke fun at his notes or his caffeine addiction or the way he took forever to reply to messages. Sunghoon would roll his eyes, flipping them off, but his voice would get just as loud, defending himself with the same fire he mocked them for. And through it all, Y/N just watched, resting her chin in her palm, half-amused and half-softened by the sheer comfort of it all- how familiar and stupid and warm it was.
Then, like clockwork, their voices would taper off- first Jay slumping back in his seat with a huff, then Jake sighing dramatically like he’d just won a war, and Sunghoon smirking into his drink as if he’d been above it all from the start. They always found their way back to quiet eventually, their chaos softening into something slower and easier. One of them- usually Jake- would nudge Y/N with an elbow or flick a piece of napkin her way, and ask, “What about you, nerd? How’s your academic crisis going?”
Y/N perked up slightly, spearing a piece of her pasta and chewing it slowly, as if deciding where to start. “I have to write a new essay for my literature and sociology class,” she said between bites, shrugging. “I thought I’d write about our university and all those legends and rumours. There’s a lot on Reddit.”
Jay blinked. “Why?” he asked, already picturing the tab on her browser- r/remnantuniversity, a whole rabbit hole of conspiracies and dark theories, deep dives into campus lore. The willow tree suicides being one of the most talked-about topics on there, wrapped in layers of myth and fear. Jay remembered seeing the posts himself once- some of the comments read like ghost stories, others like diary entries from students who claimed to have seen strange things, heard whispers, felt watched. He found it oddly fascinating in the way only things that unsettled you at 3 am could be.
Y/N nodded, holding up her phone to show them a post she’d saved. “It’s perfect for what we’re studying. There’s so much there- collective fear, urban myth, ritualised grief. And people are still so scared of that place. Look at this: Reddit says the library isn’t actually haunted, it’s just psychosomatic, like mass suggestion. One of the seniors said they slept there overnight and nothing happened. But then someone else said their roommate went missing for four hours and turned up outside the willow tree. Like, how does that even happen?”
Sunghoon’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. “Why would you want to write about something like that? Aren’t y’alls essays meant to be filled with research paper citations and shit? You can’t cite Reddit.”
“I have my ways,” she rolled her eyes. “Besides, it’s interesting. I’ve always found conspiracies fascinating- that’s all I watch on Youtube.”
“You’re one of those girls,” Jay commented, letting a chuckle past his lips as he brought more food to his mouth.
“Screw you.”
Jake shook his head slowly, voice low and steady. “Now you want to test it out?”
Y/N didn’t say anything at first, only reached for another mochi, her fingers brushing against the cold plastic. “Just for a bit. Past 2 am, that’s when the weird stuff is supposed to happen. But I won’t go alone,” she added quickly. “I mean, unless none of you want to come.”
“You’re actually dumb,” Jay muttered, leaning in. “Like, stupid in the head.”
“She’s possessed,” Sunghoon mumbled, rubbing his temple. “This is how horror movies start. Girl writes a paper, disappears in the library, we all get haunted. No thank you.”
But Jake didn’t say anything right away. He just stared at her across the table, lips pressed together, something flickering in his gaze that wasn’t quite fear, but wasn’t exactly comfort either. Because even if he thought she was being reckless or ridiculous or completely out of her mind, he already knew it in his gut- he was going to follow her anyway.
“If I die in that library, I’m haunting you first.”
Y/N and Jake arrived at the doors of their university library at midnight, a bag of snacks and their study materials tucked under their arms, gripped not just with fear, but with the strange thrill of doing something they weren’t supposed to. The campus was quiet in the kind of eerie way that made your ears ring from the silence- no motorbikes revving in the parking lot, no late-night couples giggling behind the hostel blocks, not even the occasional scream of someone who'd just finished an assignment. The whole place felt still, like it was holding its breath just for them.
It had taken Y/N two whole days to fully convince him- two full days of persistent poking, half-hearted bribery, the promise of free candy, and a dramatic monologue about academic integrity and sociological curiosity that made Jake pretend to gag. Still, he showed up.
She had texted him “you don’t have to come, it’s okay” more than once, but he always replied with some version of “shut up, I’m already on my way.”
The library loomed ahead, grand and cold under the fluorescent lamps. The old sandstone walls cast long shadows, and the columns looked more imposing at night, like they belonged to something older than the university itself. Jake glanced sideways at Y/N as they stepped closer, her face lit by her phone screen as she reread one of the Reddit threads, eyes wide, smile crooked.
“You’re still reading those?” he asked, amused but tired.
“Just refreshing my memory,” she whispered. “Someone said if you walk in after midnight and ask the librarian’s ghost to help you find a book, you’ll see a girl in a red scarf standing in the philosophy section. But if you follow her, you disappear.”
Jake rolled his eyes, trying to hide his growing fear. “And you still chose this over writing a boring essay about Durkheim.”
“It is about Durkheim,” she grinned, holding the door open for him. “Just the cursed, Reddit version.”
They entered with hesitant steps, the automatic doors hissing behind them. The air inside was cold and clinical, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. The security guard was either asleep or didn’t care- they had a green light to wander. The library looked the same as it did during the day: rows and rows of tall shelves, the study desks with their tiny lamps, the far-off corners cast in deeper shadows. It wasn’t as hot inside, enveloped by cool wiring of a half-broken cooler.
Jake exhaled slowly and reached for a Kit-Kat from their snack bag, unwrapping it as loudly as possible just to break the silence. “You know,” he said, “if a ghost shows up and asks me about APA or MLA, I’m out,” he joked, trying to lighten his nerves.
Y/N snorted, nudging his arm as she pulled out her notebook. “Shut up and help me figure out if I’m insane or if sociology is.”
“Both,” Jake said, mouth full of chocolate. “Definitely both.”
They picked a long wooden table near the back, one with uneven legs and names scratched into its surface- past students immortalised in ballpoint pen and frustration. It was the kind of spot no one really liked during the day, too far from the outlets and close enough to the vent that it got way too cold, but tonight it felt perfect. Quiet. Tucked away.
Y/N opened her laptop and got to work, fingers tapping against the keys with the rhythm of focus, eyes scanning Reddit threads, cross-referencing journal articles, her screen glowing dim blue in the otherwise sterile yellow light of the library. Jake pulled out his textbook with the face of a man who had already accepted his own fate and flipped it open to the chapter on thermal systems. He highlighted in pink and underlined in green, switching colours like it meant something, mumbling equations under his breath that didn’t make sense to either of them.
Every ten minutes or so, Jake would glance at his phone and say something like “One hour and ten minutes till we die,” in a mock-dramatic tone that made Y/N flick a pencil at him. Sometimes, he’d whisper the most absurd lines from his textbook like it was poetry- “Entropy is a measure of disorder,” he whispered once, “just like your essay outline.” When she didn’t react, he’d nudge her ankle with his. “Laugh,” he’d whisper, “or I’ll actually start crying.” She snorted and kept typing.
Every ten minutes, they’d count down the time. Jake would glance at his phone, tap the screen, and announce the minute like they were waiting for New Year’s. “1:20,” he’d say. Then, “1:30.” Then, “1:40,” a little more hesitant each time.
By 1:50, the jokes slowed down. The air felt… weird. Not cold, exactly, but too still. Like the quiet had layered itself on their shoulders. Jake was no longer reading- he just stared at the same page, eyes unfocused. Y/N’s fingers hovered above her keyboard. The laptop’s fan hummed a little louder.
At 1:59, they looked at each other. Nothing dramatic. Just a glance.
And then, 2:00 a.m.
The moment it hit, the lights didn’t flicker. The shelves didn’t creak. No whispers crawled through the air. Nothing dramatic happened- not even a gust of wind from a cracked window or the soft echo of footsteps from an unseen hallway.
The library remained stubbornly ordinary. Books stayed tucked in their places, monitors blinked patiently, and the only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioning and their ragged breathing. Y/N stared at the time on her laptop- 2:00 am sharp- and then looked up, almost disappointed.
Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching with a yawn. “I was kind of hoping a book would go flying off a shelf,” he muttered. “Or like… the ghost of some stressed-out PhD student would show up and slap me for not citing properly.”
Y/N snorted, pressing her fingers to her temples like she was trying to read the silence. “I’m so disappointed,” Y/N murmured, smiling a little. “Should we stay longer?”
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, no. I came for the haunting, not an all-nighter.”
Still, neither of them packed up. Not yet.
They waited until 3 am, just to be sure. Just to say they’d really done it. That they’d stayed past the hour of whispers and shadows and all those ridiculous Reddit warnings. They didn’t speak much, just packed up their things in a hurry- it felt like they were kids again, afraid of the dark and needing to run to the kitchen for water in the middle of the night to escape whatever monsters were under the bed. The air still held that heavy stillness, like the library didn’t want them to go. But they left anyway, pushing the tall doors open with a little too much caution, stepping into the cooler, quieter night like survivors of something no one else had witnessed.
Their walk back to the dorms was quieter, too. Not tense. Just… quieter. Their hands brushed more than once, knuckles bumping awkwardly in the half-lit path, and for a while, neither of them moved away. Eventually, Jake gave in. His arm came up slowly and draped around her shoulders like it was something he’d been meaning to do all night. She didn’t say anything, almost relieved- just leaned a little into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You know there’s gonna be a shooting star tomorrow?” He said, voice low, almost sleepy. “Well, a meteor shower. Something like that.”
She hummed, looking up at the hazy sky.
“Everyone’s gonna be up on the dorm roof to watch it,” he added. “Jay and Hoon are bringing snacks and everything. You should come.”
She smiled without looking at him. “Are you inviting me, or telling me?”
Jake grinned, tightening his arm around her shoulders just slightly. “Both.”
The next night, Y/N climbed the rusting fire stairs to the dorm’s roof, drawn by the distant hum of music and the smell of sweet soda gone sharp with alcohol. The entire rooftop was full- blankets sprawled across the concrete, bodies tangled into lazy heaps, everyone dressed in their pyjamas like it was some kind of unspoken theme. Their university might’ve been falling apart at the edges, but somehow, they always knew how to make the best of it. Laughter echoed into the night, soft and unbothered, like the rooftop was a world of its own. People were singing, laughing, hugging and swaying with the music, glasses of alcohol lifted into the air. Somewhere, she saw the domestic Carl the Iguana perched politely on someone's shoulder.
She didn’t know who handed her the cup of spiked fruit punch- one moment her hands were empty, the next, something cold and red was slipping into her fingers. It tasted too sweet, a little too strong, and sticky like childhood. She moved through the crowd, eyes scanning for anyone familiar.
That’s when she saw them- Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon, walking over with the same crooked grins and half-lidded eyes. The night had painted everyone softer.
Jay raised his drink in greeting. “Congrats on surviving the haunted library,” he said, bowing slightly. “A scholar and a ghostbuster.”
Sunghoon snorted into his cup. “So… can we conclude all the legends are untrue?”
Y/N shrugged, the corners of her lips tugging up. “Probably,” she said, but she didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“Told you so,” Jake grinned and nudged her shoulder with his.
The heatwave had finally started to let up. The air was breathable again, and the rooftop was cool in that perfect way that made them forget how miserable the days had been. The sky above stretched wide and navy, dotted with slow-moving clouds and the faintest glow of city light bleeding into the edges. The first streak of silver split across the sky like a knife, sharp and sudden and dazzling. A soft gasp rolled through the rooftop, voices falling quiet as everyone tilted their heads upward, caught in the spell of it. More followed- long, brilliant trails of light cutting across the darkness, each one different. Some quick and flickering, others steady, glowing like they were made to be seen. The stars looked close enough to reach, like if you stood on your toes, they’d fall into your palms like warm coins. It was the kind of sky that made you feel small in the right way, like you were part of something old and beautiful.
Jake stood behind her, arms curled easily around her waist, the curve of his body slotting into hers like they were puzzle pieces. His breath was slow, brushing against her temple in warm waves, and when he rested his chin lightly on the top of her head, it was without hesitation. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose but he didn’t care- he was smiling too wide to notice, one of those real smiles that crinkled his eyes and pushed his cheeks up high. There was something boyish in the way he watched the sky, like all of this reminded him of something he’d once dreamed about.
Y/N leaned back into him, soft and quiet, her body folding easily into his. Her pulse, which always seemed to buzz around him, slowed into something steadier. Their hands weren’t even touching, but the closeness was warm and whole. She could feel the steady thump of his heart through his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing against her spine. It wasn’t new, the comfort, but it felt like something had settled.
Eventually, the sky quieted again, and the spell broke- softly, like waking from a dream you weren’t ready to let go of. The crowd shifted, people stretching their arms above their heads or collapsing into conversations, their voices warming back into the air. Someone from her literature class- Priya, maybe?- tugged Y/N into a half-circle of people sitting cross-legged on the rooftop floor, laughing over something mildly stupid. She smiled, nodded, and added a comment when she needed to. Her fingers were still a little sticky from the punch, and her cheeks felt flushed, but not from the drink.
Still, every few seconds, her eyes would stray- like clockwork, like gravity. Across the rooftop, past the swaying silhouettes of friends in old pajamas, through the mess of curls and blankets and blinking fairy lights tangled along the railing- until they found him.
Jake.
Leaning back against the concrete wall, hair a little messy, arms crossed. His glasses were back in place now, pushed up lazily with the back of his hand. He wasn’t smiling this time- not in that big, goofy way- but there was something soft in his face, his gaze heavy and quiet and locked onto her.
He didn’t look away. And neither did she.
It wasn’t dramatic or loud, no fireworks, no slow motion movie moment. Just a series of glances. The kind that made your stomach curl. The kind that felt like your whole chest had been pulled a little tighter. The kind that made you feel seen.
Her heart fluttered against her ribs like wings, like something light and dangerous had taken flight. And when he tilted his head at her, just slightly- like he was asking, “you good?”- she smiled. Not a big one. Not one meant for the crowd. Just a small, secret thing. And he smiled back.
The night came to a gentle, sleepy end. Laughter started thinning out as people yawned and stretched, peeling away in twos and threes, voices fading down stairwells. The rooftop cleared like a tide going out, and soon only the distant sound of someone’s playlist humming from a dorm window remained.
Y/N padded back to her room, still barefoot from the rooftop, pulse soft from the stars. Her door creaked open and the quiet inside was immediate, a contrast to the noise they’d just left. Behind her, Jake followed- not invited, not uninvited either. He leaned against the frame of her doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder raised slightly like he wasn’t sure if he was staying or just passing through. But he didn’t move.
He watched her tie her hair into a bun, the movement familiar and unbothered, like he wasn’t even there. She pulled her shirt over her head with a lazy yawn, tossing it to the chair by her desk, and moved to sit cross-legged on her bed. The room was dim, a pool of moonlight stretched across the floor, and she looked up at him like he’d been standing there forever.
She grinned. “Candy?”
Jake huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he stepped further in, finally letting the door close behind him with a soft click. He crossed the room, slow and deliberate, and stopped in front of her.
“Why do you seem so tense?” he asked, voice low, like a secret passed through a crack in the wall. His fingers twitched like they wanted to reach for her but didn’t.
Y/N tilted her head. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
She shrugged but didn’t argue. There was something in the way she looked at him then- barefaced and tired and warm- that made his chest pull in strange, careful ways. Like he wasn’t sure what line they were walking, only that he didn’t want to step off it.
She shifted, patting the space beside her. “Then sit. Maybe I’ll feel better.”
He sat down, his hands brushing her shoulders before he started to knead the knots there- careful, light, like he was asking permission. “You gotta let loose a little,” he breathed, eyes lingering on her exposed skin, words hanging between the space between his lips and her ear.
Y/N knew where this was headed- she wasn’t stupid. It was all the eye-contact in the hallways, the brushing on their hands, the way he hugged her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her like she was the most important thing in the world. And somewhere along the way, she fell into the little game he started, grinning back with tease, letting her hand snake around his arm when sitting together and watching movies, leaning into his touches.
Softly, she tilted her head towards him, eyes lowered and focused on her navy bed sheets. “You know, you don’t need to use cheesy lines, right?” She murmured, still not meeting his lines.
Jake’s hands stilled for a second on her shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the dip of her back before sliding down, slow and tentative, like he was testing gravity. His voice followed after a pause, low and uneven. “Oh, yeah?”
That made her look at him.
And he was already staring- like he always was. Like he couldn’t help it. His gaze swept over her face, soft and deliberate, until it landed on her lips and stayed there just a little too long. He’d been patient, perhaps too patient, all this while, waiting to touch her the way he was now, fingers ghosting against the clasp of her bra, lips just about to touch the curve of her neck.
There was a flicker in her chest- sharp and golden, like something about to ignite. She bit her lip, pulse stammering, and Jake exhaled like he felt it too.
“You’re not gonna kiss me, are you?” she whispered, teasing.
He leaned in, the tiniest bit, until their foreheads almost touched. His breath was warm, sweet from the leftover punch. His hands were still on her waist now, grounding them both. “Not unless you want me to.”
The silence between them was louder than music, thicker than the night. She could feel his heart pounding through the space between them, or maybe it was hers. They were close enough now to share breath, to blur edges.
“I can tell how bad you want it too,” he said, and it wasn’t cocky- just honest. The way she pressed her thighs together, fisted the bedsheet, chest heaving silently at the thought of whatever he was about to do next.
And at that moment, she wanted to close the distance. Wanted to crash into him with all the force of those stolen glances, those unfinished sentences, that first night in the library when his hand brushed hers and neither of them moved away.
But instead, she smiled- slow and lazy, like the heat of the night had melted her bones. “Then, what are you waiting for?”
And that was it. That was all the sign he needed.
Jake moved without hesitation, like he'd been holding his breath for weeks and finally got the chance to exhale. His lips crashed into hers, not rough, but urgent- hungry in the way someone is when they’ve wanted something for too long. One of his hands slipped into her hair, the other stayed anchored at her waist, pulling her in like she was gravity and he was done fighting it.
Y/N responded just as fiercely, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging him closer, chasing the warmth of his mouth, his neck, every inch of him that had lived in the corners of her thoughts. She barely remembered shifting onto his lap- just the way his hands found her hips like they’d been there before in some dream, the way he murmured her name against her skin like it was something sacred.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was everything that had built up between them- every brush of a hand, every late-night stare, every almost-kiss, every heartbeat that stuttered when they were alone. He touched her like he was memorizing, like he was afraid she’d disappear. She kissed him like she’d been waiting for the world to stop just long enough to feel this.
