#by its very nature this fic will be less edited than my others

[vermilionsun]

*Crashes in* Hi there! This is probably the first time I’ve requested something in literal years! But I’m wondering if you can do relationship headcanons with the reader/mc (gn too please 🙏🏼) dating both Kuras and Vere🤭. It can be both sfw and/or nsfw, whatever you like! I just really wanna see what possible messiness that comes of this.

Also thanks for the follow, and glad you enjoyed my lil fics!!🙏🏼☺️🩵🩵🩵

Ahoy! Thank you sm for the req!! Of course, gn! reader + it's extra messy, hehehe

Note 1: There's NSFW under the very obvious line and the the big red letters that read "NSFW" Note 2: The edit of the middle pic is by @todayis-snowy <3

ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ²﹕ ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵒ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵈⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵖⁱᶜ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛᵉʳᵉ ﹠ ᵏᵘʳᵃˢ, ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ ᵃˢᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ/ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ. ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ✌

➢ You’d most likely be caught in the middle (in… more than one ways), trying to maintain balance.

➢ It's like willingly stepping into a minefield and expecting not to get blown up. A recipe for disaster, cooked and baked at why-did-you-think-it-was-a-good-idea degrees. A thunderstorm of past emotions brewing beneath the surface for centuries, ready to unleash its wrath at any moment. You don't mix fire and ice, especially when they come in the form of two ex-lovers who still hold a spark for each other as well as a history of clashing violently.

➢ Both are unapologetic about everything they do

➢ They constantly push each other's buttons. It's like a deadly game of tug-of-war, with neither willing to give an inch. Trying to navigate a relationship with both of them feels like walking on eggshells, never knowing when one wrong move will set off a chain reaction.

➢ Their… love is a force to be reckoned with, a force that could either consume them whole or set them free. But one thing is for certain: it's something that cannot be ignored, no matter how destructive it may be.

➢ That said, spare yourself the trouble and stay out of their way if you can. Unless you want to get caught in the crossfire. And hell, maybe even get burned. But at the end of the day, why the fuck would you not want to involve yourself in their toxic relationship drama?

➢ e̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ i̶f̶ y̶o̶u̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ b̶o̶r̶n̶ c̶u̶r̶s̶e̶d̶, w̶i̶t̶h̶ h̶a̶n̶d̶s̶ y̶o̶u̶ k̶e̶e̶p̶ b̶a̶n̶d̶a̶g̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ h̶i̶d̶e̶ a̶ d̶e̶a̶d̶l̶y̶ s̶e̶c̶r̶e̶t̶:̶ a̶ b̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ o̶f̶ y̶o̶u̶r̶ f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ t̶w̶i̶s̶t̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ m̶i̶n̶d̶s̶ o̶f̶ a̶n̶y̶ h̶u̶m̶a̶n̶ y̶o̶u̶ t̶o̶u̶c̶h̶. J̶u̶s̶t̶ h̶o̶w̶ f̶a̶r̶—

➢ Those aside, they’d actually be pretty loving towards you.

➢ Kuras is the type to shower you with attention in a rather subtle, detached way. Vere, on the other hand, is the type to show his love through grand gestures and extravagant gifts.

➢ Kuras would be a rather protective partner, and would be wary of Vere due to how antagonistic he is towards both him and you.

➢ Both Kuras and Vere are pretty stubborn, so the arguments are nothing less than legendary.

➢ They could go on for hours, with Kuras using his sharp tongue and quick wit to cut down Vere's fiery temper.

➢ They'd argue over the weirdest things—food choices ( and who's the worst cook), who said what in the heat of the moment—the list goes on, really.

➢ Kuras probably has a few secret places where he goes for some alone-time to cool off,come back after an hour or two and pretend like nothing happened, while Vere would probably still want to continue the argument.

➢ Jealous jealous JEALOUS. 

➢ Knowing Kuras' slightly-more-than-necessary possessive nature, Vere'd definitely go out of his way to make him more jealous.

➢ Anything to make him see red.

➢ Openly flirting, teasing or touching you in front of Kuras, showering you with affection just when Kuras has stepped out of the room or go out of his way to spend time with you, deliberately excluding Kuras from the hangouts. He'd be constantly hovering around you and if Kuras does get a chance to be alone with you, Vere just barges into the room and starts acting particularly familiar and affectionate with you.

➢ Kuras'd be careful to keep his cool—despite seething inside—looking at you two with a smile that's too tight to be completely genuine, eyes narrow and jaw clenched. He’d make sure to shower you with extra attention once Vere’s gone.

➢ He knows Vere's doing everything just to rile him up and he's probably making mental lists of ways to k̶i̶l̶l̶ get back at Vere in the future.

➢ He'd probably get very cold and dismissive with Vere—at least, for as long as he could hold out. Kuras is not very good with self-restraint when he's mad.

➢ Kuras is secretly very clingy in a subtle sort of way. He'd probably try and find ways to physically get closer to you more often—sitting next to you, finding excuses to fix your clothes, and standing closer to you than is strictly necessary. He wouldn't be above sulking if you’re not paying him enough attention, either.

➢ Vere would be a lot more affectionate than Kuras, and definitely shameless when it comes to flaunting his interest in you. He'd find every opportunity to touch you—casually draping an arm over your shoulder or hip, holding your hand, pulling you close to his side—anything to make it clear that he's staking his claim on you. He'd also have a habit of stealing kisses whenever you least expect it.

➢ Kuras'd grumble about it being “impolite” and make a show of how upset it makes him, but in truth, he'd get really, really jealous and he doesn’t know of who.

➢ Truth be told, Kuras might come off as cold and distant sometimes, especially in front of others, but you would quickly learn he's just not used to the whole "relationship" thing. Vere, on the other hand, would be much more open. He'd be more willing to flirt and openly call you any pet name under the sun, no matter how cheesy or embarrassing it may sound.

➢ Watch the shock and horror on the two bitter ex’s faces when Vere calls Kuras with a pet name out of habit, only for Kuras to respond with an equally affectionate nickname in return before they both pause, realizing what they have just done.

➢ Kuras is taken aback at first and coughs away the surprise, but a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks at Vere with a newfound warmth in his eyes. Vere, on the other hand, tries to cover up his own shock with a nonchalant shrug and a playful smirk, but his face betrays the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

➢ It will take a while for things start to get better; there would probably be a fair amount of petty back-and-forths before either one ends up actually admitting that they're being an ass, and then they'd be stuck in an awkward limbo where they are technically not fighting, but tneither one knows how to approach the other without starting another disagreement.

➢ They’d still fight and squabble like a married couple on the regular, but they'd also have quiet moments where they tolerate the other's presence, or dare I even say, get along.

➢ *g̶a̶s̶p̶s̶ e̶c̶h̶o̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ t̶h̶e̶ a̶u̶d̶i̶e̶n̶c̶e̶*

➢ In that case, their banter becomes more lighthearted and their interactions more genuine as they slowly let down their guard around each other. The tension that once hung heavy in the air begins to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of comfortability and re-building trust.

➢ As time goes on, they end up having fewer and fewer fights a̶n̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶i̶l̶i̶t̶y̶ t̶o̶ k̶i̶l̶l̶ e̶a̶c̶h̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ g̶o̶e̶s̶ d̶o̶w̶n̶ b̶y̶ a̶ s̶i̶g̶n̶i̶f̶i̶c̶a̶n̶t̶ a̶m̶o̶u̶n̶t̶ though the two of them being as argumentative as they are, there is no way they'd never have a disagreement again—

NSFW

➢ Positions depend on who’s calling the shots… and, my friend, that is a great question.

➢ Vere tends to prefer being on top—and he's not above teasing and provoking you just to see how far he can push you, who is sandwiched in the middle—while Kuras usually ends up on bottom simply because he gets stubborn and doesn't want to give in to Vere's provocativeness.

➢ Kuras would be the more gentle one—he wouldn't rush or be too rough with you, preferring to take things slow and savor the moment, show his affection with every caress, every touch, every kiss…

➢ He’d probably prefer to have you facing him, he'd want to see your expressions; the way your eyes flutter closed when he touches you, the way your lips part when he kisses you etc etc and he’ll most definitely find a way to hold your hands, ‘cause he’s such a romantic at heart and a giant simp.

➢ Vere would be as shameless as possible. His touch would be more demanding and rough, his kisses more urgent and intense.

➢ It'll be no surprise if he ends up having you pinned underneath him with hands on your wrists more than once.

➢ Vere would want to take you from behind; pull you close to him, his arm snaking around your waist to keep you flush against his body, effectively controlling the pace. He'd like to have you straddling his hips so he can hold you in all the right spots and make you shudder and squirm.

➢ A lot more vocal than Kuras—probably a dirty talker, whispering sweet words and praises in your ears, his gaze locking with Kuras' as he explores every inch of your body with his hands and lips, relishing in watching the effect his words have on both of you.

➢ When it comes to the aftercare, both Vere and Kuras are clingy in their own ways.

➢ Vere would pull you into an embrace, tucking your head under his chin as he makes sure to nuzzle you as obnoxiously as possible just to get a rise out of Kuras.

➢ Kuras, on the other hand, would be a bit more subdued, gently wrapping you in his arms, his expression thoughtful and possessive as he pulls you closer to his chest; as if he's worried someone's going to take you away from him.

➢ Vere’s definitely ready for another round shortly after, but thankfully for you, Kuras stops him.

[alexrosekey]

Hermione-centric and HP World Building Expansion edition

A late entry from me. Beware that this list is based on my personal preference. If you don't like the ships, remember the rule - don't like don't read. Ship and let ship!

That being said, it has been a while since the last time I've come up with a rec list. But reccing great fanfics has remained one of my greatest passion. Having decided to fully integrated myself into the Harry Potter fandom again, I'm amazed at how creative and talented the authors of this fandom are. There are a plethora of interesting ideas and premises, with various themes and genres along with inquisitive, thoughtful observation regarding the characters and the world building of Harry Potter.

Without further ado, let's dive in to my submission for today's @hprecfest prompt: fics with over 100k+ words. All the fics below are Hermione-centric (one less than the other two but still), with amazing social commentaries on the HP world and impeccable observation on the magical world, which to me are the best aspect of HP fic.

unsphere the stars by @cocoartistwrites (M, 222,827, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle)

When you can't change time, but you can't go forward, what is left? Hermione learns how to be the protagonist of her own story.

To quote one of the bookmarks: Hermione is more than she ever was. This story is a journey of Hermione to grow, to love and to explore magic and its beauty more than she could ever be. Don't let the pairing deter you, this is no doubt one of the most memorable fanfic reading experience I have in my years of being in fandoms. Hermione and Tom are both portrayed spectacularly and thoughtfully, and the prose are some of the most poetic I've ever seen.

To sum up the whole of my reading experience, I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling for 30 mins after reading the last chapter, completely shell-shocked.

All I could say is, if you want an astounding character arc for Hermione, with in-depth magical system and immersive world building, plus interesting OCs and breathtaking writing, then this fic is definitely for you!

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic.

2. What's Past is Prologue by ABitofWit (E, 244,611, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy)

It's eight years after the war and Hermione Granger has taken a break from her career at the Ministry of Magic to compile an oral history of the conflict. She's interviewed just about everyone she can get her hands on but she wants to be thorough. And that means getting in contact with a very unwilling Lucius Malfoy.

Listen, I know the pairing is weird as fuck. I know, I had my doubt too before reading it. But the raving bookmarks convinced me to give this a chance. And boy, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

This fic is more than just a ship fic, it's about love and what we would do for it, the greyness of life and choices, of redemption and finding one's self worth outside of pre-existing, archaic ideas and values. It's about change and how we're never too old to learn. WPIP is everything I've ever wanted in a fic, emotional, sincere, humorous, gorgeous, sexy, steamy and sweet. Full of heart and soul.

Most of all, the development of and between Hermione and Lucius is so natural and makes a lot of sense, without them being OOC. This fic reminds me that Hermione is not at all flawless (the opposite of the usual Mary-Sue, little-miss-perfect trope that Hermione tends to be portrayed in fics), while successfully humanizes and makes Lucius Malfoy one of the most interesting HP characters in my eyes. (Who would have thought that I've spent years not giving a jot about this guy, only to fall in love with such a mess of a man like him??)

Combine with sharp commentaries and observations on the British Wizarding World, Wizarding politics and a not-canon folder supporting cast, this is no doubt one of the best HP fic, and one of the best fanfic I've ever had the pleasure to read.

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 2: A Comfort Fic and Day 9: A Rare Pair Fic.

3. Six Pomegranate Seeds by Seselt (E, 185,965, no pairing but implied Theodore Nott/Hermione Granger)

At the end, something happened. Hermione clutches at one fraying thread, uncertain whether she is Arachne or Persephone. What she does know is that she will keep fighting to protect her friends even if she must walk a dark path.

Sooo, this is one very weird fic. One of the oddest fics I've ever encoutered, in fact. I've read it twice, one before I read the book series in full, one after I've finished the books. And let me tell you, SPS is a stunning work.

The odd, floating third-person POV, the dry and sharp, straightforward tone of Hermione. Her competency, her compassion despite all the pain and the emotional repression. This is definitely not your usual time travel fix-it fic.

Most of Hermione's work happened in tandem with the 7 books' main storyline. Hermione's soul is put into the body of a young orphan Pureblood heiress. This gives the fic one of the most interesting spin on the Hermione-is-a-pureblood trope.

Through Hermione, we have a closer look into the background and the context of the main events of the books, plus a deeper understanding of the Pureblood society and a much more sympathetic view into the students Slytherin house. All without whitewashing and offsetting the corruption and the effects of the Purebloods and the Slytherins' stuffy, archaic views on not only the young generation of students but also the British Wizarding world.

I lost count of the amount of time I slapped my knees while reading this work the second time whenever I encountered a particularly sharp line of thought/commentary from Hermione in this fic. I'm also amazed at how much work and research the author has put into SPS, particularly in terms of making up tons of new magical theories and the use of exotic and lesser known vocabulary (seriously, if you decide to read this one, prepare a dictionary next to you, or get ready to regularly stop mid reading in order to look up certain words 😆)

*This fic could also be placed under the prompt of Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic.

That being said, thank you for checking out my list! Thank the admins of @hprecfest for holding such a fun activity. Feel free to join in yourself. Happy reading 💋

Day 16: A fic that made you laughed

Day 19: Fic with the hottest smut

Day 22: An unfinished fic (hasn't updated in 10 years or the author stated it has been abandoned)

Day 26: A fic with an ending you can't stop thinking about

[adelaidedrubman]

[ CLEANSE ]  our muses have sex in the bathtub from this prompt list + faith/jenna

notes: *scrambles in on the literal last day of pride month with the faithjen fic i swore i would post before its end* omg hiiiiiiiii hi hii. requested so long ago i won’t leave anyone on the hook for it even by my timeliness standards but. it’s here  wordcount: 4k (almost) even  warnings: NSFW, naturally. soapy boobs and thigh riding and all. bliss and cult stuff mentioned in passing. undertones of passive aggressiveness, less than healthy relationship dynamics, and emotional repression. local woman won’t just tell her girlfriend she smells like shit and she misses her but needs her alone time after work. faith smells like shit trutherism implied. (maybe to the point of unsanitary warning, but not really.) probably chemistry inaccuracies even with the intentional vagueness. prose over dialogue heavy. editing is not my strong suit, nor is conciseness

Jenna didn’t mind the smell of bliss, really. 

At any stage in the production process. 

A floral perfume heavied by its own decay, as the leaves dried. Fruit rotting and baking beneath unforgiving sunlight. 

Antiseptic saturated air that stung Jenna’s nostrils with its chemical burn on the most gentle, tentative inhale as plant matter dissolved. A bite deepened by the dry, earthy crackle of burning leaves, the heavy stench of gas coughed and spit from bunsen burners ignited by unsure, newly trained hands. 

A subtle brine beneath it all as the product was poured and stirred into vats of preservatives to be stowed away, like sea air that had soured. 

She didn’t mind the smell. She really didn’t. If anything she liked it. 

It meant things were rolling along successfully, after all. She particularly liked when she could pick up a note of each individual scent at once. Smoothly blending together, yet as distinct upon inspection as the stages of the process itself. A sign her lab was becoming a well oiled machine. 

No, she didn’t mind the smell of bliss. 

She did, just a bit, mind that it clung. 

That it settled heavy into every fiber of her hair and clothing to follow her. That it managed to find her nose no matter how tightly sealed her mask, the creeping knowledge lurking in the back of her mind that it surely seeped into the soft pink tissue of her lungs as well. 

She sighed at the thought, peeling off the last of her clothing and dropping it into the hamper — one built just for her, and bearing an uncanny resemblance to a biohazard container, with its plastic lining and sealed lid. 

And it might as well be, she thought, soles of her feet adjusting to the lightly glossed grain of the hardwood as she slipped out of her shoes and stepped towards the bathtub. 

Not that she minded that either. 

The mere fact that she had a proper, safety proofed bin to dump her potentially contaminated clothing in was a stark improvement from her former research lab days. As was the fact her laundry would ultimately be left to someone else at the conclusion of her long work day, taken care of by one of the Project members assigned to do their part by washing and returning her clothes. (And far be it for her as a neutral observer to question the group’s organization of labor.) 

Jenna rolled and cracked her neck as she tugged at elastic band and allowed her hair to fall freely, trailing fingers along ends dried and frayed from exposure to the harsh chemical smoke. Another reminder of the unavoidable damage Bliss production did to her body. (But what kind of scientist would she be, if she wasn’t willing to put her own body on the line as readily as anyone else’s?) 

She brushed a hand through her curls, then brought the fingers to her nose, inhaling the lingering scent of latex and disinfectant. She glanced down at her palm, tracing eyes along the powdery residue settled in its creases. 

Very much like her old research lab days, in the way it wore on her body. 

But better in every other sense, really. 

Better in that she was making real progress with her work, not jammed up with red tape. In that her journey from work to home was a short stroll down the hall of the Conversatory’s manor rather than just shy of an hour’s worth of bumper to bumper traffic to creep along all of ten miles. That her home had a deep clawfoot tub to soak the day away in, as opposed to the tiny shower stall of her old studio apartment. 

Yes, superior by every measure she could conceive, she assured herself as she turned the knob of the faucet, mixing a blend of bath oils into the water as steam rose. 

It was its own small bit of chemistry: mixing a concoction that would soothe and moisturize without settling into greasy film, building a sweet and potent perfume that didn’t too closely resemble the honeysuckle nectar of Bliss flowers. 

And a particularly pleasant application of the science, warmth of the water melting the tension from her muscles as she slipped into the tub. 

She sank down, dipped her head back to submerge, splashed water over her face before rising to sit again, droplets trickling down her back. 

She rinsed, repeated the motion. 

A creak of rusted hinges crying out in complaint cut through the soft sloshing of bath water to draw Jenna’s attention towards the opening door, joined by a gentle hum in a slow searching rise and fall, as if attempting to find harmony with the metallic screech. 

Jenna tilted her head to better view her intruder, identity well known to her before her cheek ever pressed against cool porcelain. 

Faith continued humming under her breath, smoothing out the tune with the settling of the door back into its frame at the gentle press of her fingertips, padding footsteps weaving left and right in something of a half dance on her path towards the tub. 

It was Faith’s own way of slowly washing off the day, Jenna thought with an amused smile, the gradual easing out of the public persona into something more organic and relaxed — and no less captivating. 

Faith’s song bubbled into a laugh (muted, not rising with the pitch it did around others) as she bent at the waist to hover over the tub. Jenna met her with a low, flat hum of her own and a wordless nod of acknowledgement. 

Faith held the silence, reaching a hand out to drop dried flower petals to float atop the water. Not Bliss flowers — a collection from their private gardens. A smattering of primroses and poppies. She was well aware of Jenna’s stance on compartmentalizing. That Bliss, however pleasant, was business, the very business she was washing herself of at the end of her shift. 

Basket emptied and set aside, Faith smoothed her skirt to prop herself seated at the edge of the tub. She leaned down to skim her fingers along the water — crowding Jenna’s senses with the syrupy perfume of Bliss that clung to her as she did. A more natural, softer version of the scent, lacking the sharp chemical notes, but familiar enough to wind the tension of work back into Jenna’s muscles nonetheless. 

“You shouldn’t,” Jenna said plainly, gesturing with her eyes to the fingertips cutting ripples through bathwater. “Touch the water directly,” she clarified. “Because of the chemical residue, that is. Miniscule risk of harm, but not absent.” 

Faith pulled back, blinked slowly. Then dropped her head with eyes closed, corners of her mouth stretching outward to allow a full and bright ringing laugh to spill from rosy lips.  

A bit of residue, Jenna thought. 

“From the Bliss, Jenna?”

A nod. “And every ingredient that goes into its production,” she answered, stretching her arms to rest along the sides of the tub. “It’s less dangerous than the sum of its parts, in ways.” 

