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eiimeixi · 7 months ago

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i hope no one minds if i yap, so i'll share my story

i didn't start out writing fanfiction specifically because of one person, but multiple people. i got inspired by the amount of people who put effort and dedication into their love and passion for the hobby and the characters

but there definitely was some fanfiction that completely altered my brain chemistry, forever. THAT I WILL NEVER GET TO REVISIT BECAUSE THEY'RE COMPLETELY GONE FROM THE INTERNET, ONLY BURNED INTO MY MEMORIES AND I'LL CARRY THEM ON TO MY GRAVE WITH NO ONE TO TELL BUT THE EARTH MIXED INTO MY ROTTING FLESH-- or ashes, depends

the first was a wattpad bokuaka fic i randomly found linked while looking at fanarts on google (please it was years ago)

the title was "Doctor's Orders" and the plot was basically bokuto was in a mental hospital? or asylum? or rehab im pretty sure for anger issues if i remember correctly, and his new doctor was akaashi. obviously, doctors and patients arent allowed to be involved in relationships with each other, but despite that they began slowly falling in love, helping bokuto overcome his anger issues. oh, of course they never acted upon their romantic feelings for each other in ways other than caring for each other. but they would get into small accidents that make it seem like they did something. WHICH IS IMPORTANT FOR THE PLOT. WHY? because shirabu finally released bokuto after deeming that he has healed, and so akaashi and bokuto can finally allow themselves to be in an official relationship!! so happy happy!! yeah, totally, until the cops came and arrested akaashi for grooming a patient that was "not yet released". yep. shirabu didn't actually sign the papers for releasing bokuto. he faked them! tricked them! tricked akaashi into getting arrested (there were cameras in the rehab facility that captured all of those little accidents AND THEY WERE ALL PLANNED BY SHIRABU) and tricked bokuto into thinking he was free for GOD KNOWS WHY??? I THINK I WAS TOO SHOCKED TO EVEN COMPREHEND WHY THE HELL SHIRABU DID THAT OR IT JUST GENUINELY WASNT STATED BUT DUDE I'M STILL NOT OVER IT. ESPECIALLY NOT WHEN YEARS PASSED AND BOKUTO WAS FINALLY RELEASE FOR REAL (dude he was actually healthy already when shirabu faked signing the release papers but idk that guy has a screw loose) AND DECIDED TO PAY A VISIT TO AKAASHI, ONLY TO FIND HIM ABSOLUTELY WRECKED. HE ADMITTED HE FORCED ALL OF THE GUYS TO HAVE SEX WITH HIM EVEN IF THEY DIDN'T WANT TO, ALL BECAUSE HE COULDN'T GET HIS AND BOKUTO'S FIRST TIME OUT OF HIS HEAD. HE WAS THAT WRECKED. AND HE MENTIONED ABOUT HOW HURT HE WAS THAT BOKUTO NEVER VISITED HIM IN ALL THOSE YEARS. I WAS IN TEARS?? EVEN MORE SO IN THE EPILOGUE THAT SHOWED WHAT WOULD'VE HAPPENED IF AKAASHI WASN'T ARRESTED AND THEY NAMED THEIR CHILD AFTER YACHI.

THAT WAS LIKE 2,3 YEARS AGO AND THE WOUND IS STILL VERY. VERY FRESH. I WILL NOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME GET OVER THAT FANFIC. i still mourn it every waking morning. because im very sure it's deleted and i don't even remember the author.

(please guys if you know what im talking about, cry with me)

the other fanfics were all written by melqiiuvi on ao3, an ex-skephalo writer that i GREATLY LOOK UP TO. THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO GODLY AND ALL OF THEIR FICS COMPLETELY HAUNT ME.

THE ONE WHERE BAD WAS ALWAYS A TIME-TAKING FREAK WHO'D ALWAYS JOLT DOWN IMPORTANT DATES, DOWN TO THE EXACT TIME THINGS HAPPENED. UNTIL ONE NIGHT WHERE HE GOES TO A PARTY WHERE HIS SCHOOL YEAR-LONG CRUSH SKEPPY GOES AND THEY'RE DRUNK, AND END UP KISSING. AND KISSING. AND MAKING OUT. AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN BAD'S LIFE, HE THINKS SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF NOT NEEDING TO WRITE DOWN THE EXACT AMOUNT OF TIMES THEY KISSED, WHEN EACH KISS HAPPENED, ECT ECT. AND JUST LEARN TO LIVE IN THE MOMENT

THE ONE WHERE SKEPPY HATES VALENTINES AND DOESN'T SEE THE POINT IN IT BUT HE LEARNS IT'S IMPORTANCE WHEN HE SEES HOW IMPORTANT IT IS FOR BAD

THE ONE WHERE SKEPPY WORKS AT A CAFE AND HE'S ONE OF THE BEST EMPLOYEES BUT WHENEVER BAD'S AROUND HE ACTS ALL CLUMSY AND SHIT TO GET HIS ATTENTION

THE ONE WHERE SKEPPY'S IN AN UNHAPPY RELATIONSHIP BUT HE KEEPS HER AROUND BECAUSE-- actually i dont remember, BUT WHEN HE FINDS OUT BAD HAS A CRUSH ON HIM HE TRIES HIS ABSOLUTE BEST TO PREVENT BAD INTO FALLING ANY FURTHER FOR HIM, TO SAVE HIM FROM HIMSELF. ONLY FOR SKEPPY TO FALL FOR BAD. LIKE. THE SCENE WHERE HIS GIRLFRIEND'S SITTING ON HIS LAP IN THE CAFETERIA AND TALKING TO HIM BUT SKEPPY CATCHES A GLANCE OF BAD SMILING FROM TABLES AWAY AND HE CAN'T STOP THE WIDE, GENUINE SMILE FROM TAKING OVER HIS FACE AND QUICKLY LOOKS TO HIS GIRLFRIEND TO MAKE IT SEEM LIKE HE WAS SMILING AT HER INSTEAD. THE LINE WHERE THE GIRL SWEARS SHE'S NEVER SEEN HIM SMILE SO GENUINE WITH HER. AND IT WASNT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE DIRECTED AT HER. GRJAJHWA

MOST IMPORTANTLY, THE ONE WHERE BAD HAS SYNESTHESIA AND SKEPPY'S A GUITARIST IM PRETTY SURE AND EVERYTIME HE STRUMS THE GUITAR, BAD SEES BLUE. at least i think.. i'm not very sure the memories i have of the plot are pretty vague BUT I DO VIVIDLY VIVIDLY REMEMBER EVERYTIME SKEPPY TALKED, BAD SAW YELLOW. AND A LINE ABOUT HOW BAD'S FAVORITE COLOR'S YELLOW NOW TOO.

ALL OF THEM. ALL OF THEM ARE DELETED BUT THEY'RE ON MEMENTOARCHIVE . ORG BUT I DONT FUCKING KNOW HOW TO DOWNLOAD THEM BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING REDIRECTED INTO A TIME-WASTER SCAM OF A WEBSITE

anyways yeah that's my story of anguish and endless mourning, please never delete your fics no matter how cringe they might seem to you, because some people might actually take comfort in them or it's their favorite fic and idk you may or may not have killed someone by deleting it, or have prevented a death by posting a fic you think's trashy, WHO KNOWS. they always say one man's trash is another man's treasure. always keep that in mind!

for everytime you feel your fic's cringe, remember you might've changed someone's life for uploading it.

just pls pls never delete. post them anonymously or orphan them, but pls never delete them. :((

the way I have heard so many talented fanfic writers say they started writing because they read someone else's fanfics that are so good they inspired them into becoming writers too? just proved my point that your writing is never 'in vain', even if you dislike it and think it could've been better, it's still good enough for someone out there that it becomes their source of inspiration and perhaps happiness. you'll never know.

but don't ever, ever belittle your own works. just because you don't like them, doesn't mean other people dislike them too. again, you'll never know. there could be someone out there who reread your works every day because those fics you wrote helped them escape reality for a while, they could be reading your works as a way to help get them through a hard time in their life. you'll never know.

your writing may have saved someone's life.

your writing may have inspired someone into pursuing their career and changing their life for the better.

several best selling authors started as fanfic writers, and the majority of fanfic writers started writing because they were inspired by someone's fanfics. you do the math.

your "silly fics" have permanent impact on this world, even if you think they're not good (they actually are good, I promise you, don't let your mind lie to you).

I mean ***I*** personally started writing my first fanfic about 7 years ago, and have been writing ever since, because I was inspired by my favorite fanfic writers. I still remember all the lines I like from those fics I read 7-8 years ago, I still think about those fics I read from 7-8 years ago and still remember the stories very well in my heart. I started writing because of them.

this blog would never have been created at all, if it weren't because of those fanfic writers whose works I read 7-8 years ago.

I wouldn't have so far written about 130,000 words this year alone, if it weren't because of those fanfic writers whose works I read 7-8 years ago.

to all the fanfic writers out there; your works inspired someone, your writing made a difference to someone's life.

