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valeisaslut · 6 days ago

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Hey, if you're up for it, could you write like a twisted fairytale inspired fic for ellie pls. Like flynn rider ellie would EAT. Huntsman! Ellie and snow white reader would EAT. Btw im in love with your writing MWAH

if this is a fairytale, let it be the wrong kind ࿐

❀ word count: 2.5k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

❀ content warnings: fairytale-like au, huntsman!ellie x princess!reader, fluff, soft romance, gentle tension, yearning, pining, implied class difference, longing, mutual awe and aching, AFAB reader, likes, reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

the morning begins with lace.

fine as gossamer, soft at the wrists—your favorite dress, dove-white, threaded with blue silk that catches the light when you move, pearl buttons climbing up the slope of your spine. it was sewn for parlors and politeness, for tea at noon and embroidery at dusk. for sitting straight and talking softly.

not for this. not for grass-stained hems and the hush of the early afternoon pressing cool against your skin.

but something inside you aches today, not a sharp one. not the kind that demands, or cries. this one is quiet, steady. the ache of rooms that remain always quiet, of footsteps too graceful and always being watched.

so you slip out.

before the cooks stir the hearth, before your sisters rise for lessons, you pad barefoot through the servants’ wing. past the rose trellis, past the fountain with the cracked cherub, past the garden gates no one expects you to cross.

and the woods greet you like an old friend.

they stretch together—green, unspoken, older than your lineage, older than the palace. the trees rise like cathedral columns, their limbs tangling high above your head in whispered praise. sunlight breaks through in speckled ribbons, and somewhere, water hums over stone.

the forest remembers what the castle forgets. and you, the youngest daughter of a crown too heavy, come here to be forgotten.

you step lightly, in silence, alone. or so you believe.

because from the thicket — unseen, quiet, breath held tight behind a branch — a pair of green eyes watch you.

ellie doesn’t believe in fairytales.

she believes in the weight of blood in snow, of meat over her shoulder, of a clean shot held steady in her lungs.

she’s been tracking this buck since sunrise — wide rack, steady gait, a good kill. one bullet could feed the village for days. it’s not the first time she’s watched through her scope and lined up the end of something.

but then a girl steps into her view.

barefoot, graceful, glowing — dressed in something white and weightless, fabric soft enough to catch the light like water. your hem brushes the ferns, but you move as if gravity forgot you. as if the world, with all its mess and weight, doesn’t dare cling to you the way it does to everyone else.

ellie’s breath catches.

she’s seen a thousand things in these woods. blood, bones, beauty in pieces.

but never anything quite like you, never anyone that beautiful. never anyone that makes her wonder if their feet even touch the ground.

the buck lifts his head, but doesn’t run.

you move towards him slowly, hands open, soft whispers spilling from your lips in a language not meant for soldiers or servants. soft and strange, tender in a way ellie has never heard before. a language meant for gentler things.

and then your hand — careful, dainty — grazes the velvet of his antlers, and he stays.

ellie’s finger slips from the trigger.

something unfurls in her chest. not a snap, not a shatter, but a slow pull. like the first thread coming loose from a tightly sewn seam, sharp and unfamiliar, pressing against the inside of her throat.

you smile.

and her heart does something it’s never done before.

it aches.

just slightly, just once, but it’s enough to make her gasp.

and in the still air of the forest, you hear it.

“hello?”

you lift your head, and your voice carries like wind through leaves— light, curious. it sounds like music, it’s sweet like honey on spring.

ellie freezes. still crouched behind the brush, rifle lowered, heart pounding loud enough to startle birds from trees.

she then steps accidentally on a branch, wincing at the snap and cursing under her breath. your head turns sharply towards the sound.

“who’s there?” you call, still gentle, but now laced with the kind of fear that doesn’t come from fairytales.

then a girl steps out from the brush slowly, rifle slung over her shoulder, both hands raised in harmless surrender.

“s-sorry,” she says, voice low. “didn’t mean to scare you.”

you blink, and so does she.

you have never seen anyone quite like her.

sun-warmed, broad at the shoulders, sleeves rolled to her elbows, arms smudged with dirt. her right forearm is speckled with ink, markings that curl and bloom down to her wrist, somewhere between maps and magic. her auburn hair is tied back in a loose, messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. freckles dot her cheeks and nose, scattered like constellations. her eyes — green, striking — meet yours without hesitation.

and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

you hadn’t expected a girl, and definitely not a girl like this. not one this handsome, this rough-edged, this beautiful. not one dressed in worn canvas and leather, boots scuffed, looking more myth than maiden.

she startles you. not because she’s threatening — but because she doesn’t look like any girl you’ve ever seen around the castle.

and she’s looking at you like she’s not sure you’re real, either.

“i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you finally mumble softly, your cheeks warming.

