#Chip isn't a bad guy AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

husbandhoshi · 3 months

Text

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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pandenewie · 1 year

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Dress Coded Masterlist

SYNOPSIS:

Dress codes are dumb. And everyone in school agrees. So why is the dear student council president Yang Jungwon so insistent on upholding such a stupid rule? And why is Y/n so insistent on changing his mind?

Y/n finds a new way to break the dress code each day, purely to spite the student council president and make him change the stupid rule. But what started as a simple act of rebellion soon takes a turn as more is found out about the goody-two-shoes president.

PAIRING: jungwon x gn!reader

GENRE: nonidol!au, highschool!au, socialmedia!au, sorta fake dating (you'll see), mild enemies to lovers, fluff, suggestive, angst (light), cursing, attempted humour. Ft. Enhypen Ni-ki + Jay + Jake, P1Harmony Soul + Jongseob, Kep1er Bahiyyih + Hikaru (+ Youngeun mention), Le Sserafim Eunchae, IVE Wonyoung, ZB1 Ricky, Seventeen Wonwoo

**any pictures used of "yn" are for outfit descriptions only and do not represent yn's gender/race/physical appearance in any way :))**

STARTED: 08/04/23

FINISHED: 02/10/23

STATUS: completed

PROFILES:

Sk8ter Bois | H2hoes

CHAPTERS:

00 - The Dress Code | 0.3k words

01 - White Privilege

02 - Pu$$y Gang

03 - A Little Manipulation

04 - Manifesting

05 - when bae gets you in trouble | 1.9k words

06 - Shota's Minecraft Girlfriend

07 - It's my turn to use the braincell

08 - It's Giving Control Freak | 1.7k words

09 - Enemies 👹 to Enemies 😊

10 - Damage Control

11 - I have the mind of a mastermind

12 - Potato Chips | 1.8k words

13 - DRUGS?? 😱😱

14 - Real Men Clean Bathrooms | 2.4k words

15 - Dr Dilf

16 - L + Ratio + Y/n will never love you

17 - Stuco Rizz | 2.1k words

18 - From homies to nomies

19 - De-yassified

20 - Mama I'm in love with a criminal | 1.6k words

21 - Prison Wife Era

22 - Family Vacation | 2.9k words

23 - Please No Feelings | 2.5k words

24 - Trauma Bonded ❤ | 1.9k words

25 - BREAK HIS HEART ❗❗

26 - This wasn't part of the plan | 1.9k words

27 - Gold Star

28 - Good Boy Gone Bad ❌ Good Boy Gone Sad ✔

29 - If it isn't the consequences of my own actions

30 - No More Hobocore

31 - Somebody that you used to know | 1.2k words

32 - Jongseob Marriage Counsellor

33 - Cute, platonically

34 - Where we went wrong | 3.2k words

35 - Ronald McDonald if he slayed

36 - No More Mr Nice Guy

37 - It's Giving Grease | 3.0k words

38 - The Updated Dress Code | 0.5k words

39 - Do-over Date | 2.6k words

FINALE - #savejungwonfromyn

TAG LIST (closed): @kang-yeosangs-initials @kpopstanmeg @b1ndignity @soobiverse @dudufodd @mikadorbs @pagesofmiracles @tya0 @ilovewonyo @bringer-ofchaos @huening-ly @latriii @callmeblondie @run2min @straykids-riley (can't tag) @rikimylove @chaechae-23 @lacimolela @n1ght-maring (can't tag) @luvvsjungwonn @yenqa @tzuyusluv @viyqe @vocaloshin @deadgirlwalking3 @flamiricky @hanniesss @grayscorner @wonqr @neozon3nha @beomgyusonlywife @ahnneyong @lani-heart @jayujus @str4wb3rizz @yunwonie @danielleismyname @spilled-coffee-cup @jaylans-stuff @oceanmsxoxo @j-wyoung @mrowwww @lazy-miya @shinsou-rii @minkyungseokie @s7noo @beatr2x @thatoneembarrasingmoment @soobawrz

@miumiuoi @lucyinthesky-00 @wrapmeinatortilla

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sea-of-dust · 6 months

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WHHHAAAAAAAAA

Lyney,Venti,Hu Tao x Gn! Reader

summary: imagine getting spooked on Halloween and then they get spooked by a nightmare.

Notes: lyney...LYNEYYYYYY, I got my ass kicked by @nian-7 for an event. Don't question it please it's a horrible story. Modern au

Hehe~ FYM HEHE. The amount of TIMES this man has scared the hell out of u during October. Magic tricks, flying shopping lists you name it he's scared you with it.

He adores you don't get him wrong, but it's fun seeing your scared expression, watching you cover your face and quiver its cute! But he does wonder if you do get infuriated

You can tell when he thinks this, only three or two scares on days he doubts, 5 or 4 when he's feeling cheeky, and one because he's either planning a bigger scare that may cause you to verbally scream, or if he just wanted to give you a break.

You can't really get back at him for his antics he just smiles. "My such a small spider for someone as delicate as you to hold" he takes it and kisses your cheek. You tried every scare you knew on him only for him to just turn it into a flirtatious move.

And so your final scare...one you didn't even think would scare him. You got out of bed to get some water stumbling out while he twists and turns in bed searching for you with his eyes closed, when he tries to find you and fails his eyes shoot open. You lean down to get some water hearing heavy steps toward you, stoppping suddenly you notice his distressed face when as soon as he lays his eyes on you he nearly tackles you, not saying a word yet trying to hold back his sniffles. "You alright?" You hug him softly but he hugs you tighter.

Trying not to show you his face he burries it into your chest. "Lyney?" You wrap your arms around his waist bringing him closer, hearing him take a few small breaths before looking up at you as if that never happened. "Ah my darling y/n! I guarantee nothing is-" "bull" you point at his cheek "your make-ups a bit smudged" rubbing it a bit watching it smear "must have been a nightmare, lemme help you fix it"

You help him wipe off his make up watching him avoid eye contact a few times. "What was it about?" sighing you scoot closer cupping his cheeks, he doesn't answer looking down a few times. "And why do you wear make-up while you- that isn't important whatever it was im sure youll feel better after you sleep" as soon as you finish the small tear drop and put down the brush he mearly tackles you. "Thank you..."

He's gonna make you wanna rethink your life decisions. "Hey y/n wanna know what month it is" "God please just get him away from me" "hehe"

He likes smaller scares only small kisses or random taps sometimes a whisper behind your ear.

The worst he will use the wind to blow at your ear, and then you turn around and see he's not there only to pop up upfront of you.

Best part for him? He always gets to show affection while bullying you. His two favorite things ever

His favorite activity during this time is dragging you to Haunted houses. "AHHHHHH Y/N ITS SO SCARY LETS LEAVE!!" "We already paid" "BUT THE GHOST IS SO REAL LOOKING AAAA" "you can litterally see the paint chipping" "PROTECT MEEEEEE" you have to give him piggy back rides out still not believing he's scared of a little wooden cut out, atleast he got cuddled by you at home saying something along the lines of "I'll cover your eyes next time don't worry".

Fun fact he "totally" wasn't he had diluc vogue for him horribly. "He just wanted to have an excuse to hug you" "with the way he yelps? That guy's got a problem" "yea..." flawless convincing

He wakes up in the middle of the night because he had a bad dream. Definitely hugs the life outta you. Sometimes they aren't even that scary but he still hugs you he just looks for any excuse for a cuddle

If you ever scared him you might be able to get him to cry. Of course you don't push him to that point unless he deserves it for thinking hiding a realistic spider sticker in the bathroom is funny but that's another story there's always a simple "scary figure in the dark!" Tatic. He's always fallen for it and will get behind you seeing it

The worst scare however will always be...DIONA?? he sees her in his nightmares. Just thinking of sneezing so uncontrollably infront of you, he knows you knew about his allergy but he's just scared of embrassing himself just because of a cat bartender. He already sees her flexing her ability to bring him to his knees trying to show why you shouldn't be like him

Only time he screams when waking up and the only time he dosent cuddle you after a nightmare. He practically shakes you awake about it. "I know there's a bit of cat hair on me" "really?" "No I just wanted you to get so scared you fainted please go to bed" you grab his arm pulling him down "it'll be fine I'll be sure to keep cats away" toying with him a bit pulling him closer. "Please let's just sleep" he hugs you back suddenly softly falling asleep after

COME HERE!!! she's using that ghost to torture you into staying by her side even more during this time of jumpscarin people.

This is like free ads "what if we use this time to promote the coffins as decor?" "Wouldn't that result in backlash?" "Not if they're of lower quality" she's definitely putting them on sale

She loves this time of year so much she is more into making you shop with her and then scaring you.

Not only with her ghost but also with locations she walks with you to. "It's once said people have come here only to not make it out the other side!" "They're right there tho" you point at the line exiting next to you. "Shush lemme continue my legend"

She also likes you scaring her from behind but also just appearing from normal. "BOO!" "Oldest trick in the- WOUAGH" the ghost busting through her face suddenly as she gives the thing a high five. "Never do that again" "Doin it again!" "No!"

She will resort to using realistic looking monsters and bones. "Watch we'll scare away these kids!" "That's not the point" she shushes you quickly "who knows maybe they'll be too busy running away to even get any candy" "just don't take all the candy for yourself" "I won't after all you'll always be at the bottom of the bucket" you sigh harshly kissing her cheek "I hate your jokes so much"

You don't really try to scare her back knowing you can't top her in this department. So you just took em....even the horrendous petnames.

"Hey pookie" your eyes widen at that nickname. "No." "You know well enough it's dangerous to go alone~" "honey please stop trying to make me join your weird ghost hunting thing" "noooo come on its 50 percent off" "there wasn't a price anyway" you went into the mountains staying straight faced even when some of the scares got you, thank God for your ability to appear as if you don't care.

She goes to sleep at night happy she got to bully you, until that nightmare hit her like a truck, her eyes shoot open as she slowly scoots over to you wrapping her arms around you. "You wouldn't right?" She blows near your ear. "You wouldn't..." she lays as close to you as physically possible

She'd fall asleep soon after and then wake up with a "WOAAOAOAAOAOA" "huh?" "YOU" she covers her face inching away. "I what?" You could feel your eye bags get darker so you turn around and try to go back to sleep, unfortunately she gets all up in your face "you didn't really say you wouldnt love me if i didnt exist" "WHAT?!?" You wake up fully at her statement turning quickly toward her. "YOU DID IN MY DREAM!" "WELL DREAM ME CAN FLY OFF SOMEWHERE AND NEVER COME BACK!!" You hug her tightly "I would love you if you didn't exist, you mean alot to me even if you're horrid this time of year" placing a small kiss on her cheek you go back to sleep rather quickly. Doesn't stop her from clinging onto you like a stuffed toy. She'll be enjoying playing with your hair for the next few minutes before she falls asleep aswell

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guava-enjoyer · 6 months

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Inazuma School AU Headcanons!

Featuring: Itto and Ayato (separately)

Summary: What are Inazuman characters like in school...as your lover!

Genre: fluff, crack

Warnings: implied fem!reader, inconsistent captalization, probably ooc because I haven't played in so long 😭, bad music taste

A/N: HELP this is my first time actually writing (finishing) a fanfic!!! If you happen to be reading this for whatever reason, just know that I take requests! I write for genshin and bsd right now. no smut!!! only fluff!!!

Arataki Itto

where do i even start 😭

all the teachers HATE him because he never shuts up 💀

we all know that he is just naturally a menace (he's actually sweet i swear)

Itto is definitely playing a sport because he's so competitive. he's SUPER tall, so I'd say he's great at basketball. idk let your imagination run wild 😍

he'd blow a kiss to you every time he scores. its embarrassing, but you love him so it's okay.

i have two words: touchy-feely

he LOVES having an arm over your shoulder.

gives you questionable pet names

"hi my little sugar munchkin pookie bear 😘"

...ANYWAYS, he would definitely beetle fight you and gets salty after you obliterate him

"IMPOSSIBLE" *table flip*

okay enough silly i need to focus

he would listen to chill rock music. he'll give you an earbud and just chill with you, especially after his basketball practice or games

he would be failing all of his classes if it wasn't for you forcing him to study. he also needs decent grades to stay on the sports team so

"so, if you just subtract x here- are you even listening?????"