They kept their voices low, stifling laughs and gasps against each other’s skin, the thin dorm walls reminding them that the world was still asleep just beyond the door. The sheets twisted under them, breaths hot and tangled, every touch deliberate- like they had all the time in the world but couldn’t bear to waste a second. It wasn’t rushed or clumsy, it was careful and full of heat, the kind of night that felt inevitable. Like the universe had been pushing them toward this moment all along, and they had finally stopped resisting. And when it was over, when their skin was slick with warmth and the room was quiet again, it didn’t feel strange or wrong. It felt like destiny.
Jake and Y/N fell into dating the way you fall asleep on a train ride home- slowly at first, then all at once, like it was the most natural thing in the world. They weren’t flashy. They didn’t need grand declarations or picture-perfect Instagram posts. What they had was quieter, deeper, built out of real things: shared glances, inside jokes, sleepy conversations at midnight when the rest of the world was still.
Most of their dates were just the two of them- Jake was big on “quality time,” as he liked to say. He’d take her to cozy little restaurants tucked away in corners of the city, the kind with dim lights and too-good desserts. They’d sit in booths for hours, sometimes just talking, sometimes just existing in the same space- knee brushing knee, his thumb tracing patterns into her palm beneath the table.
Bookstores became a frequent spot, too. Jake had a soft spot for poetry (though he’d never admit it to Jay or Sunghoon), and Y/N loved the feel of worn-out covers and marginalia. They’d walk through the aisles shoulder to shoulder, flipping pages and pointing out titles to each other. She’d lean into him as they read the backs of paperbacks, his hand resting on the small of her back like it belonged there.
Arcades were chaotic in comparison. Jake was competitive and loud, and Y/N loved the way his eyes lit up when he won. She’d laugh so hard when he lost at air hockey that she’d nearly fall over, and he’d spend far too many tokens trying to win her that one lopsided bunny plushie she swore was “ugly cute.” She still kept it on her bed.
And then there were the days they weren’t alone.
Jay and Sunghoon had a sixth sense for crashing dates. They’d text “wyd” ten minutes after Jake and Y/N sat down somewhere, and somehow always appear wherever they were, drinks in hand, ready to clown.
One night, they all ended up at a rooftop café with fairy lights strung across the beams. Jake had his hand on Y/N’s thigh, their legs tangled under the table, and Jay groaned so loud the waiter turned to look.
“Do you two have to be so disgustingly in love all the time?” he asked, sipping his drink with way too much judgment. “I came here to eat, not to watch The Notebook: Live Edition.”
Y/N just grinned and stole a fry from his plate. “You’re just jealous.”
Sunghoon leaned back, arms crossed. “Y’all make me wanna throw myself off the side of this building.”
“You love it,” Jake shot back, completely unfazed.
“Unfortunately,” Sunghoon muttered, but they all laughed.
Still, despite the teasing, the group hung out constantly. Movie nights on the common room floor, late-night walks to the convenience store in pajamas, sharing playlists and trading clothes and collapsing into each other like family.
Jake never stopped being soft around Y/N. Whether they were alone or not, he always found her hand, always kissed the top of her head, always listened like she was the only voice in a crowded room.
One night, as they sat on a park bench eating ice cream- because Y/N insisted night walks deserved dessert- Jake turned to her with a look of adoration. He had a lot he wanted to say, all sappy words of love and affection and things she loved calling “cheesy filmy lines.” But he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“What is it?” Y/N coaxed, eyes wide with curiosity, tongue poking out to lick her popsicle. A chilly breeze went past them and they welcomed it, pushing out the heat wave successfully.
“It’s the twentieth in a few days,” Jake reminded her.
“Oh, yeah,” she nodded. “Don’t wanna risk not believing it?”
“Yeah,” Jake admitted. “It all feels so stupid.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she looped her arm with his, moving closer to lean her head on his shoulder. They sat that way in silence, eating ice cream and watching the leaves of trees rustle with the wind. Cicadas grew louder and their chests rose and fell in the sync. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just a few more weeks ‘till summer break.”
April 20th fell on a Saturday.
Jake didn’t say anything when he saw the date on his phone that morning- just stared at it for a beat longer than usual. The sun was already warming the floorboards under his desk, and somewhere in the building, someone was blasting a bad remix of a pop song that had been stuck in his head for three days. But even with the normalcy, the date sat heavy in his chest. He knew Jay slept in Sunghoon’s room that night, just in case, just to protect him or make sure he didn’t go off wandering into the campus.
But the rest of the day was still left.
He sent one message to the group chat- movie night in my room. 7pm. mandatory. no excuses.
Jay replied in all caps complaining about how he had plans (he didn’t), and Y/N sent back a heart. Sunghoon left it on read, as usual.
By 7:03, they were all squished into Jake’s too-small dorm room, the air already thick with the smell of popcorn and the low hum of some indie movie playing in the background. The lights were low, a throw blanket covered every surface that could physically hold a human, and the window was cracked open just enough to let the cool evening air slip in. A quiet playlist hummed beneath the noise of Y/N complaining that Jake had no good snacks (he did, she just liked to say that) and Jay dramatically tried to balance six cans of soda in his hoodie pocket.
Y/N had kicked her shoes off the second she walked in and claimed Jake’s bed like it belonged to her. She was now half-buried under one of his sweatshirts, legs tucked underneath her, hair messy and smiling softly as she scrolled through his playlist. Jake was on the floor by her feet, back against the bed frame, watching her like she was the only thing worth looking at.
Sunghoon, oblivious as ever, plopped beside her with a bag of chips and a hoodie that clearly wasn’t his (Jake’s, of course), already halfway through the first movie of the night. Jay sprawled across the carpet like a Victorian fainting woman, holding a worn-out deck of cards in the air.
“Okay, I’m gonna need full participation,” Jay announced dramatically, flicking cards across the floor like a magician. “If I’m giving up my imaginary date night, we are playing.”
“We never said we wanted to,” Y/N grinned, but reached down to grab her hand of cards anyway.
“You never want to,” Jay deadpanned. “And yet, I’m here. Suffering. With all of you.”
Jake snorted, leaning back against the wall beside the bed, one foot propped on the edge of his desk chair. “You’re so dramatic. You love us.”
“No,” Jay said flatly. “I love cards. You’re all collateral.”
The night went on like that- easy and dumb and warm. They played two rounds of Uno before Sunghoon started cheating just to piss off Jay. Y/N made Jake pause the movie at least three times to change the playlist. Someone spilled soda on the rug. No one got up to clean it.
Then they played Speed, then Jay’s own twisted version of Poker that had way too many rules and made Sunghoon suspiciously good at bluffing. At some point, they forgot the movie was even playing in the background. Laughter bubbled out of the room like it was overflowing. And it was enough. Not a grand gesture, not a revelation. Just the four of them, tangled up in a night full of stupid games and old music, and the simple magic of still being here. Y/N fell sideways against Jake, clutching her stomach at something stupid Jay said. Jake leaned into her without thinking, resting his chin lightly against her arm, grounding himself in the closeness.
But beneath the noise, beneath the ridiculous banter and snorting laughter and snacks spilled on the rug, there was a quiet kind of watching. Jake’s eyes flickered to Sunghoon every so often- not too much, not enough to notice, but enough to make sure he was still here. Still with them. Still laughing. The way his head tilted back when Jay said something dumb. The way he wiped chip crumbs on Jake’s hoodie sleeve like it was his birthright. The way he didn’t seem to know that today mattered at all.
They didn’t talk about it. Didn’t even hint at it. There was no heavy moment, no obvious pause in the night. Just warmth. Just presence. Just staying.
As the night dragged on, Jay announced he was going to physically die if he didn’t get water, and Jake followed him out to the vending machine. When he came back, he had two bottles, one he handed to Y/N wordlessly.
She blinked, reaching out and taking it. Her fingers brushed his. “You okay?”
Jake sat beside her again, this time close enough for his thigh to press against hers. “It’s past midnight.”
Y/N looked at the clock on his desk. 12:17.
Behind them, Jay was yelling about reverse carding his own reverse card, and Sunghoon was fake-snoring on the bed.
That night, out of pure fear and dissatisfaction, Jake had pretended to fall asleep hugging Sunghoon, forcing him to fall asleep too. Jake hugged onto him so tight, he was sure he wouldn't be able to breath for the rest of the night. Y/N covered the pair in a blanket before leaving the room with Jay. They shared a glance, a small understanding and gratitude before parting ways to go to their respective rooms.
The airport buzzed with that familiar kind of chaos- luggage wheels scraping the floor, boarding announcements echoing overhead, and the constant shuffle of people going places. But in the middle of all that noise stood the four of them, frozen in their own little bubble of time.
Finals had wrecked them. Jake looked like he hadn’t slept in three days before this morning. Jay had nearly cried over his last theory paper. Sunghoon dramatically claimed he forgot how to read halfway through exam week. Y/N's fingers were sore from typing essays and projects until 3 a.m. every night, fueled by vending machine coffee and bad lo-fi playlists. But they made it.
Somehow, they made it.
Now they stood in front of the departure gate, suitcases stacked on trolleys, backpacks slung over tired shoulders, the weight of an entire semester pressing softly on their backs.
“Well,” Jay said, clearing his throat like he didn’t want to admit he was getting emotional. “Don’t die.”
“Wow. Inspirational,” Y/N snorted.
Jake laughed, slinging an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He means: we’ll miss you. Come back in one piece.”
Sunghoon was leaning dramatically against his suitcase. “Same floor, same rooms next semester, right? I can’t have anyone else stealing my shampoo. It’s personal at this point.”
Y/N reached over to smack his arm. “I only borrowed it twice.”
“Twice a week,” he muttered, but his smile was soft.
“I’ll bring my mom’s kimchi when I come back,” Jake announced, remembering an old bet between Sunghoon and him. “You know, to prove that it’s better than the dorm’s kimchi.”
“That’s a low bar, Jake,” Jay deadpanned. “A literal shoelace would taste better than dorm food.”
There was hugging after that- tight ones, lingering a little too long. Someone may or may not have cried a little (Jay denied it firmly), and for a second it felt like a weird coming-of-age movie ending, the kind that faded out into a bittersweet pop song.
Jay and Sunghoon wandered off after that, joking about who’d forget the group chat first (Sunghoon swore it would be him, and no one argued). Jake pulled Y/N aside for one last moment before their flights were called.
Y/N looked up at him, taking in the soft mess of his hair, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes from too many sleepless nights, and the way his lips parted like he was trying to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Her throat burned, feeling her eyes water.
“Hey,” Jake, noticing her lips quivering downwards, stepped closer to her, a hand on her shoulder and head leaning closer to her face. “It’s just the summer,” he tried.
“But I won’t see you every day. Or at breakfast. Or brushing your teeth with your eyes half open.”
Jake laughed, that small, breathy kind. “You’ll miss me brushing my teeth?”
“I’ll miss all of you,” she whispered.
Jake reached out, gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. His touch was warm, grounding. “Y/N,” he murmured, like her name was something sacred. “I know I joke a lot, but I really mean it. I’ll come visit. I want to see your town, meet your friends, and walk the streets you grew up on. And I need that goddamn mango candy.”
Laughing, Y/N but back a sniffle. “You’re not just saying that?”
“I don’t lie about such things.”
She smiled, watery and small. “Then I’ll visit yours too. I want to see where you had your first kiss.”
“That was awful,” he laughed. “But sure, I’ll take you to that playground.”
And then he leaned in.
Not rushed, not like he was trying to prove anything. It was soft, slow, and sure- the kind of kiss that tasted like every unsaid word, like laughter under moonlight and movies shared at 1 am, like late-night card games and secret glances across the room. It was the kind of kiss that said I’ll miss you and I’ll wait for you and I’m so damn glad I met you.
Around them, the airport moved on. People passed, announcements echoed, planes took off. But for a second, they didn’t move. The world didn’t exist. There was only the warmth of his hand and the feel of her lips and the way their hearts beat just a little too loud.
When they pulled apart, her forehead rested against his.
“Go before I cry,” she whispered.
“You cry, I cry,” he muttered, trying to smile, but his voice cracked just a little. “Group breakdown in the airport.”
She laughed, even as she blinked hard. “I’ll text you when I land.”
“You better.”
And then, she turned and walked toward the gate. He stood there until she disappeared past the security check. Only then did he finally exhale, breathing words of love she couldn’t hear. Behind, Jay and Sunghoon were hollering for him to their gate, paying they needed to board “before the plane fucking leaves.”
And then there were final waves from Y/N, airport glass doors sliding shut, security checks and goodbyes swallowed by distance. But something about it didn’t feel sad.
Because they knew they’d be back.
Same floor. Same rooms. Same people. Just a little more grown.
#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen jake#enhypen jake angst#enhypen jake smut#enhypen jake x reader#enhypen jake sim#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jake fluff#jake sim#jake enhypen#sim jaeyun#sim jake#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x you#mine#enhypen fanfic#enhypen x you#jake sim enhypen#enha x reader#enha imagines#sunghoon fluff#jay fluff#enhypen crack
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she - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )



in which . . . the new girl down the street catches the attention of two brothers who grow infatuated with her.
( ghostface!chris x black!fem!reader x ghostface!matt )
warnings ; black!bimbo!fem!reader , ghostface!chris , ghostface!matt , obsessive!chris & matt , blood , gore , knives , mentions of death , eventual smut , threesome
"o𝒏𝒆, 𝒕𝒘𝒐, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕."
pt. 1, 2, 3, 4 💌
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆
it all went downhill in the small town of somerville when you moved in — down the street, the third house on the right side of the street. you'd been carrying boxes up towards the front door, your pretty pink bow holding back your dark hair in a high ponytail. you beamed, dimples accentuating as your brown skin glimmered in the sunlight that casted down on you.
you were unaware of the lingering eyes of two brothers, their gazes locked on you for what felt like forever. it wasn't until your eyes had unintentionally found theirs, your lips curling up into a soft smile as you lifted one hand in the air, the wind blowing past your mini skirt as you waved your freshly manicured nails at the two.
matt sturniolo stood dumbfounded for a few moments, but chris sturniolo was quick to wave back ever so slightly, a grin spreading across his freckled face as he licked his lips. matt eventually snapped out of his trance, waving back to you. you were a little confused on why they had stared at you for so long, your big, brown eyes widening curiously as you stared at them for a bit longer. you bat your long eyelashes before humming, continuing to move the boxes into your new room.
and that's how it started.
that day, matt and chris just knew they had to have you — and they would do anything to have you, at all costs. they brainstormed, planned, and came up with the perfect solution. they followed every path you took throughout the town, found out every little detail about you and what things you liked and disliked. it was quite easy to do really, you were so unsuspecting, didn't have a single clue about their intentions. you always pranced around with a bubbly smile, batting your eyelashes and saying your 'pleases' and 'thank yous'. they found it adorable, really — you were so clueless. matt and chris had done everything in their power to perfect their plan, making sure nobody got in the way of it.
one night, you were laying back in your back, a book your sight of interest as your wide eyes roved over the pages with inked paragraphs. you were so nose deep in the book, you had hardly looked up from it.
( if you did, you would've noticed chris sturniolo peering into your room, from the side of your window, in the bushes — even doing something as simple as reading a book, you looked oh so beautiful in your element. )
you were so wrapped up in the book's events, that the ringing of your landline had almost gone unnoticed by you — it rang eerily, causing you to gasp slightly as you slammed the book down, looking around your room in a startled manner.
your eyes swiftly traveled to the landline on your bedside desk, the phone still ringing — you let out a sigh of relief, hand on your chest as you picked the phone up from its stand.
at first, nothing but silence was on the other line — you could've sworn you heard breathing, almost like the person was waiting for you to speak. "hello?"
"hello."
it caught you off guard — the voice was deep, almost unnatural but something about the unnerving voice had an attraction to it. whoever it was was completely unfamiliar to you, yet you found yourself fully intrigued by the prospect of it.
"um, who's this?" your voice squeaks, nails tapping against your bare thighs in anticipation.
"i'm whoever you want me to be," the voice purrs back huskily, causing you to bite your lip as your eyes widen intently, "what's your name?"
you knew it was wrong, telling a complete stranger your name — you had no idea who this person was! yet against your better judgement, curiosity gets the best of you as you lean forward, lips curling into a small smile. "i'm y/n."
"y/n," he repeats, a small chuckle sounding from the other line, "pretty name for i bet an even prettier girl."
this makes you giggle slightly — it's music to chris's ears, he could listen to the sweet sounds for the rest of his days. and soon, he would.
"so stranger," you giggle unsuspectingly, toying with the phone's cord around your fingers, "why is it that you're calling a random stranger like me this late at night?"
"i've got a question for you, pretty girl," he says into the receiver, posing your interest as you hum, "what's your favorite scary movie?"
───
you hadn't told anyone about the phone call you got that night — you especially didn't want to startle your parents on your first day of senior year, because you felt ashamed.
see, you enjoyed the conversation with the stranger, much more thank you should have. you liked scary movies, a lot. it was wrong of you to be talking to someone you don't know, and it was even all the more embarrassing to find yourself waiting for yet another phone call from this mysterious man.
you were as clueless as the day they had seen you when you moved in — your eyes darted around the unfamiliar campus, nose scrunched in concentration as you tried to figure out were you needed to go and where your classes were.
you hadn't been paying any attention when you collided with a hard chest — a small gasp leaves your lips, apologies ready to spill from you as you timidly scooted back from them.
"i'm so sorry! i'm new here, and-"
"s'okay, darling," a voice tells you, his hand going to your waist as he steadies you upright, "y'got no idea where you're goin', do ya?"
you look up and meet four pair of blue eyes staring down at you, grins plastered on their faces as you examine their features — the one who had been speaking to you had middle parted hair, tousled across his forehead messily. he wore a plain white tee, a silver horse chain dangling from his neck as a few rings littered his hand. you were nothing short of mesmerized by him, and you felt your cheeks grow hot under his gaze.
the other brother looked exactly identical, save for the freckles that were scattered across his face — his sharp cheekbones were prominent as he licked his lips and grinned down at you, causing you to smile shyly. a beanie covered the unruly mop of brown curls on his head and a silver chain was on his wrist. both brothers were so handsome, and you had only just stopped staring once the brother with the beanie cleared his throat.
an embarrassed giggle leaves your lips as you hold the paper to your chest. "s-sorry again, that's my bad. i'm-"
"y/n," the ring-clad brother finishes quickly, causing your eyebrows to furrow as his brother nudges him slightly, "yeah, heard a lil' about you when you got to the office this morning. i'm matt."