#writer #writeblr #ao3 #writing #my life's story of endless mourning #please never delete fics #im sorry for rambling so much #sorry im a mess i needed to get this off my chest

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whosmaggy · 2 months ago

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scariest thing in the universe

i am perpetually scared (scwawed). tv show soundaffects, floorboards creeking, solitude, all scare me in the way that makes me text my friend(s) for their aide. truthfully, im not actually scared, my problem is paranoia.

im not allowed to donate blood or plasma (thinking of putting weights in my pockets so they allow me) but stem cells, yes. i dont think it would work though. they were prepare me for surgery, start drilling into my bones, and find nothing but instability. i think thats what my dna is made up.

a few years ago (when my mom was losing her mind) i was terrified she had developed Alzheimers. everytime she forgot something i would tell myself "remember this, in the far future, when the doctor asks if there were any signs, you can come back here." it was a comfort to me to tell myself that she had something wrong with her that wasnt in me (or at least wouldnt be for the next 20-30 years). looking back that was just one of her episodes of her grip on reality was loose.

i dont know what she has. i know its something. i dont want to sound like the moody 14 year old on tiktok that believes everything is cause for a diagnosis, but really, ive seen her, while on the way to my favourite grocery story, get a shaky voice telling me and my brother that shes going to die and that there is money under her mattress.

i go on walks everyday. when i walk past the canal i think of jumping in and drowning. pretty much everywhere i go, i am my own grim reaper, conjuring up ways to die.

my mother has bouts of insanity, where she spends hours a day screaming at anyone or anything. after that shes lighter, spends her time with gossip and blending buckets of garlic paste.

i know the symptoms of bipolar I, II and cyclothymia pretty well, ive read every nihm article there is on them. i know my mothers emotions very well.

theres a 10-90% chance bpd is genetic. i love math. when the percentage a study gives is >50% i cry so hard i cant breathe and i have to drink water to stop my head from hurting. i hope the universal calculator is looking down at me, watching the show, going into my brain and rewriting the mutations. i hope math loves me.

i want to have 3 kids. there was a time i wanted none. i had visions of being a mother like mine. ill say it simply, i dont want any of what she has, because i dont want to be like her.

i used to have to tell her that nobody hates her/is talking shit about her, she isnt going to die tomorrow, my brothers plane isnt going to crash, no ones stealing the bike in the backyard. i dont want someone else to have to guide me through my days of losing it.

when i have my moments of saying and doing anything i want and then not being able to stop myself for sitting around thinking of dying, i remember im 18. early adulthood is when bpd develops.

i cant escape my mind, i cant skip past the years or early adulthood when symptoms are thr most intense and ripe for diagnosing, i just have to live with not knowing if 10-90% are good odds.

i hope in 15 years i wake up with my 3 kids and im able to tell myself my kids have it better, because im better.

#losingit #insane #freeme #dnaihy #mendeldie #cookieclicker

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alexachungsfavorite · 8 months ago

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day 1,671

i keep looking for you in your favorite things. im rewatching your shows and movies in hopes that i will find a piece of you there.

its 4am and the birds are chirping and the sun is about to rise and i am 2,817 miles away from where we first met and i cant go one day without thinking about you. no matter how long its been, the tears will always prick my eyes and burn my skin as they roll down. a silent promise to never forget you, but also a promise to never get better. i wish someone would love me like you did. no one will ever be that gentle with me again.

my grief has made me rough, frayed at the edges, like an old sweater thats been washed too many times, every thread threatening to fall apart at any moment.

i think youd hate that im writing this. you hated everything like this.

do you judge me when i cry and scream over you after all this time? do you hate that we are tethered, sometimes i do. but the pain of not having you is worth it to have spent even one second with you.

your laugh sounded like being a child again at a sleepover, hiding under blankets with sticky hands and unbrushed teeth, trying not to be too loud so our parents dont wake.

i wish we had been friends when were 6. it felt like we had been. maybe we were separated at birth. maybe in another life we met on the playground and we were still laughing. i can still hear you if i try. i see you every time i close my eyes. i look for you in every crowd. even though i know youll never be there. i hold out hope that you faked your death and ran away and maybe ill be the lucky one to find you.

i know thats not real, i saw you in that casket.

i keep replaying what you said to me the night before you died: “we were born to be best friends.”

you were right, half of me is buried with you. and half of you remains with me. some days it feels like youre sitting right next to me. most days i fall asleep on the couch pretending my head is still in your lap.

do you still think im a flower?

im still sorry i wasnt there.

can i see you in my dreams tonight?

#grief

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catgirlinfluencer · 1 year ago

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at one point, i just started to feel really pathetic every single time i let people make me feel so sad, so small. i felt awful not just because of how i was treated, but because of the way it made me feel, too. being talked to like i deserve no dignity or respect, like that in and of itself is conditional, can be brutal especially when its your own family. and i hate, hate, hate, feeling like i just turn into a sad, pathetic bleating animal whenever i feel this. oh, woe is me, ive never lived with anyone who accepts me wholeheartedly and would never take away respect to me whenever they feel like it. who gives a shit anyways?

and really, that sentiment was the basis for how 14/15 year old me started to feel at that point in my life. yeah, people didnt love me. people found me annoying. i was ugly, weird, had 0 social skills, and barely qualified for being either a boy or a girl, so i was the weirdo. sp what? what then, huh? what do i do with that?

what ive always done. Nimodo. no other way around it. pick yourself up and be your biggest support. find refuge in yourself and the things that make You happy. you already know theres nobody you can count on, nobody you can really, truthfully rely on. nobody out here who could save you or would want to in the blink of an eye. alright, well, whatever. just keep going. what other choice do you have?

i used to think suicide was one of my choices. but i never actually went through with it. throughout the various points in my life where i ideated ending my life in exchange for an escape from a meaningless, stupid, and frankly ridiculous existence, i never actually took the steps towards it. ive always been someone whos had to self regulate, pull myself back from everything. i dont put myself out there, i dont try to be daring, i dont raise my voice and i dont end a conversation without a thank you or a polite goodbye. i guess part of that discipline showed itself when i wanted to end it all, but just didnt.

so its always just brought me back to square one... what do you do? you just have. to keep. fucking. going. no matter what. youre down? sad? life keeps going. time keeps passing through you and around you. nothing can change how you feel, so why mope about it?

i guess another way to phrase it is, i know nobody out here is ever going to be there for me wholeheartedly, so why even bother caring about that? ill put all my energy into loving being alone and by myself. its what i can make msot of it, at least.

a part of me still wishes this wasnt the case, of course. id give anything to change this all. to have friends who visit me, to not be the crutch or the punching bag for once, to just be me and be loved for being me. of course i wish someone out there didnt think i was annoying, or that my interests are weird. of course i wish i wasnt so fucking self concious every moment of my waking life, and that i didnt have to calculate or reflect upon every movement and sound i make. of course i wish i didnt care how my family isnt gentle, or that i always feel jealous or like an annoyance. i wish i had a full complete family, someone who was here for me always. i wish i never had to learn to be by myself always, or to expect nothing from anyone.

but i cant change it. so what does it matter?

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pretendstoread · 1 year ago

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first...second...second first

it's funny that every time i think about writing i never really know what to say. i don't remember making this account in 2018, or writing for the first time on here. i've gone back and forth between journaling--where to do it, if it's even helping me--and there's a strong chance that i'll move on from this just like the other journals and modes of expression.

i've just been kinda uninspired. i fear that i wasnt born to be an artist. i dont think i Do enough. i dont really photograph. nothing really inspires me anymore. i'm kinda worried that new york's tap has run dry, but i dont think it's effective to blame the city i live in instead of myself. this has been a problem of mine for years now. why is it so hard to express yourself?!! i feel like i have a lot in me and yet no way to show for it. i dont know if i have a good work life balance. i dont know if thats even the problem? it's just.....so easy to do nothing....? but it doesnt make me happy??? but i keep doing nothign anyway??? maybe THIS is the first step to that. there's a bit of ego in making this. like. diary public. though i dont really think anyone will see it (and i don't care (but i will tag this anyway and maybe check if it gets any notes)). but i dont mean it to be egotistical.

i am a product of post internet use. i grew up expressing myself online. i was on facebook in fifth grade, tumblr in middle school, wattpad/ao3 and stan twitter in high school, art school in college, and back on twitter as a young adult. there has never been a point where i wasn't trying to put myself out there somehow, to be seen and shared and agreed with or admired or congratulated or impressed by. this pressure To Be Seen at 24 feels the most strong. the strongest ever felt. everywhere all the time i see and am told that i have so much time and that 20s are just the beginning. but it doesnt feel that way at all. it LOOMS over me. life shouldnt be Established but it should be.....Impressive? thats the second time i used impressive in this post so thats some subconscious thing going on there. But much of life right now is waking up, going to work, hating work, coming home, sitting on the couch until it's time for bed (which i either fall asleep right there or lazily flop into bed--and consequently miss taking my antianxiety meds), and then i wake up all over again. there's nothing to really show for. i don't feel like an interesting person. i dont feel like i do enough for myself. i guess i have a fear that i will be in this cycle for so long that one day it's 20 years later and nothings reallllllly changed. like. fundamentally.

i cannot think that far ahead. i have no ten year plan, 5 year, one year, 6 months...but i will be a fucking doomer about myself every chance i get. it's, of course, easier to catastrophize in the moment. lower expectations = less chance of disappointment! i think it's also interesting that the only things i really journal about are negative thoughts. wtf is that about. i'm not even necessarily unhappy right now.

things that make me feel Happy:

having enough food in the house that i can make something without having to go out or order in

laying in the sun on the beach after getting bodied by waves

creme soda

when i'm wearing a dress and dont care about my underwear showing (i like to spread! im sitting knees up at my desk right now!!)

catching someone i like looking at me (does it mean anything extra if they're drinking something at the same time....? and they don't break eye contact...?)

customizable internet--the past now....i remember when tumblr was a WEBSITE more than an APP. we must free ourselves from The Profile.

