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etfrin · 4 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter five | part two | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Dr. Gaul is her own warning, Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, mentions of Arachnes' death

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 you meet Dr. Gaul and her snakes with Coryo at your side 🐍

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's part two!! Hope y'all enjoy it! Give me your feedback!

beta read by the AWESOME @nowitsmissing

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Classes were dull. He couldn't stop thinking about the morning, Sejanus' tears, and Lucy Gray's smile. It felt like a terrible dream possible when sick. He hates how easily Sejanus will have his girl after Coryo makes sure she wins.

He hates how he will never have you. And another district girl will be brought to riches undeserving or maybe Sejanus will leave with her.

He hates how he sees himself in Sejanus. Sejanus' sobs are so similar to the tantrum Coriolanus had thrown when he was eight. The tears were the same as his, unable to stop. The pain is too much. Coriolanus’ tears were of shame of who his soulmate was. Sejanus’ tears were of fear that his soulmate might die in the arena.

He had to make sure Lucy Gray won in the arena. Not because he felt pity for his so-called friend but for the fact that this would ensure his victory over the Plinth Prize. Surely, mentoring the soulmate of the heir of Plinth's fortune would get him some kind of reward, at least from the kind, foolish Sejanus.

Coriolanus received a dismissal from his current history class as he was called to meet Dr. Gaul. It took him mere minutes to reach the lab of the Academy where she was temporarily stationed until the games ended. His proposal is in his satchel. He sees you there, waiting for him, and he pauses.

He soaks you in, ignoring the confusion in your eyes. He stomps on his heart that he feels broken because of how fast it is beating. And begins to walk towards you confidently, trying to channel annoyance and anger over your actions of yesterday. He failed miserably.

He mirrors the small smile you give him and he acknowledges last night by saying, “How's the day going for you, little thief?” He feels his worries fade away, the paranoia that you might have stolen his work gone as he hears you laugh at being called a thief.

“I wasn't confident enough to let you read it, and it felt rude to make you walk back to her lab to submit when I was on my way there anyways,” you explained instead, your eyes hoping for his understanding and forgiveness.

You answered his question as well, “It's been going well, I was nearly late for my classes.”

It's pathetic how easily he caved in. “It's fine,” he whispered, “maybe next time don't leave a note, so the culprit isn't more obvious.” Coriolanus Snow decided your giggle was the prettiest sound he had ever heard and his face burns as his mind repeats it. You give him a friendly swat on his arm and Snow lets himself grin. A real smile with teeth, not the perfect one designated for his classmates.

His proposal is forgotten in his bag as he and you enter the lab. He pulls you a bit closer to him, and a bit behind so he's a step ahead. Dr. Gaul was insane and Coriolanus couldn't help the feeling of being protective of you. He didn't want you to receive even a scratch while he was there.

Dr. Gaul greets you and the Coryo with a feral look in her eyes and her red-stained lips in a wild grin befitting animals. You politely greet her back and Coriolanus follows. Coriolanus swallows as he sees hundreds if not more rainbow-colored snakes in a tank.

“For the games?” He hears you ask.

Dr. Gaul replied, “We'll see, child. Now come forth.”

Coriolanus swallows and even though he shouldn't, he holds your hand, his fingers gripping yours and he walks forward, still keeping you a step behind.

The snakes hiss and move around the tank in swirls of color that hurt his eyes. But in the limited space, he could almost make out parchments with familiar handwriting. What was Dr. Gaul planning?

As if on cue, Dr. Gaul asked, “Which brings me to your proposal. I liked it. Who wrote it? Just you two? Or did your brassy friend weigh in before her throat was cut?”

Coriolanus is surprised by the small laugh you let out, and he sees the humor in Dr. Gauls’ eyes. “No ma'am, I am sure she was rather busy choking on blood. They were written by us,” you said.

“Is that so?” Gauls' voice is full of suspicion but it deters neither of you.

“Yes,” Coriolanus butts in. “Our proposals were written completely by us.”

“Well, let's read it again, shall we?” Dr. Gaul adds, “Unfortunately, my assistant lined this very case with it while I was having my lunch. Let's retrieve it, shall we?”

“Isn't it dangerous?” Coriolanus asked, his voice edged.

Dr. Gaul chuckled and explained, “They can’t see too well, and they hear even less,” said Dr. Gaul. “But they know you’re there. Snakes can smell you using their tongues, these mutts here more than others.” “If you’re familiar, if they have pleasant associations with your scent — a warm tank, for instance — they’ll ignore you. A new scent, something foreign, that would be a threat,” said Dr. Gaul. “You’d be on your own, little boy.”

He doesn't let the fear swallow him, not when he saw how eager you were to prove her suspicions wrong. He didn't want to take Dr. Gauls' words at face value but what else could he do? In no world, he would let you dip your hand into a pit of possibly venomous snakes. Not if he had a choice.

“Me first then,” he said, his voice filled with (fake) confidence.

He puts his hand inside the tank, trying not to shiver in disgust. The snakes ignore him, slithering around his hand as he wiggles through to pull out his proposal successfully. It was safe. Which means you could do the same as well. He hands his proposal to Dr. Gaul before stepping so you can repeat the action.

And you succeed as well with flying colors. You step back to stand beside Snow as Gaul holds both of your works. She raised an eyebrow impressed but Coriolanus can see the underlying disappointment and vows to never leave you alone in her presence.

Dr. Gaul said, “Well… I will try to implement both of your ideas for the Games as soon as possible. The victory tour and idea of what you called tesserae were impeccable. Same with your idea, Coriolanus Snow. I am proud to have you both as Capitol students. I am also looking forward to Arachnes’ funeral”

“Now leave,” Dr. Gaul dismissed, “It's time for my tea and crackers.”

Coriolanus couldn't walk out of there faster. Je catches you before you can walk away. Your actions tilted his reality, in so little time since the reaping day, you were changing every thought of his.

“Choking on blood?” He said, “So much for Arachne's 'family'.”

You raised an eyebrow, “There were people in the library and it was already a bad look that we weren't in our homes grieving or whatever.”

He frowned, “So that tear- those red eyes were fake?”

You looked around the hall, the students present were out of earshot. You pulled him closer by the collar and whispered,

“Guess your songbird isn't the only performer.”