"an' i'm chris," his younger brother states, nodding towards you, "let me see that, yeah?"
"sure," you squeak, holding the paper out to him for him to take.
matt watches as you readjust the pink skirt you're wearing, his eyes then roving over your breasts that sit firmly with the white, cropped shirt you're wearing along with it. like that day, a pink bow accessorizes your dark hair that's pulled back into a bun, showing your pretty dark skin against the daylight. gosh, matt could stare and stare at you for hours.
"alright kid, looks like y'got business math, spanish, an' english with me an' matt," chris announces with a grin, handing your paper back to you.
"you wan' spend the day with us, angel?" matt asks you with a grin, causing your cheeks to warm up.
the nickname catches you off guard, but you wanted to hear it fall from his lips over and over again. "mhm," you nod up at him, eyes wide as you beam.
"good girl," chris purrs, casually throwing his arm over your shoulder as he begins leading the way. matt walks with you on the other side, eyes occasionally darting to you.
it should've raised eyebrows and you should've questioned how quick matt and chris wanted to keep you under their wing — the way from that day forward, they monitored everything you did and everywhere you went.
you were oblivious to the obvious obsession they had blossoming for you.
( kiwi's corner 🥝💌 )
new series, yeahhhh😫😫. had this hoe BREWINGGG okay like i have everything planned out, i just need to write it ! this is based on a dream i had ab matt & chris and i couldn't get it out of my head & it was making me a horny mess. 🤭 anyways angels, i hope you all enjoy this! i love you forever muah, thank you so much for 3k. 💌
taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world
@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns
@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21
@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s
@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons
@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous @55sturn @yn-ws
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagines#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo texts#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut
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how to be a whole new student this school year (A MASTERPOST)⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎀📔
HOW TO BE BETTER THIS SCHOOL YEAR ;
TAKE ADVANTAGE. take advantage of extra credit opportunities, make sure to advocate for urself and take advantage in any way that u can. by simply doing ur homework you'll have a much better grade in the overall class which gives u wiggle room to make a mistake. but if ur slacking off on ur homework, ignoring extra credit opportunities AND doing bad on tests then ur basically setting urself up for failure. and by doing the opposite then ur setting urself up for success.
something i've noticed (and im guilty of this too sometimes) is that i spend so much time making my notes aesthetically pleasing that i forget to actually go over them which defeats the whole purpose of notes. theres nothing wrong with having fun and creative adorable notes that spark joy and happiness but PLEASE actually use them, trust me you'll love them more…💬🎀
furthermore understand that getting good grades isn't as daunting and difficult as u may have imagined. just remember to always do ur homework, take advantage of extra credit, projects are an easy test grade, and get things done as fast as u possibly can.
FIND WAYS TO STAY MOTIVATED ;
the best way to stay motivated is through ROMANTICIZATION. when u learn to enjoy going to school, your going to be motivated to do well in school. because school is so IMPORTANT not only for ur education but also ur future. so take school seriously. and if u wanna become an academic weapon for the long term the best thing u can do is learn to make the best of, and enjoy it. some ways to romanticize school include ->
♡ create a school playlist that embodies the school vibes that u wanna have : i have lots of new jeans in my school playlist : i rly like the songs cookie, ditto and hurt for when im at school
♡ creating a study blog or study group to hold urself accountable in a fun and healthy way
♡ ur appearance : if u go to a school where u dont have to wear uniforms, i strongly recommend getting dressed and getting ready meticulously bcuz when u look good, u feel good, and therefore u perform well. if u do wear uniform, wear accessories or hairstyles that make u feel and look pretty. i wear leg warmers with my school uniform and my signature is hair clips and barrettes.
♡ read at school : i always walk around with a book bcuz i like to read a lot but if reading isnt ur thing, listen to a podcast about something that interests u (i rly like true crime)
♡ take pride in ur notes : invest in cute stationary! i swear, sometimes i dont feel like studying but since my stationary is super cute and pink i get motivated to study just by looking at it lol. invest in quality stationary that u love and make ur notes look pleasing to you, and also effective. effective + aesthetically pleasing.
♡ doing homework/studying in the library : or at least changing the scenery and location that u do ur homework from time to time. do yk how boring it is to do work in the same place every single day? give urself a break from the places u see all the time and spend time studying or doing homework outside of ur home. in a cafe or in the library, inside or outside, just change the scenery a bit
♡ start a video diary : i started a little video diary with my friends so that we can remember our school memories. i just think its rly cute and a great way to bond with ur friends, make memories, and romanticize school.
try and formulate a PASSION for learning as a way to cultivate the school romanticization attitude. be passionate to learn and be an academic weapon…💬🎀
CHANGE UP ROUTINES ;
in my next point i talk about the importance of routines but its also important to change little things about ur routine. dont go and change the whole structure of ur school routine but make sure to add little changes to spice things up and not keep urself like a hamster on a wheel. i find when i do this i just feel a lot better and its easier to romanticize.
MAKE A REGIMEN ;
make a pretty basic routine to stick to, to make sure that u balance school and personal life. having a routine can make falling into line and following through with tasks a lot easier. its easier to do things personally when u MICROMANAGE urself. at least from my own personal experience.
ABOUT STUDYING ;
every single day study (at least for a little bit) ofc this will vary depending on ur personal schedule but the goal is to do a little bit of studying everyday, and if that isnt possible, designating 3 days a week to a thorough studying session.
the way that i divide my time with a study session is 40 minutes of work time and 20 minutes of downtime. during the 40 minutes of work time u need to LOCK IN. lock in on whatever assignment needs to be complete or lock in on whatever material it is that ur studying. ofc this'll differ between all subjects but dont study all subjects in one night!! thats ambitious, but i find it'll just burn u out so stick to studying for 2-3 subjects max.
HOW TO STUDY WITHOUT BURNING URSELF OUT ;
♡ get off ur device. literally put the phone down. 9 times out of 10 the burn out that ur feeling is just the dopamine detox and laziness
arguably, the most important aspect to prevent burn out is ENERGY management. when ur burnt out u can literally feel ur energy tank on zero, so regardless of all the study techniques, however effective they may be, if u can't even muster up the energy to do them then they're useless…💬🎀
♡ get PRODUCTIVE rest. what is productive rest? scrolling endlessly on tiktok is NOT productive rest. productive rest is actually letting ur mind and body REST. like, taking a nap, indulging in self care, or whatever relaxes u.
STAY ORGANIZED ;
find a tool and stay ORGANIZED. i personally use notion. and on my school notion i create a space for me to write my own notes, a calendar to put important academic dates, resources like passwords and logins, and a to-do list where i can put down some of my assignments. keeping everything organized is so so important. its non digital as well, make sure to keep ur desktop space organized, ur supplies and physical notes organized also. the more organized the better.
SOME POSTS FOR RESOURCES ;
how to get good grades without excessive studying - by yours truly
ways to romanticize school - @4theitgirls
studying methods + tips - by yours truly
youtube channels to help u out this semester - @4theitgirls
creating a study schedule and routine - @prettieinpink
how to study like rory gilmore - @itgirldiary
my studying plans as an accounting major - @iluvprettygirls
citation resources - @workitgurl
how to get good grades without excessive studying - by me
khanacademy.org
coursera.org
annualreviews.org
google scholar - research
google calendar - organization
notion - organization
#master post#honeytonedhottie⭐️#it girl#becoming that girl#self concept#that girl#self care#self love#advice#it girl energy#dream girl tips#dream girl#dream life#dreamy#hyper femininity#hyper feminine#pink academia#academic barbie#academics#elle woods#school#school resources#school tips#studying#studying regimen#academic advice#good grades#honor roll#study schedule#school year
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time you will not spend alone



joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3
Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.
You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.
It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.
Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.
"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."
She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.
"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."
You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.
"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"
You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."
She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"
You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.
Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.
It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve.
God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.
So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.
"How do you choose which ones to pick?"
"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."
She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."
You roll your eyes at her.
"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"
"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"
She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.
"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."
You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."
"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.
It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.
"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."
"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.
She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."
You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."
She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.
"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"
"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."
"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."
It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.
The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.
It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.
You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.
"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."
"Can you hold these?"
You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.
"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"
"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."
He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.
When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.
He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.
You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.
"Did you have a job already?" you ask.
"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"
"They're for you."
Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.
"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"
You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.
He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.
"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."
"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.
He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.
"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.
You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.
"I am pretty romantic," he muses.
It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.
And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.
Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.
So, you also do things like bring him flowers.
Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.
Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.
"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."
___
Joel is hiding something from you.
The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.
But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.
He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.
In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.
One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.
"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.
"Gimme a second," he calls back down.
"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"
Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.
Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."
You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"
The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.
"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"
"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"
Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"
The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.
"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.
"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.
"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."
"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"
"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."
She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."
"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.
You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."
"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."
__
You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.
And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.
"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.
The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.
"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."
"I think he'd say the same thing about you."
Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.
"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."
"Is he just telling everyone but me?"
"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."
You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.
Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"
You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.
A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened.
You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."
"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."
"Except what happens in my own home," you tease.
He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.
"I know I will."
You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself.
Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.
Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.
And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.
"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."
You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”
“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”
“Do you ever regret it?” you ask.
Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.
"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."
Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.
"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."
"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.
"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."
It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.
“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."
He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.
"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."
You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."
He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”
__
Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.
After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.
"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.
"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.
"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."
He shrugs.
You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.
The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.
The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.
"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."
His fingers press into your skin.
"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"
"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.
Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.
"I can work some magic right now," he says.
You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.
"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."
You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.
Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."
Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.
"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.
Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.
"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"
He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.
His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.
"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."
You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.
"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.
Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.
You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.
His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.
"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.
"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."
He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.
"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."
It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.
"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"
A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.
"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."
You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.
"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.
"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.
"And I want you to fuck me," you add.
It's Joel's turn to laugh.
"Now who's the romantic one?" he says.
You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.
His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.
"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."
"Flirt," you tease.
He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.
He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.
"Ready?"
You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.
Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.
Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.
"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"
You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.
He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.
"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.
You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.
Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"
"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.
"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.
"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"
Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.
"Joel?"
He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.
"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."
The confession stops you in your tracks.
"Oh?"
You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.
They're the same thing, really.
And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.
But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.
"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"
Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.
You gingerly take it from him.
"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.
You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make.
"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."
He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.
The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.
Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.
He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."
You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.
"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."
He runs his hand along your spine.
"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."
You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.
"What should I write in it?"
Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.
"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.
"All what?"
He shrugs one bare shoulder.
"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."
You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.
"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.
"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."
You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do.
The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.
Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.
You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.
"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.
He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."
You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.
"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."
“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”
How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....
WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion
SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)
CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you
ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that
ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you
ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes
ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes
ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice
ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel
ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever
ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already
ALBEDO
ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows
ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol
ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed
ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time
ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???
AL-HAITHAM
ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness
ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that
ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air
ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you
ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy
ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step
AMBER
ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you
ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness
ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--
ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!
ARLECCHINO
ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."
AYAKA
ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her
ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol
AYATO
ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS
ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc
BAIZHU
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho
ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol
ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-
ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"
TAGLIST ♡
@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#aether x reader#al haitam x reader#amber x reader#ayaka x reader#ayato x reader#baizhu x reader#arlecchino x reader#x f!reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#genshin impact paimon#genshin headcanons#genshin hcs
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I have been working on this au/ idea pitch for a small while now. It's honestly made me really excited and such to create so I feel it's finally time to share it.
Introducing:
The Red string au ❤
An au focusing on Mareach and Lueasley. It's still a work in progress so none of the lueasley content is ready yet. But all of the mareach stuff is! So I thought it would be cool to share that!
Below has all my blurb/ fanfic writings about the au and story. Please enjoy my 7K words of Red string au 💚
Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Injury, Death and Violence. Cussing, lots of swears and also British English. (Sorry)
Word count: 7.6K I think
All of the writing is split into sections for easy following. Please also be aware that there might be spelling errors or grammar inconsistencies. I apologise in advance!
Idea/ World building:
In this world, there is such a thing as fate and soulmates. People destined to be together.
It's a decision made the moment someone is born.
Stories say that soulmates are made from the same stardust. That only together will they be complete again. Whole again..
To aid people in finding their partner. On the day of their 18th birthday, a red string is said to appear. Only visible to thoes who it belongs to and untouchable to anyone else.
Its said to wrap around ones hand, wrist or finger and to lead off to your other half.
In some cases the string is attached to an individual you know well. In other cases, it will be of someone you've never met..
Creatures have spent years in search for their soul mate. Following the endless string to all corners of the world.
For everyone has a soul mate..
There have been unfortunate cases in which the red string will snap off and fade to a gray colour before disappearing.
This sadly is a common occurance once ones soul mate dies.
There is no need for a string when your soulmate no longer exists..
You only get one soul mate..
The idea of a string never appearing is a rarity.
Unheard of.
Yet cases of such a phenomenon have occurred in the past.
People have speculated that it may be due to one's soul mate not being born yet or worse, already dead before their 18th birthday...
Because, why else would a person lack a red string??
Everyone has a soul mate..
Peach's story:
Princess peach had dreamed of the day she too would get her red string.
If one knew her as well as toadsworth did, then they'd be aware of the princess' love for romantic novels. How she busys her free time going through many fantasy books of romance.
She's read a large selection!
Strangers next door, super natural partners, school crushes, forbidden love, a princess and her Knight...
Peach adored the idea of love, she dreamed of such a life. To be loved so entirely, and to love someone.
It was what she desired the most.
Yes. Peach was one for romance.
So as one does when seeking love. She waited, eagerly, for the day of her 18th birthday.
They day she would get her string.
They day she could find out about her soulmate...
She counted down the days.
Peach had been the object of many young suitors attraction. Many promising the world and more to her.
But she was polite, yet firm in her declining of such affections. Rejecting them under the premises of wanting to wait for her string to appear.
For she only wanted to be with her soulmate..
So when the day came, she could barely sleep. Pacing her room with butterflies and 'school girl' giggles.
Oh maybe it will attach to her wrist? Maybe her pinkie finger? What to expect. Who to expect.
Sleep clawed at her in the early morning hours, promising the princess pleasant dreams of her soulmate. How could she refuse such an offer?
Come morning, the Princess awoke slowly. Taking a moment to blink away the sleep in her eyes and stretch with a yawn.
The lingering of said dream leaving as the dawning realisation hit.
It's today.
Excitement bubbled up as she checked both her hands with a smile.
But yet... nothing..
Confusion took over. Where was it?
The thing she had been waiting for. Searching for?
Where was her string??
Panic followed shortly after.
Oh no- nonononono- where is it? Where is it!
It's got to be here! It has to be!!
Peach began to look through her bed sheets in a hurry.
Maybe it feel off? Can it do that? Maybe she was supposed to tie it herself?
Where-
Where
Toadsworth's gentle knock apon her bedroom door startled the Princess.
The old toad greeting her with a chirpy good morning and a happy birthday before requesting entry from the otherside.
A request peach quickly accepted with a soft cry for his aid.
He hurried inside, a bit startled seeing the princess so shaken.
By god's what was the matter?
Peach immediately began to explain with little prompting.
The string! It's not here! Why is it not here?!
Her panic rising fast when scavenging through her sheets provided nothing.
Toadsworth approached her bed, pulling himself up to her side with a huff.
He offered her his hand to take, gently washing her worrys with calm words.
Now now, it's okay, he's here. Breathe..
Peach followed his advice, gripping his hand to ground herself.
Once calm, he gently took her other hand offering his own comforting squeeze.
Maybe it's just late?
Sometimes, though admittedly on rare occasions, the string will appear later throughout the day.
It's nothing to be concerned over just simply late to appear.
It will be okay. There is no need to panic.
It will arrive before midnight.
This helped calm her down.
Yes, that has to be it. He's right.
Gosh, where would she be without toadsworth...
After a quick hug and a soft thankyou. He let her go.
Being sure she was alright before giving the okay signal for servents to flood the room.
Each holding gifts, flowers and of course her gown for the day.
It is still her birthday after all!
Now is no time for tears.
Her kingdom is waiting.
So the festivities continued on.
Hours passing by with cake, games, and people.
Toadsworth made sure to stick to her side the entire day.
Catching when the princess stared at her blank hands for too long.
Offering her moments of grounding and encouragement.
It will come, surely. Its just late.
No studies where done on when one should expect their string to appear. Most of the cases being during the night. Some in the early morning.
But the fact never changed that it always happens on the day of your 18th birthday..
Always.
So she was patient.
She waited.
It will happen.
It has to happen.
But after the day was done and the guests had all left. It was now just her and Toadsworth left in the ballroom.
The sun had long since set. Fluorescent lighting keeping the large room lit.
A few cleaner toads littered around, sweeping up the confetti from the dance floor.
It was quiet. Eerily so.
Peach sat quietly, staring at the large clock that decorated her walls.
Its ticks filled the room..
11:58
Looking to her hands there was still nothing.
Toadsworth was by her side, his face one of sympathy.
Neither said anything.
The air was heavy.
Peach's hands began to shake, where was it..?
Everyone gets a soul mate...
...
So where was hers..?
It has to.
It has to-
The stroke of midnight broke through the silence. It echoed through the room. Sounds of bells and chimes coming from the clock...
12:00. Midnight.
Something broke within her.
Peachs face morphed into that of a deep sorrow. Huntching over and beginning to weep into the old toads awaiting arms..
All he could do was hold her, rub her back and apologise deeply for her loss.
He's so sorry...
The Princess found herself skipping the rest of her birthday festivities.
The plans for the remainder of the week too were cancled.
She opted out of any royal meetings.
Dissappeared into her room for days.
All that was heard of the princess was the sound of her cries that echoed through the hall outside of her room.
She grieved for days, grieved a person she never had the opportunity to met..
For you only get one soul mate, and hers was seemingly already gone...
Bowser's relevance:
Koopas as a race live a lot longer than that of most races. Their life spans reaching into a few hundred years.
With this in mind-
It is normal for koopas to not get their soulmate strings until hundreds of years into their lives.
Bowser was no exception to this.
The king of koopas was without a string and even more so without a partner.
He was content with this. He's a young koopa afterall. So he probably won't get his soulmate string till hundreds of years into the future.
Nothing wrong with that.
But when word travelled that the beautiful princess peach of the neighboring mushroom kingdom was also without a string. He had an idea.
A genius idea really.
Why not be with each other?
Both without a string? This could be a great opportunity to find love and comfort in each other.
Just think of their kingdoms too, they could be united together with this proposal.