“you didn’t,” she replies, voice gentle. “he let you get close.”

you glance toward the buck, already slipping away into the trees, unbothered.

“i just…love animals,” you admit.

ellie’s mouth quirks at the corner.

“that’s why you came all the way out here in a dress worth more than everything i own?”

you laugh, bright and unfiltered. “you think this is my finest dress?”

she lifts a brow, teasing. “well, it ain’t exactly hunting gear.”

you smile, faint and fragile, and then you hesitate.

“…are you a hunter?”

she nods, eyes not leaving your face. “yeah,” she says. “had him in my sights.”

“the buck?”

“mhm.” she shifts, and there’s something sheepish in the way her voice dips. “but then you stepped out from the trees and… yeah. ruined the whole thing.”

your mouth drops open, scandalized. “i did not!”

“you did,” she says, grinning. “completely.”

you cover your mouth with your hand, laughter caught somewhere between apology and delight. “oh—i’m so sorry—”

“don’t be,” she interrupts gently, shoulders lowering. “i’m not mad. just… surprised.”

you tilt your head. “surprised?”

“that you chased off the deer,” she says, then flicks her eyes over your dress again, that faint smile tugging at her lips, “and that someone who looks like you would wander into these woods alone.”

your cheeks blaze, and you can’t stop it. it’s the way she looks at you — sharp and soft all at once, like she can see straight down to the bone — that makes your heart trip and race, beating harder, louder, like it’s trying to escape. like it’s waking up to a feeling it’s never felt before.

“well,” you say, quiet and a little breathless, “sometimes princesses get tired of being watched.”

and just like that, the air changes.

ellie freezes.

princess.

the word lands heavy between you. and now, of course, it all makes sense.

your voice, your posture, the embroidery on your cuffs. the single gold ring on your right hand, with the family crest etched into the band as a promise you didn’t ask to wear.

ellie lowers her eyes and bows her head slightly.

“your highness.”

you wrinkle your nose. “oh, don’t do that.”

she lifts a brow. “do what?”

“that! the bowing, the title,” you say, waving a hand between you. “it ruins it.”

“ruins what?”

“this moment.” your voice is quieter now. “i’d like to pretend, just for five minutes, that i’m not who i’m supposed to be.”

she studies you, green eyes tracing the lines of your face like she’s reading a book she never imagined she’d be allowed to hold.

“then who are you?”

you inhale slowly. the warm breeze stirs your hair, tugs soft at your skirts.

“…a girl,” you say, “that talks to a buck.”

a silence settles between you, delicate as spun sugar.

“what’s your name?” she asks, not like she’s demanding it, more like she’s hoping you’ll trust her with it.

you hesitate, but only for a breath.

“it’s—” your voice softens, as if saying it aloud might undo the spell. “y/n.”

ellie’s lips curve around it, soundless, tasting it in her mouth before saying it back.

“y/n,” she repeats. “suits you.”

you tilt your head, curious. “and you?”

“ellie,” she says. “just ellie.”

“...ellie” you smile. “suits you, too.”

she grins, a little sheepish, a little proud. “i’ve never heard it sound that pretty before.”

and for a moment, the forest breathes around you — slow, golden, endless — and your names hang between you like a promise.

her eyes crinkle.

“you always talk to animals?”

you blink. “yes. why?”

ellie shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “just seems... personal. like they know things you don’t tell anyone else.”

“they do,” you say, half-teasing, half-serious. “they’re the best secret-keepers.”

she laughs, low, surprised. “guess i missed out, growin’ up with chickens and hogs instead of deers and doves.”

you grin. “and what would you tell them?”

“hm?”

“if you had your own creatures, what would you tell them?”

ellie goes quiet for a moment. then, “maybe that i wanna leave sometimes. just pack up and keep walking past the river and the mountains.”

you blink. “why haven’t you?”

she flicks a pine needle off her sleeve. “because someone’s gotta stay”

“so you stay for others?”

“not exactly” she looks at you again — really looks. “do you?”

you don’t answer right away. instead, you smooth your skirt, glance at your bare feet in the moss.

“…i do,” you admit. “but sometimes i wonder what it would be like to wake up with no one expecting anything from me.”

“i wonder the same,” she says. softer now. “except the other way ‘round.”

you lift your eyes.

“what do you mean?”

ellie picks at the edge of a callus on her thumb.

“i think i’d like someone waiting. just one person, expecting me to come back.”

the hush that follows feels almost holy.

a breeze rustles the ferns. the leaves above you catch the light, spill it down in golden strings. petals tumble lazily from a nearby branch, spiraling to the ground like blessings.

there’s nothing clever left in either of your mouths. just awe, just quiet.

ellie shifts. clears her throat. “you wanna sit?”

you nod.

right there, in the grass, knee to knee, sunlight balmy on your shoulders, you watch her pull her legs up and rest her arms on her knees. her eyes keep soft but her voice is a little steadier now.

you talk.

about animals, books, your childhoods. she tells you about the time she tried to tame a raccoon, and got bit on the ankle for her troubles. you tell her about the time you dropped your crown into the fishpond during a royal procession and jumped in after it, dress and all.