“There’s nothing I could possibly fear,” Faith dismissed, propping herself on her hands and lifting to spin on the porcelain ledge, draping her legs over the width of the tub with heels propped on the opposite side. “Not from the Bliss. Not from being near you.” 

Jenna sighed, lifting her hand to trail damp, quickly pruning fingertips along the length of the woman’s leg in subtle acquiescence, feeling the small scrapes and caked dirt texturing the skin, signs she’d spent the day hard at work herself. 

It was its own form of exposure risk Faith faced. Working with the end product. Being in the public eye. One Jenna couldn’t as easily mitigate with rigid safety protocol. 

“It’s not about feeling fear or not,” Jenna countered, straightening her spine to sit more upright. Closer, she could smell past the perfume of Bliss to the subtle musk of sunbaked sweat. “It’s a… practical risk analysis. Strict probability.” 

Faith giggled, softening again, but with a practiced dismissiveness all the same. 

“Is that really all you can think about?” Faith questioned, now dipping a foot into the bathwater, flakes of dirt dissolving from the calloused skin to float alongside the petals as she rolled her ankle to stir. “Let’s be more practical by saving time and bathing together, then.” 

“Practical doesn’t always mean efficient,” she answered plainly. “Again, the risk of —” 

Her words were cut off by a sudden splash from Faith dropping her feet to the base of the tub, pulling her dress over her head in the same fluid motion.

Ah. So it was that kind of soft prodding suggestion, the kind Faith gave to signal a foregone conclusion — a particularly unavoidable one, it seemed, given she apparently hadn’t been wearing any underwear beneath her dress.

Jenna sighed. 

“I don’t anticipate it will actually make things faster, either,” Jenna offered, affectionately placing hands at the backs of Faith’s legs to steady her nonetheless. “I think if anything it will lengthen the time we spend —”

“I hope it does,” Faith interrupted, settling atop Jenna’s lap. “I wish this moment could stretch on for eternity,” she said, wrapping arms around Jenna’s neck. “I wish it could last long enough to make up for every second that I’ve missed you.”

With that Faith leaned forward to close the remaining distance — a firm, steady pressure until she was seemingly satisfied Jenna’s lips would remain still, then melting into something more fluid and delicate. 

“I have missed you, Jenna,” Faith parted ever so slightly to whisper against her lips. “I miss you, when we have to spend so much time apart.” 

Well. As far as Jenna was concerned that was as good a qualitative factor for consideration as any, enough for her to stop bothering with explanations in favor of brushing aside the lightly misted curtain of blonde hair to kiss along Faith’s neck, subtle saltiness of dried and rewetted sweat clinging to her tongue. 

But her nose nudging against golden locks also jostled loose a fresh perfume of honeysuckle, thickened by dewdrops of bathwater splashed onto her hair. 

A pleasant smell, but not conducive to the head space Jenna sought — one temporarily, clinically insulated from the Bliss. 

Jenna reached past Faith to lift the handheld showerhead from its brass mount, raking fingers along Faith’s scalp and her head to tilt back with a dreamily defeated sigh, “Well, we should at least be productive about it then, shouldn’t we?”

Faith’s fingers did not seem particularly set on productivity as they stirred to trace the curves of Jenna’s body, brushing featherlight along the dip of her collarbone and down to caress her chest, then seeming to disappear and reappear to tease along her thighs. 

It would be better, to not have to rush it, Jenna thought to herself as she willed her own hands to work lathering shampoo into blonde hair rather than reach towards the places she truly longed to touch. 

She didn’t like to rush anything with Faith. 

She liked to sit with the sensations, savor each unique ache and dizzying jolt of pleasure she stirred inside her. She wished she could do so then and there, forget anything else to spend the rest of the evening basking in her. 

But with the lurking nuisance of a rigid schedule tugging demandingly at her attention, Jenna reluctantly kept her attention focused on bundling a bar of soap into a washcloth to methodically slide along Faith’s body, despite the shiver fingers brushing far too lightly along her inner thigh brought in turn.

Until delicate phantom touch congealed into a more solid pressure, fingers involuntarily squeezing down on the nipple they’d been teasing as Faith tensed and shuddered with Jenna bringing the showerhead’s stream evenly between her legs. 

“Mm,” Jenna intoned in something between an observant hum and an aroused moan. “Enjoying that, are we?” 

Jenna paused just a single heartbeat longer to savor Faith’s shaky sigh of affirmation before angling the showerhead away to rinse the suds clinging to splayed legs instead, then shift upward to continue washing away sticky sweet Bliss to dilute in pooling water. 

Faith shot her an indignant look that in turn quickly faded into pleading, slant of her brow rising to soften its furrow. 

“I was enjoying it,” she answered, an extra breathy huff accompanying the soft ring of her words that Jenna knew meant angry warning no matter how sweetly it was dressed up, the sharp chemical bite beneath the perfume. 

Yes, she recognized it just as easily as she recognized the punishing intent buried in the teasing slide of her fingers, staying spaced at such distance so as to avoid pressing against the places she ached most. 

It was what first attracted Jenna to Faith, that too gentle conniving, as candied as it was calculated. It would be ungrateful, hypocritical to allow herself to feel frustration — to feel anything but admiration — for it now. 

“Well, I certainly don’t intend to keep you from enjoying yourself,” Jenna replied calmly, bending forward to just barely grind herself against Faith’s teasing hand as she set aside the showerhead and squeezed a glob of shampoo into her palm. “But unfortunately I can’t be of much assistance at the moment.”

“But don’t you want to make me feel good?” Faith questioned, pressing a line of kisses to the ridge of Jenna’s jaw, threading the fingers of her free hand into Jenna’s hair. “Don’t you want to —”

“If I only had the time,” Jenna answered, briefly intertwining their fingers in the tangle of her curls as she worked in shampoo. “But I certainly won’t be offended if you use the opportunity to take care of yourself, while we’re together. I’d quite welcome it.” 

“I want you to make me feel good,” Faith amended in sing-song, finding something between arguing with Jenna and expanding on her own statement as she worked her fingers faster, still without allowing them to make proper contact. “I want —”

“A compromise, then?” Jenna replied, sliding her right leg beneath Faith’s so that she straddled the left. “Go ahead,” she said with a flex of her hips to grind upward, coaxing Faith to meet the pace. “Use me as you’d like.”

Faith gave a pouty humph of complaint, breaking into a sharp intake of breath as Jenna placed the hand not busied with working in conditioner at Faith’s hip to guide her along the length of her thigh, angling her knee upward so that the blonde slid down her leg. 

“J-Jenna,” she gasped, loosening the hand in Jenna’s hair to grasp the ledge of the tub, other hand flexing to curl just barely inside Jenna with the same tense of her body. 

Jenna answered with no more than a vague hum, leaning back against cool porcelain to sturdy herself as Faith rocked against her, admiring how drawn out, soft strides slowly exploring the friction offered by Jenna’s thigh gradually grew shorter, more forceful and snappy. 

The rate of the heavy breaths falling against the crook of Jenna’s neck followed a similar pattern, and she indulged herself a moment to slide a thumb along the gentle dip beneath Faith’s lips to feel the heat as she lifted the washcloth to her neck. 

And blessedly, the strokes of Faith’s hand kept pace, giving Jenna just enough stimulation for pleasure to crest in the backdrop as she dutifully continued the task of washing herself. 

A task that was no longer completely unassisted — Faith’s spare hand reached to join Jenna’s as she dragged her washcloth down to her chest, idly caressing and rolling a nipple beneath the now deeply shriveled pads of her fingers, just enough teasing pressure to make warmth flush along Jenna’s skin, mirrored in the hot pitch of Faith’s cheek pressed against hers. 

The water itself felt set to boil — logically, it should have long past grown tepid during their luxuriating soak, but as it sloshed and licked its way up Jenna’s ribs from the force of Faith’s movement it brought nothing but delicious heat she so desperately wanted to sink down into. 

“How much — mm, how much longer, Jenna?” Faith panted out in a plea as melodic as it was breathless, as impatient as it was gentle. “Before you can pay attention to me?” 

“There’s never a moment you don’t hold my attention,” Jenna cooed with a kiss to Faith’s shoulder. “I promise it will be undivided very soon.”

She punctuated the statement by submerging her washcloth to brush between her thighs, taking the opportunity to cover Faith’s hand with her own, guiding it to quicken, increase force. 

Jenna allowed herself one more impractical indulgence — turning and craning her neck to brush her lips against Faith’s as she hiked her free leg to prop atop the tub’s ledge. 

And she admittedly drew out the task of running the washcloth along the length of her leg for longer than was strictly necessary, savoring the gentle vibration of Faith’s eager moans against her mouth, the way the angle drew her tighter around lithe fingers, made her cling to the pleasure from their strokes. 

And the warmth of the water soothed away any tension threatening to settle into her muscles as they clenched harder, the delicate, fluid movement of Faith’s fingers quickly conducting the symphony towards an inevitable crescendo. 

Still, it took more effort than it should have to lower her leg back into the water, pull away from their kiss. 

“I only have one part left to wash, love,” Jenna whispered, ragged and low. “Do you need me to finish things up for you, so I can have my leg back?” 

There was an ‘mmhm’ hummed against Jenna’s jaw as lips kissed up towards the apples of her cheeks. 

“Go on and say it, then. Tell me, in that lovely voice of yours,” Jenna used her last bit of calm patience to press, pulling back to admire the sight of her lover — face flushed to match the primroses petals floating in the water and clinging to her skin, bare chest heaving. “Tell me what you’d like from me.” 

“I want you to touch me,” she said in layers of dreamy sighs like spun sugar melting in the water. She angled her hips towards Jenna as if to direct her attention, gentle suggestion finally sharpening itself into a proper demand. “I want you to make me cum. Now.” 

It was all Jenna needed to appease, bringing her thumb to Faith’s clit without delay and brush aside damp, wispy blonde curls to stroke. 

The perfectly calculated angle at perfectly calculated pressure, the familiar contours of swollen flesh she used to gauge just how near she was to the edge, the expected burn in the expected places of her flexing arm as muscle memory did its work. 

Down to a science.  

Pink flush painting itself in brighter blotches on Faith’s face before crawling down to spread along the slight curve of her chest, the damp glisten of her brow that was fresh beading of sweat rather than bathwater, the telltale ripple of muscles at her middle in racing buildup as the jerks of her hips grew more erratic, the increase of the subtle drumming of her pulse in the the wrists resting atop Jenna’s collarbones as nails dug into her shoulder. 

And there it was — a last gentle coaxing of Jenna’s exacting touch, all it took for her lover to find that long sought release with a surrendering toss back of her head and drawn out gasp, faint twitches of her finish barely detectable reverberating against Jenna’s leg as she rode it out. 

And with the rush of the accomplishment, Jenna felt the need she’d allowed to fall to the backdrop quickly reassert itself, snatching the reins of her rational senses to drive her to grind determinedly against the hand between her legs, the fingers inside her slowly returning to life to resume a light, unsteady stroke, climax weakened tremble only increasing the thrill.

A thrill so strong that pushing herself to her own finish was just as easily done — a well-timed snap forward and downward drag of her hips, the last spark she needed to saturate every hungry nerve ending into overload. 

Her ears burned and whooshed with the sudden rush of blood, so full with pressure it felt as if she’d dipped her head back to submerge in water. It faded, slowly, the heat in her chest flaring to a cool rush of relief as she came down. 

As Jenna began grounding herself back into her body, she found the tightness had eased from her muscles entirely, tension worked away more thoroughly than the longest and most relaxing of soaks in a hot tub could ever grant her. 

Which was quite fortuitous, because with no more internal heat to dominate her senses, she could feel just how much the bathwater had chilled since they had abandoned the pretense of cleaning up. 

A final pleased sigh fell past Jenna’s lips as she shifted the leg Faith straddled to slide beneath her so that she rested between them, giving her final unwashed limb a quick, lazy wipe with the washcloth tightly wadded in her fist, followed by a hurried splash to rinse before she stretched the leg forward and used a toe to pull the plug from the drain. 

Then one last strain of her limbs to reach for the towel hung to the side, pulling Faith in closer as she wrapped it around them. 

“Consider me thoroughly corrected,” Jenna broke the comfortable silence to muse as she pulled slightly back, pressing her forehead against Faith’s. “You proved your point about the value of bathing together.” 

She trailed her gaze down to the subtle, satisfied smile curving along Faith’s lips as she brought the towel to drape over the blonde’s head. 

“Oxytocin, dopamine, norepinephrine,” Jenna recited as she rubbed terry cloth against blonde locks. “And a steady stream of serotonin in the comedown,” she mused, sitting back to blot gently at her own curls. “All chemicals released in the body from orgasm. And that greatly benefit the human brain — improving mood, cognition, and productivity. An efficient use of time, in the end, all things considered.” 

“And is that all?” Faith pressed, the furrow of her brow in would-be hurt betrayed by the delighted twinkle in green eyes. “What about the closeness it brings us? The human connection?” she offered. “Don’t you think there’s something more, something deeper to it than just chemicals?” 

“I failed to state a crucial axiom,” Jenna replied apologetically, lifting Faith’s hand from atop her shoulder and holding it between them. “There’s nothing deeper in the world to me.” 

She brought the hand to her lips, pressing a kiss just above the knuckles. 

“And I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to raise my oxytocin levels as effectively as you.” 

Faith shook her head as if in tired resignation, but Jenna caught the soft upward curve at the corners of her mouth in understanding, vanishing from her field of vision in the same heartbeat as she pulled Jenna back into her, tangling their limbs together and reclining. 

Such a brilliant woman, so perceptive. Such a privilege, to catch those glimpses of incisive, profound understanding she would carefully dress up as she moved through the day with eyes on her, pretense slowly washed away as the world faded to nothing but they two. 

Enough of a marvel that she felt justified in allowing herself to linger, to let the minutes tick away lazing with Faith snuggled at her side. 

Because there really was no one who raised her oxytocin levels quite as effectively. 

No one she’d rather have her brain rewired to facilitate enduring social bonding with, no one she’d rather anoint with every indication of adoring commitment in present sociocultural practice. 

“I love you too, Jenna.” 

More than anything, there was no one she’d rather wash the day off with.

[coffeebanana]

for the director’s cut ask game:

It was hard to recall much aside from how he'd awoken a few hours earlier to find his father's body splayed unnaturally across the floor, his vacant stare somehow still bearing traces of disappointment.

The ambulance had pulled away maybe an hour ago, with no sirens to accompany its departure.

Adrien only realized Ladybug was probably waiting for a response when she grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the present with a gentle squeeze. His stomach swirled. Couldn't she have reached for his other side?

She deserved better than the hand he'd used to destroy his own father.

When he finally managed to look up, he only felt worse seeing the sympathy in her eyes. He quickly looked back to his feet, panic drowning out any response he tried to cobble together in his head.

"Has anyone told you what happened?" she asked.

Adrien almost said no—which would be the truth, technically. Nobody had told him, unless he counted the clarifications Plagg had provided after the fact, details of what occurred after Ladybug and Chat Noir fell victim to Monarch's Akuma. Part of him wondered how Ladybug would tell the story, which parts would she soften or leave out. He wondered what she really thought.

But maybe it was better not to know.

Adrien cleared his throat. "I...ran into Chat Noir outside. He said he had to go, but he told me..." He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper. "I know my father's dead."

It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and the words came out surprisingly clear. It was only afterwards, when they hung in the awkward silence following Ladybug's sharp intake of air, that he felt like they were eating him from the inside out.

Ladybug's grip tightened. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I'm so sorry."

His gut coiled tightly with some unbearable emotion. He tried to think up something else to say, lips parting as he raised his head to look at her. But the second he met her eyes—so wide and blue and sad—speaking was a lost cause.

His lips quivered. A sob clawed its way up his throat, tugging another one up behind it before the first had even broken free. Ladybug's hand rubbed up and down his arm, and that was all the encouragement he needed to finally release the tsunami inside him.

Adrien had killed his own father.

For months he'd been suffering. Adrien had assumed, when Monarch reappeared from his brief hiatus, that he was okay. That the Cataclysm hadn't been fatal. Instead he'd had a front row seat to his demise—to all the times he cried out in pain while cooking breakfast, trying to pretend everything was fine whenever Adrien noticed.

But if it weren't for that Cataclysm, if Monarch's health hadn't been weakened, then the world might have ended a few hours ago, torn apart and rebuilt in his father’s image. With his parents and Nathalie still alive.

Fic link, if anyone's interested: Pull Me From The Embers

This is already long, so I'll put the rest under the cut 😂

Man, okay. I tried to pull up past versions of google docs to see if I had anything interesting there to inspire my commentary but nope. Either I did not rewrite this part 20 billion times, or it simply wasn't immortalized mid-edit. But I did figure out that I wrote this fic in a funky colour scheme, so that's something:

OKAY about the excerpt then. I think this is one example where I'm very proud of like...how naturally I weaved the backstory in without oversharing? Like, I feel like that's something that's always so hard to get right and I definitely trend towards overexplaining. Less is more is SUCH A HARD LESSON TO LEARN ahahaha.

But here like. My slightly more fleshed out idea of what had happened is basically that Monarch's Akuma--whose power is irrelevant because I didn't think about that part--overtook both LB and CN in this. Which is why there's a chunk of the battle Chat doesn't remember here that Plagg filled him in on. And then Monarch was dying so he didn't manage to finish casting the wish, and yeah. But since LB and CN didn't wake up in the same place in the house, they don't know identities still. I imagine they both woke up, realized the place was destroyed, and immediately transformed because they really didn't know if the Akuma was still at large. And then...Adrien probably was alone when he found Gabe's body and just sort of stood there until Ladybug showed up. And Ladybug would have been too busy freaking out to realize how out of it he's been 😭😭😭

The ambulance had pulled away maybe an hour ago, with no sirens to accompany its departure. -- this is a line I was really proud of I think. idk, in my obviously biased opinion i think it conveys what it's supposed to very efficiently.

omg ADRIEN HAS SO MUCH GUILT HERE!!! this is making me want to play with that in one of my post-s5 fics, because I haven't let him piece together after how it went down in canon yet... (there's at least one WIP I have that's gonna touch on it though if i remember correctly)

huh this ask game just feels like a lot of me rambling kjbdfkbj i sincerely hope it's actually interesting LOL

Adrien having complicated feelings about his father's death is MMMMMM SO GOOD though. I could read and write a million versions of that aaaaaaaaah.

On a less serious note, the part where Adrien tells LB that Chat basically just dipped is so funny to me because like. In my mind Marinette absolutely does not question that. Because yeah okay, for one, she's more focused on Adrien, byt FOR TWO, it's absolutely normal and reasonable for her to think Chat just had some normal civilian obligation he had to get back to. He could have just showed up to patrol two days later like "Sorry LB that I didn't say bye after we literally defeated the dude we've been fighting all year! Had to get home for breakfast yk how it is!", and she wold not have questioned it at all. ajbfksdjbf love her <3

uh........i don't think i have anything else to say at this time. But I really enjoyed writing this fic!! ladrien after adrinette's gotten together is something that has become so special to me 💞

thanks for the ask!! 💜

[leafkingofbirds]

Hi again 💜 I wanted to ask, when writing fics of the cursed heart how do you come about when writing kieran? The way you write him matches the way he acts in game and as a writer myself I've been struggling to write fics of my own because of that. 😅 hope you have a blessed day 💜💜💜

Thanks for this!!! That's such a lovely compliment.

I really love character archetypes like Kieran and gravitate towards them and read stories with tragic, powerful, dark, romantic leads like this a lot. Like my favorite book as a kid was Jane Eyre, lol. The big thing is that I LOVE Kieran and spend too much time thinking about him and what more I would like to have seen of him.

I like reading the classics like Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Bronte, Tolkien (especially), as well as current romantasy books, so that helps me fall into that type of speech - though I think I probably just write a generic "flowery old timey speech" for him haha. Also I spend way too much time re-reading and thinking about this story. It got its hooks into me! I haven't really hyper-fixated on another Choices book like that for a long, long time, and still nothing they've done recently has captured my interest.

But, I don't always copy everyone very well! If you notice, I play to my strengths! I don't think I portray people like Radiance or Lustre very well. in fact any characters that don't appear often in my fics, It's because I don't feel confident writing them 😅 If I don't like a character much, I spend less time thinking about them and the kinds of things they would say.

I think I am pretty good in general at just copying speech patterns after I immerse myself in them for a while. My internal monologue starts to mimic those speech patterns after I binge watch a season of Bridgerton, for example! It just so happens that some media lines up pretty well with what I already like writing and reading, so I copy it better. But like, I don't write Queen B fanfic because I can NOT write witty modern one liners like that 😅. I am a classics fan and don't read much modern day stuff. After writing fanfiction over the years to copy characters I have hyper fixations on, practice helps! I'm probably older than the targeted audience of Choices 😅 so keep that in mind too.

Don't forget, you're only seeing the stuff I think is good, haha! I have drafts sitting around that I haven't posted just yet because I can't make them sound right.