Your lips were mere inches away from his. He could seal a kiss. He could take you- he processes your words and doesn't know how to react. You… you changed his whole reality, his perception of you with a sentence. Coriolanus Snow didn't know what to make of you anymore.

You pulled back (why, why, why) and handed him your proposal. “I need you to know, everything I wrote here is for Panem. Don't judge me too harshly.”

You were nothing like he thought of and you were laid bare as he read down your proposal, what you had planned for Arachnes’ funeral. And in his mind, he realized that perhaps. . .

You stopped being District a long time ago.

NEXT PART

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yaekiss · 10 months

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*crawls in here again* hi qi! for #mailroom open, I'm sending my letter to yan!zhongli. I'll take any gender neutral/masc nicknames, and I'm writing in meme 2. oh, and nsfw reply please lkjhdfg cheers to 400!

My dearest, Zhongli

I'm writing to you under the moonlight of Sumeru. There's... as much to say as the forest is vast. On my travel to the city, a kind forest ranger had given me directions to lodge with a pair of men while I stay. They remind me of you, actually, if you were split in two. They're both quite knowledgeable, being alumni from the Akademiya, but one has a more calm temper like yours, and the other has more refined taste.

I've had a lot of fun here for the time being, but I miss you so. I must be transparent... I may have partaken in some drinks in their company once, a delicate, local vintage. Please forgive me my darling, you must know I'm prisoner to your heart. I wasn't in a clear state of mind as I... kissed them. That's as far as it went, I promise.

I'm sorry to end this on a sour note. And I'm deeply sorry for my actions. My precious, I'll do anything to show you you're the only one for me. All you need is ask.

Awaiting to be in your arms again, your Andi.

(along with the letter is a bouquet of Sumeru roses wrapped in paper and pink ribbon and a pair of handcuffs)

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Zhongli, no gendered terms for reader, reader can be read as having a cock or a strap, polycule/polyamory (Zhongli, Alhaitham, and Kaveh are all mentioned in this), small mention of aphrodisiac but not used, possessiveness and unhealthy relationships, worshipping (reader receiving), biting (Zhongli receiving), snowballing, handcuffs (not used on reader), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: I think you better check the contents of your box before bringing it back up to your room. I got some troubling reports from the staff in the mailroom... Tell me if anything is off, I'll be at the counter! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

A not-too-hefty box is passed to you in the hotel lobby when you return to rest for the night. Asked kindly by the staff to double-check its contents, you settle down on a nearby lounge chair before opening it up to inspect what’s inside.

You find a Liyuean tea set, fit for a group of four, the colour of the teaware a beautiful earthy brown, reminiscent of your dearest back in Liyue. In the hotel lighting, light bounces off the surface of the teacup you’re cradling in your hands and reveals an underlying pattern of sheer golden dragon scales. A breath. Oh. He crafted this himself.

Setting the cup back into its cushioned groove in the box, you pick up a sealed bag of tea leaves. Zhongli was the one to introduce you to mixing different types of teas to create a layered taste that you couldn’t find anywhere else. No one else knew your tastes quite like he did, always so frustratingly addictive. You read the attached tag, “An aphrodisiac blend of tea leaves, so I am not the only one left wanting.” That sly dragon, desiring you carnally even miles away.

Of course, no gift from Zhongli is complete without a letter. It’s a little strange that the envelope is not sealed properly, terribly unlike your lover to flub up. But he does seem to always forget to bring his wallet around, perhaps a mindless slip. You know how excited he gets when it comes to matters concerning you, so you chalk it up to enthusiastic forgetfulness.

After removing the letter from the box, you gently close the lid. His letter is written on paper with a stunning gold trim, one he reserves only for letters to you. The words are evenly spaced out, neat, pleasing to the eye (and maybe looking at his handwriting feels a little like coming home). His letter reads:

“In loving correspondence to my heavenly pearl,

First of all, it is simply wonderful to hear from you again, my pearl. It puts my mind at ease to know that you are still here, present, on Teyvat with me. I know not what I would do if I never heard back from you, I have lost too much, I cannot lose you too… Forgive me for being direct, it must be the aching longing to see you again.

Moving on, I suppose we must address the issue which you deem so pressing. I am sure you will be delighted to hear that I am no stranger to the concept of having multiple lovers, for you are simply just that magnetic, my pearl. This dragon has learnt to be more than generous over the countless millennia I have existed.

(The handwriting seems to get a little more compacted together starting from here, as if he’s growing increasingly frenzied the more he writes.) However, when it comes to you, I wish to be a little selfish. I’d love you to love me, most. I am willing to share but let the two see that only I can please you, that I was the first to capture your heart. Perhaps, if you allowed it, I could even restrain their hands as they watch on at the sight of you pounding into me, marking me up with bites that leave lasting marks. All while I can only hazily mutter out my reverent devotion towards you. How charming you must be, to have an archon grovelling at your feet. But my pearl, you deserve all of me and more.

Would you let me service you, pleasing you until you finish on my forked tongue, before I snake my way over to the two scholars, kissing the both of them? The only way they could ever taste you is through me alone. In my presence at least. Imagine how they would writhe and beg for you in their cuffs, their hard cocks straining against the fabric of their pants, yet they are unable to do anything about it, so pitifully close yet so far. You might call me sadistic, but the thought excites you, no?

(The handwriting returns to its usual normal spacing and formatting at the start of the letter.) …It seems that I have gotten too worked up, I shall leave my response at this. When you return, do bring your two loverboys in tow, yes? I look forward to meeting them.

Utterly yours,

- Zhongli -”

“Thought we’d find you here! What do you have there?” Kaveh’s voice rings out from before you. Looking up, Alhaitham and Kaveh greet you. Kaveh sports a blinding smile while Alhaitham’s face, although appearing neutral, radiates a sort of softness towards you.

“A reply from my lover in Liyue after I sent them a love letter recently.” Your eyes roving over Zhongli’s words in your hands again, you miss the way their eyebrows pinch slightly at how tenderly the words “love letter” rolled off your tongue.

“Is it the one with the brown tea set?” There’s a tinge of… something in Kaveh’s voice.

“Yes, he did send me a lovely-” Your mind stills. You’ve never mentioned anything about a tea set yet. The box is closed. The envelope was strangely open when you first took it out.