“and you just jumped in?” she repeats, laughing.

“i was six,” you say. “i thought it was enchanted.”

“was it?”

“no. i smelled like fish for a week.”

you both dissolve into laughter.

and god—it feels so real.

there’s a rhythm to her voice, a music to it. her drawl catches the ends of her words like soft twine. you catch yourself watching her lips more than once.

and ellie’s watching you, too. every time you laugh, every time you push a strand of hair behind your ear, every time you glance up at the sky, nervous you’ve stayed too long.

which you have, because the sun is starting to set, pouring warm aureate through the trees. and because the ache in your chest is only growing.

you glance at the treeline, reluctantly. “i should go.”

ellie’s jaw ticks. “me too.”

you both stand. brush the grass from your skirt, shake the dirt from your sleeves. she rises beside you, and just like that, you remember how her shoulders slope like a drawing come to life. how the light kisses her freckles, how her eyes are the color of moss and storms and something you’ve aren’t sure if you will ever be brave enough to name.

you fidget. she watches you.

“…about the buck,” you begin, suddenly timid. “i really didn’t mean to ruin your hunt—”

“don’t worry about it,” she says quickly, voice low and fond. “i think he earned the day off.”

you smile.

then you step closer, just a little. not quite valorous enough to touch each other, but close enough to feel the heat of your bodies.

“will you be here tomorrow?”

she shrugs, but there’s a flicker in her voice.

“maybe.”

“maybe?”

“depends if another girl comes wandering into the woods and ruins my shot.”

you narrow your eyes. “you’re blaming me again.”

“not blaming,” she says. “just… hoping.”

and you laugh, soft and quiet, but so bright it finds its way between her ribs, making her chest ache as a pulled bowstring.

“i hope you’re here,” you murmur. “i mean it.”

ellie swallows.

“i hope the same.”

you don’t say goodbye. you don’t have to.

there’s something about the way you look at each other before parting — something quiet and knowing — that makes words unnecessary. your fingers never touch, but they flex in tandem. your paths diverge, but your steps feel tangled.

you walk barefoot back up through the woods, your hem damp with dew and heart too full to carry properly. the world feels different now. lighter, overall, but heavier in places you’ve never noticed before.

behind you, ellie stays in the clearing long after your glowing figure disappears behind the trees. her hand lingers on the bark of the tree where you sat, her thumb pressed into the groove where your skirt rustled the moss.

and something in her, restless and tender, doesn’t follow her home.

it follows you.

that night, in your canopied bed with silk sheets and moonlight spilling over the pillows, you bury your face in your hands and whisper her name into the stillness. once, then again, just to see if it feels real.

ellie.

it does.

more real than anything else has in your life.

your maid knocks once, gently, to ask if you’re feeling well. you don’t answer. you just smile to yourself, and say nothing.

miles away, in a low cabin tucked between two hills and swallowed in pine, ellie lies flat on her back, boots still on, one arm thrown over her eyes. the fire is down to embers, the windowless walls creak with wind.

she should be asleep, should be out cold after the miles she walked and the meal she skipped.

but her whole body is humming. her lips tilt into a foolish, beautiful smile, and her chest aches. warm, sharp, like it’s learned a new language.

she keeps thinking about the way you laughed — high and sweet and sudden, as if you hadn’t done it in a long time. she keeps replaying the moment your eyes glinted, the way your lips parted, the blush that bloomed slow and shy across your cheeks when you saw her for the first time.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you were never meant to meet.

she’s a hunter. you’re a princess.

she smells like smoke and sleeps in wool. you smell like flowers and dreams and wear pearls on your wrists.

you belong to opposite worlds.

but even still — lying there in the dark, fingers curled into the edge of her blanket, teeth worrying her lip — ellie can’t help but think:

if this is a fairytale, then let it be the wrong kind.

because god, what a feeling.