But my big advice would be, I guess, to just immerse yourself in the kind of writing you want to do! The more reading you do, the more you get used to the word choice and cadence typical of the genre, until it becomes natural to you. Binge watch shows like Outlander or Game of Thrones or The Witcher until the voice in your head has a British accent (if it doesn't already! 😂) that's what I do. I read love poetry especially for Kieran, too.

I get rusty when I take long breaks from writing, so I go back and play a few chapters to get back into the swing of things; usually after reading again for a while, it helps me "hear" Kieran's voice again. Still, sometimes things I write don't feel natural to me and I have to go back at a later time and edit and tweak. I tinker a lot, and I have others who read my drafts and give me their opinions too.

I hope this helps!

[saint--claire]

Invitation to the Deep  - Term Glossary

Hi Everybody!

I was blown away by people’s interest with Invitation to the Deep, and to continue sharing the love (and because I’m a nerd) I wanted to continue the glossary in a more readable form.  The term definition overviews were really blowing out some of the end notes, so I decided to shuffle everything here, where I can make a nice tidy list.  It’s in alphabetical order per chapter, because to do it any other way would have annoyed me.

As I say in the story, please, please take everything you read with a grain of salt.  The story is fictional, some of the scenarios I put everyone in are blown well outside the bounds of plausibility.  I don’t specialize in diving, much less tec diving, and my marine license has been expired for a good few years.  Someone who has a metric ton of dive experience is J_Bailler, who wrote the outstanding ‘Thermocline’ in 2020, and whose technical experience inspired me to get my hands dirty with this fic.

I won’t continually reblog this post, but I will edit and update it each time I update the story itself, which will contain a link to this. 

**I am apparently now editing this post with the final additions of the story, only to acknowledge that many of us have now had a crash course in imploding submersibles.  I only have two main comments on this - the first being that I originally began writing and later publishing this story early this year, and the second is that the entirety of this story occurs less than a kilometer below sea level.

Chapter 1

FIFO - fly-in-fly-out.  Usually applicable for people working mines, oil rigs, or certain other trade jobs where the site you work on is highly remote.  You might work a 4-on-2-off schedule, which is where you’d fly out and work on site, staying in provided accommodation for 4 weeks, and then you’d fly home for 2 weeks before rinse and repeating.

LKP - last known position.  Think vessels (or submarine pods) lost at sea, or who’ve sent up distress signals before become non-contactable.

Lucet Tenebris - an entirely fictional underwater cave labyrinth set somewhere off the Indian ocean, near Indonesia.

Ring of Fire - Too long to explain in a post.   A very real and not made up geographical feature of the globe.  https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/ring-fire/

VHF - very high frequency (radios used at sea).

Yamaha - in this setting, a boat engine.  Noisy.

Chapter 2

Neoprene - The material wetsuits are made out of, to help people keep insulated and stay warm under water.  

Chapter 3

Fenders - big squishy things you put between ships to stop them damaging each other if they bump together.  Also used to stop boats banging into the wood/metal of marinas.

Chapter 4

Blood bent - a version of a slang term used to refer to decompression sickness (DCS) where pressure changes alter and form bubbles of the gases naturally inside human blood vessels.  DCS can often cause air bubbles to settle in and around major key joints and cause people to bend over in excruciating pain, which is how it got its name, the bends.

Embolism - In diving contexts, a gas embolism or an AGE would usually refer to a bubble of air in the blood.  This is really, really bad - it has the potential to shut off blood supply to major organs including the heart, brain, or lungs.  There’s no short or simple way to explain how they form, put if you look into barotrauma embolisms it’s a fascinating matter.

Equalising ears - Underwater at changing atmospheric pressure, water pressure bends the eardrum inwards.  You equalise this change by a variety of techniques, the same way you might in an aeroplane.  If you keep going deeper and don’t equalise your ears, you run the risk of damaging them or blowing them out completely.  Hurts like a bitch.

External airway - a measure of first aid and emergency resuscitation - if there is risk to an individual’s own airway collapsing or not being able to be maintained in the middle of an emergency scenario, intubation or an external airway implementation will be performed at speed.  An intubation tube is semi-rigid -the aim is that when you’re connected to oxygen, we want full confirmation that the air is traveling down the trachea and into the lungs, not stopping in its tracks because the airway’s collapsed.

Hyperbaric chamber - would suggest searching for a picture.  In a hyperbaric chamber, air pressure is increased higher than normal air pressure so a person’s lungs can pull in more oxygen than they would under normal circumstances.

Chapter 5

Klick - kilometre.

Neoprene ratings - Wetsuits come in varying thickness.  You might see them referred to as a 3:2 or a 5:3 or a 7:5 - this would indicate the material is 7mm thick over the chest and torso, 5mm thick on the arms and legs.  The thicker the material, the warmer you'll be.  The deeper you go, the thicker you'll want it!

Chapter 6

Buoyancy vest - also known as a BCD. It allows you to control your buoyancy in the water, allowing you to easily float on the surface without sinking under all the weight of your gear, and maintain neutral buoyancy while submerged (so you don’t sink further than the depth you are aiming to go to).

Dive computer -  a meter or device used by divers that measure elapsed time and depth during a dive, and use this data to calculate and display an ascent profile which will aim to prevent DCS.  Most will also monitor real-time ambient pressure input, some allow for gas switching during the dive, other features include water temp and compass info.

Gas blending - To dive at the depths of this fictional reef, you can’t just use straight oxygen or atmospheric air.  Gas blending mixes very specific concentrations of a variety of gases to create a breathable component.  It’s very specialised work and you have to undergo highly specialised training to do it.

Tec diving - I’m going to borrow J_Bailler’s explanation and hope she does not mind, which explains it far more concisely than I can.  The key differences between regular recreational scuba diving and tec diving:– scuba divers use air or air mixed with oxygen and generally stay at depths shallower than 40 metres.  Tec divers use various mixed gases to be able to go deeper and to stay there longer.  To breathe pure oxygen at deep depths can kill you.  Technical diving also includes cave diving almost as a default term, because you need advanced training to dive in an enclosed environment that has a ceiling.  In a normal dive, if something goes balls to the wall wrong, at least you can come up, whether you bend your blood or not.  In cave diving...

Trimix - Put simply, trimix is a blended composition of oxygen, helium, and nitrogen, used on deep descents.

Safety stops - planned stops as you reascend from the deep to decompress and allow your blood the chance to off-gas the excess nitrogen forming, and hopefully prevent decompression sickness.

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Cleat - The metal, wooden, or plastic part that protrudes from a jetty that you tie off a boat to.

S&S34 - A fibreglass monohull sailboat, primarily designed for cruising and racing.  For those of you who are interested or know the name, this is the yacht Jessica Watson sailed around the world in, at age 16.  

Hope everyone enjoys reading!  Let me know if there are other terms you’d like to see laid out.

[genevawrenn]

Welcome to the conspiracy 🎗

✨️My name is Geneva Wrenn 🇨🇦

✨️I am twenty-something bisexual 🩷💜💙 genderqueer 💜🤍💚 [fae/they/she]

✨️I enjoy writing fics and original stories, listening to music from all genres, and am a huge nature lover. I have two cats named Tobias and Soren! 😼😺

~~~

👑 CC'S I Follow 🐷

Technoblade, Philza, Tubbo, Foolish, Niki, Seapeekay, RanbooLive, Sneegsnag, Aimsey

Death Family & BOLAS

Missa, Chayanne, Lullah, Sunny, FitMC, Ramon, PacTW, Richas, Cellbit, Roier, Baghera, Etoiles, Pomme, Jaiden, Bobby, Foolish, Leo, Charlie Slimecicle, Mariana, Juana Flippa, Luzu, Quackity

Hermitcraft & Life Series

Etho, BdoubleO100, Mumbo Jumbo, Grian, GoodTimesWithScar, Zombie Cleo, Pearlescent Moon, Geminitay, Tango, ImpulseSV, Skizzleman, Rendog, Iskall85, VintageBeef, Martyn InTheLittleWood

Other fandoms I enjoy

Mass Effect, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon & Story of Seasons, Divinity Original Sin 2, Subnautica, iZombie, White Collar, Supernatural, Fairy Tail, Fullmetal Alchemist, Dragon Prince, Gravity Falls, Eragon, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Mortal Instruments, Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole, Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, Dan & Phil, NateWantsToBattle