#diary #if you see this hi

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thunderon · 2 years ago

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heyyy thunderon, i wasnt sure who to ask about this so i figured I'd go to you cause you seem to pick up on a LOT of things in tlt. Do you have any idea of the significance of the icons at the start of the chapters in NtN? It's really killing me that i have absolutely no clue why certain skulls show up when they do.

im very flattered you thought of me!! and ill give it a go. i haven’t gone through every chapter and im not confident, but i think a lot of the headers are meant to sorta signify a character/event in that chapter? this is potentially me giving meaning where there is none, but here’s me tentatively picking at some examples:

the 3rd House skull appears as the chapter header on chapters 8/13. chapter 8 is when nona makes the fake radio call to crown and chapter 13 is a crown-centric chapter where she takes care of judith.

chapter 16 (tower symbol) is when ianthe + gideon (aka the Tower Princes) appear on the broadcast.

chapter 20 (1st house skull) is when ianthe arrives (on God’s behalf) and reunites with crown. chapter 21 (3rd house fractured skull) is when we find out crown bugged ianthe.

imho each symbol sorta corresponds with a major event of the chapter, and i think particularly the split house skull image holds a meaning of its own. i think it could sorta symbolizes that tear between allegiances and identities (and identity is a HUGE theme in the novel.) and it actually repeats:

chapter 5 is when we get a HEAVY hint that it’s harrows body. chapter 22 is when nona disguises herself as harrow. chapter 24 is when nona finds gideon. chapter 25 is when gideon wakes up, and we kinda get that sense that she’s not quite what we left with. continuing on:

chapter 23 is when camilla and pal duel (and defeat) ianthe. chapter 28 is when they die and become Paul.

chapter 14 is a regular nona chapter with some hints about her identity thrown in. chapter 19 is when nona has her tantrum and part of alecto’s old memories (fighting with a two-hander) are unleashed. the open tomb symbol also appears again on chapter 32 (when the tomb is actually opened).

maybe its a coincidence or im just forcing it to have meaning, but that’s kinda my take on it at the moment. i might think some more on this later… very interesting!!!

#asks #hopefully this doesn’t read as deranged as i feel making this #i feel like im giving major tinfoil hat vibes #the locked tomb #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #nona spoilers #and i think the 2nd House skull reps judith and pyrrha #i haven’t reread through the a lot of the other chapters tho

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mcytblrconfessions · 3 years ago

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Need to get this off my chest. okay so in early 2020 I had some friends who were like really into the dream smp, and we had this bit where I pretended to hate it. I would also purposely know as little bit about it as possible, guess what smp could possibly stand for and purposely mix up the names of guys I knew just to get them riled up. It was the night of January something, I don’t remember when, but the lore that night was dream going to jail and that whole shebang. Something snapped in me and I texted a close friend. “ive been trying to convince them that the dsmp sucks….they won’t believe it unless its from the inside. I just don’t like it and there’s no way to convince them that it’s bad…unlesss…” my friend was like hm okay [name] but it was too late. I had committed. I threw myself in! The dream smp is very unapproachab… All the lore, everything, especially at that point in the timeline. My solution to that was to do everything. Every morning I would wake up about an hour before I had to log into online classes and spend the whole time watching dsmp animatics. Sadist, mother mother, derivikat, ycgma, I watched them all. It was confusing at first, sure, but every time I was confused about something I would check the wiki And go down a rabbit hole. to keep up with the lore as it happened I had the google doc. Then 80 pages long, it listed everything from the beginning. Last time I checked on it, it was more than 150. i made myself a twitch account and subscribed to every big name I could think of, and when I had a free moment I would tune into whatever stream was going on. There always was one. I distinctly remember the first one I ever watched, it was tommyinnit on a fetch quest to build the big innit hotel. I was intrigued. I should probably mention a few things, one being that I’d never really gotten into Minecraft as a game. I’d only played it a handfull of times and wasnt too familiar with the mechanics. The next one is that I kept up the ruse. Every time one of my friends brought up Wilbur soot or whoever else, I would fake anger. not all of it was fake. I was genuinely sick of hearing about these men. the real thing I was faking was not knowing what they were talking about. I felt conflicted, sometimes. Was i not just as bad as them? I reassured myself. No, my appreciation was ironic. I wasn’t obsessed, and was perfectly normal. This was just a bit. A prank. I was just committed. Over the course of a few week (me doing the above every day!) I formed my own opinions on the characters, even favs. I wouldn’t call them comfort characters, but there was something familiar about sitting down at the end of a long school day to watch a compilation of ghostbur clips, or that same american pie animatic that I assured myself i only liked because of the song. i was in deep, and it began to show. My friend was on mcyt twt, and I got an idea, a prank within a prank if you will. I made a fake Wilbur soot stan account to follow her and become mutuals, but she realized within a few minute. subtlety has never been my strong suit. was she suspicious, even then? she would watch streams while on FaceTime with me, and I would make fun while secretly trying to hear what was going on. i felt like I was unraveling. my friends would make jokes that I shouldn’t have been able to understand, and I would struggle not to laugh or even join in. Do you remember the origin friend who I had told my plan? i think she knew something was up, by how often I would chat with her about things. it’s said that parasocial relationships can be negative, and I guess that’s what I had with dream. the whole gang, really. At the same time, it was more. from the beginning I hadn’t just watched lore bits, it had been out of character bits too. I just was too lazy to filter my experience. It would be the occasional tommy vlog, or just an animated interaction between cc’s. It was enough, though. I knew these people and this lore better than many a person who would consider themself a fan, and I wasn’t too happy about it. Something needed to give. I proposed

to my friends, as subtly as I could. ”Why not have a PowerPoint night?” By this point, a month and a half or maybe two had passed since I started this whole cursed project. I just wanted to rid myself of it. I quickly pulled together a powerpoint on why I hated the dsmp, complete with evidence and everything. it was funny, but hardly worth it. As I typed, I realized something horrifying. I knew too much. the bit wasn’t funny anymore. when I wrote out two paragraphs about not liking technoblade character, my friends werent the punchline, I was. I quickly deleted. I put the barebones of learning about the dreams smp without them knowing, but nothing too revealing. They had to know, but not too much. powerpoint night, I had a pounding headache. My best friend was late, I didn’t know where she was. I couldn’t give the PowerPoint without her. I had been hyping everyone up about some mind blowing slideshow for weeks, and i was the last to go. I ended up giving it without my best friend, who I had been lying to. I stumbled on my words, I could barely get through without laughing. Or was it choking? The laughing was uproarious; was it at me? My friend came, and I had to start over. She giggled. I went to bed to the deepest sleep of my life. From there, things started to heal. I could finally make those jokes I was talking about, as long as i didn’t let too much slip. I slowly waned off the animatics, though far later than I’d like to admit. My friends‘ interest died off, and we moved on to other things.( Last I remember keeping up with the lore, technoblade was in jail.) I think things are better now, but I still think about that period freuquentl, even with a little nostalgia. I know years from now I will consider that phase an important part of my growth during this year, even if I can’t tell anyone else. And that’s what really kills me. I can’t let anyone know. My friend who knew since the beginning, I think she suspected. But well, none of them will every know how deeply and truly I became an mcyt stan.

i thought tumblr had a character limit for asks.

#worst of mcytblrconfessions #smp: dream smp #confession #if i was a therapist and u were on my couch i’d be taking notes everytime u opened ur mouth btw

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jinxhallows · 2 years ago

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Uninvited [ Part X ]

Uninvited. a short-ish series ft. Felix, Chan and Hyunjin (& a sprinkle of Jisung for a little razzle dazzle)

cw: 100% AU, afab reader, blood and gore descriptions, ritual self-bloodletting, supernatural creature themes/tropes, vampire theme/tropes, hybrid theme/tropes.

word count: 4.4k

part one -> click here

part two -> click here

part three (explicit content) -> click here

part four -> click here

part five (explicit content) -> click here

part six -> click here

part seven -> click here

part eight -> click here

part nine -> click here

-----

**taglist <3 (If I missed anyone let me know! it wasnt on purpose i tried to comb all my posts and make sure )

@planetdemon ; @a-person-with-void ; @haleyms ; @wonhottcakes ; @hydroyaksha ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @sooinvu ; @ninjaleeknow ; @thegoddessharmony ; @kittycatkrissa ; @ominous-crow ;

——–

Part Ten

Little witch…

A cramp in your stomach causes your body to lurch forward with a gasp.

Jisung is beside you, holding a makeshift torch in his hand. You look around, beyond where you sat, and you can see nothing but surrounding vast, dark woods. Albeit, vibrantly.

The only source of light is from Jisung’s flame.

“I didn’t think you’d make it here.” He finally speaks breathlessly, a look of deep concern settling into his round features. Jisung stands to his feet and offers you his hand, helping you back up to your feet once more.

“Make it—where?” You look around, still grimacing from the cramps.

Were you doomed to this kind of pain in the afterlife too?

The afterlife.

Everything sweeps over you, and you look Jisung up and down in disbelief.

“He did the spell...I-I died…in Felix’s arms, why—why are you here?”