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW LETS ALL JUST AWWWWWWW IN TANDEM BECAUSE AWWWW HEART IS MELTINNNGGG!! first time writing something like this HEHEHE wanted to try out fluff and romance and i kinda really liked the result!!! hope yall did too <3333 thank you nonnie for the request love youuuu

perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andieprincessofpower @mayfldss @sunflowerwinds @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliewilliamskisser2000 @azxteria @elliecoochieeater

images from pinterest - edited by me

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alexxx-malev · 2 years ago

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Astrakhan 21 by Alexxx Malev Via Flickr: Russia. Astrakhan. Kremlin. Trinity Cathedral with the churches of the Presentation of the Lord and the Introduction in Virgin Mary Church Астрахань. Кремль. Троицкий Собор с церквями Сретения Господня и Введения во храм Пресвятой Богородицы

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enyaliuswrites · 5 months ago

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➽ Love and Deepspace University/College AU

Multiple characters x fem!reader tags: fluff, reader doesn’t have to be mc, college au, university au, reader doesn't have to be in a relationship with character but it is slightly implied

Xavier is an Astronomy & Astrophysics major typa student with a minor in Philosophy. You guys can disagree with me, that's just what I see it as.

Xavier is the type of student that walks around campus to find the best places to sleep and professors and students are genuinely worried when they find him sleeping on a tree. (The shade was better and no one would disturb him, he argues).

Xavier is the student that is always asleep in class and just stays there even if the next class is coming into the lecture room (poor boy, someone should've woken him up fr).

However, his grades aren't in the earth’s core. His grades are actually perfect. Sky High. He probably dreams about his studies in a fun way or something.

He doesn't have many friends, only 1 really close one, Jeremiah, whom they both don’t see each other very often. They have a sort of friendship that without meeting they know they’ll forever be there for each other.

You guys met because you were taking a nap on a particularly windy day, the weather wasn't so sunny and the breeze wasn't so cold, a perfect day to study under a tree and accidentally doze off I say. Unbeknownst to you, that was where Xavier would usually sleep as well. He was about to leave to go to one of his other sleeping spots but then something caught his eye.

A butterfly flying over to you and landing on your head. It was quite a sight and just in that moment you woke up. You were startled by the Sophomore Xavier in front of you and scared the butterfly off. You guys stayed there in silence for a bit before somehow it turned into you both dozing off under the tree.

From that day onwards, you guys would meet under that tree to study, talk or nap and you guys grew closer day by day.

Xavier definitely tries to help with your homework but instead his head is on the table and his mind is in the land of dreams. He really tries, but his sleeping schedule is too packed.

Watching the skies is definitely a must with him. Whether it be the night sky or the day sky—setting up a cute picnic to lie down and just point at clouds, saying what they reminded you of. Or watching the stars and the moon while basking in each other’s comfortable silence.

Xavier definitely writes love poems in class to give you later but he’ll never read them out loud to you, only when you’re about to fall asleep then he’ll read it.

He always tries to cook for you but always somehow starts a fire, even while trying to make something as simple as Kimbap or sushi. So now he’s banned from the kitchen and you have him help you with the most simplest of tasks (measuring out ingredients or cutting vegetables) instead.

“Xavier, why do I smell burning?” “I think the egg might be a little overcooked.” “Xavier, it's on fire! How on earth did you mess up an omelet that badly?!” “I followed what you said. Should I try again?” “NO!”

Xavier definitely takes you to places where he naps and the most breathtaking, picturesque and comfortable place. An old cathedral courtyard, a secluded rooftop garden on a building on campus, a secret garden on campus with a clearing in the middle. During these times when the sun is setting is when he recites poems he read or wrote to you.

Zayne is obviously a medical student specializing in cardiology. I mean it’s clear as day.

He’s the type of student that never skips any school and doesn’t break any rules whatsoever. Sick? At school with a mask on. Injured? At school with a cast. Literally on the brink of death? At school with an IV bag and breathing tube. (exaggeration)

His back is straight in classes and you’ll never catch him slacking off his perfect posture. It’s kind of creepy, sometimes. He’s the student that always raises his hand to answer the professor that over time the professors are like “I know you know. I want to see if other students know.”

He’ll never share notes. As in, even if other people look at his notes they can’t understand his handwriting. Zayne’s notes are always so organized and clean that no one believes that he did that in a single class alone.

He definitely gets a lot of love letters. Girls go crazy for this man, (you and me included) they often try to invite him to help tutor them or to grab a bite. He always says the same thing, “If you’d had paid attention then you would understand.” and then just leaves.

He’s always in the library, studying during freshman and sophomore year. In his Junior year he started interning at a nearby hospital and from that day he just became 10 times more busy.

You guys met by chance—Senior Zayne was interning at the hospital and treated you after you pushed yourself too hard, eventually fainting, which is how you ended up here. (Gotta thank your bestfriend for being so worried she rushed you to the hospital.)

He saw you on campus the next day and at first he didn’t really care much, however after seeing you stumble around (you were just daydreaming) he came over and gave you a tiny lecture about caring for your health.

Somehow, that led to him visiting you after classes to give you a juicebox “To regulate your blood sugar” or a fruit, like a banana “Bananas are high in potassium, lowering the risk of a heart disease.” He’ll say that he’s your personal doctor-in-training and always encourages you to eat healthy by getting dinner at a clean restaurant. But, you still often catch him eating sweets and it always makes you laugh.