~~~

Below I will include a list of my stories. I will do my best to keep it up to date and edit this post as I write new works!

~~~

My AO3!

My Twitter!

All My Links!

Twitch!

“I think Skyblock at its core is the ultimate challenge in resource management. You spawn on a tiny island in an empty universe. All you have is a tree, some supplies and some dirt to stand on. You have to treasure EVERY dirt block, because if one falls into the void, there's no way to replace it and as you carefully navigate your absurd circumstance, you gain a new appreciation for the few things you have as you meticulously use them to their fullest effect. With nothing but some ice, lava and saplings you slowly transform this empty expanse into a world of your very own. Skyblock teaches us that no matter how ridiculous the odds may seem, within us resides the power to overcome these challenges and achieve something beautiful. That one day, we'll look back at where we started and be amazed by how far we've come.”

�� Technoblade

Stories for DSMP Universe

[As a heads up, some of the stories below include Wilbur. I have a full post here about it, I prefer to preserve history and can't bring myself to delete these pieces. Always believe victims!]

01. My Champion [First one shot I ever posted]

02. Youth [Second one shot I ever posted]

03. A White Orchid Broken in the Rain [Rain Duo apology]

04. Nightmare [Benchtrio POV lore retell]

05. Down to Where Forever Lies, Without a Doubt I'm on Your Side [Emerald Duo house arrest rescue then Doomday, non canon]

06. Blinded by Imperfect Form {Eternal Duo wither cult story & apology post-Red Banquet]

07. Oh, Let's Go Back to the Start [Bee Duo, Tubbo mourning his husband and Clingy Duo comfort]

08. I'll Be Right Beside You [SBI alternate ending]

09. And How Can the World Want Me to Change? [Bedrock Bros comfort post-exile]

10. Fate May Fall Down Upon You [Clingy Duo apology post-Doomsday]

11. I Hope I Exist One Day Less [Bee Duo story about their relationship]

12. You're All That I Recognise [Royal Duo, Eret hires Techno to perform a hit on royalty]

13. More Than the Dust That We Can Return to the Ground Again [Butterfly Duo, Tommy & Eret apology]

14. We're on Earth to Break Each Other's Hearts [Crimeboys apology]

15. Shadows of the Mess You Made [Traitor Duo apology while getting drunk on wine at the bottom of L'Manhole]

16. It Was Your Heart on the Line [Prank Duo, Eret offers Fundy the forever home he needed]

17. I'm Only the Monster You Made Me [Non canon ending to DSMP, on hiatus]

18. We're Never Gonna Be the Same as We Have Been Before [Sand Duo story about a sword given to a father to slay his son]

19. We Weren't Just Born to Fade, Our Stories Are Past the Horizon [Eret finishing the Royal Archives, meeting significant people the exhibits are about]

20. Don't Be So Quick to Judge, Rain Havoc From Above [Fireworks Duo, Techno seeks out Tubbo after the firework execution]

21. A Heart That's Full of Nightfall Hanging on Dear Life for First Signs of Daylight [Niki is injured in Doomsday, Eret & Techno help]

22. The Unimaginable Light You Hold Inside [Angel Duo, Tommy flees to Phil's protection after a certain green-themed man escapes from prison]

23. Please, This is Just Too Good to Be Gone [Peer Pressure Duo, alternate ending to Ranboo's story because his teacher was simply too stubborn]

24. I Found Peace in Your Violence [Techno gets injured after Ranboo's final death at the prison, Phil worries for his best friend's life]

25. Another Cog in the Murder Machine [Sand Duo, Phil's son writes a journal addressed to him before his death]

26. Can It Be I'm Not Meant to Play This Part? [Eret & Tubbo apology]

27. Between the Lines of Fear and Blame [Traitor Duo apology]

28. You Were There, Impossibly Alone [Fireworks Duo apology]

29. Can I Handle the Seasons of My Life? [Eret addressing their past self before the Final Control Room]

30. If a Moment is All We Are [Tommy's older brother regrets the blonde's fate]

31. Who is in Control? [Eternal Duo, Red Banquet with a twist of revenge]

32. I'll Be Here Throughout Your Days [Alternate ending of Techno getting the retirement arc he deserves]

33. Lookin' Like a True Survivor, Feelin' Like a Little Kid [Bedrock Bros, Techno rescues Tommy post-exile]

34. I'll Tend to the Flame (You Can Worship the Ashes) [Techno rescuing Phil from house arrest]

35. Before My Wild Eyes (When Will We Finally Breathe?) [Eternal Duo, how Foolish escaped the end of the DSMP, a cycle always repeating]

36. These Little Wonders, These Twists and Turns of Fate [Syndicate Baking AU and fluff]

37. In the End I'm Realizing I Was Never Meant to Fight on My Own [c!Techno returns to the DSMP post-nuke to rescue three young souls who were saved by a selfless Monarch]

Stories for QSMP Universe

01. Breathing Just to Survive, It's Time to Bring Us Back to Life [Phil adopting Chay]

02. And the Walls Kept Tumbling Down in the City That We Love [Phil confronting his son about his past]

03. Our Past Lives Return Onto a Way [Lullah's first adoption before her true home]

04. I Am the Beast That Survived [Phil's reaction to Lullah's first death]

05. Chant the Tales and Legends Told, Strengthened by the Hymns of Old [Phil telling his children about their uncle Techno]

06. If the World Wants You Gone, We Will Fight the World [Lore retell about Phil during the Electoral dinner fight]

07. Fly Along With Me, I Can't Quite Make It Alone [Phil & Quackity comfort]

08. A Drop of Water in an Endless Sea [Lore retell of Charlie Slimecicle's birthday and his confrontation with 'JuanaFlippa']

09. Promise Me This, That You'll Stand by Me Forever [Niki meeting a friend from her past on this new world she just awoke too]

10. The Wise Crow Has Been Fooled (A Cage for a Cage) [Phil learning of his children's disappearance & birdhouse plot]

11. I'll Be Home for Christmas [Death Family & BOLAS celebrate Christmas together]

12. Stay Awhile and Maybe Then You'll See (Different Side of Me) [Hide Duo story about their relationship and the events it endured through]

13. What Impossible Means, a Leap of Faith [Undying Duo, Phil attempts to fly and fails, Lullah fetching her Tio Foolish to help fish the crow from the river]

14. We May Have Lost Our Sanity (We Have Not Lost Our Humanity) [Purgatory team BOLAS lore retell from Phil's POV]

15. One Thing You Leave Behind is How Did You Love [Hide Duo post-Happy Pills and Fit plays guitar]

16. There is Nowhere for You to Hide (The Hunter's Moon is Shinin') [Archivists, Cellbit & Phil discuss Purgatory 1 & 2]

17. The Whispers of a Reckoning Have Kept the Spirits Beckoning [Chayanne receives encouragement from his Tio Techno in his fight with the Ender King possessed Philza]

18. Artificial Stars on Eclipsed Skies [Hide Duo where Pac rescues Fit from Vaccus after being comforted by Phil]

19. You Are a Constant ; Always in the Edges, in the Sky, and That Makes Everything [Death Duo, one year celebration of the adoption of the original eggs]

20. This is Your Chance to Transform (The Moment You Confront the Storm) [Hide Duo fluff post-Vaccus rescue]

21. If There's Ever a Day Where I'm Not There (I'll Always Be With You Anywhere) [Alternate ending for the QSMP children & characters]

22. I Live in His Heart and He Lives in Mine [Alternate Hideduo ending]

23. Never Fade in the Dark (Remember You Will Always Burn as Bright) [Technoblade & Pomme]

24. Wedding Bells and...Explosives? (When You Finally Collide With Emotions You Can't Resist) [Alternate ending Hideduo Wedding]

25. A Phoenix's Ash in Dark Divine [BOLAS Rescue mission mixed with Phil's hardcore lore]

26. The Spaces Between My Fingers Are Right Where Yours Fit Perfectly [Hideduo fluff, a series of dates post-Vaccus rescue]

27. To Evolutionize One Must Crumble at the Seams [Foolish finds out Bad has been repeatedly killing Jaiden during Purgatory and gives into his rage]

28. The Spaces Between My Fingers Are Right Where Yours Fit Perfectly [Post-Vaccus Hideduo go on a series of dates and discuss their forevers]

29. I'm a Star That's Just a Black Hole Now [q!Morning Crew reconciliation & good ending for their characters]

30. In Your Eyes I Am Complete [One year ago from this publishing Pac gifted roses to Fit with Richas's heavy encouragement, so I wrote a fluffy date in honour of it]

Misc. Stories, Universes and AUs

01. Awaking in the Light of All the Stars Aligned [Ghosts & Mediums AU]

02. Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night [Origins SMP]

03. Shine a Light in the Dark, Let Me See Where You Are [SMP Earth]

04. The Future That We've Left to Die [Twinsduo TLOU AU]

05. She shot me in the night. It’s what I would’ve wanted. [Sunship Duo Apocalypse AU]

06. You Make Sure I Always See the Daylight [SBI Cafe AU]

07. Sail With Us, and We'll Show You What It Means to Be Alive [Royal Duo Pirate AU]

08. You Don't Need to Turn Me Away [Traitor Duo Childhood Friends AU]

09. Gentleness in the Absence of Violence (Despite the Abundance of It) [Generation Loss AU]

10. You Took My Broken Melody (Now I Hear a Symphony) [SBI Grocery Store Trip AU]

11. One Bullet in the Chamber [Fireworks Duo Vigilante AU]

12. Everything You Thought You Knew Will Fall Apart (But You'll Be All Right) [SBI Witch AU]

13. You Won't Be Forgotten (Not Again) [Royal Duo Pirates & Sirens AU]

14. Stay With Me, Let's Just Breathe [Crimeboys Apocalypse AU]

15. Star Rosa Isle [Aimsey Stardew Valley AU]

16. No One Will Ever Know the Violence It Took to Become This Gentle [Hideduo Vampire/Hunter AU]

17. When the Waves Turn the Minutes to Hours [Hideduo Navy AU]

18. Breathe in the Air, Don't Be Afraid to Care [Emerald Duo SMP Earth]

19. I Had Been Lost to You, Sunlight (And Flew Like a Moth to You) [Death Duo raising their dragon shifter son, Techno AU]

20. Kick at the Darkness 'Til It Bleeds Daylight [Hideduo Demon & Angel AU with a splash of forbidden love]

21. I Believe It All is Comin' to an End (I Guess We're Gonna Pretend) [Life series!Etho fic, set in secret life about him being protective]

A very personal piece written the day after the news about Technoblade was released and his impact on those he left behind (heavy warning for grief and loss): Dear Technoblade

QSMP Fan ID

When you began watching: Day 1 [Philza POV]

Favourite arc / lore: Birdhouse, Happy Pills [q!Pac], Purgatory, Slimecicle Revenge then Jury, Hardcore Deities, Madagio, Regret

Favourite cubitos: Phil, Fit, Pac, Mike, Tubbo, Foolish, Cellbit, Etoiles, Charlie Slimecicle, Niki, Baghera, Jaiden, Missa, Bagi

Favourite eggs: Chayanne, Tallulah, Ramon, Richas, Empanada, Sunny, Leo, Pepito, Pomme, Juana Flippa, Bobby [I like the rest too <3]

Favourite duos & groups: Phil & Technoblade [Emerald], Phil & Cellbit [Archivists], Phil & Etoiles [Codebreakers], Phil & Fit [Veterans], Phil & Missa [Death], Phil & Foolish [Undying], Fit & Pac [Hideduo], BOLAS, Chayanne & Tallulah [Yin and Yang], Phil & Tubbo [Hardcore], Death Family, Fit & Pac & Mike [Hide and Seek], Pac & Mic [Tazercraft], Tubbo & Phil & Etoiles [Leaders], Tubbo & Pac & Fit [Morning Crew], The Order, The Resistance / Rebellion, Cellbit & Roier [Guapo], Cellbit & Foolish [Foolbit], Cellbit & Baghera [Chainsaw Killers], Tubbo & Etoiles [Crit], Charlie & Quackity [Dap], Foolish & Jaiden [Chaos Twins], Slimecicle & Baghera [Karoke], Badboyhalo & Foolish [Land], Badboyhalo & Phil [Coworker], Slimecicle & Mariana [Misclick], Cellbit & Bagi [Mystery Twins], Pac & Etoiles [Pacman], Jaiden & Roier [Parrot], Foolish & Tina [Star], Tina & Bagi [Teaduo]

[hello-imasalesman]

Saw that you reblogged the ‘shipping meme’, and was curious to ask you about these ones:

1. Jimmy/Gord

2. Bryce/Chad

3. Gord/Vance

4. Derby/Johnny

+ your story with Bif/Derby (how did you start to ship them, etc.), because your works are amazing! 😭❤️

Oh wow anon thank you 😭 by shipping meme i assume the bingo i just posted? i did them all on one and actually got bingo for once, hah

Jimmy/Gord: cute pairing, and I think they’re compatible in a opposites attract way but I’m very much a fan of jimmy kind of dating around and not settling w anyone so not a long term ship in my opinion

Chad/Bryce: LOVE THEM. Love that they’re canon. They’re also sort of a foil to derby and bif in left hand man in that Derby and Bif could have that same sort of caring, mildly secretive but still supportive relationship if Derby was not so constrained by his pursuit of power.

Gord/Vance: I think they can be a neat enemies attract sort of couple, especially given how much Gord loves to slum around. They bond over hair care.

Derby/Johnny: ironic, but I’m not super big into them anymore. Especially since Derby, in canon, is so against ‘slumming it’. Truthfully i just find the themes of Derby and Bif much more compelling than the like enemies to lovers of Derby and Johnny (and prefer Johnny/Peanut for the same reasons). Even them being mortal enemies tbh is less interesting, to me, than say Derby and Tad because Johnny has no real power over Derby. Can he beat up Derby? Sure, but the prep parents have Crabblesnitch in their pocket, and he can get them expelled, or press charges as i always assumed Johnny was 18/19 depending if he got held back or was a December baby. And once they graduate highschool, he has even less power in relation; its just not a fair matchup.

Anyway, i started shipping derby and bif because it was 2007 and I was 13 years old :’) my first ever novel-length fic was them way back on ff.net, and while I’ve played bully in its multiple editions many times throughout the years, last year or so i just… got really nostalgic for it, went through the tags on AO3, and realized there had been no other fics of them since the one i wrote as a kid. So, i wrote something new that I thought was much more fitting for my first big pairing. It’s the themes of leader / right hand man, the secretive nature of it, the way Derby doesn’t really seem to trust anyone half as much as he does bif, all while Derby and Pinky are coerced into this loveless pairing that Derby continues to go along with because it promises him the power and prestige that he thinks is his birthright.

[mlmxreader]

horangi needs more love

[recipe website esque story begins]

getting back into CoD is and has been a fucking nightmare why is everyone so into mediocre white men (sorry lucky) gaz and horangi and farah are right there please love them instead i have decided to take it upon myself to husband the fuck out of all three and this is my horangi madness

[recipe website esque story ends]

You're not invincible (horangi x m!reader, reader gets injured + lectured?)

You're all doomed (damsel in distress!horangi x knight in shining armor!m!reader)

I am the shadow where there once was light (murdered!horangi x vengeant!m!reader)

u get ONE mcd. as a treat. ONE.

okay but, like, you're so right? like, broadly speaking about the fandom itself of course bc tbh I don't engage with it widely and unlikely will again, but; from what I've seen, when it comes to characters who aren't White (Horangi, Gaz and Farah specifically), they're often brushed aside and treated as lesser by the fandom as a whole. I mean, almost every "141 group" piece of media (fanfic, edits, etc) almost always excludes Gaz and replaces him with König. even tho Gaz has a personality.

even tho Gaz is the protagonist of the games. and it goes further than that, bc like w Horangi, the fandom makes him into some "UWU soft boy who needs Königs attention 247 or else he gets upset uwu" stereotype of Korean men. w Farah, there's just... there's so little content about her but it's almost always somehow either demeaning or erasing the fact that she is canonically a Muslim.

and like, if it was just a one off, a sorta "oh, okay, Gaz isn't in this fic but he's in tens of thousands of others", it'd be less prominent, but the fact remains that the COD fandom has a serious issue with race and cannot and DO NOT treat the characters they claim to "love" NEARLY as well or w as much dignity as they do White ones.

like, people won't even do a quick Google search of what Muslims believe before doing HC lists, and will include things that just simply aren't done by most Muslims. (bc ik you remember THAT hc list that we both saw)

it's sickening, like, when a fandom that calls itself a "community" consistently and constantly aligns itself with racist ideology of which is most often on the side of fetishisation when it isn't on blatant erasure, it kinda loses its right to turn around and say that it's "so inclusive" because it's not. it aligns itself with this liberal ideology that, hey, as long as you're NICE about it, you can be racist!

and obviously I'm not Black, Korean or Arab, but it has to be extremely exhausting, dehumanising and demoralising for people who ARE who have just joined the fandom only to find out that it's so drenched in racism that, if you turn around and you call people out for being racist, you're branded as "needing to go outside".

it's disgusting. like, point blank. it's absolutely vile.

and like, it's VERY similar to ao3 in that the MAJORITY of people who are doing these kinds of things are White Women as well, so OF COURSE they always put on the "I'm innocent I swear!!!" White Woman Tears™ when their behaviour is rightfully addressed, and that only ADDS to the toxic and abusive nature of the cod fandom, bc it makes it unsafe for people who aren't White EVEN MORE.

it's just gross. stop it. stop being fucking racist you ghouls.

anyway. rant over.

╰┈➤ ❝ Texas Chainsaw ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ My Knight ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ The Devil of Haddonfield ❞

[castysandthedeep]

animals anon here. thinking about the similarities between quackity in ‘hunger’ and ‘i’m not calling you a liar’, the fact that over the course of hunger’s three chapters i imagine he must have gone through a very similar process of craving and resisting and caving that we’ve now actually seen from his pov. being terrified of what will happen to himself if he gives into his desires, hating himself for just how twisted and violent said desires are—and then ending up giving in, losing that control, losing himself entirely. wilbur is what quackity wants and that, paired with the fact that wilbur knows exactly how to pull him free of his inhibitions, makes quackity’s battle practically impossible. what fucked up guys.

yeah! honestly, i'm not calling you a liar (i have got to find a way to shorten that, this is why i didn't want to make it so long grrr) is the fic i wanted to make when i made hunger wayyy back in december 2021, though i wouldn't realize it until a while later. the connection between them is largely unintentional, but also very obvious. i only really noticed it in the editing stage. hunger is handled with much less precision, since it was my first porn fic and i was more focused on just making shit i thought would be hot, but the pieces are definitely there.

i have a lot of wips on my plate at the moment and i'd really prefer to get some of those knocked out before i start on anything new, but i'm really tempted to revisit wilbur's pov in this context. whether that's in connection with one of these two fics or its own separate thing, it's a good candidate for a new fic if i get a burst of inspiration. i try not to force a fic concept on myself, because if i let it stew for a while, the results are always much better. (which is why ten nights may end up with slower output than i'd like unfortunately)

forcing myself to veer back to your point, i do love the hopelessness of it all so much. it's inevitable that these guys (the hunger and liar versions of them) are going to destroy each other. very greek tragedy of them or whatever. but i'm equally drawn to the idea of something kinder evolving from the ugly mess of their mutual obsession, by virtue of them both being so fixated on their own disaster that they end up wanting to preserve it in some way. (mildly deranged sentence incoming) sort of reminds me of the crater that used to be l'manberg, that at first gets a sheet of glass over it before eventually being removed and covered in green. nature is healing, i guess.

[imabillyami]

To anyone patiently waiting for Chapter 3 of Igytl (and seeing me post other fic, oops): The new chapter is coming & very soon at that. It’s the chapter that started the whole idea for the series and naturally it’s gone through loads of editing to a point where I’m not quite happy with its current state. On top of that I’m dealing with a rather nasty combo of flu and fever that has my head all over the place. This fic is too important to me to settle for anything less than loving what I publish. I simply wanna do it justice. Thanks for understanding <3

[baeshijima]

Hi Sophie!! I hope you're having a good day 🌺🍃 For the fanfic writer asks: 70, 80, 90, 98 ! ☆

fanfic writer game !!

omg hi iryth 🫶 i hope ur having a lovely day as well ><

70. are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

i am. very critical of my writing ;w; if a scene doesnt flow the way i initially wanted/envisioned it to, then i just go down a rabbit hole of how it should be then get annoyed when it doesnt 😭 the editing usually comes throughout the process !! i tend to read back a lot while writing, so if one part doesnt seem right/alters the tone of the text, then i make the necessary changes in that moment !!

that or i edit after its published bc all the mistakes seem to appear once its out for the world to see 🐥

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

sometimes i do, sometimes i dont. i think it just depends on the length of the piece,,, for shorter ones i tend to include symbolism or themes since theres less material, and that usually correlates with either the tone of the fic (e.g. angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc), but for longer pieces it tends to just be included fairly naturally (unless i make mini notes on what to include and where in each segment) ^^

90. do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

i do !! sometimes it comes out in dialogue with the reader if their personality ends up resembling mine in some way, or it comes out in the mini thoughts/lighthearted narratives dotted around the fic !!

98. what don’t you like about your writing style?

it can be kind of clunky,, there are times where i try too hard to fit a certain motif or moment into a fic to the point i refuse to abandon it which ends up affecting that area of the piece. other than that descriptions also kill me bc i tend to be vague and gloss over them more than i would like to admit ;w;

[cravencur]

i think there may be several other camps of people who enjoy, satirize, and lovingly uphold the mantle of My Immortal, and boiling it down to "people making fun of children" does the vast swathe of those people a huge disservice.

i am speaking subjectively, but would wager this probably accounts for a good majority of the people who, well into the year of our lord 2024, remember My Immortal and its hallmarks and al the things that make it such a unique fanwork even almost 20 years after its initial release: we were all that kid, once. we have succinct and often very fond memories of writing (objectively bad) fic, or drawing (objectively bad) fanart, and posting it to share. we have memories of completely unnecessary and often too personal author's notes or dA comments. we remember a different internet all-together where co-sharing pieces of fanwork looked much different than it does today, and My Immortal reminds us of those times.

i laugh at My Immortal not because i'm sitting here steepling my fingers hoping that Tara and Raven are out there somewhere miserable and paying the price for writing bad fic when they were tweens; i laugh when i read (or see memes of) My Immortal because i was, once upon a time, Tara and Raven. i have been the person who uploaded an absolutely horrifically executed, self-indulgent, badly edited, tween-codifying piece of fanmedia for all to see. i have been the person who gothified (in my case) inuyasha or kagome and sold it straight. i read My Immortal and what i really read is a glimpse into my 12yo psyche, and it's delightful.

it's a collective experience for any netizen who has been around long enough to remember: if you grew up as an elder millennial or older, you remember making "cringe" fanmedia. and a lot of the attention given to My Immortal isn't just woefully bashing it as much as it is a collective laugh over a collective experience many of us have had. think of it less laughing "at" Tara and Raven (who, while we have no idea if they're real or not, are well into their 30s now, so the idea that people are "making fun of children" falls a bit flat for me personally, when, if they are real, they either do not care enough to say something about it or are likely laughing with the rest too), and more "with".

i share my shitty inuyasha fanart circa 2003 with my friends. they laugh at it. i laugh at it. it isn't making fun of, it isn't punching down, it isn't bullying; it is just the nature of seeing something objectively bad that is nigh on 20 years old and saying, "wow, that sure was a funny time."

i am not disagreeing some people DO just tear the hell out of My Immortal for whatever reason; but i do disagree with the assertion that anyone who interacts with the fic in a way that isn't just coddling it is a bully, or an abuser, or mocking children. it is not black and white.

Let's entertain for a second that My Immortal is satire.

Who is its satirizing?

Children.

Its making fun of cringe, edgey children's fanfic. Fanfic made for free. Fanfic made for fun. Fanfic made by actually sincere teens and kids who didnt know how to write well yet. But who had the audacity to be cringe.

So what is it? Are people delighting in the collective mockery and bullying of a fanfic made by a 15 year old?

Or is it satire, and people are collectively delighting in the mockery of fanfiction made by children?

Because no matter the situation its punching down and mocking children's cringe fic.

Its created a dark legacy where people collectively mock bad fanfic at public events and think thats super ok.

A good satire punches up. Good satire criticizes politics, success, or broken exploitstive systems. Only bad, in poor taste satire targets the vulnerable and exploits children.

So what are we doing? Celebrating the mockery of children? Or partaking in the mockery of children?

I dont know about you but both are really sad.

[fireolin]

The Wishing Hunt

Killugon Choose Your Own Quest

𝕏𝕏  Chapter 1  𝕏𝕏

Tags: Romance, Adventure, Aged-up Killugon, Fairy Tale AU, Magical AU, Medieval (-ish),  Prince!Gon, Fae!Killua, Witches, Bodyguard, Former Assassin, Treasure Hunters, Mutual Pining, Fake Relationship, Secret Identies, Exploring a New Land, Only One Bed, Caught in a Rainstorm, Love-and-Affection-Starved Killua, Touch-starved Killua, Stranded Together, Picnic on Mountaintop after Perilously Climbing a Mountain, Star-gazing, Killua flirting badly

Rating: T to M (suitable for tumblr)

An experimental fic written to a structure and including your voted choices.  My heartfelt thanks to @autumnxsunflower for beta reading <3

Voting Form: To vote for the next choice (and some of Killua’s fae qualities) use the link at the end of the scene. Link is at the end because the form might contain spoilers.

.

𝕏1𝕏   𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝔹𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝔽𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕟𝕟 

After eight months traversing hostile mountains and swamps as a Ghost Arrow Company guard, Killua Zoldyck’s greatest fantasy (which he would admit to no one) concerned cuddling a soft pillow in the most comfortable bed money could buy at The Wild Fae inn.

It did not bode well for his fantasy that it had poured with rain for two days prior to the Company’s arrival in Sweetwater. Nor that The Wild Fae was the only inn, and Sweetwater the last human outpost, on the border of the fae realm Aiai. Depending on the direction of your journey, the inn was either your first or last haven from the region’s tricks. In the storm, those who’d meant to leave yesterday had stayed, and those who’d planned to arrive tomorrow had battled to get here sooner. The low-raftered dining room was steamy, smoky and noisy with music and shouting. The stench of unwashed bodies and mud overpowered that of the food. 