"huh?" *smack* "OW"

0/10 worst student

if you hang out with the Arataki Gang, even better! when you all eat lunch together, it can be chill

OR it can be pure chaos

"GIVE ME BACK MY POTATO CHIPS"

"NUH-UH"

y'all would definitely make fun of people. i can just imagine Itto ranting about how "Kujou KFC Sara" was being a bastard

"that stupid chicken thinks she's stronger than me!" (she is)

ok so far i've portrayed him as a menace but deep down he's a kind lil' muffin

he always makes sure you're not upset with his jokes, he would even offer you some of his lunch if you look sad!

he would go to energetic atmospheres for dates. to be honest, any atmosphere is energetic the moment he walks in.

ok but he would absolutely LOVE going to theme parks with you. he'd go on roller coasters with you and scream through the whole thing

if you don't like roller coasters, that's okay! he's still drag you around to do literally everything else in the theme park.

overall 7/10 chaotic but loveable

Kamisato Ayato

(i have no idea what song suits him 😭)

he's like the rich and talented kid

he shows up to school in this really fancy car with a chauffeur and shit

straight A student, gifted, yk the whole package

Let's assume that he is the President of student government or council or whatever because... its Ayato what do you expect

teachers absolutely ADORE him

he'd definitely tutor you if you needed it but don't expect him to be a ray of sunshine

he loves you, but that only makes him even more insufferable 🥰

but like actually, he'd be so sweet. he's the kind of guy to bask in the little things.

i bet his love language is quality time. just being around you makes him melt internally

expect quiet dates. studying, libraries, cafes, etc. he LOVES THEM

he probably isn't big on PDA but still loves holding your hand. when you're alone, he loves having an arm around you. he just finds so much comfort in you <33

He also shows his love through nonstop teasing. It's a blessing and a curse.

"oh, aren't you cute today~"

right after you tripped and spilled coffee (or whatever else) all over yourself 😐

at least he gets you out of trouble 🤷‍♀️

he would also buy you expensive stuff. he's rich, remember?

like randomly he'll just walk up to you with designer jewelry or something

"...how much did this cost?"

"don't worry about it 😇"

and don't even try turning it down. he will find a way.

aside from all that, he definitely eats lunch in the library with you and/or Thoma and Ayaka

he'll force you to try his terrible food combinations 😭

"c'mon, just one bite. please?"

"...are you trying to poison me?"

he's not much of a sport person. with his upbringing, he might play an instrument. pianist Ayato anyone?? 😍

you'd just find him in the music room playing Chopin (I think he'd love Nocturne in E flat, its SO ROMANTIC. go listen to it, trust me)

compliment his music skills, it'll put him in a good mood for the day.

I give him an 8.5/10. A gentlemanly smartass.

thanks for reading!! feedback is welcome!

have a good day :D

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #itto x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #arataki itto #itto #genshin ayato #fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader #idk what tags to put

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dearestxiao · 4 months

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the color blue: vibrance | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: (college au) you've found solace in a newfound, faceless friend after a messy break up left a hole of loneliness to be filled. you can't help but countdown the days until his identity is finally revealed, but perhaps you've known this mysterious friend all along.

WARNINGS: while this chapter is mostly tame, this story will progress to have heavier and darker themes. implied stalking, manipulation and guilt-tripping, student-teacher dynamics (reader is 21, zhongli is in his late 20's/ early 30's), threats of finacial manipulation. I believe that's all but let me know if there's more! reader is gender-neutral

wc: 6.6k

authors note: it's finally here! the re-upload of the color blue <3!!!!!! thank you all so so much for your patience. bare with me guys, this story is a slowburn. (also you cannot pay me to yap less). this is a re-upload of my fic from my old deactivated blog based on my college! however, this isn't a complete re-upload. for those who have read the original version of the color blue, some parts of the story have been altered and edited to better fit my vision of what i want the story to be (so no horned up xiao (yet) sorry guys </3) i really really hope all these changes are still enjoyable, though! thank you to those who made it possible to recover this story from my old blog, and thank you all for staying tuned <3

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 2] [part 3]

this is a dark fiction story. minors, do not interact. as always, reblogs are extremely appreciated!

you have a love-hate relationship with fall.

fall was a melancholic season for you, a season that practically begged you to simply stay home and away from the gloomy, blue skies. fall isn't a bad season, not by any means, but you do absolutely hate just how much more cozy it made your bed feel, how the soft pitter-patter of morning fall rain would ring out against the glass of your window as though beckoning you silently to stay under the warmth of your cozy blanket, how it became increasingly harder to get out of bed with the way the floors (and days as a whole) were cold and contrasting against the heat of your comforter (which, as the day goes by, you truly are starting to realize more and more why comforters have the word 'comfort' in them).

you liked the fallen leaves, with their reds and golds and oranges. you liked the pumpkins and the rain and the sweaters and the need for warm drinks, but god does fall make it impossible for you to get up these days.

luckily for you, your roommate has a knack for getting you to do things you don't necessarily want to do.

the first thing you awaken to (apart from the numerous snooze alarms you've dismissed in the past hour) is the borderline obnoxious feeling of your roommate bouncing onto the bed to the side of your (once) sleeping body, startling you. you can't say that this was the first time you've been woken up with a bang like this, but you could certainly say that it won't be the last.

"goooooodmorning, sunshine!" despite your eyes not being open, you can practically hear the sinister grin plastered all over his face as he let's out a greeting in his singsong voice, watching as you groan out at his chipperness. you never understood how your bestfriend could be such a morning person, but you supposed that facet of his life fit him well, just like you hating mornings fit you.

"venti." you let out, feeling him shake you awake. "get out."

your lovely, loving roommate responds with an exaggerated sigh, followed up by him gently jabbing a chipped baby blue lacquered finger at your cheek as you try to bury yourself into your pillow. he pressed against you just like how you had pressed your own against the button that, had you not pressed an excessive amount, would have avoided this situation as a whole. you can't help but feel as if the snooze button was invited purely just to spite people like you.

"aw, c'mon, I can hear your alarm from the other room you know. you were gonna need to wake up eventually." you force your head up just a little to pick up and peek at your phone with one sleepy eye, reading the time on the clock and realizing he's right, causing you to know full well that had he not woken you up you would've easily slept through your morning classes.

putting your phone back down, you roll your eyes. "yeah, yeah." you mock, moving to yawn and stretch before giving venti your full attention, eyeing his mischievous grin from your position. "what'd you want?"

"ugh, can't a man wake up his bestfriend without having any nefarious intentions in mind?" you deadpan at him, giving him that sort of look that just screams, 'no.'

"okay, fine, so I do have some mal-intent, but I made you breakfast, so it evens out! and since you're obviously so insistent on helping me out..." he smirks, and you instantly become suspicious, but you allow him to talk, wanting to see what he plans to rope you into this time.

"you know how I'm a great friend, an amazing one at that, and take you out to places all the time so that you can truly come out of that little shell you like to keep yourself in? how I'm such an oh-so amazing person that I use my popularity to let you enjoy life to your fullest? how I love to spoil you dearly, allowing you to truly-"

you're half tempted to throw a pillow at his face. "get to the point," you groan.

he dramatically rolls his eyes. "ugh, you're no fun. so, there's this halloween party..."

"I don't like where this is going."

he presses his pointer finger right against your lip. "hush! so, there's this halloween party, and I think it'd be fun for you to tag along with-"

"no."

"don't be a grinch! c'mon, I need a date! I even bought us matching costumes!"

"don't you have, like, a million other people that could be your date?."

he groans. "ugh, you know, you should seriously stop thinking about what others think. besides, all you've been doing these past few weeks is studying and sleeping. you need a break, have some fun! I promise it'll be a great time."

you sigh, willing to hear him out. you suppose you have been overworking yourself. "and what if I'm busy on sunday?"

he doesn't respond with quick wit like he usually does, and it makes you worried. you finally take a full, good look at him as you respond, and you watch as you see the smile on his once beaming face start to dissipate, and you instantly get hit with a pang of guilt at the sight. you note the way in which he's half dressed and how his messy dyed blue hair is still pinned back, as though he really did go out of his way to wake you up while he was getting ready. he looks away from you, as though he's trying to hold himself back from saying something. "do you... do you really have plans on halloween?" he says lowly, as though heartbroken.

the guilt really is hitting you strong. only venti can make you feel this bad this early in the morning.

"well, not at night atleast, but I'm not exactly sure that I want to spend it watching you in a costume get wasted." you try to joke, but you can tell that somethings up with venti. he doesn't find it funny, not one bit. "besides, I'm sure that you can find someone else to be the... er, morticia to your gomez addams, or something."

he nods slowly in an almost wounded baby bird fashion. "right. sorry for asking. I knew it'd be a bad idea to ask." his voice croaks a bit like he's right at the brink of tears. he moves to get up, as though trying to flea the scene, but your hand on his wrist stops him from going.

"hey, wait, what's wrong? I didn't think this would be such a big deal to you. you always party without me."

he let's out a tired, exhausted sigh. "you don't get it. it's fine, I can find someone else like you said."

"get what?"

"it," he replies. "you don't get it. it's not just a party to me." you quirk a worried browed towards his way, beckoning for him to explain. he shakes his head solemnly.

"it's just... it feels like you never want to hang out with me anymore. I don't know. I've been trying to make excuses for us to finally spend some time together but everytime you say no. I know that you're busy and all, and parties aren't exactly your thing, but you usually love halloween so I just thought..." he pauses, taking a deep breath. "it just... hurts. hurts that despite living with you I barely get to see you."

you interlace your hand with his, something you know that has always brought him comfort. you squeeze, letting out a little sigh, watching as he refuses to look at you as pink dusts his cheeks. you mull it over quickly as he looks at you at the feeling of your hand. "I'll go to the party." you say, despite knowing full well that you'd rather die than attend it. you'd truly do just about anything for your bestfriend.

"really?" he says, eyes wide as his signature smile begins forming again on his face. "you'll go? seriously?"

you shrug. "yeah, sure. who knows, it may be fun. hopefully, atleast."

venti nods eagerly, thumbing at your hand in delite. "great! you won't regret it, I promise. I'll tell you more about it later. oh [name], we'll have a blast, I swear on it." venti produces this wide, toothy grin, smiling down at you like you just told the man that he won a life-times supply of wine.

"thank you, thank you, thank you! I'd love to keep you here, but now that you've sealed the deal with me, you should start to get going." you check the time and he's right, you really should. shit, you're gonna be late for your class.

-----♡

you still have the very first letter he sent to you.

that fact is something you remember when your eyes land on the calendar on your wall as you hastily get ready for class. many of the days are crossed out, with only a handful remaining until the last day of the month; october 31st, the faithful day you will meet your penpal.

you still cant believe you're meeting him. the days—months, even— before you two came into contact are still a haze in the back of your mind. it was a little after your mind had become frazzled in the aftermaths of a messy, sudden breakup. during that time you had spent more time holding yourself inside an isolated cacoon than you'd like to admit.

the break up (that's still too much of an open wound for you to even want to think about right now) had honestly shook you to your core, making you crave some time alone, time to think and reflect on what had happened and on yourself. you spent most of your time away from everyone who wasn't venti (who, to be fair, you didn't really have a choice of getting away from in the first place, even if you had wished to).

however, there was an issue you couldn't ignore. despite the sheer largeness of the student population at your university, and how many people you know through your more than social roommate, you've always felt an incredible loneliness, a loneliness that was only worsened after the breakup.

for weeks on end you had craved some sort of connection, a fresh start, someone you could talk to that was your friend and not just venti. luckily, one day you had stumbled upon something while scrolling through your school's forum, a beacon of light.

it was a post where you could apply to be a penpal.

the idea seemed fun to you. all you had to do was submit a short bio of yourself, say some stuff you're into, what kind of penpal you were interested in, and your school mailbox. after that, you'd simply just have to wait and see if someone had took interest in you.

you honestly weren't expecting much, but you were pleasantly surprised when a few different people had actually sent in letters after a couple days. one was in reply to a letter you sent to someone who also posted their bio. another was in response to yours. the one that had stuck with you most, though, was one from an unrecognizable address off campus with an even less recognizable name attached.

and there it was, a glimmering sheet of the potential to get out of your slump right inside of your mailbox.

who was he? you couldn't help but be intrigued, and after reading over the letter the mysterious stranger (penpal?) had sent, you felt more than inclined to respond, quickly creating a relationship with the man who you would soon end up considering a close friend.

truth be told, you had obsessed over his letters, partially out of curiosity, and partially out of the way you felt so connected to this newfound friend despite never having spoken to him before. he always wrote them in a hasty, cursive script, sometimes a little smudged. many words were always scribbled out, as if constantly trying to find the best words to say, causing large blotches of the paper to be stained with dark ink. and yet the words themselves were soft and delicate. he never wrote with intensity. and he never wrote much about himself, either.