He's rather generous with this idea.
Yet the Princess didn't agree.
She was aware of his unpopular ruling methods. So to say. Citing him as cruel and a unnecessarily barbaric in his ways.
That she could never subject her people to such ways of tyranny.
It hurt.
More than bowser cared to admit.
But he's nothing if not persistent.
He'll win her affections.
She'll see things his way.
He's sure of it.
Story/ The plot:
A few years had past in which the mushroom kingdom and the koopa kingdom were suck in a back and forth debacle.
Bowser, proposing marriage to the Princess, and the princess having him kicked out of her kingdom with a stern refusal.
This had happened on more than one occasion.. and tensions began to grow with each rejection.
The koopa king had all the time in the world to win the beautiful princess over. But peach, being human, did not.
Humans only lived for so long.
So bowser was persistent. But she was as stubborn as she was beautiful.
So he changed tactics.
It started with a few stray attacks. Just some proof of his strength.
What he could offer her and her kingdom.
They would all be so much better under his protection and leadership.
Else people would get hurt.
So thoes small attacks grew..
Till one day. Bowser refused to take the princess' no as an answer.
She was being unreasonable! Stubborn as ever.
Bowser was sure she just needed the right push to accept.
Just needed to see what life would be like as his queen.
So he took her.
She struggled, fought, pleaded.
But no.
This was for her own good.
For the good of her kingdom.
He kidnapped her then and there.
Wisked her off to the darklands as her castle and town was left in shambles by his army.
All hope seemed lost..
That was until two strangers fell through the warp pipe,,
Toad had come to the outskirts of the kingdom to ponder. Everyone within the centre was frantic over the princess' kidnap.
He just needed a moment..
But yells and screams nearby brought him out of his thoughts.
Toad rushed over, ready to help whoever, and caught the end of what seemed to be two people falling out through a warp pipe.
Said pipe disappearing into the ground afterwards.
Toad approached with caution but concern. Two brothers lay on the floor. Two Human brothers. Both seeming dazed and a tad confused.
It was weird, suspicious even. That two new men randomly appeared after the princess was just kidnapped.
He had his eye on them.
Both men shook themselves off. Slowly getting to their feet with confused expressions.
They looked around everywhere like it was some other planet. They seemed so out of place.
So entrapped in everything they barely noticed him.
Key word, barely.
The man in green yelled after seeing toad. The man in red jumping forward to put himself infront of toad and the other.
How strange!
The man in green seemed to panic even more appon realising that the pipe they came from was gone. The one in red attempted to comefort him all while staring toad down.
It's okay. It's okay.. they'll be okay..
Toad could tell they seemed lost and mostly unthreatening. Just two strangers that had a bad case of wrong place, wrong time.
Quite frankly, toad didn't think they could do anymore harm than what was already done.
So might as well help them!
He introduced himself.
Both humans seemed startled he could talk.
But toad continued. They should come to the castle.
Toadsworth will know what to do with them.
He might be able to get them home!
The men shared a look, no words were exchanged but it seems a thousand things were said with that one gaze.
So with a single nod and some attempts at small talk, all on toads end, the three head towards the broken kingdom.
Other toads stared at them as they walked through the rubble.
Most gazing in fear. Some in surprise. No-one wanted to get close to the strangers. Understandably so.
But this was fine as the brothers also held their distance from everyone else.
Hands tightly joined together.
Only sticking close to toad.
The trio weaved through the damage and approached towards the castle.
Guards were posted at the entrance but they seemed preoccupied with trying to fix the door.
No one stopped them as they headed straight inside.
More guards were rushing around. Parts of the toad army were grouping up. Seeming to prepare for war.
No one batted an eye, too busy with preparations. No one had the time for strangers.
So the walk to meet toadsworth was easy.
He sat in the ballroom, around a large table with toad army captains, trying to build a plan of action.
When toad announced their presence loudly to all.
Hello! He's here and he's brought friends!
All eyes were on them.
The man in green shrunk behind the one in red at this.
Toadsworth immediately became defensive apon seeing strangers, here, in the planning room.
Who are these men?! What are they doing here!
A few weponds from guards started to point in their direction.
So it was then that the man in red stood forward, introducing himself.
Mario. His name was mario.
He and his brother Luigi are lost and need help getting home.
The old toad grumbled that they had enough issues to worry about. Their princess had just been kidnapped!
They don't have the time nor the resources to do anything about this.
If anyone could've helped the human brothers it would've been the princess.
So until she's back home safely they're out of luck.
Mario stepped forward more. His hands up in defence as the weponds pointed closer to him.
He pleaded, they're lost. Can't you help at all?
Toadsworth insisted again. No, they can't. Not without the princess. She knows this place better than anyone.
Okay. Fine. New plan.
Mario pitched an idea, let them help.
Let them aid in rescuing the Princess.
If that's the only way he'll get home then he'll do it.
He'd do anything to make sure he and his brother get home safe.
Toadsworth grumbled and brushed him off.
He wouldn't be of any use. They can't even trust him!
Toad then steps in.
Well- in times of crisis like this, they can't really be too picky.
They need all the help they can get, and these humans seem strong! Just look how big they are!
The older toad glares up at the human. Studying him. Mario only looks back with a stern gaze.
Please.. they just want to go home..
With a moment to ponder the pros and cons, and then a loooong sigh following. Toadsworth offers his hand to Mario.
Fine. They can help.
Both brothers let out a breath they had been holding.
Thank god.
Mario takes the small man's hand with a gentle shake.
He swears to do all he can for this princess.
However after a moment mario notices a small red string attached to his hand.
Well more specifically his pinkie finger.
Huh.. that's new..
Meanwhile, at Bowsers Castle:
After peach' initial capture she does nothing but fight.
The shock wore off pretty fast and her fight or flight hit like a freight train.
She yelled, struggled, screamed, did everything she could to try and get away.
But nothing worked.
Once at his castle, bowser threw her into a cage that sat neatly tucked away in a large pink room.
Her room, as he called it.
She cursed him. How dare he!
He only chuckled at her firey nature and said he'd be back later once she had cooled off a bit.
She continued to curse after him as he left.
The door slamming behind him.
She was alone.
Peach looked around trying to see if anything could help her escape. But nothing looked helpful.
She tried shaking the bars, bashing into them, kicking, squeezing through.
Nothings worked.. she was truly stuck.
Peach paced the small space thinking, rethinking, anything! She can't be tricked like this!
But after a few hours, of trail, error and just sitting on the cage floor. Peach found herself giving up..
Gosh what was the point..?
What was she doing..?
Her kingdom, her people, they were all suffering..
Maybe.. she should just marry him.. just suck it up for the peace of her kingdom.
Her soul mate was dead anyway, nothing is going to-
Something red caught her eye as peach glanced to her left hand out of habit.
No.
It couldn't be-
Yet there it was.
A delicately wrapped red string.. tied to her pinkie finger, just like she had always dreamed..
Her soul mate.. they were still out there..?
But why..
Why did it take so long? Why now when she can't get out to go find them?
She stared at the string for the long while, gently rubbing her gloved fingers over the fabric.
A few tears fell from her cheeks..
It dosent matter why.
It dosent matter how.
All that matters is that they're alive, they're real, and they're coming for her.
She can feel it.
When bowser returned to talk with her, she told him the truth. Yelling the fact.
Her string was here! Let her go! His deal is void now. Her soulmate has arrived!
But he didn't believe her.
Growling lowly that it's unbecoming of a princess to lie about something as important as a soulmate.
She tried to argue but he insisted that he was done talking.
No amount of yelling or bargening would convince him otherwise.
She was to be his wife. End of story.
Peach could only pray that her soulmate would hurry..
Traveling to save her:
At some point during their long adventure towards the darklands, parts of the toad army had needed rest.
So it was decided that they would all set up camp nearby the fire flower fields.
Mario and luigi opted to stay a bit away from the others. For privacy and peace of mind.
The last few days had been crazy, not a dull moment in this place.
So the brothers just took a moment to surround themselves with the beauty this world holds.
The sky was clear, stars sparking and a few galaxies visible. The fire flowers provided a warm blanket amongst the chill of the night.
It was beautiful..
Yet Mario found himself gazing to the string on his left hand. It looked so delicate.
He had initally tried to remove it, but no matter how he pulled it wouldn't come off.
It wasn't hurting or annoying anything.
It just didn't do much except dangle there.
It was weird.
Some part of him found comfort in its presence.
A feeling he often linked to Luigi's presence.
Speaking of-
His brother approached from the spot he had been setting up their sleeping bag in, taking a moment to comment on how clear the sky is. You don't see that in brooklyn...
Luigi then shifted to get down and sit next to his brother. Softly huffing something about how sore his knees were while rubbing at them.
Yeah.
They had done a lot of walking recently.
Mario face softened as he looked to luigi. Gently teasing the younger brother for his bad knees, only to be swatted away when he reached out to poke him. A grumble following that not everyone is built for running and sports Mario.
He only chuckled. Sure Lu, sure.
Both quickly fell into a comfortable silence after their giggles died down.
Taking the moment to just breathe.
Soon though Luigi caught Mario looking to his string again. Luigi also looking to mario's string. He gently took his brothers hand, observing and gently touching the string attached to it.
It was weird that no one but luigi could see his string. Apparently, it was only supposed to be seen by the person attached to it.
Yet they had checked and luigi was infact not attached to marios string in anyway.
Toadsworth had seemed very shocked at this information. He said something about how only he and his 'soulmate' were supposed to see it. Whatever that means.
Luigi was is other half, his twin brother.
It just made sense he could see it.
But not only could luigi see it. He could feel it too. Which again wasn't supposed to happen according to toadsworth.
It was weird. These strings were weird.
Luigi studied marios hand for few long moments before his eyes moved to his own hand.
There was a red string attached to his brother too.
Though it definitely wasn't the same one mario had. Again, they had already checked.
Mario took luigis hand in his, gently studying the youngers string. Luigi's string seemed to sparkle a bit. Unlike his own which was the softer of the two.
It lead off in the opposite direction that marios did. Far off into the distance. To who knows where.
Not their problem right now.
Both bothers just held each others hands. Taking this moment to themselves.
It was peaceful.
They'll get home eventually. Just so long as they stay together.
They were stronger together after all.
The Rescue Part 1:
The brothers and toad had been all that made it to bowsers Castle.
The army having been used as a distraction to attempt to storm the castle. It allowed for the trio to try and find another way in undetected.
The brothers had been able to get past the war zone by entering the castle through a back pathway.
Toad having lead them.
They approached fast, jumping the lava moat and climbing in through a hole in the security.
The plan was to get in, grab the princess. Get out.
Simple right?
Well inside was a diffrent story.
Guards were limited as most were now outside fighting off the toad army. So sneaking around wasn't too difficult, but still a very dangerous job.
It would only take one person spotting them for the plan to go sideways.
So they had to be quiet and sneaky.
All while trying to work their way through twisting halls, around the guard routes, to eventually find the Princess hidden inside.
Yeah, simple.
Mario had noticed that his string was seeming to lead into the castle,,
Luigi noticed it too. Giving his brother a sharp look but neither saying anything.
Okay weird- very weird. That's- probably nothing.
Yeah, best not to worry about it.
They have other issues.
Yet through every turn that lead deeper into the castle, the string lead the way. As if guiding him. It was starting to make mario nervous.
So he tried to push it aside. Focus mario. You're here for the Princess, to get home!
Focus!
At some point while deep in thought, Mario had rushed ahead. Not hearing luigi whisper shout his name in warning.
It had fucked everything up as he marched straight into the face of a guard.
Both seemingly alarmed at each others presence.
The boney creature recovered first though. Its eyes going wide before immediately yelling for back up.
Thoes humans!! They're here! They breached the walls! Sound the alarm!
Fuck.
They needed to go! NOW.
Toad and luigi followed marios lead as they now all took off sprinting through the halls.
Going this way and that, the red string guiding them the right way.
Toad made sure to bash through guards that made a grab at them with that frying pan of his. Leaving the boney remains to collapse.
But it was very quickly becoming obvious that they'd need more than a frying pan, that there was a lot more guards than them.
There was no way they could rescue a princess while being tailed like this!
Something had to change.
Surprisingly, it was luigi to shouted to spit up.
If they separated, one group could distract while the other gets the princess.
Mario had the string. He could follow it.
Luigi and toad would draw the hoard away.
Mario absolutely DID NOT AGREE TO THIS IDEA.
He wanted to scream no! LUIGI DONT YOU DARE-
But his brother did anyway. Flashing a determined smile. He and toad broke off to the left. Making sure to slow down a bit and lure the hoard with them.
Leaving mario to keep running unbothered.
The last thing mario heard luigi shout was
'Get the Princess!! We'll meet you outside!!'
Then he was alone in the hall.
This was an opportunity that wouldn't come again.
Follow the string, or go after luigi..
He had every mind to go to his brothers aid. But the princess, the reason they were here.
There was a subtle tug to his hand. He barely felt it.
But the string, it called to him.
Someone was calling to him..
So, he listened, and he followed it.
The Rescue Part 2:
She waited,, she had been waiting for years. So a few more days were nothing..
So why did she feel so sick with worry..?
These last few days stuck in her cage had been testing, yet the red string attached to her finger brought such a wave of comfort.
It's all going to be okay soon.
They'll come soon.
Bowser had tried to talk, he tried being sweet, he tried being threatening, tried everything in between.
But peach continued to look away and cross her arms in defiance.
When her soul mate gets here. Bowser will be ruined.
She'll never marry him.
Word of two strangers began to circle around bowsers army.
A tale of two humans, leading an army of toads towards the darklands. In hopes to rescue her.
At first bowser paid no mind. Sending out a wave troops to 'take care of them'.
Yet they prevailed and that pissed him off.
Who do these humans think they are? Coming into his kingdom? Beating up his troops?
He'll deal with them in time.
So more waves were sent. Each bigger than the last.
But the more troops he sent the more the humans continued forward.
Peach knew it was getting under his shell.
The king started to became violent and loud. Demanding anyone to just kill them already!
Yet another reason peach would never marry him.
As of now, Bowser was currently out dealing with an 'issue' as he put it.
Something about a fight at the main entrance?
It doesn't matter. She'll continue to wait.
The room doors started to shift and Peach straightened up, ready to face the king again.
But her breath was stolen apon seeing a man dressed in red walk through the doors.
Time seemed to stop as he looked around and then in her direction. His face lighting up apon seeing her.
Oh god.
It was them.
The red string attached to his hand confirmed it.
It was him.. her hero.. her soulmate..
Peach clasped at the bars to her cage.
She needed to get to him. Nothing else in her life would ever be more important than to be next to this man.
The man in red shut the door behind himself and rushed over to her.
Stopping short of the cage and removing his hat from his head with a bow.
He had never been infront of a princess before..
He greeted her with a soft 'hello princessa' before claiming he was here to rescue her!
She quickly reached out through the bars, hands immediately on his face,, brushing against his mustache.
It was so soft..
He jumped a bit at the sudden movement and touch. But seemed frozen, just staring at her.
A soft red rising to his face
He was perfect..
Peach could cry.
She softly pleaded for him to free her. Please let her out...
With a nod the man placed the cap back on his head and looked up to the cage.
Studying it.
He only took a few seconds before honing in on the top of the cage.
It seemed to be holding all the bars together and in place. It had to be the weakest point.
So with a huff and some clumsy climbing.
He got to the top and began to kick hard at the structure. Trying to push it enough to dislodge some of the bars.
Peach could only stare as he did.
It took a few kicks but it worked.
There was a loud clang and some of the bars fell away, leaving a gap in the cage. Peach winced as she squeezed a bit but managed to wriggle free.
The man hopped down to help her out.
Offering his hand for her to use for balance. Then pulling back once she made it to the floor.
Peach now noticed how short he was. Originally with the cage being so high she hadn't noticed at first.
But now- gosh that was oddly charming right now.
He began to explain that they needed to go! He's not too sure of the way back out but if she can stay close-
Peach softly took his hands, cutting him off and causing the man to gasp slightly.
He fell quiet immediately. Staring up a her as his face grew warm. Cheeks turning red.
It was adorable.
Before they go, she had to know
What was his name?
Who has she got to thank for her rescue..?
Mario.. his name was mario.
Fight:
Mario held the Princess' hand in his. She gripped at him rather tightly.
He understood, she must be nervous.
So he lead the way. Being a lot more careful this time as he and the princess snuck through the castle.
It was a lot easier getting lost inside than remembering the way back.
All the halls looked the same and last time he had toad and luigi to help guide him.
His brother...god he hopes he's okay..
But right now he had to focus on the Princess. The reason they were even here.
He had to get her out.
With a soft squeeze to her hand for comfort. They rushed through the halls. Ducking in shadowy areas to hide from guards and sneaking around corners when the coast was clear.
All was going well.
Too well.
A loud roar soon tore through the castle and it's halls. The foundation shook with its power.
Mario felt every hair stand on edge.
"WHERE IS THE PRINCESS!!!!"
That's definitely not good-
Mario went to move on but his hand held him back. Turning to look why, he saw the Princess frozen. A look of pure fear visible through her expression.
Fuck. She's terrified.
He softly whispered that they needed to go!
They can't stick around or else they'll be caught.
She barely responded. Eyes looking to and through him, but she let him numbly drag her through the halls.
As they went, Mario started to notice a few guards collapsed on the ground either knocked out or fallen apart.
Someone had been this way.
He hoped it was luigi and toad..
But he took the opportunity to arm himself, picking up one of the spears.
Now he can hopefully protect them both.
There were shouts in the far distance. The war from outside! They must be close to the entrance!
It's so close!
Not that far-
"YOU."
That same roaring voice from before-
The Princess yelped and suddenly pushed him to one side.
A fire ball grazing his back as he fell.
Mario recovered fast. Turning to face this- oh god
A monster stood before him, gaze one of rage and anger. Eyes of fire and a snarl covering his face.
The king of koopas.
Mario could barely dodge as another fire blast was sent his way.
Dashing to the right. He was further separated from the Princess, who rushed to hide while the Kings attention was distracted.
Bowser, or so he had heard him be called. Rushed him.
Mario wasn't prepared, having to use the spear to block. It was snapped clean in two.
Uh oh.
The next swipe he could dodge but god- he couldn't get a breath in.
Jumping left, right. Rolling out the way. Flinging himself back. Mario danced around the claws that slashed at him and feet that threatening to crush his body.
This was ridiculous, he couldn't fight him!