Jisung shrugs apathetically. “Ancient magick is unstable, and we don’t have any elders left to show us how to do things the right way all the time.” He holds up his torch in the darkness, surveying the surroundings you two were stranded in.

Jisung had been in these strange and complex pockets of alternate dimensions on more than one unfortunate occasion. Life and Death was nothing to toy around with. He learned at a young age how fragile the glass was between these worlds, and jumping back and forth between them could send a nasty crack spiraling open. It took great skill, great patience and resourcefulness to bring yourself back to full form, without any errors. Jisung’s parents called it “playing God”, and it could be done, but not without a great sacrifice. When his ancestors passed in their old age, they refused to return, instead, lending their ancient power to the next of kin.

Once it funneled down into Jisung, he found himself wielding a power beyond his wildest expectation. He was sick for nearly a year in a coma the moment he set foot into his teenage years. When he finally came to in the Intensive Care Unit, he knew how to conjure things the old Jisung could not wrap his mind around– and he could manifest his magick in ways that astonished his parents.

Jisung had to learn to remain in control of himself every waking moment and ended up spending more of his childhood on discipline than being a normal teenager.

It was something in his childhood that he held in common with Chan, and was a reason why they had become such good friends throughout working alongside one another.

So, yeah, he could bring himself back from death with little to spare; but bringing himself and another? Without clear-cut help from the other side? For the first time, Jisung felt sincere…doubt.

He wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not like this.

“Edith was already resurrected, I guess we were too late…it took two sacrifices, and I don’t even know if it worked.” Jisung sighs. “I was doing well, going on 90 years death free. Fuckin’ bitch.”

He notices you as you stumble against a nearby tree, feeling more pain, unable to focus on anything he was rambling on about.

“Little witch? Whoa whoa—“he catches you, helping you to stabilize once more. “What’s wrong?”

You take in a deep, painful breath. “My stomach is like…killing me Jisung. I can barely see straight.” The ache gets worse, making you fall to your knees and start to dry heave.

“Shit.” He mutters. Jisung thinks quickly, setting the torch between the nook of the low set branches in the nearby tree before he drops down beside you. His touch is not comforting for reasons you don't seem to understand, and you look over at him, trying to manage a way to express it.

Jisung falls back from you once your eyes meet…crawling away slowly as he holds his hand up.

“Stay there, little witch, don’t move— “

You don’t know what he’s talking about, you’re in pain and now growing alarmed at his sudden yield. You crawl towards him, but Jisung shakes his head, gives you a soft ‘i'm sorry’ before he speaks words in a foreign tongue and you blackout.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“You can’t seriously trust this girl?”

“I don’t but do you have any other witches on hand before time runs out? If we don’t consecrate them by Dawn, we will lose every chance at bringing them back.” Felix explains to his brother.

Chan was being understandably difficult. He didn’t want to consecrate your body; he didn’t want to accept you were even gone.

Surely it was his fault.

He knew this.

He allowed himself to develop a weakness for you that he never saw coming. Here, he had allowed history to indeed, repeat itself once more.

If he had not become consumed with bloodlust; he could have stopped the spell from happening. Edith would have been back, sure, but Chan always could figure out a solution, and he would have found a way to kill her for eternity and do so while his brothers and you both remained alive.

Jisung would’ve remained alive.

Chan’s body had gone through cycles of tears that made his throat ache; and pure, silent disassociation throughout the night prior when they first brought you and Jisung's bodies back to the estate.

Chan proceeded to not sleep at all during the following day, rendering him weaker than usual, and when night fell once more, the time to consecrate drew near, and he feared having to face another dark reality.

Chan was all cleaned up; twice over now. He was dressed in a black short sleeved shirt, fitted to his handsome figure and tucked into his black slacks which were secured by an awfully expensive belt with a square gold buckle. A black leather watch with a gold face perfectly wraps around his right wrist, and a collection of black rings decorate his left hand. Chan doesn’t care much about his dark indigo hair, clean but lazily blown out and styled, he fingers through it to push it over to the side how you had seemed to like it. If he was going to see you one last time, for an exceedingly long time, he was going to look his very best for you. Felix steps into the living room alongside the blonde-haired witch from the shop, Emily. Chan spots them in the mirror he’s positioned in front of. Disapproving eyes scan the girl in the mirror and his expression hasn’t a hint of compassion in it.

Quite different from the flirtatious gentleman that had graced her during his attempted infiltration.

Chan looks down and sighs before he turns around and directs his eye contact to his snow haired younger brother.

“Shall we begin?” He says, walking past the two hastily, making his way outside to where Hyunjin stood with the two bodies, wrapped in cloth and both resting on wooden tables outside in the fields.

Chan wordlessly ducks under the plum tree before he stands in front of the body, both of his hands clasped together in front of his torso, expression unreadable and blank.

Hyunjin carefully observes his brother’s attempt at holding it together for a few brief seconds before he decides to speak up.

“We’re going to bring them back brother. And it won’t take a millennium.” He says confidently.

Chan’s eyes flit up from the bodies to Hyunjin. He watches the flame that burns on the fire dance in his scarlet haired brother’s eyes.

“The fire in your eyes…it’s from the flame we’ve set tonight brother but—the flame that’s been in your eyes since you were born, that’s what I see when I look at you Hyunjin.” Chan looks back down at the fire yet again. He believes his younger brother's words.

“You survived a hell I’ve never known, and you have a resilience I’ll never comprehend, so brother,” He tilts his head, focusing on the flames,

“I know we will.”

Felix and Emily join the elder brothers outside. Chan doesn’t move much, in fact, he remains eerily still; his brown eyes, like those of a predator, begin shifting to olive, and to amber as he keeps steady watch on Emily while she whispers foreign tongues over Jisung’s body, and then yours, while anointing you both with herbs steeped in oils that spill from a golden goblet. It's engraved with intricate depictions of war and resurrection. Her pale fingers cover most of it, but Chan had lived long enough to understand hieroglyphic-like imagery.

He’s waiting to hear her heartbeat spike before she tries anything, he’s listening to the way blood moves through her circulatory system, he’s preparing to smell the fear increase in her.

Why would the witch who had led him into a trap so he could be killed by her family, suddenly decide she wanted to be helpful?

What did she gain from this?

“Felix, could you, maybe help me out?” Emily turns to the freckled vampire, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. Felix had been quiet for some time now. He joins her side as they stand over your body. His hand rests on the small of her back as they speak in hushed whispers.

Chan crosses his arms as he rolls his eyes, looking over at Hyunjin, who meets it with a similar sentiment before the red-haired vampire draws his lower lip in between his teeth to stop from smiling.

“Something wrong?” Felix quietly asks Emily, noticing her hesitation over your body, the uncertainty in her eyes. Unfortunately, there was no time for such a pause. He speaks again, “You know we have to get this done soon. If we’re to have any chance at bringing them back–”

“That’s just it, Felix.” Emily shifts uncomfortably, looking down at her goblet. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I can practically feel your brother waiting to kill me if I mess up and…something's wrong, and I don’t know what to do. They’re both not…gone. Not yet. There's something...tethering them–”

“'Something’s wrong?' What do you mean 'something’s wrong?'” Chan’s hybrid hearing doesn’t let anything slip past, and he’s approaching your body, splitting up Felix and Emily by merging between them.

There would be no secrets held here tonight.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t even realize you’ve blacked out until you see the world above you fade back into focus.

Your head feels heavy, as if you were knocked out. Were you knocked out? Had Jisung hexed you? You don’t feel any more pain, instead, your stomach just grumbles a little.

You realize you’re on the cold ground as you dust your hands off and come up to your feet. Its the same spot where Jisung left you earlier. He looked…panicked. Where could he have gone in these woods? It was dark all around you, and no stars in the sky above.

In fact, it was so dark, you weren’t sure how you were still able to make out the shapes of the trees and their intricate branches.

“JISUNG!” You call out, looking around you at the endless darkness. You breathe heavily, waiting to hear a reply.

“JISUNG!” You yell again, beginning to feel uneasy.

As if someone is holding the scent right under your nose, a sweet, floral and berry smell wafts by. You move so quick, too quick, to turn around; and you stumble over your feet from a thick chain that’s been lasso’d around your throat. You're yanked down onto your back, your head slams against the dirt. Your vision hazes in and out as someone hovers over you.

When you realize it's not Jisung, you try to sit up, but are instead violently pulled down once more. Frustration fills you until you feel an object, hard and sharp pierce the skin of your chest, causing you great pain.

“Hey. Don’t kill her.”

“You said she was turning, didn’t you?”

Jisung’s voice helps you to concentrate a little more on what’s going on. You manage to lift your head enough to see him, holding the torch that was providing the illumination around you. He stands a few feet away, looking between you and the woman above you.

“No, I said I don’t know what’s going on and she could be turning.” He replies sharply. “Take the fucking stake out of her chest, Amelia. I won’t ask twice.”

You weren't used to hearing such hostility in Jisung's tone. It nearly rendered his voice unrecognizable.

“Ame–lia?” You choke out. The pressure and sharp pain is lifted from your chest, and you cough, sitting up and feeling the rusted iron chain around your neck; you curl your fingers around it as you lift it so you can take in a deep breath.

“Jisung. Explain. Now.” You pant, looking at him with a fierce gaze. He takes a step, hesitates, and then decides to come over and kneel beside you. Amelia, with a thick, long crown of curly haired and smudged blood and dirt over her ripped shirt and pants, stands over you two, keeping a watchful eye, fingers wrapped tightly around the wooden stake in her hand. Her dark brows are furrowed, but she also looks concerned.