the extent of personal things he'd share eith you were limited to things like a song he was really into at the moment, a book he read recently, an assignment he was working on, or a quiet spot around or near campus he discovered. every once in awhile he'd honor you with a small little story about his life, but most of the time he'd spend his letters asking about details on yours. no matter how hard you tried to stir the conversation towards him, he always brought it back towards you, you, you. any question you'd ask would be met with short answers, or would simply just pivot back to asking about you.

you couldn't lie and pretend like it didn't fuel and egg on your curiosity. he always wrote just enough to keep you intrigued, making you feel insatiable, always wanting to know more. and yet, despite your best efforts, your mysterious penpal never gave up any more information than you needed to know.

you have a mental compilation of the upmost important details of him: the first is that he, of course, obviously goes to the same school as you, that's a given. there'd be no way he would've become your penpal otherwise. he lives off-campus, though, like you do.

the second is that he's in the same year as you, and you think he's somewhere in the history department, again, like you are. that means you've probably atleast seen him around at some point.

the third, and most important, is that he (atleast from what he alludes to) has some sort of past he rather not bring up, some past wounds and scars he'd rather not show, something that makes him keep his barriers up.

and that wall is thick. you've spent more hours than you can think pensively thinking about the identity behind the smudged ink, but to no avail. you didn't even know his real name. 'alatus' was what he told you to call him, but it's clear the name was just nothing more than a childhood nickname.

then, one day, you had opened up the newest letter he had sent and to your surprise, the sole thing written on the sheet of paper was a simple sentence and a string of numbers right under it— a phone number, his phone number. it read, "I want to be able to talk to you more than we can through these letters."

and talk, you two did.

maybe it's the ability to talk to him continously without having to await until you recieve a new letter, but you two had talked a lot, quickly becoming closer and closer. while you made sure to not sure anything too personal, you had shared much of your life with him, sometimes telling him things even venti didn't know. and sometimes, on rare occasions, he'd share something back, just enough for you to be ever craving more.

that craving was promised to be satiated after he had asked you something one night after talking for hours.

alatus: can we meet? we don't have to if you're not comfortable, of course, but I'd like to see you.

of course you said yes.

you: but how will I know it's you when I see you? you: tell me something special about yourself. some way I can know it's you when I see you alatus: I have nothing special about myself to tell you.

you: that's got to be a lie. of course you have something special about yourself. just give me something to identify you with or something, pleaseee alatus: the only thing that I can tell you is that I like the color blue. you: that doesn't tell me anything alatus: it tells you more than enough, you'll see.

that conversation happened a little over a month ago, and despite how much you've talked to him since then, you know not much more about him than you did before.

after finishing your routine and getting ready for class, you make sure to pick up a marker before you leave, crossing out yesterday's date. you only have just a few more 'x's' before you meet him.

ーーー☆

if there was one thing you hated more than having to leave a perfectly warm bed in the mornings everyday, it'd be the busy morning trains.

nothing feels more terrible (atleast in your grumpy, groggily morning mindstate) than being pushed and shoved by people with no basic understanding of personal space, or having to listen to the chattering loud noises of business men talking way too loud for comfort on their phone, or having to be painfully alert of just what stop you're getting off at when you're so tired and sluggish that you're genuinely wondering if your morning classes are even worth attending (you're definitely gonna schedule your classes different next semester, you can't help but think).

but if there's one thing that makes these trainrides even remotely better, one small but sole and detrimental saving grace, it's familiar faces.

you're never in the mood to talk during the mornings, mind too occupied on other things to handle maintaining even the most basic of conversations, but sometimes having someone accompany you makes you feel less lonely in a room (or in this case, a train cart) full of people, and that counts for atleast something. there's part of you that wishes that venti had accompanied you today on your way to classes even though his classes don't start till much later. your mental state is practically begging for some absentminded chatter to keep it occupied (venti always had a talent for talking when needed and distracting you from just about everything wrong in life, a talent that you're craving to bless you with right now).

luckily for you, though, as your eyes trail around the crowded train, you find something equally as distracting as a close friend would be.

you're still so, so utterly sleepy, but as your eyes trail to a glint of green (specifically the faded color you get after not redying your once vibrant blue hair in a long time), you suddenly feel a bit more awake, making eyecontact with the man that, no matter how much you try, seems to never not glare at you with his piercing golden eyes.

it's definitely not uncommon to see xiao on the same morning train as youーhell, it's not even uncommon for you to see him on the same night train as you, despite how sporadic the times you leave campus to go home isー considering you two share numerous classes with eachother (classes you're almost sure from limited knowledge that he's not actually into, classes that genuinely make you stop and wonder how and why xiao chose to be in them). but the sight of him makes your heart race a little, both at the way he steals quick glances at you before looking away, and at the way you find yourself silently intrigued by him, especially by just what his constant glances (and glares) could possibly mean mean.

despite his catish looks, xiao is a beautiful person, you think, fingers tightening around the train pole to keep your balance as your mind fills up with thoughts on the man infront of you.

he's pretty.

you feel eyes on you as you move to look away, not wanting to stare at him for long enough to seem like a creep (though unbeknownst to you, xiao does not share that same sentiment), instead moving to put in your earbuds and tune out all other chattering in the train, drowning it out with your music as you let yourself absentmindedly think of xiao. you noted that he looked exhausted, even moreso than usual, as though he'd been up all night just like you had. his hair was messy, thrown up in a half up half down style that framed his pierced face and ears perfectly in it's own imperfect way, and his eyebags match the overall tired feel he has going on. some things never change, you think.

you remember all the way back when you were just a college freshmen, locking eyes with the man for the first time ever in your life (though it wasn't by any means the first time his eyes laid upon you) just like you had moments prior. you vividly recall the way your breath hitched and your body stilled, the way you stared at him for far too long, the way your eyes glanced over all of him, as though trying to etch him into your memory.

it was like a scene from one of those teen romcoms you and venti watch whenever you're bored and want to hangout on saturdays, those scenes that feel too magical to ever even be considered as a possibility of happening in real life, only this time nothing truly spectacular came out of the moment. the occurance wasn't special, not by any means, but when your eyes locked with his the world seemed to stop and it was as though you two were the only ones in the world.

back then, his hair wasn't dyed the two iconic tones of blue he now rocks (or atleast, used to, before it faded out), nor did he have nearly as many expressive piercings and tattoos decorating his body further. instead, xiao was just... xiao; a blank slate begging to be covered in the self expressive forms xiao later delved deep into. there's always this soft frown on his face and eyes that are practically begging to be stared into.

the first thing you had noted back then (and even now as they grow in desperation) were his borderline begging eyes. begging to be seen. begging to be comforted. begging to be heard. eyes are the windows to the soul, and in xiao's case, xiao's windows lead into a home that has far too much going on, a home with curtains trying to shield people from looking inside, though they're far too sheer to actually do their jobs. a lonely soul. his eyes themselves weren't dead or empty, just... tired, as though they constantly scour around in attempt to find meaning in everyday life. the beautiful gold was and still is accented by horridly dark circles, and the thing you've never noticed about xiao is the way his eyes glimmer and sparkle a little when they meet yours. perhaps you don't pay attention to him as much as you think, as much as he would to you.

if you did, you'd know he found meaning you.

it's an admittedly comforting sight, moody and drowning like the deepest of oceans despite their gold glimmer, human. they make you feel seen, but most of all, they glare deep into the part of you that wants so heavily to just be there for him as though he's silently pleading for your attention. it looks like he's begging to be hugged and loved, or more specifically, to be loved back.

there's a part of you that wondered if half of the purpose of his appearance change was to intimidate people from trying to figure him out, to pretend as though his eyes weren't as desperate for comfort as they truly were.

and in that same exact (anticlimactic) moment, you came to the realization that everyone has a life just as deep and complex and layered as yoursーsonderー, and you furthermore realized that you want to know each and every complexity that the blue haired man in front of you had. you had found it unfair that you didn't know everything there was to know about him, and even now, as you stare and once again memorize the features you should already have etched into your head by now, mind trailing to the thought of just how many opportunities you've had to learn all there is to know about them that you didn't take, that fact still hasn't changed despite how many opportunities you had to over the past few years. xiao has remained the blank slate he was two years prior, no matter how dearly you wished otherwise.

perhaps that's your true downfall as a human being. curiosity is a curse. somethings are better left unknown, just like the identity of the man you've met online.

either way, no ones ever felt more like home then xiao did. though you? you're his entire universe and more.

now as your eyes shamefully lingers on him once more, wanting to get one last look at him before you have to get off the train due to reaching your (and his) destination, you come to a revelation.

xiao looks like the color blue.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: how'd you sleep last night?

you: maybe we should've slept earlier, I'm on my way to class right now and feel super exhausted

alatus: sorry. I shouldn't have kept you up. if it's worth anything, I'm really tired too.

alatus: I don't regret it though.

you: I don't either, but I will say I do regret asking you for that hint. haven't stoped thinking about it ever since I asked for it lol

alatus: really?

you: yeah, saw this guy on my commute to school and instantly thought about the color blue. it felt so weird

you: I don't think he even likes blue lol

alatus: yeah? what'd he look like?

you: like someone who hates colors as a whole

ーーー☆

today hadn't been the best of days for you.

you knew from the way professor zhongli had eyed you up and down as you walked into his classroom, mumbling a soft and short apology for being a few minutes late, that you should've just stayed home today. there was a nauseating glint in his eyes as they trailed after you, watching as you sat down. everyone else was eerily quiet, as though trying not to awake a sleeping dragon, causing anxiety to shoot through your veins. something was wrong.

"glad you've finally graced us with your presence, [name]. perhaps you'd like to inform the class as to why you were late today?" he speaks, uncaring of the lesson he was teaching just seconds ago, far more interested in chastizing you for just how disappointing you've been as of late. you squirm in your seat, chewing on the bottom of your lip as you think of what to say.

"I..." he doesn't give you a chance to truly explain himself. he rolls up the long sleeves of his white button up, heels clicking against the tiles of the floor as he walks to your desk.

"surely you've stayed up late studying for my class to make up for the sloppy quality of work you've been turning in as of late, correct?" he speaks lowly in his what would otherwise be soothing voice, but all it does is make the moment more embarrasing, more intimate as you feel the pitied stares of your classmates.

you don't respond. you can't, really. it's as though your lips are sealed with the weight of the poison laced on his words. the best you can do is fidget with your hands, already beginning to hold back tears, lip quivering as you try not to let your professor's notoriously ruthless teaching methods get to you. you could be sassy and catty with venti considering how close you two are, sure, but you could never be able to speak up against the domineering man infront of you.

"youー" zhongli isn't able to get a full word into his sentence before stopping as he hears the door to the class open once again. you're don't dare look back, but you do hear a quiet, mumbled apology for being late, and just from the tone alone you can tell it's coming from xiao. you watch as zhongli shakes his head at the sight, entire body radiating disappointment, and yet he doesn't give xiao the same scolding he gave you, saving him from the embarrasment.

what a biased dick, you think.

he shakes his head, sighing, deciding to save his energy. "... see me after class, [name]. you seem to be having a rough day, so I'll try to stop myself from adding onto your stress as much as possible. but please understand that in the future, lateness is unacceptable in this class. you should know this by now." the way he speaks is almost gentle, a lot more sweeter, as though he's simply just disappointed in you, but you know deep inside that there's more to his thiny veiled act of trying to parent you than meets the eye, a darker intent. you hate it, and you hate how you can't speak up, but you're grateful he spared you atleast some of his scolding, so you instead resort to simply nodding as zhongli goes back to teaching his class as though nothing ever happened.

-----♡

you spent the better half of your lecture worrying more about what was to come after than on the actual lesson itself. you refused to make zhongli's eyes, far too scared that if you were to make contact with his piercing ones that you'd lose all your resolve in an instant. time couldn't have gone by slower, but eventually, after what felt like days of waiting, the lecture was finally wrapped up for the day, and you watched as everyone shuffled out of the room except you and the professor himself.

"today's class felt longer than usual, hm?" zhongli attempts to joke as though to lighten the mood, but you don't dare to respond. you hear him sigh at the way you don't respond, accompanied by the quiet shuffling of paper as he makes his way to you. god, you want to be home right now.