He never outright says that he wants to see you, he’ll make a thousand excuses instead. Sometimes, he’ll say that you’re late to a scheduled appointment with him.

“You’re late to your appointment.” “I’m pretty sure I just had one with you the day before yesterday.” “You left your pen here the other day, you should come get it.” “Zayne, just say you want to see me.”

Study dates are 99% of the dates you have with him. Both of you are entirely focused on your piles of assignments and study materials. If one of you has more free time than the other, you simply sit in silence and watch him concentrate—and he does the same for you.

Even though he’s extremely busy, as a medical student in his Senior year, he still makes plenty sure that you can feel his love. Whether that be sending a quick text in the morning or before he does something.

Sometimes when you guys meet he’s really tired so don't mind him taking a quick nap on your shoulder or around you. Make sure to snap a picture and use that as blackmail material afterwards, hehe.

Rafayel is a Fine Arts student for sure. He loves arts in all forms, painting, sketching, photography, scrapbooking, sculpture, fashion, the list goes on and on.

He’s the type of student that arrives fashionably late and always has some crazy ideas with his final projects and in the end he gets the highest grade. His artwork is actually one of the prides of the university/college and he’s extremely down to earth about it, only wanting to paint the things he sees in his dreams perfectly.

He definitely has people who want to be friends with him but he just treats everyone the same. Sassy and indifferent. Except for one friend who saw incredible potential in him and always helped him, making his art go famous around campus and earning Rafayel some money (Thomas).

Rafayel is the type of student that walks around the campus for inspiration as well as walking around the city to get inspiration, often finding hidden treasures of places, tucked-away cafes, historic museums, indie theatres, vintage shops.

He definitely spends a lot of his time at the sea and most of his artworks are inspired by the underwater world. He spends time near the swimming pool when no one is there, during the late nights or early mornings.

Being very popular and famous around campus, he has many admirers which he all just waves away. He couldn’t care less, the only thing he cares about is his art and the girl he met when he was at what he called his ‘secret hideout’.

You were a little stressed from studies so you decided to walk around campus, exploring the different buildings and rooms. Unexpectedly, you found yourself in an old art gallery—the lights were turned off and the only source of light was from the sun’s rays. You stayed there for a while, even though the door was dusty and the room was cluttered with old art supplies, you presumed that this was an art supply room.

Suddenly, that was when a Sophomore Rafayel walked in and saw you standing in front of one of his old paintings. A painting that he tried experimenting with a new style of technique, one that he was embarrassed of so he hid it here. He yelped when you saw you, he thought you were a ghost.

You guys talked for a while before you parted ways, however after hearing you talking about why you liked his art (he didn’t admit it was him) he grew an interest in you.

A few days later when you were free you decided to come and absorb the peaceful atmosphere of the old gallery again, however much to your surprise Rafayel was there as well.

“You know how many days I waited for you? Why didn’t you come sooner? If I get an allergy from all of this dust you’re paying for my medical bills.” “I don’t think that’s how allergies work-” “Don’t change the subject!”

You guys became close pretty quick. His words, although sometimes quirky and sassy, were also full of depth and emotion. Whenever he talked about art or the sea he had a glint in his eyes and a nostalgic solemn tone in his voice.

Dates with him are usually you doing your work while he paints or sketches you. He’ll always show you what he cooked up while you were focused but he’ll always say how it’s never perfect and that, “I can’t capture how perfect you are, cutie.”

You guys often visit the sea, taking long walks on the beach during the day and during the night while he tells you stories of his dreams and his own fascination with the world under the waves. He often makes you cute accessories out of seashells and will always gift you something handmade after classes.

Walking around campus and finding more cool places where you’ve explored is a must with him. He’ll rub circles with his thumb, holding your hand as you guys explore rooftop gardens and just talk about dreams or studies.

Sylus is definitely a business faculty typa student. For his major it might be international trade or something of the sort.

He’s the type of student that skips most of his classes but gets a perfect grade.

When he does come to class he’ll definitely be dozing off but when there's assignments he always somehow gets full marks. If the professor calls on him he’ll answer correctly and eventually professors just stop trying to catch him lacking (they never can).

He’ll come and go as he pleases and no one really says anything, too afraid to mess with him since everywhere he walks people just keep their eyes down or walk the other way. (I mean have you seen the Lunar New Year event? Bro was sticking out so much)

He definitely has LOADS of rumors about himself on campus but bro does NOT care. And the rumors are hella crazy too, and what's even crazier is that no one knows if they’re true or not. “I heard that he beat up a couple of students the other day so badly they were all hospitalized.” “Well, I heard that he’s involved with the mafia and does their dirty work for them.” “You guys are all wrong. He is the Mafia boss! He’s just working undercover here!”