Your gaze snaps up to them, and they share a conspiratory glance before Alhaitham leans in, whispering lowly next to your ear.

“Kaveh and I were simply thinking we could get a… headstart on showing how much we want to worship you, our prince.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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zoe-oneesama · 1 year

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@falchion0-0-1 I’m responding to you separately because a patron of mine had a similar concern so I’m just gonna screenshoot my response to them here.

They said “Didn’t Sabrina do that by herself?” (meaning didn’t Sabrina willingly volunteer to do Chloe’s work) and I said:

Basically Sabrina is ALSO a child who is learning what is right and wrong, what is normal and not normal, and for a really long time no one pointed out that the relationship between her and Chloe was not normal.

It was the responsibility of her parents, teachers, and other adults to take notice and then take steps to protect Sabrina. And at the very very VERY least, Bustier, Mendeleiev, and any other teachers should’ve put a stop to Chloe and Sabrina’s plagiarism if they care at all about either girl’s education.

Sabrina was Chloe’s victim in many ways and is only just recently realizing to what extent. The homework is just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s also a symptom of a greater disease. I don’t care what canon says - it’s not enough that Sabrina copied Chloe’s handwriting, there should’ve been plenty of things pointing to the obvious.

Sabrina and Chloe having the same answers.

Chloe’s homework being perfect but her monitored test scores being terrible.

The fact that Chloe openly discusses and brags about Sabrina doing her share of work.

It’s just too much for the teachers to reasonably play innocent here. I don’t buy that Bustier is only JUST finding out the freaking obvious. So I totally believe that the teachers knew but just don’t care or are too scared to do anything about it.

Which leaves Sabrina on her own.

Sabrina and Chloe shouldn’t be allowed to sit next to each other in class. Heck, they shouldn’t even BE in the same class. I got separated from my “best friend” in Kindergarden because her acting out made ME act out, and that was just about behaviors! We would’ve been put in different classes WAY sooner if grades were involved! So the only reasonable explanation is that the teachers are too scared of inuring the Wrath of Chloe and her Mayor Father, or pretending that nothing is happening (to Sabrina’s detriment) is just easiier.

Given how Bustier thinks Marinette should forgive and forget the bad things Chloe does despite bullying her for years, I think I can figure out why Bustier didn’t say anything about Sabrina and Chloe. After all,

All That is Necessary for Evil to Succeed is for Good People to Do Nothing. And Bustier did Nothing.

#'if sabrina shows chloe how to do it then she'll know exactly what to do!'#'the perfect little educational role model!' ~bustier probably #so disgusted when they had her dad support her being at chloe's beck and call #writing salt #ml salt #bustier salt

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metamatronic · 2 years

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bit of a follow-up to this, but if gundham’s a ghost I think he should have the ability to summon any animals he cared for who have passed on. it seems fair. forgive my terrible handwriting.

#danganronpa #gundham tanaka #ryoma hoshi #danganronpa ghost au #ghost au #drv3 spoilers #sdr2 spoilers #dr2 spoilers #art #doodles #comics #fanart

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xzho-writes · 2 years

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and so, i confide in parchment and ink

pairings: zhongli, diluc, kaeya x gn!reader

genre: angst/comfort

summary: in which you are separated from the genshin men, and their only way of communicating with you is through words shakily scribbled on a blank piece of paper.

wc: 700, 900, 1k

warnings: slight angst (mostly in kaeya’s), mentions of blood and injury

a/n: i’m dividing these into three parts with three characters in each. thank you all for these past few months, and i hope to be back some time in the future! i’ve also decided to name diluc’s falcon here so i hope you don’t mind :)

directory:

- ✦ masterlist - ✦ series masterlist - ✦ (pt.2), (pt.3)

zhongli

liyue’s most esteemed gentleman heaves a particularly weary sigh as he eyes the delicate slip of paper before him. the quill in his hand tap, tap, taps away at the surface of his office desk in a futile effort to relieve the twinge in his ancient heart.

it’s become a constant feeling, this pang.

a gloved hand rises to ease the pain in his chest, clutching at the area encasing the organ, but it does little to relieve the unwelcome feeling. the words on the parchment are blurred and are nothing more than obscured shapes but zhongli shakes away the tears before they could fall.

a single drop would ruin your letter after all, and you deserved only the very best of what he could give you.

with an aching soul, the former age-old archon flits his tired eyes over his penmanship once more. you always did love his handwriting, never missing the opportunity to compliment his skills whenever you chanced a glance at his works.

the fond memory gives him just enough strength to rise and fetch the qingxin flower sitting at your bedside table- one he had plucked himself after scaling the heights of minlin’s stone peaks. your favourite flower, he recalls.

he grabs his cologne on the way back, too. an earthy scent. homely.

zhongli returns to his desk with the flower cradled in one hand and his cologne in the other. after confirming the contents of his letter, your lover sprays a generous amount of his signature scent onto the paper and tucks it into its envelope, sealing the item carefully with wax. then with extra care he ties the delicate flora to the envelope using a thin chord.

he gives the gift a satisfied nod and carefully stows it away in his inner pocket.

it didn’t take long for zhongli to travel to the nearest postal service, practically sprinting there in an attempt for you to receive his words as soon as possible, desperately hoping you’d send one back in reply.

zhongli went to bed that night recalling what he’d written in his message to you.

—

“my greatest treasure,

please forgive how solemn this letter might sound. i assure you, darling, that this was never my intention.

my fingers itch ceaselessly to pull you close but given our current circumstances i am loathe to accept that impossibility. and so, with the loss of my closest confidant, i instead confide in parchment and ink.

how have you been faring on your travels, my love? are you taking care of yourself? enjoying the new scenery?

if in the unfortunate case that you aren’t, i have a little story that i’m sure would humour you: as i was cooking dinner this evening, i was struck with the realisation that i’d mistakenly made two portions of bamboo shoot soup… a dish of mine that i know you quite enjoy- it seems even subconsciously i cannot stop thinking about you.

perhaps this small anecdote might encourage that smile which i love so dearly to adorn your face in my absence.

it pains me that you must be away for so long. is it selfish for me to hope that you long for me just as i yearn for you? if so, then please forgive me. these thoughts refuse to leave no matter how hard i will them to.

despite today only marking a fortnight since your departure i fear that i may not be able to tolerate another week without your presence.

i miss you, my love… terribly so. it’s rather lonely here without your company.

i’d prefer to share all my thoughts with you in person but it seems this is the best i can do as of now. regardless, please remember to eat all your meals which i regrettably cannot provide (you seem to have the hapless knack of forgetting such important things- much to my utter dismay), and ensure you come back home to me safely.

i patiently await your return, my dearest.

with all the love in my heart,

- zhongli.”

diluc

the moon is high in the sky when you hear it- the shrill cry of a falcon. you recognise the sound immediately and jump out of your lonely queen-sized bed, throwing your book aside and flinging the doors of your balcony wide open.

there in the distance was diluc’s feathery companion in all her glory. she spots you instantly and hones in to land at the railing just in front of you, shrieking at your figure and giving her grand wings a restful shake.