"I wanted to talk about your performance in my class, [name]. please take a look at this," he slides a familiar looking group of stapled papers onto your desk, one that you hesistantly look at, only to wish that you had eyes at all in an instant at the sight.

you wish the world would simply swallow you whole at the sight of bright, red ink, showing a blaring '40%' at the upper right corner of the assignment you'd spent hours slaving over for, breath hitching in shock. you feel sick to your stomach, as though the red was the same red you'd see in the aftermath of a murder, only this time, the thing being brutally killed is your own ego.

you could've lived a good, long, healthy life without seeing such a ghastly sight.

"it's certainly not bad, but you could be... better. much better. I expect more from you. you know that. and I know you. you can do much better than this sloppy work you've been handing in lately." he speaks, shattering your heart word by word.

throughout your years at this school you've had your far share of lower grades, and you've always managed to take them with stride. this was different, though. every student knows that in all of the classes zhongli's teaches, anything less than perfect is practically a death sentence.

"but I..."

"no buts. I would love an explanation, however, if you have one to give me."

you don't have an explanation. you've been working hard just as you have since you started taking his classes sophmore year, so why are you suddenly now failing so terribly? you shake your head at himーthis must be a mistake. a big, big mistake.

"...you're on scholarship student, aren't you?" you nod your head, knowing full well that had it not been for the full ride you've been given, you wouldn't even be setting foot near this building, let alone this classroom. "you do want to keep attending this school, don't you? you'd likely lose your scholarship if you don't improve soon. we both know full and well how finicky administration are with grades."

you try your hardest to hold back tears as the papers in your hand begin to slightly crumble from the force of your grip on them at the sheer thought of losing the very thing allowing you to go here. one even goes as far as to fall, splattering against the once prestine white sheet, soaking in and feathering out and smudging the blue pen ink that you used to write your oh-so-unimpressive answers with.

you wonder just where exactly things went wrong; you had worked so hard on this assignment, how could it not be 'good enough?' most importantly, how were you supposed to impress him? wasn't your sheer effort enough? you gave it all of your all, but he still somehow wants more, though you're not exactly sure how much you have left to give to him.

he watches your form with pity. his eyebrows furrow as he bends down a little to meet your eye thats paying far too much attention to the floor beneath. a gloved hand takes your face in his palm, thumbing at your eyes so as to wipe your tears away, but it does nothing to comfort you.

"poor thing. this entire ordeal must be stressful for you.... perhaps you can have one of the teacher assistants help you. I'd suggest ganyu, but as of late, she's been busy, and I'd assume you'd be better off getting tutored by someone actually in the same course as you. you and xiao seem to be getting along lately, though I know he has a rough surface. perhaps you could melt through that barrier though. I can tell you can. I can speak to him, if you'd like."

you honestly can't comprehend his words with the way your pounding heart is much more louder than his soft tone of voice. your lip quivers as you attempt to meet his eye. you can't find the strength in you to reply.

"will you atleast consider trying to get into contact with him?" he asks after no response. you shakily nod, albeit hesitantly, and he gently lets go of your face at the notion, smiling lightly.

"good. it'd be a shame to see you lose the scholarship you worked so hard on attaining. make me proud, [name]. you've always been my star student. I trust that you and the extra help at your disposal will resolve this little issue you're having. you have my private number, correct?" you nod again, much to his pleasure.

"please contact me whenever you desire. I can set-up one on one time to make sure you're caught up to speed. now get to your other classes for me, okay? I'm sure you have a long day ahead of you."

'a long day' is an understatement, you think, because your day feels blue, moody, as dark as the clouded sky. you wonder briefly how you can cover up your frustration before anyone at your next class sees. you suddenly feel a seering hatred for the soft pitter patter that rings against the windows that seem to mock you and the fact that you didn't stay in the coziness of your bed today.

perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

ーーーNEW TEXT MESSAGE ☆

you: gonna be home late, going to the library to study. start dinner without me

you: today sucked bad

venti: what's wrong?????? what happened???? come home please, you know I don't like you staying out after dark, especially when your upset

you: im okay. I think zhongli is the worst professor I've ever had though seriously

venti: did something happen?!?!?!? I'm sorry ): we can hug when you get home okay? and talk it out? whatever you wanna do.

you: yeah, thanks. actually kind of need that hug rn. gna go to the library

venti: okay, stay safe... call me?

you: can't. it's pouring outside so i have to go. see you soon though.

ーーー☆

you find yourself growing tired of this routine.

it wasn't a terrible one, not by any means, but the days are truly starting to blend in with one another. everyday, you wake up, go to class, pray your work is up to the hightened standards of professor zhongli (and all of the other freakishly stern teachers here, for that matter), study, go home again, and prepare yourself to it all over again tomorrow. if you're lucky, your roommate breaks your routine just a bit, forcing you through whatever shenanigans he deems fit for that given night. eitherway you were tired, desperate to forget about today's stresses. maybe venti was right; a party would take the edge off.

atleast your other classes, apart from one taught by professor dottore (which you luckily didn't have today), weren't as bad as zhongli's.

nonetheless, after hours of studying in the warmth and comfort of your campus library without interruption (minus the time when your two friends albedo and sucrose had asked if you needed any help, to which you declined) felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier and your energy strained, begging you to simply go home and rest for the night.

the train is crowded as expected, and almost all the seats were taken apart from a few that were just made empty after people got off the stop. you take it, too tired to stand for the rest of the trip home after the long day that you had. but honestly, you're starting to think that whoevers in charge of the universe is seriously playing a joke on you or something, becauss someone takes the open seat right next to you as you sit down, and it's the person you least were expecting to have to sit alongside. xiao.

he looks a little out of breath, as though he ran to catch the train. he makes no effort to even acknowledge the fact that you're seated right next to him as he plays music through his headphones. even so, xiao is a beaming light in the sea of tuxed business men who hate their jobs and gloomy faced riders tired of the long day.

quite frankly, you're lucky you even got a seat, even if it meant having to sit next to the man you cannot get out of your head despite how much you think he dislikes you.

the sheer crowdedness of the train makes it so that you're pressed flushed against him, feeling the emmense amount of body heat emitting from his body. if you were any less exhausted, you'd be freaking out right now from the proximity, and honestly, you kinda still are, but you're too tired to truly feel weighed down by it.

you actively had to fight hard from going unconscious right then and there from how tired you are. you really didn't want to fall asleep on the train, but god, today was just so long, and xiao (who still hasn't even so much as glanced your way) is so warm, and such a comforting presence, and your feet ache and you didn't sleep much last night and you'd do anythibg to just get some rest.

it's a battle you lose. your body shuts down after a few minutes of trying your absolute hardest to just stay awake until you arrived to your stop, eyes drooping closed as you fall asleep next to xiao.

as you fall asleep onto xiao, as it comes to be.

#tw age gap #tw student teacher relationship #tw manipulation #tw stalking #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere venti x reader

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thatfreshi · 4 months

Text

"A Small Ornate Pocket Knife" (Uni AU P. 18)

Yay Astarion isn't in the hospital anymore! And the girls are back to being dramatic!

no tw!

The next couple of days are... odd, to say the least. Astarion was released from the hospital the next morning, and your little ragtag group piled into Gale's minivan to head back to campus. When you all arrive back at the parking garage, everyone gives sweet small goodbyes and well wishes. Shadowheart and Gale still don't speak though. Then again, their eyes say plenty. Wyll tries to break their tension with that natural kindness of his.

"Astarion, Tav, don't worry about helping finish the project okay? We'll all put the finishing touches on everything."

He glances around at everyone as if to say 'Right guys?' and he gets a couple mumbles and murmurs of compliance.

"Right, of course. As if I'd chip my nails trying to help all of you."

It's that common deflection of his, but you can see through the veil for once. He's grateful, yet still nervous. You almost don't hear all the laughter of the group while you study his face, which still looks a little too worn for your liking.

"Tav? Are you alright?"

Astarion's eyes are fixed on yours now. You get a little red in the face, but nothing too noticeable.

"Yep! Just spaced out, my bad. We headed back to your place?"

"You know I told you I can take care of myself Tav."

"Yes, and then I offered to stay with you today anyways to make sure everything's alright."

He furrows his brow slightly.

"I despise you."

"Mhm, hate you too."

You exchange light smiles as you walk behind the rest of the group. Shadowheart interrupts the soft moment, yelling back to you guys.

"Astarion! Are you still going to make it to Halsin's party this Friday?"

He scoffs.

"As if I'd miss a good chance to dress up and drink."

You had almost forgotten about Halsin's party. He invited you despite your previous affair with each other, and told you to bring along all your Ravenguard friends, which of course included Astarion. It's hard to focus on holidays like Halloween when you spend the night in the hospital, but it will be nice to look forward to something fun for once. After all, getting to see Astarion all dressed up...

"TAV!"

Apparently, Shadowheart is still yelling.

"What?!"

"I saidddd, are you going too?"

You almost roll your eyes, but show restraint.

"Yes Shadow, I am also going."

"Good! What about you Gale? Maybe you can bring your girlfriend..."

He doesn't respond at first, simply sighing loudly.

"Babe, just-"

Karlach's attempts at taming her feisty partner fail.

"What, worried she's too old to hold her liquor? Or maybe the sex isn't risky enough, considering you probably can't even knock her up."

"Shadowheart that's enough."

"I'm just saying, having a Professor at a student party might be a little bit-"

"I said that's enough!"

Thankfully, you're back at the dorm now, which allows Gale to storm off. You decide not to get involved, leaving the rest of the group to go up to Astarion's room.

"And I thought I was catty."

He smirks while opening the door. You hold it for him and walk in after, and proceed to watch him take off his shoes and empty his pockets onto the small kitchenette countertop. There's his keys, a fashionable wallet, and a small ornate pocket knife. You pick it up and flick it open while he lies on the beaten-up couch across the room.

"This surely is a nice knife."

He looks up for just a moment to see what you're talking about.

"Of course. If I'm going to defend myself, I'm going to be stylish while I do it."

"I guess I just didn't know you carried one."

He doesn't respond, leading you to sit on the floor next to the couch.