He was just dodgeing till he couldn't dodge no more.
He needed a plan! Think- THINK.
Eventually he was going to slip up. In his defence, Mario was so busy focusing on the CLAWS and FIRE that he didn't even think to look down when bowser spun suddenly and hit his tail right into the plumbers chest.
He was thrown rather far back. Hitting the wall on the other side with a pained cry. His ribs ached and breathing was suddenly difficult.
Fuck- were they broken-?
There was a cry of his name as loud thumps approached.
GET UP MARIO!!
He tried.
Rolling to get on his hands and knees he tried to move, to get out the way! Only to be hit again, this time with a large fire ball.
Mario yelled out loudly as his right arm bloomed into a scorched mess.
The pain was unimaginable..
He tried to get away. To back up. Do something!
A dark shadow now drowned his figure as the king grabbed him by his overall straps and lifted him up with a growl.
Mario gasped and struggled. Kicking his feet helplessly as he dangled from the monsters hand.
He tried to pry at the claws, try to free himself but he was in so much pain, he didn't have the strength..
Bowser stared him down. That same firey rage burning straight into marios soul.
He might die here-
There was a moment where all Mario could do was stare as the koopa inhaled deeply. Fire visibly building up in the back of his throat.
Mario was staring death in face-
He would've been done for, had it not been for something hitting bowser's head suddenly and distracting him.
The koopa grunted before turning to look where it came from with a growl.
Mario struggled to see over bowser body but when he did he saw it was the Princess.
She had thrown a brick or something at him. The stress on her face was heavy as she glared down the king.
She demanded the monster 'Let him go!'
Mario at this, struggled more in the beasts grip. He had to get away! She needed help!
Only for sharp claws to now dig into his sides harshly.
He could only wheeze out a sound of pain and a strained whine.
Not his ribs again!
At this the Princess cried out.
Stop it!! Please!! Don't hurt him!!
She looked terrified for him.
He didn't like seeing her like this..
Bowser glanced between the two before seeming to have an idea. His scowl morphing into an evil grin.
The next words were chilling.
Marry him. Or he'll kill the human.
Mario immediately protested.
No she couldn't!! Dont do it!!-
The claws dug deeper into his flesh at his objection. A gargled cry of pain followed.
Blood was starting to dampen his clothes now.
He was in really rough shape and she could see that.
There was a moment of unspoken sorrow when peach made eye contact with him.
He knew what that meant.
No- don't..
The Princess nodded, agreeing.
Yes.
She'll do it.
Just.. please.
Don't kill him...
Bowser seemed satisfied with this answer and with one final squeeze to dig his claws just that bit deeper- Threw Mario to the ground.
He felt dazed. Like he was floating. Everything was spinning and things felt muffled.
The princess..
He shook harshly and tried to move, tried to get up. Do something!
But all Mario could do was lul his head to one side and watch as bowser approached the Princess.
No.
Please.
Someone stop this!
His cries were answered when a frying pan flew from across the room and smacked bowser clean in the face.
His gaze followed where it came from and saw Toad rushing forward. Luigi close behind.
His heart soared.
His brother! Oh thank god he's okay!!
Luigi and Toad seemed battered and bruised but were still standing.
Better than that actually. They seemed ready to take on Bowser.
Luigi now equipped with what Mario can only assume is one of thoes power up things toad had mentioned a few days back.
I mean, how else would his brother be throwing ice?
Bowser roared in anger and launched for them both. Giving the Princess the chance to rush over to him.
Once at marios side she began to softly apologise, over and over, mumbling curses at his condition.
He must look pretty bad. He felt pretty bad.
He noticed her shuffling through what appeared to be toads satchel.
When did she get that?
No matter.
She offered something that looked like a mushroom- well- offered is a nice way of saying she practically stuffed it down his throat.
He obviously panicked a bit at first before swallowing.
The affects were immediate.
The pain was gone. He could breathe again! His injuries closed and suddenly his energy returned. Though the aches were still there, he could ignore it for now.
Mario quickly shifted to get up. Noticing that he had also grew in size and power.
Whoa- why hadn't they been using these things??
She stared at him intensely, tears in her eyes and rolling down her face.
How he wished to stop her tears..
A loud, pained yelp from luigi immediately caught marios attention again, as he snapped back to bowser.
That bastard had his brother pinned down.
Luigi struggled frantically under bowsers hand. Thoes claws were way too close to his brothers neck.
Toad was a bit away, holding his arm, it looked burnt.
He needed to take the king down NOW.
Without hesitation, mario rushed back into danger. There wasn't a plan really.
He just had to do something. Everything inside him screamed to GET THAT MONSTER OFF HIS BROTHER!!
Mario saw bowsers tail. The same one that he's pretty sure broke some ribs and reached for it.
Grabbing it and yanking it back hard.
Bowser was taken off guard and gasped. Loosing balance and was knocked onto his stoumch.
Luigi quickly shuffling out and a bit away. He too looked injured. Bits of red bleeding into his green shirt.
Anger fueled him.
Mario took all his strength, everything he had and used it to swing back. Lifting the koopa with the momentum.
He span a few times, building up speed. Ignoring when the king yelled in confusion, Mario suddenly and very forcefully smashed him into the closet wall.
It cracked immediately from impact, bowser yelling out in pain as the rubble collapsed on top of him.
Large beams of concrete and metal further crushing the monster.
It had to have hurt a lot.
But to bowsers credit, he was still awake.
Dazed sure. But still conscious.
He weakly but furiously began scraping to get out of the rock. Growling half threats.
He'll kill him. He'll kill him and his brother.
He'll find them!
Mario glared him down before reeling his fist back and punching bowser. Hard.
The koopa fell again, but this time, didn't get back up.
Laying knocked out amongst the rubble.
He was out. They had done it.
Now was their chance to leave.
Mario looked to his brother, then toad and finally the princess. All were in various stages of pain and panic.
So, mario gathered them all up in his arms and made a break for it.
He was careful of his brothers injuries. Cradling him and the princess in his arms.
Both of which shook but said nothing.
Toad however, sat on marios shoulders with little to no complaints. Helping tell Mario which way to go to get out the castle.
All were shaken up. The Princess especially so.
Mario will deal with that later.
His only priority right now to get them all to safety.
Back at the Mushroom Kingdom:
The reunion between the Princess and Toadsworth had been emotional.
Luigi having to take a few moments outside to shed some tears at the sight. His brother was always an emotional cry-er
The old shroom cradled the weeping princess in his arms, soothing her that all will be okay.. he's here now..
It was rather tender to watch. Almost too tender. He felt a bit awkward just watching such a private moment.
But after a while the Princess stood again. She was rather tall in comparison to everyone around. Including mario himself-
Curse his stupid genes. Why couldn't he have gotten the tall gene. Luigi hogged it all.
He can almost hear his brothers teasing laugh from the depths of his subconscious.
Grumbling at his stupid brothers luck of the draw, mario missed when the Princess addressed him.
Blinking a few times, he approached with a soft hum to say he was listening.
Yes yes. He's listening now.
She thanked him, truly thanked him. Her gaze that of a loving mother. She stared at him like he held the world.
It made him a bit bashful honestly-
Looking away with a red face and a hand reaching to rub at his neck.
Aw shucks-
But throughout the 'excitement' that was being brutally beaten by an oversized turtle. Mario had forgotten all about the string attached to his hand.
The same one that the Princess also wore..
Her hands were tucked to her chest, seemingly holding each other, but that red string still poked out from behind her fingers.
Trailing the short distance to tie the other end to his own.
There was a long pause as mario slowly reached out and touched the string that connected them.
The Princess gasped at the contact. Watching in awe as the red man slowly took her hand so see it closer.
No words were said, though the old toad did bristle up with wide eyes.
They were, attached..?
What was it toad said?
Soulmat-
A few things clicked all at once.
1. This is a Princess, and he is just holding her hand so casually-
2. This world had such a thing as soulmates,, a connection said to be deeper than anything. To be someones other half.
3. The Princess was his soulmate.
Mario all but threw himself back in a panic. Face hotter than the sun.
The Princess reached out to him with a surprised look. Like he was some startled animal.
He started to ramble. Apologise. Hands and arms waving animatedly as he talked.
He's so sorry! Excuse him! He doesn't know what came over him!!
Though partly through his long rant, he noticed that the Princess and toadsworth looked at him with puzzled expressions.
Oh my fucking god, he's been ranting in Italian-
If there's a higher power. Strike him down.
Soft giggles reached his ears through the rushing of blood to his cheeks.
The Princess- gosh, her voice was so enchanting.
She giggled at him. Laughing at just how much of a fool he is. There was no malice to her actions. Only joy and humour.
A compete change than what he saw in Bowser's castle.
It made a fluttery feeling rise in his chest.
He could get used to her giggle.
She again approached him. Mario taking a step back out of habit. But she gently cupped his face to still him.
Thank god luigi wasn't around to hear the squeak he made when her soft lips pressed to his forehead.
He swore his heart skipped a beat.
She pulled back slightly, hands still holding his face, her gaze was so tender and loving towards him.
She whispered a soft thankyou.
He nearly died at her last words.
'My Hero..'
Going home Part 1:
The kingdom celebrated the return of their princess. It was a short happy moment before the rebuilding of the towns and castle had to be done.
Mario and luigi both mutually agreed that they would stay to help with the repairs. After all, they are plumbers and it's the least they could do after everything the kingdom has done for them.
Since returning the brothers had been hailed as heroes. The Toads had been kind enough to offer them a temporary house to stay in.
Rebuilding was going to take a few days, maybe even weeks with all the damage Bowsers army caused.
Something the brothers had no issue with fixing.
The mushroom kingdom was welcoming to both men, people greeted them in the streets.
They looked at them like they were actually something.
This place was nice.
The thought of going home was becoming more and more distant to mario as the days ticked on..
Why go back to brooklyn? No one there ever believed in them.
Here. They had a chance to be somthing, an opportunity like this comes once in a lifetime.
But yet, his brother.
Luigi would often talk about how he missed their home back in brookyln, how he cant wait to try some genuine pizza.
How he's so ready to sleep for a week in their old beds.
Mario would never stay if luigi didn't want to.
Luigi was his everything...
As the town grew closer and closer to being rebuilt. Mario felt a pit forming in his stoumch.
They'll be going home soon, leaving this all behind.
There was an ache at the idea.
Mario found himself looking out his window for hours into the night.
Sleep wasn't possible with this feeling, so he wanted to cherish every moment in this place.
This world was beautiful, so strange but captivating.
It's people were kind, it held so many adventures and stories.
And its princess-
Gosh, the princess...
He'd never forget her.
Mario will never admit just how many times he caught himself staring at the string attached to his finger. It was oddly comforting, like a safety net or warm blanket.
In a way, it reminded him of the way luigi brings him comfort. And thats one hell of a compliment.
He and the princess had many talks in these last days.
They spoke about anything really.
How their day was, how's construction going, how is luigi-
Actually
Now that he thinks about it-
She's been doing most of the question asking. He's just happy to answer and she seems happy to listen.
The only questions he thinks he's asked her is about the warp pipe he came from and of course her name-
Princess peach.
It's a wonder he went so long without knowing it.
Peach seemed confused by such a pipe, but assured him she would look into it!
He has yet to tell her his plans of leaving to go home.
The idea of going home, brought that same cold feeling from before.
Gosh what is he going to do...
Going home Part 2:
The lack of sleep was becoming more obvious.
To most, mario could fool. Not a lot of people know him that well yet. So white lies and half truths worked fine
However, he could never hope to fool his ever observant brother.
Luigi came downstairs one morning and saw him sitting with his morning drink in the kitchen.
Mario had done this same trick for a few days now. Greeting luigi in the kitchen with a warm drink.
Under the premises of him having wanted a drink earlier and not able to fall back to sleep.
It worked for a few days. But eventually luigi would know.
Mario was never an early riser and luigi knew that.
So when his brother opted to sit opposite him instead of going to make his usual morning coffee, Mario knew the gig was up.
To luigis credit, he approached the topic gently. Asking how Mario slept and how his morning was.
Mario knew he knew. But he still wasn't ready to come clean yet. So he played along.
Yeah, he slept fine. The morning is okay. Weather looks nice.
Luigi began to fiddle with his hands at that answer. Eyes shifted to glance at marios string then his own. Before making eye contact.
'Wanna try that again? Without lies this time?'
Fuck.
Mario could only fool luigi so many times. His brother knew him better than he knew himself.
Mario couldn't meet luigis eyes, turning to stare deeply into his half cold drink.
What's there to talk about? How can he talk about it? It's so selfish. He's so selfish.
Luigi had somehow moved closer without mario realising. Gently taking his brothers hand and holding it tightly.
Gosh what would he do without lu..?
That's why he can't stay, he can't loose his brother..
Luigi looked at with with concern. Softly prompting Mario to talk.
Please, he's here to listen. He can't help if he doesn't know..
Mario sighed. That pit in his stoumch growing as he started to speak.
Where to begin?
Well first he's not been sleeping much,if at all. But lu knew that much already.
Luigi asked if it was because of nightmares and mario paused, partly? He does occasionally wake up to images of claws and fire. But no, that's not the real reason.
So Mario continued.
Next was the fact that he found himself overthinking everything in brooklyn, they've been missing for probably a month or two, their job- their rent- what are going to do when they get back?
Luigi only nodded. Yeah, that was an issue.
Then there's the problem of getting back- the warp pipe has such little information on it. It's as if it vanishes after spitting people out.
The princess has been trying to look into it, but there's no way to tell when or IF it will come back.
Speaking of the princess, gosh, he still hasn't had the guts to tell her he's leaving..
It would break her heart.
Luigi was aware of their soulmate predicament. Being all to happy to relentlessly tease and annoy. 'Younger brother privileges' as he had described it.
The conversation continued. At some point Mario had become rather emotional as the talk progressed.
He occasionally seemed exasperated at something. Only to calm a bit when luigi squeezed his hand and offered his advice.
Mario found himself struggling with unshed frustrated tears that threatened to fall whenever he looked at the red string attached to him.
It mocked him. Giving him a reminder of the life he must leave.
He'd do anything for luigi- anything! but fuck, this was so hard!
Mario eventually ended up saying something he didn't want to.
He didn't want luigi to know how much he despised the thought of going home.
Because his sweet loving brother would bend over backwards to make Mario happy. Even if that means he himself wasn't.
Yet he blabbed too much and it just slipped out.
Mario mentioned how much better it was here. How unhappy he was in brooklyn.
But then he saw it. The way luigis gaze softened and his brows furrowed.
He knows that face.
Mario quickly tried to backtrack.
Brooklyn is fine! It's okay! It's their home afterall! Its where they were born!
Luigi gently placed his hands to mario's shoulders. Grasping them to stabilise his brother. Who had begun breathing heavier than before.
One of his siblings thumbs brushed away his tears- wait, when did he start crying..?
Luigi stared at him as Mario just fell silent.
Luigi.. sweet loving luigi.. his baby brother.. his twin. Embraced him slowly.
Hugging Mario close. Mario could only wrap his arms around Lu and grip tightly.
Trying to control his breathing and shakey voice. Else he'd cry more.
Luigis soft apology took Mario a bit by surprise. He was sorry that Mario had felt this way, that he hadn't felt comfortable enough to talk with him.
Mario tried to argue. No! It's not that! He trusts luigi entirely.
But his brother continues and what he says next shuts Mario up quickly.
He'd thought about it too.
Staying here.
Things are easier, there's no stress of where to get money.
No worries of angry old bosses and disappointed glares.
There was no struggles. At least, not the type of struggles they had in brooklyn.
Back there, they were no body. Two brothers with big dreams and heads up in the clouds.
But here, they could be somebody.
There were somebody.
The toads loved them. The Princess loved them.
Luigi made a point of pulling back to look at Mario sterny.
'The Princess loves you Mario.'
He couldn't speak.
So luigi continued.
Sure, he had his fears. But thats just who he is. Always the worrywart of the two.
He's like ma in that sense.
He can't help but think of the 'what if's'
What if there's more danger?
What if bowser comes back?
What if they get seperated-
Mario stepped in at this. Tightly holding luigis face in his hands.
He and his brother faces were now inches apart.
No. That will never happen.
He won't let it.
This seemed to hit something with luigi. The younger brother now looking rather emotional. Scared slightly. Tears in his eyes threating to fall.
Croaking a soft 'how can you be so sure-?'
How could Mario promise that,,?
This world is so much bigger than them both.
It's beautiful, it's magical, it's unknown,,
How..? How will they do this?
'Together..'
Luigi whimpered at marios voice.
They'll do this together.
Always together.
Everything will be okay. So long as theyre together..
Both brothers leaned to press their foreheads together.
Tears were shed.
Promises in Italian.
Just staying in each others embrace.
If they're doing this, then they will do it together..
Always.
They can make this new world their home.
After all. With luigi, Mario is already home...
#mario nintendo#luigi#luigi nintendo#Princess peach#peach nintendo#toad#bowser#Red String au#smb#poppetart#poppet writing#poppet rambles#mario#super mario#super mario bros#mareach#lueasley hinted#toadsworth#its just an overall concept thing#ITS SOOO LONG#fanfiction#i guess#very nervous to post this haha#please enjoy#red string au
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Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕
[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]
-> BLURB BAR <-
Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.
Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”
“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”
You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”
Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”
He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”
“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”
Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”
“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”
“Make me.”
Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”
“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”
Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”
You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.
“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”
You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.
He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.
Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.
There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”
Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”
#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar x you#a court of thorns and roses#rhysand smut#high lord rhys#high lord rhysand#rhysand acotar#rhys smut#rhys acotar#rhys x reader#rhys blurb#rhysand blurb#blurb bar#posh high lord with a rough around the edges wildling#yes i’ve been watching game of thrones#his love language is gift giving#and acts of service 🤭
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the girl next door 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.
Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.
"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.
"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.
"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."
"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.
"So..."
"Just go," she snips.
You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.
You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.
You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.
You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.
"Dang it," you whisper.
You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.
"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"
You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,
that needs to be fixed too.
You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.
"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.
You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.
"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.
"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."
You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."
He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."
You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.
"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.
You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.
You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.
"And your name? Neighbour?"
You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out.
“Is it just you over here?” He asks.
You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy.
“Oh, you got kids? A husband?”
You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway.
You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list.
“Mom,” you say.
“Ah, makes sense. You in school?”
You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly.
“Anyway...” he says.
You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that.
“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there.
You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent.
“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.”
You huff and push the mower over.