“avaria!”

the friendly creature caws at her name, happy to be in the presence of her master’s most beloved. with one finger you reach out to gently ruffle the feathers of her chest in a manner similar to how you’ve seen diluc pet her. you receive quiet coos of content in exchange for your kind gesture and with one extended arm you invite the bird to perch on your forearm.

she happily takes her place atop your appendage and once on your arm you finally take notice of the scroll attached to her left leg.

a letter. from diluc, no doubt.

“what’s this, hmm?” you ask the bird in a curious tone full of mirth.

she all but peers at you with keen eyes and you breathe out, humoured, at her obvious inability to respond to your question.

“thank you, avaria. you’ve done well to fly here.”

carefully unlatching the letter from her leg, you turn to head back inside hoping to feed the wise bird in order to replenish her strength but pause at the way the falcon latches onto your arm tighter with her talons. you realise that she must be itching to make her way back, to inform diluc of her successful delivery, and so you give her a parting kiss to her head instead, petting her chest once more for good measure.

“keep him safe, alright?”

she nips gently at your finger and you can only take it as a sign of both understanding and affection. you chuckle happily at your silly guess, your wishful thinking.

with a mighty cry and the strong beating of her wings, you send avaria off with the careful launch of your arm and watch as her figure retreats into the midnight sky.

her piercing shrieks are the last thing you hear before making your way back to your shared bed, one that feels rather cold with the absence of your lover, tucking yourself into the sheets and lighting a nearby lamp.

you run your fingers over the delicate scroll and smile knowingly at diluc’s elegant penmanship. beautiful and neat as always.

there’s an odd sensation tugging at your heart, a feeling that only ever comes whenever you’re separated from the ragnvindr, and you wonder whether or not to save the letter for tomorrow instead, lest you fall asleep with a heavy heart.

but patience was never really a virtue you possessed in abundance and when it came to diluc’s wellbeing… said virtue was nigh inexistent.

with nothing but the company of the moon, you get lost in the feel of parchment at your fingers and the allure of the darkest ink.

—

“my love,

i hope this letter finds you in good health.

as of writing this message, it’s currently around nine in the evening and i’ve managed to find shelter in one of the many caves here in dragonspine. the bitter cold is incessant and i’m yet again reminded of the blessing that is my vision.

fortunate, isn’t it? this pyro vision.

and yet, despite the heat it provides me with and although my mind is at ease with the fact that you’re home and safe at the winery, i can’t help but wonder how much warmer i’d feel if you were here with me. i’m almost certain you’d be clinging onto my side and whining about how much you hate the cold, face flushed with the bite of frost and unknowingly sharing your warmth with me.

but i should stop with the wishful thinking. it only encourages the longing in my heart and i really shouldn’t have any distractions on this case.

as for my progress, i’ve finally discovered the final location of the abyss mages’ hideout. pesky little things. if i make haste i should be through with this mission by daylight and home by the time you awaken.

i’m fine too, so don’t worry yourself sick with my wellbeing as you so often tend to do. there’s bound to be a bruise or two somewhere but it’s nothing to fret over.

it’s alright. don’t worry.

usually i’d ask you about your day and any troubles you might’ve experienced, as i do with each letter addressed to you, but i’d rather save that conversation for when i next see you.

avaria will no doubt make her way back to you after informing me that you’ve received this letter, expecting you to write one in return, but don’t trouble yourself. as previously mentioned, please save all your thoughts for my return.

i am eager to hear your voice once again. it’s... been far too quiet without your constant chatter to fill the silence. i’d much prefer to have you here, talking to your heart’s content, but i would never jeopardise your safety in favour of my selfish desires.

i’ll be home soon, my love. i promise.

- diluc.”

kaeya

“damn...”

there’s a searing pain in kaeya’s leg. it shoots up the limb, up his spine from where he sits on the ground.

one glance to his left thigh has the captain gritting his teeth and clenching his fists in order to alleviate the throbbing sensation. there’s a gash there. a huge one, so very deep and so very red. his blood stains the fabric of his pants and soils the ground beneath him.

but he does his best to ignore the feeling. does his best not to focus on the over-hanging threat of blood loss. it’s— it’s imminent. it’s bound to be, what with the rate at which his blood pools below him, but he can’t fall into the depths of unconsciousness.

no, not yet.

not when he hasn’t sent you his weekly letter.

he promised, after all. promised he’d send you a letter for each week he had to be away on this damned expedition. for each week he coudn’t be home and by your side.

black dots swim around in his peripherals, but the cavalry captain stifles the heady feeling and instead turns his line of sight towards the right.

a desk. chair. a half-empty pot of ink... and a single slip of paper.

with great effort kaeya manages to rise to his feet. the world tips and twists around him but he manages to grab hold of the nearby makeshift bed.

the man has to actively recall how to walk, reduced to having the coordination of a newborn fawn: his injury was on his left, so that meant...

right leg, left leg. right leg, left leg.

kaeya is thankful for the tiny space of his tent despite having been used to his grand office. it only took a total of four shaky steps to reach his destination. he didn't know if he could manage any further.

a bloodied hand reaches out for the quill sitting in the ink pot, missing entirely at first before finally grabbing hold of the delicate item, the other reaching out for the stray parchment.

it's smeared with red now. he hopes you don't mind.

of course you would, he admits. of course you would, you'd worry almost instantly. what else would this colour mean?

it's not like he could fetch a new piece of paper, though. this would have to make do.

and so, with the final remnants of both his strength and his consciousness, kaeya scribes.