"So, is it time?"

~~~

Close to an hour later, you and Astarion are sitting in front of his laptop, checking various social media platforms.

"I think we did it. I think supermodel Astarion Ancunín has officially been dissolved."

"I think you're right. One last thing to do I suppose."

He takes out his phone and goes to look through his contacts, until he's met with 'Cazador.' With a few shakey taps, he gets to the blocked button, and eventually puts his thumb down. He then drops it on the floor. You wait for a moment, giving him space to process the decision he's made just now.

"Do you really think it'll work?"

You close the laptop.

"I... I don't know. But we have to try. We just have to try."

"I haven't had the energy to try for a long time."

You expect tears to fall, but nothing comes. He seems peaceful.

"Then I'm happy I could help."

Once again, you linger on each other's eyes, and you study each and every hue that his have to offer. Time stands still, as silly as that sounds. No modeling gigs, no assignments, no senseless drama, at least for this moment. You lean in a little, and he reciprocates. For once, you find a hand traveling to his hair. He's so close, and maybe it isn't so hard to explain after all. Maybe-

And then your phone rings.

"Who the hell..."

It's Karlach.

"Go ahead, you should take it. And thank you, for all your assistance darling. It's been much appreciated."

You quickly walk out of the dorm and answer the phone.

"God damnit Karlach, this better be important!"

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #comfort #freshiau

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chameleon66 · 3 months

Text

The framed fate of two twins

Sanders sides soulmate au: In this universe on your sixteenth birthday the last photo you and your soulmate were both in will be sent to you framed and when you first touch it will reveal the picture (And that picture can be updated to the most recent picture).

Ships: Prinxiety and Dukeceit (Yeah that poll I did was a joke, I was going to do both along)

Warnings: Remus being himself, soulmate au, mild angst, (Let me know if I need to add anything)

Word count: 3129

Remus and Roman were about as different as twins could get from each other, Roman was in the drama club and well liked by practically everyone as he was charming, witty and not to be shallow but very good looking.

Remus had always been a problematic guy, he liked to fool around and break rules, he wasn’t bad, just chaotic. Plus there were people who admired his bold and outgoing nature.

Despite their differences there was one thing the brothers had in common, they could not wait for their sixteenth birthday to find out who their soulmate was. After hearing their parents' story of meeting each other they both desperately wanted to know who their soulmates were. The idea of having the special someone to share secrets and love with made them both giddy with joy.

Soon enough it was their sixteenth birthday and both of them made plans for the day, Roman invited some of his theater club friends and they all chipped in so they could go to the local community theaterhouse to watch ‘The Neverending Story’. While Remus asked Janus to go to a R rated movie with him then they’d go look at some wall murals downtown.

Remus was on cloud nine knowing he’d get to know who his soulmate was that nightstand couldn’t stop talking about it, not that Janus minded, he always thought Remus was adorable when he was excited. Remus hardly payed attention to the movie and when they stopped to take pictures together in front of the mural, in the back of his mind he thought it wouldn’t be so bad if saw one the photos he took with Jan in the frame, but out of all the people on earth what were the chances it would be him. Remus didn’t know Math isn't his strong suit but he could hope.

Roman meanwhile was to put it lightly, a complete stressed mess. He couldn’t stop thinking that he’d get to see who his soulmate was that night and he was going a mile a minute snapping pictures of everyone in the group and everyone passing by because according to him “What if I walk by them today and don’t realize it Patton!” It took Patton the whole walk to the theater to calm Roman down with his promise that the stars wouldn’t doom Romna to be alone forever and once he met his soulmate they’d be perfect for eachother, Roman could only hope.

Both brothers arrived home just before dinner was to be served and they’re mom couldn’t stop saying how happy she was for them and that they weren’t her little baby boys anymore while their dad patted both of his sons on the back and told him he was happy for them.

After dinner they all shared a chocolate cake that their mom baked herself, then it was time for them to open the packages that came addressed to them that afternoon when the mail man arrived. They all sat down in the living room, both brothers shaking in anticipation as they were handed the wrapped packages. Remus and Roman didn’t hesitate as they both messily tore off the wrapping paper then opened the lid of the boxes to find two identical frames in the box.

Both twin’s hands reached down in the box and grabbed the frames which instantly lit up to reveal the pictures hidden. Remus’s picture was the selfie he and Janus took earlier that day downtown in front of a mural called while Roman’s was the cast and crew photo from the show he had closed at school a few days ago, Beauty and the Beast.

The brothers were stunned quietly as their parents began yelling happily but neither responded to the yelling.

Remus was thrilled, his best friend was his soulmate but did Janus like Remus that way? What if they weren’t meant to be? What if he ended up losing Janus as a soulmate and best friend? What if it was a mistake? Millions of questions flooded Remus’s brain all at once, and Remus had no answers.

Roman was puzzled, His soulmate had to have been in the picture but then which person in the picture was his soulmate? I couldn’t have been Patton or any of his other friends he was with that day since he took many other pictures with them that day. So that narrowed it down to at least a dozen other people in the photo, but then who was it?

— Timeskip, to the next day at school —

That morning both brothers came to school with a purpose, to talk/find their soulmate. Remus texted Janus before class to meet up at their favorite spot behind the bleachers at the football field during lunch. That is when he planned to tell Janus that he was his soulmate, until then all he could do was hope, which felt like all he had been doing lately.

Roman on the other hand was as busy as a bee playing detective trying to find out who his soulmate could be, before school and in between his classes he took selfie after selfie with the cast and crew of the recent school play but the picture in the frame remained the same picture. In fact Roman almost gave up when he was rushing to the cafeteria to meet with Patton for lunch class when suddenly someone crashed into him and knocked his phone out of his hands.

Both Roman and the person he walked into fell to the floor in the hallway with a grunt.

“Oh I’m sorry.” Roman started to gather the belongings scattered across the floor. “I wasn’t looking where-.” Silence woke up mid Roman’s sentence when he looked at the person he crashed into. Then all time seemed to fall still.

The person Roman crashed into was dressed darkly in ripped jeans and a hoodie that looked to be hand sewn, his hair was dyed purple and he had dark circles under his eyes that could have been makeup with how dark they were. The person blushed as he looked up and met Roman’s gaze and quickly scooped up his stuff and speed walked away from Roman, leaving Roman there on the floor unsure of what had just happened.

Once Roman collected him and his belongings he began walking much slower to the cafeteria checking his phone on the way. Once he finished checking his instagram notifications he decided to clear up some memory in his phone by deleting a few of the many pictures he had taken that day, trying to find his soulmate.

When he opened the app he saw a photo of the guy and him he had chase into, he must have accidentally clicked the photo button while he was falling, the angle wasn’t very flattering but he could clearly make out the features of the guy, that’s when something clicked together in Roman’s head, that guy was on costume’s crew for Beauty and the Beast.

His name was Virgil and Roman had talked to him before when they were on a five and he needed his sizes for his Lumiere costume, but could it be?

Before Roman could properly understand what he was doing he reached for the frame stuffed down into his backpack and compared the image in it to the one on his phone, they were an exact match. Which could only mean one thing, Roman had found his soulmate.

— Meanwhile with Remus —

Remus couldn’t focus on what was happening around him, the shadeness from under the bleachers, the taste of hot and spicy chips in his mouth or the sound of Janus ranting about how a kid in his Science class Logan was such a teacher’s pet and always reminded the teacher about their homework.

Normally Remus would laugh and crack a few jokes but now he was just silently pondering to himself, he was sitting right next to his soulmate right now and Janus didn’t realize it. He hated to admit it but he wanted Janus, he wanted to kiss his vitiligo coated face and protect his smile and laugh forever. But then what if Janus ran away and got freaked out, I mean Janus knew he could be a bit much but that never stopped Janus from being his very best friend so why would that stop him from being his soulmate. Things would never be the same if he told Janus.

“Earth to Remus, are you even listening to me?” Janus shouted in his ear bringing Remus out of his head and back into the real world.

“Yeah I’m listening.” Remus flashed his toothy grin but Janus looked unconvinced.

“Yup, something’s wrong.” Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, as if trying to see through him to figure out what was the matter.

“With you?” Remus tried to redirect the conversation away from himself.

“No, you.” Janus moved closer to Remus and Remus felt like he would have combusted right then and there on the spot.

“You've been really quiet, which is highly unusual for you.” Janus stated in a tone of voice that reminded Remus of a lawyer. “Does this have anything to do with you finding out your soulmate last night?”

Maybe Janus was some undercover law school student because he always seemed to put two and two together and know what was going on. Remus knew he had to do it, he just couldn’t hold it inside anymore plus Janus’s birthday would be in a few months so he’d find out on his own sooner or later so Remus just had to tell him.

“Janus.” Remus started “I need to tell you something important.”

“Did you finally commit a felony and need me to represent you in court?” Janus mockingly asked but Remus didn’t laugh, that is what told Janus that this was serious and he sat still waiting for Remus to continue talking.

“So… I did find out my soulmate and I do think I like them, romantically.” Remus hated the way the sophisticated words sounded coming from him but he didn’t know how else to put it without sounding like a creepy stalker.

“Well then who is it Re?” Janus gently asked but something in his head was telling him he knew who it was but he couldn’t believe that voice, it was best not to get his hopes up too high, that’s what he had been telling himself for weeks before Remus’s birthday.

Remus groaned into his hands “It’s so weird to say.” Remus whined.

“Say it.” Janus urged “I double dog dare you to say it.” Janus smirked knowing Remus never said no to a dare.

“Ok, fine, it’s you ok, I saw the selfie we took yesterday at the mural in the picture frame!” The words came out of Remus’s mouth in a tizzy and Remus couldn’t get anything else out of his mouth so he just sat there looking down at the ground listening to the silence of Janus.

Janus almost felt his eyes bulge out his socket out of every emotion that ran through his head at once, first came shock, then bewilderment, then finally rejoice. He was Remus’s soulmate so that meant Remus was his soulmate.

“I’m sorry.” Janus said in such a melancholy voice that it almost sounded depressed. And Remus almost had to mentally kick himself to get himself to respond.

“What?” Remus looked up to see Janus’s eyes down on the ground now.

“I’m sorry that you got stuck with me as your soulmate.” Janus sunk in his seat as he spoke.

“No, don’t you pretend to not know how incredibly amazing and sexy you are.” Remus’s hand went up to Janus’s chin and pulled his face up to look at his.

“Stop Remus.” Janus giggled and flustered at Remus’s comment; this made Remus feel more confident so he decided it was time to ask him.

“Janus, would you like to be my Boyfriend?”

Janus took a pause, a pause that made Remus grow tense again, what if he said no?

“What’s the dowry?” Janus purred and Remus could help the chuckle he let out.

“Whatever I have in my pockets and…the last photo on my camera reel?”

“I accept.” Janus replied putting both of his hands on Remus’s neck drawing them closer together.

It was meant to be, they were meant to be, they both knew it for sure as their lips met in a passionate first kiss. Remus’s hands cupping Janus’s face and Janus’s hands on Remus’s shoulders.

Well Remus was right, things wouldn’t ever be the same after that.

— And now we’re back with Roman —

It was Roman’s last class of the day, theater. Which should have made Roman happy but he was too busy wallowing in self pity to be happy about his favorite class. He had tried to talk to Virgil twice that day but every time he messed up and ended up running away.

The first time during lunch he almost walked up to Virgil but then the person Virgil had been sitting with spotted him and Roman panicked.

Then the second time after lunch on his way to his fourth period he spotted Virgil in the hall and tried to introduce himself but ended up saying “Hi, I’m Roman numeral.” Where did that even come from?

After that attempt Roman became even more stressed out, fearing he had already made his own soulmate hate him. To make the situation even worse he had his Theater period with Virgil so he was just sitting in his seat in the auditorium trying not to look at Virgil.

Perfect, just perfect.

Since it was the first class after they closed their show the teacher had a small party planned where they pretty much got to eat snacks and talk with each other all period. Roman tried to sit at his own desk and focus on one of his latest passion projects but he just found himself fantasizing about Virgil. How the universe had planned for them to be together but was making it so difficult for Roman to talk to him without sounding like a complete brain dead moron.

Roman was so busy mentally scolding himself that he almost missed the tap on his shoulder. When he looked up from his paper he saw Virgil standing next to him.

“Hey…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, he took a deep breath then asked Roman “Do you think we can talk for a minute?”

Roman’s mouth felt dry as sand in the desert but when he nodded his head in response he felt like something was gnawing at his stomach.