“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house.
“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes.
You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says.
You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away.
The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner.
“You figure it out?” She asks.
“No,” you flop onto the couch.
“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.”
“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.”
“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers.
You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is.
🏠
Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind.
As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil.
You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’.
You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you.
You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair.
“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat.
“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.”
“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.”
“Oh, uh, okay.”
You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin.
“Hello?” She sweetens her tone.
“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.”
“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.”
“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.”
His smile is just as charming as his introduction.
“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?”
“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.”
You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.
“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.”
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#mcu#marvel#captain america#au#silverfox au
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DESCENSO
[yandere! king magnifico x reader]
summary: snippets of king magnifico's love with you, his darling, a bright light in a kingdom he is rapidly losing control over.
[you assume queen amaya's role in this fic, but this is a gn!reader fic and there is no reference to reader's gender.]
warnings: THIS IS A YANDERE POST/FIC. read at your own risk. pretty tame, but watch out for auditory hallucinations, aggressive behaviour and the like. one mention of blood, and one mention of murder.
word count: 3.6k+ words
a/n: so...wish was low-key ass (asha deserved a better movie). but magnifico is one of the few highlights of the movie, and he is so ripe for yandere potential!!! a traumatised man who clings to the people's wishes out of his own skewed sense of right or wrong and his descent into madness (as poorly as it was done)? ooh baby!!! so for my writing comeback, enjoy this fic! (i'm also taking a lot of liberties with the wish system and overall lore because the way they explained it was irritatingly confusing with so many plot gaps, so if there are any inconsistencies please forgive them haha)
please reblog and reply! would love to see your comments!


✵ When his homeland was ravaged and his parents were murdered in cold blood by bandits and thieves, Magnifico, having just barely come into his own as a man, in his grief, swore he would never cause harm like this to befall any home he would find ever again. He would run, and run, with only a tattered tapestry being the last reminder of the birthplace he knew would never exist again.
✵ His gift of sorcery was, despite his innate talent, not an easy one contrary to popular belief. Years of blood, sweat and tears were spent pouring over tomes and scrolls filled with the whispers of strength and potential. He would travel all across the Iberian peninsula, seeking out and absorbing knowledge to protect himself. He travelled often, collecting books and tomes to keep for himself (especially one rather large book unexpectedly given by an odd stranger that he never dared to open), and never settling down in fear of danger befalling him and anyone he would meet.
✵ That is, until he met you.
✵ He'd never have known today was going to be any special. The sky is clear, a light breeze flowing through the ports, with grand sailboats almost flying across the Strait of Gibraltar. Magnifico reads his notebook of spells by a small cathedral, the only place he had been able to beg for sanctuary. As he angrily scratches out the wrong glyphs with his stylus, a leaf, its hues of midnight blue and green rich and fresh, casually falls onto his notebook. Irritated, he looks up.
(In his older years, he would realise it was a mere coincidence that a simple leaf, serendipity, let him discover you.)
✵ You are a vision as you pick oranges from trees by the cliff overlooking the docks, hands skilled and adept. Despite your simple garb denoting your lack of status, you are stunning. Magnifico swears he can almost hear your sighs of exertion as you drop a hefty basket of said oranges. His hardened heart sinks, but it is not a bad feeling, not at all.
✵ His...infatuation feels like he's drowning in marzipan, a sweet, beautiful sight for him to consume and devour, gorge on until he cannot eat anymore. It feels like drinking rosewater, or even like the feel of lavender oil, a soothing balm in his soul he cannot bear to let go of. He shakes his thoughts, palms suddenly sweaty and ruining the ink of his spellbook as he decides, for the very first time since the massacre, to bear his heart to someone.
You.
✵ And it all started with a simple "Are you alright?!" As he haphazardly shoved his book into his rucksack and rushed to help you on that fateful day.
✵ Years pass after your fateful meeting and eventual marriage. Building the kingdom of Rosas with you as his beloved partner is a dream that Magnifico has nearly completed in full earnest. The people adore him and you...you are loved too, yes, but you prefer to be more in the background, wanting to support your husband, yet your reserved nature not being the best suited for public speaking.
(A small, tiny, itsy bitsy little part of Magnifico, tucked away beneath his glossy veneer of a royal persona, secretly prefers it this way.)
✵ By now, the wish-granting is in full effect. Every new resident of Rosas is told of the miracles their king provides (often with great enthusiasm by its citizens.) You willingly petition to give up your wish to the king during court, in exchange for your utopian life in Rosas, and King Magnifico will grant it in front of the entire kingdom, a spectacle of light and wonder.
✵ To be truthful, Magnifico loves the power to help his people. It feels euphoric, granting their wishes as his power flows from his very essence to aid the world. The way the people's faces light up when he gives them their heart's...no, their soul's desire, it strokes his ego in a way little else can do. The hypnotic allure of power flouncing through his fingertips is a tempting feeling for reasons he cannot describe with common words.
✵ But, unbeknownst to the general population, he saves his most powerful magic for you, his darling, his star that fell from the heavens, the one he loves with every fibre of his mortal flesh. You are that little else who matters more than actually granting people's wishes. Your wishes are more important to Magnifico. And that is especially true today...
.
.
.
The sun is rising as you peer over your documents in your personal study, with trade agreements and decrees that make your head spin. Magnifico has little interest in these matters, so as the second half of the royal couple and the ruler who actually bothers to worry about these matters, you have to take on the bureaucratic duty.
The golden hour casts streaks of sunlight all over your spacious chamber, and the ceiling sparkles with accented gold paintings of constellations replicating the night sky above Rosas (Magnifico had instantly conjured them there when you lamented over the plain white stucco on top). You hear your door open.
“My love?”
You crane your neck and smile as the white-cloaked figure of Magnifico saunters in with a restlessness that belies his stormy blue eyes. He seems rather nervous, hands already twitching with sparks of sorcery that make you eye him fondly. He always acted much younger than his slowly graying dark hair would have one believe.
“¿Mi rey?” You soften your gaze. "What's wrong?"
Magnifico sits on the armrest of your chair, leaning in to inhale the scent of the nape of your neck as he sighs in relief. He seems rather apologetic suddenly, arms hugging himself as he eyes you with those same blue eyes, lightening just a bit so they seem like circles of roiling seawater and not storm clouds crying in anger.
“It’s your birthday today, my love.”
You raise your eyebrows, relieved that it is nothing more than a trivial matter. "Oh, who cares about that nonsense? You know I never truly celebrate my birthday publicly, Magnifico. Just you and I—"
“My...Our people have not made celebrations in your honour.” You tilt your head at his rather matter-of-fact statement, your brows furrowing in concern as you realise Magnifico has become rather upset.
“Magnifico, I—“
“Rosas should be celebrating YOU LIKE I DO! I would create miracles for you, destroy mountains, reshape forests for you, my love. The least my people can do is to acknowledge that you even exist as my spouse and consort!”
You sigh and ruffle his hair, soothing his heaving breaths as you gently wipe his glimmering eyes. “No, Magnifico...all I need is you, mi rey. You, the man I love, with me by my side.” Magnifico leans into your touch, chest slowing as he calms down.
"I just wish the world saw how much I adore you, my light," Magnifico mutters as he pulls off you and gets off the armrest. He turns around in a flourish of his shimmery cape to face you, left hand outstretched as his magic conjures a small figurine of your visage, made of glittering, mirror-like crystal. You chuckle. "You are such a hopeless romantic, mi rey." "Only for you, my love." He then leans in to kiss your forehead, eyes half-lidded as he watches you with adoring eyes.
"Only you."
✵ Rosas is no exception to the rule of time, so years pass as is the natural order of things. The kingdom has only grown in scale and vibrancy, people slowly but surely filling the kingdom with every day that passes. You and Magnifico settle into your roles as King and consort, Magnifico's magic allowing you both to last longer than your people could ever imagine.
✵ And, well...Magnifico begins to grow resentful. ✵ Wish-granting is becoming more of a chore than a true display of his powers for the common people to admire and sing their praises for. Week by week, day by day, he must grant wishes to the people who seem utterly ungrateful, only waiting for their turn at a chance for power, opportunity, or some other useless wish that Magnifico, for lack of a better term, could not give a rat's ass about. And they have begun to take his sorcery for granted.
.
.
. "¡Joder!" You startle as Magnifico sends his tubes of potions flying, clattering, shattering onto the polished marble floor with a CRASH!, the purple liquid seeping out onto the tile. Your husband is not like himself tonight, all anger and no lighthearted smugness, no kindness at all. He heaves, arms crackling with pale blue energy, fingertips craning as if they were claws. You had come here to bring him to bed, the moon having risen long ago and the lights of Rosas dimmed for the night. He had recently become more irritable and gruff, but you had been assuaged with honeyed words from him assuring you it was alright and he was just having an off-season. When you had opened the mirrored door to his private laboratory with a wave of your hand (only he trusted you with the gestures), you had not imagined it would be this dire. "¿Mi rey? Please...come to bed. You seem unwell, and experimenting all night is not good for your health, even if you want—" "NO!" He angrily circles the laboratory, furious as he crunches the glass of the broken test tubes beneath the sole of his boots. His pupils are contracted, and his breaths are constricted, as if he needs to explode lest he causes something truly harmful. "My people....they take and take and they take, with no thanks or gratitude for me! I take care of them, I clothe and house them out of the kindness of my own heart, and all they want is their wishes!??" He sends a bronze cauldron flying with his magic, a burst of pale blue that makes the cauldron clatter next to your feet. you step back, and the squeak of your slippers alerts him, his head snapping at you. He is on you in an instant, arms wrapped around you like a vice as he gasps and snarls hefty breaths, chest rising up and down in rapid succession. He breathes your scent of orange and cinnamon, and his heartbeat slows to a simmer, and he quietly murmurs, voice tired. "I'm sorry...sorry, so sorry, my love. I just...I cannot keep giving and giving and seeing n-nothing given back to me from my people..." Magnifico's voice is chock full of exhaustion, a pain he cannot let you truly feel. "Our people are a demanding bunch, are they not?" Your attempt at a joke makes Magnifico huff with mirth, a rare occurrence these days. He pulls back and brings his hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into it. His magic, now much less volatile, manifests as small glittery specks around you both. "They are. they really are," your husband replies. He looks at the glitter surrounding you both and brings his other hand to reach out for them. You watch him do this and quirk a small smile. "You do not need to bow to our people's wills every single day. You are only one man." You push in for a kiss on his soft lips, and he clearly wasn't expecting it, his blush hot and red as you pull away, turbulent blue eyes brightening like clouds parting on a sunny day.
The soft linen of your night clothes swishes as you begin to exit his laboratory, and you turn your head to utter one last thing. "Tell me when you are struggling, please. I'll always be here for you, Magnifico." As you head off, Magnifico places his fingers on his lips, tracing the remains of your lips on his own, heart racing once more with a longing that threatens to consume him. He looks up to the high ceiling of his observatory, the dark austerity of the structure calling to him. Wait.
Yes. Oh, yes, he finally knows how to fix this. "Thank you, my love. Thank you, so very much."
And with a flourish of his cape, he puts on a manic grin as he levitates the broken glass with a flick of his hands. Time to put his plan into action.
✵ Another few decades have passed, and it is currently the present day. Rosas is a flourishing, robust kingdom, a place that most other countries would consider a utopia, all thanks to King Magnifico and his consort ( ). In the years leading to now, Magnifico has only grown in skill and power, thanks in part to his new form of wish granting that has eased his own suffering. ✵ Every month or so, Magnifico takes the people's wishes when they turn of age, the most important wish, the one that powers one's being. He takes care of them in his laboratory, and on the same night, he grants one person's wish, which of course, he does with his usual penchant for spectacle. ✵It's so much easier. No more begging, no more exhaustion, no more fear of handing power to the wrong person's hands. After all, only he trusts himself with this power he worked so hard to hone and maintain.
(What he fails to mention to his people is that their wishes are of no benefit to him, not anymore. He has lost any true care for them, for his new system is to only prevent them from trying anything. He only cares for the one closest to him now.) ✵He has you to thank, after all. His smart, gorgeous, talented, beautiful ray of light, who allowed him to even think of this new system, and who stayed after his outburst that should have scared you off. And he does thank you, by pampering you as much as he can. ✵ He conjures the finest clothes for you, pieces of cashmere and silks and taffetas. He makes (forces) the cooks to cook for your every whim and desire. On public tours of the kingdom, he makes a reminder for any citizen who even inconveniences you just once. ✵ And later on, if people forget the miscreants even exist...well, that is not his problem to care for.
✵ Magnifico needs a new royal apprentice, as the last one blew up part of his front-facing study. He could have easily fixed that with a wave of his hand (and he did, all while glaring daggers at his very terrified apprentice), but he fired the man nonetheless. Frankly, he felt good getting rid of him. He was completely useless at making even the simplest potions anyway. ✵ Sure enough, after a soul-sucking set of consultations, the last hopeful, Asha from the village of Hamlet, arrives. Magnifico sees you talk with the young girl as you two ascend the Sisyphean number of stairs leading to his study. His heart flickers with a sense of paranoia once he sees Asha; something about her bothers him. ✵ He's been recently having similar bouts of suspicions and delusions, all green-tinged scenarios of you leaving him and the kingdom he worked so hard for falling into chaos. The little vegetable seller by the sea during your royal tours could be an assassin to kill you. The little child who you greet by the palace could be a plant from a neighbouring kingdom set out to kill you. The royal kitchen could poison his beloved's meal and you would choke out and pass in his arms. ✵ Whispers cloud his mind, his ears fine-tuned to the haunting words they serenade for his ego. They tell him that this girl is someone who will destroy him and all he loves.
✵ Everywhere, he sees your death. And every time, he vows to prevent those ideas from ever reaching the light of day.
✵ But for now, as you introduce Asha to Magnifico at his doorstep, he quietly grits his teeth and forces his lips into a smile. Maybe this Asha girl will be helpful for him, and not spell the kingdom's downfall he has seen in his visions.
✵ A Star was ripped from the sky. ✵ A. Star. Was ripped. From the sky!!!! ✵ This is not good. Not good at all. Magnifico was specifically reminded of this in his visions. A star falling out of the sky, destroying the kingdom of Rosas and dragging you into the depths of darkness, leaving him forever alone. .
.
. Magnifico paces around his study, you sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, eyeing him with concern masking your wariness. A worried Magnifico is a reckless Magnifico, and as he throws a sacred tome to the fireplace, it raises alarm bells in your heart.
You immediately get up a second after when he reaches towards the locked Book of Spells, ignoring his buzzing blue sting-flies as they leap from the glass case as a defensive spell. His hands begin to be ravaged, but he ignores the pain and blood as he pulls the book out, ignoring the bottle of obsidian oil as he opens the pages. "Mi rey, forbidden magic is not the answer, you know this!" You yank his arm away from the Book, and Magnifico's eyes lock with yours, eyes narrowed in a desperate glare. For a moment, you swear they flash an unnatural green. "You should do well to not test me, ( )." You frown, upset. Magnifico does not threaten. He whines like a child at times, yes. He even yells if he's truly tested on a bad day, angry and petulant. All of that you have seen in your decades of marriage to your beloved. But to threaten you? You fear something has gone terribly wrong, even as you convince him to put the book away. As you both gaze over the kingdom from his personal balcony, his arm around your waist has never been tighter than it has been today, bloodied fingers gripping you as if you are a doll he cannot bear to let go of. He whispers in your ear.
"I'm sorry, my dear. I just...you are the only thing I want to keep safe anymore. Tell me that you understand. Please." He kisses your hand with an adoration that feels heavy and oppressive. He gazes into your eyes, and they are back to their crystal blue, reflecting the bright blue of Rosas' morning sky. "I am so lucky to have you," he whispers once more. You wonder if you feel the same.
✵ In hindsight, you should have convinced him more effectively. ✵ The minute you had seen the centre of his study already opened, stairs leading a downward spiral into the depths of darkness, you feared the worst. And you were right, much to your exponentially increasing terror. ✵ Your husband, still dressed in his white robes, is hunched over his worktable, inhaling audibly as he pulls out a staff of crystal, sleek and sharp, from the cauldron bubbling with the same unnatural green magic you swore you saw reflected in his eyes. ✵ You know you are outmatched once his laughs of excitement deepen and stagger into maniacal wheezes that fill the dark chamber, the green consuming the background as he turns to face you. ✵ "Daaaaarlinnnng..." ✵ So, the only thing you can do is try and reason with him.
.
.
. "So you side with her, then? That traitor?"
The way he speaks Asha's name with such disgust coating his words already adds to the mountain of warning signs your heart is screaming at you. But you press on. "No, Mi rey, I—" The sharp end of his staff lands only inches away from your neck. Magnifico tilts his head to the side in a mockery of innocence, and if this was a different, much less terrifying time, you'd admire the way his eyes filled with adoration and the way his white hair was slightly dishevelled, his smile wide like a hyena's. "You know, I've realised a few things." He saunters closer to you, staff back at his side like a knight with his sword. He hugs your waist, eyes gleaming green with adoration.
"No one matters to me. It has been this way for a long, long time. Not the kingdom, not my cavalry, not my staff or my alchemists. Not anymore." He gently places a hand on your chin, and you resist the urge to scream and push him away. "But I love you. And me, of course," He adds with a humorless chuckle and continues. "But all this time, I've loved you so much. I built this cursed kingdom for you, I studied sorcery to provide you the best life I could give with my heart and soul. Every bit of anger, every bit of sadness, every bit of happiness, I feel for you." You try and reach for a ceremonial dagger that is only inches away, hanging on the dungeon wall. You're so very close to it, but you miss Magnifico's eyes shift quickly to the left and notice. "So when I see you conspiring...with that STAIN on our happiness..." He grabs your hand, crushing it like a thumbscrew would, and you realise your hopes of escape are dashed. "...I get, well, a little upset." Magnifico grits his teeth, shards of crystal-like mirrors blasting up from the dungeon floor, and you finally scream as he grabs you close, the dungeon ripping into itself as you both rise up on a small platform made of black glass. Now back in the grand study, you can only watch helplessly as he slams you to the floor, staff pointed at your injured form. The mirrors only grow higher and higher, surrounding you both as he laughs the most sinister laugh you have ever heard from him, oily, layered like a crowd of Magnificos are laughing along with him, revelling in your fear. His eyes are acid green, and his smile is wistfully manic as he speaks his final words in a sing-songy tone.