—

there’s someone knocking at your door, three raps against the polished wood.

your ears perk up immediately at the sound and, donning a thicker robe to keep out the morning chill, you make your way towards the entrance of your abode.

a familiar face greets your visage as you peer out of the peep-hole, an excitable smile on your face as you open the door for your guest.

“noelle! what brings you here this morning?” you greet, and the maid gives you a friendly smile and a small wave with her ironclad hand.

something clasped with her other catches your attention.

somethings brown.

“this is addressed to you,” she holds up the item you’d just been staring at. it’s an envelope with your name on it, albeit rather hastily written. “it came in last night.”

“thank you, noelle.”

the favonius maid graces you with another of her kind smiles and bows before taking her leave. with the company of no one but yourself again you close the door and quickly make your way back upstairs and into your bedroom, occupied with the slip in your hand.

it must be something from your lover. from kaeya.

the week had gone by without any signs or news from the cavalry captain. you didn’t worry initially, seeing how he was off on an expedition with the other knights, but as the week began to draw to a close with no word from kaeya you had began to feel rather restless.

but it was alright now. you had his letter in your very palms.

wrapping yourself under your duvet you begin to gently open the envelope. a single pull and the letter glides out and unravels itself before your eyes.

…and the high of anticipation all but crashes around you.

the writing is messy. scribbled. scrawled.

the paper was red. not all of it, only a few dots and a single streak, but the fact still stands.

it was red.

red?

wine, perhaps? if not wine, then some other alcoholic beverage? red water? no, kaeya loved wine- wouldn’t dream of nursing anything else unless completely necessary. red water didn’t exist. so maybe a juice of the same colour? a fruit stain, a food stain, any stain, something that isn’t, couldn’t be—

archons. there’s blood on the page.

your heart drops.

—

"calla lily,

i’m sorry.

this won’t be the prettiest of letters i’ve ever sent you by any means, but i hope it still finds its way to you. i’ve not got a lot of space or ink so please bear with me.

you’re no fool. i’m sure you can deduce my situation with how awful my writing is and the stains on this paper but please don’t worry, alright? it’s just a scratch- nothing our healers and a good night’s sleep won’t fix. it’s certainly nothing i haven’t faced before.

i’ll be okay, dove. promise.

and i’ll be home soon, too. varka and the rest have the situation all under wraps. shouldn’t take too long now. keep the bed warm for me, eh?

i love you, (name).

i’ve lived a lie my entire life, but that’s one thing i’m certain of. dead certain. if that’s the only truth i’ve ever known then so be it. i don’t care.

so please- please believe me. you have to.

take care of yourself for me, and know that no matter the distance between us, i’ll never stop lo—”

taglist

- ✦ @tellerluna-stories , @byeol-ssi , @irethepotato , @roguebox , @umiwu , @pinkuberii , @fiannee

published on 03/09/22

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin fanfic #diluc genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #zhongli #genshin zhongli #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin angst

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alienejj · 2 months

Text

ramadan prep 8/mar/24

My tongue is divided into two into heavy accent bits of confusion into miracles and accidents saying things that hurt the heart drowning in a language that lives, jumps, translates. ― from My Tongue is Divided into Two by Quique Aviles

i did indeed use a pink prayer rug for my background (someone in the community gave it away and we took it) and those two perfume roll-ons i got from Morocco last summer where we stayed with our extended family.

pls forgive my terrible arabic handwriting pls

doing so much (mentally) better today.

finally found use for a notebook ive been too afraid to use!! i've had it for around four years and each time i tried to use it id mess up the first page then leave it alone. but this time i have a plan, ill be using it to record all the dua's and beneficial words i want to learn, sort of like a common place book.

looking for dark academia/bookblr/studyblr accounts run by muslims to follow pls interact if you'd like us to follow each other xx

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burn-fire · 3 months

Text

Makoto x Pucci for valentines day because I love them

(Spoilers for Makoto's face)

Short mfs

braid braid braid

Forgive my terrible handwriting (I swear it gets worse on paper.)

He is not used to this much affection

Also the flowers are hibiscus (Same flowers that are embroidered on his suit. The colors of his mask in the labyrinth also matches some descriptions of the flower's meaning.)

#master detective archives: rain code #pucci lavmin #makoto kagutsuchi #Makoto Kagutsuchi x Pucci Lavmin #hibiscus #happy valentine's day #well not really

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yandereocs · 4 months

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*rubs hands together* Imagine Husk’s de-faced darling asking to cut off one of his hands before they’ll forgive them

* YEAHHHH

* Let us both evily rub our hands together like super villains

* For context, this is related to this post right here!!

Defaced and declawed - Yandere Husk x Reader

* CW: Descriptions of violence and gore

You don't like looking in mirrors anymore.

It makes sense, given your circumstances. You're not sure anyone would be a fan of looking at themselves after having their face ripped off.

The pain has long subsided and the wound had scarred cleanly. But you swear that you can still feel the agony of your skin pulling off.

It's terrible.

Both you and Husk prefer the bandages stay on.

Speaking of Husk, he feels terrible. You know he does. His mask is in a constant state of expressing sadness or nothing at all. His loving gestures have increase by tenfold. He keeps writing elegant essays begging for forgiveness.

But you can never bring yourself to accept any of it.

Today was no different. Husk was desperately trying to win your affection back, to make everything okay again. He was writing something in his notebook, the sound of pen scratching against paper mixing with the noise of whatever you were watching on TV.

"Please, my love. I'm sorry. It was a lapse of judgement, I never meant to harm you like that. I've told you before that I'll do anything for your forgiveness and I meant it. Anything at all."

Your eyes scan the paper as the notebook was suddenly handed to you. His handwriting had deteriorated in the past months, slowly going from calm and smooth to frantic and shaky.

As soon as you finish reading, your eyes immediately flicked over to Husk's hands. Even now, all you could see was his bloodstained hands, how the thick red liquid dried under his fingernails. It disgusted you.

Those hands...they hurt you. Caused you more pain then you could imagine, caused pain to so many other lives. You turned away from Husk. Looking at him was sickening.

"Your hands."

You felt him perk up when you spoke. Ever since the incident, you've barely spoken to him, if at all.