Sylus doesn't have any friends. Well, except two identical twins that always follow him around as well as a crow (strange friends if you ask me). Luke and Kieran are like his lackeys but without the mistreatment, they’ll always help him with the little things while he’s out and about doing some shady businesses outside of school.

You guys definitely met because of something random and cliche. Sylus, the mysterious senior that you bumped into in the hallway, causing your drink to stain him, you and your work. You apologized and after a while he shrugged it off and let you off the hook. However, you kept seeing him around after that day and on the days that you didn’t, you would see a crow instead.

The crow would sometimes have a candy in his mouth or a kopiko (those coffee candies). Over time you’d see Sylus more often and he’d sometimes strike a conversation and you’d continue it and before you know it he’ll be showing up outside of your class and walk with you around campus for a quick bite or even to send you to your next class. Of course, people always stare or quickly shuffle away whenever you pass by.

He sometimes brings you a little something after class when you meet up. A juicebox. Milk. Coffee. Maybe even a little baked good. He often drives you around, whether that be on his motorcycle or his car, he lets you pick. Honestly, at this point he’s like your chauffeur. All he wants to see is your smile.

Dinner dates are an absolute must with him, whether that be eating out at a fancy restaurant or him cooking for you at his place.

During study dates you guys will definitely go to a reclusive hidden cafe that he found and order something little to help fuel you. He’ll watch you and help you if you need it (you have to beg a little for it though). He has the most messed up sleeping schedule so please let him rest when he suddenly dozes off while watching you study.

Sylus will definitely drag you out of class, saying that there’s an emergency and the professor allows him too, totally buying into his words as you both walk away. Why? All because you complained to him that you didn’t want to sit in this class and that it was boring.

“Sylus! Why’d you do that?!” “Didn’t you say that you didn’t like it? That you hated it, sweetie?” “I did, but you can’t just do that!” “Let’s go get dinner. We can go to that place you love to go to.” “…Okay, let’s go.”

Caleb is an Aerospace Engineering student and a good one at that. (I mean have you read his anecdotes??)

Caleb is similar to Zayne, he never misses a class and is a top grade student. Scoring the top in every class. Honestly, everyone is jealous of him (me included).

He’s the type of student that shares his close friends with his notes and even sometimes helps tutor them. He’s loved by all his friends and everyone who works with him, whether that be group work or just striking up a conversation with him.

He’s extremely popular, due to his energetic personality, natural leadership and how reliable of a person he is. However, it feels like almost no one really knows him. He seems like an open book but he’s really a mystery to everyone, even his close friends.

He gets a lot of love letters as well, however as soon as he sees them he rips them and throws them in the bin.

He’s a great actor, (He definitely fooled me in the main story, got scared so much) and uses that to his advantage. He’s definitely involved in some shady things on campus, but no one knows. One time someone tried to create rumors about him and the next day those rumors instantly stopped.

You met Caleb through your friend. Caleb being a Junior at your university as well as the older brother of a friend of yours since middle school. You guys met once or twice back when you were in middle school but he remembered you up till the day he saw you on campus, dozing off at the library.

When you woke up you didn't expect an apple to be on your table along with a little note, “Fuel yourself for the rest of the day!” along with a doodle of an apple. You didn't eat it, afraid that it was poisoned (You weren't going to be the next Snow White).

One day you bumped into him while leaving one of your classes and he immediately striked a conversation. While reminiscing about when you guys were younger you guys walked to a nearby cafe and grabbed a drink together. The conversation developed into updating each other about life and what you guys were planning for the future and you realized that you were about to be late for your next class. Before going he quickly scribbled his contact on a piece of sticky note and you swear that you’ve seen that handwriting somewhere before.

Ever since that day he’s always accompanied you to your classes and back. 9am class? He’ll be there to walk you there, even a little snack in his hand, usually an apple. 5pm? He’ll be there with a piece of candy, to help fuel you for the last class.

He’ll always scare other boys off, whether it be putting an arm around your shoulder when he sees someone looking or holding your waist and pulling you towards him. He’ll take whatever you say after, nagging him for being too open or catching you off guard.

It’s a back and forward of him going over to your place or you going to his and eating his home cooked dinners. Eating out is barely a thing with Caleb, he loves to cook for you and secretly wishes that you love it too.

He’s extremely clingy and possessive. Even if you want to hang out with other people he’ll always ask a lot of questions, but he’ll never be overly possessive.

“Who are you going with?” “Just a few friends.” “Where? For how long?” “Nowhere. I’ll take a couple of hours, maybe. Caleb, don't worry.” “I’ll pick you up when you finish. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. You can tell me if you want to leave early.”

He’s definitely the type of student that’ll help you with your assignments even if that means doing extra research on the topic you’re struggling with to help you.