"After all, if I can destroy myself for you and you don't even want me anymore...well, we can't have that, can we?" His perfect white smile is hellish.
"I'll keep you safe here where no one else can harm you...all to myself."

gif by @/picsani border by @/enchanthings-a
#king magnifico x reader#yandere king magnifico#king magnifico#yandere male#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x female reader#yandere drabble#yandere#wish disney#wish 2023#tw yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios
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helloo! could you recommend your favorite jungkook and yoongi fics? thank you and have a lovely day ♡
hey there~ 💛
... tbh i haven’t read too many fics for my boys lately 🙈
i've been trying to work through the books sitting on my shelf collecting dust + i got sucked back into fallout now that the show is out lol.
but i do have some all-time favorites!!
please mind the warnings/tags - you're responsible for your own reading consumption. that said, all of these fics are 🔞
i hope you have a great day nonnie and if you have any recs send them my way 🥰!
JUNG KOOK FICS
the crimson shell series by @angelicyoongie
mermaid aus are my lifeblood istg. and this is one of the best one's i've ever read!! it's dark, it's creepy, it's foreboding - and tantalizing. everything i love about mermaid/siren aus crammed into one series.
you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.
make you mine two-shot by @colormepurplex2
i'm a sucker for abo, and as such, have read a looot of it over the years. its a genre that's very easy to descend into wtf-how-are-they-still-alive-after-THAT territory but this fic does it very well in a way i haven't seen too often. i loved the world-building and set up.
Alphas might rule the world, but Jungkook finds himself being ruled by the need to make you his. Omegas are rare, precious, and pliant. At least, most are. When you present late, well into your twenties, you're already set in your headstrong ways; a challenge even for a commanding alpha like Jungkook. Add to that the centuries-long feud between your families and the last thing anyone expected was for him to claim you as his soulmate.
a sea of indigo series by @foxymoxynoona this was the first BTS fic i ever read... and is a big reason as to why i got into the fandom in the first place. i had no clue who they were before then. i'd heard of them + listened to agust d without knowing it was yoongi 💀 but this fic made me check out BTS RUN and now here we are 🤪
Pitbull Hybrid Jungkook has finally been freed from the fighting rings, and now finds himself at Marigold Sanctuary & Transition Estate, a place for healing and self-discovery for rescued hybrids. It's stupid, dumb, cheesy, and hell-bent on helping Jungkook "heal" and "find himself" and "decide the course of his life." And right at the center of it is Y/N, a nurse who's got everyone bamboozled that she's like some awesome person. She's not that great. Jungkook hates it here.
YOONGI FICS
witch oneshot by @sailoryooons
this is easily one of my top 3 yoongi fics. the world building, the tension, the relationship between yoongi and reader. it ticks all my boxes and vividly paints a picture of this universe. i adore the concept, and love the way this fic is brought to life through sailoryooons storytelling.
For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand.
desolate series by @angelicyoongie
one of the first hybrid fics i've read for bts 😭 i love my lil meow meow and the set-up for this fic is amazing. it takes a fresh direction with the hybrid trope and builds a relationship that feels organic and progresses very naturally💛
you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.
ps. i woof you oneshot by @gimmesumsuga
this one is just so so cute and asjhdjsghfjs!! i adored remi and thought about having yoongi and holly as neighbors for days after reading this lol.
The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!”
first and last and always oneshot by @floralseokjin
i'm not one for holiday fics/aus usually but there's something about this one that i absolutely adored. it felt very realistic and drew me into the relationship within the first few paragraphs. the angst is so well done and heartfelt, it made me cry lol.
You and Yoongi broke up two months ago. It was mutual, you’re positive, but there’s one teeny tiny issue... You never told your parents, and now they’ve invited you back home for Christmas. Both of you. You can’t say no, but you also can’t bear to go alone, so you do the only thing you can think of, plead with Yoongi to come with you and pretend like everything’s okay...
go send these authors some love!!
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June 2024 fic roundup
Here are my favorite June reads:
👶📝 Of Our Own Making by @television-overload
I totally forgot to put this on last month’s list! I absolutely loved reading each new chapter every morning at work. I can’t not read a marriage of convenience fic, especially when there’s a baby involved.
💌🦃 Small Lives Awake by Jesemie’s Evil Twin
You know when you read something so sweet, so pure, that you feel like it breaks your heart in the best way? That’s this fic. It’s incredibly fluffy without being cheesy, and the writing style is so elegant.
🏝️👨👩👦 The Eden Series by Jacque LaVa
Was this the best fic I’ve ever read? No. Was everyone OOC? Definitely. Did I still enjoy it? You bet. I cannot resist the siren call of a survival fic, an amnesia fic, or a kidfic, and this had all three.
👰♀️🤵♂️ The Marriage Spectacular by @cecilysass
I’ve never met a cecilysass fic I didn’t like, and this was no exception. Fake relationship my beloved! Only one bed my beloved! Mulder and Scully being idiots in love my beloved! Absolutely delightful. 10/10, no notes.
🌀☔️ Hurricane Season by beduini & rah
This fic perfectly captures M&S’s “we’re completely and utterly devoted to each other and literal soulmates yet we still doubt our place in each other’s lives and we never actually talk about it” dynamic that we know and love. It takes place when William is a few months old and they’re still trying to define their relationship. I loved it SO MUCH!
(hmu for an epub — the chapters are long, which makes it easy to lose your place if you don’t finish the chapter in one sitting)
❄️✈️ WHITEOUT by EvanBlack
A classic “Mulder and Scully get in a plane crash and have to survive until help arrives” story. (You all know by now how much I love a survival fic!)
I absolutely adored the dynamic between them in this one. They’re down SO bad for each other, and it shows. I especially loved the beginning when they’re both wishing they were sitting next to each other so they could hold hands. That’s the good stuff right there!
🛁🧪 Antidote by Rachel Howard and Karen Rasch
Mulder and Scully investigate an unknown contagion in a remote town. You can probably guess what happens from there.
This was the perfect road trip read! Engaging and exciting without being too plot-heavy.
🤰👶 40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog
What if the IVF worked?
The most delectable pregnancy fluff with a dash of smut and a healthy serving of Mulder and Scully figuring out their relationship.
🪶🐎 Omens by @lepusarticus
I cannot say enough good things about this fic. It’s definitely a new addition to the Holy Grail list.
It’s a casefic, but it doesn’t feel like a casefic…more like an exploration of magic and family and love. With its spooky small-town gothic vibe and emphasis on powerful women and strange houses and ancient magic, it reminds me a lot of my favorite book series, The Raven Cycle. (If you liked this fic, you should go read TRC!)
This fic has layers and nuance and themes and motifs and gorgeous metaphors and one incredibly hot scene that ticked all my boxes. Even the OCs are rich and compelling. I would read a whole series set in this universe!
💥🚗 Goshen by Bonetree
Emily angst plus survival plus tending to each other’s injuries plus hurt/comfort? Yes please! I love it when I find a fic that seems to be created in a lab just for me.
(After reading the summaries of the following installments, I’m not quite sure if they’re really my thing. Has anyone read the rest of the series? Did you like it?)
👦🏻🦊 A Boy and His Fox by 6hoursgirl
Mulder and Scully “platonically” coparent their son. Mulder learns what it means to be a dad. Pure, unadulterated fluff! If you like kidfics, this one is a must-read.
📚👩⚕️ Heuvelmans’ On the Track by The_Mythopeodic
This fic is a fandom classic, and I can definitely see why. The author uses language in unexpected and interesting ways, which is not something you see very often in fic.
I tend to go for “popcorn” fics that are addictive and easy to binge. This one is more like a hearty slab of meat. Both types are good in their own way, but this fic made me work for it.
Anyway, I got a bit frustrated with myself around the halfway mark and kept having to reread passages a few times to truly understand what’s going on. I lamented that I needed a reading guide like they used to give you in English class.
After putting it aside for a few days, I came back and DEVOURED the second half. I don’t want to spoil anything, but if you’ve read it, you know what I’m talking about. I loooooved seeing Scully be resourceful and scrappy and capable, and the epilogue is incredible. I’m glad I pushed through!
🪡🌨️ Skamania County by Sarie_Fairy
This is actually the second time I’ve read this one, which I didn’t realize until near the end when I tried to leave kudos, haha. Anyway, I loved it both times! It has everything that makes survival fics so enticing: a nice trip to the woods that quickly goes wrong, one person hiding their life-threatening injury from the other, the intimacy of tending to their wounds, cuddling (naked) for warmth, and finally resolving that UST. Chef’s kiss!
🧙♀️🔭 The Mars Differential by @asteraceae-blue
This one is a WIP, and I cannot wait for the rest! It’s an intriguing casefile with plenty of msr.
I also read a bunch of @o6666666’s fics thanks to this masterlist that made its way around recently!
They are the master of writing fic that hurts so good. This IVF arc one might be my favorite, along with this season 9 one that squeezed my heart like a stress ball.
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Hey I’m kinda new to the fandom and at first I thought these guys were actually casted as the 🐍 boys but I looked it up and they’re just in random shows. Was this like a fancast or something? How come everyone agreed to use the same actors when writing about the guys? I need to know the lore😭
Hi hi hi theeeee biggest apology for taking forever to respond. pls accept my love 💛🌟 SO, I haven't actually read any of the original fanfictions that Lorenzo (Enzo) Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott are from. Though I know Theo is canon, there is a fanfiction that gave him more of a personality and I believe where he got his fancast face from. If im correct all the original fanfiction for these characters started on wattpad. Please I apologise if I get any of this info incorrect its just what I've picked up myself or learnt from friends.



Mattheo Riddle I believe he was created from the fanfiction Possessive by yasmineamaro. It's a draco Malfoy fic but he's a character that gets introduced in it. I only know this based off what friends have told me. I know his face claim is Benjamin Wadsworth and the most pics are taken from when he was in Deadly Class. Which I recommend watching if you haven't, it's a good show and he's gorgeous in it. Mattheo seems to be switched between Tom Riddles son/brother depending on who writes the fic, but is originally Tom and Bellatrix's son.
His original personality is also described as cold, possessive, jealous, or at least that's how I was introduced to the character and like to try mostly keep him. Of course, with fanfiction you can bend characters in a way that fits the plot or scenario of your fic and character (reader). The original fic looks to have been taken down, but this link explains what the book is about and Mattheo's character.
Lorenzo Berkshire Enzo I believe came from the fanfiction Filthy created by babynaomi. Another original Draco Malfoy fanfiction haha and him as more of a side character. His face claim is Louis Partridge original picked from Enola Holmes. Also he is adorable in that, especially the second film. Enzo in this fic is a fucking prick. He's a perverted, slimy git who manipulates and uses women. Again Louis is so adorable its easy to think of Enzo as super sweet, I try to find a blend between the two personalities. But always trying to remember that Enzo is a Slytherin for a reason. Pretty sure his mother is also bellatrix, so he’s suppose to be Mattheos half-brother and Draco’s cousin. Don’t quote me on that 🫢
Theodore Nott Theo is originally mentioned in the Harry Potter series and in the Cursed child. From what I know, he was a part of Draco Malfoy's gang, and his father was a death eater who was caught in the Order of the Pheonix with Lucius. Also that he invented the time turner in the Cursed child and sent to Azkaban by Harry as an adult. But his fanfiction which gives him more of a personality that I base my writing on at least, and the one I discovered he was in, is Secret and Masks by Emerald_Slytherin. His face claim is Lorenzo Zurzolo from the Italian show Baby. Also, another good show, and I fucking love his hair in that.
I'm not sure how everyone just came to agree but I bloody love that we all did. When I first got into them those were just the three guys already picked as face claims and I love them all and the personalities that have been picked. I hope this helped, I assume you already discovered this out since I took so long, but I appreciate you reaching out 💛 I need to read these og fics tbh
#જ⁀➴pizza delivery#anon ♡#I hope this helped#and I hope I’m mostly factually correct 🫢🙃#slytherin boys#theodore nott#enzo berkshire#Mattheo riddle#Slytherin boys lore
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 37
Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader
Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,
Warnings: None! Enjoy!
Words: 3547
A/N: I have added a small part from the book Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman, and all credit goes to the original writer.
Lots of love, thank you for the support
Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys @massivelyfullenthusiast @iimichie
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Namjoon looked at you gently, his eyes caring. The alpha reached for a book he had been reading for a while now, Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman.
The packalpha kept you close as you layed sweetly tucked away with Jimin and Jungkook on each side of you. The youngest alpha layed in front of you, his eyes sweet and caring on your form.
The young man wasn't able to go to sleep; he was far too worried about you to truly rest. Even when your scent has lifted by now and you don't seem as upset anymore, he was still worried in the back of his mind.
Instead, you just seemed tired and yawny and definitely had enough for the day. They all knew well why this happened and that it would be for the best if you would get to rest up for a while longer.
And so, when your hand reached up and nudged against Namjoon's, looking up at the packalpha with those eyes he learned to adore over time. Looking up at him in hope, he couldn't help but coo at you.
„Aigoo, aren't you just the cutest baby?" He said under his breath, smiling softly so that his dimples showed, letting his much bigger hand cover yours.
You squeezed his fingers slightly, letting your interwoven fingers rest next to you as Namjoon got into reading, his calming timber filling the large room.
"The two systems of thought can best be understood as separate and complementary modes of processing information.
System 1 operates automatically and quickly, without explicit attention or conscious effort or awareness. It operates on the basis of heuristics, the mental shortcuts that allow us to process and respond to the world with remarkable efficiency.
System 2, by contrast, is slow and effortful. It operates with deliberate attention, logical analysis, and conscious reasoning. Although we can voluntarily direct our attention and choose to engage System 2, in most instances, we rely on System 1.
The two systems work in tandem, but they do not work in harmony. System 1 often leads us astray because of its tendency to produce easy, quick, and emotionally pleasing responses that we accept without questioning.
System 2, by contrast, is capable of correcting the errors of System 1, but it takes time and effort to do so."
The packalpha's voice was gentle, calming your eyes as you watched Jungkook's rising and falling chest.
You rested calmly, the oldest of the three alphas settling you down even further. All of the plush and comfortable blankets and fabrics you were tucked away into felt comfortable on your skin.
You didn't understand everything Namjoon was reading to you about, but you found comfort in his presence, and while poetry was sometimes complicated with the language for you, you liked it a lot when he would read for you. And so you listened closely.
„Another key aspect of the two systems of thought is that they are influenced by different types of motivation. System 1 is motivated by the desire for immediate gratification and pleasure, whereas System 2 is motivated by the desire for accuracy and logic.
This means that our mental processes are often influenced by our goals and emotions, which can lead to biases and errors in our thinking and decision-making. It is important to be aware of these biases and to use System 2 to correct for them when possible.”
„Oppa?” You asked softly, playing with the packalpha's fingers as the man looked over to you, the book in hand that was borrowed from the library.
While the alpha owned stacks upon stacks of books, full bookcases in his room until he couldn't get any more, just stacking the stories onto themselves on the floor or any space available.
He has enjoyed going to the libraries since forever. He used to go there to study growing up, but he always loved reading, and the relationship developed as he grew older.
The man didn't get to go that often to see new stories as much as he wished he could, but whenever he could, he left with a bunch to read, even though he knew he wouldn't have enough time to read everything.
He loved visiting bookstores, especially whenever they went to different countries. Sometimes, his packmates would get angry at him for his suitcase going over the weight limit (even though he packed less to keep space for the books he would bring home! ).
„Hm?” He hummed softly, looking at you with soft eyes. He leaned closer to brush your hair behind your ear, smiling at you.
„Do you like cupcakes?" You asked almost in a whisper, your grip tightening onto his fingers.
Even when the mall trip didn't go as well as everyone hoped it might, you remember the sweet time you shared with Jimin earlier this morning when you and him baked.
The almond cupcakes with butter cream that you so carefully decorated and prepared with the sweet help of the alpha were still waiting in the fridge.
You weren't sure if any of the alphas had seen them yet or even had a bite or taste of them, but you really hoped that they would like them. They would, right?
„Of course I do, little pup, do you?” The packalpha wasn't sure where the question came from, but he watched you lovingly.
You nodded. The times when you got to have a sweet treat weren't many, but the last time you tasted a cupcake, probably in elementary school in a baking class, was a nice memory you kept.
„M-Me and Jimin-Oppa made cupcakes for every-one." You whispered softly, having Jungkook's sleepy eyes open wider, soon creasing as he smiled, his teeth showing.
Namjoon followed suit, his dimples on full display as he leaned over, leaving sweet pecks on your forehead.
„Really? Awh, babybun!” The youngest gushed, his arms wrapping you closer to his chest, having Jimin grumble lightly from his deep sleep.
The alpha slept calmly, with occasional soft snores leaving him. He felt content with you in his arms, your back right against his chest as he breathed calmly.
The third youngest made sure you were kept warm and cuddly, as during sleep his body naturally turned warmer as a natural reaction to your omega sleepy scent in close proximity for a longer time.
„That's so sweet of you, pup. Should alphas have a taste now?” The packalpha asked gently, not sure if that was what you wanted.
You nodded bashfully; you really wanted to see their reaction. Before you could say anything, Jimin woke up, lightly rising up as he blinked away his sleep.
„Hyung, you didn't tell me about making cupcakes with babybun!” Jungkook grumbled; he wanted to be the first one to cook with you. Though the eldest would surely be even more jealous,..
Jimin hummed, too sleepy to realise what he was necessarily saying, as he ruffled up his hair, looking over at the alpha, who sported a not too deeply meant frown.
To be truthful, the youngest alpha was still far too excited about the promised sweet treats to get really upset at his hyung for keeping away the exciting news, and he wasn't too upset in general either.
„Come on, bun bun, let's go!” The youngest said happily, picking you up quickly before Jimin could realise that you were suddenly out of his arms; he was already on his way.
The packalpha soon followed, chuckling at Jimin, who grumbled out a soft: What? as he watched you be carried away to the kitchen, closing the book and putting it away.
The two alphas who currently stood in the kitchen, Taehyung and Yoongi, preparing spring rolls, looked over, both smiling at seeing your still slightly dazed, ruffled-up state.
Both of the men had aprons on; the older was in charge of frying and preparing the few different fillings, while the younger helped with folding the spring rolls and making the side dishes.
„Hi kitty.” Yoongi said gently, his gummy smile on full display, as he turned back around to take out the crispy spring rolls.
They made three types, one vegetarian and the other two with meat. The first batch they prepared was already finished, with the filling consisting of cabbage, carrots, cilantro, garlic, and shallots with sesame oil and soy sauce, sugar, and a little rice vinegar and sriracha.