“Earlier, you, didn’t look like yourself…when you looked at me, your eyes…they reminded me of Chan right before he…turns.” Jisung’s eyes bounce over you, down your body and back up to your eyes. “But now…” his voice trails as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“You look…normal, I don’t–I don’t understand.” His hand lays on your shoulder. Silence passes between you two as you look at one another, lost for words.

“I do.” Amelia’s voice breaks the silence as she holds the stake to the bloodied hole in your shirt where she nearly pierced you moments earlier. You hold your breath, expecting another pinch, when instead, she pulls the hole open more to expose the wound.

Or rather, the lack of one.

The sinewy fibers of muscle and skin were slowly beginning to weave themselves together again. It was gradual, but happening in front of your own eyes.

You and Jisung look up to her. Amelia sets the stake down on the ground gently, and you notice her eyes wellling with tears. She sniffs and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand as she crouches next to you.

“She’s pregnant.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“Christophe, stop–”

Chan’s fingers release Emily’s throat and she falls to the ground, gasping for air.

“Brother, a minute, please?” Hyunjin asks in a strained voice as he jerks his head to the treeline of the forest before disappearing into it. Chan’s fist curls at his side as his jaw flexes in barely contained hostility. He turns to Felix as he points to Emily.

“Finish the ceremony or I will hang her skin from your bed frame.”

His nostrils flare briefly, and he turns on his heels and is gone in a blur after Hyunjin. Chan catches up with his younger brother amongst the maple and pine trees. Hyunjin is leaning his back against a thick tree trunk, arms crossed over his chest. He wears a white V-neck and dark jeans. His silken, cherry hair is pulled into a ponytail, with wild ruby strands framing his beautiful porcelain face. He looks vastly different from the savage Hyunjin that was trapped in purgatory for a millenia.

“The pretty witch was an anomaly, you know this Christophe, what if–what if Emily’s right?”

Chan is pacing, albeit slowly between two large trees.

“She’s fucking lying brother. She’s lying Little witch, she’s a–threat to Emily’s entire family for siding with us and bringing you back. They probably told her to say this–”

“But what if…she’s right?” Hyunjin calmly repeats, voice airy and soft. Chan’s pacing takes pause, but he doesn’t look up, not yet.

“What if we move too hastily and actually kill her? If there is a chance she’s alive, like I was, then she’s in there fighting for her life right now to get back here, to get back to you. And there’s a good chance Jisung is right alongside her…which means, he’s not gone yet either.”

Hyunjin’s logic is sound, and his experience speaks volumes over it. Usually, Felix was the voice of reason, but in most cases, Hyunjin was always the one that could get through to Chan the quickest.

“There’s no pulse in either one of them.” Chan says, and for the first time, Hyunjin finally hears just how broken he truly was.

“I know.” Hyunjin’s voice settles over Chan like a warm blanket. Hyunjin doesn’t provide answers he isn’t certain of, but he actively acknowledges the pain his brother was experiencing. Hyunjin pushes himself from the tree and rests his large hands on the shoulders of his elder brother. Chan stares off to the left, trying, once more, to hold it together.

“There’s…no...pulse…” Chan repeats, as thick tears stir in his eyes and spill over the edges. Saying it aloud is breaking his heart all over again. When his chest begins to take staggered sobs that he holds firmly onto, Hyunjin pulls him into a deep embrace, hugging his brother tight.

“It’s okay to not be okay, brother.” The younger vampire speaks delicately to Chan’s brokenness. He pulls back from the hug, and their foreheads press together. Chan’s face is streaked with the tears of his mourning; Hyunjin’s eyes shine with tears of his own, held back. He was better at disguising his emotion than Chan. Hyunjin's hands cup around the back of Chan’s neck as he sniffs back any further weeps, his gaze growing darker, more deviant, unhinged.

“But it is not okay to let that cloud your sensibility. I want to kill the witch too, you see, but we hear her out first. She’s more useful to us alive, especially if her family comes looking for her. Be patient, brother. You will have your revenge.”

“But Felix–” Chan stares back at his brother, tempted by the malice in his tone. It was something Chan had grown to hate about himself. Somewhere, inside of him, there lay at rest, a monster. Something rooted deep within him loved the idea of bringing harm to others who had wronged him. It felt too good afterwards. But he forced himself to let it go, to create as much peace as he could gather, to become a leader not by fear, but by true admiration of character.

Chan had grown to put that part of himself away for many, many years, but now that Hyunjin was back…well...the younger sibling knew just how to bring it back out of him.

“Felix let Amelia die in your arms so he could sire her for his own use.” Hyunjin steps back, allowing his words to take effect.

Chan shakes his head. “What he did was, it was a mistake but–that’s our brother-”

“That’s the truth, Christophe.”

Emily and Felix are soon reunited with the other brothers as they emerge from the tree line. Chan strides over to Emily and squats down in front of her, his hands held together, elbow resting on his thigh. She stares at him, ready to flinch, to react, anything.

Then, the sapphire haired hybrid finally breaks the ominous silence as he extends his hand to help her stand to her feet.

“Tell me exactly what you need to bring my little witch and my bestfriend back.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Jisung sits in front of you on the ground. His hand rests over his mouth as he leans on his thigh and stares off into the wilderness. His brain is calculating, thinking, and processing. He looks focused, dark hair falling over his creased brows. There isn’t a hint of lightheartedness about him in this moment and you realize—this was an ultimate test of Jisung's strength.

“How long has it been since you’ve died?” You ask, breaking his focus as he glances up at you. His expression softens and his eyes drop back down to his lap as he sighs.

“90 years.” He murmurs, rubbing tiny pebbles from the ground between his fingertips. “It’s tough...ya’know? Humans are so...fragile.”

“So... why haven’t you ever asked Felix or Chan to turn you?”

He answers you with a light chuckle, a brief puff of air leaving his nose as he draws the corner of his mouth up into a crooked smile.

“Because I am a Han.” He picks up a lone pebble and tosses it into the darkness. “My blood, it can’t take the transformation. Too much...” he waits to find the right word, “...power. And really if I’m bein’ honest--” Jisung takes a deep breath in before blowing it out.

“Every time I come back; I feel myself getting weaker. Those hybrids and witches back at the warehouse? 90 years ago, they wouldn’t have made it past the doorframe.” He meddles with the soil in front of him once more, the curtains of his satin, ebony locks drawing the conversation to a close.

You don’t speak for a long while, a few minutes that feel like hours.

“I felt weird at the graveyard, like I could feel my body almost...vibrating when danger was close. Then…when I…went into the tomb I could…feel him, I could feel Chan down there even though I had no idea where he was. That wasn’t me…was it?” You finally break your long, fixed stare from the ground and look at Amelia, who was now seated on a nearby fallen tree log. It was chilly, dark, and wet, and Jisung had managed to start a fire, which was also a good sign–he still had some ability to conjure.

“It’s not like that…you’re still–you but enhanced.” Amelia explains, her right knee hugged to her chest as her left leg hangs loosely over the edge of the log.

She lay her cheek on her kneecap as she fixes her eyes onto the fire.

“So, I’m not a vampire then?” You ask.

Amelia sighs. “Not vampire, wolf, nor hybrid or witch. Until you give birth, you will carry the traits of all four. It will change the way you conjure; you will have fainting spells and grow dangerously weak if you do not feed when the moon is full.” She tosses a stray branch into the fire, and it licks higher to the sky.

“Tis no simple task for a woman to bear, being impregnated by a hybrid and carrying his unborn to full term.”

Jisung turns over a smooth rock in his fingers. “But you did it.” He adds in your defense, looking across the fire to Amelia.

“I was murdered by my own people for it. They knew I carried a child with extraordinary gifts. This will make you a target. It was irresponsible of Christophe to even allow this to happen again.” She lets out a deep breath before dropping her knee, finally leaning closer to the fire.

“You are of my bloodline; we cannot allow something like this to happen again;. Being here too long will do us more harm than good. We are no longer the only ones who know of this.”

“What do you mean? Who else is here?” Jisung quips aloud.

“Are you a fool?! My mother was cast back here when Hyunjin was split from her, I sent her back with my own hands. A witch of the Pavo coven birthing a hybrid is a beacon in here, I’ve told you this!”

You feel your eyebrows drawing together as you look over at her. “If this baby is tethering me to the real world, then how do we get out of here?”

Amelia shakes her head, “We are not getting out of anything. With great luck, maybe you can, and with even greater luck, Jisung can hitch a ride, but I am dead, and I have been dead for a long while. My soul will shred if I pass back over.”

“Is this where you came in?” Amelia asks, getting to her feet and looking up at the skies above the trees that eternally stretched upwards.

Jisung stands up and dusts himself off as he nods. “We’ll need a few things.”

“I have a cabin a couple of miles away; it should have everything you need.”

A howl pierces the dead of night around you, and the three of you freeze.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck begin to rise.

“Go, go, now!” Amelia breaks off into a run in the direction of her cabin. Jisung follows close behind and so do you, until you feel like you are approaching danger.

“Stop!” You yell, breathing heavy. “Not that way!”

Amelia nods in understanding of your warning, but before you can reroute, Jisung is taken down by a snapping, snarling blur of black fur. Amelia’s arm extends in front of you to prevent your reflexive foolishness from jumping in without warning, and with a curl of her fingers into a tight fist, the bones of the wolf crack as it gives one, single yelp and collapses.