A/N: totally wasn't writing this while stuck in accounting class. This actually took me longer than I thought and I bet I still have more things to add even now, but this is what I imagined in my head today. Stay delusional! (*´∀`*) Art creds : Love and Deepspace Dividers by @omi-resources

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shannaroooooo · 2 years ago

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Ice sculptures inside Kakslauttanenâ€™s Igloo Hotel, Finland

#Snow Cathedral #Saariselka #Resort #Lapplands län #Saariselkä

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chrissssssmut · 2 months ago

Note

oh btw that dominant ningning g!p smut

it's a college au ningning graduating student y/n is an freshman student

While that 10 member yandere request that wendy momo miyeon yeji giselle ruka natty minju liz yeseo (btw that minju is from illit)

PROJECT SSERAFIM

Wendy, Momo, Miyeon, Yeji, Giselle, Ruka, Natty, Minju, Liz and Yeseo x Male Reader

AN: Wanted this one to be longer but this is all i got :<

Rome, 3:07 a.m.

“Thou shalt not speak their names.”

The halls beneath the Vatican Library were not meant to echo, yet every footstep you took sang out like a tolling bell. Cold air clung to you like a veil. Between the iron gates and twisting stairwells, you felt something ancient breathing.

Archivist. That was your title.

Glorified bookkeeper, really.

But tonight, you held a key that hadn’t been turned in seventy years.

They called it the Vault of Seraphim—home to ten exiled celestial beings, sealed in human form after the War of Heaven. Their names had been stricken from every gospel, hidden in fractured scripture and forbidden texts.

But you found them.

Or maybe… they found you.

You inserted the key.

The lock clicked.

And the door… opened.

The chamber was circular, like a cathedral turned inside-out. Ten massive glass coffins stood in a ring, their surfaces etched in Latin prayers and divine sigils.

Each coffin contained a girl.

Young. Still. Beautiful in ways that made your chest tighten and your mind rebel. Their forms were barely clothed in ceremonial white, golden light faintly pulsing around their wrists and ankles—angelic restraints.

Do not speak with them. Do not listen. Do not name them.

But your eyes wandered.

The first one. Chestnut hair, serene face, lips curved like she was dreaming of heaven.

“Wendy,” you whispered, breath caught in awe.

A crack formed on the glass.

You froze.

A slow, almost imperceptible sound, like breath fogging up from the inside.

Then—her eyes opened.

Blue. Bright. Burning.

“...You said my name.”

You stumbled back. The Latin seals on her coffin began to glow red.

“Who are you?” you asked, heart hammering.

She smiled—slow, reverent, loving.

“Mine.”

You ran.

You didn’t make it far.

Behind you, another glass coffin splintered.

“Yah…” a voice echoed in the chamber, light and teasing. “You spoke to her first?”

Another girl. Momo, the name slipped into your mind uninvited. Her coffin now open, her expression twisted between pouting and delight. She stepped out barefoot, trailing a shimmering chain of holy bindings behind her like a bridal veil.

“You’re not supposed to pick favorites,” she whispered.

You backed into the wall. “What is this? What the hell is this?!”

Another voice now, sharp like silk cut by a knife.

“Hell?”

She laughed.

“You’re not in Hell yet,” said Miyeon, her own eyes now glowing behind fractured glass. “But you will be. Once the others wake up and see what you’ve done.”

You were dragged from the vault by the guards, screaming about moving statues and voices in the glass. They said you were delirious from lack of sleep.

You were forbidden from returning to the lower levels.

So you started dreaming of them instead.

“Archivist…”

“We remember you…”

“You belong to us now…”

Wendy’s voice was soft in your sleep. Always calm, always worshipful. She told you that Heaven lied. That the Church was the cage, not the savior. That you, and only you, could free them. Could give them meaning again.

Momo, on the other hand, was chaos.

“I bet you dream about touching us, don’t you?”

“You want to see what an angel tastes like?”

She dragged her nails across your chest in the dream, whispering sins in your ear.

You woke up bleeding.

You snuck into the vault again. You had to.

You found Yeji’s coffin already broken.

She was awake.

Sitting calmly on the floor, wings folded behind her, golden chains coiled like snakes around her ankles.

“I heard you speak her name,” she said quietly.

“Whose?”

“Wendy’s,” she said. “And Momo’s.”

You swallowed.

“It’s not fair.”

She stood. The room darkened around her like light itself bowed to her will.

“I was your favorite once. You just don’t remember.”

Slam.

You were pinned to the wall. Not by force—by guilt. By her gaze.

Her lips brushed your ear.

“If you say her name again,” she whispered, “I’ll crush her throat while you watch.”

You stopped sleeping.

You stopped speaking their names.

But they still came to you.