"I want...I want you to cut off your hands."

The monster immediately stiffened. Cut off his hands? What an insane request.

But he was so desperate for your love again.

"If I do this, you'll forgive me?"

The notebook appears in front of you again. You sigh. You don't want to forgive him. But, if his hands were gone, then no harm can come to you again.

You'd be safe.

"Yeah, sure."

Your reply was half-hearted but it seemed enough for Husk. The man immediately rose from his seat and scurried away to the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts. What would happen afterwards? Husk needed his hands to communicate with you. He was normally the one initiating conversations after the incident. Will the two of you just be in silence forever?

Husk returns promptly, interrupting your thoughts. He was holding a butcher knife. He placed his hand on the coffee table, glancing your way multiple times to make sure you were watching.

You were.

The knife was raised.

And was brought down swiftly.

Immediately the knife clattered to the table as Husk stumbled backwards, his remaining hand gripping the base of his wrist. Blood was pouring out, staining the floor, and Husk's form was becoming unstable. Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you watched the man in front of you shift from something humanoid to monstrous to back to humanoid. He was letting out low groans and growls of pain, his body shivering.

It was a disgusting sight.

You could see the hand that he had chopped off just laying on the coffee table, the once human hand shifting into someone much larger with sharp claws. Perhaps that's how his original hand looks like.

The stench of blood filled the air and make your stomach churn. But you couldn't tear your eyes away no matter who hard you tried.

Husk turns to you, his mask blank. But you could tell he was in pain. You stared back, not offering any words of comfort. Why would you?

Husk lets out another low groan before reaching for the butcher knife again. But then he stops, and he looks down at himself. He isn't exactly sure how to chop off his other hand. He looks to you for help. You shrug.

Husk drops the knife again and stumbles to his notebook, picking up his pencil with shaking, blood stained hand as he writes something down before showing it to you.

The handwriting is barely legible and it isn't in his usual cursive, instead looking more like frantic chicken scratches. But the words could be made out with close enough reading.

"Is chopping one hand enough?"

You stare at the question written, mulling it over. Just one hand wasn't enough to compensate what he did to you. After all, he had used both hands. You scoff and turn away once more, shaking your head.

"No."

Husk immediately let's out a low groan and drops the notebook, his body shaking. His form is still unstable, occasionally sprouting large antlers or growing significantly taller before shifting back to his usual form. He's struggling to keep it together. To keep you from seeing just how much of a monster he really is.

It doesn't really matter, though. You already know what kind of a beast he is. You learned that the second he laid his hands on you.

Husk stumbles out of the room and leaves the house, slamming the door. Most likely accidentally. You watch him as he goes.

And now you're left in just your thoughts.

As always, they immediately swarm your head. Regrets, fears, pleas for mercy, they all resurface.

Your head throbs.

Your face aches.

You're so tired.

The door abruptly swings open and your gaze immediately jerks over in it's direction.

It's Husk, of course. He kicked the door shut and makes his way towards you, standing in front of where you were sitting. He holds his hands out. Or, you know. Lack thereof.

Somehow he found a way to get rid of his second hand. The wound wasn't a clean as a swift chop. It honestly looked like he got some wild animal to maul his other hand off. Maybe that is what he did.

Blood was staining the floor under the two of you. You can't tear your eyes away. The exposed, pulsating muscle and the contrast of cleanly cut bone compared to the gnawed off end of his wrists was disgusting to see, the overwhelming stench of iron flooding your nose, causing you to cover it.

He's looking at you.

He needs an answer.

You'll forgive him now, right?

He did what you asked.

So what if he can't communicate with you anymore? He'll find a way.

So, please. He's silently pleading. He needs your forgiveness.

Surely this was enough for you, right?

As you look at him, your stomach churns with the familiar feeling of fear, disgust and hatred.

Nothing has changed.

It wasn't enough.

#Husk #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere boy #yandere imagines

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the-tripping-and-the-touching · 5 months

Text

Landslide (series)

Part Nine

Pairing: Josh x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You've lost something in a hiking accident... are you prepared for it to come back?

Warnings: angst.

MASTERPOST

Playlist

An unceremonious toss of a pillow onto your face was your wake-up call the next morning. Adjusting your eyes to the light-filled living room, you looked up, squinting, to find Josh standing over you with his eyebrows furrowed. For a split-second the warm, uncomplicated feeling you’d associated with Josh for so long washed over you. That is, until last night crashed into you like a wave during a hurricane.

“Why’d you let me sleep alone in your bed?” He maintained his stare, his eyes lightening to a deep amber in the golden morning sun.

Clearing your throat a little as you pulled yourself up to sit, you raced to find an excuse as to why you wouldn’t just join him after he’d fallen asleep. “I, uh… was feeling sick.” Terrible work. You studied his face as he took in your answer, the expression that laid on it unchanging.

“Why not just wake me up and kick me out then? You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.” His line of questioning continued, but it was free of any accusatory tone. If you weren’t so guarded, you may have even detected a level of concern.

“You just looked so comfortable.” That, in itself, was not a lie. He had looked very comfortable, curled up on top of your comforter as you uncovered the evidence of his nondisclosure. But you knew you couldn’t go into more detail. You couldn’t tell him how, if you had woken him up last night, you would have unleashed your very own barrage of inquiries, most likely in a tone less forgiving than the one he was adopting for this conversation.

Again, he mulled over your answer, before his expression finally shifted. “Just don’t… Just wake me up next time. I sleep perfectly fine in my own bed too.” He leaned over, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. “And you don’t feel warm.” Shrugging, he turned to the door and grabbed his keys before catching your eyes one last time. “I’ve gotta go to work, try not to get yourself another brain injury while I’m gone.” And with a flash of perfectly white teeth, he was gone, leaving you sitting all alone on the couch.

Waiting for a few minutes after you heard his tires pull out of the driveway and carry his car down the street, you finally mustered the courage to pick yourself up off the couch and walk to the place you knew your answers would be. Going straight to the far corner of your bedroom, you reached up as high as you could and felt around the top of your hanging planter, until your fingertips found purchase on a smooth wooden surface.