Taehyung was good with the folding; the rice paper never folded over itself, and he was clever in making sure to not place any of them too close to one another so when they would stick to one another.
„Babycheeks, do you want to have a taste? We are still making two more types; will you tell alphas which is your favourite?” You nodded sweetly, going over to the alpha, who smiled widely at you.
He picked up the still warm roll with chopsticks, dipping it into a sauce before he fed it to you, smiling as he saw you chew.
It was crispy but chewy, the filling delicious, and the sauce made the flavours pop even more. You nodded vigorously as you chewed, happy to have tasted something so nice.
„Is it a good kitten?” Yoongi asked gently, stirring the pan with the filling for another batch. This time it had shrimp and ground pork in it, along with fish sauce and some other things like cabbage and carrots.
„It's really tasty, oppa!” You exclaimed, your voice uplifted and happy, as you swallowed before speaking. You were very excited for dinner.
„Princess? Where did you go? ” Jimin's raspy voice from sleep mumbled, the alpha coming over to hug you close, letting his chin rest upon your head.
You hugged the alpha back, your arms wrapping around his waist. He kept you close, letting his scent go over you even more than had already happened.
„Hyung, the cupcakes!” Jungkook hoped to see them already, wanting to have a taste.
„Cupcakes?” Taehyung turned around from spooning the filling into the softening rice paper, his eyes filled with questions and a soft smile on his face. Yoongi looked over his shoulder too, but made sure to pay attention to the frying process.
"Yeah, pup and Jimin-ah made cupcakes for everyone this morning, right?” You nodded in response, agreeing with Namjoon's words. The alpha that helped you hummed softly, agreeing.
„You kept it secret, Hyung!" Tae gasped, acting as if Jimin had betrayed him. The older alpha chuckled.
„You don't have to eat them, Tae-ah." At his words, the younger gasped in offence, abandoning the now freshly folded spring roll and turning around, bewildered eyes on the older.
„Hyung!”
„I'm just joking; don't stress yourself; you'll get white hair."
„You're older; if anyone, you'll be the one with white hair!"
As Jimin went to disagree, your soft giggles interrupted them instead, smiling at them.
„Oppa, look!” You said gently, holding a tray full of the baked cupcakes. Jungkook was already holding one as he chewed on it, and Namjoon was just taking one himself.
Before the two, playfully arguing alphas could realise what was happening, Yoongi himself walked over, praising your work.
„They look really tasty, my kitten. Can I have one too?” He asked you gently, looking at the sprinkles and edible flowers you decorated the carefully done butter cream on top.
„Of course oppa!” You said, the man smiling even wider at your answer, leaning over to give you a caring forehead kiss, letting his hands caress your cheeks before he took one of the corner ones too.
„Bunny you have to bake more often, these are delicious!” Jungkook gushed, happily humming as he chewed, very pleased with the sweet treat.
The youngest was used to keeping a strict diet in check, but he would always make an exception for you. Gosh, he would do anything if he would get to have such sweet treats everyday.
It was fluffy, the batter rose so well, and the buttercream was airy and creamy, and overall a great mix of sweet and sour.
„Oh wow...” Namjoon whispered, tasting the cupcake. Both Jimin and Taehyung bounded over by then, each grabbing one themselves.
The younger hummed loudly, nodding at the taste, agreeing with everyone.
„You're so clever babycheeks! Alpha is very proud.” He said softly, letting you set the tray onto the dining table before he hugged you close, his chin going over your head as he gently rubbed your arms.
You smiled bashfully, not used to getting so many compliments. Just then Jin came inside, freshly showered with his hair only towel dried.
The eldest packmember's cheeks were tinted pink and he wore comfortable clothes. He was quick to notice everyone in the room eating the sweet treat, looking for the source himself. Before he got to ask though, Jungkook already bounded over.
„Hyung, have one too! Babybun and Jimin hyung made cupcakes, they are so good!”
„Really? Aigoo, you're so sweet cub, making a sweet treat for everyone?” He gushed, crouching slightly before you as he pecked your forehead, Taehyung's arms still wrapped around you.
„Oppa helped a-a l-lot...” You whispered softly, feeling bad that they were constantly complimenting you, but the alpha who helped you so much wasn't as praised.
„No, no my princess. I only helped with the mixing, you did everything yourself!” Jimin was quick to let you know, as he smiled at you. The cupcakes were really tasty...
„Is that so? Aren't you just the most clever, little pup. Alpha is very proud of you.” The packalpha said gently, pouring himself a cup of water as he gently watched over you, leaning against the counter.
Seokjin was quick to take one himself, and when he got the first bite of the sweet heaven, his eyes widened, quickly finishing the cupcake in a few bites.
„Peaches it's really tasty! Let's bake more often baby, did you have fun?” At your smiley nod, he gently combed through your hair, already planning the different cakes and treats he would make with you.
The alphas had you take a seat at the dining table, talking to you as they prepared all of the cutlery and plates, glasses and various dishes.
„...Of course you can come with us little kitten, we wouldn't mind. You'll just have to make sure to stick close, okay?” You said an okay, looking forward to when they would take you to their group photoshoot tomorrow.
The packalpha knew that it would require them being very careful, considering you would most likely be entering a slightly busy workspace, but they would always be close by to make sure you were okay.
You would get a VIP pass, and would stick close, and surely you would be okay. Maybe, if you would feel like it, they could take a group photo with you too...
When they would make an announcement, it might come in handy, to have a truly well photographed group picture with the whole pack to post online.
They haven't really talked about when the news would be released to the public, they would have to discuss it with their managers too and set on a precise date.
Namjoon wasn't truly keen on making a structured, email-like message that would come from HYBE directly to the ARMY. Maybe mentioning it in a podcast or a radio show would be smarter and less in everyone's face.
Even when they hoped with every fibre of their being, there were bound to be people disagreeing with this, and so they needed to be careful with the backlash, especially the one purely directed at you.
He could only imagine how stressful this would be for you, and so as a well-structured pack, they knew it would be best for you to have as much time as needed.
They had to figure out more things beforehand anyway; for example, the den was important for everyone, and it would be sweet and precious to have a nice and calm Christmas and New Year too.
The pack has already planned a few upcoming trips and events with you; some they have discussed more, some left only in the back of their minds as an idea to share in the future.
And Jin had a small idea like this at the back of his head for a little while by now, and so, today while you were away at the mall and in the morning with Jimin, the oldest alpha found a little gap in his busy schedule for it.
He had voice training and dance practices pretty much the entire day and got home earlier this afternoon, but before then, he took a short trip to a few clothing boutiques, hoping to find something he was looking for.
The alpha was planning to buy you a swimsuit, but since he wasn't sure of your exact measurements, after a short discussion with the store assistant, he left the few luxury stores with different sizes and styles, hoping at least one of these would be comfortable enough for you to wear with no worries.
Jin didn't know what colours or patterns you would go for; heck, he didn't even know if you would like to go swimming with them. But surely, since you wanted to go to Hawaii to see the sea turtles, you wouldn't mind the water?
And so, the alpha was left with many decisions to face, but in the end, he chose enough of everything so he hoped to get it all covered.
He could imagine you being way too frightened to try swimwear on in the try-on rooms, and so his best bet was to save the receipts and return any that you wouldn't like and wouldn't fit right.
As you all took a seat at the table, a freshly purchased peach juice they knew you liked and wouldn't upset your tummy in a tall glass before you, all of the pack members dug in.
You had a few neatly placed spring rolls on your plate, along with some side dishes like kim-chi or the sweet radish Namjoon plated for you.
„It's really nice, oppa!” You gasped, having the second oldest who sat next to you show a gummy smile, the man saying a soft thank you.
Truth be told, Yoongi was on his knees for you.
„...And what about the Harry Potter series?” You shook your head at Jimin's question, the man's eyes widening.
„We have to watch it, princess! I think you would love it!” He gasped, and Jungkook and Hoseok, who'd come over to the table as soon as the dinner was served, nodded at his thought.
„How about we watch one of the movies tonight, Sunny Bub?" He asked you gently, taking another fried roll into his chopsticks before he placed it on your table, noticing that you only had about two left.
You nodded happily, smiling widely with your eyes creasing slightly.
„Okay...” You said softly, looking forward to the movie. The dinner continued, with everyone enjoying the well-prepared meal.
„Cub?” You looked up from drinking, your eyes meeting Jin's gaze for a little second before you set the glass down, the alpha's sweet eyes watching over you. You hummed in question, listening.
„Would you like to go swimming with alphas tomorrow? We don't have to if you don't want to,-" though, the older man was interrupted by your vigorous nodding and excited gaze.
You didn't swim in years; honestly, you weren't too good at it, but there was always something about it that seemed so fun and calming to you, unless you weren't in too much of a deep water, of course.
"B-But, oppa, I don't have a swi-msuit..." You mumbled, only now remembering.
„It's okay, baby, I went to look for some this morning. Would you like to see them?” You gasped quietly before you nodded happily, sliding off of your chair before you hurried over to the oldest alpha.
Jin took your hand in his, and the other pack members smiled sweetly at your excitement as they started to clean up the table, happy that your mood had lifted even after the terrible afternoon.
„Are we going swimming in the morning then?” Taehyung asked. They would have to leave by ten in the morning at the latest to go for the photoshoot, and they would most likely come back home late in the evening.
„I think so, yeah..." Namjoon said patiently, loading the dishwasher with the others.
„I'm not going to swim in the ice cold morning hell no-” Yoongi went to grumble. Why would he go swimming when he could be sleeping?
„But Hyung, have you seen Sunny's face? She is so excited!” Hoseok gasped, looking at the older man in disbelief. That would break your heart!
Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes for a little while. Sometimes, he would have to sacrifice his sleep for something—or rather, someone—more important.
„...fine.”
The alpha grumbled, shaking his head as he left to go to his room and shower, already expecting them to rest once again together. You would probably fall asleep during the movie, as he could imagine.
Truly, he loved to rest and nap with you on any occasion. You were naturally sleepy and cuddly, and so the alpha that was able to fall asleep anywhere loved to keep you company while you rested.
Yoongi has truly gone soft for an omega—something he didn't think could ever happen to him.
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#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts#bts a/b/o#bts imagine#bts omegaverse#bts jimin#hybrid bts#bts namjoon#bts ot7#bts jin#bts yoongi#bts hoseok#bts jhope#bts hobi#bts jungkook#bts taehyung#bts v#bts rm#bts suga#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#jeon jungkook#kim taehyung#park jimin#suga#v#rm
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Best left unread
(Alt title: A story at its end)
Loki x reader angst!!!
Tw: Death, angst, probably ooc, violence, description of injury.
((Unedited))
——————————————————————
Perhaps our love belongs in a book, yet its entirety would be a tragedy, that I was the only one not to see.
A book so monotonously sad that you might as well just close it on its first page because you already know its end, my end.
A book best left unread.
——————————————————————
You met him first in youth. A library of all places and a quiet little boy living in a shadow. A boy who did not even need that of which cast it to make him feel inadequate.
Your friendship came in its strangest form, a hand held out to him in silence. It was easy making friends as a child, a mere gesture of acknowledgment was enough to ensure company.
“My name is Loki.”
The quiet words that were the starting pistol to the race of your demise.
Months were spent like that, his quiet nature had made him much reserved. But, you met, day in day out, met until you could read him like an open book, till his careful blunt words became beautiful soft calligraphy. Each chapter a new story to unravel, a new challenge to face and a promise to each other to last the test of time. Time seemed only a villain.
He introduced you to his brother and to his mother. There you met his shadow-caster. The adored Thor, strong and worthy. In his blue eyes, there found no trace of Loki. He was a bare, sterile, glowing hallway and Loki was a cozy library at its end. Their contrast was straining, dilation from the glowing potential of Thor to the self assigned defeat.
So childhood memories consisted of him, of helping him, of stocking his hypothetical shelves full of stories of eachother and their adventures, of calm moments and dreams, of secret escapades, of hope.
You wanted to give him a chance, a chance to relight the flame every child should have. You didn’t care if he destroyed the shelves and burnt your stories if only it would allow his flame to grow stronger.
Naive. You were naive.
————————————————————————
Then you grew, teenage years grew steadily upon you. It was here that the first sign was missed
You didn’t do enough.
He became bitter and resentful despite all the work, his brother soon facing the brunt of his angst. You assumed perhaps it was rivalry, a natural tendency and that his rationality would sink in, that he would become his own person.
The books were what kept you both alive. You kept meeting in that library. Books allowed for you to live hundreds of lives, but the longer you read, the sooner you came to find that no book would allow you to live a future with him.
——————————————————————
"Please.. you can't do this.. you know you shouldn't."
You plead with him, but what does it matter anymore, why should he listen to you. His heart was unreachable, unreadable, how could you ever understand.
He hurt people.
Something broke in the boy from all those years ago, something you could not fix. Although perhaps he loved you, still.
Perhaps he found solace from his thoughts in the place were he was anything but himself.
But it is hard to love another, when you are not yourself.
——————————————————————
The day he destroyed New York, was the day the red could never wash out of his ledger. There was simply too much damage, to the world, to innocents, and to his mind. He was different.
His imprisonment left him dark. The library was no more, but that did not stop you from going to him.
Perhaps it was in a delusion, that he would see error, that he would come back.
But he didn't.
——————————————————————
"Why did you do it..?"
You ask one night, back to the glass, you knew his face well enough, to look at him was to admit he was no longer yours.
"Because I could. Why else?"
He's a liar, a good one, that much is obvious, but that doesn't stop a tear rolling down your cheek. Perhaps he sees, or simply knows, because he does not go on. Perhaps he loved you back, once.
"I'm sorry"
You manage out, refusing to let him hurt you. Instead wanting to hurt him, to be angry, not physically, you have no strength enough to beat him in any duel, but you want to hurt him.
"I'm sorry that I was not enough for you. I'm sorry that you crave such chaos. I'm sorry that I cannot fix you."
Many will learn of Romeo and Juliet. Perhaps ponder the stupidity of it, the monotony of the same reused story, a destiny set in centuries old script.
Death.
You allowed your soul to die for him
Yet morbidity granted a vision. Now it is easier to see, perhaps the concept of destiny is a metaphor, a warning. A lesson to the lovers who were never meant to be.
Shakespeare himself knew your fate and yet you believed somewhere in a selfish heart that you could have him. How childish you were, are, were. The only dagger used was the shard formed by your own actions and his poison was his own dear nature.
For the first time, you allow yourself to debate the possibility that his heart can no longer love amidst such hatred and it stung as an infused knife.
His antidote was his loveless heart, but for you? Perhaps the poison he came to be would have easier to treat then the wounds of a blade, especially one you forged so blindly.
The words likely meant nothing to him, not yet, but they would, you knew they would, because life is cruel. The words line an end of a chapter, a book best left unread, unfinished.
But of course, that is not how books work. There is always an ending.
——————————————————————
Bitterness grew in his absence, something destructive. What was there to be delicate about when all that surrounded you were the reminders of him and his betrayal.
The world fell upon such darkness that there was no net to save from its pull.
If it was chaos he wished for, it was chaos he would get.
It allowed you to wonder as well, does his heart still pain for you as yours does? There was a certain hope, a certain bitterness. Yes.
Because, In this tale of Romeo and Juliet, you were the only one to die. Not quite so literally, but a souls death, one who never asked to become cruel is granted some bitterness.
As the body of your old mind rots and its body caves, in this dark coffin. You pray he thinks of you.
You don't pray to any god, no. But instead pray to an inevitable hell that you'll meet him there. That he is forced to love you for eternity as the monster he’s made, because even still you loved him as the monster he was before.
It would have been a fitting punishment, one should think.
You hurt people, destroyed lives, broke hearts, all for it to come to the end of your home.
There was nothing to fight for anymore, no home to go back to. No tangible thing to place the bitterness anymore.
Something seemed to set in place.. something needed to change.
——————————————————————
Life was hard, with asgard destroyed what life was there to live.
What life but to live among the midgardians, and so that is where you were, living a life, a librarian of all things, a place that so dearly reminded you of the one thing you could not have.
A love not bound by him holding another's affection, but by his selfishness.
A hatred that no love could heal.
——————————————————————
There was no doubt in the signs that he was there, that he would come, watch, perhaps something remembered a childhood, something he lost, perhaps he remembered his blame, his sorrow.
But oh how life was to destroy him.
He was to learn why, why we tell tales. Why stories of morbid tragedy live on.
They live on as warnings.
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Something about a beautiful infinite sky made you feel all the more forgiving as you head laid on a warm lap, glancing up at the face you see whenever you close your eyes.
Or perhaps it was the large shard of shrapnel jutting from your stomach, or the large puddle of blood that began to pool from below your back, staining his legs a foul sickly red.
Perhaps an active war zone was not the best time to share apologies, but it didn't seem to matter, neither of you could say a word.
Your hand reaches up, the blood staining your fingertips, but it hardly matters, he does not care that it leaves harsh prints on his face, he moves to cradle it, to push his face into a warmth that he hasn't felt in years, a warmth that is quickly fading away.
You look, into those eyes, into the world you built together, the shelves of stories, of lives, all seemed to have an end, and end for you both, so why did this have to be the one reality without.
You try to imagine our library, between the shelves and the dust, the ink and the letters, finding the souls that burned in leather bound tomes and scripts. Finding the words that were written but never read, words that told you your end, and end in the land of the lost.
Tears welled in his eyes, but you couldn't focus, he was warm now.. that shouldn't be right, he had never been warm before. Or perhaps, it was that you were colder than him.
For he was your tragedy, a rotten Romeo, but maybe you were just as bad. Perhaps you were the Lady to his Macbeth, perhaps it was a hand crafted tragedy, made by the blood stained hands that now grasp one another in desperation.
Perhaps this union was despised by the very fates three. For together, it seemed to create the greatest tragedy, one that tore a heart and scattered it within centuries old tales, so that he may never hear those names without thinking of us.
He knew, he knew you, he knew this tragedy well.
How ironic it was.
How ironic that you were led there dying, and he was to die soon thereafter.
How convenient it would be that as his throat tightens in sobs he is raised up by it, his feet hanging limply as your head hits the ground.
What had he to fight for?
This was fate.
This was just another story at its end.
#loki#loki laufeyson#angst#marvel angst#marvel#loki x reader#marvel x reader angst#marvel x reader#i apologise in advance#loki x reader angst
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