“Ok.” Virgil began to walk away from the isle where Rpman was sitting then motioned for Roman to follow him. Roman got up not bothering to grab his things and followed Virgil to a secluded part of the Auditorium where no one else was.

Roman already started scripting out an apology in his head, for being annoying or whatever Virgil was going to be mad at him for. Which really was a shame because Roman honestly wished Virgil felt the same and that they would live happily ever after but maybe fate was wrong.

Virgil stood against the wall while Roman stood about two feet in front of him. Roman swallowed trying to regain some of the moisture in his mouth then he tried to speak.

“I-I’m…I’m sorry about-.” Roman tried to gather his thoughts into a sentence but so much wanted to come out all at once and none of it sounded right.

“Listen, Roman…I know I’m your soulmate.” Virgil’s eyes avoided Roman’s and the blush was obvious even behind what looked to be a layer of white foundation.

Roman’s mind went blank for a few milliseconds, trying to remember if he was daydreaming or if this was actually happening and after he concluded this was really happening he realized Virgil knew that they were each other's soulmates.

“My birthday was a few months ago…” Virgil explained. “I’ve honestly kind of always had a crush on you but I’ve always been too nervous to actually talk to you. But during the closing show on Sunday I heard some of the other actor’s talking and one said it was going to be your birthday on wednesday, so I guess I figured you found out, right?”

“Yes! I-I did.” Roman was now practically vibrating with anticipation, he had no clue what Virgil was going to say next, was he going to ask Roman out? Was he hearing all of this right or was he just crazy? No, Roman was definitely hearing things right. But that meant his soulmate was in love with him, so what did that mean for them now?

“So…would you be interested in meeting up with me tomorrow after school, for coffee, as in a date?” Virgil's smile made an appearance on his face and Roman smiled back.

“I’d be delighted too.” Roman beamed at Virgil and Virgil beamed back.

The both just stood there for a moment lost in the moment with each other, looking into the others eyes. Roman was lost in Virgil’s brown eyes, they were an enchanting display of dark brown with flecks of gold shining in them. But then the school bell jolted them out of the moment and they both jumped out of surprise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow after school.” Virgil excused himself walking past Roman but as he walked past Roman felt the press of lips on his cheek for but a second then it disappeared along with Virgil from his line of sight.

Roman touched the place on his cheek where Virgil kissed and felt himself swoon in bliss. He really just got a date with his soulmate and a kiss.

Ok, so maybe today wasn’t so bad.

— After school —

Both brothers arrived home in great moods, for once not arguing on the car ride home and when their mother asked how their day was they both replied in unison “Perfect.”

Author’s note: So this was my first attempt at a soulmate au fanfiction, I think I did pretty well, but please let me know what you think and maybe I’ll do another soulmate Sander sides fanfiction at some point again soon. Thank you for reading.

#random #sander sides #sanders sides #i love them #remus sanders #roman sanders #sander side virgil #sanders side fic #virgil sanders #janus sanders #soulmates #soulmate au #prinxeity #prinxiety #demus #dukeceit #fanfiction #fanfic

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slocumjoe · 1 year

Note

could i get your take on what the companions (or just my favorite boy X6's) top 10 fave candies/foods would be in a modern AU?

anon you are in luck, because I am constantly thinking about the diets and eating habits of my blorbos

The numbered list isn't in any particular order, it's just so I don't have to manually count each point

What the companions would eat if not in a post apocalypse

Cait; Wouldn't have a taste for fancier cuisine. Eats more...hick-ish. I can say that because I was a hick with this kind of diet, growing up. Has a taste for filling, cheap, low-effort food...think lots of fast food, but "healthier" fast food. Like Chipotle, Panera, etc. Can cook, doesn't often, but will if she has a craving. Savory or tart tastes. She tends to eat lighter than you'd expect.

Blueberry brownie anything, favors dark chocolate in general

Submarine sandwiches, anything with pickles

Key lime pie

Salt and vinegar chips and thinks critics of such chips are cowards

Peach Redbull, any energy drinks though

Storebought hummus and Doritos, has been seen eating hummus with just a spoon though

Blueberry bread pudding. Simple to make, fun to eat, very comforting. Buys her bread already stale from a local bakery, has a guy to hook her up with the old shit

Seafood chowder

Sausages in any capacity. Jerky sticks, breakfast sausage, etc. Loves chorizo.

Honey buns from the gas station

Curie; Health nut, she eats like every influencer claims they eat like. Only, Curie actually eats like that. Lots of fresh foods and whole grains, little red meat. However, Curie makes a point to have foods that other health nuts would condemn, thinks its really important to not label any food as "bad." So, she balances between health nut and normal person. Her taste leans toward bright and/or sweet. Dislikes red meat.

Salmon breakfast wraps

Tropical fruit smoothies, eats so much pineapple

Iced tea, favors raspberry. Never seen without an iced tea of some kind

Halibut tacos, likes red cabbage and a fuck ton of lemon on it. Soft shells all the way

Bananas foster

Whipped brie dip, eats it with anything but loves it on apples, basically dessert

Lemon pepper grilled chicken and rice

So many salads, loves that you can just throw shit in a bowl and call it a recipe. Likes strawberries and almonds

Lemon poppyseed muffins

Shrimp and bitter melon stir fry

Danse; mixed bag. One on hand, small town diner tastes. Simple, cheap, good ol' American food. On the other, he's doomed to be a soldier in every universe he's in, so...maybe he picks up some tastes and dishes from places he's toured. Gets a weird pallate that shoots in all directions and makes you wonder what it's like in that thick skull. One day he's a good American boy with pancakes and steak, the next he's eating cake mix dry and drinking tahini from a flask.

Anything BBQ, but a pulled pork devotee

Hot coffee so heavily creamed and sugars it looks like milk. He likes the twix combo of chocolate, shortbread, and caramel flavors

Prepackaged baked goods a la Hostess, fucks up little Debbie oatmeal cookies

Apple and pecan pie

Menemen—Turkish dish, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bell peppers, spices to taste, and (controversially) onions. Adds sausage and cheese, eats it with a fork or spoon (its meant to be eaten with bread)

Khachapuri—Georgian cheesy bread with egg. Eats with a knife and fork. (its meant to be eaten with the bread crust)

Smores pop tarts

Beef and potato stew

Rice bowl with fried egg and avocado, bonus points if it has bacon

Straight cookie dough/brownie/cake batter, usually when he's black out drunk and cannot shame himself out of eating raw egg products.

Deacon; Very childhood comfort food. Y'know, things you had as a kid, but probably grew out of a bit? Eats out of gas stations/takeout frequently. Very open flavor pallete, has tried everything he's had the chance to. Likes one-handed food, stuff you can have the other hand free for. Doesn’t really have a 'theme', has broad horizons for his diet. Likes lighter, mild flavors, though. He eats lightly and on the go a lot.

Hot/corn dogs, taste in hot dog toppings varies

Egg salad sandwiches

French fries and vanilla ice cream, classic combo

Mango sticky rice

Cornbread with any accompaniments. Likes honey or chili, thinks if you have a drink with cornbread, you ain't a real cornhead

Penne alla vodka

Cucumber salad. This could mean a salad with cucumbers, that trending Asian recipe where you cut the cumber so its springy, or eating a cucumber like a hotdog.

Fried mushrooms

Usually just drinks water but will have gator/powerade when he's working. Likes purple flavor

Captain crunch cereal, loves all cereal though. Prefers the kibble stuff to the berries. Starts philosophical debates about the morality of Trix commercials vs Lucky Charms commercials

Gage; His favorite foods reflect his upbringing. Coastal swamp cuisine, cheap and made in bulk. Take Danse's pallate and hyperlocalize it, and then lower the budget by a good amount. Things he grew up eating. Would gradually replace his favorites with pricier, 'less embarrassing' dishes, distances himself from his origins. However, takes care to not looked too loaded. Smokey and savory flavors are his thing, likes more spice than people expect.

Doberge cake, which is layered with pudding, often half-chocolate and half-lemon

Red beans and rice, with stewed pork if they could afford it

Blackened fish of any kind, liked it with cilantro-lime rice

Steak with potatoes and/or eggs

Chronic iced tea drinker like Curie, though he prefers the bitter kinds

Scallops

Brussels sprouts defender and will fight for their honor

Peaches

Was introduced to curry during a business meeting/outing. Could drink that shit from a glass, has it with potatoes and porkchops.

Lobster anything. This is one of those 'less embarresing' things, but he genuinely enjoys a good lobster roll. Even if he prefers a freshly-caught lobster bisque. Again, something he had growing up, something he pushes away.

Hancock; Similar to Deacon, but favors fatty, greasy food. No, it's not the drugs, that's just his metabolism. He's a skinny twink, always starving, can never put on weight. Eats as much as Danse, who is a big guy and needs more calories than most. He's really into street food and foreign dishes, won't eat at a restaurant if they speak fluent English or have good customer service. IYKYK. Very comfort food heavy, lots of "this would slap with Netflix at 2 am"

A classic oxtail, mac and cheese, and collard green take out combo

Any and all American-chinese take out, usually gets eggplant tofu with chow mein and cream cheese rangoons

"Walking tacos", those things where you open a small bag of chips and dump White People taco makings in. Probably just tips the whole thing into his mouth

Yakitori, Japanese chicken skewers, popular bar food

Bloody Mary cocktails

Pizza, will fight for the honor of pineapple. Would really be into how Brazil does pizza

Frozen yogurt and ice cream, piles with toppings

Breakfast sandwiches or wraps. Egg, meat, cheese, doesn't matter the time nor specifics.

Jam donuts, loves cherry fillings

Puppy chow/muddy buddies, chex cereal covered in chocolate and powdered sugar. Eats his weight in them if not careful

MacCready; forces himself to learn how to cook for Duncan's sake, but for himself...good God. It's horrible. Eats like garbage. Would never drink water if not to set an example. Take out, frozen food, so much candy and soda. After Duncan, broadens his horizons. Finds he really likes soups. Just throw shit in a pot and it works. Eats on a budget, so that's a life-saver. Doesn't have a preferred flavor pallete, aside from his love of candy.

Meat lover's pizza. Thinks pineapple has no place on pizza

Used to drink Mountain Dew and diet coke, replaced it with iced teas and more organic fruit juices for the sake of his teeth

Chicken soup, either from a can, or homemade. Either way, slaps. If homemade, blends veggies for a hidden veggie stock. For him, Duncan is a lot better at eating veggies, MacCready needs to trick himself.

Sour rainbow ropes

Cookie crisp cereal, thinks whoever came up with it deserved the sloppiest head. Incredible design, no notes

Cheese and sour cream chips

Famous Amos cookies

Eggo waffles

Gnocchi is God to him. Its superior to all noodles and makes your Shit In The Fridge soup 1000 times better.

Rice pudding is cheap, easy, and a surprisingly efficient sweet-tooth satisfier. Makes it with pumpkin spice mix or chocolate.

Nick; Home-cooked meals all the way. Could kill himself with cheese and die happy. Lots of easy meals and snacking so he can keep working, but will treat himself to a nice, hard-earned dinner when he has the time and energy. Likes himself the smokey, the fresh, or the sour. Probably knows all the best sub shops in the city, probably in a turf war with regulars of rival shops. Jewish delicatessens are like church to him.

Lasanga. Most of his freezer space is lasagna. Eats so much of it. He's lactose intolerant. It hurts but it hurts so good

Latkes. Fried potato things, kind of like hashbrowns, except the potato is mashed/ground instead of grated. And yes. Also pastrami. But those little potato bitches...mmmph.

Red velvet muffins with cream cheese frosting.

Fried cheese in any capacity

A prosciutto, arugula, brie, and fig sandwich

Pickled pearl onions

Cobb salad

Black coffee. Temp doesn't matter, because he's going to forget it until its room temp.

Has been known to enter fugue states and consume an absurd amount of Chicago style hot dogs

Scones or just plain bread with butter and jams

Piper; Broke college student trying to make it as a reporter. Her tastebuds are fucked, they salivate not for flavor, or texture, but for those good, good low prices. Piper's diet is almost entirely snackfood or takeout. If she ever cooks, it's for Nat. But when taking care of just herself, Piper eats from a box or bag. When she does cook, it's very simple meals. Loves her carbs and her fruit flavors

Chicken Ramen with canned chicken and frozen broccoli chucked in. Also makes this for Nat

Hot cheetos, eats with chopsticks

Spaghetti and meatballs

Fruit smoothies/smoothie bowls, blends in veggies as well for the nutrition

Coka cola and anything from Fanta, loves fruit sodas

Anything carbs and I mean that. Eats a lot of bread, pasta, cakes, potatoes...they're the sweetheart of anyone on a budget.

Buffalo cauliflower, likes it more than Buffalo chicken

Chewing gum. Fruit flavors only, hates mint gum. Likes mint elsewhere, just not in gum.

Nickle-nips and other "jelly/juice in a wax package" candies. Likes the charm of it, also, free chewing wax

Suckers/lollipops, big on hard candy in general but the stick satisfies her smoking habit.

Preston; A mix of easy depression/bulk meals and dishes from his childhood. Lots of spices, cooks with a lot of straight peppers. Tends to eat his food 'raw', not made into a dish. Again, easy and quick to eat. Also tends to buy pre-prepared stuff for the same reason, buys more fruits and veggies and just eats them straight. Doesn't care about eating healthy, he just lacks energy to cook most days.

I have no choice to explain this as it has no name. Casserole dish, layer of mashed potatoes, layer of shredded or chunked chicken, layer of white breakfast gravy or brown poultry gravy, top with drop biscuits. It's buttery, its savory, it is white as snow. Easy, cheap, one ladlefull is dinner. You'll get a few meals out of it, and it's so filling you have like, five minutes before you're stuffed. I call it gut-glue.

Dirty rice

Eggs scrambled with spinach

Jollof/jambalaya

Veggies and hummus or ranch

Various fruits and berries such as grapes, cherries, blackberries, and oranges

Shakshouka, eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce and eaten with bread