Careful to not pull the whole thing down from your ceiling, you picked up a rough little box and put your feet flat on the floor again. Swallowing, you sat yourself on the hardwood, needing to be as close to the ground as possible at this moment. Taking as much time as you could bare, you held the tiny receptacle in your palms, staring at the grain pattern for more than a few seconds as you prepared yourself for what you imagined was in there.

You set the container down in front of you before slowly pulling the lid up by the sides. Piled inside were dozens of little sticky notes, all scrawled on with Josh’s quick handwriting. Taking the first one between your fingers, you brought it closer to read. “Call me!” Not bad. You shuffled through a few more harmless pieces of paper before a new one caught your eye.

“You have my heart”. Shit. There’s no way, right? Fighting the urge to just snap the lid shut before you completely left the realm of blissfully unaware, you pressed on, grabbing the next note. They only increased in flirtiness and insinuation, until you picked the last one up.

Shivers ran down your spine as you read, confusion pounding against your skull as the ink seemed to leap off the paper at you. “Already miss how you taste” was all that was written, but the implication of it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Letting it slip from your fingers, the little note fluttered to the floor, joining the rest of them as you tried to stop the spinning in your head.

The sight of the colorful slips of paper scattered around you was enough to make you feel like you were losing your mind. And as much as you almost wished that were true, you also knew that you had to have collected these notes for a reason. They were tucked away safe and out of sight, in a place that clearly only you knew of.

In that moment, that pressing desire you had, to recall the start of your summer, became unbearable. You tucked into yourself, the weight of the situation coming down on you as your knees came up to your chest. Frustration came to a boil inside of you, forcing tears out of your eyes as you felt your cheeks get hot. Unable to even attempt wrapping your mind around the situation you found yourself in, you let yourself cry, closing your eyes as you stayed curled up on the floor, surrounded by the proof you had walked in on Josh trying to find right after you’d gotten back from the hospital. Notes that clearly meant just as much to him as they apparently had to you.

Nothing seemed to feel real until the click of the front door closing snapped you back to reality. Shuffling the notes back into a messy stack, you shoved them back into their box before placing it back in the planter, out of sight. Cautiously, you opened your bedroom door, watching with wide eyes as a boy so similar to Josh, yet so strikingly different, made his way into your kitchen.

After a few long seconds, taken to dry your face and make a poor attempt at cooling it off, you emerged into the main space. Stepping lightly, you approached him, studying him as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and stood in front of the sink, filling it with water. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, you spoke up.

“Jake?”

In a flash of dark brown and denim, you were wrapped in his arms. A wave of relief washed over you as he held you close, the warmth of his embrace radiating all around as you relaxed for the first time since you’d woken up. You sniffled a little, a byproduct of the tearful event that had just occurred, and he pulled away, looking at your face for the first time in months. Remembering the same excuse you had given Josh, you offered him an explanation for the stuffy nose, “I think I’m coming down with something.”

He scanned over your features before the edges of his lips curled up, giving you one of those soft smiles that you had always associated with him. “And here I was thinking you were getting emotional over me coming to visit.” You were happy to see Jake. Happy enough to get teary-eyed, truly, if your discoveries hadn’t just about tapped you out.

“If I cried every time you came to visit your brother, it wouldn’t be as special, would it?” In all honesty, you probably would have let a tear or two slip past if this were any other day. Jake had always been special to you, in a way that really only the two of you could understand.

Given the position of you two being Josh’s best friend and twin brother, respectively, there was plenty of venting to be done through the years. And while you were typically at the Kiszka household to visit Josh, you would never be disappointed if his twin met you at the door instead. If you ever needed some time to just relax, you could always visit Jake in the garage and listen to him pluck at his acoustic until he formed a new riff. Although there was never really any pressure from Josh to be anything more than yourself, the feelings you had for him always kept you on the tiniest edge. But there was never a stress like that when it came to Jake. Over the years, he had become a friend that you had grown to always need.

“You know I’m never here to visit only my brother, sunshine.” The feeling of his hands on your shoulders was a comfort too rare nowadays, the nickname washing over you like a warm wind. His eyes flicked across you, not catching on any of your bruises, like you’d almost expected. “Looking good for someone that almost let a couple rocks kill ‘em.” Of course. Unlike Josh, a moment between you and Jake could never be too sweet for too long.

You laughed, pushing away from him and pulling a glass from the cupboard for yourself. “It was a landslide, Jake. More than a couple rocks.” Following his lead, you filled it with some water, already feeling your need to rehydrate.

“Yeah, yeah.” Looking at him again, you noted how his smile had changed into one of his big grins. You pushed his shoulder gently before walking to the kitchen table and pulling a chair out to sit in.

Following suit, he joined you at the table, rotating his glass around his fingertips. “So, Josh give you any warning at all about us coming to visit?” His voice held a certain warmth this morning, lulling you into nearly ignoring a certain word he had chosen to use.

“Us? Don’t tell me…” Your eyes shot up to meet his, eyebrows immediately furrowing.

“Shit, he really didn’t tell you anything. Sam’s at the studio with him right now, doing what little brothers do best.” At least he wasn’t here. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, you loved Sam. He was just more inclined to ask questions and make invasive observations than Jake, and you found yourself thanking the stars that he wasn’t here to witness and analyze your weak excuse for your puffy eyes. “At least they said they’d come home with dinner.”

You knew his eyes were on you, and as hard as you tried to keep up your unbothered demeanor, you also knew that Jake was always able to see straight through you. Thankfully, he didn’t take it as an opportunity to pry. You had to count your blessings, he never really did.

“Everyone else stayed home for the summer, work and internships and whatever nonsense they have. Nothing as exciting as coming to this place for a few days.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, pulling a small smile from you. Good enough for him.

It was always a gift to have Jake in a rambling mood. People would never know it when they saw him next to his twin, but he could talk just as much. On a good day, you could get him spiraling through topics every few minutes, keeping you happily entertained for hours.

“I mean, having you to visit in the middle of all the bullshit I’m dealing with with the band? Fucking saving me, you don’t even know.” Huffing a laugh and rolling his eyes, he took a moment to look around your kitchen. It wasn’t hard to see, after all of these years, that there was some sort of storm rumbling under his cool exterior.

“The band?” Your head tilted as you asked the question, your eyes not leaving his face as his caught on the little brass wall hanging in the shape of the sun that hung right above your head. He bit on the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his words.