Face blown with shock, Jisung sits up, touching his intact chest and neck before looking at the scratches and blood on his hands.

A chorus of wolf yodels and calls begin to sound off, and there is no longer any more time to waste. You look around, whipping your head back and forth, focusing on which direction smelled the clearest.

“Eucalyptus...” You take in a big breath. “I don’t understand--”

Amelia takes a step forward with certainty as she declares,

“My garden! Follow it!”

----------------------------------------------------------------

“So you want me to believe, that an elementary witch, can open a makeshift gate to the afterlife? But to do it, all three of us have to be totally incapacitated so she can channel our power?” Chan grows more frustrated by the minute.

Before, he would’ve done anything to prolong having to give you your final farewell; but now it was late in the night, going on 3 in the morning, and within a couple of hours, Dawn would soon approach, and the opportunity would be gone.

“As far as I know from mother’s works, it sounds like the only option we have right now.” Felix explains, “Unless you have something better?”

Chan wants to speak but bites his tongue as he lifts a pointer finger to Felix, saying everything with the ferocity of the silence in his pissed off expression before he turns around and exhales, fingers gliding through wisps of his hair.

“I don’t care for this method either, no matter the accuracy.” Hyunjin adds, finger to his lips as he thinks.

“Try with Christophe and Felix, I’ll just standby.”

Felix shakes his head in immediate protest. “Hyunjin there are four points to the gate,” he proceeds to point to himself before he goes to each person standing around, “One, Two, Three, Four.”

“Damn it!” Chan shouts.

The eldest brother rarely does this, and the bass in his chest causes the other two to recoil from their debate.

Chan intertwines his fingers in a nest atop his sea of hair as he brings himself back from the edge of insanity before he walks up face to face with Emily.

Breath heavy with mixed emotion, the hybrid brings his wrist up to his mouth and breaks the skin with needlepoint canines, spilling his blood as he holds his wrist out and wipes the excess from his lips with the fingers of his free hand.

Emily scrambles to tear a piece of the cloth from around your body and Jisung's. Chan watches the baby witch as she kneels under his extended arm, catching the precious blood on the white cloth. It soaks into the fibers of the fabric instantly. She nods for Felix to approach next. He looks at Chan and they share an exchange of wordless eye contact that called for conversations to be held at a later time.

Felix gently punctures his wrist, a lot neater, perhaps due to the thinner build of his pureblood vampire teeth. Licking his lips, he clenches his fist, soaking the cloth with his own blood before he gives Emily a small, supportive smile and steps back.

“There is no witch worth my life.” Hyunjin speaks aloud, quite adamantly in fact.

He then takes a step forward.

“But I owe Jisung many a favor, I’ll consider this one of them.”

Hyunjin bites into the edge of his palm and holds it over the cloth innocently, but he jerks it back into his grip, sending Emily stumbling forward, just inches away from his face. Hyunjin's ice blue eyes could be both beautiful, and terrifying.

“I am not my brothers. Do keep this in mind, useless witch.”

227 notes · View notes

nikrangdan · 4 years ago

Text

lovestruck!enhypen x reader

pairing: lovestruck!enhypen x reader

genre: FLUFF fluff Fluff

description: how enhypen would be if they became lovestruck by the reader ☹️☹️ this is such an adorable request!!!! itll vary for each member ur relationships so you’ll either be strangers or already dating etc.

a/n: idk if all of them are lovestruck exactly bc i just got carried away with the fluff for some of them and idky maknae line revolves around sleeping BUT IDC sleepy!enhypen is the best 😁

———————

HEESEUNG

u worked at a pretty popular clothing store

and well well well heeseung had shown up dressed very much your style so u were like

Wow who is this guy....

he was alone just looking around

and there were like 10 other people in the store but u wanted to talk to him so bad so u went up like

“hi, welcome! are u finding everything okay?”

he was looking through a rack of shirts and turned around when he heard u but WOW

when this man turned around he looked even better in person u couldnt believe it 😫

BUT IT SEEMS HE FELT THE SAME BC U SWEAR HE BECAME SO FLUSTERED WHEN HE TURNED AROUND

his eyes got so wide u almost laughed it was so cute ☹️

he stuttered and was like “oh um im okay”

Aw man

but u said “okay then! let me know if you need any help finding anything or if u wanna use a dressing room!” and u sent him ur nicest smile u could give

his eyes were still kinda wide open and u gave him one last look before turning around😢😢

BUT THEN HE SAID SOMETHING

“w-wait! actually.. um....uh.. do u.. do u guys have sweatpants..?”

u giggled to urself on the inside bc u knew he just made that up on the spot

“we do! here, follow me”

while u were showing him the clothes u guys had exchanged names and had some small talk

and that was the start of something very Beautiful

and since then he has been coming almost everyday to visit u at work 🤗🤗

JAY

jay swore he found new things about u to love every single day

and today wasnt an exception!!!!

u knew jay had been really tired and just worn out from work recently so u had decided to make him his favorite meal for dinner

a nice little surprise for when he got home ❤️

and also the anime he was watching ready on the tv for u two to watch together :(

u had literally been preparing all day and u even decided to go out and buy dessert too

AWESOMEST PERSON EVER U ARE!

it was 8pm already and jay should be getting home now

u set the table all neatly and put on one of his sweaters

AND WOULD U LOOK AT THAT HE GOT HOME AS SOON AS U WERE DONE

Fate 🔥🔥

romantic stuff like this wasnt really ur forte so this was out of the normal for u

but u wanted to do something for jay because he did stuff like this for u alot

the table isnt in view when u walk into the apartment so he wasnt able to see his dinner yet

“hi” you smile brightly and go up to hug him and give him a little kiss

he had his bad slung over one of his shoulders and he was taking his shoes off in the doorway after he closed it

“hey.. it smells pretty good in here” he gave you a tired smile while one of his arms was wrapped around your waist

“really? it smells normal to me” you giggled before walking to the kitchen area together

he stopped and looked at u with LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES when he saw the table

jay: ❤️_❤️

“y/n..”

“surprise!!! you know im not good with words but i wanted to show you that i can cook” you laugh “and that i love you very much and im so proud of you”

jay doesnt say anything but instead drops his bag on the couch and gives u the Biggest Hug Ever

ur face is practically smushed in his chest and his hand is resting lovingly on ur hair :(((

he loves u so much im so sad

JAKE

“layla!!! layla where are you?” jake was yelling quite loudly in the massive park he was in the middle of

yeah jake lost layla.. uh oh

quite a coincidence you found the cutest dog you’d ever laid eyes on

and she seemed to love u very much

the dog had made u topple over and now she was excitedly playing with you while you were sat on the ground laughing to your hearts content

after a minute of playing you had got up because you knew she was somebodys lost dog and her owner was probably looking all over the park for her

“okay.. lets go find your owner before they have a heart attack” you giggle

just as you said that though, you heard a boys voice yell “LAYLA!!!!”

the dog next to you looked in his direction, tail wagging and tongue out, but she didnt move an inch from her spot next to you

it made me you laugh out loud

as you were watching the boy run up to you, you noticed how cute he actually was

Omg..... ur heart started beating a little faster

“hi..” the boy hunched over with his hands on his knees breathing very heavily “you have my dog”

“uh yeah” you laugh “sorry about that, she ran over to me a couple minutes ago and i was just about to go find her owner”

“its okay, thank you..” he trailed off to find out your name and finally looked up to meet your eyes

“y/n” you told him

“y/n” he repeated with a small grin on his face “im jake”

“hi jake” you lightheartedly give him your hand to shake and he chuckles before taking the offer

“and it was nice meeting you layla” you crouch down to meet her level and she licks your face making you fall on your butt

you laugh and jakes quick to help you up

“layla! thats not very nice” he jokingly scolds her and pets her head

after u got up u bid goodbye to the two before jake invited u to continue walking around the park AND HE EVEN BOUGHT U AN ICE CREAM

Is This A Date, Jake? 😫😫❤️❤️❤️❤️😳😛😛

SUNGHOON

“you should be more careful” you scold the boy sitting with you standing between his legs

sunghoon had apparently gotten elbowed in the face by his friend and scratched by his friends cat on accident????

“it wasn’t my fault! he turned around and i just happened to be in the way. and i didnt even do anything to the cat!” he whined

“i didnt say it was your fault. i said to be more careful.” you tried to sound stern

u knew ur logic was making no sense but u just thought it was so fun to mess with him

he let out a sigh and gave up, slouching over again

you were stood between his legs, wiping the blood away and applying ointment

“im just kidding, you’re so cute” one of your free hands comes up to rub his hair

a small grin pops up on his face and his arms come to rest on your waist

he looks up at you while you focus on tending to his wounds

and u guessed it WITH LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES

❤️_❤️

“you know y/n” he begins

you hum in response, letting him know you’re listening

“im gonna marry you one day”

you freeze in your place

it took you a minute to collect yourself because you felt like your heart almost leaped out of your chest

“who says?” you joke

he leans up to give you a quick kiss on the lips before sitting back down

“me.”