Chicken biscuits, crackers dusted with, like, chicken bouillon? They taste like a chicken Ramen packet sneezed on a ritz

Slurpees/Icees/those syruped gas station ice drinks

Straight peppers, eats bell peppers like apples. Eats pickled jalapeños and scotch bonnets to feel something. Drinks the liquid in pickle jars instead of alcohol, or mixes it with gelatin and makes pickle jello.

X6-88; Pretensious rich asshole who eats like it. He rarely cooks for himself, probably has a personal chef or something. Maybe his work has their own restaurants, like Google. Eats mostly vegetables, but his favorite foods skew from "Dubai Influencer" to "12 year old who earned too much lawn mowing money and was let loose in a convenience store." So much sugar. Willy Wonka's factory is his idea of heaven and until it exists, he's an atheist.

Raw meats. Steak and tuna tartar, sashimi, and sushi

Braised duck with cherries

Nduja, a spicy pork sausage spread, has it with flatbreads

Oysters. Eats them all fancy in public, eats them from a tin with doritos at home

Anything from Hostess, Little Debbie, those brands. Fucking anything. However, would kill a man for any kind of Swiss roll

Chocolate milk

Gummies, very picky with brands, hates the harder kinds like Haribo. Wants his gummies soft as a marshmellow

Cadbury eggs

Milano dark chocolate cookies

Gushers

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #porter gage

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 1 year

Text

Early Purge/HPSC Purges the hero ranks AU

my brain is still on this.

But anyways so: Before Izuku goes to UA, there's a full scale purge of the hero ranks, where certain heroes are fired/arrested depending on what the HPSC gathered on them. Like for example: Death Arms gets sacked because 1) his performance in the sludge villain attack wasn't great and he's been noted to kind of have a bad time with collateral and 2) super strength is a dime a dozen, he's easy to lose.

Some agencies such as IdaTen, Put Your Hands Up, Endeavour's and Fatgum's all knew this was coming, so they hired a bunch of sidekicks out of the numerous competent heroes to keep them from the purge, which also targets glory hound indies unless of course they have a useful Quirk (such as Mt. Lady as I think Giantification Quirks are rare). When the purge ends, they begin letting the sidekicks loose to be heroes on their own terms.

This... changes things.

For example: Stain attacking Tensei in my head was related to how many sidekicks he had (oh, he gets the glory of them all/he takes advantage) and seeing that the Purge happens and Tensei lets a lot loose kind of... shakes up Stain. Because a lot of Stain's ideology is tied up in the idea he's a lone wolf who targets heroes who society will not punish. He along is the saviour of society, that the world will remember him as the voice of reason, that only the true hero All Might, blah, blah, blah. You get the point.

But here is the HPSC getting rid of so many heroes who were only in it for the money. Leaving behind competent ones, and even posting information on WHY.

Stain's entire shtick gets SHATTERED. And even if he decides they missed son, he's not going to have as big of a platform because people can look shit up about them.

There's other stuff to i would add:

-A purge like this happened about twenty years ago when All Might became known as the symbol of peace five years after he came back to Japan. It's far enough back people forgot about it and a majority of heroes now never experienced it. This is why only some agencies held on, because those heroes or retired heroes passed on the word to them.

-Aizawa gets his own eye-opening because I love the guy, I do. But I am very convinced he has a chip on his shoulder and a bit of a habit of assuming things and refusing to let them go. Seeing the HPSC step up kind of shakes up his own worldview, and he ends up learning that no one told him or warned him because they knew he'd be safe given UA and his Quirk, and because his attitude annoys some people. It leads to him revamping his teaching style upon realizing that the HPSC will take steps if needed to.

-Bakugou gets a very harsh reality check that strength isn't everything, as he looks at reasons why a lot of the heroes got fired. Collateral damage, attitude, popularity... admittedly he doesn't really connect it to himself until... well...

-Nezu cackles and revamps the entrance exam to. Now they get a much longer list of points and reasons why they got them or didn't get points. Bakugou gets a card announcing since he got no rescue points he isn't first for the entrance exam while also lambasting a few other things. He isn't happy.

-This also affects Shinsou. He got a few more points then canon due to the new system, but given they noticed his attitude around 'traditional' heroic Quirks and the fact he's a beanpole in canon until buffing up later, he gets a 'you'll get into the heroics course if you get to the one on ones during the sports festival/someone gets expelled'. His parents hear about this and stick him in therapy due to the fact his attitude cost him.

#bnha #bnha au #the purge of heroes

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giggly-squiggily · 3 months

Note

squiggily my love how are you, i feel like it's been forever since i crashed in your ask box 🖤 i hope the universe gives you the queen treatment you deserve and i will just humbly leave my present in your courtroom and then show myself out to watch from my evil tower of evilness how you open the box and find *drumroooooll* a kny modern au scenario because i'm BACK BABY (moderately so i still need to write job applications but i'm back that's the point)

so anyway the scenario. and it needs to be modern au because. people are alive there.

i've been having some sabito brainrot and he would just be SUCH a horrifying ler, i know it. he knows exactly what teases get to his victim, he knows all their spots, he's agile enough to dodge attacks and strong enough to pin people down, he just has the full package. taking him down is literally impossible.

giyuu tries it. epic fail abort mission the absolute worst day of his life and he's had many of those so you know it's bad.

tanjiro tries it. EPIC fail, sabito is a substitute coach in urokodaki's dojo after all and he knows ALL of tanjiro's moves, it's hopeless.

nezuko tries it. failfailfail because yeah she's cute and dangerous but sabito is a teacher, he knows of the danger that comes from small people and once you see where kids stick their hands you become kinda immune to any kind of cuteness.

giyuu ropes his friends into it. some of them only need a little nudge ("i've been wanting to kill that guy for years" - "SANEMI"), some of them need extra encouragement ("and what's in it for me?" - "fun? exercise? come on kyo..." - "listen if you want this to happen you better treat me to some quality burgers because i won't risk my life for nothing") but in the end they do indeed end up trying their luck. emphasis on trying.

kanae and kyojuro fail spectacularly and publicly because they thought it was a smart idea to ambush sabito on campus. tengen and mitsuri fail embarrassingly because they have all this strength and at the end of the day it really does nothing. sanemi and obanai refuse to talk about it and akaza isn't sure whether he should be absolutely fuming at the defeat or ecstatic that he actually found someone whose martial art skills are on par with his own.

(shinobu and gyomei are smart enough to stay out of the mess and honestly good for them)

except there is one person who can actually take sabito down and that person is makomo. and getting the intel from her was always out of giyuu's pay league (she's EXPENSIVE) but now that sabito has humiliated all of his friends, tengen and his disgusting off-shore untaxed bank account are happy to chip in. and the trick is really just that sabito has one really weird spot but once you get that the rest of his spots sort of unlock like bonus levels and then it's bad. if you're just one person, getting the spot might be hard but well. they're eight now.

that's it i don't have any details after it i just wanted to share the setup. have the most lovliest wonderfullest day and stay hydrated, i will now go rewatch sk8 as i yearn for the ova they announced 🖤🖤

REY! 💖💖💖💖 Hello my love! It’s always a bright day when you come by! I wouldn’t say the universe is treating me very luxurious right now (shark week started and I’m hurting baaaaad 😭) I can’t wait to devour this delightful present! *opens it and gets smacked like a giant boxing glove full of modernAU goodies* YIPPIE! 🥰🥰🥰

SABITO HELP WHZHWJDJSJSJS He’s that one guy you just don’t expect to be so deadly in tickle wars? First glances are deceiving; with his sweet smiles and charming nature you’d think he’d be such an easy lee…BUT THEN- oh as you said; he is DIABOLICAL! Endless knowledge of everyone’s tickle spots combined with his endless agility and strength and there’s no one who can defeat him!

JANZJANZNSNNS SANEMI WHHSB 🤣🤣🤣 He’s so ready to kill good lord! And Rengoku is a MOOD! He’s not going down without proper compensation and I love him for it whsbbsbbsnsbs (Akaza reluctantly impressed is GOLD QJZNANZNSNND 🤣🤣🤣🤣🥰🥰🥰🥰) They all just kinda shuffle back defeated and Giyu’s genuinely concerned there’s no way to defeat Sabito

Makomo knows her worth like a true girlboss and I love her for it whsnwnsnwn TENGEN ABXBNWHSJS He’s not ashamed- Sabito took his built like a building down so fast whsnnwnsns I love the idea of Sabito having such a unknown spot qjsnnsnsns (I don’t know why- I’m thinking elbows; like- just above the joint if you squeeze it with the right pressure it’s like an on switch) He gets all giggly and then shocked cause “Wait that wasn’t supposed to happen” and now everyone’s looking at him like 👀👀👀😈😈😈 and he’s RUNNING!

It goes down in history as the greatest fox hunt of all time- Shinobu took pictures and everything (she needs blackmail for future endeavors) and now Sabito has to get even more creative with his tickly attacks to avoid said antics 🤣🤣🤣 God this AU is so GREAT!

Thank you for sharing Rey! This made my kinda iffy morning a lot better 🥰🥰🥰

#squiggily speaks #ask #myreygn #friend :3 #Hey It’s Rey!#tickle #tickle headcanons #modern au #demon slayer #Sabito #YESH ABBHANZNSNSNS #I adore them so hshxjwjjsns

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phlyaros · 7 months

Note

need more on that monster attracted to death benry au STAT. it's so good actually

Firefox fucking crashed while I was typing this the first time im going to kill god. Tysm but god typing all this out again WOOF.

Okay so it starts here with “I use au's and shipping to explore concepts/characterization that I feel is overlooked/unexplored in canon” and Benry already has a lot of associations with death to me (the skeletons, his explicit dying whereas everyone else has other explanations, his 'song of death', “there are no predetermined deaths”, him being a inscrutable and inevitable force that is only your enemy if you make him so)

this is a horror-aligned thing so uh body horror and other violence under the cut

I have other stories with benry that explore his relationship with death as well, this is just the one where Benry understands how fucking bad it is for Gordon in the first place and it's more of an interpersonal conflict than one of misunderstandings. They still do misunderstand each other but like.

Anyways most of the basic stuff also goes for how I generally interpret Benry; he's a simulacrum of human life basically. He's always been dead, he's never been dead, he's always been alive and he's currently living. I made a thing a while back out of cut up wiki pages to try and explain what I think of him better but never got around to prettying it up.

Anyways. He's something like that one interpretation of a changeling to me; something that's usurped the body and eaten it from the inside out, until all that's left is him. Partially this is a plural thing to me. Old host chipped away over time until it's something else entirely. Whoever he was before doesn't exist anymore. There is only Benry. (what is benry? well, he is.)

And so uh, Deathry specifically is the horse edition of this. He actually looks human most of the time but it's fun to draw him as silly little beasts. Deathry as established is drawn to death; he feeds from this somehow (the horror hunger enjoyer in me said so) but i'm not sure yet if it's a physical sort of eating or more of an energy-based one. Leaning to both, like a vampire.

I tried making him as compatible with canon as possible on the mechanical level at first. Something that's drawn to the doomed and the damned? Well, we all know what the rescas was like. I think he's just so desensitized to death that he does understand the gravity of it on a deeper level but nobody cared when HE died so why bother.

The story itself isn't compatible though because I was listening to my fucked up and evil music and thought to myself “well if two guys were out hiking alone in the woods and one tried to kill the other with an axe would that be fucked up or what” and now that's thoroughly lodged in my head. and uhhhh the personal drama of it all.

Listen. I am a gay man. I think about frenrey and think about them choking each other to death and I giggle and swing my feet. I love when they are violence and killing.

But also I am a gay man and thinking about a literal embodiment of the condition of death sitting in a tent as the guy he personally cut the arm off of (yes, him, personally!) is slowly succumbing to the cold; wrapping Gordon in his jacket, quietly laying on top of Gordon as the weather gets worse through the night, unsure of what else he can do... comparing Gordon's blackened frostbitten fingers interlaced with his own skeletal black hands, Gordon's slowly crawling pulse to his maybe one heartbeat a minute, Gordon's once loud and comprehensive speech slowly descending to confused muttering, becoming more like him. More like dead. The rituals are intricate okay.

And uh something that makes me crazy is that Benry in canon was explicitly the thing that was holding the rift between worlds open and he didn't even. Notice. With Deathry that sheer power manifests as freak weather events, flocks of birds dropping dead mid-flight, interrupting radio signals, making compasses go crazy. That sort of shit.

Deathry also takes pictures in places he ends up. Gordon is fucking flabbergasted at the underwater caves, dive bells from the outside, impossible angles on known landmarks, but it makes sense to him later. Gordon's probably more riled up by all the random shit Benry's collected over the years - what do you mean you don't want this coat covered in decomp?? aren't you cold??

Anyway. Au is also a fun excuse to think about frenrey shenanigans. Turns up in a hospital after being missing for 3 months raving about a guy who defies all physics with wounds that are only a few days old. Thinks about him for the next month until he randomly shows the fuck up with photos of Gordon bleeding in the snow with benry posed with the axe in front of him like they're having a fun girls night out

#phlyaros' nonsense #asks #deathry #merc's art #hlvrai #benry

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sungbeam · 9 months

Note

assign your moots with a romantic trope! (enemies to lovers, soulmate au, etc.)