Giselle, with eyes like stained glass, whispered sacred poetry laced with obsession. She started writing in your books. Pages turned themselves and bled ink.

Natty appeared in mirrors, brushing her long hair and asking how she should look for you.

Minju left feathers on your pillow. Not white ones—black.

Liz began writing hymns in her own blood, dedicated to you, signed Your Eternal Voice.

Yeseo simply stared at you. Silent. Expressionless. But her presence made the air crackle with ancient hunger.

You began to lose your grip.

You stopped recognizing your own reflection. It looked… happier. Smiling when you weren’t.

You tried confessing to a priest.

He went missing the next day.

The security footage showed nothing.

Just a flutter of feathers.

You bought a one-way train ticket out of Rome at sunrise.

No luggage. Just a backpack and a cross you found in the archives—small enough to hide in your coat. Maybe you thought it would protect you.

Maybe you were already praying to the wrong god.

“You’re leaving us?”

The voice didn’t come from your phone.

It came from the ticket clerk’s mouth, but it wasn’t his voice.

“I’ll tell the others. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You were doing so well... staying close to us.”

You backed away from the counter. The clerk blinked, confused, and asked for your ID like nothing had happened.

You ran.

The station was packed with people. Crowds. Trains. Security.

You felt safe—for all of five minutes.

Until a little girl passed by holding her mother’s hand and whispered, in Liz’s voice:

“You were meant to write about us, not run from us.”

A train thundered past. You turned.

And there she was.

Liz, standing on the other platform.

Eyes pure gold. Veins glowing with sigil-light. Her feet didn’t touch the ground.

She smiled.

The train between you passed—and she vanished.

You dropped the ticket and ran toward the exit.

You made it to a cab.

“Fiumicino Airport,” you said. “Drive. Please.”

The driver didn’t even look at you.

She just said, “Your wings are crooked.”

You froze.

Her voice was familiar. Velvet-smooth.

Miyeon.

She turned around slowly, smile like a funeral veil.

Her eyes were weeping light.

“You’re still pretending you’re not one of us,” she whispered.

“Why do you keep running from your wives?”

You kicked the door open and stumbled into traffic.

People around you were frozen in place.

Not just standing still. Frozen.

Some blinked. Some stared right through you.

And some were mouthing names under their breath—your name, followed by theirs.

“Wendy.”

“Momo.”

“Yeji.”

“Giselle.”

“Ruka.”

“Natty.”

“Minju.”

“Liz.”

“Yeseo.”

“Miyeon.”

You shoved past them and ran.

You burst into St. Peter’s Basilica at dusk, sweating, breathless, eyes wild.

The priests saw you.

They came to help. To guide you.

You told them everything.

They locked the doors.

And started chanting.

“Ten wings. One heart. Ten voices. One vessel.”

You tried to scream. To run.

You felt something behind you. Warm. Tall. Glowing.

Ruka.

She stepped out from the shadows of the altar like she belonged there.

Golden robes. Halo fractured. Face streaked with tears and blood.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“Let us carry your burden.”

She reached for your face. Her fingers burned like incense smoke.

You pushed her back and ran into the catacombs.

The tunnels beneath Rome are endless.

You thought they were made by men.

You were wrong.

The deeper you went, the more the walls changed.

Sigils you couldn’t understand glowed faintly.

Feathers lined the floor. Some still moved.

“Come back,” Wendy whispered from the darkness. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

You kept going.

“He’s going the wrong way,” Momo giggled.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Yeji muttered.

A door. Heavy. Ancient. Marked with your name in blood.

You opened it.

And there they were.

All ten of them.

Sitting in a perfect circle. Robes falling from their bodies. Wings outstretched. Eyes glowing. Smiling.

“Welcome home,” said Giselle.

You turned to run—

But the door was gone.

They didn’t chain you.

They didn’t need to.

Each day blurred into the next.

Wendy fed you sacred fruit from her palm.

Miyeon sang until you forgot what silence sounded like.

Yeji kissed away your prayers.

Momo whispered all the things she’d do to you if the others weren’t watching.

You begged them to stop.

You wept.

But they wept with you.

“Why would we hurt what we love?” Liz asked, tracing a sigil into your wrist.

“We’ll carve our love into your soul,” said Minju. “Until nothing else fits.”

“You don’t have to choose,” Natty said. “We already chose for you.”

And Yeseo—silent, expressionless Yeseo—climbed into your lap one night.

“You’re ours now,” she whispered, stroking your cheek. “Let go.”

And you did.

You forgot what day it was.

You forgot your real name.

You started calling them by theirs—freely, without fear.

And when you looked in the mirror…

You had wings.

#kpop yandere #yandere kpop #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere blog #yandere stories #kpop story #male reader #yandere story #yandere scenarios #yandere idol #yandere x male reader #girl group scenarios #kpop x male reader

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