Still, wedged around a table with his five fellow guards, with his back to a dry stone wall, and having consumed an enormous bowl of salmon stew, he could not complain. The previous occupants had fled at the sight of their weapons and Yuzir’s ogre-shaped bulk. Tomorrow he would leave soon as the rain stopped to finally visit his sisters. An entire moon at leisure before the Company reunited to transport their next precious cargo.

His fellow guards were all dreaming of something too, Killua could tell from their expressions.

“A whole moon,” Inreer said, leaning back, hands behind their head. Each guard was a formidable fighter, with additional expertise. The tall, black-skinned androgyne was the company healer. “I’m going to soak for a week in a hot tub.”

“Can’t think further than a sweet feather bed,” Summer said. Sitting opposite Killua, she slung her arm around her husband, Winter. Their ornate hairstyles marked them as members of the Xau clan. Outside the clan, they were known only by their code names, a tradition Killua suspected evolved out of superstitions (mostly baseless) about staying safe from fae.

Winter leaned into her temple and murmured, “Can’t think further than time alone with you.” 

Ugh. Killua schooled his expression. Eight months of toil, and somehow those two were still on their honeymoon. However, they had gained his respect with their life-saving knowledge of hostile flora and fauna. When Summer kissed Winter on the lips, he looked away and said, “Anyone thinking we’ll get feather beds here tonight is deluded. Even the stables are full to the rafters. We’ll be lucky to share the floor in the commoners’ room.” 

“You’ll be lucky,” Yuzir growled, and sniggered. “I’m not sharing with you again.”

Killua’s face heated. He aimed a murderous glare at Yuzir. “You took up space for two.”

Next to him, Rotha shoved her hands into the centre of the table, forcing Yuzir’s meaty fist to pause its descent. “Have faith. The innkeeper owes ‘Sander a favour.”

“Alissander promised if he can wangle it we’ll have two rooms,” Summer said. “One for Winter and me, one for the rest of you.” 

Killua scowled. “Just because this is The Wild Fae doesn’t mean the innkeepers are. I wouldn’t put faith in their favours.”

Rotha’s lips twitched as she eyed him. “Being fae isn’t the issue. It’s bad luck to break your word to a Promise Keeper.”

“Hmmph.” He supposed she had a point, being their cultural specialist and all, but Summer and Winter were sucking each other’s faces again, and he didn’t feel like replying.

Rotha clapped him on the back. “Hey mate, we’re flush with coin. Let’s find some entertainment till ‘Sander gets back. Come on.”

“Count me out. I’m not gambling.”

“But you always win.” She dragged him up by the sleeve of his tunic. 

“That only leaves fighting,” Yuzir said hopefully, rising to join them.

“No one’s fighting,” said Inreer, following.

“Says you.” Yuzir cracked his knuckles. 

A roar rose from the far corner of the room, followed by laughter and the chink of coin. It wasn’t the first roar they’d heard from there tonight. The crowd had thickened since then, bent on watching something or someone. Admittedly, Killua was curious. He didn’t resist when Rotha led them in that direction through the crowd. An act of kindness, allowing Summer and Winter time alone.

“I’m gambling,” Rotha said. “Lend me your luck.”

He snorted, as if him lending her luck was impossible. Sometimes, like now, he wondered if she’d figured out he was fae. He had his glamours firmly in place, strong enough to fool all but the most powerful of his kind. So far on his journey he hadn’t met another fae as strong as himself, though that could change around here. However Rotha was observant for a human, and they’d spent many moons together. She might have worked it out from his behaviour.                                          

“Just for tonight,” she urged him. “Go on.”

“I only gamble on games of skill that I can read. I’m not lucky.”

She shot him a knowing look. “Don’t you think we’ve worked together long enough for you to trust me?”

“I trust you.” In so far as trust went between the guards. None of them pried into each other’s pasts. If they ever found out about his, they would no longer tolerate him to be near them, especially Rotha who, despite being an efficient dispatcher of criminal heads, had somehow maintained her optimistic love of other people. However, they had all at some point saved each other’s lives. What more trust did they need?

Her gaze was already wandering, only to linger on a petite young woman seated on a high table overlooking the source of the crowd’s commotion. She wore two curly pigtails and a bright red dress. She peered intently through a gap that seemed left especially for her.

“She’s pretty,” Rotha said.

“I wouldn’t rush in,” Killua replied. “I don’t think she’s what she seems.”

“Who here is?” Rotha narrowed her eyes. “What is she then? Can you tell?”

“Not yet.” 

Yuzir snarled gently, causing the men in front of them to turn around, hands on their weapons. The men gave way, and in no time the four Ghost Arrows made it to the front row. Most of the commotion involved laughter and money changing hands over an arm-wrestling competition. A bunch of lanterns hung from the rafters, illuminating the two competitors at the table below.

“A game of skill?” Rotha suggested.

“Wait and see.” In most places, it would be. Close to the border of Aiai, you couldn’t rely on appearances. It was anyone’s guess which competitor would be more able. At first, Killua felt mildly disappointed to see they were ordinary humans: a well-built man in his mid-to-late-twenties versus a heavier-set older man, a seasoned mercenary-type still wearing boiled leather.  But as they wrestled, a smile pushed at Killua’s lips. The younger man wore the sleeves of his eggshell-coloured tunic pushed up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms of which most men would be proud, but they were half the size of his opponent’s. His tendons corded with exertion as he crushed the bigger man’s hand down onto the wooden table. 

Nice. 

The loser cursed. The onlookers grumbled or crowed, depending on how they’d placed their bets. The younger man grinned broadly and sat back. He deserved credit, Killua thought, for having more guile than his appearance suggested. A good way to scam some extra coin if you didn’t mind drawing attention to yourself. 

He examined the winner with more interest. He had light brown skin, dark eyes, and wild-looking, spiky black hair that swept back from his brow. They were all authentic—no shimmer of fae deceit. His clothes were as worn as Killua’s own, but of good quality linen and leather, suggesting that he might be the grown son of some well-to-do merchant. Just visible at his hip, the silver hilt of a dagger gleamed. A small blue jewel glittered on a velvet pillow beside him: his stake.

“Quality,” Killua murmured.

“The jewel or the man?”

“The jewel, you goose.” His face heated unacceptably at the amusement in Rotha’s blue eyes, so he jabbed her hard in the ribs—and winced. He’d forgotten her armoured corset. “They can’t fake that colour with paste.”

The young woman with the pigtails bounced forward and challenged the crowd with her hands on her hips. “Who’s next?” Her eyes paused on Killua and his companions. “Two silvers for a chance to win the sapphire.”

Yuzir stepped forward.

The woman rolled her eyes. “My client is human. No challengers of ogre or giant blood allowed.”

Yuzir growled, but glanced down at the small hand she laid on his stomach and retreated. 

“How do we know the jewel is real?” Rotha asked her.

“Because I vouch for it.”

“And who are you to do that?”

She tossed her pigtails back. “Biscuit Krueger. Ask around if you don’t know my reputation.”

While they’d been talking, another woman, plainly dressed in a black tunic and leggings, had taken the chair opposite the man and pushed her two silver coins across the table. She had dark hair and thick spectacles, a non-magical vision-improving device you could buy in some cities. She looked ordinary, but if she was, she wouldn’t have taken that seat. Her two companions watched indulgently from the side, huge men from some sort of company like the Ghost Arrows, Killua expected. Except maybe their work was less honest. They radiated a faint magical influence that made his skin prickle. 

“I have heard of Biscuit Krueger,” Rotha said near Killua’s ear. “She’s a travelling witch.”

“And?”

Rotha smiled. “She’s talented.”

“There’s something else about her.” 

Rotha was already leaving, heading to the betting table nearby. He wished her luck, but wouldn’t lend her any. It was a hard call to bet which competitor would be stronger, but the witch would have called the woman out if she was going to cheat, Killua was certain. 

His smile grew as he watched the match. As he expected, this time it was harder. Both competitors strained. Sweat beaded the man’s hairline by the time he won; he must have used his full strength. His grin was one of slight relief. He leaned forward and asked the woman something.

She shook her head and left with a glance of regret.

“Damn, I lost ten silver,” Rotha muttered, back beside Killua. “Why don’t you wrestle him next?”

“Wouldn’t be fair.”

“I’ll pay for your entry.”

“No.”

“But it’s a game of skill.”

“Huh. He’s nothing special.” 

Just another misguided fool looking for romantic adventure in Aiai. The man’s eyes sparkled with a challenge as they lit on Killua’s just long enough to set his heart racing. He dropped his gaze a fraction, trying not to be too obviously aware. The man’s mouth was attractively shaped and generous. He had a sudden flash of it covering his own, kissing him like Summer had Winter. The room felt suddenly warmer. 

“But you like him. You haven’t stopped staring.”

He ignored her. 

“You’ll get to hold his hand.”

“Fuck off.”

Rotha chuckled. “Go on. I want my silver back, that’s all.”

“He’s about to get himself trapped in Aiai, and you want me to add to his misfortune.” 

“You owe me a favour, remember? I’m calling it in. After all, we won’t see each other for a month. I might have got myself killed by then.”

“You? Unlikely.” He eyed her sideways. Was this another hint that she knew? But her face remained composed. “Are you sure? You could ask for something far more difficult.”

“I insist.” 

“Fine.” 

He dug two silvers from the purse at his waist, strode forward and placed them on the table. 

𝕏𝕏

(Vote to decide who wins closed at Midnight, Sunday 17 January 2021 EST)

Go to Chapter 2

[starseungs]

➳ written on paper. lmh

pairing: (skz) lee minho x fem!reader

As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after. That was where Minho’s role comes in.

genre/s: fantasy au, storybook/fairytales next generation au, forbidden lovers(ish), angst, fluff, drama in general, a dash of humor, son of the evil queen minho x daughter of snow white reader, kinda ever after high au but with a twist

warning/s: mentions of death (no actual dying), themes of bullying & discrimination (story roles), mentions of cheating (its not minho dw), political(?) corruption & deception, swearing, crying... lots, hyunjin is kinda an asshole for a while im so sorry

wc: 16.6k

note: tysm for the people who took interest in the teaser! i hope this makes the wait worth it <3 also this is my first time writing a fic this long, so feedback would be greatly appreciated^^

2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Legacy Day.

A momentous event where the students of Storybook High pledge to all of the magical world to follow in the same footsteps as their fairytale parents. In this school, the students range from the offspring of protagonists to mere side characters—the sons and daughters of antagonists are here too.

You see, when children of this magical world turn eleven, they are sent to study at Storybook High to learn more about the realm and the stories that led to its establishment. One is expected to complete the full nine-year curriculum and sign the Book of Legends on the first day of eighth grade, sealing their fate forever. This day is called "Legacy Day."

The process of signing one’s fate has been followed for many years. Some were less willing than the others, of course—but at the end of the day, no one had ever dared not to sign. This was greatly influenced by the saying that if you don’t, then your story will disappear along with you. As one would have already guessed, that belief sparked a heated debate about whether it was true or not. After all, there were a lot of fairytale children that despised their so-called "fate".

And that leads us exactly to our current event.

Silence wraps the massive hall as all eyes are fixated on one person standing on top of the tall stage. Tension hung heavily in the air, a result created by seeing who was facing them all. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation, finding your hands clasped while your eyes were glued on Minho—who was nervously staring at the book in front of him. 

Minho was what they could classify as your partner. Not in a romantic way (you suppose), but more so with your stories. As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after. 

That was where Minho’s role comes in.

"I am Minho, son of the Evil Queen. And," he takes a shaky breath. "I pledge..."

Everyone watching is on the tips of their toes. Minho was most well known as the person who hated their fate more than anyone else. He was practically the face of the "rebellious teens," as the others called them, who claimed they would write their own stories instead. Being the son of the Evil Queen—the same person who poisoned your very own mother and got herself locked up inside the mirror prison, his story calls for him to do the same to you. 

Surprisingly, Minho was far from what you would’ve expected as the next Evil King.

From the moment you got your acceptance letter, your parents had already warned you to never befriend Minho. They said that he’d be mean, despicable, a rotten apple, and basically evil as a whole. "Mind your own business in the dorm room, sweetheart," you remember your mother telling you as she smoothed out your dress in the carriage. "Your roommate will be the enemy. I know it sounds scary, but it’s only natural. Both of your fates are tied together. However, do not worry, my love. It’ll be over as soon as possible," she comforted you.

Well, it turns out your parents were very wrong.

Minho was nothing short of sweet and caring. Sure, he was a bit cold at times, but his frosty exterior did not speak for him the same way his heart did at all. He was fun, playful, and easy to get along with. You found yourself forming a friendly dynamic with him sooner than you expected.

"I pledge," Minho visibly gritted his teeth to force out the words he feared for the longest time. Eyes shifting, he looked at you—wordlessly pleading for you to help him escape. But, having nothing much you could do, you could only give him a small smile of encouragement. He had to do this. 

There was no other choice. 

Feeling defeated, he took the quill and stopped below the page. This was it—he’s expected to sign any second now, you thought bitterly. Even if one despised their fate, it was the only way to live in this world. The harsh truth that all of you had to endure.

Yet just when you were about to relax, Minho’s eyes suddenly changed from hesitant to determined. Your eyes automatically widened in horror. As his friend and roommate for the seven years you’ve been at this school, that look was something you knew very well. 

He can’t be thinking of—no way!

"No," he spat out strongly. The crowd collectively gasps at his words. "I’m not signing this bullshit."

In one quick motion, the book was slammed shut. 

The sound of distressed reactions took over the hall as the magic mirrors showcasing the event shattered one by one. Fear quickly spread amongst the mass of people, the emotion emphasized by the now dimming lighting. Your body froze in shock and disbelief at what Minho had just done. This—this can’t be happening, right? 

Your eyes closed instinctively as you shook silently beneath the stage. You two can’t just disappear like this! What on earth was Minho thinking? Sure, you had already signed your story, but without Minho, would it even still exist? Both of your fates are broken now—if there even is one by the end of this.

You hoped the disappearing process would be painless because you really weren’t ready to experience suffering for something you didn’t ask for in the first place. A few seconds passed by as you waited for the inevitable. 

But it never came.

Instead, you found yourself feeling nothing that was out of the ordinary. As you slowly raise your head to look at the situation, your eyes catch sight of Minho’s disapproving ones. In the short minute that you had that small breakdown, he had already stepped off the stage and was now proceeding to head away from the hall. 

The look he gave you made your eyes burn in hot fury. 

Is he serious? Why is he even disappointed? Can he really blame you for getting scared when he’s the one who put both of your lives in danger? You signed the book—you even signed it for him! All in an effort to make sure that both of your stories won’t vanish into thin air.

So what made him betray you like that?

Your clicking heels echoed loudly throughout the hallway as you walked briskly to follow his speedy figure. "Minho!" you called out to him, tone filled with frustration. Luckily, that seemed to halt his steps.

Finally catching up, you stopped just a few meters behind his back. The air was cold and lightly frosted over your warm skin. The once lively corridor was now bleak and seemed very unwelcoming. There was an unspoken hostility felt between you and Minho, as the two of you stood there for a moment—not saying anything. Something you had already expected.

What can you even say after all that?

Minho sighs in exasperation before turning around and facing you. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, refusing to venture to his face, which was carved with torment. You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, but he swatted your hand away gently. "...What do you want?"

You found your mind blanking for a moment after finally getting a better look at him. Minho looked ethereal at that moment, even through the show of his obvious pain. The moonlight suited him, you thought. It framed his whole being in its sparkling glow. 

Nevertheless, it wasn't long until you remembered why you were in front of him in the first place.

"...Why?" you rasped out. All the previous events and emotions begin to flood back, overwhelming you beyond belief. "Why would you do that!?" you shrieked at him. Minho clenched his jaw at your words. 

"You... you could've disappeared! I could've disappeared! What were you thinking—"

"But we didn't!" he yelled back. Your words immediately clumped up and stuck in your throat, unable to get out. "We didn't disappear! So I'm asking you now Y/N, what do you want?" Minho seethed.

What did you want? What else could you possibly want? All you wished for was to live properly and survive. But to achieve that in this world, he had to—

"Sign the book," you pleaded desperately. And even through the hurt gaze he set on you, you continued to try and reason with him.

"Please just sign the book. I'll do anything you want. You want to change your destiny, right? We can make it work! Do you perhaps want a throne? I'll give you mine willingly. You don't have to be thrown into the mirror prison," your voice was becoming shakier by the second from the intensity of the situation. "See? It's not really that hard, Minho! You could still change the events even if you signed the book. I know you're scared to live a life you don’t want, but—"

"When will you understand that it's not about me!?" he cried out.

The sheer amount of emotion in Minho's voice takes you by surprise. It was raw, and undoubtedly broken. His words pierced your heart sharply, and you inwardly winced as you felt the imaginary arrows sink deeper. Through the ache, you forced out a reply, "...Pardon?"

Minho hastily wiped the few tears that managed to escape, and said, "I don’t want a throne, and I'm not scared of going to that prison. In fact, with what they're expecting me to do, I really do deserve it! Just—just like my mother..." 

He's... not? Then why go through all this trouble for a rebellion? He even appears to be willing to poison you—

"But I'm different from her. I don't want to hurt you," he added weakly, "Ever. I could never bring myself to do it, Y/N. And I knew if I signed that damned book, fate would somehow find a way for me to fulfill the story, even against my wishes. And... I can't have that."

"But what about the story now? If it disappears, we—"

"Oh please, Y/N. What are we doing right now, huh? Talking! We didn't disappear like all the legends used to say."

"But we still could!" you stubbornly retorted.

Minho huffed and rolled his eyes, "So what? I'd rather that happen than my story."

The frigid tension that formed between the two of you engulfed the whole space. At this point, you were sure that if someone were to walk in on the two of you, there was a good chance they would end up coughing ice.

"You don't mean that," you warned, glaring at him. "I know well that you aren't implying that you'd rather die than... live?" The words you uttered weighed heavy on your tongue.

He simply shrugged casually in response, "Why not? I have nothing to look forward to in my supposed future anyway. Unlike your kind who get all the happy endings, we're just here to make you guys look good—what? Don't look at me like that. You know damn well it's true," he scoffed venomously. "A lot of us don't even like our stories, but look at how we're forced to do it for you to live happily ever after."

His words set fire inside of you once again. How dare he assume you had it easy too? Maybe on paper it did—you could admit that. You were a protagonist and a royal, after all, destined to have a happy ending and live a lavish life. But you knew that if you closely examined the cards you'd been dealt with, it was far from the ideal storybook ending people made it out to be. You couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

"Do you really think I like my story too?" You questioned him with a wry chuckle. "Do you really think I want to be poisoned? Then get rescued by a prince who, mind you, doesn't even love me! And then say I have to marry him too? It's bad enough Hyunjin openly displays to the public that he doesn't have an ounce of care about my well-being, but he's even shoving it into my face that he already likes someone else! Tell me who in the world wants to be a second choice, let alone be cheated on?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed it." 

His blunt words hit you like a truck. Finally feeling the crash of all the events that happened, you broke out into tears. The moonlight you praised him in earlier now serves as a humiliating reminder of what’s to come. Minho stares at your sobbing face one last time before walking away. 

And all you could think about was how he could be right.

The bustling crowd of the school cafeteria is loud as always—but this time, there was a glaringly obvious tense atmosphere that followed everyone. You couldn’t help but sigh at the troublesome situation. 

It's been a tough week for you in terms of your social life. The number of pitiful looks you've received, as well as "You can get through this," greetings from your fellow peers who played as protagonists, was astounding. On a normal day before, they would never have spared you a single glance unless they needed something. But now, you’ve practically become the center of their conversations.

And even at the very moment, you’ve got all their attention. One would think their stares were due to you wearing something obnoxious—but you were literally just trying to eat. You roll your eyes in annoyance. 

So much for a good lunch.

"Maybe if you weren’t in such a critical situation right now, then they wouldn’t be eyeing you like a display," Seungmin commented from across the table. You threw some grains of rice towards him.

"Or, I don’t know, they could mind their own business?"

"As if that would ever happen," the son of the Queen of Hearts muttered. "They’d rather watch the world explode than pass on drama."

In a way, he was right. Storybook High was not just any normal school—it was also the center of gossip throughout the entire realm. As you were the next generation of citizens, the spotlight currently shines brightly on your generation.

Felix chuckled. "It’s funny to see how different the two sides view you." The reminder of the current unity status of the student body from the next Hansel (his mother is actually Gretel, but Felix’s cousin was a girl, so they agreed to switch) immediately sucked all the remaining life from your body. "The Royals pity you, while the Rebels are curious about where you stand."

The Royals and the Rebels.

Division between the student population had been at an all-time high ever since that little stunt Minho pulled on Legacy Day. What was once a peaceful crowd quickly developed into a dangerous war zone. Granted, the people’s divisions already existed even before the school was founded. The most obvious one was being sorted into "Protagonists," "Antagonists," and "Side Characters." But it looks like with the current rise in rebellion of teens who aren’t satisfied with their fates, a new division has arisen. 

And it worsened with Minho’s refusal to sign his story.

You see, after the both of you left the hall to have your little "chat"—many of those who wanted to write a new destiny for themselves also refused to sign. These people, including Minho himself, are now classified as "Rebels." This placed them on the bad side of the (now called) "Royals", who wanted to follow their predetermined happily ever afters. 

Not everyone opposing the Rebels is actually royalty, but the majority of them are. This was what earned the group's generalized title as "Royals." Although, some of the non-royalty protagonists took advantage of the opportunity to act like one. One of them is Yeri, Goldilocks' daughter—

"Hey Y/N!" You hear a familiar voice call out. Well, speak of the devil. Yeri happily rushes over to your current table, an action Hyunjin clearly did not appreciate. Oh, did you mention you were eating lunch with him? No? Good. He’s not that special anyway.

Deciding to be a decent person, you turned around and greeted the girl, "A pleasant day to you too, Yeri. What can I help you with?" Seungmin and Felix quickly followed up with their pleasantries, while Hyunjin only grunted as his greeting. If this jackass—

"Oh, yes certainly," she chirps joyfully. You kind of envy her personality. For being the next Snow White, you were nowhere near being as positive as your mother. You lightly smiled at Yeri for her to continue, "Well, you see, I’m writing a new scoop for my blog about Legacy Day! Could you be a dear and tell me what you think of what happened?"

Your smile vanishes in a flash.

Is this a joke? Why are they asking you, of all people? It’s either she’s completely clueless or this is a sick way of putting you down. The nerve of them to attempt to humiliate you like this.

Felix tries to intervene, seeing your reaction. "Yeri, actually—"

A sudden mocking laugh rang through your ears, successfully cutting Felix off. "Please, Yeri. You can interview me instead. Let’s leave little Snow White alone, yeah? She’s already dealing with so much!" 

Seungmin didn’t even try to hide his distaste for the new face that entered the scene—a contrast to Hyunjin, who finally cracked a smile for the first time since he sat at the table. 