oh!! hmm interesting endeavor 🤔

a/n: i apologize for how half-assed this feels 😭 my brain isn't braining tbh

@justalildumpling — i want j to have one of those e2l on the surface, absolutely down in the trenches for each other type of aus 😁🤸‍♀️ it's the sneaking around and the banter potential for me!!!

@winterchimez — ally should have one of those vacation romance/fling aus where she meets some guy (AHEM COUGH) on her vacay and they have a whirlwind romance that makes u twirl ur hair and kick ur feet

@zzoguri — i thought of soulmate au for moni tbh :')) like low-key one of those really pretty reincarnation soulmate aus with like falling flower petals in the wind where otp finds each other in each lifetime <//3

@loveliestfelix — there is absolutely no question, it should be the most PAINFUL, THE MOST SAD AND ANGSTY, PULL-OUT-MY-HAIR, BFFS2L EVER. and we all know who it's with 💔💔💔

@jaehunnyy — okay low-key ,,, it should be like a sunshine x grump kind of pairing?? i mean, obviously chip's the literal embodiment of the sun, and so she could def win the heart of anyone 🤔 i think it'd be interesting tbh

@tranquilpetrichor — HELP WAIT ... like an another cinderella au ? like the selena gomez ver ofc. idk i always associate u w dance all the time sorry skfndkfn but i think it would so cute im a SUCKER for that movie TT

@mosviqu — omg wait what about like one of those like 60s aus or something w like the drive-in movies and roller skate drive-thrus where cute people flirt w u from the hoods and trunks of cars .... sighs

@haet-sal — OH WAIT the ggbb trope (゜-゜) but like... good BOY and bad GIRL...? like ur like the cool popular girl w a reputation and the other guy (AHEM COUGH) is like happy go lucky but easily flustered and skdnksnfjd

#sungbeam strikes again #moot ❧#lovely anon <3

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karizard-ao3 · 4 months

Note

YOU GET THE VISION! KAI IS EREN GERDA IS MIKASA!!

The Snow Queen herself might be Ymir Fritz! Please I beg of you tell me everything you thought about it

Okay, I am ready. I have enough of the seeds to have a roughly coherent idea of this could go in a fic setting.

Now, to begin, I am awkward about magical realism. I enjoy it in fiction but I am never sure how to incorporate it myself (which is actually kind of silly when I think about it because I think my original story I'm very slowly chipping away at might be classified as magical realism. But, I digress!), but I like the idea of handling an eremika Snow Queen au as a modern au with a touch of magical realism. I do want Eren to still be pierced with magical mirror shards. I do want Mikasa's tears to warm his heart back up. But, I also really want them in Vegas.

Anyhow. So, let's say we begin with the hobgoblin. I think we should just make him a gambler who happens to own a cursed mirror. He uses it to help him gamble somehow. I think maybe it can penetrate people's poker faces by amplifying negativity (for instance, their negative feelings about their cards). I think maybe he wears it as a charm on a pendant, so it's not very big but he can play with it and kind of peek at people through it during games.

Of course, this ruse can only go on so long, and someone at the Winter Palace casino (eh? eh?) finally catches onto his tricks. They take him up to the roof to scare him and rough him up a bit. They don't kill him but they do take his mirror and grind it to dust beneath their heels. Then, the wind gusts by and sweeps all the pieces away, scattering them about.

Eren and Mikasa, little Kai and Gerda, are young adults by this time. Childhood friends, perhaps, who are making shy advances towards becoming lovers. They do their little white rose and red rose in the same pot thing and it's all very sweet and pure between them. Let's say they live somewhere with seasons but not too far from Las Vegas. I'm going to put them near Lake Tahoe, I think. So, it's a bit of a journey, but not too bad. Plus, then Eren would have a reason to be in Reno, where he would run into the Snow Queen. I'm getting ahead of myself. They live around the Lake Tahoe area. Eren gets a grain of mirror in his eye and a sliver in his heart. It begins to reflect all the negative feelings about himself and all the negative traits in others. He becomes withdrawn and angry and lashes out at people, including Mikasa.

One day, he goes to Reno with some of the guys. Maybe for a birthday party. They're there to gamble or whatever. I don't think they're legal drinking age but they bring a few handles to pregame in their room and also carry flasks to keep drinking while they're out on the town. Eren gets wasted and belligerent. He goes off alone and starts wandering around, looking for trouble. He winds up in front of the Reno Winter Palace, where he starts a fight with someone. Maybe it's one of Ymir Fritz's lackeys. In any case, she sees him from her car as she arrives to check in on her second casino and has her driver wait for a moment. She watches him bleat the ever-loving shit out of this guy and then rolls down her window, stopping the security team from grabbing Eren and motioning him over to her towncar.

"Get in," she says in a cold, glittering voice that brooks no argument.

He does, and she smiles at him and says, "I am looking for a new bodyguard. I think you would be perfect."

He isn't sure, but there's something about her that he feels he can't fight. He thinks briefly of Mikasa, but then Ymir kisses him on the forehead and all his doubts and reluctance vanish. I think we should see her applying her lipstick a lot (and maybe see faint lipstick marks on her other close employees' foreheads? Or, see her hire someone else and also kiss their forehead. idk). We won't admit it has any kind of magical properties but she will say it's made especially for her and that having the right lipstick can make a woman feel more powerful than a snowstorm. Or something like that.

Anyway, they go down to the Winter Palace in Vegas, where Eren is always at Ymir's side. Maybe she takes something away from him (his phone, maybe? So no one can call him? And his wallet and keys?) and locks it up in a safe and tells him that when he can work out the combination, he can take his possesions and go whenever he wants. These are her terms of employment because she's weird.

No one knows where Eren has gone. They wonder if he drunkenly fell in the river (OH MY GOD I didn't even consider the Truckee river when I chose the setting! I was just like, "Yeah, let me get them near some casinos." This is so perfect! Okay, so Eren and Mikasa live near Tahoe in Truckee so she can easily go to the river and do her thing) and died. When he doesn't turn up and they can't get him on his phone and can't trace his credit cards, they go ahead and make that the official story. Mikasa is heartbroken and, when the weather is warm, goes out to the river and throws her most precious red possession (the scarf Eren gave her- his last gift before he turned mean) into it and begs the river to take it in exchange for him. She knows this is silly but she is grieving and desperate. The scarf floats back to the shore and she gets upset and climbs into a rowboat nearby. It's tied to a post (she thinks) so she plans to just paddle out a little but and chuck the scarf in again, but the rope unravels from around the post (it was not tied) and the rowboat drifts away. She's like, "You know what, fuck it. Maybe I'll float down this river and find his body and at least then I'll know." So she lies down in the rowboat and stares up at the sky and wonders where he could be.

She is jarred when the boat runs aground (?) and stops floating. She sits up and finds herself outside someone's little homestead where they also run a flower nursery. The witch brings her in and cleans Mikasa up while Mikasa tells her about Eren and how she can't really believe he's dead. The witch says something about how maybe he's not and Mikasa should trust her gut, but she also gets her high to cheer her up and keeps her high, so Mikasa loses her urgency to find him. She spends most of her time helping the witch in her greenhouse and loses track of time passing. Then, they take mushrooms and Mikasa finds herself having an imaginary conversation with the flowers and the roses specifically start telling her Eren isn't dead because they don't see him under the ground and she remembers what the witch said about following her gut and is like, "I need to keep looking for him. I have to know."

Mikasa takes the witch's old truck and leaves, heading down to Vegas because that's where her gut tells her to go, stopping at roadside diners to eat and showing people pictures of Eren and asking if anyone has seen him. Someone thinks that they might have seen him at the Belvada Hotel in Tonopah (I googled resort hotels in Nevada and thank goodness there's one between Reno and Vegas). He has recently married the proprietor. Mikasa is kind of like, "Oh, okay. So he got married, but at least he's alive, I guess?" and keeps on going down the highway.

In Tonopah, she runs into a free-spirited, vagrant artist type who tells her he knows the couple who runs the hotel. His girlfriend works there as a maid. They're not going to let Mikasa in because all the rooms are booked and she looks kind of scummy because she's barefoot and wearing shorts, a bikini top, her scarf which she fished out of the river, and a flannel shirt she took out of the truck, but he'll see if his gf can get her in the back when it's not too busy.

So, that evening, Mikasa goes in the hotel and they let her in to the room where the newlyweds are sleeping. Why would they be so weird about it? Idk. I guess maybe Mikasa just wants to look at him and make sure he's alive and then leave without him seeing her because he feelings are hurt. Anyway, she sees the back of his head, believes it's him, and can't stop herself from trying to wake him. When he turns around, it's not Eren and she's like, "Fuck, I'm so sorry!" His wife wakes up and they're both put off at first but then she starts to cry and explains her story and they take pity on her. They giver her some better clothes and trade their nice second car for her beat up old truck because the husband likes to work on cars, and they send her on her way.

Nearing Vegas, she stops at another gas station, and that's where she comes across the robbers. Let's make them a motorcycle gang? They see how nice her car and her clothes are and how pretty she is and are thinking maybe they'd like to do some things to her (😡) and the old lady who leads them is laughing about it, but her daughter is like, "Nah, you all have no business sense. You want to use her up yourselves but I'm putting her on Only Fans." And she drags Mikasa off. Mikasa is not interested in being on Only Fans and she's like, "I really need to get going. I'm looking for my best friend." The robber girl is like, "Ugh, fine. Let's go to the bar and I'll get you a beer and you can tell me about it." It's a rough bar and Mikasa is nervous, but she tells the whole story, and a couple of the drunk old regulars are like, "Actually, I know where that guy is. He works for Ymir Fritz in Las Vegas." Another regular, who is a drug addict and the robber girl is his dealer so he pretty much does all her dirty work for free meth, is like, "I used to work in Vegas. I have connections there." The robber girl, who has been moved by Mikasa's plight, is like, "Okay, fine. You bring her to Vegas and help her out, and I'll reward you handsomely."

By the way, this is in Southern Nevada, which is not a super cold place, so we're going to have the AC blasting everywhere and making things chilly af. And, the AC will be unnaturally cold. Sometimes little flakes of ice drift from the vents, making little artificial snow flurries, and people bring winter coats just to go inside the casinos. Why did I set this in the desert? I guess to be contrary. I like that it's so opposite from the fairy tale.

The meth-addicted guy brings her to a showgirl he knows who is pretty familiar with everything that goes on in Las Vegas, and she's like, "Oh, yeah. Her new bodyguard. That guy is cold. He won't give anyone the time of day, he just hovers at the Snow Queen's side with a dark expression and dead eyes. They're always up in the penthouse, so they're impossible to reach unless you've got a way in. I know someone who might be able to help. I'll send you to her."

The woman they are sent to is a sculptor, and it's hot as hell in her workshop by her forge. She just happens to be delivering an art piece to Ymir the next day. After Mikasa tells her story, the woman tells her she can deliver it so she can get up to the penthouse and see her Eren. The guy asks her if there's anything she can forge for Mikasa that will help her have the strength to overcome these final hurdles, but the sculptor says nothing is stronger than Mikasa's love, and if that's not enough to bring Eren home, nothing she could make for her would help. The next day, the guy brings Mikasa and the sculpture to the Winter Palace casino and then goes back to the sculptor's place to see if he can get bus money back home and she makes him go to rehab instead.

In the Winter Palace, Mikasa has to insist again and again that she must deliver the package herself, that she's not to entrust it to anyone else. Finally, she makes it to the penthouse, which is almost as cold as a meatlocker and decorated in a snowlflake motif. Ymir is in her room, bathing or something, and Eren is alone in the main room, trying to solve the combination to the safe, which is a weird safe with a pad containing all the letters of the alphabet twice. Mikasa comes in and sees him and he is surprised to see her. He still has a smudge of lipstick on his forehead and he has been so long without the things that identify him (literally his state issued ID) and connect him to the rest of the world (his phone) that he has forgotten his old life and he is not quite sure who Mikasa is. She puts down the package and runs to him, though, throwing herself into his arms and sobbing. As the one anon suggested, she puts the scarf around Eren's neck because he feels so cold. And then she weeps. Her hot tears drip onto his shirt and soak through to his chest, where they melt his icy heart. This makes him cry, and, in rubbing the tears from his cheeks, he rubs his whole face, wiping away the lipstick mark and also the grit from the mirror that was in his eye, and he is himself again. He spins Mikasa around, laughing and kissing her, and as he's doing so he accidentally bumps into the safe with his calf. Somehow, his calf manages to press the code (the word, "Eternity") into the pad and the door springs open. Eren gets his things and grabs Mikasa's hands, running with her out of the cold, excessively air conditioned penthouse to the slightly less frigid casino proper, and then out into the hot desert air (which is actually not bad in winter, I think.)

Then they go back home to Truckee and get married and set up house in a little mountain cottage outside of town and are very happy together.

The end.

???????????????? Do you have any additions? Any of your own takes??? let me know!

#ask me things #my asks #answered asks #eremika #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #attack on titan #ymir fritz #the snow queen #hans christian andersen

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