Finally his thoughts solidified, but his eyes didn’t leave the metal sun. “When Josh moved out here, I had to scrap the whole band thing we had going.” His voice was heavier, almost like he was still mourning the loss of his twin. “Without Josh’s voice, every song was just kind of fucked… had to restart.”

Bringing his hand up to his face, he started playing with his bottom lip, running his fingers along the edge of it before pulling it a little. You knew there had to be a thousand things rushing through his head, though you’d never actually considered what coming to visit must do to him.

The move was hard for both of them, but especially so for Jake. To have a support system was one thing, but to have someone by your side for quite literally your entire life? It was a gift he hadn’t understood the true value of until it accepted an admission offer from across the country and tore his best friend away from him. His best friends.

“It’s interesting,” he seemed to snap out of his thoughts, “I never imagined my playing could sound like it does now.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest as your eyes focused back on his. “Yeah, I guess studying for a music degree tends to enhance your skills.” There it was. That smile was back.

“If you say so, sunshine.” He tipped his glass back and forth on the table, watching the water inside lap against the sides as he formulated a new query. “Do you really remember everything?”

“Mostly.” You offered him a shrug as you sipped on your own drink. “The beginning of the summer is a little fuzzy, but it’s not like you were visiting then. At least not that I’m aware of.”

Letting out a little chuckle, he set his glass down flat and started to drum his fingertips on the tabletop. “Ah.”

“Ah?” An abrupt response wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, or what you were looking for.

“Just, uh, I was gonna offer to fill in some gaps, but you sound set.” His eyes went down to his tapping fingers after he spoke, the repetitive motion filling the silence with a dull noise.

“That all?” Your foot taps against his leg under the table, pulling his attention back to you.

“Yeah, yeah.” Another soft laugh falls from the small smile that had found its way back to his lips. “Was hoping for your sake that you’d lost your memory of all those films Josh makes you rewatch. Make it feel like you were seeing them for the first time instead of the hundredth.”

A louder laugh comes from you, widening his grin. “At least they’re good. God forbid he had taste like yours.”

“Hey! In no world does A Clockwork Orange have better rewatch value than anything I’ve ever shown you.” Just like that, falling back into your routine, you and Jake laughed with each other for hours, up until the moment you heard the key turn in the front door’s lock. Up until that tiny click pulled you away from it, you’d been having possibly the most restorative day yet since you were released from the hospital.

Hearing the same thing as you, Jake rose from his seat, meeting his brothers at the door as it swung open. Pizza boxes in tow, Josh waltzed into the kitchen, tapping your head lightly as he breezed by you. Making as much of an effort as you could with the memory of that morning hitting you, you rose to meet Sam, letting him wrap his long arms around your shoulders.

“This asshole popped up behind me as I was trying to frame a scene this morning.” Josh shouted over his shoulder as he pulled plates from a cupboard. “I can’t imagine Jake’s entrance here was any less nightmare-inducing.”

Just like that, a war was instantly waged in your mind. You could respond, acting like nothing had happened, or you could not, leaving him hanging at the risk of sending this entire evening, possibly even Jake and Sam’s entire trip, to absolute disaster.

Luckily, a choice was made for you as Jake defended himself, “All I did was help myself to some water after my journey!”

“You make it sound like you walked here from Michigan.” You quipped back, pulling paper towels off the roll and setting them on the kitchen table next to the boxes.

As much as you wanted to run from this situation, to go lock yourself in your room, you knew that the younger brothers didn’t deserve that. You knew that showing up at an inopportune time shouldn’t sentence them to a week of silence and domestic warfare. Accordingly, you pulled it together, trying not to make a point of only responding to the two of them. As much as they had a right to a friendly visit, Josh had forfeited his right to your conversation.

So for the first time in what very well could have been your entire adult life, you sat through a dinner without so much as stealing a glance at Josh. You almost made it through unscathed, the clamor of laughter and shouting covering your pointed silence. Almost.

“I need to know where the hell I’m sleeping, because the floor didn’t exactly agree with me last time.” Jake’s words crashed into you like a freight train, the weight of them immediately sobering you to the reality of the closing night.

“Well I’m not taking the floor either.” Sam piped up, sealing your fate.

You could feel his eyes on you before a single sound escaped his mouth, confirming what was about to happen. “We could always just sleep in your bed. They can argue over the couch and mine. I’m not really worried about getting sick.” For the first time that night, you looked at Josh. It was almost painful, the way the warm kitchen lighting deepened the color of his eyes, inviting you in like a siren on a stormy night. He shot you a wink, the edges of his lips curling up.

“I don’t think so, I really don’t feel well. Why can’t one of them take the couch in your room? Then no one has to sleep on the floor.” Your eyes didn’t leave his, even as Sam started speaking again. Like it was a game. Like he was daring you to look away, to get flustered, to give in.

“I’m not sleeping in the same room as either of them, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with the way they snore.” That earned him an elbow from Jake, leaving the two of them to bicker.

“C’mon,” Josh just had to keep pressing you. To him, this was how it was meant to be. To him, you had no idea. To him, your condition was some sort of miraculous second chance at whatever game he was playing. “It's not like it’s new for us. Jake can take my bed, Sam’ll sleep out here. Seems like everyone wins.”

That was as much as you could take. Because you couldn’t let him win. Not when you were losing as badly as this. “No.” It came out harsher than you would have liked, but drove the point home quicker than anything else you could have said. Knowing the look on his face had the ability to break your resolve, you went back to avoiding interaction with him.

Not giving them time to get up or say anything about your response, you gave Jake and Sam quick hugs before turning and walking straight back to your bedroom, swinging the door fully shut behind you.

As you got ready for bed, you could hear the shocked silence slowly turn into quiet bickering, no doubt over who got to sleep away from the others. You let the darkness of your room wash over you as you collected yourself, speechlessly praising yourself for staying firm on your decided course. Eventually, as you laid in bed scrolling through every app that offered some sort of distraction, the conversation died down to nothing as they found their spots for the night.

Texts from the twins rolled in during the silence, both asking what was wrong, Jake offering an open ear. As much as your mind was begging to be unburdened, you knew you couldn’t. Not now. So while you drifted off to sleep alone, a million thoughts ran through your head, each one of them focused on the boy who lived in the next room over.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #gvf fic #landslide fic

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