Of course he would. The voice belonged to the one and only Mina. The daughter of the Swan Princess, now the Swan Queen. 

Just great. What does she want now? You never knew what her problem was. She has always had a personal vendetta against you and is hellbent on making your life as miserable as possible. Not very successful, but bothersome nonetheless. 

Right—she’s also the one dating Hyunjin. The awfully paired Prince Charming to your Snow White.

Your friends used to say that she was just jealous of you. And while there was a good percentage for that to be true, you personally think she’s just a shitty person in general. Her not-so-best reputation among the student body certainly backed that up. Her and Hyunjin suit each other, you thought to yourself. 

"I’m so sorry, Y/N! I swear I didn’t mean to offend you," Yeri quickly apologized. Your head was slowly starting to hurt from all this dramatic nonsense. And unfortunately for you, Hyunjin finally decides to speak up, "Mina is right. Y/N must be having such a hard time, especially knowing her story might not happen anymore."

What the fuck. Is he for real?

Apparently he is, because he chose to leave your group at the table and walk away with the other two girls. Oh—would you look at that. Totally expected of him. You groaned as you rested your head on the lunch table. 

"Why does he even decide to hang around us?" Seungmin scowled at Hyunjin’s retreating figure. "It’s not as if he likes any of us."

You poked at your tray with a spoon, "His parents probably forced him to because of me. Who knows, maybe they’re scary."

Hyunjin was… not necessarily a bad person. In the eyes of other people, he really wasn’t. He had a good reputation amongst your peers (a stark contrast to his girlfriend), and was often called the "ideal prince." Yet, for some reason you can’t understand, he was nothing less than a pain for you and your friends. 

"Until now, I don’t get his issue. You haven’t been treating him half as bad as he does to you," Felix sips on his juice. "Is the idea of kissing you in a casket that nightmare inducing for him? You’re literally the one dying, Y/N."

From the very start, you knew Hyunjin did not like that he was the assigned prince to you. He never explained why though, and you always thought it was because, ironically, he likes apples. You’re honestly surprised he even signed his story! For the longest time, you believed he was going to end up siding with the Rebels.

Well, to be fair, he is still a prince destined for a happy ending—no matter the partner assigned to him. Maybe he also couldn’t give up the luxury. Or like you, believed that he would disappear too. All valid reasons in your book.

Speaking of Rebels, you lifted your head to look at Minho’s direction. You’ve noticed him sitting near the window since lunch started, and the sight of him alone made your heart ache with worry. From what you’ve seen, people have been avoiding him like the plague ever since the Legacy Day incident happened. Aside from when he was with his friends, all others who refused to sign their stories, Minho was seen on his own for the most part.

You were well aware that a lot of Royals had been badmouthing him intensely too. The complete opposite to the pity treatment you’ve been receiving, even though you knew they could care less. And to be honest, it’d be better if they actually acted that way instead.

"Jeez, look over there," Felix whispered. "A Royal table and a Rebel table are arguing."

How amusing. It looks like you really owe Minho an apology. He was right about most of the Royals. One of the only exceptions would probably be your friends and Jisung. He was genuinely worried enough to tell you that he was willing to be your prince instead, if Hyunjin (his best friend, by the way. How that happened, you would never know.) was ever planning on flaking out. You politely declined him, though. Your stories would clash too much. After all, he was the main protagonist of his own story too—being the son of the Frog Prince and all. The poor guy also had a massive hopeless crush on Pinocchio’s daughter.

Back to Minho, the two of you haven’t spoken for the past week. The dorm room both of you shared became too quiet, not a single word being uttered throughout the hours it was occupied. And whenever you did try to talk to him, he would simply ignore you, even leaving the room if it wasn't yet past curfew.

Maybe you should try it now?

"Hey," you tried to get your two friends’ attention, "Should I talk to Minho?"

Seungmin peeled his eyes away from the fight that was occurring a few tables away. "Go for it? You’ve been all mopey and sad for the past week. It’s about time you and him made up." Felix agreed with a short nod.

"Alright, wish me luck."

Deciding to test the waters, you stood up from your seat. The nerves are starting to form, and the words you wanted to say are lost in the sea of your thoughts once again. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself you could do it.

It was just Minho, after all. You two are close friends, right? Even though you’re supposed to be enemies in front of everyone else, of course. Talking to him shouldn’t be this hard. It’s all in your head, Y/N. You can do it.

Now—okay, maybe not.

As soon as you finally get the courage to move, you spot his friends approaching him. It looks like you lost your chance again. He would surely use his friends as an excuse to avoid you. Running your hand through your hair, you backed out of your plan right away and sat down.

Felix snorted, "Too late, huh?"

You’ll just have to talk to him soon.

Minho was not in class.

Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother you too much—but it was currently culinary class. His favorite class out of them all. 

Other students knew of this fact too. And while they used to think it was because he was secretly determined to successfully poison you in the future, you knew that it was just because he genuinely liked cooking. So the mere fact that he wasn’t anywhere to be seen at that moment concerned you greatly.

Chan, your cooking partner for this session, took notice of your fidgety actions. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look really anxious. Is it perhaps because of me?" His question surprised you. 

What? Why would you be—oh. Chan was someone who sided with the rebels. He was good friends with Minho too, the two of them sharing the same sentiment of not wanting to be antagonists in anyone’s lives. You knew being told to be the next Big Bad Wolf hadn't been an easy task for him. And because you're technically a royal, he might be thinking you despise his guts as well.

"Oh, not at all! I’m so sorry... I’m just concerned about Minho," he hums at your answer. Taking out the chopping board, he replies, "Is it because he’s not here? Yeah, I could totally relate to your thought process. Shocked the heck out of me too, actually."

You nod aggressively, "Exactly! He never skips culinary class. There was this one time when he was having such a bad headache, yet still insisted on attending this class for that day."

In general, it was quite unlikely for Minho to skip any classes at all. He was someone who valued education and was very vocal about it. That, and something about not wanting to act like his mother when she was still in school. Minho was determined to be a model student, proving to others that he was nowhere near evil.

"Yeah, it sounds like him alright," Chan says, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe he’s just really tired today." You think carefully about his words.

It was a reasonable guess, but Minho? Too tired to cook? Unheard of! Unless he’s really sick and can’t attend the class because of the health protocols. He seemed okay this morning, though? Sure, you can’t really tell since the both of you haven’t interacted in a while (you should really try talking to him again, it’s been 3 days since the cafeteria attempt), and you only had this class together for this year—

Wait a minute. 

You only shared culinary class with him this year? He—he couldn’t have avoided this class because it was the only class you two had together, right? He wouldn’t go as far as skipping his favorite class just to avoid you?

News flash, Y/N. He totally could. And that’s most likely what happened.

You huffed at the pettiness of the idea. If he doesn’t want you to convince him to sign the book that badly, then you won’t! Like it’d even matter at this point. Too much damage has already been done. 

The look on your face must’ve been clear as day, because you hear Chan sigh from beside you. You flushed in embarrassment. While chopping the carrot, Chan decides to break the silence. "You think he’s avoiding you, huh?" he said, as you gave him a short nod. "Did he tell you that?"

"No, not really," you awkwardly responded. "We—we haven’t been talking."

Chan starts aggressively chopping, "Minho, that idiot. I told him to talk to you!" You stopped steering the soup you two were working on. The volume of his sigh worsened. You couldn’t help but snicker at his obvious stress.

"That guy really," he said, finishing up. "Don’t worry, Y/N. He’ll come around soon. He just needs more time to think."

Time to think... He had a point. Maybe you needed time to think too. 

For the past few days, you’ve been really preoccupied with the relationship between you and Minho, along with the growing suspicion that the Royals were starting to outcast you (their pity phase must be over now). Because of that, you haven’t had the luxury of really thinking about everything. From the events that happened on Legacy Day to figuring out what you actually believed in—there was still a lot to unpack. 

But before you could completely immerse yourself in your mind, panicked squeals diverted your attention to the cooking booth right beside Chan and yours—where two of your classmates were rummaging around in an attempt to stop the boiling pot from spilling over. 

"Uh, hey Chan, can you help?" Changbin, the Mad Hatter’s son, awkwardly calls out. Right beside him was a malfunctioning Jeongin, seemingly under more stress than the former. Chan’s eyes widened, "What did you even do?"

"It was Jeongin’s idea!" Changbin whined to your partner. The mentioned guy protests, "It was clearly a joke! I didn’t think you would actually do it!"

Ah—the son of the Cheshire Cat causes mischief once again.

Groaning, Chan turns to look at you. "Sorry Y/N, can you handle the soup first? I’ll just help them real quick," you give him a thumbs up, "Thanks. Just put the ones I chopped in the pot, then stir until cooked." You did exactly as you were told. While waiting for the soup to cook, you decided to take the opportunity and start what you should’ve done earlier. 

First of all, Legacy Day.

At first, you were terrified that Minho had finalized his stance that he wouldn’t follow his story. All your life, you were led to believe that following one’s destiny was the only way to continue living. You never questioned it as a result—it was quite straightforward anyway. Signing the Book of Legends was a life or death situation. And as a young child, disappearing so early in life was not the most appealing concept.

But that belief was shattered on Legacy Day, along with the magic mirrors that surrounded the hall. You and Minho didn’t fade away. Heck, even Hyunjin didn’t fade away, and he was supposed to be tied to both of your stories too! 

So what does that mean to you?

Simple. Your life was a lie. 

The whole "follow the destiny given to you" was full of crap, and you can’t believe you let yourself be trapped in that mindset for too long. In the first place, you never even wanted to be the next Snow White. No matter how many times your parents made the concept sound appealing, you just never understood the reason why you had to be poisoned and then saved by a prince. With a kiss too? Magic existed here, yes, but was that really enough to get rid of literal poison?

Plus, if the kiss needed to be from true love, then you were damned from the start—there was no way Hyunjin would end up loving you enough for that to work. And you’d really rather not touch his plump lips. If you did, Mina just might stab you in your casket, successfully killing you for a second time in a row.

It’d be "Snow White: Bad Ending" for that one.

If you really thought about it, the only other reason you signed the book was for Minho. Aside from your own life, you cared a lot about his too. Minho was your best friend, your partner, and an overall important person to you. If him living meant you had to throw away your freedom, then so be it. You won’t let Minho vanish from this world wrongfully.

You loved him too much for that.

Love. Certainly, a strong word. You still don’t know what kind of love you held for the son of the Evil Queen exactly, but you knew you did love him. Did he feel the same too? You hoped so. If his words from Legacy Day spoke any truth, then he did care about you a lot. What he did contradicted your survival plan for the both of you, but from his point of view, it was also his way of protecting you and him. 

So then, where do you stand?

It’s—it’s hard to decide at the moment. On one hand, you had the life you were conditioned to have growing up, and on the other hand, it was where you could be free. Saying it was comfort versus your dream would be an understatement. And while you wanted to dream as much as the Rebels did, that life hasn’t been proven to be very stable yet in your eyes.

Maybe you could just wait a bit more to choose. You wanted to talk to Minho first and see what he had to say. But so far—you think you might be on the verge of regretting ever signing your fate.

"Uh... Y/N," Chan said, tapping your shoulder and jolting you out of your thoughts. "The soup might be cooked already."

You gasped, "Oh, right! My bad, Chan." He waved away your apology, "Nah, it’s all good. Just turn the fire off and I’ll plate the soup." He started placing the bowls down.

Glancing over at Changbin and Jeongin’s side, you just now realized they were gone. "What did they go?" you ask. Chan grimaced at his friends’ situation. "Got called by the teacher. They’re probably getting scolded outside." You cringed.

"That’s… unfortunate."

Culinary class ended not long after.

The regret of having signed the book was getting stronger, alright.

Walking down the school corridors, the difference between the Royals and the Rebels suddenly seems more evident to your observing eyes. It was the hour right after the last classes ended, meaning everyone would be gathered in the halls. Students were all leaving classrooms, organizing their lockers, and conversing with friends—something you couldn’t do because Seungmin had choir practice, while Felix was off to the library.

In all your eighteen years of living, never once have you felt as painfully uncomfortable as at this very moment. It was like someone had pulled the blindfold that you had been forced to wear all the way back to when you were still a kid. 

So what was this jarring difference between the two sides, you asked?

The Royals were unapologetically shitting on the Rebels while the latter minded their own business. How surprising, right? And even with people hovering over their backs for the most part, they were still the ones with wide smiles and exciting chatter—meanwhile the opposite side that was too busy pampering themselves, still found the time and need to sneer at any Rebel who passed by. You winced at their actions, genuinely ashamed.

God forbid that you had acted like they did before. Even though you knew you weren’t half as bad as them because of befriending Minho, there was still a big chance you had those moments unconsciously. And you hated that thought. It’s absolutely detestable! Downright vile! The Rebels just wanted their chances of living happily ever after too. What was so wrong with that?

It was at that moment that you realized that the influence ran deep. That there was some sort of ‘worthy’ and ‘not worthy’ mindset that plagued the protagonists’ side of the division—even through the peace that you thought the school had before. As someone who was also exposed to that lifestyle since you were born, you could see where they were coming from, but at the same time, you were highly repulsed by the thought. The list of things you wanted to tell Minho grew longer by the second you stayed in this hallway.

You sped away from the scene, deciding to head to the school balconies. You figured studying with a good view would keep your thoughts at bay for a while. If you spent another minute in the midst of all that, you would probably end up choosing to resign your crown at the next possible moment. And you didn’t want to do something too life-changing impulsively. Turning the corner to reach your destination, the sudden sight caught you off guard. 

It was Hyunjin and Mina. Making out in broad daylight, without shame.

They were hidden by the pillars that stood as support for the entryway of the balconies. But you could still see them very clearly from where you stood. You doubt they could see you, though. Whether it was because you were well hidden, or they were too engrossed in sucking each other's faces—you really didn’t want to know. 

Admittedly, there was a part of you that wanted to earn Hyunjin’s affection. He was to be your husband, after all. It was only natural to want a marriage with love, or at the very least, respect. But out of everything, you could never blame Hyunjin for liking someone else. You even supported him, even if his girlfriend was someone who you could never stand to be in the same room with. Anyone should be able to love who they want to, as well as marry who they want to, responsibly. Not some nonsense book about those who came before you—

Holy shit. Your life is so fucked.

You were the one being told who to love and marry by that book. The one whose life is to be lived and told through a script. The situation you were trapped in had never been clearer than at this very moment, and it crashed on you like that one little pig’s pile of bricks.

Silent tears flowed out of your eyes as you thought of the future. Happily ever after, your ass. You're going to be married to an asshole who can’t even respect you as a prospective wife who’s in the same boat as him, and would rather choose someone else over you! Not to mention, he has to bring you back from the dead first—what if he takes the chance and just leaves you to rot? Where's the happy ending in that?

Through a watery vision, you noticed your sight suddenly dimming as you felt a hand softly wrap around your eyes, blocking your view of the couple. The sudden force caused your back to collide against a strong chest. A sudden action, but you didn’t scream. Because you recognized that scent right away.

"You big baby. If you hate it that much, why’d you sign the book?"

It’s Minho.

God, you missed his voice. It feels like it’s been forever. Feeling the relief of having him close again on top of your devastation for the future, you felt yourself starting to cry harder. He sighed at your tears, deciding to drag you away from the balconies.

"Seriously, Y/N. You have to stop pining after him. It’s not even worth it," he snarkily comments. While messily wiping your tears, you let out a small laugh. "I’m not." You both came to a stop in the middle of an empty corridor.

Finally, he turns to face you. Rolling his eyes playfully, he started wiping the remaining tears from your face. "You are such a big baby," he says, to which you slap his chest lightly, "I’m not!" 

He squished your cheeks in response to your protest. "Look at you, saying the same thing over and over again like a child," he cooed. Slapping his chest more strongly, he coughed out a wail of complaint.

"What? So you're finally deciding to talk to me now?" You glared at him. Those words seemed to get through to Minho, because he started rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly. 

Diverting eye contact, he replies, "Yeah, about that—I’m really sorry." 

You looked at him, not convinced in the slightest. "Did Chan talk to you?" you asked. The guy did say he told Minho to talk to you. Maybe Minho finally took his advice after another round of suggestions.

It turns out the answer to your question looked like a no, because he seemed genuinely confused at what you said. "... No? Why?" 

Shaking your head, you waved him off. But Minho, being Minho, decided to dig deeper into the topic. "Did you two talk about me? What did you say?" he pressed further. Glaring at him, you pushed past him and started walking down the corridor. He trailed you like a lost puppy.

"Y/N, come on," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you both to a halt. The gesture left you absolutely speechless. "What’d you say about me, hm?" he whispered in your ear. 

Feeling steam rushing out of your ears, you immediately pulled away. He laughs at your flustered face. "Why would you—what?" You started rambling more random words, "Minho!"

"Yes, that’s me," he jested. After seeing the amusement on his face, you quickly composed yourself. What is up with him today? Sure, he was normally playful, but not like this! You don’t think this Minho was good for your heart—if the way it was racing indicated anything severe.

Minho crossed his arms, frowning a bit. "Why are you so secretive about it? Did you both talk shit about me?" he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. You shook your head to deny his claim, "Not at all. We just talked about why you weren’t in culinary class earlier." His shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

It's not like you’d ever talk bad about him in the first place.

"Ah that," he started, "I was called to the principal’s office." The revelation has you startled. Why was he called in there? Are they expelling him? No way! They can’t do that! That’s absurd—

At your alarmed reaction, he immediately grabbed your shoulders and assured you, "Hey, hey. It’s not anything bad, I promise, okay?" He waited until you were able to compile your thoughts. You gazed into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. And just as he said, his pretty eyes held no lies.

"Then... why were you called then?" you asked. He visibly cringed at the question. Upon seeing his response, you quickly connected the dots and trapped him in a tight hug. Minho was not someone who made a big deal of most things that happened, so earning this kind of reaction from him could mean one thing: "Did—did they make you talk to her?" 

His head dipping into the crook of your neck weakly was enough to tell you that your assumption had been correct. The school had pulled out the mirror that the Evil Queen was imprisoned in and made him talk to her. This now showed the school’s stance on the issue to you.

They were not taking Minho’s rebellion positively in the slightest. 

Pulling him closer, you comforted him in the same way you’ve done multiple times before. As one would have deduced from seeing this side of Minho, he and his mother did not have a good relationship. She was the face of evil, someone who was truly rotten to the core. Minho wanted to be nothing like her. And he damn made sure of that. Unlike her, Minho was determined to live as a good citizen of the magical world. That alone made him stronger than most of the heroes you knew.

He started shifting in your embrace. You instantly knew he was about to say something. "Y/N, can you answer me seriously?" he asked softly. Nodding, you kept holding him. "Why did you actually sign the book?"

You paused for a moment, thinking about your true answer seriously. The two of you had to have this talk sooner or later. It was the main source of your conflict, the reason for all the days spent avoiding each other. Not addressing it would just be pushing aside the topic until it explodes again. So you prepared yourself for what's to come.

"I didn’t want to lose you."

Your honest words infuriated Minho, "So you’re willing to live a life you don’t want just so I won’t disappear!?" He pulled away from your embrace. You could only look at him with blank eyes. What could you even say to that? Correcting him would not do anything.

Because he was completely right.

"Why are you mad? You’re also the one who refused to sign the book because you would rather die than hurt me," you pointed out the hypocrisy behind his words. "You were so willing to sacrifice yourself so that I could live safely. So why can’t I do that too?"

"Y/N, that’s not the same—"

"I told you we could have still made it work even if we both signed the book. You know that too." 

"You know I can’t—"

"Why?" you whimpered, feeling the dam of your tears starting to break once again. This was way too many mood swings in a day for your liking. You don’t think you could take any more crying after this. "Just like you’re afraid of fate tying you to end up hurting me, I’m scared of it taking you away from me too! So tell me, what exactly is the difference, Minho?"

This got him to think for a second, the gears in his head turning and twisting to make sense of what you had just uttered. And when he finally reached a conclusion, his eyes widened in shock. It looks like you have both finally reached common ground. 

It was his turn to hug you tightly now, frantically apologizing for the way he acted. "You're such an idiot," you muttered into his chest. He simply agreed with you. "I’m sorry too."

"I know. I already forgive you."

"And I’m sorry for Legacy Day. The thought that you could disappear at any moment and I’d never see you again blinded me. I wasn’t even thinking twice about what I was saying at the moment. I—I also didn’t want to go," you sniffled. "It’s just that I really believed that we had to sign to—" 

"You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, I understand now." Minho shushed you. "I was in the wrong too. Emotions just got to the best of me, so I lashed out. I’ve had time to think though, and you just gave me another realization earlier too."

The both of you simply wanted the best for the other in the only way you knew how. Unfortunately, your methods were completely different. But that doesn’t change the fact that all you both wished for was each other's safety, and this was just one big misunderstanding.

"Are we okay now?" You asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

And that was all you needed to hear.

The same night Minho was called to the principal’s office, your parents contacted you through your mirror phone—demanding that you convince Minho to change his mind. You were so tired from the flurry of emotions you went through for the day that you merely responded that you would, not even meaning what you said.

That seemed to please them, though, since they immediately said goodbyes with their usual overly affectionate tone—which, after your big realization, sounded a lot more artificial than you remembered. 

Great. Now you’re even questioning your own parents’ love. 

Your exhausted groan simply received a raised eyebrow from Minho, who was minding his own business at his side of the room. "Looks like you’ll be back to convincing me to be your Evil King again?" he snickered in the background. 

Flopping (not-so-gracefully) on your bed, you let out a whine of annoyance. "No, but I don’t want to deal with them right now."

Minho hums in agreement, "I don’t blame you. Seeing as you cried two times in the span of 30 minutes earlier," his joking tone was not lost on you, however, so you just laughed the comment off.

"Fuck you, really."

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. After directing an eye roll towards him, you stood up to enter the bathroom. "Since when did you curse?" he inquires excitedly, like a kid asking if they could buy something. You reached for the toothpaste, "I actually curse a lot in my mind. I just don’t use it out loud because they told me that it was unbecoming of a princess to do so." He couldn’t see you, but you were making that air quote gesture.

"Use it more around me, it sounds nice."

"It's foul words, Minho," you said, voice muffled by the toothpaste foam, "And I doubt it actually sounds nice." 