SUNOO

you noticed sunoo had been really tired lately and u just wanted to make him feel better :((

the boys were going out and invited you two obviously but you could tell sunoo was iffy about going

“uhh..” you trail off and look over at sunoo who was laying on the couch

“you know what guys? i think me and sunoo are gonna stay home today.. you guys have fun though!” you bid goodbye to the other boys and they all understood and left

you dont even know if sunoo knew they had left already because when you walked over to him his tired eyes were glued on the tv

“hey” you leaned against the couch and looked down at him

“y/n? are we going soon?” his eyes move to the top of his head to look up at you

you start laughing and he literally goes 🤨???

“silly, they already left! so what do you wanna do?” you plop down next to him and he was in the process of sitting up

“what? when did they leave...” his mouth drops open

“like 2 minutes ago” you giggle, leaning back to rest your head

sunoo had sat still, pondering for a moment

“why did they leave us?” he turned to look at you

your eyes met his “well i figured you didnt wanna go... you didnt, right?”

he slowly shakes his head “how did you know?”

you give him a sneaky smile and jokingly push his arm “because i know you so well”

he laughs at this and leans his head on your shoulder

“wow y/n.. im impressed” he grins, snuggling into your arm

your other arm crosses over to pat him on the head, leaning your head to rest on top of his

“but thank you y/n..” his eyes slowly close to rest “im thankful for all the little things you notice about me”

u literally go 🥺

your hand goes down to squeeze his and he falls asleep peacefully on ur shoulder ☹️☹️☹️❤️

JUNGWON

“y/n..what is that” jungwons eyes can barely open as he tries to comprehend whats going on while hes waking up

you haphazardly tap around the bedside table trying to turn off the new alarm you set last night

and that new alarm was jungwon singing 🤗

“its you, dummy” your eyes were still closed but you turned to face jungwon and snuggled closer to him

“wha- where did you even get that???” he was almost fully awake now, staring down at your half asleep figure

you yawned before answering in your i-just-woke-up-and-i-should-probably-drink-some-water voice “remember when you sang me to sleep last week? yeah i was secretly recording you. no biggie” you pat his chest twice and leave your hand there, content with life at the moment Lol

“y/nnnn” he whines “change ittt i dont like it”

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan, shocked he would say such a thing!!! “jungwon you sound like an angel threw up on a field of flowers full of puppies and kittens! okay thats kinda weird maybe not that”

jungwon giggles a little and sits up so he can sit against the headboard while your head rests on his lap

“you like my singing that much?” you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks you

you finally pop one eye open to look up at him, a goofy grin in your face

“i love your singing”

his hands run through your hair and you let out a sigh at the feeling

jungwon doesnt say anything

all he does is admire you

you can feel his eyes on you so you open your eyes again (both this time🙏🏼) and meet his eyes

“i can feel you staring straight into the depths of my soul, jungwon”

he laughs at this, bring his other hand up to pinch your cheek

“i’ll sing for you whenever you want me to y/n”

NI-KI

“shut up sunghoon, hes sleeping” you whisper-scolded the boy

ni-ki was currently asleep on you

literally SPRAWLED all over your body and you were basically mummified

by nishimura riki

his legs were tangled in yours, his head shoved into your neck, and his arms were bent around you in ways you didnt know were humanly possible

“you literally have an alien taking a nap on you y/n” sunghoon deadpans before walking out the room

“when you’re asleep sunghoon i will send you into a spacecraft for the rest of your life so you can go see aliens for yourself”

“wowww im so scared y/n” the boy remarks and shuts the door

you half laugh and half scoff before turning your attention back to the ipad screen sitting on the bed infront of you

well

kind of infront of you because ni-ki’s acrobatic position was basically blocking the view

you were having a decent time watching the show playing, definitely not the most comfortable person on the planet at the moment

until you felt the body on top of you.. rumble?

you knew that feeling

ni-ki was laughing

HOW and WHY the hell was he laughing ?!!?!!?!

“what the hell?” you look down at him and his face is shoved near your shoulder but you caught a glimpse of his big smile

his laughter gets louder and you still dont have answers yet

“why are you laughing???? i thought you were sleeping?????” you try to push him off you but he was persistent in laughing in your shoulder (??)

after a couple minutes of you just letting this happen

ni-ki finally speaks!

“you’re so funny y/n” he finally pulls away from you and wipes his tears

“what are you even talking about... and how long were you awake, you sneaky kid” you poke his chest

he leans down again to hug your waist and start cuddling you again

“10 minutes”

“so you’re telling me i could’ve freed myself from that god awful demon EMBRACE you had me in 10 minutes ago???!!”

ni-ki starts laughing again and looks up at you

“thank you for threatening to send sunghoon to aliens for me y/n” he grins

you laugh, finally understanding what the boy had been going on about

“sunghoon deserved it”

#enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen headcanons #jungwon imagines #heeseung imagines #sunghoon imagines #ni ki imagines #sunoo imagines #enhypen timestamps #enhypen imagine

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cynettic · 3 years ago

Text

Stay with Me pt.3

Summary - You manage to escape from Scaramouche, if only for a moment before you realize there’s no escape. It only takes until you’re sitting back in your regular spot that you know what you need to do.

Pairings - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of death, swearing, slight gore / blood

A/N - Its really hard to make this depressing while I’m vibing to Rasputin. Like no joke- I have it on one of the 1 hour playlists :D

Here you’ll find - pt.1 and pt.2

He’d left a key.

Scaramouche didnt make mistakes, not while he had you captive in the vicinity of his bedroom. He didnt have room for mistakes, not when you were watching his every movement while he was in your line of sight.

Sure, he mightve killed a person or two in front of you, but those were necessary mistakes. There was a sign on the door, it specified not to enter. You’d understand that, right?

Thats what he thought at least, lulling himself into belief after belief that you’d be there waiting for him every time. That you’d welcome him with open arms, even if there were chains ensnaring your wrists. That you’d accept your fate at his hands and submit yourself to him.

The Balladeer was a fool.

He’d kept you there for too long, and while you searched for an easy way to escape, time sent your head spinning. Into a spiral that begged only for the wind against your face, back laying on dirt with the familiar chirping up birds waking you up in the morning.

You wanted to go outside.

And when push comes to shove, you had to risk a little more to make it happen. Lure him into bed with kisses while your hands unbuttoned his vest. But what he believed to be alluring contacts was just your way of finding the keys hidden in the back pocket of his shorts.

It wasnt hard to find the one to your cuffs while he was asleep, cuddled in your chest with both arms around your waist as if to get you to stay put. You took the key, hiding them back in his clothing and hoping he didnt notice.

He didnt say anything the next day.

You werent going to wait any longer.

“Oh for fucks sake, why won't the goddamn door open?”

The room was left in tatters behind you, a little gift for Scaramouche once he got back. Turns out a pair of chains can smash up a lot of things, and rage can be used as a great source of strength when contained for such a long time.

But you’d done more than throw the blankets around, cut up the drawers and smash open the windows. Because your fists had bled red when you punched through the glass, puncturing your skin. Your knuckles were an ugly red, bruising already.

Ah, Scaramouche deserved a much better gift.

Gruesome as it was, you rubbed your knuckles against the pale walls. Till the blood stopped coming, till there was a nice little message for the boy which you held so dearly to your heart.

‘Balladeer.’

The first time you’d found out about him being a harbinger he’d told you not to call him by that name. You weren’t someone he associated with by work, you were a treasure to him. That’s why you continued to call him as he pleased, although the temptation always arose.

You were no longer his.

Shoving the door with your hand again, palm fiddling with the handle and groaning when it hardly budged. “Stupid,” you grumbled when the knob began to loosen. Backing up, you charged with your shoulder to the door, full force as the momentum broke the hinges. The door fell down with you along with it.

It was expected, you’d been stuck in the room for a long time, and thats considering you’d sat on the ground for decades. Your body was slight numb, muscles sore and unused for so long.

“You a-arent supposed to leave your room!”

A young man stood in the hallway along with a woman who looked relatively the same age. The two were wearing uniforms, flinching when you stood up from the debris and off the door. “Excuse me?” You asked, voice unnecessarily icy and stern. But you couldnt care less, you were going to get out of this house, damn anyone who stood in your way.

They both continued to shake when you walked towards them, staggering from side to side. The woman stepped up in front of the man, presenting a brave face. “If you leave the mansion, the harbinger will kill us all!”

“Well then I expect you should be on your way then. Actually…” you gestured to the maze of hallways. “You can lead the way.”

“What…?”

Your hand went limp to your side, an exasperated looking momentarily crossing your face before you sighed. “Im not staying trapped in that room, I’m sorry if that ruins your life, but frankly you're not the one stuck in there are you?” You took an extra step just to intimidate them, eyes wide to make the appearance of crazy. “It would be a great help if you showed me where he hid my vision too.”

“We can show you to the door…” The man began, “But the whereabouts of your vision are unknown, he wouldnt tell us something like that.”

A gift bestowed from the gods, a piece to help me thrive with my ambitions and pursue my goals.

Gone.

You really wished you’d taken to clawing out Scaramouche’s face instead, but you’d take what you got. Right now your main priority was getting out of this place, even if it meant leaving a piece of you behind.

“Door.” Your voice was raspy and there was a terrible feeling that crawled up to your throat, but you didnt have time to be emotional. “Show me where the door is… please.”

The conflict in their eyes dissipates by the time they lead you along, mumbling words between themselves. You didnt bother to try eavesdropping, you were so, so tired. You wanted to go home.

Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

It took a few minutes until you were standing in front of a grand door, almost twice the size of you and just as wide. You then began to notice the decorational plants and furniture that filled the empty space, there wasn't an inch of dust. Even though you could tell none of it was used.