When silence was all you got back, you scoffed in annoyance. He was so petty at times. You took a bit more time in the bathroom, doing what was needed for your night routine. Minho hasn’t made a noise for a while now, so you let yourself think he’s knocked out cold. After rinsing your mouth one last time, you get ready to leave the bathroom.

You really should’ve seen what was coming.

"Boo," Minho says, suddenly appearing right beside you. You quickly suppressed the urge to scream in consideration of the rooms right beside yours. Irritated, you yell, "What the hell!" 

Unbeknownst to you, that was his plan all along. 

"Another swear!" Oh, of course he would. You wanted to be mad, but found your anger dissipating instead. The sparkle in his eyes, hearing you curse once again, was too adorable for you to stand.

Minho spent the rest of the night teaching you more swear words. It was unnecessary, but you let him do it. You have been waiting to talk to him for days now—and you surely won’t let this go to waste.

The next couple of days were an absolute nightmare, though. Good things come with a price, you guess. This had to be the world’s way of making you pay back the luck you spent in trying to reconcile with Minho.

Mina has been constantly going after you again, with a passion to humiliate your whole being. Other Royals have been pulling you aside to ask for updates on Minho’s decision to sign the book, to which you only politely smiled at them and left. Oh, if you could only sneer back at them like they’d been doing to him. But with the little restraint you had left, you remembered that most of the student body didn’t actually know you and Minho were good friends (it was Minho’s idea back in second grade—something about you not getting targeted).

And above all that, you had your parents spamming your mirror phone every hour of the day to remind you about the task they gave you. No matter how many times you told them that Minho would not be changing his mind, they kept on insisting.

"No one would say no to you, Y/N! You’re the next Snow White!" your mother states, as if that would change anything at all. Your eye felt the need to twitch as her reminder. "He won’t. Plus, you’re the one who told me not to befriend him. Now you expect him to go along with what I say?" you reasoned.

"This isn’t a yes or no situation, darling. He has to do it."

No he doesn’t.

"Enough, mom. It won’t happen," you tried to keep your tone as respectful as possible. "I have a class soon; let’s talk some other time."

"Applebun—" you hung up the phone.

Gripping the device tightly, you let your locker close with a bang. Multiple eyes turn in your direction. You gave them an apologetic gesture. Shoot—if you don’t control your emotions soon, it’s going to affect you in class. 

"Oh? Did little Snow White just have a tantrum? How disappointing that I missed it," Mina’s shrill voice rang through the halls. Her heels are loudly clicking against the floor, cutting you from your thoughts. She really never misses a beat, huh? It was annoying, but you had to praise her for her consistency.

Pasting on a practiced grin, you faced her. "Good day to you too, Mina. Looks like Hyunjin isn’t with you right now," you commented. "Did he finally get tired of you?"

You fought the urge to snicker as soon as you saw the effect this had on her. With a huff, she replies, "He has something to do right now but will meet me for lunch. Right, did he not tell you? We’re eating lunch together from now on. He doesn’t really want to be seen with you anymore." Oh, a decent insult!

Deciding to keep the retort to yourself, you just shrugged it off nonchalantly. "Good for both of you. Have fun!" you cheerfully responded, before walking past her.

"Wha—you!"

Y/N-1, Mina-0. You mentally counted.

Turning the corner, you spot Minho leaning against the wall, back hunched from silently wheezing. "Seriously," you exhaled, "Why are you suddenly everywhere now?" After finishing his quick laughing fit, he turned to look at you.

"She deserved it," he commented. You stared at him, unamused. "Of course you would think that." You felt a few gazes directed at the two of you. 

Right, this might be an odd sight for them.

If you think about it, what's the point of hiding now? Minho won’t sign his fate, so yours might have been changed. So, does that mean you can be friends in public now too? Should you test it out?

"Y/N, are you alright?" Minho worried.

You eyed your surroundings carefully. This could end up badly if you don’t do it correctly. There was a big chance either that Minho’s reputation could worsen, or the Royals would decide to hate you—ah fuck it. 

They can go cry about it if they want.

Grabbing his hand, you started leading the both of you down the halls. He looked at you in shock, "Wait, what are you doing?" The Royals, who saw your exchange, left their mouths open like a gaping fish. On the other hand, you noticed the Rebels' eyes light up with interest. Minho also spotted this, but before he could say anything else, you dragged him away faster.

"Don’t mind them. Let’s just head to class. It’s culinary."

And while you felt significantly lighter at that moment from the burden of hiding your relationship with Minho being off your shoulders, the consequences followed up soon after. 

By the time the moon said its greetings, your parents had already heard of what happened. Whoever snitched worked fast. But at least you now have the opportunity to tell them the truth about you and Minho.

Your parents’ lectures engulfed the whole room while Minho sat beside you for emotional support. "What are you doing, making friends with the enemy? Do you have any ounce of shame!?" Your father’s booming voice was heard.

Maybe you really don’t have any shame. You were so grateful that they even chose to voice call instead of a video chat—if your parents saw Minho holding your hand beside you whilst glaring at the window in an attempt to still leave respect for them, they would have freaked past no return.

"I knew the school shouldn’t have placed both of you together in one room. Nothing good was ever going to come out of that situation," your mother ranted. Is she really saying that now? She was the one who told you it was natural to be dormmates with Minho back then. Then again, it wasn’t the first time she changed her mind when the result didn't benefit her. 

After a short pause, she spoke up again, "What? So you’re not answering now? Oh, honey! That guy is such a bad influence. How did we let this happen?"

Could they not? They talk as if they’ve already met him!

Feeling Minho give your hand a squeeze, you got the courage to speak up. "...You don’t know him. He’s nothing like his mother, so stop saying that," your unsteady voice spoke. Answering back to your parents was never an easy thing for you to do. "Minho’s a great—uh, friend. He helped me realize that there was so much more than just trapping yourself in a predetermined future. I actually—I don’t even want to be Snow White..."

Your parents were silenced by what you had just said. "What do you mean you don’t want to be Snow White? Why not? Your life is already set for you! You’ll marry Hyunjin too—"

"Hyunjin already has a girlfriend. I’m not sure how you two never knew that, but he doesn’t even like me! Like, at all! Good for you that your pairing worked out well, but I’ve tried for years to get him to respect me even as a friend—but it never happened, and probably never will," you desperately explain.

"At this point, I’d rather marry Minho!"

The person mentioned visibly stiffened up beside you, the hand holding yours tightening. You felt your face flush in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, you blurted out your thoughts carelessly. You hoped this wouldn’t cause a rift in your relationship with him again, because you’re not too sure if you can handle another week of Minho ignoring you.

But you meant what you said. 

That’s right. You would rather marry Minho than some ‘ideal prince’ who can’t even treat you like a decent person.

In fact, married life with Minho doesn’t sound bad at all! If anything, you were actually willing to do it if he agreed. It was something you had considered before—a few years back, when you had a massive crush on him. Perhaps the crush never even went away like you had thought. You might have just gotten used to him to the point that what you felt evolved from just a crush to comfort and trust. Who could blame you, really? He’s kind, fun, knows you well, can cook, and is even handsome. He could easily be one of the top Prince Charmings in this school if given the chance.

"I know you just want the best for me—or even if you don't, I can’t find myself caring anymore. But basically, what I think is best for me is not marrying Hyunjin, or being Snow White," you spoke. "I’m already eighteen. Can I please have the chance to choose for myself? Minho won’t sign the Book of Legends either way, so my story might not even turn out the same."

"Choose your own destiny? You already have a good one—" 

"Honey," your mother interjects, "It's a scary world out there. There will be lots of people who want to hurt you!"

You sigh, "Yes, Mom, I know. And I’ll figure something out along the way. But can’t you stop to think that maybe those same people didn’t have any other choice because they were bound to the fate they signed? They deserved the right to choose who they truly wanted to be too."

There was the sound of shifting from the other line. You knew your parents would be hard to convince, but it was worth a shot. This was for the better. It would be great if they managed to spread awareness to the older generation as well.

"Your father and I will think about it," you hear your mother cough. Hope sparked inside you. "Thank you, Mom."

"Sure, sweetie. Talk to you soon."

The line falls flat after that.

Exhausted from the mental gymnastics you had to perform, you immediately melt into Minho’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, you finally realize that he hasn’t moved an inch since you said you’d rather marry him than your assigned prince. "Minho?" you nudged.

He finally snaps out of the trance he trapped himself in, but chooses to stare at you silently. You tilt your head in confusion and ask, "Are you alright?"

"... Marriage?" he squeaked out. 

Oh. Does he not like the idea of marrying you?

You sulked. Sure, you weren’t exactly what they called wife material. Growing up as royalty meant you had other people to do things for you. However, you also prided yourself on being a quick learner. If Minho wants someone that knows how to do house chores, then you are more than willing to learn!

He must have noticed your mood going down, because he started panicking. "No—I, uh, didn’t mean it... like that," he reasoned, "I was just caught off guard! People don’t really look at me and think that I’d make a good husband, y’know?"

You slapped his arm harshly. He complained almost instantly at the pain.

"You absolute liar! You’d rival Hyunjin’s rank easily if you were classified as a Prince Charming," you huffed in protest. He turns red at the compliment. Feeling accomplished but wanting to mess with him more, you decided to add: "Don’t sign up for Prince classes though."

Offended, he retorts, "Why not? You just told me I’d be a good prince!"

"I want you to be my prince only," you replied in a casual tone.

Minho’s face burned even brighter.

There was definitely a difference in the way the Royals treated you the next day. Word travels fast, but their attitudes switch up faster. It wasn’t like you really cared. Most of them chose to avoid you completely, while some were very vocal about their newfound hatred towards you. 

And as you predicted, Mina was the ringleader of the latter group.

"How interesting, isn’t it, Y/N? Snow White and the Evil King, together?" She approached you at your locker, "Do you have a death wish or something? Or maybe your standards have just fallen so low?"

You didn’t want to waste your words on her, so you preoccupied yourself with fixing your textbooks. It’s no use anyway. Anything you say will just go in one ear and out the other when it comes to her. However, that reaction didn’t seem to satisfy her enough because she poked at you further.

"So we’re right then? Ah, but I must say, you two make such a great couple! Two poor souls who lost their stories. How tragic," you clenched your teeth to avoid accidentally laying a hand on her, because that would just cause unnecessary drama. "You’re still lucky to be alive. I wonder how long it’s going to take before life gives up on both of you—either way, it looks like fate already did."

You slammed your locker closed, making a startling noise. Mina jumped at your actions before quickly composing herself to appear more confident. You’ve had enough of her antics.

"Did anyone ever tell you how annoying your voice is? No? Oh, well. Can you just do us all a favor and shut up? You never even say anything important, so just save your breath for something that’s actually worth it."

"I’m sorry?"

"Not forgiven. But it’s about time you apologized," you sassed. 

Mina’s face flushed with anger. Threateningly raising her arm, she aimed to hit you. "You’re nothing now, Y/N. So learn your place—" you shut your eyes instinctively, waiting for the impact. 

As much as you wanted to fight back physically, you were currently at a major disadvantage with the school now that you’ve exposed your friendship with Minho. They’ve most likely classified you as a threat now too. It was better to take the slap and leave Mina with the bigger accountability to deal with.

You waited for it, but the slap never came.

"Mina, you are so pathetic. Do you know that?" A voice you knew very well spoke. "Have some shame and look at your actions, will you. Is all of it worth it?" You opened your eyes.

"Get your hands off my girl, Minho," Hyunjin arrived growling while trying to get in between the two. Minho released the grip he had on Mina’s arm. Scoffing, he responded, "Now you’re here too? Tell us, won't you, Hyunjin? How long will you keep defending her actions? She’s going to end up severely hurting someone if this continues." Hyunjin started shifting uncomfortably. 

He should know better than to let this continue. Mina isn’t a notorious bully, but she should learn to be more responsible for her actions. Sooner or later, her attitude might be her greatest downfall. Mina glared hotly at Minho, absolutely livid. 

In the midst of the two’s humiliation, you noticed a crowd around the four of you. You were glad to know that they have nothing else to do than eavesdrop on any kind of drama. But before you could speak out to the impromptu audience, a blinding flash suddenly stole all the attention. You spotted Yeri standing in the front of the group, shaking with wide eyes while holding her mirror phone up.

Did she just take a photo?

Quickly realizing the situation, Hyunjin dragged a still fuming Mina away. Minho noticed this and yelled, "Get back here!" You quickly pull him back before he ends up chasing after them. "What—Y/N!"

"Leave it."

"What do you mean leave it—no? They’ve crossed so many lines," he seethed in anger. Seeing the crowd still present, you decide to escape as well. "We’ll deal with it some other time. But first, let’s get out of here."

You found yourself dragging Minho down the hall again like yesterday. Only this time, he was burning with fury. It wasn’t always that you got to witness him being this mad. Normally, he calms down faster than he becomes agitated. You were embarrassed to admit that you found Minho's rage attractive.

The two of you entered the lawns of the school garden, where you decided to stop and let him cool down. Minho was still huffing in quiet anger at the two schoolmates you encountered earlier.

"Stop frowning," you said, pinching his cheeks. Minho growls, not appreciating the gesture. It looks like he’s still in a bad mood. Not wanting to make it worse, you slowly let go of him.

Turns out he did not like that, though, because he quickly catches one of your hands and presses it back to the side of his face. "Why did you not fight back? You handled her so well before." The gesture made your heart swell.

"If my parents are now aware that we’re not actually on bad terms, then the school must be too," you sighed, "Adding the fact that I’ve already told them I don’t want to follow my story, if things escalated to the point where we had to be called in earlier, they’re definitely going to side with Mina."

"Is this about me again? You signed the book; it was me who didn’t—"

"I regret it."

Minho spluttered at your words, "Wait, what?" You avoided his surprised eyes. This was something you hadn’t told him yet. Well, anyone yet—you only came to the conclusion last night while talking to your parents.

"I know you said you didn’t want to be Snow White, but you never said you regretted signing," he says. You hugged your arms, "I never said I really wanted to either. It was just something I thought was a necessity. But now that it’s been proven the whole sign or die thing was a big hoax, I wish I hadn’t."

You looked at Minho, greatly troubled. "Honestly? I’m scared. I know I’ve been saying that since you won’t sign anyway, my story won’t happen the way it was supposed to—but just like everything else, we don’t know if that’s even true too," you bit your lip in distress, "What if fate just replaces your role with another person? Did I really trap myself in a scripted future?"

All the flaws in your previous plan started to surface without mercy. It could work in another timeline, one where Minho had signed the book. But seeing that he hasn’t, what happens to you now? Would the legacy just adjust and take Minho out of it completely? Is that what they actually meant by your story disappearing?

Will you somehow end up forgetting Minho?

The mere thought of that alone terrorizes you. A life without Minho would be meaningless by your standards. He was the person who brought color to your monochrome life of royalty and bettered you as a person. Forgetting him would be equivalent to going back to that way of living.

"Y/N," Minho called out softly. The sea of your thoughts were raging with all sorts of negativity, making his heart ache for you. "Like you said, we’ll find a way even if you sealed your fate, okay? I’ll be here with you every step of the way."

"But what if—"

"None of that," he said firmly. "I’m not leaving you alone, whether you like it or not."

You exhaled, trying to calm yourself. He’s right. The two of you can still be together if you really want to. Fate can just suck it up and deal with it. 

Fuck being Snow White anyways.

"I hate apples," you grumbled. Minho laughs at your remark, knowing exactly what you meant. "I know. So you don’t have to be Snow White around me," he cups your face gently.

"Just be my Y/N."

"What do you mean the Book of Legends was stolen!?" A loud yell full of disbelief was heard throughout the entire cafeteria. The whole area went dead silent faster than the prideful hare. You stopped scooping up your food midway, watching as Seungmin and Felix both look at each other with wide eyes.

What?

"Changbin, seriously!" Jeongin’s mortified voice echoed in the quiet room. The students were all frozen in their respective spots, trying to process the information that had just dropped on them. What was supposed to be a normal lunch suddenly transformed into a time of anxiety.

"... Are you for real?" Someone asked the two troublemakers. "This isn’t another prank, right? Cause that’s not a good thing to joke about," they said icily.

The Book of Legends is missing? What madman would have the courage to do such a risky thing? That book is the center of this world—a relic if one must say. To harm it would most likely result in a mass extinction of people!

A crash was heard a few meters from where you sat. Someone had fainted and knocked the whole table over. Multiple people were trying to help the unconscious student out of the mess.

"I—uh, well..." Jeongin started. All eyes were on the guy as he stood there, fidgeting nervously. Deciding to get it over with, he cleared his throat and continued, "I was passing by the Principal’s office and overheard it..."

Cue chaos.

Murmurs of panic covered the whole cafeteria. Everyone was worried about what could possibly happen if the book was ever in the wrong hands. 

It was a powerful object that could change lives in an instant. Fate and legacy are strong concepts in this world, after all. They're literally the foundation of your society.

"Is this really happening?" Felix said, looking very queasy. Seungmin scooted away from him instantly. "Control yourself, Felix. You don’t want to puke right now."

"Who could have done it?" You thought out loud, "And why? There’s nothing to gain from taking the book, right? Unless you’re a psychopath who wants to destroy the world."

Seungmin looks at you appalled. "Why are you thinking about mass murder?" 

"I don’t know! There’s literally no other reason to steal the book! It’s not as if you can erase the signatures of those who... signed…" A realization hit the three of you.

Felix gasped in shock. "Is that even possible?" He questioned. Seungmin considered the idea. "There’s magic here, Felix. Technically, anything is possible."

"But the worst thing is that it might not even stop there," he added. "There may be a loophole in which you can sign another person’s story and make it yours." The idea concerned you heavily.

Could that actually happen? So then what would happen to the ones who got their original story stolen? Wait, if this is allowed, then that would make the entire concept of having a story assigned at birth useless—you could literally just pick one to sign at Legacy Day!

There must be more to this than you originally thought. And it wasn’t looking too good. "It’s not lining up," you muttered. 

"What isn’t?"

"The Book of Legends," you lowered your voice, "I’ve never thought of it like that before, but you might be onto something Seungmin."

Felix gave you a confused look. "Like he said, it really is technically possible for someone to follow another story than theirs. If that’s a thing, then why have an assigned destiny for each one of us in the first place?" You pointed it out to them.

The two were startled by the revelation. You were right. There would be absolutely no need for an assigned fate if anyone could just choose what they wanted—heck, the Book of Legends might not even be needed at all. 

The right to choose what future they wanted for themselves has been the main thing the Rebels fought for, and knowing the school was against it (basing off the actions they took against Minho), the same place the Book of Legends was kept and handled, what could this mean for the truth?

The pressing question now is: what exactly is the Book of Legends, and why are we told to follow only those stories that are in the book?

"This is making me doubt everything," Seungmin mumbles. You gulped as you looked at the still fear-stricken cafeteria.

"You should."

Later that night, you found yourself unable to sleep due to the plaguing thoughts from events that unfolded earlier. There had to be an explanation for all this, you thought. 

The white ceiling on your side of the room looked very interesting to you at that moment. It was also very useful, seeing as you could make an imaginary conspiracy board on it. You don’t know what time it was currently, but you found yourself unable to care.

A messy rustling of sheets was heard over on Minho’s side of the room. You decided to look over in mere curiosity. Like you, he was also comfortably tucked in bed, staring at the ceiling. It looks like both of you can’t sleep.

"A lot on your mind?" He starts the conversation. You nod against your plush pillows. "Thinking about lunch earlier this day..." Minho hummed at your answer.

"Care to share?"

"I don’t know… I’m not too sure about it yet. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do me any good," you sighed, exhausted from thinking. You wanted to avoid spreading something that was untrue—and to do that, there were a lot of things you still had to consider carefully. There were sounds of movement coming from Minho’s location. "Do you want to take a breather? You might drown in those thoughts again."

You sat up, glancing over at him. There he was, pulling a warm hoodie over his head. "Where are you going?" 

"We. Where are we going," he walks over and throws another hoodie at you. It smelled nice. The scent was from the same soap he used to wash his clothes. You caught yourself smiling unconsciously. Pulling you up from your bed, he grins at you.

"We’re going out."

And that's how you found yourself sliding down a sturdy rope from your dorm balcony to the ground below.

Curfew had already commenced a couple hours ago, which only really hit you once you saw the unfiltered darkness of the night. You could clearly hear the crickets loudly chirping around you—something you didn’t get to hear that often because of the soundproofing spell cast on the school’s walls.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," you squealed joyfully, enjoying the feeling of thrill. In your peripheral vision, you saw the tips of Minho’s own lips twitch upwards. 

Light footsteps from the two of you permeated the area as he led you towards the entrance of the forest near the dorm building. "Is this the first time you’ve snuck out?" He asks at a low volume, trying to avoid the threat of getting caught.

"Yes," you reply. "I've never had the chance to do it before. Have you?"

He chuckles at you. "Plenty. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed how I sneak out at night sometimes." You blinked at his confession. Racking your brain for any memories of Minho mysteriously disappearing in the cold hours of the night, you came up with nothing. "No?"

"It's probably because you're already asleep when I leave," he says as he leads you two down a narrow path. The area you were heading to must be surrounded by trees, somewhere deep in the small forest. "Why have you never invited me?" You approached him with your complaint.

"Again, you were literally dead asleep."

"Just wake me up. I’ll catch up with a nap after getting poisoned," you joked. Minho clicks his tongue at the reminder. "Not happening. Ever." 

Seeing his face twist grumpily, you poked at his side. Minho pushes your hand away, feeling ticklish. 

After another minute of walking, you finally reached a large clearing. Minho stepped aside to give you a good view, as if proudly presenting the location. You gasp, amazed at the sight before you.

It was a big lake, something you never thought of the school having before. 

The scenery was beautifully surrounded by large bushy trees, forming a wall-like barrier around the body of water. That must be why it wasn’t easily seen from the outside. You noticed that the trees had a blue-ish glow, a result of the moonlight bouncing off the lake’s water. It helped give off a peaceful ambience, one where you could feel your worries dissolving in the chilly night. 

You look around in wonder. "I didn’t know they had a lake here!" Minho heads over closer towards the lake’s shore to sit. You sped up when he called you over.

"I found this back in third grade," he explains while picking up a rock near him. "It wasn’t on the school map, so I was surprised to see it too."

The water was certainly not lacking in appeal either. It was so crystal clear that you could see all the different kinds of rocks littered underneath it. As you looked further, you realized the lake was quite deep in the middle because you couldn’t see its floor anymore.

"This place is very therapeutic, huh?" 

Minho examined the rocks he was holding and responded, "Yeah. I come here to relax whenever I’m really stressed." He stood up and threw one of the rocks towards the water. You both watched as it skipped a few times before sinking. "I actually went here after the Legacy Day event."

Right. That must’ve been after your fight.

You let a comfortable silence take over your conversation, simply enjoying the company of one another. In the span of a few weeks, a lot has happened to the two of you. From misunderstandings that led to a fight, to making up and thinking about the future—you could say that those events really helped your change as a person, even in a short amount of time. 

But there was another thing that bothered you at the present.

"What do you think about what happened to the book?" You asked Minho. He continued skipping rocks. "You mean the Book of Legends?"

"Yeah."

"Shocking," he chuckled. "I never thought someone would ever have the balls to do such a stupid thing." 

Stupid was one way to say it. The Book of Legends was a highly secured item that only a select few people had access to. For someone to get past security, they had to be really stealthy to the point where you couldn’t notice them—that or not be classified as a threat.

"Why do you think they did it?"

Minho shrugs. "Maybe as a prank. I mean, what else can you really do with that book anyway?" He turned around to face you and asked, "Why?"

Should you tell him? It’s not even a confirmed theory, and there was a chance that you couldn’t actually erase the signatures, let alone steal another person’s story. However, Minho was someone who knew magic very well and could be a useful source of information.

"Me, Seungmin, and Felix were talking about it at lunch and thought that maybe there was a way to remove a signature from a signed story, or steal it as your own?" Minho dropped the remaining rocks.

"Wait, are you serious?"

You bit your lip. "It’s not yet confirmed, but Seungmin said it could be possible. We have magic and all that. As a magic user though, do you think it's possible?"

He thinks about it carefully. Magic was a complicated subject to dive into because it has so many layers. And because of that, Seungmin was correct that anything could be done technically with the help of magic.

"It... might be a thing," Minho considers. "It’s quite a possibility. This is really bad though, because it would mean the book being stolen could potentially cause major damage to our world." With his insight, the situation becomes so much more frightening to think about the outcome. 

Is that what the person who stole the book planned to do?

"That book is causing so many problems," he sighs tiredly. You had to agree with him. The Book of Legends has literally been the source of most of your problems, especially knowing that the way your world works is because of the stories within it.

Minho sat back down beside you. "I wish that thing just never existed," you muttered under your breath. He stares at you, amazed at what he had just heard.

"Your way of thinking has really changed."

"How could I not?" You said, feeling agitated. "There’s a ton of stuff that doesn’t make sense in the beliefs I had before. I’m kind of ashamed that I’ve only noticed it recently."

Minho pinches your cheek. "It’s never too late," he teased. "At least you’re willing to admit your shortcomings. I like that about you."

"Don’t fall for me too much," you joked. When he didn't retort, you glanced at him. However, instead of the annoyed reaction you expected, he was giving you a soft look.

"What if I already did?"

Your brain immediately short-circuited. Wait, he does? Does Minho actually like you? This isn’t a dream, right? Maybe you fell asleep earlier, and this was just your brain playing tricks on you—

"It’s real, Y/N," he pulls you out of your doubts. "Don’t be pressured to give me an answer. It’s fine if you just see me as a friend." You catch the tips of his ears turning red.

Oh God, you think you’re going to pass out.

This was Minho. Your partner in crime, Minho. The ideal man of your dreams, Minho. Once upon a time, you had a massive crush on him, Minho. And here he was telling you he liked you? Like, romantically? What can you even say to that? 

If only your parents could see you two now. You’d love to rub it in their faces that he turned out to be so much better than Hyunjin.

At your extended silence, Minho looked away. He looks really embarrassed, so you decided to end his suffering.

"I did also have a crush on you a few years back," you admitted shyly. He snaps his head towards you. "A few years back? What about now?" He asked.

You shrugged, trying to mess with him. "I don’t know," you replied. He dramatically wilts at your words. At his endearing reaction, you couldn’t help but break the act. "But I’m willing to try."

His soul comes back to him at the snap of a finger. "Really? Are you for sure?" He giddily looks for your confirmation. When you nodded at him with a smile, he almost jumped from joy. "I could literally kiss you right now," he announces, feeling breathless.

"Do it."

You didn’t have to tell him twice. It was like living fifteen-year-old you’s greatest dream, except this time, you were actually going to kiss Minho. The peaceful vibe of the area turned romantic as the two of you got closer. But just when you were about to close the gap, a movement in the woods caught your eye.

"Jisung?"

"Are you really saying someone else’s name while you’re about to kiss me?" Minho says, dumbfounded. You hastily waved your hands in denial. "No! I mean that it’s literally Jisung!" You pointed behind him.

Once Minho turned towards the direction you told him, the two of you saw Jisung, frozen in his tracks. You looked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uhm... What are you doing here too?" He squeaks out, sounding frightened.

Jisung was trembling like someone had just caught him in the act of doing something illegal. Something you didn’t understand because he’s literally the one who caught you and Minho almost kissing. 

"Are you—" The words you were about to say dried up completely after your eyes traveled down to the object he was currently clutching with his whole strength. Hold on.

Is that the Book of Legends?

You choked on air. "Did—were you the one—" Your eyes stayed fixed on the supposedly missing book. Jisung panics and quickly hides it behind his back, as if that would erase both yours and Minho’s memory of ever seeing it on his hands. Minho abruptly stood up.

"Jisung, what have you done?" He stepped forward, scaring the poor guy even more. "Do you even know how big of a deal this is?"

Then, the unexpected happens.

"And what if I do!?" Jisung snaps.

You were taken aback. This was a side of him you’ve never seen before. Well, the two of you aren’t exactly close friends, but you’ve always seen Jisung as having a cheerful personality. The case of him getting angry, let alone annoyed, seems so foreign to you. Minho's eyes narrowed at him. 

"...Please tell us you aren't planning something bad," he slowly said, attempting to approach Jisung. But the latter takes a few steps back. 

"This book is a curse!" Jisung reasons, pointing at the book. He looks at it with such hatred that you never thought would be possible to come from him. "Don't you see it? Everyone is getting torn apart just because of this damned book! The school is a mess, my friends are all fighting, and the person I like won’t even give us a chance, all because of this—this thing!"

It was as clear as the lake's water that Jisung was hurting. You could see the unshed tears piling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He was determined to get his point across: the book had to be disposed of. And he was the martyr; volunteering to do it himself.

"Jisung, just think for a moment—"

"How easy for you to say, Minho!" He scoffed in disdain. "You haven’t signed yet. You’re still free to do everything you want without anything tying you down—"

"And that almost cost me my life!" Minho reminds him. "If the saying was true, I wouldn’t even be here talking to you right now, Jisung."

You decided to speak too, "Jisung, please. We don’t know the extent of the importance that book holds. It could literally end up destroying the world in the worst case scenario."

He looks at you in disbelief, not believing his own ears at what you had said.

"Why are you even defending it? I know you don’t like your story either, Y/N. If we just get rid of it, then we can be free," Jisung appeals, trying to get you on his side. You shook your head. He was a bit too far gone. "Jisung, we could literally die."

"I know, okay!?" He wails. "But I’ve gotten this far already. This isn’t something I can just undo!" Jisung falls roughly to the floor, greatly distressed.

His desperation was evident in his sobs. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Jisung was Hyunjin’s best friend, as well as his roommate—but Jisung was also close to Changbin and Jeongin. The whole Rebel and Royals thing must have been devastating for him. He was also one of the people who signed the book before Minho’s outburst back on Legacy Day. Something you knew he only did because there was no other choice, just like what happened to you. Jisung also had the ability to turn into a frog at will, a trait that evolved for the line of the Frog Prince. He must’ve snuck through security as one to reach the chamber they placed the book in. How he got through the magic barriers, though, was beyond you. But that didn’t matter at the moment.

Minho walks over and grabs Jisung’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "You can still return it... We won’t tell on you as long as you don’t get caught," Minho turns to you. "Just promise us you’ll return it, okay?" You nod your head in agreement. Jisung manages a confirmation through his sniffles.

"Let’s head back. You can return it early in the morning, Jisung."

A loud bang abruptly woke you and Minho up. Feeling distraught, you sat up to find the source of the disturbance. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but what you saw was not what you expected at all.

"Did you seriously sleep in one bed?" Hyunjin asks, looking at the two of you. "And you called me and Mina bad."

What the hell was he doing here?

Like reading your mind, Minho pulls you back towards his chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" He sleepily glares at the intruder.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at Minho’s reaction. Instead of finally leaving, he shuts the door he flew open and sits on your sofa. You and Minho watched as he made himself comfortable, completely ignoring both of you in your current intimate position. Hyunjin stares back, unamused.

"So I can’t be comfy too? Have some hospitality, geez."

You pinched your nose bridge before asking, "So? What’s your business here?" Hyunjin had a visible lightbulb moment. Is he serious—

"I have news!" He announces. "About the Book of Legends."

You light up. "Oh! Did Jisung manage to return it—" Minho clasped a hand over your mouth to shut you up. Fuck, you forgot that Hyunjin might not be aware. You both eyed him awkwardly, looking for a way to cover up your mistake. Hyunjin snorts at the comical scene.

"Don’t worry, I already know. I helped him return it earlier."

You let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I thought Jisung was toast now." Hyunjin grabbed a sofa pillow to hug. Is he planning to stay here or what? "Do you have anything else to say—"

"It’s fake."

Minho, who finally came out of his sleepy spell, gave Hyunjin a confused look. "What’s fake?" The former pursed his lips, obviously conflicted about what he was about to say.

"The Book of Legends is fake."

Did Jisung steal a dummy? Wait, does this mean he got caught? You are now alarmed at the possible indication. "Is Jisung okay?"

To your relief, Hyunjin confirmed that the other prince was indeed safe. You don’t know what you would do if he was ever found out to be the one who attempted to steal the Book of Legends. That was a crime worth getting expelled and imprisoned for, even worse than Minho disrupting this year’s Legacy Day event.

"How’d you find out it was fake?" Minho asked.

"We were passing by the principal’s office after returning the book to the chamber. The door was slightly open, and we heard him ordering another to this person over the phone. At first we thought it was for a dummy until the actual one was back, but it turns out the book wasn’t even this all-powerful relic! It’s literally just an enchanted book to make those fancy visuals—"

"Hold on, you mean the whole concept of the Book of Legends is fake? Not just the one Jisung stole?" You yelled at the unexpected revelation. "Then what the fuck is the Book of Legends for then?"

Hyunjin looked shocked. "You curse?"

"Answer me!"

He raised his hand up when you attempted to launch at him. Minho quickly held you back. "Calm down, woman. And you ask me why I don’t want to marry you." Minho gave him a pointed look. 

"Let’s not go there right now."

"No need to get all possessive on me, loverboy. I have no plans to take her away." Hyunjin tells Minho. The latter only snarls sourly. "You better not."

"Hello? Are we just going to brush off that the Book of Legends isn’t true?"

Hyunjin retorts, "It’s real. Just not in the way we believed it was. It’s literally just a book filled with stories enchanted with magic to make it look fancy." You stared daggers at him. 

"Get Jisung. You’re so useless."

He whined. "It’s not my fault! I don’t know much else other than that either! Jisung went straight to Yeri to see if she could post the news. We’re hoping to get the issue investigated professionally."

"How are you so sure they aren’t in on this too? Maybe we’ve been living under the control of the officials for so long!" Minho stroked your hair, in an attempt to calm you down. "Isn't that the point of a government?" shrugs Hyunjin.

You threw a pillow at him.

"Can you not!?" He shrieked. Minho groaned at the chaotic scene. "Thank you for the news, Hyunjin, but this could really wait until lunch or something," he locked you in place so that you wouldn’t attack the poor guy any more, "Unless you have anything else you want to say?"

Hyunjin went silent. He placed the pillow back to rest on the sofa, and sat properly. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke.

"I wanted to say sorry to Y/N," he admits. "There isn’t an explanation I can give you for why I treated you the way I did other than I was immature and hated the idea of not being able to choose who I married—which is a bad excuse because it’s not like you liked that either. Compared to the two of us, you treated me much better than I did to you, even if we were in the same boat." You blinked.

"I’m working on myself, and Mina is too. So I hope you can forgive us someday. You don’t have to like us, though. We'd understand that much."

Well, this was unexpected. Hyunjin and Mina weren’t total bullies, but they still had a hand in the multiple times you were hurt. It would be hard to forget, but you think you could manage to forgive them in the near future at the very least. If they were willing to change, that was enough for you.

"I’ll think about it," you replied to him. The simple positive response was enough to make him smile. "Thanks."

Hyunjin stood up and headed towards the door. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds now. School starts in two hours, by the way. Might as well get ready; there’s bound to be lots of people in the cafeteria soon," he bids, closing the door not long after.

You lay back down, covering yourself with the blanket. Minho laughs and joins you.

"Thirty more minutes."

A day after the shocking truth of the Book of Legends came out on Yeri’s blog, an investigation was launched into the case. And just a mere two days after that, Jisung and Hyunjin’s finding was confirmed—which appalled the whole realm.

It turns out, there was so much more to the fake Book of Legends. Storybook High’s current principal comes from a long line of people who were all high-ranking officials in this world. It was also from this family that the concept of stories was traced back to: the Grimm Family. After careful investigation, they found out that one of their first ancestors responsible for the stories was a very ambitious writer, who wished for his works to come to life. With the help of his older brother, who was a strong magic user, he learned magic with his goals in mind. And with the magic he had gained, he made the legitimate Book of Legends. 

It was a book containing all of his stories, with different parts dedicated to all of the characters. But there was a curse embedded into the book; if one signed a character’s story, they would end up living the same life as them. 

Satisfied with his work, the Grimm ancestor went around towns, trying to find people to trick into signing the pages under the guise that it meant they liked the story. As one could have probably guessed by now, you were the generations that came after those victims.

That didn’t mean your Book of Legends had the same curse, though.

Apparently, the original book has long since disappeared, only really affecting the first generation of those who signed it. The Grimm ancestor did not live long enough to make another one for his victims’ offspring, though, and in an effort to save their father’s work, his children vowed to continue the stories no matter what—which was still the Grimm Family’s main goal in the current time.

The truth wasn’t uncovered earlier because the Grimm Family quickly took over the world’s power positions and buried the information—making it only accessible to those in on the plan. Following this, they also found out that the current Grimm governing the school had a brother who they locked up in prison wrongfully because he opposed their family’s plans.

What a ride.

"This is so messed up," Chan gasped from across the table, setting down his mirror phone that had the news displayed. "I knew it was sketchy, but not this sketchy!" Felix agrees with him, reaching over Seungmin’s tray to grab his brownie.

Yours and Minho’s friend group (plus Hyunjin and Jisung, who were connected to Changbin) were currently seated at one table, eating their respective lunches. The full result of the investigation just came out earlier this morning, and many were still processing the bomb that just dropped.

"It’s great to know we’ve been living a lie all along," Jeongin chirps sarcastically. Jisung smiled at the group. "But at least now they've abolished it, right? We’re all free now!"

Oh, that was another thing that happened. After the arrest of the remaining Grimm Family members that were involved with the scheme, the new officials completely tore the "follow your story" concept apart and encouraged everyone to write their own destinies. As a result, many of those who heavily sided with the Royals division apologized for their actions and were now working to improve themselves.

"Took them long enough," Minho said, placing an apple on your tray. You pinched his arm. "Ouch!" Seungmin had the audacity to look disgusted. 

"Can you two flirt somewhere else?" 

"Fine," Minho said, standing up and dragging you along. Gagging noises were heard from the table as the two of you left. You laughed, very amused at their reactions. When Minho stops the both of you in an empty corridor, you joked, "Why do we always end up in a hallway?"

He chuckles at your comment. "Who knows," he stepped closer, "But I know I haven’t gotten that kiss yet." You rolled your eyes at his suggestion. "I can’t believe we ended up together. We're literally supposed to be enemies," you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Minho snickers. "That’s only written on paper anyway," he leans forward.

"Paper can easily be torn."

taglist 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @ni-sh @xazucaradictax @autumn-lv @hyuka-luvbot @openlylazybookreader @aunty-tiger-potato @mafegarcia @peachesandcream-9 @strwbrryblues @skzpdf @sidekidzz

[memryse]

The magic of 3rd Life, or why such a simple hardcore miniseries works as well as it does

For a series which only lasted for eight sessions, 3rd Life has had a profound impact on the MCYT fandom. While it did go comparatively unnoticed on Twitter (as is consistent with YouTube-based Minecraft content as a whole, admittedly), Tumblr and other platforms have fallen in love with this series, and it’s become a vector for many fans to familiarise themselves with Hermitcraft and Empires SMP as well. But at its core, 3rd Life is a simple vanilla survival series with a gimmick. What about it resonates so much with so many people?

I would argue that its simplicity, its small cast, its vanilla gameplay “with a twist” is certainly part of it. It’s an easy series to consume, with many POVs totalling four hours or less, and it doesn’t require any prior knowledge of any of the members. Its mechanics are easy to understand. As a standalone, it functions perfectly – it’s immersive and can be followed easily by anyone, regardless of any prior knowledge they may or may not have. However, these factors alone don’t quite encompass what makes 3rd Life so special. Its true charm point lies in the format of the series, and how well it utilises improv.

[more below the cut; this is a fairly long post about 3rd/Last Life meta and my love of its improv. I'm mostly talking about 3rd Life here as it's a completed series, but this most definitely does apply to Last Life as well]

3rd Life is an entirely improv-based series. Whilst members may have a brief concept of the direction they’d like to take their series in – how heavily they want to roleplay, for example – the actual content of each session is fully improvised. Each episode is recorded in one three-hour block, and members are not allowed to play on the server outside of the allotted time other than specifically to finish builds. This time constraint prevents any planning from going into each episode, and interactions between players are completely spontaneous. Players simply run around the map looking for others to interact with (which is significantly easier with the limited world border) and chat about various events on the server, form alliances or deals, etc.

By definition, this almost completely negates the possibility of bad writing. Each player’s reaction to any server event is spontaneous, a legitimate reaction; they aren’t trying to play any specific roles or shoehorn in any specific events (with the exception of the Red King/Hand of the King roles, who were still completely improvising). Even the finale – a distinctly heart-wrenching and tragic scene – was improvised without Grian or Scar attempting to tell any specific story. According to Martyn, they weren’t roleplaying, they didn’t have any aims with that scene. It just happened to turn out in the way that it did, and they were legitimately sorry to one another. The server progressed in this natural way, and every person’s perspective tells a completely different story. It’s hard to identify any specific heroes or villains – fans of the Dream SMP can surely relate to this feeling, but I would argue that 3rd Life takes this one step further. 3rd Life is a tragedy from all perspectives, a tragedy which tells one cohesive story in its entirety before stopping as abruptly as it began.

3rd Life hinges entirely on its interactions between its members. Whilst solo content does exist – base building, for example – the majority of each session is spent interacting with others. 3rd Life is carried by its dialogue; nothing else drives the story, and yet many episodes are between 30 minutes and an hour long. It’s that dialogue-heavy. Members of the server have expressed trouble with even editing their videos because there is so much key dialogue that they don’t want to cut. People don’t watch 3rd Life for the actual gameplay, at all – there’s so little of it! They watch it for how each member interacts with the people around them. This is something not found in any other SMP I’ve encountered. SMPs livestreamed on Twitch have plenty of downtime, and people will happily watch streams on that SMP no matter what’s occurring on the server; people often watch them for their interest in specific members. Other currently popular YouTube SMPs, namely Hermitcraft and Empires, are well-balanced between solo content and interactions, and all server content hinges on the members’ various skills like building and redstone. 3rd Life is, to my knowledge, the only SMP which does not rely on building or redstone skills (what’s the point, when they’ll be dead the next week?), it doesn’t rely on the creator doing solo work talking to their chat, it doesn’t rely on planned roleplay. People legitimately just want to hear various members talking to each other. It’s a fascinatingly unique series in this regard. This dialogue-heavy aspect of 3rd Life ties back to my earlier point about 3rd Life feeling like a completely different series from all perspectives; with all of this dialogue being conveyed through proximity chat, so many events are entirely left out of other POVs, or presented in very different lights.

The pure improv format also helps significantly with worldbuilding, whilst also leaving plenty to the imagination. MCYT fandoms always require a significant amount of imagination to become invested in them, let alone make fan content of them, and 3rd Life is no exception to this. As discussed in this post, which was incidentally the inspiration for me to write this one, 3rdLife is full of lines which flesh out the series, which illustrate what happened better than can be shown in Minecraft. These lines are improvised on the spot, and are often complete throwaway lines in the creators’ eyes. In the fans’ eyes, they make 3rd Life feel alive, they provide plenty of material on which to base headcanons. Again, this isn’t necessarily unique to 3rd Life, it’s a common aspect of all Minecraft series, but I think this is where the rather angsty nature of 3rd Life comes into play. A dramatic survival game, entirely unscripted, with all events hinging entirely on your interpretation of them? It’s not hard to see why 3rd Life fans are so creative with character designs and fanfiction – hell, a lot of 3rd Life fics simply narrate canon in their own more dramatic light. Canon-compliant fics are significantly more common for 3rd Life than other fandoms I've encountered, because people hear these simple lines and want to dramatise them, put their own spins on them. I don't feel that this would be possible with any other series, not to the extent that 3rd Life fans do it. Other series' canon is either already dramatic, and so rehashing it can feel repetitive, or so lighthearted that people write AUs/new storylines. 3rd Life strikes a brand-new balance.

The development of its characters is also bolstered by improv. As no events on the server are pre-planned, members have to react completely spontaneously to anything that occurs. They don’t get time to think – only to react as though they genuinely were in that situation. As I said at the start, 3rd Life inherently lacks bad writing, because it’s not written. Ren, for instance, began 3rd Life as a kind and harmless person, with others often walking right over him. His reaction to his death by Grian and Scar’s trap spurs him to become the Red King; he raises an army and goes to war, and ends the series having taken countless lives, becoming hardened by war. He begins Last Life by isolating himself from others, seeming jaded and unwilling to form alliances, ready for another war to break out. Being improvised, it’s impossible to say how much of this was deliberate, or if Ren just started building his base without thinking about continuity from the previous season. This improv is what makes it feel so natural. It isn’t planned beforehand. This is Ren’s natural reaction to starting Last Life. It makes his character feel so much more real than it would if this was all scripted beforehand.

3rd Life is, overall, a testament to the power of improv. It manages to be compelling and dramatic without any acting feeling forced or wooden. Its characters’ arcs feel natural, because they are natural. Placing such a heavy emphasis on dialogue, with the gimmick of the server being a vehicle for interactions to happen rather than the sole appeal of the series, makes it truly feel as though we’re getting a glimpse into the characters’ lives, rather than watching a story which has been written beforehand. We get to watch everything unfold in real time. 3rd Life has a magic to it that, to my knowledge, no other SMP has been able to recreate.