“Hurry,” the man warned when you paused. “I dont know when our master is coming back, but if its soon, we’ll all be screwed.”

You couldnt feel your head as you numbly nodded, hand clenching the knob and flinging the set of doors open. “Thank you,” you merely mumbled, taking your first step out of the house in what felt like forever.

The days after that were a blur, the area around Scaramouche’s house were nothing but void. Empty and filled with forests and vast plains. You knew he didnt like people or socializing in general, but to this extent?

Your only option was to run.

Let your feet take you somewhere, anywhere. It was a constant pattern of running and taking breaks, leaning on a tree and gasping in a few breaths before you were again scurrying through the forest.

And yet you felt better than you’d felt in past months that you’d been stuck with Scaramouche.

Food became any boar you came across, the claws you’d spent so long hiding with Scaramouche coming to unleash a wrath beyond your comprehension. Till the animal was cut to shreds and no meat was left even to eat. You’d slaughtered it, without intention to eat or benefit for it, you’d killed it just to kill.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sobbed into the ground where you’d buried the harmless animal. Forehead pressed into the dirt as you pleaded for forgiveness to whatever archons would accept it. You couldn't even remember what archons you were supposed to pray to. “Forgive me- forgive me…”

But eventually you found your way around to somewhere you knew. Territory of Inazuma where you could find your way back, back home.

Where was home?

You’d been on the run from the vision hunt decree, abandoning your post for the Kitsune Saiguu for such a thing. Even now that you could return without a vision and as no threat under the decree…

You’d sacrificed everything for your vision.

Where were you to go now…?

Rain patted down, the trees providing only a slight cover as stray drops fell into your matted dirty hair. You didnt mind, it hid the tears that slid down your lifeless face, feet taking you into the far meadows of your hometown. Till you plopped down underneath a tree, knees curled to your chest and arms hugging them close. You were crying.

You were home.

____________________

“Awh,” a ginger haired murmured, elbow resting on the cool wood of the tabletop. “Is little Mouchie sad? I heard your kitty cat escaped~”

A death wish, even fatui that idly minded themselves around the bar knew it. Sipping cold drinks and swirling their cups, the soft chatter was nothing but a distraction from the main course of events. That being the smaller Harbinger who sat sulking in his seat, hunched over with a drink in hand. He’d drank far more than what was on the counter, but everytime he finished a glass, he’d smash it on the ground, watching the fragile glass shatter into pieces.

“I dont have a cat,'' was his only response, tone daring Childe to pursue further. To give him a reason to start throwing the glass in his face instead.

And Childe was an idiot when it came to challenging someone.

“No cat?” The rest of the drink in the taller harbinger’s glass was gone when he threw his head back. “Hmmm, I cant think of what else could’ve had you so enraptured in returning home then~!”

Scaramouche didnt respond, uneven bangs shadowing the bags under his eyes. “Stronger,” he said instead, elbow on the counter and hand outstretched for something. When there was no movement from the man managing the wine, the harbinger looked up. “I need something stronger to drink,” he repeated, voice seething.

“Of c-course!”

The glass was nestled in Scaramouche’s palm in no time, fingers curling around the circular form to down it in seconds. The drink merely slid down his throat in one movement, alcohol burning his senses. It didn’t matter, he was numbed by the growing rage inside of him.

Finally, he turned to the ginger haired boy, eyes hazily dancing along the counter till it reached his fingertips. Up his hand and along his arm, till Scaramouche was staring right into Childe’s eyes. “They escaped,” he admitted softly. “But it’s alright, because I sent something that’ll bring them back.”

Childe paused, raising his drink up away from his lips to pose a question. Hesitation danced along his features before he brought the glass back, he’d rather not provoke the shorter male any further. Wasn’t like he could interfere anyway.

____________________

“That… that…”

It was preposterous, having returned to that same spot for a day or two and heading back to the hometown you’d once lived in. The one Scaramouche had lived in. There shouldn’t have been an issue, you were solely gathering supplies for the sake of it, ambition driving you to travel far far away.

Out of Inazuma.

It was your new beginning, convincing yourself that you didn't need a vision. Finding some sort of purpose before Scaramouche shattered the vision and your life along with it. You’d seen how people had reacted when it had been ingrained in the statue, neutralized and broken. They lost hope, purpose and aspirations for anything new.

It’s not like the Raiden Shogun took my vision.

But you’d taken that fact for granted, expecting some sort of new start without Scaramouche. A victory, getting away from him just for a split second and getting out of Inazuma altogether, you’d never see him again.

Until you got his message.

“How the hell…” You crushed the note until it was just crumbled paper in your hand, slowly leaning on the stone wall. “Piece of shit… what kind of person even…”

Not only did he manage to find you, but without making his presence known, he’d tugged at your one weakness with an ease that had you down on your knees.

You threw the paper to the ground, deliberate as you stared past the alleyway. Pensive as you considered your options. Damn, what options did you even have? You’d been an idiot to underestimate Scaramouche, he wasn’t a child, you knew that… but archons he seemed like one when he was with you. Shown you a vulnerability he wanted only you to see. But maybe that had been part of his plan all along, until all you believed was his soft demeanor.

He may act like a child, but he’s a harbinger.

You stared down at the crumbled piece of paper in disgust.

Not only that, but he has no regard for human life.

Either way, you’d lived decades more than him. You could face him, you would present yourself to him just as he expected you to. Even when everything in you rejected the idea, sobbed at the thought of returning to that house, those chains. Being locked up and confined only for the purpose of coddling a small boy, a selfish boy, a cruel boy.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’d figure out a way, and this time you wouldn’t rule out the option of his death.

———————

Oh darling Y/n, how have you been?

I hope this letter reaches you rather soon, we both have much to discuss, no? About me, about you, and much more. You see, I’ve taken up quite a distaste to your little friends. Stone statues in Inazuma as small as Kitsunes truly hold no purpose, what will they do, come back to life? Haha, I should think not. I’ve already arranged to have them demolished, who knows what kind of material they might possess. Ah, and of course I’d show you the finishing product, unless you’re willing to come and have a chat with me once more? Under the Sakura tree like we used to, you’ve waited years, I believe you can wait for me?

I hope this letter reaches you in best interests. I’m always looking out for you after all.

Sincerely, your Balladeer

——————

It was raining.

Beautiful weather as you lay sitting there, feet crossed and tucked in the same you’d often do. After all, there was no need to fear the vision hunt decree or the Raiden Shogun. Let them come, let them take care of you before Scaramouche did.

You werent cold, not when the cold drops dampened your clothing, slipping down the length of your spine and drenching your face. Despite having lived in a luxury residency for such a long time, this was where you were most comfortable, enduring whatever the weather had for you, taking it with a smile. Because you were waiting…

The Kitsune Saiguu was a distant memory.

You were waiting for Scaramouche, the young boy that often bound into the field in lengthy strides, childlike wonder in his eyes. The one who’d cried when the other kids pushed him away, the one that just wanted to be praised. You’d held him in your arms, and now, even knowing the results, you wouldnt have done differently.

He was just a boy.

Just a boy when he joined the fatui, looking for praise that he was given. He created chaos and bellowed orders with a cruelty that was highly looked upon. Told that he was doing well, so he continued to do so.

He’s just a boy.

You wished you’d held him in your arms, if not only for a tad longer. Shield him away from the wrongness of the world, if only for one last time.

Banishing away your hatred for him was hard.

But you found it under the tree, rain soon dimming down to a clouded cold breeze that swept through the meadow. You’d hated him while stuck in the mansion, but you could now see it from a larger point of view. What he did was wrong of course, but you could remember him so vividly now. His small form giggling, tiny arms around your neck.

“Play with me!”

Was it your fault?

For not holding him tighter? For trying to rectify his bad doings and teach him what was wrong and right? Maybe if your grip was firmer, if you’d spoken to him about the warmth he’d given you that day when playing cards...

“Lazy ass.”

Burying down that pile of worry and insecurities, you took a deep breath in to relax. The edge of your lip perked up, only slightly. “Still terrible with your social skills arent you?”

Slowly securing a dry space under the three with you, Scaramouche sat down. His features were the same ones you’d grown accustomed to at his mansion. Rich clothes, sharp eyes, and the baby face that refused to go away. His movements were soft as he pulled out a deck of cards. The two of you didnt speak as he distributed them between you both. It was tense… no, it felt too much like the warmth form long ago to be tense. You only wished the situation to be different.

“I love you.”

But you could only offer a bitter smile to his words. “I love my vision,” you replied. “I love the Kitsune Saiguu, and I love my friends.”

His touch was gentle when his fingers came to gently cradle your cheek. Holding your face dearly as he peered into your eyes, his were soft. Different from the cruelty he held within, the hatred that burned and destruction that seeked to explode.

You saw a little boy.

Your hand came to press his hand further against your cheek, till you slid his palm to your lips. He appeared so calm when you pressed the first kiss, lips tracing the lines along his palm with all the care in the world.

But you needed to change your view, see him as the man he now was. As the man he had become.

“I love you,” he repeated, and you let go of his hand. It fell limp by his side, cards all but forgotten. There was a much more pressing matter at hand, because you truly needed to see him as he was.

It was necessary if you planned to kill him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact hc #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kitsune reader #yandere scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #reader x scaramouche #scaramouche angst #writing #angst

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